#you get it? you get it. my fucked up raccoon of a man she has so many issues.

[taelortot]

The Sun and the Moon

Part zero: Introduction (four screenshots and drabble)

Characters are in college!!!!!

Megumi Fushiguro was not known to be the most patient person in the world. Growing irritated with those who took up too much of the allotted time he allowed for. This would apply to basically everything— getting ready for the day, deciding on what to order at restaurants, perusing the grocery store when only going in for one item— and the list goes on and on. His patience was limited, growing thinner and thinner as the days passed. Megumi was also not known to be the sweetest man in the world, no no no. Quite the opposite really. Snapping at those who interrupted him, growing angry with people who got off task, and frustrated when no one could pay attention for more than 5 minutes.

That applied to everyone. Everyone he’s ever interacted with his whole life. Everyone who has looked his way.

Everyone except y/n.

It baffled his friends. Seriously throwing them through a loop that the man who yelled at them for speaking over him, was now allowing this petite girl to interrupt him to say the clouds look pretty.

“They do, baby” he would smile, turning his full attention to his girlfriend, taking in her beauty as she looked towards the sky.

Huffs and sighs coming from his friends, eyerolls and arms crossing as Megumi allowed his girlfriend to point out little shapes she saw in the puffy white clouds.. instead of continuing to discuss the plan for the mission they were going on in a few days. When his attention eventually returns to where it should have been, his hands always find their way to the girl who is sitting as patiently as she can. Holding her hand in his, calloused thumb brushing over the pretty promise ring he purchased a few months ago. Or one hand on the back of her neck, fingertips massaging her skin, running his fingers through her soft vanilla scented hair.

It wasn’t always like this. It took time. It took time to realize she was always going to be 20 minutes late no matter how early she started getting ready because— “I couldn’t decide between this pink skirt or the other one” or “I couldn’t find my wedges so I had to change my whole outfit to match these ones” and Megumis favorite “I lost my cherry lip gloss that you love so much so I had to find it, doesn’t it taste good?”

So he learned to be patient with her. Only because y/n is hands down the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on. AND, she always gave him road head when they are running late to make it up to him.

Oh and he’s so fucking in love with her it’s stupid.

So fucking in love with the vanilla scented girl.

Sweet and syrupy. Sticky and warm. Like sugar cookies and waiting for Santa to come down the chimney.

Giving Megumi a taste at the childhood y/n insists he should have had.

At first Megumi couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that y/n was definitely not all there—In a constant state of carefree living. At first, he truly wondered if she was dropped on her head a few times—only because the shit that came from her mouth were absurd most of the time.

“Do you think if I pet raccoon I could train him to dance?”

“I really wish I could see an alien and ask it if they like ice cream— oh my god what if they don’t even have ice cream? Should I buy some just in case they visit me tonight?”

“Do you think your puppies can smell when I’m sad?”

And that list goes on and on and on. Mostly consisting of questions Megumi has now learned how to answer. Even if the answers don’t make sense.

"I'm pretty sure he could learn to dance, sweet girl."

"What flavor do you think they would like, baby?"

"I think they can sense your emotions, pretty girl"

When I say it took time for Megumi to really understand y/n, I mean it took TIME. But, after finding out the girl has severe adhd, it all made sense. Now he can sit back and enjoy that funny things she does.

As well as relishing in the comfort she gives him. It's like no other. How understanding she is, how she cares for him, how she takes care of him in ways he cannot comprehend. No one has ever taken the time to understand him, to REALLY understand him. Growing fiercely protective of his baby, keeping her safe from those who wish to tear her down in any way they could.

"you're not stupid, pretty girl. they are just jealous of how beautiful you are"

Now... that's always a touchy topic for y/n. Sure, the girl may be a bit ditzy and unaware-- but, why would she need to have a brain when Megumi could do all the thinking for her? A word Megumi heard a lot was 'bimbo', a word he had to look up after some frat guy called y/n that. And... while that might be correct, Megumi didn't see anything wrong with that. Well, the only issue he had was that every person who saw y/n sexualized her. Other than that, he had no issue with how naive and attractive she is. Always making sure to grab a handful of her tits whenever any male looked at her chest a little too long. Earning a giggle and a-- "Gumi, that tickles!"

God she was so innocent. And soooo in love with her boyfriend of 1 year.

There was something about the way she looked at him. A twinkle in her eye or something. It started from when she first made eye contact with him, as if the word stopped and he was all that mattered.

As if he's the one who drags the stars out of the dark every night.

As if he is the reason the moon shines so bright in the dead of night.

Or maybe Megumi was the moon to her. Illuminating the dark to guide her home, keeping her safe from what lurks in the shadows.

Like the way the moon influences the tides with its gravitational pull, Megumi pulled her in whatever direction was best for her. And no matter what, with Megumi by her side, she knew there would always be another bight night.

Another night to sleep safely.

Another night to hear the owl's hoot.

Another night to stay up late talking to the love of her life.

Just another night to be with him.

His little innocent girl— well mostly innocent. The things he’s done to her would surly send them both to hell.

But!! We can discuss that later.

Anyway, there isn’t one thing Megumi wouldn’t do for y/n. He would go to the ends of the earth just to see that pretty smile. While he remained standing with a cool and calm exterior, his body vibrates when he sees his girl. His chest on fire when he sees her smile. Oh god, and don’t get him started on her laugh. When he dies, he hopes that’s the last thing he hears.

It’s like on a semi cloudy day, the way the sun peaks out from behind the clouds, shining rays bursting through to create the most elegant shadows. Or when the sun shines down on painted glass, a mosaic of colors dancing on the sidewalk.

Maybe she’s just the sun.. maybe y/n is Megumis' sun. The thing that keeps him warm, the thing he needs every single day to survive, the light in his dark heart, reminding him that there will always be another day.

Another day to see the sun.

Another day to hear bird chirping.

Another day to be see the love of his life.

Another day to kiss her.

Another day to hold her.

Just another day with y/n.

taglist: @vellichor01 @loveyislost @gradmacoco @koreluvsspring @ersharyzst

[quietwingsinthesky]

obsessed with the idea of the doctor and the master standing together in opposition to gallifrey post-end of time. less in it being the reality of the situation, and more in it being what the master perceives it to be in the immediate aftermath of being. well. told he was going to be disposed of. the combination of that rejection with the doctor choosing him, the way that sets them up with a common enemy. but where that enemy for the master becomes gallifrey in the abstract with the council as the face of it, the doctor never sees it that way, never thinks of it as the two of them against their own world. the doctor, crucially, kept count of the children. when he saves gallifrey, it isn’t about the master at all, not to anyone but the master themself. because how are they supposed to take the doctor choosing gallifrey over them as anything other than a betrayal.

[nab1wuzhere]

Magnetic

“You wouldn’t look at me.”

“I saw plenty.”

“In my eyes.”

“…Does it matter?”

~

summary:

Bakugo Katsuki, No. 3 Hero in the charts, massive amounts of tan girls, always invited to galas, events, and even award shows along side his peers, but he has never once gotten a dating scandal in his whole career. Has never even looked in a woman's direction. So you can be certain he won't change his actions when artist Y/N is invited to sing at a private Christmas Gala hosted for hero's to celebrate the season and a year well done of duties...right?

Singer, artist, model Y/N, has it all. Looks, wealth, awards, friends, family, and boyfriends.. her music revolves around her relationships and past relationships along with her mental health that she speaks about through her music. She gets asked to gigs almost every day but few are lucky to book her, when her team gets a request for the Christmas Hero Gala which is highly exclusive, she immediately agrees to entertaining the hero's, excited for the night she doesn't realize she caught a certain man's attention in the back of the crowd..

• slow burn - secret pining - romance - bold Y/N, shy Katsuki - vice versa - celebrity!y/n x aged up!katsuki

• following contains, eventual smut, mentions of suicide, alcohol, mental illness, heavy party scenes and probably more !

• 18+ only!! this is your warning

• the rest of the celebrities mentioned in this series i do not take credit for, and the songs mentioned all writing ownership belongs to them! i do not take credit except for this fan fiction!

!! just a friendly reminder this is all fake, simply my imagination placed into writing !!

Chapter one

intro

After Kirishima left Katsuki alone in his hotel, Katsuki much to his dismay went through a whole social media dive on Y/N. Research, is what he told himself when he scrolled through her Instagram. Photo dumps from her and her friends, including a few actors Katsuki was familiar with, a picture of her dog, Bell, a candid photo of her in the studio, headphones placed on her head.. 'She's pretty' he thought but quickly brushed it away.

Yeah, Katsuki was extremely private when it came to his love life, so what? Was that a crime? Not at all, he had a disgust for the media and he sure as hell didn't want strangers all up in his personal life, it's how he has always been even from his UA days.

All of a sudden his phone started blowing up from the group chat he had with his friends. Kirishima sent a video from some Hollywood website, headlined "Y/N seen getting off at an airport in Japan". the video showed Y/N in a baseball cap wearing all black and a few bodyguards surrounding her, screams were blasting from his phone, flashes bouncing off her as she walked keeping her head down.

"For fucks sake.." Katuski scowled at the video, where's the humanity in following someone around? God he hated paparazzi.

Buzz Buzz.

Shitty Hair - OH GOD! this was today! she's here in Japan!

Raccoon Eyes - EEEK! I CAN'T WAIT FOR TOMORROW, WHAT DO YOU THINK SHE'LL WEAR?!?!

Bob Head - oh god! that's a lot of pap.. i hope she's okay :(

Nerd - Yeah.. I'm sure someone like her is used to it but, wouldn't that get a little draining?

He hated to admit it, but Deku was right, shit, having people scream your name everywhere you go has got to get tiring.

Shitty Hair - yeah, I'm sure it is tiring, but that's what you get in that industry, hell guys even we get that

Shitty Hair - …but seriously, I think she's gonna wear black

Pump Legs - She's definitely wearing red

Raccoon eyes - I SECOND THAT!!!!!

Shitty Hair - NO?!?

Shitty Hair - Katsuki! what do you think?

- i’m not participating.

Dunce Face - the obvious answer is green

Pump Legs - Wanna bet?

Shitty Hair - KATSUKIIIIIII

- white.

Shitty Hair - WHITE?!

Bob Head - waaaiiiittt cause i can see it..

Aaaand that was Katsuki's queue to exit the group chat, he scoffed to himself and was just about to go shower but curiosity got the best of him. He groaned before googling her name. Pictures and articles popped up of her when one of them caught his eye. "BREAKUP?! Y/N and Cole Malter’s 1 year relationship comes to a CLOSE" Katsuki's interest was peaked and he clicked on the link, scrolling down pictures of Y/N at red carpets were displayed, a tall guy with black hair and a cocky look in his eye was seen standing next to her. A very obvious grip on her waist. Katsuki narrowed his eyes and thought, ‘Who even is this guy?’ before realizing he was an actor on a popular sci-fi show Deku was once talking to Sero about during one of their movie nights. He could tell immediately this Cole guy was an asshole, just by the way his lips curved up into a smug grin and again that tight possessive grip on Y/N's waist. Katuski glanced over at Y/N trying to read her expression but was only met with a bright smile that creased the corner of her eyes a little.

Scrolling down on the article, according to a source Cole's very “open” drug addiction was one of the reasons for the split. A video was attached bellow showing Y/N and Cole late at night in LA by a crosswalk, Cole was clearly drunk out of his mind as he threw himself on her while laughing. Y/N's face was anything but happy. You see her shaking her head at him before turning him as she spoke, Cole throws his arms up in a defensive way, but Y/N keeps at it. She moves her hands in a expressive manner as Cole lights up a cigarette, seconds later he puffs smoke directly in her face..

Y/N stands there no longer speaking and turns back in front of her with a blank expression on her face, Cole laughing, no remorse shown. The video ends there.

Katsuki scrolls to the comments,

user62946: omfg it's so obvious he's high on TOP of being drunk.

y/nforpresident: what an ASS. I would've dumped him too.

maggieisabbi: when I see stuff like this I always think if people were dropped on their head as baby

reply/user72048: LOLLLLLL

kentuckyfriedchicken: didn't he just get out of rehab too??? how long has this been going on

deluluisthesolulu: I feel awful for her, my partner for 3 years was a druggie, by far most draining experience EVER. glad she got out when she did.

Kastuki shut his phone off after reading a couple more comments. A pang of sympathy rushed through him for her, he immediately clocked it and shook his head, he has no relation to her, tomorrow night will be the first and last time they ever crossed paths.

"Why do I even care?"

-

Y/N was awoken by a knock on her door, her manager, Crystal and long time best friend came through after announcing it was her. Y/N groaned dramatically when Crystal pulled the curtains open, the sun stinging her eyes immediately.

"CRYSTALLL."

"Wake up hun, we gotta get you ready for tonight."

Y/N's eyes opened at that, when her team got a request for her performance a month ago she was thrilled to say the least, she loved gala's and being able to have more domestic performances like she was just another girl with a voice.

"Uh?? Hello!! Yes!", was the first thing she said when Crystal pitched the idea to her.

Y/N was a big fan of the heroes and felt like her dreams were coming true when she realized she would meet some of her favorite ones! Not realizing they were just as excited to meet her.

After an hour of hair she was now sat down on a high chair, her makeup team working away their magic, she texted her mom letting her know how the preparations were going. A text came up from Cole, Y/N stared at it her stomach swarming with anxiety, she swiped the text away not even bothering to read what he had texted. With a deep breath she shut her phone off and focused on getting ready.

"Was that Cole?", Crystal asked with a hint of worry.

Y/N shook her head, "Doesn't matter, when I go back to LA I'll deal with him then.."

Cyrstal stayed silent, fiddling with her bracelet, "Just.. be careful? This isn't the first time he's come crawling back and-"

"I've got it handled Crys."

"-No I know it's just.." she sighed looking deeply into Y/N's eyes, "guard yourself, don't succumb back into what he wants."

Y/N extended a hand, holding Crystals hand with a small squeeze, "I won't."

Crystal smiled, “Good, now chop chop people we have to be out the door and on our way to the venue in less than thirty minutes!!”

Y/N smiled, Crystal completely back on manager duty, her mind went back to Cole, thinking about the last in person conversation they had.. Cole was almost on his knees asking her not to leave him, but she was too tired to continue on with him and his actions, she didn’t care about her image, if Cole needed her by his side during his recovery out of his addiction she would, and she was, but he just wasn’t meeting her halfway, and in the end the only person getting hurt was her.

“Hey babes?”, Kelly, her makeup artist spoke up, “I’m intrigued, who are you most excited to meet tonight?”

Y/N was pulled out of her daze and smiled brightly, “Now there’s a question I want to be asked! ..Hmm, honestly? I adore Red Riot, his quirk is so coool!! His whole friend group seems like such sweet people”

Crystal jumped in, “Oh yeah, i read somewhere they all went to the same hero school, UA or something”

Kelly nodded, “Yeah the top 3 hero’s are in that group as well… gonna be completely blunt, that Shoto hero…? Such a good looking guy”

Y/N snickered while Crystal laughed, “Oh my gosh let’s talk about it, that guy you mentioned Y/N, Red Riot? He could do whatever he wanted to me and I’d thank him”

“Haha-! What the hell Crystal?!”

Crystal and Kelly laughed along with some of the other staff working who overheard the girls conversation

After Kelly stopped laughing she asked, “What about you? Who do you find attractive from all the hero’s?”

Y/N shook her head, “No way in hell am i answering that-”

“Awww come onnnn!”

“No!”

“Please?!”

Y/N sighed, a small smile betraying her, “Uhm.. well Dynamight’s pretty cute-”

A squeal from the two girls pierced Y/N’s eardrums, “Oh my god shut up both of you! Aren’t we on a time crunch? I’m still with the same unblended concealer I had five minutes agooo!”

Crystal shook her head grinning before clapping her hands and ordering people around, Y/N smiled as a giggle escaped her and Kelly.

“Isn’t Dynamight the really loud and brash one? I heard he once cussed out a reporter on live television”

Y/N nodded, “Yeahh.. but that reporter did ask him a really stupid, out of the box question, so i think it’s completely valid”

“Yeah but doesn’t he like hate is fans or something? Anytime he’s at fan signs he always look so miserable”

Y/N pressed her lips, “You know he once saved two children from an apartment complex that was on fire and was about to crumble within seconds? He even helped an old lady at the grocery store cross the road because she was afraid to make cars stop for long just so she could go?” she paused for a moment, “Does he sometimes come off as loud? aggravated? mean? yeah, but so do we, that man has seen things and experienced things we couldn’t even imagine,” she ends with a shrug, “I’m just not convinced he’s truly like that”

-

Later into the evening Y/N was behind a secluded corner, preparing herself as she was about to go on stage and sing for the heroes she peaked out a curtain to see everyone gathered around, shes preformed in front of filled to the brim stadiums, always feeling confident beforehand and right about now she needed some of that confidence.

This was a more domestic appearance, they didn’t come here to see her, she came here to be the one to bring on a show for them and bring it well.

“You are 3 minutes till entrance Ms Y/N”, spoke out a tech staff that was helping for the night, she thanked them and noticed they were still lingering, “Is something the matter?”

“Oh! No- no i just- well, could i get a picture?”

Y/N smiled, “Of course!”

She finished up with the staff and began to take deep breaths to ease her stress

Suddenly microphone feedback rang in the air and a rough voice spoke out, it was All Might, one of the greatest hero’s about to make a speech.

“Ahem, hello everyone good evening, it’s good to see everyone here and thriving.” applause erupted, “As you know this year was filled with its challenges, hardships and struggles.. a lot of you have been placed in situations where some of us couldn’t handle. Some were forced to make difficult decisions, some of us easy ones.., but at the end of it we completed what we chose to do, and that was make the world a safer place.” applause filled the room a second time, “Now, it is time to relax, celebrate the holiday season, enjoy friends and old faces we haven’t seen in a while and most of all, pat one another on the back for yet another great year of hero work!!” some heroes let out whistles and cheers

“Now i won’t bore you any longer and skip to the part i know we all.. have been waiting for, ladies and gentlemen! Please give a loud and warm welcome to the woman who is by far the voice of this generation.. Ms Y/N!!”

Y/N’s heart felt like it got squeezed at the lovely compliment given to her, All Might stepped off the stage and the lights going completely off, a few gasps let out, she walked out onto the stage, careful not to trip, standing in front of the mic stand, her iconic jeweled microphone in her hand.

Flash

The lights came back on in an instant revealing Y/N standing in a beautiful while shimmer dress, her curled hair draping down her back, her cheeks rosy, her eye shadow glittering from the lights, a smile peaking out from her glossy lips.

“Heroes how we doing tonight!?”

Applause was not hesitated the minute she spoke. As the music began to play, a familiar christmas chime filling everyone’s ears, Y/N looked around the crowd seeing everyone’s faces and smiling before her eyes locked on dark red ruby ones, the eyes no doubt belonged to him.. Katsuki Bakugo.

authors note:

never in my whole time of being here on tumblr would i ever think i would have the guts to publish something, and when i finally do it received a lot of love and attention! (at least in my eyes)

seriously all the love from the intro made me so happy and i’m glad you all love it!! as requested here is a taglist! comment if you want to be added as well :}

ps. look out for a moodboard i’ll be posting! ;}

@d1orhaz3 @stoned-anime-babe @yjploum @penguinsravioli @mutsu422 @anonymity-222

[angelwhisp3rs]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ arrival

Pairing: RE4!Leon x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Spain, he just wanted to spend some time with her.

Tags: fluff; smut; p in v; oral (f/m); overstimulation; praise/degradation; soft/hard dom leon; this is just horny, im so sorry ksksk;

Notes: an idea i had and that has also been requested! im being slow but i promise to do every requests, but uni is kicking my ass ksksk

Minors do not interact!

Spain had been absolutely terrible. Since Raccoon City, that has been the worst place he had the displeasure of going. The ganados, his infection, the constant threat, it all made his mind go overload and just tire itself out. At times like that, he ached to be cuddling her, getting her sweet kisses and caresses, not fucking punches to his guts.

When he was finally cleared from the medical bay, he could only rush home. God, he missed her. It hasn’t been a long time since they last say each other, but fuck, whenever you have a whole village after you, days begin to feel like weeks. The worse is that he had to be on observation for a few days, making sure that the Plagas was truly gone, while the only medicine he ever needed was her.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

At first, it was supposed to be loving and gentle. He opened the door, and she was already there waiting for him, running into his arms and hugging him tightly. Fuck, he almost cried; he was finally safe and away from all those horrors.

Then, she kissed him with love and relief, closing the door behind him and leaving his suitcase on the side, making him focus on her - as if he ever wanted to focus on something else. As she guided them to their bedroom, he couldn't help but grope, touch, and feel every part of her, kissing her neck and marking her too. 

Laying her on the bed, he had to step back and admire his girl, his princess, his angel. 

“Missed you, baby” he said as he pressed kisses on her neck

“Missed you way more” She giggled in glee

“Not possible.” He said, smirking.

He took his shirt off, and she gasped, looking a little sad. She knows about his job, and she hates whenever he comes back to her bruised, broken and traumatized. She gently kissed every mark on his body, pulling him down to lay on the bed.

“Let me take care of you. You deserve it after having to take care of everyone else” 

As she said that, she took the reins, knowing how much he needed that. Slowly pushing down the remainder of his clothing, she began kissing his abs, worshiping his skin as she lowered her mouth, ignoring his cock for now and kissing his toned thighs. 

They were so big; she loved just the thought of letting them wrap around her head and suffocate her. His hands caressed and pushed her hair away, watching as she loved him.

“Fuck, don't tease, babe… been wanting this for too long” he grunted, buckling his hips into her lips

She giggled at his neediness but decided to go ahead - he usually wasn't like this, so this mission must've messed with him.

Grabbing the base of his cock, she pressed open-mouthed kisses on his dick, letting her saliva coat it as it throbbed on her hands in need.

She put the tip in her mouth, letting the tip of her tongue press on the skin of the head. She swirled her tongue as she slowly began sucking it, gloating at his grunts. She couldn't wait till he was a moaning mess for her.

She began to lower her head, taking as much as she could and using her palms to aid her in his pleasure. Her head moved back and forth, spit gathering on his shaft and helping her hand move. Her tongue pressed on the prominent vein, making him let out a gasp mixed with a moan.

“Baby, that's it. Take my cock; it's all yours” 

He made a makeshift ponytail with her hair, thrusting his hips up as she gagged and kept taking him, each of his words being spaced by a thrust.

Tears formed in her eyes, but she didn't care. She wanted her man to feel everything; she wanted to reward him for all the fighting he did. He fought to stay alive and come back to her.

She missed his salty taste and the way he slowly lost himself to the pleasure. It didn't take long for him to cum on her throat, making her swallow it all as he laid panting in their bed.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Smiling, she kissed up his body, sharing a sweet kiss with him, pulling away to nuzzle on his nose.

“Let me pay back, love”

“No, Leon. Today is all about you” She reassured him, making sure he still laid on the bed.

“But eating your pretty cunt is something for me too” he bargained with a cheshire grin.

“Don't wanna hurt you, baby…” She said unsure, frowning.

“Then sit on my face. That way I can have you and still be resting in the bed” he tried once more.

Just the thought made her clench around the air. He was right; she only had to make sure not to put too much weight on him.

Following his offer, she began removing her clothes, and Leon almost shrieked in happiness; he wanted nothing more than to see her hovering his face.

Fully naked, just like him, she carefully sits above him, moving up till she reaches his face. Before she could even reassure him, he pushed her into his mouth, not wasting any time and locking the wet cavern on her sensitive clit, holding her hips down with his strong hands.

She grabbed the headboard, moaning as she watched him devour her “f-fuck, baby, be careful”.

He shook his head, beginning to flick his tongue on the bundle of nerves, a wet and sinful noise leaving his lips as she moaned in pleasure.

“Eating this pussy is gonna make something that none of the drugs did” he said against her cunt, moving his tongue to fuck her hole.

She whined and tried to squirm her hips; it was too much in such a short period of time. But his palms didn't let her move anywhere, leaving her only to take it and feel the pleasure.

“Pussy so sweet, gonna make me ignore every call just so I can keep eating it” he mumbled as he ate her out, his chin beginning to be wet by her juices.

She was so close, and by the second he put two fingers inside her and began scissoring it as he rolled his tongue on her clit, she almost screamed as she came on his tongue, her body shaking as she coated him with her juices.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

To her surprise, his other hand held her firm in place and he didn't stop, her moans turning into overstimulated whines, as he toyed with her cunt and kept thrusting his fingers.

“B-baby, t-too much…” She moaned as she shook in pleasure.

“It's not, baby, you are my good girl, you can do it” 

He praised her and kept going, and from the added sensitiveness, it didn't take long for her to cum again, drenching more of the lower part of his face.

He allowed her to lay down as she shook and tried to stabilize her heartbeat, looking up at him with hazy eyes and blushing cheeks.

“Leon, where did that come from?” She asked in giggles

“Was too hungry for you, my love, couldn't help it. I'm sorry” he apologized and pressed kisses to her cheeks and mouth, both giggling.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

As some time passed as they caressed each other and had a pillow talk, he couldn't help but put her on his lap, making her feel his hard cock.

“Jesus, love, you are eager”

“Oh, don't tease. I never see you complaining when I'm fucking you good”

“Yeah, but that's not happening today, Leon. You are recovering for God's sake!”

“I should be celebrating that I'm not dead! C'mon, pretty, you can ride me and take it slow” he said with a boyish smile, biting his lip.

She smiled back shyly, shaking her head. That man had her wrapped around his finger; he was too good to be true. 

Nodding, she gave him a warning “slowly, okay?”

“Absolutely, angel” he said excited as he laid on the pillows

She hovered him and slowly went down on his cock, making both groan in pleasure. His fingers and multiple orgasms made it so easy to slide in, and she felt so full that his dick reached so deep in her.

She moved slowly, and although it felt good, it made him lose his mind. That was his fault, though. He is the one who suggested that. With that, he guided her to lay down on his chest, keeping her movements as he whispered praises and loving notes against her ear.

“Good girl, baby”, “fuck, you take me so good”, “keep going, lovie, use this cock”, “you are all mine, doll, gonna cum inside you over and over to prove it”.

The intimacy and care felt so good - too nice actually. She could only moan gently as her hips rocked slowly, making both feel him stretching her out perfectly.

Maybe it was their connection or the genuine trust and love built between them, but it all felt magical. Leon was a skeptical man, but in times like this, he believed they were genuine soulmates born to belong to each other.

Filled with love, they came together as they shared a kiss, her gummy walls feeling the moment he coated them with his cum.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

As minutes went by, and as she fell asleep slowly creeping in, he suddenly pushed her on the bed, putting a pillow underneath her as he laid her on her front. He guided her hips up and looked apologetic “just one more love, need to love you good”.

And with only that as a warning, he started to thrust fast into her, setting the pace roughly as their bed shook as she could only moan and whine, biting into the pillow underneath her in ecstasy.

His hips pistoned into her, watching her ass bounce on his hips as he disregarded any medical indication. he just wanted to fuck her the way they have been craving, with raw and needy passion.

“Best pussy I had… my little whore that loves when I stretch her hole, right?”

She only moaned in agreement, overjoyed as he dirty talked her into another upcoming climax.

“Can't even speak, already drunk on this cock, isn't that true, darling?” he asked cockily.

She only nodded, keeping her mouth on the pillow and drooling all around it, sure that if she let's go she's gonna wake the entire neighborhood.

His cock had a white circle on its base, her pussy so creamy from many orgasms that made his thrusts appear seamless. He grunted as he watched his member enter and leave her hole, thinking that he would fight the apocalypse every day if it meant coming home to that.

“Fuck, my slut's pussy is the best at taking me. I'm so proud, honey, love when you are my fuck doll, ready to reward me after the hard work I do”

She couldn't bear when he was like this; he always managed to say the right things, making her clench around him.

“Yeah, you agree, don't you? This pussy belongs to me, and I need to keep using it” he moaned and gave a spank to her ass, making her hips buckle.

He thrusted harder into her, slapping her ass more till it became sensitive enough to ache as he pounded into her behind. He didn't want to accidentally hurt her; there was no need.

The spanks, the thrusting, his voice, it all convoluted in her final orgasm, making her squirt on his shaft and sheets, letting her thighs become messy as well.

Feeling her tightening and her juices oozing out of her, he lost control and came inside her once more, emptying his balls for the last time this night. 

He kissed her once more, leaving to grab some towels and gently clean them, returning to their bed and laying satisfied, closing his eyes and caressing her sweaty hair.

Sleepily, she looks at him with heart eyes, mumbling. “I love you. Thank you for coming back to me. “

Leon smiled, hugging her tighter. “I will always come back to you.”

Even if he had to fight every day for survival, it was worth it. He knew that he was making the world a safer place for her, and that was enough for him.

[appleblueberry-pie]

Im back with another yandere satoru request hehehe

So, I was wondereding what would happen if Satoru's beloved found out about his very unhealthy obession with her?

Hold on, lemme cook rq- So, instead of getting the fuck away from him (like most logical people would do) she decides to try her best to get him some help. Like, she'd confront him about his very distirbing behavior, (basically tearing down his entire facade and presenting it to him) and when he's begging her not to be afraid of him, not to abandon him, she tells him that she wants him to get help.

Heres where I kinda got a little stuck....the thing is...he would listen to her every beck and call, but would he really get the help he needs, or would he decieve her and trick her into beliving that he's getting better when in realitly he hasn't changed at all. (He's just alot more careful about what he does behind her back.)

Mkayyy, thats all folks. Thanks for coming to my ted talk.

You kept hearing noises from your backyard.

It woke you up. You couldn't really recognize what it was, but you really hoped it wasn't raccoons eating your berries again. You admit, your garden has many fruits and vegetables, but you certainly didn't want them being eaten. They took too long to grow! So, you got out of bed, threw on your robe over your night gown and quickly made your way downstairs to your backdoor.

When you opened the door and stepped onto the grass, everything seemed fine. Your strawberries were intact. Carrots still growing. No lemons dropped from the tree. But to the far right, you did see a familiar figure continuously puncturing another man's insides with a pretty dangerous looking knife thing.

Someone was in your yard.

Someone was being killed in your yard.

You're within distance of a killer.

By the time the realization set in, the familiar looking man had already saw you staring at him. It was Satoru Gojo.

You both stared at each other. It grew painfully silent and you took a step back, your eyebrows furrowing. You began hearing your heartbeat in your ears and began breathing faster. Your lips separated, probably to scream, and Satoru dropped the knife, immediately running over to you to shut you up in time.

When he trapped you in his arms, you tried to scream in surprise, but he already had one of his hands covering the entire bottom half of your face. "SHHHHHHHhhhhhh. shhhhhhhh. shhhhhh." His heartbeat thumped against your upper back and you tried to look up at him. He was already staring down at you with those big blue eyes and you tried to take his hand off of your mouth. "It's okay, baby. You're alright. It's alright."

Well, he didn't kill you, so clearly you didn't have to be scared. You still tried to talk and he tilted his head. "......you gonna scream if I let you go?" You shook your head. He stared down at you, as if he was trying to catch you in a lie. But then he laughed and finally loosened his hold on you. You took his hand off of your mouth and turned around. "...............Why are you killing someone in my yard?"

He says nothing.

You try to look back at the corpse and he blocks your way. "Fertilizer."

You avert your gaze and hug yourself. "For your tree."

"I already fertilized it two weeks ago. You were there. It doesn't need fertilizer until like a few months later." Satoru goes silent and sighs.

"Alright, babe. You caught me." He stalks closer to you and stops when he's directly in front of you.

"I killed him because he was a terrible waste of space." His smile was unnerving and you only felt more uncomfortable and confused. "What....?" "....He was useless. And he got in the way." The way he spoke made things a little awkward between the two of you. Did this have something to do with you and him? You hoped not. But with the way he said it, and the way he was staring at you began giving you confirmation that this was the case.

"He doesn't deserve you like I do." You inhale sharply and take a step back towards your door. "Satoru-" "No, I'm serious."

"You can't just....kill someone. He's dead!" His shoulders shake as he laughs at your statement. "You think I don't know that? That's the whole point. To die." You shake your head, "I-I need to get you help. This isn't okay. You shouldn't think it's okay to kill someone just to....I don't even know."

"To have you," He states. But you didn't hear. You were already back in the house to research different forms of treatment he could possibly receive. You didn't know what you were going to do with the body.

Satoru did plan to use it as fertilizer.

He lied to you for 12 weeks. And he hated every second of it. He never liked hiding shit from you. Which is why he straight up told you that he killed that dumbass from a while ago. You deserve better than some liar. But he'd be damned if he let some random take you away from him. So, he told you that he was going to the therapist that he been paid off and also killed.

He told you the body was taken care of and you didn't have to worry about it. After all, your tree leaves looked perkier than usual(he didn't tell you that either).

When you heard he was consistently meeting with his therapist, you let him take you out more often. You let him hang out at your place to have sleepovers if you had the time, and you realized that you might have a small crush on him. You shouldn't have a crush on a killer, but here you were. You should've called the police on him a long time ago(not like he'd get rid of them either), but he promised you he'd be good. And he has been. So you trust him.

Satoru learned to stop doing things like being a killer when you're around. It was smart to do it at night. But definitely not where you live. Probably the stupidest thing he's ever done. He should buy that house a few towns off. Everyone would be better off dying in there anyways, especially if there'd be no trace of them in the first place.

He's lucky you're gullible.

[navstuffs]

Nude painting class

Pairing: RookieRE2!Leon x BustyF!Reader

Summary: You and Leon continue meeting in weird circumstances.

Warning tags: au, written with busty/curvy reader in mind, but anyone can read it, SMUT MINORS DNI, nudity, blowjob (m receiving), mask/hidden identity, cum, nudity, tiny cum play, deep-throat, switch!leon, leon loves your tits, ingrid is my oc

Author's Notes: hiiii! my husband gave the ideia (again) for the second part of traffic stop (spoiler alert: he gave the idea for the third/final part as well and it is THE BOMB!!). HABEMUS smuuuuuut! which i want to remind you all, i am no expert, and i hope to continue improving (since for the final part i will def need it)! hope you have fun reading it!

part 1 | my leon's masterlist

"Nude painting?"

Your friend Ingrid nods her head, excited. You look at yourself: short floral dress, make-up-ready. That wasn't exactly what you had in mind when you came all the way from Raccoon City to celebrate Ingrid's birthday. You came to have fun, get wasted, and end up in some strange man's arms. Not to paint.

"What happened to the Ingrid that loved drinking and partying?" Ingrid simply shrugs, resting against the passenger seat from the rideshare app. Well, it is her birthday, not yours.

"What about you? When are you leaving Racoon City?"

It is your time to shrug now. You decided to stay when Ingrid and most of your friends moved at the end of high school. You never thought of moving away.

"I love you, but Racoon City has nothing in there. It is a small town everyone leaves as soon as they can. What possibly can keep you there?"

A sudden pair of blue eyes crosses your mind, and you feel your face heating up. Ingrid opens a smirk, holding you in the arm.

"Wait, wait, there is someone?" You bite your lips, shaking your head.

"No, there is no one!" Ingrid holds into your arm, pressing you to tell her.

No, there wasn't. You only met Officer Kennedy once and never saw him again. It is not like you were looking hopeful at every police car that passed. Which you weren't. Or wondering if Leon was thinking as much of you as you thought of him.

You try to take Officer Kennedy out of your head for tonight. He is probably five hours away, doing who-knows-what. You are there to have fun.

-x-

Chris crosses his arm, watching Leon walk back and forth, both already dressed in robes. Chris has a malicious smile on his face: he was the one who convinced Leon to do this. Leon needed the money to help pay for his college anyway.

"I swear, you are fine! We are like, what? Five hours away from Racoon City? Who the fuck would see you? And you are going to be wearing a mask anyway!"

Leon knows this. He knows he is very far away from his workplace, yes, he would be wearing a mask to hide his identity. All of that should serve to ease Leon, but it doesn't. He has this strange feeling inside of him, growing since he arrived. 

Before they leave their locker area, Leon is handed a black full-face Venetian mask. He has his hair back with gel, making it all spiky. They are taken to the paint room, Chris giving a thumbs up before they enter the main room.

Leon is trying hard not to place his hands in front of his dick when he gets to the room, although he is still technically covered. There are around twenty to thirty women in front of blank canvases, all eyeing them up and down. His job is to pose and maybe walk around. Easy peasy, Chris mentioned, and you don't even have to talk.

Leon lets his eyes glance around the room. Most women are excited, talking with each other. That's when Leon notices a woman he never thought he would see right here, his heart beating fast against his chest. One that has not left his mind since the traffic stop.

Leon could not believe his bad luck.

-x-

Ingrid is vibrating with excitement when the models start to come out. You warn her to ease on the wine, but Ingrid says it is her birthday, so she can do whatever she wants. Your eyes went from the stronger one with dark hair to the leaner blonde one, hair pulled back with gel. Why did you feel like you knew him?

"Can we touch them?" Ingrid interrupts your thoughts, excited.

"We can NOT touch them, Ingrid! Not if you want to get kicked out of here!"

You hear screams and claps around, and when you turn back, they take their underwear off. Well, great you lost the strip tease. Your eyes go from the brown-haired one to the blonde. Well, it seems he was hiding some muscles in there.

Your eyes go down to his abs, and it stops just above his pubic hair. Should you dare to look more? Oh, fuck it. It is Ingrid's party, you are there to have fun, you remind yourself. You look down at his cock, and you gulp, staring at it a little longer than you should.

"Okay, I get the brown-haired one, you get the blonde one," Ingrid whispers, startling you.

Your stare finally crosses with the model, and he is highly interested in you. You immediately look away, cheeks heating up, focusing on your canvas. You grab the first brush and paint you find and start painting.

The following two hours feel long for both you and Leon. You must look to draw your model, but if you had glanced three times during that time, it would have been too much. Ingrid, half drunk by now, kept her eyes focused on him every time he passed. You barely moved, his leg brushing lightly against your back.

"I think he likes you," Ingrid whispers, covering her mouth.

"Ingrid, he does not!"

"He keeps passing here, staring at your tits. I think he is getting hard as well."

"Ingrid, he isn't staring at my tits!" You say more loudly than you should. Ingrid slowly turns away, and when you go back to your side, Blonde's cock is literally inches away from your face. You don't move, paralyzed, analyzing from the corner of your eyes. He has some pubic hair in there, not entirely shaved (which gave him more charm). You watch as it suddenly twitches in your line of vision, making you lick your lips.

You hear a low clearing of the throat, and you look up, a very intense blue eyes staring at you right back. With your cheek heating up, you lock in his gaze, wondering what would happen if you shove his cock down your mouth.

"And class is up! Let's see what you did, people!" The teacher announces, waking you and the model for your trance.

He quickly moves away from you as you stare at your horrible paint, half of what was supposed to be a human body done in there. Ingrid's paint looks much better.

"Hey, yours look good!"

"You can focus more when you aren't flirting with your model!"

"I was NOT flirting!"

-x-

Leon slams the locker door open, frustrated. It is far away from Raccoon City, Chris said, you will be fine, he said. And yes, Leon would have been fine if he didn't find himself in front of the woman who had been pestering his mind for the last couple of months. Leon had lost count of how many times he fapped for you, your boobs on his mouth, your tits around his cock, as you took him in your mouth, your boobs bouncing as you rode him.

"...bathroom? Oh, shit, I am so sorry!"

Of course, it had to be you, lost on your way to the bathroom and entering the model's locker room instead. Blonde has his back turned against the door. You can't see his face, but you notice as he quickly grabs the mask before him in the locker. Your eyes start going down to his jeans pants and the line of his underwear. Neither you nor he move until you mutter, embarrassed.

"I am really, really sorry."

"I don't think it was an accident. You came here looking for something, didn't you?" Leon tries to mask his voice, going deeper. Inside, he is freaking out. What if you run away screaming, pervert? He is a cop, for Christ's sake! He has stopped you in traffic before, this would be so unethical in levels he didn't even know of.

You stay quiet until Leon hears the door closing and being locked. He turns around, and you look timid by the door, looking anywhere but him, rubbing the front of your dress with your hands.

"Come here. Sit." Leon says, pointing to the bench in front of him. Leon is thankful you don't look up as you sit. You would notice his nervousness, even through the mask, his hands shaking.

He first looks at your cleavage, a tiny part of your green bra poking. Leon wants to touch and grope them, feel them against his hands, but he holds himself back. Leon gently grabs your chin to look at him.

"I saw the way you looked at me in that class. I know you want me, don't you?" You nod, forgetting about Ingrid outside or that you could get in trouble for this. Leon opens a smile, but you can't see it. "Then come on. Open your mouth. "

Leon doesn't have to say twice. You open the button of his jeans, pulling down his underwear with your shaky hands, causing it to fall altogether. He is hard already, leaking. You waste no time shoving down your mouth.

"Shit. Fuck. Li-like that," Leon groans. Not even in his wildest dreams he thought he would have your pretty lips around his cock. And it feels much better than he imagined in any of his fantasies.

You start to move your head down Leon's length as you go deep into your throat, and Leon thinks he can't survive much of this. Leon looks down at you, pulling your dress down and your bra up much rougher than he intended to expose your boobs. Surprised, you moan as Leon places his hand on the top of your head, keeping you moving. 

Your boobs are finally in his view, and he can't believe it. They are exactly as he remembers. Leon watches you rub your legs against each other when he gropes one of them. He could cum like that.

Leon starts bobbing your head up and down, trying to keep his moan as low as possible. The small locker room is filled with his whimpers, and you know you will never forget about them. He is rough but gentle at the same time, making sure you are not gagging and leaving you space to breathe.

"I am clo-close. So close," Leon stutters, and you think you heard that voice somewhere before. "I want to cum all over your boobs."

You nod, your wetness asking for your attention, but focusing on Leon for now. When Leon thinks he is close, he pulls his dick out of his mouth with a plop, and Leon releases his cum all over your tits and bra. You watch, astonished, as the man in front of cums, moaning loud. The only thing you can properly see is his blue eyes rolling, making sure he covers your boobs with his cum.

When he is done, he looks down at you, his breath noisy against the mask. Leon's breath hitches when he sees your index finger pass on top of his cum and take it to your lips, licking it clean. 

Oh, you wanted to kill him.

With a sudden shot of lust into his blood veins, he lifts you up and makes you turn around. On all fours for him, legs spread apart, your hands support themselves in the walls before you. You are soaked, Leon notices, soaked because of him. When Leon places a warm hand against your ass, a sudden knock on the door makes you both jump.

"Hey? Is someone here still?" The voice of the manager of the place sounds curious by the door.

Silence.

You hear the insistent knock, looking at Leon over your shoulder. He lifts his hand up, motioning for you to stay silent.

"Still here," Leon answers.

"Going to lock the building in less than ten minutes, man! Hurry up!"

"I will be out soon!" Leon answers.

The steps start going away, and you suddenly remember Ingrid. Has she even left? With all strength in the world, you straighten up, your hands going to your bag. There were at least three missing calls from her and five text messages wondering where you are. Decided, you start organizing yourself, not even looking at the man before you. You look around for a towel or anything you can clean yourself, and Leon offers you one. 

"Thanks." You clean your boobs, deciding what to do about your bra. With a sudden decision, and to make you remind you of him, you take it off, placing it on his hand. You smirk as he stares at you. "So, you can remember tonight. Remember me."

You pull your dress up, and Leon watches as your nipples hard against the fabric. He doesn't want you to go, he wants to touch you more, but Leon occupies himself, pullings his underwear and jeans up. You two stare at each other for a moment before you nod.

"Well. It was nice, mhm fun."

Say something, Leon. Say anything. Don't let her go like that. Leon doesn't say anything, simply watching you leave, a little disappointed, the door closing behind you with a click.

Leon throws the mask away, finally giving a good breath. His forehead is sweaty, and he could barely breathe on that thing. The back against the cold locker calms him. Leon finishes organizing himself, feeling a little sad you didn't recognize him from before. How would he be if he was wearing a mask? Leon didn't want to be recognized. Leon shakes his head, ignoring the sad feelings on his chest. He let himself go too far.

It is time to forget you.

-x-

Ingrid is sitting down by the parking lot alone. You apologize a hundred times, and she is furious, thinking you got killed or kidnapped before she calls the rideshare app. You promise you will pay her back when you see a motorcycle coming out at the side of the building. 

The man wears a dark helmet, and you just know by the clothes that this is the model you gave a blowjob. He seems to stop, watching you two alone in the parking lot, his leg on the ground. Again, that familiar feeling is in your chest. He seems to be waiting on something, his stare focused on you and Ingrid. Like he is keeping an eye on you and Ingrid, all alone in that parking lot, late at night.

"Come on, it is here! No more letting you out of my sight tonight!" Ingrid grabs you by the arm. You shot one last look at him before getting into the car.

With a sudden realization and the motorcycle passing fast in the opposite direction, you remember why you felt so familiar: the model had the exact eyes of Officer Leon Kennedy.

[postersofleon]

gonna bully re6 leon because he needs to be humbled. the way he disrespected chris is still living in my mind. angry/mean sex. fem!reader

the trip back to america was silent. you and leon sat silently in a hotel. you tapped on your foot, feeling annoyed that leon thought he was right. you were the only idiot making progress in the simmons case while leon pointed a gun at chris. "i," you attempted to swallow your anger towards your boyfriend, "why, why didn't you just fucking read my reports?" you even worked on it with ada to see the consequences of simmons, but the moron thought carla was ada. you repeatedly tried over and over through cons or messages and the idiot read it way too late.

"i always feel like I'm talking with a stupid brick wall."

leon opened his legs to man spread, "i thought i was doing right."

"yeah, and what did that get you?" you asked him. leon faked his death to chase simmons and... he gained what? new wounds she has to clean up. you rubbed your face, "and ada still having to clear your name because you focused on the wrong things."

he grimaced for a bit. "simmons was threatening the situation."

"did you even try to ask the people around you?" you asked him. "i know you and Chris don't speak a lot, but, fuck," you couldn't help but laugh, "you are so lucky chris is a good guy. you threatening him for ada despite you knowing shit."

leon's face turned red, "ada saved me. ada had saved the two of us so many times-" his voice was raising every second he got more angry. you laughed softly, he was unbelievable sometimes. "yeah, and defending her for neo-umbrella." you snapped back, "jesus, kennedy, i didn't know you fucked with neo-umbrella. was i the only one actually trying to form a friendship with ada?" the three of them have met for so long. ever since raccoon city, you were the only one who apparently spoke to ada.

leon's nose twitched, "i just wanted to help her."

a small silence was between you two. you two always swore to have sex if an argument was getting too bad. leon took off his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. you followed his direction. you took off your jeans and kicked them down.

"you are a fucking idiot." you hissed softly before sitting on his lap. you rubbed against his bulge, "you are only worth it because of your cock." you grabbed his face.

leon glared at you, but once he felt your pussy lips rubbing on his bulge he groaned weakly. "bitch..." he muttered back. your breaths were mixing with each others. leon's eyes soften for a second until he remembered his anger.

he leaned in and kissed you, nearly throwing you to the ground. leon ripped open your shirt and slapped your tits. "those fucking tits always so fucking needy. you are so angry with me yet your cunt needs me." you grunted weakly from each slap. his hand grabbed your tits and squeezed it.

"you fucking asshole." you moaned weakly. leon dove in and sucked on your nipples. his teeth nibble on the pebble and gently tugged on it.

"you love my bullshit." he muttered softly.

trimming was enough for the two of you.

leon tugged down his underwear and rubbed his cock around your covered panties, "you fucking love my bullshit." you were getting more pissed off and leon moaned softly. "your pussy..." his fingers tugged the sides of your panties. his pre-cum was trailing down your own pubes that you didn't have time to shave completely. you worked too much to worry about it, and leon was the same.

the tip of his cock dragged around your pussy lips. "look at you... god... i need to marry you before i fuck up too badly." his tip circled around your clit making your back arch.

leon's fingers harshly rubbed your clit and they slowly slide down your hole. harshly moving his fingers deep in you. your eyes rolled back as you moaned loudly. "pu-put your stupid cock to work..." you mumbled softly. leon nodded his head.

in the end of the day, leon loved your pussy more than anything. he removed his fingers and slowly slid into your hole. he moaned softly. his anger turned into lust so quickly. your warm walls were always so good. you grabbed his chin and forced him to look at you.

"you need to apologize to chris."

leon nodded his head, "i will. i promise." he grabbed your legs and put them on his waist. you tighten around his cock and he moaned pathetically.

leon is a moron who can't think straight, but he shuts up so fast when he is inside of your cunt. those pathetic little cries of pleasure, his cheeks all red because he wants to keep quiet. leon was moron. you roll your hips so he can feel those specific details, his pathetic cock slips out and oozes out his cum on your tummy.

"i'll be good. i'll shut the fuck up." he grabbed his cock and put it back inside. you two moaned together as he began to push himself deeper into you. your butt was raised from the ground as he pounded you faster and deeper. his balls hit you over and over. his face was in front of yours. the anger in your eyes vanished for a second. you fucking loved this idiot. you kissed you, he stopped thrusting for a bit to properly kiss you.

"i love you..." he mumbled against your lips.

"i love you too."

leon smiled brightly before continuing to fuck your pussy. he rubbed your thighs gently and held your ass tightly against the palm of his hand. he didn't want to lose you despite it sometimes being seen like that. especially with the way you looked at him. he moaned softly, you had the galaxy in your eyes everytime he was around.

he pounded you faster over and over. his hand grabbed you a bit too hard that you moaned loudly. leon was bending you more and more, your legs were completely off the ground as he kept and kept going. the tip of his cock hitting your spot over and over. "leon... leon!" You grabbed his injured shoulder, he hissed out with pain but kept going. his cum painted your wall and filled you up. leon looked at you weakly, he was just an idiot in love with his girlfriend. his hand gently caressed your face. his fingers caressed your lips, "i'm sorry." He whispered softly.

[fieldsofwriting]

Can all the bachelors and bachelorettes from FoM sing, or at least know how to?

Ooooh this is a good one!! I’m gonna do who can and can’t sing as two separate categories.

Can’t Sing:

- Balor: sorry buddy. I just look at him and I’m convinced he can’t hold a tune. I think he can ‘sing’ I can see an easier song- one that’s more spoken in tune rather than sung sounding really good. But as for singing? No. Mans can’t sing.

- Juniper: I love her. I really do. But I can not be convinced she can sing. I’ve heard her laugh (/aff) and I think she would be tone deaf. I’m so sorry.

- Adeline: Simualr to Baylor, I dont think she’s awful if she tries. But I think she’s a hummer not a singer if that makes sense.

Can Sing:

- Celine: My beloved girl can sing. She sings as pretty as the flowers in her garden. She probably sings shyly, I don’t see her being an overpowering voice. But I also like to imagine she sings lullabies to Dell when she spends the night.

- Ryis: He can sing. 100% there’s no doubt in my mind. He’s like a disney prince singing to his beloved birds. I also think he can whistle like a pro, he likes to say the birds taught him.

- Valen: I can not explain this. She can sing. And it’s Opera. I think she’d fuck up the Opera bro, she’s got this regal sophistication that just screams Opera.

- Eiland: I think he’s better at singing that his sister, but still not the best out of those who can sing. Similar to how Adeline hums while she works, I can see him digging and singing to himself.

- Reina: She can sing too, for sure! Hemlock is a performer, I definitely think it’s something she inherited from her dad. Plus I can see her jamming out in the kitchen and singing while she’s really in the zone for cooking.

-March: I think he can sing. But he would rather take that to his grave than ever admit it. He doesn’t hum, he doesn’t whistle. You would think this man has no musical bone in his body but then he’d be rocking your baby to sleep one night and you’d hear the most soft and beautiful voice from him.

Wild Cards:

- Hayden: I genuinely can not think if He would be a good singer, or a bad but endearing singer. If he’s good, then he sings to his animals every night some sweet country and they love it. If he’s bad? Then he still does it but they all love it still because he’s trying his best. I think he’d ether have the voice of an angel or sound like a raccoon trying to get out of a garbage can.

Bonus!

- Orlic: I think he’s got the voice of an angel. He gets so much praise and love from everyone because he sounds so good. He’d sing any and every where he got the chance. Not to show off necessarily but just because he likes it and it makes people smile! 

[stardust-thief]

ada wong x reader enemies to lovers and we make out in the end please and ty

hello @omorebi u cannot hide from me!! dinner is served rue i hope it's good enough for u

synopsis: you're helping leon find ashley graham in spain, for a moment you're seperated from them both. but never fear! ada wong is here to save the day (she does no saving, like at all she just looks hot), 1.3k

cw: no smut but there is tension, and maybe a little knife play rue don't look at me, vague non-lethal threats, mention of raccoon city incident in re2, lip locking, they make out hard, ada is a tease, and a little ooc im sorry

request /// masterlist

After a long, hard trek through a Spanish village, you would think a castle would be a welcome reprieve. While it was better than facing waves upon waves of crazed villagers, it still did nothing to soothe the anxiety coursing through your blood.

It was clear when you and Leon were assigned to the case that it would be strange, no one would give a normal assignment to the survivors of the Raccoon City incident, but nothing had really prepared you for this. In some way, it reminded you a lot of that September night back home. Swaths of innocent people brutalised by something they had no part in, minions to a powerful man's schemes. If you were anything less, seeing it all happen again might have broken you. But years of being forced to work under the government made you no damsel in distress.

The two of you had worked your way through the village, finding Ashley, and ended up inside the desolate castle walls. Where you promptly lost them both! Ashley’s infection was getting worse, making her more volatile and scared. Honestly, you could hardly blame the girl. Feeling the virus worm its way through your own body was hardly something you were happy about. Which was exactly why you needed to find them again, preferably before the virus took complete control. Leon had met a scientist named Luis Sera who had promised you all the cure to the virus, if only you could find him again. The Spaniard had a habit of popping up and disappearing at the most inopportune times.

With no choice but to move forward, you pushed the colossal door open and found yourself face to face with two figures in a clock, both had gargantuan alien maws on top of their normal heads. You rolled under one as it reached out to grab you and pulled yourself up so you were now facing their backs. The creatures slowly turned around as you reached for the gun in your thigh holster and disposed of the one on your left. You switched your aim to the second, pulled the trigger and - click. No more bullets. Fuck. With every step the monster took forward, you took two back, reaching into your pocket for more bullets. As soon as you bring the gun back to aim, the creature falls dead to the floor. 

“Thought you were smart enough to not get caught reloading like that.” A smooth, syrupy voice says from behind you. “Could’ve got hurt real bad there.”

As you turn you say, “Well then, it’s a good thing I had you there Ada. Always saving the day.” Ada Wong was a mercenary who you first met in Raccoon City. From your previous galivants with her you knew she was trouble. Unfortunately, you also knew that she was maybe the hottest person you’ve ever seen. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here. Leon, yes, but I never expected you to become their lapdog as well.” She crooned.

“A little hypocritical don’t you think? What’re you here for this time Ada?”

“Oh, how I do love hearing my name from your lips. I’ve missed you, you know. Six years has been too long.”

Is she trying to seduce you right now? In this dusty room with two still warm corpses behind you? Is it working? “Stop trying to distract me Ada, I have a mission to complete so unless you’re here to help me I suggest you step aside.”

“Right, you’re here for the girl. She’s a lost cause, you should get out of here while you still can.”

“Ada, you know I can’t do that. I’ve got to get back to Leon so if you could get back to whatever plotting and scheming you’re doing and leave, that would be great.” You bit out.

She hummed and took a step closer to you, “I could help you, if you wanted it. I know you’re sick from the virus. How long has it been in you now? I have the cure, you just have to be willing to pay.” With every word her voice grew deeper and deeper, it thickened into something soothing to listen too. It almost made you want to agree with her.

“No, Ada.” You snapped, “Leon and I found someone with the cure, I don’t need your scraps.”

“You wound me, truly. I guarantee you I could help you quicker than Luis could, all I need is a little something from you. I promise it won’t hurt.”

“How do you know Luis?”

She frowned at you and cocked her head, “How bad at my job do you think I am? I’ve known about Luis Sera longer than you have.”

“That bastard’s on your side isn’t he?” You tighten your grip on the gun, a motion that doesn’t go unseen by the woman across from you. “He’ll make the drug and you’ll sell it to the highest bidder, I knew you hadn’t changed. Get out of my way Ada, I don’t want to play this game with you.”

“Or what, you’ll shoot? It’ll take a lot more than that to put me down. Or we can tussle, let it all out?” As she (rather euphemistically) spoke, she unsheathed a blade from her side and positioned herself as if to fight. Her form was uncharacteristically bad, her left side was completely open, as if she somehow forgot how to fight hand-to-hand combat. Which you knew was a lie considering how natural it came to her in Raccoon City.

Taking the bait, you  threw your gun to the side and moved into her space; you spun her so her back was pressed to your front. In your hands was her knife, her knife that was pressed against her throat.

You felt her throat bob as she said, “Nice move hotshot, who taught you that one?” Without even letting you respond she twisted you both around and pressed you into the wall, knife now somehow back in her possession. She traced the point down the middle of your chest. “Not nice enough.”

The air thickened as she pressed her body closer to yours, you could feel every curve on her body, feel every breath she took. Unbidden, your eyes moved down to trace the shape of her lips. You watch as the corners tilted upwards. Her breath warmed as it hit your face, she leaned in further until your lips were ghosting each other. You looked up to see her eyes boring into yours. 

Much to your chagrin, you closed the gap between your lips. Hers were smooth and warm, nothing like how chapped your mouth had gotten due the Spanish heat. You wouldn’t be surprised if Ada carried a secret compartment of lip balm in her shoe. The knife in her hand pressed further into your chest - not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to remind you it was there. Your hands rested on her hips, desperate to pull her in more. She let out a hum from deep in her chest and pulled away, laughing as you followed her movements.

“I don’t think Leon would be too happy to hear about this.”

Catching your breath, you spluttered, “Way to ruin the mood, Wong.”

“I live to serve,” she mused, “speaking of serve, I really must be off. The overlord beckons.” She moved towards the open window, letting her hand graze your body as she passed.

“You’re leaving? After that?”

“I thought you had a girl to find? Don’t worry, you’ll find me again soon.” With that, she took out her grappling hook and shot it off into the distance. 

Ada’s abrupt leaving shouldn’t shock you much, she was never one to like goodbyes. But riling you up like this was something new to the both of you. Honestly, it might be something you could get used to, if she weren’t fighting opposite you of course. 

Shaking the wildly inappropriate thoughts from your head, you recollected your gun and went to continue your quest into the castle. As you move, a glint from the window catches your eye. You find yourself picking up Ada’s knife again, the steel still warm in your hand. Maybe you two would meet again. It would be rude to not return a lady’s knife, after all.

[aldisobey]

Rook Questionnaire

@emmg yo thanks for the tag! I’m always happy to write too much about Worne. You asked for this k I can’t help but put down the full answer when I have it. I need this raccoon man to find your sewer rat because Nevarra is not good for them. Return him to the streets, get her to the beach, those tombs are freakin me out.

Anyways this is Rook ‘Worne’ Thorne. At this point he’s just Worne lol, I’m going to end up using it in the fic because it’s out of my hands it’s just who he is. Look I don’t plan on writing this info longform so I indulged here since I’m working on lichy epilogue stuff. This is the lovely foundational start I needed today. Enjoy if ya like it’s useful ref for me.

Where in Thedas is your Rook from?

Kirkwall. Specifically Darktown. It was horrible. He misses it dearly.

What is your character’s alignment?

Chaotic Good. He does crimes. They’re good. I’m a sanctioned DM okay I’ll argue this one lol

Race and subclass?

Human Rogue

If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found?

The Weisshaupt mission would go through the prisons for a section and he’s in there. Got a stash of books and literally didn’t know what was happening they forgot him in the drunk tank for fucking with the First Warden. One of the cells is considered his, he likes it fine down there. But hell yeah he’s ready to help out the Veilguard and get the fuck out of the Wardens completely. If he didn’t end up there he’s off duty at a bar in Docktown. Or in the thick of it running dangerous missions for Antoine and Evka in Lavendell.

What emotion did they usually pick?

Laughter. Joy. Where he is in life has never been in his control. Mood is his mastery. He’s choosing to chill and smile whenever he can. Life’s tough enough. Leads to a lack of decorum but he’s a very sincere person. Fuck being polite. If we’re talking what I picked in game options it was a mix. He is very kind and incredibly confrontational when needed arises. But he defaults to sincere joy if he can.

What companion are they platonically close with?

Davrin is his brother. They’re constantly picking at each other and ‘fighting’, messing with Lucanis, they have a running game for who can get the most mierdas in a day, and just being a menace to everyone at the Lighthouse when they get going. Rook looks up to Davrin in a way. Mostly because Davrin really is the expert on monster fighting. That’s sick. He also doesn’t hide his jealousy over not being chosen as a griffon ‘bodyguard’, he ‘steals’ Assan for himself plenty and they usually end up breaking something. But he’s pumped for Davrin’s book and steals figurines for a board game he’s designing. Davrin carves more of the same figurines once he notices and he’ll give him guff about it but he’lll still carve more.

They hold regular workouts with Taash and Worne is regularly handed his ass in any kind of martial training. Like Davrin, Taash, Lucanis, Harding…look, Worne’s excuse is his fighting style is brutal and not made for sparring. Like he’s not going to take out your eye here okay? He swears if this was real he’s winning. It’s doubtful. Davrin is his other platonic half but deep bonds are all around the Veilguard pretty quick, they’re family.

Neve is his beloved queen of an older sister, Lucanis is that quietly hilarious guy you’re actually scared of because he could kill you but he’s hopelessly in love with your sister who is too good for him but they make each other better and he better not fuck it up or you’re egging his ridiculous ass mansion daily. Spite is his bff. Assan is his twin. Bellara is his kid sister and he’s ready to shill her book. Emmrich has banned Bellara and Worne from unsupervised projects together because something always explodes and someone is going to lose an eye.

Taash is a rival that he always loses to, they’re the Goku to his Vegeta, he’s always a level behind and ‘furious’ about it. They’re always good naturedly flipping each other off. Harding is an equal sibling, she knew Varric, she holds a special place almost as close as Davrin, but it’s softer and they spend a lot of time talking and tending the garden together. Emmrich joins them sometimes. I can’t talk Manfred. It hurts.

Romantically close with?

Emmrich. Listen, it was a while on the road with just Varric and Harding, he was touch starved by the time they found the necromancer. This is not his first dalliance with a lover older than himself, that was never a concern. Had that mage clocked for a fun time minutes into meeting. He was not expecting romance. Thought they would have some fun, kill some gods, go on their way. But it very quickly morphed into something way way deeper. Like within weeks they’re living like an old married couple. That companionable ‘alone together’ all the time. They share a deep kindness, curiosity, and love of life. The fact that those core qualities come out in differing hobbies, likes, and manners is a delight to them both.

Of course they do share a near equal amount in common, it’s a nice balance at the end of the day when they want to be tangled up reading on the couch together. Little acts of service were almost immediate between them, just came naturally. Like here, made your cup of tea I was in the kitchen, oh I was in town got your favorite croissant and wouldn’t you know they were selling flowers, did you want to read this paper I finished? Oh is that a stray hair on your jacket, and have you hydrated you’re getting cranky. It’s just very obvious that they’re incredibly mindful of each other. Like second night at gathered dinner Worne knows what to pass Emmrich’s way and vice versa without asking, they’re just doing stuff for each other all the time as if it’s always been that way. They didn’t realize they were doing it, they’re just that way as people and literally couldn’t stop thinking about each other. The rest of the group could see how quick it was before they did. Easier to see the water when you’re not in it, the rest of the Veilguard could see them swimming together from the start.

Worne does see Emmrich as sheltered and naive and needing extra eyes on him outside of Nevarra. Like he’s the oldest of the group but also the most likely to get scammed or stabbed and Worne is ready to kill the person that thinks to try. Emmrich sees Worne as the indomitable chaotic force that he is, and does what he can to pump those breaks lest the Warden burn out. They both deeply care and are trying to keep the other safe in the ways they know how.

They both love how much they have to learn from the other and will yap about their very opposing life experiences and what they’ve gathered from it. At core Worne is dragging Emmrich out of those crypts to come live that ‘adventure’ with him. And Emmrich is trying to make sure Worne stays alive at this point so they can have their quiet (and not) evenings together when the days adventuring is through. Like please do not eat that thing you found on the ground it might carry the disease that does you in.

And they’re both degenerates and loving that. The Veilguard is aware and wish they weren’t so but Worne and Emmrich can’t help it okay they’re fools in love.

(The dynamic is very we can afford a plumber why are you reading a DIY to install the new sink, please I’m taking the car to the mechanic tomorrow how and why did you get the engine out? But oh that does look interesting. Did you have a good time at Paths of Glory night with Johanna? Yes book club was lovely as always. And they do not play board games or any type of games together anymore. It’s not good for their relationship and they know it and respect it. Worne does not like book club because he would rather just be reading.)

Who are they suspicious of?

The Viper. What secrets are under that mask. Those eyes. That voice. Also anyone named Eric. Nobles. Every noble is a suspect. Rich folk as well. Worne is suspicious of anyone with too much wealth, somehow his brain overlooks how rich Emmrich is. He can’t let it register because it would be such a ‘flaw’, like maybe we’re stealing all these things? If he knew the amounts Emmrich had paid on things for him he would lose his goddamn mind. Like go run in Arlathan for a week straight to atone, what has he become. He’s suspicious of wealth, doesn’t care for it, doesn’t value it beyond the security it gives and the power it might have for others safety.

Worne is suspicious of Vorgoth but more in the art scene criminality way than wondering what they might be. They’re a bastard is what they are. They’re a bastard for having a collection that good in private. Myrna isn’t suspicious she is business and he keeps a healthy respectful distance away from that kind of power. For now. He’s starting to figure out how this Necropolis works. He’s suspicious of necromancy as an instinct, and is throwing a hard look at Nevarra because it’s not ‘Emmrich’, it’s something else, he loves Emmrich, he thought Nevarra would be that. It’s not, and he's not sure he likes what he’s seeing. Pretty sure he hates it.

Does your Rook get along with their chosen faction?

Nope. Well, he loves the people. The Wardens are his kin. But he loathes the institution and the managing of it. Despises anything to do with the Joining, blight, darkspawn, and there is a piece deep down that is bitter that he never had a real choice when it came to where his life led. Like this type of thing, the thing he is a part of is wrong, or at least the way it operates and gains new Wardens is. The leadership loathes him, and uses him, but the people within would put their lives on the line for him. He’d hate that. Like he’ll always be a Warden to other Wardens, they’re family forever, but he’s done with the organization by the time he’s with Varric. He never planned on going back. He doesn’t want to fight stuff that makes his blood crawl. Doesn’t want to be anywhere near it. He’d die for the Wardens, but he’d never die for The Grey Wardens if that makes sense.

Are they proficient in playing any instruments?

Nope. But he is quite accomplished at whistling, but that’s a private affair.

Weapon of choice?

Daggers, knives, fists, literally anything in the near vicinity that might help. It’s very chaotic and brutal, there is no rhythm to it. Almost purposefully so, and he seems to risk or take hits to get in close for a lethal bleeding strike.

What is their orientation?

Slut. But a discerning slut. He’s too old to be wasting time with selfish lovers at this point. But if someone is up for learning him he’s game for studying them in a heartbeat.

What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?

Necessary. He’s not a pacifist. This is survival here and people are going to do what they can to live. He doesn’t enjoy it. Never has. He’d rather the need for it completely disappear, but he’s not one to hesitate. If it’s us or them he’s making damn certain it’s them. He killed that mayor. Money is never above people and he does not believe in the ‘death or Joining’ choice. He’s not sending anyone to a Joining. Just kill ‘em. He doesn’t care if it makes him a hypocrite.

What hobbies does your Rook have?

He loves reading, he had a hard time hiding his excitement when he realized just how many books Emmrich was moving in with. And that was only part of the collection from home?! That was his main excuse for constantly being in Emmrich’s study, and obviously he’d be quiet and out of the way and he couldn’t take the books out with him they’d get dirty or lost. He was in there as much as possible from day one.

Also loves any type of game and is notorious for never losing and always cheating. Says cheating without getting caught is part of every game, it’s an important lesson to learn. Johanna plays with him. Aware of the ruleset that all cheating goes. You only lose for cheating if you get caught, that’s their only stipulation. Their games are overly long or surprisingly short, and either deadly silent or violently loud, but it’s obvious to everyone they’re having the time of their lives. Their record against each other is neck and neck and no one can stand to play with them.

Emmrich originally tried to stay for a game or stick around for the companionship but he can’t be in the same room. It’s just…no he doesn’t know the rule from appendix F, please stop yelling about weighted dice rolls, for spirits sake would they stop fighting and he can’t think he’s leaving. And that’s when they gossip. Look, they both love Emmrich, they wish he could join in the gossip. But the man can’t lie to save his life, he’s horrible at keeping secrets. They can’t trust him with the best bits for his own safety. They’ll keep yelling about the game in between discussing the latest juiciest gossip Thedas has to offer.

Worne is always down to celebrate, party, bar hop, what have you. Being the party is a hobby alright and he’s practiced. Like he can’t plan well but he’s good at conjuring one if there are enough people and drinks and food. Usually starts with plenty of drinking games and assorted challenges and hijinks and ends with telling or sharing stories. He can’t write, never learned or practiced, but loves to tell a story, he’s proud to say they’re never told the same way twice. Emmrich made him some pens that can write what he dictates and Worne loves them dearly, uses them for bare fact journaling, but it’s just not the same as speaking. He tells stories he doesn’t write books. And he does it in bars. Or at parties. Or really for anyone that might want or needs one. He wants his stories alive in a way, putting them to paper makes them one thing and he doesn’t want that.

He loves being a part of griffon training but is no help. More hindrance than anything but he is fascinated. He’s also an avid runner when it comes to fitness. Running is survival he says and would be the ultra marathon type. When all else has failed running has saved him more often than not. None of the Veilguard can go on runs with him, they’ve tried. Taash is faster, but they can’t run so fast for nearly as long. He’ll just take off and be gone all day to Arlathan sometimes. Loves to see the sights at his own speed. They’re pretty sure that’s when the whistling is practiced at some point, but that’s Worne time you don’t interrupt.

Oh! And very recently he’s taken up gardening and he loves it, just absolutely delights. It started when he went to talk with Harding plenty and he started helping with her collection. Turns out Worne is a natural with plants. He’s better with them than Harding or Emmrich. Plants love Worne like spirits love Emmrich.

What NPCs do they like? Which ones do they dislike?

Okay so he was smitten by Dorian. That take down of the First Warden? The blatant fucking lying to his face? He was done in then. Instant comrades. Take me now thoughts. And listen. I feel like Dorian wouldn’t be able to crack Worne unless he targeted his very blatant weak spot for Emmrich. Like being snarky to Worne will just delight him. A good joke at his expense is an excellent joke. He’ll up the ante on himself. He would be pretty damn defensive of Emmrich if something felt off there, but Worne is one to see charming bluster and respond with delightful sincerity. So he likes going to the Shadow Dragons, he’s desperately trying to get a read on the relationship between Emmrich and Dorian, like what in the world are they now. He’s asking Johanna what that teaching Dorian period looked like for Emmrich but she can’t speak through the laughter.

Not a fan of Strife. He can feel it. The ‘what if’ and he doesn’t like taking Emmrich to Arlathan.

He smuggles illegal cheese for Myrna and has a contentious…something with Vorgoth. Vorgoth mostly ignores him but Worne is not a fan and is frustrated that Vorgoth is keeping their art collection all to themselves. Have a collection but art is for the people, he’s stealing that shit. Antoine and Evka are his parents, Mila is his niece. I have a deep feeling in my chest that Isabella loves him and he loves Isabella. Like maybe she lets him help do the announcements for fights sometimes and he likes to hang out at the pits if it isn’t a Docktown night. He makes fun of her for almost dooming Kirkwall with that theft of hers and laughs about the fixes she made to the Lords because of it. They talk Varric a lot. Worne really did love him, he shaped himself around the dwarf’s stories to survive, credits Varric for who he is. And he loves Rivain, like has a favorite tree hammock to sleep in there but cities hold his heart. Isabella feels like family, like an aunt he goes to visit and she keeps an eye on him since he lost Varric.

The Crows think he is actually insane. Cacophony of mierdas when he strolls in. What the fuck kind of rogue is that no, don’t wear the cape like that. Dear god take the cape off you will fall in the canal. Worne likes Treviso, he saved Treviso, but it’s too ‘rich’ for him. Like wearing tight tailored pants that make you walk funny. The fit is wrong. And he is just way too careless around very dangerous Crow things. Do not give him a fancy knife he will hurt himself messing with it and accidentally drink poison, why would you keep it in such a fancy glass? For some reason the most uninhibited part of his brain flicks on around the Crows and he becomes a ball of unbridled curiosity. He wants to learn about the ‘real rogue stuff’, and dives headlong in without a care for safety, just a desire to know and try and see, but it is not a fit for him. Crow style is the flame to Worne’s moth. They could never take him in as a fledgling, how would they train out those habits? They’re crows, he’s a raccoon.

Do they have a favorite creature in Thedas?

Griffons. He still can’t believe they’re real and back. He praises Assan too much. Inflates that ego to extreme proportions but he loves those weird cat birds and can’t wait until they’re big enough to take him flying in Arlathan. Emmrich is currently working with Bellara on a device that might slow one's descent when falling from great heights. The reality of it is that Worne is not great at caring for the griffons. They’re too alike. He’s too much of a kid around them. Davrin is the adult here, he’s looking after an annoying pair of younger brothers. Worne is not helping go tend to your plants.

Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?

He’s an adventurer? Worne sees himself as a guy. He’s just going from necessary task to necessary task to stay alive. Started with finding food as a kid, and wouldn't you know he has to kill god now or everyone dies, funny how it escalates like that. But yes. He loves life and living it despite everything. He’s not letting his path dictate his mood. That’s the indomitable spirit.

What would your Rook be doing if they weren’t recruited by Varric?

He’d still be out there killing darkspawn as a Warden. Possibly dead at Weisshaupt. Possibly dead in Lavendell. But hopefully hanging out with his parents Antoine and Evka.

How do you think they’ll meet their end?

Oof. He’s terrified of the Calling. And drowning. He’s hydrophobic. Thankfully no more Calling? Looking like he might be able to die old and peaceful at home, I think that’s the dream. I don’t like the alternative.

Would they side with Solas or fight him?

Oh he would tear Solas’ throat out with his teeth if that was a viable option. The only reason he’s willing to work with that traitorous piece of shit in the end is because it’s what Varric would’ve wanted. He doesn’t think about Solas or he’ll get mad. When he sees Dorian the first thing he will do is bring up how much of a shithead Solas is and how much he hates him and they’re off. If you notice Worne doesn’t hate much, he is very much a lover and liker of things. He hates Solas. Even more than he hates nobles and rich folk. He loathes a betrayer. Solas got his happy end, but that’s because Worne respected the fuck out of Lavellan. That was for her, Solas can suck an egg. And he’s going to shit talk her choice with Dorian as therapy, like love her, but fuck can you believe? He’s still mad. About Varric. About the blood magic. Like deeply justly pissed the fuck off over it. But like. Good for them. I guess.

What is your Rook’s favorite ability?

iframes. Hahaha, but no anything that stacks bleed. Cut ‘em up bleed ‘em out.

What languages is your character fluent in?

Common and conversational in dwarven. He’s not to Davrin’s level, but working as a Warden in the Deep Roads as long as he has it’s helpful to learn as much as you can.

What do they do after an absolute crisis?

Chess puzzles now that he has access to the books for it. Or any other game. Varric mentioned that it could be helpful when he was a kid. Recent trauma? Rote task moving pieces, nothing too difficult, puzzles. I like to imagine Thedas has a ‘Go’ equivalent and that’s likely his favorite for it. You could make a board for that out of dirt and stones and you bet he does. Emmrich gets him his first real set after Weisshaupt, Worne needs it. Do not mention how much Emmrich spent on it, that will upset him. Oh and he wants to fuck, go full no thoughts a bit.

Does your character believe in the afterlife?

Nope. He’s killed a lot of people and hasn’t seen any come back. Doesn’t want to. Feels wrong. He honestly doesn’t care to talk about it much to Emmrich’s dismay. It’s one subject that kind of depresses Worne, he’s lost a lot of people. No afterlife, an afterlife, either reality isn’t something he wants to dwell on.

What specialization best represents your Rook?

Duelist. But he is not a fancy fighter, no official training besides what they could give here and there at Weisshaupt, he’s got a lot of bad habits. Varric always said it was his constitution and spirit that kept him alive. Like he’s coming along to fight the gods because the worst flu and situations in Darktown couldn’t take him out and neither could the worst the Warden leadership could send him to. He got into Lucanis’ poisons and declared them ‘spicy’. He’s got Kirkwall’s own luck, but he’s also got it’s blood.

What animal best represents your Rook?

A street dog. You know the type. Can’t quite tell the breed, or the age, but they’ll lead you to the best hiking paths and follow you around town for pets and love. Separating cat fights, walking the streets, getting a snack someone left out for him. Won’t go home with you because he belongs to the world at large but you’ll enjoy all the time he spent with you that day. Ruggedly handsome fellow if not show quality. Like the entire town knows and loves this dog, that’s everyone’s dog. People will let you know that if you get lost just follow that dog and he’ll keep you safe from getting mugged or worse, bring you where you need to go. That kinda street dog. That’s Worne. The raccoon nature is just him as a man, it’s intrinsic.

What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?

Worne’s entire life has been one of survival. Just a series of escalations to this point really. He’s good at keeping the mood light and easy because he’s a frog in the boiling pot, this is just life yeah? He knows how to have joy in the midst of all that mayhem and survival. Like yeah it’s shit, I don’t have to be.

The pipeline was orphan in Darktown, street kid, thief, pickpocket. Varric named him Rook at six and got him into stories and books and would send what jobs he could. From there just kept in that ‘criminal pipeline’ until it led to gallows or Grey Wardens. Hated life as a Warden and let his disgust be known, always sent to the worst most dangerous jobs and always came crawling back with whoever they sent with him. Last job was the final straw but look, Varric needs him. Fuck was he ever excited for that.

Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

Worne is very serious about being the leader, but quietly so he doesn’t talk to anyone about it. Varric called him his second and he holds that with a heavy pride and sense of responsibility. After all, a leader serves, a leader doesn’t ask a follower to do any job they wouldn’t. He’s leading from the front and would never expect anyone else to take up such a dangerous position for him. This is the best way he can keep them all safe, and hey they all have specialities and things they’re very good at that are needed to kill the gods. His job is to keep the group together and on task and alive. Like he’ll take opinions and input. But when push comes to shove on Veilguard issues he will have the last word because that’s his responsibility.

He would rather be gardening, reading, running, playing games or doing nothing in a bar. But he is good at what he does. Varric named him second because he saw that flicker for running a tight group of ‘professionals’ through the worst possible situations. His entire life has been escalating worse scenarios he’s had to survive. He’s got experience with this. He’s not made for large organizations, nah he’s your heist man. He’s going to rob that bank or that art gallery with this group of degenerates. When it’s time for the real professional crime he’s your guy. But Varric would be the only soul that really knows the depth of that. And it’s not because Worne is exceedingly good at planning, he’s exceedingly good at creating and utilizing chaos, and he’ll cheat. He can flood a river so only he can ford it. Not many can stay so calm and lucid within it all but chaos is life for Worne and he swims it natural. To the Veilguard he’s just Worne, they’ve never questioned following him, he’s always there for them and first to the most dangerous task. Like he’s everyone’s big brother and you know he’ll get you home. Once those gods are dead he’s retired though, he’s claiming his rest.

If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?

You know he’d have the most fun being a poor Lord of Fortune. Like he doesn’t care a wit or a wink for gold but they seem to be having fun over there and he loves Isabella. But in all actuality he knows he’d go to the Shadow Dragons. Cities are home and he wouldn’t be able to rest right knowing he could help and they would take him. The whole mess in Minrathous is eating at him and he wants to fix it. Feels he has to fix it because he chose Treviso didn’t he? He wants to see Dorian in charge of things and help Neve navigate the Threads world with his experience from Kirkwall. Maybe steer away from what messed him up and get it more union style at the docks.

What’s your favorite thing about your Rook?

Look he’s just some guy trying to eat a croissant in peace at the park with his book and he’s waiting on a good chess game. Get him a cigarette and out of Nevarra.

Bonus: some of the characters that inspired him.

Look wise he’s a lower grade Faramir with brown eyes in my head. Personality wise uuuh reading all this holy shit that’s a lot lol, umm I think I based him off that street dog. Ahahaha I’m trying to think of others and I don’t know. I’ll edit in if I think of any but he was inspired by the thought ‘who would support the lich choice when in love?’ And well a besotted Warden terrified of the blight was my answer. These two idiots fucked up. This was a lovely break from that.

[thequeenofcupps]

!! ⊹ ࣪Hazard dating hc's⊹ ࣪ ˖ !!

A/N: @yourpalrowan requested this!

 I FINALLYYYY got my grubby little hands on a laptop I’m so sorry this took fucking forever to come out 😭

Warnings: phantom pains, depression(?), struggling with stuff, angst, fluff, swearing(?), the phreaks teasing the hell out of hazard, slight oblivious reader, girl boss pussy queen hazard, gentleman!hazard, mention of taking pills

⚠︎︎ Hazard first met you through Suzie, Suzie and the gang were at the same bar they usually go to, she first met you when she went to go grab something for the gang and after you and her started talking and hanging out you and her immediately clicked, after all the hangouts and bff dates she decided to take you to go meet the rest of the phreaks.

When Suzie first brought you to the Phreak’s place, they were all wary of you thinking you were a spy of sorts, but after Suzie started bringing you back more and more you started a friendship with all of them.

Hazard, however started to develop a huge crush on you, everytime you came he’d look at you with love in his eyes which the Phreaks saw besides you, cue them teasing the fuck out of him and them pushing him to confront you about his feelings, as to which he did :D

⚠︎︎ He first took you out on a date to a punk bar which during that date thought was a bad idea after both of you witnessed a fucking fight so he just took you out to go eat at a local diner 😭 

After the both of you got done it started raining and him being an absolute gentleman used his jacket as an umbrella for the both of you <3

⚠︎︎ after a couple dates you and haz decided to make it official and also decided to tell the Phreaks, after you told them they started fucking CHEERINGGG for you and him (mainly for him), when Revel and Jackdaw were talking to haz Boomslang, Touch-up and Suzie pulled you to the side to congratulate  you which left you confused cuz they’re acting like you and haz got married but still you were grateful for them

⚠︎︎ Hazard likes to play his guitar for you when the 2 of you are alone and you like to sing while he does play, hell even he’ll join you

⚠︎︎ sometimes he gets phantom pains really fucking badly that if there’s a mission they had planned for they need to push it back for him to have a rest day, but after you met him, he begrudgingly agrees for you to help him, but after you help him his ass is in HEAVEN

⚠︎︎ he loves seeing hang out with his friends and with maisie, even if you aren’t a big dog person, you like playing with her, and if you ARE a dog person that’s even better for you and Haz <3

⚠︎︎ on the term of you not being a dog person Hazard will take you out on a date to like a cat cafe or another animal cafe and you and him WILL be having a blast at those cafes, like he’s a sucker for raccoon cafes, otter cafes, cats cafes and dog cafes (you decided to take him out to a dog cafe against even if you don’t like dogs)

⚠︎︎ also on relaxing days with the him you guys like going to small businesses or like the farmers market for funsies, I picture him supporting small businesses in his free time because he likes seeing more art and trinkets made with love instead of the same ideas bigger companies make

⚠︎︎ he has depression, I think we all know that after everything that had happened to him, he takes antidepressants to help but sometimes when somethings wrong he’ll look for you, lay his head on your thighs and take about what's going on with him, and you’ll just listen to him quietly and sometimes you’’ll reassure him otherwise, he’ll also sometimes forget to take his antidepressants so you’ll like text him or tell him “remember to take your pills love <3”

⚠︎︎  have you guys seen that spray of hazard of him curling a weight? Yeah he’s hella strong man, like he everytime he sees you he’ll pick you up and spin you around like you’re a pretty princess :>, you like “helping” him do situps but in reality you just sit on his lap and everytime he sits you kiss him, he really loves it when you do that, if your short he’ll like put you on his shoulders and it doesn’t matter how much you weigh he does NOT give a flying fuck cuz he loves you so much.

⚠︎︎ he looks at you with so much love, like I said it doesn’t matter how much you weigh, or how you looks he loves you all the same

⚠︎︎ either boomslang or Touch-up are his wingwomen and Suzie’s yours.

I just felt like putting that out there

⚠︎︎ he likes it when you express yourself with clothes, art, poetry and more, he likes that you’re yourself without anyone telling you who or what to be, he thinks its so punk

A/N: I  feel SOOO bad about taking 5 thousand years to fucking make this, but I hope you enjoyed and thank you so much for requesting!

[ruthytwoshakes]

Bunch of two fort ladies hell yeah B)

headcannons of inconsistent length below the cut

Zhanna: reeeeeeoow!!! She’s so gorgoryse . gay as hell about all these women tbh. Yeah I just gave her body hair and thicker eyebrows because it’s cool as fuck. And a bear claw scar from when she tried to take home a baby bear when she was little. I think she really likes bears and wants one as a pet. Maybe the bear and soldier’s raccoons would get along aww <33

Admin: yipppeee evil old lady!!!!! . Gave her acne scars , think she would pick her face when she was younger and the scars never faded. shes so pretty heruhghhsg. She smokes these fucked up super long cigarettes idk. I like her wonky nose, maybe she got into a fight or something and broke it.

Scouts Ma: oh man I have so many ideas for her hehehhe. Okay so her name is Jenny, shes Puerto Rican, moved to Boston when she was a young adult, and she’s around the same height as sniper. She’s green because she’s both the scouts mother, and I didn’t want her to be purple like Pauling and Admin I wanted her to be her own person. Her heart locket contains a bunch of pictures of her boys that all cartoonishly fold out to the floor when she opens it up.

She’s bi and poly, and currently dating both the spies because I think it’s funny. I can’t decide if both the spies would also be dating each other or would hate each other, maybe it depends on the time of day. Oh also she used to be an assassin! Maybe that’s why she had to move because she got found out at her old hometown. Anybody who got too rough with her boys were never seen again, only reason the scouts made it out alive lol.

She’s only recently gotten back together with the spies, had a falling out with Red before she knew she was pregnant, but he wanted to reconnect with her after finding out Red scout was his kid. Blu and her were friends for a really long time, she was the surrogate mother to Blu scout, but they fell out of contact when Blu spy had to take scout and disappear due to some espionage work gone wrong. When both the Blus join the team, the red scout recognized them and Blu spy eventually reconnected with Jen through that.

All of her kids are out of the house and she’s retired, so she has a lot of free time. She hosts foreign exchange students and fosters baby animals. She does a lot of traveling and shopping, she also likes knife and axe throwing, while doing some abstract sculpting on the side.

Maggie:

I love Maggie she’s so interesting,, I really like the panels where she’s laughing with saxton on the plane. Oh yeah gave her a mustache cus she’s Australian!, don’t be shy give the pretty lady a mustache she deserves it. That line on her lip was from this one girl I had a crush on back in high school, she said that she was bullied for it. don’t think I’ve ever seen it on another person since. She was one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met. I hope she’s doing alright. She was a really good friend, real wonderful person.

Merasmus:

hi Merasmus how r u. oh yeah I’m trying out some other designs for her because I’m working on a little animated series about her and a magic spell she fucks up. I want her to be Sumerian because Sumer is so interesting!! I’ve been learning about the art from it in class, check out the Sumerian virtue status or the Epic of Gilgamesh they’re some of my favorite bits of history we’ve learned so far. Oh yeah also I think when she takes off that weird cap thing she has the longest most beautiful curly hair that goes down to her ankles because I love those kind of visual gags hehe. Also yeah she has piercings idk why I did that. I think she’s kinda blind and she uses her skull to see with her magic or whatever. I love her facial expressions in the comics,, have you guys seen the cunty Merasmus poster i love the cunty Merasmus poster

Miss Pauling:

MISS PAULFIJF LETS FUCMIGN GOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!! She’s got sideburns because im a dyke bleh blehhhh . hshe look at her big ass glasses I’m in love. Oh yeah I gave her lots of moles! And changed up her sleeve colors. Too tired to write much more lol

[imhere-imqueer-ilikedeer]

Respawn Denied Species Worldbuilding (Species Building? idk)

Since a lot of these guys have some headcanons of mine, I figured I'd make it all into a post so yall could see what I'm talking about when I mention the species :)

Blaze-Borns (Tango Tek)

Pretty standard by fandom standards. Fire hair and fire resistance. Only lore that's specific to my au is that their magic fire is very resistent to outside magic, and it'll literally just burn it out of a blaze's body.

Syrens (Jimmy and Lizzie)

They have legs okay. Essentially humans with some scales and fins (depends on the syren. Jimmy had fins around his ears, Lizzie has them on her ears and her arms. And of course Jimmy's are cod scales and Lizzie's are blue.) Syrens in this world have deadly singing that, unlike irl myths, kill just by hearing, instead of by luring. Unfortunately, they also kill the syrens who sing it. This has led to some natural selection which means Respawners are more common in syrens.

Tanukis (Joel)

(yes I got inspiration from melloz heist shut up /lh). These guys are raccoon dogs like in the Japanese myths, however I have ascribed many of my own headcanons to this world's tanukis. First of all, theyre shapeshifters. Technically their true form is a raccoon, but these guys often have a most comfortable form they spend most their time in. For instance, Joel's is his human form which has a raccoon tail and ears. Tanukis are known for being cheeky buggers. In my au, they can only turn into things of the animal kingdom, and only have one form per species. This is why Joel is short, despite wishing he was tall.

Shapeshifters (Mumbo Jumbo)

You'd think this is similar to Tanukis, wouldn't you? (this is an actual dilemma I had which forced me to come up with differences lol) So, unlike tanukis, Shapeshifters can turn into inanimate objects as well. They also have the ability to change their form within a species. So if Mumbo wanted to be taller, he could be. He could also be a teapot, or a bridge, or a tree, or a clock, or you get the idea.

Guardian-Borns (Scott and Martyn)

These guys are quite similar to syrens, but also not. For one, no deadly singing. They are also more accoustemed to deeper, colder waters, while syrens prefer shallower, warmer waters. They are very protective and driven, and are excellent fighters, on land and in water. They also have to be in water more often, while syrens can go a long time.

Shades (Etho and Cub)

This is what yall voted for, a headcanon that I am not even kidding when I say I made it up in 20 minutes. Essentially, a Shade is a person decended from Phantoms. They're usually nocturnal, but don't have to be. They have white hair like the underside of a phantom, and green blood (Why does Cub not have white hair, I hear you ask? Well, he's being dramatic. He died it). The longer it's been since you've slept, the more it hurts to get punched by one of these guys (this means if you havent slept in ages, Etho can oneshot you into next week).

Centaurs (Gem)

Pretty standard as centaur headcanons go. Expert fighters, very robust and hard to kill. Can have different animal legs, Gem's is a deer, but it's not really explored in my au. Also she has a *wicked* kick.

Whatever the fuck is going on with Cleo

Cleo's technically a human, but she has this weird thing where each time they die a part of themself dies, essentially slowly turning them into a zombie. She can detach those parts of herself, and it makes Mumbo throw up lol.

Non-notable species/people

these guys have basic headcanons/ don't show up in this particular story, but may in future.

Grian: avian (surely I don't need to explain it to you, its the most basic headcanon there is)

Scar: Vex

Bdubs: plant guy. I honestly don't even know whats happened there, he's just plants.

Ren: Dog man (?) (also not relevant in this part of the au, along with martyn)

Skizz: angel

Impulse: demon

BigB: creaking, not relevant in this part of the au

and of course, the fic itself.

[from-memphis-with-love]

Songbird - Chapter 6 - Nobody's Fool

Summary: In the aftermath of Elvis' last day in his 1969 Vegas residency, Valerie and Elvis get caught in a compromising position. A decision is made, and a plan is formulated. Late at night, Valerie and Elvis almost cross the point of no return.

There are moments when one wakes up, and everything seems okay. That blessed space between sleep and memory, before the brain catches up with your body? 

I had about three seconds of that peace before I opened my eyes and saw Elvis' jacket draped over my chair like a question mark.

The gin-stained dress I'd fallen asleep in clung to me like shame. My mouth tasted like I'd been gargling with Dean Martin's martini shaker. And somewhere in the building's guts, that damn dove was cooing its morning commentary.

The Colonel's note lay where I'd dropped it last night: "Meeting tomorrow, 2 PM sharp. Re: Memphis arrangements."

I looked at the clock. 1:07.

"Well, shit."

The phone rang before I could make it to the shower. For a moment, I considered letting it ring. But in Vegas, you learn quick that ignored calls have a way of turning into bigger problems.

"Hello?"

"Val? Thank God." my best friend’s voice carried all the manic energy of a Chicago morning. "I've been trying to reach you for hours! Have you seen the papers?"

I hadn't. Didn't want to.

"Listen, Dee, I can't really talk right now. I have a meeting—"

"About Memphis?"

The question hit like a slap. I sank onto the bed, still wearing last night's mistakes.

"How did you..."

"There's a blind item in the Tribune. 'Which Chicago music teacher has caught the King's eye? Sources say she's trading the Windy City for Graceland...'" Deena paused. "Val? Please tell me this isn't what I think it is."

I practically felt whiplash from how fast the news got out. Through the wall, I could hear the Memphis Mafia stirring - boots on carpet, voices carrying through the International's expensive but thin walls. Red's laugh. Jerry's drawl. The sound of Elvis' world waking up.

"It's exactly what you think it is," I said finally. "And it's going to come out now anyway. His manager’s already planning how to 'handle' it."

The silence on the other end stretched like taffy.

"Holy shit," Deena whispered finally. "Holy actual shit. You and Elvis Presley? All this time? The mystery man you wouldn't tell me about... that was Elvis fucking Presley?"

"Dee—"

"But he's married! To that gorgeous wife who was in all the photos last night, kissing him like—" She stopped. "Oh honey. Those photos. Did you... were you there?"

The memory of that kiss, perfectly timed for the cameras, hit fresh. Elvis's hand on Priscilla's waist. The crowd's approving applause. Ann-Margret's knowing look.

"When I told you to ride that stallion till you break the saddle, I didn't mean steal someone else's horse!" Deena's voice cracked between humor and horror. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Elvis. Actually Elvis."

"I have to go," I said. "Meeting in, like, five minutes. Call me later." I lied. 

"Val, wait—"

I hung up. Stood there for a moment, looking at my reflection in the mirror. Last night's mascara made me look like a raccoon who'd lost a bar fight.

Time to face the music. Or in this case, the Colonel.

*

The Colonel's suite was a shrine to his greatest creation. Elvis stared down at me from every wall - movie posters, concert bills, gold records, photographs spanning from that first Sun Records publicity shot to last night's show. Young Elvis, GI Elvis, Hollywood Elvis, Comeback Elvis, Vegas Elvis. A hundred different versions of the same man, watching our little drama play out beneath their frozen gazes.

The irony wasn't lost on me. We were here to talk about Elvis, but the only Elvis present was made of paper and celluloid.

Red and Sonny flanked the door like bookends. Jerry lounged against a wall between "Love Me Tender" and "Blue Hawaii" posters, trying to look casual and failing. The Colonel himself sat behind a desk (flown in specially) that had probably witnessed a thousand deals, smoking a cigar that put out enough smoke to rival a carnival cotton candy machine.

"Ah, Miss Pedretti." The Colonel's eyes twitched with what might have been amusement. Or annoyance. "Right on time. Coffee?"

"No, thank you." I remained standing, though there was an empty chair positioned precisely in front of his desk - red velvet with gold tassels. The power play was obvious - him elevated, me lower. I wasn't playing. Behind him, a young Elvis smiled down at me. From the very early days. Had there been a girl standing in my spot that day too? Someone else who thought she was different, special?

“Suit yourself." The Colonel gestured at a stack of newspapers spread across his desk, right beneath a photo of Elvis signing his first RCA contract. His mom and dad were in the photo. Her eyes were sad. My eyes were sad looking at her. "I assume you've seen the morning editions?"

I hadn't, but I could see the headlines from where I stood. ELVIS ENDS VEGAS RUN WITH A KISS. KING AND QUEEN OF ROCK REUNITED. And smaller, in the gossip columns: MYSTERY WOMAN IN ELVIS' INNER CIRCLE?

"The paper’s been particularly... creative with their speculation," the Colonel continued. "Something about a Chicago singer-slash-music teacher?"

A distant coo echoed through the ventilation system. Even Tom's dove was eavesdropping.

"Now," the Colonel leaned forward, his head briefly blocking out Army Elvis's crisp salute in the frame behind him, "we need to discuss how we're going to handle your transition to Memphis. I've taken the liberty of arranging—"

"Where’s Elvis?"

The question landed like a grenade in church. Jerry straightened slightly. Red and Sonny suddenly found the ceiling fascinating - specifically, the spot where a massive photograph showed Elvis and the Colonel shaking hands on that first Vegas contract.

"Mr. Presley is... indisposed." The Colonel's voice could have frosted glass. "Mrs. Presley's flight leaves shortly, and certain... appearances must be maintained."

Of course. The real Elvis was playing the devoted husband one last time, seeing Priscilla off. Probably at this very moment they were posing for photographers at the airport, adding one more perfect image to the collection.

I looked at movie star Elvis smoldering down at me from the "Viva Las Vegas" poster. Had Ann-Margret stood in a room like this too? Had the Colonel tried to manage her the same way?

"As I was saying," the Colonel continued, "I've arranged for a house—"

"No."

His eyebrows climbed toward what was left of his hairline. "I beg your pardon?"

"No thank you?"

The silence that followed could have choked a carnival strongman. A hundred Elvises watched the standoff - jumpsuit Elvis, leather Elvis, clean-cut Elvis, rebel Elvis. All of them waiting to see what happened when someone said no to the Colonel.

"Miss Pedretti." He said it like he was explaining physics to a child. "Perhaps you don't understand how things work in Memphis. Mr. Presley's... companions require certain... accommodations."

"I'm not his companion." The words came out harder than I meant them. "I'm not his anything. I'm just going to Memphis."

The Colonel's laugh had all the warmth of a snake's belly. "My dear girl, nobody 'just' goes to Memphis. Not in Elvis' world." He pushed a folder across the desk, right past a framed photo of Elvis handing him a gold watch. "Now, I've had my people draw up some papers. Simple things - non-disclosure agreements, property arrangements, a modest monthly allow—"

"No." I didn't touch the folder. "I don't want your house or your money or your papers."

"Then what exactly do you want?"

The question hung in the air like smoke. What did I want? Elvis, obviously. But which one? I looked around the room at all his faces. Which one was real? The one who sang hymns with me? The one who kissed his wife for the cameras? The one who...

A knock at the door saved me from answering. Joe stuck his head in, looking harried.

"Colonel? Sorry to interrupt, but we got a situation. Seems Dean Martin's passed out in the fountain again, and he's telling everyone who'll listen about Elvis and the towel incident..."

The Colonel's face went through several interesting color changes. "Christ on a cracker. Red, Sonny - go handle that. Jerry, get the car ready. Mrs. Presley can't be late for her flight." He turned back to me. "This conversation isn't over, Miss Pedretti."

"Yes," I said quietly. "It is."

I walked out before he could respond, passing under the watchful eyes of a dozen paper Elvises. Behind me, I heard Jerry whistle low.

"Girl's got stones," he murmured to someone.

"Girl's got a death wish," came the response.

Maybe they were both right. I glanced back one last time as the door closed. The Colonel sat fuming beneath his gallery of conquests - every image a reminder of his control over Elvis's destiny.

But I wasn't going to be just another picture on his wall.

*

I found Elvis in his suite, standing at the window in an emerald green suit that hung perfectly on his tall, lithe frame. He was watching something in the distance - maybe the desert, maybe nothing. The real thing was somehow both more and less than all those images in the Colonel's room.

Our reflections caught in the window glass - him in that perfect suit, me still wearing yesterday's mascara and this morning's doubts. Despite myself, I let my eyes linger on the picture we made together. We looked good, in a way that had nothing to do with staging or the Colonel's careful arrangements. Where Priscilla was all porcelain perfection and carefully coiffed hair, I was warmer, earthier. My olive skin glowed next to Elvis's golden tan. My long dark hair fell in natural waves, untamed by hairspray and hot rollers. Where Priscilla's baby doll lips seemed perpetually pursed in careful consideration, my wider mouth was made for laughter, for singing, for other things I tried not to think about.

Different kinds of beautiful, maybe. But standing there next to Elvis, I couldn't help but notice how well we fit.

The sound of my heels on the carpet made him turn. His eyes were hidden behind blue-tinted glasses. 

"Heard you had a meeting with the Colonel," he said softly.

"Gee. Word travels fast ‘round here."

His laugh was hollow. "Everything travels fast here. Except time." He glanced at his watch. "Speaking of which..."

"You have to take her to the airport."

"Back to Memphis," he nodded. "At least for now. She'll head back to California soon enough." Something flickered across his face - relief? Regret? "Just needs to..." He trailed off.

"Needs to what?"

"Settle some things. At Graceland." His voice was carefully neutral, but I caught the implication. Priscilla would be there, in Memphis, when I arrived. On her turf. Or what used to be her turf.

"The Colonel had some interesting ideas about my living arrangements," I said, watching our reflections shift as Elvis moved closer.

His jaw tightened. "I told him to leave that alone."

"Did you really think he would?"

"No." He stepped behind me, his hands hovering near my shoulders but not quite touching. In the glass, we looked like a photograph waiting to be taken - the kind the Colonel would never allow. "But I hoped. Kind of like I hope you didn’t mean what you said. About finding your own place."

"I did."

"Even though I really want you to stay with me?"

"Even though."

In the window's reflection, I watched him study the contrast of us - his emerald suit against my rumpled red dress, his calculated (and rare) stillness against my untamed energy. When Priscilla stood next to him, they looked like matching dolls in a shop window. But this... we looked the part of the real couple. With real differences.

He nodded slowly. "You know what she said to me last night? After all the cameras were gone?"

I waited, watching his reflection's lips form the words.

"Said I better not turn you into another version of her." He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Like I would even want that." His hands finally landed on my shoulders, warm through the thin fabric. "Look at you. Telling the Colonel no. Standing here looking like... like..."

"Like what?"

"Like the answer to my prayers."

I turned to face him then, breaking the spell of our reflection. Without the glass between us, he was more real, more dangerous. His hands slid down my arms, leaving heat in their wake.

"Elvis—"

A knock at the door made us both jump. Jerry's voice carried through: "Boss? Car's ready."

"Be right there." Elvis' hands tightened briefly on my arms before letting go. When he finally faced me, his eyes were tired behind those blue-tinted glasses. Human. "I have to..."

"I know."

He crossed the space between us in one fluid movement, caught my face between his hands. For a moment, I thought he might kiss me. Instead, he pressed his forehead to mine. He smelled of mint and promises.

"Wait for me?" he whispered. "I'll be back after..."

"After you play the dutiful husband one last time?"

His hands tightened slightly. "That ain’t fair."

"None of this is fair." 

I could be detached. I could deal with the casual dalliances and the pills, as long as it didn’t get out of hand. But Priscilla’s presence somehow still made my stomach queasy. I think it was the title. Wife had a certain ring to it. A certain authority, an outward declaration. I wanted that role. 

"No." He pulled back, slipped his glasses into place. Just like that, he was Elvis Presley again. "But it's what we've got."

The door opened and Red stuck his head in. "Boss? Mrs. Presley's ready."

Elvis straightened his jacket, checked his reflection one last time. Perfect again. Camera-ready. But just before he turned away, I caught him looking at our reflection once more - that impossible, imperfect picture of what could be.

"See you when I get back?" he asked.

I thought about all those images in the Colonel's room. All those different versions of Elvis, frozen in time. Which one would come back to me?

"Yeah," I said. "I'll be here."

He paused at the door, looking back. For a second, I could see him wanting to say something more. Then Jerry appeared with a reminder about airport traffic, and the moment was gone.

I watched from the window as they loaded into the waiting cars - Elvis in the lead car with Priscilla, the Memphis Mafia spread through the others like an honor guard. Even from so many floors up, I could see the photographers waiting. One last photo op of the perfect couple before reality set in.

*

I stayed at the window long after the cars disappeared, watching Vegas shimmer in the morning heat. Behind me, Elvis's suite felt different without him in it - bigger, emptier, more obviously a stage set than a home. His books were still scattered around, they hadn’t been packed up yet. A half-empty glass of water sat on the bedside table, aspirin dissolving forgotten at the bottom.

The phone rang, making me jump. Probably the Colonel, ready for round two.

But it was Lamar's voice that came through the line. "Valerie? You might want to come down to the lobby."

"Why?"

"Press got wind of something. They're asking about a Chicago music teacher."

My stomach dropped. "How many?"

"Enough." He paused. "Bring sunglasses. And maybe a scarf."

The lobby had transformed into a circus since I'd passed through it earlier. Photographers clustered around the entrance like hungry wolves, their cameras ready. Someone had leaked something. It didn't matter now.

What mattered was protecting Elvis.

I thought about Ann-Margret, about how she'd lost him partly because she'd talked to the press. About how fiercely he guarded his private world, even while living in the spotlight. About how trust, once broken, never quite mended the same way.

The Colonel stood near the reception desk, watching me with calculating eyes. For once, we wanted the same thing - to control this story. Just for very different reasons.

"Miss Pedretti." His voice carried across the lobby. "A word?"

Every head turned. I felt the cameras swivel, seeking their new target. Someone whispered "That's her." Another voice: "The teacher." A third: “I heard she’s a bar singer.”

I touched the scarf at my throat - one of Elvis's, smelling faintly of his cologne. Beneath it, my pulse hammered against my neck.

I had two choices: run back to the elevator, or face this head-on. But there was really only one choice. Because whatever happened next, I wouldn't be the one to betray Elvis's trust.

I dropped the scarf and sunglasses in my purse - hiding would only make it worse - and walked through the lobby like I had every right to be there. Like I was exactly what I'd tell them I was: a music teacher and a studio session musician (okay, so I stretched the truth a little) who'd found herself in an extraordinary situation, nothing more.

The cameras went crazy, questions flying like bullets: "Miss Pedretti, what's your relationship with Elvis?" 

"Are you moving to Memphis?" 

"What about Mrs. Presley?"

I stopped, turned, met their hungry gazes with a calm I didn't feel. When I spoke, my voice was steady.

"Mr. Presley has been very kind to a fellow musician. We share an interest in rhythm and blues. And gospel." A truth, if not the whole truth. "Beyond that, I don't discuss my friendships. If you have questions about Mr. Presley, I suggest you speak to his management."

The Colonel's eyebrows rose slightly - surprise? approval? - as I walked past him toward the exit. The cameras kept firing, but I didn't stop again.

I'd protected what mattered. Everything else was just noise.

*

A short while later, the Colonel caught up with me at the elevator on my walk back from lunch. "Interesting performance this afternoon."

"Not a performance."

"No?" His mustache twitched. "Could've fooled me. Very neat, very clean. 'Fellow musician.' 'Gospel music.' Almost like you'd rehearsed it."

The elevator doors opened. I stepped in, but he caught the door before it could close.

"Maybe," he said slowly, "we got off on the wrong foot this morning."

"Maybe."

"A girl who knows how to handle the press... that's valuable." He studied me with new interest. "Very valuable. Perhaps we could discuss those arrangements again—"

"No." But I softened it with a small smile. "Though I do appreciate the offer, Mr. Parker."

The doors started to close. This time he let them.

Back in my room, the phone was ringing again. Deena, probably, having had time to stew on it all. But when I picked up, it was Jerry.

"Boss wanted you to know he saw what you did down there earlier. Says to tell you..." 

Word traveled fast in this crew. I filed that bit of information away for later use. 

He paused, and could hear him smiling somehow. He was choosing his words carefully, aware of who might be listening. "Says you did good."

My throat tightened. "He's still at the airport?"

"On his way back, I think. Photographers were everywhere, of course." Jerry's voice dropped lower. "Listen, about Memphis..." I heard other voices behind him. “Listen, I’ll call you back.”

*

Lamar materialized at my door. "Boss is here. Wants you to meet him out back. Service entrance. Less cameras."

Less cameras, but not no cameras. There were always cameras now.

I found Elvis leaning against his Cadillac in the service alley, still in that perfect green suit but somehow looking more rumpled. His glasses were off, and his eyes were red-rimmed. The pills had worn off again. I made a mental note to watch his use a little more carefully. Just in case.

"Hey," he said softly.

"How was the airport?"

"Like a damn circus." He rubbed his face. "We played it perfect, of course. Always do. All smiles and waves, right up until she got on that plane." He paused. "Heard you had your own circus down here."

"Nothing I couldn't handle."

"Yeah." Something flickered in his expression. "Jerry told me what you said. About the gospel music."

"It's true, isn't it? We do share an interest."

"That all we share?"

The question hung between us like smoke. I thought about all those photographers, hungry for any hint of scandal. About the Colonel's calculating eyes. About Priscilla, perfect to the last moment.

"That's all they need to know," I said finally.

He studied me for a long moment, then pushed off from the car. In two strides he was there, his hands framing my face like he had in the suite. But this time he didn't stop.

The kiss was different than any we'd shared before - desperate, almost angry. Like he was trying to prove something. To me, to himself, to the whole damn world. His hands slid into my hair, messing it up.

When he pulled back, we were both breathing hard.

"Inside," he muttered. "Now."

But before we could move, a flash went off at the end of the alley.

"Shit." Elvis turned, putting himself between me and the photographer. "Red! Sonny!"

The Memphis Mafia materialized from nowhere, intercepting the photographer who was already running. But we all knew it was too late.

Elvis's hands were shaking worse now. "Val, I—"

"Don't." I straightened my hair, tried to calm my racing heart. "We knew this would happen eventually."

"The Colonel's gonna—"

"Let me handle the Colonel."

He laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "Handle the Colonel? Baby, nobody handles the Colonel."

"I dunno.” I giggled like I knew something Elvis didn’t. “I kinda think he’s starting to like me.”

Another flash, this one from a different angle. Elvis swore under his breath.

"Get inside," he said. "I'll deal with this."

"Elvis—"

"Please." His voice cracked slightly. "Just... let me fix this. I can fix this."

But as I watched him stride toward the gathering photographers, all controlled power and perfect posture again, I wondered which version of "fixed" we were about to get.

*

Back in the hotel, everything moved fast. The Memphis Mafia scattered like pool balls after a break, each man with his own mission. Jerry was on the phone with newspapers, his voice smooth as silk: "No comment at this time." Red had the photographer's camera - though we all knew there had to be more photos out there. Lamar was coordinating with hotel security to lock down the service entrances. Sonny and Marty were watching the elevators on our floor.

And somewhere, the Colonel was planning.

I made it to the elevator before he found me.

"Inside." He didn't wait for my response, just steered me into the car with surprising strength for a man his age. The doors closed on us, and he hit the button for his floor.

"Mr. Parker—"

"Not one word." His voice was deadly quiet. "Not until we're in my office." So much for him starting to like me. 

The elevator seemed to crawl. Somewhere above us, that damn dove cooed - even it knew we were in trouble.

His office felt different now. All those Elvis images on the walls weren't just pictures anymore - they were warnings. See what I built? See what I can destroy?

"Sit."

This time, I sat.

"Now then." He lit a cigar with deliberate calm. "Let's discuss what happens next."

"Nothing happens next. It was just a kiss."

His laugh could have stripped paint. "Just a kiss? With a married man? In broad daylight? After you so carefully told those reporters you were 'just friends'?" He blew a perfect smoke ring. "No, my dear. This is what happens next: You're going to take a generous settlement and disappear. Back to Chicago, preferably. We'll spin it as a brief friendship, nothing more. Elvis was being kind to a fellow musician, just like you said. End of story."

"No." 

"No?" His eyebrows climbed. "Perhaps you didn't understand. This isn't a negotiation."

"You're right." I met his gaze. "It's not. Because there's nothing to negotiate. I’m not disappearing unless—"

"Then let me be clearer." He leaned forward. "Elvis Presley is more than a man. He's an industry. An empire. And that empire is built on certain... understandings. With his public. With his wife."

"His wife who lives in California?"

His mustache twitched. "A temporary arrangement."

"Like I'm supposed to be? Another 'temporary arrangement'?"

"Now you're beginning to understand."

“I’ll only go away if Elvis wants me to. I’d like to hear it from him, please.”

As if on cue, the phone on his desk rang. He answered it, listened, then held it out to me.

"For you. It's Elvis." His smile hadn't wavered. "He's going to tell you he's fixed everything. That there's a plan. A story we're going to tell." He paused. "The question is: are you going to play along?"

I took the phone, my hand steady despite everything.

"Elvis?"

"Baby, listen..." His voice was tight. "I know what to do. But you're not going to like it."

Behind his desk, the Colonel watched me like a snake watching a mouse. Some choices, I was learning, weren't really choices at all. But how you played them - that was everything.

"The story's simple," Elvis said, his voice tight with something between exhaustion and resignation. "You're my new backup singer. Been rehearsing in secret. That's why you're coming to Memphis. Professional opportunity, nothing more."

​​I watched the Colonel's satisfied smile grow behind his cigar smoke. Of course this was his idea - neat, clean, controllable. A story that would explain everything while revealing nothing.

"The kiss..." Elvis continued.

"Was gratitude," I finished, seeing the shape of it. "Excitement over the opportunity. A momentary celebration caught at an unfortunate angle."

"Yeah." He sounded tired. So tired. "Colonel's already got the contracts drawn up. Real ones, not just for show. You'll actually have to..."

"Sing backup?" I almost laughed. "Elvis, I've been singing my whole life."

"Yeah, but this is different. This is..."

"Playing a part?"

The silence on the line spoke volumes.

"It's a good solution," the Colonel cut in, clearly having heard every word on his extension. "Clean. Professional. Gives you a legitimate reason to be in Memphis, access to Graceland for rehearsals, everything you want. Just with... proper boundaries."

Proper boundaries. Right. Like the ones he'd established for all those other girls, the ones whose pictures didn't make it onto his wall of fame.

"There's one condition," Elvis said suddenly. "My condition, not the Colonel's."

I waited.

"You keep your own place. Like you wanted. No arrangements, no settlements. You do this as a professional, not as..."

Not as what? His mistress? His kept woman? Another Ann-Margret who got too close to the sun?

"Okay," I said.

The Colonel's eyebrows rose slightly. He'd expected more fight, more negotiation. But he didn't understand - I wasn't negotiating. I was playing chess.

"Just like that?" Elvis sounded surprised too.

"Just like that." I kept my voice level, professional. "When do we start rehearsals?"

What followed was a blur of activity. Contracts appeared as if by magic - the Colonel had probably had them ready since that first elevator ride. Throughout it all, I signed where I was told, smiled when expected, played the part of the grateful unknown singer getting her big break. 

Statements were prepared for the press. A schedule materialized for rehearsals, appearances, recordings. Something flickered in the old man’s eyes - recognition, maybe. Of what, I wasn't sure yet. 

It was late afternoon by the time everything was "handled." The photos from the alley had mysteriously vanished, though we all knew copies existed somewhere. The press had their official story. Even that damn dove seemed to have finally found somewhere else to roost.

"Perhaps," the Colonel said softly, "I underestimated you."

I smiled and headed back to my room.

*

Packing shouldn't have been hard. I hadn't brought much to Vegas in the first place. But somehow my belongings had multiplied, scattered across the suite like evidence of a life I hadn't planned on living.

"You'll want to pack light," Jerry said from the doorway. He'd appeared with coffee and what he called "Memphis wisdom," though I suspected he just didn't want me to be alone after the alley incident. "Graceland's got its own weather system. Nothing you bring is gonna make sense there anyway."

"Helpful, Jer. Real helpful." I held up two dresses - one Elvis had sent up last week, one I'd brought from Chicago. The difference in quality was almost embarrassing.

"Take both," he advised. "You'll need the fancy one for show, the real one to feel like yourself." He paused. "That's the trick, you know. For when everything else gets crazy."

I folded both dresses carefully, thinking about Elvis's books scattered across my bed, their margins filled with his handwritten notes. Questions, observations, searches for meaning in scientific formulas and ancient wisdom. I'd been packing them when Jerry arrived.

"Speaking of crazy," Red's voice came from the hall, "wait'll you meet the Memphis ladies." He joined Jerry in the doorway, looking oddly formal. "Got a whole briefing prepared for you about that."

"A briefing?"

"Those women are sharks in southern belle clothing," he said seriously. "Especially the ones who've had their eye on Elvis since high school. They're gonna hate you on principle."

"Thanks for the pep talk, Red."

"Just trying to prepare you." But his eyes were kind. "Though something tells me you can handle them just fine."

I picked up Elvis's jacket from the chair - the one I'd been wearing this morning when everything changed. His cologne still clung to it faintly, mixing with the gin stains from last night's party. Had that really been less than 24 hours ago?

"Leave the jacket," Jerry said quietly. "Trust me on that one."

Before I could respond, Lamar appeared behind Red and Jerry, making the doorway look like a Memphis Mafia convention.

"Y'all telling stories about Memphis?" He squeezed past them into the room. "Let me tell you about Elvis's first day at Graceland. There he is, king of the world, right? And he can't figure out how to work the dang intercom system. Kept accidentally broadcasting everything to the whole house. And I mean everything." He winked. "Including some very private conversations with very private guests, if you know what I mean."

"Lamar," Jerry warned.

"What? She should know what she's getting into! Place is like a funhouse sometimes. Secret passages, hidden doors, two-way windows - Elvis had them put in during renovations. Says it's for security, but really he just likes playing hide and seek."

I tried to picture it - Elvis Presley, the king of rock and roll, playing hide and seek in his mansion. What would he need a two-way window for? Yet, somehow it wasn't hard to imagine at all.

The phone rang, making us all jump. The Memphis Mafia exchanged glances.

"That'll be your pal again," Jerry said. "She's called four times."

I stared at the phone. "How do you know?"

"We know everything, honey." Red smiled. "Part of the job."

I picked up the receiver. Sure enough: "Val? Finally! I've been trying to call you back all day!"

The Memphis Mafia made themselves scarce, but not before Jerry mouthed "be careful" and tapped his ear - reminding me that in Vegas, walls had ears and phones had extensions.

"Dee." I cut her off, gentle but firm. "I need you to listen very carefully. Can you do that?"

A pause. Then, quieter: "Yeah."

"I can't tell you everything. Not yet. But I need you to trust me when I say that what's in those papers... it's not the whole story. And I need you to not tell anyone anything beyond what's already out there. Can you do that for me?"

The silence stretched so long I thought we'd been disconnected. Finally: "This is really serious, isn't it?"

"Yeah." I twisted the phone cord around my finger. "It really is."

"But you're okay? You're being careful?"

I thought about the Colonel's offer, about Elvis's message through Jerry, about all the delicate threads I was trying to navigate.

"I'm trying to be."

"Val, a backup singer? Really? That's the story they're going with?"

I started folding a sweater, phone cradled against my shoulder. "That's the truth they're going with."

She caught the emphasis. "Oh. Oh." A pause. "So we're not talking about the real truth yet?"

"Not yet."

Another pause. Then: "Okay. But Valerie?"

"Yeah?"

"When you can tell me... when it's safe... you'll tell me everything?"

"Everything I can," I promised. "Just... not yet."

After I hung up, I found Elvis's books again. Opening one at random, I found a passage underlined: "The truth is rarely pure and never simple." In the margin, his handwriting asked: "But what if you're living multiple truths?"

*

A knock at the door made me look up. Elvis stood there, looking somehow both perfect and wrecked. His hair was immaculate but his eyes were tired behind his glasses.

"Hey," he said softly. He took in the scene - the half-packed suitcases, the scattered books, his jacket still draped over the chair.

"Need help packing?"

"I’m almost done. Just trying to figure out what belongs in Memphis and what should stay in Vegas."

He understood the real question. Moving into the room, he picked up one of his books. "Take ‘em all," he said. "We can read them together at Graceland. When things are... quiet."

"Does it get quiet there?"

"Sometimes. Late at night, or early morning. When everyone else is asleep." He sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb my packing. "It's different than here. Better in some ways, harder in others."

"Because of Priscilla?"

"Because of everything." He rubbed his face. "You know she redecorated the whole place when we got married? Made it exactly what she thought it should be."

"Nothing wrong with that, Elvis. That’s what women do." I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah but now it's like living in a museum sometimes. Even the air feels..." He trailed off.

"Curated?"

"Yeah." He looked at me then, really looked at me. "That's what I love about you, you know? You always find the right words."

"That why you kissed me? In the alley?"

His hands tightened on the book he was holding. "I kissed you because I couldn't not kiss you anymore."

The air between us felt electric, dangerous.

"Baby—"

"I know." He stood up abruptly. "I know we can't. Not now. Not with everything..." He gestured vaguely. "But in Memphis. When things settle… God, Valley Cat, I can’t wait to…”

A knock at the door interrupted whatever he might have said next. Joe stuck his head in.

"Boss? Car's ready whenever you are. And the Colonel wants—"

"Tell the Colonel I'll be there when I'm there." For once, Elvis's voice held an edge of real authority. I liked it.

Joe disappeared. Elvis turned back to me.

"I have to go. More appearances, more pictures, more..." He shrugged. "You know."

"I know."

He moved to the door, then stopped. "The backup singer story... I'm sorry about that. I know it's not what you wanted."

"It's fine."

"No, it's not. But it's what we've got." He smiled slightly. "For now."

After he left, I continued packing. The books went in first - all of them, even the ones I hadn't read yet. Then the dresses, both fancy and plain. But the jacket... Jerry was right. The jacket stayed behind.

The sun was setting over Vegas, painting the desert in shades of pink and gold. From my window, I could see photographers still lingering near the hotel entrance. Four weeks ago, I'd stood at this same window, watching Elvis's world from the outside. Now I was part of it, for better or worse.

A familiar coo made me look up. That damn dove was perched on my windowsill, looking remarkably pleased with itself.

"You're not coming to Memphis," I told it firmly.

It just cooed again, like it knew something I didn't.

Maybe it did.

*

I was deep in dreamless sleep when the knock came. So faint I almost missed it. For a moment I thought it was part of the dream, until it came again. Soft, uncertain, not like Elvis's usual confident rap.

When I opened the door, he was leaning against the frame, pajama shirt half-unbuttoned, eyes unfocused behind his glasses. His hair, usually perfect, fell across his forehead in a way that made him look impossibly young.

"Hey songbird," he slurred slightly. "Can I... can I come in?"

I hesitated. I'd never seen him this far gone before.

He swayed a little, caught himself. "Please?" His voice cracked on the word. "Just need... need somewhere quiet. Need you."

Something in my chest twisted at the naked vulnerability in his voice. I stepped aside to let him in. He made it three steps before stumbling. I caught him, guided him to the nearest chair.

"Everything's spinning," he mumbled, letting his head fall back. "Doctor Nick gave me something new. Said it would help with the... with the..." He gestured vaguely at his head. "But it's not... I can't..."

"Shh," I smoothed his hair back from his forehead. "It's okay."

"No." He caught my hand, pressed it to his cheek. "Not okay."

He pulled me down onto his lap, hands clumsy but insistent as they found the zipper of my nightgown. "Need you," he mumbled against my neck. "Been needing you so long..."

For a moment, I let myself feel it - the weight of him, the heat of his mouth, everything I'd been dreaming about since that first elevator ride. But his hands were shaking so badly he couldn't manage the zipper. His words slurred together as he tried to kiss me and missed.

"Not like this," I said softly, catching his hands. "Not when you're not yourself."

"But I am myself," he insisted, eyes struggling to focus. "Love you. I love you."

My heart stopped. "Elvis, you're not—"

"No." He pressed his forehead to mine, suddenly intense. "This is right. I love you. Been trying not to but I do."

His voice broke on the last word and suddenly he was crying - silent tears sliding down his perfect face. Without thinking, I gathered him to me, cradling his head against my chest. He curled into me like a child, all that powerful frame somehow becoming small and lost.

"It's okay," I whispered, rocking him slowly. "I've got you."

I held him like that for what felt like hours, studying his face in the dim light. The thick fan of his lashes wet with tears. The vulnerable curve of his mouth. The slight tremor in his jaw that betrayed how hard he was fighting for control.

Something shifted in my chest - a fierce protectiveness mixing with a love so deep it almost scared me. I wanted to be needed by him. Wanted to be the one who could hold him like this, who could see him at his most vulnerable and love him more for it, not less.

"M'sorry," he mumbled eventually. "Didn't mean to... to fall apart like that."

"Don't be sorry." I wiped his cheeks gently. "Ever."

He caught my hand, pressed a clumsy kiss to my palm. "Still coming to Memphis? Even after seeing me like this?"

"Especially after seeing you like this."

We made our slow way to his suite, him leaning heavily on my shoulder. The halls were empty - the Memphis Mafia mysteriously absent. Maybe they knew to give him this privacy. This moment of absolute vulnerability.

At his door, he turned to me. For a second, his eyes cleared.

"Meant it," he said softly. "About loving you."

"I know." I touched his cheek. "But tell me again tomorrow when you're you."

"Promise you'll still be here tomorrow?"

"Promise."

I waited until his door closed before letting out the breath I'd been holding. The empty hallway suddenly felt very long, very quiet. We'd have to talk about the pills eventually. About limits and boundaries and all the things that could go wrong. But not tonight.

Tonight, I just wanted to remember the weight of him in my arms. The trust it took for him to let me see him like this. The way my heart had cracked and mended and grown when he'd said he loved me, even through the chemical haze.

Because somewhere between that first elevator ride and this moment, between Vegas glamour and raw need, I'd fallen completely, irrevocably in love with him. Not Elvis Presley the star, but this complicated, brilliant, troubled man who read numerology and cried in my arms and trusted me to get him home safe.

I wasn't going anywhere.

*

Morning came too soon. The hotel staff who'd barely noticed me four weeks ago now watched my every move, their eyes following me with a mix of curiosity and calculation. The maids whispered in corners. The bellhops suddenly knew my name. Even the woman who'd cleaned my room every day, Marie, looked at me differently as she helped pack my final items.

"You take care," she said softly, folding my last dress. "It's not like Vegas there."

The front desk clerk who'd checked me in that first day - Brenda, still blizzard-cold - handed me my final bill with a knowing smile. "So. Backup singer?"

I just smiled, remembering how she'd dismissed me a month ago. How I'd been nobody then - just another hopeful in a city full of them. Now I was somebody. Or at least, I was somebody's somebody.

Elvis had left earlier, his departure orchestrated by the Colonel down to the last detail. Priscilla was already in Memphis, preparing Graceland. I would fly commercial, arrive hours after them. Keep up appearances. Play the part.

I wasn't to go near Graceland, not yet. Not while Priscilla was there. The Colonel had made that crystal clear - I was to find an apartment far away from Graceland until... until what? Until Priscilla left? Until some arbitrary waiting period passed? Until the scandal died down? I felt caught in limbo, neither here nor there.

My stomach churned with guilt as I thought about her. How must she feel, knowing her husband's... what was I exactly? Mistress seemed too tawdry, girlfriend too simple for whatever this complex thing between Elvis and me was becoming. But whatever I was, I was coming to her town, into her world. Sure, Elvis swore their marriage was over, that she had her own life in California now. But she was still his wife. Still the woman whose home I was effectively invading, even if I wouldn't be living under her roof.

My cheeks burned with shame. Part of me wanted to do right by her - maybe even eventually talk to her, explain... what? That I loved her husband? That I couldn't help myself? That I believed him when he said they were done?

But another part of me bristled at feeling guilty at all. If they really were separated, if she really was building a new life in California, why shouldn't I be with Elvis? Why shouldn't I take this chance with him?

I made a mental note to find out the truth about their marriage - not from Elvis, whose view was complicated by pills and promises, but from someone who would know. Maybe Jerry. Maybe Red. Someone who could tell me if divorce was really on the horizon or if I was just another chapter in Elvis' story of extramarital adventures.

The press lingered outside despite the early hour, their cameras ready. I spotted the one who'd caught us in the alley - he had the decency to look slightly ashamed when our eyes met.

Red appeared at my elbow as I headed for the cab. "Ready?"

"No."

He laughed. "Nobody ever is."

Looking up at the International's gleaming façade, I remembered that first day. How overwhelming it had all seemed. How impossible. I'd been so naive then, thinking talent and determination were enough. Now I knew better. Now I knew about pills and promises, about public faces and private truths, about loving someone so completely that even their broken pieces felt precious.

A familiar coo made me look up one last time. That damn dove sat on the hotel awning, watching my departure like it had watched everything else.

"Still here?" I called up to it.

Red followed my gaze. "Tom's trying to catch it, you know. Says it's his responsibility."

"Tell him to let it be." I smiled. "Some things aren't meant to be caught."

The cab pulled up. Red loaded my bags while I took one last look at the Strip, already shimmering in the heat. Somewhere up there was the elevator where it all began. The suite where Elvis had cried in my arms last night. The lobby where I'd first heard him laugh.

"Miss?" The driver was waiting.

I slid into the back seat, letting Vegas fall away behind me. In a few hours, I'd be in Memphis. In Graceland. In Elvis's world for real.

The morning sun caught my reflection in the cab window. I looked different somehow. Older, maybe. Or just... more. More aware. More certain. More myself.

"Airport," I told the driver. Then, softer, more to myself than anyone: "Time to see what Memphis has in store."

As we pulled away, I could have sworn I heard one last coo from above. A goodbye, maybe. Or a warning.

Either way, there was no turning back now.

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[xxacademy]

i'll let you in {part one}

leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you've had your eye on a handsome co-worker for quite some time. dreaming of a chance you'd get to know him better. a chance that he'd let you in. *set around RE4, but no real timeline*

this is the set-up for romance and smut to come :) thank you for reading, i genuinely appreciate it <3

word count: 1.4k

content//warnings: afab she/her reader. alcohol.

you want to be noticed. you want nothing more than for him to compliment your hair, or tell you that you did a good job. but he never has, and why would he? he barely knows who you are.

leon kennedy is an agent for an elite government task force, and so are you. the catch being you’re assigned to different teams, and never have been assigned together. this was tragic, years of working as an agent and never once being assigned with Leon? of course not.

it really only started out as a shameless crush. i mean the man is a bit of a celebrity. if the name “raccoon city” is spoken, images of leon and claire will always come to mind. leon is regarded as a hero, it’s hard not to get butterflies around him.

but my god, his looks don’t help. his body is built and decorated with scars, his eyes are tired but sensitive, a haunting shade of blue. he looks rugged- like he’s seen some shit (and he has). you digress.

but, he's genuine. you can see by the way he interacts with his colleagues, he’s unassumingly empathetic. especially for someone known for a dark and sarcastic sense of humor.

although, what allures you most is how quiet he is. in briefings he only says what needs to be said, maybe a one-liner here and there. never really granting an opportunity to interact past that. but, you are dying to know what on earth is he actually thinking. his eyes are always eluding to more. so contemplative and hard to read.

these feelings toward him really came up strong about one month ago.

you remember getting off work at about 11pm. you didn’t have much to go home to and you were still wide awake. so, you decided to stop by a local dive bar. it was a monday night so the bar was vacant. just a few regulars doing what they always do, drinking it all away.

you were shocked by who you saw sitting at the end of the bar. a blonde-haired man wearing a black leather coat. both his elbows were up on the table, grasping a glass of (presumably) whiskey. his head was tucked into the nook of his arm. he looked beaten and tired.

leon.

you felt nervous, like a middle schooler face to face with their crush. you wanted to talk to him, but again, he didn’t look like he was wanting company. he hadn’t even noticed you walk in.

you decided to mind your business, sitting on the opposite end of the bar. you ordered a drink and kept quiet. secretly watching him. he didn’t move for a long while. only occasionally taking sips of his drink.

yawn. sleep crept on you. the tiredness only amplified by the alcohol. you start to get up, pushing your wooden barstool back from the table for it to only make the most ear-wrenching sound against the tile floor.

“fuck” you hush under your breath, darting your head up out of shock.

your eyes land on his sunken blue gaze.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry!” you plead, feeling horribly embarrassed about the noise. his abrupt stare turns into a gentle smile.

“y/n? i didn’t expect to see you here.”

“i could say the same to you” you grin.

leon nods his head in agreement.

you didn’t really know what else to say, fumbling through your mind to find something to fill the silence with.

“are you heading out?” leon asks, beating you in the somewhat awkward game of who can fill the silence faster.

“yeah, actually, i was just about to call a cab,” you say pulling out your phone.

“oh-okay then, have a good night” he smiles. he looks like he had more to say, but instead opted to let you go.

your heart is fluttering, giving you that butterfly feeling. all from a couple meaningless words.

you make it outside to the street curb, stumbling slightly, cold february air cloaking any exposed skin of yours with its chill. drunk and shivering, you impatiently watch the dimly lit street, at the same time you devise a plan on how you’re going to retrieve your car in the morning. you’re lost in thought, just waiting.

“hey,” a deep voice calls out. making you jump, breaking you out of your train of thought.

“oh! sorry, you scared me! sorry, oh-hi, leon-” your frantic reaction was amusing to him. you looked so innocent and vulnerable. just a drunk girl waiting for a cab. definitely not the badass, gun-wielding agent he saw at work.

“i thought i’d join you will you waited, probably safer that way.” he laughed at himself. “not that you really need it, but still.”

“thank you, i appreciate it.” you smile.

leon stands next you, looking out at the road alongside you.

“its interesting how long we’ve worked together, but i still barely know you.” you laugh. the alcohol making it easier to voice your honest thoughts.

“yeah it's unfortunate, isn’t it.” he replies.

“yeah…” you want to tell him more, you want to go on about how you’d always hoped that one day you’d get to know him better. but that would be too much, of course.

“what brings someone like you to a place like this?” he asks.

“someone like me?” you playfully retort.

“i’m not sure how to explain it. you just don’t seem like someone who would spend the evening alone at a shitty bar.”

"yes, you're right. i genuinely don't know why i'm here either. it's been a rough couple of weeks, i honestly just needed a break."

"sorry to hear that, y/n. i know how you feel. it seems like we only see the worst the world has to offer in our line of work."

"truly" you laugh, defeatedly so.

your cab finally arrives. you turn to leon, your pretty eyes looking right into his. "thanks for the company leon, i guess i'll see you later".

he smiles, "anytime."

...

you haven't really spoken to him since then. the past month has been busy, leon was gone for about a week, away for a mission. and you have had lots of paperwork and training on your plate. it's been nothing more than a simple greeting in passing between you too.

until today.

sitting in your office, you're prompted to meet in the conference room for a new job assignment. upon arriving you're greeted by your boss and leon. after taking your seat and going over the brief you learn that you two have been tasked together with a mission. the mission is nothing major, which is relieving. but, you feel your stomach well up with anticipation. a mix of nerves and excitement.

your boss leaves the room, leaving you alone together.

leon smirks "well this is exciting, isn't it."

part two

[thechaoticdruid]

[Eat Your Heart!]

(This Bites: Valentines Day special)

Pairing: Astarion x F! Chubby MC

Plot: Winnie hates Valentines Day, having never been able to celebrate it with a lover before, but now that she has Astarion perhaps it'll change?

C/W: Suggestive themes, Sexual humor, random bigoted asshole encounter, fluffy goodness.

This Bites Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four,

Winnie turned on the television and internally groaned as she noticed a commercial come on. It was one advertising chocolates for her least favorite holiday. Valentine’s Day. Or as Winnie liked to call it Singles Awareness Day.

“God, I hate couples.” Winnie huffed a bit, glaring at the man and woman on the screen, sharing chocolates. How dare they shove their happiness in her face! 

“Meow!” Maddie hopped up onto the bed and took her place on Winnie’s lap, gently headbutting her ribs. 

“You get me, don't you baby?” Winnie asked as she looked down at the raven-haired feline, running a hand over her little head.

“Murp!” The cat made a strange little noise in response before leaning her head into Winnie’s hand and purring.  Winnie smiled softly and rubbed the cat's head before looking over at her phone. Mom and Brian were out of town, apparently going on a romantic trip for Valentine's Day which was tomorrow. 

Stupid candy heart holiday!

Winnie looked over posts online to see what everyone was doing. Her old friends from highschool were all happy and celebrating with their spouses the selfish pricks. How dare they be happy goddamnit! Winnie huffed before noticing Becca from work had posted an update about how she was going out with some girl she met at a con tomorrow and how excited she was about it.

No Becca! Not you too!

Winnie groaned and fell back on her bed. Maddie tilted her head curiously before hopping up on Winnie’s chest and sniffing at her face. 

“Ughhh…. I need some ice cream.” The brunette-haired female picked the cat up before setting her on the side of the bed and getting up.  Winnie walked into the kitchen and opened the freezer, getting a small container of chocolate ice cream out before closing the door to the fridge. She grabbed a spoon before heading back to the bedroom. 

Winnie sat back down on her bed, trying to turn the television on something more interesting to watch as the window to her bedroom suddenly opened. Winnie nearly dropped her spoon as the silver haired vampire elf crawled inside her home. 

“J-Jesus!” Winnie cursed, “for fucks sake Astarion! No one is home but me. You can use a door!” 

“I suppose I've developed a habit of coming in this way.” He said with a little giggle at the end. Astarion had something in his hand as he shut the window behind him. A little bit of blood ran down the corner of his mouth. He'd just been out hunting and was able to drain a plethora of raccoons, possums and even a large deer to boot.   Maddie’s tail shot up and curled into a hook shape as she padded over towards Astarion, immediately rubbing against his legs with a pur. 

“Oh, hello darling,” Astarion smiled and reached down to pet the cat. “I brought you something.”

Winnie’s eyes widened in complete horror as she noticed there was a bird in his hand. A small lifeless looking bird.  He held it out to Maddie who immediately sniffed it before prodding it with her paw.  

“Astarion! You can't just bring dead animals to my cat!” Winnie freaked out, setting her snack to the side before grabbing some tissues from her table. She scooped the bird up into them.

“It's not-” Astarion tried to cut in, but Winnie opened the window, and the bird suddenly sprang to life, pecking her hand before flying out the window.  

“Fuck!” Winnie cursed.

“Oh, now look at what you've done. You've ruined my gift to our precious little pet.” 

“She's MY pet and I don't want her killing birds in the house!” Winnie hissed before rubbing her hand where she'd been pecked. 

God, I hope that thing didn't have a disease….

Winnie sighed and closed the window before getting back onto her bed and sitting. Astarion pouted before sitting on the bed next to her.

“You're awfully snappy this evening.” 

Winnie sighed, “sorry. It's this damn holiday. It always rubs me the wrong way.”  Winnie said, grabbing her ice cream and spooning some into her mouth. 

“What holiday, love?” He asked, sprawling out over the bed and laying his head on her thigh. 

“Oh right, you don't know. It's Valentine's Day. Uh…It's a holiday celebrating romance and candy people really like to sell candy on it.” Winnie said, “people usually give their lovers gifts like chocolate and flowers on it.” 

“Oh, that sounds positively dreadful!” Astarion said sarcastically.

“It is if you've been single all your life and people are rubbing their happiness in your face!” Winnie exclaimed. “I hate it.” 

“Darling, you have me now, remember? And I would be happy to join in on any romantic festivities…as long as it's with you.” Astarion smiled softly, looking up at Winnie with soft round puppy-like eyes. Winnie blushed and bit and cleared her throat.

“I-I guess I didn't think about that…I've just been single for as long as I can remember." Winnie set her ice cream to the side table.  

“Of course I haven't been able to enjoy chocolate for the past two centuries, but I'm sure you'll think of something else for us to enjoy.” Astarion smiled and laid across Winnie’s lap. Since the brunette-haired woman had begun dating courting him the two of them got a bit more comfortable with one another.  Snuggles and hugs were pretty casual now, but they still tended to catch Winnie off guard. She enjoyed them, but it still felt so weird for a man to be so affectionate with her. 

Winnie’s brother was raised the old fashion way, taught to be tough and stoic and that hugging was for sissies so needless to say he wasn't very cuddly. Her biological father wasn't the type of person you wanted touching you.  And Brian pfft…As if she'd ever hug Brian! The fucking prick.

So really, she'd only known affection from other women. And it was all platonic. This just felt so weird. It was nice, but weird. 

“Well, Valentine's Day isn't until tomorrow, but we can go out tomorrow night and do something then?” Winnie suggested.

“Sounds lovely.” Astarion hummed.

“Still, it's too bad you can't actually taste normal food. I would have gotten you a bunch of candy hearts.” Winnie smiled, leaning back a little as she experimentally ran her fingers through his soft white locks. 

“The only heart I'd find myself wanting to eat would be yours I'm afraid.” Astarion joked with a mischievous chuckle, leaning up and laying his head on Winnie’s large pillowy chest as he snuggled against her. 

“The way it speeds up just for me is so…. mouthwatering.” He purred, nuzzling against Winnie. 

“I kinda need my heart you know…” Winnie huffed with a pout.

“Just teasing, my dear.” Astarion hummed, eyes closed as he listened to the comforting sound of her heartbeat, his arms wrapped around her plush waist as he cuddled on top of her. She honestly felt so soft and cushy to the vampire.  Winnie blushed a bit, leaning back with a yawn as she ran her fingers through the vampire’s curls. 

“You just gonna sleep on me tonight?” 

“Perhaps…” 

Winnie giggled slightly, “Okay…” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day Winnie went to work as normal, leaving an Astarion alone at the house with the instructions to NOT get into any trouble. Which for most of the part he didn't. He mostly laid around, played with Maddie, hate-watched some gods awful vampire TV series, placed one of the dog’s ‘surprises’ into Brian's shoes and took a long relaxing bubble bath while using one of Winnie’s mother's facemasks. 

Winnie on the other hand spent the day stocking shelves and cleaning floors at the CornerStore. 

She had to deal with some middle aged lady who repeatedly kept asking where they kept their grills despite the fact that Winnie tried to calmly explain that they did not sell grills at the store and that she should try the Superstore across town.

It was honestly one huge stressful mess and eventually Becca had to come over and ask the woman to leave when she noticed the lady raising her voice at Winnie.

After the workday ended Winnie headed back home on her motorcycle. She had to keep her mind from wandering off to tonight's events, but it was hard! Winnie was filled with both anxiety and excitement at the prospect of being able to spend this Valentine's Day with a romantic companion.

Eventually she made it back and parked in the empty driveway of her home. The neighborhood was mostly quiet aside from the distant sounds of dogs barking and children shouting from their yards. The sun was slowly setting and soon Astarion would be able to leave the house with her. She entered her home, stretching out her arms before walking towards her room.

“Astarion, I'm home.” She called.

“Welcome back, my love.” The vampire greeted, a book in hand as he laid on her bed, wearing a black tank and grey shorts.  Winnie blinked as she noticed the book in his hands, his fingers obscured the cover, but she had a bad feeling she knew what book that was. 

“Uh…What are you reading?” Winnie asked. 

“I never pegged you to be into such scandalous literature. It appears my sweet innocent little Winnie isn't so innocent after all.” Astarion purred. Winnie quickly went over and tried to grab the book from him, her face burning bright red with embarrassment. 

“Give that here!” She shouted, but Astarion immediately got off the bed and held the book up high and out of reach. Winnie was able to see it had been a graphic novel, an erotic BL manga that she'd gotten as a gift back in her senior year of high school from one of the nerdy girls she used to be friends with.  She had only read it once…. Okay maybe twice, but that was it!

“Tut tut, you didn't ask nicely. Naughty girl. ~” 

Winnie growled in frustration.

“Give it back Astarion!” She hissed before trying to grab hold of his arm and pull it down so she could grab the book. However, she had absolutely no luck.

Do…. I suddenly have noodle arms or is he suddenly much stronger!? 

Astarion was snickering, a wide shit eating grin on his face as he kept the book out of his darling’s reach. Eventually however the two of them tumbled back onto the bed in the scuffle, Winnie grunted as she fell on top of him.  Winnie grunted and Astarion then tossed the book to the side before rolling over on top.

“Hey!” Winnie whined, “get off!” 

“Ask a bit nicer and I may consider it, sweetheart.” 

Winnie glared at him, cheeks flushing with both embarrassment and a little bit of something else as he pinned her to the bed.

“Fine…. Please…Let me up…” Winnie muttered. 

“Good girl. ~” The elf said cheekily, planting a quick peck on the female’s face. Astarion rolled over and got off of Winnie, allowing her up.

“You know, I'm only teasing about the book. I really don't care about what little fantasies get you going, darling.” He giggled before tossing the novel back at her.  

“You don't need to be an ass about it.” Winnie muttered before taking the manga and putting it away (this time somewhere different).

“If it would make you feel better, I might be willing to indulge your fantasies one day. Once you're ready of course!” 

“I…. How would you…? NEVERMIND! The sun will be down soon! And I need to get ready….We need to get ready!” Winnie stated, her face looking all pink. 

“As you wish my sweet.” Astarion smiled before glancing over to the clothes he'd had been given. 

He decided to change into some pants while Winnie went into the bathroom with a bundle of her own clothing.  Astarion dressed before looking at the black hoodie Winnie normally had him wear. The white-haired vampire rolled his eyes at it before noticing Winnie’s own jacket hung up in the closet. It was a dark purple hoodie which radiated with her scent. Astarion grabbed hold of it before sliding it on. It didn't fit quite right. It was a bit loose around the chest and waist while almost being too short for him to wear, but he couldn't help but find comfort in the smell. Lavender and cherry blossoms. It made him feel at ease. 

Winnie came out of the bathroom a few minutes later dressed in a red blouse-like shirt with a heart shaped hole over the chest and black tights which hugged smugly around her thick thighs. She was running a brush through her hair as she looked over at him. “You know my hoodie doesn't fit you right?” 

“Gods forbid you let me wear anything with a little bit of color!” Astarion pouted. 

“I'm not saying you can't borrow it…It's just. I’ll buy you your own if you want one.” Winnie offered.

“No!” Astarion said quickly, “I-mean don't bother, you probably won't be able to find another one this comfortable!” The pale elf insisted. 

Winnie sighed, “Whatever. Let's just go…Oh wait…” Winnie looked around in her dresser before taking out a black beanie. She got on her tippy toes before placing it over his head and covering his elf ears. 

“You’re messing up my hair…Winnie…” Astarion complained and glared down at the short female.

“I always fix it for you, don't I?” Winnie shrugged before grasping Astarion's hair. “Come on! The sun's gone down!”  The two left, hopping onto Winnie's motorcycle and driving off. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tall brightly lit lamp posts surrounded the archery range as the love birds paid their way in and rented a pair of bows before walking up to the ring. Winnie scrunched her nose as they passed another couple who absolutely reeked of booze. She'd noticed them arrive in some huge camo SUV with deer antlers mounted to the hood and an obnoxiously loud radio playing.

The archery targets were set up past the fence, all set up in a horizontal line and each one was moved further back than the one that came before. Winnie struggled to hold her bow correctly, grunting in frustration as the arrow would slide out of place.

“My sweet, let me help you.” Astarion said, carefully adjusting Winnie’s hands.  She took a deep breath before pulling the around back and shooting it. It fell right onto the ground almost immediately after being shot. 

“Ah! I suck at this!” Winnie huffed. 

“Well, you're still much better at it than Gale.” Astarion smiled a bit. 

“...Thanks….” Winnie said, not sure if being better than Gale was really that great a compliment.

“Try again, love.” Astarion said before moving to help Winnie. He stood close behind her, chest against her back as he positioned her hands, this time guiding them to pull back the bowstring. He had her pull it back as far as it would go before releasing it. The arrow shot across the range and hit the side of one of the targets.

“Whoa!” Winnie smiled, “I actually hit it!” Astarion adjusted her hands once again and helped her notch another arrow, this time hitting closer to the center of the target. 

“Okay! Okay! I'm going to try by myself this time!” She cheered. The elf watched her fondly. He found her giddiness positively adorable.

She pulled back the arrow before letting it go and it went about five feet before falling to the ground.

“Oh goddamnit!” Winnie swore, attracting the attention of onlookers. 

“You did better this time, darling. But perhaps you should take a break, hm?” Astarion suggested and patted her shoulder. 

“Yeah .... I guess so .... How about you shoot some?” Winnie asked. 

“I suppose I could.” Astarion hummed before planting a kiss on Winnie’s cheek. “But don't get upset when I upstage you.”

“No, by all means! Don't be afraid to show off!” Winnie smiled at him. Astarion smirked before taking the bow and notching an arrow. He pulled it all the way before letting it go and immediately hitting a bullseye on his first try.

A make-up-caked woman with short red hair and ruby red lipstick looked over from where she stood next to a tall beefy man in a leather vest, her eyes wide with amazement.  

Winnie clapped, a grin forming on her lips.

“Keep going Star! That was awesome!” She cheered.

Astarion shot another arrow at the next target immediately hitting another bullseye. Most of the targets he'd been used to usually moved so this was honestly way too easy.  Winnie followed Astarion as he hit the targets one after another each with a flawless technique.  

And he even shot one backwards.

Okay I said you could show off, but this is a little much….

“Astarion-” Winnie began before suddenly the red headed lady marched over and pushed her out of the way. 

“That was amazing! Where did you learn how to do that?” She asked, eyes leering over Astarion now that the woman was able to get a better look at him.  

“It’s all instinct really.” The elf replied with a smug, confident look. He appeared to be eating up the praise.

“It's very impressive. You must be very strong.~” She purred, moving to stand closer before placing a hand on his arm, feeling it up. Astarion grimaced and looked at the woman with a flash of disgust.  Winnie glared over at the woman with annoyance. 

Seriously? This is the second time some floozy thinks it's okay to invade Star’s personal space! 

“Look lady, he doesn't like people being all touch-” Winnie was about to try to run the woman off before suddenly the man she'd previously been with stomped over towards the three.

“HEY! Get the hell away from MY wife!” He snapped. 

“Apologies, it seems your lady has had a little too much to drink.” Astarion said, removing the woman's hand from his shoulder as if she was carrying some kind of disease. 

“Are you saying she's not good enough for you!? What are you gay!?” The man pushed through, he reeked of alcohol just as much as his wife did it seemed. Winnie furrowed her brows at the man's ridiculousness. He clearly just wanted any reason to fight. Astarion seemed a bit confused at his question.

“Not at the moment. Nothing really to be cheerful about currently.” 

“You being smart with me, pretty boy?!” The man shouted. Astarion was trying to remain civil for Winnie’s sake but the bastard was really trying his patience. Astarion wasn't permitted to have a knife, Winnie made sure of it but the vampire spawn claws he'd grown while here definitely weren't for looks. Wouldn't be too hard to poke a hole in this cunt’s windpipe if he was quick. 

“No. Not at all.” Astarion replied, “I was simply answering your question.” Astarion had a fake smile on his face, but Winnie could see the irritation in his eyes. If this didn't resolve itself quickly someone was going to get hurt.

“You think you're real funny don't you, you fucking faggot!?” The man snarled. 

“You know I've been called a lot of things, but that…I've never heard of. Probably not a very intelligent insult by any means.” Astarion chuckled a bit, his smile turning more sinister. Fingers clenched as his claws prepared to strike. The bigoted drunkard seemed about ready to blow his top and start throwing punches.  The floozy wife just seemed to be giggling and enjoying the chaos, not even caring if someone got hurt.  Winnie had to act fast before this turned to bloodshed. Before anyone could say another word she grabbed her bow and an arrow before desperately aiming towards the parking lot. She pulled it as far as it would go, almost instinctively remembering how Astarion showed her earlier. 

The arrow flew across the range and hit the drunk couple’s SUV right in the headlights, almost immediately sounding the car alarm. 

“What?” The bigoted man tore his head away from Astarion before suddenly his wife shouted.

“Fuck! That's our car!” She took off running. 

“Goddamn it! Who's breaking into my baby!” The man yelled before running off. 

“Well, that was rather convenient.” Astarion said before Winnie grabbed his arm. 

“This was fun, but it's time to go!” Winnie said before dragging him off and abandoning the bows they'd rented at the range. It took a moment for Astarion to realize that Winnie had been the one to cause a distraction.

“This was your doing? You sneaky little devil! I'm so proud, my love!” 

“Yeah yeah whatever now let's get out of here before we get arrested!” Winnie pressed, dragging the giggling elf with her back to her motorcycle. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I hate that some assholes had to ruin our Valentine's Day. God, I swear nothing good ever comes from this holiday.” Winnie huffed as she sat down on a blanket.  Her and Astarion had made a little picnic on a hill out in the woods not too far from Winnie’s home. Winnie had gotten the idea of trying to head somewhere more private when she'd stopped at a rest stop on their way after the fiasco at the archery range. 

“I wouldn't say that. You and I still get to spend plenty of alone time together.” Astarion said and scooted closer towards her.  Winnie looked up at the sky. 

“I suppose you're right about that. Brian and mom won't be back for a couple of days…” Winnie scooted a bit closer towards Astarion and leaned against him. 

“I…Uh…I have something for you…. Winnie…” Astarion looked off to the side before taking something out of his pocket. 

It was a small box of heart shaped chocolates. 

“I'd still much rather sink my teeth into a different heart, but I'd imagine you'd prefer this.” 

“Astarion…This is so sweet….Thank you….” Winnie took the box and nibbles on one of the chocolates, a smile stretched across her face from ear to ear. Astarion simply snuggled against her, planting a kiss on her forehead.

“When did you even buy ... .? Wait a moment…You stole these didn't you?” 

“Ah….I may have done that….Yes…ah ha ha…” 

Winnie let out a long sigh.

“What am I going to do with you?” She rolled her eyes before wrapping her arms around his neck and leaned in, nuzzling her nose against his. Astarion smiled and nuzzled back, the two pressing their foreheads together.

“Just hold me…” He whispered.

The two love birds were completely unaware as a figure watched them from far away. The figure was slender and corpse-like. 

“Thou doth not know what thy actions will bring. It is only a matter of time.” The figure's echo of a voice rang out. 

End.

Taglist: @astarioffsimpmain, @iamsexytrash, @tiedyedghoulette, @hp-art-studio , @gaymistakeboi , @the-disaster-in-waiting, @misscrissfemmefatale, @divineknightmare, @marcynomercy, @gianchan-de, @tinyfreakgirl, @jaksfanficsaver, @im-just-a-simp-le-whore, @dajeong

IDK, but Tumblr would not let me tag some of y'all, but I will notify you when the next parts come out!