#and the one thing that connected us in the last years were the photos we took

[marsprincess889]

Me getting political

🇬🇪🇪🇺

So, I know I mostly only really talk about vedic astrology here, but I'd like to speak to the very same audience who found and followed me because of that about what's going on in my country. So, followers, dear mutuals, those couple of ppl I know irl who are on here, or someone who randomly found this_please, read and interact. (!!!please)

For context, the vast majority Georgia, mainly gen z, has been protesting a "foreign agents law", which is almost identical to the law that russia passed in 2012 and that has resulted in significant restriction of the freedom of its citizens. So, eurovision, met gala, whatever.... this is the reality my country lives in.

I had no idea so many people from other countries were this misinformed about georgia(in general)? People thinking photos from our massive protests were not from here because we have "police" written in english and not "policija"(which is not a fcking georgian word??????)?

People thinking america funded, I repeat, MASSIVE protests that have been going on for a month(and have also taken place in the march of last year for the same reason), just because some of the protestors wrote signs in english? Like, the sheer idea of that is honestly infuriating.

I don't think anyone who has not lived in Georgia will understand the situation clearly. The government is ordering to beat up peaceful protestors, is using pepper spray on them.... and most of the protestors are teens and young adults, trying to make a better future for themselves and for generations to come, tired of fighting the same fight that their parents and grandparents have fought.

When you are born georgian, patriotism is instilled in you like vow. I was born in 2002, a decade after my country exited the soviet union, fresh out of the notoriously hard and dark 90s(full of poverty and crime), six years before I started school and russia invaded the city of Gori. We learned all the poems and novels of our great writers, learned the stories of them fighting for freedom of speech, for the freedom of our country, our teachers would explain every detail of their astristry and their importance. At some point I think we all got tired of it, no matter how loving and full of care they were, but then I remember the presentation my class did in sixth grade about february of 1921, how Georgia exited the russian empire in 1918 and how the brand new(at the time) constitution was implemented just a few days before the red army came in 1921... MY PARENTS were born when Georgia was in ussr, my mother had to spend her years as a young student in the 90s in constant fear of danger on the streets, our parents saw the worst of it and did everything in their power for us to live in a better environment. But we're first generation in georgia who grew up with internet, who is fluent in internet slang and is way more informed, with a completely different mentality, for whom the decades of oppression is more distant. We know russia is an enemy, we know what our country has gone through, but we are the first gen with the freedom to speak up when yet another attemp to control is made.

We have a very long and rich history and one thing that is clear from it is that we are supernaturally resilient, and our refusal to be subdued has protected not only ourselves, but countries that lie west from us, the countries that make Europe, that we consider ourselves a part of.

My friends know I'm the quickest to say that I feel like I don't belong here(georgia), that I never really connected to what I saw, generally, in my country, but maybe there are thousands like me here. Maybe(100%) the men in power haven't been paying their due respect to my generation and how persistently we have been in our actions and convictions. And maybe, the rest of the world(western countries) have significantly undervalued our importance. We deserve our due, and to me, the least that others can do, is to educate themselves before typing or speaking about us.

We are not a "former soviet country", we are an ancient civilization with an extremely unique culture that has survived to this day, that has protected its customs, identity and the right for freedom, and has been under almost constant threat for losing them. And, once again, if there was any doubt, we are not our government.

I sincerely hope for this to get as many notes or possible, or at least, to reach the right people.

#vedic astrology #eurovision #astrology #nakshatras #astrology observations #sidereal astrology #astro notes #astrology tumblr #aesthetic #esc #switzerland #finland #tbilisi #georgia #sakarvelo #saqartvelo #russian law #foreign agents law #georgia is europe #photography #doctor who #northern lights #aurora borealis

[crazy-fruit]

.

#slightly sad that I won't inhert my grandfathers camera gear #cuz my (shitty) uncle got it ans then gave it to one of his sons #which would be fine if I wouldn't be so sure about the fact that I was the only grandkid which freely and regularly contacted my grandfathe #and I sent him pictures and he was so damn prous of me and my dad said he was always super excited to hear from me #and it would have been nice to get one thing from him #to remember him #and the one thing that connected us in the last years were the photos we took #he even used the same system as me #and it would be fine if my uncle or cousin actually cared but I'm pretty certain that it's just a camera for them #((ffs honestly I simply deserve this for getting the news of his death on my birthday this year)) #(I'm just pissed that I have to see my relatives this week and I don't want to)

[odinsblog]

“I first started noticing the journalists dying on Instagram. I'm a journalist, I'm Arab, and I've reported on war. A big part of my community is other Arab journalists who do the same thing.

And when someone dies, news travels fast. Recently, I pulled up the list that the Committee to Protect Journalists has been keeping and looked at it for the first time. There are 95 journalists and media workers on it as of today.

Almost everyone on it is Palestinian. Scrolling through, I started to get angry. These were the people carrying the burden of documenting this whole war.

Israel is not allowing foreign journalists into Gaza, except on rare occasions with military escorts. These people's names are being buried in a giant list that keeps growing. What I want to do is lift some of them off the list for a moment and give you a glimpse of who they were and the work they made.

I'll start with Sadi Mansour. Sadi was the director of Al-Quds News Network, and he posted a 22-second video on November 18. That was a report from the war, but it also gave me a picture into his marriage.

Sadi's wearing his press vest and looks exhausted. He's explaining that cell service and the Internet keep getting cut off, and it's often impossible to text or call anyone, including his wife. So they've resorted to using handwritten letters to communicate while he's out reporting, sending them back and forth with neighbors or colleagues.

He ends the video with a picture of one of these letters from his wife. In it, she writes,

‘Me and the kids stayed up waiting for you until the morning, and you didn't come home. We were really sad.

I kept telling the kids, Look, he's coming. But you didn't show up. May God forgive you.

Come home tomorrow and eat with us. Do you want me to make you kebab or maybe kapse? Bring your friends with you, it's okay.

And give Azeez the battery to charge. What do you think about me sending you handwritten letters with messenger pigeons from now on? Ha ha ha.

I'm just kidding. I want to curse at you, but we're living in a war. Too bad.

Okay, I love you. Bye.’

A few hours after he shared that letter, Sadie and his co-worker Hassouna Saleem were at Sadie's home, when they were killed by an Israeli air strike that hit his house.

His wife and kids, who weren't there, survived.

Gaza is tiny, and the journalist community is really close. Reading the list, you can see all the connections between people. Like with Brahim Lafi.

Brahim was a photojournalist, one of the first journalists to die. He was killed while reporting on October 7. He was just 21, still new to journalism.

On his Instagram, you can see that in his posts just a few years ago, he was still practicing his photography, taking pictures of coffee cups and flowers. Then he started doing beautiful portraits and action shots. You can really feel him starting to become a journalist.

Clicking around on Instagram, I found a tribute post about Brahim from his co-worker Rushdie Sarraj. In this photo, Brahim staring intently at the back of a camera, his face lit up by the light from the viewfinder. He looks so young.

The caption reads, My assistant is gone. Brahim is gone. Rushdie himself was a beloved journalist and filmmaker.

And I know that because he's also on the list. He was killed just two weeks after Brahim. I read the tribute post to him too.

I saw this over and over again. Journalists posting tributes, who were then killed themselves soon after. And a tribute goes up for them.

And then the pattern continues.

Thank you.

Something else I saw over and over on the list, journalists later in the war who had become aware that they could be making their last reports. They'd say it at the beginning of their videos. And those were the hardest to watch, especially when it was true.

One video like that was posted by Ayat Hadduro. Ayat was a freelance journalist and video blogger. Her videos before the war covered a wide range from what I can tell, interviews about women in politics.

She even appeared in a commercial for ketchup-flavored chips. She clearly liked being in front of the camera. Once the war started, Ayat's pivoted to covering bombings and food shortages.

On November 20, she posted a video report from her home. You can hear the airstrikes hitting very close to where she is. It's scary.

‘This is likely my last video. Today, the occupation forces dropped phosphorus bombs on Beit Lahya area and frightening sound bombs. They dropped letters from the sky, ordering everyone to evacuate.

Everyone ran into the streets in the craziest way. No one knows where to go.

But everyone else has evacuated. They don't know where they're going. The situation is so scary.

What's happening is so tough, and may God have mercy on us.’

She was killed later that day.

Targeting journalists, in case you didn't know, is a war crime. So far, the Committee to Protect Journalists has found that three of the journalists on the list were explicitly targeted by the IDF, the Israeli military. Investigations by the Washington Post and Reuters, Human Rights Watch and the United Nations have also raised serious questions in these three cases.

And the Committee to Protect Journalists is investigating 10 other killings. When we reached out to the IDF for comments, they said, quote, the IDF has never, and will never, deliberately target journalists. That's the answer they always give in these situations.

Meanwhile, dozens of seasoned reporters have fled Gaza. Journalists who worked for Al Jazeera, the BBC, the New York Times, the Washington Post, Reuters, Agence France-Presse. So many media offices were demolished in Israeli airstrikes that the Committee to Protect Journalists stopped counting.

It's not just individual lives that have been destroyed. It's an entire infrastructure.

Thank you.

The name on the list that was hardest for me to look at was Issam Abdullah, because I'd crossed paths with him once. Issam was a Lebanese journalist, a video journalist for Reuters for many, many years. He had just won an award for coverage of Ukraine.

I'm Lebanese and still report there sometimes, and I'd worked with Issam a couple of summers ago. He helped me film a sort of random story in Beirut. I was interviewing this entrepreneur who had started a sperm freezing company after an accident where he spilled a tray of hot coffee on his private area, burning himself.

I know, ridiculous. It was a really silly shoot. Right after we said cut and started to rap, Issam started this whole bit about being in his late 30s, reconsidering his own sperm quality and everything he now realized he was doing to hurt it, and no one could stop laughing.

It was a really good day that felt good to remember and to remember him that way. Issam was killed by the IDF on October 13. His death was one of the three that the Committee to Protect Journalists has identified as a targeted killing.

He was fired upon by an Israeli tank while standing in an empty field on the Lebanon-Israel border with a small group of other journalists. Everyone was wearing press vests with cameras out. They were covering the Hezbollah part of this war.

A few other journalists were injured in the attack, which was captured on video. The IDF says they were responding to firing from Hezbollah, not targeting the journalists. But multiple investigations, including by Reuters, the United Nations, Amnesty International and the AFP, found no evidence of any firing from the location of the journalists before the IDF shot at them.

The journalists in the group and video footage confirmed that there was no military activity near them. I had only met Issam once, barely knew him, but it affected me so much when he died. I know that he understood the risks of his job, but somehow it still felt so random and unfair that he would be struck down like that, following the rules, wearing his press vest and helmet, and a pack of reporters on a sunny day in an open field.

I find myself thinking about him all the time. His last Instagram post was commemorating another journalist, this iconic reporter Shereen Abou Aql who had been killed by the IDF. When I first saw that post in October, I thought how ironic because a week later, Isam also was killed by the IDF.

But then, after spending time reading the list, I realized how common this had become. I still haven't finished going through the list and looking up the people on it. I keep finding things that stick with me, like the funny way this one radio host would cut off a caller who was rambling on for too long.

A tweet from reporter Al-Abdallah that quoted Sylvia Plath. It read, What ceremony of wars can patch the havoc? I'm going to keep going down the list, even though this story is over now.

Just for myself. My own way of bearing witness. Which is, in the end, all that these journalists were trying to do.”

—DANA BALLOUT, The 95. Dana sifts through a very long list—the list of journalists killed in the Israel-Hamas war, and comes back with five small fragments of the lives of the people on it. Dana is a Lebanese-American, Emmy-nominated documentary producer.

#politics #dana ballout #the 95 #palestine #israel #war crimes #gaza #committee to protect journalists #🇵🇸 #brahim lafi #shereen abou aql #issam abdullah #ayat hadduro #rushdie sarraj #hassouna saleem #sadi mansour

[simplydnp]

be honest with me. what are the chances of a hard launch in june

anon this question goes back years. and the thing is. we have been right once before.

you ask me this this time last year? fuck no. i might even quip that dapg would come back before dnp would hard launch. well. look at us now.

and even then, you look back on the content they started with in the revival--it honestly kind of felt exactly like where we left off, only a lot more explicitly queer (we stan). and then... trying to see without my glasses 2. and bang, spooky week happened. and that shifted the balance. we suddenly got slo-mo replays of handholds. day, after day, after day, finishing with the absolute masterpiece of halloween baking cinnamon rolls. in all honesty it was so much more than i'd've ever expected from them. truly another post-baking universe.

and it never really slowed down. suddenly we had cat prom photos, catboy butlers, catboy dan w/ phil photography credit, theyre 'wrestling' --running us full throttle into gamingmas, the first since 2017. and every day we had a new thing to freak out over: standing close. golf jokes. and then... pinof reacts. i don't know what compelled them to do it but i do have speculations. genuinely, i think they wanted to defang a lot of their history. we treated pinof 1, especially, with this... reverance. and it wasn't talked about too publicly--and dnp didnt do it either. so if they really wanted to move on, to bring down the walls, open the floodgates, define this new era: they had to throw the first stone. and they did. quite heartily too. suddenly this almost taboo part of their history--almost too intimate to be perceived--was on the table. and we were talking about it. joking about it. giving clear signals of 'we see it, it's okay.' and suddenly we existed in a post-pinof reacts world. of anything, i would've never predicted they would've done that. absolutely wild. follow that with it takes two being so chill and fond. incohearant being so blatant and heartfelt. trombone champ being unhinged and chaotic. the genuine and sweet complimenting of each other in the red carpet video. devan wedding... happilyphoreverafter... we crashed forward in time. never knowing what would be next. where is the line? how far will they go.

they teased us with japhan honeymoon and we knew 2024 would be wild. but we didn't know how much. from wdapteo 2023, to specific reminiscing about japan w/ devan, WAD happening, and phil playing a huge role in it all--from the orange carpet hosting, to 'ive been in *sex noises* with phil from the start!', to 'remote crisis manager phil lester', to dan saying he can stay during the thank you.

one of the biggest videos so far this year was the tiktok likes one. i will be forever haunted by the dog eating cheeseburger and willy wonka tiktoks--theres some things i was never meant to know. and yet. they tell us. explicitly.

every single video on amazingphil since the return of dapg has mentioned or featured dan. there's been a palpable shift in the way they interact. have you seen the way phil has been glowing in videos lately? this guy is on cloud nine all the time. it's really not hard to see why.

the energy of keep or yeet w/ dan... the absolute Lack of pretense of it all. phan twitter... watch your step baby girl...

dan and phil fucking crafts. talk about an unexpected return. legacy defining, one might even say. we're still in this tailspin of what everything means and they drop this insanely iconic video on us. from the storytelling to the production to the aesthetic--and its all capped off by explicit handholding. yes, it was part of the sacrifice. but hand in hand, the heart dan ripped from phils chest in one, and the knife that did it in the other... oh boy. we're really in it now. and then they put it on fucking merch. genius. truly no one does it like them.

and the foot has been on the accelerator since. dan and phil connections, shuffleboard & mocktails, getting deep slumber party, acknowledgement & approval of fics (yes previously given but never like this)--hell, even the sims today was wild for 'is their love language horrible banter 👀'.

you didn't ask for an essay but i gave you one. all of this to say, they've been moving the line. quite intentionally so. they intentionally revived their joint branding. they are 'dan and phil' again, and seem happier than ever about it, and i think that means something. they're saying things they never would have before--out of the closet or not.

as for june... 5 years since coming out is a big deal. so is this year being 15 years of dnp. hell, so is this year for being the first out pride month where they're explicitly a duo and regularly making content together. they're sentimental, there will be something.

my craziest idea is reacting to their coming out videos ✌️😔 --but i don't think it'll actually happen. as for more realistic, i could see pride merch. and however that goes will be significant, in my opinion. i'm excited and curious.

i don't know if they'll hard launch. it's hard to put all of the implications, complications, and speculations back into the box once it's opened. dan's talked about it before--wanting to be able to fuck up and not be publically executed, instead, being able to learn and grow and work it out. i think that's a very understandable stance to have. very grounded. we'd have to ask him if tour/dapg has changed that now. i do think he's had some sort of life epiphany--whether it's about that specifically, only he can say. but i think it's there.

even if i portray a lot of level-headedness, i wear my clown nose with pride. sometimes the only option is to go with whatever is funniest at the time. they're both jokesters, so they could commit to a bit like that. but it's also like, it can be too serious for them to want to joke about. i don't know. i think we're in this almost beautiful state right now--the we know you know of it all. there's no expectations, no demands to be met, no obligations of types of content. they're happy. we're happy. it depends on if they feel ready. if they want to. we'll be here, always.

#that is to say. marraige hill is starting to get crowded boys. so if you could. do something about that. thatd be great #im sure there's things ive missed but basically it comes down to this: realistically? maybe. & thats a lot fucking closer than its ever been #theyre having fun. and that means im having fun #dnp #c.text #dan and phil #phan #<- for the fandometrics #answered

[lucrativesoul]

The Assistant

summary: you have been promoted within the police headquarters, and your new position is the assistant of none other than Leon S. Kennedy. the ever alluring man has you weak in the knees.

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

word count: 9.9k

warnings: smut, boss x employee, very brief mention of smoking, very vague drug mention.

a/n: yay i'm posting it :3 using this photo cause i couldn't stop thinking of noir leon while writing this (brainrot) i didn't originally intend for this to be so long but here we are... this was different than what i'm used to writing but it was so much fun! already in the process of a second fic! enjoy yall

“So… I’m not fired?” 

Standing in front of your boss’ desk, you were genuinely surprised by the words out of her mouth. For some reason, for the last few weeks, you had a hunch that you were about to get sacked. The office had been slowly getting emptied out, of boxes full of documents, of equipment, hell, even of people, and you were positive you were next. 

She had just called out into her office, a mere twenty steps away from your desk where you worked, or used to work, now, in the dingy yellow room with foggy windows and no working AC. You took a deep breath, thinking this was it, getting ready to add this to the list of ‘Previous Employment’ on your resume, when all she had simply told you was that you were going upstairs.

She laughed curtly. “No, you aren’t. They need you upstairs. You’ll be better off up there.”

You slowly nodded your head, trying to keep most of the confusion off of your face. “So, sorry to ask, but, what about down here?”

You had been here for just shy of a year at this point, and they placed you in one of the ground floor offices of the five story buildings sorting out random court documents, for whatever reason, they were always needed for something incomprehensible. You didn’t question it, you just did it, because you got paid to. Yes, the fluorescents gave you occasional migraines and stepping into the fresh air at the end of the day made you feel reborn, but it was just busy work, and there were much worse jobs to do.

“They’re cleaning us out. We’re all still here, just… relocated.” You nodded, at least relieved to know that your old deskmates weren’t ruthlessly fired. She handed a manila folder over to you, and when you flipped it open, there was only one piece of paper inside. You’ve learned to not be surprised by confusing things such as this. “Mr. Anderson of the top floor has recently been relieved of his position.” Ouch, you thought. Poor soul. “His position had been freed and with no new applicants, they were looking inward. I appreciate your work here and your employment history shows some experience in the assistance department, so I suggested you as a candidate. They want you up there.” 

Your stomach sank, and your best friend’s voice rang out through your head. “You can’t lie about past employment, idiot! They can check!” Well, you held back a sigh, they definitely didn’t check.

“Wow, I… Thank you. But, sorry. That I’m leaving.”

She merely shook her head. “Still here. This office will be gone soon enough. Between us, I’ve been praying for this day.” With that, she dismissed you, and after swiping the few personal items off your desk and into your bag, you headed home.

This single paper had stumped you all night. You sat at your table after eating (barely, you were too nervous about starting a basically new job the next day), and decided to review the content of it before retiring for the night. It was quite simple: it listed the job description, ‘Executive Assistant’, it listed the location, ‘5F, 505’, and your new boss’ name, ‘Leon S. Kennedy, Exec. Agent’.

You had honestly not heard this name before. You should know everyone who works there, considering the nature of the police headquarters, but you were often forgotten down in the basement, no one too important worked down there, besides your boss, or old boss now, who had connections to all other departments. Everyone got there before you and left after you. Could be at the same time, but you often tuned it out, needing the sweet release of your home. You wondered why she volunteered you up for this. Maybe she was sympathetic about the setting you had to work in for someone your age.

You went to bed after deciding there was no hidden detail in the few lines of script on the sheet. You would just have to wait and see.

Figuring the gray dress pants and white, long sleeve mock neck that you threw on this morning were good enough, you left the house early enough to prepare by buying a coffee. Being stuffed into the basement had its perks, eventually everyone had caught on to the idea that they just needed you guys down there to do what they didn’t want upstairs, and you and your coworkers had found the thin cracks in which you could push the dress code a little. No, leggings weren’t permitted, but they were on the days your slacks were dirty and when you put a dress shirt and sweater on over it. You were sure your boss noticed, but said nothing anyway. Clearly, it didn't put a dent in what she thought of you.

You had to at least try today though, as you had no idea what it would be like to work on the top floor. You had no idea what kind of a person Agent Kennedy was, and you weren’t going to chance anything on the first day. You had played it safe when you first started here and it paid off, so fingers crossed it could pay off again.

After a few deep breaths, you popped the door open and headed into the building. Usually, you could park in the back and take the lower level entrance, which was essentially the one and only way into the basement that wasn’t from the service elevator, but you went in through the front today. You ignored the tightening of your stomach and climbed the stairs. 

“Can I help you?” A man stood from the front desk at your arrival. You started reaching for the ID card you carried on a lanyard, stuffed into your pocket.

“Yes, I work here.” He reached out for your ID, not believing your truth.

He raised an eyebrow. “The basement entrance is in the back of the building.” He handed it back and went to sit down.

“Yes, I know, I was moved. I’m going upstairs.” You handed him the manila folder before he could ignore you further. He raised an eyebrow again after looking at the small paper.

“Alright, Anderson’s replacement. Fifth floor, to the right.” He motioned to his left to the elevator, and only then did you let him sit back down. 

You took the walk to the elevator as a chance to survey the room. You hadn’t been over here very often. You made a few trips up here a few months ago, but you didn’t look around much, only headed to the confidential files room to move information. The floor was a sleek black tile, shiny as ever, and the room was lit well due to the large windows at the front of the building. It didn't look like a headquarters building. You told yourself it wasn’t to calm your nerves.

Swallowing the last of the anxiety, you stepped out onto the fifth floor. It was simply a hallway, all black, but the windows at the end made the space seem larger, and not so dark. To the right, you remember the man telling you. Your footsteps were reverberating off of the walls, matched with the pounding of your blood flow in your ears.

The corridor opened up to a wider room, inhabited by a handful of other people. One of them spotted your arrival, and walked over.

“Good morning, I’m–”

“Yes, right over here. Glad to see you.” You were taken aback for a moment, They already know me? You thought, as you followed the young man to a large desk on the left side of the wall, facing inward to the foyer. You were sitting in front of floor to ceiling windows, across the room was the same setup with a few smaller desks, people scuttling back and forth on their own side. You turned back to thank the man, when your heart fluttered in relief.

“Thank you,-- Oh, my gosh, Brett, you work up here now?” Brett was an old deskmate that had left the small office three months ago. You didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, but the last day that you saw him you remember eating lunch on his desk with another coworker who sat in front of you two. You were saddened by his loss, but now absolutely relieved to have a familiar face.

“I know, right? They said you were coming. I’m glad you got out next. It’s better up here.” He let you put your stuff down and get settled, before telling you what your next moves should be. “He’s in a meeting right now, but he wanted to meet you once you got here. Don’t be nervous, but brace yourself. He’s serious. Mostly. I’ve seen him smile once, but he’s nice to the rest of us. Hopefully more to you.”

After a few more minutes of small talk, he left you on your own, and you passed the time getting used to the surroundings while waiting for your new boss to be out of his meeting. Early for a meeting, you thought, but then again, it didn’t take a whole team for one person to make a conference call. 

There was a momentary beep sound that came from Brett’s desk, and he picked up the phone. He said one thing into it before hanging up. He turned to you. “He’s ready.”

The nerves came back, but at the comforting thought that there was at least one person you knew out here, you tried your best to look forward to just sitting back down at your desk.

You were about to knock, but figured otherwise since he had directly asked for your presence. You walked up to the large double doors, and pulled them open.

His back was to you when you closed the door behind you. Walking closer, you stopped a few paces away, observing him for a brief second. He had a white dress shirt on and a gray vest. He looked quite large from where you stood, and you were sure that he was at least 6 feet tall, probably taller. He was messing with some papers on his desk, and you took a quick breath before speaking.

“Good morning, sir.” You stood tall, shoulders back, hands clasped behind yourself. Don’t cross your arms in front of you, you recall trying to retrain your habits, you look insecure. He turned around.

You swallowed hard. Jesus Christ, there were no tips on that blog on what to do when your boss is straight out of People Magazine’s sexiest men alive. His ash blonde hair was pushed back off of his forehead, showcasing his sturdy bone structure, a deep, furrowed brow that lacked any wrinkles, and high cheekbones with a sharp jawline. Straight nose, strong chin, and shoulders the size of, well, you. Maintaining eye contact was a challenge. 

You saw him give you a quick once over, all the way down and back up your body again, so brief like it never happened at all. You were itching to pull your arms back in front of yourself.

“Good morning.” He took one step closer to you, held out his hand, and you gingerly took it. His hand was rough, yet the handshake was gentle. “Agent Leon Kennedy.” He lowered his hand and put it in his pocket. His other hand was holding a file. “I hope once you are comfortable here we will work well together.”

You gave a tight smile, forcing your face to make it look natural. You were sure it didn’t. “I look forward to working with you.” Your voice was a lot breathier than intended. 

The corner of his mouth twitched in a hidden smirk. Leon could definitely tell you were nervous. It was a big part of his job, after all. He handed the file over to you. “Just run these for a while. Find me when you finish them.” You took the folder. He stood there momentarily, watching you. “You can relax a little. I’m not going to kill you.” He stalked back over to his desk and sat down, attention still on you. 

You mumbled while flipping through the file. Attempting to lighten the mood, “I would, but smoking is not allowed in the building.”

“That will kill you, you know.” His voice was light. He took the joke well.

You closed it and looked back up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “Would you prefer if I drank myself stupid, then?” He said nothing, and just smiled at you. Yours grew wider. “I’ll see you soon with this, sir.” You turned and left.

The day passed with ease. It was no difficult task to focus, now that the nerves were buried and you knew what it was that you had to be doing. Lunch with the others came and went, and it took you a fair chunk of your day to run the files he handed over. It was similar to what they had you doing in the basement, but the addition of sunlight unobstructed by dirty windows made it seem like a fun job.

You had attempted humor with Leon within the first few minutes of meeting him. You probably shouldn’t have, but no one in your life could force you to give up making jokes in serious situations. That’s just how you operated. Leon didn’t seem to care. He actually smiled. Brett had told you he rarely does that, and you made him after only a minute. It honestly had your heart racing all day.

With only an hour left in the day, you packed up the papers Leon had given you along with some new printed ones. You knocked on the door this time, and opened it when he beckoned you in.

“Sorry it took me so long. Little more labor intensive than I’m used to.” He took the file you were handing over, and put it on his desk without looking inside. He was sitting turned toward the computer on his desk, and though he told you to come in, you hoped you weren’t interrupting anything. 

“Thank you. No more of that librarian sorting you were all doing down there.” So, he knows. It was no secret you were sure, but you were still surprised that he knew you worked in the building at all. Leon turned his attention back to his desk for a moment, and you stood there, head tilted slightly to view what he was looking at. He turned back to you, and your head snapped up to make eye contact. “I have nothing else for you right now. Boring day for you to start. You can go home. Tomorrow, if you don’t mind, I’m going to have you review some portfolios and slides I have, so you can become familiar with the content. I have some meetings coming up later in the week, or next, there's a good chance you’ll be coming with me.” he swiveled himself around and grabbed a stack of papers sitting on top of a file cabinet, held together with a paperclip. “Just put this on your desk for now, for the morning.” It was something along the lines of criminal justice and related business strategies. This would be a doozy.

“Of course, sir. As you wish.” You took a step back to leave. “Thanks for the early day.” You sent a halfhearted smile his way. He didn’t reflect it, but his eyes were soft.

After a few seconds of holding your stare, he said, “Already better than Anderson. I like you.”

Your stomach tightened, and you had to force yourself to breathe normally. “I hope I can continue to please, then.” You felt his stare hot on your back as you left, but you remained composed. Once, and only once, the doors were shut, you shakily exhaled, and quickly packed up to leave.

The week went by with a pace you were never used to with your job. You found yourself excited to come to work, excited to see Leon. If you had known you worked in the same building this whole time, you would have been begging your old boss to get moved.

It was a rather tame week, and you weren't sure if it was because there was no work, or this is just what the workload was always like here. It was now Friday, you sat at your desk going through a database page for the assignment you had to review before the meeting Leon had said you were attending. It definitely made you nervous, this was past your parameters and you hadn’t had any sort of experience with something this serious. At least, that’s what you thought it would be. You needed to be prepared for that so you didn’t look incompetent for this job that you only just got. 

Resting your chin on your hand with the other slowly scrolling through the page with the mouse, you cocked your head and looked up when Leon suddenly appeared in front of you. You shot a smile at him.

“Were you in a meeting?” He stood so tall from this angle with you sitting down, and your neck almost hurt looking up at him. 

“Yeah, light work though.” He held onto a file with his left hand. The right was in his pocket. He turned briefly to look behind him at the others who worked in the small lobby. “So, about that meeting next week,” you nodded, shifting your posture now. “It’s Monday morning. I just need you to be there to help with any outside communications like other appointments since it might be a while. I sent this to you–” He motioned to your computer, which was the PDF you had been reading from his email. “In case something happened to mine for whatever reason. God forbid...” He mumbled, partially rolling his eyes. You chuckled. “Good for you to know it though.”

“I figured. This is also light work.” You cocked a smile, and he repeated the action. “As long as I’m not being expected to execute the whole presentation, I think I can serve well to take calls for you.”

A quiet laugh rumbled out from him. “That’s all I need you for. It’s not here,” He leaned onto your desk with one arm, and you had to desperately peel your eyes away from the way his veins flexed in his forearm. The image was already burned into your brain. “It’s in the branch a couple cities over, so… If you would like to meet me somewhere over here,” You tried to swallow at the implication, but your throat was suddenly so dry. “You know, to make it easier.”

You drew in a breath. “Of course,” You put your hands into your lap so he wouldn't see you nervously wringing your fingers together. “How did you know about my minor driving anxiety?” You playfully quirked an eyebrow at him. 

He smiled. “Intuition. Or my job training.” He stood up straight now. You found yourself wishing he wouldn't leave. “You can leave at three with the rest of them today. I’ll see you on Monday.” You only released the breath you were holding when he was safely behind the confines of his office doors.

The weekend allowed a little relaxing, but mostly anxiety the close it came to Monday. You were finding it increasingly difficult to stop thinking about Leon. This whole week felt like a dream. Your body felt hot anytime you were alone in his office, or anytime he merely stopped at your desk to drop something off. You felt so small next to him, and almost struggled to form coherent thoughts when you had to speak to him. Your eyes thoroughly raked his body up and down when he was turned, his broad expanse of back and shoulders nearly turned your brain to slush. He always smelled like crisp cologne, something expensive, it had to be. 

You found yourself thinking too often about the way he looked at you. It was a stare that wasn't something you were used to receiving on a daily basis. There was something else… His gaze was dark and luring. Like he knew what you were thinking. Like when you two made eye contact, he knew he was the object of your fantasy. 

Which, yes, it had only been a week, but you had to admit, you had never seen anyone this attractive before. And here you were, working for him. It only made your skin heat up more at the knowledge that it was forbidden. It heightened the experience every time you had to see him. That was your boss, and he sure did have that power over you. The conversations you had with him bordered on strictly work, but you were dying to see another side of him. The smirk he gave you when you made him laugh had your stomach twisting in a way that lasted long after the interaction was over. Every time you said something that gave him that reaction, you needed to make it happen again. It felt like a new addiction that developed way too fast. You wondered if he could tell. You at least tried to be subtle about it. 

A shiver raked through your body as you stood outside of your car early that Monday morning. It wasn’t that cold, but you didn't think the weather was the reason you were shivering. You had arrived at headquarters to meet with Leon, as he offered to take you over to another city's department for his meeting. The aforementioned shiver happened immediately after turning and seeing Leon in the same outfit as you saw when you first met him.

His button down shirt strained on his biceps when he moved, and the gray vest sat perfectly on his waist, making you realize exactly how his frame would look underneath his clothes. You had to push this aside as he motioned you to come over to his car.

It was a sleek black sedan, which made sense for who he was. You felt shielded from the world as you closed the door, the tint locking you in next to your boss, who was insanely close to you, and you feared could hear your frantic heartbeat. 

He placed a few files on your lap and you let them sit there for the time being. “I was going to get you coffee, but I didn't know how you would take it.”

You held back a smile at the thought of Leon thinking of you this morning. “It’s okay, but thanks. I already had some.” You saw Leon nod out of your peripheral, and you could only look forward, knowing you might stare if you turned your head. 

“But you take…” Leon prompted. He’s curious anyway? Is he expecting to do it in the future? You could have exploded. 

After rattling off the basics of what you drink, he replied, “Sounds very sweet.” You laughed and nodded. “I don't know about all that. Maybe I’ll try it out.”

“You don’t strike me as the type to be into sweet things.” You risked a look over, and when you did, he mirrored the action with a grin on his face.

“You’d be surprised.”

Thankfully, you were very relieved at the end of the day when the meeting went by with minimal interaction on your part. You were introduced to some of the other important players in the legal game that knew Leon, and sat off to the side with one of the files he handed you. Despite most of the information going over your head, you still paid attention, at least to make Leon look good and show that you were a competent assistant. 

The sun was close to setting by the time you filed back out into the lot, trailing right behind Leon. Slipping into his passenger’s seat, he followed a second after, and you felt your body physically relax knowing the stressor of the week was now defeated.

“Not so bad, right?” He spoke without looking over, shifting gear and taking off.

“Are they always this long? Maybe I should plan ahead and bring multiple drinks with me.” 

He chuckled. “Only sometimes. This one was important, that’s why. They usually aren’t outside the city either so… consider this an introduction to the team.”

You rolled your eyes and looked over. “Do you keep forgetting that I already worked here before this?” You heard the smile through your own voice, and saw one creep on his face as he kept his eyes on the road. Your heart felt light. 

“No, absolutely not. The pace you work at is evident enough of that. It’s just a different type of job, I’m sure. I don’t really know what goes on down there.”

With the smile still on your face, you let your eyes linger on him for a moment more. His hair, which was pushed on top of his head, was starting to fall, and a strand fell onto his forehead. The past week, he had worn it down a couple of times, and you honestly didn't know which one you preferred.

You rolled your head over to the side, watching the passing cars go by. The radio was on, but at the lowest volume, merely for ambiance. Your hand brushed over the files on your lap, that you had taken back from Leon upon leaving so he could shake hands with whoever he needed to, and pried open one of them.

Before your eyes could even properly latch onto any words, Leon’s hand reached over and gently pushed the top of the file closed, and you looked over at him.

“That’s confidential, you know.” He looked over at you for a brief second, but you could see he wasn’t mad. 

“Sorry. I was just sitting through that whole thing, though, in case you forgot.” You looked back down at your lap and noticed Leon’s hand was still on the file, the weight of it heavy on your thighs.

“No, I didn’t forget. I don’t know how much of it was digestible to you.” He barely lifted his hand off of the file folder, pulling it sideways, landing it on your thigh for a second. His hand was big enough to wrap around the side, and a split second later, he dragged it off, and your skin burned with the track it traced. Breathing became hard suddenly, and you had to turn your head to the window and focus on the outside world.

You arrived back at headquarters thirty minutes later, and the fresh air felt incredible on your flushed skin. It wasn’t even that warm in the car, but you couldn't stop thinking about the way Leon’s hand felt on your thigh. It was like he never lifted his hand at all, you could still feel the contact lingering, the way his fingers grazed your leg, the immediate warmth you felt, not only on your thigh, but in your stomach. You wished you could have taken your jacket off in the car.

Before you could get any words out, Leon said, “Come up to the office for a second. I left something up there.”

You said nothing, simply followed him up. The parking lot was nearly deserted, save for the few officers doing a detail whom you greeted when the both of you walked in. You fiddled with the edges of the files you were still holding, not trying to look in any of them in case Leon were to reprimand you for it again. You were almost tempted to, just to see his reaction. That thought made your knees weak.

You followed him out of the elevator into the office. As expected, the lobby was empty. Leon made his way over to his desk, pulling open a file cabinet, and started sifting around. You stood there, then walked over and dropped what you were holding onto his desk. You looked around the office, it was as wide as the lobby was, and large windows spanned the walls. It was simplistic. His desk was in the middle, file cabinets behind him, multiple monitors, a few chairs in front of his desk, some  round black ottomans in front of a black leather couch to the left. There were more files open on top of one of the ottomans. 

You stalked over to it, leaned down and picked one up. It looked like what he had given you the other day–

“You must be a glutton for punishment.” You jumped slightly when Leon spoke from directly behind you and grabbed the file from your hands. You spun around. “You shouldn’t be rifling through random documents, you know.” 

You sighed, not wanting to make eye contact, but knowing not doing it would look bad. You kept your arms to your side despite wanting to cross them. His eyes were dark. You couldn't tell what type of reaction this was.

“I’m sorry. I’ll make a severe mental note of that.” He said nothing in return, simply looking down at you. The peaks of his bone structure highlighted by the distant street lamps and the glow of the moon outside the windows. It made the shadows look all that much darker. You felt a shiver crawl up your spine.

He hummed, a low, throaty sound. “My new assistant, just so nosy.” His voice was low, and you gulped, trying to blink through your emotions normally, but you knew it looked anything but. 

“Dare I say it’s in my job description.” You mirrored his low tone, mentally relieved it wasn’t as weary as you expected it to sound. You tilted your head up to his, as a small gesture of challenge.

He nodded his head, as if to consider your words. “Dare you do.” He backed up, placed the file on his desk, then came right back to his spot in front of you. You didn’t know what to do, so you stayed still. It was most likely the better option anyway, who knows if your limbs could even move properly right now. You felt bare in this position, your cotton top feeling too warm where it overlapped with your jacket, and though your legs were on display under your skirt, they, too, were burning up. Your heart was hammering, but Leon kept talking. “What do you think about this job so far, hm? Does it live up to expectations?”

You had to take a steady breath before answering. “I think this surpasses any expectation I could have ever set.”

“Good answer.” You maintained eye contact with the man in front of you, surprising yourself with how well you were holding it. He seemed unfazed at all. He was probably reading you like a book right now. “You know, I love having new recruits start here. They’re so unaware of their surroundings. It almost makes a fun game for myself. They think they are so secretive, but after a while I can tell whatever it is they don't want anyone else to know.” You felt your breath catch in your throat. You had a feeling you knew where this was going. “I know Breanna across the lobby from you doesn’t like her desk mate despite buying her coffee three times a week.” Checks out, I can tell, too. “I know Brett does things to stay awake during his shifts that he shouldn’t be doing within a 50 foot radius of a cop.” Ouch. That’s also true, but he only told me during a hard come down. “And, I know how nervous you are to be around me, and you don’t know what to do with yourself whenever I’m in the room.”

You made no moves now. How did he know? Surely you weren’t that obvious with it. It had been one week, and yes Leon called you into his office quite a bit during those five days, but he had work to hand off to you every time. It’s not like he was doing it on purpose. 

But now, standing under his hard gaze, nowhere to go, you weren’t so sure it was accidental. 

Your jaw tightened. “How can you be so sure?” Now, you could hear the waviness in your voice. A smirk blossomed on his handsome face. 

“I can see how you look at me. Usually these things take time to figure out, but you…” He took a step closer, and you took a half step back. It’s not like you didn’t want to be close to him, but now he was donning a persona that made you shrink into yourself. You knew you liked it by the heat spreading inside. “You, dear, are like looking through a window.”

“So… you tested it out earlier?” It felt like a pathetic question, but you needed an answer for why he put his hand on your thigh earlier. Compared to this current position, that seemed so tame.

He tilted his head slightly. “I’m pretty sure I was, but… I had to make sure I was gauging the situation correctly.” He looked you up and down, your hands had made their way to clasp behind your back, still fighting the habit to cross them across your chest. Your breathing felt erratic. “I would have left it there, but I couldn’t make too much of a scene. Not yet.”

You simply stared at each other. You could tell that he knew he had the upper hand, solely because he was correct. Everything he was saying was right. Damn that detective training, nothing was getting past him. The room was sweltering now, but maybe you were the only one that felt it. 

One last burst of confidence had you muttering, “You do this to all your new assistants?”

In one swift action, he had a hand over your waist and pulled you close to him. Bodies touching, heat feeling like a fire between you, he lowered his face so it was centimeters away from yours. The glisten of his eyes were the only thing you could see, and if you weren’t running on pure adrenaline right now, you probably would have collapsed. You felt the vibrations from his chest when he spoke.

“Only the ones I intend to hang on to. And I can’t say I’ve had multiple of those.” You gulped, and when you didn't reply, he continued, “Did I gauge the situation correctly?”

“Yes,” You whispered, and his mouth was on yours. 

His kiss was intense, and you felt now like your body might give out. Your hands found their way to make contact with him, one grasping the wrist that was holding your waist and the other to the side of Leon’s face, and you felt his other hand close in on your hips.

It was like nothing you had experienced before. The kiss was hot and messy, you let his tongue in easily, and you couldn't help the small sighs that escaped whenever he leaned in to deepen the exchange. You felt his nose press into your face, your foreheads pushed together and your bodies entirely too close you felt like one entity. The hand that was caressing his face snaked to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair, and your knees finally buckled when he gave a low growl in response to you tugging his locks. 

The kiss broke for a second as you lost balance, but he was not thrown off course. Hands still grasping your body, he found the couch that you were only a step in front of, and he lowered you on it, still connecting your lips together fiercely. Both of your hands now in his hair as your back hit the cushions, and you felt the dips next to you where he was kneeling over you. One of his hands let go of you and supported himself next to your head, but you craved the contact again.

He took your chin in his thumb and index finger and tilted your head slightly to the right, and broke the kiss, but his lips stayed on your burning skin as they traced down your jaw bone, biting into the flesh, and his tongue marked a path down your neck, and it was insanely hard to breathe. 

One of your hands found solace on his thick shoulder while he was still making work of the soft skin on your neck. The hand of his that wasn't on your chin still traced its way from your hip up to your chest, and he squeezed one of your breasts in sync with a bite to the neck. Your head pressed harder into the couch underneath you.

“Leon, please…” You gasped out, unsure if you even said it out loud, surprised you even had the energy to speak. You felt him lift his lips off of your skin a second later and his fingers moved your chin again to make you face him.

“What is it, hm? What do you need?” He dipped down to kiss you again, and you wished he would have stayed there so you wouldn't need to verbally answer him. 

“I… I don’t…” I don’t know, I need you. You barely had the breath to speak anymore, and though you knew Leon knew exactly what you were trying to say, he feigned confusion, and looked at you from under his furrowed brow. It was so obnoxious, it ignited the flame inside you even more. 

“Come on, baby, I can’t hear you.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and your vision went blurry with lust. You ground your jaw and swallowed your pride. 

“I need you.” You gasped out finally, your lungs deflating. Your hand was fisting the material over his shoulder, and you noticed through your haze that he wasn’t wearing the vest anymore. When did he take it off? Before you came up to the office? While you had your back turned? It didn’t matter, it was now one less thing you needed to rip off of him. 

“Is that so?” He went back to biting at your neck, and at this rate you didn’t care what state he was going to leave it in. You whined at his lack of response to your plea, feeling frustration and desire bounding up inside of you, needing an outlet to release it.

“Leon, fuck, please…” You weakly tried to push him back but he wouldn’t budge. He reconnected your lips again, and that you greatly accepted, pulling him closer now so he would continue kissing you with fervor. The hand that was on your chin finally left, and he replaced it on your wrist, and suddenly, he was hauling you up.

He pulled back from the kiss just as quickly as he was pulling you to sit upright, and he swiftly maneuvered you so that when he fell backwards to sit on the couch, you were pulled right on top of him, straddling his thick thighs. You couldn’t even imagine how you looked right now, it was out of your mind for now as you looked down at the man under you, his hands on your waist. His shirt was wrinkled and slowly being pulled out from where it was tucked into his pants. His tie was being loosened and the top two buttons had come undone, exposing the smooth expanse of skin over his collarbones and chest. As you let your weight settle onto your legs, and his, you lowered directly onto his growing erection, and he squeezed his hands over your torso and scrunched his face. With a heavy breath, he pulled his head forward and stared at you.

“Did you think I was just going to give it to you?” His voice was gravelly, and it almost made you whimper. His hands dropped to your thighs, which were now incredibly exposed due to the position of your skirt hiking up, and Leon probably had a view of the black panties you had on. You didn’t care. Let him see. You needed him to take them off.

You shook your head. “You can’t be nice to me?” Your hands came up to his chest, it was firm and sturdy, and you were dying to see it bare. You fumbled with the buttons, and Leon had been at least gracious enough to loosen the tie and throw it over his head onto the floor. 

Leon laughed. You felt it under your palms. “Darling,” You looked up to make eye contact with him at the mention of the pet name. “This is me being nice to you.” 

You barely had time to register his words, and the way it made your stomach turn before he had a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you forward to another intense kiss. You could barely breathe, your limbs were all pins and needles and your skin was alight with a burning ember, fueled only by Leon, but you loved it.

In the midst of the kiss, wet and slick and tongue heavy, your hands were needlessly prying the buttons open at the top of Leon’s shirt. His hands were traveling under your clothes, palms gripping your thighs, and you found yourself grinding down into Leon’s lap subconsciously, but kept going when it resulted in him groaning into the kiss.

You pulled back suddenly at the victory of pulling the last few buttons open, and Leon immediately caught your stare, but you dropped it to look down at the open expanse of skin and muscle that he had been hiding. A strong chest gave way to flexing ab muscles as he writhed under you, probably trying to gain your attention or to show off, and sturdy hip muscles abducted into V lines that disappeared under the waistline of his pants. You couldn’t help it, you reached out to drag your hands along the smooth skin, every second of contact adding to the pooling happening between your legs, where you were also very conscious of the fact that Leon’s hands were dangerously close to. 

“Do you want this to happen today, or do you want to keep staring?” Leon prodded at you jokingly, and when you looked up, a grin was plastered on his face, and his eyes were still dark. You felt the tightness arise again at just the sight of his expression paired with his upper body on display for you.

“You’re sounding more eager than me, now…” You breathily replied, overwhelmed with all of the emotions coursing you at once. 

Leon breathed a brief laugh before raising an eyebrow with his response. “I can show you eager.”

At once, his hand reached up in between your legs and you felt one of his fingers dance across the hem of your panties, and your grip tightened where your hand landed on his bicep. He gave you no warning when you felt him pull it aside, drag his finger downwards and raked his knuckle through your wetness, earning a sharp gasp from you in return, and you nearly fell forward onto his chest as the feeling sent sparks soaring through you. 

“Calling me eager…” The sound of his voice paired with the feeling of his fingers on you was far too much to handle. “Yet it feels like you must have been wet all night…” He dragged his finger back up to the top where he maneuvered his hand so the pad of his thumb pressed heavily on your clit, and you nearly screamed, but all sound was trapped in your throat as you lost function of your body.

He ripped his hand out of your underwear and it moved around to find the zipper in the back of your skirt. “Take that shirt off,” He ordered, and you obeyed as best you could through your stiff limbs. 

You peeled it off from the bottom, feeling the fabric stick to your moist skin, and Leon’s eyes heavy on you as you finally got it over your head and on the floor. Your lingerie choice was nothing phenomenal, for the expected business meeting at least, but you could tell by his gaze that it really didn't make a difference in what he was thinking right now. Seconds after you dropped your hands back to your sides, he flipped you once again, back on the couch and him hovering over you, pulling the skirt that he had unzipped down your legs, and into the pile of your shirt and his tie somewhere behind you.

Your breathing was erratic as you watched him intently, his lust-filled eyes on your body and his hand running lengths up and down your torso, legs, back up to your chest, and neck, and landing on your bra strap that he pulled down, and wasted no time in attaching his mouth your hot skin. Your hand gripped his elbow as he bit the tender flesh of your breast, he sucked on it harshly once, twice, before lifting and wrapping his lips over your nipple, which had your back arching and a string of soft moans pouring out. 

You felt an aching cramp in your core, the pleasure was insurmountable and you needed him to do something about it, but you knew he was buying time to rile you up as much as possible before doing so. You knew he was straining with his own pleasure and you were desperate to tear apart his belt and pants and take his girth into your hands, to feel it, to taste it, you wanted to choke on it, but you knew he wouldn’t let you do that. If not in the span of a few minutes, maybe not tonight at all. You were submitting your control, and you had to let him do what he wanted.

He finally let go of your nipple, and the air felt cold with the layer of saliva he left behind, and even though you were basically naked save for undergarments, you still felt too covered. You reached up to pull at Leon’s shirt, fully unbuttoned and untucked, and he leaned back on his knees to pry it off of himself. You could see his skin glistening with sweat as he moved, and so badly you wanted to reach out and touch him, run your hands over his skin, all of his muscles, pull him close so you could feel his chest on your own. 

Your eyes fell to his pants, and the tent that was present had your mouth watering, you needed him to pull it out, and now. 

Of course, Leon being ever so sharp, didn’t miss this. “We’ll get there. Don’t worry.” Without looking up, you could hear the cockiness in his voice, but you didn’t care anymore, you couldn't move your eyes from where they landed, trying to imagine his cock in its glory, how long and thick, how he would use it and how it would feel. You felt like you were melting.

Unmoving from where he was propped up in front of you, his hands traveled down the expanse of your legs, dragging his fingers underneath your thighs where it was sensitive, making you jump with the contact. His hands came around to the top of your knees, where he pushed your legs apart and lowered himself in between them. Even just the sight of him doing so had you whimpering, and when he pressed his thumb into your clothed clit, you bucked up, but he was quick to hold you down.

Keeping his thumb centered on your clit, he continued to apply pressure, using his middle and index finger to stroke up and down on the outside of your panties, which you were sure were soaked by now. Throwing your head back into the couch, one hand gripping onto the wrist that was holding Leon up and the other was clawing into the cushion, you were dying for him to do something. 

He was getting too used to teasing you now. He had you right where he wanted, half naked on the couch in his office after hours, so close to practically coming untouched at this point, and while you wanted to fight him on this, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. The mixture of the pleasure and mental ecstasy you were feeling had you forfeiting any sense of control now, and you just watched him, as he watched you.

All at once, you felt the cold air hit your core as your underwear was peeled away from you, but the sensation didn't last long as a hot, wet tongue was pressed into your heat, and you nearly screamed at the sudden contact.

His mouth was all you could focus on in that moment, you could feel every movement his tongue made, and your body reacted viscerally to it. Your hand flew out and grabbed onto Leon’s hair, which incited him to only keep going, and to be ruthless. His hands were digging into your thighs where he was spreading them apart, fighting against you wanting to close them in reaction to pleasure he was sending shooting through your body. 

One long, painfully slow lick from top to bottom ended at your clit where he latched on, tongue pressing in and teeth gently making an appearance, and your grip in his hair became even stronger when he pushed two fingers into you, your vision going blurry, and there was no filter left to stop any thoughts from pouring out over your lips. 

“Oh my god… Leon…” You were whining now, moaning in between deep breaths and gasps, feeling his fingers pump in and out all while his tongue was relentless on you. 

His mouth disappeared but his thumb took its place, and you felt him kissing, licking, sucking his way up your torso, chest, neck, until he was seated next to your ears, groaning into them as you dug your nails into his skin.

“Oh my god, what, huh? You like the way I make you feel?” All you could do was gasp out a ‘yes’ in response to his question, he wasn’t giving you any liberty to be coherent. “You probably thought about this all day…” A bite below your ear followed the sentence. “That pussy was so wet… you probably wanted this since the first day…”

And you did. How could you not have thought about this at the sight of your insanely attractive boss? Wouldn’t it be so hot to be banging your model-status boss, having to hide it from your coworkers, going in his office to sneak touches while no one outside those doors knew? Yes, of course you thought about it. It had your heart racing, and now you would stop at nothing to make those fantasies real.

“You feel so good, I can’t wait to be inside you.” With one last soft bite to the jaw, he pulled his fingers out of you, and involuntarily you whimpered, but he shut you up by pressing a kiss into your lips, which you greatly accepted. His kiss was harsh yet soft at the same time, you felt a passion behind it while also letting his tongue sweep over yours, tasting yourself on him, sighing into it, feeling like you could kiss him forever.

His hands left you, now feeling bare, you gripped his shoulders hard as you heard him undoing his own belt. As much as you wanted to do it yourself and be right in front when you pulled his hard cock out of his pants, you didn’t have it in you to attempt to move yourself, and with Leon on top of you, he was sure to stop any feeble move you made to do so.

HIs lips left yours once more and reattached to the side of your throat, biting down harder than before, but it only made you moan, arch harder into him, and sent a flurry of hot tingles into your pussy, aching for more action from him.

Leon pushed himself off of you, his warm mouth off of you and leaned back, staring at you panting, and of course, his dick in his hands was impossible to ignore. Just seeing it was almost bliss, and now you were desperate for him to use it as you lay there, being scrutinized under your boss’ gaze, and while you felt so tiny, just the sight of how hard he was made you feel so powerful.

He took a deep breath in, taking in the sight of you, before lowering himself again, lining up with your gaze so you looked him directly in the eye. You felt his forehead press into yours, his hand lingered around your underwear again, pushing it aside, and after just another moment of silence, another deep kiss, his bare chest met yours and you felt the tip of his dick push into you, past the entrance, into the warmth. 

You sighed so loud, followed by a moan, hands still gripping his shoulders, listening to him groan in tandem with you as he slowly bottomed out. His pelvis pushed against you, your legs coming up to wrap around him, and you felt his hands pull your bra down so he could cup your breast, his thumb rolling over your nipple, adding to the pleasure. 

“You feel so fucking good… Fuck…” He was groaning, he hadn’t even started moving yet, and you were dying for him to start. He sat still in you, lapping at the skin between your jaw and neck, positive he could feel the vibrations on his lips of your moans.

“Please, Leon, move… Please,” Your nails were surely digging red streaks into the skin of his back by now, but he barely even seemed to notice, rather, you thought he might have loved the feeling of it instead. You felt the pressure of him lying on top of you, paired with the pressure building in between your legs, your thighs beginning to shake, having to hold onto Leon tighter to steady them.

Finally, he slowly started to pull out, and you could barely breathe at the sensation it left behind. He kept his face buried in your neck, you could feel his ragged, heavy breathing and you could hear his groaning which was only making you wetter. 

His hips snapped forward, no regard to what pace you had wanted to set, not like it mattered, you probably would have told him quick and rough anyway if he asked. You almost screamed out at the feeling of him slamming into you, you could only throw your head back onto the couch cushion and rake your hands over his skin, into his hair. Leon licked a long stripe up your neck to your jaw, gently biting on your bottom lip before kissing you again. 

You kept kissing him hard in between his thrusts, with him pulling away for only a second at a time, both of you breathing hard, your hands traveling down to grip his biceps, and you could feel them flexing with his movement. 

“Shit,” He said over you, you could feel his breath on your lips. “So fucking tight,” One of his hands went down to grab onto one of your legs that you had thrown over him. “So fucking good.” He practically growled as he continued the assault on you, his hips showing no mercy, and his hand sure to leave a bruise on your thigh from his grip.

Leon pushed himself up, still inside of you, leaving you lying down. His skin was slick with his sweat, and maybe yours as well from being pressed against you. His hair was falling down over his forehead, and god he looked so good right now, if you weren’t already in the act of getting the shit fucked out of you, you would want to fuck him all over again. His hands adjusted their position to rest on your hips, pulling you up so he can fuck you from his kneeling position.

This new angle was hitting every spot perfectly, allowing him to go deeper than he was from just above you. The intense stretch his cock was delivering paired with the way he was holding onto your hips with such ferocity, all of it together was too much, and you were becoming unwound. 

“Leon… Leon, fuck…” You gasped out, barely able to finish your sentence, but Leon understood well enough. He slowed his pace only a beat, but it was enough to have you straining, desperate for him to go faster to allow you to finish. He kept up with the slower pace, watching you as you whined under him, begging him to go faster.

“Please, Leon…” You looked up at him through half lidded eyes, barely able to keep them open. Through them, you could see him looking at you, brows furrowed in exertion, mouth open, chest rising and falling with rapid breathing.

“Please what?” Leon growled. You whined again, knowing he wasn’t going to make this easy for you. “Say it.”

You couldn’t breathe, but you had to give him what he wanted so he could give you what you wanted. “Leon, please, I’m going to cum… please…” 

He leaned in again, still holding your hips up, his pace even slower now, and you could feel the heat bundling up, bringing tears to your eyes at the lack of relief. His face was inches away from yours. “Please, what?” 

You choked out a sob, mixed with a groan at the slightest movement he made inside of you. “Please let me cum Leon, please,” You had no voice at this point, the words coming out in a whisper, loud enough for him to hear, but he probably would have anyway. 

“That’s right.” He backed up now, and resumed his previous position. “Good girls get what they want when they ask.” Your eyes closed in bliss when he picked up his pace, the weight of his words hanging heavy in your head, adding to the ecstasy he was giving you right now. He was slamming into you again, steadying himself on your hips while also pulling them forward to meet his thrusts. You had no breath left to spare on words anymore, and fruitless moans spilled from your lips focusing the energy on bringing your orgasm to close. 

You tried to call out his name as best as you could, but all you heard were moans as the heat inside you came to a roaring burst, and you felt your legs tighten around Leon, his grip steadying you, your hands clawing at the cushion, at his wrists where they held onto you. 

Your heartbeat was crazy at this point, and you couldn't even hold your eyes open as you rode out your orgasm, his hands smoothing over your skin, and you used the sensation to come back to reality. He had momentarily stilled his movements again, and you felt his lips on your neck, none of the roughness there now. You rolled your head over to the side to face him, and when you did he attached his lips to yours, a passionate kiss, his hands feeling like heaven on your body. 

You pulled away and stared at him for a moment. His eyes were soft, but his face was still contorted in concentration.

“I hope you don’t think we’re done here, darling.” You breathed out a sigh, collecting yourself, a smile creeping onto your face.

You kissed him, and whispered into his lips, “Show me what you got left, then.”

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fanfiction #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy smut #fanfiction #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 fanfiction

[lilbitdepressed27]

Jenna Ortega x Fem!CopReader

Summary: you are a cop and Jenna's girlfriend

Warnings: fluff, angst

WC: 2.8k

Author's note: hope y'all like it sorry for any mistakes:)

Jenna lived a very busy life. From her schedule going from barely busy to being offered rolls for every possible roll she could dream of. She knew accepting the roll of Wednesday was going to either make her or break her career. She knew accepting such a popular roll would bring her more attention. It had become rare when she had free time. From all the filming she'd have to do, to all the interviews and photo shoots. It had been so exhausting. Physically and mentally. There were moments where she'd cry herself in to a panic.

There had been only one person who could calm her down. And that was her girlfriend of two years and half. One call from her was enough to calm her down. Just to hear her girlfriend's voice was enough, even when she was thousands of miles away. She truly did love her job, there was nothing else she'd rather do. But there was moments where she wished it didn't take so much of a toll on her.

But the moment she was offered a moment of peace she'd hurry back to L.A. Like how she was right now, she was only a few minutes away from her shared home. Although she knew her girlfriend was still working. She couldn't wait to surprise you. You had no clue she was coming home today.

She'd never forget the first time she met you. The way you looked in your uniform was a sight that had her feeling like she was drooling. Seeing you in you uniform never got old. She remembers the day she first saw you like it had been yesterday.

The police had been called on to the set due to a fight breaking out between two crew members. She remembered the day clearly. How two cops had shown up, one being a tall white man. He had been an attractive man she won't deny it but nothing had prepared her for the tall woman that followed behind him. Never had she seen someone so attractive, so breath taking. The way your arms flexed when you had to physically restrain one of the crew members.

The moment her eyes connected with yours, it felt like it was love at first sight. Something she had never believed in before that was until she saw you. The small smile you had shot her way had her heart racing. She knew in that moment, you'd be someone special in her life.

And she wasn't wrong.

Upon arriving at your house, she saw that your truck was not parked in its usual spot. She had hopped that you'd be home by now, but now she could surprise you when you got home. Thanking her driver as she got her bags and headed to the front door.

She couldn't wait to surprise you, she could only hope that you weren't in any more danger. She had her updates on you by one of your coworkers that was of a sister to you.

*

It had been a long day at work. After you got attacked by a few guys, after a stop gone wrong. To being involved in a shot out. All that had happened in the first five hours of your shift. You were sore and bruised. And just so tired. It was good thing your captain gave you the next three days off. You loved being a cop. It had been your dream job since you were a kid. But getting shot at was something you'd never get used to.

"Go rest L/n, you earned it. The last thing we need is for your girlfriend to be angry at us like last time. Who knew she could be so scary." Your friend Aaron who was also police officer joked.

"Hey don't underestimate the short latinas now Aaron."

You chuckled at the newest rookie. Celina was such a great change into the department. You knew she'd be a great cop.

"I'll see you guys later." You bid your goodbyes with a laugh. You really couldn't wait to get home. To lay on your bed and sleep. Well after talking to your girlfriend of course. You missed her a lot, FaceTiming wasn't enough nowadays. But it was the only thing letting you see her beautiful face. She had been away filming for the new season of Wednesday. With her no longer being in Scream 7. She a had bit more free time.

So with that in mind you hurried your way home. With L.A traffic it had taken a bit longer for you to get back home. Feeling relief once getting to your house. You hated coming home to an empty house, the times Jenna would be at home you were quick to get used to her being there. Your home felt so alive when she was home. So the times she was gone, the house felt so empty without her.

Shutting the door behind you, you were only two steps in when you froze in your tracks when you saw the back door open. As a muscle memory you went for your gun that was on your hip. But came back empty seeing as you showered and changed back in the station. Your personal weapon was in a safe, in your room. That was upstairs.

With your training coming at you, you were quiet as you made your way further into the house. Clearing every room you passed. Hoping that your training officer Harper's hand to hand combat would come in handy. There was noise coming from your gaming room. Even with your job, you still had time to game for a few minutes.

But if someone was in your gaming room. You knew they were most likely stealing. You had expensive equipment in there. Equipment you bought and other things Jenna bought you. The lights in the room were off, the only light in the room was coming from the hall. Meaning you could only see the figure of the intruder.

Using the wall as cover. They seemed small, easy enough for you hopefully to intimate them and if they react you could take them down. That's if they had no weapons.

"Police freeze, don't do anything stupid." Using your police voice. One of authority. You had to turn on the lights. Make sure they didn't have any weapons before you could fully come out of your cover.

"Mmm what are you going to do with me Officer."

"Jenna?" You turned on the light, smiling when you realized in fact it was your girlfriend who you hadn't seen in person the past four months. You had her in your arms in seconds. Your arms wrapping around her waist, lifting her off her feet. Her squeal was like a blessing in your ears. Her own arms wrapping themselves around your shoulder. Returning your hug just as tight.

The kiss that followed was filled with some love and so much more. You couldn't believe she was here with you. You couldn't believe that after four months she was back in your arms. The pain and soreness from your day was completely ignored, and honestly forgotten.

"God I missed you so much." You pulled away resting your forehead onto hers. With her legs wrapping around your waist you led her to your shared room. Hearing laughter as you continued to kiss all over her face.

"Put me down. I know you're bruised. Angela called me. Let me see you."

You should have known. The woman you work with, the ones you looked up to, they were more like sisters. Angela, Lucy and Nyla. They had grown fond of Jenna and you knew your girlfriend had grown a bond with them. So it was no surprise they told her about what happened today. With a sigh you took of your shirt. Revealing all your bruises and scraps.

You heard her gasp at the bruises.

"Hey I'm okay. Nothing I can't handle."

But she stayed looking at your bruises. Her fingers hovered over the bruises afraid of hurting you. Once she had heard what happened from Angela. She had been quick to try and call you. It was no surprise that you didn't answer. When she couldn't reach you, she had gone straight to the internet. Seeing the short videos of you being attacked. The way you were brutally assaulted by those men. It scared her how often you came close to dangerous situations.

"It still scares me. I don't want anything to happen to you."

You pulled her closer to you, wanting to comfort her in any way you could. "Baby look at me." Taking her cheeks into your hands, pulling her gaze away from your body to your eyes. Offering a gente smile.

"I can't promise that nothing will happen to me but I can promise that I'll try my very best to come back to you." Lightly placing pecks on her lips till you felt her smile.

"I know but ugh why can't you just work for me as my bodyguard or something." She complained as looked up at you, her hands creasing your bare lower back.

With a laugh you lead Jenna towards your shared room. "How about you tell me how filming went?"

"No how about you use that police voice, officer. I've been very bad."

It was good thing you had the next few days off. Seeing as you didn't get any sleep, the ache and soreness of the day was completely forgotten at the sight of your beautiful girlfriend's body.

*

"Oh my god you look so cute!" Jenna had put on the documentary you had been in. The documentary had been about a once famous celebrity, he's rolls had dried up, leading him into making cult of the students he was teaching.

It was a whole thing.

You were in a seat in your dress blues, you honestly looked awkward. "No I don't! I look like I'm constipated." You protested you didn't want to do the documentary in the first place. But your captain had kinda forced you. Seeing as you were one of the first cops to arrive on the scene.

"No you don't. Such sexy cop and you're all mine."

Her arm that was wrapped around your waist tighten. Her head was that had been resting on your chest was lifted as she looked up at you. Her eyes full with so much love.

"All yours." The smile you got return had you feeling like you won the lottery. Her smile was like a light in a dark room.

Lightly kissing you before pulling away to watch the parts of documentary you were in.

"Why can't we watch Wednesday? I was getting to the good part." You played with her long wavy hair. Gently scratching her skull, feeling the way her body basically melted on top of yours. You could tell she was tired. The way her eyes were fighting the sleep. A part of you wanted to take up her offer of being her bodyguard. You knew she struggled to sleep when she was busy. At least if you were with her. You could make sure she actually rests and take care of herself.

But you also loved your job. You had worked hard to be in the position you were in now. Not to mention the family you had found. You couldn't just leave them.

"You know I hate seeing myself on screen." Her finger traced random shapes on your bare stomach. Making sure not to hurt your bruises. Being back in your arms was everything she had wanted for the past months.

"But I love seeing you in action I-" You let out a laugh at the sight of her raised eyebrow, the suggestive smile she shot your way. "Stop, get your dirty mind out of there." The actress only let out a laugh, her smile only growing, it was a sight you loved dearly.

Jenna laid her head back down on your chest. Looking back at the television seeing you answering questions with your 'police officer' look. It was a look she found attractive, you looked so serious, so professional.

"Officer Y/ln, you've been an officer for three years now. Was this your craziest experience?"

She watched as you let out a short laugh, "Not even close. But this was one goes down as probably one the weirdest."

"Oh what was the craziest?"

"Mmh I don't-Oh! Tell them about the time a party mistook you and Bradford as strippers!" Was heard from behind the camera.

You had prepared yourself for the full on belly laugh the actress let out. You had once told her about that incident. You had never been so mortified and embarrassed in your life. Hearing the filming crew laugh had you chuckling as you clearly saw the blush on your own cheeks.

"Oh my god I can't believe Lucy brought that up."

"Me neither. Tim was pretty embarrassed as well."

The rest of the day was spent with Jenna in your arms. Taking advantage of the free day you both had. You couldn't ask for anything more.

*

"Just be safe okay?"

You were now back at work. The days you had off had passed way too fast. Your lovely girlfriend was still at your house enjoying her own free time. You were working the night shift for the next few days, along side your partner. Leaving for work had never been so hard. A part of you didn't want to leave Jenna's side. You had been so comfy laying on the couch with her before you had to get up and leave for work.

"Y/LN! Let's go, we have to question victims of a drive by."

And with that you were of to do your job.

*

The sun set and it had become dark out. The street lights came on, the streets empty, as faint sounds of yelling and gun shots rang out. The two officers trying their best to escape the suspects of the drive by they had been called to investigate further. With the ammunition quickly running low and their radios down they had no other option but to run from the suspected killers. Running into an apartment complex hoping they'd find someone that could help.

~

Jenna sat back on the couch watching the documentary you were in once again. She couldn't get over how attractive you looked on tv. While she waited for you to get from work, she made herself busy, by cleaning the house(which she didn't have to do much. You're a clean person.)

She also texted you. You always texted back. Even if the text was short. Most of your night shifts were always quiet. So you'd respond to her in full length texts. And when you were actually busy a simple thumbs up emoji would settle her nerves. But the last text she sent you was thirty minutes ago. By this point she would have gotten a simple emoji. But she was yet to receive anything. You hadn't even opened the text.

She couldn't help but to worry, her gut was telling her something was wrong. So she called one of your coworkers. Angela. Hoping the older woman could settle her nerves.

~

More gun shots rang out, the two officers had tried their best. Doing everything they could possibly do with the little ammunition they had left. Yet at the end it had not been enough. They were still out numbered.

Cutting through an alley had not been the smartest decision on the officers part but yet they had no choice. The only sound they could hear was of the dogs barking aggressively, the sound of their boots hitting the wet hard pavement and their heavy breathing.

Those criminals were out for blood and it was the exact thing they were getting. As they drove in from the other side of the alley successfully shooting one of the officers.

The shooting stopped as one of the officers successfully put down the two criminals. Their moment of relief quickly came crashing down at the sight of their partner on the floor.

The cries, the begging for their partner to stay down, to remain calm felt like they echoed. The cries for help as their partner chocked on their blood before going limp. Completely unaware of the criminals sneaking behind.

The officer noticed a moment too late, not being quick enough to reach their gun before the gun fire rang out once again.

**

It was two hours after she got off the phone with Angela when there was a knock on the door. She had moved quickly to reach the door. Swinging it open when she saw that it was Angela on the security cameras.

Angela didn't have to say anything. The look on her face said it all.

"No. No. No."

The cry was filled with denial, pain, heartache. The older woman could try to comfort the short actress. Although there was absolutely nothing she could do.

You were dead.

Gone.

:(

#fem!reader #x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader #x fem!reader

[essenceofelegance]

new year’s day

Luke Castellan x aphrodite!reader

m.list

warnings: angst </3

There's glitter on the floor after the party,

He’s giving her that smile.

The one reserved for you.

The one you adored so, so much.

Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby

Luke took her hand in his larger one, leading her back to her cabin.

He laughed at something she said.

You directly your attention back to cleaning up the Aphrodite cabin after a party, alone.

Luke used to do it with you.

Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor You and me from the night before, but

While you were cleaning you own bed, you found a polaroid picture of you and Luke from a year ago, probably.

You were wearing a pink, feathered cowboy hat, you were leaning into the camera, a bright smile on your face.

Luke’s hands were on your waist, he had a pink fur boa around him to match your hat.

You would give anything to have him hold you just one more time.

Don't read the last page But I stay when you're lost, and I'm scared, and you're turning away

Of course he would like an Athena girl.

They’re smart, they can fight, and they’re pretty.

Sure, she doesn’t have that radiant glow around her like you did, but she was still pretty.

She had h/c hair, like you did.

She also had e/c eyes.

But her’s… looked so much better than yours. It glowed.

She looked better, she could fight better, she was actually smart.

Your siblings reassured you, insisting that you were a daughter of Aphrodite, there was no way she was prettier than you.

But that wasn’t the way you saw it.

And in your eyes, that wasn’t the way Luke saw it either.

I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

You were teaching your usual archery lessons, when you spot Luke and his new girlfriend in a sparring match.

He looks happy.

Only, a different kind of happy.

Sure, you were good with a dagger, but not sword fighting. You were never good at sword fighting, you were only good at archery.

Maybe Luke wanted something who appreciated the things he liked to do.

You squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi I can tell that it's gonna be a long road

"It's not you, it never was, its just that I feel like we don’t get each other anymore." Luke said.

"Yeah, I get it." you looked down to hide your unshed tears.

"Thanks for... everything," you gave him a forced smile.

“You were great. You were a great experience,” Luke said, as if to comfort you.

‘You were everything!’ you wanted to scream at him.

But you just smiled and walked away.

I'll be there if you're the toast of the town, babe Or if you strike out and you're crawling home

You watched as Luke celebrated his capture the flag victory with his new girlfriend.

You weren’t jealous,

you just felt replaced.

How could he replace you so easily when you felt like your heart would be empty for years?

Did you really mean that little to him?

You couldn’t bear watching them anymore.

Don't read the last page But I stay when it's hard, or it's wrong, or we're making mistakes

A total of 17 guys sent you flowers.

If you were a logical person, you would have at least hooked up with them, but little old you decided that you should wait for Luke.

So, you rejected every single guy that came up to you.

All your siblings are just straight up worried about you now, they knew how important Luke was to you, but not to this degree.

You still cry yourself to sleep every night,

they find you in the middle of the night going through a photo book of you and Luke.

I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

Hold on to the memories They will hold on to you

You still wear the matching bracelet he gave you for your second anniversary.

He’s wearing a new one with his girlfriend.

You see them connecting their magnetic heart charm on their bracelet at campfires, while you’re here playing with yours that no longer had a match.

Hold on to the memories They will hold on to you

You still have his favourite hoodie under your bed.

You still have his favourite shirt under your bed.

You still have one of his camp t-shirts on your bed.

He caught you wearing his hoodie on you way to the bathroom in the middle of the night when you bumped into him.

He never questioned you or asked for it back.

Hold on to the memories They will hold on to you

You still have everything he gave you.

And I will hold on to you.

Everything reminds you of him.

That one bench where the two of you used to hang out on everyday,

ever your own bed, where he used to sneak in to talk to you at night.

Please don't ever become a stranger Whose laugh I could recognise anywhere

You hate it when she makes him laugh.

You hate it when you hear that damn laugh.

You hate it because it didn’t happen because of you.

Please don't ever become a stranger Whose laugh I could recognise anywhere

You hate him because he’s not yours.

-

There's glitter on the floor after the party Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby

It’s been a couple of months.

You still wear his hoodie to sleep.

liked this? or want something better? City of Stars is much more heartbreaking </3

author: yay

Copyright © 2024 Emory Belrose. All rights reserved. 

⋆

Please do not re-upload my work on any platforms without permission.

Any reblogs, comments, likes, shares, and follows are appreciated.

#pjo fic #pjo fanfic #pjo characters #pjo luke #pjo series #pjo #percy jackson show #percy jackson #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke pjo #charlie bushnell #pjo imagine #taylor swift

[weebsinstash]

You know, not that I've officially watched the movie or the second or third season of JJK yet or anything, but, I was sitting on the concept of, could you even fuckin imagine if Reader was like another friend in the Gojo/Geto group in their high school days but at some point, you're sent away, with my current running idea that the Reader falls into such a depression that they struggle to use jujutsu anymore and the higher ups have them sent away to either train or not be a danger to anyone any more

Fast forward to the future where Gojo and Geto have had their falling out and Satoru bumps into you again after having literally forgotten about you, and as all the memories come rushing back to him, all the pleasant nostalgia, the sudden crushing realization that oh my god he missed you, why didn't he even think about you, you hit him with, "so do you know where I can find Suguru?"

and Gojo is so so so SO fucking pissed because it turns out that after Gojo lost touch with you, Geto actually maintained contact, and you've been in touch all these years, and Gojo is just standing there with clenched fists about to crack his own gritting teeth as you're all smiles, "-and this keychain is actually from last year when we met up for some coffee and we talked about me coming back-" and Gojo is hit with the double whammy combo of, not only have you kept in touch with Geto all this time, GETO kept in contact with YOU and straight up fucking kept you to himself, did not even give half a fuck about connecting you back with Satoru, what seeing you again might have healed for him after Riko, nothin, just Geto keeping you to himself. Satoru ready to actually throw hands with his old friend as he asks you why you never reached out to him, what does Geto have that he doesn't, and you just look hurt and confused. "Suguru said you never wanted to come. You always had better things to do..." and you just look so sad, almost like you miss him--

Satoru over here 'SUGURU WHEN I CATCH YOU SUGURU' because you were literally sent away when he NEEDED YOU and you NEEDED HIM (in his mind) and Geto was over here LYIN "oh, no, Gojo says he doesn't have time for pointless things like these" as he took you to the zoo, the aquarium, arcades, totally not vicariously living his teenage years again with you, totally not borderline dating you, totally not amassing his own stalker shrine of photos and trinkets and the occasional piece of your hair

and of course, when Geto finally shows his true hand and has to be taken down, and you're there screaming and sobbing and mourning your only and closest friend, who else but Gojo is there? Who else is there that you know that you can even talk to? Satoru gets to play the good guy and help dry your tears and hold you as you're absolutely devastated.

Obviously now that you're a screaming crying mess, and you had all those issues in the past, and maybe just maybe Geto may have choked out amongst all the blood asking for Gojo to take care of you, Satoru can't possibly let you go your own way again. He isn't a boy who will just idly sit back while you're taken away anymore, either. He's a grown man now, and he can protect you. He's Satoru Gojo, the strongest, the enlightened one, and, now, you're his only true friend, and he'll keep you safe and sound for as long as you draw breath, even if you don't want him to

#yandere jjk #yandere x reader #yandere gojo x reader #yandere geto x reader #idk what to tag characters i only do it sometimes #sinprompts

[unforth]

We are one Iowa caucus into the absolute shitshow that is going to be the US 2024 elections, and I'm already sick of seeing takes downplaying the risk that Trump and his fascist followers represent.

Look. Around 1900, my mother's grandparents immigrated to the Lower East Side of New York City. They brought with them children born in Europe (Poland? Ukraine? which country they were in depends on what year we're talking about) - we're not 100% sure they were THEIR children, even, but there were three, and they were young, and they came. But my great-grandparents had siblings, parents, cousins, uncles, aunts, huge families. And while my understanding is that an attempt was made to convince those folks to move to the US, none of them ultimately opted to.

They all kept in touch as they were able, exchanging letters and pictures, but through World War 1, through the 20s, through the Great Depression, through the worsening situation in Europe in the 1930s, my entire extended family who chose not to immigrate...continued to stay.

I think we all know how this story ends.

I have an entire family photo album of people whose names I will never know, because after every single one of them died in the Holocaust, my great-grandparents and grandparents couldn't bear to even label them. And they were PEOPLE, poor, vibrant, eager to maintain connections with their loved ones abroad. One was a Klezmer musician, and we have photos of him with all the different instruments he played. They're so real on the page, and they all ended in ashes.

And you know how that started? Fascism started with every inch allowed, with every well-intentioned moderate who tried to maintain a middle position even as the whole ground shifted right beneath their feet and even "middle" became extreme, every "no that change isn't coming fast enough, I want instant full improvement NOW" liberal who felt that doing nothing was better than accepting a slower improvement in the (truly awful!) post-World War 1 living situation in Germany.

Most of the members of my extended family also downplayed the risks. They never imagined that the worst could happen to them. They never fathomed how bad things could become.

And now I have their example always before me to know and to scream:

I KNOW HOW BAD THINGS CAN BECOME. I KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO MY FAMILY THEN.

I WILL NOT LET THAT HAPPEN TO MY FAMILY NOW.

People look at me like I'm crazy when I say I've got our passports ready (and have had since before the 2020 election).

Look. I don't know what will happen if Trump is elected, but there's a very real possibility he will, and he's been extremely clear about saying what he'll do. He did a lot of the things he said he'd do last time. I expect he'll continue to do the things he says he'll do. And the things he say he'll do will lead to the deaths of more people than we can imagine - in the US, in Palestine, throughout the world.

Don't tell me there's a middle ground here. Don't tell me I'm over-reacting. Don't tell me the worst won't happen. Don't tell me the risk is mild. Don't tell me we're safe.

We. Are. Not. Safe.

The lives of dozens, hundreds, of members of family were lost in the 1940s amid the horrifying statistic "6,000,000 dead Jews."

I will not let my life (as a Jew), my wife's life (as a disabled woman), my son's life (as a biracial boy), my daughter's life (as a biracial trans girl), be part of the statistics that come from our a second Trump presidency.

If you won't vote like YOUR life depends on it, vote like someone ELSE'S life depends on it, because IT DOES.

And if you can't even do that much, at least shut the fuck up and stop spreading your poison around. You're wrong. The danger is real. Downplaying it now won't make your conscience feel any clearer when it actually happens, and comforting everyone else downplaying it will just make you that much more complicit.

#unforth rambles #politics #us politics #genocide #genocide tw #i don't know how to tag this #i wish the album was here instead of at my mom's #i want every one of you who think this doesn't matter #to stare at the smiling faces of my long-dead relatives #and see these people who were shot and stabbed and burned and raped and destroyed #who died in rebellion or despair in hopelessness or desperation #no matter how much or how little they fought #they're all ashes now and nothing will bring them back #i have no family in europe #not a single person survived #i won't let my family be the ones who stay too long because we don't take it seriously #and neither should you

[oonajaeadira]

Detected

Fandom: Merge Mansion / Tim Rockford

Pairing: Tim Rockford x f!reader

Reader: Adult female. No other physical descriptors; no use of y/n.

Rating: T. Fluff.

Warnings: Mention of serial killer that targets women.

Summary: Nobody sees you the way Tim does.

A/N: I dunno, I just had a hankering to write for Tim and looked down my list of tropes thinking I might be able to scratch the itch and accomplish a fic for my Year of Tropes at the same time. Something hit me in the right places for a little piece of sweetness, so here we go, with SECRET IDENTITY.

This is really fluffy. Like stupid fluffy. Moreso than my regular stuff. Just let me have my little trope. This one didn't go through a lot of draft revisions, it was just a fun little thot that needed out.

“Why don’t you take the afternoon off, Sunshine? Get some rest. You’ve been here ten days straight.”

Tim’s the only detective in the unit who talks to you directly, certainly the only one that doesn’t just call you ‘hon’ or ‘sweetheart’ or ‘girl.’ You’re pretty sure he’s probably the only one in the department that knows your name, but he rarely uses it. 

That isn’t unusual. You’ve always been the quiet one, the mouse, the wallflower. It’s your superpower, being able to go unnoticed. You’ve never been reprimanded, never bad-talked, never held up as a bad example.

But then, neither do you often find yourself praised or called in for opinion. Never once have you been asked to join anyone for happy hour or coffee.

So many times you’ve been standing in a meeting room and not once been addressed. So many times you’ve overheard something that perhaps you shouldn’t have just because you were below anyone’s notice.

It bothered you so much more when you were younger. Not the case anymore.

You’ve learned to love your quiet life, shuffling around the records room, carefully tagging and bagging, filling out the document cards, compiling files, taking meticulous photos of items for court cases and detective scrutiny. Nobody comes looking for you, so you get to take your time, a kind of professional meditation. At least once a week you notice a detail on a piece of evidence that you might make known to one of the team. Usually this gets you a thanks, but more often times a brush off that ends in the detective later gaining the credit for the discovery.

Tim is different. Observant. He actually listens when you bring him something of interest and asks for your opinion or your second eye. He still does that thing where he puts the pictures of people and evidence you provide up on the wall and connects it with string. He will stare at that board for hours, getting up every now and then to pace, then turning the chair around to straddle it backwards so he can lean over the back and look again, hoping to find the one connection that the string can’t touch.

And yet, even when he’s concentrating this hard, he’s fully aware of his surroundings.

So much so that he even notices you’ve slipped into the room to stand behind him--you, who goes mostly unnoticed when standing in full view of most people.

When you don’t answer him, he turns his chin back over his shoulder, his sharp profile coming into relief against the organized mess of the illuminated case wall. 

He’s so very handsome. And it’s a shame he doesn’t seem to know. Or care.

Snapping free of your musings, you finally answer. “Yeah, it’s been a busy week. I’ve still got the Murray case to document. There’s a lot of entries.”

Turning fully to look at you now, he takes his time formulating a new response. “That case is closed. There’s no hurry. You work too hard. It’s Saturday.”

You shrug and smile. “I like my job. And you're one to talk.” Nodding to the evidence wall, you step more fully into the room. “Any movement on this? Sure I can’t help you? Anything I can pull from archives?”

This is a tough one. There’s a lot of speculation as to the mangled bodies in the pictures. A new one found last night, a week old. The probability is high that there’s one club downtown that’s producing them all and a definite suspect, but the record’s clean. There’s no grounds for warrants.

He gives you one more thoughtful glance before turning back to his work. “Not unless you have anything that correlates this last one to Club 88 or to Mike Cross. But no. Thanks. Get out of here, live your life, be free. I’m gonna go grab an interview out at the pier but then I’ll be here all night.”

He’s hungry. You can see that look in his eyes, he’s close, he just needs that one connecting piece of evidence and he’ll empty the coffee pots in the breakroom tonight looking for one.

“You’re hungry, Detective Rockford. At least let me call in some takeout for you before I go? Lau’s number 22 with chicken, right?”

He simply nods. “Thanks, Sunshine.”

“You got it, Detective.”

—-

Your pager goes off two hours later.

Special case. Could use your help. Pier 13.

You’ve been waiting for the call.

Upon arriving home from the department, you’d closed your blinds and turned off the lights, pulled on the dark pants and long fitted coat, tucked your hair up under the black hood and pulled it low. Gloves. Boots. Plain and unassuming in this fall weather.

You’re able to walk out the back door of your apartment building and take a path through the alley as the sun is setting without anyone giving you a second glance.

The only piece of your disguise you truly need is the vocal changer mask, but that stays tucked in your coat pocket until you arrive at the pier.

Once you can smell the water, you take a moment to hide your face, your voice, and your identity under the dark, nondescript mask–a blank slate of void where a face should be–before stepping out of the alleys and making your way to pier 13 where Tim Rockford stands looking out over the harbor at the lights starting to come on over the bridge.

“What can I do for you, Detective?” The voice that grates out of your mask is low, warped, almost sultry.

Tim, for all his awareness, misses your entrance. This is the strength of your powers. Snapping out of his reverie, he spins to find you only feet away, your long coat fluttering in the breeze.

And an awed smile spreads across his face.

Tim is the only one on the force that smiles when you show up as the Shadow. The rest of the cops tend to startle, recoil, not understanding how you simply seem to appear out of the air, unfold from the shadows, melt into the darkness itself.

“Thanks for coming, Shadow,” he says, his trenchcoat joining in the fluttering conversation of overwear. Pulling a few pictures out of his pocket, he holds them out and you take them.

A new mangled body. A hurried photo of a man with light skin and dark hair and blue eyes. A blown-up scan of license plate. You recognize them from his evidence board but say nothing, letting him make the request.

He explains the supposed serial killings, the patterns, the suspect, the license plate that isn’t his but was caught on surveillance near a couple of the dumping grounds.

“I’m pretty sure it’s him,” he concludes, poking at the photo of Mike Cross, “but I’m lacking something damming.”

“You mean you're 100% sure it's him. You're a thorough man; wouldn't just jump to conclusions. And you want me to go hunting.”

“I’d rather you just go take a listen. I don’t really want you to put yourself in danger.”

It’s a good thing he can’t see you smile. Trust Tim Rockford to be the one detective that worries about the safety of the city’s resident secret, pacifist vigilante. 

“I’m touched by your concern, Detective. But I haven’t been caught yet. Even if danger catches a glimpse of me, I’m very good at hiding.”

“I know. But it’s only a matter of time before somebody really sees you.” He smiles a little sadly. “I wish you wouldn’t hide from me. But I know why you do.”

It should be surprising–it’s not like him to cross this line–but instead, his statement warms you. Tim has always been grateful for the Shadow’s help, respectful, believed in your ability. But he’s also come to treat the Shadow as a friend. There’s something that tugs at your heart, knowing this dedicated, handsome, intelligent man truly trusts you but also respects and admires your limitations.

If only he knew how much you wish you could tell him, show him, let him know how much you admire him too.

He only blinks when you seem to melt into thin air, becoming one with the lengthening shadows.

_____

Club 88. The back alley. A black car belonging to Mike Cross. Nobody here to notice you but the rats as you duck around the back and inspect the bumper, find a magnetized plate cover hidden underneath that matches the photo in your pocket.

There’s the connection. Now for something that threads the needle.

_____

Maskless and hatless, you simply take up a serving tray and follow Mike Cross and a young pretty thing through the swinging “employees only” door and down a back corridor of the dark, thumping night club. Making yourself busy with empty bottles on the tray, you watch him pay a man and step into a private room with the girl. The man goes to find something else to do, nearly knocking your shoulder as he passes, as if you’re simply a tower of inventory boxes or a rogue tray of dirty dishes…or just some random hostess he doesn’t have time for.

Easy.

You’re able to enter the dimmed room under the guise of bringing in bottle service. The couple doesn’t even notice you while they make out on the couch in the VIP lounge. You simply dip your hand into the pocket of the jacket he’s left on a chair and lift his wallet. 

Might as well take the gun that’s there too. Just in case.

Time to get moving while he’s distracted.

_____

Using the address on the ID in his wallet, you make your way across town.

It’s easy enough to slip past the doorman. Unfortunately though, Mike’s apartment building has security cameras on every floor. This calls for a little distraction. Easy enough. All you need is the pad of paper and pen you carry in your pocket.

Knock on door 312. Explain you’re responding to a noise complaint in apartment 313. There is no apartment 313? That’s odd. Maybe it was apartment 311? 

When the occupants of 311 and 312 speculate over the possibilities–which apartment was the loud one? Who called in the complaint? They bet it was 211 down there, what a bitch….

It’s just enough time for you to use your jiggler key to work open the lock for Mike’s apartment and slip inside. Not only have they seemed to forgotten about you, but if anyone ever plays back the security tapes, their eyes will just slide right over you and concentrate on the gossiping neighbors in the hall.

Mike’s apartment is clean and sparse. By the looks of the set up of the living room, he likes to sit in the center of the couch, put his feet up on the coffee table while he drinks his beer (water ring stains on the veneer top) and watches tv. Not much on the walls. Books on the bookshelf, but no knicknacks.

You don’t know what you’re looking for yet, but you’ll know it when you find it.

There are a few places you start. The drawers in the kitchen. The freezer. The bedside table. Shelves in the closet. Medicine cabinet. Somewhere you'd stash something unassuming but precious but that you don't want anyone else to come across and ask questions.

But it’s as you pass back out through the bedroom, and lightly push the door open a bit wider that you hear a clinking and tapping on the other side.

There, hanging off a hook on the back of the bedroom door, is a silver chain.

With five women’s rings on it.

Yahtzee.

You snap a few photos with your phone before moving through the apartment again, looking for anything else, just in case your first instincts were wrong.

But your instincts are very rarely wrong.

Criminals love trophies. Little keepsakes of their thrills. Look for a collection of something that seems out of place and you’ve probably found your clue.

You’re just about to call it good and head out when you hear a key turning in the lock.

No need to panic, you’ve got this.

As Mike enters and kicks off his shoes before making his way to the bathroom, all you have to do is stand silently beside the far side of the bookshelf.

He doesn’t even turn on the light. Even easier.

Once the bathroom door closes, you’re able to silently slip out.

“It’s only a matter of time before somebody really sees you.”

Doubtful, Tim. But I wish I could tell you how sweet your concern is.

____

True to form, Tim’s is one of the only lights burning at the office when you slide through the department well after midnight.

It’s not often that you show up here as the Shadow, but you make sure it’s only at night when most of the lights are out. Even if you’re seen engaging with one of them, the detectives all know to look the other way and not to ask questions when someone on the force has requested your services. 

They see nothing, and say less.

When you get to the back offices, you have to stop for a moment in the shadows and take in the scene.

Tim’s here in the dim room, standing at a desk full of evidence bags. The one with the knife in it lays on a lightbox, the glow of which reaches up to caress his face, dragging at his cheeks and the bags under his eyes, his brow and bottom lip succumbing to the pull of contemplation.

You have to wonder if the detective has any joys outside of his work, if he reads or paints, if he’s into woodworking or collecting memorabilia. You often find yourself wishing you had the means to learn more about him and find yourself watching him from across the office as if you could read it in the stretch of his aching neck, in the hunch of his gun-holstered shoulders. 

But you’ve grown used to your quiet life. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if someone else actually paid you enough attention to let you into their life–

“What have you got for me?” he asks, and you flinch. He hadn’t even turned around.

“Plenty," you rasp through the voice modulator. "How did you know I was here?”

“I always notice you,” he says. “And I could ask you the same thing.”

“Where else would you be?”

“I have a home.”

“Do you ever go there?”

He laughs and finally turns. “Yeah, not lately.”

Emerging from the darkness, you hand him a few photos you ran off from your phone at home, knowing he'd appreciate the analog. There's the plate cover. The ID. The chain of rings. You also hand over the gun you pinched. “Just in case you need to run a match on any casings.”

It’s here that Tim’s look grows sour. “You took this off him?” Then he tilts his head, scanning the photos. “This one…taken inside his house?”

“Yes. Most likely a collection of his trophies–”

“You went into his house??”

His intensity stops you. Something’s….wrong. “It was necessary. I wasn’t seen.”

“I told you, nothing dangerous. What if he’d come home?”

“He did.” This gains an unprecedented look of alarm from the otherwise calm and calculated man. “I told you, Detective, I wasn’t seen. I never am. That’s what I do.”

“That’s not the point, Sunshine. He murders women and dumps their bodies. This is different from the drug smugglers and counterfeit runners you usually surveil…”

He stops, registering what he just said only a couple of seconds after you do, a calm sigh of regret washing over him before being replaced by the bloom of concern.

You could choose to ignore it.

But it's useless. Tim would never let an assumption take hold as truth unless he had absolute proof. He’s the best. The best of the best and doesn’t even know it. So long you’ve wished to tell him, to make him see what you see in him, but it would mean opening yourself, becoming visible, being seen.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This is your superpower, this anonymity, this blurring at the edges, this void of connection…

And you should back away when he approaches.

But you don't want to. 

Nor do you dodge as he slowly reaches up to remove your mask. Your hood. Fits his palm to your jaw and runs the length of a cheekbone with his thumb. “It doesn’t work on everyone, Sunshine. Not if they really want to see you.”

As his warm, weary brown eyes find yours, two thick, generous tears spill down your cheeks, two surprising hot spikes of your heart right there on your face. It’s like being thrust underwater without the chance to take a breath, the panic of suddenly being the center of someone’s attention, and you gasp for air only to release a sob, slapping both hands to your face in embarrassment.

Tim doesn’t pry your hands away, he merely runs a knuckle over one as if to say, hey, you’re still hiding.

And you realize that you are.

When you finally don’t have to be.

When you lower your guard, he’s waiting there patiently to welcome you back.

“You okay?” he asks, handing you a napkin for your tears.

Nodding, you take it and use it quietly before swallowing, trying to steady a voice out in the open. “What now?”

He looks pointedly over at his desk and gestures for you to head over there. “I thought maybe we’d start with dinner. I figured you'd come by.”

There are two Chinese takeout boxes on the blotter, both bearing a code in black ink. 

22C. His standard.

Lucky13. Your favorite. With the sauces on the side, just like you like it.

Speechless, you look at him in awe. You do see me.

And he tucks his hands in his pockets, softening back at you with a look that can only be described as Yeah.

_____

In the following days you’re able to hunt down photos of the killer’s victims that clearly display their hands and the rings that you found in his apartment.

Undercover targets are planted in the club to entice Mike Cross, and sure enough, he takes one to the back room, pays for privacy, extra for a later cleanup, but gets caught with his fingers around her throat as a whole squad breaks down the door to take him into custody.

There’s no doubt he will never see the outside of a prison again.

Club 88 is shut down and a long investigation into its ownership and practices begin. The Shadow is called in by the investigating team for your fly-on-the-wall services and at first you’re afraid that perhaps, now that you’ve been seen, that the shine of your powers has dimmed or–to be more precise–a newfound confidence makes you even brighter than before.

On the contrary, you’ve never felt more powerful or more in control of your abilities. 

Perhaps because the one person who can detect your sunshine also pours pride into your shadow.

Or maybe it’s the regular diet of Lucky Number 13 and a new morning view these days. Who’s to say?

____

MASTERLIST

CHARACTER MASTERLIST

#merge mansion fanfiction #tim rockford #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford x f!reader #year of tropes

[starry-eyes-love]

Hollywood Story

Masterlist

Pairing | Dieter Bravo X Curvy F!Reader (nicknamed ‘pretty little girlfriend’)

Summary | You wake up to find the Hollywood News article plastered all over the internet of Dieter kissing his co-star, Amy, while on set for the filming of his recent movie. At first, you find the article funny until you start reading the comments and see another article calling you a fat cow. Dieter puts these false rumors to rest once and for all with a funny live Instagram talk.

Note: For the text messages: bold with italic text is from Dieter, just italic text is from you, and bold and red colored text is from his agent, Kat.

A/N:  We all saw the photo that is making a lot of us feral with that kiss.  I wanted to have a funny little story that went with this.  For some reason, this screams Dieter at me in my mind.  

A huge thanks to my good friend from CAImages on Instagram for pulling this photo together at the last minute for me.  Enjoy :) 

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Warnings | 18+, language

References to body image issues for F!reader (no descriptions except that she is curvy), reference to a cast made of Dieter’s crotch, mentions of previous phone sex (but no details given besides that), Dieter being Dieter.

Word Count: 3.4K

You guys are too nice saying I’m sexy.  Who knew that the belly was sexy, huh? But you know what, you all want to fuck me and the belly, but yet none of you can say one nice fucking thing to my pretty little girlfriend.  I’ve spent all morning reading everyone’s comments online, saying how she isn’t attractive because she has curves. Fuck. You know I love those curves; they feel so good. I love making love to the woman who has those sexy curves.  So, if I’m sexy with this belly, then she can be sexy with her curves too, you know.”

When you pulled up the app to read your morning digital copy of the newspaper, the image popped up on your home screen.  The headline read, “Dieter ends long-term relationship with girlfriend for another woman.”  You usually never cared about those articles, especially when your longtime boyfriend of 5 years was working on a movie set.  You knew that Dieter was in the process of filming a romantic love comedy, and you knew there were kissing scenes.  But this headline piqued your interest, so you clicked on it to read further.

“Sources say that these two co-stars had connected during the filming of the latest romantic movie, titled “I Want You, which stars Dieter, as a lawyer who just moved to New York City and found love with the daughter of the man he is trying to put in jail. People have spotted these two co-stars snuggling up together and having private moments late into the night after filming has wrapped. Recently, reporters caught a private moment of these two as Dieter’s co-star walked him to his car after a long day of filming. Before leaving, reporters captured a long and tender kiss that co-star Amy had given Dieter before he left.  Hollywood wonders if this is it for Dieter and his long-time girlfriend. Sources closest to Dieter say that his current relationship with his girlfriend is over with and that he is moving on, citing the reason for the split was infidelity accusations, among other things.” 

You had to laugh at the tabloid article, considering that last night, you had some of the best phone sex with your boyfriend.  You were moaning his name as you fucked yourself with a dildo that he bought you before he left to go and film this movie.  It was a cast of his hardened cock, a present for his pretty little girlfriend who missed her man dearly on these long movie shooting times when he was away from home.

Pulling up your phone's message app, you sent your boyfriend a copy of the article and some accompanying sass.

Dieter had been lying in bed, dozing on and off this morning.  He had a late call back last night and had to shoot some nighttime scenes.  So after his long day and some nice phone sex with his pretty little girlfriend, he had to go back to work and shoot for another 3 hours.  Yesterday was a 15-hour workday, and he was exhausted.  The studio gave him a day off, saying he could rest up as the following scenes didn’t involve him. 

When Dieter heard the ding of his message app, and then another one, he figured he needed to check to make sure it wasn’t the studio telling him that they had changed their mind and that he’d still have to come in today.  When he pulled up his messages, he saw two were from you.  He stretched and sat up in bed, grabbing his glasses off the nightstand and placing them on his face so he could read what you sent.

So apparently, according to the tabloids, you are cheating on me, and our relationship is over.  By the way, it was a lovely kiss. I'm somewhat jealous that those lips on you weren’t mine.

“What the?” Dieter mumbled to himself at your message.  He clicked the link to the article and saw the picture of the kiss, of a moment playing out during a scene.  It wasn’t unheard of for paparazzi to snap photos of scenes filmed outside, especially along the roadway like yesterday. He glanced down the page and saw the quick article about the photo. As he read through the article, he cursed under his breath at the fact that the tabloids would print something so false.  He quickly typed out a reply to you and then got up and headed to the bathroom to take a piss. He needed to call his new publicist and give him a piece of his mind. He was paying good money to ensure articles like this would not appear in Hollywood, and if they did, he’d know about it ahead of time. So why did this get through without his knowledge? It blew his mind and angered him immensely.

You were slowly sipping your morning coffee, waiting to see what your boyfriend had to say. When you heard the ding of your message app, followed by a few more, you knew he had thoroughly read it.

Jesus

How do people even come up with this shit?

I need to fire my publicist.

No, you don’t need to fire your new publicist.

Are the allegations true?

What?  NO! 

Absolutely not, baby!

I'm just checking because, you know, apparently, infidelity accusations have happened, and I’m not giving you everything you need or something.

Another article cites that I have more curves, and that’s why you did it because I’m not skinny.

Stop! 

That’s not true, and you fucking know it.

I love your curves, baby, and I love you.

It’s just assholes thinking that they know what’s going on but don’t.

Yeah, well, I guess.

You guess? What the fuck do you mean, you guess?

Baby, that was a scene from the movie I’m shooting, a scene.

Not. The. Real. Thing

Ok, if you say so.

What, what the hell- look, I’m not even relaxed like when I kiss you.

Plus, my tongue ain’t even down her fucking throat like it is with you, baby.

I know; it’s just a lot right now. And everyone keeps asking me if the rumors are true. 

Fuck. The longer that Dieter looked online, the more he saw that it was a fucking nightmare.  People accused him of kissing his co-star, Amy, on his off times. One article even claimed that someone saw him fucking her in the ally, which was not even true.  He had to make them stop, not because they were true.  None of them were.  It was just a photo from a movie shoot that he was doing and nothing else.  His co-star was not his type; she was not someone he found attractive in the way he found you attractive.  Sure, Amy was pretty, and she had a beautiful personality, but she was not someone he’d want to be balls deep in, fucking her against the wall like he loved to do with you.  

He was glancing at all the articles, and then he came across one in particular, one that referred to you as a “fat cow,” and that was when he had enough.  He immediately dialed his publicist and gave that son of a bitch a piece of his mind.

Five minutes later, Dieter swore at his publicist, telling him this should never have happened.

“Sam, I don’t give a fuck. I am paying you to stop this shit from happening. Really? Did you stop it? I don’t think you did because I’m looking at an article right now that is referring to my girlfriend as a fat cow.  You better hope she doesn’t read this. Yeah, or you’re fired.”

But as soon as he said it, he heard the ding of a message. His heart sank when he glanced at it, tuning out his publicist's apologizing momentarily and assuring him that everything was fine.  

I can’t come down next week for that event thing anymore. Some stuff, uh, some stuff came up.

Dieter quickly texted you back, hoping that the reason the plans had changed had nothing to do with what you had seen online. 

OK, that’s fine if you don’t want to. Can I ask why there was a sudden change of heart?

I just don’t think me being in a bikini, helping kids, is the best message you want to send people.

Fuck. You must have seen the article.

Baby, why wouldn’t it be the best image?

Come on, honey, talk to me. What’s bothering you?

Nothing is bothering me; it’s just I’m overweight, and I don’t think walking around with a one-piece swimsuit and asking people to help make donations for homeless children is proper.

Baby, how is it not proper? You love that kind of stuff.

It just isn’t okay.  Plus, no one wants to see a fat cow walk around in a bathing suit.  I mean, how can people even print that?  I know I’m a little overweight, but I’m not that much overweight, I think.

Fuck, you did read that article, and it broke his heart to know this.

Look, I just don’t want to do it, ok.

Plus, you could do so much better than me, anyway.

I mean, look at her; she’s beautiful and sexy. What am I?

I’m not attractive, that’s what.  Why did you even ask me out in the first place?

I know cause I was skinny.

Okay, maybe I'm not skinny, but I wasn’t fat.

Okay, yeah, I was fat, but.

One text after another kept coming in as you derailed your self-esteem because of two dumb photos of him kissing his co-star during the middle of a scene for shooting a movie.  

Sam was still talking on the phone, but Dieter was no longer paying attention. He was more concerned about what his pretty little girlfriend was thinking. Dieter was with you because you made him laugh, and you were the love of his life. He had to make this right for you.

“Sam, I’m going to stop you right there. I’ll make this simple for you. You’re fucking fired.”  Dieter then hung up the phone and immediately texted his agent, a woman that scared the living shit out of him because she never took any shit from anyone in the world. Dieter doesn’t remember what her real name is; he’s always called her Kat because she’d claw his eyes out more than once if she had the chance with all of the shit he used to pull before meeting you.

Kat, I fired Sam, he’s a fucking idiot anyways. Please tell me you can stop this fucking shitstorm online. 

For once, remember that I DID NOTHING to start this one.

Kat had gotten back to him almost immediately, helping in the best way that Kat knew how to, taking control of the situation.

Well, Dieter, that didn’t take you long, did it? Just for the record, I fired him this morning before you called him. You were right; he was an idiot. 

I’m already taking care of the shitstorm in the media; the director is fucking furious at the accusations that came forward and is setting the record straight.  I’ll also have the production company make an official statement.

What about the article that called her a fat cow, what about that?

Seriously? Did they- oh, for fucks sake, I’ll take care of it.  I know the editor. I’ll just call him up and threaten to beat the shit out of him for publishing something like that.

Really? You’re going to beat the shit out of someone that isn’t me? Wow, talk about going soft.

Oh, don’t start, Dieter. I can still kick your ass, too.  And I may do it yet today.

But don’t worry, I’ll take care of it, but you’ll have to do damage control on the backside.   

Me? How the hell am I supposed to do that?

It’s called doing damage control with your girlfriend, Dieter. 

I’m sorry for her. No woman or person deserves that horrible humiliation. Take care of her; she’s going to need some reassurance.

Dieter looked at Kat’s last message and couldn’t agree more.  But he didn’t know what he could do to help calm your nerves. As he sat there thinking, he devised an idea that he thought would work. It should take some heat off you and even the playing field.

Dieter pulled his phone out, clicked on the Instagram app, then hit the live button.

You had been drowning in your mind at all the negative comments about your weight, about how people couldn’t believe someone like Dieter would ever be with you, etc. You had spent all morning immersing yourself in these articles and comments, working yourself up into a horrible frenzy of anxiousness and despair.  

You were curled up on the couch, attempting to watch your favorite TV program, missing Dieter, when you heard the ding at the live notification of your Instagram.  The only person you followed like that was Dieter, so you were surprised that he was going live, especially on a day like today.  You quickly pulled out your phone and hit the notification so you could watch and see what was happening.  Dieter already had over 5,000 people watching. So you knew you could hide and not say anything just to see what was happening.

“Hi, it’s me, Dieter…right. Listen. I’m sorry, I’m trying not to care, but it’s hard. It’s hard to see negative comments about the person I love, people calling her unattractive because she doesn’t have a flat stomach like my co-star does.  But you know what, I don’t have a flat stomach either.”

Dieter then stood up, removed his T-shirt and sweatpants, and sat in his boxers, his belly slightly hanging over them.

“So, do you guys want to have sex with me like this?”

After Dieter watched the notifications in the chat coming in of Yes in one way or another, he knew he had the audience right where he wanted them.

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, and wow. You guys are too nice saying I’m sexy.  Who knew that the belly was sexy, huh? But you know what, you all want to fuck me and the belly, but yet none of you can say one nice fucking thing to my pretty little girlfriend.  I’ve spent all morning reading everyone’s comments online, saying how she isn’t attractive because she has curves. Fuck. You know I love those curves; they feel so good. I love making love to the woman who has those sexy curves.  So, if I’m sexy with this belly, then she can be sexy with her curves too, you know.”

“I eat a KitKat every day, either from my mini bar or home. And then, in the morning, there’s always a new KitKat cause my girl knows I love them. And you know what, you don’t know me.  Nobody knows me, the real me, and that’s okay. But my girl, she does; she knows me for the real me, not the Hollywood me.  Like, after we have sex, I always ask her, ‘How do I know in the morning you’re not gonna sell the stuff I unloaded in you to the sperm bank?’ I think about stuff like that when I’m with her, and I tell her.”

“We also have conversations like what happens if your shit, like your literal shit, was alive. That scares me sometimes late at night, and I talk with my girlfriend about it. I go, ‘So, you know when I shit, I don’t watch myself shit. You should never watch yourself shit.  You should just wipe, flush, and then move on.’ We have conversations like that. And then when I have diarrhea and vomiting from food poisoning, I yell for her to hold my hair back because I don’t want the chance of getting vomit in my hair, even if it’s short.”

As you sat back, you watched your boyfriend talk crazy, like you do sometimes late at night. You knew that Dieter never said these things out loud except with you. You didn’t judge him, but the world isn’t always easy on everyone.

“Why do I say these crazy things? Well, if you’re going to judge the most beautiful woman in the world, and she IS the most beautiful woman to me, then you’ll see who I am without the mask of fame. She sees me for the real me and loves me for it. So, if you still love me and all of this crazy shit I do in life, then love her too, cause if you don’t, I won’t be making movies any longer.  I never want to read statements of me cheating on a woman that I’ve had to pinch myself every day in the balls to make sure that I’m not dreaming.  She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and if you guys can’t realize that, then I’m done making movies.  So yeah, goodbye, I guess, until you all fix this issue and stop shaming women or men who don’t fit a perfect image. And stop writing false stories, or this will be the last story you all write of me because I sure as hell won't keep fucking going if all I read are lies about me anymore. I love you all, but seriously, goodbye until you straighten out.”

You then heard him fart on camera and then ended the live right after that. You sat there with tears at how he publicly defended you, even though you never asked him to.  You quickly called him up to thank him.

“You know you didn’t have to say anything, D.”

“I know, but I did. I also thought that I saw you online watching.”  Dieter’s voice echoed like he was in a cave or a large room.

“Where are you? Your voice is echoing.”

“Bathroom,” was all he said, and then you heard it, a fart that echoed.

“Dieter, what-”

“Look, I haven’t taken my morning shit yet, babe.  I’ve had to deal with all this bullshit first, and I can’t hold it anymore, so yeah.”

“It's okay, D, you know I love you. Look, I'll let you go and-”

“No, babe, talk to me. I have nothing else I'm doing while sitting here. You feel a little better?”

“Yeah, a little bit. I mean, you didn't have to say those things about quitting and potentially fuck up your career.”

“Baby, I didn't fuck up my career. And even if I did, I don't care. I love you, and your happiness is just as important to me, if not more, than my career. I care about you, and I’m pissed off that people would say those horrible things about you, the most beautiful woman in my life. My pretty little girlfriend, I love you.”

The two of you talked for an hour until the production company called. They told Dieter that they were postponing shooting more scenes for a few more days until they could figure out the logistics of keeping privacy for more intimate shoots in the future. 

That was fine because it allowed Dieter to fly home to you for a few days. All was peaceful until Dieter got a message from the production company a few days later stating that scenes would begin shooting again next week. As Dieter was packing back up to leave, he received a message from his agent, Kat.

Dieter, you jackass, that’s not what I meant by damage control. You know what, fine, do it your way.  But don’t cry when the little stunt you pulled online results in you getting fired or not being offered any more movie roles.  

Dieter knew that Kat was blowing steam because he had received three tentative movie offers for comedic roles since his online speech.  When he asked Kat what she thought, she was honest with him.

Dieter, you know you can just go fuck yourself, right?

And for what it’s worth, I’m happy you made your girlfriend feel better. You really are a great guy.

To HER, that is.  Now start making my job a little easier, not harder, or so help me, God, I’ll rip your head clean off.  And I'm not talking about the one on the top of your neck. Lord knows you don't need that head anymore cause you don’t ever think with it. I'm talking about the other one.

Dieter laughed hard and knew Kat’s threats were just that, threats.  She has saved his ass more times than he cared to admit.  Yes, this stunt he pulled could have been a huge problem, but he didn’t care.  He’s weathered those harsh storms of his career in the past.  That’s why he paid Kat the big bucks, to help him get out of those shit storms.  But this stunt was for you, to get the negative attention off you. And to make you laugh more, which is what he did in the end.  The only thing that mattered to Dieter was that his pretty little girlfriend was safe, warm, and happy.  Everything in Hollywood was always so fake, except for you and the love that Dieter had for you, that wasn't fake. Dieter loved you more than anything: real, soulmate-type, passionate love. And to him, that was the only story ever worth writing about. 

#dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo #dieter x reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo smut #the bubble fanfiction #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x ofc #tlou #dieter bravo fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal stories #pedrostories #pedro pascal masterlist #pedro pascal fic #the materialists

[ingravinoveritas]

Did you see this picture yet? The first thing I realized was Michael's hand on David's back and their lovely smiles.

Hello! Yes, I did certainly see this group picture that was posted this morning, after every other picture had been posted. This is from Georgia's Insta, so for those who haven't seen the original post, here is a screenshot, along with a close-up of Michael and David, so we can see a little better:

It seems that Georgia's hashtag has been causing some confusion due to her use of an idiomatic expression, so for non-native speakers, the word "tits" has multiple meanings--colloquially, it's another word for breasts, but in British slang, a "tit" also refers to someone who is a fool or an idiot. So Georgia is saying here that she has tits, Anna has tits, and Michael and David are a pair of "tits" (idiots), which gives us the number three.

I did notice and enjoy that there is a "beading" theme to this picture, between David's suit and Anna's dress. I actually very much like her dress and how flattering it is, and it's something I would wear myself, although probably in a different color than white. I also love the way David's jacket sparkles, and there is something about him wearing it while standing next to Michael (who looks one box of bleach away from Aziraphale) that makes it have even more of a "the angel and the Starmaker" vibe to it. Because it's them. You know?

That was a large part of the impression I had of this picture, as it were. Of there being two distinct couples here, but perhaps not the couples you'd assume. It actually reminds me a lot of the picture that the four of them took in Lapland last year, which also looked like two gay couples rather than two straight ones. They all seem to look very comfortable in this arrangement as well, in a way that I felt was somewhat absent from a few of the pictures that were posted yesterday.

To your point, though, I did notice Michael's hand on David, and the warmth that radiated out just from that single touch. His hand is also noticeably low on David's waist, which echoes how we've seen Michael with his arm around David in the past, and is a lovely complement to David's hand being near Michael's neck. Michael's hair is also a bit disheveled compared to the red carpet photos, and I love the idea of it being messed up from a snogging session he and David were having in a coat closet before the girls pulled them out for a pic. Actually possible? Maybe, maybe not. But it's still a delicious thought.

Another thing I noticed is that there is something to the way Michael and David draw the eye in this picture. Georgia and AL are posing/smiling in the same exact way they do in every group picture...although unlike the others, this one wasn't a selfie, and so I wonder if that could be why they seem to be giving off a sense of discomfort to the camera. With Michael and David, the feeling is more one of hesitation. The warmth and crackliness and connection is still there, of course, but it's also almost as if they're holding back, somehow. Which doesn't seem very much like them, at least from what we've all see over the years.

It is a nice picture overall, though, which makes it unfortunate that Georgia's caption sort of takes away from the moment a bit. And given that she's been in the habit of adding these types of cutting comments/tags to a lot of her recent posts, it feels less like "British humor" and more like knowingly taking a dig at Michael and David. She could have just as easily posted the group pic without the hashtag, so at least for me, that's what makes her using it feel so deliberate.

So those are my thoughts on the Oliviers group picture. I am glad that we actually did get one of Michael and David, and to know that they did have the chance to interact at the event. I'd love to hear what other folks think as well, so feel free to add your perspective in the comments. Thanks for writing in! x

#analumina #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #georgia tennant #olivier awards #it's also interesting that Michael feels like the buffer between one side of this picture and the other #to where it doesn't feel like a group picture but two pictures taken separately #and if you can't see the difference between AL/Georgia and Michael/David at this point #i don't even know what to tell you #choices #not all of them good #but i will leave it to my followers to make up their own minds #anna lundberg #relationships #ineffable lovers #discourse

[hush-writes-preg]

Spooky Season Day #26

Summary: [AFAB masculine reader] You've got a thing for casual sex and vampire bites. And you've just found a vamp who really likes your heavily pregnant belly.

Wordcount: 1,889

Themes: Vampire sex, casual sex, lactation, mention of blood (it's a vampire)

Fangs and Guns.

What a weird name for a dating app. Well, to be perfectly honest, it wasn't a dating app-- it was a vampire-specific hookup app, meant to connect bloodsuckers and humans for sex and consensual feedings. But it had a good number of people on it, and you'd used it quite a bit over the past couple of years, because you sort of had a thing for being nibbled on.

Only this time, you'd agreed to meet up with a vamp while carrying a human hookup's 'little accident'.

Oh, he knew you were pregnant, and nearing your due date to boot. You kept your profile updated so there'd be no questions when you showed up for a good time hauling a large, heavy belly. On the one hand, it seemed to narrow down your choice of fuckbuddies, but on the other, those that swiped right usually turned out to be very enthusiastic about your condition.

The vampire you'd agreed to meet tonight was no exception. You'd been messaging back and forth for a few days, and while there'd been plenty of the usual talk of blood types and STI testing, he also hadn't been shy about asking for pictures of your swollen gut. 

At least your pregnancy was good for something.

You arrived at the hotel and waited nervously in the dimly lit parking lot, rubbing the side of your stomach where the baby was kicking and stretching.

"Hello there," came a deep, slightly accented voice that almost made you jump. "You look even more magnificent than your photos."

He was tall and well-dressed, wearing an expensive-looking suit that flattered his figure. His eyes caught the faint light in an odd, inhuman sort of way, though otherwise they looked entirely human. You could tell he was built from the way he held himself, and you were already eager to see him naked.

"Thank you," you said. "You're not bad-looking yourself. I'd offer you a hug, but..." You patted the side of your bump and grinned.

"I wouldn't dream of making you strain yourself," he replied with dry amusement, a hint of fang peeking between his lips. "Shall we?"

You let him lead the way inside, allowing him to open the door and guide you down the hallway to the room he'd already booked. Thankfully, nobody gave you a second glance despite your pronounced waddle.

He'd asked to be called Lucien, and you didn't question it. It didn't really matter if that was his real name.

Once you were alone together, he wasted no time. He immediately reached out to touch you, cupping your bearded face and then sliding his hands down your chest. You'd never had much in the way of a chest until after you'd gotten knocked up, but now it was bloated and puffy, filling with milk for the kid doing summersaults in your stomach. Lucien's cool fingers fondled the tender flesh and teased a few drops of milk from your nipples to soak into the fabric of your t-shirt, smiling with amusement as the wet patches began to grow. 

"Milking's extra," you chuckled, only half joking. "I'm more interested in getting to the good stuff."

Your vampire laughed, giving your chest one last pat before dropping his hands down to the hem of your shirt. "Then let's get you comfortable," he said, tugging it up over the dome of your belly. 

You lifted your arms and let him pull it off over your head, gasping as the chilly air hit your skin and sent a shiver down your spine. Your pregnant abdomen was almost impossibly round, decorated with reddened stretch marks and faint curls that thickened down around your protruding navel. You weren't terribly fond of the look, but you knew some guys found it super hot.

Lucien's hands were there in an instant, stroking reverently over the tight skin. "Gorgeous," he murmured. "So full of life. I almost can't believe there isn't someone out there who wants to lay claim to you-- and this." The vampire's long fingers were bold as they drifted lower, cupping you through your jeans and giving you a squeeze. "But then I wouldn't have the opportunity for a taste, would I?"

"That's right," you answered, biting your lip at the touch. "I'm all yours tonight, and the baby isn't due for another couple of weeks, so do all the tasting you want."

His eyes seemed to flash red for a moment, and his lips parted, showing off those wicked fangs. They looked sharp enough to cut, and the idea of him sinking them into your neck was a thrill that sent a shiver of anticipation through your body.

Lucien stepped closer, his breath a cool breeze against your bare shoulder. "I can smell the blood coursing through your veins," he said, the words barely above a whisper. "Can hear your heart beating fast and hard in your chest. You're excited, aren't you?"

Fuck. You could feel your core clench in anticipation, liquid heat surging forth to dampen your boxers, while the child in your womb gave a particularly robust kick. "Do you even have to ask?"

His smile grew predatory as he moved even closer. His body was firm and solid against you, and you could feel the bulge of his arousal pressing into your side.

"I just like to hear you say it," Lucien answered. His hand slid down the side of your bump and into the front of your pants. His graceful fingers quickly found their way beneath your underwear and between the slick lips of your sex.

"Ahh, fuck," you gasped. His fingers were cooler than your skin, and you could feel yourself flutter and twitch as he slowly stroked through your wetness.

"Tell me how badly you want me," he said, his lips brushing against your ear. "Do you want me to suck your blood while I fuck you?"

"Yes," you moaned. You felt so good already, the pleasure rolling through you as his fingers dipped inside and curled against your inner walls, and you wanted more. "Fuck me. Bite me. Drink my blood."

He chuckled, and the sound vibrated through you, making you shudder. "I love a meal with a little spice."

"I'll give you spice," you groaned. Your belly was so tight and heavy, and you could feel your pulse pounding in your throat. You were desperate for release. "C'mon. Please. Don’t make me wait."

The vampire chuckled and slipped his fingers free, making you groan at the loss. But he was already unbuckling his belt, his cock hard and already standing proud as he pushed his pants and underwear down and kicked them off. "Turn around and put your hands on the mattress," he instructed. "Legs spread wide."

You hurried to obey, leaning forward with your legs spread as wide as you could get them with the baby weighing you down.

"Perfect."

The next thing you knew, his hand was on the small of your back, gently pressing you further forward and tilting your hips up.

"Just like that."

And then he was inside, his cock a smooth, thick shaft as it slid into your hole. He moved slowly at first, letting you feel every inch of him as he pushed in, filling you up and making you moan.

"Fuck," you gasped, your fingers clenching in the bedsheets.

"That's right," he crooned, his hand stroking over the curve of your spine. "Take it all."

He bottomed out, his pelvis flush with your ass, and his hand slipped down to caress the side of your bump. You could feel the baby squirming and kicking, and the sensation made your hole squeeze around the cock inside you.

"Damn," he gasped, his voice breathy. "That's right. Milk my cock, human. The pleasure makes you that much sweeter."

You moaned, the sound long and low, as he began to move. He pulled out almost entirely and then slammed back in, rocking your whole body. Then again, and again, faster and harder each time, no-nonsense and just like you wanted. Just like you've been craving with every fiber of your being.

The whole bed rocked with his thrusts, and your hands clamped tight on the edge of the mattress to hold yourself in place.

"Harder," you moaned, the word almost slurred. "I'm not made of glass!"

He growled, the animalistic sound reverberating through his chest and into your body, and his hips snapped forward. The force of the thrust made your toes curl, and a sharp jolt of pleasure-pain shot through you.

It was almost too much. Almost perfect.

"Fuck," you choked out, driving back to meet him despite the discomfort. "You're-- you're gonna break my water!"

Your voice was nearly a shout, but he didn't stop, instead using a fraction of his inhuman strength to pound into you. God, it was brutal, but it wasn't more than you could handle. 

You hoped.

"I'm gonna... I'm gonna...!"

You were close, so fucking close, and you could feel your orgasm building. The baby was moving too, kicking and pushing at the inside of your stretched belly, riled up by the bumpy ride.

"Give it to me," Lucien said, his voice rough and ragged. "I want to feel you come on my cock."

"Oh, god," you moaned, the words drawing out into a pleasured howl as the pressure inside you suddenly burst. 

You came hard, your sex spasming around the thick length inside you. Your body shuddered with the force of it, your belly swinging heavily beneath you while its passenger squirmed, adding to the intensity of the moment.

"Fuck," Lucien hissed, his fingers digging into your hips.

His thrusts were fast and deep, and you could feel him throbbing within you. He was close, and the knowledge sent a fresh wave of arousal through your oversensitive body.

"That's it," you moaned, rocking back against him. "Come for me, vampire. Come inside me."

Lucien's thrusts stuttered, and you could feel his cock swell and twitch as he spilled into you. He let out a low groan, his hips pumping erratically as he filled you up.

So close. Almost there. Almost there!

"Fuck," he hissed, the word drawn out and punctuated by the sharp bite of his fangs as he finally sank them into your neck.

YES.

You cried out, the sting of his bite mixing with the pleasure of your orgasm. The vamp saliva turned to pure bliss in your veins, its unique makeup liquid ecstasy for humans, and you gladly let the feeling wash over you. This was what you'd needed; this was exactly what you'd been missing all these months, ever since your abdomen had begun to swell.

It was glorious, and you let him feed from you while you rode the high, until your muscles finally went lax, leaving you panting and limp.

"There we go," Lucien said as he finished, his tongue lapping over the wounds to close them. "Now, isn't that better?"

"Yeah," you breathed, reaching down to rest a hand on your bump. It felt like the kid had finally calmed down. "So much better."

You could feel the vampire smile against your neck. "Good," he said, slowly pulling out. "Because I'm not nearly finished with you yet."

You shuddered, anticipation thrumming through you.

It was going to be a good night.

(A Spooky Season story.)

Tip Jar ✨ My Pregnancy Writing ✨ Commissions

#hush writes preg #spooky season pregnancy #vampire sex #pregnancy kink #monster fucking #monsterfucker #ftm pregnancy #nb pregnancy #monster kink

[joshleyson]

THIS IS: SIARGAO ✨

December film dump 🎞️

Growing up in Mindanao for almost 2 decades and never actually being able to traverse the picturesque landscapes in the eastern part of the island is something that I know I have to break before the year ends. So I did.

I flew from Manila to Cebu so early in the morning to catch a connecting flight to Siargao by noon. Traveling to Siargao was a lot of firsts for me. Not having to go to every detail but when the plane was about to take off to Siargao, we were all offloaded due to the bad weather on the island. Fortunately, instead of having to fly back to Manila, the airline was kind enough to take me to a nearby hotel in Cebu, all expenses paid including food, transportation, and next-day ticket. It was an unexpected staycation which surprisingly I enjoyed.

Coming from a very tiring day at work and then going to the airport, I felt like I really needed this quiet time, and I was able to check in to this lavish hotel all by myself while waiting for my flight the next day. Also, I had a great night as well in Cebu catching up with one of my long-time friends and her beaux. I went back to my hotel around 3 in the morning because there’s just so many things to catch up and I really missed my homie so much. Keyword: low-maintenance friendships.

So the day finally came, and I was able to land safely on the island of Siargao. Right off the bat on my first night, I had a lovely dinner with my travel friends slash buddies at work and we went to a bar, and danced the night away which to me serves as a prelude to the great experience this vibrant community had in stored for me as a Mindanaoan that have never set foot beyond the confines of Zamboanga and western Mindanao.

We spent our days being on the road which to me was such a release. Being able to smell the fresh ocean breeze while blasting our favorite Y2K songs in the car and relying on Waze or Google Maps for our next destination, to me, makes the trip so much fun because of the spontaneity and unpredictability that it brings. We went island hopping, danced in the boat, swam on open waters, ate our hearts out, moved from one accommodation to another, and I tried surfing for the first time! I never thought I would enjoy the experience because it was raining lightly at that time and the waves were so big it could easily engulf me, but man, best day ever!!!! I fell on the surfing board and slammed my body on the rushing waves several times but being able to stand on the surfboard for the first time was such a liberating experience. A little bit of a stretch, but it was and I will try it again once I go back to Siargao.

☾

I flew back to Cebu and then to Manila to catch one of my friend’s wedding and luckily I made it with no delay. Looking at the pictures that I got to develop from a Fuji film camera that I brought with me on the island, I am reminded again of the incredible healing power of what it’s like to try new things, be with nature, and just breathe. Knowing that the year is about to end in a couple of weeks, I felt so blessed to have that opportunity to break the complicated rhythm of corporate life and to disconnect for a moment. 

After 3 weeks, I get to fly back to Boracay to celebrate New Year’s Eve. So many epic moments that I am also grateful for which I may save for the future but nevertheless, my last month of 2023 was such a banger and I hope it always feels that way.

By the way, I’m writing all these on my iPhone because I’m too tired to get up and open my MacBook, so I appreciate you for hanging with me this far. So that’s it for 2023!

Simply put, I just want to say Happy Holidays to you and your loved ones, and may 2024 be as effervescent as your hopes and dreams for the future.

J.

(December, 2023)

(Photos were shot using Fujifilm Simpleace 35 mm camera + iPhone 15 Pro Max)

FOLLOW ME: Instagram/TikTok/Twitter: joshleyson

(Music by Grammy nominee, Victoria Monét. All rights belong to her and her publishers. For personal and non-commercial use only. Stream her great catalogue on Spotify and Apple Music.)

#photography #travels #travel #philippines #wanderlust #film #analog #polaroid #music #summer #Siargao #Siargao Island #Reels #BiyahePH #tiktok #fyp #35 mm #taylor swift #victoria monet #beach #surfing

[seulszn]

Can you do the “24 Hours with” and “beauty secret” thing they do with Vogue but with Y/N and Bella Ramsey. idk why it sounds better in my head. 😭

24 Hours with Y/N and Bella Ramsey | Vogue

Pairing: Bella Ramsey x fem reader

Sypnosis: you and Bella do the 24 hours vlog for vogue

Warnings: N/A

No this is actually a really good idea honestly I will totally LOVE to do the makeup one with Bella I’m gonna have to brainstorm some things tho 😭 also I hope you enjoy this little fic. (This is my first time writing for Bella so give me feedback please 🙏🏾)

“Good morning Vogue Bella Ramsey here with my lovely sleepy girlfriend and this is our 24 hour vlog.” They say leaning on you and stuffing the camera into your face.

“Leave me alone Bella I’m tired” you said pulling the covers up to your face and turning away from them. They only snickers before getting up and walking into the bathroom that is connected to her master bedroom. “It is currently 4 o’clock in the morning and we are in my hometown of Nottingham England.” They say talking into the camera. Bella was so excited about this vlog that they didn’t exactly know if you felt the same way. You came to England with Bella for a little vacation away from home and they had so much stuff planned for you to do.

“Y/N usually wakes up really late but I just won’t allow it this time” He adds as you shuffle into the bathroom with the blanket wrapped around your cold body “it’s too cold Bels” you groan looking at him sitting on a small stool, leaning on her she wraps his hands around your waist. “I’m sorry dear” he whispers before turning their attention back on the camera. “we have a long day today of photo shoots, clothes fittings, etc” they say as you turn to face the camera. “I wanted to stay in for real but he insisted” you say into the camera as Bella rubs your back.

“But why? We should spend as much time with each other as we can before you go back home!” They say looking at you. The thing is you didn’t plan on leaving, you didn’t plan on it you wanted to stay with Bella but you have no clue if she wanted the same. With a small smile on your face you kiss her forehead before getting up. “Fine as long as we can stop by a bakery to pick up some pastries then we are good” you add walking out of the bathroom and over to where you put your suitcases.

“Anything for you dear”

You and Bella have been dating for a little over a year you two met through the show you guys were working on “The Last Of Us” playing as a couple in the show wasn’t easy but it got better as you guys got to know each other. One of the things that was annoying about being a couple was paparazzi they were everywhere they harassed the two of you guys before you guys were a actual oficial “Couple”. But hey that’s what being famous is all about

“Me and Y/N always wear matching outfits when we can” Bella says talking into the camera as you fix your fishnets “the vibe today is cozy yet cute” they say placing the camera down on their vanity table and grabbing a jewelry box from out of a drawer. “Oh look at what Y/N made me for my rings” they say showing the camera a jewelry box you made for him “ain’t it cute?” They add giggling before opening the box and removing the rings they wanna wear. You walk over before stopping behind Bella. “Bels how is my outfit?” You ask trying to get his opinion on a fit you feel is a little to much. He turns around before smiling “You look cute” he squeals grabbing ahold of your hands. You smile at him “are you ready?” You ask as he nods his head.

——

“What kind of pastries do they have?” You ask as you and look at the glass with weird looking dishes “uhh a lot” they say scratching the back of their head trying to think of what to get. “I know that silly I’m asking what is good” you giggle as Bella smiles at you. “Get the scone it’s a all time favorite here” they say before pointing at a pastry with blueberries on it. You nod your head before turning to the cashier “yea I’ll get that” you say as the man nods his head and placing it into a small little oven to heat it up “what are you getting?” You ask Bella as she points to a chocolate croissant. “Well here you two lovebirds go” the cashier says handing you guys the pastries with a smile you had him some money before he stops you “please it’s on me, I’m a huge fan of you” he says as you smile.

“No please I can’t just take it” you say as he shakes his head walking off you turn to Bella as he’s stuffing his face “come on Y/N” she says as you shake your head no not wanting to leave without paying so you just place the amount on the counter as you walk off Bella just stares at you before following after you.

“Is it good” you ask Bella as she nods her head as he pushes it towards your face making you try it “it’s alright I don’t like dark chocolate” you say with a smile as Bella rolls her eyes and whispers something under her breath. Pulling the camera from out of her bag she opens it before recording. “So right now we are on the way to the studio to take pictures to promote the last of us, then after we have to get fitting for some award shows, and then after that it’s dinner with Pedro” they say discussing the day you guys have.

“Dinner with Pedro? Hmm this will be interesting.” You say as Bella laughs at you. Pedro was you two’s biggest supporters he knew that day you and Bella met each other a spark would happen he was your dad’s best friend and ever since he died he has kind of been a little bit overprotective of you he didn’t want anything bad to happen to you but he’s learned to back off a little bit now since you and Bella got together cause he feels like you would be safe in his arms.

“Y/N get comfortable please your so tense.” Your outfit designer Naomi says placing the finishing touches onto your outfit for your photo shoot. “Sorry just a lot going on” you say bitting your nails before a stress ball was placed into your hand “what happened? Fill me in? Was it Bella? DON’T TELL ME YOU GUYS BROKE UP!” Your best friend Sabrina who is also your manager yells gripping your arm.

“What- no we didn’t break up it’s just i don’t know I’m suppose to go back home soon and I don’t want to” you says as Sabrina nods her head scrolling though her phone “I’m guessing you don’t wanna leave her here is that correct?” You nod your head as Naomi groans leaning her head on you in disappointment. “Y/N if you love him why is this even a thing to be stressed about” she adds before poking you accidentally. You yelp before shrugging your shoulders “I mean Bella deserves her personal space and I don’t wanna invade that because I don’t wanna be alone” you stated as the room goes silent. You look over at Sabrina, and Naomi side eyeing you.

“What?”

“Y/N are you hearing yourself?” Sabrina says as you don’t say anything just stare “have you even told Bella how you felt? About moving in with her?” Naomi ask as you space out before shaking your head as Sabrina groans and Naomi face palms herself. “What! I was thinking about telling her…one day hopefully” you say mumbling the last few parts in hope that they didn’t hear you. “Aren’t you guys going out to dinner?” You nod your head as Sabrina claps her hands with a smile on her face. “Good why not ask her then?” She says as you shrug your shoulders once again “I don’t know I don’t-” “Oh My Gosh Y/N stop making up excuses just this once” Naomi says before backing up to look at your outfit.

“You look beautiful dear” Bella says before looking at the camera posing, you smile at the before looking at him “Bella I need to talk to you about something later tonight” you offer as Bella nods her head with a smile on their face. “Sure dear how about at dinner tonight” they offer as you nod your head before turning your attention back onto the camera.

——

“Here we are at a five star restaurant with Mr. Pedro Pascal” your girlfriend says introducing the guest at the table he waves to the camera with a smile on his face. He takes the camera out of Bella’s hand before speaking into it. “What is this for?” He ask looking over at Bella who is looking at a menu. “It’s for vogue” he answers as Pedro nods his head before talking to the camera. You smile at him before pointing at something on the menu “they have Tofu Bella” you say as Bella’s face changes she smiles at you “They have a whole Vegan category right here” you point once again as she squeals.

“Do you know how hard it is to find vegan stuff at restaurants?” Bella answers as you smile at how cute they are. “Oh what would I do without you? Your always looking after me!” He says before grabbing your hand and pressing kisses to it. “So what are you gonna get?” You ask as Bella shrugs her shoulders before glancing at something on the menu. “Wanna share this spaghetti with me?” They ask before turning to you with a smile. You shrug your shoulders “I never had Tofu before” Bella eyes widen at what you said before shaking her head in disbelief “all this time since we have been dating you never once had tofu?” They ask as you look up into space trying to find at least a time you have had it….but nothing is clicking you shake your head. “We have to change that” they say as you giggle.

“You know it’s kind of unfair” Pedro says as you and Bella turn to him with the camera still in his hand. “What’s unfair?” You both say in unison. “You know how come vogue asked you guys to do the 24 hour thing before me!” He grumbles as you and Bella look at each other before laughing “it’s not funny! This is not funny it’s quite unfair actually, why didn’t they ask me huh? Do they think my life is that boring? Well I’ll tell you what my life is actually full with thrill” he says once again you and Bella don’t say anything you just stare at him. “Well maybe you might be the next person they ask” you say as Bella nods her head in agreement. Pedro mumbles something under his breath you roll your eyes “you know I was in shock when they asked us to do it y’know?” Bella confessed.

The waiter walks over with a smile on his face “what can I get the three of you guys today?” He ask as Bella points to his menu with a smile on his face “this Tofu spaghetti-” “with Mushrooms” you add interrupting her ordering Bella glances over at you before looking back at the waiter “with mushrooms, and vegan cheese on top” he adds as the waiter writes it down. He turns to you before you order a shrimp Alfredo but with extra shrimp on the side. The waiter leaves after he gets everyone’s order.

A good twenty minutes go by of everyone talking until Bella interrupts you “So Y/N what did you need to tell me?” Bella says as you stare at them in confusion before remembering. “O-oh yea um I n-need to tell you something” you stutter as Bella nods her head with a big smile on her face and ushering you to go on you start playing with your fingers not knowing what to say. “Come on babe say it I won’t judge you” she reassure you which calms you down slightly. As you open your mouth to say something the waiters comes over with your food “Tofu Spaghetti with mushrooms, Shrimp Alfredo with extra shrimp and your food will be out shortly” the waiter says before leaving to get Pedro’s food.

The night went of with ease Pedro and Bella cracking jokes, you making fun of Pedro, him recording cute moments between the two of you. It almost made you forget what you wanted to ask Bella until Pedro got up to use the restroom the table goes quiet for a few seconds before Bella grabs ahold of your hand.

“W-well you know how we have been together for a while now?” You question as Bella nods their head slightly confused. “Well don’t you think it’s time to take our relationship to the next level?” Bella tilts her head not knowing what you are trying to get at. “Babe what do you mean?”

“I just don’t wanna leave you-” “what do you mean leave me?” Bella says interrupting you, you sigh before grabbing Bella’s other hand “I go back to America in forty eight hours and I don’t wanna continue this long distance relationship anymore” Bella looks at you taking in what you are saying “I love you Bella I really, really do and this has been on my mind all day but I really want us to move in together. You can say no it’s totally fine i would understand one hundred percent if you want your personal space-” Bella stops you before you continued to ramble on and on. “Is that really what has been bothering you? Y/N I wanted to keep this a secret from you but I have been apartment searching since you came here” he reveals as you stare at him.

Really?” you ask as he nods with a smile on his face. Pedro walks back over to the table sitting down as you and Bella continue with your conversation “Aw Bella I love you so much” you say before hugging her and planting kisses all over her face. Pedro looks at the two of you confused but with a smile on his face at the cute little scene in front of him. “Me and Bella are moving in with each other!” You yell excited as Bella laughs at you.

“Fucking finally” Pedro says as you glare at him he snickers before placing the camera into Bella’s hand “if I can help you guys move in it would make my day” he offers as you nod your head turning to Bella with a smile on your face

—

“Me and Y/N are finally moving in with each other” Bella’s says as you nod your head wrapping your arms around his waist and planting kisses onto his shoulders. “It was such a fun day” he says “a long day” you add on as they snicker. “Well vogue this is 24 hours with Bella Ramsey and Y/N L/N and we hope you had a good day with us today until next time!” They say as you both wave at the camera. Bella closes the camera before turning to you “new adventures await m’lady” they stated as you roll your eyes with a smile on your face you honestly can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with her.

I hope you enjoyed this I tried my best with this fic (and I feel as if I rushed the ending) I take criticism so please give me feedback and please request :) orevwa Ⓒ︎ bellaxellie.

#bella ramsey #bellaxellie #celebrity #celebrity x reader #bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey x y/n #bella ramsey imagine

[charmac]

Today I spent about an hour around/with Rob and I'm gonna write about it.

He recognised me from last night, came up and talked to us where I really lost all ability to calm or filter myself (which was, admittedly, already very little). He told me he's been seeing a lot of my Tweets and I asked why he followed me. He said he thought I had "a lot of fun and interesting things to say." I did not expect that, literally at all, I was trying to see if he knew my handle, @/pqdres, was for San Diego's baseball team, so I derailed myself from that conversation a bit lol oops.

The night before this he signed my S10 DVD cover on the plastic protector I had, so he offered to sign it properly when he noticed I had it with me again tonight:

I know I just kind of bulldoze over his words, (He said “Thank you for all the Twitter love”) but it’s because I had a script in my head and.. I'm sure a lot of you guys get it, lol. He didn't seem bothered, which I really appreciate.

He took individual photos with everyone who wanted one (like half the people in the bar (which wasn't even that many) had no interest in him) and when we were taking mine he asked for someone to shine an overhead light so we could get a good picture together bc I offhandedly said I needed to turn off my front flash.

I met him again, a little later at another bar (like Charlie and Glenn in October, he just kinda was walking around and hitting up various bars Four Walls was advertising at) and I apologised for my constant presence around him. The reason I stuck around was because I had one last request for the night, something I very much owed to @macdennissurvivor. I told him Emma was the person who got me into the Sunny fandom, and I would appreciate if he could say hi to her on camera. I started recording and then he said 'Nope give me your phone' and then went on a walk and recorded a 20 second video for her on my phone. I think that moment was a fundamental tilt for me.

I know I criticize this man a bit, but god-fucking-damn-it if he isn't the creator of my favourite show in the whole world, one of my favourite characters of all time, half of my URL, the reason I am writing and creating as much as I currently do, the reason I have made actual, real, deep friendships in the past few years, and he took so much time and patience with me, he recorded a whole video for my friend because he does fucking care. He sees us, this part of the fandom, and he appreciates it: that we’re a community and truly connect through his show. Words really can't express my emotions. Thank you Rob, for this.

#i have not cried in i cant tell you how long #and i got home and just. #3 tears fr #he got me. #he fucking got me as he should #FUCK dude they say never meet your faves #its because it means youre gonna simp for them for life i think #jesus #personal #rob mcelhenney #i made this post on twitter and #those teens are priv quoting me to hell #jealousy .. rough #anyway. #sorry if i look like a wanker but i don’t care lol