#i will go back to read this each time i feel like im forgetting parts of this trip

[honeytonedhottie]

HOW I MANIFESTED MY DESIRED APPEARANCE (success story)⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🎐

so manifesting my desired appearance in full took roughly 2 weeks, also this post is pretty long bcuz im not gatekeeping anything, im giving u guys the full story, the full scoop on how i did it so here we go...

some things that i remember doing was, before going to bed i'd either read what my desired appearance looks like (i wrote a list bcuz me as a person, i LOVE writing things down) and i'd read that list before bed like it was fact.

or if i didn't have the list with me, when i was the state akin to sleep i'd talk to myself (ik it sounds weird but its natural for me so it worked) and i'd be like "ik for a fact that i am (fill in the blank)" or "ik for a fact that i have (fill in the blank)"

and i'd just say it to myself, or sometimes when i'd shower, for every part of my body that i'd wash (i separated it into sections) and for each section i'd talk about an aspect of my appearance as though it was from someone else's POV. for example, part of my desired appearance was a difference in hair texture so i'd say "omg honey's hair is SO long and glossy". like i'd talk thru someone else's pov ABOUT my appearance in either a tone of admiration, envy, or indifference.

even if i didn't see movement a couple times or got discouraged, i went back to what feels RIGHT and thats affirming for me.

some key statements i used :

i know for a fact

i have my exact desired appearance bcuz im god and i said so

another thing that rly helped me was visualization, i was living PURELY in my imagination, completely in my head. i was REAL delulu. i have a vision board on pinterest that was SO helpful for me.

when i saw things in the 3d that didn't please me i completely disregarded it, and when i tell u COMPLETELY, i completely dismissed anything that i didn't like, or that didn't sit right with me.

another little exercise that i liked to do was actually bcuz of a bad habit. so i have a RLY bad habit of checking the 3d but i used it to my advantage. my habit was that every morning the first thing i'd do is go and look in the mirror. when i manifested my desired appearance what i'd do, is i would go to the bathroom mirror and tell my subconscious what i see. so my logic behind this was that since the subconscious didn't have any eyes i could tell my subconscious that i had the head of a unicorn and it'd believe me 💀. so i would talk to my subconscious and tell it what i saw. "i see an angel skull" "i see rly rly long lashes" "i see waist-length hair" etc etc.

i went to the end and i BASKED in it. moral of this manifestation story :

persist regardless of what u experience with ur 5 senses

time is an illusion so forget about it

dont settle for less than what u seek

go straight to the end and bathe in it bcuz u can't try and be something that u already are 

failure doesn't exist

apply

#law of assumption #becoming that girl #it girl #self care #self concept #that girl #self love #it girl energy #manifesting #loa tumblr #neville goddard #affirm and persist #affirmations #manifesting tips #master manifestor #manifestation #manifesting appearance change

[mandalhoerian]

lamb to the slaughter | leon kennedy x reader

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

🌀 read on ao3!

Leon comes back from Spain a bit different. 

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

A pattern has been broken.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, it’s fine—”

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

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

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

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

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

You fold. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking about—?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I apparently should have.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because I can’t.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love him for coming back. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love. He said love. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fucking hell. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sit on my face.”

You blink a couple times. “What?”

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

“Will you be alright—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He does not give you one single break. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m gonna— Leo–n, please, please—!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘m not doin’ ‘nything…”

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

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

“Yeah, I mean—”

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

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

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

“I don’t need glasses.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How is he so sure! 

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

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

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

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

You fucking squirted. 

Didn’t even know you could do that. 

He made you because he was jealous.   

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

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

You’re too sleepy for this.

You’re dreaming that you’re Leon. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah..?” 

“I’ve shared it with you.” 

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

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

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

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

Well. 

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

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

“Time for what?” 

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

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

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

Why the hell is there a stranger in your room?

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

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

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

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

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

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

This isn’t a prank. 

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

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

Huh.

Huh?

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t we just—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh what the fuck.

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

There’s blood when you remove your hand. 

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

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

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

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

“I want to go home. I want to leave.”

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

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

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

“What.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who are you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So what do we do? What should I do?”

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

Leon is still Leon. 

But you’re terrified. 

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

“I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not even a hola for your old friend?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ll stay with him in this darkness.

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

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

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

The lamb doesn’t want to leave the slaughterhouse. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay...”

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. 

Oh. 

It’s not just you. 

You’re both fucked up. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You rise on your knees still framing the outside of his thighs, and taking advantage of the small difference of height it gives you, yank his hair back to make Leon look up at you, his eyebrows arch upward in an arc, the ascent giving away the shock, and his mouth falls agape, lips parting to release a whispered exclamation “I don’t need this dirty talk, I want your dick in my throat.” You stare him down, catching your reflection in his red eyes and see that the same blight webbing him up is also infesting you, shining in your eyes in the same shade of crimson as his. You simply don’t care. “Is that a satisfying answer?”  

His chin lowers, leering lascivious, and you swear the veins on his face become a more prominent shade of black. “Jesus Christ.” He yanks on the chains, the harsh sound higher in pitch with the power behind it. “Gimme the key.”

“Nooooot gonna.” He leans towards you when you scooch away from his lap, but is unable to chase you fully. You fixate on his crotch, mouth watering, throat anticipating taking in his shape, phantom soreness reminding you what’s coming. You reach out to his thighs and place your palms on his knees, running them up awfully slow, feeling the rigidifying limbs under your touch. 

“Huh? Hey, what do you mean—” He’s stuck between trying to get up and staying that way for you. “What, you’re not untying me?”

“Shut up, I’m in heat right now.” You pop the button of his jeans and bring down the zipper, palming his half-hard bulge above his underwear. “Stop complaining.”

His hips jolt up into your hand, eyes fleetingly rolling behind his head from the satisfying contact, and his cock continues to swell up in your hand, straining against the confines of his briefs. “I’m not complaining — ”

You yank his underwear down, his head popping free and dangling, you bring the underwear underneath his hips along with his jeans with a little help from him rising up and allowing them to slide down better. “You brought this on me, so I’ll feel good the way I want to. Stop. Talking.” 

Chuckling in an underestimating mirth, he’s in the middle of saying, “Yes, ma’am—” mockingly when you lift the edge of his top up to shove the crumpled fabric into his mouth, exposing the carved dips and curves of his chest and stomach. He’s rendered shellshocked for only a second before he lukewarmly glares at you, that’s how you know he doesn’t hate it and only acts like he does. That interested swishing of his tail would be enough to break the chains, but he doesn’t attempt it at all. A silent communication passes between you two, that this is an extension of the role-reversal sex you had the day he left for Spain, and he makes it clear he’s down for whatever you want to do with him. 

Without breaking eye contact, you kiss down his chest and the pads of your fingertips glide along his heated, soft and firm skin, and slow down when you reach the plane of his pronounced abs that tense with each lick and open-mouthed nibble from you, the tautness increasing when the way down from his navel and the path you follow along the veins end up becoming torturously unhurried. 

He has to breathe from his nose, and you pick up where he is on the scale of impatience from his control breaking for it to seep into how sharp or deep they become 

You decide to go on your stomach for now,  letting him remain perched, the coldness filtering into your clothes from the ground not really all that important compared to drinking in all of Leon’s crumpled microexpressions. 

A satisfied noise rises from him as you take him into your hand and give a couple pumps and purposefully stick your tongue out to let your spit dribble considerably on it for better slip and slide, he’s starting to get red in the face. 

And when he thinks it’s about to start with the usual opening of getting him in the mood by the standard jerk-off and the buildup from there, you catch him off-guard by taking him all the way into your throat in one go, concentrating to keep your gagging and choking at a manageable bodily response that won’t make you recoil and start coughing — and surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt, whatever’s in that stinger of his is making everything feel different, you are actually scratching an itch at the back of your throat with Leon and it feels so fucking good to give him head and hearing him respond so eagerly to it. 

The sound he makes despite holding his shirt up with his mouth is choked and powerful as his hips jerk forward and pushes into your mouth, his guttural whine stutters from Leon as you swallow around him. He can’t talk and respond or tell you how you’re doing, but all the pretty noises, from gruff groans, to desperate humming, and restrained moaning tell you all about how he’s feeling. 

You run your nails along the skin underneath his naval and the muscles there jump, the bobbing of your head picking up unexpectedly as you’re literally working to rip his climax off, and he doesn’t feel it sneak up on him, breathing getting more rapid and panicked at how fast you’re wrenching it out of his dick and unconscious shallow thrusts meeting your movements right in the middle — you know exactly when he’s about to come from the slight swell of his dick in down your fluttering esophagus and the tightening of his stomach. 

That’s when you stop and take him out with an audible pop, your lips puffed and red, eyes teary. It twitches before slapping against him and his shirt falls from his teeth in an agonized and disappointed groan as his hips stutter forward in an attempt to search for friction, the fucking saliva trail connecting his lips to the fabric makes your heartbeat swoop downwards. “Why? I was right there!—”

You bat your eyelashes at him, blowing cold air on his denied arousal. “I know, baby.”

“You…” His lips draw back in the middle of a low sound at you gripping his base and giving the head kitten licks, alternating between swirling your tongue around and focusing on sucking the tip only. “Ah, what the fuck.” Your tongue delves into the slit of his head and precum gushes forward, his teeth are exposed in a breathy sharp hiss and a jolt.  “Yeah, that’s it… Shit.” 

The view of his fat chest and his strained, sweat-glistening strong neck swallowing is divine, you pick up the momentum again just to see him get worked up enough to throw his head back for the sight of his striking Adam’s apple, the black veins are doing something else to you that has your insides flipping.

You catch the glimpse of his tail swishing in the air, curling at tandem with your movements. You try taking all of him again to see how it’ll move and the sudden stop and trill has you wanting some friction between your legs. “Fuu—ck, your mouth is a vision, full of me.”

You lick along the bigger vein trailing up under his cock. “Does it feel that good?”

He only nods and thrums a small shudder, but you don’t let him off the leash just yet. “How easy.” Leon’s eyes snap open at the audacity. “Being chained and played with like this…” You give him a particularly harsh pump and the chains jangle because of his sudden tug. “Letting it happen because you want it so much. Desperate to be fucked.”

The degradation alone gets him to pulsate in your hand a couple times, his brow wrinkles as if he’s suffering. “You like this.” You drag a sluggardly strong grip up his weeping cock and his tail whips the ground. “Say it.”

His muscles tense and release, creating a rhythmic movement beneath the surface of his groin upon your teeth getting into the mix. “Shit — I love it.” His arms flex, causing his shackles to rattle. “Everything you do — everything you do to me feels amazing. Keep going, nearly there, I’m about to—”

You hum around him, and he clearly feels the vibrations, rising his hips in an unbelievably hot fluid movement and cursing under his breath, ruby-stained eyes glassy and feverish and mouth thinned and bit from inside. His thighs caging you begin to shake, and you’re made aware he’s close again. 

And this time, it’s him who knows you’ll pull back when he needs it the most. “Oh no, you don’t.” 

Something coils around your torso and pins you in place so his dick can’t slip out of your mouth, you struggle for air and attempt to pull back, but Leon barges in on your alarm, hoarse and gravelly. “Easy, it’s just me, don’t worry.”

Your hands grasp to the fabric of the jeans on the inside of his thighs, finally able to comprehend he used his tail to bind you — surprisingly gentle yet immovable, it doesn’t suffocate you, nor hurt you in any way. 

Mouth still around him, you look up to see he’s watching you, possessing a smoldering zeal, hunger a glint on a knife’s edge, shadow of a sly smile dances upon his lips, a knowing smirk, a sense of assuredness amplifying how he has you, one that reveals all that he’s thinking and claims control from your hands. With every heavy breath he takes, his chest rises and falls, revealing the heightened state of his arousal, and it seems his irises glow a shade darker crimson, a pulsating energy radiating from him, a palpable magnetism that ignites a fire within your own being.

“I’m going to move us around, stay still.” 

He makes sure to remove his erection from your mouth without hurting you before it’s with a natural predator’s grace he rises and stands up, his tail maneuvering you around to sit on your knees right in front of him, and you can only gape as he wraps the excess of chains around his wrists so they don’t get in the way, his forearms and biceps pop like they belong to a god like this. 

“Pretty mouth, waiting just for me.” At this height, he’s able to reach down and run a thumb along your bottom lip and push in, rubbing through the length of your tongue, fascinated.  

The giant appendage, then, unwinds around you, but much to your astonishment, doesn’t slither away, the thinnest end sneaking its way between your thighs instead and your legs clamp around it, but the drag forward defying your refusal has you squeaking. God, the jointed nature of it, like some weirdly shaped anal beads, is acting as periodic zaps moving against your heated sex. It even has the strength to fucking lift you up. Your panties are going to be ruined at this rate. “Leon, what—”

“Wanna make you feel good too.” You’re boosted up when it gives you a particularly harsh press, stars shooting everywhere in your vision with the delicious press not just focusing on one area, but rolling through your clit and dipping to make your entrance contract. “I’ll move it, you focus on taking me.”

Fuck, this is basically the thigh riding from before but on another level, that’s so hot —  

His manacled hands wrap around the angry red of his cock, the size of his hands so titillating fisting the length. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth, is that okay?”

You reflexively swallow, mouth watering instantly. “Please. Please.”

“Such a good girl, begging for my cock down your throat. I can’t refuse when you plead like that.” He rewards you by a rich thrust of his tail forward, your eyes closing in delight, you’re sure that a wet spot is forming with all that moving around. “Open up.” 

You obey and loosen your jaw as much as you can to let him set the pace, hands grabbing on the moving appendage between your legs in preparation to be used like some glory hole, but unlike your aggressive start from before, Leon is much more deliberate and unhurried in bottoming out, your head is swimming in a sea of dizzyingly gratifying smog, white and blanked out as he pleasures you through it. 

You get so lost in it that he sharply hisses and caresses your forehead with shaking hands and has to warn, “No teeth, sweet girl. Relax… Yeah, just like that. You’re doing so well, so perfect, making me feel so good.” 

You don’t mean to mewl around him the way you do, but his praises are so sweet as if he’s always getting his dick sucked for the first time, makes you feel appreciated, makes you feel special. 

Tears are streaming down your face, saliva drooling down your chin, you’re sure you’re gonna have a sore throat after this, and that sight would be ugly and messy to you, something you wouldn’t want to show anyone, needlessly embarassing, but it spurs Leon on, he craves prettying you up as he says, loves that you become a mess just for him — and you had missed all of that being a sign of neediness before all this. He loves the feeling of being special just as you do, loves that he’s able to get you filthy like this. 

“Shit — can’t believe I get to have this forever, now… Never thought… Never—” He breathily laughs, the sound turning into a wanton growl as your throat constricts through his drawn-out, unrushed thrusts. He’s babbling like a man in a confessional, speed beginning to pick up, the movement of his tail also reflecting the frenetic climb, sending your snowballing itch spiraling into completion. “Don’t care what happens anymore — don’t care, don’t care, only need this—sah, fuck!”  

His hands hastily rest on top of your hand to keep you in place and you whine and squeal, his stretch digging impossibly further down, a long groan echoing in the chamber at the same time of something metallic shattering and falling off with incredible strength, Leon’s hips twitching in place with your nose buried deep in the fuzz of hair at the base of his cock. Waves of warm spurts drizzle down your esophagus, and you don’t taste anything, but have a go at swallowing on instinct, and it coerces a strained, debauched moan out of him. 

His tail moves to pull you away from him and you sit back on your heels, shaking more so from your impending orgasm being pulled right under your feet like a rug because of the abrupt halt of the rhythm, unable to stop the coughing, wrapping a hand around your throat for dampening the soreness, and before you know it, his lips have taken the place of your hand, smothering your neck and your face with kisses. 

“You did so good. A fucking angel of sin — for me only.” He doesn’t hesitate to entwine his tongue with yours tenderly as if it’s a honeyed treat to lap up, his gratitude and enthusiasm running high as before. The way he speaks into your mouth gets you pressing your legs together to ease the painful, sweet throbbing between your legs. “You were amazing, sucked the soul out of me, holy shit.”

A whiny, “Leon,” and a tug on his shirt is all he needs to know you need him.  

“I know sweet girl, I have you.” His tail sneaks around your waist again, loose in case of your refusal. In the corner of your eye, you see the winch fastening the chains on the ceiling is squashed on the floor, yet his hands are still bound. “You trust me to make you feel good, right?”

“Yes, always.”

“You can say no if you don’t like this.” The sensation of being moved so easily by something alien is frightening as much as it’s arousing when it’s coming from Leon, your anticipation is about to drip down your legs at his tail gently propelling you up to stand on both feet steadily and turning you around so your back is facing Leon. You are bent down from the waist, and the fear of falling makes you jump, but the appendage is fully supporting you, almost making you float, you could stand on your tiptoes with full body weight and you wouldn’t crash on your forehead. “Is this alright?”

You are about to break down in a series of tremors from how much this is turning you on. “Yeah.”

His hands run along your tailbone. “I’m going to chain your wrists behind your waist. That okay?”

“Fuck. Yes.”

“Tell me if it’s too tight.” He doesn’t need to reach for your hands, you align them to rest on your waist on top of each other. He does adjust them a bit and sets you straight after you crane your neck to take a good look at what he’s doing — you’re only able to get a single frame of him unwinding some of the restraints around his wrists to bind them around yours, affectively connecting both your shackled wrists together in a short line of chain. One of his hands grabs and tugs, securing his tail around your torso a bit better at the same time. “How is that? Any discomfort?”

“It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Can you please just fuck me already, I’m about to die.”

He lets you go to slide two fingers up your clothed pussy, your folds quite literally pulsing at the contact. “It’s burning up —- you want to brand me, huh?”

You don’t indulge in his running mouth, just wanting to enjoy the fiery pleasure his fondling fingers light in their wake. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He switches to pulling your pants down together with your panties, but not all the way down, making it hang in the middle of the most supple part of your thighs, efficaciously getting them to act as yet another restraint, this time, around your legs so you won’t be able to part them. Two digits easily slide inside and you yelp, held in place mercilessly. “Fuck,” he says, faintly, a subdued composure, the voice going straight to your pussy and making you clench over his fingers. “You eat me up so eagerly. That hungry, sweet girl?”

Your head’s tingling and buzzing from all that rush of blood in this position, everything gets more overwhelming when you bow your head. You just want him inside you. “Please…”

 You pitifully moan at the loss of your fingers, and the brief squeeze of his tail is comforting. “I’ll relieve you.” The replacement of his bulbous tip running through your lower lips is enough stimulation for your toes to curl inside your shoes. 

You’re shaking with the release of your anticipation, and he curses. “Fuck, you’re sucking me in.” The same chain that binds you both rattles when he grabs your bound wrists, your eyes widening at how his tail also simultaneously pulls you towards him to sink into his girthy length, working together with his hips. 

He’s working you. Using you. Manhandling you, drilling you into him like he’s using a fleshlight as he pleases and everything feels so euphoric, your mind descending into a foggy, floaty bliss despite the tears of instant gratification; the whole burden of responsibility, decision-making, and external pressures melt away and only he exists, and the ecstasy Leon’s spoon-feeding you.

He checks in on you, pulling on your binds, voice tight. “Feel good, sweet girl?” 

“I wa—” You hiccup, followed by a trembling whimper, wanting something for your neglected clit, you can’t reach the threshold like this, you keep rising but not enough. “I wanna come, please, let me—”

“Sshh.” His tail is circling you, like a snake twisting around its prey, and you don’t get it at first that he’s getting more of it into the grip for the fat and curling part of his stinger to be able to reach and roll over your unattended, swollen nub. 

Your mind is so sunken into the pleasure you can’t even worry about the barbed part getting near your vulnerable parts, but he’s an expert at making it knead just the way that gets you uninhibitedly screaming. “I got you, I got you.”

Your legs collapse beneath you, his tail carrying your entire weight as your climax fractures within you unexpectedly, not even taking some time to grow and spread and take time aching — it just explodes, making your body convulse in aftershock shudders, unable to contain your palpitating sobs. 

“Ah, Jesus Christ, fuck!—” The clamp of your cunt around Leon also dropkicks him into his own orgasm, shooting straight into your cervix. He rams into you a couple times before he bottoms out to the hilt, his chained hands having yours in a death-grip, staying like that until the twitching of his cock subsides and he starts going soft. 

When you come to next, the chains are completely gone, broken and shattered on the floor, even. Your clothes are straightened and he sits cross-legged on the ground, his back to a wall, and you’re on his lap, tightly hugged by him, still struggling to catch your breath. The view of his muscular arms around your waist is a delight, as always. 

“I feel disgusting,” you say. A sense of discomfort washes over you, amplified by the lingering physical sensations of sweat and fluids. Your face contorts with a mix of satisfaction and unease, the need to cleanse yourself from the stickiness that clings to your skin uncomfortable.

“I think that was amazing.”

You snort. “Not that — I mean, I want to take a bath, everything feels so sticky.”

Leon plants a kiss to the side of your head. “I’ll take you.” 

He probably means somewhere you can clean yourself, but you can’t help but ask. “Take me where?” 

He pulls you in to snuggle better, resting his forehead on your shoulder, tired but playful. “Well, there’s this castle.” 

He still hasn’t told you all that much about what’s going to happen. There is no salvation from the parasite inside you anymore, it has its home in you, but you know you’re not a captive, not when you share the same chains as him. “After our visit, can I—can we return home, then?”

“I…” The sentence dies as it starts. “I don’t think that’s possible. Not for a while.”

“Because you won’t let me?”

“Because I don’t know what Saddler will want with you.”

He knew the consequences. 

Something inside you makes you change your mind — no, he chose the lesser of two evils for you knowing what was coming. 

You can’t bring yourself to blame him, this was meant to happen — you were meant for this gift, meant for this fate, to carry this creature, share it with him. You feel less doubtful and sure of this now, feel the same red of Leon’s eyes, the black of his veins, you shoulder the agony together. 

Your common sense gives a last breath as it fades into non-existence. “We’re fucked, aren’t we?”

He chuckles, shielded and spiteful. “Yeah.”

“But you still wanted me by your side.”

“I was worried.”

“You were lonely.” He succumbs into a muzzled silence, and you try to reach out once again. “At least we’re together, right?” 

“Yeah… Together in this hell.” You don’t get to see what kind of face he’s making. His deep voice is raspy, and despite his contrition, he’s holding onto you tighter than before. Failure is a shame upon him, and he doesn’t let himself be comforted. “I’m sorry for bringing you down with me.”

“I’d burn for you, anyway. I don’t care.”

He’s brusque and uncompromising. “I wouldn’t let you burn.”

“Then I’d burn with you.” You turn in his lap to look him right in the eyes — his red meets your red. “Together in this hell, right?”

Lambs to the slaughter. 

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine

[bellalaufeyson69]

Peter Quill x Reader

Enemies to lovers (sort of)

Breakfast

(Spoiler if reading this next sentence! Takes place after GOTG and before GOTG3. Gamora is with the Ravagers and is no longer with Peter in any way. Also meaning that as confirmed by James Gunn, we the reader can understand what Groot says because we’ve been with him so long 🥹)

Description: Quill and Yn hardly ever get along and it’s gotten on everyone’s nerves. Nebula comes up with a solution to the problem by making them spend time together in hopes of working out the differences.

Wc ♡ 3.5k

Masterlist ♡

————

Rays of sunlight burst through the wide front windows of the Milano as the team sat around the table waiting for Groot to finish the breakfast. We all took a straw from a hat daily to see who had the duty, though when any one of us pulled the straw and saw it said groot, we’d discretely pretended it said someone else’s name. It wasn’t that we didn’t trust him to be a good cook, it was just that he can get a little… distracted.

“What day is it today?” The tree pondered, looking over to Mantis awaiting an answer all the while completely unaware that a twig from his arm has now caught fire from the stove.

I was quick to catch this and jumped from my spot to put it out, though as I ran to help him I came crashing into a tall, decently sweaty Peter. “Common Quill!” I hissed before turning back to Groot only to be halted by his annoying voice.

“Oh like that was my fault,” he complained throwing his hands in the air and looking to the team for reassurance yet getting none as they tended to zone Peter and I’s arguments out.

“Maybe if you payed any attention to anything you ever do!” I snapped turning back to face him feeling a rise of irritation come over me causing me to completely forget why I’d even got up in the first place. “Also, you’re disgusting. We have showers for a reason, you literally soaked my arm in your nasty sweat,” I made a disturbed expression whilst wiping the warm wet liquid onto my pants.

He scoffed with an eye roll while taking a glance at the ceiling. “Im sorry if I get a little sweaty when I work out, it’s natural, and I was going to take a shower, not that it’s any of your business; after we ate breakfast.”

“How convenient, so we can all join together and eat while inhaling your B.O.”

“Oh would you two please just shut up! I’m sick of all the incessant bickering you make me want to rip my ears off,” Nebula intruded from beside Groot. She and Rocket had been busy helping Groot put out the small flame that Peter and I had long forgotten about. “You’ve been irritating because Gamora’s gone, and you’ve been a living-breathing brat ever since you failed the last mission,” she called out our behavior almost in a motherly way. She’s been weirdly diplomatic when dealing with us instead of just telling us to go yell at each other somewhere else.

With a huff I went back to my seat and sank in the chair feeling a tinge of embarrassment overwhelm me at the memory of that last mission. I had never failed before, and this time put everyone at danger because I couldn’t control my emotions and attacked a guard too soon. I got a lecture about it from pretty much everyone except Mantis and Groot. That experience definitely hurt my pride quite a lot, so sometimes I might have a little extra sass to try and build it back up. “At least mines a real reason to be acting like a jerk,” Peter mumbled while sitting down in the seat farthest from me.

I snickered to myself at his comment. Sometimes he can be a real idiot. “You realize you called yourself a jerk too right? Nice one Einstein.” I clapped back not willing to let him win this argument, or really any in the future. Peter Quill just always has to be the leader, the cool guy, always right. Not when it comes to me.

“That’s it!” Nebula shouted in pure aggravation. She stomped over to the both of us and grabbed one of our arms with a decent strength considering she’s part bot. “You two are on breakfast duty, and if I hear you argue once while doing it then you’re both gonna be stuck cleaning the engine for two months,” she snapped, shoving us both toward the fridge. We often all had chores to do but we made it fun by having a spin wheel to see who has to do what. Cleaning the engine was always the worst one, but what made it easier was knowing you only had to do it once and then you could spin the wheel next chore week.

“Who said you were in charge? I think you’re forgetting this is MY ship,” Peter defended while crossing his arms.

“Yeah,” I added confidently. Who the heck is Nebula to tell us what to do.

“Nah I agree with that. You two are the most annoying a-holes I’ve ever had to share a space with. Mantis and Drax don’t even argue as much as you do,” Rocket chimed in matter of factly.

“It is true! I would much rather sit and listen to Mantis’s pathetic stories than hear you two fight anymore,” Drax said as he stood tall and serious.

Mantis glanced over to him with a bubbly smile. “Awhh thank you!”

“You are welcome idiot,” Drax replied with a pleasant smile. In his mind he was being respectful, and Mantis didn’t know any better.

Nebula turned her head back to us with an expression as of saying ‘that’s what I thought’. “So it’s settled. You two are gonna work this stupid stuff out, and if we hear so much as a bad tone, then you get stuck with Engine duty,”

We’d both surfaced a similar response between grumbles and eye rolls, yet had no choice but to accept our fate. Majority rules is how this ship functions, which was a feature I loved when it was in regard to someone else. Soon the rest of the group piled out, rocket on his way out mumbled on about how we’d better be quick. I gave a short glance to Peter which was a mistake as he’d so very annoyingly been standing there sifting through songs his Walkman and earbuds. Of course he’d tune me out, I wouldn’t be surprised if he just stood here the whole time too.

I started gathering some of ingredients and pans we’d need, already feeling angry at the fact that he hadn’t even attempted to move to help me. This was a clear indicator that my assumption of his laziness was likely going to be right. I semi aggressively dropped down the container of bacon onto the counter letting my current mood take the control of my motion. I grabbed the unused pan and placed it down and began putting strips of bacon on it. “You’re doing that wrong,” Peter softly mentioned. He seemed tired, I wasn’t sure if it was tired of the arguing or just in general but the tone definitely helped ease my anger a little bit.

With a huff I turned to look over at him and was surprised to find him standing so close, hovering just inches from my frame looking down at the pan, then making eye contact with me. His expression was blank, and calm which confused me. “I’m putting the strips out, how else am I supposed to do it?” I felt my brow still furrowed down in the looming frustration I felt before. We always fight, and one of us always takes it too far, those are times that make it hard to ever not be annoyed at the man’s presence.

He took an earbud out and let it hang by the cord before stepping closer until his body was pressed against my side. I stayed long enough to feel his warmth until I realize the normal thing to do would be to step out of his way, so that I did. Part of me wished he’d do it again, that he’d give me an excuse to accept his embrace. If I hate him so much why did that little ounce of intimacy feel so nice? A confusing mix of emotions. “You don’t put them all at once only do half so they cook more evenly,” he explained whilst taking off some of the already placed bacon. “Also put them folded like this so that- F*CK! AGH!” He’d instantly jumped back from the grizzling pan holding his hand in pain. “Stupid grease, ow!” He complained to the pan as if it were alive which made me laugh quite a lot. The whole scene was funny really.

I hadn’t noticed that through my laughing he’d been looking at me smiling ever so slightly, until I caught him, in which he looked back at the pan. “Are you alright there captain?” I amusingly teased his super strong title, while instinctively placing a caring hand on his shoulder with a soft rub. The moment I placed it I felt the mortified realization of my actions and ripped my hand back off. Too embarrassed to comment on it I’d redirected my focus to making eggs in the other pan hoping he wouldn’t mention it.

I cooked in silence for a little while until I felt as if I was being watched. Hesitantly I turned my gaze to Peter and surely enough was met with him staring right back at me. He looked to be deep in thought until I caught him when his lips curled into an arrogant grin. “Oh no no no, are you kidding me? You’re tellin’ me you can’t even cook eggs either? What can you do?” He provoked in amusement making me roll my eyes.

I waved my hands in the air in defeat. “Fine! You do it yourself then.” I stepped aside from the counter and began to walk away until I felt a warm hand take a light grip on my forearm and pull me backward. I stumbled back to my position in front of the pan where Peter was beside me holding my arm.

“Relax,” he soothed while slowly inching closer, it almost seemed like he was hoping his movements were slow enough for me not to notice. “You’re not gonna get any better with that attitude,” he continued, his hands slowly brushing my hips while I was too distracted listening to what he was saying. He moved cautiously almost trying to catch me in the distraction. “So much attitude all the time,”

I scoffed at his comment. “Attitude? I don’t have attitude, you’re the one who’s always moping around making little comments at everything.” his fingers now wrapped around my waist as he stood behind me, his breath tickling my shoulder.

“Let me show you,” he furthered, completely ignoring what I’d said and going on with his own point.

I’d attempted at pushing his hands off me. “No, I don’t need your help Peter,”

He stood there his grip strong as he looked down at me with a little ‘huh’. After the death glare I’d given he kindly explained the cause of the sound. “You called me Peter,” he pointed out with a grin.

I felt taken off guard at that comment and honestly a little flustered. I always made it a point to call him by his last name, I felt that first names were for people I respected. Why did that slip so easily? “I was just distracted…” I trailed avoiding his gaze and looking back to the pan. “Are we gonna cook the eggs or not?” I redirected the conversation away from the tension as I didn’t know how to react. My heart fluttered at his proximity but my mind reminds me of our dynamic. We’ve never got along let alone been close in this way.

He took my cue to move on and eagerly grabbed the spatula, handed it to me then paused and hesitantly slipped his hand on the back of my own. His other hand rested on my waist still as he guided the cooking. “It’s all about the wrist” he spoke softly.

I let out a breathe as I stood stiffly. I wasn’t sure what to do with this but I didn’t hate it. In fact it was quite the opposite. “This isn’t going to help you get over Gamora,” I bluntly stated without really thinking about it. I didn’t intend on being rude and my tone pushed that. Truth is that must’ve been an insecurity festered up. He’s a flirt and I can’t be his distraction.

He was silent for a moment but his position didn’t budge. “Why are you always so quick to push me away?” He quietly asked sincerely. He seemed hurt which was the last thing I expected from him. Was I reading our dynamic wrong? I couldn’t have been I mean we fight constantly.

“I don’t-“

“Don’t.” He interrupted. “Be real with me, just this one time,” he took the spatula from my hand and placed it on the table before grabbing the hand back again and bringing it to my waist to hold there. “What can I do to fix you and me?”

I didn’t know how to respond to that whatsoever because I didn’t know what that meant. You and me. As in no more arguing? As in becoming friends? As in something more? It doesn’t help that Peter is known for his flirting. “I-“ I sighed. “What do you mean?” I felt myself submitting to his touch as my body relaxed against his.

“Last weekend, we’re sitting on the couch. My arm was up around the top of it and if I moved it down just a little bit it would’ve literally been around your shoulder. Everything’s fine we’re all watching a movie, and I make a bad joke about your favorite character because I think it’s cute when you’re mad and you storm off cursing at me.” I couldn’t see the point he was pushing for but found myself blushing at the compliment. “Can’t you tell I do those things to get close to you? We don’t talk what so ever and the most I get from you is if I pull it out of you by making a dumb comment,” he explained his head now stooped closer to my shoulder, resting slightly against the side of my face and neck. “I know I can be childish, or a jerk but I don’t know what else to do when all I want to do is talk to you,”

“Oh really?” I perked up a little bit ready to make my point taking a step away from Peter. “What about the time we were here drinking and you made a comment about how I was ‘acting different to impress people’? How romantic,” I poked feeling his logic start to crumble.

He let out a huff. “You’re not remembering that the way I am and yeah I shouldn’t have said that but you spent the entire night all over that xandarian guy,” he expressed stepping forward to grab my hand and pull me back in. “You know how much I wanted to punch that dude straight in the jaw every time he touched you? Why should he get to kiss you?” He seemed to be getting offended just remembering the night, and honestly a little heated.

“Peter,” I softly tried to intercept.

“No, I’ve been here this entire time. For years it’s been me here with you, we go on missions, we’ve explored new planets, had ups and downs, and I have to sit there and watch some guy kiss you? Some guy who just came along that same day, put no effort into his relationship with you and got you,” he rambled on with pain in his eyes. I hadn’t seen him show that much emotion over someone since gamora. “It’s not fair,”

I felt horrible for not seeing this sooner. I couldn’t help but rethink everything but at the same time he definitely went about this in the wrong way to get my attention. He got it alright but it was never good. To me he was just constantly nitpicking me and all the things I liked and it drove me crazy. I guess that’s the fault in miscommunication. A lot of the stuff was pretty dumb to get genuinely mad at, often he’d just tease my favorite movies or comment on my fighting skills. Nonetheless in this moment I felt truly sad for him. “I didn’t know…” he was focused very intently on every word I said and I could just tell the anticipation anxiety was eating him up. In reality this was a confession of his feelings. “If I would’ve known…” I trialed off not wanting to press further as I’ve never been very good at expressing my feelings.

“If you would’ve known then what?” He softly nudged me to continue. He took our interlocked hands and held it on his chest.

“I don’t know, things would’ve been different. I didn’t know that’s how you felt I just thought you hated me honestly,” I admitted awkwardly.

He exhaled with a frown. “I could never hate you, and that mission…“ he got softer watching my expression because he knew this topic was sore for me. “It didn’t matter to me that we failed, all I could think about was how I could’ve lost you,” he admitted keeping eye contact as he spoke. “I can’t lose anyone else, and I just miss what we used to be like.”

This confused me as what he’s referencing is our friendship back when he was with Gamora. Is he trying to say he wants to be friends or is he being romantic? He’s so hard to read sometimes, but his actions are telling me romance. Clearly he could see the confusion etched on my face because he clarified all my questions without ever having to hear them. “You know, how close we were. Cracking jokes, playing pranks on the rest of them,” he explained. “I want that. But… something a little different…” he seemed a little more awkward now like he didn’t know how to word what he felt.

“How different?” I asked feeling my heart pick up just a little bit. Perhaps MAYBE the reason I got so mad at everything Peter did was because MAYBE I valued his opinion, because MAYBE I was sort of always secretly into him.

He perked up at the question surprised I hadn’t shot it down right then and there. “Well,” he started while taking my hand and giving me a dramatic twirl. The guy is smooth. “Maybe a little romance, I’m thinking Jim and Pam,” he referenced my favorite Earth show as I’ve forced him to watch it after our trip there.

A mischievous smile found my lips at that. “Ohhhh, so someone was lying about not liking the show?” I teased in a ‘I told you so’ kinda way.

He chuckled at my call out. “I told ya Y/N, I just love to mess with you.”

“Hmm, fine but you have to watch rom coms with me,” I laid out my terms matter of factly.

His eyes widened. “Fine? Fine what? Fine to the romance?” He double checked as I hadn’t made myself all that clear.

“I GUESS,” I dramatically excepted in a fake disinterested tone.

“Well then Mrs. Y/N” he pulled me into him yet again wrapping his arms around my torso, though this time I let my hands rest on his chest. “I’m gonna romance the shit outta you,” he grinned that same cocky little grin that used to make me wanna smack him.

I rolled my eyes at his over confidence but was thrown off at him leaning in closer to me. I couldn’t find anything sassy or witty to remark because now all my focus was on the fact that Peter Quill’s lips were so close to mine. The lips of always secretly wanted to kiss. I let out a breath feeling the tension before he’d made the move to fully go in. He kissed me softly, and slowly. His hand cupped my cheek and when he pulled away he gave a real genuine smile.

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me” rocket yelled out from the doorway next to a very shocked Nebula.

“I give them a week tops,” she jokingly murmured but I could tell she was genuinely happy for us.

Rocket groaned from his place clearly fed up with the fact that he’d suffered through our bickering just for us to end up into each other. “If I’d known all you two jackasses needed to do was bang it out- WHY ARE THE EGGS BLACK?” He ran over to the stove to turn off the switch as if that would save the already far gone breakfast. “that’s TWO breakfasts down the drain, that’s it! I’m done! We’re getting fast food from knowhere,” he flailed his hands in the air and walked out of the room in defeat making the rest of us chuckle.

“I’m glad you two figured it out finally,” Nebula gave a small smile. “Really thought you were blind,” she dryly joked.

Peter and I looked at each other in confusion for a moment before smiling and accepting the fact that apparently we’d been obvious about our unknown feelings. With that she left the room to follow Rocket to the controls of the ship to fly us all to knowhere. This left Peter and I alone once more, he stared down at me in amusement. “I knew you were into me.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes for the millionth time, slipped my fingers into his and dragged him out to the main area of the ship preparing for the rest of the teams reactions.

—————

My first Peter Quill fan fic! Sorta rushed so I apologize for any errors! Let me know if I should make more!

#peter quill #enemies to lovers #peter quill x reader #gotg fanfiction #peter quill fanfic #peter quill x yn #starlord #starlord x reader #starlord fanfic #the guardians of the galaxy

[yeokii]

# arguments w enha hyung line !! — part two (maknae line ver)

₊﹒ wc! 0.9k

₊﹒warnings! fighting, angst

₊﹒note! ty to my dookie @redm4ri for helping me with the members (im crying) luv ya my dooks

# lee heeseung

"It's not what you think," Heeseung pleaded, irritation visible on his face.

In his head, he thought he was right. But, boy, was he off. Both you and he went to a gathering, but he had ignored you the entire day and spent time with his best friend. You trusted Heeseung with your entire heart, and seeing him do this broke your heart into little pieces.

"She came back from the states two days ago, yn," He tried to reason, "I haven't seen her in four years, for fuck's sake."

"That is no excuse for you to ignore me, Hee," you sternly said.

"God, yn! Why can't you get it in your fucking brain? She and I are fucking friends!" He scoffed, frustrated as he brushed his hair back with his hands.

"Do you think I'm stupid? She looked like she wanted to kiss you! Are you kidding me?" It was your turn to scoff.

The tension thickened as hateful words spewed from each side.

"God, yn, why are you overreacting?" He asked, annoyed. "Stop being a fucking child; she's like a sister to me."

"Do you realize she spent more time with me? Of course, I'd miss her."

"Alright, if you miss her that much, feel free to go to her. I don't give two fucks anymore." And with that, you took your jacket once again and left the apartment.

₊﹒other members under the cut !!

# park jongseong

11:34.

The clock read.

He wasn't home yet.

Your worry grew more with every minute passing. The fact that Jay wouldn't pick up the thousands of your calls. You were a nervous wreck. You couldn't sleep at all. He was never late.

The door opened, finally.

In came a tired jay, his eyes worn out and his hair all ruffled up, his tie loose.

He took one look at you and his eyes automatically rolled.

"What the fuck Jay?" You spoke.

"God, please." He said. "Not now, yn. Im too fucking tired to hear your lectures."

"Jay?" You were astonished by his behaviour. He never spoke like this which took you off guard.

"Why are you speaking like that to me?" You asked, your heart heavy. "I was so worried about you, I called you a hundred times."

"God, I just don't wanna deal with this right now. I had a long day at work. " He massaged his temples as he started to head for the bedroom.

"You could've told me you were coming late."

"Stop being a fucking baby and stop being clingy. I'm a grown ass man. Your not my fucking mother."

You had nothing left to say. You gave him a stern look as your worried expression vanished. You headed to the bedroom and slammed the door not wanting to hear anymore out of your so called boyfriend's mouth.

# sim jaeyun

"Baby, can you please tell me what's wrong?" Your boyfriend pleaded due to the silent treatment you were giving.

You ignored him as usual, continuing to do the dishes.

"I would know whats wrong if you would tell me about it." His eyes holding a desperate plea.

You looked at him with disbelief written all over your face.

"How could you forget Jake?" You asked him, your voice sounding like a slight whisper.

"What?" He uttered with confusion.

"I waited for you all day last night. How could you forget?" You held back tears that threatened to spill out of your eyes.

"Forget what baby?" His eyes searched for some sort of answer from your face.

"Our anniversary Jake."

His eyes widened, as a wave of shock washed over him.

"I'm so sorry baby, It must've slipped out of my mind I-"

"It was raining Jake. I couldn't go outside because it was raining. I had to sit there at our date waiting for you to come. I had to go back home in the rain, Jake." You let out a sob. The familiar emotion of humility emerging over you.

"Yn, I'll make it up to you. It's not a big deal."

"It is, you asshole." You looked at him, tears leaving your eyes nonstop and you left the kitchen.

# park sunghoon

"Hoon please stop." You let out a mutter to your boyfriend, slightly tugging onto his hoodie.

You both were out with your friends and you and Sunghoon were having a good time until him and your friends started joking a little too much about you that made you uncomfortable.

"What? We're just having fun." He shrugged it off, laughing.

"No Hoon. I don't feel comfortable." A rush of insecurity roamed through you.

You tugged onto Sunghoon more which showed a bit of irritation on his face.

"God yn, learn how to take a joke." He said, a frown showing on his face.

"Please, I don't like when you talk about me like that infront of my friends."

"It's just a joke, babe."

"It's not Hoon." You sternly said.

"God! Stop being a fucking baby!" He yelled at you infront of your friends.

"Oh my god! Did yn's boyfriend just yell at her? Yikes.." One of your friends told the girl next to her.

You looked around and then back at Sunghoon. Shame washed all over you. You felt so humiliated, tears started to fall out of your eyes. Everyone's eyes were on you. You felt so isolated and outnumbered.

"I'm leaving." You told Sunghoon and with that you left.

perm taglist!! @flwoie @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @haknom

#k films #k labels #kflixnet #enhypen #jungwon #enhypen imagines #Jungwon imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen soft hours #jungwon soft hours #jungwon fluff #jungwon x reader #heeseung x reader #heeseung fluff #heeseung soft hours #jay x reader #jay fluff #jay soft hours #Jake fluff #Jake x reader #Jake soft hours #Jake imagines #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #park sunghoon #sunoo #sunoo imagines #sunoo fluff #sunoo x reader

[leclerced]

https://www.tumblr.com/enchantecafe/735984662758014976/hi-whispers-oscar-fucking-carlos-little

THE WAY I SCREAMED AND BECAME THE PERSONIFICATION OF: 😀😳😧

no bc THIS is the ultimate trope for oscar and carlos beef OH MY GOD?

imagine instead of oscar flat out telling him little sainz left her ring at his place oscar menace piastri starts wearing it around his neck on chain (i live and die for this trope oh my god). and the other drivers who’ve become acquainted with little sainz from years of carlos bringing her to races are like… “hold on is that what i think it is around the baby rookie’s neck😦?” i wanna imagine lando and charles are like lowkey laughing about it because carlos looks like he could literally murder oscar (or hire someone to do it) meanwhile oscar is just smugly staring at him as little sainz dotes on him while wearing his racing number (it’d be funny if a dts episode was about their beef and lil sainz is just sitting there all pretty like “???”)

part of me likes toxic oscar, but also i love that man too much. so in my head they are actually very happy together… getting to piss of carlos is just a bonus

-🌷

ok i didnt mean to write all this sorry not sorry. ending is rushed bc i realized it was Long. checked word count and its just over 1.4k so im adding a read more 🫶🏻

he ends up falling for her even though he just wanted to fuck with carlos, it takes him months to get into her pants and he’s so focused on the destination he forgets about the journey get there. he doesn’t realize he’s falling for her bc he’s never been in love before, so he doesn’t recognize it.

maybe the ring is very obvious like its gold with three diamonds on the front, he goes out and buys a matching gold chain that morning and he suddenly feels guilty for using her to get to carlos so he buys her a tennis bracelet to replace the ring he slipped off her finger. she’s awake and pouting when he gets back and immediately asks why he left. he silently holds up the jewelry store bag as he crawls back into bed with her. she immediately notices her ring dangling from his neck and reaches out to grasp it. she doesn’t know why but seeing him wearing it around his neck makes her stomach flutter. then he’s pulling a velvet box out of the bag and opening it to reveal a much prettier bracelet. he still doesn’t say anything as he clasps it around her wrist, and then he kisses her wrist right over her pulse point and murmurs, “just wanted to treat you.”

everyone immediately notices her bracelet when she shows up to the paddock and makes her way to carlos’s garage. he notices her ring is gone and the shiny bracelet has replaced it on her wrist and he takes her hand and asks where the ring is and where the bracelet came from? she wiggles her fingers and says, “i guess i forgot to put it on this morning. bracelet is new.” he pushes it out of his mind, tries to ignore the fact that she’d had only forgotten it a single day since their mother gifted it to her. she’d had a panic attack the one time she almost did leave it at home, and they nearly missed their flight turning around to get it. if she had forgotten it this morning, why wasn’t she freaking out?

lando would see it dangling around oscar’s neck as soon as he arrives at the track and they greet each other. he remembers seeing it on her finger every race weekend when he was carlos’s teammate, so he clocks it instantly and pulls him aside. “you didn’t? there’s no way-“ and oscar immediately knows what he’s talking about and lifts it up to show it off like a trophy, “it was too small for my fingers.” and lando’s kind of jealous because he may or may not have tried asking her out once or twice. but that fades as soon as he realizes carlos is going to notice immediately too. he’s extremely protective over her because their dad was never always off racing and he’s a few years older than her, she’s like oscar’s age or a year younger maybe?? idk she’s just baby and carlos will protect her until he dies. he’s vetting every boyfriend; running background checks and hiring private investigators to find their ex girlfriends and interview them before they get his approval to date his little sister.

carlos noticed it hours later, when oscar, lando, and him are in a press conference together. lando keeps laughing out of nowhere and carlos keeps asking what he’s laughing at, which makes him laugh more. they almost make it to the end without him noticing it. oscar gets asked a question and he drops the pendant he’s been sucking on from between his lips. carlos had noticed the imprint of something under his shirt earlier and out of the corner of his eye saw him pull it out of his shirt and then put it in his mouth. immediately carlos recognizes it and knows exactly why his sister wasn’t wearing her ring when he saw her that morning. he thought it was weird when oscar suddenly put the pendant between his lips, but he realizes oscar had done it so he would see it. lando notices his shocked stare and bursts out laughing again. oscar’s smirking while answering the question about the upcoming race. carlos is holding himself back from pummeling oscar on camera, and as soon as they’re saying the conference is over, lando’s standing up and blocking him as he tries to launch himself at oscar.

everyone is so confused about what’s going on, but lando and oscar are laughing while carlos hurls threats and insults, and lando holds him back. unfortunately the cameras are still rolling and catch carlos saying oscar defiled his baby sister. somehow oscar gets out of the conference room and is whisked away by his team to ask him what is going on and what carlos is talking about? and he just can’t stop grinning because he got exactly the reaction he was looking for.

carlos finding his sister and dragging her away to his drivers room and asking her why? why him of all people. she knows anyone on the grid would bow down before her if she asked. so why did she fuck the one man he hates? and she’s like “oh my god don’t say fuck. it’s not like that.” and he asks, “what’s it like then? why do you think he did this? do you think it was anything more than a fuck to him?” and that makes her so sad, she starts tearing up and backing away from him because he’s never said anything like that to her before. she’s regretting everything and doubting everything oscar’s said to her the entire season, how perfect and kind he’s been, all the nights she laid in bed thinking about how maybe she could bring them together. her and lando could work together and make them get along. but all that is crushed hearing carlos’s words. he immediately regrets them of course, he still thinks they are true but wishes he never said them to her. he tries to grab her but she’s already out of his drivers room and when he follows her, she’s already gone.

he’d search until someone finally says they saw her leave with oscar and he’s even angrier because his words pushed her right into his arms, where he didn’t want her. he just texts his manager that he’s leaving and wonders what excuse oscar gave to get out of his media duties. he’s calling her the entire ride back to his hotel, and then he gets there and remembers that the mclaren drivers are in a different hotel and that’s definitely where they went. he has no clue where she is, probably for the first time ever. he goes to the hotel bar and has a drink as he spams her with calls until they stop going through. he calls lando but lando won’t tell him anything, apparently oscar and his sister swore him to secrecy when they left and she was sobbing and begged him not to tell her brother.

oscar wouldn’t know what to do when she shows up in his drivers room crying but he knows carlos has to be near and he doesn’t fancy getting his ass beat so he books it. lando covers for him after seeing the state she’s in. oscar’s got three sisters so he knows how to console a crying woman, he stops at a store and leaves her in the car to fetch chocolates and flowers and whatever else he sees that she might like before he takes her back to his hotel room. she cries for an hour before he finds out what’s wrong. she’s cried all her tears away and has gone through a box of tissues before she finally tells him what carlos said and how his words hurt her but it’s the thought that oscar would use her like that, make her fall for him just to get under carlos’s skin. she tells him that she knows he wouldn’t do that, that while he acts all cold and reserved with everyone else he’s completely different when they’re alone, and she know’s that’s the real him. then she’s cupping his cheeks and he’s thinking about how pretty she looks after crying, and she’s asking him to promise her he wasn’t lying to her like carlos said. and he actually feels something, he doesn’t know what the unfamiliar tug in his stomach is, guilt? pain? love? he tells himself it’s not the last one as he promises her that he wasn’t lying and wraps her up in his arms and tells her to go to bed, because he’s not going anywhere. the kiss he presses to the crown of her head makes her trust his words, no matter how untrue the first half is.

#ask #🌷 anon #oscar piastri smut #op81 #idk what to tag this as #tag later #op81/cs16 sister au

[angsthology]

Pay Attention to Things That Most People Ignore ☆ LS2

logan sargeant is most definitely not most people. it was time he started learning how

characters/pairings; daughter of poseidon!reader, chiron, mr. d, son of apollo!logan, theo (oc), son of athena!oscar.

warnings; monsters, typical pjo-type violence, logan is hopeless but that’s okay! some chb innacurracy sorry i havent read the books in a while, err very rushed writing im sorry, LAWD this is a mess i tell u 😭 perhaps i hate it — 3k words.

a/n; is the title... an all-american bitch lyric? yes. why? im not good and titles and i went to that song in instinct... for no reason. also this was based on a request — though i do admit its a little bit different as i would (hopefully) be making a part 2 hehe. by now im realizing how this title prob has nothin to do with the story

Over the years, she’s come to accept her life. Did it hurt when it felt like her entire life ended? Of course. Does it still hurt when she turns on the television to see them basically rubbing it on her face? —Whatever.

In theory, she probably could’ve gotten away with it had she not been a daughter of one of the big three—thanks a lot, dad. —but it was proven one too many times that it was not safe for her or any of the other kids. If it didn’t put anyone else’s life at risk, she would’ve disobeyed her mother, she really would (she was a child, she really hasn’t grasped the full concept of what other people would feel).

But, you know, oh well.

It’s sixteen years later and she still has that lingering grudge in the back of her head as the screen plays another Grand Prix — another Grand Prix she could’ve probably been a part of.

She tried, she really tried so hard to forget about it, to let go of it, but again, it was proven to be way too hard to let go of something she had an actual chance of, an actual good chance.

Though it might be hard to let go, she couldn’t really complain much about the life she actually had now.

Sure, it gets pretty lonely sometimes being a forbidden child, there weren’t exactly much of them (that are known and living at camp). But she had everyone else, despite practically being an only child at camp, to her everyone else there were her little siblings—of course, that probably has something to do with the fact that she was the oldest camper and the one who has been there longest.

When she heard a set of the all-too-familiar clops her heart dropped from its current fast-paced beating.

She quickly closed your laptop shut, cringing when you heard how loud of a sound it had made. That was it. She didn’t even try hiding her disappointment in herself. She slowly emerged from under the blanket with her lips tightly-wound shut, bracing herself with whatever the Centaur will have to say, her mind playing a quick telepathic farewell to her laptop.

“Hello, Y/N.”

She sighed, “Chiron.”

“Where and how?”

She swallowed the pre-existing nerves in her throat, “Mr. D.”

He hummed in response, so she continued.

“A pack of Heineken and two bottles of Jack Daniels.”

“Hm, good picks.” She responded lowly under her breath with a small ‘yeah’ as Chiron walked closer to the head of her bed near the bed-side table—his hooves making clopping noises each step.

The silence was taking too long to her liking so she just went to get it over with, “So, you’re gonna take it away from me?” she paused, then mumbling under her breath for herself, “—it’s probably another Red Bull win, anyway.”

Apparently, it was loud enough for the Centaur to hear, making him chuckle.

Surprisingly, he didn’t mention anything else about the laptop, “Who do you support?”

Hearing the question quickly made her look up from her fidgeting hands to see the smile on his face, she screwed her brows in confusion as she continues to look at Chiron for—something. Then, realizing that he was still waiting for an answer, she shook her head.

“Uhm—well, uh—”

“You think that Lando will ever get a win?”

That seemed to loosen her up, “Ugh, Gods, I hope. I’m getting exhausted over here—you know, sometimes I really wish I could ask the Oracle about it.”

He chuckled then which made her crack a smile.

When it died down, Chiron looked at her smiling face. He couldn’t help but frown a little, he knew how she felt about racing, he knew how she still feels about it.

“Y/N.”

She looks up at him, “Yeah?”

“So, I am aware that your birthday is nearing…”

“I mean… why wouldn’t you be? I’m here all-year-round.”

Chiron cleared his throat at her interruption, giving her a look.

“Sorry.”

He acknowledged and continued, “I am also aware that it lines up with a certain event…”

She raised an eyebrow it that, almost guessing what that said ‘event’ was.

“So,” he stopped, initially had her thinking he was just pausing but when he left out the door of her cabin she raised her hands as if saying ‘what gives?’

Seconds passed and it seemed like Chiron wasn’t going to come back any time soon so instead she stumbled off of her bed to quickly catch up to the Centaur that was headed to a building—the girl almost caught up to him, almost following him into the building but he was already back out in a good few seconds, stopping her right in front of the set of stairs, raising both her hands in question once more, “You just left. ‘So’, what?”

“I have it arranged that you will be attending the Miami Grand Prix.” He smiled as he handed her a lanyard.

She swore her eyes looked like it could’ve popped out of their sockets in a matter of seconds. She couldn’t believe what she was holding; a paddock pass. She couldn’t believe Chiron had done this for her considering how careful of a man (well, half-man) he is especially with her being a forbidden child. This was about to turn into the best birthday yet.

When she looked up to the smiling Chiron, her mouth still hung open in shock but her arms immediately wrapped around the man’s body in a bone-crushing hug.

She didn’t know how many ‘thank you’s that spilled out of her mouth but next thing she knew he was hugging her back with a chuckle escaping his lips.

After a few more ‘thank you’s from her, she pulled away smiling at him, “I thought you’d rather keep me here forever, why now?”

He cleared his throat, “Well, you are turning twenty-one, not many of you reach that kind of age—don’t tell them I said that—so I’d like to make it a bit more special.”

Still smiling, she looked at the paddock pass in her hand again, “You don’t know how much I appreciate this, Chi. Thank you, again.”

Being there felt… odd… unnatural.

She always thought if she were ever walking through the paddocks she would be walking as a driver.

What was even more odd was she felt her senses tingling, like she was being watched.

It was a bustling crowded place with many more interesting people compared to her, so it was weird to her that she felt like she was being watched of all people.

But alas, she brushed it off. It didn’t feel like anything bad—if it were, she would know—so she’s just going to have to save that thought for later.

She had to remind herself why she’s here; daydream in real-time of what could’ve been.

Yeah, she weren’t really keen on letting that go.

That is, until she was into her head she failed to notice the person—and group of people that came with said person—she was running into.

Before she knew it, a strong arm was holding her back with too much force for her liking, the action itself almost kicking in her self defense instinct until the person she did bump into pushed the hand away.

He was now talking to her, she assumed, but she was too focused on the person who had pushed her away.

Something about him felt… off. He was what she would count as freakishly huge for a normal human being, her eyes couldn’t help but recalculate the large man over and over until eventually the person that has been trying to get her attention snaps her out of it.

“Sorry, that’s Theo, he’s like that. I swear he doesn’t mean any harm.”

The scowl she hadn’t realized that made it’s way to her face slowly dropped as she slowly move her gaze to the person that was talking to her.

When their eyes met, she swore she saw a flash of something pass by his expression.

“Yeah,” she finally let go of this ‘Theo’ person and found her words, “Sorry I bumped into you.”

“That’s fine.” There was a brief silence across them until he cleared his throat, “I’m Logan, by the way.”

“Yeah, I know. You drive for Williams.” She replied flatly.

He cleared his throat again, scanning her for the shortest moment, “Do I know you?”

She looked to his eyes again with a small squint. “Most likely not. Good luck, bye.”

Before he could say anything else she was already speed-walking away. And for some odd reason, Logan found himself watching her walk away before getting pulled away himself just in the same time as the girl turned around to give a watchful eye.

It was getting annoying. This was supposed to be a weekend to enjoy but she could not help but feel that uneasiness creeping up on her. Over the years she had somewhat mastered the ability—well more the ability mastering her—of sensing bad things, whether that was events or creatures alike.

So, to simply put that together, that’s how she found herself sneaking around the Williams garage. Not hospitality, garage.

From years of quests here and there, many hours of weapons training, and not to mention capture the flag schemings with other campers, she had mastered the skill of being sneaky. It really did work well in her favor.

What she didn’t expect was to be completely entranced the moment she got into the busy garage; it was the first time she was seeing a real life-size F1 car in real-time.

Everything was so enchanting to her, it felt like she was reliving her childhood dreams all over again. When she had gone through with her plan, she didn’t really register the fact that she was going to go face to face with an actual working Formula One garage.

She really tried to stay focused on the task at hand but it really was in her blood to be unfocused.

“Hey!”

Somehow, just somehow, she had heard his voice over the loud noises around her and just somehow, she knew he was addressing her.

Immediately, she tried to hide or duck behind something—anything just so she didn’t have to face him.

Before she knew it a hand was gripping her upper arm and pulling her somewhere quieter and she was met with green eyes that looked at her with suspicion.

“Are you like a fan or something?”

She was taken aback by his words.

“…what?”

“Are you following me?”

“What—no. I mean not you specifically—why did I say that.” she whispered the last part to herself. If she was being honest, she hasn’t really been brushing up her skills in socializing with anyone else that weren’t the campers.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing! I—”

Their conversation—if you could’ve called it that anyway—was interrupted by the same man she had been suspecting from earlier.

“There you are.” It was the first time she was hearing his voice and just by that she already knew that they were going to be in big trouble. His voice was low and unnerving, saying the words as if he’s been searching for them not for worried purposes rather unfortunate ones.

Logan didn’t seem to have the same feeling as her as he looked more relieved among other things to see the man. “Theo!” he greeted while throwing his hands in the air, “What’s up, man?”

Fortunately for Logan, Theo wasn’t exactly paying attention to him instead looking at the girl in front of him instead.

When he noticed he tried to interfere, “Oh, no, don’t worry about her, she’s not harmful.” He then realized he didn’t exactly know this girl so he looked at her with questioning eyes, “You aren’t, right?”

Except her focus didn’t waver from the big man that looked at her with a stare that tried to kill.

Logan, still clueless, looked between the two back and forth in confusion until Theo said something that really caught his attention.

“Daughter of Poseidon.” Theo growled.

Logan’s head couldn’t snap towards her faster.

“Shit.” She mumbled under her breath.

Before they knew it, she had grabbed a hold of his hand and running away with it, Logan still very much in shock at this new information he attained.

Through empty places and crowded ones, the girl forgot that the man she had ahold of weren’t just anyone but a very real and hard-to-miss Formula One driver. Sure, he was a rookie but a driver nonetheless.

But she couldn’t care less about the attention she was gaining; she was far too busy running for her life than think about cameras and the public.

“What the hell was he talking about? Poseidon?!” she didn’t answer his panicked question so he continued instead, “Are you a half-blood too?”

The ‘too’ in his question was what finally caught her attention but still, she didn’t answer him, only cursing herself for not noticing one when she saw one.

Just when she thought they had lost them, the monster once disguised as Theo was standing there at the end of the opening, she and Logan had slipped in.

Next thing she knew she was fumbling around trying to fight off the apparent Giant that was Theo.

“What the hell are you doing there, mind a little help over here?” she yelled over at Logan who was pretty much… useless in the corner.

He continued to panic, looking for anything he could use to get the Giant off of her.

Suddenly, while she was struggling to get the Giant’s grip off of her, the force stopped as a cloud of mist poofed where the monster was once before. She quickly scrambled herself up and was met with a figure in McLaren clothing holding a gold-dust colored weapon pointing at her.

“Oscar Piastri?!”

He didn’t answer her, dagger still pointing at her direction, “Who are you?”

Putting her hands out in defense she explained herself, “I respect that.” she commented, “I’m Y/N L/N, I am the daughter of Poseidon,” then she cautiously pointed at the Australian, “I’m assuming you’re a half-blood too.” she nodded at him, “Who do you belong to?”

Oscar then slowly lowered his weapon, his trust building by the minute, “Athena.”

Then both of them turn to Logan simultaneously.

“No!” he got defensive immediately, “I want to know what just happened!” he pointed accusingly.

All of a sudden, it just finally hit Oscar, “Poseidon?!”

The sea god’s daughter made a face and ignored the Australian, “What do you mean what just happened? Typical demigod stuff!”

The look on his face made her double-take, “You… do have occasional encounters with monsters here and there… right?”

When Logan’s expression doesn’t change, she turns to Oscar.

“I have this for a reason.” He said slowly, showing her the dagger. “—and, well, if I’m being honest, that has never happened before.”

“Shit.” she shakes her head in disappointment then pulling out her phone, “I need to make a phone call.”

She left the two men by themselves and went ahead as the line rings a couple of times before getting an answer.

After a brief conversation—that will continue later for details—the girl locked her phone and walked towards the two drivers.

“You’re coming with me this summer. It will not be up for debate and don’t worry about your… duties, I have it covered.”

Logan was quick to stop her explanations, “Wait—what—no! At least explain what the hell that phone call was about. You can’t just drop all that on us and expect us to be okay with it.

She rolls her eyes, “I’ll explain later, right now, you two have a job to do.” They didn’t object to that, the three of them walking out the pretty-hidden space the Giant had decided to corner them before.

Oscar stopped just outside, “I can take care of myself if anything else decide to come out and attack me, you should probably go with him. And uh, I actually need to talk to you,” he pointed at her, “—later. Not exactly letting you off the hook that easily.”

She didn’t complain.

The two walked in silence, every once in a while getting stopped for a picture and such, until Logan speaks up.

“Apollo.”

She turned to him, eyebrow raised.

“My dad.”

“Oh.” She paused then comments, “Fitting.”

He didn’t know what it was in her voice, it didn’t sound exactly like a compliment but he wasn’t sure if it was an insult.

Whatever, he shrugged it off.

After that, they both went into their own train of thoughts.

Without noticing, they both sucked in a breath in unison.

“I’m sorry for—”

“I think you should—”

The two quickly stepped back from whatever it was they were going to say, heat rushing up their necks. They kept walking on the awkward silence that fell upon them until Logan re-focused his attention and remembering what she had said—well, what she almost said earlier.

“Wait—‘sorry’? What were you apologizing for?” he turned to her who was now ducking away from his eyes, her own focus stayed on her fidgeting hands.

She made a noise before finally finding her words, “It’s just—this always happens, you know. I’m a forbidden kid, I attract the worst kind of trouble there is for half-bloods. And earlier; I had brought it to you and Oscar.” he was going to say something to ease her guilt but she beat him to it, “I’m just glad that monster didn’t hurt any of you.” She threw her hands in the air, “I mean, it’s qualifying day for Gods sake! —maybe I shouldn’t go to the race tomorrow.” She mumbled the last part to herself, though not quietly enough that the driver didn’t hear.

Logan was taken aback by her statement, giving him an opening on his almost-offer.

“What—no! Why not?” he asked.

“Look, it’s bad enough that there’s two demigods in one place; adding a forbidden kid in the mix won’t really make it any better. I still want everyone to have a safe race. Who knows what kind of other monsters I could attract.”

From every point of view Logan could gather, it was simply a fact that this girl knows about their world far more than he did, far more than Oscar did, so he couldn’t really be the voice of judgement in whatever she had to say. But… he wanted her to stay.

It calmed him down for some reason, knowing someone shares the same—if not, worse—fate as you.

So, he tried to find a reason, a good reason to make her stay. Of course, he wasn’t a pro at this half-blood thing so he offered something that he was familiar with. He gave her a more… human reason.

“I think you should stay.” He blurted.

“Logan—”

“Dude—is it alright if I called you that?”

“Uh, go nuts.”

“You deserve to have some fun, watch a race! I’ll even have you as an official Williams guest!”

She hummed with a smile creeping up.

“And if you’re worried about trouble, that’s fine. We can always handle trouble! We are all trouble-bound any way, better face them now than later! Plus, I think it’d be good if you could teach us the basics early.”

She felt the warmth spread through her chest. It’s been a while since she felt someone so welcoming that wasn’t anyone within Camp Half-blood. It was nice. He was nice. Almost made her forget that she was in the place she was meant to be in.

Her heart felt wholesome, but didn’t make it show, her mouth couldn’t stop the comment from escaping her mouth instead.

“You really want me to stay, huh?”

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #ls2 #ls2 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #williams racing #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1

[yandere-kokeshi]

Hey, I only really need some short headcanons for this (but of course make it whatever length you want), but miles with a s/o who loves to cuddle and physical affection🥹 whenever going to bed, laying on his chest or opposite, holding hands, hugs, sleeping with ur head on his lap or opposite and hair playing and sorry im getting carried away ☹️

Thank you tho! always love whatever u write, I also do see that you’re not super touchy so if you don’t feel this one then that’s ok :)

Warnings: yandere behavior

A/N: Hi :)! You're not getting carried away and you've made me realize something. I don't usually write touchy readers due to my own experiences. I don't like being touched. I only like receiving gifts or words of affirmation.

But I know that touch is a huge part of relationships to some people so I hope you enjoy this. Ty for the request darling <3

In the beginning, Miles would slightly freeze up whenever you touched him. He wouldn’t know what to do other than touch your back but with awkward hands. Sweat and goosebumps appeared on his skin.

But the more you were touchy, the more Miles gradually began to acknowledge and swing around to your boundaries with touch.

He loves how affectionate you are. It makes him feel loved and appreciated. Sometimes being a hero is draining, and sometimes he just needs to be held, someone that can let him cry and tell him everything is okay.

He’s the definition of clingy. This boy cannot live without touching you in some way. He has to be kissing or hugging you, and at times, he may be overwhelming. When you least expect it, Miles comes behind you and kisses you, holding you as his hands fiddle with your shirt. If he could, he’d want to Koala hug you 24/7.

Whenever the both of you walk around Brooklyn, he always holds hands with you; his hands swinging back and forth with yours as he rambles on what to do. Occasionally, he’ll hold pinkies if he feels that his sweaty hands will gross you out.

Cuddles are really important to him. Never in his life would he deny your requests when you ask for them. The second he gets to your/or his apartment, you can bet that he’s scooping you up and making you lay on him on a bundle of blankets, wanting to know about your day.

With him on your lap, he doesn’t mind it. He’s more than happy to lay on your lap and let your fingers playfully boop his nose as he talks about things. However, Miles does like it when you’re on his lap, especially after a hard day of socializing.

Being able to run his fingers over your face, tracing your face, and watching you read a book, or be on your phone makes him realize how lucky he has it. By the time his mom comes in to tell him about dinner, both of you are passed out on each other.

When in his room, he loves drawing you whenever he has the chance to; although, he tries not to do it when you are in sight. In his sketchbook, he has a bunch of colored pages and thick pencil drawings of you in different areas and poses. Most things he draws of you are sleeping, smiling, and doing something funny on the same day with him.

If you by chance forget to hug him or kiss him before you leave, that entire day he’s thinking he did something wrong — Miles is chewing at his fingernails, gets snappy and grumpy at anyone, and sadly overthinks.

By the time he sees you again, he asks you straight up. And if you reassure him that you’re not? He’s so relieved that he’s on the verge of crying. He makes sure to hug you tightly, whispering in your ear how you scared him, and don’t do that again. He relies on your touch as comfort.

Gives you a bunch of piggyback rides. No matter what time or how many people are around, Miles is instinctively grabbing you and putting you on his back.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

#kokeshi!! #yandere blog #yandere x reader #yandere male #male yandere #yandere #yandere headcanons #kokeshi anons #anonymous asks #anon ask #anonymous #yandere miles morales x reader #yandere miles morales #yandere spider man #yandere spiderman #yandere spiderverse #yandere atsv #yandere atsv x reader #yandere across the spiderverse #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x yn #miles morales #miles spiderman #miles spiderverse #miles morales atsv #across the spiderverse

[zedleaked]

[APPARENTLY PEOPLE HERE WANTED TO KNOW THE HUMAN AXIS LORE SO IM JUST GOING TO COPY MY TWITTER POST HERE…] BASIC GIST IS THAT THIS IS JUST A GENERAL HUMAN AU. MONSTERS AND HUMANS SWAPPED. WOWIE!

ANYWAYS READ MORE FOR AXIS

AXIS ORIGIN IS STILL A BIT FUZZY. HERE HE'S LIKE CHUJIN'S ADOPTED SON [GENDER NEUTRAL],, CATGIRLTRICKSTER ON TWITTER SUGGESTED CHUJIN JUST FINDING YOUNG AXIS IN A PIPE OR SOMETHING AND I THINK THATS REALLY FUNNY... THOUGH HIS ORIGINS WOULD BE VAGUE. IF ASKED HE'D SAY HE DOESN'T REMEMBER.

ALSO NOTE BEFORE I FORGET. AXIS WAS JUST BORN WITH ONE LEG. THERE IS NO LORE REASON TO WHY ITS MISSING, IT IS JUST THE WAY HE IS. CHUJIN MAKES HIM A ROBOTIC LEG SO HE CAN HAVE AN EASIER TIME.

SURE I COULD GIVE A FUCKED REASON AS TO WHY HE DOESNT HAVE IT BUT I DONT FEEL LIKE IT.

AXIS WOULD BE AN APPRENTICE UNDER CHUJIN SIMILAR TO MARTLET [I NEEDA DRAW MARTLET EVENTUALLY] PLUS IN GAME THERE'S FLAVOR TEXT ABOUT HIM FLIPPING THROUGH THE ROYAL GUARD HANDBOOK IN HIS MIND. HONESTLY. MARTLET AND AXIS BEING FRIENDS THROUGH SHARING THE SAME INTEREST IS SILLY...

HE'D WANT TO TRAIN HIMSELF TO BECOME A ROYAL GUARD OR AT LEAST A PROTECTOR TO PAYBACK CHUJIN FOR TAKING HIM IN. HE'S GOING TO PROTECT HIS FATHER AND HUMANKIND. IT'S HIS BIGGEST GOAL IN LIFE.

STEAMWORKS STILL EXISTS. ITS JUST CHUJIN HADNT BUILT THE AXIS MODELS IN THIS AU BECAUSE. YOU KNOW.

MAYBE HE SAW POTENTIAL IN HUMAN AXIS, SEEING HOW DETERMINED HE IS TO GROW STRONGER AND PROTECT PEOPLE. CHUJIN WOULD WANT HIM TO HONE HIS SKILLS TO BECOME SOMETHING... BIG.

IN A WAY. AXIS WAS A PEEK INTO WHAT HUMANS COULD BECOME AND WHAT THAT COULD DO FOR HUMAN SOCIETY UNDERGROUND.

MEANWHILE AXIS IS ENAMORED BY STEAMWORKS AND JUST CHUJIN'S WORK IN GENERAL. HE REALLY ADMIRES ROBOTS, HE THINKS ABOUT WHAT ITS LIKE IF HE HAD ROBOTIC MODIFICATIONS.

AND LESS LORE RELEVANT BUT HE ALSO HAS CONNECTIONS TO KANAKO TOO! THEY ARE THE SIBLINGS EVER. THOUGH IVE BEEN WONDERING HOW CEROBA NOT KNOWING AXIS IN STEAMWORKS WOULD WORK. IT'D BE KINDA WEIRD FOR CHUJIN TO KEEP A WHOLE ASS CHILD SECRET FROM HER.

THEYVE PROBABLY SEEN EACH OTHER AND NEVER HAD MUCH SIGNIFICANT

INTERACTIONS FOR THEM TO FULLY REMEMBER EACH OTHER. AXIS SPENDS A MAJORITY OF HIS TIME AT STEAMWORKS OR DOING ROYAL GUARD SHIT, AND WHEN HES NOT DOING THAT HES PROBABLY PLAYING WITH KANAKO [WHEN CEROBA ISNT AROUND]

AND WELL. WE HAD TO GET TO THIS PART EVENTUALLY. ONE DAY A MONSTER MAKES ITS WAY INTO THE UNDERGROUND AND STARTED KILLING PEOPLE. DALV [WHO I ALSO NEED TO DRAW] GOT CAUGHT UP IN THE FRAY WHILE PLAYING WITH KANAKO [AND AXIS TOO]. UPON SEEING HIS FRIENDS GET HURT. SOMETHING CLICKS.

AXIS HAD TRAINED UP TO THIS POINT. THIS WAS HIS MOMENT. HE HAD TO SAVE THE PEOPLE FROM THE THREAT IN FRONT OF THEM. INSTINCTS KICK IN AND HE GOES IN TO FIGHT THE MONSTER WHILE DALV TAKES KANAKO TO SAFETY.

THIS MONSTER WAS TOUGH. HE WAS ALMOST KILLED. BUT HE HAD TO PERSEVERE.

SOMETHING JUST ACTIVATED IN HIS SOUL.

HE FELT A SURGE OF POWER. THE ONLY THING HE KNEW IN THAT MOMENT WAS TO.

GET. RID. OF. THE. THREAT.

IN FRONT OF HIM WAS JUST. A HEADLESS BODY THAT SLOWLY FADED INTO DUST.

THAT... HE DIDNT MEAN TO GO THAT FAR.

SIMILAR TO CLOVER IN GENOCIDE, AXIS HAD RAPIDLY LEVELED UP AND SHOT A POWERFUL ATTACK AT THE MONSTER IN RESPONSE TO ALMOST DYING. HE NEEDED TO KEEP GOING NO MATTER WHAT.

STILL. THE CONSEQUENCES OF HIS ACTIONS LAID HEAVY ON HIM.

HE HAD KILLED A LIVING, BREATHING THING.

SOON AFTER CHUJIN WALKED IN ON THE SCENE COMPLETELY HORRIFIED. AXIS, ASHAMED OF WHAT HE HAD DONE RAN TOWARD STEAMWORKS TO ISOLATE HIMSELF, SIMILAR TO DALV.

SURE, HE HAD SAVED PEOPLE FROM THAT MONSTER BUT DID HE HAVE TO BE SO GRUESOME?

CHUJIN RAN AFTER HIM, TRYING TO GET HIM BACK

CHUJIN FINDS HIM AT STEAMWORKS, WALLOWING IN JUST. EVERY EMOTION.

HE TRIES TO COMFORT HIM THOUGH AXIS IS STILL INSISTENT ON NOT GOING OUT.

THE TWO REACHED THE COMPROMISE THAT: AXIS WOULD GUARD AND PROTECT STEAMWORKS AND THAT CHUJIN WOULD CHECK UP ON HIM EVERY NOW AND THEN.

SO THATS WHAT HE DID. HE STAYED AT STEAMWORKS, WATCHING OVER THE PLACE AND ITS ROBOTS FOR….. AGES.

EVENTUALLY CHUJIN'S CHECK UPS GET MORE SPARSE UNTIL JUST. NOTHING.

AXIS NOTICES TOO THAT LESS AND LESS SCIENTISTS ARE PRESENT AT STEAMWORKS. UNTIL THERE IS NO ONE THERE.

WHEN ASKED IF HE WAS GOING TO LEAVE

TOO HE SAID

"NO. MY FATHER AND I HAD REACHED THE AGREEMENT THAT I WOULD STAY AND PATROL THIS AREA, AND THAT I WILL DO." THERE WAS NO CONVINCING HIM TO LEAVE. SO THE OTHERS RELUCTANTLY LEFT HIM BE.

DAY BY DAY HE WATCHES STEAMWORKS FLOOD AND DECAY. WHILE HE STAYS THERE TRYING TO KEEP UP THE AGREEMENT BETWEEN HIS FATHER AND HIMSELF.

NO ONE HAD TOLD HIM.

ONE DAY THOUGH HE FINDS THAT STEAMWORKS SUDDENLY ACTIVATES RIGHT BEFORE SEEING A MONSTER ONCE AGAIN.

OH HE REMEMBERS THE PAST WELL. IN THIS AU IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE FOR HIM TO GET HIS MEMORY ERASED.

WHILE THE EVENTS PLAY OUT MOSTLY THE SAME COMPARED TO NORMAL UTY.

AXIS SEEMS MORE HESITANT THAN USUAL. AND PROBABLY MONOLOGUING A LITTLE SIMILAR TO WHAT DALV DOES

BEING A HUMAN. HE POSES LESS OF A THREAT ON HIS OWN. HOWEVER. MY GUY SETS UP HOME ALONE TYPE TRAPS N SHIT TO TRY AND CATCH CLOVER INSTEAD [PART OF HIS ROYAL GUARD TRAINING!!.

ONLY RESORTING TO USING "ROBOTIC MODIFICATIONS" HE HAD FOUND WHEN CLOVER REALLY [ticks] HIM OFF.

AND YES. HE STILL GETS A ROBOT SPOUSE IF A PACIFIST PLAYTHROUGH HAPPENS. HUMAN AXIS IS OBJECTUM. ITS REAL.

SO YEAH THAT IS ALL THE THINGS I THINK.

HOLY SHIT THIS THREAD IS LONG. FEW PEOPLE WILL READ THIS I THINK BUT I STILL WANTED TO GET STUPID AU THOUGHTS OUT. UH. YEAH HOPE THAT IS GOOD OR SMTH.. FEEL FREE TO ASK QUESTIONS 🥺

#undertale yellow #undertale yellow spoilera #uty #axis #axis 014 #axis undertale yellow #axis uty #gijinka #Zed’s art

[peachy-wolfhard]

Dating Leo II

a/n: I wanted to add more after I posted part one so here it is Bone Apple Teeth, I love leo sm so its LONG

Let me know if you would like to be on my tmnt taglist!

Warnings: swearing, grandchildren mention (splinter is gonna splinter), illness mention, insomnia, mentions of slapping leos bald head

Word count: 738 -woof

Insomnia gang

This turtle physically cannot sleep

When you don't spend the night he is CONSTANTLY texting you everything that comes to mind

“y/n…why is pizza a circle?” “idk lee can i come over :3” “yeth pls HURRY IM DYING HERE WITHOUT U”

Lying in his bed, cuddling, matching eyemasks ON, fan ON

Even with all of that, nothing works

The nights that the both of you are actually able to sleep he has a grasp on you

Holds you so close to him all the time, you guys are joined at the hip

Everyone besides Mikey and Splinter thinks you guys are gross

“You can't even say their names apart now it's ALWAYS Leo and y/n. You can't separate them they will DIE without each other”

“Calm down Mikey please you're scaring Shelldon”

Splinter is…well Splinter. He stays in your guys' relationship, with how dramatic you guys are he doesn't need his soaps

He loves to show you baby pictures of the boys esp the ones of Leo

((cough cough he definitely mentions grandchildren like the old man he is))

Bites all the time like anytime anywhere

Making breakfast peacefully listening to music- CHOMP

Getting ready for work- CHOMP

Dr. Delicate Touch has to intervene

Play fights with you in slow-motion

(slow motion voice) “yyy/nnn iiiimm goooinggg tooo kick your aaaasssss”

(also slow motion voice) “im gooonnnaaa kick yours firrrst”

HAND! HOLDING!

Initially, it started as a way to keep Leo from running off when exploring places, but then it turned into a regular thing

“My love, light of my life, future spouse eHEM!”

“What Leo”

“WHERE’S YOUR HAND I AM GOING TO DIE WITHOUT YOUR HAND IN MINE!! I ALREADY FEEL WEAK PLEASE I AM SUFFERING”

Absolute drama queen and don't get me started when he’s sick

Picture those old paintings of the sick children in bed, he’s that but dialed up to eleven

All he wants is cuddles and daytime television and don't you DARE come in between him and his Maury

Giving him medicine is surprisingly easy maybe it’s because he’s so out of it or maybe he’s just in love he’d let you do anything to him

But if you’re ever sick he does the exact same for you

If you fight medicine (just like me fr) he’s NOT afraid to use those ninja moves to get you to take your meds

Loves it when you read to him no matter what you are reading

Manga? Sign him up! Horror book? Let's get spooky! Sad book? I'll get the tissues! He just loves to hear your voice especially if you do different voices for the characters but not overly comedic voices, he’s here for the story!

Falls asleep listening to your voice with his head on your lap 99% of the time

Going to the Hidden City for date nights and getting up to absolute mischief

(having to then call Raph to come get you guys because you pissed someone off and just kicked their butt)

Speaking of the Hidden City! During their break in the Hidden City (when everyone gets arrested) you join Leo at the spa

After he gets kicked out he BEGS you to go to the creepy spa across the street with him

“Sorry sweetheart I too am in DIRE need of some relaxation plus it’s not often I’m in an exclusive club”

The moment he shows up with that gorgeous hair you’re suspicious

Texts you a selfie of his new hair with the creepy ass background

“Whatcha think? Even more handsome than normal? ;)” “go back to being bald i miss slapping ur bald head :(“

Anyway when he starts “sleepwalking” your immediate reaction is “Maybe it's the wig” but quickly forget all about it due to relaxation

“Um… yyyy/nnnn could you please help me out with one teeny tiny situation…? Please?”

Now you and Leo are on the case!

“Ooo lala finally some privacy ;)”

“Don't touch me until you’re bald AND we figure this out”

“Pwetty pwease? JUST ONE!”

“Fine, ONE kiss”

After the evil hair reveal and fighting with your boyfriend’s hair he's finally bald again

Leo explains the massage guy’s deal but it falls on deaf ears

“Hey, who’s that guy?” “He'sthe non-member we kicked out earlier!”

“I bet he and that human are the thieves. Call the cops”

After a quick stay in jail, you’re now peacefully back home

#rottmnt x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #tmnt x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles x reader #rise leo #rise leo x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #leo x reader #masterlist

[ewanmitchellconnoisseur]

"Loved, Wanted, Unforgettable"

A/N: This is my take on an alternative ending for the wonderful story "If I Had the Love I Needed" by the amazing @thought--bubble! You can read Part 1 here and Part 2 here. I strongly recommend reading them both first! You will not regret it!

Summary: Will comes by your house franticly asking you to pack a bag. You find out what he did and that he's leaving town...and he wants you to go with him.

Tw: ANGST ANGST ANGST (for no reason...life is just too good right now let's mix it up 😂), smut, unprotected sex, possible impregnation, oral sex (m receiving), facefucking, fingering, praise, creampie

A/N: And just so we are all clear I did get Jess's permission before using her plot!!

After he finishes speaking you stare into his eyes searching for a hint that this is a joke. Maybe this was a prank?

"Please. Pack a bag." He holds your hands enveloping them in his own.

"I- I can't just leave Will...my aunt...I can't just leave her." He can feel his heart break as you speak. "I love you. So much. But there has to be another way-"

"There is no other way!" He cuts you off dropping your hands angrily. "Matt will go to the police and I will end up going to jail!." He sits down on your bed running his hands through his hair panicking. He thought you would have said yes without hesitation.

"And what do you think will happen if we get caught on the run? You'll go to jail for even longer...its better you take your chances now. You won't get as much time." His leg is bouncing up and down quickly and his breathing is coming out erraticly. You kneel in front of him and you place your hand on his knees holding them down. "You should turn yourself in...show remorse for whatever it is you did."

He looked up at you tears prickling his eyes. He knew you were right. Running would only get him so far and in the end, he could end up getting you time as well as an accomplice.

"I- I don't wanna be without you." His voice cracked as he spoke bringing tears to your own eyes. "You made me feel wanted, loved and unforgettable." You smile at his use of words. The same ones he used the night he made you his.

"I'll always want you. Always love you, and I'll never forget you." He knows you mean it yet it doesn't reduce any of the pain he's feeling in his chest. You sit on his lap straddling him as his hands hold your waist and his forehead rests against your chest. "I'll wait for you...I know it will be long. But I'll wait." He looks up at you hope glimmering in his eyes.

"Really? You'd do that?" You nod and kiss him passionately knowing it will be one of your lasts.

"Of course, I would. You're my person." Will peppers your face with kisses feeling his mood lighten slightly. He's willing to go through years in jail if it means coming back home to you.

"Marry me." The words come out of his mouth before he has a chance to stop them. "I-I mean...you don't have to but..I'd really li-" You shut him up with a kiss as you nod your head instantly.

"Yes. Yes. Yes." Each word is followed by a kiss somewhere on his face. Will didn't move an inch the one word repeating in his mind. You watch his face waiting for a reaction. All he does is stare at you that same look painted on his face.

You squeal slightly as Will picks you up quickly and has you lying on your back followed by a hungry kiss. You both make quick work of undressing each other. Will's hands explore your body, he commits every curve and shape to memory.

You reach down and palm at Will's cock which earns you a moan.

"I- I want to make you feel good." You pant as Will leaves hickeys across your chest.

"You do. You always do." You roll your eyes and lift his head up so he can see your face.

"Not like that...I want to...I want to suck your cock." You rush out that last part as heat rises to your cheek in embarrassment. Will smiles and then laughs which makes you frown and turn away from him. "Don't laugh at me..."

"I'm sorry baby. Im sorry." He turns you back to face him. "I'd love for you to suck my cock." He leans up off of you and rolls over to your side sitting up against your bed's headboard. You move in between his lap.

"You have to teach me how. I've never done it before." Will holds your chin between his finger and thumb and leans down giving you a quick kiss.

"You're too cute." He leans back up and runs a thumb over your lips while the other strokes his cock slowly. "Just watch for your teeth. And oddly enough think of it as an ice lollie. But, no teeth!" You smile and nod.

You take your hand and you copy what Will was doing before pumping him in your hand. You stare at the slit on the head of his penis and decide to slowly run your tongue over it. You look up to find Will's mouth agape as he watches you explore this new experience.

You finally take him in your mouth. You've seen videos online but you've always wondered what it would actually be like to give someone head.

"oh- fuck." You look up at Will. His head is thrown back and his mouth is still wide open. You feel a sense of pride from being able to make him feel this good. He's always so focused on your pleasure and never his own. "Hollow your cheeks, baby."

You do as he says and get another groan out of him. Will pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail and starts pushing you down on his own helping you take him further down your throat.

"Breathe through your nose and tap my leg if ts too much." You nod your head and Will wastes no time shoving his cock further down your throat till he's hitting the back. You moan around his cock which only makes his hips stutter as the sound is better than any sound you've ever made.

He quickens still trying not to go too fast so as to not overwhelm you but still wanting to chase that feeling. "Oh fuck I love you so much...i love you, I love you, I love you." You feel his cock twitch in your mouth and you know he's close. As a chain of fucks escapes his lips you take him as far back as you can and hold him there. Flattening your tongue so they can reach a bit of his balls. "Yes- fuck! Just like that.".

You feel your mouth fill with a warm liquid. Will pulls himself out of your mouth panting staring at your face. You make a show of swallowing his cum and showing him your empty mouth. He smiles and wipes your wet cheeks, you hadn't even noticed you were crying.

"Im not done with you yet." You notice Will is still just as hard as he was before. "There is something I want to try." He pulls you up so you're straddling him. "I want you to ride me."

Your face is quick to feel hot again under embarrassment. That was something you also hadn't done, unaware if you'd have the stamina to keep going. Will reaches down and runs a finger through your folds slipping one ever so easily inside.

"All wet just from sucking my cock?" You nod as he curls his finger into that spot only he ever manages to reach. "You gonna play with this pussy while im gone? Imagining it's me?"

"Y-yes yes." He adds another finger slowly pumping in and out of you.

"God im gonna miss this so fucking much." He uses his other hand to palm at one of your breasts while he sits up and takes your other nipple in his mouth. You meet the thrusts of his finger feeling the heel of his hand rub against your clit.

"Fuck...im so close. Don't stop." The pressure in your stomach gets tighter as you feel yourself getting lost in all the pleasure.

"Cum for me baby. Cum on my fingers." You lean down and kiss Will moaning into his mouth as you cum around his fingers clamping down on them. "Thats it, good girl."

He slowly removes his fingers and wipes your wetness all over his cock. He lifts your hips slightly not waiting for you to come down from your high. One of his hands holds your waist while the other holds his cock just below you. "Sit on it."

You slowly sink down on his cock till he's fully inside of you. You place both hands on his chest as you bounce on his cock not bothering to hold in any moans knowing your aunt is too drunk to wake up. Will holds onto your waist and fucks up into you matching your rhythm.

"You're doing so good baby." He sits up and his hands move to gripping your ass. Will knows your stamina won't last long. "Put your arms around me." Your head rests in the crook of his neck as you wrap your arms around him. He helps lower and lift you faster the only sounds filling the room are your moans and lewd wet noises.

"Fuck fuck fuck." You could feel his cock throbbing inside you and knew he was close. And Will could feel you clenching down on him signalling you near your end. "Cum with me baby."

You nod your head and search his lips for another hungry kiss. He ruts into you harder over and over until he feels you squeeze his cock harshly and moan into his mouth. He shoves himself deep inside you one last time and cums in you not remembering or caring that he isn't wearing a condom nor are you on any birth control.

Will lays back down not bothering to take himself out of you and lays you down on his chest.

"Give me 2 days. I'll tell Nan...get some stuff organized. Then I'll turn myself in."

And he did. 2 days later you were crying outside the police station giving him one last long and deep hug. He kissed your forehead repeatedly. Whispering for you to please stop crying for him.

"I love you so much, baby. Take care of Nan yeah?" He looks towards Leah and nods. She walks closer and takes your hand helping you to finally let go of Will. It was hard convincing her to come here but she ended up agreeing to for you.

"I love you too Will and I'll take care of her." He kisses your ring finger on top of the new tattoo you both got. Too broke to get a real engagement ring you convinced a buddy of his to do permanent wedding bands.

Will knew you two wouldn't be able to get married before the police would find him so you both opted to remain engaged until he got out of jail.

Will wipes the tears from his eyes as he turns and starts walking towards the police station.

"WIll! Wait!" You run back to him and he's quick to catch you carrying you in his arms as you give him one last kiss. Will holds you against him tightly wanting to remember this feeling.

Soon enough he slowly puts you back on the ground. No more words are needed and he turns and walks inside the station.

And so you watch as he walks away knowing you won't get to hold him again for a long time. The only person who ever made you feel loved, wanted and unforgettable.

Characters are not minors. Will is 18. Made a mistake earlier, my brain wanted to make him a minor so he wouldn't get a lot of time but I changed it.

A/N: Do any other writers out there feel like they write so much faster when they're fueled by delusions? I started this 2 hours ago...and somehow finished the whole thing!!!!

Please go and check out the original story here! It is honestly an amazing story and there isn't much Will fanfics out there! He deserves more love!!!

Tell me what you thought!

Taglist: @thought--bubble , @valeskafics

#;.ewan mitchell verse #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewanverse #ewan nation #ewan mitchell #will salad days fic #will salad days fanfic #will x reader #salad days

[sanjisblackasswife]

law with a s/o who has sensitive thighs???

Im in a Law mood so you asked this at the right time.💓

Law Finds Out You Have Sensitive Thighs (NSFW-ISH)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: A bit suggestive with kissing and touching, Law is a little tease, Oral sex implied, Established relationship

Law is 110% a thigh man. Absolutely canon, he told me after seeing my thighs.

He loves em, he just don’t know WHY he does.

Maybe it’s the way they jiggle, maybe because it’s not a very “sexual” area of the body, maybe it’s how they hug when they are constrains by socks, but regardless of the reason he loves thighs

You did however find out not too long after dating him he enjoys playing with your plushy legs.

They are his new pillows and stress relief balls whenever you are near

Unfortunately for you, that’s your weak spot.

Law isn’t a very sexual guy, he has sex most of the time only if you’re in the mood so you know when he plays with your skin he means so sexual intent behind it….most of the time

So it’s so awkward to contain your moans when you feel his soft cold hands rub against you.

“Law..” You say, but quickly clear your throat to stop yourself from slipping a moan out, you were sitting on his desk reading as your studious boyfriend was researching and he mindlessly did what he always does; grip and squeeze your inner thigh as you wear nothing, but one of his big white shirts. “You okay?”

“Hm?” He looks up at you, glasses tilted on the tip of his nose and his face being supported by his hand he looks at you and your leg, “Yeah..you hungry?”

“No…I um…forget it…”

Law hated when you did that, sighing harshly he puts his glasses down and turns to your side, “What? Tell me.”

“Just…”You hum, seeing his thumb move on you, you had to take a breather from his touch it was getting so bad, and it didn’t help that his hand was so close to your lady parts. “Don’t take it the wrong way, but…when you touch my thighs I um…it …feels…overwhelming.”

He furrowed his brows, really? He’s been doing this for how ling and you tell him this now?

Law then insisted he should stop, but you protest that he shouldn’t, you just needed him to know about your

“dilemma”

“Well what do you want me to do? Stop touching you?”

“No! No! I want you to touch me just…I—oh.”

It was sudden, but Law would be lying to see the shyness of your face to not look a little attractive to him. He gets up from his chair to squat in front of you and pries your legs apart, your back straightens up feeling the cold wind hit your panties, embarrassed to find out you’ve gotten so turned on from just his touch.

“Seems like you like my hands a lot…” Law’s face slightly impressed and surprised to see the small wet spot on your crotch. “Dammit..you’re too cute for that.”

He looks at you, face partially covered from your hands, but eyes still peaking through your fingers to watch him, such a pervert.

He huffs through his nose both hands now on the fattiest parts of your thighs and that’s when he notices your shriek, “If you want to moan. Moan…I don’t care, you’ll do it soon enough.”

Law starts with kissing each knee, his lips feather over your skin leaving you goosebumps already, he gives each leg his attention with soft kisses. and the closer he got towards your panties the further your legs spread.

“You should..just…go back to studying, Law I didn’t—“

“No it’s fine..I need a break.” The sounds of his lips smooching your hot inner thighs immediately made you softly mewl and bite your lip in anticipation, he couldn’t help but whisper “damn” to how hot you looked from above. It’s a shame how quickly Law grabs one of your hands to place on his hair to grip, “I do like your thighs a lot…just…don’t use that fact against me alright?”

“Hah..you better not use my sensitive thighs against me then.”

He winks at you, giving your thighs once last ounce of attention before he gets to where he is needed most.

“Law…”You moan as he pecks your clothed clit before he slides them to the side with one finger.

#one piece #black reader #one piece headcanons #one piece x female reader #one piece smut #law headcanons #law smut #law fluff #trafalgardwaterlaw #law trafalgar #law imagine #law one piece #law scenarios #law x female reader #law x black reader

[suchawrathfullamb]

i can't stop thinking about how was will's life with molly like. i feel like so much of will's affection for abigail was tied with his need to be normal and feel normal for once, and he finally got this when he married molly. i wish i could take all those three years they had been married and scrutinize under a microscope, was he wearing his own person suit of the sweet man 100% of the time? was he having nightmares about mizumono's events? he told bedelia that molly was aware enough about his and hannibal's relationship, but what exactly did he tell her? did he ever get conscious about the gender swap (molly/hannibal and wally/abigail) and got lost in the similarities or in how different they were from each other? will is a really introspective person, so how did he manage to balance this part of him with the fact that now he was living with two more people under the same roof? did he think about hannibal every single day even tho he'd avidly try to forget about him now that he finally had what he should want? idk ive read your post about will and bervely's "friendship" and his relationship with his dogs too and it really got me into a spiral because we as viewers are obviously going to empathize with him and see the good parts about him (and im not saying he doesn't have them) but it makes us forget how disconnected (?) he is from humanity and its concepts of how someone should act/feel/behave, so it really got me curious about how it was those three years for him trying every single day to "stay in character"

Omg yes, I wish we could see it and the worse part is that I'm pretty sure we would've seen it in season 4, in flashbacks :(.

I think, based in omitted dialogue from the script, that Molly saw a bit of his true self because she mentions dreams and things like that. And to her, he used dogs as a coping mechanism, because she tells Jack that he was "worrying about dogs all the time" and then he started getting a little bit better and was just caring for them (not just worrying). Hence why people who say Will caring about his dogs proves his humanity annoys me, because it is such a sad, shallow and stupid take, when it's canon they mean so much more than that and serve such a complex symbolic purpose.

But yes, I do believe he had to wear his person suit in a way he never had before. He wanted the complete opposite of what he experienced with Hannibal, as an attempt to further bury those feelings and experiences, so Molly served that role. And because they mirrored her calling him a sweet man to Reba calling Francis a sweet man, there's this notion that yes, Will has the ability for this trait, he can be a sweet man, but there's also a beast hidden within him, and just as Francis was afraid of his vulnerability with Reba, and how that was threatening to destroy/overcome the Dragon, we have to interpret the same for Will, since they were direct parallels. So Will fearing his affection for Hannibal and Hannibal being the only one capable of perceiving Will's beast as something beautiful (hence the tiger scene) and the only one who isn't afraid of that, contrasts with Molly, who calls him sweet for his care of dogs, and is unable to see him for who he truly is. When he says I'm sorry and leaves, he's leaving for good. He knew he wasn't coming back (dead or alive).

The fact that he projected Francis' killings into him killing Molly says a lot too. This was in his subconscious, and the amount of repression he faced during those 3 years was probably reaching a critical point, that's why it takes so little for him to completely break.

#season four pls we want the deets #nbc hannibal #hannigram #hannibal #will graham #murder husbands #hannibal lecter #hugh dancy #ask the lamb

[hella1975]

hellaaa plz share your favorite dabihawks fics for all of us who want some recs into their crazy minds!!

sorry i didnt answer this straight away i was reading a 230k words fic that i wanted to finish before i added it here 😭 does anyone know what's wrong with me. therapists hate me

dabihawks rec list!!

burn it all down by dorothycanfly - an au where dabi comes back to the todoroki estate to kill shouto when he's 19 and shouto is 11, but decides instead to take his little brother with him as part of his Grand Evil Masterplan that doesn't quite go as he wanted. this is the fic i always rec first in this fandom as it's the first dabi fic i really read that felt like it Understood Him and really made me go bananas about him. it's dark and twisted and true to what i think his actual mindset would be without demonising him, and also has shouto and him being very close and the way the author writes their dynamic is everything to me like it's so true to a real sibling relationship and id die for them. it gets very smutty in the middle but if that's not your thing the plot also kicks right back up again at 100mph immediately after, and there's also a sequel still being updated that's very promising.

big reputations by phanatics - singer fake dating au!!! i absolutely love dabi's characterisation in this and the celebrity angle is handled soooo well. the miscommunication and slow burn is incredible and that's coming from a bitch who finds both tropes frustrating unless they're done to my very niche standards. im pretty sure i read this fic in one day. im not making graduation i fear.

gunshots and molotovs by ironicallystupid - this is a 14k oneshot where dabi treats hawks' gunshot wound in a distinctly dabi way and then they get drunk. this one really got to me and i think it's bc it's one fic where they feel so true to character while still, for once, both acting their age. a big appeal of dabihawks for me is that they are both ultimately just two guys in their early twenties and seeing them embody that youth and silliness was surprisingly poignant

the 'will you accept this rose?' series by satelliteblue- the famous bachelorette au! if you don't know what i mean by famous, it's bc this fic has a habit of getting people who don't even read mha fic obsessed with it. like it's genuinely addicting. i remember first finding it and being like 'bacherlorette au dabihawks? be so fr' and look where im at now, 355k words later. it's genuinely just such a fun read AND i love the drama of it AND it has the todofam angle AND an actual plot snuck into it effortlessly. one of my fav fics of all time truly and it's still updating!

perspective by theeclecticeccentric - this is the fic i just finished and when i tell you ive powered through all 230k words of it in the past 4ish days. i love the league dynamic in this with the whole found family angle. i'll say it was something i clicked on less bc this kind of au (childhood friends dabihawks brainwashed to forget each other) is what i would normally go for and more bc i have BATTERED the dabihawks tag for all it's worth so i just tried it on a whim, but im so happy i clicked this bc it wound up being so fun! i also love any fic that forces the heroes and villains to ally against the hpsc and this fic does that. instant hit with me.

#if you want more dabi-centric fics (bc those are my bread and butter to the surprise of no one) #then i recommend ao3 user theyaremycrocs for singlehandedly RUINING my mental health with every and any fic of theirs #but yeah! i tried to keep this short and sweet but genuinely a ship hasnt had me in such a firm chokehold as dabihawks since like #my haikyuu era or something. not quite zukka bc who could ever but sakuatsu are getting nervous #ask #dabihawks #mha #fic rec

[darkravens-blogs]

Lucifer Morningstar x reader part two. This art is not mine credits to the artist again this is gonna be a series part one is already out im working on part three now.

You walk into your house and start to get ready you can tell that someone followed you but you couldn’t quite figure out who but despite that you still decided to get ready you put in a beautiful red wine dress (picture at the bottom of da page) and start to do your hair and makeup.”I can feel you lurching” you say in an “teasing” tone “I thought so”Lilith said as she came out with a knife you noticed this and say”what’s that for” you say as you tilt your head” to kill you you fucking bitch”she says in a angry jealous and venomous toned voice as she lunges at you with the knife.you dodge and look at her with a “wtf” face “ but wh-“ before you can finish your sentence she intent you again putting the knife to your throat.” Because now I’m gonna give you three options I kill you right hear and now or I let you live and you can leave heaven and not come back or you can skip the date stay hear but never see Lucifer again and you have to watch from afar as we have the life you wish you had”she offers you a few options”if I pick the threed option can I still at least see him and know he’s ok” she nods “yes you may but you can’t interact with him at all no matter what or I swear I will kill you” who pushes the knife further into you neck drawing blood”understand bitch” “yes I understand” “good” she backs away from you as she removes the knife from you neck “now pack you things and leave you’ll be staying down in hell so he can’t find you oh and wright a letter saying your leaving” “ok”

(Time skip cuz imma lazy hoe and tired)

“So y/n is leaving” Lucifer said l through teary eyes”yea she wrought you this letter tho and said smothered a parting gives attached to it or something like that”. Lilith said as she handed him the letter”I’ll leave you alone for a bit to process what’s happening”he got up and left as he read the letter and tears started to fall from his face the letter read.

Dear luci

I have to go away for a bit and I don’t know if I’m gonna be coming back any time soon and in case I don’t come back I want you to know that I love you lucifer I always have and always will no matter how long we’re apart I will love you now and always even if you sit love your self I’ll love you through thick and then bad and worse sickness and heath no matter what happens or where I am I will always love you and find you and so you don’t forget me I taped a pic of myself to this letter and a promise ring so I have to for fill the promise I made to you I have a matching one so we will always find each other so all you have to do is remember me and wear it around your neck or finger so we know it’s is us I love you luci always have always will till next time luci :).

Lucifer starred to cry he couldn’t believe it he had to find you he just had to to let you know how he felt too he was going to find you no matter who or what he to go through.

The dress you were gonna wear 👇

#lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel

[dungeonpuppykai]

OMG PROUD NO MORE IS THE HOTTEST THING IVE EVER READ PART 2 pls im on my knees

AHHHH! I am so glad you liked it! Since requests aren't open and I cannot do a drabble or oneshot rn, here's a little something I whipped up. Sorry if you had something specific in mind (you can always talk about it 🥴)

Note: This is a part 2-ish headcanon of my ABO oneshot Proud No More.

Warning(s): Dub-con, dark enhanced!Alpha Steve, Alpha!Reader, mean!Steve and dark stuff. Browse at your own discretion. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

After the events of part 1, Y/n remains curled in his legs on the floor after cleaning up and bringing everyone their drinks. 

Steve is drinking his as he discusses the sport on the tv with the other Alphas.

She whimpers each time their eyes meet, him sitting on the couch with his legs spread, her snuggled up to them underneath him. 

Her whole body is wrapped around his but he is not touching her at all.

His blue eyes are so cold to the puppy eyes she is looking at him with. 

He knows it. 

He can see it.

Smell it.

She wants it.

Needs him.

Inside.

So, so bad.

Y/n spends the remainder of the time peppering soft apologetic kisses to his knees, legs and thighs, hoping to earn some mercy.

Because Steve is the worst when it came to denying her where she needs him most. 

Which is his go to punishment for her besides spanking. 

She doesn't even care about the rest of the pack looking at her anymore. 

Pleasing him so he would fuck her pussy numb is the only objective on her mind now.

But Steve doesn't falter.

The Alpha Supreme is a master of endurance.

She's so desperate by the time they finally leave the packhouse and walk towards his vintage Camaro. 

Her eyes are glossy and lips only slightly pouty (because Steve doesn't tolerate brats and she's trying her best to not piss him off more than she already has) when he orders her to go over to get inside with a brief nod towards the vehicle.

She whines just a little, trying to move his hand (that she's desperately holding tight between both of hers) towards her aching core. 

Yes, she forgets all rationality when she's needy. 

What is remaining of her bottoms is covered in a wet mess of her slick and his cum. 

But one sharp look from Steve has her scurrying away to the backseat, not wanting another punishment.

Whenever Y/n acts out, she loses the passenger Princess privilege. 

Because Alpha doesn't like to look at sorry misbehaving puppies.

So she's sniffling and hiccupping as she moves to the back of the car before settling her very sore ass on the seat.

Her head lowers itself as her cheeks burn in humiliation.

He has a way of making her feel so small and pathetic.

Her form feels so tiny against the leather seat right now.

As if she's nothing but a small kicked puppy.

Fuck.

She can not decide if it's the inferior Alpha in her or if she actually feels sorry. 

But all her senses are wrenching with regret.

The stunt was completely unnecessary and not worth it at all.

She's quiet and ashamed behind him, pulling her best sorry puppy expression. 

The Superior Alpha starts the car and drives it off the porch onto the main road.

It is after a few minutes that her whimpers start to get louder to try and attract his attention.

Needy eyes shoot pleading glances up at the blonde man, knowing that he can feel them through the bond.

Steve continues to ignore her, still irritated by the antic she pulled in the packhouse. 

It will take her days of worship and cocksucking to make him happy again.

It always does.

He is very hard to please. 

Until then, the Supreme Alpha will, no doubt, be even stricter than usual.

Calling her out on the smallest of slip ups, punishing her for even breathing the wrong way, denying her as much physical touch as possible (she doesn't like to admit it but the puppy in her is always making her pathetically cuddle into one of his limbs). 

The cruelest cold shoulder. 

It has happened before.

And only Y/n is to blame for it happening again.

Yes, no matter what Steve does to her, she always dry orgasms. 

It is just the effect he has on her.

But nothing compares to his touch down there. 

Nothing, no orgasm, ever satisfies her more than the one his cock fucks out of her. 

And until she can have one of those, she can neither think nor function right. 

On days when she has to face denial as a consequence of her own actions, his dick is all she can think about. 

Even if she refuses to admit it.

That is where the punishment aspect comes in. 

Steve knows how hopeless her body is for his touch.

24/7.

She can lie to herself all she wants.

But Y/n cannot change the effect the bond has on her.

And that's exactly why he uses her everywhere but in her pussy following an episode of her acting out.

The begging, sobbing, kneeling, writhing, hissing, worshipping and trembling for his mercy strokes his ego in the best way.

Nothing makes him harder than all the promises she desperately makes.

All the ungodly things he makes her say.

Because she gets so cock starved during these punishments that she is always willing to do whatever he wants in the end.

Anything at all. 

Just so he would fuck her like the puppy that she is.

Fuck her until she has basically lost consciousness.

Only to make her thank him once she comes back up.

Every time. 

How her pride gradually breaks down.

Peeling away from her stiff form like the clothes that he makes her strip out of. 

There is no better sight or feeling.

To him, that state looks the best on her.

She's so fragile and vulnerable for him then.

It is perfect. 

She is perfect.

When she is proud no more.

Compliant and respectful on her knees. 

Stroking his ego and kissing his feet.

Steve smirks to himself as he turns a corner, refusing to look at the crying mess of drool and cum hanging by his seat.

He has turned a deaf ear to her pleads. 

But his monstrous knot is so worked up by how she's doing her best to remain as silent as possible because she is not allowed to be loud especially when interacting with her Alpha. 

Yet, every part of her body is aching for him (he can feel it through their bond) so bad that she cannot stop the begging even if she wants to. 

It is impossible for her to sit silently (as is expected of her).

Thus piling more and more punishment for herself.

Steve is not complaining though.

#ask kai #anon love #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #dark!steve rogers smut #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x y/n #dark!steve smut #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x you #dark!marvel #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x oc #steve rodgers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x smut #steve rogers x y/n #steve rodgers imagine #steve rodgers smut

[juvenillia]

~ Death of Peace of Mind ~ 16: lieutenant

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader

photo credits go to very talented @ave661

a/n: achievment unlocked: a new part of our life before joining the 141, and don't forget I do crosspost on ao3 and here, if you'd prefer to read over there.

CW/TW: mentions of loss, violence, jealousy, two teasing scots, guilt, trauma, death, suppressed emotions, nightmares

wordcount: 3.8k

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Laswell and Price already started going after that twin of Camilo and trying to find his track. What really wasn't an easy task so far. Kyle did work a lot to get a grip of all the fragments of intel and connect it with each other. Especially drawing differences between real intel and gossip from all those rich kids at the gala. Meanwhile you tried to avoid Soap as much as possible. You still felt a weird shadow creeping over your mind when you saw him. You haven't talked about the events and much more important about the kiss. Johnny tried to reassure you back at the hotel that everything was completely fine and that it wouldn't change anything. "Dinnea break yer pretty head, bonnie. It's fine." Is all he said with a reassuring smile before you headed back to your hotel room to get rid of the fancy stuff. And even when you knew it was indeed fine, it left you felt odd, and things got even weirder when your Lieutenant approached you about it. Ghost made his own assumptions of what happened. According to Johhny’s lipstick-stained lips, the way you avoided him, and the way the Scot tried to avoid Simon while searching out for you the whole time. It made him nervous to the brim. He needed to get a hold of this situation.

You tried to avoid it, telling him that everything was fine. "Did he ‘urt ya?", his voice was calm when he stared down at you in the kitchenette. Standing a bit closer than necessary next to you. "What? No. Of course not.", you stirred in the cup filled with Simon's favorite tea, before handing it to him. Simon nodded in appreciation taking the mug in his huge hands. He investigated your face for any hints of discomfort, of anything that would at least ease his mind. “It should've just not gone that way…”, you exhaled quietly. Simon’s heart ached in his chest as he noticed the guilt behind your eyes. He then averted his eyes, finger clutching tight onto the mug.

The next words ran so fast over his lips that he immediately regretted them. "Ya like 'im?" His accent was thicker than usual and his voice so low and nearly hurt. To his fortune it made it difficult to understand him properly and if you thought you did, it confused the hell out of you. Maybe you did mishear him after all. He didn't look at you, that way you couldn't read his eyes. Just when you wanted him to repeat his question, your phone started ringing and a small smile appeared when you read the name. "Sorry, Lieutenant. Need to get that one." He nodded, looking after you while you left the room. "Thanks for callin' back, mate.", he heard your voice shortly and then you were gone. And he was left with a nauseous feeling in his guts. He wouldn't dare to ask again, not wanting to receive an answer he might not want to hear. It only made sense to him; the way Johnny was always near you. The way you both get along so easily and the way he asked you so much personal stuff. He made his mind up a few ago already. Still, he hoped that these observations lead him to a wrong. And he never wanted to be wrong about something so bad.

You let Price know about your latest possible cooperation after the call ended and he made sure to arrange a meeting as soon as possible. That’s when you nearly ran into the Scot while wanting to head back to the common room to get your own tea. He took a grip onto your shoulders, preventing you from falling. “Ach, slow down, lass.”, he cooed while smiling at you. His smile faltered as he saw your eyes averting his glance. “We should talk about it, eh?” You nodded and he dragged you into a calm corner. Hiding from curious eyes. The talk didn’t take you long because you knew everything was fine. Still, it helped to sort things out directly. Making sure nothing would stand in between you, no hard feelings, just two professionals that had to do, what they had to do. But for the teasing man he is, he couldn’t suppress another statement. “Yer really not a bad kisser. Yer future lad can be happy.”, he said with a smug grin while giving you a quick hug.

You punched his upper arm with more force than necessary. “Zip it, MacTavish” He only laughed. “I knew someone who’d be eager to try.”, he winked at you and left before you could reach back for another hit. You only sighed, your cheeks burning hot, but your head felt light. Your fingers pinched the bridge of your nose. This man would be the death of you once he’d play more offensive. You weren’t allowed to risk anything. The Scot knew too much already.

Sometime later you found yourself in a briefing room together with your whole team and Laswell. Planning on further operations. Johnny and Simon - especially Simon - were annoyed from the whole situation, because of the latest announcement your Captain brought you. The 141 now had to work closer together with KorTac. Or better said with the Austrian colonel. Price announced it just a few seconds ago, explaining that they needed every helping hand that they could get. Before Ghost could even protest Johnny's voice could be heard. "Can we really trust him?"

Price looked at the Scot and then at you and you nodded. "I do vouch for him. Did walk through hell with him a lot of times and would do it again in an instant. Without him I wouldn't be here anyways." The last part sent a jolting pain down Simon's body. What you didn't intend to cause of course. Your eyes wandered over to your Lieutenant, shaking your head the slightest with a reassuring glance. König had already saved you a lot of times besides the last time, you just wanted to make your point clear. "Then everything should be fine. Gaz and Laswell will work on the new gathered intel. I'm gonna meet with König to inspect the chem factory once more and Soap, Ghost and Skadi you will meet a specialist she recommended to try to track Camilo's grave to find a trace of our new target." He stated calm.

"Can't we switch Gaz and Soap?", you said bluntly, what earned you a bewildered look from those two. Even Ghost was confused, especially after the question still lingering in his head, the one he still had no answer for. "Not arguable.", Price only laughed and dismissed everyone. As you stepped out, you were instantly stopped by Ghost. He wouldn't repeat his question but still curiosity got the best of him. "Why don't ya want Soap 'n the mission?" - "You'll find out soon enough.", you patted his shoulder playfully before leaving him behind to prepare your stuff for heading out. His brows knitted as he watched you walking away. Sometimes it was still hard for him to understand you.

That's how you found yourself on a helicopter with those men again. A smile lingering on your lips. That would be the actual first time you’d be excited to meet someone again. The flight was quite long, and sometime later you found yourself at a military base where you were already greeted from some soldiers. Leading you to a court. "Lieutenant Riley, it's an honor.", one of the men approached Ghost and he nodded appreciating while shaking the man's hand. "Sergeant MacTavish, Sergeant Quinn." You nodded at each other. He led you to another court in the back of the base to wait. It felt good to be on an actual operation again. Even if you were only light armed because it would be a simple task. Your wounds were healed up, and you heart ached for some real action. Laswell was right from the first second, you weren’t suited for civilian life. Just as you turned the corner your smile grew even wider. "Why so excited, bonnie?", Johnny nudged your side. "We just gonna meet the best boy out there.", you smiled widely. Johnny and Simon both stopped in their tracks, looking at each other confused but their muddled state shouldn't stay.

Just when Johnny wanted to question your behavior you already went down on your knees as a mature German shepherd approached you with full speed and nearly knocked you over in the process of greeting you. "Silver!", you cried out while patting and cuddling the dog in front of you. A smile grew behind Simon's mask watching in awe and Johnny chuckled. "Best boy. I see." Silver threw himself on his back that you could rub his belly with full force. "I've missed ya too, buddy. So, so fuckin' much.", your voice was filled with pure adoration.

"I'd sell ma left eye to be even once greeted that lovely by yer.", a man's voice approached you. And you only smiled down at the dog who enjoyed the reunion just like you did. "Well, he isn't a pain in my arse, unlike you.", you smiled while standing up, slowly shutting the distance between you. Silver didn't leave your side, always nudging your leg with his nose, trying to get your attention back. Your two teammates closing the distance themselves to your spot. "Nae, Quinn, admit it. Yer missed that arse of mine!" In front of you were a man about a head taller than you. A longer but well-groomed beard, ginger hair smoothly laid back. Some freckles over his nose, and a toothy grin on his face. "Never, mate.", you simply said as he gave you a hand and pulled you in for a quick hug and tapped your back with the free hand. The brown fur ball still at your side. "Just missed him.", you added mockingly while patting Silver's head. The other two men getting closer to you. "Och, yer talking oot yer arse." [Stop it, I don't believe you], you rolled your eyes at him. "Believe it or not, Matty."

You just wanted to introduce him to your two teammates as Johnny already intervened. "Haud yer wheesht!" [Shut up!] He immediately stepped forward to hug the stranger and both instantly started to ramble in Scottish. You moved with Silver to Ghost's side and chuckled. "He is Scottish.", his voice was somehow annoyed, still an amused undertone in it. "See why I'd rather wanted Kyle to tag along.", you simply laughed while Simon now patted Silver and nodded, shaking his head in disbelief. "Promise me, Lieutenant, that if we split up, you stay by my side. Can't have the Gaelic jabbering over the comms all the time.", you laughed out while watching the heated discussion between both Scottish men in front of you. "Of course, lo...", he swallowed the last word. You just raised your brow at him but didn't gave it another thought. You had a job to get done.

"Alright McKenna, you have enough time to talk to Johnny on the way. Let's go.", you scolded him jokingly. "Yer right, Quinn. Let's go. You'll take Silver, he’s already used to yer. And I have a rookie on board." You indeed split up. Simon stayed as promised with you and Silver. Matt, Johnny, and a new dog called Ruby went another path. Your goal was to track down where they buried Camilo, to be able to observe the place and maybe find the lost twin that way.

Between you and Ghost were a comforting silence while following Silver around until he broke it. "So, another ex-teammate?" His voice was soft. He always made sure to stay a step behind you, to have your six, just in case. "Yup.", you answered quickly. Simon wanted to ask something else but then the voice of McKenna came over the comms. "Yo, Quinn. Konig told me about some news.", his voice let your blood run cold and you stopped in your tracks. This bastard, of course they would've talked. Simon stopped next to you. "Don't know what ya mean, McKenna.", you say bluntly. You could hear Johnny's chuckles in the backgrounds and made a note to push both in two separate holes deep in the ground. "Cha sgeul rùin e is fios aig triuir air." [it is no secret when three people know it.], you only rolled your eyes and didn't answer to it. Simon looked half disgusted, half annoyed at the Gaelic, but shrugged it off. You were just happy that he couldn't understand any of it because Johnny's laughter became louder, and your cheeks more red.

"Bloody 'ell...", Ghost only exhaled, and you smiled, reassured that he didn't understand it. "Leave them their fun, I guess." He nodded; his eyes soften as he looked at your features. After some radio silence, you found a place Silver inspected more. You sat down while the dog ran along the place. That's when you heard Matthew's voice again. "How's the sleep going?", you heard him asking with a teasing tone over the comms, and you wondered about what the Scots would talk the whole time. You believed that Johnny openhearted would tell him everything that would embarrass you in front of your Lieutenant. You were just glad that no one of them knew about the wet dreams that still haunted your nights. That would be a secret you'd take with you into your grave. "Still the same. How about you?", you tried to act as stern as normal, your eyes lingering on Simon's figure a bit away from you. His eyes following the dog.

"Ya ken Quinn, you should get yer a big spoon. Dae wonders.", he chuckled, and you had to clear your throat in shock. Now Simon looked directly at you and your eyes met. The pure idea of having someone, having Simon as your big spoon did things to your stomach. The faint memory how he held you in that factory washing over your mind. The easiness how you could fall asleep next to him. But then you realized what Mathhew did imply and shook the rambling thoughts inside of you aside. "Wait, McKenna, since when?!", you averted your glance from his, not able to look in his brown eyes for too long. Eyes trailing back to Silver who still sniffed through the area. "About eight months, yer should come visit. You'd like him.", he chuckled, and a smile appeared on your lips. "I'm happy for you."

Matthew always was the type of guy to settle down one day, finding his significant other and just living on the manor of his family at the countryside near Edinburgh. It made you indeed warm up to hear, that he finally managed. It was never something you did even consider for yourself. The military was always your everything and you supposed that your stuck with it for life. Still, you couldn't deny the fact that the times you fell asleep around your team - around Simon - were indeed the ones where no nightmare crept their way up to your mind. So maybe Matthew was right, maybe you...no. You immediately shoved those thoughts aside. The kiss with Johnny just showed you, that you're not into that kind of things. But why was there a little voice inside that dared you to imaging the fake couple mission with Simon instead of Johnny? Your glance wandering up to him again, you noticed that his eyes were still pinned on you. The warm smile now aimed at him before it turned into a quiet chuckle. “Ghost, you’re staring again.” This time his eyes stayed on you as their corners crinkled the slightest. “Just observing.”, he answered once more. You nodded while Silver’s bark pushed both of you out of this comfort and ran to another spot. You followed him.

The operation went on not much longer as Silver did accomplish his purpose. You sent the coordinates over to Kyle for everything else before heading back to the base. Packing up your stuff. Everything happened faster than expected, and that's how you found yourself sitting together and having dinner in a place near the base. A place Matt did recommend, and that wasn't too far away. So as soon as the helo came to pick you up again, you'd be all set.

You had a good feast while being able to eat outside of the base's canteen after a long time and you enjoyed it all too well. Silver was under the table, curled up against your legs. Simon was seated next to you. By now it was an unwritten rule, the place next to you belonged to him. Johnny knew, so he sat across from you next to Matt. "So how did it come, yer never mentioned yer former team.", Johnny asked curious while taking a full bite out of his steak. "It's not a surprise. Ya know how long it took her to tell us about the time before joining the Wolves." - "McKenna!", you looked at him with a glimpse of anger. He shrugged it off with a cocky smile. A gesture you were way too familiar with. Simon’s glance was onto you. You told him about your former a team a few things. Well, you told him about Randy, but never what was before that. "Always the same Lieutenant, eh?", Matthew folded his hands and leant a bit back. A drink in the hand, that was placed on the arm rest of his chair.

A desperate sigh left your throat, while you shook your head in disbelief. "Wait a sec.", Johnny nearly choked on the meat in his mouth. "Lt?! Nae, Nae. Skadi 's Sergeant just like me." Simon's gaze still lingered on you next to him and he could see how the stiffness rose in your limbs. He nudged your leg with his knee, just the slightest. Just a little gesture of consolation. He never would push you to talk about something, he knew better than digging in, but he wanted to show you, that no matter what, it was fine. You were safe with him. His knee lingering against yours. Showing you that he was right there if you needed him. You placed the fork down and looked at Matt. "Got me degraded after...ya know", your voice was low, slightly painful glimpse in your eyes while your stared at your plate. Even Silver felt your tension and nudged your leg with his nose. The degradation was something you never addressed. Price and Laswell knew about it, but nobody else, till now. Johnny and Simon stayed quiet. You never told Simon what actually happened; besides, you lost Randy, and that you considered it your mistake. He looked worried at you, and the urge to take your hand grew with every second. Still, he held back.

"Quinn... why dinnea yer tell me.", Matt looked in sheer concern at you. "Why didn't you tell me you retired from active service.", you snapped back, pinning your eyes on him and catching him completely off guard. "Well... I...I...", he started stuttering, averting his eyes from yours. Both Johnny and Simon felt as intruder right now. Like they shouldn't be here, that those things weren't meant for their ears. "You thought I'd be mad at you?", you chuckled slightly desperate. "Somehow." - "Bullshit. Just tell me why you called back then." - "I owe yer so much.", he smiled softly. You shook your head. "You owe me nothing and you know that.”, your voice was serious, before it softened again. “Still, I appreciate your help.", you smiled at him, and he mirrored it. What followed was a solace silence, eating in peace. A silence Matt had to break once more because he hated when no one was talking. He couldn’t stand the silence, even if it was a comforting one.

"Yer should really visit us. Maybe with Konig, just like the good ol’ times.", he tried to change the topic, but regret the choose as soon as he saw the stoic expression of Ghost in front of him. But you nodded, "Could be lovely...", you say a bit absent. " 'scuse me, just catching some air.", you said while heading outside. Silver immediately following you. Of course, Simon would have loved to head out after you, having your usual evening smoke, but right now, he wanted to give you the space you needed. Even if his side felt suddenly so cold. But, he wanted to ask Matthew something else. He really wanted to but couldn't let the words slip over his tongue. To his fortune, Johnny was just too curious himself. "So, König and her?", he looked in anticipation at his newfound friend. Matt only laughed at the high awareness the men gifted him now. "Nae, pal. That's something ya should ask her." - " Oh c'mon!" Johnny cried out. " 's complicated and 'm not the person to tell that story. She'd kick my arse." He shrugged it off and before the other Scot would dig in any deeper, your sign to leave this place came up. The flight that would bring you back to your base.

Johnny gave Matthew a quick hug before climbing into the helo. Simon nodded at the newfound ally, giving Silver a head pet before following his teammate. You stood in front of Matt for a bit. Cuddling Silver a last time. “Dinnea waste that. Risk it for once.”, he said calm while giving you a hug and a wink as you turned to the helo. “Shut up, McKenna.” Simon reached his hand out to help you climb on the vehicle. Just then you heard your friends voice once more. “Quinn!”, he cried out. You turned around again. He stomped his foot in a forceful manner against the other. His closed fist pushed over his chest, right above the spot where his heart was beating. “See yer on the other side of hell.”, he saluted in front of you, a genuine smile onto his lips. You mirrored his salute. “Till we meet again, mate.”, afterwards your fist opened, and you placed two fingers, your index and middle one, onto your forehead. The inside of the digits facing him. He did the same. It was your common good-bye salute before every solo mission, before every splitting up. Afterwards you turned around to take Simon’s helping hand to let him pull you onto the helicopter and you were on the way back to your home.

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