Pricefield

i just drove by a huge zoo and it hurts to see.

zoos are institutions that cage living, breathing, intelligent beings—many of whom are capable of complex thought, emotion, and social behavior— strictly for human entertainment. the idea of placing animals in cages or enclosures for observation and amusement is something we've inherited from earlier centuries, a time when little was understood about animal cognition or emotional capacity. but today, we know better. we know that elephants mourn their dead, that primates form lifelong bonds, that big cats are meant to roam miles each day, and that even the most "lowly" animals have instincts and needs we still don’t fully understand. yet we continue to imprison them for no reason other than our own curiosity and profit. in zoos animals are stripped of everything that makes their lives natural and fulfilling. they lose their freedom to roam, their opportunity to hunt or forage, their privacy, and often their families. animals that would travel dozens or even hundreds of miles in the wild are confined to enclosures so small they can walk end to end in seconds. imagine the mental toll this takes. it’s no shocker that animals in zoos often develop abnormal behaviors. pacing, head bobbing, excessive grooming, rocking back and forth, behaviors not found in the wild. these are signs of psychological distress, not quirks to be laughed at by passing visitors. one of the biggest myths used to defend zoos is that they help with conservation. but if you really look into it, that argument doesn't hold much weight. the vast majority of animals in zoos are not endangered. many are there simply because they’re popular or exotic. when endangered species are bred in captivity, they are rarely released into the wild. instead, they spend their lives on display, far from the ecosystems they’re supposedly being saved for. conservation in its truest form means protecting wild habitats, funding anti poaching initiatives, and preserving biodiversity in nature. NOT creating artificial environments that barely mimic the real world. education is another claim zoos love to make. and yes, you can learn the names and appearances of animals by walking through a zoo. but what kind of education is that, really? what are we teaching children when we show them wild animals in unnatural, confined settings? are we teaching them to respect wildlife, or to view animals as things that exist for our entertainment? there’s a huge difference between truly understanding an animal’s life and merely staring at one from the other side of a glass wall. and then there’s the matter of profit. for many zoos, especially those in large cities, animals are essentially attractions. flashy exhibits, animal shows, petting zoos, photo ops, these are all designed to increase revenue. the animals themselves become tools in a marketing strategy. they don’t get to choose whether they’re on display. they don’t get a day off. they don’t get to say no. even in zoos with the best intentions, the underlying business model still treats animals as commodities. of course there are people who work in zoos who genuinely care about animals. there are veterinarians, caretakers, and staff members who do their best to give the animals a decent life. but individual compassion doesn’t erase systemic harm. it’s possible to care deeply and still be working within a broken system. the problem isn’t the people, it’s the structure that makes it acceptable to cage living beings for life. there are better alternatives. true sanctuaries focus on rescuing animals from abusive situations and giving them a life that’s as close to natural as possible. they don’t breed animals for profit or allow petting for selfies. they prioritize animal needs over public entertainment. likewise, supporting wildlife conservation efforts in the field, like protecting forests, oceans, grasslands, helps animals live where they truly belong: in the wild, not in glass boxes or concrete pits.

animals are not here for us. they are not exhibits or props. they are individuals with their own lives to live, not behind bars, not in enclosures, but in the vast, complex, wild world where they belong. it’s time WE stop supporting systems that tell us otherwise.

LEHKONEN!!! just a casual reminder he’s a hockey wizard

i just saw thunderbolts... wow... this movie is what happens when hr runs out of avengers and just starts picking names off a watchlist. five stars.

warm enough ⋆₊˚ ࿔⋆

pre-canon qz!joel miller x fem!reader | masterlist |

1.7k words | joel miller before ellie so he’s distant but not too bad, fwb to lovers, kissing, unprotected piv sex. — still trying to cope with his death:,((

summary- in the Boston QZ, survival comes first—but when you’re sharing smokes, running jobs, and ending up in each other’s beds more often than not, lines blur fast. Joel’s older, guarded, and dead set on keeping it casual. She’s younger yeah, but tired of pretending it’s nothing. It’s not love. Not exactly. But it’s warm.

And sometimes, that’s enough.

It wasn’t supposed to happen again.

It never does.

But somehow you’d ended up tangled in his sheets anyway, your knees brushing his under the thin blanket, the air between your bodies too warm, too full. It was always like this—frenzied, wordless, fleeting. A way to survive the way the world pressed down on your chest like a loaded weapon.

But this time was different.

You hadn’t woken up alone.

Joel Miller, the man who never stayed, was still there.

You stirred first. Sunlight cut through the cracks in the boarded-up window, slicing across his bare shoulder. You studied the soft line of his jaw, the way his brows stayed furrowed even in sleep. Like he couldn’t let go of whatever ghosts lived behind his eyes, even when unconscious.

You turned over, pulling the blanket up. Hoping maybe he’d shift and mumble something. Maybe you’d pretend it didn’t feel real. But then—

Footsteps. The bed dipped. Joel sat up and rubbed a hand down his face.

He didn’t look at you.

Instead, he stood, tugged on his shirt, and wandered into the kitchen—if it could be called that. A hot plate. A kettle. Cans lined up like trophies. You listened to him move, the scrape of the metal lid opening, the glug of water.

And then… coffee.

You blinked.

Joel never made coffee after. Hell, he never let you stay long enough to see what he did after.

When he came back in, he was holding two chipped mugs. He didn’t meet your eyes as he handed you one. “Still hot,” he muttered.

You sat up, blinking at him like he’d handed you a map out of this place. “You made two.”

“Yeah.”

Silence.

You cupped the mug in both hands, let the heat seep into your fingers. It smelled like burned grounds and survival. But something about it settled your heart a little.

Joel sat back on the edge of the bed, hunched forward, watching the floor like it had something to say.

You broke the quiet. “Feels kinda normal, huh?”

His shoulders tensed.

He didn’t answer for a long beat. Then:

“Don’t get used to it.”

His voice had been soft, but it cut through the quiet like a blade. Not sharp enough to draw blood—just enough to remind you where the lines were.

You didn’t say anything. Just wrapped your hands tighter around the chipped mug and took a slow sip. Bitter. Burned. Warm.

He stood across from you, back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest like he was bracing for something.

Maybe your silence.

Maybe the truth.

You glanced at him over the rim of your cup. His gaze was fixed on the space behind you—somewhere over your shoulder, like if he looked you in the eye he might not be able to keep the mask on.

So you tried to keep it simple. “It was good coffee.”

That earned you a flicker of something—wryness, maybe. A tiny twitch of his mouth. “Tastes like shit.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “but it’s warm.”

Another long silence passed between you. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… full. Like both of you were waiting for something else to rise to the surface.

You caught yourself wishing the moment would stretch out a little longer. That he’d lean back against the counter like he belonged there. That he’d ask you to stay—not just to kill time until the next run, but because he wanted you there.

But Joel didn’t ask for things.

And you didn’t know how to ask either.

So you drained the rest of your coffee, set the mug down gently on the counter, and stepped back toward the door. Your boots scuffed against the worn floorboards.

“I should go,” you said, quiet.

Joel nodded. Still not looking at you.

Your fingers brushed the doorknob, cool metal under your skin. You hesitated.

“Thanks for… letting me stay.”

He didn’t say anything at first. Then, just as your hand started to turn the knob—

“Didn’t mind it.”

The words came out like they surprised him too. You turned halfway, your heart catching.

Joel’s eyes met yours, and for once, he didn’t look away.

“Didn’t mind you bein’ here,” he said again, slower this time. Like maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to admit.

You smiled, small and warm. “Okay.”

Then you opened the door and left.

But your chest felt lighter.

A Few Days Later

The next few days are back to normal.

At least, mostly.

You go on a few jobs—runners, small deliveries. Joel doesn’t say much, but he sticks close. Always just behind your shoulder, scanning rooftops, watching your back like it’s second nature.

You try not to read into it.

But every time your eyes meet across a crowded alley, or in the back room of Tess’s hideout, there’s a flicker. A pause.

Like maybe something changed that morning, and neither of you knows what to do with it.

You hadn’t meant to end up there again.

You told yourself it was just muscle memory—your boots turning corners like they knew the way. That the pull in your chest wasn’t about him. That the ache wasn’t for him.

But the lights were out in your building. Your neighbor was crying again. And your bed was too cold, too quiet.

So you stood outside Joel’s door for almost a full minute, heart knocking against your ribs, before you lifted your hand.

You didn’t even knock.

He opened it before you could.

Joel stood there in a threadbare shirt and jeans, barefoot, with sleep-soft eyes and stubble smudged along his jaw. His brows furrowed, but not with surprise.

Like he’d been waiting.

A sixth sense.

“You alright?” he asked.

You nodded. “I didn’t wanna be alone.”

That was all you had to say.

He stepped aside.

Inside, the room was warm—barely. The radiator hissed. You shrugged off your jacket while he watched from the other side of the room, arms crossed loosely over his chest.

Joel always looked tense. Even now, under the soft glow of the table lamp, he stood like someone expecting a fight.

Or a confession.

You took a slow step toward him. “You ever get tired of pretending this doesn’t mean anything?”

He didn’t move.

“‘Cause I do,” you whispered.

Joel’s eyes searched yours. There was something rough and unreadable in his face, like he was trying to swallow back something too big for words.

“I don’t know what to call it,” he admitted, voice low, thick. “I don’t even know what it is. But when you knock, I open the door. Every time.”

Your throat tightened.

“I keep tellin’ myself I ain’t got room for this. For you. But you show up and I—” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I want you here. That’s the truth.”

The breath you didn’t realize you were holding finally left your lungs.

You stepped closer. Close enough to see the flicker of hesitation behind his eyes, the war he was fighting with himself.

“But you’re scared,” you said softly.

Joel’s jaw flexed. “Damn right I am.”

You reached up, fingers brushing the edge of his jaw. “Then let me show you something good for once.”

And that broke him.

He kissed you like he needed it to stay alive.

Not hurried or rough like before—this was slow, devouring, like he was afraid you might vanish if he let go too soon. His hands cradled your face, rough thumbs grazing your cheekbones like he was trying to memorize you.

You slid your hands under his shirt, fingertips dragging over warm skin, the curve of old scars and hard muscle. Joel groaned into your mouth, deep and low, and pulled you closer by the hips.

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he murmured against your lips. “Always walkin’ around like you don’t know what you do to me.”

You smiled into the kiss. “I know exactly what I do to you.”

He huffed a breath—half a laugh, half a growl—and walked you backward until the backs of your knees hit the bed.

“Lie down,” he said, voice gone dark and soft and commanding.

You obeyed, heart racing.

Joel stripped his shirt off, slow and deliberate, like he wanted you to watch. Then he knelt over you, kissing a trail down your neck, your chest, your stomach—taking his time, learning every inch of you like it was something sacred.

“Y’know how many nights I think about this?” he murmured against your skin. “Think about you.”

You arched under his touch, eyes fluttering. “Then why don’t you let it be more?”

His hands stilled for a second. Just long enough for you to feel the weight of the question.

Then he leaned up, kissed you again—softer this time. Sadder.

“I’m tryin’,” he whispered. “I don’t know how, but I’m tryin’.”

When he finally sank into you, it wasn’t frantic or desperate. It was slow, intense, real. His forehead rested against yours, breath hot against your lips as your bodies moved in rhythm, like this wasn’t something you stole—it was something you built.

Joel didn’t hide from it.

He kissed your knuckles when he held your hands above your head. He murmured your name like a promise. He stayed.

When you both fell apart together, it was quiet.

No words. Just warmth.

He didn’t let you go.

Later

You rested against his chest, legs tangled under the blanket, heartbeat slowly finding its way back to calm.

His hand moved gently along your arm, over and over, like he didn’t want to stop touching you even if he didn’t know what to say.

You turned your face up toward his.

“What now?”

Joel exhaled, thumb tracing the inside of your wrist.

“Now we sleep,” he said, voice husky.

“And tomorrow?”

There was a beat.

Then he kissed your forehead.

“Tomorrow, there’s coffee.”

yeah yeah im feeding yall ik

ugh i would LOVE to read more about bruce x clark x reader and the kryptonian breeding season if you ever wanna write more about that

#KRYPTONIAN BREEDING SEASON HCs ˎˊ˗

Bruce Wayne x Clark Kent x fem!Reader 🩷 ── .✦

a/n : okay sooo like… i literally cannot stop thinking about bruce and clark absolutely wrecking me during kryptonian breeding season like??? one’s all cold and calculated and the other one is just a feral puppy in heat and i’m the dumb little thing stuck between them crying and begging and full of everything they wanna give me… like oops!! guess i was made to be their perfect lil cumdump. this is for my fellow needy girlies who love getting bred stupid and filled over n over until they can’t walk and don’t even remember their name — just “daddy” and “sir.” be safe, be hydrated, and don’t trust clark when he says “just one more” because HE’S LYING 🤥 mwahhh enjoy the mess!! 🩷

ᯓ★ The moment Clark’s breeding season starts, you can feel it in the air. Clark’s body runs hotter, his touches linger longer, and he starts growling under his breath whenever another man looks at you—even Bruce.

ᯓ★ He becomes insatiable. We’re talking multiple times a day, desperate humping against your thighs in the morning, needing you on your hands and knees before you’ve even had coffee.

ᯓ★ His favorite position during his “breeding season” ? Bent-over mating press or from behind with your knees tucked under you—anything where he can press his weight into you, knot himself deep, and stay there.

ᯓ★ Clark marks you with his scent constantly—nuzzling your neck, rubbing your inner thighs, licking your chest—and gets irrationally possessive when it starts to fade.

ᯓ★ Bruce pretends he’s above it. He even scoffs when Clark starts his “breeding season” —until he sees you dripping and trembling from being bred nonstop.

ᯓ★ That’s when the switch flips. Suddenly, he’s in front of you while Clark fucks you, holding your jaw and making you look up at him while he fucks your mouth.

ᯓ★ He talks dirty in your ear while Clark’s breeding you, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise:

“He’s going to fuck a baby into you. Do you want that? One from both of us?”

ᯓ★ He won’t let Clark have you all to himself. Bruce insists on taking your mouth or ass while Clark has your pussy. Double stuffing is standard during breeding season.

ᯓ★ Bruce never loses composure, but the way he clenches his jaw and grunts when he spills inside you? That’s his version of falling apart.

ᯓ★ They don’t fight over you—they share you. Clark fucks to breed; Bruce fucks to claim.

ᯓ★ They put you in heat-like states just from overstimulation: pinned between both of them, cock-drunk, messy, and mumbling about wanting their babies while one holds your legs open and the other fills you to the brim.

ᯓ★ They make you cum over and over just to ensure your body is “ready to receive”—Bruce with slow, cruel fingers on your clit, Clark rutting in and out like an animal until your thighs shake.

ᯓ★ The aftercare is almost worse: Clark’s kissing your belly, talking about “how many he thinks took,” while Bruce presses a hand over your full cunt to keep everything inside.

“Don’t waste a drop. You’re ours.”

Would you do comfort shower sex with re2 leon omg I'll give you my soul please🙏🏻

let’s pretend the whole aeon romance didn’t happen during raccoon city😛 also fuckkk i LOVED writing this

warnings; smut obvi, p in v, unprotected sex, cursing, subby leon, kind of angsty and kind of fluffy too, handjob, implied cunnilingus at the end

leon hadn’t been the same since raccoon city.

you were both gonna move there once leon got his new job as a cop, but he went a day earlier than you for his first day, and you needed more time to pack.

thank god you stayed behind, but you constantly blame yourself for letting him go. he assures you it’s not your fault, how you couldn’t have ever known, but it all fell on deaf ears.

its been about three months now, and he still seems pretty traumatised by the whole ordeal. you’ve tried to be there for him, always letting him vent to you on the rare occasion that he needs to let his feelings out, offering him comfort in your arms.

you made sure to work two jobs to pay rent, leon wasn’t ready to work anytime soon (or so you thought) and you cooked for him, cleaned up after him, and sometimes on his bad days, you had to help him shower. 

it was no surprise that you were stressed, feeling overstimulated with everything. but you couldn’t say anything, leon had it way worse, and you understood that. despite the constant dark circles under your eyes, the soreness in your muscles, you stayed strong. stayed strong for him.

but it was getting difficult to keep up with everything. it was hard to sleep because of leon’s insomnia, or when he did sleep, he had nightmares. you would comfort him through the night, try to ease him back to sleep. you would take shit from customers and bosses all day everyday, putting effort into cooking just for most of it to go to waste. but that was all okay, because it was leon. you loved him so much, that none of this other stuff mattered.

you’d probably be able to decompress by getting some release, and of course, you wouldn’t push leon to do anything like that now. you were fine with going solo… except, you had no time to yourself really, so you’d gone practically three months without touching yourself.

but it was okay. you could deal with all of it, for leon.

you’d just finished washing the dishes, strolling back over to the dining table that leon was still sat at, staring at nothing.

your heart ached for him constantly, and you found that you had to hold back tears everytime you saw him like this. he was like a shell of the man you fell in love with.

you slowly moved closer to him, and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. he startled, blue eyes snapping up to yours as he tensed. he quickly eased once he realised what’d happened, and mumbled an apology under his breath as he slowly turned to look down at the table.

you stroked his shoulder delicately, pinching your brows together. you stood in silence there for a minute, seeing how he seemed to just be out of it.

“honey,” you whispered. his head barely moved in your direction to show that he was listening. “you wanna get in the shower?”

saying nothing, he nodded slightly. he stood, but didn’t make any move to the bathroom. you bit the inside of your lip, knowing that you’d have to help him. you muttered a “cmon” to him, moving your hand to his back, leading him to the hallway slowly and into the bathroom.

you moved away from him and started the shower, keeping one hand beneath it to check the temperature, and the other was reaching to get a clean towel from the basket, and you put it on the rack.

once the water was warm enough, you turned. leon was leaning against the door, staring at you. well, more like staring through you, like he wasn’t all there. you’d gotten used to that stare by now.

you take a step toward him, and reached up to cup his cheek. his eyes, that seem a lot duller lately, shift to look at you. you smiled at him sadly, your thumb rubbing his cheekbone. he reached up to hold your wrist, hardly managing to give you a weak smile back. more like a twitch of the lips.

you take your hand away, and began to unbutton his shirt. he stepped away from the door, moving his arms to help you pull it off of him. you both were used to this routine by now.

you remove his belt next, dropping it to the floor atop of his discarded shirt. you unbutton his jeans, pull down his zip, and take both the waistband of them and his boxers, pulling them down.

normally, this act would be turning you on incredibly, but it’s hard to be when he’s so distant.

you take his socks off, then stand to your height and take his hand, smiling at him again. you carefully walk him over to the shower, letting him get inside and stand beneath the water for a moment. then you undress quickly, pulling of your work shirt and plain bra, then pulling down your pants and panties.

after pulling up your hair into a half-assed bun, you climb in after him.

you reach up to run your hands through his hair as usual, to spread the water and get it wet, but he suddenly turns around and presses his forehead against your shoulder.

you try to not let the shock show on your face, even if he can’t see it. your hands remain up for a second, before moving to hold him. one settles on the back of his neck, the other at the top of his spine.

you stand like that for a few minutes beneath the water, just close to each other. after a little while, you start to hear him sniffling, and something warm drip onto your shoulder, definitely not shower water.

“oh, baby..” you whisper, feeling your own tears well up in your eyes. “don’t cry, shh… it’s okay.” you wrap your arms around him tighter, your hand on his neck moving up to his hair.

he’s silent for a little while, just crying into your shoulder. his arms wrap around your waist, and he nuzzles his nose into your neck. you think this is the most he’s touched you in months.

“i..” he gasps, voice shaky. your heart breaks. “i just can’t stop thinking about it.”

you close your eyes, trying your best not to sob. “i know, i know… it’s gonna be okay, honey… i’m here for you, i’m not going anywhere.”

he lifts his head up, glossy eyes staring at you. you take his face in your hands, smiling tearfully at him. “you are so strong. i love you so much.”

his face twitches as more tears spill from his eyes, he takes your wrist and puts your hand to his mouth, kissing it gently. “i love you too.”

god, you’ve not heard that in a long time. you pull him back into your arms, standing in a sorta hug with him.

you both stand like that for what seems like hours, him silently crying into your neck as you stroke his back, kissing his hair softly.

after a while, you feel his lips brush your neck. then he begins to kiss it delicately, pressing little kisses up to your jawline.

“leon?” you ask, moving your head back to question him, but all he does is shush you, continuing to kiss up to your cheek. he places his hands on your hips, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips.

he brushes his lips against yours, sad eyes staring right into yours. you swallow nervously. “honey, i don’t want you to rush into anything. it’s okay, we can take it one step at a—”

he cuts you off with a gentle kiss, his plump lips pressing against yours. it doesn’t last long, he pulls away after a few seconds. he moves his hands from your hips to your waist, eyes flickering between your lips and eyes. “‘m ready.. ‘n i want you..” he whispers, desperation laced in his tone.

he leans closer again, but you shift your head back. “baby, are you sure?”

leon lets out a quiet whine, eyes locked onto your lips as he places his forehead against yours. “mhm.”

even though you were surprised by his sudden clinginess, you couldn’t deny that even the feeling of his touch and longing look in his gaze was already making your stomach churn.

“‘js need you..” he brushed his lips against yours again. “need to forget.”

you understand. you nod at him, arms reaching up to wrap around his neck. you kiss him softly, then again, then again, and again. he pulls you closer, your soft chest smushed against his hard one, and he deepens the kiss.

you immediately allow his tongue entrance to your mouth, sighing happily against him. he whimpers quietly, hands gripping you tighter as his lips move against yours more fervently.

“baby..” he whispers, pulling away for air. he leans down to suck at your neck, nipping and kissing.

“i know..” you murmur back, already feeling the wetness between your legs grow.

he kisses down to your chest, leaving hickeys in his wake. “‘s been so long…”

you nodded, eyes closing at the feeling. already, you felt as if all the stress of the past few months was melting away.

he leans back up, smashing his lips back against yours with a moan, his hands groping your tits. you shuddered, clenching around nothing already.

you pull away. he chases your mouth, but you lean down to kiss at his neck.

you suck harshly, kissing the spot afterward. you paid extra attention to the sensitive spot between his moles, his little whines making your clit throb.

“fuck..” he sighs. you look up to see his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, staring at you.

you almost cum untouched at the way his eyes are so blown.

you glance down, and actually moan out loud at the sight. he’s just as turned on as you, his cock standing at full attention, pale pink tip practically staring right at you.

you look back up at him, pressing your lips against his, tongue tangling languidly with his.

one of your hands moves from the back of his neck to his chest, gliding down. you gently take his dick into your hand. he gasps and lets out a choked moan against you at the contact.

fuck, he’s already leaking. you swipe your thumb against his slit, and he shudders. you spread the precum over his cock, running your hand up and down slowly.

he has to pull away to gasp. his head falls back against your shoulder. you smile, hand moving faster.

he’s already fucking dripping all over your hand, which isn’t all that surprising, it has been three months. hell, you think you can feel your wetness on your inner thighs.

his hips are twitching already, and he’s whimpering into your neck, and.. is he drooling?

“fuck.. oh fuck, baby… that’s it, that’s..” he’s cut off by his own gasp as you speed up, and it’s so wet that you can hear the squelching over the sound of the shower.

“oh my fuhhhck… ‘m gonna cum, gonnacum gonna..” he cries, hips bucking into your grip. his whines are growing more frequent and loud.

he’s whispering something, and you listen closely, “make me cum, make me cum… i need it, needitneed…”

you go even faster, kissing his hair. “cum ‘fr me, baby..”

his breath seems to be lost, he’s gasping and hiccuping. then, with one final moan, he’s releasing white ropes onto your stomach and hand.

you stroke him through it, whispering sweet praises into his ear. you take your hand off of him once he whines out of overstimulation, and his spend easily washes off since you’re in the shower.

you kiss him delicately on his cheek when he pulls away from your neck, staring at you lovingly. “you did so well, you’re so good..”

you think that’s the end of it. you’ll wash his hair, help him change, and cuddle him to sleep. then it’ll go back to how it’s been for months in the morning.

you move to reach behind you for the shampoo, but he takes your wrist and holds it between his hands.

he’s looking at you so intensely that you almost want to shy away from his gaze. but you don’t.

he licks his lips, and you resist the urge to stare.

“what, you think we’re done?”

god, it’s just all so slippery.

the way your back is sliding against the tile wall, the wet sound of leon’s hips slapping against your ass, your legs gliding along his waist, the feeling of both of your saliva-coated lips moving against each other.

leon is fucking dumb, non-stop whining and whimpering against you as he desperately ruts up into you. the feeling of your soaked pussy clenching around him made him feel like he was on cloud nine.

you both had already came twice together, his cum was still oozing out of your pussy.

leon pulls away, a string of saliva still connecting your lips. your foreheads press together, and he’s practically slobbering all over you. his speech is slurring together. “baby.. oh my god, fuck… this feels so.. so..”

you let out a moan, your head leaning back against the wall, “fuckk, i know.” you already feel your third peak rapidly approaching.

his tip is repeatedly nudging that spot over and over and over and it’s almost too much, your breathing is uneven and heavy.

he drops his head back into your neck, and if you weren’t so cockdrunk, you’d probably laugh at how it’s practically his new home.

his hot breath is hitting your shoulder, needy moans spilling repeatedly from his mouth.

“leon,” you gasped out, needing to look into those pretty eyes when you cum. “leon, honey, look at me.”

he shakes his head frantically, his thrusts becoming sloppier and his pace growing faster.

“look at me, please.” you repeat, your climax is right there, you need this.

“can’t,” he panted, his hands that are on the back of your thighs grip harder, bruises surely forming. “can’t or i’ll cum. wan’ this to last…”

“baby, ‘s okay, we can— fuck, we can go again.”

he whimpers at your words, licking sloppily at your neck. “ohhh my fuck.. ‘m gonna cum againn.. gonna— gonna fill you up.”

“please,” you whined, desperation to be filled rolling over you like a tidal wave. “cum, baby, ‘s alright.”

he’s muttering something incoherent, completely pussydrunk. your words are making his cock twitch relentlessly inside you.

your hand reaches into his hair and you pull it, smashing your lips against his.

he lets out the fucking sluttiest moan you’ve heard from him yet, and his hips still and you feel that familiar, welcome warmth fill you. his tongue is rolling with yours lewdly.

his hips weakly buck up, fucking his cum into you. after a few moments of catching your breaths, he reluctantly pulls out. you shakily put your legs back onto the shower floor, holding tightly onto his shoulders for support.

he watches his cum droop from your pussy with fascination, and uses two fingers to push it back inside. he swallows harshly.

your head rolls back, exhaustion taking hold of your limbs.

leon gets the hint, and this time, it’s him helping you out of the shower and change.

once you’re all settled in bed, you’re more than ready to go straight to sleep. until you feel a brush against your spent cunt.

your eyes flicker to leon, who’s just watching his hand that’s cupping your pussy through your pyjama shorts.

you furrow your brows at him in confusion, and he just lifts the blanket and gets eye-level with your clothed core.

“what’re you doing?” you ask tiredly, despite already growing horny again.

“well, you didn’t cum that last time, hm?” he murmured, taking the waistband of your shorts and fresh panties, beginning to pull them down. his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

you smile, letting your head roll back onto the pillow and closing your eyes, letting your legs spread wider.

just started ep2...... eek

Maybe in another universe? 📷༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

. . . Why not this one? ⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

္ံံင်္ 🦌˖ 𓋵࣬

we're so sorry to hear about your roommate that passed away he gets five big booms BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM

my brain just shuts down everytime he’s on screen😞

credit: stan_wifey1