Tumgik
#i hope this isn't as all over the place as i feel it is lmao
pedgito · 2 years
Note
“want me to model these for you?”
Eddie plis 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
author's note: for my 1k celebration. i could've gone so dirty with this, but i tried to constrain myself lmao. plus, this was too funny of an idea not to write it.
cw: literally none, other than a very, very flirtatious eddie, fem!reader
word count: 1.1k
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“I’m pretty sure you have it the wrong way,” You mention to Eddie, watching as he turned and twisted to fit the costume the correct way, getting tangled in the harness, the weak leather snapping apart from the resistance of Eddie’s broad shoulders. He freezes immediately, eyes locking with you from behind his arms, still trapped. You nearly combust on the spot, “I’m gonna kill you, Munson.”
You breath out sharply through your nose, rounding the long table to meet Eddie, helping his arms out of their uncomfortable position. “You didn’t mention you were making these for people the size of literal hobbits.”
“These were for Dustin,” You say through gritted teeth, tossing the destroyed material to the floor, back to the drawing board. It had taken you nearly two weeks to gather all the costumes together—two very long, painstaking weeks, your fingers ready to fall off at any moment, “who, if I remember correctly, is half your size, Eddie.”
“But, you didn’t—“ Eddie begins, silenced by your finger pressing to his lips.
“No. Sit.” You ordered, pulling your finger away from his mouth to point at his velvet lined chair—his throne, he called it. Fit for one person only, the prestigious Dungeon Master…yada, yada, whatever. He was always just Eddie to you. 
“You didn’t tell me I couldn’t try it on.” He argues anyways, once you’re a sufficient distance away.
“No,” You say pointedly, “But, I did tell you to be careful with it—which, I figure, you get halfway through putting it on and realize it doesn’t fit, that you would take it off, not force it on.”
Eddie shrinks in defeat, guilt flooding his system. He did feel bad but he couldn’t hold in his excitement, too eager at the prospect of costumes for the extravagant session they had planned at the end of the month. Halloween night. He’d been planning for weeks.
It was destined to be the most insane campaign he had ever created. Everyone had their costumes planned out, ready for full immersion. But now, poor Dustin would be carrying his weapons around, rather than having them holstered away.
“You might’ve just cost Dustin his life now,” You comment, sifting through the pile of clothes, “he was really excited for that piece.”
It wasn’t as hindering to his character as you were making it out to be, but teasing Eddie was just too easy.
Eddie sighs softly, flicking at your small pile of dice on the table, a translucent cherry red with white detailing. Eddie was the one who had bought them for you, when everything was still new and you didn’t understand a single aspect about the game. Truthfully, he was just appreciative that you had given them a chance, being as open-minded as you were and all. 
You were always incredibly talented with a needle and cloth, always making your own handcrafted, personally styled outfit pieces for school. You even taught him how to sew the custom pieces on his jacket—and he was forever indebted to you now, or so he said. Eddie was a fan of dramatics and while you never really took any of it to heart, it was still endearing. 
“Aha!” You shout, holding up the dark cape that you had crafted for Eddie. He wanted something dark, dreadful, and a little terrifying in hopes of scaring the boys shitless. “Oh, and I can’t forget the horns.” 
Eddie perked up quickly, flexing his hands excitedly in your direction, grabbing at the crafted horns, still smelling of polymer and paint. “These are so cool,” His voice is raw, fingers dragging along the ridges and dips of the carefully crafted piece. You smile at his astonishment, flipping the hood of the cape over, showcasing the two carefully cut holes, “no way.”
“Yes—so that way, you put those on,” You grab the headband, slipping it into place under the hood, “and you can’t even tell that it’s not already a piece of the costume. Sick, right?”
Eddie laughs in disbelief, eyes glancing up at you. The grin on his face is just the answer you need, but he nods, “Hell yeah.”
“Plus, with the whole lighting situation we’ll have going and the music—I think it’ll scare the crap out of those kids.” You add, helping him into his costume, securing the front of the cape around his neck. “Voila.” You sing, fingers moving fancifully, like you were crafting a bit of magic. 
Eddie’s eyes wander to the table, stopping on one particular piece in question. A black and red corset, decked to the nines with lace and hooks and all the necessary components. It wasn’t hard to deduce who it was for, his eyes shooting back to you, wide as ever.
He plucks it up delicately, before you can protest. “Huh,” He nods, “What about this?” Eddie asks, Cheshire grin on his face, “Want me to model these for you?” He’s holding the corset to his chest, glancing up at you with faux innocence.
You scoff, yanking the garment from his grip and shoving at his face playfully, doing nothing to wipe that smug look off his face. 
“I think you’ve already done enough damage for one night.” You remind him, flipping the corset back onto the table. “Besides, I don’t think I could handle you in a corset.” 
It’s not meant to sound as flirtatious as it does, but Eddie picks at it, not allowing you to wiggle out of this one.
“Oh,” His voice raises, pulling gently at the string of the cape until it falls from his shoulders, “so what is it—the tattoos, or wait—is it my shoulders, are they just that distracting?”
It was a bit of both, but he didn’t need to know that. 
You slip the headband carefully off his head, peering directly into his eyes. “Count your days, Munson.” It’s a warning.
“And why is that?” Eddie urges, forcing his way into your space, but you don’t back down. 
The back and forth between you two was ridiculous, a constant bickering mess, always chomping at the smallest bit of whatever you could, just to get each other riled up. 
It worked so well.
“Because I know the second I walk in here, in that,” You bite back, eyes locked onto him like he was your next target, “your entire campaign is going to fall to pieces.”
Eddie wouldn’t be able to focus, let alone direct an entire campaign, not with you sitting directly across from him, staring him down like you wanted to swallow him whole. You were just as enticing as you were terrifying and you heard it from Eddie constantly—“You really know how to work ‘em.” He’d told you, having somehow managed to scare Jason off enough from asking you on a date, yet still leaving his friends in awe at how easily you handled the situation, giving him a small taste of his own medicine. 
“We’ll see about that, princess.” 
Needless to say, it was the quickest campaign in Hellfire history. 
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svtskneecaps · 3 months
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here's how it goes:
everyone spends valentine's day in DEEP denial. tubbo isn't dead, he CAN'T be. when they die they come back, that's how it is, how it's ALWAYS been. the island is hell but at least fatalities don't stick, except in specific cases and all of them in the same white shells. of course philza jokes, he's thinking about tubbo, he can't stop. he's expecting tubbo to jump out at any moment, he's expecting to go to fobo and see tubbo hidden in the basement throwing darts at a picture of fit and pac looking at each other, he's expecting to go back to the dungeon and the body is gone (he hopes). tubbo's not dead. he can't die. none of them can, just the eggs.
(it never takes this long to come back; he knows something is wrong)
here's how it goes:
tubbo tells the kids "i'm on my last life." the eggs have always had lives. i don't think some of them have ever understood that the players have infinite chances, with their insistence on protecting their caretakers from deaths like their caretakers do for them, charging back into the eye worker war, refusing to back out of a dangerous dungeon before their parents do, wanting to protect. i don't know if they understand that to the players, death is like spit in the face: unpleasant, sure, but no big deal.
tubbo tells the kids "i'm on my last life" and of course they believe him. death is their constant companion, no more than two doors down. some eggs are used to it being a breath away.
here's how it goes:
tubbo is dead. the children mourn him. the players are scared. defiant. they always are. who among them has died? dan, missing; spreen, gone; maximus... well there was no body, no announcement, surely-
(how long did it take pierre to accept it? to realize it? to take down the missing person posters? not a day. not a day.)
juanaflippa died and there was a court case to save her. bobby died and the whole server journeyed to save him. when is the last time the players have taken death lying down?
here's how it goes:
tubbo dies, and he dies unloved (fit's arm is stretched out to save him). he dies without purpose (sunny is there, she's waiting, she knows he won't move). he dies and no one cares (chayanne refuses to leave, his godfather, he failed his-)
here's how it goes:
the valentine's party is so loud but too quiet. there's a name in the air, even when no one is saying it
"wow sure is good tubbo isn't here" phil says (he's said this before, he'll say it again, but isn't it strange how many times? perhaps even he doesn't believe it. perhaps he's trying to convince himself.)
here's how it goes:
a creature with too many faces comes. it tells them the truth they won't face. tubbo is gone.
quesadilla island says, "not for long"
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depresseddepot · 1 month
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to avoid thinking about my cat's surgery I've been painting and I am so fucking bad at mixing colors lmao
#im bad at matching colors too#like usually im painting from some random picture i find online but this time im really trying to focus on what im doing#(to avoid thinking about the surgery)#and i am so so bad at color matching lmao#i even used a color match site so i could see what the color of an area REALLY is but even when i do that my colors are wrong#theyre like...the right tone but theyre all too dark#and lightening them with white makes the tone go off#is this color theory? /gen lol I've heard people say you need to learn color theory but i never knew what it was#anyway. for my next trick i will think obsessively about my wip. (to avoid thinking about the surgery)#okay i cant avoid it any longer. i am so fucking glad his surgery is tomorroe#hes having knee surgery and his knee has started CLICKING while he walks#im so nervous i feel like i could go into cardiac arrest but frankly i wish it had been yesterday or the day before#i wish we had taken him to the vet last thursday. i wish i had trusted my gut sooner instead of letting my mom talk me out of it#i wish i hadn't let him walk around with a torn ligament for over a fucking week#i wish we had the vet do xrays on his knees when he was a kitten so we could have prevented all of this#i wish i had a shorter bedframe so he didn't have to jump so high. i wish i could sleep on the floor so i could sleep with him in his cage#i wish i had desensitized him to car rides and vet visits when he was a kitten#i wish we knew who abused him and threw him onto the highway so i could kill them#i wish we had put him on anxiety medication earlier#i wish i was a trained veterinarian so i could do my own exams on him instead of taking him to a place he's terrified of#i wish i was confident enough to give him the injection he needs without fucking it up#god i fucking hope everything goes okay#pretending to laugh about how he'll have a nakey chicken leg isn't even working anymore#wip save me. save me wip
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bau-drabbles · 1 year
Text
say it again
a/n: fluffy fluff w the team and spencer. it was gonna be smut but i was having a mental breakdown over my exams so it took a diff turn lmao.
hope you enjoy 🤍
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"hey pretty girl-" "no" "but i-" "no"
wrapped up in a thick warm blanket, you narrow your eyes at morgan while everyone still boards the jet. he's annoying you and you know it. but combined with your health and tiredness, you really don't want to play into it tonight.
however morgan is morgan and he has other plans, obviously
you were just so grateful to be going home where your bed desperately awaits your presence. it had been an awful two weeks, the unsub was meticulous and smart. and he worked with several people, it took days to track them all down. not to mention today was also the delightful day your immune system decided it no longer wanted to work resulting in a high fever and the flu. you passed the worst of it but not yet well enough to do most things.
"are you sleeping?" rossi poked your head and you gave him a slight glare, indicating towards yourself
"does it look like i'm having a party here?" you ask sarcastically, making him raise his arms in defense. rossi chuckles as he sits next to morgan, undoubtedly the two were going to be a pain in the ass the whole entire time.
"you cut us deep kid, you cut us real deep" morgan placed a hand over his heart, feigning sadness and pain. you both went back and forth with the comments until you groan slightly, leaning your head back.
"emily" you complained, pointing to the men opposite you. they laughed a little and slowly coughed when she gives them both a stern looking over.
"you leave her alone morgan, y/n isn't feeling well" emily scolded lightly, turning the page on her book.
"neither am i" he whines back, dramatically flopping his hand to his head.
"aww you poor baby" jj playfully mocked derek, coming back from the kitchen. she warmed a hot water bottle for you to have, her motherly instincts kicking in.
"there ya go" she gave you a sweet smile, standing up as she ruffled your hair. everytime a member of the team were sick, jj always made sure they were comfortable and rested. it was always without hesitation, always making you thankful there was someone in the team like her.
"how you feeling gumdrop?" garcia walks in with all her bags, setting them down as she feels your forehead. your frown is still fixated upon derek with whom you both start playfully bickering with each other
"hey hey, none of that sass mister. y/n is ill tonight, okay?" penelope narrows her eyes at him who blinks in shock.
"babygirl you're supposed to be on my side"
"hey i always am! but you, my delectable chocolate thunder, are getting on everyone's last nerve right now" she taps her pen at the end of his nose. he frowns in confusion but she settles beside him, giving him a nudge.
you give derek a cheeky smile knowing you've won that round and he narrows his eyes at you, knowing he would pay you back when you were better. you rolled the blanket over your head, cocooning yourself in a ball.
"are you feeling better, l/n?" hotch enters, settling in his usual place. you mumble a response from under the blanket, shivering slightly as the hot water bottle pressed firmly into your body. why was it so hard to warm up?
"hey l/n y'know-" derek begins but you cut him off with an annoyed sigh.
"leave me alone" you grumble under the warmth of your layers, hearing chuckles coming from the plane.
you feel something warm wrapped themselves around your lap and you stiffen, ready to tackle some sense into derek. but you see curly hair splayed on your lap. arms coming to snake themselves around your waist, beautiful honey eyes coming to give you some comfort. you relax, holding him that much closer
"never" spencer whispers, his hands coming to holds yours. his fingers interlaced with yours, he brings the back of your hand for a kiss, rubbing your knuckles tenderly. it felt so incredibly intimate, every part of you warming up to his affections.
he can't help but brush some hair back, just observing how beautiful you looked. even when you were sick, you had him in a trance that he never wanted to wake up from. he wants more, you feel his lips brush against your cheeks, breaths mingling until a pillow on your lap completely cuts you from your daze.
"get a room kid!"
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folkwhoredoll · 2 months
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library affections - rafe cameron x fem!reader
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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
synopsis: there are two things that you love in this world; rafe and books
word count: 0.9k
warnings/tags: none, just fluff with sweet boyfriend!rafe
a/n: hi everyone! i don't think i can ever thank you all enough for your support in all of my works :< tbh i did not expect to gain so much interaction because this blog is still relatively new but here you all are and i appreciate each and every one of you <3 this fic is another fluff boyfriend!rafe fic (is it obvious that i like fluff so much lmao) and i've written this a while ago. i hope you'll like this one! if you have a request or prompt in mind, feel free to send me a message. happy reading!
masterlist
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Being a regular visitor at the Camerons' estate has familiarized you with every corner of the house. Now, you have memorized every room and decoration, immediately spotting whatever is newly added. The Camerons didn't mind your presence, with your family being a close friend of theirs. Thus, it was no surprise that you ended up dating the one and only son of Ward Cameron.
With his father and stepmother often occupied and his sisters frequently out with friends, you and Rafe usually find yourselves with the house to yourselves, save for the occasional presence of the household staff. Yet, you've never minded.
Today follows a similar pattern. Ward left for a morning meeting, Wheezie went to school, and Sarah departed at noon to join John B's group. Surprisingly, even Rafe isn't home, having agreed to a golf outing with Topper and Kelce. Although he initially invited you to join, you declined, preferring to avoid the "boy talk" and the scorching sun. Thus, you find yourself waiting for Rafe in the living room, idly scrolling through your phone.
It's been around two in the afternoon when you got bored, sighing and deciding to stand up to walk around the house. Your feet already know where you're going when you face the familiar entrance to the Camerons' Library.
This room is your most loved spot in the whole estate, apart from Rafe's room. The vast shelves of bright book covers from different times always amaze you. If you could, you'd live in this room. Rafe has found you exploring this library countless times; even his sisters know it's the first place to check when you're not around the house.
Quickly scanning the shelves for a book, you settled upon a fantasy fiction novel, clutching the book as you made your way to a couch by the window. The first few chapters had you hooked immediately, eyes rapidly passing through every word as you moved chapter by chapter. The book was so good that it blanked your other senses, making you jump when you suddenly heard Rafe's voice.
"I knew you'd be here." He smirked, still in his golfing outfit, as he stood over you.
"Hi, Rafe." You smiled up at him, putting the book down on your lap. "How's golfing?"
Rafe plopped beside you, stretching his legs and putting an arm around your shoulder. "It was good. I got bored with Top's whining about his break-up with Sarah, so I left."
You chuckled when you saw his eyes roll, a dramatic sigh escaping his lips. "They were together for a long time. You can't blame him."
"I guess." He shrugged before flashing you a flirty grin. "But I also want to spend time with my girl."
You snorted. "Yeah, okay."
"What? I do! I feel guilty about leaving you here alone." He defended.
"I don't mind, Rafe." You spoke.
"Hm. I bet you don't. But still."
You raised your brows, silently urging him to explain what he meant.
"I just mean that you were too distracted by that book, baby. I could've been an intruder, but you wouldn't even know. What is that about anyway?"
Your eyes lit up at his question; you've always loved speaking about the books you've read. And Rafe loved hearing you talk, even if he's mostly confused.
"I just started reading it, so I don't really know what it's about yet, but there's this girl, and she has electricity powers!" You started excitedly.
Rafe listened intently. He couldn't help but feel affection for you, marveling at how your eyes sparkled with passion for the story. Despite the chaotic world outside, at this moment, it was just the two of you, surrounded by the tranquility of the library.
As you continued to talk, Rafe's mind wandered, reflecting on how much you meant to him. You were the one person who could effortlessly penetrate his tough exterior, revealing the softer, more vulnerable side of him that he often kept hidden from the world. He felt at ease with you, free to be himself without fear of judgment or ridicule.
Lost in his thoughts, Rafe reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You paused mid-sentence, startled by the sudden touch, before leaning into his hand, relishing the warmth of his touch.
"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked, concern lacing your voice as you noticed the distant look in his eyes.
Rafe shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Nothing, I'm just... happy. Happy to be here with you."
A soft blush colored your cheeks as you met his gaze, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. At that moment, surrounded by the scent of old books and the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the window, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else.
Leaning in, Rafe pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before pulling away. "I love you," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with sincerity.
"I love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with emotion as you returned his affectionate gaze.
With a contented sigh, Rafe settled back against the couch, pulling you closer until you were nestled against his side. Together, you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the simple pleasure of each other's company.
At that moment, surrounded by the familiar comforts of the library, you knew that no matter what the future held, as long as you had each other, everything would be okay.
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anundyingfidelity · 2 months
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AFFECTION — Soldier Boy
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Summary: During a mission, Soldier Boy receives a hug from you unexpectedly. He likes it.
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female supe!reader.
Word count: 0.9k
Warnings: canon violence and language, reader is kinda hurted, descriptions of blood and stuff, AU where Ben is working with the team on missions (which is what should've happened on the show btw), Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy lmao, Ben and reader are totally opposites and I live for that. Based on this post.
Note: soooo I'm still making some arrangements to my Soldier Boy long fic and instead I have this short drabble in the meantime. Hope you enjoy it hehe.
the boys/jackles tags: @k-slla
(if anyone would like to be added to my tags just tell me^^)
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
GEN MASTERLIST!
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You groanned, feeling the hard wall hit against your back. It was hard to believe but you thought probably you wouldn't go out of this alive. Your body ached and not even your strenght could stop this guy.
Fucking Butcher, why did you have to follow him to suicide again? Just a couple of cunts, he said. But he forgot to mention they had a weird improved dosis of V injected.
You fell to the ground as the man walked towards you. He was extremely tall and well-buff. No sense the Compound V on his system made him better, or at least that's what he thought. He was tossed to the ground by your side, and you crawled to the corner of the small room.
The distance was not enough to let you run away. You stayed there, watching Soldier Boy's big frame over the man. He used his shield, beting him to death and destroying his face and neck during the process. You were so damn sure his loud groans of pain would remain on your mind at least for a couple of days.
"Fucking pussy," the old man said, wipping some blood off his face. He got on his feet ungracefully and grabbed his shield back. He turned to look at you, still sitting on the floor. "You okay?"
You nodded. "Yeah."
He held you a bloody hand, which you took to stand up. There was an akward silence as you and Ben left the small room, you followed him around the dirty basement, filled with lifeless bodies and fluids on the ground, to meet with Butcher and Hughie.
"Guess those were all," Butcher announced.
"I have the remaining dosis," you took the tube from the pocket of your pants and showed them with a smile on your face. "Was the last one."
"Excellent," Butcher grabbed it and tossed it to Hughie, who saved the tube on a bag.
"We made it out, huh," you mumbled.
"Well, we're still down here, so," Hughie shrugged and three pairs of eyes narrowed at him. "What?"
"Just think positively, for once," you pleaded with a fake sharp tone. "Isn't that hard, y'know."
Ben rolled his eyes.
"We're on a fucking shithole, the kid's right. Let's go now before any of you fuck this up," he ordered and passed by between Butcher and Hughie, hitting his shoulder intentionally in the process.
You quickly followed behind his long soldier strides. "Wait!"
Soldier Boy scoffed and closed his eyes slowly only to open them again. You stood on his way with a big smile and wide eyes. Bruises and blood adorned your face and neck, your clothes were also splattered with dry blood and dirt after killing those clandestine stupid supes on an undercover mission at night, and still you acted like nothing had happened. He stood in place, with Hughie and Butcher standing behind expecting what the fuck you'd be doing this time. Sometimes he thought you were so fucking annoying.
"The fuck you want?"
You opened your lips to say something but nothing came out. Once you closed them, you beamed again and closed the distance between him and you. You wrapped your arms around his strong waist and rested your grubby check against his chest. He tensed visibly under your hug and after a moment you pulled away, your hands behind your back with a shy smile. Hughie and Butcher were clearly holding back a good laugh. They knew better not to mock Soldier Boy, not yet though.
Ben blinked a couple of times, trying to process what happened.
"What the fuck was that?"
You giggled. "Affection."
He wrinkled his nose. "Disgusting."
You gasped and faked sadness on your voice. "Why? I was just saying 'thank you for saving my ass'."
"It's fucking nothing," he rolled his eyes and started to walk again to guide the team outside, with the other two men with playful smirks on their faces following behind.
"Ben!" you quickly caught his pace to stand by his side. "Thank you, okay? Probably you don't like physical contact but I do. And this is how I show others that I care about them and that I'm thankful. I also give hugs because I like them and–"
"Shh!" Ben raised his hand, suddenly stopping his tracks by the end of the stairs that'd lead you outside. He turned and looked at you with that grumpy face of his. "I said you're welcome, sweetheart. Now we need to go, you can talk to me about your hugs shit later."
He pointed to Hughie and Butcher. "Now, you, cocksuckers, go up."
Butcher grinned, going first. "Sure, cap."
"You shut up," Soldier Boy warned, Hughie gulped and nodded, and made his way up on the stairs.
You stood there, with a smile on your lips. Always that fucking, idiotic, stupid smile, even after hard missions like the one you just had. It was like if you were the only one who didn't seem scared of him or anything else. Sure, you were a supe and a smart asset on the team. But still, a very peculiar lady through his eyes.
He sighed and rolled his eyes. Once Butcher and Hughie were out of sight he finally talked.
"Do it again."
"Excuse me?"
"The stupid hug, do it again."
You raised your eyebrows, eyes bright as you realized his request. "Really?!"
"God, woman. Do I need to fucking repeat my—?"
His words were cut by your strong hug. You crashed against his frame so hard he lost balance for a bit. He was certainly surprised by how warm your hug it actually felt. You angled your eyes to see his face.
"Thanks!"
You let him go and got up the stairs. He barely curved his lips at how happy you climbed them. Yeah, well he actually liked your stupid hugs.
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soldier boy / reader
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neouture · 10 months
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Admiring You
Pairing — Jaemin x Reader
Words — 3,530 words
Genre — 18+, smut, fluff
Warnings — Fem!reader, established relationship. Use of petnames (Jaemin is whipped about being called “baby”), dirty talk, cursing, oral sex (f. receiving), grinding/humping against each other, mild nipple/breast play, lots of praises, mild spanking, jaemin is enthusiastic about reader's ass for this one lmao, unprotected sex (don't do it !), creampie.
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“What?”
The corners of your lips rise in a small smile when the mirror's reflection shows Jaemin in awe. He is sitting at the edge of the bed right behind you, but even in such a position where your back is facing him, he manages to find your reflection on the full-length mirror in front of you.
“You,” Jaemin sighs, licking his bottom lip while his eyes do a quick scan of you —from head to toe, he hopes his gaze doesn’t miss a single inch of the flesh in front of him. “God, you’re so-”.
He doesn’t even finish the sentence, yet he has you shying away from his words and eyes.
“Yeah, right,” you crack a small, timid laugh, “stop staring at me, I mean it!”
He's unlucky you're standing right next to the chair of your desk that, strategically, has a big, soft cushion on it. Because the minute you spot it, you throw it at him playfully. However, you're unlucky he is great at everything that involves physical activity, so the playful teasing does nothing to him because before you can tell, he has already caught the cushion with his hands. No impact, and no desired effect either.
Disappointed, you return to your previous task, and Jaemin seemingly does the same —you’re fixing your wet hair, and he’s back staring at you in awe.
“I was thinking we could order takeout,” you tell him, trying to fill the void of silence with anything.
Jaemin hums in response.
“I really don’t feel like going out right now, I just took a shower. Plus there’s this show I’ve been wanting to watch with you-” another hum from your boyfriend as a response, so your furrowed eyebrows find his reflection in the mirror, slightly annoyed. “Jae?”
It isn't uncommon for Jaemin to get lost in his trail of thoughts. “Mhm?”
When you turn around to confront him, you realize he isn’t lost in his trail of thoughts like he usually is. He is right there with you, his gaze is all over your figure, and his mind is there —he’s just planning something out.
“Jae-”
“Take off the bathrobe,” he asks, without thinking twice —he might as well do so, because the bathrobe isn’t doing anything to hide your precious body from him. “Please”.
It looks good on you, he admits. But you look way better without it.
“Do you want to order take out yes or no?”
The sudden plea makes your skin feel hot, but you try to pretend it didn’t affect you at all for any reason. It’s a silly game you often play with yourself, where you try to drag out Jaemin’s desire until he is too close to the edge to bear it.
“I’m not hungry,” he tells you with half a smile, tilting his head. “I mean I am, but not for food”.
The way he is staring at you from head to toe tells you everything you need to know about his innuendo, but isn't it more fun to act clueless? To pretend you don't understand him until he's too desperate for you to keep on dragging this little game on?
“So?”
“So take off your bathrobe,” Jaemin insists again, this time pulling you closer to him, trapping you between his legs while he sits at the edge of the bed. “Please?”
You stare at him, placing both your hands on his shoulders.
“Should I?” you tease your boyfriend with a cheeky smile peeking through the corners of your lips.
“I know you want to,” he sighs, sneaking both his hands to the back of your legs and hooking them around your inner thighs. He caresses them oh so sensually, dragging them up and then a bit down, making you wish for more. “Don’t you?”
You pretend you think about it, but his intimate touch makes it hard for you not to give in.
“You want it,” Jaemin drags the tip of his digits a bit too far up. Too close to your core that’s aching for him, too close to offering any kind of stimulation that it’s going to make you lose your mind. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you kept staring at me the whole time. Your eyes were all over my ass”.
He feels his cock twitching when the words come out of your mouth, because you’re definitely not that far from the truth. He was, indeed, staring —how couldn’t he? The silk fabric hugged your body tightly and left nothing to the imagination; it sticks to your flesh like another set of skin, and it also lets Jaemin know you’re wearing absolutely nothing underneath it.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you kept bending over just for me to watch,” your boyfriend counter attacks, and suddenly you feel shy. You were teasing him, yes, but it's kind of embarrassing he brings it up.
“I wasn’t,” you say, shaking your head slowly. “I was just brushing my hair”.
“Hm,” Jaemin hums, finally dragging his fingers all the way to your naked core, rubbing the tip of two against your slit.
Dripping.
“Are you sure?” he asks, defiantly. With his penetrative and intimidating gaze all over you, like it's some sort of trial.
Like he has to prove something to you.
“Yes, baby,” you murmur, moving the palms of your hands from his shoulders to his neck. Your boyfriend tilts his head, just at the same time his hands move forward to the naked flesh of your ass. When you feel him squeezing it a bit too harsh, you know you’ve hit the spot.
“Baby?” he repeats with a hoarse voice, like he’s trying to remain collected.
“What?” a smile brightens your face, “you don’t like it when I call you that?”
You know the answer, but you still want to hear it from him. In exchange, though, all you get is silence and a challenging gaze, one that tells you you’re pushing him closer to the edge faster than expected.
“Hm, baby?” you ask again, tilting your head at him. “Cat got your tongue?”
With a sudden movement, Jaemin pulls you towards his lap —you’re no longer standing between his spread legs, but sitting on top of his throbbing bulge that feels tightly pressed against your wet pussy.
This time around, he doesn’t ask you to take off the silk robe. His hands do so delicately, untangling the barely-made ribbon at the front to reveal your naked body to him like you're some sort of gift he has to unwrap.
“Fuck,” he sighs when the fabric is discarded to the floor, leaving you completely exposed for him.
His gaze flies directly to your breasts, the sight of their perfect curvature and hardened nipples makes his cock twitch painfully under you, demanding your attention.
“You look beautiful,” Jaemin whispers underneath his breath, too quiet to be heard from a distance but you pick it fairly well. He places his hands on your hips and pulls you even closer to him, until his tongue latches and swirls around one of your hardened buds.
“God,” his soft lips and wet tongue feel heavenly on your breasts. Your skin gets covered in goosebumps quickly, and you soon feel your body trembling against him. “Don’t- fuck Jaemin, don’t stop”.
He smiles against your skin, but loses no time to provide you with even more stimulation. He drags his hands from your hips to your arse, and he grips it tightly while pressing his body against yours.
“So good,” Jaemin murmurs, caressing and squeezing your ass while guiding your hips over his lap. Your body reacts instinctively, and the more he touches you, the more you grind against his bulge.
“Yeah?” you ask with a deep sigh, wrapping your hands and arms around his neck. “I’m good?”
“Perfect,” he smiles, landing a soft and gentle slap on one of your ass cheeks. It isn’t painful, but the sharp feeling it’s enough to have you whimpering against his lips. “You’re perfect”.
You wish to stay forever like this, hugging him tightly with your pussy pressed against his cock. You want to feel his hands all over you, at all times —on your breasts, on your hips and on your ass. But you’re getting desperate.
Jaemin can tell, by the way you move your hips deeper and faster, trying to get more friction and stimulation. He can even feel how wet you are through the fabric of his shorts.
“I want to taste you,” he sighs, pressing a kiss on your chest, then on your neck and one on your lips. “Let me eat your pussy out”.
There’s something enticing about how dirty Jaemin can get with his words. You love how raw they sound, how the more turned on he gets, the more he stops thinking about everything too much.
So you stand up from his lap, and just when you’re about to get in the usual position —lying down with your back against the mattress and your legs spread— Jaemin motions you to get on your knees.
The position is rather new for this specific practice, but you don’t seem to hate it —your knees are pressed against the mattress, your back is arched and your ass is completely exposed for him. The only thing you dislike it’s the fact that you can’t see him or his face, but you completely become mindless once his tongue laps at your slit.
“Fuck,” Jaemin groans. Guttural, even animalistic.
The louder he gets, the more you melt.
He buries his face between your legs, and loses no opportunity to have his hands all over your ass. He often fantasies with you sitting on top of his face, grinding your wet pussy against his lips while you get off with him. Tonight, though, he wants to be fully in control of your pleasure, so he pushes that fantasy aside for a little while.
“Taste so good,” he murmurs, collecting all your wetness with his own tongue and smearing it along your slit. He’s messy with it, and neither of you seem to care. “Your body it’s- just fucking perfect”.
You moan at his words, and arch your back even harder at his ministrations.
“Shit, baby,” you whine, gripping the bed sheets with your hands in an attempt to hold on to something. Normally you’d do so latching your fingers along his long hair, but since the position doesn’t allow you too, the bed sheets will have to do for now.
“You have no idea how much I love it when you call me that,” your boyfriend hisses, offering you yet another soft spank to your ass cheeks. “I swear you have me wrapped around your finger, pretty”.
The more he praises you, the closer you get to your orgasm. Not only that, but his wet tongue feels heavenly in you —he knows your body like the back of his hands, and knows exactly what and where to touch.
“I’m all yours,” he coos, sucking on your throbbing clit and making your body jolt forward. “Are you all mine?”
“Yes!” you gasp without thinking it twice, feeling your orgasm approaching. “I’m all yours, Jae”.
Jaemin smiles against your pussy. He knows you’re close, judged by how you’re curling your toes and your body is becoming stiff. He can faintly taste your orgasm, and he isn’t going to stop until you’re coming all over his face, letting him know how good he is making you feel.
At the same time, he’s desperate to come too. You’re so made for each other, that he could just get off to the taste and sound of you —many times he has reached his orgasm untouched, just by pleasuring you. He fears tonight might be one of those days, but he’s trying hard to control himself.
“You’re about to come,” he tells you. It’s not a question, nor an assumption. Jaemin knows you’re seconds away from your high, he can feel it just as if your bodies are one. “Come for me”.
He has you weak. Everything about him makes you feel weak, and you can’t help yourself but do exactly as he tells you. He holds that much power over your body, and you’ve known it for a while now.
“Baby!” you gasp one more time, burying your head against the mattress while you try your best to remain in your position. The pleasure is too overwhelming to complete such a task, but Jaemin’s tight grip around your thighs and ass makes it easier for you.
“I know,” he murmurs, his silky voice feeling like a breath of fresh air in the midst of the overstimulating sensations. “It feels good, hm?”
You nod frantically, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes. It feels too good.
“Come, baby,” Jaemin encourages you, keeping you in place by hooking his arms around you. “Let me taste you”.
The way he grips and massages your ass, paired with the feeling of his lips against your core and the filthy words that are falling carelessly from his mouth, you finally reach your anticipated orgasm.
Your boyfriend tastes every single drop of it, and the lewd noises he makes against your throbbing pussy do nothing but increase your own arousal. You’ve always loved how messy and passionate Jaemin can get, and tonight it’s no exception.
“Shit- baby!” He gives you no time to overcome your orgasm, and continues eating you out until your body becomes limp. You have no strength on your arms or knees whatsoever, but you still manage to stay in place helped by Jaemin's grip on you. The pleasure it’s becoming too much, but you don’t want him to stop.
Not at all.
“That’s it,” Jaemin coos, smiling in victory when he’s done licking you clean.
He can’t spend another minute without being inside of you, and you’re weakly swaying your hips letting you know that you want him just as much as he wants you, so he loses no time before discarding his clothes to the floor.
“Baby,” you murmur, shifting your position on the mattress slightly. However, he’s quick to stop you.
“Wait,” Jaemin holds your hips firmly, making you stay still in the position you’re in —knees and palms against the mattress, on all fours with your back arched and your ass up for him. “Let me fuck you like this,” he tells you, and you can pick up the neediness of his voice. He’s desperate to come too, and he wants to do so with you. “Let me see how you swallow me full”.
You love watching him fuck you, but you can’t refuse —you know how much he loves this position and the best part is that he is very vocal about it. So you do as you’re told, and fix your body on the mattress.
It takes him barely a couple of seconds before you feel his hands guiding your hips all the way to his erected cock, the tip of it rubbing against your slit while coating himself with your wetness. You’re more than ready to take him, and he slides right in so easily that it makes him grunt.
“You’re so- tight, and warm” he hisses as he bottoms out, feeling his pubis hitting against your ass.
“Yeah?” you ask, doing your best to bear the painful stretch. He prepared you well, but the very first seconds are always uncomfortable until your walls get used to his girth.
“And you look- so good from this angle,” Jaemin praises you, and you smile. “God you’re so- I love how your ass looks while you’re taking me in your pussy”.
You sway your hips just a little, and that single motion makes him lose his mind for a while. He loves how good your ass looks, how it feels when he grips it with both his hands. He also loves to fuck you from behind and see how it bounces against his cock.
It’s such a pleasant view.
“Fuck me,” you plea, fucking yourself on his cock just slightly.
Any other day, Jaemin would love for you to take control and fuck yourself on him. But right now, he’s too desperate to feel you.
He places both of his hands on your hips and starts pounding himself inside you. He does so slowly at first, but the needier he got, the faster he starts to fuck you.
“Can you feel me?” Jaemin asks with hitched words, biting his lower lip to prevent being too loud. “Can you feel how hard you fucking make me?”
You cry both at his words and the feeling of his cock ramming inside of you. He’s going so deep, and particularly fast, that it gives you no time to respond.
“I can’t control myself when I’m around you,” he confesses through gritted teeth, leaning down to pepper a couple of kisses on your naked back. “You’re so- hot, can’t keep my hands off of you”.
There’s something enticing about how Jaemin looks at you, about how you always catch him staring at your body at any given situation. You love how he always checks you out, how he sneakily spanks your ass while you pass by him in a public place. You love how much he likes your body, and how good he makes you feel about it.
No one has adored your body as much as he does.
“I’m all yours,” you tell him, feeling the tension starting to unravel in your lower tummy. You guide one of your hands to your throbbing clit and start rubbing it almost at the same pace as his thrusts.
Jaemin can feel how hard you’re clenching around him, how your walls are squeezing him tight, begging for his release. He knows you’re close too, again, by how wet you’re getting.
So why wait? The whole night is ahead of you, and he still has the needed stamina to fuck you in every single position he knows, so he doesn’t want to waste any more time before coming with you.
“I’m close,” he sighs, closing his eyes and kicking his head back. You feel heavenly around you, but he wants to come with you.
At the same time if possible.
“I’m too-” you cry, feeling drool spilling from your mouth and staining the bed sheets.
“Come with me,” his voice and breath are shaky, his thrusts are getting sloppier and the lewd noises coming out of his mouth get louder with each second that passes by. You know he is also close, so you decide to give in.
“Won’t hold it-” you warn him, gripping the bed sheets while you do your best to stay still. “Fuck, baby- I’m-”.
You don’t have to tell him you’re coming because he is feeling it. He can feel your walls spasming, he can see your whole body trembling and he can hear how you chant his name over and over again.
It takes him one last look to your body fucking itself into his cock to come undone, all for you. The sight of your arse pressing against him, and his hand groping the flesh of it it’s what pushes him to the highest point of his arousal.
He loves to touch you and grope you like your body belongs to him, knowing that no one else gets to feel your body like this. He loves how perfect you are, how each part of your body drives him insane.
He loves everything about you, and the adoration he holds for you is equal to the lust and desire he feels towards you.
Jaemin comes inside you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear from behind. He fills your pussy up to the brim, until it is leaking.
“Fuck,” he sighs as he manages to overcome his high. He’s breathing loudly and heavily, his throat feels dry and his head dizzy. Jaemin is still feeling the ravages of his orgasm, from the tip of his toes to his crotch.
It’s an overwhelming feeling he adores, and one he can only achieve when he is with you.
“Thank you,” you finally tell him when he plops down onto the bed. You lay right beside him, not caring that his arousal is leaking out of you. For a reason, it feels too intimate.
“For what?” Jaemin asks with a weak smile, turning to face you.
“For all your words,” you return the smile. “You always make me feel attractive, beautiful”.
Jaemin pulls your body close to him, until your head rests at the top of his naked chest. Then, he places a kiss on top of your forehead.
“You are attractive, and beautiful,” he sighs, hugging you tightly. “Perfect, even”.
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Author's note: I hope you enjoy this one! I apologize if I fucked up the grammar or spelling, english is not my first language and I haven't proofread this so I hope it's okay! This is my first drabble/story here, and I'm very happy to share it with you. Please, if you enjoy it, leave a comment or a reblog. It would mean the fucking world to me istg. Love you all!
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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 2 months
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https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMMAb4KUo/
Smut w biker Ethan Landry ?!
Hi💕 I hope you like it! I got out of the hang of writing over the last few days so I might go back and make a few changes once i re-read over this at some point lmao
Roll Up - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
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This Contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: Your boyfriend's new hobby scares you, but he shows you it isn't that bad.
Contains: Oral(f receiving), p in v, rough-ish sex.
A/N: We're going to pretend that this isn't based off of the photoshopped pics of Jack lmao. If this sucks, don't let me know. I'm sensitive👉👈
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When your boyfriend mentioned getting his motorcycle license, you thought he was crazy. You even created a power point presentation, showing him how dumb of an idea it was. He just rolled his eyes every time you made a good point, because he knew it was what he was going to do regardless.
“You aren’t going to break up with me if I get a bike, are you?” he asked, putting on his shoes as he got ready to go take the driving test. “I think it’d be a lot of fun to have one.”
“It’d take a lot more for me to break up with you…but what if something happens to you? I’d just be worried the whole time you were out,” you sighed, getting a little anxious.
You heard a knock on the door, as Ethan walked away from you to answer it. You took a deep breath when Chad walked in, carrying his extra helmet for Ethan.
“Why’d you have to corrupt my sweet boyfriend?” you asked, as Chad smiled at you.
“I think you’ll like it…Tara does,” he said, smirking at Ethan as he handed him the helmet.
“Yeah, what if I get one and you can’t keep your hands off me?” Ethan asked, cocking his eyebrow as he looked at you. “I like the sound of that.”
“Yeah, and I’d not like to hear the sound of your eulogy being spoken,” you said, as Ethan scoffed.
“You’re so overdramatic,” he said, walking over to kiss you. He placed a kiss to the tip of your nose, your lips, and your forehead before he pulled away. “I love you, baby. Wish me luck.”
“I love you, too,” you said, as both boys walked to the door. Ethan stood in the doorway for a minute, waiting for you to hear the other thing he needed you to say. “Fuck it, fine. Good luck. Please, just be careful.”
“I will, babe,” he said, chuckling as he walked out.
One thing about Ethan was that the second he got an idea in his head, you knew he was going to stop at nothing to get what he wanted. This was by far the scariest thing he’d ever wanted to do, and you’d done nothing but panic whenever you thought about it.
It all started when Chad brought Ethan to his friend’s garage, and they were talking about Chad getting his license. At first you laughed it off, thinking it was about Ethan wanting to have more in common with his best friend, but once you saw him browsing for bikes online, you realized how serious he was about it.
Once he got his learners, he started to spend more time with Chad and his friend. He’d lay in bed with you until you fell asleep, then sneak out of the bed once he’d get the text from Chad that he was outside. You hated it when you’d roll over and he wasn’t beside you, but you wanted him to practice when there were a lot less cars on the road.
He was always in the best mood when he’d come back home, still feeling the adrenaline. He tried to be quiet when he snuck back in, but you always woke up. You’d jump out of bed once you heard the shower cut on, strip off your clothes, and join him in the steamy bathroom. He’d tell you all the things he did and new stuff he learned as you sleepily listened, but it always ended in the hottest shower sex you’d ever had.
You kept checking the time on your phone, wondering what was taking Ethan so long to get back home. It’d been a few hours, and you were trying to prepare yourself. As worried as you were for him to get his license, you knew you’d be excited for him. But the possibility of him not getting it worried you more than if he did. You knew how much he wanted it, and you knew he’d be upset if he didn’t get it.
Once you saw Ethan’s name and picture flash across your phone screen, you quickly answered the call.
“Hey, babe,” you said, “How’d it go?”
You heard traffic passing him and sirens off in the distance.
“Come outside, I want to show you something.” You could hear the happiness in his voice, and you kind of had a hunch about what your boyfriend had done. Once you made your way down the stairs of your apartment complex and saw him standing there, a helmet under his arm and the matte black bike behind him, you didn’t know how to feel.
“I guess you passed,” you said, your eyes squinting as the early afternoon sunlight hit them just right. “I’m proud of you, baby.”
“I can still tell you’re mad,” he teased, as he leaned down to kiss you. “but thank you.”
“This is yours, isn’t it?” you asked, as he tried to fight off the excited smile.
“Yeah, I hope you don’t hate me because I didn’t talk to you about it first,” he said, reaching around and grabbing the extra helmet off the bike seat. “I want you to go on a ride with me.”
“Absolutely not,” you said, his smile dropping at your words. “Not right now, can we go out later tonight? I’m a little scared and I’d feel better if I didn’t feel like we were going to get hit.”
“Of course,” he said, his smile appearing on his lips again. “I think you’ll love it.”
“Whatever you say,” you said, as he grabbed your hand and led you inside.
As it got darker outside, Ethan got more excited. He knew how close he was to taking you out to see what made him almost as happy as you do. As much as you were freaking out, you knew he’d never put you in danger, and you really wanted to know what the big deal was.
“Okay,” Ethan said, as you slipped your hoodie over your head. “Just a few quick things…I know it’s a little scary, but you need to lean into any turns we take. Don’t ever let go of me and sit as close to me as you can.”
“If we lean, won’t you lose control?” you questioned, as he shook his head.
“We’re not doing anything crazy so don’t think I’m going to take you on any super curvy roads…but if you stay upright when we need to lean, that could cause me to lose control.”
“Okay,” you sighed, as he handed you the helmet.
He looked you over to make sure nothing on you was loose fitting and made sure your helmet was good before he slung his leg over the bike.
“You coming?” he asked, his hand reaching out to help you on.
“There’s not a lot of room back here,” you said, as he slid his helmet over his head.
“I already told you, just hold on to me, and stay as close as you can. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said, his words a little muffled. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” you said, as he started the bike. Your arms tightly wrapped around him, his hand rubbing against your thigh to let you know he had you before he pulled off.
He took you on a few of the streets he first learned how to drive on, not wanting to freak you out too much. Once you came to a stop light, he started to yell over the hum of the bike.
“You okay?” he asked, his hand moving to rub against your thigh again.
“Yeah, you aren’t going very fast, though,” you yelled back, as he started to laugh to himself.
“You want me to go faster?” he asked, “I just didn’t want to scare you.”
“You can go faster, just don’t kill us,” you said, as the light turned green.
He revved the engine before he sped off, going significantly faster than he did before. You didn’t feel scared though, you were…turned on? You weren’t sure if it was the vibrations coming from the bike, or how hot your boyfriend was at that moment, but you knew you were going to jump him as soon as the two of you got back home.
He started to drive out of the city, taking you to one of the back roads he’d always pull off at with his friends. He stopped in the gravel area and helped you off the bike before he got off.
“Was that too much?” he asked, pulling the helmet off of his head. You quickly pulled yours off, mumbling a “No” as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss him. Your hands went up to his curls as his tongue brushed against your bottom lip to deepen the kiss. You stood there making out, the only light coming from the full moon and the glow of the headlights.
“We need to go home soon,” you said against his lips, “I understand why you always want sex after your late-night rides.”
“We’ll head home soon babe,” he said, his hand reaching down to squeeze your ass as he pulled you closer. “Or…we could do it right here.”
“I know this is a back road, but someone could still see us,” you said, glancing at the road for any other cars off in the distance.
“So what?” he asked, as his lips moved to your neck.
He pulled away once he heard the familiar loud hum heading up the road, slowing down a little once it got closer to where you and Ethan were.
“Is that Chad?” you asked, as Ethan nodded.
“Tara’s with him,” he said, noticing her tiny frame tightly clinging to him. “Good think I didn’t get you naked yet,” he laughed a little, thinking about how awkward that would’ve been.
“You know how I am when I want sex and I don’t get it,” you said, giving him a warning look. “Please don’t get caught up in talking for too long.”
“I won’t, babe,” he said, as Chad pulled in and took his helmet off.
“She didn’t kill you!” Chad yelled, as you rolled your eyes.
Ethan walked up to him as you walked over to Tara. She had the biggest smile on her face when she saw you standing there.
“Ahh! We can go on late night rides together, now!” she said, pulling you into a hug. “Isn’t this fun?”
“Yeah, I thought it was going to be scary,” you said, glancing over to Ethan to see him smiling at you. “Now I just have to convince him to take me home soon.”
“I get it, I feel the same way,” she said, picking up on your suggestiveness.
When Ethan walked around to you, he looked a little nervous as Chad motioned for Tara to get back on the bike.
“I hope you don’t mind, but Chad wants to ride around for a little bit. There’s this straight, flat road near here that we like to go way faster than we should, but if you’d rather go home, we can.”
“As long as we go home soon, I’m fine with it,” you said, as Ethan started to smile.
“Put your helmet back on,” he said, walking you back over to his bike.
He slid his over his head and helped you get on the back before he started it again and took off. You got a little confused once you hit a certain point in the road. Chad and Ethan both came to a stop on opposite sides, as you felt his hand grip your thigh.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, the question making you nervous as Chad gave him a thumbs up.
“Yeah,” you yelled, as he said, “Hold on tight.”
He revved the engine again before taking off, going way faster than he’d gone before, at least while you were on the back. The way you were rested against Ethan made it easy for you to see that Chad was keeping pace with him before he dropped a gear and flew past Ethan. Ethan did the same, your grip on him getting even tighter as you felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins. He quickly caught back up to Chad and passed him before he started to slow down a little.
“You okay, baby?” he asked, once he came to a stop and your grip on him relaxed.
“If you don’t take me home and fuck me, I’m not going to be okay,” you said, as Chad pulled up beside you and pulled his helmet off.
“Fuck, that thing’s fast,” he said, as Ethan pulled his helmet off.
“Yeah, I didn’t expect it. We were going over a hundred,” Ethan said, your eyes going wide as you listened to him speak. “I’m going to take her home.”
“You coming back out later?” Chad asked, as Ethan shook his head.
“No, I have other plans,” he said, as Chad nodded.
“You guys have fun. Don’t be an idiot,” Chad said, putting his helmet back on before speeding off.
“Over a hundred?!” you yelled, as Ethan started to laugh.
“Yeah, and I wasn’t going as fast as I could’ve,” he said, putting his helmet back on. “Let’s get you home.”
As soon as he got you home, you both were so needy. Various clothing items were scattered across your apartment, from the front door to the bedroom you shared with Ethan. He wasted no time, burying his head in between your thighs as soon as he pushed you back on your bed. Your fingers ran through his curls as soft moans slipped past your lips. His hands were kneading at your thighs as his tongue swirled around your sensitive clit.
“Use your fingers, babe,” you gasped out, as he suckled on your clit. He did what you said, sliding two of his fingers into your soaked, dripping pussy with ease. “Fuck, just like that.”
“Did being on the back of my bike turn you on that much?” he asked, his eyes boring into yours as he curved his fingers to brush against that spongy spot inside of you. “Yes,” you said, letting out a low moan. “You were just so fucking hot.”
His mouth went back to your clit as you tugged at his curls, the sounds of him fucking you with his fingers and your moans filling the room. His free hand was roaming your body, from your thighs up to your breasts. Once he started to pinch one of your nipples, you felt that familiar feeling starting to build inside of you.
Ethan knew you were close. Your legs were starting to shake as his fingers moved against your g-spot faster. He sucked your clit into his mouth, hard. Your back arched up off the bed as you pulled his hair so hard that it hurt. He didn’t let up though.
You let out a whimper as the feeling washed over you, your pussy fluttering around his fingers. He gently lapped at your clit until you started to come down from your high.
The grip you had on his hair relaxed as he sat up to look at you, his mouth coated in your arousal.
“Do I still have hair?” he asked, running his fingers through his curls. His scalp was so sensitive that he winced when he touched it.
“I’m sorry, baby,” you mumbled, as your breathing started to get a little more regular.
“It’s worth it if I made you cum that hard,” he said, smiling at you. “I loved having you on the back of my bike. It’s like you weren’t scared at all.”
“I wasn’t. I trust you.”
As much as Ethan loved watching your face when he fucked you, he wanted to be as deep as he could inside your warm, wet pussy. He positioned you so your ass was sticking up in the air for him as the side of your face rested against the cool comforter.
“So fucking perfect,” he said, rubbing the tip of his cock over your wet folds. “You ready, baby?”
“Yes,” you said, as he started to inch himself inside of you. The slight burning feeling as he stretched you out made you gasp, his hand roaming over your lower back as his hip bones met the curve of your ass.
He started out with slow thrusts, still giving you time to adjust. Once you whined out to let him know you wanted more, he moved faster. You heard the soft slapping of his skin against yours as the head of his cock hit that special spot inside of you. You glanced back to see him watching his cock disappear inside your pussy, slide himself out, head and all, before he started to pound into you.
“Fuck,” you whimpered, your eyes still on him as your hands grabbed at the sheets.
He looked up to watch your body as you started to roll your hips back, meeting his thrusts. His cheeks were red as his mouth hung open, a few of his curls sticking to his forehead. One of his hands tightly held your hip as his other hand reached around brushing against your lower stomach. You soon felt two of his fingers strumming against your clit, your moans getting louder by the second.
“Harder,” you whimpered, a smirk playing on his lips as he started to mercilessly pound into your pussy.  
 “That’s it, baby. You take it so fucking well,” he said, some of his words getting broken by the random grunts slipping past his lips.
Once he put the right amount of pressure on your clit and started to roll his fingers in circles, you felt your body start to tense up, your orgasm sneaking up on you. You were a whimpering mess as the slapping sounds got louder, echoing off the walls. He was getting close, but he was trying so hard to fight it.
He watched your fists ball up in the fitted sheet, pulling it lose as you cried out. Your pussy was squeezing him so tight that his thrusts started to falter.
“Where do you want it?” he rushed out, but you couldn’t form words, completely fucked out.
He slid out of you, releasing his hot cum all over your ass and lower back. His hand ran through his sweaty hair before he flopped down on the bed beside you. Your hips started to relax as you eased the lower half of your body to lay flat across the bed.
“Jesus,” he sighed, catching his breath. “That was amazing.”
“Was it as good as the shower sex?” you asked, smiling as you turned your head to face him.
“Well, we do still need to shower…”
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strawbeelemonade · 1 year
Text
ROMANTIC HEADCANNONS: Pavitr Prabhakar
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@emmy-luv Hi! this is literally the first request i've ever gotten!! i literally watched the new movie last night and started working on this immedietely after beecause i was so excited. there aren't really any spoilers in here- but i got a better feel for Pavitr's charecter after watching it so i'm glad i waited. i hope you enjoy :D
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🕷 - Pavitr falls hard and fast.
🕷 - A die hard romantic at heart. He sees you, and he’s immediately taken by everything about you. His heightened senses will clue him in to even the smallest of quirks or habits, and oh! The way you scrunch up your nose is so cute!
🕷 - In the first instance of meeting you he is 100% all over you instantly.
🕷 - he'll talk a mile a minute about anything he has any input on. He also waits eagerly to hear what you have to say, tell him what you think! how do you feel about this? what do you think about that? This colour suits him, no? He knew you’d think so! That’s why he wore it.
🕷 - It’s his way bonding with you. He’s just so excited to chat with you. "This colour would look nice on you, Jalebi."
🕷 - He will show off in front of you. YOU KNOW HE WILL.
🕷- He will be over the top while doing even the most mundane things. You know those crazy stunts they pull off in Bollywood movies? Yeah it’s kind of like that.
🕷 - From opting to athletically dive off of a building instead of taking the stairs, to backflipping gracefully into a sitting on a chair. All the while he’s peaking discreetly over his shoulder to make sure you’re watching.
🕷 - he’s a little strange lmao
🕷 - He wants to look good for you, usually his fantastic looks are low maintenance but he finds himself picking up a new spray in the hopes for you to notice. And, not that he needs it, but you’ve even gotten him to start using conditioner. oh ho boy, You’ve really got him wrapped around your finger.
🕷 - He seeks out your approval, and when he gets it he absolutely preens. even a fool would recognise the puppy love from a mile away.
🕷 - He is naturally confident, and he wholeheartedly believes in his abilities. But everyone gets a little nervous when they have a crush, even Pavitr.
🕷 - Surprisingly he can become flustered quite quickly if you’re too generous with your compliments. His laugh will get louder and and his ears will go a bit red.
🕷 - He will swoop in to your rescue every chance he gets. It might get annoying to you after a while, or not. just be careful, If you make the mistake of complaining about the traffic of the city then you’ll find yourself suddenly hundreds of feet swinging the air in the direction you were headed.
🕷 - …What? He likes how you feel against him, carrying you is a breeze for him, he is incredibly strong after all. just sit back and enjoy the ride.
🕷 - I hope you don’t value your personal space. He’ll glue himself hip too hip with you whenever he can. He’s all over you in many other ways as well. He’s very touchy feely with those he’s affectionate with.
🕷 - if you’ve watched the movie you’ll know that he’s a great judge of character, and he’s also particularly in tune with your emotions. If you need space he will endure through the terrible experience of not being near you 24-7. He’s being very brave about it!!!
🕷 - just because he's clingy doesn't mean he isn't respectful.
🕷 - If your feeling out of place in a room he will find a way out for the both of you to get away for a bit.
🕷 - If there’s one thing you don’t have to worry about its a lack of transparency. Pavitr is honest with his intentions from the get go and will profess his loyalty for you so that theres no way to confuse his intentions. It might’ve already been a bit obvious when he started giving you flowers… But oh well, you appreciate his forwardness anyway?
🕷 - He introduces you to his family! He’s serious about you, after all. He will do everything to ensure you feel welcome in their home. He emphasises your radiant personality to his aunty by speaking out about all of your wonderful qualities while simultaneously showing how dutiful he can be to you by running to get you both some more Paneer Pakora and Masala chai.
🕷 - He can do long distance. No, really. Love is not dead. He will travel any distance to see you.
🕷 - Wether you’re from another dimension or you’re his next door neighbour he will make it work.
🕷 - If you’re from another universe your own city’s assigned Spider-person might get shown up by him a bit, this is even if you aren’t personally acquainted with them. His eagerness to show off in front of you might cause a few problems.
🕷 - It's not insecurity per se… he just needs to make sure you know how much better he is! All harmless fun!
🕷 - In the case that you are close with them Pavitr will rise to the challenge of any competition he picks up on between him and the other spider.
🕷 - If you need any rescuing then he’s there in an instant, revelling in getting to be the one to carry you to safety. he will laugh and crack quick witted quips to assure you that everything is ok. If you’re left shaken and in need of a little comfort he will gladly coo and dote on you gently. “Its ok, sweetie, main idhar hi hoon."
🕷 - If you’re ever in any danger— any real danger— all theatrics are off, and he will find himself moving faster, striking harder and fighting more forcefully then he’s ever had before. his heart is in his throat every second you’re in peril, and he won’t stop until you are in his arms.
🕷 - The moment you are safe he holds you tight, tighter than ever before. Voice quaking, he whispers how glad he is that you’re ok. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability for him, To bear the fear he’s feeling to you. He won't let you go for a while after that.
🕷 - If you’re even a little hurt he acts like you’re dying.
🕷 - “What’s this!! A mark? MEDIC!!!”
🕷 - Don’t worry, he’ll make sure you get any attention you need, medical or otherwise.
🕷 - smooch.
🕷 - He is incredibly cheesy. But he means well!
🕷 - He’s thoughtful, too. Your time spent together will be filled with well planned dates, maybe sharing some good traditional food in front of some gorgeous scenery. He’s an utter gentleman and takes pride in sweeping you off your feet.
🕷 - he can also be a bit over the top, but he means well!
🕷 - He’ll stay true to you, no matter what.
🕷 - If you ever ask him for anything then your request takes first priority. he will drop almost anything that he’s doing to satisfy you (this doesn’t include a bus full of passengers hanging off a cliff sorry).
🕷 - If you aren’t from India, or even from Mumbatan then he will be so excited to share his part of the world with you! He’s proud of his culture, and If you take an interest in it his heart will swell three sizes bigger. He appreciates that you’re so respectful and will patiently explain or share whatever you’re interested in to you.
🕷 - I feel like he’d know a lot of yo-yo tricks. he’ll show you a few of the ones he pioneered himself.
🕷- he strikes me as a peck on the cheek kind of guy.
🕷 - he’s also super cuddly! do i even have to say?
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"Jalebi": a type of sweet that’s popular in the indian subcontinent
CHANGED: "yahee hai, yahee hai, priy." : That’s it, That’s it, dear.
TO: "main idhar hi hoon" : "I'm right here."
( thank you sm @bluebird-in-the-breeze for leaving a comment with the corrections to the dialogue :') i'm so lucky that you saw it and i'm really thankful that you were kind enough to help me improve it. your a real one fr!!)
Masala Chai: Masala tea (a type of tea.)
Paneer Pakora: a popular snack in Delhi, its Indian cottage cheese deep fried in a light coating of spiced flour. (yummy!)
Mumbatan: the in-spiderverse mashup of Manhatten and Mumbai (Mumbai is the capital state of Maharashtra, India)
I put these here so if anyone has any corrections i could make to the terms I’ve used to be more accurate then I can change them accordingly. I used online translators and articles… if anyone has any good websites for translating Hindi* or any other languages let me know! i'd be really interested.
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klmp11s · 9 days
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Heyyyyy, could I request Malleus, Jack, Idia, and Floyd with a reader who can and will pick them up? (I tried to pick some of the tallest characters)
(English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes)
Summary: twst boys with reader who can and will pick them up Characters: Jack Howl, Floyd Leech, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia Warning: Strong male!reader, Established relationships, ooc(?), hcs
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Jack Howl
Okay, he's shocked Like you just.. picked HIM up like he weighed nothing?? What?? Okay, it doesn’t matter at all how tall you are, he will feel his face burning in any case. I think he could feign displeasure and ask you to put him down, but he definitely won't say anything against it if you don't. PLEASE don't pick him up in front of other freshmen or people from his dorm. He will be ready to burn with embarrassment I'm not 110% sure that his tail will literally become a propeller lol AND HE WILL NOT LIKE IT He might even get used to this “habit” of yours over time. He will definitely stop paying much attention to your actions, like, yes, you do this literally every chance you get, he knows Having gone through literally all stages of acceptance, he definitely realizes that he likes it. Like, his loved one is next to him and maintains physical contact in a way that is comfortable for him, isn’t that good? He wouldn't directly ask you to pick him up. Nope, but he could definitely give long glances at your hands, be closer than usual, etc. Like, yes, he loves you, but you have to understand for yourself what he needs, it’s too embarrassing for him to say directly, you know?
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Floyd Leech
LMAO YOUR MISTAKE, CONGRATULATIONS, NOW YOU CAN'T GET AWAY FROM HIM 🤗 Like, you've already walked on thin ice with your ways of showing affection, but take him in your arms - he's ready to get down on one knee with a ring in his hand (I'm pretty sure there's a cartoon eel on the ring lol) Now you MUST carry him everywhere, you must pick him up and carry him wherever HE wants, no matter the time or place. He is literally ready to jump into your arms both in the middle of a crowded corridor and at some “important” event Is he in a bad mood? You have to take him where he wants to go. Is he in a good mood? You take him wherever he wants and he arranges a casual date for you. He also doesn't care at all who sees the two of you. Azul and Jade? They see this picture every day. One of the teachers? And what can they do to him? Just some random student? He didn't even notice him. If you pick him up from some boring class, he literally won't shut up for the rest of your "trip" I hope you're glad you have hand day every day now, because Floyd isn't going to give you a break after you've demonstrated what you can do.
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Idia Shroud
LMAO WHERE ARE YOU GOING TO PICK HIM UP? FROM COMPUTER DESK TO BED? You're right, now he's completely confused, confused and doesn't know what to do in this situation. Okay, maybe he's dreaming? As you continue to tell him about your day, still holding him in your arms, it dawns on him that this doesn't feel like a dream at all. Oh. OH WAIT WHAT- Now for a week he definitely avoids coming close to you. He loves you, but please give him a few working days to come to his senses after this. Okay, now you use it against him. Has it already passed midnight? Take him in your arms and carry him to bed. What can he do to you? At first, he definitely showed his dissatisfaction, but soon he already accepted his fate and even waited for the time when you would come to him. He would definitely fall asleep in your arms a couple of times. You know, the state when you are so tired that all you want is, no matter where, to sleep for several hours in a row I dare say that his sleep pattern is literally based on your habit. By the way you come to his room, he can tell that in half an hour he will already be lying in bed with you in your arms.
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Malleus Draconia
He's in love I'm not kidding, you constantly surprise him, don't you? He's never been treated like this, and now you, the man he's head over heels in love with, just pick him up and pick him up? He doesn't even know what to do in such situations. He could definitely ask you to pick him up next time. I don't think he would ASK you to pick him up, but it's not like he's against the idea, you know? This is unusual and however he does not feel uncomfortable, so if you want this, he is always for it. He doesn't care if other students see you. But believe me, if Sebek sees you two, you will HEAR HIM first and only then will he appear in your field of vision lol He is definitely the only one of this group who will take your actions completely calmly. Like, yes, this is unusual, but also nothing completely “out of the ordinary” happened, right? If you carry him in your arms during your nightly dates, he will be on the verge 🤏 to resist the desire to propose to you. I mean: you, your beautiful face in the moonlight, the silence of the night, your calm voice and loving gaze that is directed only at him? Darling, he falls in love with you even more
The characters do not belong to me, they belong to their rightful owners, please do not edit, translate, repost my works on other platforms, also without my permission and @
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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months
Text
Clubbing Catastrophe
Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
A/N: Direct continuation to "Roller Rinking, Dancing And Dreaming" Vox and Reader are still on their "date"(?) I say that with heavy quotations because they are moving slower than a frickin snail- not to mention that it's practically like a group outing at this point LMAO- I think this chapter is actually pretty fun and we see some flirting? Or at least very very odd attempts at it- Also we get some protective Voxy! Before he unceremoniously almost puts himself out of commission because we playin with him too much HAHAHAHA also there's been requests in the past for Reader to get flustered- so here it isss!
A/N: This interlude probably isn't as long as the other ones- but I had fun writing this and I'll be back with other ideas pretty quickly too. As always, I hope you guys enjoy the story and Happy Reading!
It didn't take long for you to find your groove in the music that blasted through the club.
Twirling around on your feet and dancing to the beat alongside the other partygoers.
Vox had wandered away from you a little while ago to get himself a drink, even if he was hesitant at first to leave you.
"Are you sure? I can just get it later-"
"You worry too much dude! I'll be fine, it's just a few minutes!"
It took a bit of convincing before you managed to get the overlord to stop worrying and he disappeared into the crowd.
You couldn't help feeling flattered that he cared that much though.
Even so, you wouldn't be surprised if it was leftover nerves because of the scare you both had a few days ago with you dying and all-
"Hey cutie~ What's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?"
A slurred voice came from nearby, great- just another wasted idiot.
A frown formed on your face as your ears pinned backwards, a taller sinner moving to approach you with a sinister grin.
You stopped dancing, crossing your arms and glaring at them.
"I'm just here to enjoy with my friends, I'm not interested in any of your crap."
"Aw come on doll, don't be like that~ let me take you out for some fun~"
You cringed at the petname and just moved backwards as the stranger reached out towards you.
It was never really an issue when Vox did it, but it felt abhorrently disgusting hearing it from someone else's mouth.
There was just none of the charisma and all of the revulsion.
"Uh, no thanks and don't call me that."
"Aww, why not doll~?"
"Because only I can do that, got a fucking problem?"
You felt the buzz of static charge before Vox suddenly appeared in front of you with a swift bolt of blue electricity.
It was shocking to see him return so quickly but you felt relieved nonetheless.
Curious at the sudden silence, you peeked from behind your techno companion to see the sinner that was earlier trying to pull a move on you look like they were going to shit themselves on the spot.
You couldn't help but giggle when they immediately mumbled apologies and just ran off, tail between their legs.
Maybe having an overlord for a buddy really did have it's perks-
"Did they do anything to you?"
You snapped out of your cheeky headspace when you realize Vox was giving you a once over.
His concerned gaze meeting your own when he couldn't notice anything physically out of sorts.
Did he always look this good?
You could hear your pulse ring in your ears, a fuzzy warmth blooming in your chest that seemingly came out of nowhere.
The overlord simply raised an eyebrow when you suddenly looked away, shyly tucking a strand of hair out of your face.
"I-I'm good! Thanks for the save... I could've handled that- you know."
Huh.
How cute of you.
Vox couldn't help the smug smile when he realized you'd gotten flustered over his chivalrous gesture.
It really wasn't much of an effort on his end but he figured it wouldn't hurt to prod you juuuust a little.
"Suuuure you could, but don't you think I should get a reward for protecting you?"
The overlord was almost concerned that you hurt yourself with how quickly your head turned to look at him.
Almost.
"H-huh?! Oh fine... what do you have in mind?"
Your tone feigned annoyance but your eyes told a completely different story.
What was with that eager gaze?
Vox really didn't expect to see that from you, this was just supposed to be a harmless game!
Yet now you were starting to make even him nervous-
His TV screen buffered slightly before Vox collected himself, he couldn't tease you properly if he was embarrassed too.
"It's nothing big, just- zZzST- buy me a drink?"
You merely raised an eyebrow at him before rolling your own eyes, where did all his confidence just go?
Hm... that meant the ball was in your court now.
Let's see just how far you could push it.
With a subtle smirk, you grabbed the lapels of Vox's blazer to pull him down to be eye-level with you.
That really caught the overlord off guard, his wide eyes seeming to question your intentions.
Well, that was before his processing immediately screeched to a halt when you pressed a chaste kiss on the side of his screen where his cheeks would be.
"I'll be at the bar, don't keep me waiting."
He kind of just stood there dumbfounded when you let go and sauntered away, just earlier you'd been flustered and shy???
What the hell was that?!
His screen immediately tinged red and he had to reboot several times to avoid crashing entirely.
Seriously what the FUCK was that?!
Thank goodness for the colorful flashing lights though because he wouldn't be able to disguise his screen freaking out hadn't there been any.
You found yourself covering your face as you went over to the bar and ordered a margarita for yourself and just some rum for Vox.
You internally panicked while just watching the bartender prepare your beverage.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-
Just what in God's name were you bloody thinking?!
"Heya shortcakes, been enjoying yourself?"
"Kind of? I feel like I did something kind of stupid though-"
"Uh oh, what did you do?"
You looked at Angel apprehensively, should you tell him?
Ah whatever, just a little chat while waiting for Vox wouldn't hurt.
"I- It's just a game- right? Like, I mess with Vox and he just does it back- so it should be okay??"
Angel just nonchalantly watched you practically fall at the seams, for someone so confident and sassy-
All it took was a certain mister tall and electric boogaloo to have you all over the place.
"Toots, you're actin like you poisoned him or something."
"Angel, I'm pretty sure what I did was worse- way worse."
"What the fuck could possibly be worse than tryin to kill someone?"
You rapidly mumbled out a reply, practically eating your words when the bartender placed your ordered drinks in front of you.
Angel just couldn't understand what your issue was though and asked again.
"Seriously! It can't be that bad?"
"I may have... sortakindakissedhim-"
Angel did a spit take on the cocktail he was drinking.
"YOU DID WHAAAAT?!"
You had to cover your ears and just shush the hell out of your spider companion when he was immediately all over you.
At this rate from how loud the arachnid was being you wouldn't be surprised if nearly everyone around you could piece what was going on.
"Oh my god- WAHAH- and Husker was sayin it would never happen!"
"It was just on the cheek Angel! Now fucking shut it already!
"Am I... intruding on something here?"
Oh god-
Couldn't the timing have been any worse?!
You wanted to crawl into a hole and die again.
Angel just laughed at your embarrassment and Vox's obvious cluelessness.
The overlord was only able to approach a little while ago, so he didn't hear much of the conversation.
And that totally wasn't because he had to reboot himself up several times.
Yeah that totally wasn't because he was busy trying not to crash his systems after what you did.
"Well, I'll leave you two ta figure things out. It's like watching a shitty romcom but live!"
You just shoved Angel off his chair with a grumble, making the spider simply laugh once more at you before disappearing into the crowd on the dance floor.
Seriously-
This was real life, not a fuckin romantic drama-
Eughhhhhh-
"Do... I even wanna know?"
"I'd honestly rather you didn't."
You slid Vox his drink when he sat next to you, taking a sip of your cocktail to try and hide the blush on your face.
For once, the two of you were just silent.
Neither knowing where to even start a conversation when you just decided to throw caution to the wind anyway.
"Look, about earlier-"
It didn't occur to you that the technology overlord sitting by your side was seriously finding amusement in your embarrassment, just watching and listening to you ramble on and on like a fool.
Well, a cute fool.
Swirling the drink in his hand, Vox used his other hand to push some of your hair away from your face.
The fact you were so worked up about the kiss you gave him was just hilarious.
You didn't even comprehend what he was doing until you felt a slight electrical jolt to your forehead.
It didn't hurt, but it was noticeable enough for you to suddenly stop talking.
"There, now we're even."
You looked at the technology overlord with wide eyes as he just sipped on his drink so casually.
Did-
Did this fucker really just-?!
You could feel your face just explode in a blush, your heart absolutely beating in your ears as the club seemed a bit too warm now.
You threw your hands over your face and just made some unintelligible noise in utter embarrassment.
Vox couldn't help but chuckle as he glanced over at you.
Suffice to say, he wins this round.
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captainfern · 11 months
Note
omg this thought instantly brought me here. what about dbf! price coming back from deployment to see you crying in your room, cause you missed him. fluffy as hell, just him cooing sweet stuff in ur ear !!!!
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Marigold pt. 2
dbf!Captain John Price x fem!reader
[“Marigold” by Nirvana]
[SFW]
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• summary - what the request says :) • rating - sfw • wordcount - 1.1k • warnings - fem!reader, dad’sbestfriend!price, established relationship?, age gap [whatever you want it to be as long as it's legal lmao], daddy issues probably but what's new, also your dad and price watch rugby together so sorry to americans or ppl from other countries where rugby isn't a huge thing 😭
another non-porn post from fern???? ikr i'm as surprised as you are lmao
uh anyway enjoy some more comfort/fluff/self-indulgence
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"Hey mate, I'm just popping to the shops, ya need anything?" Your dad asked as Price got out of his car, now parked in your driveway.
Price shook his head, a bag of groceries already tucked beneath his arm. "Nah mate, I'm all good. What are you off to get?"
Your dad sighed, leaning against his car, parked next to Price's.
"She's not feeling well," your dad said, nodding towards the house. "Holed herself in her room, crying and moping about god knows what. So I'm gonna head to the shops and pick her up something sweet."
Price smiled at your dad. "She's lucky to have you, mate."
Your dad smiled back. "Thanks, John. Now, make yourself at home. I'll be twenty minutes. We still have half an hour before kickoff, so I'm hoping to be back in time!"
He hopped into his car as Price waved him off, clambering up the steps and through the front door. He watched from the window as your dads car drove away, dumping his bag of groceries on the kitchen counter. Then, he waited a couple of minutes, hands in his pockets, day-dreaming while looking out the window.
Yeah, who was he trying to fool?
He hurried towards the staircase, bounding up two at a time. He immediately crossed towards your bedroom, and rapped his knuckles gently on the wooden panelling.
"Yeah?" Came your soft voice, and Price felt his heart lurch.
He carefully opened the door and slipped inside.
You were curled up beneath your plush duvet, facing away from the door. The room was dark, asides from the lamp on your bedside table, casting pinkish-gold light into the room. By the door, he could see the shape of you, and saw the way your body trembled and heaved with silent breaths.
"Aw, sweetheart." Price uttered lowly, voice sympathetic as he sunk down beside you.
You dragged yourself around, sitting up and letting the duvet fall, bunched, onto your lap. Your lip jutted in a slight pout, eyes glassy and hair dishevelled.
"Price?" You whispered.
"Come here." Price whispered in return, gathering you into his arms. You sobbed out as he pulled you into his lap so you were straddling him, face buried in his chest as he hugged you tightly to him.
He was warm, smelling of pine and tobacco and fresh linen. A large hand cupped the back of your head, pressing you close, making your ears burn. You sniffled into his chest as he held you, silence blooming through the room.
"I... I didn't know you were coming back today...?" You muttered, pulling yourself away from his chest.
He cupped your face in both hands, taking a moment to stare at your face. Dark eyes flitted across, from your eyes to your lips and back again. His thumb stroked your cheekbone, and you keened into the light touch.
"Your dad not tell you?" Price placed a kiss to your forehead. "Got home this morning. Slept for half the bloody day, and now your dad and I are watching the rugby."
You shook your head tiredly, and Price tutted. He then pressed numerous small kisses across your face, and you closed your eyes at the feeling; basking in the way his lips ghosted across your skin, over your cheeks and cheekbones, across your forehead, down your nose, stopping at your lips.
The kiss there was a bit heavier, and you found yourself whimpering into it, opening your mouth in an attempt to urge him further. But he pulled back, your head still cradled in his hands.
"What's got you so upset, sweetheart?"
"I..." You bit your lip. Frankly, the real reason was slightly embarrassing, and you knew that he'd make some kind of snide joke.
You averted your eyes. "Imissedyou," you rambled, lips barely moving.
"Slow down," Price breathed, laughing slightly.
You sighed, eyes still stinging with tears. "I missed you."
You waited for him to chuckle at you, to poke fun of you for sulking away in your bedroom like a little kid. You expected him to go real dad's best friend and joke about girls and their dramatics, something your dad would laugh at, too.
But, he didn't.
Price simply moved one large hand to the small of your back, pressing you impossibly closer to him, making you straddle him even further. His other hand shifted to your neck— a firm, warm presence— and angled your face to look at his.
"Aw, my poor baby," he muttered, tone dripping with sincerity. "I was only gone for two weeks this time 'round."
You whined, trying to press forward and kiss him, but he kept you in place. "S'just too long," you whined again, hands groping at his chest and arms.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry, sweetheart," He hushed and you gave up your desperate movements— instead opting to slouch further into his hold, something that he appreciated. The hand on the back of your neck moved to massage the base of your skull, then up to skim down your hairline, finally petting your hair towards the crown.
He did this for a long time. He punctuated the silence with soft bouts of praise, often spurred on when you hiccupped or took a shuddering breath, trying to prevent tears from spilling.
"S'alright, my darling, I'm here."
"It's okay, sweetheart, it's okay."
"I've got you, baby."
"Shh, shh, that's enough, pretty girl, no more tears, eh?"
Eventually, Price tuned his ears to the sound of a familiar engine rumbling into the driveway. He sighed, breathing in your comforting scent for just a moment longer, before he delicately placed you back on your bed.
He got to his feet. "You alright now, sweetheart?"
You nodded, feeling all warm inside. "Yeah, I'm alright."
Price nodded, reaching out a hand to cup your jaw, angling your face upwards. He leaned down, slotting his mouth to yours, and he hummed appreciatively when you kissed him back.
"Should probably go help your dad with the groceries," Price mumbled against your lips as you continued to try and kiss him, your hand already brushing his abdomen. "He'd be livid if we missed kickoff."
You grumbled at him, begrudgingly breaking the kiss.
He chuckled, kissing the top of your head before backing out of your room.
"I missed you too." He said, eyes soft and filled with adoration.
Then, he was gone, just as the front door opened and your father's vibrant voice filled the house. You assumed Price made it to the door, as your dad was immediately talking about rugby.
You smiled, insides made of ichor, warm and cozy. Your skin still tingled from where he kissed you, and you flopped backwards, burying your face into your pillow, resisting the urge to scream in delight.
Price was home.
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not edited lol sorry for any mistakes 🙏
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ozzgin · 4 months
Note
I can't get your yakuza headcanons out of my mind, Daitou's got me in a chokehold and I'm not complaining, like--
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in regards to that doodle you made to show height difference between reader and the boys [I love your art btw (●♡∀♡)] - I can't picture myself in reader's style, I'm currently going through my goth phase in my 20s lmao; picture a big bitch with tattoos and messy hair who's listening to nothing but 2000s hits and screamo bands - so I'd like to request a headcanon of how Daitou would react to a gender-neutral reader like this :D I also like to incorporate the idea of them once being in a famous band that he's a fan of! (sorry if this seems like a lot, I have a huge imagination hehe)
but if he's more into the cute and helpless type, I'll just walk my ass out the door and yeehaw my way into another yandere's arms ✌😔
That's on me for not drawing the reader inserts as cartoonish cinder blocks :') In truth I'm a little bit embarrassed seeing how many likes that doodle has gotten, it was something I put together in a hurry and the clothing was meant to be baggy, shapeless, with not too many folds for the sake of simplicity. I myself am more of a pilgrim goth, just to emphasize the randomness of the choice.
Drawing reader inserts always leaves me a little anxious. If I use a light shade of gray, will people think I'm excluding poc? Will plus sized readers feel like they've been disregarded? What about masculine readers? As someone who's demiromantic I always struggle taking appearance or gender into consideration, because to me it has no influence whatsoever. Which is hard to express when you want to offer blank slate visuals as an extra to the story.
What I'm trying to say is that all of my characters would like you for who you are. Sure, they find your looks cute, but it's not the defining reason. Maybe you have similar traits to them, maybe you're the complete opposite and they find it intriguing. You could be a buff man and Daitou would be just as grateful to have someone who isn't afraid of him. I usually stick to a female reader for bigger stories to avoid messing it up long term, but in the grand scheme of things it makes no difference. I always imagine reader to be a shapeless blob that provides the dialogue I need for the story mood. There's no concrete preference or type for any of my OCs. I mean, ideally you'd like them back and not hang them upside down above a BBQ pit but I feel these are sensible requirements (?).
And now for the actual headcanons since my ramble is over.
First encounter is comically awkward but for reasons you’re unaware of yet. You’re obviously used to people staring at you (more so in a country like Japan), so you were expecting the curious glance every now and then. On the other hand, being under scrutiny, from a man even more unusual looking than you at that, is odd. Mildly uncomfortable. You’re shifting yourself from one leg to another, hoping to be done with the introductions soon.
On his end, Daitou is anxiously fidgeting and trying his best to focus. He’s seen this face before and he can’t shake off the familiar feeling. Where the hell…He obviously can’t downright gawk at you, and he isn’t sure how to politely formulate a question. After several sheepish peeks, it finally dawns on him: weren’t you part of that band he really likes? No, what would the chances be? Then again, how many people out there would look exactly like you? Is it rude to ask? He has no idea. He resumes his mumbled description of the apartment and hands you the papers to be signed.
Back at his place, he finally digs through his merch and sprawls out the available clues. “I didn’t know you were into this kind of music”, Kazuya comments as he looks over the man’s shoulder. He’d come over to ask about the new tenant. “I’m pretty sure it’s them.” He concludes, confidently placing his index over a CD cover. “Huh? Who? The tenant?” Kazuya holds back his chuckle. “Why would a celebrity show up for a shady apartment offer? You’re tripping, man.”
“I’m sorry, this is getting ridiculous.” You finally exclaim, annoyed by the persistent stares of the now two men facing you. You’re standing in front of the apartment building, arms crossed, huffing at the tall scarred man and his blonde friend. “No, I’m sure of it. Even the tattoo is the same.” Daitou turns to whisper to Kazuya, oblivious to your complaints. In turn, Kazuya lightly elbows him, mouthing something about being rude. “Just ask them, man.” He adds, this time louder. “Ask me what??” You groan. “W-were you…um…in this band by any chance?” Daitou manages to blurt out, searching his pocket for the CD case and ceremoniously laying it under your eyes.
Ah. It finally clicks and you exhale, relieved. You confirm their suspicions and show them some backstage photos to solidify your claim. You ask Daitou if he wants an autograph or something, then swiftly scribble your signature on a piece of paper and hand it out to him. He holds it with a wide, childish grin. “You’re a weird one, you know? You could’ve just asked. I guess I didn’t expect to find a fan in the wild, especially here.” Daitou carefully folds the souvenir, eyes lidded with nostalgia. “Oh yes, it’s great. Drowns out the screams.”
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mandalhoerian · 1 year
Text
lamb to the slaughter | leon kennedy x reader
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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!
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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.
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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.”
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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.  
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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. 
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ghouljams · 8 months
Note
Medievall au Konig…
King of a neighboring kingdom, who is declaring war. The king and queen, parents of Ghost’s princess, offer her hand in marriage as a peace offering. inviting him over to shortly court/get to know the princess, but falls in love with her lady in waiting? (or any type of servant/help type worker)
God this is dangerously close to my cursed king König from my novel and I am for REAL holding myself back here. This isn't going to be König's new medieval au, but I wanna see Ghost sweat and I love causing the princess pain. So I’m using my cursed König here, because I love him, and also because he’s just a little fucked up, and also also because he is just... incapable of loving the princess lmao
You hate this.
Your maids have spent all day preparing you to meet a man that could become your husband. A king. You pout as they scrub you with perfumed soaps, rubbing scented oils into your skin and hair until every nook and crevice if you is soft and sweet. It's truly the most extensive bath you've ever had, and all you can think of is how badly you don't want it to end. The same with your makeup and your hair, all the primping and poking takes far longer than you would've liked, and yet far shorter than you need. It's miserable, and your maids are too chatty, too excited. They don't leave you alone long enough to cry.
Your parents, well your mother, have planned a rather elaborate dinner to introduce you and the neighboring King. You desperately want to kick and scream, throw things and make a mess until someone takes notice of your misery and puts a stop to it. Your maids tighten the strings of your dress, fix your necklace until it sits just right on your chest, spritz you with perfume, and tip your tiara until it catches the light with the sparkle of tears in your eyes.
"You look beautiful m'lady," your lady in waiting smiles, squeezing your shoulders tight in an approximation of a hug. It's not a comfort. You feel like a horse being trussed up for the market. You say nothing, you think she gets the idea. She's always been a good friend to you. "Maybe he'll be terribly rude and ugly, and the King will kick him out before the meal is over," she suggests.
"One can only hope," you mumble.
Ghost isn’t waiting for you outside your quarters door. Your eyes dart around the hallway, past the knight that offers you an introduction. He should be here, why isn’t he here? He wouldn’t leave you if something important didn’t come up, something must have happened. You turn to your maid, confusion stealing away your anxiety for the moment. 
“Where’s Ghost?” You ask her. You hardly have a spare moment to feel sorry you’ve ignored this poor knight who you’re sure is his stand-in.
“Orders of the King,” The knight tells you, “I’ll be your guard from now on.”
Your heart falls. They’re really serious about this. You wonder if your mother put up a fight, if she was the one to suggest it. It feels like a betrayal of the highest order to look at this knight and tell him.
“I’ll be in your care.”
When all you want to do is throw a royal fit and tell him to get Ghost or get out. You suppose you could. You could go back into your room and send word you won’t be attending anything. Be a true royal brat. You shudder to think what would become of you if you did. Without Ghost to protect you, there’s no telling how quickly you’d be dragged from your quarters. Placed in front of your royal guest kicking and screaming, what a first impression that would be.
It feels like a funeral procession walking down the hall towards the formal dining room. Your feet hardly want to carry you, but you can’t run with an unfamiliar knight at your heel. For all you know he’d chase you down under your parents orders. That was the one thing you never had to worry about with Ghost, perhaps you took it for granted how loyal he was to you and only you.
You stop in front of the heavy wood doors. You don’t even get a moment to collect yourself, barely get a squeeze of your hand from your lady-in-waiting before the guards on either side open them. Immediately your worry over Ghost is replaced by anxiety for yourself.
The doors open, the guests at the table stand, and you look up, up, up, at the man you assume is your neighbor King. The height of him, the sheer mass of musculature and masculinity frighten you. You thought Ghost was tall, does this fucker come from a land of giants? The King tips his head to you, and you dip into a low curtsy. As well trained as ever.
"König," your father smiles, a ringing rising in your ears as König stares you down, "this is our daughter, Princess-" You wish you could say he at least seems interested in you. He doesn't. His eyes look bored at best and disdainful at worst. You wish you could say more but the lower half of his face is masked. You'd wonder what that was about, if you weren't so terrified that this man was going to take you away, he doesn't even seem to want you.
The man, König, has an air of violence to him, madness almost. An air you find infecting your mind even as you walk to your seat. The proximity to him doesn’t help the feeling that if any man would be the hand in your death it would be him. You can hardly imagine what a marriage to him would entail. How cruel could he be, when you couldn’t even sense a spark of warmth from him.
You knight pulls a chair out for you, and you sit, moving on pure instinct. König's eyes slide off of you to touch your maid as she leans to speak to you. You barely hear her over the ringing in your ears, your breath coming short as you stare at your place setting. Did you leave your heart in your room? It feels like you must have, you hardly think it's beating.
You feel like every muscle in your body is pulled taught, tightening to keep your skeleton from shaking. You can’t think against the rising wave of dread that settles over your mind. Your vision is so fuzzy, and the crown on your head is impossibly heavy. The weight of awful responsibility. An animal raised for slaughter, that’s all you are, all you’ll ever amount to. Another bargaining chip in your parent’s pocket to be thrown on the table in front of any unwed king they find important enough.
This is worse than an interview with a nobel. There’s no need for a formal meeting between you and a king. If he likes the look of you he can take you. There’s nothing more that needs to happen to make you his. A wedding is a formality. You’re sure that giant of a man has never heard ‘no’ in his life, and even if he had you’re sure that no didn’t last long. Where is your gentle knight? Why do you have to be doomed to a nightmare when so many other girls get to be loved?
Someone touches you. No one is supposed to touch you. You jerk away, the world snapping back into focus with a rush of sound and color. You maid crouches next to you, your hand between hers, concern clear in the furrow of her brow. You look around the table, the startled expression of your parents, König's wide eyes. Your lady in waiting swipes her handkerchief over your wet cheeks silently. Are you crying?
"I'm sorry," you smile at the other people seated at the table, "I'm just- just so excited at the prospect of marriage I suppose." Your lady- your friend fixes König with a sour expression, still dabbing at your makeup. You glance at your mother to try and pick up the conversation, maybe salvage this torture. She isn’t looking at you, her eyes set on König. Her expression is placating, her smile as warm as a crocodile’s. Political, just like you are supposed to be.
The air in this room is stifling. Your parents love you, but they care about you only as far as you’re useful to them. Despite your mother’s previous words, a king is too good a deal to pass up. Just like a princess throwing a tantrum in the middle of the night is too disgraceful to mention in the morning. 
“She’s not usually like this,” your mother tells König, her voice sweet, “she must be nervous in the face of a man so…” König raises a brow, despite the full plate of food in front of him, he has yet to remove his mask, “handsome.”
You shove off your maid’s fussing, your skin crawling to be touched by anyone. You’re going to be sick. You hardly mutter an ‘excuse me’ before you’re running from the room.
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stinkyme · 1 year
Note
SOME THOUGHTS JUST OCCURRED TO ME
Ranpo, Mushitaro, Kunikida, Akutagawa,(separate, also you can take some off if it’s too much)With ADA!reader who tried to make them a lil jealous but they ended up getting mad and fucked her all night long:,)
SOME THOUGHTS JUST OCCURRED TO ME
Ranpo, Mushitaro, Kunikida, Akutagawa,(separate, also you can take some off if it’s too much)With ADA!reader who tried to make them a lil jealous but they ended up getting mad and starting fucking her shooting load after load inside her all night long :,)
with praise kink(reader giving), breeding kink(pls no talk abt her stomach getting “big and swollen” lmao), rough sex(obviously), degradation(receiving), men moaning and being super vocal😳😩,reader being super sensitive to their touch😮‍💨, OK THATS IT IM SO SORRY I FEEL LIKE IM ASKING FOR TOO MUCH LMAO
ALSO!! I didn’t know yesterday was your birthday!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY💖💖hope it was great!!
Hello sweetheart! I tried my best to do your request, I hope you will like it and enjoy! :)
And thank you so much honey!! My birthday was great really :)) <3 huge kiss for you!
Quick heads up, I focused certain things more in certain characters for instance - Kunikida more on breeding kink, Akutagawa more on degrading, Ranpo more on getting praise and Mushitaro I left out for now, I will most likely get back to it in some time, so I hope that's not an issue and I focused it like that so I don't make all fics in same manner :) Sorry this took a while but I couldn't make a short scenario given the kinks and story, so I had to make them longer :) I hope you enjoy regardless! <3
PS. I FIRST READ THAT AS YOU WANT FOR THEM TO SAY STOMACH GETTING BIG AND SWOLLEN OH MY GOD DJSJSJS I WAS REREADING IT AND THANK GOD I SAW IT, HELP ME
Characters: Akutagawa, Ranpo & Kunikida
CW/TW: NSFW, fem!reader, established relationship, jealousy, breeding kink, degradation, praise & reassurance before/during/after sex, rough/angry sex, hair pulling, fingering, spanking, creampies, they might be OOC, if I forgot anything please let me know! :)
I apologize for any mistakes in advance! :)
Jealousy sex || BSD characters x Reader
Akutagawa Ryunosuke
Akutagawa and you were hanging out at a party with some people from Port Mafia and Detective Agency. It was a celebration due to well done job with whole Pushkin thing that went down. Akutagawa and you were seeing each other for some time now and as much as some people wanted to say thing or two about it given the fact you came from different organizations, none of them did and it didn't really matter since those close and important to you accepted it. However, you got a bit too close to Atsushi for Akutagawa's liking. You were laughing the whole time, gently slapping his shoulder in heat of the laughter and you would adjust his suit paying little to no attention to Akutagawa. He definitely wasn't fond of this as he could feel nothing but lowly burning anger growing inside him as he watched weretiger's dumb face light up at any moment you would speak or touch him. You noticed that and thought it would be fun to flirt with Atsushi just for sake of playfulness you were currently feeling. Looking back at it, it was a dumb idea, but at the moment it seemed fun so you decided to get really close to Atsushi's face as you faked he had a little eyelash on his cheek and made him blow in it as two of you made wishes. It took everything in Akutagawa not to stand up and drag you home immediately. You kept giving Atsushi dual attention, even he wasn't sure what manner were you behaving in but once Akutagawa saw how your hand took Atsushi's slowly bringing it to your chest as you spat out what seemed to Akutagawa like some nonsense about how much you appreciate him and other things, he quickly got up and grabbed your hand as he told you in firm tone how you have to go home because he isn't feeling well. You stuttered trying to tell him he can sleep over at Atsushi's place so you dob't have to leave immediately but he didn't want to hear it. Next thing you knew you were in a car, heavy tension building up between two of you. He didn't speak, you didn't ask. His aura and presence were so heavy and dark you could almost taste it on your tongue. You knew you kind of messed up, but you didn't really mean that. You finally arrived home and as you entered the apartment, both of you took your shoes off and you insecurely followed Akutagawa behind as if you weren't living here as well. You sat down on the couch as you watched Akutagawa pace around the living room, clearly stressed and upset.
"Am I not good enough for you?" he asked in his low, raspy voice but you could barely hear him.
"What? Can you repeat, I-" you started saying, your voice slightly shaky as he cut you off.
"Am I not good enough for you?" he asked more firmly as he finally stood over you, looking down and looking for an answer in your eyes.
"What do you mean?" you asked him as memories of you "jokingly flirting" with Atsushi came back.
"No, Aku, that's not it." you started shaking your head as you sighed out.
"I don't even know why I did it, at the moment it seemed like a joke.." you started explaining but he cut you off.
"A joke?" he said firmly in raspy voice as his lips curled into a smirk, not because he was amused, but rather offended.
"I thought it would be..funny..if I...made you jealous." you explained, awfully ashamed at this point as you looked down on your lap, not being able to face him. His gaze on you was firm, you could almost feel it and as you barely looked up you could see he was frowning which made you look down once again. However once Akutagawa saw desperation in your eyes that he knew too well from one thing only, he slowly lifted your chin up with his fingers.
"I didn't take you to be the person who likes making me jealous." he said in his usual tone as his gaze didn't stop observing your desperate expression. You kept looking at him and tried saying something but your throat felt dry. You felt bad because you knew he always had troubles with loving himself or thinking that people are genuine as well as always being second choice. You were right, what happened did sting badly and he was hurt, but in this moment he was more on an angry as well as slightly horny side after seeing your desperate face. You kept looking at him with same expression which made him lose his cool he already barely had.
"Don't give me that fucking look." he spat out as he swiftly pushed you down on the couch by your throat and towered over you. You looked at him, eyes wide and filled with confusion as his hands pulled down your skirt and dropped it on the floor and his teeth swiftly found their way on your neck, biting harshly which made you gasp out. He started sucking on the area he bit just second ago as he dragged his hand down your waist and swiftly moving it to his own pants, undoing the button and unzipping them. His other hand snaked around your throat, moving up to turn your jaw, giving him more space as his other hand messily pulled down his pants. You kept whimpering out from harsh sensations on your neck as Akutagawa's hand cupped your jaw tighter than before. He was pressing his whole body into yours and you could feel his hard cock rising and pressuring your clothed pussy. He pulled away from your neck, leaving purple mark behind as his lips brushed shell of your ear.
"If you want to behave like a whore then you will get treated like one." he said in raspy whisper as his hands started taking you shirt off, your body following naturally. He didn't bother taking your bra off as he just pushed you in the matress by your throat as his hands quickly dragged down your body and started pulling your panties down and dropped them on the floor. He took his shirt off over his head and threw it away, exposing his gently muscular pale body. His cold, slim fingers traced down your lower tummy, barely touching it, making you quiver. He moved them down on your inner lips, gently rubbing between them as your precum coated his fingers.
"Wet already, hah." he chuckled out, low and sinister smile curling on his face.
"You really are a whore, did you just got wet or was it when you were entertaining that weretiger?" he asked in spiteful tone which made you look away, still embarrassed and guilty.
"No.." you barely whispered out and he just pushed his two fingers inside you making you gasp out. He moved them slowly, stretching you out as he curled them up, pressing your sensitive spot inside making you moan lowly. He started moving his fingers in vigorous pace which made you bring your legs together but he quickly pushed your knee away as he extracted his fingers, string of your juices connecting them with your wet cunt. He swiftly pulled his boxers down and pumped his cock for a few seconds and positioned it in line of your entrance, slowly pushing it in, making both of you gasp out. His pelvis kissed your pussy as he went all the way in, stretching you out completely. His hands were on both sides of you and you gently grasped his wrists as he started slamming his cock inside you. He was laughing cunningly as you started whimpering out, your grip on his wrists becoming tighter as he kept unusual, vigorous pace inside you. His cock stimulated all your sweet spots inside as his tip kept pressuring your sweetest one, your g-spot and making you whimper out desperately. He was groaning out through small, malicious laughs.
"So, did you have fun with making me jealous?" he asked you through breathy groans as he slammed his cock deeply inside, making you gasp out and move your upper body near him from the intensity which he quickly stopped by pushing you down with his hand. He snaked it around your throat as he kept looking at you, frowning, but his lips curled on the side.
"Tell me, you fucking cunt, did you enjoy that?" he said weakly, but in firm tone as soft groan leaving his throat as he started moving his hips faster. You grabbed his wrist of a hand that was around your throat as you barely shook your head, muffled whimpers leaving your throat as your legs grew weaker from forceful thursts. His balls kept slamming on underside of your pussy, making wet, loud claps, slightly bruising your skin. He was deep inside you, relentlessly moving his hips back and forth, making you lightheaded as he kept pressuring your sensitive spot.
"Speak up, slut. You are barely being fucked." he spat out as he once again slammed his hips into you, his cock reaching the deepest spot, making your eyes roll back in your head as you let out sharp moan. He swiftly moved his hand off of your throat and moved it next to your head, balancing himself better as he started vigorously thursting inside you. Tears formed inside your eyes and slowly rolled down your cheeks as your hands looked for any type of support trying to switch your focus away from burning heat and mixture of pleasure and pain inside your wet, drooling cunt.
"N-no." you choked out through mixture of sharp moans and whimpers.
"Then why did you do it?" he asked in slightly broken voice, but sharp tone, making you forget everything for a second, looking at his eyes that didn't meet yours. He started moving in even faster, more forceful manner, making you buckle up as loud moans left your throat. He was groaning out in low tone, looking down at your chest with anger showing in every line of his face.
"I- I-.." you tried to choke out words.
"I-it was ju-just a.." you choked out through deep breaths as his cock kept constantly pressing your sensitive spot, making you desperate for release.
"I love yo-you." you barely gasped out through messy, loud whimpers.
"Hah, save that for someone else you fucking slut." he spat out through a groan, his eyes finally meeting yours, filled with mixture of anger and lust.
"Did you enjoy his attention? Do you wish he was fucking you right now?" he asked you in spiteful tone as his hips kept rocking inside you, he was close to his orgasm, but didn't plan on stopping regardless. Tears kept running down your face from intensity, your lower tummy filled with pleasurable pain as he kept stretching you out and overstimulating your g-spot. Your skin was deeply bruised from his balls at this point, making you whine out anytime they would smack on sensitive spot.
"N..no." you whimpered out and bit your lower lip as your pussy became sore and overstimulated.
"Whore and a fucking liar. You really have no shame, as expected from a common slut." his voice was breathy but still very spiteful, but it made your walls tighten around his cock as you looked away in embarrassment. He slowed down his movement for a brief while, not as rough as before, but still consistently pressing your sensitive spot. You were whimpering out as he swiftly grabbed your jaw with his hand.
"You have one minute to explain yourself before I ruin this desperate cunt of yours." he spat out, frowning as small drops of sweat rolled down his pale face. He slowed down his movement completely, making you sigh out.
"I thought it would be just a harmless joke." you said, looking away from him, eyes filled with embarrassment as your face grew hot.
"I didn't think it through. I don't have an explanation." you choked out as Akutagawa's frowned face didn't change.
"But I love you, I promise it meant nothing. You are all I need Aku." you said through a soft whisper as your hand gently cupped his cheek.
"You are the best." you smiled gently as his face softened. He closed his eyes as small smile curled on his face, slowly softening the grip around your throat as he moved his hand to the side, balancing himself. You waited for his response, slightly nervous.
"It doesn't change the fact you are a slut, so I will fuck you like one." he said as his eyes lowered, immediately picking up the vigorous pace with his hips, relentlessly thursting inside you, once again consistently pressuring your g-spot. You moaned out sharply as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in more. He groaned out at sensation of your wet, throbbing cunt as small amount on sweat dragged down his face, dropping on your cheek. His hand grabbed your thigh, squeezing it tightly as he slowly moved up, making you quiver and let out small whimpers. He swiftly unwrapped your legs, putting one on his shoulder, thursting deeper inside you. He was groaning as his balls kept slapping your underside of your pussy, his tip kissing your sensitive spot. You covered your mouth with one of your hands, barely muffling down your loud moans as your other hand gripped the edge of the couch trying to sustain intensity that was filling up your lower tummy as Akutagawa kept his relentless pace. He squeezed your leg tightly, leaving red mark behind as his other hand found its way on your lower tummy. He gently pressured it, his thumb immediately resting on your clit, making you whimper out in your hand.
"That weretiger will never get to experience and feel you like this, do you understand me?" he asked you through sharp groans, as his face frowned once again, pressuring your lower tummy more as he felt himself moving and thursting inside you on his palm. Your pussy clenched around his cock, making him twitch and moan out in return.
"No one will. Only me." he said in sharp tone as his hips started moving a bit faster, making you let out loud, breathy moan. He started moving his thumb around your clit making you quiver and clench yourself around his cock tightly, loud groan leaving his throat.
"On-only you-u." you said through breathy moans as his thumb kept moving in the same pace as well as his thursts, making heat build up inside you quickly as he kept stimulating all of your sweet spots.
"No one..no one else." you said weakly as his thurst kept relentless pace and his thumb kept stimulating your clit, bringing you closer to your orgasm. He twitched inside you due to your words as load of his warm precum spilled inside you.
"Fuck. Not yet." he groaned out as he kept moving his hips, moans and groans mixing up and leaving his parted lips. You clenched around his cock tightly as your legs started shaking. You could feel your orgasm approaching and gripped edge of the couch tightly. Your moans and Akutagawa's groans filled up the room as he kept thursting inside you and his thumb still stimulating your clit in pace you loved the most. You could finally feel your sweet release, moaning loudly as your orgasm washed all over you as your leg tried to wrap around Akutagawa weakly as you reached peak of your orgasm. Loud, needy groans kept leaving Akutagawa's throat as your cum coated around his already overly sensitive cock as he was holding himself back from further release. Your pussy pulsated around him as you slowly started coming down off of your high. He moved his thumb away from your clit, pressuring your lower tummy with his whole hand.
"Fuck, let me fill you up like you deserve." he groaned out as he kept thursting inside you, breathing messily as his groans filled up the room, completely muffling down your whimpers due to how loud he was. You felt him twitching inside you as his thursts became messier and slower. You felt load of his warm cum filling you up inside as he started choking out his groans, his hands moving down your hips, grabbing them tightly as his fingernails digged in your sensitive skin. You bit your hand from sensations as he slowed down his thurts, part of his cum drooling out of your pussy, breathing quickly and loudly as he was riding out his orgasm. He thursted one more time, deeply inside you and you twitched, sharp moan leaving your now parted lips and he slowly pulled out, trying not to make a mess and laid next to you. You were both calming down your breathing and you slowly turned around to him, placing your hand on his chest.
"Are you still mad?" you whispered out, observing his face.
"No." he said quickly, looking at the ceiling.
"It doesn't seem like that." you said in concerned voice.
"Did you really mean what you said?" he asked in his usual voice, as his gaze moved towards you.
"Yes. I really did." you said in comforting tone as your hand moved away from his chest and cupped his cheek. He looked deeply in your eyes and nodded, closing his.
"I love you Aku. Only you." you whispered out and he turned his head, leaning in closer and placing a small kiss on top of your lips.
"I love you too." he choked out in softer whisper which made you giggle a bit. You pulled him closer as your arms and legs wrapped around him into a huge cuddle.
"Just a little while. Then we will take a bath." you whispered out softly and Akutagawa nodded as his arms wrapped around you, both of you closing your eyes and enjoying each other like this.
Ranpo Edogawa
Making Ranpo jealous wasn't exactly your brightest idea. You thought you were slick with flustering Poe left and right, praising his books, his outfit, the way he writes, how smart and intelligent he is. You truly thought all of this but in a friendly manner, however you added slightly flirtatious tone to it as three of you walked home. Ranpo didn't say anything, keeping his eyes closed the whole time as his hands picked on the fabric of his pockets, trying to ease up the annoyance he felt. It wasn't like Ranpo was jealous, he saw right through your foolish attempt however he couldn't help himself but feel abandoned and deprived of attention and praise. You were finally saying your goodbye to Poe as you parted ways, Ranpo and you entering your shared apartment. He was awfully silent which was very unusual for him and you could feel your tummy burning as uneasiness risen inside rather than funny, excited feeling to tell him this was just a little, meaningless joke. You couldn't even think of anything to say in order to break this tension. Ranpo went in the bathroom silently and left you alone with your racing thoughts. Ranpo wasn't jealous, no, he was just painfully annoyed that you even thought this would work on him. However, as he slowly opened his eyes and took a look in the mirror, he started questioning the situation. Could it really be that he wasn't good enough for you anymore? There is no way, he would know if something was happening, he always does, doesn't he? Frustration started rising inside him as his deduction kept failing him to make sense out of this situation. All knew was that he was frustrated, annoyed, hurt and maybe...just maybe slightly jealous. He was always the one to receive your praise. 𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺 one to receive your praise. On the other hand, given the fact this is most likely a foolish joke, he was offended that you would even think you could play with him and his emotions like this. You were pacing around the room in the meantime, finally sitting on the couch, trying to calm down and think how to fix this. Ranpo came out of the bathroom and went directly to the kitchen. He went to grab something sweet, trying to relax himself and you couldn't help yourself, but walk over to him.
"What are you doing?" you asked shyly.
"Eating. Isn't it obvious?" he said in sharp tone as he took a bite of small chocolate. Fuck, he was mad.
"Can I get a bite?" you tried to cute your way into his heart, maybe that's how he will forgive you.
"Sure. Ask Poe to buy you some." he said as he finished his chocolate bar. You scoffed and opened the cabinet but he swiftly smacked it with his hand, closing it forcefully.
"Are you being for real right now?" you asked him slightly irritated at his behavior.
"You have Poe's number, don't you? Maybe message him to buy you some nice candy once he earns enough money from his delightful, intelligent works as you said." he was as sharp as before, at this moment his eyes opened, giving you an annoyed but firm look.
"Oh come on Ranpo, don't be a baby." you said in annoyed tone.
"Don't be a whore." he spat out as you opened your eyes widely, he was never this spiteful before towards you.
"Excuse me?" you said in slightly shocked voice, raising your eyebrows.
"You heard me." he kept his tone and he could feel that everything inside him was burning with anger.
"I can't believe you. Okay, yeah, it was stupid but you don't get to call me like that." you stepped closer to him, as your hand rested on top of kitchen counter, trying to stabilize yourself from all shakiness that was haunting your body in this very moment.
"I get to call you whatever I seem fitting." he said in firm tone as his face came closer to yours. You kept looking at each other for a few seconds and you could see right through his frowning expression and firm, green eyes. He was hurt deep inside and you felt awful about it. Ranpo wasn't thinking of his hurt right now, all his head was filled with was how hard he wanted to take anger out on something. Or someone. He looked at you as small smirk covered his face, leaving you confused. He closed his eyes for a split second and as he opened them, you could see lust lurking inside them. You swallowed loudly, still confused about what happened just now.
"You are right. Let me make it up to you darling." he said in slightly softer tone as his hand softly cupped your cheek, soft blush appearing on your face as he leaned in closer, his lips touching yours as he spoke.
"Take that pretty shirt off for me, will you?" he whispered in your lips as your hands followed, like they were hypnotized by his voice. You took it off over your head and dropped it on the kitchen floor.
"Good. Can you do the same with your bra?" he whispered in your lips once again, making you tremble. You could feel your core getting warm and leaking on your panties. Ranpo wasn't usually the type to take any initiative or rather to be demanding one. This was an interesting change and you loved every second of it. You undid your bra and slided it down your arms, letting it drop on the floor. He smirked devilishly as his next order set place.
"Be a darling and take off your pants as well." he ordered, this time his lips slightly away from yours as he observed your body. You took of your pants and as you got out of them, you kicked them to the side. Ranpo's green irises moved down, tracing every curve of yours. He stepped towards you, his hands gently grasping your hips as his lips moved on your nipple. He gave it a quick lick, making you quiver, and swiftly sucked it in between his teeth. He started sucking on it more rough than usual as he pulled you in by your hips. You could feel his cock slowly getting hard and pressing your lower tummy as his sucking of your sensitive nipple made you whimper. He moaned in it lowly, sending tingling vibrations through your body that made you whimper as he slowly pulled away, moving his attention to your other nipple. Your hands tangled in his hair, grasping it softly as he sucked on your sensitive areola. You whimpered out under his rough movement as his fingers traced under sides of your panties, slowly pulling them down. He slowly dragged them down your thighs as he pulled away from your nipple, making pop sound. Your panties dropped on the floor and he kneeled in front of you as moved his fingers between your thighs, softly brushing on one of them as he finally reached your wet cunt. He slowly rubbed between your inner lips, coating his fingers in your leaking precum. You whimpered out as your hands still grasped his dark locks. He slowly brought his wet fingers to his mouth, taking a quick, kitten lick. He moaned out due to the taste, making your core become warmer. He swiftly got up and rested his hands on your hips as he positioned you on the counter, your ass touching cold edge.
"Sit on it." he ordered in teasing voice as his low eyes looked at you seductively with no traces of anger anymore whatsoever. You obeyed and positioned yourself on the counter, placing your hands behind you and narrowing your hips and making your pussy nicely exposed for Ranpo's lustful gaze. He stood between your legs, parting them more by pushing your knees as he slowly moved one of them on your drooling cunt. He swiftly teased your entrance for a second and pushed two of his fingers inside, curling them up to pressure your sensitive spot. You moaned out and threw your head back as he started moving more them vigorously, his lips parted and eyes filled with desire.
"You are so wet." he whispered out as he slowly extracted his fingers and observing bright juices on them. His cock became even harder now, it was one of rare moments where Ranpo experienced an urge to destroy and ruin you. To punish you. He pulled his pants and boxers down in one movement, his cock growing bigger than you ever saw it before. His tip was messily coated in precum and Ranpo positioned himself with your entrance. He moved his tip up and down, coating himself more in your leaking juices, his mind growing hazy. He swiftly pushed his cock inside, making both of you moan out sharply. He grabbed your hips tightly as he started moving his hips in relentless pace. You whined out due to feeling of sudden stretching and his tip pressuring your sensitive spot. He whimpered out and bit his lip as he kept slamming his cock inside you. He leaned his head forward, his teeth biting into your collarbone as be tried to supress his whines. You gasped out at harsh sensation as one of your hands grabbed his clothed shoulder tightly. He whined into your skin, his soft and warm breath making you shiver as he kept relentlessly thursting inside you. You felt him on every sweet spot inside of you, making your eyes fill up with tiny tears as you felt him harhsly twitching inside you, making you quiver. You moaned out as he slowly pulled away from your bruised collarbone and brought his lips to your ear.
"Tell me." he whimpered out as he desperately thursted inside you in vigorous pace.
"Wha..what?" you whimpered out as tip of his cock kissed your sweet spot inside you.
"Tell me." he whined out in needy voice as he started moving faster, making your eyes roll back from pressure and stimulation, loud moans leaving your parted lips. His fingernails digged deeply inside of your hips as he tightened his grip. Kitchen was filled with your moans, his whines and fast, wet, clapping sounds. You couldn't think properly, Ranpo was never like this before. Ranpo also knew he was never like this before and that's why he needed to know.
"Tell me I'm good." he whimpered out as you felt knot of heat blossom inside your tummy from his words. He kept his vigorous pace and you could barely speak up.
"You..ah, are-" you whined out as you felt his cock twitch harsly inside you, pressing your g-spot. You dropped your head forward, your lips resting next to Ranpo's ear.
"Good. You are good." you said weakly as your legs started shaking so you wrapped them around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you making both of you groan out.
"More." he whined out as he kept his vigorous pace inside you, making your fingernails leave a deep mark in his shoulder as you moaned out.
"You are good. You are amazing, Ranpo." your voice was soft, breathy as whimpers kept leaving your throat. He moaned out, his hips still moving at relentless pace as his cock twitched inside you once again. You clenched around him making him bite into your neck harshly as he let out a whine muffled by your skin. You let out sharp moan as tip of his cock kept relentlessly pressing your g-spot.
"You are too good. You are the best." you whined your words out and you could feel Ranpo twitching inside you with each praise. He was still painfully frustrated with everything that has happened and swiftly moved away from your bruised neck.
"It didn't, ah-" he whined out as you clenched around his cock.
"Seem like you thought that when you were being a whore." he chocked out through whiny voice.
"I am sorry, it was stupid." you whispered out through a weak voice.
"It was." he whispered out as he started thursting inside you even faster and moved his upper body away, creating more space between two of you as his hand rested on your thigh. He swiftly moved his hand and placed it on your lower tummy, his thumb drawing messy circles on your clit. You gasped out as wave of heat spreaded in your lower tummy.
"Yeah, you are so good." you whined out as you threw your head back. His cock was relentlessly thursting inside you as his thumb stimulated your clit in perfect pace. He twitched again at your praise, his release coming closer.
"Keep going, you are such a good boy for me." you kept praising him through breathy moans making his cock pulsate inside you as he completely forgot about what was he even mad about, completely drunk by this moment. He kept twitching inside you, his hips still keeping up relentless pace, his tip kissing your g-spot as his thumb kept stimulating your clit. You felt heat build up inside your lower tummy as your orgasm approached.
"Don't stop." you whispered out as your head fell forward looking at his cock getting in and out of your throbbing cunt.
"I am so close, you are doing so well for me baby." you kept whispering out your praises and you could feel Ranpo twitch inside you as he kept his pace up. You wrapped your legs around his hips weakly as you, with few more seconds of his cock thursting inside you and pleasurable movement of his thumb, finally started reaching your orgasm. Ranpo was whining desperately as your hot, wet juices leaked on his sensitive cock. You kept whimpering out as your orgasm reached its peak, tightening grip on Ranpo's shoulder. He moved his hand off of your lower tummy and grabbed your hips harshly as he desperately fucked you. You were finally coming down your orgasm but everything inside you was sore making you overly sensitive. Your hand went into Ranpo's hair, harshly pulling his bangs as he whined out.
"Good boy, you were so good." you praised him weakly as you felt lightheaded from all sensations. Ranpo was close to his orgasm, desperately and relentlessly thursting inside as high pitched whines kept leaving his throat.
"I, ah-"
"I want to fill you up please."
"Let me..ah, let me do it. You are mine, I want this to be mine." he whined out his pleading sentences.
"It's yours. Do it baby, be a good boy for me." you whispered through broken moans as Ranpo started pulsating inside your sensitive cunt. His eyes filled up with little tears as he thursted roughly. He started whining out inconsistently, through small sharp breaths as he finally filled you up with load of cum. You twitched from pressure of being filled up by his warm cum as he kept whimpering out, slowing his pace down in messy thurts as his cum leaked out of you. He let out one last sharp whine as he started coming down off of his intense orgasm. He slowed down his movement completely and slowly pulled out, cum leaking everywhere as his head fell right onto your chest. He was breathing sharply and quickly as you stroked his hair, calming down as well.
"I am sorry once again, I promise it will never happen again my love." you said through a whisper as his arms wrapped around you. He closed his eyes.
"How can I be sure?" he asked in his usual tone as he finally calmed down.
"Hmm, how about we clean this mess up and I bake you brownies that you love so much as a promise I will never joke like this ever again?" you whispered as your hand kept stroking his messy hair.
"It was a stupid joke, but I accept it as a peace offer." he kept his usual voice and squeezed you tightly.
"I know it was and I am sorry." you whispered once again as your arms wrapped around him.
"Now let's clean this up, shall we?" you said softly.
"No, let's stay like this a bit longer, please love." he whispered and you smiled softly and nodded as two of you cuddled for a bit, spending rest of your day cleaning, taking care of each other and enjoying sweet brownies.
Kunikida Doppo
Kunikida and you had healthy relationship, he was always open and communicative about his needs and desires and expected from you to do same. You knew he was an idealist therefore he tried keeping those standards in his relationship as well. Jealousy wasn't really your thing, nor his on that matter, neither of you never really had a reason to be jealous because you deeply trusted each other. However, today you decided to see how can you push his buttons by flirting with Dazai. Three of you were only ones left in Agency office, finishing up work..and Dazai was being punished for making a mess so Kunikida was already stressed out. Dazai was a bit thrown away when you first started complimenting his brown hair and saying how brown is your favorite one, how you love little curls he has rather than fully straight hair. Kunikida looked up at you, his gaze slightly annoyed but he was focused on the work so he didn't say anything. Dazai quickly caught up on your little joke and started acting all flustered, complimenting you back and calling you 'his little belladonna'.
"I think you overworked yourself today Dazai, you should go home." Kunikida said firmly as eyes shot him an irritated look.
"But I was just getting started on how my belladonna has prettiest eyes, Kunikida~" he whined out in teasing tone and you giggled.
"I heard. I think she will be okay without that, we have a lot of work so I suggest you leave now." he ordered him firmly.
"Fine~, belladonna, think of me." Dazai sighed out and quickly brushed his fingers on your jaw as he stood up and slowly walked out of the office. He was satisfied since he could leave early, but even he could sense the tension created in the room behind him. You acted innocent, typing out reports on your laptop as Kunikida kept staring at you, his eyes low and sharp.
"Explain yourself Y/N." he said in slightly rougher tone than usual.
"I just like his hair, nothing to explain." you said quickly as you didn't even bother to look up at him. He stood up and walked up to your table and swiftly pushed down the screen of laptop, almost smacking your fingers in the process.
"What the hell are you doing?" you yelled at him as he stood tall in front of your table, his hand still firmly pressing closed laptop.
"I can ask the same." he said in sharp tone, shooting you a disapproving look. You looked down at your lap trying to think how to get out of this one, now realizing you went overboard.
"I have nothing to say." you whispered out, trying to keep up your facade. Kunikida walked around the table and stood next to you, his irritated presence feeling heavy on your body. You still haven't looked at him but his gaze was piercing through your entire being.
"Stand up." he ordered and you looked up at him swiftly, not even thinking about it. You were confused but you stood up slowly as you gave him questioning look.
"Look me in the eyes." he ordered in sharp tone and you did, feeling insanely uncomfortable now.
"Do I make you unhappy? What is this? Am I not doing something correctly?" he was still painfully irritated but also genuinely not understanding what happened between Dazai and you.
"No..it's not that." you said shyly as you looked away.
"Eyes on me Y/N." he ordered and you looked at him, soft blush spreading on your face.
"It's not that." you said once again, at this point embarrassed to admit as you felt bad abour what happened.
"Then what it is? Hm?" his tone was still sharp as he grew more irritated from having to pull words out of your mouth which he never had to do before. Your fingers nervously played with his thin red bow as you couldn't keep looking at him, trying to somehow get out of this situation. He brought his hands up, one lifting your chin up as his other one swiftly moved your fingers away from his bow. You blushed as soft heat built up inside you as you were looking at him. He was irritated, just wanting to let it all out, he was thinking how he should've let it out on Dazai but that's not possible now. He knew what was possible though.
"Fine. I know one way to make you speak up." he said sharply and before you could process it, his lips were on top of yours, his tongue swiftly finding yours as he kissed you roughly. You gasped lowly in his mouth as your hands wrapped around his neck, his own hands sliding down on your hips as both of you turned, your back pressing on the wall. His kiss was demanding, rough and you could feel his cock softly pressing on your body as it grew harder. He swiftly pulled away and looked down at your shirt, unbuttoning it in one quick movement as he started leaving messy bites all over your collarbones. Your hands wrapped around his cheeks as you let out small whimpers. He moved up to your neck, placing few fast kisses as he moved small portion of your skin between his teeth, sucking on it greedily. You let out a soft moan as he left a little mark behind, his lips now brushing on your earshell.
"Turn around." he ordered, his voice sharp but shaky and you obeyed, his hands swiftly pulling your hips towards him, making you arch your back slightly. He undid his pants, opening his button and pulling his zipper down as they fell down on his ankles. He followed with pulling his boxers down exposing his hard cock as his two fingers moved between your panties and wet pussy. He moved his fingers up and down, his cold fingernails stimulating you slightly and making you quiver. His other hand was stroking his hard cock as he pulled your panties aside, aligning himself with your wet folds. He slowly moved his tip up and down, his foot gently pushing your making you spread your legs more for him. Your hands were on the wall as you awaited his next move. He swiftly pushed himself inside, sudden fullness making you moan out sharply and clench your hands into fists. He gasped out in deeper tone as his hands grabbed your hips roughly and he started thursting inside you. His movement was medium paced making you whimper as he let out small groans.
"Tell me. What happened there?" he asked through a breathy voice.
"Noth-" you tried to say but loud moan left your parted lips as he fastened up his pace, intensely stimulating you. You tried your best to stabilize yourself by pressing your hands harder on the wall as he kept relentlessly thursting inside you, consistently pressuring your g-spot.
"Try again." he groaned out his words out in low tone as he slowed down his movement letting you speak properly.
"I already did." you said through shaky, breathy voice. He completely stopped his movement.
"Maybe you are truthful, sluts don't have explanation." he said in sharp tone making you turn your head towards him wanting to say something but he started thursting vigorously inside you, his balls slapping your clit making you quiver each time as loud moans left your throat.
"I-I am not..ah, a slut." you choked your words out through moans. Kunikida slowed his movement for a split second as he spoke.
"Oh yeah? Then why are being fucked like one?" he said sharply as his grip on your hips became tighter and he continued thursting inside you vigorously. Your loud moans and his low groans filled up the room as he kept his relentless pace and you kept clenching around him. He spanked your ass harshly leaving a red mark behind making you groan out. He pressed his fingernails deeply inside your skirt, grabbing all the skin of your hips as he started pulling them to meet his cock. Your hands were getting weak as his cock kept stimulating all sweet spots inside you.
"I-, I am sorry." you said weakly through broken whimpers.
"Speak up whore." he groaned out as his pace stayed the same. Tears formed inside your eyes as you looked down at the floor, biting your lip harshly.
"It was ah-, a joke." you cried out as he started twitching inside you, further stimulating your wet, sensitive cunt.
"I am sorry." you said weakly as your body started twitching and shaking from all sensations inside you. Kunikida stayed silent but kept his rough pace up.
"You are all I want." you kept crying out as soft tears rolled down your face from your sore cunt being in desperate need of release.
"You are all I need." you whispered out but it was loud enough for Kunikida to hear that as his cock started pulsating inside you. His grip on your hips softened as he slowed down his pace making you gasp out from sudden loss of friction.
"That was beyond stupid." he said in sharp voice as his balls kept gently hitting your clit as his tip kissed your g-spot.
"I know Kuni, I am really sorry." you whispered out as he sighed out. He closed his eyes for a second and he could feel annoyance still lingering in his chest and he swiftly picked up his previous, rough movement. You whined out at sudden friction as groans left Kunikida's throat.
"I will fill you up like a little whore you are." he said in less sharp tone.
"Would you like that? For me to fill you up like a little whore?" he groaned as you clenched tightly around him and nodded shamefully. He scoffed as one of his hands snaked around and went under your skirt from the front. He started making small circles on your clit with two of his fingers making you whimper out at sensation.
"I need you to cum for that first." he whispered as his torso rested on your back, pressuring you slightly further into the wall as he kept thursting vigorously inside you hitting all your sweetest spots as his fingers moved in the pace you loved the most. You clenched around his cock making him let out sharp, shaky groan in response. Office was filled with both of your moans, whimpers and claps of wet skin. His cock kept pressing your g-spot perfectly as his skilled fingers sent shivers through your body. You felt gentle heat build up inside you as your legs started shaking more, your orgasm slowly approaching. Kunikida was close himself and let out sharp groan as he kept twitching from your wet cunt leaking precum around his sensitive cock. Both of you were unable to think properly, at this point only desperately focused on approaching release. He kept his pace inside you and as he started moving slightly faster on your clit you went over the edge, your orgasm building up and with few more seconds you felt it finally bursting inside you. You let out desperate moans from your intense orgasm, your knees getting weaker. Kunikida was whimpering sharply behind you, his cock getting coated in your juices as you kept clenching and relaxing around him as you started coming down your high making him twitch hard inside you. You finally calmed down as he moved his fingers away from your clit, his hand tangling in your hair, pulling it harshly.
"I am going to fuck a baby into you, do you want that slut?" he spat out through heavy groans as he started moving even faster, his cock overstimulating you inside, making you whimper out. You barely nodded due to his harsh grip and he let go of your hair as his hand went back on your hips, keeping you in one place as he kept thursting and chasing his release.
"Fill me up, please." you pleaded as his cock pulsated at your words. He was so close to his release but kept his pace firm as his hands grabbed your hips tightly and loud groans left his parted lips. He thursted few more times and finally reached his release, load of his thick, warm cum filling you up inside making both of you whimper through sharp inconsistency. He slowed down his hips, pulling in and out of you slowly as he fucked his cum inside of you trying not to spill anything. You took a deep breath as he extracted his cock carefully and pulled your panties back to cover your pussy. You stood up and adjusted your skirt as Kunikida pulled you into a tight hug, making your eyes go wide as you got surprised but your arms quickly wrapping around him as you smiled softly.
"At least pull your pants up before hugging a lady." you giggled out as Kunikida let go of you, nervously pulling his boxers and pants up. He looked at you slightly embarrassed, earning more of your giggles. You hugged him tightly as one of his hands played with your hair.
"Don't do that again." he said in worried but soft tone.
"I won't, it's a promise." you whispered out and looked at him as he leaned to place soft kiss on your lips.
"How about we leave and go treat ourselves with a nice, long shower and movie marathon?" he asked you in his usual tone, his gaze filled with love and care.
"Oh? Kunikida Doppo wants to skip work after he had sex in the office? It's like I am describing Dazai." you giggled out as he shot you a sharp look.
"Don't compare me to that lazy and promiscuous man." he looked at you firmly as you giggled out.
"Sorry, sorry. When you said for me not to do that again, did you mean make jokes or make you jealous?" you asked as you looked him in the eyes, still hugging him.
"Both. You are not good at either my love." he teased you which was unusual for him but you kicked his thigh with your knee making him pull away from the hug as he smiled softly.
"Damn your reflexes. Can we go now?" you whined out playfully and Kunikida nodded, hi lips curling into a soft smile. He came next to you, his arm wrapping around your back as two of you left the office.
"I love you, you know?" you said as big smile covered your face.
"I do. I love you too, darling." Kunikida smiled softly as two of you went home, enjoying rest of the day together.
Thank you for your request and I hope you liked it and enjoyed!! :) <3
Huge thanks to everyone for all the support and kindess you showed me, as well as patience! :) <3 special thanks to my friends for motivating me and believing in me, i love you all beyond words <3
I truly do deeply appreciate it and huge kisses on the forehead for everyone hehehe <333
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