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#so it might take a while whoops
fablesdelightme · 1 year
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💕~
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blueshiftsblog · 11 months
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Hi Blue!! How's life underground? :)
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I Have Seen Overworld....Worlds....Too, But I Never Stick Around Those Long
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having a terrible time bc the past few months i accidentally kinda maybe 90% cured my adhd...? no im not making this up im srs
i need a support group for ex adhd peeps but unfortunately. yanno. thats not a thing. or at the very least a "how to focus as a neurotypical" article or sth 😭😭😭😭
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cloudsrust · 1 year
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Me being absolutely normal about Brassius' crooked smile at 1AM
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oceanxveiined · 10 months
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Special Dish: Sea God’s Catch
Base: Sashimi platter
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❛❛ The fish and garnishes seem oddly cut, but nonetheless the meat is chilled, tender, and its fragrance holds a sweet zest to it and an odd hint of spice from the side made to go with it. With Danae’s usual lack of culinary skills, it seems she must have put lots of practice into this. And been a bit overeager in her efforts, the overwhelmingly hearty portion considered. Your expression seems to fluster her. “What?! A proper meal’s good to keep up your strength! So eat up! Wh–you want to share it?! I...ugh, fine, I’ll help you finish– ❜❜
#//Idk; fun hc bc why not lol#;mun has spoken#//Would you believe me if I said I struggled to find a dish she’d feasibly be able to prepare lmao#//And it fit her brand so yeeee#//Funny she would insist on making other people eat well to keep up their strengths considering how often she skips/forgets meals; innit#//But when she dotes on someone; she DOTES and she tends to overlook her own habits#//Hence the dialogue (smile)#disordered eating mention tw#//Tagging that jic#v; intertwined fates (genshin verse)#//Sharing food is a love language. Though she’s the one who usually tended to give up bigger portions of her food#//It's just how she got used to things while growing up. Big Sibling Responsibility and all that#//Then after they've parted ways; she's already gotten so in the habit of eating less; she gets a bit queasy actually eating her proper fil#//She no longer had/has to share; but she'll still chose to take smaller portions unless she's made to otherwise#//Whoops; that that's extra info#//Implied is that she essentially makes a Inazuma-Natlan sort of fusion#//It’s sashimi she sprinkled over with citrus juice; spices & then made something reminiscent of mango salsa to go with the sashimi#//Best eaten by scooping a bit of said salsa onto a strip of meat and rolling it to eat together#//Unconventional yes; but she likes it enough so she shares. Whether or not it's actually LIKED by others; That is up to interpretation lma#//Image set is an approx. idea of what it would look like. Might draw the actual one some time#//Uhhh; game stats would be...Increases all party members' ATK by 290 and CRIT Rate by 15% for 300s ig
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certainwill · 11 months
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help me i am fixating on lambdadelta so bad and i don’t know what to do ;~;
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hazelplaysgames · 1 year
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so while i’d love to make a simple update about how that mission went... it offered a choice, and to choose one of them, i want to have 100,000 bits. i am. REALLY inclined to hit yes on that. the problem: i have about 68,000 right now. about 32,000 short.
Exp. Ring betas sell for about 5k, so back to the Macro Sea i go, grinding more there. pretty certain it’s only the Whamon there. Divermon also drop a weapon which sells for about 3k, so it’s pretty good pace between the two.
even with a few Bits Rings, the actual fights still barely add up to anything. it’s like, 250-300 per battle, maybe 400 tops?
i get about 200 for a PrinceMamemon, so at this point... about 150, depending on other spawns. it would have been the fastest method, but two PMamemons in a fight(plus two other mons) gave me 266, so there’s some awkward non-linear addition to that front(terrible idea: never do this). it’d be 150 fights with a PMamemon, not 150 PMamemon. huge difference, Macro Sea is probably more ideal over time.
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bearseungmin · 2 years
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Hello ✨ I just wanted to let you know that I really appreciate everything that you do for stayblr (like the birthdaybash event for example) and you’re honestly doing gods work here!! It really warmed my heart to be included on the list and it’s really sweet of you to promote so many writers like this 💕
Just wanted to let you know that me (and probably many other people) really appreciate it 🥺💝 tysm and have a nice day / night 💜
aaa i just want to make everyone feel included in things! it's super rewarding (and funny) to get responses (which i always get overwhelmed by and become unable to respond to everyone lmao I'm sorry) of everyone being excited and also surprised they're even in a event recs list because they don't think they're good enough (even though they're just as cool and amazing writers as the rest of us) !!!
i just think it's super important to support everyone i can on here because it's way too easy for us to fall under the radar especially since the algorithm/search tags often fail us.
also I'm constantly raving about everyone's masterlists (no matter how they look) because i think it's incredibly unique how we all organize our titles and descriptions and add on extra info but also are creating themes at the same time. as someone who dabbles in cc often it feeds my creative brain!
but omg thank you so much for sending me this love it made my entire day <3 !!!
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figtreeandvine · 4 months
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I want to write a movie that is sort of the flip side of a Hallmark holiday movie. Not an anti-Hallmark movie, just like the other side of the same coin.
It starts with a well-dressed professional woman driving a convertible along a country road, autumn foliage in the background, terribly scenic. She turns onto a dirt road/long driveway, and stops next to a field of Christmas trees, all growing in neat, ordered rows, perfectly trimmed and pruned to form. She steps out of the car--no, she's not wearing high-heels, give her some sense!--and knocks on the door of a worn but nice-looking farmhouse. An older woman, late fifties maybe, answers the door, looking a bit puzzled. The younger woman asks if she can buy a Christmas tree now, today. The older woman says they don't do retail sales--and the younger woman breaks down crying.
Cut to the two women sitting at the kitchen table with cups of tea. The young woman (Michelle), no longer actively crying, explains that her mother loves Christmas more than anything, but is in the hospital with end-stage cancer. Her doctors don't think she'll live to see December, let alone Christmas. Nobody is selling Christmas trees in September, so could the older woman please make an exception, just this once? The older woman (Helen) regretfully explains that they have a contract to sell their trees that forbids outside sales. The younger woman nods, starts to stand up, but the older woman stops her with a hand and asks her what hospital her mother is in. After she answers the older woman says that "my Joe" will deliver a tree the next day. "Contract says I can't sell you a tree, but nothing says I can't give you one."
Next day "Joe" shows up at the hospital in flannel and jeans, with a smallish tree over her shoulder. Oh, whoops, that's Jo, Helen's daughter, short for Joanna, not Joe. Jo sets up the tree and even pulls out a box of lights and ornaments. Mother watches from hospital bed with a big smile as Jo and Michelle decorate the tree. Cue "end of movie" type sappiness as nurses and other patients gather in the doorway, smiling at the tree.
Cut to Michelle sitting in her dark apartment, clutching a mug of tea, staring out at the falling snow and the Christmas lights outside. Her apartment has no tree, no decorations, nothing. She starts at a knock on the door, goes to open it. Jo is standing there, again holding a tree over her shoulder.
Plot develops: the second tree is a gift, because Michelle might as well get it as the bank. The contract for the tree sales was an /option/ contract, which prevents them from selling to anyone else, but doesn't guarantee the sale. The corporation with the option isn't going to buy the trees, but Helen and Jo can't sell them anywhere else, and basically they get nothing. They'll lose the farm without the year's income. Michelle asks to see the contract and Jo promises to email it to her.
Next day at a very upscale law firm, Michelle asks at the end of a staff meeting if anyone in contract law still needs pro bono hours for the year. No one does, but a senior partner (Abe) takes her to his office and asks about it. She says the contract looks hinky to her ("Is that a legal term?" "Yes.") but contract law's not her thing. He raises an eyebrow and she grins and pulls a sheaf of paper out of her bag and hands it over. He reads it over, then looks up at her. "They signed this?"
More plot develops. Abe calls in underlings--interns, paralegals, whatever--and the contract is examined, dissected, and ultimately shredded (metaphorically). It's worse even than it looks--on January 1st Helen and Jo will have to repay the advanced they received at signing. The corporation has bought up a suspicious number of Christmas tree farms in previous years after foreclosure, etc.
Cut to Abe explaining all this to Helen and Jo while sitting with them and Michelle in a very swanky conference room. The firm is willing to take on the case pro bono, hopefully as a class's action suit for other farmers trapped by the contract--but there's no way it can go to court before January. Which will be too late to save the farm's income for the year. They might get enough in damages to tide them over, but….
After Michelle sees Helen and Jo out, she comes back and asks Abe if there's anything they can do immediately. Abe looks thoughtful for a long moment, then gets a really shark-like grin on his face. "Maybe…."
Cut to Helen wearing a bathrobe, coming into her kitchen in the morning. She looks out the window…and there's a food truck stopped in her driveway. She pulls a coat on over her robe and goes out--two more trucks have pulled up while she does this. Driver of the first truck asks her where they park. Another truck pulls up behind the others. Behind that is a black BMW--Abe rolls down the window and waves. Helen directs the trucks to the empty field/yard next to the house. Abe pulls up next to Helen's car and Jo's truck and parks. He and Michelle get out--Abe wearing a total power suit, Michelle in weekend casual.
The case will be easier if the corporation initially sues them for violating the (uninforcible!) contract, rather than them suing to corporation (damn if I know, but it's movie logic). So they're going to sell the trees now, and rounded up some food trucks and whatnot to draw people in.
Cue montage of Jo and Michelle running around helping people set up while Abe and Helen watch from the kitchen table. The table starts out covered in file folders…and slowly gains coffee cups and plates of cinnamon rolls. It becomes increasingly clear here that Abe and Helen are becoming as close as Jo and Michelle.
Everything gets set up and a very urban, very motley crowd appears--tats and studs and multiracial couples and LGBTQ parents and everything--and everyone is having a wonderful time eating funnel cake and choosing their tree so Jo and a bunch of rainbow-haired elves can cut it for them. At which point someone shows up from the corporation (maybe with a sheriff's deputy?) and starts yelling at Helen, who's running checkout. And suddenly Abe appears from the house and you realize why he's wearing that suit on a Saturday….
Cue confrontation and corporate flunky running off with their tail between their legs, blustering about suing. Cue Jo kissing Michelle. Cue Helen walking over and putting a hand on Abe's shoulder and smiling at her.
I want the lawyers to be the heroes because they are lawyers and know the law. I want a lesbian who lives in the country with her mother. I want urbanites to turn out as a community to help someone who isn't even part of their community. I want Michelle to keep working at her high-power job, loving Christmas and grieving her mother.
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noearchives · 1 month
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things that you do that make his heart skip a beat!
characters: portgas d. ace, sabo, trafalgar d. water law, sanji.
note: you ever get that feeling when your heart feels like it fell out of your ribcage when the person you like does Something . yeah
cw/ tags: gender neutral reader, short drabbles, fluff ^_^
portgas d. ace
when you say "i love you" out loud.
- it's simple, yet it makes his heart stop every time you say it. many people throw around those three words like it meant nothing at all, but to him, it weighs heavier than the entire world.
- when you say it out loud to his face, he immediately beams brighter than the sun.
- he'll never get tired of how those three words roll of your tongue-- it's a reminder of how you love him and him only, out of everyone else on this planet.
- even if the whole world's against him, you still chose him.
- "say it again," he says, the glint in his eyes like a puppy's.
- when you do, he lets out a chuckle and wraps you in his arms, squishing the air out of your lungs as his cheeks turn warm.
- "oh, i love you. iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou," he mumbles into your neck.
sabo
when your fingers accidentally brush against his.
- god, it makes him feel so stupid because you've been together for a while now, and it's silly to get so flustered over something so minor. what is he, 12?
- but whenever the two of you reach for the same pen at the same time and your fingers overlap his during the process, the way you giggle as you say "whoops, sorry about that" makes his poor little heart flutter.
- the effects only double if it happens when the both of you are on a mission together with the rest of the revolutionaries.
- he's supposed to be professional and serious, but when your hand brushes against his when you walk side-by-side, he feels like he has to drop everything he's doing to kiss you silly.
- oh, darling, how can you do something so scandalous as such in front of your fellow coworkers...
- he fights against every fibre of his being to not hold your hand right then and there. it's like torture to him!
trafalgar d. water law
when you bandage his wounds.
- most of the time, even when he says he's alright and he can handle it on his own, you insist on helping him bandage his wounds and take care of him until he's healed.
- he was forced to mature too early when he was a wee child, and he's been taking care of himself ever since-- there's no time nor place for him to be gently cared for.
- so when your mind is focused on nothing but his wounds, delicate fingers wrapping him up as if every movement is calculated to make it hurt the least, his heart melts right there in his ribcage.
- "sorry- did i press too hard?" the look of worry in your eyes is so adorable. he might just pretend that it actually hurt so he can see the knot between your brows tighten more as you apologise frantically.
- not to mention the way you unintentionally stick the tip of your tongue out as you focus on taking care of him is so goddamn adorable. he would tease you with a kiss if not for the fractures in his bones.
- your cool fingertips on his skin makes his entire body tingle. thank god he doesn't have a monitor showing how fast his heart is beating right now.
sanji
when you hug him from behind his back.
- his favourite love language is definitely physical touch...
- when you catch him off guard when he's busy cooking for the crew, he feels like he just ascended to heaven.
- the way your arms rest so perfectly around his waist, the way your face is buried in his back, the way that you smile at him when he turns his head around...
- it just feels so domestic! it's like everything he's fantasized about when he was younger, with him cooking on a casual friday afternoon, with the love of his life behind him saying something like "mmm, love, that smells so good..."
- this is all he's ever wanted. him doing his favourite thing (cooking), with his favourite person (you), in his favourite place (the thousand sunny).
- it makes him think of a future with you in it.
- he bites his tongue to hold himself back from saying "let's get married right now."
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angel1kisses · 2 months
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︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶When they're too big
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Contains☆Hyung Line + Sunoo, Nsfw, Members will have individual warnings, established relationship, reader implied smaller than the members
(A/n) : Forgot to post this one whoops
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Heeseung☆
Contains : size kink , Dom!Heeseung, mentions of size traning
"Shit..you're so tiny baby... I don't know how i'm going to fit inside you", Heeseung mumbled in a husky voice , his eyes focused between your bodies as he slid the bulbous head of his cock up and down between your slick folds, the head nudging against your puffy clit with each slide. You were so incredibly wet from all the foreplay Heeseung did , he knew he was above average and on the girthier side so he wanted to prep you as best as he can , yet it still seemed like your tiny cunt wasn't prepared enough yet. "I might need to get some toys to stretch you out and have you get used to something bigger than my fingers inside you", Heeseung chuckled , sliding his cock between your folds as he changed his mind about fucking you — the feeling of his cock sliding between your folds and rubbing against your clit already gave both you and him enough pleasure.
Jay☆
contains : Soft dom!Jay
Now Jay never thought his cock was huge or thick , he always thought he was average sized but the way you struggled to take every inch inside of you may have proven him wrong. His hands were resting on your waist as he gently squeezed them , words of encouragement and praises falling from his lips. His head felt dizzy , he felt bad but he couldn't stop the blood pumping through his veins down to his hard cock , his eyes looking to where your cunt was trying to fit more of him inside — he wasn't even fully inside of you , yet your body was shaking on top of his while your nails were slightly clawing at his chest. "Just take as much as you can handle baby ... I don't want it to hurt even more for you than it already does", Jay whispered softly , cupping your cheek with his right hand and gently rubbing his thumb against your cheek.
Jake☆
Contains : slight dacryphilia , size kink
Jake couldn't help but feel the ego boost running through his body despite how worried he was . He was worried yes , but he also felt kind of smug about the fact that his cock was too big for you. He should've expected it to be honest , you were so much smaller in comparison to him and it always gave him such a huge ego boost. "Just a little more...don't cry baby", Jake cooed as he wiped away the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. He could feel the way your walls were pulsing around his cock , squeezing him so tightly that he had to inhale sharply to refrain himself from thrusting his whole length inside you. "You look so pretty when you cry...so fucking pretty", his cock swelled up inside you , his cheeks a little flushed as his half lidded eyes were gazing down at your quivering form.
Sunghoon☆
Contains : dacryphilia, unintentional use of strength, size kink, established safe word (but it doesn't get used), small tummy bulge
Sunghoon couldn't help himself, more like he couldn't control himself — the way you were softly sobbing as he pushed inch after inch past your tight walls , his hands unintentionally gripping your waist hard as he was trying to holdihimself back. He knew that it hurt you , but if the pain was way too much you would've said your safe word ,so the tears didn't alarm him. He was worried yes , but he couldn't deny that the way your teary eyes gazed up to him just turned him on even more. He bit the inside of his cheek , a low groan coming from him as he was finally completely inside you. "Fuck ...Princess, i'm all the way inside ...here", Sunghoon dragged his finger down your stomach , tapping against the small bulge that was showing.
Sunoo☆
contains : Worried Sunoo , praises and reassurance , just soft
Like Jay , Sunoo also didn't consider his cock big — he was a little above average but on the thicker side. His eyebrows were furrowed as his expression contorted into a worried one , his lips pressing soft kisses against your cheek. "We can stop baby, you already did so well... we can try another time?", Sunoo suggested , he really didn't want to hurt you , it pained him to know that he was hurting you even though it was something he couldn't do anything against. He would've used more lube —but much to his luck , there was barely anything inside the bottle of the clear substance. You shook your head a little , your hand squeezing his that you had been holding the whole time. "Are you sure? I really don't want to hurt you..", Sunoo mumbled with a small pout on his plump lips but when you nodded again , he knew that you really wanted it. "Okay , but please promise me to tell me if it hurts to much.."
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Taglist @ariiiiwaz @chlorinecake @sunjaywoning @czlluvriki @aaasia111
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mellowwillowy · 2 months
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𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
Feat: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Lilia Bonus: Floyd, Jade, Jamil, Rook, Epel, Malleus
Riddle Rosehearts
Riddle’s face was almost as red as his hair, not out of anger but rather…
[Oh my gooodddd, stomp those tiny feet again, Riddle! Give me that pout~]
Really… should he do it again? Out of nowhere? Well, let’s take a walk to where you clicked then…
[Yaahhh!! So cuteeee!!!]
Well at least you didn’t think him badly for being angry out of nowhere… whoops, he wasn’t supposed to idle like that.
Ahh, why are you moving on to another character? Cater? That good for nothing? The naughty ADeuce duo? He's almost turning from red to green in envy!
Leona Kingscholar
Leona was supposed to be ticked to the brim but definitely not with you. His ears are red from your nonstop rambling while you keep on poking his avatar right on his ear.
[I wonder how it feels like to play with his ears, ah, maybe I should help you clean it too?]
Don’t. Twitch. Ears. Else the player might notice this and question this one new idle.
[Thinking back, I kinda wanna try stepping on his tail like Yuu too~]
Don’t. Swish. Tail. What? Is he a masochist or what? Well, if it’s for you then he wouldn’t mind it.
Wait wait, why are you checking out Ruggie and Jack now? Hey, what do you mean Ruggie has cuter ears and Jack has a fluffier tail? Why do they look so proud? Are they asking to be minced?
Azul Ashengrotto
Azul might break out of the avatar restraint now. You’ve been talking about how you want to squeeze the kid him, round and plump, you quoted.
Why did you find his past appearance adorable?
[Honestly, I kinda want to lift him and his hiding spot and boil him as a takoyaki filling]
Now that made Floyd and Jade snickered. Azul was internally panicking but his avatar did not show him breaking a single sweat.
[Or maybe gather all his ink whenever he cries]
For your pen?
[But I do think squeezing his plump octomer form is the best~ Oh well, he had lost all those baby fats]
And back to how you ramble about his round self again. This was supposed to be disheartening but why was he blushing?
Wait wait, don't look away from him, no! Why are you going to Floyd? And Jade too? He knew Floyd won your heart but allow him to worm into your heart at the very least. Please let one of his three hearts rest in you!
Kalim Al-Asim
Kalim was nodding non-stop at your ramblings, or should he say, wishes. He was really happy that you were taking him as your magic lamp!
[And then, I want you to lace my body with lots of glitters, made of gold!]
No hard task, he just had to grind all that gold into some sort of fairy dust for you!
[Oh! And I want to try swimming in a pool of golden coins like Uncle Scrooge! I wonder if it'll hurt and uncomfortable as I think...]
He was in the same boat with you. You'd have to be careful when diving into the pool! But you can try sleeping on it though you should be careful, just in case the coins swallow you whole!
[And a carpet ride every night~]
Roger that! Tell him more of your wish, will you?
Eh? Why do you stop wishing? No! He will guarantee you that he will make it all come true! Please do not doubt him! Ah... it's because you two are in a different dimension? Screw this barrier that separates you two then.
Vil Schoenheit
Yes, he knew he was unworthy of your praises but he couldn't help but enjoy bathing in it!
[Look at your hair... and that make-up! Wow... truly is the fairest one of all!]
Oh please, no matter how much you compliment him, he could never compete with you beauty-wise! You would always be the true fairest one of all!
[Aha! Look at those heels too, contribute a lot to your height, and make you look so pretty!]
Even a prominent actor like him can't cover his natural reaction which was the growing blush on his face!
Eh? Rook? What does he have to do with him? Too in love with his words more than the beauty in front of you right now? No no no, you must look at him only and no one else!
Idia Shroud
If anything, he was glad his hair did not turn pink! From the way you kept on poking his avatar and patting his head, it made his heart tickled. He was no longer stuttering because the system wanted him to, but because he himself was nervous!
[Oh, show me that one illustration... Kyaaa! Why must you be so cute biting on your sleeve??? It's so inviting!!!]
Ah? That one? He couldn't help but feel embarrassed as you zoomed into his face and examined his hair. Truly, this was too much for his heart!
[Oh oh, and your masquerade costume is so pretty! It makes you look so pretty ffs!]
Ah, it was pretty uncomfortable to wear but he's glad he didn't take it off, not like he can do that anyway. The system won't allow that after all.
Everything feels nice so why are you changing character now? Wait wait! Have you checked his other card? No no no, why is that little shortie fae here? Don't close on him, please! He might want to try hacking your phone soon!
Lilia Vanrouge
Oya? You'd like to dress him up? Kukuku, looks like green and pink would work well on him~
[And... I think we can try curling his long hair, can we change the hue from red to pink like a color wheel?]
...Curling his hair didn't sound bad. Maybe he should try it sometimes and see if it suited him.
[Oh! And I'm gonna hang him upside down like the bat he is! My cute little bat, let's fist-fight!]
You really are an enigma huh? One moment is a sweet and docile lamb then the next moment you are a bull. Hm? Malleus? Why talk about him so sudden? Didn't you say he is your number-one favorite from Diasomnia? So why are you looking at someone else now?
𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒:
Floyd Leech
God of Shrimpy~ Keep on poking him, he loves it! Ah, you love his teeth? And his droopy eyes? And his laugh? Hehe, you really love everything about him huh?
So why do you even bother looking at the others? He's going to hug you tight for this silly!
Jade Leech
Ah, he is quite the gentleman, no? Hm? You'd like to keep him as your butler? Why that is quite the generous idea that you allow him to manage your daily life~
With a small dose of love potion in your daily tea every day, he's bound to have you in his arms soon, well, if he ever finds a way to pull you into this twisted wonderland.
Jamil Viper
It truly is an honor to be considered as someone reliable (from babysitting Kalim) and acknowledged as an attendant who could shield you from any danger, truly. He is ready to put his life in line for you so why?
Why are you saying that there's someone else who might fit the position as your attendant more than him? And that person being that slimy eel no less!
Rook Hunt
Ah! This is amazing! To be able to charm you with his words and let him worm into your heart is truly a blessing! Would you like him to write you a poem detailing your beauty?
No no, mon chèri, you shouldn't grace those who are unbefitting of it, don't you think it's a waste to spare the other your grace? Allow this hunter to save you from that trouble.
Epel Felmier
H-huh? You want to dress him up? Naturally, he hates being treated as a doll, a girl no less! But... the idea of you helping him dress and helping him with makeup... he can do this. It is your way of gracing him after all...
Huh? You want to dress Lilia up too? Why? Because he's cuter? Oh no, there's no way there's someone who is prettier than him, look at him, look at how pretty he is in this dress!
Malleus Draconia
If anything, he will always hear you compare him and Riddle to the 'Queen of Heart' and 'Maleficient' from your world. You will praise him for being able to stand on the same level as the actress' beauty which makes him feel giddy.
But boy is he sulking when you start rambling about Riddle and the big-headed Queen. You will dote on him and Riddle back and forth.
Can't you just dote on him?
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tulipsbymybed · 10 months
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cool my desire
Pairing; Las Plagas!Leon Kennedy x Fem Reader
Summary; Leon’s back from Spain and he’s fine. Really, he’s fine. There’s just something…different, about him. Maybe it has something to do with the fever he’s getting…
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Warnings; 18+ minors dni or I’ll set Krauser on u hah! uh so. male masturbation, lots of 'scent stuff', he's obsessed with the way you smell, oral sex fem receiving, p in v sex, no protection and a lil creampie situation whoops, MINOR breeding kink, leon has the black eyes and veins hehe, lots of violent thoughts, blood and gore etc
(a/n) okay! been a month or so!!! sorry about this!! i'm proud of pretty much all of it, apart from maybe the ending i'm a bit unsure about? but, if you don't like it don't tell me like i've done fourteen thousand words y'all can keep your critiques to urselves lmao. title is a lyric from I'm On Fire by Bruce Springsteen, aka the best song Ever !
Word Count; 14k
It’s chaos when Leon makes it back, but his ears are ringing and he can’t bring himself to care too much about what’s going on anyway. 
Ashley is safe. Ada is gone. Luis is dead. Mission successful.
He’d kept it at bay on the way back from Spain, and now he looks at Ashley reuniting with her father, all the suited men surrounding them acting as though this is the best possible outcome, like nothing else happened and he just wants to show them. He wants to drag them to that stupid little village, show them the charred corpses of the cops who tried to help him, the people he had to murder, the animals they mutated, Luis’ corpse, what Krauser did to himself. He wants to shove their faces into it, force them to look at all the bodies and the death and rot and show them what it took-that while they were here safe in their suits and their fancy offices, he was brutalising himself, leaving a decaying trail in his wake.
Leon can’t even speak, he just stands there, watching the entitlement and the privilege and the utter ignorance of sacrifice. It makes him so angry, leaves his vision red and blurry as he seethes.
No one notices, no one even looks at him twice. He stands in the middle of the room, unmoving, scanning the room and clenching his fists by his sides as he fights the urge to grab a suit and beat them into mushy pulp. It enrages him.
Someone claps him on the back and chuckles, congratulates him on a mission well done and moves forward to speak to another suit. He’s holding a glass of champagne. Leon has lost count of the amount of people he killed, he was infected with a parasite, he watched his friend die and this man is congratulating him and drinking champagne. 
In a split second, his mind goes silent and time slows down as Leon imagines how the next five minutes might play out. 
He imagines taking the glass, knocking it against the table next to him and breaking it, leaving a makeshift weapon to use. He imagines holding the man by the lapels of his expensive suit while he presses the sharp point of the glass under his chin. He imagines steadily driving his hand up, feeling the moment when the skin breaks and the glass sinks in. It would be so goddamn easy, no one would be able to stop him from skewering the man, watching through his open mouth as the glass comes up through his tongue and into the roof, streaming blood down to soak into his elegant clothes. 
Leon blinks and unclenches his fist. 
He lets out a shaky breath, nodding politely at the man as he brushes past and attempts to make himself concentrate on the fact that he’s alive, he’s safe, he’s back in America and Saddler is dead.
Something prickles up his spine and he winces, head jerking unnaturally a little as he tries to calm himself. 
He wasn’t even that angry when he was in Spain, somehow not even that furious when he was fighting Saddler. There’s a small part of his mind that worries, that whispers what if las plagas changed you? What if you’ll never get rid of it? You’ll turn into a mindless monster like the people in that village, you’ll do nothing but kill at someone else’s behest and be a filthy, brutal, killing machi-
Turn it off turn it off turn it off. Safe, alive, safe and alive.
-
A couple of hours later, he’s in a bland room. The same one as always, the same interrogation room they use every time he comes back from a mission. He sits in the same chair, looks at the same two officers, and answers the same questions. 
They ask for a step by step of what happened, the people and the places, his conversations with Hunnigan, how he protected Ashley, why they both got infected, who Luis and Ada are.
He answers them like usual, monotone and bored, going through the motions like he did with everyone else who questioned him on the way back. 
They seem interested when he tells them about Las Plagas, about how it’s different from the T and G viruses but he’s not a doctor what the hell does he know? He scoffs as he says this, before his mind goes oddly quiet again and he fixes the officers with blank looks. He isn’t sure what they see but they both flinch at his eyes, empty and cold as he reminds them the only doctor that knew about this is now dead.
The same odd feeling prickles up his spine again and he takes a deep breath, letting the coldness go as a muscle in his jaw tics.
Instead of gripping them by their hair and slamming them face first into the table like he wants to for some reason, he manages a smirk and tells them that they’re welcome to take a little holiday to Spain if they want to know more. He gestures at the photos on the desk as he speaks, the images of open heads, missing limbs and disgusting mutations and watches the officers avert their eyes. 
He averts his eyes as well, looking away from the officers as his stomach churns at the thought of what he just wanted to do to them. Leon almost feels sick at it, unable to figure out why his thoughts are so turbulent and violent, so impulsive and horrible even though he doesn’t feel that way at all. The officers are annoying, it irritates him every time he comes back from a mission and he has to go through it with them, but he wouldn’t wish them dead. He wouldn’t want them lifeless and bloody on the floor, like something in his mind suggested. 
They finally let him go after a few hours, and tell him they’ll be back in touch and he’ll need to come in for some more sessions since they don’t know anything about this parasite. Can’t have another misstep like Raccoon City again, after all. Misstep.
When he gets into his car, he slumps down in the seat. It started raining earlier, and he watches the water pour down onto his windshield. It’s comforting, soothing after the days he’s just had. 
The occasional car drives past him but he ignores everything else, just focusing on the soft patter of rain on glass, the way it streams in rivulets down to pool by his windshield wipers. Sighing a little, he sinks down further and lifts his eyes to watch his reflection in the glass. 
He grimaces at what he sees, the dark circles around his eyes, the cut on his cheek,the scrape on his forehead and how gaunt he looks. He seems paler than usual as well, as though he’s ill maybe. 
It’s only expected, he supposes, after everything he’s just done. Leon can’t even remember the last time he slept, all of his muscles hurt, he’s got god knows how many injuries and-
His eyes flash black in his reflection and he bolts upright, grabbing his gun from the holster on his thigh. 
With a blink, his reflection is normal again.
Breathing heavily, he lowers his firearm and leans forward, brushing his fingers over the inside of the windshield. He swipes them back and forth, trying to figure out what he just saw. 
He thinks about his lack of sleep again though, and slumps back down in his seat. If you were here you’d scold him and tell him to at least have a nap before driving anywhere.
His face relaxes as he thinks of you. 
Sometimes he wonders if he should fight it when it happens, when his affection for you rises up and washes everything else away. A smile tugs on his lips as he thinks that hell, he definitely should have fought it before it got to this point.
It’s a familiar pull in his chest that he feels now, and, strangely, he thinks of a beach. 
He went to the coast once when he was younger with some family, and in his memory it’s as vivid as the day he saw it. It’s one of his most treasured memories, so it’s no surprise that he’s found a way to associate it with you.
Closing his eyes, he remembers standing on the shoreline, digging his toes into the sand and looking out over the water. It was calm that day-he was allowed to go swimming without an adult-and he’d stayed there for a while, just standing in the foamy water lapping at his ankles. It hadn’t seemed that important at the time, and yet when his training got too tough, Leon found himself thinking back on it and remembering the feeling of the cool waves. 
And now, for some reason he can’t explain, he thinks of you in the waves. 
He often thinks of it in times like this, when everything is too much and his body is at it’s breaking point, and he imagines being at a shoreline, waves coming in, waves going out. The water washes away everything, gives him a clean slate-it clears his mind and cleans his wounds, and he can’t help but think of you. You, who, without fail, always manage to calm his turbulent thoughts and mend his body even when he’s pushed it too far. 
You do it because you’re a friend, you berate him for not taking better care of himself and then you earnestly tell him how glad you are that he made it back to you.
You do it because you’re a friend, and Leon feels guilty that every time he comes to see you it’s because he’s not your friend. 
He turns his head to watch the rain on the window instead of the windshield, adjusting the way he’s sitting so he doesn’t fall asleep.
Sometimes he feels ashamed of his relationship with you, the way he thinks he’s practically using your friendship. He only feels like that when he’s alone though-when he sees you again it doesn’t seem like that much of a big deal, like it doesn’t really matter, you wouldn’t be bothered if you knew how little he sees you as a friend.
He fought the truth for a long while, though he didn’t realise he should have been fighting his feelings instead. If you’re in love with someone, there’s no point telling yourself what you feel isn’t love. The feeling’s the same, after all. 
If he’d only fought a little harder, he thinks. And then he remembers that he didn’t want to. 
He remembers when you met, when you found a home in his mind and figured you’d stay a little while. It was immediate, unfortunately for his sanity. Perhaps a result of the things he’s faced and the terrors he’s been through, but the way you greeted him and didn’t ask about his missions, didn’t appear to see him as the prodigy Agent Kennedy, just as Leon, it hooked and reeled him in. 
By the time he admitted what he wants from your relationship, you’d firmly settled into the role of his friend. His closest by far, but still just a friend.
Leon eases himself up in the driver's seat and grips the steering wheel, realising it’s about time he went home. He’s still thinking of you though, and it angers him again. Makes his spine itch as he thinks of what he does want. His body moves faster than his mind and he lifts his hand, only to slam it against the steering wheel over and over, gritting his teeth and relishing the burn in his palm. 
His mind catches up all of a sudden and he stops, drops his hand and cradles it with his other as he sucks in a breath at the now sensitive skin. 
Leon falters for a second, struggling with the fact that he was thinking of you like he often does, and he then lost control of himself. 
It’s a strange feeling in his chest, as though something has hidden there and bided its time, waited until now to unfurl itself and spread through his limbs. He thinks of Las Plagas again and shuts his eyes, counting to ten before opening them and confirming to himself that he’s cured now, he saved Ashley and she saved him. He shakily dismisses his worries by reassuring himself he would have turned by now, he would have become a mindless mutant like everyone-everything else he encountered. 
Leon runs his fingers up and down his forearm, confirming his veins are still blue-ish green under his pale skin. 
Lack of sleep, just lack of sleep. Need sleep. And her. Lack of sleep, lack of her. 
Swallowing and gripping the steering wheel again, he starts his car and attempts to forget his outburst. It’s not him, it’s nothing like him. You often scold him for bottling things up and not letting you in, but he can take it as long as it means he doesn’t unleash anything on you. How could he go on knowing he’d scared or hurt you? But today, this afternoon, it makes him wonder just a little bit-seeds a fragment of doubt in his mind that he’s not safe to be around. That he might actually pose a danger to you. 
No. No-won’t hurt her, I won’t-I couldn’t. Protect her-yes, protect, make her safe.
He shakes his head, as though trying to clear it of his worries, as he drives through the city. A little faster than he should, as well. 
Leon doesn’t even really look where he’s going as he drives, he knows it’s dangerous but he can’t stop thinking. His mind is a blur, jumbled thoughts of you and his outburst and the mission and everything he’s done, if he’s safe to be around-if he can be around you. 
Ordinarily he wouldn’t think twice about it, he’d push the mission out of his mind and head straight to yours. He’d wave off your concerns so that he didn’t linger too long on the fact that you’re worried about him, you’re concerned for him and care about him and-
Leon breathes out shakily, glancing in his rearview mirror before turning onto your street.
Your street. 
Once glance at your place calms him, strangely so. 
He doesn’t take very much notice of it, as your presence usually calms him somewhat-most things seem easier to handle when you’re next to him, he thinks happily. But he fails to notice the odd way his heart slows down, how his mind goes quiet suddenly. He just feels at home, like nothing else could possibly matter now that he’s about to be with you again.
Why was he even so angry earlier? It seems impossible that he wanted to hurt people today-and he almost laughs as he steps out of the car, thinking back to the man in the suit he’d wanted to spear on his glass and scoffing at the thought he was ever that angry.
How could he have spent the day daydreaming about brutalising his associates when it doesn’t even matter? Nothing else matters apart from getting into your apartment right now, apart from seeing you again.
Leon grins as he jogs up to your building, giddy with the prospect of seeing you. That should strike him as odd too but he doesn’t register it. He’s always excited to see you, always waiting for the next time he can be in your presence, but he’s feverish tonight. For a second he thinks about what you might be wearing, a brief thought flashing through his mind that maybe you’d actually be wearing very little, waiting to welcome him home and reward him for how brave he was.
Home.
This is not his home. And there’s no reason you would be dressed to please him in any way.
He falters in his stride as that jumps to the forefront of his mind. His fists clench and his spine straightens, smile fading and wondering what it will take for you to invite him to make it his home. 
Leon could care for you better than anyone else-he knows he can, why don’t you see that? His breathing quickens as do his steps, eager to see you and tell you about the mission, about how he found and protected Ashley, saved her and eliminated all threats-that should show you shouldn’t it? He nods to himself as he thinks that yes, yes that should be enough, you’ll see how good he could be for you, the perfect choice.
A better choice than those stupid little dates you fool yourself with-those ridiculous men that couldn’t please you let alone provide for you. You deserve more, you deserve Leon.
His mind goes silent again, he stops and goes cold, staring dead ahead.
Maybe you’d choose Leon if you saw him against the men you try to date. If you could see how easily he’d beat them, the mere seconds it would take him to kill them. Isn’t a man like that better suited to provide for and protect you? Heat prickles up his spine as he fantasises, imagining you caring for him in the aftermath. You’d be pleased, he’s sure of it, satisfied with his ability to protect you and you’d clean him up, wipe the blood off of him and kiss his wounds, coo at him and let him know that he did a good job taking care of you.
The thought of your soft lips on him makes him blink, realise he’s getting a little cold and wonder why he even stopped-he’s mere feet away from your building after all. Odd.
Shaking his head in confusion and smiling again softly at the thought of seeing you, he heads inside.
After he knocks on your door, he breathes shakily and his hands tremble as he waits for you to open it, as if he’s 16 again waiting to pick up a girl for a high school dance.
What is wrong with me?
The second you open the door he can’t stop himself lurching forward, throwing his arms over your shoulders and tugging you into his chest. He’s greeted with a soft yelp from you, surprised by his sudden outburst-and his presence, to be honest. 
Leon’s thoughts go quiet, but he vaguely registers a difference to the previous times earlier today. When he was looking at the man with champagne or the officers interviewing him, it was as though his mind went crystal clear, silent and poised for him to unleash himself on anyone. Now it’s, well, peaceful. It’s the same as when he fell asleep on your couch a couple of months ago and you laid a blanket over him, tucking it in around his sides and making sure he was warm and comfortable. 
It’s just like someone put a warm blanket over his thoughts, like his mind is all hazy and satisfied, simply content to hold you like this. 
He sighs deeply, soaking in the feeling of home-and he smiles as he realises he's decided this will be his home. It may not be yet, but he’s quite sure it will be in the future. You’ll see what a good choice he is for a partner, see how he dotes on you and always puts you first, cares for you in every aspect, and you’ll see that-you’ll see it and you’ll choose him. You have to, he thinks as his grip tightens minutely on you, he doesn’t know what he’ll do if you don’t. 
A deep breath in makes his head spin, makes his eyes flutter closed at the delectable scent he’s inhaling. 
It’s a little like his favourite meal as a child, a little like that beach he went to, a little sweet and a little like the feeling he gets when he sinks into his bed after a long mission. It’s addictive. 
Leon takes a step forward, inadvertently pushing your face into his shoulder and making you grumble indignantly as he buries his face in your neck. He inhales deeply again, desperate for more of whatever it is that smells so good, and his eyes roll back in his head slightly as his head fills with it again. He’s almost dizzy with it, hardly believing something could even be that delicious. 
A light tapping on his back brings him back somewhat, and he registers that you’re trying to ask him something. He loosens his hold ever so slightly but refuses to move back, still soaking in the way you feel in his arms. 
“Hey-hey I said I thought you weren’t coming back so early? What happened? Well I know you can’t exactly say-but like did everything go fine or whatever passes for fine on your missions-”
She cares she cares she wants to know what it was like she wants to know I’m okay I should-I need to-need to reassure her-need to soothe her-make it okay-
He blinks at those thoughts, suddenly registering the desperation in them, the need he usually manages to contain around you. It’s always simmering beneath the surface, but he controls himself around you. Why is tonight so different?
Leon pulls back and settles for standing in front of you, flexing his fingers as they itch to touch you again. 
“It was-yeah, well I guess everything went as it was supposed to-I-I managed to-I did what I went to do, anyway, so that’s the uh-that’s-that’s the-fuck what is that smell?”
He vaguely hears another noise of indignation as he sidesteps you and walks toward your kitchen a little. 
“Hey! Kennedy what are you-fine okay well I made that pasta dish you liked a couple weeks ago? It’s probably that now can you just-”
“No it’s-it doesn’t smell like that it’s like-did you get a new candle or something? Have you started using incense? God it’s like-it’s really good-”
A sigh reaches his ears and he knows if he turns around you’ll be staring at him with that tired look you always wear when he’s doing something stupid or annoying. It sits uncomfortably in him and he tries to push his questioning out of his mind, attempting to focus on calming you, making sure you know it’s okay, he’s okay, he’s back now and everything’s fine. A different part of his brain asks why he’s suddenly so over protective, why can’t he handle even the idea of you in the slightest bit of distress? The protective part of him wins though, unsurprisingly.
“Christ well I’m glad you’re back either way-none of my other friends help me lug furniture around my apartment for hours on end after all, gotta keep you around for a few things don’t I-”
He hears your footsteps a fraction of a second before he feels you, your fingers sliding over his shoulder and gently squeezing, a brief touch as you walk by him and into your living room. His skin warms where you touch it, heat blossoming across his shoulder while he watches you pad into your living room.  
His heart aches for a second, watching how domestic this scene is. The comfy clothes you’re wearing, the smell of dinner lingering in the air, how you let him be in your space because there’s no way he’s not meant to be here, where he belongs. 
The sheer rightness of it floors him for a second, the belonging he feels and the craving thrumming through him to just exist in your space with you. He feels like he can’t breathe, throat tight and a weight on his chest at the image of waking up next to you, his clothes next to yours, you nagging him about taking too long in the shower-he’s dizzy again suddenly, mind foggy at the need for it, the need for that rightness and belonging. 
Without thinking he takes a couple of quick strides toward you, halting when you look back with a surprised expression. 
What the fuck am I doing? Get a goddamn hold of yourself, control yourself and act normal-
Taking a deep breath, he walks at a normal speed and sinks down onto your couch. You raise your eyebrows but don’t say anything, stepping over his sprawled out legs to take your place next to him. 
He watches out of the corner of his eye, feels his heart beat quicken as he sees you shuffle around to get comfortable and extend your legs toward him, evidently intent on resting them over his lap.
Yet when you actually do so, when he can feel your calves settled onto his thighs, his heart beat slows down again. Much slower than it was before, in fact, as though he’s in a deep sleep. He furrows his brow at the feeling, trying not to let on how confused he is at how his body is acting today. 
Overflowing with bloodlust earlier, and now he feels better than he has in, well, he can’t even remember the last time he felt this good. It almost feels like he’s been drugged somehow, like his mind is all foggy and hazy as he soaks in the feeling of you touching him. Your body against his, what else could possibly matter? 
You seem to realise that he’s not in the mood to do much talking and press play for whatever you were watching before he came in, something he vaguely recognises as one of your childhood favourites, one you told him about a few months back.
‘Would you stop laughing at me? KENNEDY! Stop laughing I swear to god-it’s just-it’s not the greatest thing ever of course not, I just watched it a lot when I was a kid and it’s kinda comforting-I don’t watch it for the cinematography or whatever of course I don’t-it’s just like being back home and being safe and warm and happy yknow? Whatever laugh at me if you want but it’ll still cheer me up when I’m worried or upset-’
Leon’s body tenses as he realises why you’re watching it, why your body is curled slightly towards his.
“Are you-were you…very worried about me-my mission?” 
His voice is soft, gentler than he even knew he was capable of, as he tries to fight the need steadily burning in him. It’s different than he usually feels around you, more intense and all consuming, it makes him feel as though there’s no other option than wrapping his arms around you, tugging you into his lap and comforting you until he’s sure you’re okay. It confuses him-that’s what he usually wants to do when he sees you’re upset, but since he knows he’s just your friend he holds back and lets you rant and rave, initiate contact that you want. And now-his body is itching, simmering with the need to hold you close, like he knows exactly what you need and how to calm you and he needs to because it means he’s a bad partner if he doesn’t make you feel better, if he can’t make it all okay for you-
He blinks himself out of these thoughts when you turn your head to look at him, cheeks heating a little as you reach to grab his hand, squeeze it gently and admit that yes, of course I was worried about you you idiot-
Then you simply turn back to the tv, shuffling a little closer to him. He watches you for most of the evening, marvelling at how his day has gone. How much stronger, instinctive and primal everything has been.
-
When he wakes in his own bed, in his own apartment the next day, he feels bereft and lost. His bed feels empty though he’s never had another person in it, his apartment feels quiet though it’s only ever him making noise in it. 
Before his eyes even open his arm is groping across his sheets. When he finds no one else there (why would there be anyone?) a surge of worry grips him, wondering where you’ve gone, why aren’t you with him, next to him, sleeping in his arms and letting him take care of you? And then he opens his eyes and realises that oh, of course you’re not sleeping next to him-because you have no reason to. 
He sits up and lets his duvet fall to his lap, shivering slightly in the cool air of his bedroom as he rubs his eyes tiredly. Apparently he hasn’t adjusted from his mission yet, and the fluke of yesterday is still plaguing him. 
Flopping back onto his bed with a soft thump, Leon groans a little to himself and wonders when he’s going to feel normal again. When he can go back to being a friend you deserve, rather than someone ready to kill at a moment's notice, and intent on making you his. 
Woah, no no no-wait a second-
Leon freezes with his hands running through his hair, eyes flicking open and swallowing nervously. He’s never been a particularly…possessive man, and the realisation that he now very much wants to make sure you’re his and his alone, that you’re never with another man because Leon is the one who can take care of you, he’s the one who can provide for you and-
Jesus stop it stop it stop it-
Leon sits up abruptly and swings his legs over the edge of his bed, ripping back the covers as he goes. 
The realisation disturbs him. 
He’s wanted to be with you, he’s wanted to be yours-but this is the first time he’s felt such an intense need for you to be his. The thought of you on dates and with other men has never been a happy one, but right now it makes him murderous. He doesn’t just want you to be his partner, but to completely belong to him, to wear his clothes, sleep in his bed, spend his money, drown in his scent.
Scent. Fucking hell-scent?
Leon stares at the wall opposite him, mind flitting between the addictive thought of you smelling like him and how utterly weird that is.
He sifts through his feelings slowly, deciphering why he suddenly thinks you’d be best wearing his scent. 
Unfortunately the only thing he comes up with is that it will mean you’re truly his, that you belong to him and him alone. That other men will know they can’t have you, they’ll know how well he takes care of you, how well he satisfies you. 
He blinks in surprise at his own thoughts, and stands abruptly. 
Leon pads into his bathroom and runs the shower, waiting for it to heat up as he looks in the mirror. His view is critical, drifting over his chest and down to his stomach, over his hips and his cock, below to his thighs. 
As steam fills the room, Leon runs his fingers over his collarbone. 
He fleetingly imagines the soft press of your lips against it, small kisses tucked into the hollows and licks traced across his throat. His cock jumps at the fantasy, hardening slightly as it often does when he thinks of you. There’s a crooked white line that streaks across his pecs, a scar to remember one of his earliest missions by. He rubs at it gently and wonders what you’d think of it, if you’d be repulsed or if you’d push more delicate kisses into his skin over it, maybe you’d think it’s unattractive or maybe you’d be pleased by the evidence of his capability. He was wounded and yet he endured, kept going and persisted. Brought himself to this point, to a time where he’s capable enough for you, strong enough and brave enough.
More steam fogs up the mirror a little and he looks further down to his toned stomach, the dips on his hips and pelvis. He frowns a little as he thinks that maybe you’d want someone buffer, someone whose strength is evident, poured into their body in defined abs and chiselled muscles. Leon is stronger than most and looks capable, but it doesn’t show the same way. He’s not ripped like the men who preen at themselves in the gym every day, his body is built for practicality. His waist is trim, shoulders broad and stomach toned to ensure he can move, can fight exactly the way he needs to. It’s layers of muscles and fat, tissue to pad him out a little more and make him better.
His hand stops moving where he’s tracing the faint lines of his abdomen. What if you didn’t like it? What if he bared himself and showed you everything, the half closed slit from a knife sitting low on his stomach, minor because of the way he’s built himself, and the yellowing bruise on the side of his torso, and you decided you wanted smooth skin, evident muscles, the kind for show not for use? 
Maybe you wouldn’t think him attractive, not pretty or handsome. His heart feels heavy at that, at the thought that he hasn’t pleased you in some way, that he’s let you down. It makes his body tense slightly, the entirety of him yearning to make it right, to preen and purger and pick at himself until he’s exactly what you want. Molded to fit your desires and needs, perfection in your eyes and nothing less. Anything less isn’t acceptable. 
His hand trembles a little as his thoughts dart around, jumbled and messy and all he can think is that he needs to be what you want, he has to be exactly right for you because anything else isn’t possible. How could he bear to displease you? How could he be lacking for you in any way, shape or form?
Leon blinks, pressing his fingers into the grooves of his hips and sliding over them, dipping down toward his half hard cock and back up over a healed bullet wound high on his hip. 
His mind is chaotic and messy and he hates it, used to feeling control and knowing what's happening and yet now? Now he’s having bouts of murderous rage, obsessive love for you, fits of possession and sudden fears his body isn’t good enough. Apart from the fact that he’s never quite this homicidal in his everyday life-even on missions it’s just a job, no feelings involved-he’s also never been quite this obsessed with you, or insecure about his own body.
Even though he’s wanted to be with you since he’s known you, he's never been this utterly consumed with it. It’s never felt this…instinctive before, like some part of his brain is wired to you, focused on pleasing you and making you happy and providing for you-like he needs it just as much as eating and drinking and sleeping.
He’s always been rather happy with his body as well, aware that women find it attractive and that he knows how to use it. And yet, all he can think as he stares at his foggy reflection in the mirror is that if you don’t like it, he’ll do whatever it takes to change, to be enough for you.
Leon sighs and drops his hand, stepping into his shower and tipping his head back to soak his hair through. He always takes his showers scaldingly hot and right now the heat soothes him, works on the aching muscles that are taut across his back, the tension in his shoulders and the stiffness in his neck. 
The warmth doesn’t curb the growing heat that spreads through his veins though, the prickling up his spine as his blood rushes to his cock. Leon grimaces as his shaft bobs against his stomach, flushed and sensitive as the water beats down on him.
He fucking hates doing this.
He can never stop himself from thinking of you, and there’s a moment of pleasure when he comes, but after-it’s just shame. It grows in him and stays for a few days, hollows out a part of his chest and fills it with embarrassment and guilt that he could act so crudely towards you. And then it eases up, he convinces himself it’s not so bad really, he’ll go and see you, stay over at your place, and it all starts again. Every few days, like clockwork.
Leon presses his lips together and balls up his fist, digging his nails into his palm.
Disgusting-depraved, she’d hate you, she’d think you’re repulsive if she could see you-you know she would, you know how filthy this is-you’re defiling her, you know you are-shaming her by behaving so perversely-can’t you even control your base instincts-behaving like a fucking anim-
He pulls his arm back, baring his teeth as he yearns for the satisfaction of his fist cracking against the shower tiles. Before he lets his fist fly, it hits him, what he’s doing, and he stumbles back a step, slipping a little against the wet floor. 
His vision clears all of a sudden and his legs weaken, falling to his knees in the bottom of his shower. The small sting of pain that shoots up his thighs is distant though, compared to the throbbing that pulses through his member, the need he can’t ignore anymore now that his anger has dissipated. 
Leon feels his hand shake as he moves to grip his cock, rage gone but shame still flowing through him like a disease. It nestles in every corner of him and his eyes burn as he pumps his fist up and down slowly, squeezing a little when he reaches the tip, twisting as he goes down, pressing lightly on the prominent veins decorating his shaft. Leon’s sensitive, worked up and on a knife’s edge already, part of him still back in your apartment with you last night, part of him dreaming of being in bed with you. A pained sigh escapes him as he feels the coil tightening in his gut, more fragile than usual, like his body has been waiting for this for months.
He presses his thumb over his slit and rubs gently, waiting for the release he knows it will bring.
But-
It doesn’t.
It makes his hips buck forward and his other hand scrabbles at the tiles on the wall, trying to stabilise himself, as his eyes roll back in his head. He keeps rubbing his thumb back and forth, thinking it will only take another moment for him to come, it’ll only take a second, just a little bit more-
A stifled cry works its way out of his throat and he tips his head back, breathing raggedly while his eyes start blurring. The pressure turns into pain, stinging sensations shooting up into his gut and settling in his belly, pushing away the need and desire that had pooled there. It makes his thighs tremble, and he gasps as he pulls his hand away, sitting back on his heels.
He lets the water beat down on him, watching it stream over his thighs and towards the plug hole. He pants into the silence of the bathroom, brows furrowing in confusion.
That has never happened before.
Leon pulls his bottom lip into his mouth as he thinks, mind wandering back to the times he’s attempted to get himself off but been too tired and strung out from a mission, times he’s been too drunk to chase pleasure properly. But this is different, he’s not exhausted, he’s sober, he’s enthusiastically doing everything he can to find that release-and yet, nothing. 
Shakily, he lifts his hand up again and grasps himself. He hisses immediately at the sensation, at the tenderness there, but grits his teeth and pumps his hand up and down again. Maybe he needs to take it slower, work up to it a little more?
Dropping his head, Leon spits quietly and watches his saliva catch on where he’s gripping his shaft, immediately spreading it and sighing at the brief satisfaction it provides. 
Within seconds he’s at that peak again, still partly wound up from the first attempt. He lets his eyes fall shut this time to try and enhance the pleasure, letting himself feel nothing but the way his hand feels around his member, the blood rushing through him, the water bouncing off his skin. 
Tentatively, he shifts his arm so he can pay attention to the tip of his cock again-thinking surely this must be it, he’s perfectly balanced on the edge, just a little bit more and it’ll push him over-
His head drops back on his shoulders with a low roar as he still finds himself unable to go just that smallest bit further, an inhuman noise that spills from the depths of him, some sound he didn’t even know he could make. A sound of frustration, of inadequacy and need. Before his movements verge into pain like before, he plunges his hands into his wet hair and pushes it back off of his forehead where the water had plastered it to his skin.
Unexpectedly, his eyes become blurry suddenly and his thoughts flit back to you.
What if this is ongoing? What if somehow, someday, he’s with you and he can’t continue? What if his body fails him and he can’t please, can’t satisfy you?
The thought is abhorrent, making his veins roar with fury, and he shakes his head though there’s no one to witness it, promises himself he’ll be good enough for you though there’s no one to hear it.
Leon rises unsteadily to his feet and reaches for the temperature dial, grimacing as he turns it to the coldest it can go, trying to calm his body if he’s not going to find the release he seeks. 
-
After a week, a painful week of not seeing you due to conflicting schedules, he gets a message. Brief, blunt, straight to the point and telling him he needs to go to the lab to recheck everything.
Ah. Las Plagas. 
Just when he thinks the nightmare in Spain is fully over, more tests. More poking and prodding and pricking with stupidly big needles, more of him being nothing more than a little lab rat for them. 
He only sighs when he receives the message though. Knows he can’t get out of going and accepts that he’s going to spend the next day stuck in the same white room they always out him in, the one that has alarming amounts of confusing medical technology that he was no knowledge of, and that smells horribly strongly of disinfectant.
It makes his nose burn whenever he has to go in there, and he dreads it as his eyes scan over the rest of the message. One day it’s going to be the end of him he swears, all the tests they put him through. From sheer boredom if nothing else. There’s generic questions, there’s the hour or so where he has to lie on that weird dentist’s office-like chair, the hour where they stick various wires to him and monitor something on a little screen.
And then there’s the two hours he dreads the most, when they ask him the more personal questions. The ones about the mission, about his life, about his relationships, about life since the mission, side effects and memories and trauma and everything Leon never wants to talk about. 
He thinks of you the entire morning, as he showers, as he dresses, as he drives and as he heads toward the lab. You’d make him feel better, you’d cheer him up, he’s sure of it.
Leon doesn’t think there’s anything he could conceive of that you couldn’t make better. If you were one of those doctors or the one asking him questions, he’d answer every single one in a heartbeat. He’d do whatever you want, tell you anything.
But unfortunately for him, you are not one of those doctors. You’re still at your place and probably still asleep judging by the, quite frankly, disgustingly early time his watch displays. His strides down one of the long white corridors slow as he lets his thoughts wander, lets his mind drift away to some fantasy where he’s in your bed and curled up with you.
It would be a different life, a better one than he leads now. Maybe he’d still be a police officer in this life-for longer than one apocalyptic day, that is. 
Him and Chris would be accomplished members of the force-though maybe he’d have progressed to the elite STARS team and be one of them. Maybe he’d meet you there, maybe you’d work there too. A simple office romance, the officer falling for the secretary. He wouldn’t be pulled away to backwater towns in god knows where, chasing down the most depraved things humankind has invented. 
Leon reaches the end of the corridor and is ripped out of his daydreams much too soon for his liking, arriving at a blank, white door with just a simple triangle on it. For a split second he thinks of Saddler’s symbol and his hand tightens on the doorknob, pushing it open with more force than necessary.
When he sees the two doctors sitting on the other side of the steel table, his body relaxes once again. The rage calms and his blood stops roaring in his ears, he lets out a deep breath and closes the door behind him.
-
A number of hours later, he’s sat at the table once again. They did the first questions, they did the tests and the poking and prodding (they attempted to put rather a large needle where they really shouldn’t have, and one doctor may or may not have left with a broken finger) and now they’ve gotten to the in-depth part. The personal part, which he hates.
They make him go over the mission again, see if anythings changed in his mind or in his memories. They focus a lot on Ada, on his disdain for her when he talks about seeing her again, having to rely on her information because he lost Ashley even after everything that happened in Racoon City.
When they ask the first question about Ada, about how it felt to see her for the first time, something clicks inside him. It’s as though something slots together and closes up, letting his frustration build up inside him instead of letting it flow out. 
It’s worse when they ask how it felt compared to their time in Racoon City, if it was like history repeated itself. That question hits something within him, rewords itself and stews inside him. They ask if history repeated itself, and Leon hears that they think his feelings for you are invalid, that he feels more for Ada than he does for you. He hears that what you have is nothing, that they’re questioning his love for you-his devotion. He can’t have that.
His fists clench where they rest on the table, trembling ever so slightly with the tension pushed into them. 
His mind goes quiet again.
Leon’s been staring at the table through this interrogation, but now he raises his eyes, looking out from beneath furrowed brows and silky hair at the two doctors. There’s the odd feeling of something crawling up his neck, over his cheeks and building up to his eyes-he’s not sure what the doctors see but their faces pale a little, and one of them actually jerks his head back minutely.
In a startlingly calm voice, Leon tells them in no uncertain terms, “I will not hear, or say, another word about that woman.”
The last word is accentuated by his fist slamming onto the table though, echoing around the room and making the doctors jump in their chairs, betraying his calm exterior. 
Leon looks down at his hands and blinks in surprise, staring at the dent he’s somehow caused. The tabletop is inches of thick steel, but they must have changed it right? They must have moved a flimsier, thinner table in here for some reason, there’s no way he could have dented it with just his fist otherwise. Right?
That thought clears away the quiet blanket over his thoughts and he comes back to himself, clearing his throat and shifting his hands to rest in his lap. He watches the doctors settle back down in their chairs, giving him odd, and slightly worried, looks as they collect the papers they dropped onto the table.
Hesitantly, one of them asks if he’s experienced anything odd lately. Anything that could be considered a side effect, if he’s changed in any way since Las Plagas.
Leon scoffs and opens his mouth to laugh at them, wanting to sneer at them that of fucking course nothing’s changed, look at him he’s fine isn’t he? He’s not that stupid, if something happened to him he would have said something of course.
And then he thinks of the odd moments where silence falls in his mind, where he’s consumed by the need to see blood, to rip open flesh and tear skin with his fingers, watch someone's insides pool on the floor because they made a comment about Spain or looked at you in a way he didn’t like. He thinks of every night since he saw you, when he’s dreamed about cradling you to his body and filling you up, watching his seed leak from your pretty cunt and stuffing it back in with his fingers. He thinks of the other morning when he dug around in his closet and was hit by a wave of that scent, the one he smelled in your apartment, when he found the shirt that smelled like that, a shirt you’d left at his apartment a few weeks back-and one he’d promptly shoved his face into, kneeling on his bedroom floor and letting his eyes roll back in his head as he surrounded himself in that scent. He thinks of the shower, of his desperate attempts to cum that resulted in nothing but frustration and aching need.
“Do I look like anything’s wrong with me? Think of some better questions next time, yeah doc?”
-
A couple of days pass and he’s consumed by the thought that maybe Las Plagas has had some effect on him. 
And then on the third day, he gets a fever.
He doesn’t believe it’s a fever, after all the weather has been getting warmer lately (by about one degree) and he’s been sequestered in his apartment all day, he’s just feeling a little caged and claustrophobic is all. 
Leon convinces himself that that’s it, it has nothing to do with Las Plagas, nothing to do with Saddler and Spain, he’s just a little out of it, surely.
He’s changing his sweat soaked shirt when he gets the text from you, asking him if he wants to come over for that pasta dish he loved so much, the one that smelled so goddamn good. There’s the odd feeling again of something crawling up his neck and onto his face as he reads the message over and over again, looking for a hidden meaning or something he’s missed, something more than just a friendly dinner invitation.
He takes a cold shower to cool his body down before he drives over to your place, and though he feels better under the freezing water, as soon as he steps out he’s burning up again. Tugging at the collar of his shirt as he thinks about seeing you, feeling the heat in him rise a few degrees as he wonders what comfy shorts you’ll be wearing this time.
There’s a minute part of his brain that tells him he should stay home, not risk infecting you with whatever is going on with him. But the rest of his brain feeds him memories of you, lewd images and fantasies from the depths of his mind and kicks up the temperature in him, convincing him there’s no other option than going to see you. How could he ever deny you? 
Besides, something in him is craving your presence. It’s not unusual, but he somehow knows this odd fever will be better around you. It will ease and become better to deal with, he’ll see you and his body will figure the rest out, he’s sure of it.
-
When he arrives at yours, he’s breathing heavily. 
The drive was almost unbearable, heat notching up in the enclosed space of his car and with his daydreams of you. He made the mistake of remembering how good your apartment smelled last time he was there and before he knew it there was a flush growing on his cheeks, chest heaving up and down and mouth dry.
Leon knocks on the door and fidgets with his hands as he waits for you, every fibre of him aching to push inside and be with you, touch you.
He mops his brow with the hem of his shirt, grimacing and wondering if maybe he really should have stayed home-and then he hears a clatter from inside your apartment and you calling out that it’s already open.
The sound of your voice buries any worries or doubts he has, coaxes him into twisting the handle and taking hasty steps into your apartment-and tripping a little over the floor in the process.
He stops almost immediately. That same scent from last week is everywhere again, clinging to his clothes and filling his nostrils. 
Leon presses a hand to the wall next to him as his head spins, unable to stop himself inhaling deeply and breathing in as much of it as he can. It’s impossibly addictive, as though there will never be a thing more perfect to him and he can’t get enough. He mops his forehead again and wipes his hands on his trousers, closing his eyes for a few seconds as he breathes heavily. 
The scent does something…different, this time.
Last week it was like coming home and falling into your arms, like your fingers carding gently through his hair as you tell him softly about your day. 
This week-
Oh, this week.
This week it’s like the dream he had of you the other night. The one where he was sitting back against the cushions of your couch with you straddling him, sinking down slowly over his cock until he sensed how tired you were and gripped your hips, holding you in place against his body as he drove himself up into you. It’s a little like the time he’d leaned against his kitchen counter eating his breakfast and couldn’t stop imagining bending you over it, sinking to his knees and using his thumbs to spread you open before lapping at your cunt.
His body makes him take a few steps forward before he catches up with himself, not knowing what he’s even moving for.
Her. Need her. Get her, move-walk-find her-need to have her-take take take-
Opening his eyes, Leon finds himself at the entrance to your kitchen.
You have your back to him, bobbing your head gently to whatever song is playing as you chop vegetables. You notice him with a quick glance backward, subconsciously aware of being watched, and shoot him a smile before turning around again.
Your hair moves as you do, and Leon is suddenly suffocating under that scent, drowning in that deliciousness he can’t stop inhaling. 
His vision dims ever so slightly around the edges and he blinks, ignoring it in favour of walking unsteadily toward you, becoming more and more sure by the second that the scent is somehow coming from whatever you’re doing.
You don’t even appear to notice his behaviour, the way he stops in the middle of your kitchen and a few feet behind you, curiously tilting his head as he breathes heavily and soaks in more of the addictive scent. 
He takes another step forward just as you turn back again, hair flipping over your shoulder once more and inadvertently revealing the soft skin of your neck. 
It’s almost painful, the way that scent hits him-the way it envelops all his senses and burrows into him. His nose stings ever so slightly and his head jerks back, eyes widening as he realises it’s you.
Instinctively, he takes another two steps and finds himself a hair's breadth away from you, chest barely a centimetre away from your back. He feels you jolt at the sudden presence, hands faltering on the chopping board as you turn your head a little, muttering his name questioningly, worryingly. 
As though on autopilot, with no mind of his own, his hands reach forward and grip your hips, digging his fingers in slightly as he inhales once again. He distantly hears the knife in your hand drop onto the wooden board but he ignores it, breathing in and letting his eyes flutter closed as his body throbs and pulses at the delectable scent. 
His name rings out over your music, louder and blunter than before.
With a heaving gasp, Leon stumbles back from you and feels his shoulder bump harshly against the doorframe, welcoming the shooting pain through his arm and back as he attempts to clear his mind. 
Did he really-did he actually just grab your hips and-
Did he just smell you?
It would be better from the source though wouldn’t it? Look at her pretty pulse point-the way it tics and jumps-just waiting to be kissed and bitten isn’t it? Don’t you think the scent would be so much stronger-
Leon clears his throat, trying to silence the argument in his head as he regards you warily. A pang shoots through him, bones aching at the thought that he’s just probably ruined this forever-you’ll tell him to leave and you’ll never want to see him again-you’ll find someone else and invite them over and he won’t have his mate-
He squeezes his eyes shut and turns his head to the side, unsuccessfully blocking out the longing and the ache thrumming through him-and whatever inside him is calling you his mate.
When he looks at you again, tentatively, he sees you haven’t even moved from your spot by the counter. You’re still facing it, hands resting on the worktop as you look over your shoulder at him somewhat. 
He stutters out an apology, balling his fists as he chokes out that I’m-I’m so sorry I’m sorry I can’t-
You shake your head though, effectively cutting him off and making him press his lips together, eyes blurring as he waits for your rebuttal. You’ll tell him to leave, he’s sure of it, you’ll politely tell him he’s creeped you the fuck out and you never want to see him again-after all what kind of friend smells you?
Curiously, Leon watches your shoulders relax, losing the tension that had you bringing them up and turning your head to look at him better.
“What-Leon what do you need?” 
Not want. What do you need? 
Her.
He shakes his head a little, biting his lip painfully to stop himself from blurting out how much he needs you, how much he craves everything about you from your scent to your touch, for you to just look his way.
He can’t tell you-he can’t-
You’ll be repulsed he knows you will, disgusted at the fact that he can’t breathe when you’re not near, how often he touches himself to the thought of you because nothing else works the same, how often he dreams of being yours and making you his, seeing you in his clothes and in his bed, how tonight just the way you smell is making his cock strain against his zipper.
And yet, he can’t stop the shuddering breath that leaves him, shaky with need, as he chokes out that he just needs You-I just-only-only you I need-fuck-
The scent in the air changes minutely, more heady than before and intense and he almost falls to his knees when it hits him, but instead rushing forward and halting just behind you once again.
His hands twitch when he raises them, unsure whether you mean he can do this or if you just want to know.
And then your hands are on his, guiding them gently to your waist and he all but melts into you, chest pressing to your back and cheek nudging against the side of your head. He breathes in deeply once again, filling his senses with the scent of you. It makes his heart slow and his cock twitch, simultaneously craving the feeling of being in your arms and the need to be surrounded by your warmth. 
He ducks his head slightly, angling his nose further into your hair to get closer to where your scent is strongest, tightening his grip on your waist and flicking his tongue over his lips. 
Leon whimpers at that, nostrils flaring as he realises he can somehow taste you in the air, intensifying your scent and filling his lungs with it. You lean back against him a little, content to let him do what he needs-even if it is a little odd right now.
Gently, he loosens one of his hands from your waist and drags it up a few centimetres, resting his palm over your ribcage and brushing his thumb across the underside of your breast. His mind is foggy at the feeling, hazy from your scent and thoughts fragmented as he touches you, actually touches you like he’s wanted to for years. 
Pushing his hand up further, he hears your breath hitch as he ghosts his fingers over your breast but he’s too distracted to focus on it-part of him preens at the effect he’s having on you, that he’s made you react in some way, but the rest of him is too focused on the path he’s already taking. 
His fingers drag up the column of your throat, slender digits curling around your neck and making you gasp.
Though, he doesn’t wrap his hand around your throat like you anticipate. He keeps shifting his fingers up, pressing the pads of them against your chin and tilting your face up. His hand slides over the same spot, cupping your jaw in his palm with gentle force, keeping your head twisted slightly up and away.
A shaky exhale reaches your ears a split second before you feel his nose against the base of your neck, chin hooked over your shoulder and eyes slipping closed and he drags the tip of it up, up, up, following an invisible line under your jaw and pausing behind your ear.
He hears you sigh contentedly, seemingly satisfied by his action.
“You are-fuck-you smell divine-”
Some sort of contented noise resounds in his chest as he dips his head once more, and he belatedly realises it sounds an awful lot like a purr. 
When you arch your back a little and let him turn your face further away though, well, he can’t find it in himself to care too much about the sounds he's making, simply focused on pressing the bulge in his jeans against your ass, rubbing his nose into the crook of your neck. 
His other arm wraps firmly around your waist and he pulls you back against him, keeping a firm hold on your chin as he purrs into your throat. The vibrations make you bite your lip, bringing one hand up to grip his forearm where it encircles you and resting your head back on his shoulder.
Leon feels the moment you fully relax into him and lean back, satisfied and happy in his arms and it makes him dizzy, drunk on your scent already and struggling to open his eyes and he can’t help it he just can’t-
He flattens his tongue against the dip of your collarbone and drags it up your neck in the same path his nose took, pausing at your pulse point this time. With a deep inhale he fills his senses with your scent once again, absently noticing the sounds in his chest getting lower and rougher, more growls than purrs. It confuses him for a fraction of a second before the taste of your skin fully hits him and he whimpers into you, lets out a pitiful whine as he shoves his face into your neck and sucks an open mouthed kiss onto your ticking pulse. 
That fucking taste-that scent-
Leon’s hands leave your body, pressing onto the counter and crowding you forward as he sucks and sucks and sucks at your neck, desperate to fill his senses with as much of you as he possibly can, to ingrain you in him and never let you go. 
You’re breathing heavily now, gasps forced out of you with every renewed touch from him, but he barely even hears, just distantly feels your hand slide into his hair and chokes on a moan, shoving his cock forward against your ass as his teeth scrape over your pulse point.
The feeling seems to jerk you out of the moment a bit, makes you open your eyes as you groan and pull on his hair to tug his face away from where he’s still mouthing at your neck. 
All Leon knows is that something is trying to stop him and he growls at you, pushing his face into you again and nudging his nose over your throat in a desperate display. His hands revert back to your hips and he pulls you into him, almost rutting against you as he keeps breathing you in. How could anyone stop this? How could anyone try and take this away from him, try to stop him from scenting his mate?
A few days ago he would have baulked at that thought, confused and worried, but now he lets out another contented purr. His mate.
My mate. Need-need to scent and-mine-need to-to take-
The sound shocks you into more action, firmly pulling his head away and turning you both until you’re pointed towards the kitchen door as he keeps trying to nuzzle his nose into your neck again.
And then he freezes. 
With his hands still firmly gripping your hips you stumble back against him slightly before looking up and seeing what he’s so caught by. 
The mirror in the hall, visible from the kitchen, reflects the both of you.
More accurately, it reflects your somewhat tousled hair from his actions, and a shockingly large purplish red bruise blossoming on your neck. It reflects Leon’s hands splayed possessively over your stomach, fingertips digging into your flesh, and his panting form behind you. 
His gaze is fixed, unsurprisingly, on his face. 
Staring unblinkingly at his eyes, his beautiful bright blue eyes, now swimming in blackness. His breath catches and his hold on you falters as he watches himself, how the black murkiness spreads and covers the whites of his eyes, dyes them as though he dipped them in ink.
Your gaze travels over the rest of his face, smooth skin now underlined by slender black blood vessels, snaking out from his eyes over his cheekbones and down towards his mouth a little. 
And then you blink, and the black starts fading. It centres in on his eyes, sucks out of his cheeks and back somewhere inside him, leaving him as unscathed as he was when he left his house this morning. Leon’s lips part, eyes darting over his reflection rapidly as he chases the black veins and his mind races, trying to figure out what’s happening to him. 
The fever settled in him comes rushing back as he remembers it, flaring up again and immediately making him sweat, the crawling sensation over his neck and his face jumps to the forefront of his mind and he grimaces, berating himself for not realising-for telling the doctors that he was fine. Of course he wasn’t of course something has happened and now he might have infected you or what if he can’t control himself around you and he hurts-
He feels you twist in his arms and bring a hand up to brush your fingers over his cheekbone, his eyes flitting over your face as he swallows nervously and leans into your touch. Part of him rings alarm bells in the back of his mind, screams at him that he’s going to hurt you he needs to stop touching you he needs to get out-
Your lips press timidly against his, unmoving for a second before you shift back down onto your feet and watch him, eyes squeezed shut as he breathes tremulously. 
“Leon? Do you-how do you feel?”
He lets out a breath and hesitantly opens his eyes again, almost falling to his knees at the soft look on your face and the worry in your eyes. He’s still warring with himself inside, screaming and shouting that all he needs is you, but what if he hurts you?
All he can get out is a stuttering response that it’s hot-feeling-so so hot-temperature too-too high ‘nd-itchy-everything so-all itchy-
Once more, you floor him. You ask him okay, what do you need?
And he can barely even respond, body struggling with everything since Spain and he just wipes his nose, bites his lip before choking out that I don’t know-you just-feels-more-s’better when I-with you and I don’t know I just-
The smile he receives from you is shaky, but sweet, and he follows you easily as you tug on his hand, walking slowly to your bedroom. 
He trips over his own feet on the threshold to your room, lungs filling up intoxicatingly with your scent again. It’s a hundred times more powerful in here, strengthened by all of your clothes and your products and your bed.
It’s almost as though his throat closes a little at the intensity and he reaches for you as his eyes dart around over your space. His breath quickens as he watches you turn and guide his hands to your hips again, letting him squeeze gently to reassure himself you are here, you want this and you want him. Slowly, he watches you pull up the hem of your shirt until it’s tugged off over your head, body pulsing at the sight of your nude chest.
Leon absentmindedly licks his lips as he stares, gaze turning hungry in a matter of seconds, and he closes the space between you to glide his hands up your torso, hesitating for a split second before he cups your breasts gently. 
All he can think of is how soft you are, and his cock twitches at the feeling.
So fucking soft, so much softer than anything else in his life. He pinches and pulls, tugs and kneads at your chest just to see how you react to it, brushing his thumbs over the peaks of your nipples and listening to the hitch in your breath, carefully kneading at your flesh with his palms and hearing you sigh in satisfaction.
He’s purring again he realises, happy sounds emanating from him and dissipating into your room.
The ache in his cock is undeniable now, throbbing and pulsing against the fabric of his briefs as he explores your chest. He takes another step forward and lets the bulge in his trousers brush against your hip, sliding one hand to your lower back to pull you into him and still groping at your tits with the other. The action makes you gasp and open your eyes after they’d fluttered shut from his ministrations, hands coming up to rest on his lower stomach and picking at the material of his shirt.
That makes him falter, though. He pauses his movements and clears his throat a little as he finally looks at you properly, takes in the desire painted on your face and the way you’ve never looked more perfect.
Dropping his hands from your chest and gripping your wrists to pull you away from taking his shirt off.
Wanna see you-
No you don’t-
You can’t possibly want to see him, there’s no world in which you want to see all the scars and marks and bullet holes, the slits and scrapes and partially healed bruises. 
You wait for him though, stand there gripping the hem of his shirt and wait for him to be okay. 
His heart beats a little faster at the knowledge that you want him, you want to see him how he’s seeing you because you desire him. He can do this, he can-he can please you, if this is what you want he’s going to make sure you get it. You deserve everything, after all.
Leon lets go of your wrists and looks at you through the curtain of his hair, waiting for you to be repulsed and disgusted by his body. 
He sucks in a sharp breath when your hands finally rest on his bare chest, palms lightly laying over his pecs and framing each end of the crooked white scar he has stretched across there, displaying what he knows you’ll hate.
And then you lean in and press a soft kiss over the middle of it, pulling back only a couple of centimetres to look up at him. He whimpers just then, still drunk on your scent and overwhelmed by the tenderness in your touch. 
Quietly, you tell him that they’re part of you, just as pretty as the rest-if not more because it proves what kind of man you are-one who’ll do the right thing, protect what needs protecting-
Leon almost bruises your lips in his frantic attempt to kiss you after that. One of his hands cups the back of your neck to try and pull you somehow closer, keeping you where he needs you as he licks into your mouth and groans at the way you taste. 
He doesn’t even realise he’s walking you backwards until you fall onto your bed, pulling him with you as he paws at the waistband of your shorts. His cock strains against his pants as he tugs the material down your legs, groaning as your panties come into view.
The desperation in him is like nothing he’s ever felt before, like it’s been festering inside him for a while now and you’ve given him an outlet. His veins are burning up, on fire and ready to boil over as a new scent hits him, slightly sweeter than before.
It’s heady, musky and addictive. Leon’s gaze falls to where your legs have spread slightly, displaying the fabric covering your core and the small wet patch decorating it. 
Unable to stop himself, he sinks to his knees in front of the bed and tugs on your thighs, not noticing the odd easiness with which he pulls your entire body down to meet his face. His eyes are trained on your cunt, where the wet cotton clings to your lips and how fucking pretty it is, how much stronger your scent is and how he can taste you in the air again, tongue flicking out over his lips before his brain even catches up with what he’s doing.
His name leaves your lips in a breathy sigh and what’s left of his composure snaps, lurching forward to press his nose up against you. 
Yet again, he purrs against you. The vibrations make your legs tremble, a teasing sensation travelling across your cunt as he breathes you in. 
Leon shifts his head, wraps his arms around your waist to lock you down and pushes his nose against you even harder. With a groan, he rubs the bridge of it over your clothed pussy and bumps it against your clit, feeling your body jerk in surprise. 
You can barely even hear him but he starts mumbling, more to himself than anything, muttering against your soaked panties that y’smell so fucking good-so-I don’t even-m’wanna stay-let me stay here-gonna-gonna make it good-promise sweetheart-smell so delicious how could-how could I not-gotta-m’gotta make sure y’happy don’t I-so fucking good I can’t-how do you smell so-so-oh fuck s’pretty sweetheart-all slick already ‘nd-’nd waiting f’me-m’-m’so sorry baby I-can’t-don’t know why’m-just-just smell so good-can’t stop-sweetheart-please don’t-just-please don’t make me stop m’not-need to taste you-need it-
Two of his fingers clumsily reach up and hook into the material of your panties, pushing them out of his way as though he’s offended by them somehow, annoyed that he’s being restricted from your dripping hole. 
He can feel it again, the sensation of something crawling up his neck as he watches you squirm under his hungry gaze, clenching around nothing. The movement sharpens your scent and a deep growl leaves him just before he drops his head and opens his mouth, securing his lips over your entrance and sucking greedily.
Leon’s eyes roll back in his head, whimpering against you as his mouth fills with your slick and his senses are consumed by you again-he’s vaguely aware of your thighs trembling either side of his head and the way you arch your back, and he hooks his arms up around your waist, biceps crushing your thighs to his ears. His nose rubs deliciously against your clit and makes you buck your hips up; well, you attempt to but his grip is like iron rods bent around you, holding you down as he laps at your cunt.
The room sounds like a fucking porno, slurping noises echoing around as he hungrily drinks down everything you give, licking and swallowing everything that leaks from your aching hole. One of his hands dips down toward where his face is shoved into you, thumb pressing messily into the bundle of nerves, all swollen and begging for his attention.
His tongue flicks out and laves a stripe up your entrance, before he opens his eyes to watch your face, to soak in your expression as he pushes the muscle into you. Leon’s blessed with the sweet sight of your back arching up off the bed and your head being thrown back against the pillows, writhing in his grip as he thrusts his tongue into your cunt and rubs small circles over your clit, pulling the hood back a little and purring into you at the sight of it all red and swollen for him.
As you buck and squirm on the bed, falling over the edge at his desperate actions, he withdraws his tongue and goes back to lapping up your release, slurping and gulping at everything dripping into his mouth. He doesn’t even notice your hand pushing against his head, tugging on his hair and trying to pull him off of you as your body shakes, overstimulated and tense. 
When your nails scratch gently across his scalp he loosens his hold on you slightly, looking up and gasping in heaving breaths, chin slick with your come and nose still rubbing against you and he just can’t-can’t stop-please don’t-mmf-don’t make me stop-need’t taste-need it-don’t-don’t move away-please sweetheart-need-oh fuck-need some more-taste so fucking good-shit-baby m’begging you-
But you still pull him away-his tongue flicks out as his head is tugged back and he strains against your hold, watching your cunt clench and flutter and drip, whining at being deprived of another taste.
When you cup his jaw and sit up though, when your breasts press against his bare chest he looks back up at you and refocuses finally, eventually hearing your words get through his dazed mind and scrambling back up onto the bed, unable to resist you cooing at him, asking if he wants to go further now? Doesn’t he wanna be inside you tonight? You’re ready if he is-
He’s been ready since the second he met you, constantly desperate around you and aching in your presence, Thought he falters now, hesitating for a split second as he remembers his shower, how he tried so fucking hard and he still couldn’t come. What if it happens now-what if it wasn’t a fluke and he can’t please you-can’t fill you up like he desperately needs to, like his body and mind are begging him to?
Your lips are on his again before he starts spiralling too much, quieting his mind like before, putting a blanket over his thoughts and calming him like nothing else can.
Don’t think, yeah? Just feel-whatever you need right?
Leon almost collapses on top of you at that comment, somewhat laughing at himself at how everything you do makes him quite literally weak at the knees, and purrs happily once again at the bulge in his pants grinding over your core, already partly soaked from you.
Clumsily, he pushes at the waistband of his sweats and briefs, not bothering to take them off completely before he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance. 
He wants to take it slow-he really does, he tries so fucking hard, but you feel too good and the whimper that escapes your throat does nothing to hold him back, only entices him and encourages him into sinking fully into your warm, wet heat. 
Leon does fall onto you then, bottoming out and releasing a guttural groan into your neck as he pants and presses his skin against yours. The heat is almost unbearable, that fever in him rearing its ugly head once more as the temperature between your sweat slicked bodies climbs, skin sliding against skin as he ruts his hips into you.
He feels your nails dig into his back and he arches his back, belly pushing into yours, and tips his head back, mumbling to himself, some kind of nonsense you can’t understand. When he drops back down and brackets your head with his forearms though that’s when you hear it, how he’s muttering to himself that he’s not going to last very long, he can’t take much more it’s too much it feels too good-
He doesn’t even expect you to hear him, so when you start mumbling back that it’s okay, he can go as fast or as a slow as he wants, s’whatever he needs, whatever Leon needs tonight-
Ducking his head again, he buries his face in your neck and inhales deeply, hips stuttering already as he scents you. His hips aren’t even thrusting properly, simply grinding listlessly into you and barely pulling back, rhythm messy and uneven as he pushes his nose against your pulse point.
Faint babbling of him telling you that m’gonna-can’t-m’gonna cum I can’t-no s’not-s’-too soon I need-fuck I can’t-can’t fucking stop I can’t-shit sweetheart m’gonna-oh fuck fuck m’gonna-m’gonna cum- is the warning you get before his full weight drops down on you, growls vibrating against your neck as his hips buck erratically, warmth spreading inside you and wet squelching filling the air as he fucks his come deeper into you, muttering again something about his seed and how you’re gonna take it, how good you’re gonna look for him, how fucking perfect it feels to fill you up-
It takes a few minutes for his breathing to even out fully, steadying slowly as he gingerly pushes himself up onto his forearms above you. He’s greeted with your heated and sweaty face, and he thinks this is his favorite look-you, fucked out and blissful after he’s emptied his come into you. When he looks at you your eyes widen minutely before relaxing again, face softening as your hand comes up to brush over his cheekbone.
Leon is unsure exactly what the slight shock was for, but he presses a soft kiss to the pad of your thumb as he watches you contentedly, satisfied and drunk on you. 
It’s a pretty image, Leon hovering above you covered in a sheen of sweat, arms trembling with exertion, and black blood vessels receding across his cheeks. It’s almost faded now, but you briefly wonder if it should have been as attractive as it was to see his eyes turn black as he came inside you. 
The fever inside him is already dying out, the ache in his body is settling into a manageable feeling at the bottom of his stomach-and somehow he knows, he just knows it’ll be okay.
Unless the fever hits him again.
Unless, right?
part 2
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revasserium · 6 months
Note
Can i request OPLA zoro where he doesn't get along with reader but calls her my girl in front of a baratie waiter who was flirting with her.
my girl
zoro; 2,438 words; fluff, kinda enemies to lovers, fem!reader, straw hat!reader, lots of banter, slow...burn?
summary: just cause you don't see eye to eye doesn't mean zoro's down to watch you get hit on while he's in the same bar, either.
a/n: again. i've got no excuse. pls continue to send more requests feed my opla!zoro obsession u__u
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it is perhaps what therapists and psychiatrists would call an incompatibility of character. or maybe something about you and him that simply acted like two jigsaw pieces from completely different puzzles. or maybe luffy had just jinxed it when he’d said the first time that he sensed some “tension amongst the crew”, but it’s no secret that you and zoro don’t exact see eye to eye.
in fact, sanji thinks, it might only be a matter of time before you each try to take the other’s eyes out permanently.
“you’re really not worried?” he asked luffy as they’d watched zoro and you bicker all the way down the wobbling boardwalk leading up to the baratie, you sniping at zoro for getting in your way and zoro biting back something equally acerbic and childish about you being too clumsy to be a good pirate.
“huh? why would i be worried? they get along just fine!” luffy had laughed, eyes bright and round as he’d readjusted his hat and bounded off towards the entrance, whooping about being hungry enough to take down an entire sea cow.
“wh —”
“bit rich, since you and zoro are always at each other’s throats, no?”
nami bumps sanji’s arm as she strolls by him with a stack of empty crates. sanji squawks, readjusting his own bags before jogging after her.
“c’mon, you know that’s different!”
nami smirks but doesn’t grace that with an answer, instead, she lets her eyes flicker back to where you and zoro are still snarking at each other even as the bewildered looking fishman at the front leads you all around back to the kitchen entrance.
“— wouldn’t have been in that situation if you’d just —”
“yeah? and if i’d just stayed put like you said, the entire going merry would’ve gone up in smoke cause last i checked, wood is very flammable!”
“the merry’s not that fragile.”
“you wanna bet?”
“yeah, maybe i do —”
“what’s goin’ on here? didn’t i tell you lot to get lost?” zeff’s gruff voice interrupts your bickering as the peg-legged chef looks from zoro to you and then the rest of the crew, “gotta new one, didya? don’t remember you from the last time these idiots were here.”
“she’s barely an upgrade from the clown head —”
you slam your heel into the toe of zoro’s boot and he hisses, nearly dropping his armful of crates.
“what he means is that i’m the brains of the operation —”
“we don’t need brains —”
“oh, so you’re admitting that you didn’t have any before i got here?”
zoro glares, dropping the crates as luffy pushes past you both to clap zeff on the shoulder and offer him a huge stack of berry.
“we came to pay you back for the meal last time! and to buy a new one! and… maybe some extra food stuff if you’ve got it.”
zeff opens his mouth to answer but it’s drowned out by the sound of your voice as you jab a finger into zoro’s chest.
“— just because you can’t hold more than one cohesive thought in your head at once doesn’t mean that —”
“— what’s that even supposed to mean? like you can think about two things at once?”
“enough! you two — outta the kitchen, now! i won’t have your lovesick teenage yappin’ distractin’ my line chefs!”
you both jump at zeff’s voice, and an unpleasant heat creeps into your cheeks as you realize that the entire kitchen had indeed gone very quiet, most of the white-clad workers staring at you and zoro.
“i need a drink,” zoro says, rolling his shoulders as he sidesteps you and pushes his way out of the kitchen.
“look, sir, i didn’t mean —” you take half a step forward but zeff jabs a finger at the doors still swinging in zoro’s wake.
“i said out!”
you glance between zeff and the rest of your crew for a split second before turning and scrambling from the kitchen, looking abashed.
“oh no, c’mon zeff, you didn’t need to yell at her like that —” sanji sighs as he tries to go after you, but nami nails him in the stomach with one of her arms.
“nope. this is something they need to work out on their own. and you’re on grocery shopping duty with me, remember?” she flashes him a smile even as he deflates slightly and turns back to the work of haggling rations out of the baratie’s storerooms.
you find zoro already posted up at the bar, even though the hour is still early enough that there’s only a few other patrons, mainly keeping to themselves. you fight the urge to march up to him and give him an earful about embarrassing you in front of sanji’s old master like that but zeff’s words about making a scene keeps your lips clamped shut.
instead, you seat yourself as far from zoro as humanly possible and wait for the bartender to sidle over. he flashes you a winning smile, making no attempt to conceal the way his eyes drag from your hair to your face and then down to your cleavage, where his gaze rests for a beat too long before he clears his throat.
“what can i get you, gorgeous? something sweet and bubbly, perhaps? or maybe something a bit more dark and… seductive? i can have a custom drink whipped up for you in a few if you’d like… on the house, of course.”
he shoots you a wink that has your eyebrows hiking up your forehead.
“laying it on thick, are we?”
the bartender shrugs, seemingly unbothered by your lack of enthusiasm.
“place like this doesn’t exactly breed subtlety.”
you make a noncommittal noise before sighing, “i’ll have a dirty martini, shaken not stirred, straight, with a twist, please.”
to his credit, the bartender doesn’t miss a single beat, “ah, a woman of taste, though i’ll admit that i prefer my martini’s naked instead of shaken, hm?”
he waggles his eyebrows and if it weren’t for the loud cough from down the bar drawing the bartender’s attention, you would’ve rolled your eyes.
at the opposite end of the bar, zoro taps his empty drink glass against the waxy hardwood, a vein ticking in his jaw. he’d listened to the entire exchange with a growing annoyance festering in the depths of his stomach. and here he was, hoping for a moment of quiet without the sound of your voice yammering in his ear. he shoots the bartender a glowering look as the man refills his drink and tries to make his way back down the bar to you.
zoro tosses the entire drink back in one and sets the empty glass down with a loud clack, clearing his throat as the bartender turns to stare at him. he holds the man’s gaze for a full three seconds before looking pointedly down at his glass and the bartender’s face visibly reddens.
“here you are, sir — the last three are on the house.”
the bartender lines up five identical drinks in front of zoro before marching away and zoro has to give it to the guy. he does make a good, stiff drink.
still, as he tries his hardest not to glance down towards where you’re sitting, sipping slowly at your martini, he can’t help overhearing the stilted stabs at conversation floating down the length of the empty bar. the bartender lavishes you with questions, asking about your travels, who you came with, where you’re from. you, for your part, never give him an answer more than three words long — travels were good, my crew, an autumn island.
zoro briefly wonders why you don’t tell the guy off like you so often did him. then, he briefly wonders if the fact that you’re always so easily set off by him means something. then, he not-so-briefly wonders why, if he’s always been so bothered by you, that he’s still thinking about you in the precious few hours he has to himself.
he clicks his tongue and downs another drink just as you finish your first.
“c’mon darlin’ — just a hint — what about the first letter? shall i try to guess?”
you sigh into your now empty glass as the bartender asks your name for the third time in a row, though to no avail. suddenly, a warm, solid presence appears next to you and the next thing you know, zoro’s arm is brushing up against yours as he leans over the bar to bear down at the bartender.
“right, now if you’re done trying t’pick up my girl, i think i’d like the check.”
the bartender blinks up at zoro, uncomprehending for a second before a blotchy redness seeps into his cheeks.
“y-your — you haven’t said a word to each other since either of you got here!”
you swallow passed a bewildered laugh as you glance up at zoro to find a challenge clear in his eyes. you slowly swivel back to the bartender with a light smile.
“ever heard of a lover’s quarrel?”
the bartender sputters as he stares between the pair of you for another long second before scurrying off to fetch the check. zoro chuckles under his breath, his earrings clinking softly in the dim light.
“damn — i really wanted another drink,” you say, staring at your empty glass.
wordlessly, zoro plops one of his in front of you. it’s the second to last.
you bring it up to your nose for a sniff before making a face.
“god that smells awful!”
“fine then, more for me.”
“i didn’t say i wouldn’t drink it!”
you bring the glass to your lips for a small sip. it’s tastier than you’d imagined but it still burns a line down your throat as you shiver.
“h-holy shit —” you cough, wiping at your mouth, “how many of these have you had?”
zoro shrugs, sipping on his own glass with a careless ease, “dunno. don’t really keep count.”
“ugh… this could knock out a war elephant…” you make another face before you take a second sip.
“figures you can’t hold your liquor, drinkin’ whatever girly shit you ordered.”
you round on him, “martinis are not girly!”
“tch. whatever.”
you settle into a huffy silence. zoro’s arm is still pressed against yours and neither of you makes to pull away. for a while, the only sounds in the bar are the soft clink of ice on glass and the light, liquid splashing of the ocean waves.
“why didn’t you tell him off?” zoro’s voice is quiet and when you turn to look at him, it’s to find him staring. you hold his gaze steady and don’t look away.
“why should i? he’s no one to me.”
“you don’t seem to have a problem yellin’ at me.”
you shrug, your eyes flickering back to the too-strong drink in your hand.
“i don’t tend to waste my breath on people i don’t really care about,” you say, your voice soft and careful and honest. zoro sucks in a slow breath, his mildly alcohol addled brain trying to process what you’d just said but his thoughts are interrupted by a peel of loud, raucous laughter echoing in from the dining room beyond.
“c’mon, sounds like dinner is served,” you say, grinning as you push off the bar, jerking your head towards the dining room door.
zoro lets out the breath before downing the rest of his drink and leaving the empty glass on the bar to follow you.
at dinner, you bicker less than usual and zoro is even more quiet than he normally is. though he wastes no time ordering another round for the table. no one really comments till zeff comes round at the end with the check.
“dinner’s already paid for but i was told that this is for the ‘lovebirds from the bar’,” he says, as he drops the drinks bill in front of zoro with a deadpan sort of look.
for a full ten seconds, no one moves. and then, usopp’s jaws hit the floor as sanji’s eyebrows jerk towards the ceiling. nami sits back with a satisfied smirk as luffy nods happily at the two of you before turning to grin at sanji.
“see? told you they get along fine!”
sanji has the decency to sputter just as usopp leans forward to point between you and zoro.
“wait… whaattt?”
you make to tug out your wallet but zoro slaps a stack of berry on top of the bill.
“give our compliments to the bartender,” he says with a slight smirk as zeff takes the money, glancing up at the two of you.
“yeah? what’d he make that’s got you so impressed?”
you purse your lips as you make a show of shrugging, waving a nonchalant hand through the air.
“oh, just a mean dirty martini.”
zeff lets out a loud bark of laughter as he takes the berry and clomps back towards the kitchens, shaking his head. zoro chuckles beside you as he stretches an arm over his head and lets it settle casually on the booth back behind you.
later, as everyone is making their way back towards the going merry, nami catches up to you on the docks, looping an arm through yours and pinning you with a meaningful look just as sanji sidles up to zoro and bumps him with a shoulder.
“so…” nami says, grinning as she tugs you forward a few steps.
“so.” sanji clears his throat, casting zoro a sidelong glance.
“wanna tell me what that was about?” nami asks.
“care to elaborate on that back there?” sanji questions.
you and zoro both take a deep, long breath. zoro glances up to see the way you toss a lock of hair over your shoulder, your bright laughter carrying back on the breeze. you allow yourself a smile, and you don’t have to turn to feel zoro’s eyes on you as both of you turn to your respective companions and say —
“i’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”
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opla!zoro reqs are (as always) open!!
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taetr4ck · 24 days
Text
and all these little things —
he who loves, dances upon the tapestry of stars. 
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skz!maknae line x reader, 1.8k words overall, no warnings — fluff, comfort. (continuation of this request.) taglist form
a/n : ouuu this marks the end of skz's princess treatment series :( i enjoyed making these sm. and also i might have overenjoyed myself writing seungmin's part... whoops
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jisung who peels your fruits —
He who always offers to peel your fruits – the simple gesture Jisung does shows that love can be unspoken. It’s a simple gesture, yet it speaks volumes. His love is pure, he is taking the time to take care of you.
“Ah, jagiya, let me do it,” Jisung says as he walks up to you in the kitchen, gently taking the orange from your hands. A declaration of love isn't always loaded with promises that can easily falter. Sometimes, love is about the little things that connect us. I love you can mean “You mean everything to me so I’m going to peel your oranges and remove the nasty white stuff off of it.” It can also mean “You know, I never really liked your favorite fruit, but your love for it changed my perspective. I started eating it too – it’s like my body was programmed to like the things you love. I can’t help but think of you when I eat them. Not because of the fruit itself, but because of the person who introduced me to its sweetness.” Love resides in these intricate details that complete the bigger picture together – love is a fragmented moment that you are supposed to piece together, alone, or with the person you chose to mend your love with. You chose to build the fragments with him, and any love he offers is yours to treasure.
If any, he will always choose to stand beside you, laughter permeating through the granite surface of the sleek kitchen counter – adorned with jars of spices and utensils, with a fruit in his hand – peeling his undying love for you. If the world were to end soon, he would want it to end at the kitchen counter, while you are laughing and he is smiling, sharing its last sweet bite before facing the twisted fate.
Through Jisung, you realize that love can be unspoken.
To love someone is firstly to confess,
'I’d always offer you a piece of my orange.'
felix who fixes your hair while you eat —
Felix cast a loving gaze at you from across the table of your favorite restaurant as you savored each bite of your meal – his focus completely on you. You caught his loving gaze, his eyes forming into crescents – and you swear his beauty can be one across the stars – his freckles akin to a constellation, sharing its beauty among the starry expanse of the universe. Without a word, he reached to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, his touch felt like a sacred prayer for which no words exist, and you can feel your heart taking over your body – as if you discovered something for which you don’t have a name for, his fingers gentle against your skin. The sudden touch seemed to startle you a bit, making the heat rush to your cheeks. He does this every time, unsure if you would ever get used to it.
He held your face between his palms, his eyes gazing at you lovingly – with a smile that seemed to belong to you completely gracing his lips. You never met someone like him before – where his touch felt like home, and his smile was the purest you had ever seen. It was as if he had found his sole reason to live, the sole reason to cherish the world he completely lived in. Since the first time he saw you, he swore his whole life belonged to you completely.
His actions carry an unspoken intimacy between you two. It's not just about tucking a stray hair; it's a gesture that speaks volumes about his attentiveness and the connection you share – like a devotion he swore to himself that he’s meant to love and cherish you. The warmth in his eyes matches the affectionate sweep of his fingers through your hair, creating a fleeting yet precious moment amidst the simple act of enjoying your favorite meal together. As long as you’re with Felix, you’ll always feel loved, cared for, and deeply understood – as if he has a unique ability to bring order to the disarray of both hair and the world around you.
seungmin who buys the same book —
The spontaneous trips to bookstores with Seungmin is always therapeutic. The paradise of books laid out in front of you makes your heart leap with excitement, your steps quickening as you scan the books with a carefree smile. The moment he sees that smile – how your face radiates amidst the calm atmosphere of the old bookstore in the middle of the night – he swears he sees stars in your eyes. He watches how your smile glistens when it tugs at your lips, followed by the crescents of your eyes – like the moon, perfectly mending the layout of your face, which is his universe. Your whole being is his universe. It feels like a dream to Seungmin. Is this what true love feels like? To see stars in the eyes of his universe? To see the moon within arm's reach?
That’s when he realizes he grabbed the same book you’re holding. You tilt your head in confusion, wondering why he grabbed the same piece.
“I want to read it with you,” he says, looking at you as if you’re iridescent. He isn’t sure how he will get used to this — you’re startlingly beautiful. He can’t look away.
He always reads the same book with you, attentively listening to your thoughts about the protagonist and their love interest. No matter how cliché the book may be, he's always here, eager to hear your every word. Your voice is a crafted melody to Seungmin, wrapping around him like a gentle embrace. He loves witnessing every part of you – the sudden squeal when you reach the story's climax, the random faces you make when you read a passage that catches your attention, and the faint “tsk” when a character does an idiotic thing. He loves seeing and hearing all of it. He loves you in the strongest way there is.
You are loved more than you can ever comprehend. You’re loved by him to the point his presence alone is like waking up to sunlight. He loves you so deeply to the point he’s willing to engrave your name on the palms of his hands. A declaration of faith, perhaps.
There was a time when Seungmin grabbed the wrong book from the bedroom shelf and was startled to see lots of annotations upon flipping through the pages. It was your favorite book, with annotations scribbled excitedly. It seemed like they were all written in the spur of the moment, without minding what words would formulate in the movement of your hand. He flipped to the last page of the book and saw a handwritten note – the penmanship of which he knew every stroke.
“In the past, I always wondered when my love story would unfold. I once dreamt that my greatest love would exist in this lifetime – until Seungmin came. That’s when I realized that perhaps my invisible string exists in this timeline, at this very moment. I am convinced that it’s him — it’s him I’m destined for. It’s him I’m bound to love. This is the truth. I have loved him in every universe. I will love him in every universe. I always look at him as if there were stars in his eyes, sparkling with no intention of stopping. I’ve never met someone like him before. When I'm lost in fear, I always feel sheltered in his presence. I guess this is what love looks like, to be fully seen by someone and be loved regardless, the unwavering bliss of being known and understood.”
Seungmin felt a pang in his chest. His heart was full of a catastrophic whirlwind of emotions – overwhelming love that may be unbearable. With each sentence, the growing pain in his heart started to intensify. It was as if every word on the page seared into his heart even more, leaving an indelible mark of devotion and love beyond comprehension. As he read the letter, the depth of tenderness grew – wrapping around his soul like a tight embrace that threatened to suffocate in its intensity. This must be the feeling of being loved and cherished to the point where its depths transcend the physical realm, leaving the heart forever changed in its wake. The tears welling in Seungmin’s eyes might be hard to suppress as he reads the last sentence of the letter.
“My love for him is woven into the fabric of the universe.”
jeongin who matches outfits with you —
“Ta-da!” Jeongin exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with delight as he showed off his outfit to you, a proud yet excited grin escaping his lips.
“Wow, you really put a lot of effort into your outfit today. Are you sure we’re just doing groceries today, baby?” you jest, looking at him with a smile. Jeongin has a habit of matching outfits with you whatever the occasion is — whether it is a spontaneous trip to the grocery, a shopping spree, a planned day out, or a formal event. Whatever it is, he always takes the time to make sure his style complements yours perfectly, just like how your hearts complement each other. There is a subtle joy in sharing a wardrobe aesthetic; it’s as if both of your style and loving hearts are interconnected as one.
Jeongin’s eyes would gleam whenever you emerged from your shared bedroom, all prepped up and ready. He would always approach you with a soft smile escaping his lips. He would then kiss your forehead — the spot where he tirelessly kisses as a way of expressing love or saying his goodbyes is called a temple; he loves kissing your temple. He is yours to worship and yours to love. Loving someone is such a pure thing to do; love is like a religion he had discovered on his own. Jeongin seeing you in a room felt like a sanctuary.
Jeongin is always ready, never forgetting the promise he made to himself to love you in all seasons. When times get cold and everything is a mess, he drapes his coat on your shoulders and he becomes your warmth – his love a comforting shield against the chill of uncertainty. Amid the chaos, his gesture offers solace, reminding you that you are not alone, and together you can weather any storm. When it gets too warm, he becomes your cooling breeze – his love like an ocean breeze at dawn, offering comfort and relief with his presence and touch – his caring gesture soothing your fiery heart. When it gets dark and shivers run down your spine, he holds your hand and never lets go, whispering assurance: You’re not alone. I got you, I got you.
On days when you didn't anticipate any matching at all, he'd surprise you with a knowing smile, revealing his outfit cutely matched with yours. It became a playful language between you and Jeongin, sharing laughter and giggles. His eyes would light up with satisfaction, almost melting to the thought that love could be expressed through the woven fibers of one’s clothing, the feeling of being seen by someone and being loved anyhow – submitting to the mortifying ordeal of being known. Don’t be afraid to be seen. Let me see you and love you regardless.
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taglist: @agi-ppangx @skzstarnet @straykidsland @bluethemoments
⋆ taetr4ck, est may 2023. / requests open
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ja3hwa · 5 months
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♡ 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐔𝐬, 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐎𝐮𝐫𝐬 ♡
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Day 31 : Trick Or Teat
【Synopsis】 : The dead of night, creatures hide. In the light of a fire, those same creatures can become more.
『Word count』 :  7.01k
-> Genre: Supernatural. Smut. Angst. Fluff.
Paring: Yungi x Reader | Seonghwa x Reader [Eventual ot8 x Reader] 
[Warnings] : Self hatred. Abusive family. toxic family. Cult-like religon. Myths and supernatural concepts. The reader is giving off Genderfluid in some parts [not me projecting whoops]. hints of sexual abuse. Blood. Gore. Dark themes. Blood drinking. Kissing. Swearing. All the boys have a corruption kink cause why not. Fingering. Seonghw has a bit of a superiority complex. Details of torture and killing people. Unprotected sex. Yunho and Mingi are little shits. Eheh
HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Surprise!! This is the very first chapter and introduction to my new mini series I'll be writing. I know a lot of you have been wanting Vampire Ateez ot8x reader for a while, and I've been trying to find a good story, and i finally got one, hehe. Also, I wanted to make this fic extra long as well to say thank you for 4k followers. I still want to do an event, but I'm taking a little break first, so I hope this is okay for now.
I LOVE YOU ALL ♡♡♡
Check out the mini series masterlist -> [coming soon]
Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List | Part Two
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The Destiny Castle was filled with darkness and death. Guard dogs, the size of cows and strange beastly noises echoing in the forest surrounding. And warnings to anyone that enters the ground will never be seen again. Well, that's what the priest of your village says over time and time again. Blabbering about how god left the family that lived in the castle many centuries ago when they invited night-crawling creatures inside. Ones that drink blood and care little for the human race.
Vampires.
You sighed under your breath for the fifth or sixth time this evening as the sermon read on the large dusted book in front of him. Your hands were beginning to ache from having them clasped together for so long. Why were you even praying? It's not like you believe any of this bullshit. Yes, granted, some of it might sound true, and you had doubts on multiple occasions whether this man in the sky was, in fact, real or not. But did you really want to stick around and find out? When you die and you go to hell, so be it. You weren't scared of where you ended up. You were more scared of wasting your life away. Not finding the adventure you so desperately craved. But your picture-perfect parents with their picture-perfect kids shall have no such dreams. No such idea of living other than to tend to the market stall and be married to yet another picture-perfect family.
You felt your mother's god-awful stare as she clearly heard you sigh yet again. You hated her the most. Always finding new and improved ways to punish you for "your sins." Like rolling your eyes or talking back to a man. Or worse, not showing any signs of being a good future housewife so when she's finally ready to sell you off—oh I'm sorry, give you away—to some rich Christian suitor to be your husband. You could be the perfect version of yourself for her.
Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.
You hated that fucking word. A loud bell chime caught your attention, signalling that Sept was finished with his blabberings for the evening. So you stood up straight, your annoyingly over-layered dress before turning on your heels to leave.
"Oh wait, Dove. Come here, please." Your mother's overfaked and sugary sweet tone rattled in your ears. The use of the nickname Dove also annoyed you. Dove, meaning white pure bird that is trapped in a golden cage. Everyone had called you that since you were born, most people in the village not even knowing your real name, only know this nickname.
Why, you may ask?
Simple, your mother hated your name. You were named after your father's mother, who she hated. But it was tradition to name your firstborn after the father's mother, so here you were. Not only were you a disappointment to your mother, but you also bore a name that resembles hatred. Lucky you.
"This is Lucas Wheeler. He's Mary and Robert's Eldest son." Your mother's voice buttered up the introduction, leaning in with an absolutely disturbingly fake smile that everyone seemed to fall for. You turned your lip slightly, making a poor attempt to smile, which your mother did not approve of. "Luca, darling, this is my daughter."
His grin was wide and overexaggerated. His tunic was buttoned all the way up to his Adams apple, looking as if it was constricting his airflow. And his hair was perfectly brushed back. He was the definition of a good pure religious boy. A book nerd. You couldn't hide your disgust as he licked his lips, eyeing you like some piece of flesh. You knew what he was hiding. That filthy lust that men seemed to only be forgiven for. He has probably dreamed about shoving his cock in every woman that passes him and he was definitely only thinking about his needs while staring at you. Not marriage, not husband duty. No, the sole idea of finally getting his little dick wet was driving him crazy. And it made you want to chuck your guts up all over his clean shoes.
"You seem to have such a um, polite daughter here, Christine. She seems shy?" Lucas's mother, Mary spoke up trying to take a look at you but you kept your face pointed to the ground. You didn’t want to be there and you weren't about to fake a smile for a family you did not need to know. you wanted nothing more than to slip away and become invisible like you always did in these types of situations. But turning twenty has now made you in the public eye. Twenty and without a husband was rare. Normally women in your village were betrothed at sixteen and married at eighteen. But you have managed to wheezle your way out of it from your parents being too worried about your younger sisters. But you’ll be twenty-one soon and your mother, Christine was becoming impatient.
“She is a shy one. Sweet too. Micheal and I have been trying to find the perfect man for her, but her shyness seems to not be a lucky charm.” Your mother battered, throwing a sweet chuckle making Lucas’s parents laugh.
“Well, how about you both come over? Bring all your kids, for dinner. I’m sure my Luca would love to get to know her.” Mary pinched Lucas’s cheek making him push away slightly.
“Yes. I’d love to know more about your daughter. I’m sure we will be able to entertain one another while you get dinner ready.” his dark words made your stomach turn and flip. Now you were definitely going to be sick.
“It’s settled then. We will see you at sundown.” Your mother bid goodbye tugging you away by your arm out of the church, not letting you go for a second. Knowing you’d just run off the first chance you got.
-
Night came quicker than you would have liked and no matter how hard to tried to slip away your mother made sure that one of your sisters was always with you, ready to shout if you tried to bail. What was this some type of house imprisonment? You didn’t want to go, that was more than clear. But your mother couldn’t care less and your father well it was ‘whatever mother says goes’. so you were alone in the more honest terms. Your brothers were too young to know any different, your sister who is only two years younger than you was a cutout of your mother. And your little sister was daddy's little girl. She didn’t care about anything but her daddy.
What a perfect family you seem to have. Everyone fitted in somewhere but you. You were the experiment. The first batch of cookies to come out of the oven that no one touches cause they were too burned or not fully cooked.
“Come on we are going to be late.” Your mother's voice rang through the house, your sister's eyes not leaving you. She had muttered something before heading for the door. You had told her you just needed to put on some garments before meeting her downstairs. She was hesitant for a moment thinking this was a plan to escape but you had said that there was no time now and what would be the point. Sensing your defeat she left you alone. Finally.
You pull on some pants under your dress, hating having to wear such feminine clothing. It wasn’t that you were against wearing dresses or lace or even frills. It was more that sometimes you wanted pants. Was that so bad? You sighed putting all the clothes your sister had pulled out for you to try on, on the end of your bed. That was later you’s problem. You noticed your book laying on your pillow making you swear under your breath. Tucking it back under the sheets you wonder if your sister saw it. You hopped not, if she saw what you wrote or worse what you drew, she’d be telling the church to burn you at the stake.
You ran down the stairs quickly, not wanting to waste any more time, hoping that if you go over and get this night over with you can come back home and hide away in your room, wishing you were anywhere other than with this family.
-
This night seemed okay as far as talking about our lord and saviour over supper was. Mary was busy finishing up the final dish, letting Lucas and your parents laugh over a blessed bottle of wine. They had sent you and Lucas away to, get to know one another and Lucas had to perfect idea to show you his barn. A place where ‘he could be himself’. God, everything he says annoys you. Climbing the old rusty ladder, you stand in an empty hay loft. Your gut felt strange, like your body was warning you of something but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Until you felt a hand grip your shoulder softly but tight enough to make you freeze.
His breath was so close, pooling on your neck. fingers were ghosting along your corset strings making tears build in your eyes. Even though he was a little boy in your mind. He was much bigger than you and he could easily take advantage of you if you didn’t play your cards right. So you had to act. “And what might we get up to here hmm…”
His chuckle sickened you. “Well, we have some time before mother calls. So I thought we get to know each other. Just like our families wanted.” he pulled away, making a grunting sound behind you. You turned slowly to see he was sitting on a blanket that had been laid out on some hay. Was this disgusting excuse of a man really thinking he could charm you into sleeping with him? God, his ego was bigger than you thought. You giggled, waltzing around the small room pretending to think but in truth, you were looking for an exit. You could go down the ladder but he’d probably grab you before getting that low. Maybe over the side onto the beams. He won't be able to get to you then. But then you’d be trapped until you eventually have to climb back over. And you know he’s the type to wait you out.
A window. Probably leads onto the roof. Not practical but if you recall you did see a bunch of hay bails just outside so if you jump you’d be able to land on them. And a broken ankle or wrist was better than….”Where is your mind wondering, baby? Do I scare you?”
Your head snaps back to him, giving him a small smile. “Oh, no…no…” You step closer, looking him deep in his eyes. “you don’t scare me…baby…” You stood right above his laying figure, his legs spread, enough for you to place a foot in between them. A grim smirk painted his unpleasant features. he went to sit up and you used this as your now or never, kicking him right in the balls without another thought. His groan was loud, knowing if it weren't for how far you were from the house. Everyone would have heard.
“You little bitch!” You ran for the window, crawling out as quickly as you could. The top of your dress got caught on a nail ripping the fabric. But you didn’t waste any time to cry about broken material, looking for the hay bails. It wasn’t as high of a jump as you thought, sliding down the straw, making some of it get caught in your dress. You could hear Lucas groaning in the distance as you started to run. Run fast and run far.
You needed to go home. Quickest route is through the forestry back towards the centre of the village before turning off from the church. Jump Mr Smith's fence and climb the vines into your room. Simple enough. But it's dark, a little too dark and all you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears and rabid footsteps in the distance. The forest was thick. Trees tightly snug together. You almost tripped several times over branches and roots. Your heart was racing now, panting as your mind was becoming hazy. Need to get home. Need to get home.
“Ohhhh Little Dove, where are you.” Lucas’s deep sinister voice echoed through the dark forest. He was too close, you needed to stop. Hide. Maybe he’d go past you or head back. “Come out, baby. We were just having some fun.”
Quiet. Be silent. don’t move. Not a mucsle.
He called your name this time your real one making you gulp. His voice was maybe two or three trees away from where you stood. A twig snaps and you feel tears in the corners of your eyes. He was so close it was like you could still feel his breath. “Come on princess...” His hand wrapped the tree you were standing against and everything stopped. You closed your eyes thinking for a moment, trying to play thousands of scenarios of how you could get away. But nothing would work. He caught you. He danced the bend, slipping right into your view. Before you could run his hand gripped your throat making you freeze. “Don’t worry baby. I don’t bite.”
His words were short... sinister, like he had achieved his ultimate goal of capturing his prey. Your eyes widened going to spit back a comment but your words caught in your throat as you saw a figure suddenly appear behind Lucas. Tall, dark. Red eyes glowing through the night. Everything happened so quickly, the beast grasped Lucas the same way he had you, pulling him back with fright. “But I do…”
The creature's fangs pierced the disgusting man's neck making him scream out a noise that would make your blood curdle. His grip dropped from you, trying to scratch and fight off the larger figure. You took this moment to run, not even caring if the creature was going to kill him or not. All you knew was you needed to run. But you couldn’t run home anymore. There’s blood on your hands literally, Lucas’s blood splattered on you. If this wasn’t a perfect situation the priest was looking for to burn you at the stake you don’t know what is. “Hey, this way.”
You physically jump hearing a high-pitched voice cooe at you through the wind. It was a hooded figure, and normally you would of not gone with a stranger but in this case it seemed fair. You followed the person who seemed to be always a few steps ahead of you at all times no matter how hard you tried to catch up. It was only then, when you stopped focusing on the person to look around you noticed they were leading you to the castle grounds. Where myth reads vampires inhabit. That must have been what got Lucas.
A blood sucking vampire.
You stopped in your tracks not knowing to go back or forward. It’s not like vampires scared you per se. It was just. You were human and they are beasts. They would certainly eat you before you could plead your case. But one of them saved you right? That’s what it was doing? Not just finding two humans and deciding to have a late-night snack right….
“Hey over here.” The figure called for you again but when you looked up everything suddenly went black.
-
Your head was ringing. Heartbeat thumping slowly in your ears. Black splotches clouded your vision as you tried to look around. You were in a room. A Billiard room, to be exact. You have never seen a room of such a size. The bottom of your house most definitely fitting in this room alone. The leather under your fingers felt expensive, seeing the brown with bubbled texture. It was lavish, elegant—
"Beautiful, isn't it." A smooth voice swayed your attention, having caught you admiring the fine fabrics of the furniture. Your eyes locked with deep crimson ones. He was like nothing you've ever seen before. He was stunning, tall, and broad. You had to gulp at the sheer beauty of the man. But you knew he wasn't just a man. From his eyes, you knew he was a beast, a night crawler.
"Are you going to respond? Or are you more of a staring type?" Another voice scared you slightly. Looking to your left, you see another man, but he was sitting on the couch next to you. His black undercut fitted his features perfectly. He kind of sounded like the hooded figure that was helping you get away before...
"Definitely the quiet, staring type." A cheeky tone to your right. He was leaning on the pool table, his Cheshire cat grin painting his features smugly.
So there's three of them that live here?
"Now now, Woo, San. She's probably just scared." A shorter but beefier male suddenly stood next to the first one that spoke. He wasn't even looking at you, mostly paying attention to the two he called Woo and San. You were now sitting straight up, moving your gaze from each of them. As they were all in their own worlds arguing about why you might not be talking.
"You're bleeding, Tiny?" A voice growled behind you, startling you. You turned to see two very big men standing behind the couch. "When did you cut yourself?" He dragged his two fingers through your wound, making you hiss, pulling away from him.
He put one of his fingers in his mouth, closing his eyes as if he were savouring the taste. Once he was done, he placed his other bloody finger in the male next to him, mouth. The other man groaned his eyes, glowing a harsher red as he stared you down. "You taste delicious, Sugar."
You went to stand, trying to get away from them, but your legs gave out, making you fall forward in front of the high-pitched boy who still sat on the other couch. "Be careful, Dollface. Don’t want ya gettin hurt."
"Okay, let's give her some space. Wooyoung, take San down to the kitchens and see if dinner is ready yet. Mingi and Yunho can go set the table." The one that stood at the door, the first man directed all the men with ease. They will followed without another word, heading for the door. "And for the love of Lillith, Jongho, can you please find your lover and Hongjoong. I think they were still cleaning up from..." He looked at you briefly. "Dealing with that disgusting human."
You knew he was talking about Lucas, and that meant this Lover boy or Hongjoong had been the one you saw ripping through Lucas's neck. They all left soon after, leaving you alone with the dominant man. You managed to sit back on the couch, but you wanted, needed to stand. So you tried your luck again, and your knees buckled, making you slip forward, but instead of making an impact with the ground, two large arms were wrapped around your waist. Your hands gripped the creature's biceps, feeling his muscles taught and tense. "You do need to be careful, Darling."
Unlike Lucas's or any man, you've ever met really. These creatures don't seem to set off any of your alarms. You didn’t know if that was a bad thing or not, but you chose to brush it off, ‘cause in the end, you had never felt such kindness from anyone in the village. You were out-casted, unloved. You might as well be the witch they all wanted you to be. The kind smile that painted his features made your heart skip. He was indeed handsome. You finally spoke up saying who you were and the man looked at you with surprise before laughing. “Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Seonghwa. It’s nice to meet you…”
Your name rolled off his tongue so beautifully. No one had ever used it to address you before. It was almost strange, foreign even. “Honestly you could call me anything. I was never called that name sadly.”
Seonghwa hummed in response, still holding tight on you. In truth, he knows much more about you than he leads on. When he and the others go on hunts he had found you a year ago. Ironically you were having your nineteenth birthday. On your own of course. He remembers the way you spoke to yourself, wishing yourself a happy birthday while you drew in your book. Your feet were in the cool water of the watering hole in the forestry just outside the village. You went there almost every second day. And so did he.
There was something about you that caught his eye. Caught all of the boy's eyes. You were special but none of them could put their finger on it. So of course when they found you running for your life from a disgusting man. They couldn’t stand by and let anything happen to their precious little human.
-
Dinner was quick as you just sat there and ate in silence. The others were loud though, making it seem almost normal. Like everything that was happening was something you all were used to already. Seonghwa had told you about all the boys and what all their names were. It took you a moment to put names to faces but once you got it. It was easy. Seonghwa never left your side. Making sure you were safe and comfortable. You appreciated it, understanding it must have been weird to have a human walking around. But you quickly learnt that all the maids and butlers were human. They got paid and some even lived on the estate.
Everything the village said about vampires and creatures in general was so wrong. And secretly you always wanted it to be wrong. So you were glad they weren't purely just bloodsucking beasts. But every now and then that face you saw popped into your head. You still didn’t know which one killed Lucas. And on top of it, this Hongjoong and Yeosang—Seonghwa had told you his name—were nowhere to be found.
“Okay well, sun will be up soon. Let’s get ready for bed.” Seonghwa again spoke up, dying down the chatter. It was like he took on a motherly role in the house. It was cute.
“Come Sugarcube. Yunho and I will show you to your room.” The one named Mingi flashed you a smile making you smile in response. Bidding Seonghwa goodnight or would It be morning now? Mental note to look out for a clock. The halls were lavish and carpeted, matching all the rooms you’ve seen thus far. Everything was perfect, vintage and beautiful. Yunho and Mingi had caught onto your mind wandering and had stopped for a moment, seeing how far you’d walk without them near you. You were very cute to them. Like a clueless bunny, with wide innocent eyes.
“Hey, Tiny. Your room is over here.” Yunho’s far voice snapped you out of your thoughts making you turn around to see both large men. Their arms crossed, with big grins. Your face was redder than a tomato in seconds making them both groan at how you waddle back quickly. Cute. Too cute. “This is where you’ll be saying. We’ll try and get some of your personal things tomorrow.”
“Yeah, Hongjoong had said something about grabbing some stuff while your family are out tomorrow.” Mingi rubbed the back of his neck as you slipped past both men to look into the huge spacious room. Only hours ago you were about to be married off to some pig and live on his farm until your death to now staying with not one but eight vampires.
And what was worse. You couldn’t go back. Not that you’d want to that is. But still, all your life you’ve known one thing and now… “You okay Tiny? Not the style you like? We have like ten other rooms if you want to-No it’s okay it’s just…” You cut Yunho off before taking a seat on the olive green and black silk sheets that lay on the large king bed.
“Did…Did Lucas die?” You don’t understand why you were asking about that pig but you needed to know. You needed to know would your parents found his mangled body and thought the beast that did that also killed you. Or would they think you did it? Yunho sat on his knees in front of you, placing his large hands on your thighs in a comforting manner. His smile was soft and his fingers grazing on your exposed skin was gentle.
“No. Yeosang left him alive. But he won't be wanting to live with the way he looks now.” You don’t know if Yunho’s words made you feel better or worse.
“Hongjoong helped him drag him back to that barn. His parents found him and they are looking for you at the moment.” Mingi revealed, knowing you’ll just keep asking questions so there was no reason to hide anything from you.
“Do my parents think I’m dead?” Deep down you knew they’d be happy either way. Dead, alive. Murderer or innocent. Your family would plead their sob story about the monster you were regardless of the truth.
“No…Lucas told them you ran. They think you were a part of it. Luring him out there for your vampire lover to have a meal.” Yunho felt disgusted with himself for repeating what Hongjoong had told them your parents said. But what else should they do?
“Vampire lover….hmm.” You smiled, starting to laugh. That’s what they probably thought you were sneaking off to at random hours of the day or night. Both of the men looked at one another with confusion, letting Mingi sit down next to you.
“Something funny with that Sugarcube?” Mingi’s voice was so deep, velvety. It made your core tingle and heart race. You looked up at him with tears in your eyes, but still giving him a smile.
“My mother has wanted nothing but to pin some devilish thing on me and now she gets it. Something that said I did not serve the lord. Argh…” Tears ran down your cheeks “Fuck the lord. Why should I have to care what an old man did for humanity?! I just wanted to paint. Find adventure. Not marry and be a baby maker for some lowlife pig.” All your pent-up anger. All your disappointment. Every single thing you wished to say to your mother was pouring out, in front of two vampires you had only met hours ago now. It felt like a weight being pushed off your chest and you were no longer drowning. Mingi’s hand rubbed circles on your lower back making you fall into his embrace, letting him hold you while Yunho straightened up so he could hold you as well. They were beasts that could drain you in seconds yet they held you like they’ve known you for years. They listened as if they cared. They spoke as if you were the most important person in the world. why?
“There, there baby. It’s okay. You’re free now. You can do anything you want.” Yunho’s voice was quiet almost barely above a whisper. But still still heard him. You pulled away letting them still hold you but you could wipe your face. You can do anything? No one has ever said that to you.
“Well...I guess since this my first time of freedom…” You had both the vampire's attention now with your words. “I want a bath. One with lots of bubbles.” You’ve never had such a thing in your life only settling for quick showers or sharing bathing pools with your siblings. Not something lavish. Mingi laughed a deep hearty laugh. As if you couldn't get any more cute, there you went.
“I think that’s a perfect idea Sugar. We’ll get one of the maids to fix one up for you. And…” He placed his hands on either shoulder pushing you towards Yunho. Your face inches from him. Mingi inspected the wound of your shoulder blade noticing it was already closing but blood was still pooling out of it slowly. “Get this wound cleaned up…”
His tongue licked a strip upwards, following the wound. You hiccuped feeling a slight sting from him. Yunho however distracted you by giving you a kiss. Your eyes were wide and confused. He… he was kissing you. His soft lips moved slowly against yours. His tongue dipped around your bottom lip, testing the waters. Perfectly distracting you from Mingi cleaning your cut with his mouth. Your blood tasted unlike anything he had ever tasted before.
“You taste amazing… fuck.” Mingi mumbled against you while Yunho’s tongue slipped into your mouth as you groaned. Your mind was spinning like crazy, your hand finding place on Yunho biceps, digging your nails in his cold flesh.
“Y…Yuyu..” You tried to speak, finally making both men pull away, leaving you to gasp for air.
“Sorry tiny. Your lips were just too kissable not to.” Yunho chuckled licking his lips of the saliva you left behind on them. Your heart was pounding, feeling such excitement but also a tinge of fear…
“Tha… that was my first kiss..” You felt embarrassed to say so but you felt compelled to tell them. Which made both of them growl. Mingi’s fingers wrapped in your tattered dress hem while Yunho rubbed his hand over his face.
“Fuck. I was your first kiss baby?” Yunho felt so proud of himself.
“Damn Yunho the others aren't gonna be happy when they find out,” Mingi spoke as if you were no longer there.
“Wait why would the others care?” You suddenly felt small, seeing hunger in both their eyes. You had no idea what these men were planning, nor what they all wanted from you. It frightened you. But not as much as it excited you.
-
The bath was filled with bubbles, vanilla scent soap and soft music from a vinyl. You could have stayed in there for hours but when one of the maids came in to help you dress your wound you knew it was time to get out. The nice maid named Minnie had brought you some sleepwear, soft silk sleep shorts and a singlet. You have never felt such soft fabric before always getting hand-me-downs or second/third hand clothing.
“You look cute.” A gentle voice echoed from the door of your room. You hummed, blush burning your cheeks. Turning you see Seonghwa leaning against the door frame, bottom lip between his teeth as he eyed you, not even trying to hide that he was checking you out.
“Thanks…” You played with your fingers, standing there awkwardly as you watched Seonghwa close the door, slowly moving towards you. Like he was stalking you. No doubt Yunho and Mingi had run off bragging what they had done when you were busy bathing. God, if this was going to become a new normal you were going to develop a headache from your head spinning.
“I wanted to check on you.” For every step he took, you took one back, like a little dance until your back was firmly against the wall and his body almost flushed against you. “I heard Min and Yun had some fun with you.”
“I-..Yunho kissed me…Mingi he uh…” You felt so flustered, fanatically looking around the room feeling embarrassed about spilling what you had done even though you knew the two giants would have told everyone by now. He put his fingers on your chin, running his thumb along your bottom lip, pulling on it slightly.
“I was kinda hoping to be the first to taste you. But then again, none of the boys tend to listen.” His eyes were hooded, looking at you with such hunger. He could feel your heart race against the pad of his thumb. He can hear your blood pumping quicker than normal. And your eyes never left his. His face inched closer, and then some. Seeing just how close he could get to you before you’d pull away but you didn’t, not even flinch. “Have you done anything like this before?”
You shook your head no slightly. “Have you ever touched yourself, Bunny?” his question made your face become redder. This was filthy, dirty, something you were supposed to be sworn away. And man did defying god feel intoxicating. You whispered no, making him close his eyes with a sigh for a moment. So innocent, so cute… So his to taint. “Do you want me to touch you, Bunny?”
“Yes…” You whisper… He tucked a piece of damp hair behind your ear making you shiver as his fingers grazed your skin. His cold tips slide along your cheek, down to your neck, before pushing gently on your man artery feeling your hot blood pump under his digits.
“I could drain you dry right now. Or fuck you full? Maybe both? Hmm?” His lips brushed against yours but not enough to seal his lips on yours. No, he wanted you to do it, he needed you to do the first move. So he knows you do in fact want it. And you gave him exactly what he wanted, leaning up to lock your lips to his. His one hand cupped your face to deepen the kiss while his other, snaked down to play with the hem of your shorts. Your legs spread instinctively, giving him access to do whatever he pleases. His wet tongue danced with you making you feel all kinds of filthy.
You had almost gotten a man killed, ran away from home. Most likely been shunned for life from your village and on top of that kissed two men that both happened to be undead creatures you only just met, while another drank from one of your open wounds. If was indeed sins, you might as well be sent down to Lillith herself on a golden platter.
“Come on Bunny, let’s get you comfortable.” He pulled away picking you up by your thighs before walking over to your bed and laying you down on the plump mattress. His lips trail down your cheeks, then your jaw until he stops at your neck for a moment rubbing his nose along your jugular. “God I can smell your blood through your soft skin.” he sighs, drawing his fangs out.
“H-Hwa p-please…” You bucked your hips against his hardening length, spreading your legs further so he could get closer if that was possible. He chuckled, darkly. Fang pressing just hard enough to pierce your skin a little bit so a few drops of blood would spill out. He licked your blood up, trying not to get any on the bed sheets. Your whimpers were music to his ears, and your taste was heavenly. Now he’s wondering how else you taste in other places. “Fuuckk.”
The feeling of his fangs and the was his fingers play with your short made your head cloudy. His hand slipped into your shorts cupping your core making you suddenly aware what was happening. His mouth finally left your neck, kissing down the exposed parts of your chest. He was worshiping every part of your body sending your skin on fire. “Such a pretty bunny. I can feel heat pooling out of you. Do you find my devilish charms that intoxicating bunny?”
You squirmed, needed more. His index finger slide along your slit making your mouth open into an ‘o’ shape. Your eyes shut tightly, finally feeling some kind of relief that you were searching for. The pleasure was new, and strange, making you feel like you were in a whole another world. Seonghwa kept whispering sweet nothings to you as he slowly pushes a finger inside your drenched cunt. It was steady at first until he found a rhythm, inching yet another finger inside making your brows knot together. His name fell from your lips on repeat like some kind of broken vinyl, he knew he could get you close to your high without much effort given you have never felt such a feeling before. And with only a few more moments you were clenching around his digits, coming underdone while he stared at you intensely, watching every one of your features move and contort in the pure ecstasy he was gifting you. “Did that feel good baby? I can make you feel even better, all you got to do is say yes.”
“Yes, please Seonghwa. Please. Make me feel like that again. I wanna feel good.” You don’t know why your mouth started spilling such filth but you couldn’t care, not when you were so close to feeling a pleasure you have only wondered about in those lewd novels Miss Smith had down the path. She had let you borrow one and it had changed your life forever. Seonghwa got to work, pulling your shirt off above your head and tugging down the rest until it slipped off your ankles in one swoop of his wrists. You were completely bare for him. He could see all the sun-kissed spots. All the scars, and beauty marks. He could see the bruises of a handprint on your collarbone and other smaller ones littering your legs and arms.
Pathetic human. Digusting pig.
Fuck, does he wish that Yeosang and Hongjoong hadn’t kept him alive now. But then again giving him a swift death would have been too merciful. No, Seonghwa would want to keep Lucas in a cell, locked away for weeks. No food, barely any water. Watching him starve. Watch him beg for death. But Seonghwa would never give it to him. Lucas would welter away in the dungeon, cold, scared, and alone. Just as you felt when you were being chased by him. Just as you felt when he had put his hands on you. Seonghwa would make him pay.
“H-Hwa…” You sat on your elbows having seen the vampire's mind wander. Was he okay? Was he second-guessing his actions? Seonghwa was quick to disregard any of your fears as he shed himself off his shirt, before sliding off the bed to pull his pants down. They dropped to the floor with an audible ‘oof’. You didn't mean for your eyes to immediately gaze down at his fully grown erection but its angry red tip had caught your attention. Seonghwa didn’t mind one bit though, he admired your body in the meantime, letting you get a good look at him while he did the same to you. “That can’t fit inside me….”
Seonghwa laughed, physically laughed at your abrupt statement. “Oh don’t worry. It will.”  he yanked one of your legs making you gasp. He stood tall at the end of your bed, letting you wrap your legs around his waist. He rubbed the tip of his cock along your slit, gathering up some of your cum to use as lubricant. The whole time his eyes never left yours. He wanted to see the pleasure pooling in your eyes when he entered you inch by inch. And as you bit your bottom lip, you tried your damned hardest to keep your gaze open. “That’s it, baby. Breath…”
The stretch was painful, to say the least. Even though Seonghwa had used his fingers on you, it still wasn’t enough to fully prep you for his girth. He rubbed circles in your hips, trying to settle the pain as much as he could, noticing your fingers had entangled in the silk sheets, with your knuckles turning lightly white.
“Ffuckk, hngmm Seong.” you mumbled, finally feeling him enter you fully, his groin flush against you. He stayed still for a moment, letting you catch your breath but man was it hard. The way you clamped around him, sucked him in for more. It made him want nothing more than to pound the living shit out of you. But patience. He needed patience. And luckily out of all the boys, he owned the most patience.
“Can I move Darling?” His words were a stutter, laying with groans and sighs. You nodded your head before responding with a quick and quiet ‘please’ letting him draw his cock until only the tip was inside you then smashing back in, knocking the wind out of you. You could no longer hold yourself up, falling onto your back. Seonghwa watched as your breasts bounced in time with his thrusts and how your thighs were clamped snugly around him. You felt amazing, looked eternal. And you were finally his.
He dreamed about what your cunt might feel like wrapped around his cock. Or how might your blood taste when you are in the middle of being fucked. Firty thoughts had always seemed to riddle his mind whenever he saw you and now he could finally get the answers. But one thing is for sure. He has no idea how he is possibly going to share you with the others. When he is going to be craving you permanently.
-♥︎
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