#altar boy leon forever!

[porcelainseashore]

GAAAAHHHH!! Thanks so much lovely! ❤️❤️❤️ Ngl crushes on altar boys were really what I grew up with as an ex-Catholic (mum would be proud lol). So imagining how Leon would be one was just the next step 🤣 I was a little nervous with the religious imagery, because it was like playing a balancing game between humour and Catholic guilt which is very real, but I'm relieved I pulled it off.

Omg, are you talking about that hydra video? 😋🤭 If it hasn't been done already, someone needs to write an alternate version of how that went down between Leon and Ashley!

Heavenly Creatures

Pairing: Altar Boy! Leon Kennedy x Catholic School Girl! Reader

Summary: Growing up in a conservative, Catholic community, you and Leon were kept apart as kids for your own good. However, a fateful encounter at church many years later causes you to question those boundaries.

Content & Warnings: Smut, porn with plot, unprotected p in v, oral (m & f receiving), rimming (f receiving), semi-public sex (church), Catholicism, religious imagery & symbolism, temptation, guilt, shaming, name-calling, growing up, smoking, swearing, romance, fluff, secret relationship.

Authors' Note: Leon and Reader are in senior high and 18 when smut happens. No guarantee that you won’t burn in hell after reading this 🔥😂

Special thanks to AliBelleRosetta for being my sounding board + shadesoflsk & Cameron for your helpful feedback.

AO3 Link

Snake. Devil. Satan’s spawn.

Those were the names you had grown accustomed to as a child. You didn’t know why you were called them, instead of the one your parents had given you. You were too little to understand. All you knew was that you were made to feel different. Maybe you were really an anomaly from the rest after all.

Instead of being quiet and shy, you were loud and boisterous. It was natural for you, seeing as you were going through your tomboy phase, which was the exact reason your parents had stuck to when they received complaints about your behavior. They laughed it off, while others reigned their daughters in, forcing them into perfect Sunday dresses, braided hair adorned with pastel ribbons and clean, black Mary Jane shoes. Good enough to fit into a pretty gift box with wrapping paper. But you would tear it all down, before anyone could lay a finger on you.

Growing up in a place where other children were told to shun you was difficult at first. But then, you learnt to play by yourself and relish in the power of make believe. You climbed trees, rolled in the mud and ran through the forest fending off imaginary monsters. Sometimes, when you bumped into other groups of boys who threw stones and made fun of you, you fought back, further earning the title of crazy witch! Who needed these idiots anyway? You were your own best company.

One day, you sat in your disheveled, cream cotton dress, swinging your legs from a tree in your front lawn as usual. It overlooked the suburban neighborhood street, giving you a bird’s eye view of your surroundings. You noticed a family of three strolling along the sidewalk, though the couple gave you a disapproving look as they walked past, and whispered to their little, adolescent boy. They thought they were being so discreet, but you could hear every single word they were saying.

“Don’t pay attention to her. She’s bad news.”

Regardless of this remark, the boy gave in to his curiosity and as he peered up, you held his wide-eyed gaze. His irises were azure in color, glowing as it caught the early dusk light from different angles, shifting across a stunning spectrum of bluish, iridescent hues. You were captivated by them, and as you continued staring, his cheeks turned rosy red, though it seemed like he could not break away from you either. That moment was abruptly cut short, as his father smacked the back of his head, chiding his son for disobeying him.

“Come along now, Leon.” The older man wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders, turning him away from your direction.

Leon. So, that was his name. As you watched them turn the corner at the end of the street and head off, you wondered if and when you’d see him again.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Leon had heard the stories passed around about you. His parents had often commented about your family as being one of those ‘weird, hippy types’. Frankly, this didn’t scare him, but rather, it fascinated him. They made you appear like something he had read in a book about myths and legends, and he wanted to see if it was real.

The next time he went out to play in the field, he walked by your place again on purpose, even though it would have been the longer route. As he had predicted, you were up in the tree again, lounging across its branches with your eyes closed, like a slithery snake basking in the sun. Your dress was stained with grass and dirt, and your feet were soiled and filthy. Twigs poked out haphazardly from your knotted, messy hair. 

You looked like a creature of sorts, alright, he thought.

He inched towards the base of the tree trunk gingerly, trying not to stir the sleeping beast. But as he got closer, he accidentally stepped into a pile of dead leaves, which crunched underfoot. 

You roused from your slumber then, rubbing your eyes as you stretched your arms out with a lazy yawn. He flinched when you looked downwards at him, as if you might strike out, but you just smiled and said, “Hi.”

He was confused then. From the descriptions of you, he had expected you to breathe fire and gnash your teeth at him fiercely, but you were just a normal girl. He gave you a puzzled look, nodding as he greeted you with a stutter, “Hi… I-I’m, uh, Leon.”

“I know.” You grinned.

“You do?” He looked astounded, as if you’d conducted some dark ritual to find out.

You picked up on this and teased him, wiggling your fingers as you mouthed, “Magic…”

He laughed, relaxing his stiff shoulders and asking you for your name. He’d only known you until now as that girl, or one of those nicknames people gave you out of spite.

You introduced yourself and offered him a half-eaten apple you had munched on before napping on the tree. He hesitated at first, regarding it as if it were a forbidden fruit, but eventually he reached out for it. Gratefully, he bit in, savoring the flavorful burst of its juicy flesh.

“Do you go to church?” He asked suddenly, out of the blue.

Shielding your eyes from the afternoon sun with your hand, you squinted at him. “Yeah, why?”

“Oh.” He paused, considering his next words, though he blurted out with unfiltered honesty, “Well, my dad said that demons can’t enter hallowed ground.”

“I’m not a demon,” you huffed indignantly.

“No, you aren’t,” he agreed, waving his hands in the air apologetically, trying to salvage the situation. “I think you’re nice, actually.” His face was warm and pink again.

“I think you’re nice too.”

And it continued on like this. Some days, he’d pop over to visit and speak with you from below the tree, when he was sure no one was watching. Until a day came where he wasn’t as careful, and was spotted by a concerned neighbor, who ratted him out to his parents. 

You were sad that he wasn’t allowed to see you again, but you’d grown used to being alone for most of your childhood, so you tried to put it behind you and move on, unaware that he’d often look out for you at each week’s Sunday Mass.

━━━━━━━━━━━

A number of years passed, and you filled out into your own body. You were in your senior year of an all-girls Catholic high school, and had recently turned 18. Reaching womanhood also meant that you became acutely aware of the changes in the way society treated you now, as compared to the opposite sex. Heads turned as you stalked around with one of the more unruly cliques in your school. Instead of being name-called after otherworldly creatures, you were reduced to bitch, slut, or whore. 

People hated what they couldn’t understand or control. You’d been giving the nuns a hard time by asking controversial questions about the biblical text you were meant to study and recite blindly. Detention was nothing new to you and your friends, whom you’d been caught smoking cigarettes together with on school grounds. You were a rebel at heart, and the rest of the law-abiding community wanted to crush that and make you conform.

Leon, on the other hand, had been going to the all-boys school next door, which shared a brother school relationship with yours. He was in the same year and age as you, though being a man meant he had the privilege of getting away with certain things you couldn’t. Even there, your name wasn’t safe from being circulated around the rumor mill. You were the subject of boys’ locker room talk. They associated you with the ‘bad girl’ crowd, highlighting your love for reading banned books and boasting about supposed sexual escapades with you. 

“She’ll do favors,” they said, making vulgar gestures by moving their fist back and forth in front of their mouth, while poking their tongue against their cheek.

Leon slammed his locker door shut and stormed off. It made him uncomfortable that they gossiped about you that way, but he was even more ashamed of the fact that he made no effort to stand up for you. He hardly knew you, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that what they were doing was finding a scapegoat to blame. That, unfortunately, time and time again, happened to be you.

Most of the students there were sexually active anyway, but no one had complained about them. As long as one kept things on the down-low and upheld a certain moralistic façade, they were considered as ‘innocent’, ‘pure’, or ‘normal’ even. For one, he was pretty sure that his father was having an affair with the church choir mistress, but that seemed to go overlooked. 

Everyone’s such hypocrites, he pondered, frowning in distaste. Including himself. Although he liked to think that he was brave and courageous, in actuality, he was afraid of rocking the boat. Fitting in was more important, just as his parents had taught him from a young age. It was the side of him that he hated the most, but could not get rid of.

Gathering his belongings, he left school and hurried off. He’d been requested last-minute to serve at Mass that evening, as one of the other altar boys had fallen ill. At church, he exchanged his school uniform for the standard black cassock and white surplice, before starting with the Introductory Rites.

You, on the other hand, had been singled out along with a bunch of other troublesome girls to attend Evening Mass with the Mother Superior that day. It was just your luck that you had to devote an hour of your time to a set of outdated rituals and prayers, with the aim of reflecting upon your sins. The most frustrating part of this exercise was that all of you were placed in the front row pews, so there was no chance of daydreaming or dozing off in front of the priest. You’d never been much of a believer, but sometimes you did speculate if God was watching your every move from above.

As you stood up for the entrance procession, which signaled the start of Mass, a familiar mop of dirty blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes passed by. You’d recognize that anywhere, but it was a wonder how you hadn’t realized that he was serving as an altar boy all this while. Maybe your Mass timings hadn’t aligned? Or maybe you just never paid much attention in church. You’d only seen him here and there when he attended Mass with his family as part of the congregation, but you ignored him back then, because you didn’t want to remember the feeling of losing the closest thing you had to a friend in your pre-teen days.

When Leon turned around to face the congregation for the greeting, he gulped as he saw you, standing almost directly in front of him as both of you made the Sign of the Cross. Speak of the devil, he muttered internally, before chastising himself for unintentionally insulting you and shook that thought away.

You gave him a coy smile as he scampered off to where he was meant to be stationed. For the first time in a while, you took the chance to admire his chiseled features and how much he had grown. He had always been attractive, but he was no longer the little boy you used to know, and instead now a fine, young man, in an even finer religious attire. Puberty did him good, you mused.

All at once, a mischievous plan flashed across your mind as you plotted how to win his attention. It would be an entertaining way to pass the time in this mundane institution. Viewing the school uniform as yet another means for the authorities to curb people’s freedom and creative expression, you had a habit of violating the dress code by making minor adjustments to it. Whether it was shortening the hem of your skirt or wearing below the ankle socks, you went for it. And today was no exception.

You waited until it was time to be seated before attempting to catch his gaze. Within a few minutes, he sneaked a peek your way and you stifled a laugh. Bingo. As you continued looking straight at him, you stretched your legs out cautiously, so as not to alert the Mother Superior, who sat beside you, to your antics. His eyes widened and flickered, as you showed off their length, rotating your ankles in small circles languidly. The other altar boys started to take note and whispered in hushed tones amongst themselves. But you only had eyes for Leon, scrutinizing him like a hawk, as you bared your teeth with a sly grin plastered across your face.

It was only a matter of time before the Mother Superior rapped you on the legs with a thin, wooden cane she carried around for doling out such punishments. The other girls in your row giggled as you returned your legs to a respectable position, disregarding the smarting pain that had accompanied the blow. 

It was worth it, you reasoned, spotting Leon’s lopsided smile, as he turned away to hide his blush.

This soon carried on like an unspoken game between you and Leon. You’d attend Mass whenever he was serving as an altar boy, and he’d look out for you, exchanging glances like a secret code shared between the two of you. A sense of thrill arose within him each time, as to what you’d try next. If only he knew what you were capable of.

At some point, you grew bolder. During the Holy Communion, where Leon had been helping the priest to hold the patina under the chins of those who received the Sacred host, you made sure once again to make eye contact with him the whole way through. Your mouth was slightly agape, as you extended your tongue, clasping your hands together in a pious prayer position. When the priest placed the host in your mouth, you swallowed it suggestively, licking your upper lip for a finishing touch. Leon nearly stumbled over backwards as his face turned bright red like a tomato. The last thing he heard was your silvery laughter, and you returned to your seat as if nothing had happened. You had ensnared him now.

When Mass ended, you slipped him a note, asking him to meet you at the confessional when everyone else had been ushered out. You knelt in the penitent compartment, waiting for him to arrive, confident that he would show up. A few minutes later, you heard someone enter the booth where the priest usually sat.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” you began. Through the latticed screen, you could just about make out Leon’s face as he chuckled.

“What are you playing at?”

“You tell me,” you challenged, testing the waters. “I haven’t received any complaints.”

“Well, I have a question,” he mentioned quietly. “Do you still remember when we hung out back then? At the tree.”

There was pang in your heart, as you recalled your childhood memories. “Of course, you were the only one who bothered to speak to me.”

You pursed your lips before taking the plunge. “I really appreciated that.”

There was a momentary pause, as he took your words in. “I wish they didn’t separate us.”

“It isn’t too late to start over.” It was humiliating how eager you sounded. No matter how much you tried to repress it, you yearned to rekindle that connection you had with him once.

“Listen, I like you,” he admitted, sighing heavily. “But, I can’t go public with this. My parents-”

“Who says it has to be public?” You retorted defensively. 

His heartfelt confession emboldened you, yet a part of you felt dejected that this was the best option he could offer. However, you didn’t want to concede without giving it a shot.

He made a noise which sounded like he was in disbelief. “You mean-”

“Shall I come over and show you?” You interrupted, already getting up before he could answer.

“Y-yeah,” he stammered. “I-I’d like that, I guess.”

Exiting your compartment, you stepped out and swiftly went over to where he was, closing the door behind you. It was crammed and stuffy in this tiny box with two people, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Giving him a once-over, it struck you that he was still in his altar boy attire and perhaps what you were about to do was wrong on so many levels, but you brushed those thoughts aside.

“Um-”

Before he could speak any further, you ran your hands up along his chest and planted your lips onto his, soft and pillowy in texture. He let out a low moan, easing into your embrace as he kissed back, holding onto the back of your head for better leverage. His tongue grazed across your lips and you parted them in response, allowing it to slip inside as you tasted each other. Grabbing the collar of his cassock, you pressed your bodies together heatedly. You sucked on his tongue, eliciting another moan from his throat, as you shuffled him around, pushing his back against the wooden wall with a loud thud. Both of you had lost yourselves in a whirlwind of kisses, oblivious to the outside world and the ruckus you were making.

However, it was hard to ignore the hymn that was being sung when the next Mass started. Leon froze, before pulling away hastily. His mouth was red and swollen, and a pearly string of saliva connected it with yours.

“Shit, we lost track of time,” he panted. 

If you didn’t want to be seen, you’d need to remain where you were until the Mass ended. In other words, both of you were trapped here for at least another hour. 

Not being one to let such matters ruin the vibe, you responded, “That’s not a problem for me.” Trailing a lone finger down Leon’s body seductively, you let it come to rest above the growing bulge in his cassock.

“Are you serious?” He breathed, as you cupped your hand around it, palming him through his clothes.

“You got a better idea?” You murmured in his ear, squeezing his erection a little as you continued rubbing against it.

“Don’t get me wrong, it feels amazing.” His voice was strained as he spoke. “But, it’s just…”

“Catholic guilt?” You teased.

“Yeah, probably.” He nodded sheepishly.

“Well, maybe if we get you out of this thing.” You gestured to his attire. “You might relax into it more.”

“Makes sense,” he agreed, tugging the surplice over his head and discarding it to the ground. “Though it never really goes away, does it?”

You shrugged, shaking your head. “I still get it, but it’s less of an issue now.” It made you follow up with a question of your own. “Does that mean I’m a bad person?”

His eyes crinkled as he grinned. “You're doing it again.”

“Hm?”

“Guilt,” he indicated. “But to answer your question, no, I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway.” You tried to deflect the topic, knowing the rumors that people spread about you. Leon had probably heard it all. “At least there’s still hope for you.”

“Thanks?”

“Don’t thank me yet.” You winked, removing the sash from his cassock as he unbuttoned the rest of it, revealing a plain white shirt and a pair of shorts underneath.

He snickered as you clucked your tongue at the sight. “What did you expect me to do? Go Commando?”

“Would’ve been hot,” you pointed out.

Leon had always been perceptive. From your interactions, he began to suspect that sometimes you relied on lighthearted banter as a way to mask your nervousness and other underlying emotions.

Nestling his fingers under your chin, he turned you towards him. “You sure about this?”

“Mm hm.” It was sweet of him to check in. Most guys never offered you the same courtesy. “Been thinking about it since Communion,” you added brazenly.

He snorted as you gave him a quick peck on the lips. Working your way down, you kissed his clothed body, pulling the waistband of his underwear and shorts to his ankles. Kneeling before him, you reached for his cock, smearing beads of his precum carelessly along his velvety skin, while you pumped his hot shaft slowly.

He inhaled sharply, snapping his eyes shut, as he tilted his head back in pleasure. In the background, you could hear the priest’s sermon droning on.

With a smug smile, you warned, “Do me a favor and try to keep it down, will you?”

Before he had a chance to react, you filled your mouth with his cock, sliding all the way down its hardened length.

“Jesus,” he groaned.

Instantly, you released it with a pop and tutted in mock disappointment, “Taking the Lord’s name in vain?”

“We’re so going to hell for this,” he laughed faintly, tangling his hands in your hair.

“Ah-” He gasped again, as you held onto the base of his cock, lifting it to flatten your tongue on its underside. Slathering it with saliva, you took his balls into your wet mouth, one at a time, sucking on them delectably. “Fuck!”

“Don’t you ever shut up?” You joked.

“Not if you keep doing what you’re doing, angel.”

Angel. That was a new one. You’d never been called that before, but you liked the sound of it.

Wrapping your lips around his cock, you started a steady rhythm, bobbing your head up and down his shaft. Each time you came up, you flicked your tongue at the tip, licking it as you stared up at him. His eyes flew open, gazing at you with lust and arousal while you sucked him off more vigorously.

Sliding his cock in deeper, you allowed it to hit the back of your throat, causing you to make a guttural noise. Clenching his fist, he bit down hard on his knuckles to stop himself from crying out. If this was hell, he’d stay right here with you. He couldn’t think straight anymore, as he bucked his hips forward in response.

Grabbing his ass, your fingernails left crescent shaped indents on his skin, as you let him fuck your mouth to chase his high. Tears lined your eyelashes and sweat poured down your brow. It had gotten incredibly hot and humid in this enclosed space. But his muted moans only served to turn you on even more. You wondered how perverse and trashy you looked in this position, though Leon could only mumble the opposite in his feverish state.

Soon, he tensed and quivered while hissing through gritted teeth, “God, I’m gonna cum.”

Lady Luck appeared to be on your side, as the congregation were in the middle of singing another hymn, which inadvertently muffled whatever sounds were coming from the confessional. He struggled to hold in his groans as you felt a thick, salty load of his cum wash up against your throat. You choked a bit before swallowing it whole.

Collapsing backwards, you leaned against the cool surface of the seat behind you, wiping the edges of your mouth. Tucking his spent dick back under his clothes, he sank down beside you, kissing you gently and tasting himself on your lips. 

“You ok?” He brushed his thumb along your cheek.

You nodded silently and smiled, contemplating if there would be a future to what you had with him now.

“I ruined you,” he jested, showering you with kisses along your jawline.

“As if.” You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you knew it was the truth.

And, just like he had read your mind, he uttered the magic words, “So, when will I see you again?”

━━━━━━━━━━━

Since the encounter at the confessional, you continued your clandestine meetings with Leon, just like back in the old days, except both of you were now wiser in covering your tracks. In public, you pretended not to know each other, yet shared furtive, longing glances when you were in the same vicinity. Sometimes, he would make an excuse to brush past you, his touch ghosting across the curve of your spine, your shoulders, the back of your hand to the tip of your pinkie finger. Away from prying eyes, you hooked up passionately, damning each other further to hell. How many levels were there again? You’d lost count.

You enjoyed the moments spent with him. The aftercare and cuddling. The long talks into the night. You understood each other somehow, it wasn’t like this with other people. So, if the Day of Judgment arrived, why would God not sympathize with you both?

Despite that, neither of you had put a label on where you stood with each other. How did this secret relationship work? If you were found out, would he ditch you like before? Would you be thrown under the bus, so that he could be purified again? It wasn’t long until insecurity reared its ugly head, gnawing at you from within.

Leon sensed something was off as you lay in his arms, naked while he spooned you in the back seat of his car, parked along a desolate dirt path near the forest. You had that pensive look on your face, like you were in a world of your own, one where he couldn’t enter.

Pulling you close to him, he kissed the top of your shoulder, coaxing you out of your reverie. “Wanna talk about it?”

You hummed noncommittally. After a long pause, you asked, “Are you embarrassed by me?”

He was caught off-guard by the question and his breathing stilled. “No,” he argued. “Why would you think that?”

“I’m just tired of hiding,” you sighed. “It’s like I’m making you do something bad.”

There was a brief ache in his chest, as guilt swelled up like a wave. Coward, an inner voice spat.

Carding his fingers through your hair, he pressed his lips against the temple of your head. “You make me feel like the best version of myself.”

“Hm.” You pinched your lips together, wanting to believe him, but you weren’t convinced.

He observed this, but decided not to press the issue any further, knowing that you needed action, not words.

She’ll be your downfall. A surly voice piped up within him, like fire and brimstone. He shook it off, ignoring the moral tug-of-war that had occurred once he made that statement, as he vowed to prove himself to you in the coming days.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The next time you’d agreed to meet was in church, after the very last Mass of the day. He was serving as an altar boy again, and you were intrigued as to whether he had planned to reenact the entire confessional scene or switch it up with something new, like making you go through the Stations of the Cross while fucking you. You giggled at the idea, only to be shushed by a fellow parishioner, whom you had disturbed in meditative prayer.

When Mass ended and everyone except yourself had left the nave, you waited patiently for him in the pews. After a while, you felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to face Leon, who had changed into his casual clothes. As you got to your feet, he cupped the sides of your face in his hands, closing the distance, and bringing your lips to meet his in a fervent kiss. You were slightly taken aback by his initiation, since he was usually the shyer one out of the two of you.

Claiming your hand in his, he led you to the front, where the altar stood before the austere crucifix that hung from the wall. He smirked, noticing the look of shock and incredulity on your face, as it gradually began to dawn on you what he had in mind. However, he was anxious too, you could tell from the way his hand was trembling. He was sealing his fate, and you were both going down together. Nothing could bring you back after this ultimate act of blasphemy.

At the foot of the altar, he caressed his lips against yours. “I guess God is our witness now.”

Leaning in, you found yourselves consumed in a lip lock, which deepened with each passing second as you helped each other out of your clothes, kicking them off unceremoniously to the side. He spun you around, bending you forward against the smooth, marble top of the altar. The cold surface caused your nipples to harden and goosebumps to form on your skin. You shivered as he spread your legs wider apart and knelt down, holding your thighs as he licked a firm stripe along your silken folds. 

As he continued to lap at the sensitive flesh, he brought a hand towards your clit, stroking it softly with his middle finger. You jerked from the sensation, whimpering as he alternated between thrusting his tongue into your heat and suckling it with his lips. There was a slight pressure as you felt one of his fingers sliding into your pussy, already soaked with arousal. At the same time, his tongue trailed up towards your rim, teasing it with long, flat licks.

“Oh my god!” You gasped, gripping the edge of the altar, as an electrifying tingle coursed through your veins.

There was a playful smack on your ass. “Forgotten the Third Commandment already?” Leon scolded.

“Huh?”

“Taking the Lord’s name in vain,” he mimicked your tone from when you had teased him at the confessional.

“Ugh,” you whined. “I’m sure this is the least of our concerns.”

You felt his hot breath against your asshole before he dipped his tongue in lightly. Simultaneously, he pumped your pussy, pushing in another finger and stretching you out, before his tongue went back to circling around your rim, inciting a string of moans from your mouth.

“Feeling good?”

“Mm, yes,” you replied hoarsely. “But when are you going to fuck me?”

He coughed out a laugh at your bluntness, before imparting a piece of unsolicited advice. “Patience is a virtue.”

You groaned at his quip. “Really, Leon? Are you-”

He interrupted rudely, pressing his hand on your back as he entered you, burying his cock deep into your cunt. You nearly screamed in ecstasy as he pounded his hips against your ass repeatedly, already setting a brutal pace from the beginning. Maybe you should’ve been careful of what you wished for.

“What was that again?” He taunted.

You growled, clenching your jaw as you felt his dick dragging against your sensitive walls. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed across the space. Your mind fogged up in an insatiable haze as you pushed back rhythmically against his thrusting, allowing him to penetrate you further, and taking pleasure in how his head brushed against your cervix with each stroke.

“So close,” you rasped, your core tightening as if it was about to burst.

At this, he pulled away briefly, flipping you over as he lifted you onto the altar top. He had a bruising grip around your thighs, which you wrapped around his waist instinctively, interlocking your ankles behind his back to draw him closer. Bewitched, he took a moment to drink in the divine sight of your flushed, moist body, supple and wanting in his arms, before kissing you sloppily on the mouth. Pressing his forehead against yours, he asserted, “You don’t know what you do to me, angel.”

With that, he rutted into you relentlessly, your breasts bouncing as you clung to the back of his neck, crying out in rapture. When you finally snapped, a glimmer from the gold cross necklace he wore daily flashed before your eyes. You looped your index finger around it, tugging at it as you peered up at the bleeding face of Christ looking down at you ominously from the crucifix. The last remains of the day’s light filtered through the stained glass behind him, casting a kaleidoscope of mottled colors across your bodies, the altar and the stone floor, like a disease.

You realized you had tempted Leon beyond salvation. But in spite of it, he had followed you willingly. This was the proof he had wanted to show you. You were the angel he would desecrate everything for. He’d cut your wings off so you’d be his and stay.

His cock throbbed with desire as he rode you through your orgasm. As he neared the edge, he pulled out, finishing himself off. Nuzzling his face into your neck, he murmured a mixture of curses and professions against your skin, while spurting hot white cum over the mound of your pussy. Holding onto the marbled structure for support, he bent over you, placing tender kisses on your eyes and your lips.

It seemed as if he had turned his back on God and worshiped you now. But instead of a guilty conscience, you felt nothing but love. Silently, both of you cleaned up and got dressed. He delicately reattached the butterfly clip that had come loose in your hair, while you wiped away the lipstick that had smudged onto his face. There would be no signs of what had transpired, except he had another surprise lined up for you. 

Upon exiting the church doors, Leon took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, as you walked out onto the street together. You were his - he’d show you off to the whole damn world without shame.

[headoverjojo]

I apologise if this has been done but my mum woke me up from my dream about marrying Bucciarati this morning and I was acc. pissed, the dress was satin and everything and had gaudy jewellery and stuff, FFS mum So please could I have some marriage hcs or scenario, whichever is easier, for Bruno since my mum decided to destroy my dream 😴 💭👰💍🤵 👌😂⏰

Hello there! Oh god it was so goooooood to write it! Bless you and your request :,) (but Mum, please, next time let the dream end!!)

Bruno Bucciarati’s wedding

Bruno got up way earlier than usual. He just didn’t feel comfortable sleeping alone, without your warmth and body pressed against his, without feeling your breath and heartbeat. He sighed, rubbing his face, to chase away the last trace of slumber, and got up to open the window, inhaling deeply the still chill air. The city was still sleeping and the breeze brought smell of salt and sea and the faint voices of the fishermen who were heading back to the harbor with boats full of fishes. He smiled a little, closing his eyes for a moment: it was all so familiar… it was like his long passed dad too wanted to wish him the best for his wedding.

The thought of it made his heart leap in his throat. He was going to wed… the smile grew bigger and a bit nervous: he couldn’t deny to feel a little tense too, even if mostly he was happy beyond imagination. He tried to relax, even if his mind was always setted to the “Capo mode” and was thinking about all the possible scenarios: what if the bride wouldn’t want to marry him anymore? What if something would have got in the way? Anything could happen, even horrible things…

“You’re thinking too much again, Bruno.” Bruno snapped back, hearing Leone’s voice. His best man approached him, leaning on his forearms, near him. For few minutes they watched the sky slowly changing from blue, to grey, to a soft azure, while the sun rose, in a companionable silence. Then, Abbacchio talked again, quiet.

“It will go all well. Y/N loves you more than anything, so she’ll not run away. And it was all perfectly organized, so nothing out of ordinary will happen and, if it will happen, Trish and Giorno will destroy it. You know that nothing could ruin the wedding they had organized.” he said, managing to make Bruno chuckle and loose up a little.

“How did you know that those were exactly my fears?” he asked, still chuckling. Abbacchio huffed a little, passing a hand through his hair still tied in a bun, trying to smooth them.

“Because I know you and those were the same fears I had when I married. You told me the same things, you know.” he replied, friendly squeezing the Capo’s shoulder. Bruno smiled, nodding lightly. He was right…

“Now, come here. You have to eat at least something and then dress, before the chaos will be unleashed.” the taller man invited, stepping away from the window. Bruno followed him down to the kitchen, where Fugo and Giorno, still with the curlers on, were preparing breakfast. They smiled, welcoming the husband-to-be, and all together ate the meal.

“Narancia, Guido and Trish?” Bruno asked, sipping his coffee. He knew you were already awaken: he had heard your window opening and your voice talking to someone on the phone, probably a relative or a friend, and he had had to physically restrain himself from going to see you.

“Narancia is still sleeping, so please leave some chocolate biscuits or he’ll whine all day, Mista’s already out and Trish has brought breakfast to Y/N and is helping her to dress up.” Fugo answered, mixing his cappuccino. Bruno nodded, with a deep breath. If he closed his eyes, he could already see you in your beautiful dress -he didn’t know which one you had chosen: he just knew it was a satin dress, but he was absolutely sure that it would have been lovely on you-, your smile, your bouquet and then the ring at your ring-finger…

“Bruno, it’s getting late. Let’s go.” Leone said, noticing that his friend was spacing out again. Bruno blinked, nodding and getting up, while Fugo and Giorno were cleaning all up. He thanked them, then followed Leone upstair, stopping when he heard your and Trish’s voices coming from your room. It wasn’t closed well, a crack of light came from it, framing the floor. Just a little peak, just to be sure you were here, that you were going to really come to the altar…

Abbacchio covered Bruno’s eyes with his hand, dragging him to his room, with a sigh. Was he too like this on his own wedding?

“No peeks, Bruno, it brings bad luck.” he said, amused, closing the door. Bruno sighed, picking his suit out of the wardrobe, smiling a little when he saw again the little note that Y/N left on the pocket. “For the wedding morning: I can’t wait to reach you at the altar, Bruno. I love you. Y/N”, it warmed his heart and gave him the calm he needed. He slid off his night clothes and, after a quick shower, put on the black suit and, finally, the cuff links. He smiled again, remembering when he bought them, under your advice. “They’re dots with a tail, like the ones on your suit, but white! They’d fit well on the smoking, don’t you think?” you said, with a smile, convincing him to buy those. And oh how you were right: they perfectly fit.

“Do you think it will all go well, Leone?” he asked, breaking the silence. Abbacchio watched him, while he was fixing his hair in a low ponytail, before answering.

“Honestly? Marriage is made of ups and downs. There will be times when you’ll feel down, when you’ll have misunderstandings and quarrels. But you’ll find a solution. You already know how to work in a team, so you’ll do fine. It will go all well.” he answered, with a small smile. Bruno exhaled, nodding at him, his lips faintly curved in a smile, before braiding his hair as usual. His friend’s words helped him to calm down again: he was right. He and Y/N were a team, a duo that had already faced many downs but that always managed to get up again learning from past mistakes. They will have worked in team even more, after the wedding.

The clock finally reached 10 a.m.: it was time to go. The two came out of the room -Abbacchio had to drag Bruno away from your room again- and, downstair, they met up with Fugo, Giorno and a still yawning, even if already dressed, Narancia.

“Ok, so, you, Abbacchio, Narancia and Fugo go now. Mista is already at the church to check the last preparations. I, Trish and Y/N will come in more or less half an hour.” Giorno repeated, as it was a war plan. The four nodded and, after saying bye, they headed out.

The car ride was animated by Narancia and Fugo’s conversation. For once it wasn’t a brawl and Bruno was so relieved: he was nervous again, he wouldn’t want to snap at the boys. He even joined the convo a bit, trying to loosen up his nerves, but his heart galopped again when Abbacchio stopped the car near the church. It was all perfect: the sky was clear, the sun warm but not scorching, a light breeze refreshed the air, the flowers were all perfectly disposed -and there was nothing in group of 4, Mista minutely checked- and the guests were coming. Bruno welcomed every one of them, with a smile and a handshake. They were mostly part of your family, but he didn’t mind: his family was his team and they were all here, so it was fine.

Then, Bruno headed to the altar, taking a deep breath, stopping at the end of the nave, checking one last time the clock: it was almost 10.30 a.m. You should have arrived soon…

Abbacchio gave his shoulder a poke, when Giorno marched in the church and signaled to the organ player to play the wedding march. Bruno’s heart was beating so fast that he almost didn’t even hear the march, but he saw you, oh, when he saw you his heart exploded. He had to restrain himself from running and picking you up, repeating to himself that you soon would have been near him. He admired in complete awe the way the satin dress softly enveloped your body, so lovely, so perfect, how the exquisite jewels you chose made your beauty stand out even more, still remaining sober. He couldn’t believe to be so lucky, so blessed. His eyes clouded a bit, when he saw his same adoration in your eyes and the smile of pure happiness that graced your lips. If it is just a dream, he pleaded, please don’t wake me up…

Fugo, the one chosen to accompany Y/N to the altar, took your hand and gently placed it on Bruno’s, smiling at the two and muttering his congratulations, before withdrawing among the gang family. Bruno’s eyes were still on you, as much as yours, glued on your stunning eyes, on your smiling lips. God how much he would have wanted to kiss you, to hug you, to be sure it was all real…

The priest words flowed in a blur and, finally, it was the time of the promises. Bruno took a deep breath, both to loosen up his nerves and to prepare his voice. Watching you in the eyes, he promised to love you, respect you and support you in every moment of life, good and bad, until death. His voice broke a bit on the last words and you smiled, watching with teary eyes as he gently slid the ring on your finger, sealing the promise.

He smiled, happy and moved, drying a tear that escaped your control, and listened to your resolute, even if a little broken, voice while you declared the wedding promises. A watery chuckle escaped his lips, when he felt the ring around his finger, solid and real.

“And now I declare you husband and wife.” the priest declared, crumbling the last bit of Bruno’s control. He tried to contain himself but, as soon as the priest said he could kiss the bride, he finally gave in, gently taking your face in his hands and leading you into a sweet, sweet kiss, caressing your wet cheeks, smiling against your lips. He didn’t even hear the happy cheers from the guests: you were everything he was seeing and hearing, his world. And now it would have been forever.

[belovedbelmont]

Alright, I’ve got it. The details for a Castlevania Silent Hill AU.

The protagonist is Dracula, and he’s looking for his wife. (Very SH2-esque) There’s appearances/mentions from/of Julius, Leon, Alucard, Simon, Trevor, Richter, Jonathan, Eric, John, Charlotte, etc.

I’ve bolded the main points of interest in each paragraph if you want to find specific part or want to scroll through.

He wakes up in a forest before Silent Hill, he’s smaller, slower and weaker than normal. Bats and crows follow him and increase in numbers the closer he gets to the town, before disappearing abruptly once he reaches a graveyard. 

A gravekeeper that vaguely looks like a 19-y/o Julius greets him into the town, he’s obviously suspicious of Dracula. He never asks him what his reason for being there is, though. Dracula passes into the town. The first thing he sees is a red and white coat on a signpost, which he mistakes for a monster. Angry at being deceived, Dracula tears the coat from the signpost and it disappears as soon as it’s off. Dracula doesn’t seem to notice. 

Most of the enemies are clearly flammable. bundles of sticks, wooden things. Dracula has to use fire to destroy them. Other enemies look a bit similar to fleamen, but they’re made of chains and try to grab his face. Lots of enemies are attached to ropes and chains, and try latching onto him and pulling him back.

Dracula meets a small, blond boy, who’s somehow familiar. This boy fills him with intense rage that he doesn’t understand the reasoning behind, and the rest of this section of the story is Dracula chasing the boy, who continuously cuts-off his ways of getting to him. So, Dracula must be creative and find new ways to pass through areas to reach the boy.

After this segment ends, and Dracula finally decides chasing the boy isn’t worth it anymore, he approaches a building with neon, blue lights. Inside of it is a man who is too ashamed of himself to tell his name. He says he’s in Silent Hill because he has a cross he must bear for eternity, as punishment for his own foolishness. He has the key to the back exit of the building, which Dracula must get to. In order to get the key from this man, Dracula has to bring three letters to him, that spell ‘ANN’. The man leaves the key for Dracula, and leaves the building with slow feet, staring at the letters in his hands and repeating a name that only the beginning can be heard of.

The next notable part of the story, Dracula walks through a hallway that soon becomes a long bridge out in the open. At the end of the bridge is a figure. The figure is taller than him, which makes him uncomfortable. The figure keeps getting further as Dracula approaches, and when Dracula’s finally made it to the end of the bridge (which is now just a short hallway, again) he sees the red and white coat hanging on the door into the next room.

The regular enemies Dracula encounters after this are somewhat familiar. If Dracula steps in even the smallest puddle, he’ll get bitten. Either by a red half-formed fish creature, or by an eel who’s skin on it’s face peels back when it opens it’s mouth. There are the undead... but their skin is also their robes. They’re easy to kill, but there are so many, and in the areas they do appear, they spawn without end. 

In the next area, Dracula sees the blond boy again. He’s kneeling in front of a fire, weeping. Dracula just feels in his soul that this is as good a time as any to come up behind the boy and strangle him, but once he’s near enough, the boy stands up and he’s fully grown. He just walks away, and Dracula just goes about doing his own business like nothing had happened, suddenly tired.

The next interesting scene sees Dracula visit an area that looks out over the lake. Staring out over the lake at the railing is the man with the red and white coat, and Dracula approaches him and starts talking to him like they’ve known each other forever. The exchange is strangely normal, just talking about mundane things. The man in the coat makes Silent Hill feel less lonely, and reminds Dracula that he’s got someone else who’s going through a similar journey. Until the man with the coat asks about Dracula’s wife. Dracula doesn’t have time to respond. The next time he blinks, the man is gone, and Dracula must carry-on wandering alone. In the distance, across the lake and through the fog, one can faintly see fire on the horizon and the water almost looks red.

The more Dracula wanders, the more powers he remembers he has, but they’re all so weak compared to what he feels like they’re supposed to feel like. The more monsters he kills, the more powerful his magic becomes, but he is always unsatisfied with his power, and the enemies just keep seeming to get stronger.

Next, two men and a woman are approached. They are both angry with Dracula immediately, and Dracula can’t understand why. The first man looks mostly like Trevor, wielding a whip, the second is a bald man wielding knives and the woman’s face is obscured under a blue hood. The first man challenges Dracula to a fight. Just before Dracula can kill him at the end of their fight, that blond man from before appeared to repel Dracula’s magic and rescue Trevor. Dracula realizes now who that blond man is, it’s Alucard. He could tell because of the sorrow and fire in his eyes. A blonde woman wearing green is standing, watching from the distance.

After the exchange, Dracula carries-on like nothing. At some point, he sees the man who he’d met before, the one that had given him the key, and recognized him as Richter. He was more suspicious of Dracula, this time around, but their exchange concluded without a conflict. Dracula has no ill-will towards this man, he realizes.

Dracula eventually meets Death, who’s inside of an art gallery. Dracula appears the have the same level of familiarity with Death as he had with the man in the red and white coat. Death keeps pointing out the portraits, and keeps reminding Dracula that he’s the real Dracula. Eventually, the two go together into a portrait who’s frame is as long as a door, and when they’re inside, Death has disappeared but Dracula feels stronger. Two creatures that Dracula somehow knows are supposed to be young adults stand in front of him. In the first half of the fight, they’re attacking him individually, and in the second half of the fight, they combine with an odd war cry that sounds like the mixture of two names. 

When they combine, they create a monster that looks familiar, but it’s face is obscure. It has a very large torso, and it’s weapon is a spear, with the spearhead being able to lash-out like a whip using a chain. Every time it’s knocked-down, it disappears and reappears in some other part of the room laying down with it’s weapon through it’s abdomen. It’s a slow-moving monster, but it jumps around and swings the spear/chain with moves that look like they should be deadly, but Dracula soon realizes it’s impossible for him to die in this fight, because this monster isn’t real. Or rather, it wasn’t a real monster or enemy to Dracula. Once he realizes this, the monster lashes-out a final time before it begins to burn and crumble like an old war-torn building, standing triumphantly alongside it’s weapon. Dracula is left standing alone, back in the art gallery.

Later, Dracula would find himself in a church. Only... there are no crosses nor crucifixes, there was no one praying. The church was empty. The stained-glass windows show the images of two different, but very similarly-appearing women. Both blonde, both fill Dracula’s heart with love. The glass turns green and dark blue, and disembodied footsteps enter the church and walk up to where the altar was, beside Dracula. The footsteps stop, and a sound is heard. Dracula can assume the spirit is kneeling, and for some reason, he can assume it has it’s head to the hilt of it’s sword. It begins mumbling prayer, and the sound of a red and white coat in the wind can be heard. Dracula leaves the building, he decides it’s time to go.

The next time he sees Richter, Richter is enveloped in energy, he’s burning with blue fire and passion. His skin is melting, he knows this will be his last fight, and he challenges Dracula. Richter explains that Alucard had visited him only a moment before Dracula had appeared. They fight. When Dracula lands a final blow on Richter, the whip Richter had been fighting with flies from his hands, and he reaches for it desperately. The fires are burning his skin at a faster rate, now, and upon seeing his hand reach up for the whip, Richter realizes it’s his time to go. He bows his head, sits back on his heels, and sighs in relief when he dissolves into the ground.

At this point, Dracula’s barely heard or seen anything about his wife. He couldn’t even remember her name, it escaped him each time he thought about it. The two names he was thinking of continued to merge in his head. They sounded like ‘Elisa.’

There’s a point where Dracula needs to take the offspring of a monster that he’d encountered before, and it had run away after wounding him. He felt no regret, taking this offspring. He needed it to pull a key from it’s insides. However, the parent of the spawn soon caught-on to Dracula’s plan, and hunted him down. Dracula had to carry the offspring in a canvas bag across the town in order to extract it, the tools hiding in four different buildings. Throughout this whole time, Dracula could sense the monster following him. When Dracula finally was able to set the offspring down and open it, the monster ambushed Dracula and the two engaged in a battle. Once the monster was defeated, the offspring on the table let out a terrible wail that sounded like the enraged, pained screams of a young warrior. The offspring grew suddenly into a similar form as it’s parent had been, before rushing away and disappearing. The key it had is left behind.

Dracula soon feels his wife’s energy in the air. It makes him desperate, he needs to do whatever it takes to get to that energy. This eventually leads him back to the graveyard where Julius greets him again. Dracula descends into an unmarked, shared grave. He soon finds himself in a throne room, far underground. Shattered glass is pushed against the wall, the carpet is made of blood and the brick is dark. The throne is before a coffin, and no one sits in it. When Dracula sits, he’s alone for some time. He reflects. He remember his wives’ names. Elisabetha and Lisa. All of the anger and thirst for power he’s felt up until this point leaves his body. 

When he grows tired, he hears more footsteps come from the stairs that lead into the room. They were slow and encroaching, and when they finally get into the room, it’s shown that the footsteps belonged to a man who is clearly Simon Belmont. There’s fire in him, but it doesn’t consume him like it had with Richter. Suddenly, as Dracula stands from the throne, he notices he’s suddenly become much larger, more powerful. He realizes Simon is his last challenge to overcome before he can see his wife. In this same moment, he realizes that he, too, is Simon’s last hurdle to redemption. They engage in battle immediately, without need of words. 

When Dracula defeats Simon, Simon stands triumphantly. He doesn’t look dead, he looks like he’s defeated Dracula. A door opens at the other end of the throne room, and Simon slowly turns to stone. When Dracula casts a glance back one final time, he sees chains drag Simon’s crumbling body into the ground. A key is dropped at his feet. Dracula decides he doesn’t need the key-- his last door is already open to him.

The door leads into a dark world. A replica of old Wallachia and Transylvania, only everything was shrouded in darkness. Screams could be heard in the distance. Dracula ran towards it and the only source of light and heat in this world. Once he made it there, he found the body of an ambiguous woman attached to a burning cross, she was the one screaming, but her screams were inhuman. Searing chains shot from the fire, and figures hidden in the shadows around the fire would attempt to stab Dracula if he got too close. He realized he must kill this monster before him now. Her energy was very strongly like Lisa and Elisabetha’s, but she was not they. 

After killing the monster, the screams died. The flame died. The darkness started to fade away into lightness, and Dracula was falling through the sky. In the distance, a red eclipse. His hair was short and white, his hands looked human. When he fell, the wind almost sounded like music. When he hit the ground, his vision cut, but he could feel his body, unable to move, laying on the ground. Images came to his vision. Images of what was to come. Chaos, souls. A young lady with brown hair was the last image that came to him before Mathias died.

No, Mathias had been dead for a long time. Dracula died when he closed his eyes, and he awoke as a newborn Soma.

[ventoaureorun]

Passione (Bruno's) gang seeing their crush in a wedding dress.

[ Ok cos this is crush not S/O ill keep the marriage altar options out HAHA feel free to send an ask if u want to see me write that one I also throwed Trish and Fugo in cos idk do you guys count them as fully part of the gang whatever i have time im going to wrITE THEM. Its overall not too long for each character cos i wrote for all of them apologies]

✖ BRUNO BUCCIELATI ✖- I doubt this proud Capo would shed a tear but regardless it would definitely stun him. He’d think he was prepared to see you [I mean it’s just a dress how different will it be.] But he wasn’t prepared when you walked out of the room.- He’d have to pause for a moment and walk up to you to take a good look at your face before he agrees that he isn’t dreaming and relax.- If you two are alone he’d start letting the flatter stream in, telling you how angelic you looking in such an extravagant dress and how gorgeous he thinks you are. - He might even offering to take your hand to give you a spin in the glorious gown, making sure he can soak in how good you look in all of it, the way the cloth hugs your body and how his wish so badly he’d get to marry you someday.- If there are others around he’d surely be much more calm about it, the lightest blush covering his cheeks yet no one would comment anything and his actions wouldn’t be much different. However shooting the other members a look of disapproval if Mista they give any inappropriate comments about the way you look.

✖ GUIDO MISTA ✖- Mista wouldn’t be anywhere near remotely subtle about it, he’d immediately walk up to you with the brightest blush on his face and drown you in flattery.- Sure as hell expect him to throw in cheesy pickup lines asking you if you’d wear that for him someday too or about how he’d never thought you’d look so good in white, and how you’d look better naked. In which then Bruno or Abba would have shot him a look and lightly punched him.- Opposite of Bucci though, if others are in his presence he’d be loud about his affection but if its just the two of you he’d shy away over too, too embarrassed to look you in the eye. Giving you side glances as he blushes and compliments you.- Sex Pistols would definitely want to have a say in this, alone or not they’d pop up and start hovering around you, sitting on your shoulders or clinging onto your hair and smushing your cheeks they can’t get enough on how cute you look.- In which now Mista would be furiously apologising for their behaviour or he himself commenting about how he wish that was him, and how it was unfair that his stand could get so close to a goddess like you but he wasn’t allowed to.

✖ LEONE ABBACCHIO ✖- Abba would not make eye contact with you at all, averting his eyes to look at everyone but you’d he’d still tell you that you looked good. Maybe casually say something like good luck on this mission or something along those lines.- Deep inside thought his cold heart is racing, his head only forming images of you standing at the altar with him and this man cannot handle it.- Abba being Abba would also mentally note the exact time and day where this happens and you’re sure as hell when he’s alone in the mansion he’d replay this moment with Moody Blues as he smiles to himself without anyone noticing. You’ve enthralled this poor man.- If its just the two of you he’d let his hands cup your face, his fingers trail over your cheeks before adjusting your hair and just looking at you with a full blown melancholic look on his face. He’d would have internally swore to do all he can to see this waiting for him at the altar someday. It’s now his new personal goal.- If its with the rest of the gang around he wouldn’t even stand near you, probably sitting on the couch and taking in your full beauty from there, and when the other members ask him if he thinks you’d look good he’d just shrug and say something like “ Yeah whatever of course she’d look good.” while his own face heats up.

✖ GIORNO GIOVANNA ✖- Within seconds of seeing you, regardless alone or not, he’d already have used Gold Experience to form a rose to give you, or even helping put it into your hair.- You look Amazing, and the poor Don doesn’t know what to say, deep inside he’s thanking his ancestors already for giving him a chance to see you in a wedding dress before he even got to confess to you.- Giorno being the suave boss that he is would shoot you a soft smile and give you some nice compliments about how elegant you look. - If theres other people around he’d [not so] subtly do it instead maybe saying stuff like how even with Gold Experience he’s never seen any being so beautiful before and giving you such a warm smile you yourself feel the shivers go down your spine. It was a rare sight after all to see your boss so happy with you.- Giorno might also dismiss the other members in the room to give the two of you some time alone instead as he just wants to remember such a precious moment with only the two of you and no other distractions. Maybe even using such a time to hint his affection towards you.- He’d internally swear to protect you forever, telling himself he’d make sure he marries you someday. You were the most beautiful thing to exist in his dark world of the Mafia anyway. He would make sure you never get tainted again.

✖ TRISH UNA ✖- She’d definitely first comment about the state of the dress, asking you a flurry of questions about the material, brand, design. All of course to cover her embarrassment.- You look stunning and she hates it, how could you look so much better than her! She’d soon enough demand to get to try on the dress too just to see if you’d be as flustered as her when you see her in it.- Trish wouldn’t flat out say it but she’d definitely leave a comment or two about how good you look in it, and the slight passive aggressiveness on how good you look. “ Dammit your figure is too slim for such a dress! Let me wear it instead!”- If there are other members around she’d try to act more nonchalant about it, trying not to let anyone notice her gawking at you, especially making sure You of all people don’t notice.- However if it’s just the two of you Trish herself would be nicer about it, telling you how good you look and maybe offering to style your hair for you or do your makeup. She herself wants to see you fully dolled up anyway, she knows you’d be stunning.

✖ NARANCIA GHIRGA ✖- Like the excited child that he is Narancia would just gawk at you, be it if its just the two of you or everyone else is watching, the poor boy would just stare with his mouth open and blush rising to cover his face.-  With some nudges from the other members he’d eventually close his mouth before taking a deep breath and letting out the loudest “ Wow.” All he wants now is to let you know just how much he loves you-  His hands are covering his face now as he lets out a flustered blur of compliments all full of stutters as Aerosmith flies around him now to try and cool him down. The other members are laughing at the sight and so are you and the poor child is really overheating in embarrassment.- If its just the two of you. Its worse. He’s trying his best to act as cool as he can and giving you the weirdest compliments like how “ I like you as much as I like orange juice.” and giving a awkward wink and shaky laugh.-  And if you were to comment on how cute this scene was, teasing him, he’d totally lose it and blurt out something like how much he likes you and regret it right after.-  Its the cutest sight and if you didn’t like him before. You sure as hell do now.

✖ PANNACOTTA FUGO ✖- Fugo would just looked shocked for a good few seconds before regaining his usual composure however with a bright blush covering his face. Nothing else about him will change, snide remarks would still leave his mouth but everyone would notice how much more embarrassed he seems.-  If the other members tease him about it he’ll go full defensive mode asking them to shut up and threatening them while constantly making eye contact with you. If you were to laugh at his cute ordeal, his face would just get even reader.- If its just the two of you alone and you make a comment about how flustered he looks he’d quickly brush it off, scolding you a little before admitting in an accidental outburst to “ Stop fucking around I’m embarrassed enough!” and regretting it right after.- Of course like everyone else he’d be imagining you walking down the aisle to him in that dress and god bless Fugo might start tearing up a little, he’s just thinking about just how much he doesn’t deserve someone as beautiful as you especially with his stand and job being so ugly.- Fugo would still be trying to soak it all up and memorise your beauty for this, and after seeing this, might secretly beg Giorno to let him help you out on this mission instead in full overprotective mode. He doesn’t want you to get hurt at all after seeing such a blessed sight like this one.

[porcelainseashore]

Leon S. Kennedy Masterlist

⸺ SERIES ⸺

𑁍 Coffee & Secrets Rookie Cop! Leon x Barista! Fem! Reader

As a cozy coffee shop owner in Raccoon City, you’re no stranger to visitors seeking comfort, quiet, and warmth. When a rookie officer named Leon finds a kindred spirit in you, it sets in motion a chain of events that forever changes the course of your lives.

𑁍 Into the Ether - on hiatus! RE x VtM crossover, Vampire! Toreador! Leon x Fem! Reader (18+)

At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.

𑁍 Where We've Left Our Love RE2/4R Leon x Fem! Reader (18+)

An unexpected high school friendship with Leon leads to the blossoming of first love and heartache as your lives intertwine, separate and intersect once again over the years. To complicate matters, you have recently been assigned to work alongside him on a mysterious case occurring a little too close to home.

⸺ ONE-SHOTS ⸺

𑁍 A Party of Two Agent! Leon x GN! Reader

It’s not every day that you bump into the one and only Agent Kennedy alone at the office. And it’s certainly not every day that you invite a stranger to your family’s Christmas party. The question is, can you convince Leon to celebrate his most hated holiday with you?

𑁍 Darkroom RE4R! Leon x GN! Reader (18+)

You're a Sunday regular at the darkroom of your local nightclub, finding liberation through sex with random strangers and spontaneous encounters. One night, you meet someone whose touch feels different, and you connect in ways you never expected.

𑁍 Us Guitarist! Leon x Singer! Fem! Reader

You've joined Chris, Claire and Leon in Stars Rebellion as the band's new lead vocalist. If you thought chasing fame was hard, dealing with your growing feelings for a certain blonde guitarist might just take the cake.

𑁍 To Neighbors and New Beginnings Writing collab with AliBelleRosetta / @alibellerosetta Retired! Older! Leon x Neighbor! Fem! Reader (18+)

Leon’s getting on in years and finally retired. But that doesn’t mean he’s slowing down in terms of enjoying life. When you moved in next door, little did you realize what you had bargained for.

𑁍 Heavenly Creatures Altar Boy! Leon x Catholic School Girl! Reader (18+)

Growing up in a conservative, Catholic community, you and Leon were kept apart as kids for your own good. However, a fateful encounter at church many years later causes you to question those boundaries.

⸺ HEADCANONS ⸺

𑁍 Buckle Up and Enjoy the Ride Dominant! Leon x Fem! Reader (18+)

There are many things Leon uses his belt for — some of which involve you.

Dividers by @cafekitsune