#but i also really like just leon/luis

[zkretchy]

If anyone wanted to know my feelings regarding everyone wanting Leon-it’s basically this meme

[starishsky]

angst

[genuflecting]

I'm sure I've shared this thesis before but I absolutely believe that Resident Evil 4 is about the emotional experience of going from your early to late twenties. the dissonance Leon feels seeing Ashley who is 20, just a year younger than the age he was in RE2, and Luis who is only one year older than him at 28, and realizing he has more in common with the bitter lost cause than the bubbly hopeful kid. I need to bite something

[knifefightandchill]

This might be the dumbest ask you've ever gotten, so sorry in advance lol.... I'm a huge Kreon shipper. Love the original game. And I hear so many people saying that they ruined their relationship with RE4R and that all the sexual tension went to Luis instead. I see you posting both Krauser and Luis with Leon, so I'm curious if you agree? I haven't even played the game yet because I worry that their dynamic is ruined and that I'll stop liking them as much..... 😓

It's not a dumb question at all. XD maybe a little silly, but not dumb.

I didn't actually pick up on sexual tension between Luis and Leon. I can see where someone could, but I saw mostly like flirty stuff and like regular tension at times.😅 I don't think those two being around each other more detracted from Krauser at all.

Leon and Krauser still have the same chemistry and tension they've always have had. There are parts of their dynamic that are different in RE4R for sure. But I liked them more than not. They got some more depth. And the emotions are top tier too like 10/10. 💕 Like I had to take a break after the second Krauser fight, because aAAAAAH.

I've always shipped both and for different reasons. RE4R didn't change that. ^^; I don't think any dynamic was ruined. and I don't think you'll like Kreon any less if you already like them a lot.

But in the end it's all subjective. You should play the game and form your own opinions on it! There's so much more to RE4R than those 3 too. xDD Don't worry too much about what other people think.

RE4 will always be there too. It isn't being replaced. So like if you don't like them in re4r there's always the og! and then there's also always darkside chronicles too!

[4giorno]

THE MINECART SECTION

[zevrans-remade]

.

[geddy-leesbian]

I may have to like,, post a draft of this one-shot here without the knife fight scene because the beginning and end are so good but the fight won't be easy for me to write and has the potential to take ages so I just need to get the rest out there

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Headcanon/Preference # 36

Gifs NOT mine.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW (some subtle NSFW)

Reading time (roughly) - 4 minutes

• Leon S. Kennedy •

• Leon loves it for so many reasons. Firstly it's because of just how pretty it makes your lips, so kissable and shiny. Secondly he loves it because you love it, plain and simple, he's an amazing boyfriend.

• Leon not only likes seeing what new lip gloss you buy, but he also honestly enjoys going with you to pick out new lip gloss. But he will point out when you've obtained a bit too much lip gloss, and very very subtlety try to coax you into not buying more for a bit, at least until your stockpile has dwindled a bit.

• Leon never knew about plumping lip gloss until after you'd applied it, and kissed him later on. He was so shocked by it, and so confused at first. He grew to love it, but if he's being honest, his favorites are the ones that give your lips a unique tone. Like greys, purples, blues, and oranges.

• Jack Krauser •

• Jack honestly loves it so much it feels very out of character for him. Like he's borderline obsessed with how it looks on you, and even with how it feels when you kiss. So he's always stealing kisses whenever you reapply it.

• He buys you new lip gloss all the damn time. You could have hundreds, and he'd be still buy atleast one more. He especially likes plumping lip gloss, and how it makes your kisses feel electric.

• Jack especially loves how it feels when you kiss his scars while wearing lip gloss. I mean he loves it even without the lip gloss, but with it it's just that much better. Plus it makes it feel like your kisses are lingering on his skin, and he lives for that.

• Albert Wesker •

• Wesker honestly kinda hated it in the beginning of your relationship. He likes how it looks, well he loves it actually. But didn't much care for the feeling of it when you'd kiss.

• Eventually however he grew to appreciate it in a way. It was just another part of you by this point, and if for whatever reason you aren't wearing it when he steals a kiss, he'll just immediately assume something is wrong.

• Sometimes Wesker will forget to wipe off the lip gloss you left behind after a kiss. And when someone makes a stupid comment about it, he might just remark about how he's also got your lip gloss smears on his dick, just to shut them up... Even if it's true.

• Chris Redfield •

• Chris won't lie, he hates it. He likes how it looks on you, and he likes that it makes you happy and all. But Chris simply can't stand the way it feels, to him it just feels oily and gross. You end up getting into the habit of wiping it off his lips for him after every kiss.

• He doesn't mind it in the end, and won't try to convince you to stop wearing it. It's something you like, so he'll tolerate it for you with little complaint. He'll also compliment you whenever he notices you're wearing a new shade.

• Sometimes Chris just likes to take his thumb and run it across your bottom lip. And just watching the lip gloss smear is almost sensual in a way, it definitely feels very intimate that's for sure, but sometimes it almost feels more than just intimate.

• Luis Sera •

• Luis adores it so so much. Your lips are so soft from all the lip gloss use, and now his lips are so much softer from kissing you all the time, and simply never wiping the lip gloss off of his lips. Plus your lip gloss makes your kisses even sweeter.

• Totally keeps an extra tube of lip gloss in his pocket on the off chance you forget yours, or if you happen to loose yours. And yes the one he carries is definitely one of your absolute favorites, and he most likely bought it for you in the first place.

• Luis really enjoys when you pepper his face and neck with kisses, smearing your lip gloss over his warm skin, it feels like a kiss that'll last forever. And he craves more every single time. He's also totally the type to try your lip gloss out for himself, probably with you present even.

• Lucas Baker •

• Similar to Wesker, Lucas hated it from the very beginning... He also likes the way it looks, how shiny and appealing it makes your lips. But he never could stand the feeling of it, even when you'd kiss his cheek.

• Unlike Wesker on the other hand, Lucas still fucking hates it, with a goddamn passion he hates it. And he will literally (and dramatically) wipe his mouth of it after every single kiss, even when he was the one to initiate the kiss in the first place.

• Lucas will 1,000% try to convince you to stop wearing lip gloss. If he can't convince you to stop wearing it all together, he'll at least try to convince you to stop wearing it so much. He will throw a bit of a fit if you won't give it up. He also groans and rolls his eyes whenever you buy new lip gloss of course.

• Billy Coen •

• Billy teases the hell out of you for wearing lip gloss all the time, but don't let him fool ya, he loves it. It makes you look extra cute, especially when you're reapplying it. Plus it feels nice and silky, so it's a win win in his book.

• Despite his teasing, Billy enjoys watching you apply your lip gloss. Sometimes he'll tease you about making a mess, and intentionally smear it real bad. Afterwards stealing a quick kiss of course. And sometimes he'll just randomly get you a new lip gloss and be like it made me think of you. He's so cute it's annoying sometimes.

• Will beg you to keep your lip gloss on when y'all get down an dirty, especially if you're going to give him head. Then he'll tease you for leaving lip gloss smears on him, and then get salty if you try wiping it away.

This ones been sitting in my drafts since last year! Totally forgot about it, and I hadn't finished it, until like 10 minutes ago. ┐(￣ヮ￣)┌ Anyways I hope you enjoyed. I originally wanted it to be longer, but I'm content with it the way it is.

[frogchiro]

Hybrid re AU again 😳

Leon is a lot less grizzled and harsh compared to Jack. He has something of a forbidden friendship with Luis— Jack would say that anyone who isn’t allowed in the house should never be let near kitty, but Leon has seen Luis fighting to keep other coyotes and foxes off the property�� he knows the fox won’t hurt you. You watch them play fight sometimes.

Leon still won’t let Luis get his knot in you, but Luis tends to flirt his way around that. What I’m saying is that Luis definitely gives Leon instructions on how to fuck you while he watches. Leon is practically a puppy— lived his whole life on the farm, doesn’t always know what to do to make you mewl, and Luis is happy to help, giving you kisses while you’re stuck on Leon’s knot

Also— Alcina seeing you from a distance and taking a liking. Maybe she’s never seen a domestic cat before— she lives so far remote in the mountain. So to her you’re just like… a little baby. She’s a big cat after all, and you’re so little. And it’s so terrible how those stupid man-things mount and cow you all the time— you’re clearly a little regal thing, like her. She sees your frilly collar and how you’ll bat around a little mouse from time to time— her tiny little huntress. Maybe she thinks you need someone to teach you more— about how to be a big cat.

I'm so happy with the response to the revamped version of the farm au ;;

I actually imagine RE2 Leon for this particular au! Fiercely protective and determined to guard his farm, prove himself and protect but at the same time he is still the fresh faced, bushy tailed rookie! Still has the heart of a pup!

And yes you are right! Where Krauser is a retired military hybrid, huge and experienced, all grizzly bulk, a true wall of muscles, fat and scar tissue who doesn't take shit from anyone, Leon is...well, you don't want to say stupid but he has a boyish charm to him.

Him and Luis have a...complicated friendship. At first Leon chased after him the second he spotted the brown haired fox hybrid sniffing around you but after a while he realized that Luis isn't as bad as Jack made him out to be. He's not pest! In fact he saw him chase away other foxes and coyotes who tried to sneak onto the farm grounds!

And combined with that, Luis's natural foxy charm and his genuine friendly approach to the young hybrid really sold it to Leon. He even allowed Luis to get close to you and actually approach you. No mating or knotting! Just let you two get to know each other better >:( You even got to laze around in the warm sun and watch these two chase each other and play fight which never failed to bring a smile to your face <3

As for Luis's charm...Well, he likes and respects Leon very much and he doesn't want to overuse that trust and friendship so he puts off actually mating with you for later, however the sly fox knows some way to go around it...

I imagine that Leon, in all his labrador hybrid charm, has very little experience when it comes to mating. You were literally his first! And he would be yours too if Jack didn't call dibs on you first as the older and more experienced one :( In short, neither of you have a lot of experience and it shows, especially with Leon and how 'adorably eager' he is, as Luis says it.

Leon is still a young man, eager to please and extremely virile but he doesn't have the experience nor patience, he still thinks with his balls and the only thing on his mind is to stuff you full with his pulsing knot and pup you up and this just can't do, a pretty young lady like you deserves better <3

I imagine Luis slotting himself against Leon from the back, grabbing his hips and basically guiding them, moving his hips and purring into the dogboy's ear about all the best ways to pleasure you, how to cant his hips right to not cause you discomfort and instead bring you the most pleasure, all the best angles and spots to have you yowling and cumming your pretty head off <3

Later, when Leon made you cum at least three times and he himself had his knot stuffed deep inside you, the tip of his sensitive cock lodged firm against your cervix and he laid his soft body on top of you to keep you warm, Luis made sure to slink in next to you and kiss you until you were mewling and pawing at him, purring your head off with his name on you precious lips <3

And Cougar hybrid!Alcina!! She thinks you're just delightful, a precious young thing that should be cherished and prized! Ever since she noticed you, she's been quietly observing you from a distance; the precious kitty girl that's the princess of the...farm thing, or so Alcina thinks she heard someone say.

And it is in fact terrible to see how you're treated! These stupid knot-headed man-things who only think with their balls, thinking only about spreading their nasty seed are absolutely abhorrent in her eyes! Alcina saw how either those awful dog hybrids chase you and mount you, especially that ugly old blonde one, so roughly until you're mewling. Or her dumb brother who always bellows about how he almost caught himself a kitty for dinner, dragged her back into his den and pupped her good.

You're wearing adorable bows and delicate collars with precious stones in them, she knows beauty and actually can appreciate when she sees it, unlike those man-things who only know how to knot...You deserve to be treated like a regal young lady should, not some washed out tart on the corner of a street. She could treat you so so much better...

[hellodropbear]

it's time. (IV)

mapi leon x ingrid engen x child

part I, II and III

enjoy! this is the final part of the series

please send requests for any one shots for this family because I love them!

~~~~~~

The knock at the door was loud and rapid.

Mapi knew exactly who it was, having received very subtly passive text messages from Alexia about 15 minutes earlier.

Besides, it's not like it was going to be Ingrid, and nobody else visited her at the apartment.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she opened the door, bracing herself for whatever Alexia was going to say to her.

No words ever came out though, the midfielder just striding in and sitting herself on the sofa, her feet right beside where Isabel was playing.

"Ale!" The toddler's voice became excited as soon as she noticed her godmother walking in.

"Hey my Is." Her first words were incredibly exasperated, a long sigh escaping as her attention was turned to Mapi who was standing anxiously by the front door, having frozen after closing it.

"Frido told me that Ingrid is 'dejected and confused.'" She used her hands to make quotation marks around the adjectives before continuing. "She told me exactly what you said to her, how you said it. When you said it."

Mapi exhaled softly, walking over to where she had been playing with her daughter and sitting down, her little black cat settling in her lap.

"You told me to talk to her." Her voice came out like a mouse, quiet and hesitant.

"I didn't mean say one sentence on the pitch after the game and walk away! I meant think about what you wanted to say, how to say it and then have a grown up conversation with her!"

Isabel's head whipped back up, unfamiliar with the aggression in Alexia's voice. The midfielder winced, reducing her voice down to a softer tone.

"You are going to have to fix this Mapi, you can't avoid her like I know you were planning on doing."

The centre back's hands were occupied with the toys, but her mind was far from playing as she considered her options.

"What, so I tell her I want to be friends?"

Alexia nodded easily.

"But what if I can't? She's not someone I can just be friends with, Ale."

"Then you can just see where it takes you."

She shakes her head, her hands freezing around the toys in her hands.

"I wish it were that easy."

Alexia's heart broke with Mapi's voice, only now noticing the heartbreak written all over her best friend's face. Because this is really what Mapi thought was the right thing to do.

"Depriving yourself of happiness for the sake of your child is not going to end well for either of you."

Alexia's voice was softer now, her hand coming to a rest on Isabel's curly head of hair.

But Mapi just shook her head again, disagreeing.

"Isabel doesn't deprive me of happiness, she makes me happy. She's kept me going ever since Luis died."

The midfielder knew this, and she knew how much her best friend loved her child, how much she needed her and how much she relied on her. The baby was everything to Mapi and it was so obvious that she was just so afraid of doing something wrong, of messing up Isabel's childhood.

Everyone who knew the mother knew that wouldn't happen because she has done such a good job of raising the happy baby despite her own problems that she could easily let overcome her.

Once, she told Alexia that she had lost a best friend but been given a new one instead.

Another time, she had said that she would never be good enough for the baby that carries half of Luis around with her. She admitted that every once in a while, she would see tiny bits of her late best friend in her child and be so overcome with emotion.

Because it took her best friend dying to have this baby who she loved so much.

The day of Isabel's birth was a day of huge and conflicting emotions because Mapi loved the baby before she even saw her and couldn't imagine giving her away so quickly, but she also knew that if she hadn't just experienced the greatest heartbreak of her life she would have had to give her back to her parents.

And on top of that, the death of Luis and Isabel meant that they wouldn't be able to watch their little girl grow up, they wouldn't be able to be parents, something both of them desired so greatly.

So she loved her baby daughter so much, but part of that love would always be tainted by what she could have been, what she should have been; the fun aunt.

She was given the baby because she was the next best option after the two perfect parents, and she made a promise to herself that she would spend every day of her life trying to live up to what Isabel could have had.

Why should the baby lose out on such good parenting because of a tragic car accident?

And Mapi knew that she could never and would never break that promise.

Alexia knew that too, but she didn't think that Mapi finding someone to love would break her promise. If Ingrid was the right person, she would love and care for Isabel too, just like she already did.

"I know, Maria. But I think you deserve this, I know you do. If you don't like her like that I'll leave you alone, but I think you do."

Mapi's face softened.

"Of course I like her, Ale. She's kind, she's loyal, she's helpful. Is loves her and she loves Is. She's gorgeous - on the inside and the outside but she is so much more than that. She's complex, Alexia and-"

She was interrupted.

"And so are you. We all are complex and that's good. We all have our own stories and hardships, they just vary in size. You have a big story Mapi, I know. She knows that too."

"She doesn't know."

The centre back shook her head because in truth, she hadn't been able to bring herself to say it.

She had spent hours with Ingrid, every day over the past month they'd seen each other, gone on walks, had dinner together. Of course the topic of how Isabel was born should have come up, because Mapi was obviously a gay woman, it wouldn't have just been an accident.

She'd told Ingrid that she gave birth to Isabel, but nothing more.

Ingrid didn't feel like it was her place to ask any questions, and Mapi didn't know how to say anything more without breaking into tears for her lost best friend. She couldn't tell Ingrid about the pressure she felt because the Norwegian wouldn't have understood. Surely, she couldn't have?

Alexia's eyes rose and then focussed back down on Mapi.

"She doesn't know about Luis? Why you were out for so long?"

She shrugged, letting out a long exhale.

"I said that I gave birth to Isabel and didn't want to leave her so soon to go to training. She didn't ask any more questions. It's not like I lied or anything."

"I think you need to talk to her, Mapi. You don't need to talk about Isabel, but you need to tell her your thoughts. Try and be friends, for the sake of the team, please."

Mapi shrugged, telling Alexia that she would consider it.

The midfielder also suggested visiting the psychologist, but the suggestion was quickly shot down, as it was when Jonatan suggested it on her first day back.

Mapi had been to a psychologist once since Isabel was born, and it was a secret she would likely take to her grave. It had been a low point and she didn't know who to talk to, so she searched up a psychologist in Barcelona and went the next day.

She had sobbed on that sofa as Isabel slept in her arms, entirely unsure of what to do next and how to deal with her career, with her baby and with the grief that consumed her everyday life.

The psychologist had sat there with a neutral face, appearing bored as Mapi poured her heart out. She only spoke when Mapi's cries were reduced to quiet whimpers, telling her that she was depressed and shouldn't have taken on a load as big as a whole child when she was still clearly grieving her best friend.

The referral to the psychiatrist had only made the Spaniard feel worse, and she had returned to her apartment with less security in her decisions than she had before she went.

Another promise was made that day, and that was that she would never return to a psychologist, not unless she was forced to by the club. She would deal with everything else on her own.

~~~~~~

"You've been so good to me, Ingrid, and I'm so grateful. But I'm sorry, I can't do this. I can't have a girlfriend."

The words echoed through Ingrid's mind in the days that followed, unsure of what had happened, where she went wrong.

Mapi was the first person she'd become friends with, and she thought it was going well. She thought the Spaniard had liked her just as much as Ingrid liked the Spaniard, but clearly not. She had read the signs wrong or something, because you wouldn't say that to someone you liked.

She heard Isabel calling for her on the bus on the way home again, but this time she just smiled and waved.

She couldn't bring herself to sit next to Mapi, not when she had left her in the dust as soon as she recited her rehearsed lyric. It was confusion that she felt for a few days, but it didn't take long for that confusion to morph into anger and bitterness.

Frido had been understanding throughout it all, listening to all Ingrid's anger and confusion, advising her over and over to just talk to the Spaniard.

"She's got a child and we don't even know where she came from. It took her 14 months to start training again after giving birth when it usually takes up to 9. There must be something going on, Ingrid. She said she can't have a girlfriend, not that she doesn't want one."

The Norwegian had scowled, brushing off Frido's concern for Mapi and complaining that she was supposed to be on her side.

Frido was, but she was level-headed, she was smart. She wasn't blinded by anger or love or whatever Ingrid felt for the short centre-back with the adorable child.

"I don't want to talk to her, I don't want to go and beg. I just want it to be easy, I wish it was just easy."

Frido shook her head, an arm around Ingrid.

"It's not easy for an average person, let alone someone like Mapi who clearly has so much stuff going on. We don't know if she has anyone to talk to about anything, about raising a child."

"Alexia is like Isabel's other parent, she's been there since day one, apparently. Mapi's mum and Alexia were the only ones at the hospital when Isabel was born. She's not completely alone."

Ingrid shrugged but Frido frowned, becoming more and more curious about Mapi found herself with this child, and what the mystery was.

It wasn't her business, Frido knew that, but everyone was so proud of the Spaniard when she went back to training, her first game back. Their pride in the special centre back was more important than anything else after a long two years off.

And Mapi's emotions on that first day, the seemingly happy tears that she had wept in the changing room. They felt like more than happiness about a return to football.

Although, Frido couldn't be sure. Maybe Mapi just loved football more than anything else, a perfectly reasonable and realistic explanation to the emotions that were witnessed that day.

Ingrid knew it was more than that, more than just a return to football that had made her so happy. Because Ingrid knew Mapi, and while football was important to the Spaniard, it was nowhere near as important as her life outside of the sport: her friends, her family. Her daughter.

It was something that Ingrid was so drawn to. It was clear on the pitch how much she loved the sport, how she thrived when she was playing it. But outside of that... it was like she didn't play football.

Her apartment was like a sanctuary, a place cut off from the rest of the world where Isabel could live in naive happiness and Mapi could rest with her baby and her cat. It exuded happiness, bright colours and toys displayed, the fridge decorated with bits of scrap paper covered in a selection of scribbled lines. Mapi would draw Ingrid's attention over to the fridge when a new piece appeared, bragging about how her child was an artistic genius, how she would grow up to be just like her Mami.

She was so full of love for someone so small and it made Ingrid's heart weak, unable to fully comprehend the stark difference between Mapi at football and Mapi with Isabel.

She fell in love, she thought, with both versions of her.

With the one who would carelessly block dangerous shots, carefree and boisterous on the field, assertive and aggressive when she needed to be but always running off with a laugh afterwards. She lead the team in a way that even Alexia admired, the young players drawn to her uncanny ability to make everyone laugh.

She fell in love with the one who spoke in a childish voice, relishing in the never ending hugs and kisses that Isabel would provide, swinging her around in the park and never being more than a couple metres away from the baby that she loved so so much. A perfect mother with a perfect daughter, both so full of love for each other.

And Ingrid felt so lucky that she could see both sides of the Spaniard, that she could witness her around two things she loved so much and compare how differently she materialised her love for both of them.

But then she made her return to a competitive game, in Valencia with a perfect comeback.

Ingrid was so excited for her, happy to see her thriving on the field, a place she loved. She played brilliantly as well, quietening all the people who said she shouldn't be there, that she had spent too much time off.

She proved that she had, in fact, been that missing piece of Barcelona in their past two years of struggle, easily filling in the gap with her generational talent.

And the Norwegian was so proud, despite not knowing the whole story, not knowing all the challenges that Mapi had faced between the birth of Isabel and now. She knew enough to be proud and that is all that mattered.

She had smiled brightly at the Spaniard, walking towards her and pulling her into a hug ready to whisper her congratulations.

But Mapi had other plans, her words rendering Ingrid speechless as she walked away, back down the tunnel with Alexia's arm swung over her shoulders.

But the Norwegian felt frozen in time, unsure of what had just happened and why she said whatever she had just said.

She'd been pulled from her frozen state quickly by Frido, who had noticed the interaction and frowned.

It was easy for the Swede to recognise her best friend's crush, and also to recognise how it was so easily reciprocated by Mapi. She hadn't expected Mapi to say what she said to Ingrid, and was suddenly filled with overprotective and frustrated anger.

~~~~~~

Isabel had begun to miss Ingrid's presence after about a week. It was clear when Mapi took her out on her walks, her small head peering out of the pram, trying to spot the tall Norwegian with those warm and comfortable arms.

Mapi brushed it off every time, but it didn't help the pit in her stomach at all.

The Spaniard was lonely, she realised, and she had been since Isabel was born.

Sure, she had a person living with her, but there was only so much she could say to a baby so little without going crazy at the lack of response. Other than the word 'Mami', of course.

She was lonely before Ingrid, and it was only after she pushed the Norwegian away that she realised how she filled that hole so easily.

Conversation had fallen so easily between them and it filled the silences that Mapi had grown so used to as she lived her life with the baby. She enjoyed talking to someone about things that weren't about her grief, her baby.

She enjoyed talking about herself again, simultaneously getting to know Ingrid and  everything she stood for.

She fell for the Norwegian, quickly, but that wasn't hard for her to understand, it hadn't taken her long to realise it.

It was harder to realise that they couldn't be anything more than friends, that she had to push her away - the exact opposite to what she actually wanted to do. She knew Ingrid would be upset. That she'd be confused and angry.

But it's what she knew was right. At least it's what she thought was right.

She wasn't so sure anymore, her heart breaking a little bit more every time Isabel looked around for the Norwegian, her face falling at her absence over and over again.

"Ingrid!"

The lift doors opened to a sweaty Norwegian, headphones in and her eyes on her phone.

Isabel saw her first, Mapi's eyes also on her phone on the trip down.

Both of the adults looked up at each other, Ingrid almost immediately diverting her eyes down to Isabel who was beaming.

"Hello Is! I've missed you!" She smiled at Isabel, and Mapi's smile dimmed slightly.

It was a reminder of what she had pushed away, of everything she couldn't have.

The baby giggled happily, reaching her arms up to try and get Ingrid to lift her.

The Norwegian made eye contact with Mapi, silently checking if it was alright and the centre back nodded easily.

Ingrid tried to ignore the sadness in Mapi's eyes. Maybe the centre back did miss her. Maybe she did regret pushing her away.

Maybe there was a reason why she pushed her away, more than just to hurt the Norwegian.

She picked Isabel up easily and the baby fit perfectly on her hip, planting a kiss on her cheek and wrapping her arms around her neck.

She looked over at Mapi, who was still somewhat frozen by the elevator door.

"Mami! Ingrid." She pointed at the Norwegian. "Play!"

Mapi shook her head.

"No, Is. Ingrid can't come with us."

The baby frowned, tilting her head at Mapi.

"Why?"

"Because she's just been on a walk! She can't go on two."

The Spaniard's voice was weak and Isabel's lip trembled, her smile disappearing as she understood her mother's words.

"No!"

She began to cry and Mapi stood frozen on the spot, completely unsure of what to do.

She wasn't a bad mother, she was better than this. She knew how to calm her crying baby but for some reason she just couldn't move.

She bit back her own tears, refusing to let Ingrid see her cry, to see her so weak and helpless with her baby when she was supposed to be a strong and independent mother.

Ingrid let Isabel cry into her neck, rocking her softly and staring at a frozen Spaniard.

"It's fine, Mapi. I can come."

She frowned at her still frozen form, unsure how else she could deal with the situation.

Mapi didn't know either, but she nodded, somewhat misunderstanding Ingrid's offer when she shoved the pram over to her.

"I can't, I can't deal with this right now." Mapi felt hysterical, but she tried desperately to keep it together. "Please just take her, calm her down. She hates me, she hates me so much."

It wasn't true, obviously, because Isabel loved Mapi more than anything.

But Ingrid knew Mapi, and she knew she wouldn't listen to anything that she had to say in attempts to comfort her.

"I'll take her, come back in an hour or so and you sort yourself out, Mapi. She's confused, she doesn't hate you. She just got used to me and then you got rid of me and is confused about it all. She's only little. So go back to your apartment, calm yourself down and sort yourself out. I'll calm her down and bring her back in one piece."

Mapi nodded aggressively, stepping backwards into the closed lift doors, awkwardly pressing the button as Ingrid walked away with her still crying baby.

It was only when she reached her apartment again that everything hit her. The confusion, the guilt, the stress, the embarrassment.

And she cried. She let everything out as loud as she could because for the first time in so long she was alone in the apartment, no child to hear her cry, no friends to help her work through the emotions.

It never worked, either. Crying was the best way for Mapi to release everything, she realised and she took advantage of the empty apartment as she realised that she hadn't been able to cheer her own daughter up, she had passed off to her teammate as she cried.

She was weak, she was a terrible mother.

She couldn't do it anymore.

Luis would be disappointed.

Worse, Luis would be heartbroken.

And that's what she thought as she fell asleep, the tears tiring her eyes until they dropped closed, sending her off to a restless sleep on the sofa.

~~~~~~

"Wake up, Mapi."

She must have forgotten to lock the door because Ingrid had walked in as she slept and was now sat on the other side of the sofa.

Mapi's eyes snapped open, looking around in confusion before sinking back into herself as she realised it was not just a dream.

"Isabel is ok. She's asleep and I put her down in her cot. She stopped crying pretty quickly and was happy at the park. She fell asleep in her pram on the way back."

Mapi nodded, sitting up and wiping her eyes.

"You need to tell me what's going on."

The Spaniard frowned. There was a lot going on.

"Which bit?" She smiled weakly, faltering under the Norwegian's harsh gaze.

"Why you said what you said. Why you just froze when Isabel was crying, practically running away and letting me deal with it. Why you came up here and cried yourself to sleep. I deserve to know this. I at least deserve to know why you pushed me away so easily and so suddenly."

If there was a time that Mapi wished the floor would swallow her whole, it was right then and there. Because she wasn't prepared for this conversation, she didn't know how she was supposed to have it without breaking down all over again.

It wasn't an easy topic, talking about why she can't date which is what had caused the whole debacle. It opened the whole story about Luis and how Isabel was created.

And of all times, this night was the worst possible time for Mapi to speak about Luis. Right after she realised how disappointed he would be in her parenting, how sad he would be that his daughter was being raised by someone so incapable.

It was funny, really, how one tiny situation could change Mapi's entire perspective, how it could completely destroy any confidence she had about her parenting abilities.

She didn't want to talk about it, not at all. But Ingrid was right there, a judgemental yet somewhat concerned eye focused on the Spaniard who seemed to be struggling to form a sentence.

The silence lasted multiple minutes and Ingrid was about to speak again right before Mapi opened her mouth.

She didn't know what she was going to say, but she knew she needed to say something, so she did.

She started at the beginning, with Isabel's health issues and Ingrid had no idea where it was going.

Why did it matter that Mapi's best friend's wife was sick?

But very quickly, as Mapi spoke about their desires to become parents, everything began to fall into place.

And the Norwegian was horrified by the tragic story she was hearing, a lump in her throat forming as the mother lamented how she was the only option left to raise Isabel, how she was alone in her final trimester until Alexia came over two weeks later and found out that Luis had died, that her best friend had been left behind with his unborn baby, her life changed forever.

His genetics still growing inside her long after he took his final breaths.

Mapi didn't stop as her voice broke, moving away from the topic of Luis and onto how much Isabel meant to her, how much she worried that she would make a mistake, that her friends would have made such better parents than she did.

How she had to have full focus on raising Isabel and couldn't be distracted by anything - she couldn't be distracted by football in the beginning which is why she took so long to come back. How she can't be distracted by a girlfriend now, which is why she pushed Ingrid away.

Ingrid wiped a tear away as Mapi's fell freely, continuing to explain how she had been depressed but unable to get herself any help after the one disastrous trip to the psychologist.

How she felt incapable of unloading her issues onto others, only telling Alexia the necessary stuff to stop her from nagging.

"Luis would be so disappointed in me because I have ruined everything. I can't do anything by myself and I never should have agreed to keep her. I love her so much, I don't want to ruin her."

That was where the Spaniard stopped, seemingly overcome with emotion as she broke down into her hands, Ingrid quick to move to her side and pull her into a warm hug.

"You're so wrong, Mapi. So wrong. I've never heard anyone be more wrong in my life. You are the best mother Isabel could ask for and it hurts that you can't see that."

Mapi could only cry, too conflicted to even try and decide what was true.

"Ale said I needed to talk to you, to fix things. Because I don't want you to hate me and I definitely don't hate you. But Ingrid, we can't just be friends, you know that."

She looked up at the Norwegian, who easily noticed the anguish all over her face.

"Why don't we try? See where it takes us. We can figure it out together, Mapi, you don't have to do everything alone."

She nodded, trying to convince the both of them that they could try.

And Mapi nodded hesitantly.

"Isabel does like you."

Ingrid chuckled quietly, nodding.

"Not as much as she loves you. She was asking for you about 2 minutes after we left. You are so good to her."

Mapi smiled, leaning into Ingrid's embrace.

"I don't think I can be just friends with you, Ingrid. I think that's why I've been so upset."

Ingrid hummed in agreement, waiting for her to continue.

"I've been so worried about losing you and so worried about being distracted from Is. But I don't think I ever could be, I don't think you'd ever let me be."

The Norwegian chuckled.

"I don't think she'd ever let you, she loves the attention too much."

And just like that, Mapi knew.

Ingrid was the right person, the person Alexia had been going on about for years, since before Isabel was even considered.

"And Mapi?"

Mapi looked up, her eyes meeting Ingrid's.

"I don't think I could ever just be friends with you either."

She smiled, placing her hand around Mapi's neck and drawing her close.

Mapi leaned in closer and waited for Ingrid to finally close that small gap.

And then Ingrid's lips were on hers, a promise, a declaration of love.

And Mapi made another promise to herself, right then and there.

She would never let Ingrid go.

~~~~~~

right so that’s the end! hope you’ve enjoyed so far!

not the end of Isabel Leon because I already have a few requests for her that have been thought about or planned (some of them)

I also have the blurb of her at the Olympics (2032) doing her sport that nobody has guessed so I’ll give you an obvious clue - it’s an action sport lol

I’m considering putting her in something else too but they’re like polar opposite disciplines so let me know if you think yes or no

and please send me requests because I want to write more about Isabel!

thanks for reading and for the love on this story, you’ve made me cry from all the nice messages

have a good day :)

[withonly-sweetheart]

Starry Eyed Singer

You're a scientist, not a singer, but when the newest experiment takes a liking to not only you, but your voice, you might just be the key to finding the rest of them. And although he's stuck behind the confines that keep him away from you, that hide the songs that he knows could have you throwing yourself into the water for him, he won't hurt you. After all, how could he? When you're his starry eyed singer.

a/n: first lets ignore the fact there's only dialogue at the last bit im so tired of this literally its been two whole ass weeks I NEVER GO PAST A DEADLINE IM GONNA TWEAK buuuut i really really like this idea i just think that for a theme, this is short and sweet enough for me! i would definitely want to expand on this as a whole, and i couldn't resist adding a dead dove ending <3 (im a creepy mf ik)

find the bad ending here...

alright now its time for credits

@bunnivievve - this is literally her au. like seriously i took everything from her analysis sheet like i would not be here without you. i salute you fine woman you are the reason i wake up and write siren leon. + thank you sm for ur hc i hope it's fitting to what you were thinking!!! THISSSSS LITERALLY THIS IS WHAT INSPIRED ME SMMM <333

@larvamars - help im sorry for mentioning you but i kinda took the art of leon looming over the scientist in that one piece of urs to heart... yeah... thinkin abt that while writing this really helped <3 so tysm just crediting people where credit is due!!

@sirenhub <- ngl i thought of you while writing this the WHOLE time i was tryna be freaky... get it bc ur name is siren... also the dead dove ending is dedicated to you my love... please drown me to the bottom of the ocean.. <333

@vampiricgf <- KITAA WE'RE TWINNING SO HARD ON THIS ONE... ur au is better than mine i fear but its ok this is a connection i couldn't pass up

(psst. if i didnt mention u in this one artist moots TRUST you're definitely in one of the other three.)

tw: descriptions of loss and grief, reader's mother is dead, luis angst, tiny mention of smut but nun too bad, brother i can't write anything without making it sound like shakespeare and not in a good way...

wc: 7.3k

The pearl of the ocean. He’s watched every wretched person who’s confined him here, with their white coverings and spectacles resting on their too sharp noses, their awkward gait and their irregular size. And not one was interesting enough to keep him intrigued for more than a day.

And then you appeared in his life, a presence uninvited, a treasure undeserving of his touch, not that he would be able to get his fingers on you either way. Your eyes were so lively, restless, sparkling like stars through the clear material that separates you.

If only you could hear him. He was sure just a moment of his voice would be enough to ensure your enrapture, enough to ensnare you like they had caught him off the coast. His colony had warned him enough times of all the dangers the shore brought, yet something brought him back.

You are alike in that sense, hunger consuming you from the inside out, fatal if not for the restraints that were easier for him to hold than you. He can feel your eyes on him as he languidly floats through the somewhat roomy tank they house him in, temporary, of course, but for three months he’s been stuck behind this insufferable, invisible surface that sets the barrier between you both.

A creature of the sea and a creature of the land. He entertains quiet thoughts of you at night, when his dreams should be fitful, longing to be free in the ocean, yet the yearning for you is stronger. He assumes it is mutual, why else would you act the way you do? Enamored, entranced, elated enough to send shoals of fish skittering through his stomach.

But he mistakes fascination for infatuation. 

<><><><>

You cast Luis a sideways glance, a strange haze between you, air infecting what used to come so naturally, seeping into your skin, sealing your lips shut as if your banter was planned and you’re finally speechless.

His fingers flick the lighter lid open, then back, setting a rhythm that should be comfortable enough to make up for your unnatural silence, but it only serves to make things worse. You resist the urge to bristle when he finally speaks.

“You really don’t know why you’re here,” he murmurs, and you would’ve missed it, hidden under the whirring gears vibrating in the ground if not for the fact you’ve been expecting it. 

You scoff. “What do you think?”

“I think that you must’ve done something.” He sighs and leans forward, tense in every aspect except for his mouth, brown butter molding to the cherry of his lips that purse, abandoning the man you knew. “Why leave both of us in here? Alone?”

His tone is suggestive, and you might’ve dismissed it as playful under other circumstances, but you know exactly what he’s doing—making a fool out of you. 

“Tell me,” you insist. Luis leans back, the lamp in the hallway shining through the window, bronzing the copper planes of his face. He links his hands together and rests them palm upward on his forehead, closing his eyes. 

After a few moments of silence, he cracks one of them open, narrowed as soon as he realizes you’re still watching, still waiting for an answer he’s far too reluctant to hand over.

“Impatient, are you?”

“You’re the one who fucked everything up! If you had just listened when I said the radar was, what, three feet off, we could’ve caught it just fine! But no, guess who has to play the hero?” you seethe. You feel your heartbeat thrum under where your fingers lie on your wrist, pulsing like a warning. Back off.

“Are you a senior scientist?” He quirks an eyebrow, challenging you to a fight you’ll surely lose, but when have you ever backed down to him? “I didn’t think as much.”

That pet name irks you enough to spark a retort, one you didn’t even think about before it’s past your lips and hanging in the air between you.

“I’ll rip that badge off your shirt before they get here if you don’t tell me why the fuck we’ve both been stuck in here for three hours!” Your voice is level to an extent, level like you’ve never thought to be calm.

His arms fall down to his knees, elbowing the meat of his thighs, eyes drawn back to you. “Are you always this irritable?” A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, curving them upward. “Or am I just lucky to be sitting next to a beautiful woman with the temper to match?”

You scowl, unable to summon the grin that you wish would appear in your mind. Seeing that you aren’t as amused at him at his little joke, the smile slips right off his face, and that sullen expression usurps his features.

“They found it,” he admits, albeit quietly, as if he’s afraid someone will hear. “Right after we left.”

“They… did?”

“Mhm,” he confirms, voice low and throaty. His lips part and you lean forward slightly, eager to hear his elaboration. “A new project is underway. Experiment 003. And you’ll be-”

The door swings open, and the white light that bathes you isn’t a good sign. 

<><><><>

You don’t understand the solemn look on Luis’ face. Shouldn’t he be happy for you? You actually got the assignment you had requested, for once, and with what was once thought to be a creature only found in stories. And yet he stands leaning in the doorway to the lab room, gazing at the water.

It’s been two weeks, and not once have you actually seen this supposed creature. You’re starting to think this is all some elaborate joke Luis has crafted to keep your enthusiasm fresh, but he knows that your praise and effort aren’t akin to fruit and vegetables.

“No progress?” he offers weakly, not once making eye contact with you.

“Why don’t you try?” you reply bitterly. It’s been a hot minute since you’ve gotten any quality sleep, and the laboratory’s coffee runs alongside your blood in your veins, which bubbles back up in the raw coffee beans that swirl on your tongue as you await his response.

“Ouch.” Luis pretends to wince, seemingly hurt. “You might hurt my feelings, chiquita.”

“Good.”

“You can insult me all you want,” he says, damn that clever tongue of his, “but you’re pretty cute when you're mad. Makes it hard for me to take you seriously, mi amor.”

“Why are you like this?” you grit out, sweeping the papers off your desk to slam your clipboard down, crisp paper untouched. Can’t take notes on something you’ve never seen.

“Like what?” he asks, tilting his head. “Ever charming?”

“I was thinking something like bipolar,” you groust. “You’re never just one person, are you? What else are you hiding from me?”

He puts his hands up in defense as you stalk towards him, but he waits until you’re a step away to respond. “Hiding? Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muses.

You tilt your head up just as he tilts his head down, and you lock eyes with him, the searing honey dripping from his eyes to yours, cooling quickly enough to create threads of sweet ice connecting you both.

How it feels to long for something you’ll never have.

Your eyes flit to the band on his ring finger.

<><><><>

The cool glass finds your fingertips, aching from restless typing emails back and forth, persisting that you can handle this one. Your encounter with Luis has left you determined to prove you can do it without him, that you’re perfectly capable of ignoring him in the hallways, in the lunchroom, pretending not to hear him call your name across the lab.

But the blue glow dapples your face as you stare into the mirror on your desk, angled towards the picture of you and Luis, acceptance letters crumpled in your hands with your arms over each other’s shoulders, eyes glazed.

One too many drinks that night led to peppering his face with kisses, sliding those glasses off his face, admiring how pretty he looked all tipsy and breathless underneath you, watching all those cocky retorts disappear under your fingers. 

It’s hard to get over someone you’ll never stop seeing, and you’ve got a better chance of being fired than retiring early. Besides, if you love your job, you’ll suffer through anything to keep it, right? Even if that means forcing smiles at his open face.

With no one to console you, a locked door and curtains dressing the windows, you let the tears flow freely, wishing that the water only a few inches away would somehow absorb the tears, make you seem stronger than you really are. Somber music tinkles away to an end in the background, leaving you in obsolete silence that seems to swallow you whole.

A tap on the glass. Suspended motionless just beyond the barrier, electric blue undertones of his skin mesmerizing, highlighting elegant fins and swirling markings. Deep azure pools that lock onto yours, hair framing his face like a snapshot in time.

"Holy shit, shit, shit!" you blurt out loud before you can help it. Your pulse races to life, drinking in every feature you can, drawing an image that will never be up to scale; whoever can put his flowing, inky locks to delicate fins that frame his lithe, powerful frame into words should be standing in your place, because you sure can’t.

You swivel around, hyping yourself up even more at the fact that you’re the first scientist in the building to see him with your own eyes, fingers curled around your clipboard as you shuffle back.

But you’ve dotted your name and scribbled down the date only to jerk your eyes back to the empty space, as if he was never there. Only one piece of evidence remains, and even that flutters down to the depths you cannot see.

An iridescent scale.

<><><><>

Your voice is croaky from even more lack of sleep, hours of waiting by the glass in vain; the frog in your throat leaps out to greet Luis when he saunters over, leaning on his elbow that rests on the table, eyes darting from side to side to confirm what he already knows from ten minutes of absconded silence - you’re alone in the breakroom.

“Well?” he urges, eyes slicing down to check his watch. “Make it quick, mi amor. I’ve got a meeting in ten minutes.”

My love. How ironic that he still calls you that, it must slip from his mind on days like this. “Isn’t today your rest day-”

“Well?” he repeats, more urgently this time. And under his persistence, you’re less sure of your theory than before.

Your teeth pierce the chapped skin of your bottom lip, cracking it open, savoring the iron tang of blood that flows freely, even though you know it’ll come back to bite you in the ass later. The sting calms you.

“Experiment 003,” you begin, digging your fingernails into your palm for a split second before forcing your wavering hand to push the files towards him. “The mermaid-”

“Merman,” he corrects quickly, before his eyes go slightly wider than before and raises his hands in defense, again, as if his open palms will stop the silent words of hurt that batter his skin from your eyes.

“Merman,” you repeat, continuing, “isn’t really a merman.” 

“What?” Luis’ eyebrows fly up and he claws at the folder, flipping through the papers before staring back up at you in disbelief. “You have no evidence to support this!”

“But I saw him,” you insist, admitting what you had told yourself you weren’t going to reveal to him. How is it that his face still gets your tongue tied in your mouth, coaxing secrets without him even knowing? “And… it displays none of the traits found in the fisherman’s tales.”

“They’re all old men,” he says dismissively, and his nonchalance, once again, only serves to irk you and fuel your need to prove him wrong. “So what if they couldn’t see right?”

“But—”

“No buts,” he says with a tone of finality, and it doesn’t occur to you to speak back this time. The point’s been lost in your first plea, and the honey bees descend from his tongue to spike you everywhere, scorn you for trying to doubt him. “Just get back to work, and don’t bother me anymore, señorita. I have work to do.”

You’ve never been dismissed by him before, so when he sinks into his hands, rubbing circles into your eyes, you don’t move a muscle, wondering if there will be any further instruction.

But he lifts his chin, so slowly that his gaze sears everywhere that it touches until that flame gets put out by the bucket of boiling water bubbling to life in his eyes. That dull demeanor lying over irritation lies bare on his face, soaking through like wet newspaper, ink unintelligible but meaning clear. 

Get out.

<><><><>

It’s hard to find something more consistent than the steady lapping of water, kissing the top of the glass where it connects with your ceiling. You stare into the abyss, willing the creature to appear from its depths, but where the flowing water meets your demands, the being does not.

Your thoughts begin to wander. How exactly had you called it— no, him?

“The subject is male,” you hear Luis’ voice ring in your ear, as if a ghost of a person still standing with you, a shadow of what you hoped could be true. That day, there was no sound in the room except for the steady current of your tears washing your cheeks for the umpteenth time that week.

It’s probably not that. After all, it would take a creature with keen ears and a sharper mind to hear not only through the glass, but to recognize the pain that even the person who causes it cannot identify. But you’re desperate.

So you conjure up the strongest memory you have, one that surpasses all levels of guilt and anger and pain to the highest level of sorrow you’ve ever felt. The night your mother died.

Your eyes stay glued to the simple white cloth adorning her body, cupping her gently like the beings from above have descended to hold her in their heavenly hands, the idea that if you keep your gaze away from her, she’ll long for it once more and return to you.

But as much as you know she loves you, she remains still. And when you drag your reluctant eyes to grace her pale, limp hands, rubbing some warmth into her spindly fingers, fingers that fed you and dressed you. Arms that hugged you when you finished elementary school, kept your grades up with a raise that was never a promise, only an empty threat.

And the eyes that sparkled like yours, now dead. How similar you look to her, even now, hollow cheeks and irises that lose their cheer, wilting flowers like your dress that billows in the wind as you stand with your feet in the sea, grounding yourself against the waves that threaten to pull you away.

Why couldn’t you stay? Why did she abandon you in a cruel, motherless world that you know is common yet feels like a situation that will only ever apply to your pitiful self? Why does nothing last, if only for a fleeting moment in which you light her pyre and watch the flames engulf her until she’s nothing but a pile of ashes.

Before the wind can steal her away with its greedy fingers, you sweep her into a vase.

And that vase will stay in the second wooden shelf, the sturdiest one right above your desk, two inches away from the ledge, pressed against the chipped paint of your wall. You will never let her go. She will always be with you; in one way or another.

You’ll make sure of that.

Guilt isn’t the right word. There is no word to describe the torrents of how disgusted you are at yourself, and if there is, there shouldn’t be. You’ve confined your mother to these lands instead of accepting the peace she deserves.

And suddenly, observing the creature doesn’t seem as important as before. There are more pressing issues at hand, issues that might have something to do with your current lack of luck, as of late.

What you miss as you scamper around the room is the eyes that watch you from the darkness, sharp enough to crackle fire that would burn this whole place to the ground if he wished, but he waits. 

In silence as you hastily grab your bag from the coat rack, abandoning your jacket. He knows you’ll be back from this one action and relaxes his tense body.

As long as you come back.

<><><><>

Aquamarine darkness envelops the far side of the room, if the building you’re in even resembles a room. It must end somewhere, especially since the peacock lights flash back in a rhythmic pattern, always circling back to where you’re planted.

Rooted to the peaty soil that squelches around your rain boots that were required before stepping into… wherever your current location was. Of course, the admin team is never happy with what they have, and apparently one subject to prod and poke wasn’t enough.

So you’re sent in here, to gain more information, the rookie’s always the guinea pig for anything, right? To find the rest of them, if there are any. You’re doubting this idea as a whole theory itself, because what if he’s one of a kind? Special.

But that something gets closer and closer to you. Your eyes have become accustomed to the darkness, adapting to the shapes that spark your vivid imagination, the murky water swirling everywhere the inky mass touches. 

Eight feet and four inches is intimidating enough to scan behind the safety of your reinforced glass walls, bulletproof and all, and you’re not reassured by the idea that although you shouldn’t be scared, you are.

Only once have you seen him through the water, and that was enough to spark your interest. The flame of curiosity burns falsely in your stomach, washed out by the waves of fear. You feel like nothing but a small fish at his intense gaze, a gaze that frightens you, and it must show on your expression.

Within a matter of seconds he backs away, perhaps sensing your discomfort, and you realize that your initial hypothesis must’ve been correct; he can feel others' emotions. You wonder how this works for a creature that cannot communicate, at least not with you.

Something flashes through his eyes, storm clouds and thunder alike, and a low hiss pushes its way through his canine teeth, an attribute you hadn’t noticed until the sound hits your ears.

It is strange, the look on his face, with his hair moist and clinging to his neck as he bobs further away, weaving between the speckles of moss that float from your little island to him, gifts or warnings, you don’t know.

He takes them as warnings, it seems, with his tense, hostile expression that seems to appear from thin air, staring at you tersely, somewhat like a dolphin or a seal at the aquarium before dipping back into the water without a sound, silence filling the area where he was.

And although you’re perfectly aware that your fear has not yet subsided from crashing against your lungs, you admit to yourself that now that he’s gone, you miss the thrill.

Who would’ve thought you’d become so daring, hm?

<><><><>

But wait, it gets worse. You had assumed this was a one time thing, a test run with a temporary guinea pig that happened to be the rookie of the lab, and although you weren’t too happy with the arrangement, you were perfectly content with the idea of admiring him from a distance, especially after such a close encounter.

Yet no one gives you a heads up or a warning before you’re shoved into the same room again, fear licking at your spine as those flashing lights proceed further through the water. And after a while, the initial horror bypasses your system and you grow used to the thick silence hanging in the air, mingling with the musty scent of swamp water.

You don’t know what they’ve fed him this week. Maybe they forgot to clean his tank. Whoever’s in charge of his wellbeing obviously fucked up the one time you take a break to visit friends touring the city, because when you return, rested and fresh, ready to succeed, something’s wrong

You’ve never noticed it before, but there are scales scattered on his neck, a light blue color, tile shaped as if a button longing to be pressed. Those are the northern lights transferred from the sky to the sea, plastered onto him, hanging loosely so his gills can pulse. Open, shut, as you inhale sharply and exhale swiftly.

They light up in assortments of azure, carribean shades of the murky water, yet so much more vibrant. And as if the thrill wasn’t enough to make its fingers around your neck and restrict your breath, holding your silence as if the air would scare him away, he starts to sing.

Vertigo overwhelms your senses the moment his euphonic voice escapes from those lips, marinated on his tongue, deep and resonant. A dizzying feeling that causes you to stumble to your knees, red dots sparkling all along your vision.

And through the haze, you swear you can see him smirk, the corner of his lip twisting upward, as if this was the intended effect, like you’re supposed to feel as if you’re about to throw up and dance and cry and jump for joy, all at once.

Guess what else you were right about?

He’s no merman.

You forget the word, the term to describe the hooks cast into the sea to lure unsuspecting victims, hooks that are merely sweet, velvety tones that are all hollow truths, a desire to be craved and a hunger that can never be satiated.

A warning to be reckoned, to be heard, to be feared.

A siren.

<><><><>

“What the actual fuck?” You restrain your voice to keep yourself from screeching, which you know you would do if you were alone, which you never truly are with the walls that hear everything, along with throwing yourself at him and wrestling him to the floor. 

“You said it yourself, he’s a siren! And you could’ve just died!” Luis’ hands are twisted his hair, madly clutching at their roots, and his concern for you is so profoundly surprising it sparks a laugh from you.

“I was fine, thanks,” you snap back, drumming your fingers on the table as you stare directly at his face, a face that seems crazy to love now. So many times you wonder what could’ve been, and now you’re wasting time sitting here with this fool.

“You. Could’ve. Died.” Luis accentuates each word with the ending sound as a growl, as if his voice will instill some sense of security in you, but you find yourself getting burning as he continues, “How could you even think about doing something so stupid?”

“Me?” Your voice has found a perch high in your vocal range, and it won’t come down. “Whose idea was this in the first place?” You scan his face for any hint of remorse, but there is none, and nothing in his expression offers an answer.

“Mi amor-”

“Stop fucking calling me that! You don’t get to say that like- like we still have something! Do you even know what love is?” Luis’ eyes go stony, a boulder pushed up the wrong side of the hill, and you’re not strong enough to keep it up. 

And it all comes crashing down.

“Love?” A dry chuckle erupts from his mouth, expression conforming to both disbelief and pity, both uncalled for and unwanted. “Excuse me? Of course I know what love is, but it’s a little hard to love someone that’s constantly putting themselves in danger!”

His accent is sinking further and further into his words with his newfound irritation, irritation aimed at you for no apparent reason. Maybe something’s going on at home, but does that give him the authority to take it out on you? Hell no.

You stand, far too loudly, and everyone watches you get ready to make your exit without another word, because what are you meant to say to something like that? Are you so unrecognizable, within less than half a year? How easy is it to leave your old self behind?

The one that clung to him. Is that his problem?

You brush past his chair on the way out, and out of the corner of your narrowed eyes, you watch him twist the band on his finger, flicking his fingers back and forth, an absent habit he’s had since your sorority years.

But before you can pass him completely, he glances behind him and rolls his chair back, maneuvering it to avoid your feet. You’re about to tell him to fuck off when he draws his eyes back up, lingering on your lips, and you know what he’s thinking.

“Wait,” he says quietly, voice soft and barely audible, but he’s stopped rolling his chair back to tilt his head up towards you.

“What?” you snap, at first unknowingly but strangely reveling in the way he flinches at your harshness, flitting back to the day he had dismissed your concerns so flagrantly. You justify your actions by determining that he deserves it. His eyes darken again as a frown puckers his lips and the space between his eyebrows. 

“Don’t… just… don’t leave, please…” he stutters, his usual confidence nowhere to be found, struggling with the words before speaking again. “Can we… talk?”

“No, because there’s nothing to talk about. Besides, I have work to do.”

He lets out a small sigh at your response, to the reference of that event, irritation fluctuating in his tone. “Work? You’ve been working for four months, and you’ve found absolutely nothing.” And so the truth slips out, whether branching from his will or against it. This is how he really feels, huh?

"You don't get to tell me that." you mutter. "I'm the one documenting him, not you. You sit in your little room behind the glass, perfectly safe, and not once have you thought about swapping our roles. You don't love me, and I honestly have no idea why you even bother to lie to me about it."

Luis grits his teeth, his irritation and anger clear in his eyes, those eyes that were once pools of admiration sinking into the depths of everything you thought was between you. "What are you talking about? That's not true, I... of course I love you!" Then he rises from his chair, taking a step towards you, as if you’d allowed that.

You step back, pressing against the door. Your fingers creep behind your back to the handle and his eyes flicker to them, to the hand that’s grasping it so tightly it goes whiter than his face as he retreats to the table, pale with horror.

“I wouldn’t… ever hurt you,” he murmurs.

“Then why did you marry her?” you ask, voice soft. It’s a question you’ve been tossing in your mind, a simple game of catch that started grabbing rules from all sorts of games, pickleball and why he chose her, badminton and how you could’ve done better, volleyball in the victory in which his wife revels, and in which you wallow, losing yet another thing you loved.

“Because you said it was temporary!” he grumbles, sliding his teeth over his bottom lip, refusing to make the very same eye contact he was practically begging for an hour ago, in this very meeting room where you would stare at your department head as she provided strict instructions, catching Luis’ fleeting glances at your side profile.

“Isn’t that all we ever were?” you whisper. “Temporary?”

The air shatters between you. Finally, the unspoken truth that you both have carried for so long in your hearts is out, and it feels like a burden has been lifted off your shoulders. You can see it in his expression, however horrified, there’s some form of acceptance. He’s known this for as long as you have.

“What… happened to you? To us?” he asks quietly, looking at you like you’re a stranger, fractured parts of you discarded behind you like a broken mirror, one and the same but reflecting another person.

The door clicks open, squeaking as it swings to show you away, to the exit, finally leaving behind what you thought you could never let go of. But you pause before you leave, entertaining his question. When you have your answer, you don’t hesitate to deliver it.

“Sometimes you lose people. And there’s nothing you can do about it.” 

<><><><>

As the rerun comes through, cracked on the cheap speaker, fading quickly, you waltz around your room, feeling serene enough in the moment, losing yourself to the melody. How many hours have you wasted soaring through the skies in your office, only to plummet back down like a shot bird when you acknowledge the stack of papers spawning on your desk?

But when the hard day’s stresses melt away to the sway of your hips and your however offkey voice, no one is there to judge you. Luis isn’t chastising you about anything, and it’s good enough for you.

When the chorus swells, you open your mouth and belt out the lyrics, hoping the grainy walls can contain your voice, but the volume seems obnoxious, even for you. That’s when you notice the shadow on the floor towering over you, and you spin around.

Your eyes are glued to his mouth, to the words that are achingly pure and smooth, somehow heard through the glass. Illuminated by the tank lights, ethereal tones blending perfectly with the recording, enhancing it in a way you’d never heard. 

Raw emotion, the longing in his voice, however foreign to you, the curve of his accent, words you’ve never heard. All so new to you, chills racing down your spine, tickling at your back.

And when the song crests, his unearthly high notes soar with a beauty strong enough to bring tears, tears that you have to hold back in case someone were to walk in. When he seals his mouth with a smile—a private, intimate thing that feels like it belongs to you, you’re sufficiently spellbound, the world ceasing to exist.

His eyes flash in the water, flitting behind you, to the rattling of your door, and only after you’ve twisted over your shoulder to verify there’s no one there does he choose to make his exit. You see the corner of his tail flick, you hope in temporary goodbye, before you close your eyes and replay his voice in your head.

Over, and over, and over again, until all you can think about is him. How wonderful would it be if he was real, hm? You see him as an illusion now, you suppose, because how do you ever know something is truly real before you can feel it under your fingertips?

And when the voice is gone, fading from your mind into the echoes of your room, vibrations clamoring to bury the sweet sound that you long for now that it’s not with you anymore, you realize there is something you’ve been doing wrong.

Something that you must fix right away. Someone you’ve kept for far too long, yet another person you’ve lost and tried to bring back.

Your mother.

<><><><>

The ocean is trying to draw you in again, rhythmic waves pooling at your feet, urging you to come sleep in its embrace, take an everlasting nap to the lullaby of the water. But you’re not so easily fooled. You remember all you’ve lost, all you’ve regained, and how you’ve been forced to let everything go.

Not for your gain, but for theirs. You suppose scientific curiosity was not what you were chasing this entire time. Your resignation letters were turned in promptly, along with an anonymous report to the people you knew you could trust to shut down what is undoubtedly an illegal operation.

Will Luis be caught in the crossfire? You’re sure of it, and although you’ll never stop caring for the man you first loved, only shreds of compassion remind, and even those shreds are not enough to bail him out. 

You are far more concerned for the experiment, hope that he survives. If there’s anything you’ve learned during your time at the laboratory, it’s that no matter what branch of government, no one is merciful to anything different.

So you call upon all the gods watching, if there are any, and pray to them for forgiveness. Plead to them for mercy, and spin the lid off the vase that you’ve seen so many times, staring at it absentmindedly while studying, unable to understand a concept without your mother to explain it.

But like with all things and people, you’ve learned to live without her. And you’ve kept her spirit with you for far too long, haunting you in dreams, dreams she shouts your name in, screaming for peace. 

You break those shackles with a gentle toss, keeping the vase cradled in your arms as the ashes pour out into the water. Taking a step back to avoid any sticking with you, you dig your feet back into the dry sand, watching the dark particles disappear into the clear water.

She is free. Your mother is finally free.

A high pitched call returns your initial sob, and you swipe at your face, bleary eyed and trying to get a good look at what it could’ve been. The assumption it could be a dolphin has you reaching behind you for your bag, shuffling through its contents, pictures of you and your mother. You will not abandon those, for memories are precious, you know this well.

But when you bring your eyes back to the sea, you see a humanoid figure in the distance, raising their hand in greeting to you. Tawny hair that reflects the descending sun, a simple white shirt, gloriously unbuttoned, and khaki beige shorts.

You do not recognize him, and so out of fear, you retreat further and further into your backyard, all thoughts of admiring the sunset gone, as the man approaches. You reach for your stuff as you stumble backwards, never taking your eyes off of him and this plays in your favor.

Everything about him is so different, so foreign to you, and when he speaks, his voice is raspy, and you feel like a tourist all over again, in a city where you don’t belong. You don’t deserve this, to be standing here.

You lost him, right? But you could never mistake those eyes.

And now he’s human. There are no scales, no gills, no affront to his identity, one and the same as you, and yet he feels so different. You recognize his eyes, they haven’t changed from their cerulean blue, orbs crafted from the sea itself, forged by Poseidon’s hand, a statue in the hands of the gods, but so much is missing.

The raven feathers of his hair that would’ve looked stunning in the night, now out of place and far too vibrant against the mellow shades slowly darkening, becoming more somber. 

Twinkling lights strung in the space where the muscle stretches as he twists behind him, as if checking the sea, now gone dim and dissolved into the pale, unsullied skin of his neck.

You suppose you should be happy his voice hasn’t changed. With just one word, he lulls you back to him, and you can’t remember thinking of the differences between the experiment you had so vigorously studied and the man standing in front of you, not to be studied, but to be loved.

“Hi.” He reaches up, ruffles the back of his head, as if that will rattle out all the words spinning around in his mind, mirroring your own turmoiled thoughts. 

“Hi.” You mimic his actions, running sharp nails against the side of your scalp, failing to push stray strands away from your face. Through your hair, you peer at him, the sun long gone behind him, and parts of him are hidden again, like you’re hiding pieces of him from your conscious mind, fearing losing him again.

Most mystifying of all was how right it feels to have him standing right in front of you, finally equal, aside from the few inches that he has on you. Those depths of ocean blue lingering in his eyes grounds you, realizing how many times you’ve looked into those same eyes, wondering exactly what he’s thinking of.

Now you can know. And you’re not about to pass up the opportunity and let fear engulf you like you’ve let it usurp your mind so many times before.

"It's still you in there, isn't it?" you ask softly.

He smiles, and your heart skips at the familiar gesture, a smile you’ve unsurprisingly missed. "It is. I wanted to see you again."

"But how? How’d you… do this? And why come back?" You step closer, drinking in each subtle nuance of his new appearance. It’s appropriate for him, nothing too flashy, blending into the background. Aside from that halo of blond hair pressed to his forehead, slick with salt water.

“You freed me,” he says quietly, eyes searching your body, as if he’s trying to ingrain an image of you into his head. You did the same, not too long ago. But there was a need for it then, and no need for it now.

Reaching out tentatively, you trace the contour of his neck, half expecting to feel residual traces of his missing bioluminescence. Only warm skin meets your fingers, and a low sigh from his lips, and now that he’s here, under your touch, you know that he’s real. Not just for your sanity, but in reality, as well.

“You don’t owe me anything,” you say, just to clarify, because you assume the last thing you need is to owe a mythical sea creature. “We’ll call it even since you didn’t eat me.” He barks a soft laugh, a seal-like sound, before lacing your fingers with his onto his cheek, pressing your hand further into his skin.

 "I changed so I could be with you without barriers. So we could truly understand one another." He gazes meaningfully into your eyes. "If you'll have me."

“I don’t even know your name,” you say, breathless, because haven’t you expected all of your loved ones to come back to you just like this, before inevitably accepting it’ll never happen? And now it is.

“My name?” That goddamn smirk, whether he is able to communicate or not, whether he’s human or not, tells you all you need to.

“Hm?”

“Leon.”

“Leon,” you test out, rolling the name on your tongue, causing him to scrunch up his nose.

“What? You do not like it?”

“No, no,” you say, with a chuckle. “It suits you.”

His expression relaxes, frown vanishing as he pulls you closer, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder as he takes your other hand. A familiar tune thrums through your ear, reaching your brain at supersonic speeds, cruising into your blood. The first song he ever sang for you, and now both the memory and his voice seem so far away compared to this moment.

A single moment. Suspended in time, lovers finally reunited, pair after pair failing like incorrect puzzle pieces until now, you’ve found the one. 

And this time, you’re never letting go.

<><><><>

The stars arrange themselves in Leon’s eyes, constellations spelling out a story as you gaze down at him wholeheartedly, loving him with all your spirit and throwing caution to the wind. 

His gaze flickers from time to time, like if he truly blinks, you’ll be gone with the night breeze, a stray leaf on the sand, misplaced. 

“Did you like being a siren?” Leon’s eyes squeeze shut, head shifting on where it lies in your lap, hand creeping onto your knee.

“It’s all I’ve ever known,” he says timidly. “But you showed me more. I didn’t want to hurt people anymore after seeing you.”

“Me?” Your laugh is soft, melodious to his ears, and it soothes a little bit of the ache that has been forming since the day you arrived at the laboratory. “How’d you even find me?”

“Your mother,” he replies, voice soft. “I sensed her, and with her came you. And somehow, my father obliged in my wishes to… abandon my colony.”

“Abandon?” You quirk an eyebrow in concern.

“I can never return,” he says, but his tone is light and airy, unconvincingly so. “But I found that I would give the sea, my family, for you, even if it’s all I’ve ever known. There is nothing left for me there.”

“But you shouldn’t have,” you whisper back. “Give up all that, for me? You could’ve just visited once in a while… I wouldn’t have minded.”

“And yet I would find myself longing for your touch, even on the days that all seemed well, the ocean’s beauty is but a teardrop in comparison to yours.” Ever the charmer.

“You don’t… regret it?” Leon shakes his head.

“How could I? What part of my life would I regret if I gave something up to spending even a fraction of it with you? All those days, from the sun rising to the moon rising, and you were right there, even if you weren’t under my fingers.”

“You were beautiful,” you admit. “But…”

“And I suppose all along,” he continues, “I was truly just bait for my colony. It is better that I have left them, better to leave them safe where they are happy. Where I am now happy, with you, with your beautiful face and pretty voice.”

“Pretty voice?” You flush, hoping you can mask it as an abnormal overheating technique. He doesn’t seem to notice. “Really?”

“You always look so lovely when you sing,” he muses. “Sing a song for me, please?”

You don’t know what brings you to actually do it. Is it the warmth of his hair splayed out on your thighs, or his eager expression as his eyes drag upward, flitting to your lips. You hum a tune and instantly feel at ease, perhaps you should’ve pursued a life of music.

Music. It doesn’t sound as absurd as it did throughout high school and college, when you scorned the same people who have now grown famous for their voices. You saw them as lazy, when you should’ve seen them as talented.

You hold out a note, gazing towards the sea, wondering if your mother is watching you right at this moment. You wonder if she would be content with everything you’ve done in your life, if she’s forgiven you enough to let you have this peace. The peace you once denied her.

Leon’s approval comes in a hum of his own, snapping you out of your thoughts. His hand reaches upward, trailing your cheek before he tilts his head up and you lean forward and kiss him, and the seconds rush by far too quickly before he pulls away, lips already quite red, and the corner of his mouth ticks upward, exposing the pearl white of his grin.

“Just as perfect as the last time,” he murmurs, “my starry eyed singer.”

[tarantulasnot]

Please bless us with Luis smut fam

BET!!! I literally love you so much you've revived me. (He's going to be a cocky sub because I said so)

Content warning: oral (m and f receiving), hair pulling, unrealistically sensitive Luis, he's a sub but he's not a total bitch, but he kinda is, dom reader, deepthroat/fellatio, Leon is mentioned

He's so fucking cocky. Luis Serra never failed to drive you up the wall the entire time you and Leon are looking for the president's daughter. If you're killing religiously motivated villagers, his disgustingly smooth voice will resonate behind you. "You sure you don't need my help, Princesa?" Sure enough, you loathed the way the Spanish rolls off his tongue in such a beautiful way. He was a masterpiece of a man if it weren't for that personality of his.

Although, you can proudly say he looked rather nice handcuffed, following you around. Powerless. "Soo, Princesa." That fucking nickname again. "Sancho isn't around now, y'know." It's true. He'd gone into the church to find Ashley while you and the prisoner stayed outside of the doors, on guard. "So how about we have a little fun now that he's gone, hm?" You shake your head, placing a hand on the upper bridge of your nose. "Forget about it, Serra. I don't have time for your shit." His clever grin only grew wider. "Can't help flirting with a pretty woman in uniform." He shrugged, and the Spaniard had the audacity to lift his hands up. "I could do a uh... demonstration- if you untie me, unless you're scared of a man like me-"

Before he could finish, you grabbed him by his face, pushing him against the doors. "Listen, Serra." You spat his name. Instantly, there was a change. A bigger one than even he expected within himself. He gasped and his abdomen twitched with a salacious heat pooling in it. "I'm not scared of you, or anything you even THINK you can do." You exaggerate the word with a little shove, and God if it didn't make him tremble. Of course, he tries to keep his cocky persona, so he resorts to shoving you away with his tied hands.

"Ahh, did I touch a nerve, princes-" Your face turns into a scowl, and you feel the urge to put him in his place. He won't shut up, so you make him. Impulsively, you press your lips to his, and he immediately kisses back, his shoulders slamming back against the wood with the force of your hands keeping him pinned. A groan reverberates from his throat at the force of it. You almost overwhelm him, your tongue pushing past his lips and your hands gripping his shoulders. His hands clench into fists and his hips jerk forwards in excitement. He tries to say something, trying to pull his head away to tease but you don't let him. You chase his mouth with yours, and a knee slips between his legs.

The whimper that escapes him is heavenly, and his eyes squeezed tighter shut. The man is struggling to keep up with your pace. Your knee is relentless, and he finds himself pushing his pelvis against it, gasping a shuddering breath at the sensation. Fuck he's feining for you. He doesn't want to pull away, not really. But he's quickly growing desperate, embarrassingly turned on. He tries to stop the twitching of his hips- but it's just so good.

Finally, you pull away and he visibly slumps for a second. His lips are swollen with the pressure of the kiss, and he looks up at you with upward brows. Once again that smirk is there, ever present. "Couldn't help yourself to my charm?" He wipes his face, and he acts like he's not throbbing with need. You also feel yourself affected by what you've done, and he can tell. Your eyes have a certain light to them, and your breathing a little ragged. You don't even reply.

For a second you look at each other, and then the tension snaps again. You grab his face and he lets you; his hands falling open again before closing and the sweet taste of your lips pervades him. His mouth falls open to let you in, and his eyebrows furrow as he returns the kiss just as desperately. Fumbling with the keys, you undo one of the cuffs, and his hands are on you instantly. He's grasping at your waist, and he's holding on to the concave with a tight grasp.

"Fuck- Princesa..." You curl your hands in his hair, pulling it backwards and his mouth forms an o before his bottom lip gets pulled between his teeth. "Shut up you stupid man." With his neck exposed, your lips latch onto it like a starved woman. Nipping at the side of his Adam's apple before licking the small patch, lips sucking on the skin. He groans, a shiver running through his spine. He wants to say something else, just to spite you. Just to make you do more. However, he doesn't want to risk you leaving him like this. Wanton and pathetic.

He hums in appreciation however as you undo the lapels of his jacket, his hands fidgeting with your utility belt. In response, you grab him by the wrist that's still cuffed. "Ah ah ahh, don't even think about it."

You further part the leather with the slide of your palm, drifting down and under his shirt. "I don't know when your curious hands..." The sentence drones off with a graze over his abdomen, drifting to his belt. "Might want to go somewhere dangerous."

Luis folds mentally, his head rolling to the side and he huffs at the contact, even if it's through fabric. His arousal is pulsing through his body, his heady light and muddled. "You're not one to talk, with- ugh..." His head bows, and his hips jut into your hand. His breathing comes in short puffs, and he rests his forehead on your shoulder. The hot, cigarette tainted breath puffing against your skin. "Mierda, please-" He gasps, grip travelling lower to your hips. Luis relishes in the soft fat of the flesh, and he pulls you closer. "I know you feel it. I can make you feel so good princes-" rambling. All he's doing is rambling as he humps your hand like a depraved dog. His accent thick and hot next to your ear, his lips brushing it with every gasp and groan.

He narrows his eyes as you pull away, and he finds himself devoid of friction once again. However, he's pleasantly surprised when you fall to your knees in front of him. That disgustingly sexy accent rings as he opens his mouth again. "Oh?" His hands card through your hair, and you roll your eyes as you undo his jeans. "If you wanted to service me I could have-" but he's interrupted when you spit on your hand and wrap it around his swollen cock. He bites his lip with a shudder. "W-wait..." He bends over you, his hands grasping your shoulders to ground him. "Give me a second- ff-fffuck!"

Luis cries out as you wrap your lips around his tip, still stroking his shaft at an expert place. Not too fast, not too slow- and the way your tongue is dancing around the brown, aching bulb has him whining in a pitch you didn't expect from a masculine man like him.

In his own mind, he was hoping he'd be able to help himself this time- All the previous times he's slept with women they've all complained about how fast he finished. This time seemed to be no exception.

You knew exactly what to do, how to massage your tongue over the slit in his throbbing head every time a spurt of pre rushed out. The liquid coating your tongue as you slowly took him further into your mouth. Slick popping and squelching escaped the confines of your mouth as you gulp him down eagerly. The noises only spur him on further- much to his own demise. "Aye, dios mio- fuck! I can't- slow down Princesaa... Ah!" You slipped him further down your throat until you felt the heavy, searing heat of him slip over your tongue, over and over again. The flesh massaged by the slick of your muscle. He was falling apart above you, his thighs trembling as you pinned them to the wall. Saliva dribbles down from your lips to your chin as you sputter around him, taking him further with every bob of your head.

"Oh my God- too good. Too m-much!" His eyes roll back in their sockets as you relax your throat and bury your nose in the fuzz of his happy trail. Luis can feel the tightness of your cavern even still, and he can't help but buck weakly forwards. His cock fills your mouth completely, your slick muscle drawing back and forth on the underside of him. "God! Fuck! You're amazing- oh! F-fuck... I'm close pequeña, please! Please don't as- hmmngh!" He can't help it. His abdomen flares with heat as he cums in your throat, his eyes closing and tears pricking his eyes at the heat of it all. His balls twitch and so does his cock as he spills everything he has. "Fuck- I'm so sorry-" You pull away, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

"Aww, is poor, strong, Luis sensitive?" You mock him, and his face blooms brighter. He covers his face with his hand, clammy and hot as he comes down from his rapidly approached high. "Don't say that- I can't help it." He shrugs, but his pupils are still dilated and his hands are shaking.

"Well I sure as shit didn't do that for free so..." You undo your belt, letting it fall to the ground around you. Luis gets the hint instantly, and he drops to his knees in front of you. He presses his forehead against your lower stomach, his hands shaking as they trail over your hips and thighs. He's practically worshipping you.

"I wouldn't expect anything less mi corona." He whispers, his strong hands pick you up by your thighs, creating dimples in the supple limbs. Fuck if his hands weren't the best things you've ever seen in your god damn life. He was clearly older, and they had a bit of hair on them, but they were thick. He looks down at the glistening folds in front of him, and he gulps. He can feel the rush of familiar fire in his lower stomach, and he twitches to life again.

"I hear Spaniards are very good with their tongues." You suggest, entwining your fingers in his chestnut locks. He looks up at you, his downturned eyes are just so pretty like this, and you feel his breath against your entrance. "I can give you a demonstration."

He doesn't wait for you to reply, he parts you with his tongue before his lips attach themselves to your clit, and he gently sucks on it before his heated tongue grazes the bud, flicking it and rolling it with his tongue before lapping underneath it, his nose, fuck... He's doing all kinds of shit.

I wouldn't be the king of unfinished fics if I continued. I LOVE THE REQUESTS THANK YOU I WILL GET TO THE REST PRETTY SOON I THINK <333

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

IM UNSHADOWBANNWD AH. I’ve been so excited to post this story it’s been in the works and it’s the THREE HUNDRED follower special first of all i do not deserve you guys at all thank you for all the support you show me i hope you enjoy this as much as i did hehe MUAH

DISCLAIMER: This is an 18+ blog! If you are underaged or don’t have an age indicator in your bio, please don’t interact!

afab reader x Pornstar! ID Leon

Warnings: Smut- just pure porn with a plot. PORNSTAR LUIS TOO HEHE.Slight (very) slight mentions of being obsessed/ watching reader, leon eats pussy (ofc he does) and fucks reader stupid.

Word count: 3,169

———-

knock knock

“What?”

Why did he sound so annoyed? Your fist stalled against the door as you paused your knocking.

“Um- Greg told me to introduce myself. Sorry if you’re busy.”

Just try and sound sweet, don’t be a pushover. You had barely just stepped onto the set, still in the clothes you wore to your psychology class. The room ran silent, your eyes reading over his name on his door continuously before it swung up, your hair moving from the gust of wind.

His arms were so toned, his hand gripping the handle of the door knob as he leaned against the door frame. Incredibly toned, his shirt off and his hair laying against his face so perfectly. His steely eyes scanned you up and down, a chuckle rumbling through his chest as he saw you holding your Psych 200 book.

“Leon.”

He mumbled as he watched you scan over his arms. He was cocky; you could tell. Before you could even introduce yourself, the door slammed in your face, your hands gripping your bag as you sighed to yourself, shaking your head in disbelief.

———

“She shot with Sera like a month ago. The video is still up on the front page too.”

Leon’s makeup artist spoke as she rubbed the beauty blender against his forehead. Leon stared at himself in the mirror; he felt terrible for slamming the door in your face. He really did. He has been in the industry for too long, and he has never had anyone come and formally introduce themselves before filming, so seeing you stand there not being able to say a complete sentence to his face just irritated him. He was also just surprised you didn’t know him; he owned this whole set, his manager is the one who makes his booking, or he definitely wouldn’t have picked you of all people.

———

After shooting with Luis, the two of you became very close friends; when you got to your small studio room, you threw your bag and book down, dialing his number on your phone as you pulled your laptop out, sitting on the desk.

“Hello?”

Luis' voice rang through your ear as you sighed in frustration, instantly communicating that something was wrong.

“He slammed a door in my face when I tried to say hi to him, Luis.. why does he have such a big ego? Sure is heavy for a man I've never even seen before.”

Your fingers typed his name into the search bar, clicking on the first link to come up as you listened to Luis ramble about how this is just how it’s going to be and how lucky you were to get him as your first shoot, your mouth ran dry seeing the cover photo of one of Leon’s hundreds of videos, his cock barely pushing into some girl, his hair covering his face so perfectly and his lips parted so slightly.

“Mama, what did I tell you? Do not google.”

Luis scolded as he listened to you close the laptop.

“I don’t know, Luis, maybe I should just leave- I have to go; makeup’s here.”

Hanging up on him because of the slight knock on the door. It must have been noticeable that you were in your head, the pretty makeup artist wiping at your cheeks with a light bronzer to grab your attention.

“You don’t need much makeup, and you’re naturally very beautiful.”

She smiles softly as she reaches for the mascara. You smile back at her as she tilts your head around.

“That’s very sweet of you, thank you.”

You laugh as she turns your chair around, smiling as she pushes your hair from your face.

“Gorgeous, they want you in this. Whatever you wear under is completely up to you.”

The beautiful woman rambled as she pulled the light blue sundress from the bag, handing it to you. No matter what they said to you, you couldn’t get out of your own head.

————

The wall had a weird pattern. It wasn’t like standard white paint but was super grainy, you sat further back, watching as the director checked all of his cameras, fixing the lights, and reading over signed paperwork. They never handed you a script, though, which left you lost. Luis’ crew had a script. It was easy to remember, but maybe only Leon had one. Right when you think about him, he comes walking in from the main door, a smug smile on his face as he grabs hands to shake. If he weren’t in the industry he would make a wonderful bodyguard with broad shoulders, strong arms, and confidence. He wore a black long-sleeve shirt accompanied by a pair of dark denim jeans. It sucked; he was such an asshole, he was handsome. It suddenly made you feel so self-conscious, remembering the cover photo you had seen on your laptop. You specifically specialized in actual content, genuine emotions, and honest reactions, and the people love it. You started on your own, only fans, to be specific, and it makes you laugh out of embarrassment when it’s brought up. Your eyes follow Leon as he grabs a cup of water, leaning on the table as he talks to the makeup artist, who, for some reason, points over to you. Your eyes drop to your lap, your legs crossed as you play with the soft material of the dress. Your heart began to race as you saw his shoes directly in front of you. His presence was so heavy. Your gaze shifted up to him, his hand touching the arm of your chair.

“Sorry for slamming the door on you, I’ve had a long week, and I forgot I was shooting today.”

Hearing him talk in a complete sentence now was weird, his voice rough yet deep. You nodded your head as you shrugged.

“I can’t blame you; I would slam the door on me too.”

You smile, but it quickly drops once you notice what he said; how could he forget he has a shot? He just called you easily forgettable. Leon’s eyes trailed down to your thighs, smiling to himself as your leg bounced up and down. The two of you stood in your silence before Greg walked over towards you two, grabbing your shoulders.

“Leon, Y/N, Y/N, Leon. I know this piece of work doesn’t introduce himself for shit.”

He laughed, pointing towards the bed in the middle of the room; Leon’s eyes squinted at the minor insult before both of your eyes shifted to the bed. He had explained some shitty plan that had the two of you bored. He sighed before he looked at Leon, touching his arm.

“Just do whatever you want. Why do you pay me?”

His foot turned to walk away from you two as Leon still stared at the bed in the middle of the room. He turned back to you, putting his hand out, your eyebrow-raising in confusion up at him.

“Leon Kennedy.”

Your hand pulled from your lap, shaking at his, both of your grip on each other strong as you nodded your head.

“Just call me Y/N.”

You spoke sheepishly before he helped you up from the chair. Was he going to listen to what the director said? This was an extensive movie set, the bedroom, and then the small room apart from the bedroom that seemed to resemble a hallway.

“I know we stepped off on the wrong foot, but can you trust me? Just for the next hour?”

Leon leaned down to your ear as the two of you walked towards the hallway set. You nodded your head as the lighting changed to a darker yellow.

Leon’s head turned towards the camera as he put his hand up

“No cuts.”

He yelled out as he turned back to you.

—————-

Felt awful slamming the door on her pretty face.

Leon’s grip on the door handle grew tighter by the second as you rambled on about trying to introduce yourself. The room shook as he slammed the door, a strained groan leaving his lips as he looked down at his sweatpants. You had knocked at a horrible time, Leon’s laptop on display with your video with Luis flashing on his screen. He was obsessed with you. Obsessed with how your lips parted before you moaned or how easily sensitive you were. You didn’t need to introduce yourself. He already knew. So when he called his agent asking him to call your agent to see if you were booking, he was more than excited when they said you were open. He pumped himself for almost an hour, soft moans leaving his lips as his eyes squeezed shut, trying to think about how it would feel to have you squeezing around his cock.

———

“Action!”

Greg screamed, your eyelids heavy as you looked up at Leon. It was crazy how fast you could switch moods like that. Leon's hands were immediately all over you, pressing you into the wall by your waist as he hungrily peppered kisses against your jaw. And suddenly everything felt so much hotter? His hands dragged down your skin, and his lips burned into the soft skin of your neck, a whine leaving your lips as one of Leon’s hungry hands brought your leg to his waist.

“There you go, honey, relax for me..”

He mumbled into your skin as his hands lifted you into his arms. You were surprised at his strength as he held you with one hand, his other pushing the door open. He made you feel so small, throwing you down onto the plush mattress, your chest rising and falling as he softly nipped at your collarbones. You weren’t this nervous with Luis, your hands shaking as you pushed some hair from Leon’s face as he kissed the small space between your chest, his hands carefully rubbing up your thighs, his fingers resting against your stomach as he pushed himself down the bed. He needed more. The way you shook under him only encouraged him, his head nuzzling so perfectly between your thighs, smirking up at you as your eyes fluttered away from you, avoiding his stare. The pressure in his pants grew more intense, listening to the hiss pull through your teeth as he held onto the fabric of the sundress, licking over your pretty black panties.

“Damn..”

He grumbled as he lifted your hips, pulling the panties off you, bundling them up in his hand, and pushing them into his pocket as he moved the dress's material again. Scooting in closer to you, laying your knees over his shoulders as he looked up at you through heavy eyelids, his tongue laying a long strip over your folds. You couldn’t help but squirm in his grasp, his hands flying to your waist as you let out that shaky whine again that drove him fucking crazy. You tasted so unbelievably good on his tongue, his eyes rolling back as he hungrily lapped at your folds, pulling you closer like somebody was trying to take you from him. You were so dazed, your back arching as the cameraman squatted beside you and Leon, trying to get the perfect angle. You didn’t even care about his presence, caught up in crying out Leon's name as he repeatedly lapped at your clit, a loud whimper leaving your lips as you sat up, tugging at his hair. Leon could stay between your legs all day, but he needed more. He pulled away from your still dripping core, his face glistening with your slick as he took advantage of you sitting up, pulling the dress over your head. He couldn’t help but groan, finally seeing you bare beneath him, his hands pushing down against your chest, your back laying flat against the mattress yet again as you stared up at him, watching with sparkling eyes as he pulled his shirt over his head. He was sculpted so beautifully.. and it hit you, this is why he’s so popular, he’s a walking god.

“Been waiting on this part all fucking day..”

Leon’s lips parted as he yanked his jeans down, along with his boxers. He let out a sigh of relief as his cock pressed against his upper stomach, his hand reaching down to pump himself as he kicked his jeans off. And suddenly you felt like that girl on the cover of the video you saw, Leon’s hair sprawling perfectly against his face as he leans his body down, tearing your thighs open as his thumb lazily rubs small circles against your clit, smirking as you jolt forward. He continued to pump himself as he reached over, grabbing at the baby pink silk pillow at the edge of the bed before he shoved it under your hips. What a gentleman… you thought to yourself before your thighs were pressing together at the feeling of his cock pressing into you. He was so thick, your walls having a hard time adjusting to even just the tip of him. Leon’s lips pressed together as he let out a quiet “fuck..” His hands holding your legs open as he put more pressure on your clit, your core growing soaked again assisting him in sliding so perfectly into you. If he weren’t getting paid for this, he would’ve just came then and there, watching your pretty face scrunch up in painful pleasure, your legs kicking in his grasp slightly, and your painfully tight walls squeezing him.

“Fuck.. relax, baby, let me in.”

Leon whispered to you as you nodded your head, allowing your hips to rest against the pillow as he cooed down at you, leaning down against your much smaller form and forcing your legs over his broad shoulder. His thumb is still rubbing at your clit to ease the pain of him stretching you out. Leon’s jaw tightens as he pulls his hips back, letting out a shaky breath as he slams back into you, smiling as the small “Mmph!-“ Left your throat involuntarily. So fucking precious. Your soft thighs brushed against his chest as he fucked into you, his body weight lifting off you as he grabbed your ankles, staring down at where he pushed into you. Even the director looked surprised as Leon let out a long moan. It rumbled through his chest as he continued to fuck into you, your hands grabbing at the bed sheets. Leon mumbled a few words to himself before he grabbed at your body, flipping you on to your side as he threw the pillow to to other side of the room. He crawled behind you, lifting your leg before he pushed into you again, causing you to let out a loud whine, your head leaning back into his shoulder as his thrusts somehow became deeper- more meaningful. Leon reached over, pushing some hair from your face as he looked down at you.

“Come on, sweetheart, open your eyes for me.”

His lips touch the shell of your ear as he whispers to you. You were in bliss; he rubbed against your walls so perfectly it felt like your skin was on fire. Your eyes fluttered open, looking at the camera hazily. Leon shook his head, grabbing your jaw and turning your head towards him.

“Don’t look at them.. look at me… it’s just you and me right now, baby, just you and me.”

He groaned down to you as a loud cry of pleasure left your lips in response, your orgasm crashing through you. His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you in closer to him as his hips snapped into you faster.

“That's a good fucking girl- mm.. fuck keep squeezing around me like that, honey..”

Leon felt his hips stuttering as he looked down at you, fucked out in his arms. A shaky moan left his lips as his hips stopped, his cum spurting into you, causing loud cries to leave your lips. Leon laid out of breath before he pulled out of you, smirking as he tilted his head at the cameraman to bring him in closer as he spread your lips, his fingers spreading your folds as his cum dripped out of you, the biggest smirk on his face.

“Cut!”

Was all you heard as the bed dipped beside you, your body still trying to recover as you sat up, your hair messy and your mascara running down the side of your face as Leon laughed, looking over at you.

“You okay, sugar?”

He asked sweetly as he grabbed a water, opening it before handing it to you, pushing some hair from your face as you took a small sip.

“Yeah.. just was a lot.”

You nod as he watches you; he clears his throat, handing you the sundress from the ground as he stands, pulling his pants up.

“Listen. I know you don’t know me, but, are you busy tonight? Let me take you out for dinner.”

He wasn’t asking; it was more of him letting you know he was. Your arms go through the holes before you look at him, nodding your head.

———-

You were the current talk of the industry.

Everyone was so curious how you broke Leon, making him utterly different from any video he’s ever shot.

Your face scrunches as you look at yours and Leon’s page on the front cover of the site, that smirk on his face as he spreads apart your folds. Your knee is pressed to your chest as you scroll through the comments, flinching slightly as you feel pressure at the top of your head.

“Morning.”

Leon grumbles as he sips his coffee after kissing the top of your head. His eyes follow yours, seeing the “uploaded two months ago” in the corner as he whistled

“Gonna win awards for that one.”

He winks at you, your arm swinging at him before you shut the laptop on the table.

[lafox]

Luis Sera Headcanon [Collab] SFW/NSFW

Author note: hi everyone. I know it has been Ages but im back with a little gift for all of you and i collab with @sattiene my beloved <3 thank you so much for her input and help because it really helped me out get back in the mix of things. i really missed writing HC for characters soooooo ! My ask are now open! YEY!

anyways i'll let you enjoy this Hc!:

SFW HC: 

Meeting you for the first time in the events of the Las Plagas incident, the first thing he says to you is:

"I just have one important question. Do you have a smoke?"

-

Manipulation through his puppy eyes. 

“Oye, Senorita. Mind a smoke?” *insta puppy eyes*

-

Probably ‘almost’ fluent in French and would brag about it to you only (hmmm wonder why)

-

Grows every so fond of you when you laugh off his flirting towards you.

But what made him fall in love even more was when you suddenly started to flirt back. 

He stutters, is flustered but quickly come back with another flirt (it's a war now)

One time, he was playing around with his lighter while walking, to which you added a remark:

“Hm.. Does this skill also apply in the bedroom?” You smirked. 

The man was shooken (idk this isn't a word) and closed his lighter shut.

He shook his head and chuckled,

“There is only one way to find out, ay?” He said looking back at you.

Oh boy…

-

He tries to lighten up the mood as Leon isn’t much of a jokester. 

And when you laugh at his jokes and Leon doesn't, he points it out:

“Ay, see Y/N likes my jokes.” 

-

If you are imprisoned, you bet your ass Luis is gonna be your knight in shining armor.

You’ll scream to whoever, to get you out when it’s Luis that peaks his head and saves you his only comment will be:

“Oh so that's what you sound like, hm?” 

Alternatively : You are captured and tied up unconscious. He is at your rescue once more and sees you tied up. He would whistle and look away for a minute, putting his fist close to his mouth before snapping out of it and helping you out.

When you wake you bet your ass he will hit you with the oldest pick up line to this day like:

"Oh chica. I've been told I look heavenly, but you're not in heaven yet."

-

Is it raining? No problem Luis is to the rescue:

“Where are my manners?” He says as he takes off his jacket and hovers it on top of your head.

-

Oh shit! A flight hatchet coming your way! But don't worry, again, Luis is at the  rescue,

Hugging you as he pushes both of you away and falls down.

Well now it's an awkward situation as you are now on top of him. You lift yourself to meet with Luis’ face closer than expected.

Of course he shots a flirtatious grin accompanied with his eyebrows raising up.

What he would do to get your attention or to be close to you i swear…

He is down bad for you that's for sure. 

-

It's impressive when you see Leon in action, a break at the shooting range is always a great pause for everyone, which helps make Luis and you grow closer.

But the music made your feet tap to the beat and that, Luis noticed. 

He gently grabbed your hand, waiting a few seconds to know if he was denied and when you didn’t reject his advance, dragged you to dance.

You giggled, you weren’t much of a dancer but the beat was so good and the moment was so right, it made you become one. 

That was when you were charmed by him.

-

When you get separated, Luis will call you on the radio any chance he gets.

“Hola. Aaah I'm glad you picked up princesa. I’m at the ballroom, come over. We can continue our little dance. Don’t be late to the party!”

When you are a bit more separate from Leon and Ashley, you call Luis and you guys chat

“How's your search? Are you okay so far?” you asked. “Always so worried for me, lindura~” “I miss you too don’t worry” He adds. 

-

He would scare you by hugging you from behind

Which ultimately ends in you pointing your gun at him

"Whoa whoa, cariño. chill. it's just me, your loverboy."

-

Would take pictures of you on his flip phone but the pictures are some of the worst moments of you looking surprised, zoning out, or sweaty with dirt on your face cause you were almost killed by a villager. 

You ask him to delete it but nah this man puts it as his wallpaper and keeps it forever.

-

If you are infected with las Plagas, he becomes serious

Will still be flirtatious to calm his own anxiety

At the operation table, will hold your hand while killing the plaga

Would turn his head away as it is agony for him to hear you scream in pain

"I know, I know bebe. I'm here. shhh, shh,"

Let a tear fall and wipes it after the operation finish

Man, he thought he lost you!

-

But enough heart breaks!

The man is clingy! He loves you so much he always want you close

For example; you want to make breakfast for the both of you in the morning but no no no you are not escaping with his arms wrapped around your waist

"Nooooo, mi amor, stay," He whines in his morning voice.

Will be hugging you from behind while you cook breakfast. 

You can feel his stubble tickling your neck

Everything is perfect.

-

The embodiment of chivalry

Opens doors for you, pushes your seat for you allllll the time.

NSFW HC

He is loud and not scared to be

Moan, groans, whimpers, yeah you are getting the whole service.

-

Service top/ dom

Mutters some Spanish when he is really really into it.

-

His foreplay is insane the man is a teaser;

Hand on your thigh just slowly but surely making his way through your core as he kisses your neck and tells you sweet nothing. (how could it not melt to that!)

-

You are always his top priority

Can go on for hour for your pleasure only (pls don’t make him pass out i beg you)

Cracks jokes if you are anxious, just to see you smile and relax, that’s already a win for him.

-

Mf does the petal of roses on the bed thingy on the special occasion (with scented candles ofc!)

Nice dinners and dancing before a night of love.

-

Sex isn't a shameful topic to him and will tease about it.

If you tease him back about his  performance he will backfire at you, its constant banter!

-

Weakness for lace in lingerie: He would fall weak if he slowly discovered you are wearing a set of lingerie while he takes off your clothes

“You wore this for me cariño.” and also will have his puppy eyes activated.

-

Would brag about you all the time and show that you are his girl as he marks you

He loves when you mark him, telling him you are his and that he is yours.

Covered with your lipstick is so hot to him, shows how much you love him.

Takes pictures of all the above

-

His biggest turn on? When you ride him. 

Holy fuck does he love it so much, just digging his hands on your thighs and trusting at the same beat as your riding makes him melt.

You taste heavenly to him and he loves to eat you out

Face riding? Yes please!

Makes him so horny you bet that shit makes him precum.

-

Type of guy to continue slowly thrusting in when done cause God Damn you feel good, he doesn’t want it to end!

-

Not into the harcord stuff like BDSM and such but would be willing to try for you

“So you’re into that stuff ay..” 

-

His favorite positions are any where he can see your beautiful face

-

He will never call you names like ‘slut’ and stuff “that's not a gentlemen’s ways”

-

You tried your best to please him first but Luis can’t hear any of that: “Ladies first” kinda treatment 

“Why don’t we switch it up tonight, let me start with you~” you said as you pressed your fingertips on his pecks, going ever so slowly down.

He shook his head as he chuckled. “You know my policy mi amor” He takes your hand to wrap in around his neck as he positions you on your back while kissing you

I mean, you can’t resist him. 

-

First time he makes you squirt, the man will be so proud of himself

Will use that fact against you in arguments: “didn’t you gush all over me last night?? yeah that’s what i thought.” 

With a smug ofc 

-

Tell you how beautiful you are especially while making you cum

-

Best aftercare, hugs, kisses, shower, and caresses.

The man Orders you to stay put when he cleans up, its “his mess not yours”

[courtofparrots]

Luis Serra and his use of false bravado

I'm writing a fic right now that requires a pretty in-depth character analysis of Luis, and I wanted to talk about one of my favorite things about him, which is his use of false bravado to get out of sticky situations, and the expressiveness he displays in the moments in between.

We talk a lot about Leon's micro-expressions when he's trying to hide his feelings, which don't get me wrong, I LOVE to analyze, but Luis has such telling expressions as well, and we should talk about it! (I also saw some gifs of Luis's expressions being modded onto Leon and THAT got attention but... neither here nor there).

To me, it always looks like he's using an almost silly amount of swagger when he interacts with others to portray his confidence, and he barely ever lets that wall down. Unlike Leon and Ada, he's a civilian, but he jokes around and flirts every time he's in front of them, despite being in situations where he really should be behaving more like Ashley, like when he narrowly avoided being tortured to death and he's just like "nice, cigs"

We as the audience are only privy to his mask slips in 3 different types of situations, as far as I can tell:

When he feels like his luck is about to run out: he goes from acting confident to suddenly displaying a lot of fear on his face, while he wildly casts around for something to say to help him out. In both of these instances, he completely regains his bravado once he thinks he's safe again, i.e. when Ada saves him from the torturers, or when he realizes Ada knows who Leon is. This is also just kind of adorable. Watch the way his face falls when he realizes Ada is mad, and then the way he flounders when she points her gun at him.

2. When no one else is looking: This one stood out to me from the very beginning because he's actually still speaking with confidence as he explains that the plaga can be removed, but Leon and Ashley can't see his face, where he's clearly showing his trepidation, his guilt about them being infected, etc. and then notice how he goes right back to smiling and confident when he turns around to face them again.

3. When he feels concern for others: Luis is an extremely caring person, and one of the most common moments where he lets his mask slip is when someone else is in danger. Obviously the first thing that comes to mind is his reaction to the medicine being destroyed, but I also want to draw attention to the look on his face when Ada is in danger and she tells him to leave her. And I know I included him looking away from Leon and Mendez in a previous post but here's a higher quality gif so you can really get your heart broken by how scared he looks:

Anyways, I just love the little things that make up characters in this game. I also have analyses about Ada and Ashley that you'll probably get whether you want it or not because I love them, and their characterizations are so interesting.

[love-toxin]

Leon looks so pissed off in that last gif and Luis looks ecstatic. Oh to be stuck between the two of them. Luis so fucking happy he gets to play with you as he thought you were adorable the first time he saw you but Leon pissed off that he's having to share you. Maybe you were the price for Luis' help.

ok im sorry but i have to go insane for like. at least a moment bc luis 🥺 my love 🥺

(cws: gn!reader, post-canon, re4 spoilers!!, confessions, flirting, a kissy kissy, canon divergence, some blood and injury, mild innuendos, a lil intimate touching & mutual pining. leon's bad with feelings.)

Luis is sooooooo happy go lucky about the whole thing but Leon couldn't be more pissed. you're his mission partner, his. so where the hell does this stupid Latin-hearthrob local get off on asking him to set you two up? the danger may have passed and Ashley may be safely loaded on to a helicopter and taken away, but does he really have no better way to spend the last evening you've got to waste here? he just has to bug him about trying to get in with you?

"come on, prince charming. didn't you say you would thank me for my help?" Luis teases, nudging him with his elbow as the two lounge side-by-side on one of the sofas in the palace's many sitting rooms. Hunnigan had pointed out that the castle would be the most fortified place for you three to wait out the evening, as another chopper wouldn't be available until the next morning. but despite it being comfortable, Leon's only got his mind on passing the time as quick as possible so he can get you away from Luis and nip that possibility of you two hooking up in the bud.

"pick something else." he huffs, arms crossed over his broad chest as he elbows Luis back even harder--and a smirk twinges at his lips when he hears the Spaniard groan and buckle in pain, his wounds still fresh from just barely escaping Saddler's attempt to get the "sample" back from him.

it was because of you that he even survived, you had shoved him out of the way and landed a hit on his attacker with your shotgun aimed right at his head. and even though it obviously hadn't killed him, and you'd suffered your own injuries as you were flung away and Saddler retreated, you still rushed to Luis first to stem the bleeding from his abdomen and whisper those soft, worried reassurances that he would be okay. you'd taken care of him, brought him back to life, soothed him and babied him and smiled when he managed to get to his feet--and Leon had hated every second of it because it was for someone else. what he wouldn't give to have you look at him that way, to croon over him and want to protect him and kiss his wounds better.

so duh, he's jealous, and that's why he's been so stubborn and childish over Luis' attempts to claim his prize. but even now, when all is said and done and he's finished what he started, he still can't get even that.

"Luis?" Leon's head perks up at the sound of your voice--your sweet, delicate voice wafting over as you step through the doorway. clearly you heard him whining in pain, your eyes say it all. they soften with your brow and you move briskly to crouch in front of your friend and rest your hands tenderly on his knees. "are you okay? is it hurting again?" damn that doting look you give Luis. he shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he tries not to think of you looking at him that way, in that same position, with his legs spread apart and you on your knees like that...

"only when I breathe, mi corazon." he laughs albeit defeatedly, and only now does Leon feel a little guilty for prodding some of those wounds. he definitely looks paler than he should, but it also hurts to see you so worried for him.

"oh, Luis--here, let's get you somewhere more comfortable, yeah? it'll be better for you to lay down anyways. Lee?"

he's so lost in the way your hands glide up Luis' legs to check on his bandages that he flinches when you call his name again, your expression questioning when he finally snaps back to reality until he utters a "huh?". and then you gesture for him to help you prop Luis up to take him into the bedroom next door, which he does for you begrudgingly and remedies only by dropping Luis just a little rougher than needed when he lifts him up on to the bed. it bites him in the same way as the Spaniard groans and you hurry to evaluate his pain, but at least now Luis looks a bit more pathetic laying back on the sheets--much like he's moments away from passing out cold. it's been a long day for all of you, after all, although he would be lying if he said he wouldn't be glad that it'd shut him up for five minutes.

it feels even longer when he watches you lean over him, and Luis' fingers trail up your hip to give your waist a playful squeeze--and when you two share a too-intimate smile at each other as you work on tightening his bandages, Leon's had more than enough. when you straighten up and turn to him to ask him to fetch something, the words don't even hit his ears because he's already leaning in. both hands come to rest just underneath your jaw and sit right below your ears, so the entire lower half of your face is dwarfed by him as his lips meet yours in a hot, wet flurry; one, another for good measure, and a third just grazing your bottom lip as you finally flinch at the sudden contact. a sound escapes you but whether it was his name, or a question, or just a sound, he doesn't know. because as soon as it's over, Leon's turning on his heel and leaving the room in a hurry to go get whatever it was you wanted. he'll just have to guess. something for Luis.

"my, my..." the man in question wonders aloud, a smug grin tweaking his lips as he watches Leon's back disappear from the doorway. "...finally got the courage, I see." he whispers devilishly under his breath.

"L-Lee? Lee! I...d-did I do something..? I didn't hurt his feelings, did I?" you whimper so sweetly, and Luis can't help but laugh even though it has him keeling over in a second, the pain in his chest bringing up a hacking cough that thankfully goes away quickly, and without any blood in his palm to boot.

"oh, mi amor, you're going to rot my teeth...don't worry your sweet heart, he's just got something on the mind." he shifts his position and looks up at you with a wink at the ready, but your unexpectedly sour expression staring back at him wilts that charm in no time at all.

"I hate it when you two act like you know something I don't." all that pouting you're doing now is just too adorable to resist though, especially since you're throwing yourself right back into securing his injuries yet again--perhaps, based on the concentration on your face, because you want to focus on figuring out the reason for why your coworker just did what he did. those warm cheeks and glimmery eyes speak for themselves, though. you must have enjoyed it, conflicting feelings and all.

"and--hngh--what if we do?"

"then just tell me!"

you huff, straightening out his clothes for the last time and gently dragging his shirt back down to cover his stomach. just when you reach his belt, however, Luis grabs your wrist in a tight grip and yanks you towards him--and when you squeak and collapse on top of him, your hands hitting either side of the pillow under his head while your knee rests on the edge of the mattress, that flustered face and those quickened breaths at your newfound closeness just melt any remaining hesitation from his heart. his thumb grazes your palm on the hand he's still got in his grasp, and with a smirk he slides it over yours to lace your fingers together while the other creeps up your neck.

you've got eyes on him alone, heart beating in your throat for him. the kiss he plants on your half-open mouth is warmer, sweeter, and deeper than the one you had from Leon--not better or worse, just enthusiastic in a different way. and his grin only grows wider when he breaks away and spots Leon standing there over your shoulder, watching with flushed cheeks and a vial clutched in his hands as he waits in the doorway. how polite of him, especially shutting the door so quietly as he slowly stalks up behind you both in your moment of heated, Spanish passion.

"...now, how's that for a confession, cariño?"