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lucysarah-c · 1 month ago

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Mounting Spring Ch. 1.

Summary: Paradis has opened its doors to the world, and the Rumbling has not yet occurred. The military board insists, "We need more Ackermans!" to avoid ruining Mikasa's life. Levi agrees. Arranged marriage, explicit consent, Omegaverse. Alpha! Levi x Omega! Y/N. Mentions of underage marriage but it doesn't happen, the reader is over 21. Age gap but they are both adults. (I would say enemys to lover but they don't even know eachother to be enemys lol.) Author note: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it. From the creator of "Not in season?" I bring to you "Mounting Spring" lmao haha sorry it's just that my first omegaverse was rather a success… so I decided to do another.

MASTERLIST TO ALL THE OTHER PARTS.

Link to AO3 in case you prefer to read it there.

The papers were passed around the Military board members, each set handed off in tense silence. The room’s air had cooled quickly as the sun dipped below the horizon, making Levi’s coat, almost too heavy to bear earlier, feel suddenly necessary. The chill seeped through the old walls, hinting that a bit of heating might soon be in order.

With methodical precision, Levi slammed the stack of reports against the wooden table to align them perfectly, every edge sharp and in place. He moved aside the sticky notes he’d scribbled on hours before, crossing off the last item on his to-do list with finality. Job done for the day—

“Well, that’s it,” he muttered, eager to leave the stale room behind.

A pointed clearing of someone’s throat halted him, making him glance up slowly. Levi’s senses flared; he wasn’t done after all. The tension thickened, and the air shifted to something more ominous. His gaze travelled around the table, landing on each board member’s face. Some looked uncomfortable, others entertained, as if they’d been anticipating this moment. Hange, seated beside him despite their role as Commander now, avoided his eye, their head lowered in apparent resignation. Recent meetings had seen the appearance of new, vaguely unsettling faces, like Kiyomi's, who now looked across the table with a subtle smile.

“Captain,” Zackly’s voice rasped as he cleared his throat yet again.

“The day’s agenda is finished,” Levi stated, irritation biting at his words. The official telegram had detailed the topics to be discussed, all of which they’d already addressed. Anything beyond that, he knew, was meant to be cleared with the entire board beforehand.

“This was a last-minute matter,” a Military Police officer interjected, though the smirk twitching at his lips betrayed more amusement than urgency.

“Captain,” Zackly called again, knitting his fingers together. “You know we’ve always valued your dedication to Paradis.”

The pause was rehearsed, the words strangely formal, making Levi’s eyes narrow. “What the hell is going on?” cutting through the man’s attempt at civility.

“Let the Commander finish,” Kiyomi insisted, her voice smooth and elegant, though tinged with a superiority that grated on him.

“We wouldn’t have managed to retake Wall Maria without your bravery—”

“A lot of people sacrificed themselves for that,” Levi replied sharply, cutting off the praise that felt, at best, patronizing. “Including the previous Commander, Erwin. No need to thank me.”

“Nevertheless,” Zackly forged on, tiring of the interruptions, “without your skill, all those sacrifices might have been in vain. Not only did you dare to fight for Eren’s retrieval from the Female Titan and against the former tyrannical regime, but—”

“It wasn’t just me. My squad and the brat over there were in it too.”

The tone of the conversation was growing increasingly uneasy, the excessive praise no longer just annoying him but setting off alarms.

“Quite right. You and Mikasa were essential in humanity’s progress,” Kiyomi added, eyeing Levi with a calculating gaze. As her look shifted back to Zackly, Levi’s own attention followed.

“What we mean to say is… even if Paradis positions itself favourably in the new world, more capable individuals like you and Mikasa would be ideal assets for our success.” Zackly straightened in his chair, clearing his throat for the third time, making Levi wonder if the man needed water—or to finally give up smoking like a chimney. “Have you ever considered marriage, Captain?”

The question hit him like a bucket of ice water. It was so absurd Levi could only scoff. “What?”

“How old are you now?” Zackly continued, feigning casual curiosity. “Thirty-three? Thirty-four? A prime age, I’m sure. And for a high-breed alpha like you—”

Behind him, low chuckles began to echo from the MPs, each one making Levi’s grip on the chair’s arm tighten.

‘This is a trap.’

“Whatever it is you’re implying, I I suggest you rethink it,” Levi spat, the weight of their words starting to settle.

“Let’s be frank,” Kiyomi leaned forward, hands placed firmly on the table. “Captain, we once thought the Ackermans extinct, only to discover Paradis has not one but two. Even Zeke couldn’t deny that meeting you at Shiganshina was... less than pleasant.”

“Of course,” Levi replied dryly. “I beat that monkey’s ass.”

“Exactly.” The dark-haired woman showed no amusement, her voice all business. “To the point, then: we intend to provide you with a suitable wife to ensure that you bless this island with as many Ackermans as she’s capable of bearing.”

Levi shot to his feet. “You must be out of your damned mind if you think I’d agree to this. I’m not here to be used as a breeding tool.”

“Oh, but you wouldn’t be the one doing the birthing,” an MP remarked with a smirk as the rest of the board broke their facades, amusement flashing in their eyes. All but Hange, who looked as if they might vanish into their seat.

“You’re insane,” Levi snarled, preparing to leave, feeling insulted to his core. “You can use Historia as your political pawn as much as you want, but I’m not some 17-year-old girl at your disposal—”

“Think of it as a service to your country,” Zackly replied coolly.

“I serve this island every damned day,” Levi snapped, baring his teeth. With a sharp slap, he pressed his papers against the table and strode toward the door, signaling his utter rejection of the idea.

“If you won’t consider it…” Kiyomi's calm, piercing voice halted him at the door, the threat clear. “Then we’ll turn to the only other Ackerman left.”

Levi stilled, staring at the golden knob in his hand, fury boiling in his veins. He wasn’t about to fall for this.

“Mikasa is too valuable to be reduced to a broodmare.”

“She’s a girl of duty,” Kiyomi replied, a note of satisfaction in her voice. “Something you seem to lack. And she’s an alpha. I’m certain she could bear at least one healthy child before returning to the battlefield.”

Levi clicked his tongue, pushing open the door with disdain. ‘Who the hell do they think I am?’ Hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat, he stormed down the royal city’s military headquarters hallways, curses slipping from his lips. The whole idea was absurd; they’d lost their minds if they thought he’d even consider it.

As Levi stormed down the dim corridor, every step sharp and swift, he couldn’t shake the rancor rising within him. The brazenness of it all, to drag him into their twisted ambitions with such flippant disregard for his will—and then to threaten Mikasa. The audacity alone made his fists clench.

He barely noticed Hange keeping pace with him until their arm was outstretched, catching him by the shoulder.

“Levi,” Hange began softly. Their usual spark was subdued, gaze serious, and voice almost apologetic. “I know you’re furious. I knew this would be hell to hear, but I didn’t know how else to—”

“Save it.” Levi shrugged their hand off, glowering. “You knew, didn’t you? That they were going to bring this shit up?”

Hange hissed, as if asking them to confessed was almost painful. “Yes… I knew.”

Levi gritted his teeth, eyes dark with betrayal. “You agreed to this?” Both of them whispering on the empty cold halls of the building.

“I… didn’t agree,” Hange answered carefully. “But I was there when the discussion happened. Look, Zackly and the others—” Hange hesitated, running a hand through their hair. “They’re dead set on this idea. They think they’re planning for a stronger Paradis, and if they think that means Ackerman bloodlines—”

“Save the speech.” Levi’s tone was sharp. “They can be dead set on whatever they please, but I'd like to see them drag the entire MP battalion if they want to force me into this.”

The past year had hardly been easy on either of them, especially Hange with their new title as Commander. Levi was well aware of this—yet the sense of betrayal cut deep. “For fuck’s sake, Hange, you could’ve warned me.”

A tense silence hung between them, until Hange finally sighed and adjusted their glasses, pressing on the bridge of their nose. “You think I had a say in this? Kiyomi's paying for the entire coastal expansion and the railway. She thought it was a decent idea, and with her money backing it, she’s got the final word on everything.”

Levi clicked his tongue, crossing his arms in exasperation. “Those bastards in the upper ranks are just itching to get on my last nerve since we changed the policies.”

“Look, I know it sounds—insane. But maybe… if we don’t try to protect the future of the island, there won’t be one. And if there’s a way to keep the Ackerman bloodline alive, maybe there’s value in that…”

“Don’t give me that bloodline nonsense.” Levi’s tone was ice-cold, his gaze sharp. “This is some harebrained scheme they’ve cooked up. And let me guess: it reeks of Zeke. That bearded bastard’s across the ocean, and he’s still screwing with my life.”

Hange pressed their lips together, saying nothing. The silence was confirmation enough.

“That son of a bitch,” Levi cursed under his breath. “He’s the one with royal blood, not me.”

Hange’s lips twitched in something close to sympathy.

“Well, since you two are such good friends these days, feel free to let him know he can kiss my ass.”

“Levi…” Hange sighed, not because they disagreed but because Levi’s sense of betrayal cut both ways. They were the last two left of the original veterans—family in all but name. It wasn’t just an argument; it felt like a wound between them.

Convincing Levi? Impossible. But convincing her? That possibility hung in the air, lingering like a storm on the horizon. Levi paced with conviction at first, then with dread. They both knew it, and, worse, Zeke likely knew it too. Mikasa had just turned seventeen, still almost a child, recently visited by someone claiming kinship with her clan. Levi couldn’t care less about all the ancestral politics, but he was all too aware of how they worked.

“You can choose whoever you wish for the father,” they had told her, as if it was some generous offer. And, step by step, he watched Mikasa’s face transform from disgust to something akin to acceptance. Perhaps it was because she, too, held a certain pedigree; perhaps she felt duty-bound. He didn’t know, and he didn’t care what methods they used to sway her.

‘She’s smarter than that,’ he tried to tell himself.

But then he overheard Historia, almost childishly enthusiastic, whispering to Mikasa, “See? I told you—we’re girls with responsibilities.” The blood drained from his face. If they’d managed to convince Historia, to make her some kind of pawn in their twisted ambitions, what was stopping them from pulling Mikasa down the same path?

‘It’s disgusting,’ he thought bitterly. ‘Maybe this is how those classist bastards operate. They talk little girls into this like they’re just trading dolls for something more ‘exciting.’’

That night, back in his office, Levi was a restless storm, pacing the room with his suit jacket hanging loose, fingers curled around his glass of whiskey, his movements sharp and frustrated. The glow of his cigarette flared in the dark room as he took a deep drag, gritting his teeth.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Slouched in his chair, forearm draped over his eyes, his mind circled back to Mikasa’s hesitant, almost innocent blush—her teenage imagination painting a faint, rosy tint over whatever twisted future she thought she might face. And in his mind, as if staring him down, were Eren’s haunted eyes, that deadened look of someone who already knew more than he could say. Maybe the brat already knew Levi wouldn’t let it happen.

“She’s a damn kid,” he muttered. The thought of Mikasa shouldering this burden felt like a betrayal of his own values.

Though technically, she was not much younger than many girls who’d borne children before. But this felt different, disturbing— He let out a humourless chuckle, as a man that waits for getting hang. “Those bastards knew… I wouldn’t let them ruin her life like that.”

And like a cursed prophecy that tightened its grip the more one tried to escape it, Levi found himself back in that same damned office, slouched in his chair as if seated at a poker table. Bargaining his future.

Levi sat stiffly across from the military board, his expression a blend of frustration and disgust as they spoke. Zackly lounged in his chair, lazily smoking as the other officials presented folders adorned with detailed painted portraits, lists of family properties, and who knows what else. As they laid the offers on the table, a random thought clouded Levi’s mind: It feels like searching for a button that matches at the notions store.

He was reminded of long strips of fabric with various buttons sewn onto them, each one a potential fit. “Many of the noble families are eager to show their loyalty to the new government,” one officer stated with a practiced calmness. “Some have offered up alliances in exchange for the return of their territories and titles. This includes a number of unclaimed young omegas. You’ll have ample choices.”

Levi’s jaw clenched. He knew they expected him to appear grateful for the options lined up before him, as if he were selecting a new weapon. Instead, he leaned back, crossing his arms tightly. “I’ll be imposing some conditions.”

They paused, exchanging glances. “Naturally, Captain,” one of the men replied, steepling his fingers.

“No fancy bullshit,” Levi declared. “The wedding will be plain. Just a civil ceremony. I have no intention of making a spectacle out of this.”

The room fell silent, the officers exchanging looks that spoke volumes. One of them cleared his throat, hesitating before responding. “Captain, you should consider—”

“I’m not considering anything,” Levi interrupted, his tone sharper than before. “This is a plain arrangement, and it will remain exactly that. I don’t need fanfare or ceremonies—just a quiet signing of papers.”

The officers shifted uncomfortably, their discomfort palpable as they struggled to reconcile Levi’s cold practicality with their expectations. “Think of the girl. Many young omegas dream of their wedding day, waiting for it their whole lives. It’s—” a female alpha soldier attempted to be the voice of reason, but Levi was clearly listening to none of it.

“No buts,” Levi said, his patience wearing thin. “If I’m going to go through with this ridiculous arrangement, it will be on my terms. I’m not dragging this girl through some overblown ceremony when neither of us wants to be there.”

With a loud sigh, Levi lifted himself slightly from his seat to grab the portfolios. He barely looked at them, frowning deeply. “Don’t you have pictures where they look— I don’t know—human?” he spat out sarcastically, noting how overly produced their painted portraits appeared.

“That’s what’s in fashion,” one officer muttered defensively.

Groaning in disinterest, Levi rolled his eyes. “Nobles and their weird tastes.” But as he turned the next page to examine the descriptions, it was as if the world had tilted off its axis. “Sixteen,” he muttered, irritation creeping into his voice. He looked up, venom lacing his words. “You’re offering me sixteen-year-old girls? Girls who could be my damn daughters?”

“It’s common, you know—”

“I don’t care what’s common. Twenty-five,” Levi interjected. “At least twenty-five. I’m not getting tied to a child.”

“Come on,” an exhausted soldier exclaimed, “some are seventeen, eighteen—”

“Twenty-five,” Levi snapped, his eyes blazing. “I’m not interested in any of this unless you bring me someone who isn’t still in their childhood.”

“Be realistic,” Zackly finally spoke up, looking weary and disinterested. “How many omegas do you know that aren’t claimed by twenty-five?”

“Fuck if I know; that’s your job to find out, not mine.” Levi’s anger flared, echoing in the sterile room. “Weren’t you the one telling me to think of the girl? Don’t you think of her?”

“Why? Are you planning on hurting her?” Zackly questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Fuck no.”

“Then I’m not concerned. Choose one and stop being a pain in the ass.”

It was clear they were not going to reach any middle ground like this. Amid the hastily scribbled notes, he noticed a name: Y/N, age twenty-one. He pointed decisively at the line, cutting through the cacophony of voices. “That one.”

There was no picture, no description—nothing. Perhaps it should have raised suspicions, but Levi was too tired for this cheap drama.

“Why her?” one member scoffed, glancing at the paper. “We have better offers on the table.”

Levi didn’t hesitate. “She’s the oldest.” He placed both hands on the table, pushing himself upward. He had made up his mind the night before; he just needed this to be over. Striding toward the door, he exited without allowing anyone to stop him. As he walked out of the conference room, he could hear the murmurs behind him.

As the door shut firmly, one of the cadets held the papers against his chest, confusion written all over his face. Slowly, he turned to the higher-ranking officer. “Shouldn’t we tell him that she’s scheduled to marry this weekend to her childhood fiancé?”

Zackly chuckled, flicking the ashes from his cigarette into the ashtray. Between coughs, he said, “Oh well, he can find out from her once they’re both married. It’s no longer my problem.”

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

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phoenixyfriend · 6 months ago

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Something something Dooku survives the Clone Wars, the Imperial Era, and even a few years past the OT...

And Luke finds him while looking for More Jedi to help him teach.

Chewie recognizes the decrepit old bastard, and there is yelling, but being A Hundred And Nine has mellowed Dooku out in his own dusty hermit hut, on the other side of the galaxy from Ben and Yoda's hermit huts.

All the Jedi ghosts are unhappy with this but Dooku is… not REFORMED, technically, but he's old and tired, even if the Force keeps him a bit more healthy and energized than the average Old Guy, and humans routinely live to pretty unreal old ages in the gffa anyway so really 109 for them is probably like 85 for us.

But yeah. Old mountain hermit (to contrast the desert and the swamp) who's been in hiding from That Dick Sidious since he lost both hands to babyface Vader in 19BBY.

@jebiknights (Sammie) said:

Dooku finds out Luke was also trained by Yoda and is like "oh Yoda finally gave me a younger brother like I always wanted"

Alternately he could probably get Luke to call him Great-Great-Grandfather.

Sammie: Funniest option is he's both which makes Luke even more confused lmao Ghost Obi wan in the background like "stop fucking using non Jedi terms to describe Jedi relationships it doesn't fucking work"

Luke calls him, irreverently, Gramps, but also. Leia definitely recognizes him as a Recent Historic Political Figure, but not until AFTER Luke has already integrated Dooku into his new Jedi school.

"Why did Chewie let him do that?" He thought it was funny. (And/or if you like Chewku, you can make this some sordid exes thing.)

"Why did R2 let him do that?" Best keep evil man in electrical prodding range.

Sammie: Leia comes to the school for her biweekly Jedi lessons and sees the newest teacher was a traitor to the Republic 😭

Best if they can find Quin or Ventress out in the black. Partly because like. Does this make Ventress their step-grandma (Quinlan's on-off something) or their great-great-aunt (Dooku's 4th apprentice)?

Sammie: Both and also Luke's niece. Luke has a migraine by the end of it and Leia is ready to disown herself. Ventress: I didn't realize the Jedi were so incestuous Luke: war flashbacks to before he realized Leia was his sister

Ahsoka in the corner with Spacebucks, five years late "Y'all suck. Hey, Quin."

Sammie: I know you likely didn't bring up Quinlan thinking of QuinObi but now I'm imagining Quinlan declaring himself their grandpa when he meets the twins bc 1) he loves to cause chaos 2) he does/did consider Anakin his kid even if not in neat non Jedi terms and 3) Obi-Wan thought being considered Anakin's father made him sound old, and Quinlan needs to harass him beyond the grave

Dooku must have a cane that the ghosts heckle him about because He Clearly Wants To Be Just Like Yoda.

@lyntergalactic (Lyn) said:

I feel like evil gramps could really bring out Ahsoka's snark once she shows up and that would be highly entertaining Ahsoka is simultaneously his most and least favorite grandchild

She's the most experienced as a Jedi (Ventress went full Sith, not just leaving the Order but following the tenets like Ahsoka, and Quinlan isn't in the lineage), has never Fallen unless you count that thing on Mortis.

Also she WILL bitch Dooku out at this age, and honestly he kind of appreciates the brutal honesty.

Ahsoka: I'm not a Jedi. All the old people: Lies

She brings up the Hondo incident since nobody else is putting in the effort. Anakin and Obi-Wan COULD as ghosts but nooooooo she has to do everything around here.

Sammie: Oh but it sets them off so hard they can barely get the story off from laughing NGL I think the twins did not understand how truly annoying Obi-Wan and Anakin could be together until the Hondo story gets told.

They are The Worst.

#star wars #count dooku #luke skywalker #leia organa #asajj ventress #quinlan vos #quinobi #incest mention #(the canon incident)#quintress #obi wan kenobi #master yoda #anakin skywalker #force ghosts #phoenix posts

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tofixtheshadows · 6 months ago

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Hot take: Laios wouldn't actually mind an arranged marriage. Obviously "reluctant royal being pressured into marriage" is very fun for shipping purposes. But I have harlequin blood, so bear with me. Join me on this journey of character theorizing/shipping nonsense that makes it abundantly clear I have a Scrivener document I'm neglecting.

Laios was promised to someone from a young age. He and Falin both were; it's probably how their parents ended up together. They both broke it off by leaving their village, but it didn't seem to be a factor in Laios's own decision. And when Marcille, presumably, asks about his hypothetical love life (bicorn chapter), he not only brings it up readily, but actually seems kind of flattered? lmao

I love when smug Laios comes out. Underrated factor of Laios's personality for me is how much he enjoys being seen as cool. I think you'd expect Laios to be embarrassed or uneasy over this line of questioning, and the fact that he isn't is fun to me.

So when Yaad and his other old advisors bring up his need for a wife, Laios is ready to go along with it. Not necessarily thrilled by the prospect, but he was raised to think of marriage as a business arrangement you do because it's beneficial for your household/bloodline (as was often the case historically). He's already made the big step to claim a throne, and the idea of becoming village chief after his father seemed to have been vaguely in the back of his head all his life. Besides, if he has to do it anyway, I think he'd take comfort that there was a formalized process for an otherwise socially messy undertaking.

This dovetails neatly with my personal headcanon that Laios is gay but unaware of it. He comes from kind of a repressed culture- or at least I can imagine he does based on context clues- and has spent most of his life being ostracized in one way or another, feeling like he's on the outside of humanity. So he doesn't realize that his lack of attraction to women is unusual- he assumes that nobody really enjoys romance that much. It's not like his own parents married for love. It's just something people play up for stories, right?

It's all tangled up with his fraught desire for human connection and platonic companionship anyway. Meanwhile he's blithely unaware that the things he says about Toshiro are not normal bro things. Oh you'd totally marry Toshiro, Laios? Tell me more.

I see this in Marcille too. Firstly due to her unstable development, which has only recently allowed her to reach maturity (I headcanon her as somewhere between 20-22) and secondly due to her being a half-elf (infertile+a too-long lifespan), I think she has the expectation that she's simply not destined for love. The half-elf character she relates to in her favorite books says as much. So she, too, confuses a genuine lack of heterosexual attraction with the belief that this is just because of her half-elf status distancing her from it. Plus, she spent over a decade as a student/researcher in a nice little sheltered academic bubble, at an all-girls academy populated by adolescents. She's the most sheltered of all the characters: she's only spent the past year in the "real world", and she still focuses all her romantic attention on living vicariously through her favorite characters or her friends (except for Falin, conveniently!).

And Marcille would absolutely want to live vicariously through Laios and his future wife. She would not want him to go through a dispassionate formalized process: she wants her bestie to have a fairytale romance! What is the point of being a heroic king in a mythic castle if you can't even get a love story for the ages out of it?

This would result in a lot of Laios meeting with eligible bachelorettes at Marcille's urging, looking to Kabru for help the entire time and being grilled by Marcille afterwards about what he liked best about each girl. "She had nice, um, teeth?" They're both so close to getting it.

Kabru, meanwhile, is agitating for Yaad and the other advisors not lock the country into a hereditary monarchy, they have the chance to do something radical here, to break away from the systems that the elves and dwarves uphold. At the very least, let Laios marry for love, or formally adopt an heir and name them his successor if he wants, he's already sacrificed enough for the sake of Melini. Don't make him jump through these circus hoops for the chance of some trade agreements, we can get those without a royal marriage. And even if Laios was willing to go along with it, he does look at Kabru like he's his hero for sticking up for him.

The vague unhappiness Kabru feels at the idea of Laios being married off is easy for him to ignore. Kabru didn't actually get better at honoring or even recognizing his own wants just because he's moved past the dungeon. And Laios hasn't gotten the hint about his crush on Toshiro and is still 50/50 on saying casually shocking things, so when he remarks that he doesn't need a wife anyway when he has Kabru, he has no idea why that gets him the looks it does. After all, where he's from, men marry women to run their households, but Laios has castle staff for that, and Kabru is handling the rest?

That comment alone ticks one month off their collective gay awakening countdown.

Anyway. How many repressed gays in their twenties does it take to run a country?

Answer: Yaad can tell you.

#dungeonposting #DUNGEON MESHI SPOILERS #I always have to use that tag for the dumbest reasons. because of my harlequin blood.#Labru #you get that tag because that was the point of my post it just took awhile to get there #also pretend I made some kind of joke with a pun about screwing at the end. believe in me.#Golden Country trio #^tag for ME. rotating scenarios with them in my head is a personal treat.#I haven't figured out where Kabru falls yet #he's very bad at introspection and very good at denying himself #but god knows what a guy like Kabru who moves through society the way he does experiences #several possibilities present themselves and I haven't yet decided which one is most plausible. or funniest.#pairing: to be human

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ew-selfish-art · 1 year ago

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Dp x Dc AU: That one episode of teen titans where they all dress up as Robin + Tim being a gremlin about his legacy + Danny look alike/twin AU.

So there is that episode of Teen Titans where Starfire, Cyborg, Beast Boy and Raven all dress as Robin (Dick) while he's out and it's admitted that the outfit makes them feel cool. Imagine a young Tim hearing that story mentioned in passing by Dick while trying to manage what becomes Young Just-us. And then when Damain becomes Robin?? Gremlin mode activated.

Tim hosts regular 'Robin' Parties, where the idea is that you come in Robin colors, get a mask at the door and everyone gets to basically hang out in civilian clothes without the identity crises for those just getting started. "age appropriate" drinks, games, and good music are all staples. The parties become more frequent once Damian becomes Robin and he pointedly doesn't attend Tim's parties which... Neither of them are really happy about. Family is complicated, but finally, after a few years of cooling off, it's decided that Robin will actually host this years Robin party.

Meaning Tim shows up in casual clothes (MIT sweatshirt) and a mask, and Damian is actually dressed as Robin when the party is starting to get into the swing of things. The point of it is to make sure all the young heroes get to come and start to befriend each other, so there are a few people who show up and have to actually say that they're *insert alias* and this is met with basically "Dope, nice to meet you Robin" etc.

Insert Danny Twin AU (Or just look-alike fuckery) (for either brother but my brain is on Tim Twin au mode).

Danny decides to show up as his human self, grabs a mask at the door before coming in, and is slowly integrating himself into a conversation when someone grabs his arm- "Hey Red your brother is fighting with a newbie about meat products again-"

And Danny doesn't have a brother but my god has he heard this fight too many times with Sam and Tucker- He's going in and he's defusing this situation because he cannot handle the thought of this argument taking over his new friend group. He deals with it enough, okay?

Robin (like, the real one) looks at him curiously while Danny is talking down the other hero Robin (insert here), and the whole room notices when Robin doesn't take the opportunity to dismiss or belittle his older brother (Lmao because its danny). Damian cannot place his unease about Drake (again, Danny, who is not hiding his identity beyond a mask), and simply decides that this isn't worth the effort.

The party moves on but now instead of everyone calling themselves Robin, Danny is distinctly being called Red. It confuses him a bit, he didn't even know Red Robin was going to be at this party (he hasn't met the guy and doesn't know the lore), but he rolls with it because he's made fast friends with Robin (Bart), Robin (Cassie) and Robin (JON). The kid was full little bro energy and it made Danny laugh, he was so surprised when the real Robin joined them and fell into easy conversation with Robin (Jon).

Danny is playing games with a few others when someone goes to grab a broom to clean up- Turns out Red Robin and his boyfriend Kon had been making out in the closet for most of the party- and the whole room looks at Danny like he's tried to trick them. Tim is at first uneasy that so many people mistook him, but once he's in front of his dupe, puzzle pieces start to move around in his head.

"And who are you again, Robin?" Tim asks carefully, though he suspects he has his answer.

"Uh, Phantom, but you know, a lot of people were calling me Red tonight and I didn't get why until just now." Danny laughs nervously.

"Yeah I bet- Find me monday and we can see about a geneology test."

"That leaves us the whole weekend, to do what exactly? Fuck with people by pulling a parent trap style swap?"

"Nature vs. nuture and all but I don't know how you could be anything but my brother with a question like that." Tim grins and they get to scheming.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc crossover #dp crossover #long post #tim drake #danny and tim are twins au #robin party au #dear god someone please write this fic for me #its been rattling around in my brain for ages

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shadesoflsk · 11 months ago

Text

RETROSPECTION & OUTCOME

pairing: leon kennedy x afab reader.

summary: The journey of healing is not an easy one. Obstacles and doubts filled the path Leon decided to take. However, the agent had planted the seed of self improvement and with your help, a strong and resilent tree will grow.

warnings: strangers to friends to lovers, mentions of reader being a nurse, age gap (reader is 25+) angst, hurt/comfort, descriptions of gore, blood and violence, no alcohol consumption but Leon attempts to, Leon's inner thoughts, self doubts, lack of self confidence (from Leon's part) mild mentions of religion trauma, smut, handjob, Leon cries during it, kind of switch Leon, needy Leon (give him a hug please) p in v, creampie, fluffy at the end (yipeee)

word count: 14k

author's note: helloooo :] This is my first try at writing a long fic, I had so much fun writing it. It all started as a character study for Leon and then it ended up as... this lmao. For the first chapters, I had vendetta Leon in mind and at the last one we finally have DI Leon! Please... if you see any mistakes no you don't. Anyway love you guys hope you like this as much as I do.

— masterlist

I. ETERNAL DAMNATION.

His cold blue eyes are a pool of misery and misfortune. The dreadful gaze of an individual who once was and continues to be subject to the violent reality of what a government can do.

He remains stoic to whatever adversity he has to face, one look at him and you would believe this man has no feelings whatsoever. He kills, he gets paid, repeat. A never-ending loop in which many would believe Leon finds pleasure. Especially since he carries himself as the Government Golden Boy aka best weapon. To use and to dispose of, Leon S. Kennedy.

Shoulder pats and praise words stir up a pot filled with anger and hatred — emotions that Leon doesn't often feel with others, just with himself.— He tries not to dwell on them, but it gets so difficult and challenging whenever he hears that his own achievements are cause for celebration. Do these assholes know how many people, infected people, he had to kill in order to bring peace? No, they don’t. Unbeknownst to them, those people could have been saved.

At least in Leon’s mind.

The suited men surround him. Privilege and smugness are qualities that Leon would often use to describe what those who hire his service are. Those congratulations and fake praises ring in Leon’s mind as he keeps thinking about the people he had to betray and kill for the ‘sake’ of his country, for his nation, and for the ego of his president.

But he takes the compliments, like a good boy. The president believes he hit the jackpot with a rightful agent who is proud of his country. God Bless America and in God we trust, he says as his hand reaches for Leon’s. The blue-eyed agent hesitates each time, out of fear of tainting his oh-so-dear boss’ white shirt. Because nobody cared enough to spare him new clothes and a wet towel to clean himself. A trophy to show the world what a powerful human weapon they had. Rough, tall, and with calloused hands, hands of a killer.

Leon S. Kennedy is proof of what the cruelty of a government can do. He is no longer a human, but the shell of a man. His name is printed in many documents which shows the gruesome acts he had to endure, in the name of the country. “Agent Leon S. Kennedy had successfully retrieved a sample of the virus.” “Condor One saved Baby Eagle.” He has received a plethora of names yet none of them really encapsulated who he was.

They have shown that they do not care about their citizens, like at all. Raccoon City was a prime example of that. He sounds like a broken record, the memory replaying in his memory every mission he gets assigned. But, for him, it was his first-hand experience with how cruel and gruesome reality could be.

Tough call, they say. We did what we could, they added. Leon knows all of those phrases by heart now. His gentle nature remains in him, even though it was covered by layers of a rough past and self-taught distrust. But even now, at his grown age, he fully believes they could have done so much more.

His mind is all over the place whenever he comes back from a mission. The usual white and never-changing walls surround everyone at the gathering that the president holds each time Leon ‘succeeds’ in a mission. His fingers seek any type of comfort, they twitch, they pinch his own clothes but nothing works.

People notice, they do. It’s obvious that the spotlight is on him yet he never embraces it. Simple nods and awkward smiles are his way to go and signature gestures. Deep inside, he knows those white-collared dicks spare him weird and pitiful glances every chance they get.

His chest burns with a desire for solidarity and altruism. He feels a lot and feels everything too deep for his own liking. His core dances between his hatred for heroism and the need to be a hero. He doesn’t believe he’s one. Throughout his life he has contemplated who he is and the type of man he has grown to be. His mind is a living hell and he’s the demon incarnated.

He wonders when it all started. Maybe he was doomed for the start, as he stood in front of his parents’ grave asking God why.

Deuteronomy 31:8; “The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” The catholic father who used to hold the mass every Sunday said one morning. Now, did God forget about him? He should have prayed harder, to escape his own damnation.

Strained screams and the reek of rotten flesh fill his dreams. Madness and chaos are the main plots in his nightmares in which he pleads to stop having. His own reality was a mirror of every agony he has to face every day in his line of work. Why is God punishing him even in his dreams?

Those cries of pain and the smell of both burnt flesh and gunpowder are a toxic combination to Leon’s messed up mind. To him, they served as an everlasting proof of his devilish nature. He realizes that the image of innumerable lifeless bodies’ guts all over the floor with his brains smashed over the ground is a common occurrence for him. He becomes desensitized albeit his soul hurting for those who lay at his feet.

Now, he knows that what he's doing is in the name of survival. Millions of people live unaware of the dangerous situations he has to fight on a daily basis, they get to sleep on a warm bed next to their loved ones. If he wants to keep that on, he ought to kill.

But he wouldn’t do it otherwise, he wasn’t built for that life.

But despite that, the usual eerie feeling washes over him whenever he has to pull the trigger. He has grown accustomed to them, on the battlefield he was a fiery pawn, following orders as they told him to.

But as soon as his character ends his performance, his facade and mask falls off his face. He’s no longer a puppet from his higher-ups, he was just him. Leon.

II. RECOGNITION.

He places Matilda — his brush to paint every ground with blood — on his nightstand. To be fair, that’s a habit he can’t just let go. After every mission, his mind is all over the place for the next few days. Every sound activates a fear deep within him that keeps him awake at night and worried during the day.

He washes his hands, a thorough ritual he follows step by step. His hands touch the water, lukewarm to bring him some kind of comfort. He rinses away every blood spot he may have engraved on his bruised skin. The warm and clear liquid reaches his fingernails, which he meticulously scrubs, washing away any leftover of someone’s brain.

He takes pride in being clean. However, it had developed into an obsession at this point. Being dirty meant killing, and killing meant despair. So, he tries to avoid his gaze on the mirror each time he arrives home. Sadly, he usually doesn’t recognize the man that is staring back at him.

Eventually, he turns off the faucet and walks towards the couch. He’s tired, both mentally and physically. He doesn’t get any younger and living as an agent surely doesn’t help his case. But at last, his home. Safe.

He turns on the TV, he’s welcomed by the News Channel which he quickly changes. Nowadays, it appears that nothing good happens in this messed up world, and he doesn’t want to bring sorrow to his home too. He searches through the vast choices of channels until something catches his eye. Casablanca.

A feeble smile forms on his face, a simple thing like that brings Leon a small percentage of happiness, which it’s a lot given his constant state of dullness.

He sometimes quotes phrases from the movies he watches. He genuinely expects someone to notice, his tired blue eyes would roam over the numerous faces of agents, hoping someone catches the meaning behind his words. He’s tired, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to chat with someone.

Nobody seemed to notice, maybe they were busy.

Curiously, he had changed the channel just at the right moment when Rick Blaine said his line. Leon’s favorite.

“I never make plans that far ahead.” Both the character and Leon say simultaneously. It brings Leon a sense of joy. Pathetically enough, his hobbies remind him that he is, in fact, still human.

He sighs, looking around his apartment. It was dull, it showed his lack of decoration and personal touch. He believes there was no point in placing ornaments or things of that sort since he doesn’t even spend most of his time there. In recollection, he has no home. At least not physically.

He’s a man of the world, people look at him and see someone who is strong and independent rather than a simple man. But his heart’s heavy, with a burden and anguish that no painkiller could ease.

He’s tempted to grab a bottle from his cabinet. Drown in the burning liquid and pass out. He doesn’t like alcohol. But he has always been weak to addictions. So, even when he was a rookie cop and his girlfriend broke up with him, he ran to the nearest bar and took all the booze he could. Maybe he should’ve noticed the red flags, and maybe gone to therapy or something like that. But… oh, right, the next day the world literally ended for him.

But, he refrains from doing so. Deep down, he knew that letting his addiction win would be a deadly solution to his problems. Acknowledging is the first step to recovery, experts say. However, he knew that he couldn’t do it alone.

Before even letting more negative thoughts come into his mind. He gets up from the couch and walks toward the bathroom, again. He stays in front of the door for a few seconds, as if scared of going back there. Eventually, he does enter.

His hand reaches for the switch and the lights are turned on. The luminescent white light revealed his face in front of the mirror. He takes one, two, and three deep breaths before fully opening his eyes.

He bites his lips, seeking a sort of relief from that action yet he bites too hard that almost draws blood. He’s trying his best, this mundane act is no longer something that he does daily. So, grant him some recognition.

His eyes travel and land on the mirror and after a while, he fully sees himself. His eyes are wide open, not because he was surprised to discover the man that was in front of him. But to compare him to the one he used to be.

Just a few years ago, his blond hair was still bright, showing signs of his thorough routine. But now, it has turned into a black mop that could no longer be compared to his past self. His stubble has grown too, he was a late bloomer, he didn’t grow a beard until he reached the age of 27 when he could finally see some signs of pores growing hair. But to see his face so… rugged and rough was definitely a slap back to reality.

He takes two steps back, his hand reaching for the hem of his shirt. Swiftly, he takes it off, revealing his chest and abdomen. He was no stranger to his own physique since he obviously showers.

However, the sight that the mirror provided was very different from seeing his point of view. His eyes were observing someone else’s perspective, if he ever had the chance to date someone they would see… that.

A chest which was filled with scars and bruises. They were like tattoos, imprinted on his skin. Those will never fade and if he grants someone the misfortune of dating him, will they be repulsed by the idea of witnessing his tainted self?

He wasn’t a hero, he was far away from calling himself that. But he is starting to think that maybe, just maybe, those marks can remind him of his arduous path. Not in a condescending way, but in a fulfilling memory.

III. FURTHERANCE.

He feels… weird. It’s been a while since he last got a haircut, and having someone holding scissors next to his neck wasn’t something he was looking for. But, there he is.

It took everything in him to call the hairdresser. He has long forgotten how to even speak to someone in a normal setting. “Agent Kennedy here, haircut, out.” He couldn’t say that!

At last, he booked an appointment. It wasn’t the most expensive place, not because Leon didn’t have the money but rather, because he wasn’t looking to be surrounded by luxuries and opulence. A cheap but nice place would do.

Once he arrived, he noticed that he didn’t match well with the place. He knew he carried an aura of mystery and unapproachability but Jesus, it was now obvious with the way some old ladies kept looking at him as if asking: Who the hell is this man?

All of his previous actions led him to where he’s sitting now.

The granny behind him keeps showering in compliments which he couldn’t quite understand. A few years ago, he may have blushed and waved a hand dismissively, but now? He doesn’t see how he could be called a handsome man.

For him, looking good and taking care of himself had stopped being a requirement a few months ago. But it wasn’t something that happened out of the blue. He gradually started noticing the changes and once he realized, his whole appearance had changed.

His eyes are piercing and never changing, an unmistakable aura of exhaustion and helpness surrounds him. Yet, once the old lady's eyes land on him, he can’t help but smile back. It was always in his nature — he lives for others.

It’s always been like this. Naturally, his gullibility and his unfounded faith have shaped and molded him differently throughout the course of years. Having to survive an apocalypse, taking care of an infant, and getting betrayed by a certain someone would sequentially take a toll on him. Nonetheless, his primal wish for altruism and hope will always remain in him. They were his roots which led to creating a strong and fortified trunk.

He’s still hoping this tree will thrive.

The lady asks him how long has it been since he last cut his hair, and he doesn’t know how to respond. Normally, he would cut it himself, since time was priceless and he couldn’t nor wanted to go to a specific place to get his hair trimmed. So he learned by himself, which wasn’t the safest option.

By the way the old woman’s hands brush on his hair, shaking and trembling due to the years, he knows that she knows. It’s obvious by the way some strands are awkwardly cut and overall most of them were misshapen. A poor attempt at maintaining his heartthrob boy hairstyle.

He remains silent — for most of the time. — He doesn’t answer any questions that were directed at him. Not because he didn’t want to, it’s just that his line of job never prepared him for small talk. In fact, chit-chat just meant that someone was trying to gather information out of him, which prompted him to just refrain from speaking

The government has fucked him up.

He acknowledges it. But it’s not easy to make a change when that something is the only thing he has known for at least 15 years of his life. The curse of despair had so unlucky landed on him and he knew no witchcraft which could prevent him from that.

His mind register most things people would overlook. Given his duty at the job, he ought to be an observer. Yeah, he is also a fighter but he relies heavily on his analyzing skills before attacking. Knowing your enemy before striking is what has saved him every damn time.

His permanently furrowed eyebrows and cold eyes are the first thing he notices in the mirror as the woman keeps cutting some of his hair. A hand unconsciously reaches for the little space between his brows.

Maybe if he stops frowning.

Maybe if he stops scowling.

Could he give a better impression of himself?

It’s lacking authenticity, he feels like he’s acting rather than being genuine. But for now, he tries forcing a gentle smile which doesn’t meet his eyes yet it’s better than almost pouting every time he breathes.

All of a sudden, the bell of the door rings announcing that someone else has arrived. Some of the old ladies who are waiting for their turn start getting up from their chairs to greet the person who had just come in.

An everyday customer, that must be. Leon thought.

He was oblivious of how much you are going to change his life.

He can’t see you, not yet. But as the observer he is, he can deduce that this said individual is genuinely loved and appreciated. A drastic contrast between the way he’s received when he returns from a mission. Fake laughs, fake thankful words.

A complete fraud.

You walk as if you own the place, but your stride doesn’t come off as haughty or arrogant. You exude an aura of familiarity, hospitality, and therefore a gentleness that it’s foreign to Leon.

You walk towards his seat, where the granny is cutting his hair. As soon as the gray-haired woman sees you, he observes how her eyes light up with delight and joyfulness he hadn’t seen before.

“Adelaide…” You stop before you even reach Leon. He admires the scene developing through the mirror. He sees you for the first time, you’re definitely a nurse or at least you work in the healthcare area given your uniform. You have your hands on your hips and a playful glare was formed on your face. If he could guess, you just caught this lady doing something she wasn’t supposed to do.

“I think I told you you should be resting.” You squint your eyes as you keep looking at Adelaide, Leon takes note of her name. You are accusing her, yet your friendly demeanor doesn’t falter.

It’s refreshing to see innocent social interactions. It's a welcome-back reality check. At least, at this moment, he could embrace the tranquility. Although it will end as soon as the hairdresser informs him that his hair is done.

“You know I can’t stand still…” Her voice comes out as a booming melody. Even though the years were obvious by the wrinkles on her face, she sounded so animated and beaming. “This job is everything I have ever known.”

Now he can agree on something. However, he is fully aware the situation is deadly different. Between cutting hair and slitting someone else’s throat, there is a vast difference. But, in his mind, he could already make up a conversation based on that information.

“I know, but…” You take a step further and place a hand on the granny’s shoulder. Leon couldn’t help but feel like an outsider now that the three of them were reflected in the mirror. “You could just take a few days off… Your shoulder will thank you for it.”

As you advise the granny your eyes dart from her eyes in the mirror to Leon’s.

For the first time.

You acknowledge his presence with a nod and a simple smile. Time seems to stop as he scans your face. You look younger, you are definitely younger than him. Not young enough for him to feel weird about it, but there was a certain glint in your eyes that told him you haven’t experienced misery and desolation in your life. Unlike him who has yet to experience happiness.

He doesn’t want to indulge so much, but his thoughts are having a blast right now. Maybe it was his lack of social interactions and meaningful relationships but he wants to know more about you.

“It’s quite unusual to see a man here. I would have thought someone like you would go to a barber.” He comes back to reality as he notices you are talking to him. Your eyes remain fixed on his as your smile continues to be displayed on your face.

Someone like… him? Yeah, that statement isn’t new to him. Especially since his demeanor is still so rugged. But hey! He’s making a change even though you don’t know.

“Barbers don’t know how to cut my hair.” He realizes his voice came out rigid and plain. He didn’t intend to, but he is used to his military speech and tone. “They… just don’t get it right…” His last sentence is definitely more hushed but not any less monotone.

“Fair enough. At least Adelaide here knows exactly how to keep your hair safe from a buzz cut.” Leon lets out an amused breath as you joke about his hair. It feels like a gentle breeze, indulging in light-hearted teasing with a stranger. And not any stranger, but you.

He has felt attraction, he’s a man after all. His line of job wasn’t the most ideal to find a partner but he can’t deny how some agents were pretty to look at. However, he couldn’t form a romantic relationship there. Between death and violence, the battleground wasn’t the place to have a partner, form a family, and live happily ever after.

“Yeah…” He sheepishly responds, he doesn’t know what else to add. You had taken the reins of the conversation as soon as you teased him. Now, he hopes something comes into his mind to keep the conversation flowing.

“I haven’t seen any other gentleman wearing this hairstyle,” Adelaide says as she resumes her work. She moves the scissors gracefully. She is — with no doubt — an expert in this area. Though the simpleness of her salon tells him otherwise. “If I may say, I think it really suits you.”

“You should have seen me in the 90s.” Those words leave his lips before he even registers them in his mind. It was an innocuous joke, nonetheless, it carried a hint of self-deprecation. He doesn’t look like his old self, he knows that. Especially after seeing himself in the mirror that night. But nobody there has to know, for them, it was a simple light-hearted joke.

The whole salon erupts in laughter, he doesn’t think his words are that funny. But hey, he will take the compliment.

However, his eyes catch a glimpse of you not laughing. At work, most people wouldn’t laugh at his own words because they weren’t needed. He knew that. But then again, none of you were in a life-or-death situation. Leon doesn’t want to overthink, but… did he come out as a pretentious dude? Or an arrogant dickhead?

Or maybe you have caught the real meaning behind those words.

You let out a breathy laugh, not too long to be considered a giggle but not short enough to be a chuckle. You don’t add anything else, your eyes just linger on his face for a few more seconds before turning on your heel.

For a moment, he’s taken aback. He feels like he’s going crazy but for a split second, he sees himself in you. Not because you shared the same past or path and there was no way you had the same traumas. But the way you had observed him, made him feel analyzed, as if you were studying the way he talked and expressed himself.

Maybe he’s indeed going crazy.

Leon watches you taking a seat on an empty chair, next to another customer who gives you a polite smile. From there, he hears you telling Adelaide that your shift at the hospital has just ended and you just wanted to check up on her.

For a while, he relaxes until Adelaide tells him that they are done. She persuades him to bleach his hair after he accidentally told her that he had blond hair in the past. But he escapes her attempts by telling her that he wants to pay.

He walks towards the register and pulls out a 20-dollar bill. It was quite cheap, especially when he had cut so much hair. At least he looks more presentable now.

You appear out of nowhere as he was paying. Your frame leans over the counter and for a second, you let the awkward silence linger in the air.

Eventually, you speak.

“You don't belong here.” You say without an ounce of malice. You're expressing a fact. Leon has never been around the salon and doesn't look the part.

He frowns slightly, he was keeping up his laid-back appearance just fine until you blurted out your thoughts.

“It's my first time here.” He states before turning around and facing you.

“That I know.” You nod.

“Then… was your comment really necessary?” Leon's words could come off as rude even though it wasn't his intention. But, it seems they don't even phase you.

“Not really.” You shrugged. Your voice was nonchalant. “But as you could already guess, I'm a nurse. And I have seen people like you come and go out of the hospital.”

He is trying to understand what your point is. Under any other circumstances, he would have told the other person off for even daring to speak about him and his lifestyle. He wasn't violent, not at all. But sometimes his limit was put to the test.

“What I'm trying to say is that…” He sees your attempt at explaining yourself. “I think It's safe to assume you're an agent or something of that sort, right?”

Leon doesn't react nor wants to. People knowing he was an agent wasn't a problem since it wasn't a secret.

After a few seconds, he lets out a sigh he didn't know he was holding and nods. Being honest could be the start of a friendship, at least that's what Leon thinks.

“Was it my frame and physique that gave it away?” If he was an artist he could easily say he was getting better at the art of improving. Just a few weeks ago, he would have never left a comment like that lingering in the air.

“Nope.” You cross your arms at the level of your chest.

And there you go breaking his fantasies. He thought his phrase was so flirty.

“There's a scar on your cheek, it looks pretty deep.” You gesture to Leon where the scar is on your own cheek. He instinctively brings his finger to where it is in his.

That's one of the few scars he remembers exactly how he got it. 2004, Spain. He experienced what betrayal was beforehand. Who he used to hold in high regard was the one who didn't hesitate to hold a knife and leave a nasty reminder of his deception.

“I got it in a fight.” He sticks with a simple phrase, not diving deeper. Nonetheless, he realized you’re a perspicacious individual, lying won’t get him anywhere.

“Fight… right.”

Both of you smile knowingly, the smirk giving away a sense of teasing between the two of you, for the first time. Even though you know nothing about how far and wild his job actually was, you had an idea that this said fight wasn’t just a normal and common one.

“So…” Leon sees how you shift your weight from one foot to another. There hasn’t been a shy bone in yourself ever since you entered the salon but now words don’t come out of your mouth as easily as before. “If you ever need a nurse, you can call me.”

As you rummage in your bag, you speak once again. “I may not be the most experienced but believe me when I said I had experience with some military and agents.”

You hand Leon a business card, your full name was there as well as your phone number and the hospital you work in. Your name falls swiftly out of Leon’s lips as he reads the content on the cardstock.

“And senior citizens.” He flashes you a dazzling smile, he doesn’t seem to realize that it’s been a while since he last smiled so freely and so.. natural. It feels like the sun hitting on his skin after a cold day. A warmth he had long forgotten he could feel.

He knew it was soon. Too soon to even imagine being your friend. But as he puts the card in his pocket, he wishes that this could be the beginning of something more.

IV. RELAPSE & RESTART.

He almost falls once he opens up at the door that leads him to his apartment. Another gruesome mission to add to his mental diary and more scars that will adorn his already hurting body.

The same never-ending story, the same story being told once again. He doesn’t know when it will end.

If it even ends.

The last months have been all about his ‘recovery’. He was a patient man, he was sure of that. However, he doesn’t understand how doing mundane things would help him. He was taking baby steps and walking on eggshells, trying not to fall back into his old addictions.

Which were slowly creeping into his mind.

A call from Hunnigan was the last thing he expected a few days ago. He was surprised not to get any task earlier but that didn’t mean he wanted to go back to fight off bioweapons and kill walking undead who were once rational people, with dreams and wishes just like him.

But as much as he wanted to hang up and leave that world behind — knowing that the government wouldn’t give two shits about him and would walk through the same door he previously did and blow his brain — he accepted the mission.

In his own story, he’s a tragic character who can’t break the cursed loop he’s trapped in. The soft sounds of the rain no longer brought comfort to his aching heart, since those constant pitty-patter reminded him of the blood dripping from the people who were killed, by no one else but him.

He often thought he was going crazy, especially now as he walked towards the kitchen and stumbled on his own feet. Seeking something to grab on while he fights off the exhaustion. This last mission had taken a toll on him, both mentally and physically.

His fingers reach for the edge of the counter as he finally stays on his feet without the fear of falling onto the floor. His tired eyes close for a moment as he takes in his surroundings, his lonely apartment and his lonely life and his lonely self and his —.

He shakes his head, he wasn’t exactly in solitude. After that hurried meeting with you, he gained a new friend. He got to know you personally, something that he had missed for the longest time. To actually know someone deeper and not only their last names and occupations.

In exchange, he gave himself the chance to be more vulnerable. He couldn’t deny the attraction that he felt. But he was too afraid to fuck up the chance to have something meaningful with you. He told you about his years at the police academy, and he briefly shared his experience in Raccoon City, trying to be as vague as possible. In other words, he bared his soul to you.

But that didn’t mean everything was filled with butterflies and rainbows.

One night when you were treating one of his injuries (which he never treated in the past) he accidentally told you about his addictions and dark thoughts. Those which showed a persistent state of numbness and trauma. It was never his intention to worry you about those minor things, which he truly believed were not important.

But, as he recalls that night, he realizes that sadly, he can’t just end it all with a bullet through his brain. He has always thought about it, it’s not like the thought hasn’t crossed his messed up mind on those lonely nights when he wished someone would grant him a blink of sleep without having to dream about death and despair.

His eyes open as he once again walks through the kitchen, the moonlight provides a faint source of light that casts on his dark space of living. He remembers that you once told him he should get some lights, and he indeed bought them but he can’t just seem to find enough time to put them on.

His mind wanders through the moments he has spent with you. You always said the most soothing of things, when you wanted to. You advised him, told him how worthy he can be and how special he must be to others even though they don’t know it yet.

Another step.

He didn’t quite catch the meaning of those words. For him, he only brings despair wherever he goes. A demon of destruction and annihilation. If hell had a list of its next guests he believes his name would be on the top of that list. God wouldn’t want him in his paradise.

One more step.

Nonetheless, you weren’t a teddy bear who only chanted words of praise and fairy-tale stories. You called out his bullshit, especially when he dared to joke about going back to his old habits.

Stop.

“Would you like a glass of whiskey?” He would sarcastically ask you whenever you visited him at his apartment, knowing the kind of reaction he would get out of you. You had none of that, though. As soon as he uttered those words, the grip your hand had on his arm would get tighter to the point that Leon would beg you to stop it.

He knew you genuinely cared for him and he convinces himself that you’re wasting your time with someone like him. Someone already broken from the start. You were younger, with a life ahead of yourself, and a career to follow. And like the devil incarnate that he is, he is stopping you from that.

The story repeats itself, everything he touches turns into dust. He’s no longer a human but the shell of a man who once had dreams of becoming a cop. To become someone who would help innocent people. But instead, he’s killing those same poor souls in the name of the fucking government.

His fingers graze over the cabinet.

He despises his life, he hates everyone who forced him to follow this path. The resentment flows in his system as his hand grips the cabinet door even tighter; if he wasn’t so tired from his mission, he would have broken the tacky wooden furniture.

Why does it have to be this way?

Why does he have to continue witnessing the horrors of his life every day?

Why do the ghosts of people haunt him every day as he tries to close his eyes and relax?

Why has he become so desensitized to the bloodshed and yet as soon as he comes back to reality, it knocks the air out of his lungs?

And why is he already unscrewing the lid of his whiskey?

Time slows down for a moment as he gambles his choices. It's been months since he last took a sip from his so beloved whiskey. But at the same time, just one tiny drop would crumble all of his progress.

But why is progress so important if the product is going to be the same? Even if he gets better, his life won't. The only difference is that he may smile more during missions and act like everything is fucking alright even if it isn't.

But he isn't so lucky to fall deeper into his hell that easily. As soon as the cap falls onto the floor, the front door knob twists, announcing that someone is entering.

And who else has a key to his apartment?

The last person he wants to see right now.

The door creaks, antagonizing the imminent moment when you would see him at the scene of the crime with him being the culprit of his own homicide.

“Leon?” He hears you say as you step in, the darkness of the room allowing him a couple of seconds to hide the murder weapon – the bottle – and act clueless. But it seems that not even his nervous system is on his side. He just stands still.

“Sorry for being late. I had one hell of a shift back at–...” He sees your frame as you approach the kitchen. Your face falls momentarily, taking in the sight you were watching. Disheveled hair, bruises all around his face, and dark eyebags that gave the impression he hadn't slept for weeks.

Your eyes fall on the bottle in his hand. There was no cap which leads you to believe that he was drinking. Leon wanted to scream and tell you that you got it all wrong, but no words left his lips.

“Are you drinking?” Anger-filled, you take long strides before reaching for the bottle. Your eyes scan the content, seeing that it is half empty. Your accusatory gaze falls on Leon's.

“It's not what it looks like.” Worst phrase ever. He knows that he's telling you the truth, yet he couldn’t come up with anything worse than that.

He looks like a kicked puppy, his eyes wide open as you keep staring at him with those eyes filled with… disappointment which it's worse than being screamed at. He wasn’t built for that. He was used to resentment looks, to punches and kicks. But disappointment came every time he had to tell families that their father wouldn’t make it that night because he died on a mission. It came each time he had to inform a mother that their beloved son succumbed to a virus.

The once rookie cop still lives within him. The one who hates disappointing people, the one who wants to save everyone. But especially the one who can’t do it alone.

“Then help me understand.” You place the bottle on the kitchen counter. Your stare doesn’t falter yet a hint of concern washes over your face. “Because all I see is you drinking after literally promising me that you’d never do it again.”

As a matter of fact, you didn’t actually see him drinking. He wanted to say that, but he knew it would bring even more anger to your already burning expression. However, as soon as that thought left his mind, another one came.

The sole fact that he didn’t drink, doesn’t spare him from any culpability. If it wasn’t for your intrusion, he’d be lying on the couch, wasted and intoxicated waiting to pass out.

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. Leon isn’t dumb, he’s exhausted but he’s aware of how much you’re holding back. You would never scream at him, that’s obvious. But you didn’t want to bring even more self-hatred to him.

He had his own mental battles, ones you will never understand no matter how much he describes them to you. His anxiety was always bothering him, like an annoying bug buzzing in his ear. You knew how overwhelming everything was.

And you knew how recovery wasn’t an easy step to take, but it definitely takes so much maturity and perseverance, something that Leon surrounds himself in – even though he doesn’t see it. He’s a fighter, he’s a hero, he’s a lover. He keeps fighting and fighting even when he doesn’t see an end. But he mastered the art of moving forward.

So, he’s allowed to fall from time to time.

“Did you drink?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Were you planning on doing it?”

He’s silent for a moment, he’s afraid that his answer will mean more disappointment from you. That you will get to see how pathetic he really was.

“Yes.” He eventually confesses.

You absentmindedly nod, letting out a long sigh.

“Another mission?”

“...yes.”

You didn’t ask for the details, knowing – to an extent – about Leon’s job, you knew it must have been so impactful in order to almost throw him back to his old friend, alcohol. And you knew Leon was like a sponge, he absorbs everything he experiences and never tells anyone. You thank God that he accidentally told you about his addiction, now you can at least protect him.

“It was…” Leon continues speaking, his fingers scratching a spot on the kitchen counter. His eyes don’t meet yours, as if he’s trying his best to make the words come out of himself. “It was really bad this time.”

He lets out a dry chuckle that sounds more like an attempt to water down the situation. One thing about him is that he doesn’t cry. He wouldn’t let someone see that side of him. He’s rigid, he’s stoic, he’s unemotional. He’s a DSO agent, born to serve his country and die for it.

But right now he wants to be a child again.

He wants to be that same infant who would fall on purpose just to get kisses from his mother. He wants to be that same innocent child who could come back running to his mom’s arms when the world was too scary.

He wants to stop the world for a second and cry at the top of his lungs, he wants to punch a wall until his knuckles bleed, he wants to be held, he wants to be told everything will be okay even if it will never be okay.

His thoughts drift to when he was younger – to when he could imagine himself being a better person. If he could speak with himself, what would he say? The image of a tiny him crosses his mind, a young Leon playing all by himself with tiny police cars.

Within him, there’s a rookie cop begging for help amidst the gruesome scenario he had to face back in 1998. Beneath all the layers of self-hatred and resentment, hidden in that dead gaze.

He shakes his head, in a poor effort of swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat. An imminent sign that his emotions will fall like a waterfall, reminding him of his own weaknesses. His curtain of hair falls onto his eyes, blurring his vision.

Or was it his tears? He no longer knows.

He deserves an award for how hard he’s trying to stop the inevitable. His fingers shake, his breath gets heavier and his heart aches. But he couldn’t bear it for much longer, especially knowing that at least, he had someone to go to when his mind was too much for him.

So, he allows himself to feel human again.

“It was horrible…” He finally breaks down. He silently lets the tears fall from his eyes as he sobs. The thought of every mission is on his mind as the constant spams of his sobs control his body.

He feels like the air has been knocked out of his lungs, the uncontrollable way that he chokes on his sobs makes his throat constricted.

He lowers his head, he doesn’t want you to see how weak he has become. A tough agent simply doesn’t cry. An agent bites, chews, swallows, and shuts up.

Silence sets in the kitchen, occasionally broken by Leon’s tears and choked breaths. His fingers itched to grab something, to hold onto something. To feel that he wasn’t alone, that he was indeed not all by himself in this messed up world.

You slowly reach for him. Baby steps, for someone who was touched starved, even if he was unaware of that fact. For someone that’d jump whenever he feels touched, because his mind can’t let go of the fear of being bitten, of being killed.

You quietly made your way to Leon’s hand, your fingers ever so grazing it. Feather touches brushes against the back of his hand, making sure to notice if he shows any signs of discomfort. There were none.

However, you surely notice that his sobs have stopped for the time being. He’s still sniffing though. As if on cue, his glassy eyes lock on yours, before you fully intertwine your fingers with his.

You didn’t hug him immediately, you didn’t throw your arms around his neck at the very right moment when he started crying, and you especially didn’t give him a shoulder pat as if saying “Don’t cry.” He appreciates the fact that you took it slow, you gave him a warning and proceeded further when he allowed you to.

Loving takes time, and loving Leon would surely take longer than anything you have experienced. You have treated many patients, you know that the injuries in a body heal fairly quickly. Now, the wounds in a soul that was doomed from the start are not something that easy to mend.

After a while of your fingers being intertwined and sweat covering the palm of your hands, you feel the faintest squeeze, coming from Leon’s side. You look at him and see a tiny smile formed on his lips with some dry tears adorning his face.

You say nothing, scared to break the atmosphere of tranquility that had formed after Leon stopped crying. It took some seconds for Leon to muster up the courage to go further, intimacy and platonic touches were already something he was unfamiliar with. Now, he had to add romantic feelings to that list.

If he had met you when he was younger, he’d have surely asked you out. Take you on a nice little date and steal a kiss or two. But now, he was trapped in the course of the years, older and supposedly wiser. However, you were the one who was being strong – for him. Not the other way around.

But, as much as he wants to pity himself and wonder about those what-ifs, he has a friend now. He would take care of that heart of his in the future. For now, he wants to embrace the one friendship he hasn’t tainted yet.

The one person who still hasn’t seen the horrors that this world has to offer.

He untangles his fingers from yours and looking at your eyes one last time, he brings your hand to his cheek. The palm of your hand bringing some warmth to his skin.

With his eyes closed now, you see an expression you haven’t seen before. A peaceful one, as if he was sleeping without his usual nightmares. It was comforting, in a sense, knowing that you have brought a moment of serenity to his tumultuous life.

You were surprised at first, not expecting Leon to show that display of affection. However, part of you understands that he was seeking comfort. It’s been a while since he last felt safe with someone, someone who he could cry with, someone who wouldn’t judge him.

Your thumb grazes over his stubbled cheek, wiping away any proof that he has been crying.

“Thank you…” His voice is barely a whisper, you almost didn’t hear him singing his gratitude.

You want to say “You’re welcome” or “It’s okay” but none of those phrases convey what you really wish to show. Saying the first one would dismiss all of your previous actions as a simple attempt to comfort him. And the latter was a lie, it’s not okay, even if you wanted to believe it yourself.

“I got you.” You stick with that one. It wasn’t a lie but a promise you plan on fulfilling. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You promise?” He asks, opening his eyes. His tone is a hopeful one.

“I do.” You reassure him.

With your free hand – the one that wasn’t on Leon’s cheek – you reach for the bottle of whiskey that was long forgotten after their little situation.

“But before that, we need to get rid of this.” You show it to Leon before he chuckles. “We’re now only drinking apple juice.”

He didn’t miss the use of we instead of you. Maybe he’s reading between the lines, but he hopes that you’re by his side now that he wants to leave his addiction for sure. He wants you to see how much he can achieve if he sets his mind on it.

“Apple juice it is.”

V. ABSOLUTION.

The nakedness of his body didn't override the vulnerability he showed once he let you in his life, mind, and soul. But as you help him wash his back, he can’t help but reminisce about that first night when he first saw himself in the mirror.

He remembers being insecure about showing his scars to someone, scared that the other person would be disgusted by the sight of it.

However, you weren’t repulsed, far from that. In your mind, Leon’s skin served as a canvas and each bruise and scar were strokes of a paintbrush. In this case, they showed Leon’s hard life and non-achievable freedom. They showed how much Leon had endured and how many fights he had won.

Therefore, they were proof that Leon was a lover of life. He loved everyone else’s lives that he would sacrifice his in order to protect the world.

Leon sometimes drops hints about his job. He didn’t directly tell you about the government and its fucked up methods, but you collected the clues and formed your own puzzle.

He was forced to join.

It was strange, in a way. To know that a gentle soul like him had to face the hostility of a country, of a government that could easily threaten someone into joining the force. However, you weren’t clueless about its power.

Eventually, after those hints, other hints came along the way.

Leon was sweet, funny, and a gentleman. Your dynamic as a nurse and patient was long forgotten even though you still tend to some of his wounds. And your friendship shifted into something more, especially after the whiskey situation months ago.

However, even though his qualities overshadow his flaws, there’s something he can’t hide.

He’s too awkward for his own good.

Ever since the alcohol incident, Leon would always try to be smooth and compliment you over the simplest things. “Have you done something different to your hair? No, you didn’t? Oh… Well, it looks good” He would often facepalm himself because he couldn’t flirt even if his life depended on it.

Eventually, after those not-so-discrete hints, he took matters into his own hands. He often faked minor injuries. “You don’t understand, my eye literally hurts” and he would have access to admire every tiny detail your face had to offer. From your moles to the way your eyebrows furrowed trying to concentrate.

And that led to feathery touches. In the name of friendship, of course.

After one dinner – that Leon so gratefully prepared – you would often find yourself sitting on the couch, shoulders pressed to one another as you played with his rough hands. You would ask him where he got that scar, how he got this one right here, wow it looks really deep.

And he let you because he did the same. Because those angel-like touches soon turned into endlessly staring sessions where silence was more inviting than any word could be. You gazed into each other’s eyes for only God knows how long. Expecting that the other one would break the intimate moment but none of them had the heart to do so.

It would be an understatement to say that Leon felt so safe with you. Over the months, Leon had gotten to know what a home felt like. His apartment remained the same, physically and aesthetically speaking. But the way it immediately lightens up when you arrive – yeah, Leon could finally call it home.

That’s why, it was so easy for Leon to let those words slip out of his mouth one night when you were leaving.

“You feel like home.”

And for a moment, you let those words sink into you. You thought you were merely an acquaintance, a simple friend at most. But no – there he was, Leon Kennedy, US government agent, telling you that you’re his home.

Meanwhile, the silence at that moment made Leon go insane. He thought he fucked it up, you would surely run away now. Who the fuck says that someone is their home? Shit shit shit—

“You’re my home too.”

And that was everything he needed to hear to stop all of his dark thoughts from appearing once again. The darkness that embraced both of them set the perfect scenario to indulge in this crucial moment. A late confession, but a real one.

As he gazes into your eyes, he can’t help but wonder if this tiny fragment of happiness would go away like everything else had in his life. You’re too precious, too important to die, to vanish from his life and never come back.

And your hand reached for his cheek, your thumb caressing the same scar you noticed when you first met him, he couldn’t help but ask God to grant him one more chance in life. He promises — in a fragment of seconds — to be a better human, to be a better citizen but please, don’t take away this last string of hope he’s holding to.

And he felt that God had finally responded to his prayers when he saw how you leaned closer, letting your lips find his in a gentle but so meaningful and awaited kiss. He hesitantly parted his lips, scared that this may be a dream. But of course, he doesn’t dream so that had to be the reality. The sorrow, the anxiety, the longing, and the expectations — all of those were long forgotten as he mentally thanked destiny for this.

“Earth to Leon” You giggle behind him as you rub a sponge all over his back. You were careful not to be so rough on his already aching back. “A penny for your thoughts?”

Of course, he found himself daydreaming.

From that night, his relationship with you skyrocketed. And his home became your home too.

He doesn’t know when it happened, but he found himself getting even more comfortable with you. He didn’t even need to ask himself — letting you see him naked as both of you wash each other’s bodies? Yeah, it was definitely love.

And he loves being in love.

“I just spaced out for a bit.” He responds with a yawn, the silence that surrounded both of you was inviting to just sleep throughout the night. Funnily enough, you only just sleep. Leon was grateful the first nights since he was getting used to the fact that someone else was sleeping on his bed.

But now he was growing a bit impatient.

Especially with your lingering touches.

As you let the water wash away all the soap, your lips soon find his back, pressing soft kisses on each scar that adorned his skin. “It’s okay…” a kiss on a tiny scar. “Are you going to take your sleeping pills tonight?” Another kiss on a scar that was near his shoulder.

Right… he was put on medication. He often takes sleeping pills when his eyes won’t shut down even if drowsiness is engulfing him. But lately, sleep has become easier, and his nightmares have decreased.

He’d like to think that after you started sleeping next to him, his mind started to feel at peace. But that was something unreal, nobody could fix someone.

But he had to be honest, you surely helped him a lot.

“Not tonight.”

He feels you nodding as your chin lays on his shoulder blade. It’s in moments like these where he thinks that life doesn’t sound so bad. As he zones out and lets you do all the job, he realizes that maybe it’s okay to keep on living.

He’s a big teddy bear, to say the least. The DSO agent who once swore duty to his country was pushed aside when he was with you. Why would he need to keep up his facade when home meant security, therefore you are what makes him safe. So, as you help him out of the shower, drying him off with a towel he lets you take the reins, his body on autopilot mode.

His strong arms wrap around your frame, perfectly molding and fitting like puzzle pieces. It feels like the flow of water, gently swaying your bodies until they reach their destination, their little nest away from everything outside.

He takes pride in serving, providing, and protecting. It was deeply imprinted in him, right in his bone marrow. The blood that runs through his veins pushes him to never stop, to continue working for others.

However, as you help him sit down on the bed his mind shuts down for a moment. He allows himself to take this moment of peace and drown himself in it. Be a little selfish, if he can. The tranquility of a domestic setting was still so foreign to him yet he doesn’t understand how he could’ve lived without feeling this for so long.

The towel around his midsection hugs him just right to prevent the material from falling. His hair is still a little wet, and so is yours. You use the extra towel to help him dry off.

He very much enjoys the lazy touches you share at nights like these. It was a nice reminder that the darkness of the imminent dusk will not bring more nightmares, but peaceful dreams. The ghost of his past was getting tired of haunting him, it seems.

You’re still pretty careful with him, as if you were handling fine ceramic which in a sense, he was. He was shattered porcelain, glued back together with utter care. You both were artists, who completed with great skill this piece of art called life.

And now, your lips are acting like a brush, as they touch Leon’s skin. Kisses are planted along his jaw and he lets out a sigh from the feeling of being treated with so much devotion. If he could serve as a blank canvas, he was ready to rewrite his story with you.

Or maybe not rewrite, his past made him a person as much as it hurts. His grief, his pain, and his previous solitude built up the man that he is now. So, he will add another page to his life story. He will paint another landscape where the sun rises and casts its lights on the world.

He looks at you and sees nothing but raw love and a hint of desire hidden behind those orbs. He notices, then, that just like him you are indeed eager to please him in the other sense of the word. It was embarrassing to realize that he shouldn’t have kept quiet about his needs when you had already proved to him that it was okay to speak, to think, to feel.

It’s been a while since he last let himself be this physically vulnerable. Sure he wasn’t an inexpert in the area but it has never been this intimate. Hearts never bonded and names weren’t remembered. Never has someone truly cared about his welfare before. To put it a name, he’d have called it a trade. He let off some steam and the other part got what they wanted. No strings attached and surely no feelings hurt.

However, it would be a lie if he told himself he didn’t crave to actually make love to someone. To feel someone’s body brushed against his in a sweet and gentle motion. To let himself and his soul be kissed with so much love that it would make him cringe.

You stop your waterfall of kisses for a while, letting the silence linger for a few seconds as you grab his hand. Slowly, you interlace your fingers with him, a well-known display of affection from you. Your signature, you may even say.

“Hey…” His eyes search yours, and he sees how you’re looking for approval, for his consent. He once heard eyes are the mirror of someone’s soul and the world suddenly feels so small as he remembers that he met those same eyes months ago, unaware of the effect you’d have on him.

“Hey.” You repeated, for the second time this night, his mind decided to wander again. “Is it okay if…” you trail off, not because of embarrassment or sudden shyness, not at all. But he can deduce that you wanted him to finish your sentence.

I’ve been dying to touch you. I’ve been craving you touching me, he wanted to say. However, his sense of decency stops him from uttering that rather needy phrase. In a way, he can infer that you already know about his lustful desires. It was a matter of time before both of you indulged in those carnally and normal needs.

Nonetheless, he is oblivious that you won’t let this night be like any other. No, you wouldn’t try anything too crazy — not yet — But after months of knowing him deeper and rawer, you know he’s tired. Exhausted from his life, exhausted from his job, and overall drained. He deserves to be treated right and you’ve been excelling in that task.

But, you’ll show him that he can be as greedy as he wants to be.

“You can trust me.” You say in a hushed tone as if you were whispering a secret to him. Your hand slowly descends until it reaches where the towel meets his waist.

“I do trust you.” He responds with a determined tone amidst the suggestive move of your hand. “I feel like I won the lottery with you.”

“Is that so?” You laugh, resuming your kisses around his stubbled cheek. Although this time, they carry some neediness in them.

“Positive.” He lets out a shaky breath as your finger ever so grazes over where the towel is tucked in. “Because you saw good in me when I had nothing to offer, you—”

“Stop.” Your voice remains soft even though your command doesn’t falter. ”None of those self-loathing words right now.”

He’s speechless for a moment before he slowly nods and lets your hand go lower. Leon feels his blood going south just from a few words.

But then again, loving you was really easy. So it was no surprise that he found himself already leaking at the anticipation of your imminent touch.

“Let me make you feel better.” You whisper, allowing your hand to undo the towel that was previously wrapped around him. In a swift movement, it falls on the floor exposing his already hard length.

You glance at Leon one last time and observe his reaction. There was no sight of changes of mind or hesitation, so you free his and your desire.

You connect your lips against his neck, and with gentle sucks, you prepare him for what’s about to come. Your wish —besides touching him— is bringing comfort in such an intimate act like this. He has trusted you with his soul and body before, that’s correct. But right now, you can feel the level of loyalty and therefore love he’s showing you.

Your hand reaches for his dick, you thumb the slit of his tip collecting the precum that has already formed there, using it as a lubricant.

Your fingers circle around his cock and, slowly, you start stroking him. You don’t want him to cum just yet, the feeling of being treated like this was something you want him to drown in. So, you keep up the steady pace.

You disconnect your lips from his neck and focus your eyes on your ministration on his cock. The lewd sounds combined with the faint whimpers coming out from his lips were almost like background music that you are starting to love.

He takes the opportunity of you pulling away from his neck to hide his face in the crook of yours. His breath tickles your skin as he continues letting out the most pretty sounds you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck…” He hisses as his word gets lost between the shlick sounds of your hand jerking him off. His nose brushes against the side of your neck as his cries fill your ears. You can hear him whispering your name from time to time, as well as some other curses of his own.

However, his tiny cries of pleasure soon turned into real sobs.

No, he wasn’t sad but Christ, it was the first time actually took their time to focus on his pleasure and his well being. He always thought that love was never meant for him, that the simple act of falling in love would be impossible and unachievable. The thought of having his life attached to someone else used to send shivers down his spine.

Now, his world is no longer black and white, your mere existence brought color to his life.

Your hand stops for a minute, worried that you may have done something wrong. That leads Leon to pull away from your neck as some tears roll down his face.

“Sorry… I — just continue please…” The desperation in his voice didn’t go unnoticed as he went back to nuzzle against your neck. And even if he was dazed out at this very moment, you will remember to talk about this again at another time.

“It’s okay, let it all go.” You reassure him as you resume your previous motions. It doesn’t take long before your hand sends him over the edge and close to his own climax.

You pump him, your thumb grazing over the head of his dick from time to time. He absentmindedly thrust his hips up into your hand, seeking his near release. For him, you were granting him a visit to Heaven itself. Just the mere touch of your hand had him seeing angels and cherubims. How would it feel to be deep inside of you?

His lips are red from biting them, attempting to muffle his moans. His brain is a mess, with thoughts of you and only in there and his cock is throbbing as it chases his own high. Overall, Leon was putty in your hands.

And by the way, his hips are starting to miss their rhythm, you know that it was a matter of seconds before Leon came undone in your hand.

“You’ve been so good for me…” You coo, still jerking him off with a slightly faster pace now. “You deserve to cum, don’t you?” You were always good with words but Jesus, he didn’t expect you would literally talk him through it.

As you whisper those praise words, he can’t stop his hips from rutting and bucking into your hand. “Yeah…— fuck — I’ve been so good. Please, let me cum.”

The image of a tough agent begging for release will surely imprint in your mind for a while.

“Of course.” Your lips tug into a smile as you pick up the pace. It was a sight to behold, seeing Leon coming undone in your hands with his eyes rolling to the back of his head, and a dazed out expression that brought butterflies to your tummy.

Eventually, your hands slow down as Leon writhes under your touch. He lets out a loud muffled whimper as white thick ropes of cum spill onto his stomach and of course, your hand.

He stays still for a while, letting his body rest for a second. He plants lazy kisses on your neck as a way of saying “Thank you” since words couldn’t really translate what he was feeling right.

“Shit—” After a while, Leon curses as his half-lidded eyes meet yours. His expression is one of exhaustion but his lazy smile tells you he was brimming with happiness. He reaches for his towel that was previously thrown off and cleans your hand.

“Are you ok?” You ask as Leon wipes your hand, you can’t help but let out a giggle at the considerate action.

“Yeah but…” He trails off as he cleans his abdomen too. You can already predict what was going on in that head of his. “What about you?”

“I’m okay Leon.” You sigh as you bring your now clean hand to his cheek. “Your pleasure is mine. Besides, you’re exhausted.”

But as much as your statement was true, you can’t deny the desire that was dripping between your thighs. Between the intimacy of your act and having Leon so vulnerable in your hands, your system knows what it wants.

“I am.” He doesn’t deny the fact that your ministrations sucked the life out of him. But he can keep going. For the first time in his life, he is grateful for his stamina as an agent. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t do it.”

Before you could even protest, Leon was already kissing your neck. The scent of your body wash filling his nostrils as his lips get hungrier and needier for the taste of your skin. And as you attempt to once again speak, he muffles your words with his mouth on yours.

You feel your reasoning go weak as well as your limbs. It took a few kisses for you to comply and let yourself be laid on the bed, strong but gentle hands holding you close even when you fell on the soft mattress.

He’s above you for a second as he admires the view. Your towel, unlike his, was still wrapped around your body. You wriggle your way to where the pillows of the bed are and you wait for him there.

He wastes no time to join you, carefully lying next to you rather than above you. You catch a glimpse of what he’s trying to do. One of his calloused hands reaches your waist and softly motions you to roll over your side.

You roll over and you’re met with your reflection on the mirror that was next to your bed. Funnily enough, it was perfectly placed so it showed both of your bodies. Somewhere deep in your mind, you wonder if Leon set up the mirror there for this right purpose.

But then again, Leon was spontaneous, behind all of his layers of grumpiness and sadness that once used to surround him, you knew his sappy, corny, and cheesy side that was hidden. And now, you get to notice his quirks every single day.

He grips your hips as he lays sideways too, slightly spooning you. “You no longer need this…” He murmurs as he takes off your towel, the sight of your bare body in the mirror has his mouth watering. Acting like a damn dog wasn’t on the list of things he’s proud of.

As he discards the fabric that covered your body, you feel his once again hard cock. But this time, it was painfully close to your core that you could already feel every vein brushing against your walls.

“May I?” He knows your answer, he’s just asking for the sake of it. To hear your voice dripping with lust and neediness. To hear you hum that yes in your sweet tone as always.

“Please…” Your whisper was enough to make his cock twitch. What is with you and your voice that melts Leon whenever he hears you? You’re both his salvation and weakness. He can’t function without you.

He has always wanted to leave a mark in this world. That he had indeed existed for something else than death and destruction. That he was more than Leon Kennedy, the US’ best weapon. He wanted to show the world that he, Leon — just Leon — was more than his messed-up destiny.

He loves, he desires, he laughs and he yearns for connection. And right now, his body’s aching to feel you around him.

He snuggles closer and wraps a tight arm around your waist, hugging your abdomen just right. Instinctively, you arch your back, letting your rear brush against Leon’s dick making hiss from the friction.

For a moment, he stops hugging you. You almost whined for the loss of closeness when you feel Leon guiding his dick which easily slides through your wet folds. The tip of it bumps against your clit sending electricity all over your body.

He’s savoring this moment. Sadly, he doesn’t think he’ll last much longer once he starts. But, at least, he knows that this won’t be the last time since he finally allowed himself to be selfish, to wish happiness for himself.

Happiness has a name and is both yours and Leon’s.

At last, he pushed into you, just the tip for now. Admiring your face in the mirror, he whispers sweet nothings against your ear. Rambles about how perfect you look and feel right, how lucky he is, and so on.

“Look at you…” Leon points at the mirror and you open your eyes which are glassy from all the pent-up desire you’ve been holding back. At any other moment given, you’d have been quite self-conscious about the exposure of your naked body. But Leon — as you once did with him — is eager to show you that you’re indeed a sight for sore eyes.

“Look how perfect you look being mine.” Even though his words could sound possessive to anyone else, you know his voice brings out affection and tenderness. There are a few things Leon could call them his. And most of them are mundane items that don’t exactly bring comfort to him.

But to call you his was something that he has always looked for. To show you off, buy you everything you’ve always desired, and tell the world that he had finally found his home. His one and only.

As he finishes his statement with a kiss on your cheek, he eases himself into you. He pushes all of his length as he hushes you once you hiss from the stretch.

“Shhh there you go…” He once again wraps his arm around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he inhales the scent he has grown to love. The same that has been lulling him to sleep ever since you decided to move in with him.

He stays still for a few seconds, the feeling of filling you up could make him cum right on the spot but he stops himself. He distracts from your pulsating walls by kissing your neck and sucking on the skin which will clearly turn a soft purple color the next morning.

The pain soon turned into comfort and therefore it resulted in pleasure. As he hears you saying a soft “You can move” he slowly pulls out before thrusting into you with the same pace and force. He feels your walls clamping down his cock as he continues his motions.

He slides in and out with lazy thrusts, his and your eyes are closed as heavy breaths and drowsy moans leave your lips. You were correct, he was exhausted from his previous high. But the way you drowsily made love was making this whole thing even more perfect.

“Taking me so well.” He murmurs against your skin, his breath tickling your neck as he grips your waist even tighter than before, as if he is scared that once he opens his eyes you won’t be there. “Sucking me in, like you know I belong here.”

His hand goes to your chest, where he plays with one of your nipples. His fingers pinching the sensitive spot as his hips continue lazily bucking into yours already feeling like his mind was all over the place.

You feel a heat forming on your belly as Leon continues whispering words you can’t quite register now. Too drunk in desire and too cock drunk to even care. “Fuck I love you so much…”

“I love you too.” You can’t really say anything else, everything would be sentences with no coherent meaning or sense. So you stick with your favorite phrase, you could sing every day that you love Leon, and he would do the same. Because the word love was once so far away from him.

It was poetic to see that Leon could feel his second climax of the night near as he heard you say that you love him. The back and forth of his hips slightly increase their speed but it remains true to the lazy nature of the act right now, though.

“I’m close.” Leon stutters as he says those words. “Can I come inside you? Please tell me I can.” There is some desperation in his voice, an aching and burning desire to paint your insides.

“Fuck, yes. Yes, you can.” You manage to say before Leon lets out countless thanks you. Your body starts writhing under his grasp as your fingers start digging into Leon’s arms, leaving an imprint of your nails on his skin.

“Cum on me. Go ahead, do it for me.” He coos, coaxing more sweet whimpers out of you. “Let me fill you up.”

You let out a muffled whimper as you came undone. He could feel your cunt gripping him as you reach your desired orgasm. Eventually, Leon’s hips which were previously rocking into your and slapping against his skin are now slowing down.

The wet noises sound so filthy yet Leon is having a blast right now. He could imagine himself getting to experience this every night with you by his side. Who could have thought that selfishness could be so rewarding?

With a low grunt, he cums inside of you as he promised. Letting his load fill your insides. He couldn’t hide the satisfied smile that formed on his lips. What a view.

He remains inside of you for a bit longer than needed. You can’t judge him, especially with the way he nuzzles into your neck letting out a yawn. Poor him was worn out. After his first climax, he had already felt that he touched the sky, and now he was in heaven.

After pulling out, he rested his cheek on your shoulder. Part of him wanted to feel you again yet he couldn’t even move an inch. However, it fulfilled him to know that you were going to be right next to him tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and for as long as you allow it.

“Thank you.” He whispers.

“We have to change those thank you into I love you.”

Leon was the sweetest guy. However, those thanks still came from a place of skepticism.

“Sorry…”

He sheepishly said before drifting off to sleep. And, as usual, no nightmare is waiting for him to haunt his dreams.

VI. SERENITY

Attempting to get out of bed on a lazy Saturday morning should be a crime. However, your drowsy state didn’t stop you from reaching the now empty space next to you. The bed still provided you with the scent of the person you loved the most yet he wasn’t there.

With a groan, you decide to get up from the bed. Your feet meet the cold tiles before you curse from the sudden pain you feel as you step on the remote. You have told Leon countless times that he shouldn’t sleep when he’s watching TV, yet the only response you get is “I’m just resting my eyes.” Therefore, that causes Leon to fall asleep with the remote on his chest which obviously falls throughout the night.

After a while of inhaling and exhaling deeply from the pain, you make your way out of the room. The scenario that greets you is the same as other days just that Leon was missing in the picture.

Your steps are slow as sleep is still running in your system, a yawn escapes you while you walk towards the kitchen counter. A note is waiting for you and you deduce it’s from Leon.

“I just went to run some errands, I’ll come back as soon as possible. Love you so so much.”

His name was written at the bottom of the page next to a happy face that he had drawn. Silly, you thought.

You see that Leon had already prepared you a sandwich before he left. It was cold to the touch, so that means Leon has been gone for a while. He may come any time now.

Life with him was… surely an adventure. He still goes on missions, leaving you to your own devices for days or even weeks. But they no longer haunt his mind like before. He still needs to be treated with utter care after one, though. Bruises and scars are not the only effects his journeys have on him.

When he returns from a mission, the once dull and boring apartment welcomes him yet this time, it is full of colors and memories you have made with him. However, it’s not enough for him to completely drop his facade of a tough agent ready to end someone’s life. As you treat his wound, every tiny sound has him jumping on his seat.

You can’t blame him, it takes a while before he can return to his usual self and be embraced by your warm body that will waste no time to hug him tight. Reminding that he was finally home.

Eventually, after settling down and returning to reality, his personality will shine again. If someone asked you to describe Leon in one word it would be impossible. The man that you chose to spend life with was everything all at once. He was definitely clingy, to begin with. Excuses were his everyday words as he tried to explain why it was completely alright for him to follow you everywhere you went.

At this point, it felt like you had adopted a puppy instead of having a boyfriend. “What’ chu doing?” He would often say as he peeked around the edge of the door frame and watched you from afar If he had a tail it’d be wagging so fast. The tough agent no longer existed in your presence, instead, a man who melted as soon as you hugged him took his place.

Loving, in his language, meant going overboard just for you. If he had to get on his knees and beg for a tiny kiss he’d do it. He’s grown needy to those sweet gestures only you could provide. But he didn’t need to win them. Loving, in your language, meant offering your heart on a platter for him.

God does he love you. You have the man whispering funny names in your ears as you wake up. You unlocked a part of him that he had long forgotten he had, he used to joke when he was nervous — freaking out because he thought he might die on a mission. But now, he invented a plethora of new pet names just to bother you and see you rolling your eyes laughing.

He’s gone through so much, he’s seen so much. Tranquility was the last thing he thought he would be surrounded with. Ever since he was forced to join the military, he made up his mind on the fact that his life would never be the same, Racoon City was his starting point and only his death would stop him from suffering.

Now, as you finally hear the door unlocking you admire how his figure appears. You squint your eyes as you try to pinpoint what’s different in him.

“Hey, you.” Leon walks towards you, closing the gap between you two as he hugs you.

“Hey, you too.” You return the hug, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Missed me?”

“Not much.” You punch his side, not strong enough to make him jump but rather tell him that you were joking. “Now… On what adventures did you go without me?”

“I just paid a visit to Adelaide.”

Adelaide, you haven’t forgotten about the old lady that you treated. However, you didn’t expect Leon to remain loyal to his service. And now that he mentions it, you realize what he has done to himself.

His hair has turned lighter. Blonder.

“Did you bleach your hair?” You can’t help but laugh at the thought, he had poor Adelaide working so early on a Saturday morning. But then again, you remember that both of them are workaholics, even though their jobs couldn’t be any more different.

“No, you’re going blind.”

God, he was so dumb.

Eternity used to sound like a cruel fate before. Stuck in a loop that he couldn’t escape from. But now, he will always look for you even in the tiniest details. He’d look for you in the darkness as two flicks of light trying to reach each other. In the universe, as two particles of stardust waiting to create something even bigger — a world for themselves, and a world to live on.

Because, after all, you reached for him when he had nothing more to offer than his rotten self. You loved him when he couldn’t even love himself.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #resident evil

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comingdownwithme · 1 month ago

Note

Mind giving us some headcanons for the woods brothers? Please and thank you

IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ASK OUGHH LOVE THE WOODS BROTHERS

Anyways, changed a few things about them and their story (a lot for Liu), so uhh I hope you don't mind all that ousgdhdhdh

Jeff the Killer

The Woods- like all families- weren't perfect, but they all tried their best despite the fact. They played their roles, attended church every Sunday when they could, and most importantly, they loved each other, and Jeffery Hodak Woods wouldn't have changed a thing.

Still, fate doesn't bend to what we want, does it?

After drastic changes and loss after crushing loss had driven the eldest Woods son to madness, Jeff wondered if those sermons truly meant anything when he damned himself to hell the moment he crawled out of the new house he was supposed to call home and decided that three men were about to pay for what they did.

Struggled with Intrusive thoughts his whole life, and though his parents meant well, being raised thinking that every awful thought was a product of the devil himself left Jeff to internalise a few things.

Speaking of internalising a few things! Internalised homophobia! Being raised in a religious, conservative household in the early 2000s is gonna do that to you lmao

He's got a Southern accent. After reading one fanfic I literally can't hear Jeff with anything else and it's a curse I must bear alone </3

Even before the incident, he's always had a bit of a gummy smile, his ruined cheeks just made his grin wider which emphasised it more.

Smoker since he was a teen, though his parents never knew that. He vaguely smells of tobacco and iron.

Is a damn good cook and huntsr. He learned the former from his mom alongside Liu, and learned the latter from his dad, but after the incident (and the fact he's basically homeless), he doesn't cook unless he truly has to due to his Pyrophobia. The only fire he can tolerate are from his lighter.

He does still use his hunting skills though, both for his targets and for, y'know, food if he's some place rural. He's kinda gross and feral though, so when desperate times call for desperate measures, well, it's not the first time he's eaten roadkill.

His burn scars are mainly isolated to his left side, though they stretch a little past half of his back.

Paints his nails black when he can. His nails and his knife are the only two things he consistently takes care of lmao

Targets anyone. He knows most people will be missed, and he doesn't want to suffer with his grief alone.

Gave himself that sick Glasgow smile when he was facing an especially bad period of grief, and since he wasn't raised in the most emotionally open household, he wasn't equipped to handle his own feelings. The end product was rough and jagged from the pain, but at least he could still smile all pretty like his mom told him to.

Jeff woke up surrounded by fire, unable to scream amidst the rubble and smoke as it threatened to suffocate him. Sometimes, when he sleeps, he relives that moment, leading him to be terrified of sleeping. He attempts to solve this by cutting off the lids of his eyes, but he pussied out before he could finish the job, leaving himself half-blind when his fucked eye dried up.

I HAVE... SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT JEFF BEING RAISED IN A RELIGIOUS HOUSEHOLD AND GENUINELY BELIEVING HE WAS POSSESSED OR TARGETED BY THE DEVIL AT A YOUNG AGE... IMAGINE, WAKING UP IN UNIMAGINABLE PAIN AS FIRE FLOODS YOUR VISION, AND THINKING THAT "This is it. I really am damned to hell."

IMAGINE CRAWLING OUT OF THAT OUT OF SHEER FORCE OF WILL, AND AS YOU LOOK UPON THE GOLDEN FLAMES THAT SPROUT FROM YOUR HOME, BELIEVING THAT YOU'RE NOT THE SAME PERSON YOU WERE, AND THAT YOU'RE A DEMON PARADING IN DEFORMED, HUMAN FLESH

THAT THE FIRE HAD REVEALED WHO YOU REALLY WERE ALL ALONG, AND THAT THERE'S NOTHING MORE YOU COULD DO BUT SUCCUMB

Liu Woods

Growing up, Liu had always been close to his older brother. He could rely on him, and Jeff, in turn, could always rely on Liu, though the younger of the two always knew that his older brother could never truly be vulnerable with him, nor could he compare to just how much Jeff had done for him growing up.

One day though, a while after they've moved, a fresh start for a new life, Liu takes the chance to protect his older brother just as he had done for him, though he'd come to regret that choice when- while in juvenile detention- Liu finds out that his home was gone, alongside his parents, and at the center of it all was the brother he tried to protect.

With the loss of his parents, Liu went around in different foster homes, though he never truly felt like he was part of their families growing up.

As he grew up, he managed to graduate and become a detective, both to help people amidst a growing amount of murders and missing persons cases, and to find and hunt down Jeff.

He'd rather die than admit it, but he does miss Jeff, and he could feel an awful, sinking feeling within him at the thought of hurting him. In the end though, his morality wins over

When he first met his brother in person, Liu recognised Jeff immediately. Jeff, however, did not. Liu was overpowered, and it was only until he had already carved through Liu's cheek did Jeff realise what he had just done. The doctors say that Liu shouldn't have survived then with how much blood he had lost, but thankfully, someone was there to help. Though when the paramedics came, all they found was Liu, alone and unconscious.

Hates the smell of tobacco.

His southern accent isn't as noticeable as Jeff's, but it's more obvious in the way he says certain words or when he's angry.

Has intrusive thoughts, though he's more capable of dealing with them compared to a certain someone. Doesn't make them easier to deal with though, and that doesn't make the guilt he suffers through any less of a burden, especially as an officer of the law.

#creepypasta #jeff the killer #homicidal liu #asks #jeffery woods #liu woods #headcanons #Randy Keith and Troy were the ones who burned the Woods home btw #they wanted to pull a “harmless” prank to get back at Jeff for cutting ties with them by burning their dad's car #but the fire spread and they ran off in a panic when they realised what they’ve done

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strongheartneteyam · 9 months ago

Text

Realize where you belong.

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!dreamwalker!reader/female!human!reader

cw: sexual content, possessive neteyam, tsaheylu, semi public sex, dominant neteyam, missionary position, doggy position, TRIGGER WARNING for brief mention of non con, dirty talk, sub reader, fluff, yearning, masturbation, tenderness. I might remember more and add later lol

After AGES (sorry for the hiatus, my loves :( I needed it), the so anticipated smut chapter of his story 🥺💓 I've been wanting to let my babies (yes, I love my characters to this point lol) have this special, intimate moment for so long 😭 it just wasn't the right time yet but now here it is. I wrote a part of this chapter in public, in a cafeteria inside a supermarket and damnnnn my pussy was clenching so much lol it was a weird situation lmao fuck I need Neteyam inside of me istg I can't anymore 😭 I hope my dear readers enjoy this <33

PS: in this story, Neteyam was shot on his arm when he was fighting the RDA, not on his chest, hence a scar on his arm is gonna be mentioned.

Slightly proofread. I'll edit it as soon as I can.

Chapter 9

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

I can never look away

I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

Things will never be the same

I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

Now I'm wide awake

And now I see daylight, I only see daylight

(...)

All of you, all of me intertwined

Daylight (Taylor Swift)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Neteyam's lips kissed your neck in a perfect mix of tenderness and passion. Your whimpers filled the air as you felt his big bulge rubbing against your ass and Neteyam took that as a sign that you were enjoying that level of intimacy with him. He was finally able to show you how much he craved you, how just the thought of your wet pussy made him get hard as a rock.

Neteyam was leaking so much precum for you, his loincloth had a stain on it from his thick salty liquid, as he kept rubbing himself against your butt in a languid yet delicious pace, almost driving you insane.

His four fingers hovered over the sensitive skin of your arm.

"Your skin feels so soft, oeyä muntxate… just touching it makes me get even harder for you."

You turned your head back to look at him and his amber eyes stared deep into yours. Your fingers softly touched his beautiful face, tracing his dark blue stripes and his freckles.

Neteyam let out a deep breath and closed his eyes, savoring your touch. You turned yourself around completely, your body towards him now, and your lips reached for Neteyam's mouth. You softly kissed him, feeling how plump and wet his lips were. Neteyam eagerly kissed you back as soon as your soft mouth came in contact with his. His tongue sneaked between your upper and your lower lip carefully but passionately and you opened your mouth wider so he could explore the insides of it. Neteyam laid over you and you felt his cock growing even harder and bigger, now pressed against your soaking wet pussy, still covered by your clothes. You wanted him so bad, he made you so weak that you couldn't help but moan against his lips. Neteyam ended the kiss leaving two pecks in your lips delicately.

“I want you so bad… your body, your scent, your lips on mine…”

Neteyam touched the sleeves of your white cropped top slightly, taking his time, not wanting to startle you or make you feel like he doesn't respect your boundaries, but Eywa knows there was a hungry animal inside of him who only wanted to bury himself deep inside your tight pussy, rough and merciless. His animalistic side wanted to hunt you down and catch you like a prey, mating with his female, taking what's his. But he knew it was too soon to act like that. This was gonna be your first time together and the last thing he wanted was to scare you, to drive you away. He could not live without you again. He needed to have the scent of your skin on him to survive.

His fingers finally reached the hem of your top and as he watched your body language, Neteyam noticed you welcomed his actions, so, he took your top off, your hair getting a little messed up as he passed it over your head. He threw it to the side and couldn't care less about where it had landed because all he could focus on was your breasts. They were much bigger than the breasts of the other na'vi girls, as you were in an Avatar body. That pleased him beyond reason. Neteyam's hands traveled through the delicate blue skin of your tits, caressing it with the most tender touch, his fingers drawing over your bioluminescent freckles. You watched his face, the way he looked dumb with desire and longing, his mouth half open, his breath heavy.

“Oeyä muntxate, how can you be even more beautiful in this body? Your human breasts drive me crazy, you know that, but these… your pink nipples contrasting with your blue skin, these stripes, your little freckles… fuck, my love… I wanna suck on your titties, bury my face on them and never let go.”

You chuckled slighty “Then I think you should. I'm yours, Neteyam.”

“Yeah? You're mine? Say it again. Say you're only mine.” He dared teasingly

“I'm only yours, Neteyam. My body belongs to you.” Neteyam's smile was big and proud

One of his hands cupped your right breast as he took your lips on his, tasting the softest mouth he had ever kissed.

Neteyam kissed the tip of your cat like nose, then left kisses on your mouth, your chin and your throat. His lips rapidly found your nipple and he took it inside his mouth, suckling on it profusely, his hunger taking over him. Your na'vi ears moved downwards, your mouth was half open and your eyes closed, your back arching slighty. Your folds got wetter and wetter as he sucked on your other tit now like he had been starving for that for way too long and it had been killing him.

Neteyam traced your stomach slowly with his fingers, the bare touch of his digits scorching you with delight. He carefully started to unbutton your shorts as he looked into your eyes, as if asking for permission. You nodded and he slid your piece of clothing down your legs. You opened your legs slightly and his big hand cupped your pussy, covered by your soaking wet panties. That made a thought pop up in your mind: did female Avatars have a hymen? Would you feel pain and bleed once he penetrated you? You never bothered to ask about that to your teachers because… well… you never thought you'd be having sex in your Avatar body. You could never imagine that Neteyam would appear to you. Never… that made you hold back a smile but the corners of your lips curled up, in stubbornness.

“Why are you smiling?” Neteyam teased “Do you like when I touch you like this, muntxate?”

“Yes.” Even though that wasn't why you were smiling, that was undeniably true.

Neteyam smiled, proud of himself, and wrapped his tail around your leg, making you feel owned by him and that always turned you on beyond explanation.

He just wanted to pleasure his precious mate already. The way your juices smelled was driving him mad. Neteyam needed to finally have your taste all over his tongue. But before that, he wanted to do something important.

“It's time, tanhì. Tsaheylu.” He was nervous to ask you for something that was utterly normal and natural to his people but could be so very weird to you. In that moment, Neteyam was so aware that you had been raised in a totally different culture. That as much as you were na'vi in your soul and was in your na'vi body now, you were still… human.

But you eagerly consented. He breathed out, relieved and the fearful look left his face, where now there was a soft smile, showing no teeth.

Your fingers trembled softly as you took your long braid in your hand and your tendrils were now free, the delicate, thin extremities dancing in the air.

“No need to be nervous, yawne. You're my mate. We belong to each other. Do you trust me?”

You looked at him with doe eyes “I do. I'm not scared. Just nervous.” You smiled coyly and he kissed your hand tenderly

When you both brought your pinkish tendrils together and they intertwined, you felt a powerful wave piercing through your whole being.

How do you explain that you can see yourself through someone's thoughts? How do you explain that you can feel, not sense, but literally feel how much the person you love loves you back, just like your spirits are one and the same? Your teachers in the laboratory taught you that tsaheylu worked very similarly to how synapses work in the human brain, extremely similar actually. Neteyam was passing to you his emotions through his kuru and so were you, like you both… had the same mind. As weird as it sounds to a human being, you never knew you needed that invincible, raw connection until that moment. It was euphoria running through your veins but also calming too. It almost did not make sense… but it did. It cannot be explained rationally, you can't use your brain to understand it. Only your heart will. His electrical waves invaded your body and your soul like a sword, its blade so sharp, the love so strong, that none of your barriers could keep him away, keep him from becoming one with you. You could only wonder if that was real, if that moment wasn't just a part of a crazy dream.

That's the best you could come up with to try to explain something as ethereal and sacred as tsaheylu. There are no words, at least not in the limited English language that you could try to use that would convey the feeling that it was having Neteyam's tendrils intertwining with yours. It was like they were made to be there, together, connected. Like some force said so in the beginning of time and there was nothing nobody could ever do to prevent it. Just like the cycle of life, it was an unstoppable force, you and him, the love you shared.

You hadn't realized when you had closed your eyes but once you opened them, you saw Neteyam with his eyes still closed and his lips parted, like he was in a trance. You couldn't help but smile. Was he feeling something as strong as you did? After a few seconds, he opened his sparkling golden eyes. Neteyam smiled at you and held onto your waist, kissing you passionately.

He gently pushed you to lay on your back, his hands on your shoulders. Neteyam left a trail of delicate kisses in between your breasts and went down, opening your legs.

“I'm addicted to how you smell. How can you have this power over me, yawne?” His wide eyes were locked on yours while he pronounced those enticing words

Neteyam kissed your navel and licked over your wet panties, tasting your juices. Your breath got caught in your throat, so good it felt. He got rid of the last piece of clothing keeping him from tasting your cunt - that now belonged to him. Neteyam was impatient, it was like he needed to eat you out right now or he would die.

When his mouth finally reached your pussy and he licked your soaking wet folds for the first time and your taste invaded his taste buds, it was like he was gonna explode. His tongue lapped on your cunt over and over, desperately, like an animal, like you had just awakened his rut, even though it wasn't possible. But maybe it was. You had a hold on him that no other girl had ever had. And he knew that there would never be anyone else for him but you. Neteyam ate your pussy like you had the best taste he ever had on his tongue. And you did. He had been yearning to taste you for so long. Just touching himself thinking about you hadn't been enough for some time. He was so, so grateful to Eywa that he was finally there, with you, mating with the girl he loved so much, the girl who had turned him from a man into a burning flame, so strong was the desire he felt for you.

“Yawntu…” Neteyam cried “You taste so good…” he sucked on your clit, making your pussy feel hot and your entrance clench around nothing, aching to be fucked by his cock.

You were now no longer a girl but a moaning mess. There was a boiling pool of pleasure in your lower stomach. Your body contorted under him.

When he was done eating your cunt, Neteyam sat on his ankles, and took his cock in his hand, its impressive girth and length turning you on, making your pussy get wetter, your inner thighs all sticky.

Neteyam started to jerk himself off, his swollen tip pouring precum out insanely while he gazed at your body with lust tainted eyes.

It was such a sight to see, so hot it had your heart beating at the speed of light and you felt your pussy walls clenching around nothing, yet again.

You could not believe he was like that because of you. Were you that pretty? So pretty that you were able to get the attention of such a gorgeous creature? Getting to the answer didn't matter, though. All that mattered to you at that moment was how hot he was and how crazy he was for your body. Neteyam's huge cock made you feral and you knew he was feral over your body too.

"Can I put it in, baby?" Neteyam asked, still stroking his blue cock. You watched him use his four slender fingers to stimulate himself with want in your eyes. The way the veins there were all loaded with blood… Fuck. "Need you so bad…" he cooed, yearning.

"Yeah" You meant to speak but it came off more like a moan

Neteyam gave you a lustful look with his wide feline eyes, the yellow in them luring you in as they shone like gold.

He put his cock on your entrance, making you quiver a little by the slightest contact of his member with your cunt. When he had all his length inside of you, there was the animalistic Neteyam again. The one you met that night outside your bedroom window, the one who could barely keep himself from forcing his body on you.

"You're mine!" Neteyam said and then groaned "All mine! Ahhh, fuck, yawne!" He kept slamming his hips vigorously against yours

No words could possibly come out of your mouth at that time. All your brain would let you do was moan loudly.

"Eywa… you're clenching so much around my cock" He chuckled "Do you like being fucked by me as much as I like fucking you?" He said, while thrusting deep into you.

"Mmmgh…" You pathetically mewled

"Yes, you do, yawnetu" Neteyam let out a sexy, almost cocky smirk. He loved knowing he could melt you like that, give you so much pleasure you couldn't even speak.

Neteyam kept fucking you hard, slamming his hips against yours, his tip reaching deep inside your body, poking at your womb, bruising your insides but bringing you to a state of raw pleasure that you never thought your body was capable of feeling.

He felt divine as he buried himself inside your sensitive flesh, his moans just would not stop filling your ears, turning you on beyond reason, driving you closer and closer to the edge of Paradise.

“Get on all fours for me, oeyä muntxate”

You obeyed Neteyam's command without thinking twice.

In the blink of an eye, he was inside of you again, reaching deeper this time, making you moan in an addictive mix of pain and delight as his swollen tip reached your womb with every thrust.

"This pretty, tight pussy is all mine now. This body…" He let out an animalistic growl "so fucking hot, all for me. All mine. Yawne…" he moaned loud for you before he pulled out and pumped his cock as his warm, sticky seed fell all over your ass and reached the beginning of your lower back. That sight was by far the most beautiful thing Neteyam had ever seen. He had marked you as his. Completely. His cum covering your skin as a sign to show who you belonged to.

You laid at the wooden floor, flushed and panting a little as Neteyam smirked and kissed your back. He still breathed heavy as he ran his hand over your back, in a sensual caress. Neteyam was beyond proud of what he had done to his precious mate. Now you were utterly, undoubtedly and completely his.

༊⁀➷

When you two were holding each other, cuddling after having made love, you noticed a big scar on Neteyam's arm. How did you not notice it before? It was big and ragged. You felt bad for not noticing it before. But then you realized he wasn't wearing the brown beaded bracelet he used to always wear that day. That must be why. He hid his scar under his bracelet.

“I never noticed before that you had a scar on your arm”

He chuckled, trying to cover up his embarrassment. “Yes, I have one.”

“How did you get it?”

He breathed deeply and then let the air out, his eyes now clouded, like some terrible memory was hunting him. “Fighting against the demons. The Sky People.”

“I see…”

"It's kinda ugly, I know." He joked but you could see right through his smile and the obvious way he was now covering it with his hand. Neteyam was insecure about the way his skin looked with the scar on it.

You kissed the scar on his arm tenderly, your lips gentle as they did so.

"It's not ugly. I like it." You told Neteyam as your eyes were fixed on his scar "It only reminds me that you've been through something terrible but survived it, that you're strong." You looked up into his eyes again and Neteyam smiled at you tenderly yet coyly, showing no teeth.

“The bullet hit my artery. I bled so much when I got shot that my family thought I was gonna die. But I believe the Great Mother found a way to protect me because there was a female warrior with us and she was also a healer. She was able to stop the bleeding until they could get me to my grandmother, the Tsahìk. You know what a Tsahìk is, right?” He smiled softly, petting your face, his thumb gentle as the touch of a flower

“I do. They're the spiritual leaders and healers of the clans, right?”

“That's right, yawntu.” Neteyam was happy you knew a lot about his culture. The culture you should have been born in. You were his na'vi mate, in your soul you were na'vi. He knew it, he could feel it. Seeing you in your na'vi body (or in your Dreamwalking body, like his mother and grandmother used to say) felt so right. Like things finally were how they should be. You were just temporarily spending more time in the wrong body, the human one. But that would change soon.

Your heart hurt profusely, you wondered how your life would be if you hadn't met him, if he had died. It's weird to think this, but you felt like it would hurt you to lose him like that, even if you wouldn't be actually losing him if you would never have met him, right?

Even so… thinking about it made you almost despair. How can you love someone so much like that? That the mere thought of having never met him shatters you? And beyond that, you hated that he had got shot. By humans. Your kind. That made you feel dirty, ashamed to share DNA with such a despicable race, one capable of hurting and almost killing a young man who was just trying to protect his family, his people, his home.

You fought back tears and of course he noticed. Neteyam noticed everything about you. Nothing would go past his golden eyes.

“Hey, don't cry.” He said

“I hate that it happened to you.” He gave you a comforting smile

“I survived. It's okay.” All you could do was hug him tight, still stuck in the thought of having lost the opportunity of meeting the best person you ever laid eyes upon

He hugged you back, his arms making you feel at home. They were your home now. You were far too sacred in Neteyam's eyes, like a pure, delicate creature he must protect at any cost. And he would. Neteyam would live and die for you.

He was way more than you had ever dreamed of in a partner. He showed you a kind of love you never even thought could exist, so pure and strong and raw and powerful. You wanted it to engulf you. You wanted to dive deep into Neteyam's ocean and never come back for air again. You wanted to learn how to breathe under his waters, just so you could never leave the state of mind that being loved by him, feeling that love so strongly, all over you, burning you so good, put you in. It was a sweet ecstasy.

After a while, Neteyam walked you back to your small room in the laboratory and when you were safe, inside the building, he headed back to his family's hut. Your taste and the way you felt were still all over him, though. Your beautiful face was haunting his thoughts. A part of him was left with you.

༊⁀➷

"Can I go forward when my heart is here? Turn back, dull earth, and find thy center out.”

Romeo Montague - Romeo and Juliet (William Shakespeare)

༊⁀➷

This is the last chapter of the Part 1 of this story :) see you guys in Part 2, hopefully! Thank you all for reading it and being in this journey with our beloved characters until now 💕

•

Taglist:

@onskepa

@tumblingdevils

@a-blog-name-2003

@xylobee

@nerdybouquetofkittens-blog

@henhouse-horrors

@lala-1516

@crazy4books1

@explosiongamora

@lik0

@your-girl-mj

@sereisstuff

@yeosxxx

@iman-lu

@manumanulau

@im-in-a-pansexual-panik

@hana-yuri

@thehoneymushroomhealer

@melllinaa

@siriuslysmoking

@ellabellabus07

@badbishsblog

@c-h-i-l

@celi-xxmoon

@luvv4j4ybe11

@bakugouswaif

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im-ovulating · 5 months ago

Note

Ok so since you volunteered...EEEEE🤭🤭

I've had this thought on my mind for a while...how do you think a relationship with Alec,Paul, and Embry (separately please) would be/how would they react if they were in a relationship with reader who is slightly more traditional. She likes to cook and clean for them, and she likes to make their plate and hand it to them (paul and embry only for obvious reasons, lol).

Reader is more traditional in this way that she enjoys it but still modern and a feminist because she doesn't do it because "she's a woman and that's her job" or "it's her place" bullshit sje does it because it's a sinple way she shows affection and that she loves them. If you can add in them defending reader and getting all protective when someone says something like "you're lucky man... to have a woman who knows her place, " and they're just like "stfu she doesn't do this because of your misogynistic ideas she does it because that's how she shows love and loyalty"

(A/n: Before anyone asks- yes, yes I do think that Alec's is funny. I laughed writing it so that's all that matters lmao)

(I feel like I got a little too cookie cutter with Paul and Embry, but what can you do when you're already on your 3rd rewrite?)

Word Count: 908

Summary- Request above^^

Warnings: Misogyny (not from the boys), Decapitation in Alec's lol

Age Rating: None

Alec, Paul, Embry (separate) x Fem! Reader: Tradition

------------------------------

Alec:

"Say it again." Alec's fangs are bared inches from the lower guard's face as he pins him to the wall.

He had been making his way through the halls towards your shared quarters when he heard one of the new guards commenting about you. Normally he would have left it - it's a new guard, he's going to be killed in a few weeks' time anyway after all (Caius simply doesn't have the patience to deal with newborns), but this time was different.

It was different because it wasn't the usual comments about you being human; it wasn't the comments on what it must be like to be mated to one of the elite guards. No.

It was a comment about your more... traditional habits. The way you let him take control on most things, the way you tend to pick up around the castle despite there being lower vampires in the coven that tend to that.

What had made the normally calmer of the twins snap were the words, "At least the human knows her place is serving men."

"SAY IT!" He snarls, voice echoing off the stone walls of the castle.

"I-" The newborn starts to stammer. Before he can even start his second word, Alec's grip on his neck tightens, forcing a web of cracks to shoot up the guard's neck and splinter his face.

It only when his fingers dig in enough to finally snap the guard's head clean off that he steps back, eyes nearly black and wild and his chest heaving with unnecessary breaths. As a final disrespect, he boots the decapitated head down the hall, relishing in the sickening crack when it hits the far wall.

You round the corner just in time to see Alec standing over the headless body, his eyes slowly fading from pitch black to their usual crimson.

"Are... are you alright?" you ask hesitantly, approaching him carefully.

Alec nods, pulling you close. "I couldn't let him speak about you that way," he murmurs into your hair.

"What way?"

He just shakes his head, breathing in your scent to calm himself.

Paul:

At the first pack bonfire you've been invited to, you're busy helping Emily serve food to everyone when you overhear an older member of the tribe talking to Paul. "You're a lucky man," he says, nodding in your direction. "Having a woman who knows her place. It's rare these days..."

Paul's reaction is immediate. His body tenses, eyes flashing with anger. "Watch it," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "Y/n doesn't do shit to fit a dumbass outdated role."

The man backs away, surprised by Paul's intensity. You feel a warmth spread through your cheeks, touched by Paul's defense of you.

Later that night, as you're cleaning up together, Paul wraps his arms around you from behind. "I'm sorry about earlier," he murmurs into your hair.

You turn in his embrace, meeting his eyes. "Don't be. I loved how you stood up for me."

"I just hate when people assume things about you," Paul says, his brow furrowed. "You're the most kickass woman I know. You take care of me because you want to, not because you have to."

You reach up, smoothing the wrinkles between his scrunched eyebrows. "And because you don't do it yourself," you jab, lightly.

A small snort leaves him and he leans down to kiss you gently. "I love you, baby."

"Love you too."

Embry:

The calm and peace of Emily's house is quickly broken by the whooping and excited shouting of the pack as they come clamoring in. When they catch the scent of all the food you and Emily have been making, they rush into the kitchen, crowding around the table.

You smile, watching as the boys' eyes light up at the sight of the feast. As always, you take pleasure in preparing a plate for him, carefully piling his plate full. When you hand Embry the plate, his fingers brush yours, and he gives you that warm, appreciative smile that never fails to make your heart skip.

"You don't have to do that," he murmurs, but his appreciative smile tells you he loves it.

"I know," you reply, handing him the plate. "But I want to."

"Thanks, babe," he says softly, just for you to hear.

As you both sit down, one of the newer, younger pack members makes a comment. "Man, Embry, you're lucky to have a girl who knows her place."

The temperature in the room seems to drop. Embry's eyes flash dangerously, and he's on his feet in an instant. "What did you just say?" he growls.

You place a calming hand on his arm. "Embry, it's okay."

"No, it's not. Listen to me and listen good," he addresses the newcomer, his voice low and intense. "She doesn't do this because of some outdated, misogynistic idea of a woman's 'place'. She does it because that's how she chooses to show love and care. It has nothing to do with obligation and everything to do with her heart. So keep your ignorant comments to yourself."

The teen manages to stammer out an apology and as the tension slowly dissipates, Embry sits back down, his hand finding yours under the table. You squeeze it gently, a silent thank you for his defense. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the pack and Embry's unwavering support, you're reminded once again why you fell in love with him.

#alec volturi x reader #paul lahote x reader #embry call x reader #alec volturi #paul lahote #embry call #mutuals #pawspurpaw

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redcherrykook · 5 months ago

Text

── ˙✧°📷 TORN PICTURES AND FROZEN LENSES 5

────୨ৎ────

College Photography Teacher!Jungkook x Student!Reader

27 year old, stupidly handsome asshole teacher Mr. Jeon has absolutely no human decency, he believes your victim complex is what keeps you from ever achieving anything, letting people use you as a bridge. When something unexpected happens, the ice starts to melt as a foreign word called "empathy" enters his egocentric lense. Maybe he will finally manage to teach you a lesson now, since you keep failing his class.

(Mini series)- Episode five!

Song recommendation: white Mustang- Lana del rey

Content: Cold, mean, distant, unprofessional Jungkook, hurt, stubborn reader, enemies to lovers, lowkey dramatic, accident happens, mutually beneficial relationship (emotionally), Jk learns a lot from her, Jk is mean but has a soft spot for reader (eventually), 6 year age gap, Reader is from a struggling background, Jk kind of rescues her, happy ending, angst at first, fluff, smut, comedy/crack, bickering, college setting, brief hospital setting

Warnings: swearing, name-calling,mentions of an accident involving a biker, mentions of hospital, mentions of injuries, really mean Jungkook, i promise he gets sweet, mentions of trauma and abuse (non detailed), mental health struggles (semi detailed), arguments

Sexual content: (light) praise kink, (light) size kink (lmao next episode bout to go crazy with that one), oral; fem. receiving, chest play, making out

Taglist: @bts-iris @kaeysv @khadeeeeej @rockstryoon

────୨ৎ────

Another day, another night spent on the couch of Jungkook, watching some sort of show with him, munching on dinner he cooked.

He got used to cooking for two.

Its been a week,

A week that turned into a week and a half.

Still no calls, no places, no friends to crash at.

Not even Taehyung, his fraternity house is much worse than just staying with Jungkook.

Not like it bothered you, Jungkook is comfortable, he has a cozy apartment with enough space for two people.

Growing borderline nice from day to day.

His little gestures like buying two of the icetea he drinks, like changing the sheets if you had class the days he hadn't, cooking jjajangmyeon without onions because you hate them.

It was easy to get used to his routine, to bicker with him daily, to sit next to him when he works on his lesson preperation, while you study for your classes.

Sleeping in his shirt, doing your laundry in his bathroom, and accidentally stumbling across his calvin klein's.

It felt intimate at times, like living together was more than just that.

Tonight is different.

Tonight would be your very first party.

After a whole week of persuasion, Taehyung talking your ear off about how fun it was, how many people you could meet, how you could dance your heart away.

You decided, fuck it. One party.

"To be clear, I'm NOT drinking and i swear if you touch me, Taehyung, I will actually strangle you" loud and clear, your boundaries set while you're on call with him. Taehyung called you at 10pm as you were peacefully watching "Running man" with Jungkook, at first you shut off the call.

Until another followed by another call coming through.

"Just come on! once! One single time" he begged, Jungkook's jaw clenching at the voice from the other end of the phone.

He simply can not stand Taehyung, the way he devours you with his eyes, the way he talked you into doing things you don´t normally want to do,

like parties.

In desperate need of social contacts and having some serious fun, a party doesn't sound too bad anymore, Tae would keep his hands off, now that you told him to.

"You're seriously going?" Jungkook asks once you end the call, his eyes stern and burning through you, judging you almost.

"Yeah. You can enjoy a night to yourself again, I won't get back late, I promise" you smile at him, already thinking of what to wear from your very limited selection of clothes.

He scoffs, pressing his lips together.

"What? Got something against it?" your head tilts, a playful smirk on your lips.

His eyes move away from yours and back to the flashy TV screen.

"Just not looking forward to having to pick you up wasted, possibly having to push off some jerk to even get to you" his tongue presses the inside of his cheek, not making eye contact with you. A strong hand is rubbing his thighs that are spread on his couch, while the other one moves through his hair, lifting his arm enough to see his well defined triceps.

A part of you hopes that he was jealous, that he hated the thought of you making out with some college jerk, just like you hated the thought of making out with anyone that wasn't him.

There was nothing left to confront, nothing to deny.

You have a crush on Jungkook, on your photography teacher that you live with.

Maybe it was the intimacy of living with him, but the racing heartbeat in your chest, the pertruding smile on your face whenever he smiled too, even if slight, even if to make fun of you,

The throbbing between your thighs when he speaks in his sultry, low voice. The way his hair is messy most of the time, how his muscles flex when he's working, his groans of frustration, making you wonder just how he could sound if he groaned more. Your thoughts when he drives with his skillful fingers, the way he licks his lip piercing when he's focused. Having to surpress the thoughts of what happened, almost happened, when you were both drunken by the burning alcohol.

All of it is impossible to ignore, to talk yourself into believing it´s nothing.

Every inch of him, of his habits, it made you flaunt for him. Wishing that instead of his shirt, it was him, sleeping next to you peacefully.

Looking at him ever so often, hoping to catch him looking back.

Even taking longer in the shower when your wandering thoughts get accompanied by your wandering hands.

It is wrong, it is so wrong because he's your teacher, because the goodness behind his hard exterior helped you through your own mess in life.

And yet, you find yourself going out to party away the thought of him, only to return back to him the same night.

"Don't worry kook, I'm not drinking. You won't have to pick me up, just enjoy your night alone" you make your way into the guest bedroom to change.

"Am not worried, you're old enough" he grumbles as you walk away.

Of course, he wasn't worried.

Until he's stuck in his living room, pacing around.

He glances at the clock, 2:15 am, still no text, still no doorbell.

Originally, Jungkook wasn't going to do anything special, just watch Tv and cook something nice for a midnight snack.

You had left the house at half past ten, in a pair of black low waisted cargos and a tight fitting crop tee. Black as well, matching your shoes too.

Simple, comfortable, not too revealing.

Not that he would have cared if someone saw you in a revealing outfit,

That's what he likes to believe. In reality, he would have probably come with you if you did, glaring at every guy who dared to look.

The thought of you not answering his text because of being drunk somewhere or being in bed with a guy you had just met made him sick.

"I'm not letting you walk back at this hour. Call me when you need me to pick you up. And don't start arguing over this"

Sent at 11:39, over two hours ago.

Left on delivered.

He sits back down, sighing and deciding to call over his best friend, turn this into a boys night.

You are out partying, probably having fun with other people, why shouldn´t he?

Dialing the familiar number, it rings briefly before a voice deep answers the phone.

"JK! what's up bro?" Mingyu greets

"I'm good. My student left so i thought i'd ask you to come over? Haven't hung out in a while" Jungkook humms while checking the pantry for any snacks.

"Your little girlfriend left? Miss her so much you gotta make your best friend keep you company?" Mingyu laughs loudly from the other side of the phone.

Naturally, being Jungkook's best friend, he knew about the night that you almost kissed. Ever since then, he's been teasing him about it. Pissing him off by insisting on calling you his "little girlfriend".

"Fuck off gyu, could´ve just said no asshole" he scoffs, ready to hang up the phone.

"Don't get so butthurt Jk, she's getting you soft already. I'll be there in 20. Wanna go to a bar?"

He ignores the other comment,

"Nah, I'll go pick her up later. Stop by to get some snacks" he replies casually.

"Alright. Where did she go by the way?" Mingyu just noticed that Jungkook hasn't mentioned why you weren't at his apartment tonight.

His scoff was enough response that could be heard on the other end of the call,

"A fucking frat party"

Mingyu chuckles, thinking up a cheeky reply, but he was too slow.

Jungkook hangs up the phone, waiting patiently for a ring on his doorbell, not sure if he was still waiting for you or Mingyu.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"You'e insane Tae" you shout through the blaring music, barely able to hear the sound of your own words against people screaming and a bass stronger than any drug that was being done around you.

There were many of those, openly at that.

"Is that good?" He shouts back, grinning.

The party is as expected of a frat house party, about sixty college students running around the large apartment, a pool, many couches filled with girls and all of that jock stuff.

Bottles flying around in the kitchen which you found yourself standing in right now, all types of alcohol and cocktail mixes in bowls, what ever is them no one really knows.

Clothes seem basically optional here, most guys are running around shirtless, most girls running to the pool that´s a few feet from the huge glass sliding door around the corner, wearing either underwear or nothing at all.

Taehyung thankfully being clothed.

He did, as usual, have a stupid thought. Thinking it was a great idea trying to outdrink his friend that you had just met,

And already hate.

Jackson, a tall football player who's shoulders are as huge as his ego. He, like the rest of the guys, is shirtless, covered in hickies that wrap all the way around his neck.

Apart from the fact that he's made out with four different girls that all called him some variation of the word 'baby',

he has also been eye fucking you since you first saw him

To which Taehyung is oblivious to, or has been ignoring.

Still, he promised you not to leave your side throughout the entire night, as well as making sure you don't drink, like you had said you wouldn't.

"What? Think I can't win?" He says again when noticing you silently judging him.

You roll your eyes, hands throwing upward to express just how ridiculous he's being "Not about winning, it's a stupid idea. I'm not gonna pick your ass up the floor"

Taehyung laughs in return, throwing back his first shot, to which Jackson follows

"You won't have to"

Jackson smirks, "nine more to go Tae"

"Easy buddy, gonna kick your ass" his voice sounding cocky, already on his way to pour the next shot of vodka.

"Sure you don't want a shot miss goody two shoes?" Jacksons eyes wander to your cleavage,

Eyes are up here, you think.

"Sounding like a broken record at this point. No drinks" you scoff at him, grossed out by his shameless behavior.

In order to distract yourself from the situation, your eyes wander around the apartment, looking for anything interesting.

People making out left and right, no matter if "Va Va Voom" or "Fe!n" played, no one cared who was looking, what lyric was blaring.

It made you cringe inside when you spotted a guy grinding against a girl you knew from Piano lessons, right next to two guys taking molly.

Never going to a frat party again, you think.

Upon first arrival, it was really fun. Tae was dancing his heart out with you, making small talk with some people here and there. You could engage with them as well. Soon enough, he started drinking, making himself tipsy within a couple shots and a beer.

By then you realized you would end up having to look after him at the end of the night, not the other way around.

While you came to make friends, it was practically impossible. Sure, amaybe small talk. Sadly, it always led to the same outcome:

Every girl coming up tried to get it in with Tae and glared at you for being with him or was too drunk.

Meanwhile every guy either tried to get you to drink, tried to touch you, to which Taehyung did push them off immediately, or was also well, way too drunk.

So much for making friends, i guess.

Noticing you have been zoning out for a while, your eyes glance back to the guys in front of you, leaning against the counter.

Wondering how many shots it has been since you last looked.

Both set the small, empty shot glasses on top of the surface.

"Six. Four left to go Tae" Jackson looks relaxed, flushed out a bit but definitely stable, definitely not tipsy yet.

Taehyung on the other hand was slurring his words, a drunkenly hazed smile spread flat across his flushed pink face.

" 'course man. Bring it on"

Shaking your head, you ponder if it was even worth staying still.

Time is truly a weird thing because just when the thought was finished, the words "I´m leaving" at the tip of your tongue,

The guys have already taken another shot, the 7th one back to back.

Tae opens his mouth to speak, presumably about to brag,

" s'easy Jacks-"

but, he can't finish his sentence due to gagging and quickly covering his mouth with his hand.

Of course.

You wince at the sight, Tae stumbles back fast, running and making his way to the bathroom on unstable footing.

That's to not leaving my side tonight, i guess.

A few minutes with Jackson would be fine, you suppose. Tae would be back soon enough.

"Come on princess, take a shot too. Loosen up a bit"

His steps approach you as he talks, his voice sounding like a little devil, waiting to convince you of his foolish plans.

You laugh a small, annoyed laugh,

One hand running through your hair as you talk,

"How many times have i told you I'm not drinking?" unamused, as you look him up and down

But he steps one foot closer, finger grazing your arm maliciously, bringing shivers to your skin at an instant.

"Come on, you need it. Let me give it to you princess, now that Taehyung is gone"

Instinctively tug your arm back, ready to scream in disgust.

But his grip only tightens, a whole palm wrapped around your wirst now, trapping you in his hold as he squeezes.

Angry and scared all at once, you shout at him, the sound coming from the bottom of your throat.

"Fuck off, i told you im not interested"

The pop music playing betrays you, drowning out your screams, reducing it to a hopless yelp.

Filled with rage and mentally cursing at Taehyung for being careless, your eyes flicker to the way which he had left, only to find it filled with everyone but him.

Jacksons arm swiftly moves to grab your hip as he steps closer, his other hand making its way to your waist. He leans down, breath close enough to make every single hair stand up on your neck.

"Fine, if you wanna act so stuck up, hope you know how to swim bitch. Might pull out the stck from your ass"

Before you could process what words had left his mouth, you were lifted up over his shoulders as he ran out the glass door.

no no no no no

A second later you are submerged in the cold water of the pool, splashing loudly,

Not failing to catch everyone´s attention.

The reality of what you had dreaded surrounding you as your mind runs miles.

Muffled you can make out people shouting, the water drowning out the sounds ever so slightly, dimming your lights.

Shutting out any other thoughts.

Fuck.

Helplessly, your arms move, trying to fight your way back up.

Gasping for a breath of air once your face had finally poked out from the greedy water below you,

A laughter breaks,

And another one,

Soon enough it felt like the whole campus was laughing at you, calling you pathetic.

When you manage to climb your way up to the surface completely, holding on to the rim for dear life, you hadn´t yet fully grasped what was going on,.

Everyone else on the other hand had, phones recording your smudged, drenched face and hair, clothes clinging to every nook of your figure, working hard to drag you back down by the heavy weight.

Weakly you pull yourself out of the pool, the sound of laughter still humiliating you, along with Jackson proudly walking off inside the party again.

Probably searching for his next victim.

Absolutely petrified and fucking freezing, you run back to the kitchen were you had left your bag minutes ago. Ready to find Taehyung and get the hell out of this mess.

Minutes before you were thrown in a pool on your first and certainly last frat party, being caught on camera on top of everything.

While pushing through people, you do happen to spot Taehyung,

on the couch,

making out shirtless with a girl that, not surprisingly, Jackson had made out with tonight as well.

That must have been your very last straw, he had not even gone looking for you, not even thinking of why you might be gone.

The dam holding back tears of embarrassment and frustration breaking, evrey single tear you had in you beginning to flow down your face, merging with the chlorinated water that´s already coated along your entirety.

Grabbing your purse and running out, you call the only person you knew to call.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"FUCK YOU GYUUUU IM WINNING" the XBox Controller tightly clutched in his hand, hunched forward to stare at the screen that lights up his dark bedroom, Jungkook's voice rings through his apartment.

Fifa is not for the weak if you play with Jungkook.

"JEON JUNGKOOK YOU FUCKER" Mingyu screams back, slamming the controller down on the teachers bed.

He lost again, 5th time in a row. There is truly nothing that Jungkook can´t do, it seems.

"Mad huh? Mad?" he laughs, punching into his best friends arm jokingly, a wide and proud smile provoking every one of Mingyu´s nerves at once.

The moment is caught off by his phone ringing, interrupting Mingyu in the middle of trying to deck Jungkook straight in the stomach.

He picks it up, reading your name on his bright screen.

Mingyu, as curious as he is, listens for any words he could make out, planing to use it for teasing Jungkook later on.

Only to be met with loud cries and hics,

"Jungkook please come get me, something horrible happend i wanna go home please pick me up, please come get me, ah fuck" you ramble through sobs, not being able to think straight.

Jungkook's eyes soften at the noise, his eyebrows meeting together as worry washes through his body.

He looks at mingyu who seems equally as worried.

"Hey hey hey, it's okay. Just send me your location, it's okay, i'll drive fast" while he says this, his body shoots up, tucking his phone between his shoulder and face to put on a jacket and gather his keys in the meantime.

Mingyu stands up with him, rushing to put on his own shoes and jacket.

"Thank you, thank you" you mumble again, trying to tap your phone through blurry vision, barely managing to hold it together any second more.

The sounds from the other end stop, his phone slipping back in his pocket.

"Fuck gyu i might end up in jail today if someone fucking touched her" he groans, jutting down the stairs with his best friend following.

"I'll bail you out. Want me to tag along? Might need some help" he asks, wondering what could have possibly made you this upset.

So does Jungkook, thinking of the worst possible situations, a pang of guilt running through him.

Should have come with her, he thinks.

Jungkook shakes his head, "No no, thank you tough. I don't want her to feel unsafe, she might not wanna see anyone right now" his thoughts continue running ballistic, from going to hold you and reassure you that it is okay, to strangling who ever made you sob, made you sound so scared.

Mingyu smiles, "Take good care of her. You care about her a lot, that's good" he pats his back, before making his way down to his own car while Jungkook unlocks his.

Sitting down and scrambling to turn the engine on, he drives as fast as he can through the thankfully empty streets, keeping an eye on your live location in anxiety that it would move.

When he finally spots you, crying messily, squatted down next to a random building, his car pulls over.

Having to fight back the urge to cradle you, wipe all your tears.

Sure, he had seen you upset before, seen you hurt after something and usually, he'd be annoyed,

Having to muster up some empathy.

Not this time, not when you were falling apart in the cold, in the middle of the road.

There was nothing put empathy in his system.

Jungkook runs out of the car, crouching down in front of you, his eyes scanning your figure.

He notices your entire body shaking, clothes clinging to you, soaking wet. Once his eyes move up your face, he sees your wet hair sticking to your face with eyeliner running down to your jaw.

Eyes red and lips trembling.

"Y/n what.. what happened" he reaches forward to set a hand on your arm, his thumb stroking your cold skin, hoping to provide any warmth.

Every thought of beating up the person who had brought you to this state leaving him,

All he cares about when seeing you so fragile is wanting to make you feel okay.

Your voice comes out broken, wiping your tears with unstable hands. Even in the dark of the night, you could make up the worried expression on his face.

You felt ashamed, embarrassed to have to call him, to make him see you like this.

The look on his face earsed every trace of feeling pathetic before his eyes,

Knowing you were safe now.

He had never felt so angry and devastated combined, desperately he wants to stop your tears. Longing for anything that would return you to your usual self.

"home please i, i will tell y-you later"

Jungkook nods, standing up as he signals you to stand up as well.

Holding on to the wall behind you, you get up, only to stumble forward. The cold on your wet skin is too much, the wind pushing you back to the ground,

contributing to your already triggered state of mind.

It is all too much.

His strong arms catch you from falling to the floor, wrapping around your own shivering ones.

"It's okay. Can i carry you inside? Don't want you to fall" his eyes scan for any reaction, any indication of you being even slightly uncomfortable.

But you trust Jungkook, you needed him right now.

So you nod, looking back at him with a noticeable look of appreciation.

Gently, one of his hands move to wrap around your shoulders as he crouches down slightly. His other arm wraps around your thighs, delicately swinging you in his arms bridal style.

The water is dripping on to his own clothes, but he doesn´t even feel it at all, he doesn´t notice how your tears trickle down to his shirt when you try to hold up your head.

How your hair was whipping against his chest with every step.

The way he touches you is sweet enough to erase the marks of disgust left on your skin by Jackson's filthy hands.

Slowly he walks to the car, ducking his head and back to open the back door without having to set you down.

The crying has stopped out of pure exhaustion, although the comforting smell of Jungkook's clothes did contribute a fair amount.

He has begun to feel like home.

His arms reach forward to lay you down in the backseats.

"Try to relax okay? Im gonna get us home fast, it's gonna be okay" he mumbles, stroking your arm reassuringly as he let's go of you.

You don't manage to react in any way, even if your heart had swelled up in your chest.

Jungkook jogs to the drivers seat, making his way inside the car again.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The whole ride was completely silent. Not even the usual humming habit of Jungkook sounding in the car.

With your back pressed on the seats in the back your eyes are pried open, red and burning from the make up and salt on your face. You´re thinking of blocking Taehyung and never wasting a word on him ever again.

Almost blaming yourself for giving in and coming to the party in the first place.

The car comes to a hold, the familiar street greeting you when you sit back up to look around.

Jungkooks eyes looking at you from the mirror, releasing a breath he had held for way too long.

Thanking himself internally for keeping your vow of not drinking.

He gets out, walking over to open your door and sticking a hand out to you.

You look up at him with the weakest smile he had ever seen, admiring you for even being able to muster up any smile at all.

grit your teeth sometimes and keep going, he had told you back in the hospital.

Your own hand clasping into his, heart skipping a beat as he pulls you up.

His hand never left your own until he had opened the door to his apartment.

He didn't need to ask this time, knowing you would take his hand.

It made him melt when you did.

"I'm gonna get you clothes okay? Sit down on the couch" the words ring in your ears wonderfully, feeling thankful for his help once again.

As he disappears into the guest bedroom, you run your hands down your face in disbelief.

Being thrown in a pool and called a bitch for rejecting guy was not your bucket list, ever.

Coming back with a hoodie and one of your sweatpants as well as socks, he sets them down next to you.

"Thank you kook" you mumble, looking to the floor in sheer embarrassment.

Jungkook had seen you in situations you didn't even know where possible.

"Don't worry. Im gonna get the hair dryer and make up wipes, just say something when you're done changing" his hands reach down to stroke your shoulders.

At this point you knew,

you knew that Jungkook had fully embraces you into his life.

The way his eyes look at you with no sign of the stern glare he still mingled with until now. The way his voice is rough but reassuring, the way his hands keep touching you in an effort to make up for the hurt on your face.

He locks himself in the bathroom, pulling out make up wipes from your cosmetic bag and gathering up the caple of the dryer while you sit on the couch, slowly changing your clothes into warm and dry ones.

Looking at himself in the mirror startled him.

Not even Jungkook could really recognize himself,

Sharp features of his reflection staring back at him with worry, asking himself if you felt okay on his couch right now.

"Done" you shout out, still choked up from the loud sobbing previously, throat itching slightly from the cold.

The door opens once again, walking to you before plugging in the dryer. He sits down, immediately looking at you.

"Here. Take your time okay?"

"Okay" your fingers reach to the wipes, erasing the traces of the ruined make up that you had put on beautifully hours prior.

A pathetic attempt to trust in people that had let you back down again,

Cruel world.

Turning own the dryer, you start combing through your hair softly, finally filling your freezing head with warmth.

Finally making your entire body as warm as the presence of Jungkook.

Silence returns to the room as the device turns off.

"Can i.. tell you about what happend?" wandering to gaze to his soften features, he nods, smiling briefly.

You take a deep breath before mustering up the courage to tell him about the party.

"Taehyung introduced me to this football player who tried to get me into drinking multiple times. He was shirtless and he was super provocative"

He continues listening as your voice becomes weaker.

"They decided to compete in drinking ten shots but Taehyung was already tipsy. And i- Fuck i told him not to. He didn't listen and at the like, 7th shot? He was gagging, stumbling to the bathroom"

You sigh, nervously recalling the events that felt so surreal now, your eyes finally moving to his. Catching him glint at you with nervousness himself.

"He fucking promised me not to leave me alone and- and and then he did and that asshole he-" by now tears are brimming back at your eyes, unable to let out the words in a straight line.

"He fucking touched me and when i told him to back off he called me a bitch and threw me into the pool. Everybody was laughing fuck, Jungkook people were recording it. It was so fucking- it was so"

You stop, aggressively wiping tears from your face, a scoff pained it's way to the surface,

"So humiliating. Even worse, Taehyung was making out with some chick when i managed to get out the pool" your voice is a bit more stable again, angry at the memory.

Resenment is a stronger emotion than sadness in this moment.

"Motherfucker. Both of them. Motherfuckers" Jungkooks eyes turned dark, glaring at the sound of what you went through.

You laugh a small laugh, "I know"

He inches closer to you,

"I'm gonna get them suspended. What was the friends name?" His expression is serious, determined of making them feel it.

You shake your head slowly,

"No don't- please don't go through all that effort okay? They won't make it long anyways"

He glares at you too now, before catching himself doing so, revoking it and replacing it with a neutral expression.

"Don't let them walk all over you. At least that football guy, im getting his scholarship revoked, what he did was assault. Please let me do this for you"

His voice is stern, he isn't asking.

And you knew he was right.

".. Jackson. Wang, i think"

He huffs, "He can kiss his degree goodbye. I'll find something to make em. Promise you. I might just strangle him myself if I'm being honest" he sighs, his hand rubbing his forehead in an effort to not snap and drive back to party.

A soft giggle can be heard inside the suffocating sphere of the living room.

He looks back up at you,

"What's so funny?" a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips,

You giggle again, focused on the way his lips look when trying to hold back a smile.

"You. Seeing you so worked up. I like it, makes me realize this friendship may not be that one sided after all"

He groans in response, leaning back against the couch and tilting his head to look back into your eyes,

"It took me carrying you to my car to make you understand that i care about you?"

Your heart jumping at the admission,

His eyes widen slightly as he hears himself admit to it, but he tries to conceal it.

Play it off like he isn´t surprised himself.

"Letting you live with me for damn near two weeks wasn't enough, huh?" His elbow digs into your side,

But you can't react, stuck on the fact that his teeth are lightly digging into the side of his lip, biting it softly.

Eyes wandering to his torso that is leaning back on his couch, his lap looking so inviting.

Only now noticing how close he is next to you.

It's his turn to chuckle now,

"Would pay to know what's in that pretty head of yours right now"

Another breath caught in your throat, eyes shooting back up to meet his,

They are ranking over you entirely,

Watching your every feature, studying you as if you were a piece of art in a gallery.

His flirty tone making it hard not to just risk it, crawl into his lap and tell him how you feel about his stupidly handsome face and his annoying way to care for you.

"Shut up, you're saying nonsense" your eyes roll to distract from the fact that you were caught red handed, shyly turning your face away from his form on the couch.

"Answer the question idiot. Did it seriously take this long for you to get it?" his voice is soft, sincerity laced beneath his words.

A long sigh makes it's way out of your mouth as you turn to take the same position that he's in, tilting your head to meet his eyes once more.

The moment is precious in a way, his face is so close you could count the moles on it, but just enough space not to loose any and all control.

"I'm not sure. I mean, i guess i knew you kinda cared, but, i think i mostly tried to gaslight myself into thinking you like me as a person and don't just see me as some sort of charity case" you laugh gently, keeping eye contact with him as you talk.

Although the words you're speaking are truthful, they aren't the full extent.

His heart clenches a bit when he thinks about it,

"Charity case? Fuck no, i mean" he pause, playing with his lip piercing,

"I guess it took me some time to get used to caring about someone else like this, living together and shit but i do like you. I find you annoying and obnoxious at times, and you still suck at photography, but i do like you, you're a good friend" his hand moves through his pretty, dark hair, trying his very best not to look down at your lips.

Knowing he wouldn't be able to hold back.

It was now, just now that he became aware too,

Aware that you weren't just a friend, roomate or a student to him,

That his feelings, his thoughts and urges weren't some sort of strange hormonal reaction.

Still, he hoped that saying it out loud would convince him that you are, indeed just a good friend.

He can´t help but notice how bothered he is by it.

You nod, almost disappointed at the way he ruined his lovely speech with three simple words.

a good friend.

"How nice of you.. thank you tho. No really, i, i appreciate you. You're.. a good friend too, Jungkook" you bite your lip softly, wishing for him to just move away or say something mean to lessen the tension.

He allows himself to look once,

Locking his eyes with your lips, noticing the small blush forming around your face.

It makes you look irresistible, naturally beautiful.

"You know I'm a liar, right? That i say a ton of things I don't actuallly mean?" his eyes are focused on your lips now, his voice almost breathless as he feels himself getting lost at the thought of you.

You scoff, chuckling softly right after,

"Absolutely, it's ridiculous, actually. But you know, i learned not to take every you say too seriously" your arm makes it's way to hit his chest playfully.

He laughs briefly, holding your wrist against his chest.

Eyes locked on your lips, just as he had feared they would.

You could practically feel your heart breaking out of your body,

Moving your palm to lay flat against his chest, you allow yourself to touch an inch of what you've been wanting to feel for so long.

"Well i just lied to you again. You're.. fuck. You're not just a friend"

The air in your lungs leaves you hanging completely, a breathless, thoughtless and emotion driven voice answering him

"I swear if you're playing with me right now I'm gonna-"

There was no time to finish your sentence,

In the blink of an eye, his hands are on your face, cupping it,

His soft, dreamy lips on your own.

There wasn't any time to process either as he pulls back briefly, just enough to whisper against your lips,

"You talk too much, and I'm not good with words"

As soon as the last letter leaves his lips, they are back on yours.

The way Jungkook kisses is as you had imagined, possessive and dominant, he needed to guide you.

Needed you to understand that he likes you,

Way more than just a friend.

Finally registering that he's actually kissing you, that this isn't one of your fanatsies, you kiss him back.

Your own lips moving softly against his, earning a small groan from him.

Melting into his kiss even further, the urge to hear his pretty sounds again overtaking you completely.

The strong hands that held your face in place move now, pulling you closer by your hips.

It makes you hum into the kiss,

Allowing him just enough space to lace his tongue in with yours,

Gently but firmly he keeps kissing you.

As infatuated with him as you are, you follow his every lead, moving in sync and savoring every single second.

Lips developing a mind of their own, Jungkook being the only thought.

By now, he is resting his large hands on your hips, shifting to pull you closer once again, sitting you on his lap,

One knee on either side of his hips, both your hands pressed firmly against his chest.

The way he pulled you to straddle him made you gasp lowly.

He smiles into the kiss, clearly affected by the way this conversation had gone,

By the way you react to his touches.

Naturally, your arms wrap around his neck, allowing your hips to rest on his, he hums in approval, gripping your hips and tightly and securing them in place for him.

Before you can wonder what all of this meant or where it was leading, he pulled back again, this time enough to get a full view of your flustered face.

At first, he doesn't say anything, making space for insecurity to creep up into your brain,

Apparently he can look into those too.

"To be clear. This means something to me. I'm not kissing you just because you looked fucking irresistible, but because i like you, i like you way more than I should. And if you don't, then you better tell me now"

Once again, his pretty face doesn't match his stern words, he's nervous.

You could tell by the way he licks his piercing, nibbling on the small metal ring.

If it was even more possible, your heart swelled with affection for him, desperate to tell him what you had felt for so long.

"I like you too. I like you way too much. Wasn't it obvious? I wanted this for so long"

Without wanting to waste any more time on things you could discuss later on, your head leans back down to kiss him.

He groans much softer this time, his hands ranking up to your sides, feeling them up slowly.

He needs to touch you, feel you, kiss you everywhere.

Just like he had imagined for long now, chopping it up to feeling touch starved.

But the words urge out of his mouth,

"I guess that means you're mine now" he mumbles against your lips in a sultry voice, the heat of the moment becoming far too much.

This wasn't just out of hormonal instincts, both of you could feel it.

A smile latches on to your lips, forcing you to stop kissing him for just a second

"Possessive, i see.. but i want to know much more about you first kook" your reply is sheepish, well aware that him calling you his was enough to turn your underwear see through.

He hums again, placing a hand on your cheek, stroking his thumb against it as his eyes move to your lips.

"I'll tell you everything you want later, let me keep kissing you first" his thumb drags down to your bottom lip, stroking it gently as his pretty brown eyes fixate back on your own ones, looking for resistance.

"Kiss me then" was all it took for him to close the gap once again.

Your arms unwrap around him, moving in anticipation when they reach the hem of his shirt.

You tug on it gently, asking for him to remove it.

He groans once more, "so eager" slips past his lips when he makes enough room to take the shirt off,

Revealing what must be the most beautifully, carefully carved person you have ever laid your eyes on.

His tattoos reach up to his shoulder, you've seen it before but it's even better when you get to touch them, carefully trace the lines with your finger tip.

His chest is firm, a broad set of shoulders that make his small and very well-defined abdomen look even more sinched.

The sight is truly breath taking, your hands caressing, touching everywhere they can.

He likes to think that it doesn't phase him, but the way his body shivers makes it undeniable.

"Done staring, doll?" he asks, the nickname sending a wave of pleasure straight through you as he tilts your face back up to look at his.

"Mhm.. you're just really hot" you can't help but giggle, finally being able to touch and kiss him, it makes you giddy.

Finally being able to utter out all your dirty thoughts, even if it embarrasses you.

He rolls his eyes, sneaking his hands teasingly under your hoodie, caressing the soft and bare skin of your stomach.

A low moan follows his movement, you attempt to kiss him but he smirkes, leaning his head back softly.

This time you whine, having already guessed that he's as much of a tease as he normally is too.

"You sound so desperate. Want me too take this off hm?"

You only muster up a small nod, in no time the hoodie is thrown somewhere, forgotten easily by the way his eyes sparkle when landing on your chest.

Roaming over your chest down to your hips, taking in every inch as his hands reach to grab them.

In one swift motion, you're tucked beneath him on the couch, his shirtless figure hovering over yours, veiny hands resting on your stomach, softly touching his way upwards.

"Just tell me to stop if you don't want anything" he's considered, gentle in the same way that he's demanding.

"Will do, but right now i really need you to continue"

He smiles, leaning down to kiss you again before moving to kiss down to your neck, softly burrying himself in it.

Hearing you moan and gasp was enough to make him lose his mind, make him want to give you absolutely everything you could ever ask for.

"Feels.. nice.." your hands play with his hair, holding the back of his head firmly against your neck.

He bites your neck in response, one of his hands moving to cup your chest in it, squeezing and groping firmly.

He keeps kissing, licking and gently sucking at your skin, trying to learn about every spot that made you moan a little louder.

Once he's satisfied with your neck, a short kiss is placed on your lips.

His head trails down to your chest, kissing from collarbone further south.

"You look even prettier than i imagined" he mutters against your skin, lips in the space between your breasts, kissing and sucking carefully.

"I-Imagined?" you manage to say between soft moans, to shy to let out what you really felt.

Your teeth biting down on your lip so hard it could have made an imprint.

He chuckles against your skin,

"Mhm.. many times doll, driving me insane with these pretty sounds, keep making noises" his voice is deep, underlined with desire.

"f-feels so good.." your whines filling is request instantly, feeling his lips wrapped around your breast as the other one is being gently cupped and squeezed, making you feel blissfully satisfied.

He switches sides after a couple more seconds, your eyes focused on his hand that looks so large compared to you.

However the sight of his bare and definitely well toned, broad back peeking out made you feral, needing to touch him too.

So you do, moving to wrap your arms under his, touching his back carefully as sinfully sweet noises come out of both your lips.

His lips move from your chest to your own, both of his hands groping your chest, moving and brushing over your spots carefully, hitting ever sensitivity.

He lets go of your chest just as he lets go of your lips, his hands making their way down to your waist, wrapping around and securing you in place.

Jungkook´s beautiful dark eyes can't seem to leave your body, licking his lips before planting gentle open mouth kisses down your stomach, nibbling at the skin every so slightly.

"Can i take this off?" his tattooed fingers playing with the hem of your pants, teasing and tugging beneath it with a sly smile on his face.

"Yes please" almost pathetically quiet you answer him, desperate for him to touch you, to make you see stars.

He nods, pulling down your pants to reveal white lacy panties beautifully placed over your core.

Jungkook doesn't like to waste time, so he moves his hands up and down your thighs while kissing your hip,

"So soft" purring against your skin, his lips move to kiss your thighs, hooking one arm gently under one leg, spreading them open. His kisses become more passionate which each one, kissing and nibbling the inside of your thighs,

Dangerously close to where you wanted him to be right now.

Your hand wraps around his soft curls once more, gently tugging, making him groan.

"Doing so well doll, i know you're desperate, so needy. Gonna give it to you yeah? Ask nicely" the way he sounds right now, raspy and gentle, the way he uses the nickname that rolls beautifully off of his tongue, it is enough to make you whimper.

Close to being speechless, you stammer out softly, needing him more than anything.

"Please kook.. touch me.. please eat me out, fuck this is so embarrassing" your hand untangles from his hair, both of them meeting to cover your face.

A small laugh can be heard before he moves his own hands up, prying yours from your face by your wrist.

He scans your face, your slightly parted lips inviting him to a kiss once more.

"Don't hide pretty, sound so good when you're this pathetic and desprate. Gonna give you just what you asked for"

He hooks his arm back under your thigh, the other one holding you by the knee. Letting his eyes wander down to your core for just a moment, he takes in the sight of your soaked underwear, basically transparent.

It made him twitch in his pants,

Knowing that he has just about the same effect on you as you do on him.

He presses a kiss your still covered clit, tongue poking out to lick over it, pressing the fabric to your skin.

It doesn't take long for him to move his tongue down to your entrance, licking slow stripes across and using the tip of his tongue to push the fabric into your slit a little bit.

It fills you with excitement and frustration,

"Please stop teasing me.. please" your whines are much louder now, annoyed that you're so close to finally feeling the relief you need.

Finally knowing how it feels to have him touch you.

He groans softly, quickly pulling the panties down to your ankles before latching on to suck on your clit.

The feeling is euphoric, nothing compares to seeing Jungkook's pretty face burried between your thighs, his lips wrapped around your clit as his tongue gently darts across it.

He moves his tongue down, caressing your thighs with his hands, tasting every drop of arousal spilling out from you.

His body is filled with the need to feel your every reaction, touch where ever he can reach.

The tip of his tongue pushing into your hole ever so slightly, before moving to lick back up to your clit.

Ever since he started you haven't stopped moaning, softly rambling about how good he feels.

"Look so pretty.. fuck it feels so- so good.." your voice trails off into a whimper, the knot in your stomach tightening with each lick, his soft groans only intensifying the pleasure.

Helplessly your hips buck into his face,

he takes it gladly, humming in approval.

"You'll take a finger won't you doll?" he says as his pointer finger is already circling your entrance, ghosting over it.

As a response, your hips buck up again slightly, moving both hands to grab his shoulders, nodding furiously at his question.

"Words. Will you take it?´´ he repeats, his tongue returning back to licking your folds once he finished speaking.

"Yes, yes, yes will take it"

"Good, very good" he pushes his single digit in without any further warning, sinking in until his knuckle stops him, immediately pumping in an out.

"So fucking small doll, only my finger and you´re suffocating it, so greedy" the vibration of his low purring only supporting your approaching orgasm.

For a moment Jungkook allows himself to look at you, face fucked out completely, eyes weakly staring down at him,

Your mouth opened softly as gasps and whines leave your mouth.

It keeps him going to see you enjoy it, his finger speeding up as his licks become more firm.

The pleasure built up fast from that point, feeling like you would snap and come on his tongue and finger at any moment, clenching around it.

He moans softly on your skin when he feels it,

"Close? Are you gonna coat my finger with your cum pretty?"

"Jungkook- fuck yes, close. God, the way you talk is driving me insane" your legs pick up shaking again, fingers digging into his shoulders when your whole body shudders against him.

His voice, his hands, lips, face burried between your thighs, it all creats a beautiful picture, unforgettable.

"Come on doll, give it to me, let me taste it" his lips move to wrap around your clit,

Which is all that you needed to come undone under his touch, shaking and whimpering loudly.

He slowly retracts his mouth, stroking your thighs and gently moving his fingers to let you ride out the high, before removing it completely as you still pant from the pleasure.

Naked and slightly bruised chest moving heavily, clit swollen and throbbing.

He places a small kiss against your hip,

"Did so well, sounded so fucking pretty, taste so sweet"

You look at him wide eyed as he licks his finger clean, clearly enjoying every drop of your release he could get.

His hand reach down to your ankles, pulling your panties back up and kissing your newly covered clit one last time.

"Come here, calm down yeah? You on earth doll?" he chuckles in a cocky and low tone, pulling himself up next to you and placing a kiss on to your forehead.

The absolute aftershock and realization hitting you, immediately blushing the darkest shade of red and hiding against his chest.

"Oh.. my..god. what the fuck just.." mumbling against his chest he strokes your back and hair softly. A small effort to reassure you.

"No don't. Don't say it. I know what happened but.. i mean.. what.." you continue, not knowing how to act know, not knowing what to say.

Asking yourself if that meant you were his now, like he had said before.

"Well, you tell me. I said you're mine, you're the one wanting to know things" he puts one hand under your chin, lifting your face to his and pressing a kiss to your lips.

Although his eyes look neutral, his kiss is filled with care.

You smile against his lips,

"Fuck whatever i said, i can learn while being yours, if the offer still stands"

He scoffs, flicking your forehead once he pulls away from the kiss

"You're an idiot. Of course it does"

It was hard not to giggle when he's being so stupid after giving you the best orgasm of your life.

It's your turn to kiss him now, placing a small peck to his cheek and another one to his jaw.

His lips curve into a softy smile, "Come on, let's go to bed hm?"

Your head tilts at his suggestion, knowing full well that he's fully errect,

You can feel him pressed against you after all.

"But.. what about you?" he strokes your hair before holding your cheek in his palm, a cheeky grin on his lips.

"Don't worry, i don't really care for that right now, besides I don't want to tire out miss virgin Mary hm?" his hand moves down to your chin, squeezing your cheeks between his thumb and remaining fingers.

Instead of reacting, your entire body freezes, looking at him with an expressionless face.

"What? Think i couldn't tell? Come on, you were a mess from kissing, so tight around only a single finger doll. Not that hard to miss" he chuckles, kissing your forehead another time, all the while you wish you could disintegrate into the ground.

Sure, it might have been easy to tell, but did have to keep teasing?

"Oh my god you're unbelievable. Do you.. uh, mind that i didn't say anything?"

His hand moves to grab your hoodie that was surprisingly not far gone, tapping your arms to signal you to lift them up,

"No, i don´t. I get it, i mean, I'm not that experienced either and at my age that is kind of embarrassing to admit as well" he speaks carefully while slipping the hoodie back over you, moving some strands of hair out of your face.

You nod, smiling at his delicate gesture.

"I see, you're sure that you're okay?"

He rolls his eyes,

"Yes, I'm sure. Come on, let's go to bed, I´m tired, i know you´re too" he shifts, picking up his tossed shirt and your pants only to throw them on the couch when he stands up.

You´re still sitting, eyes moving down to the very visible bulge in his pants, straining them in a sexy and arousing way.

He snorts, waving a hand in front of your face before he grabs yours, pulling you up and leading you to his bedroom.

"Kook?" you ask him, a million questions running through your mind at once.

Everything that happened after the intimacy is so normal, almost thoughtlessly routine.

His presence being so comforting and complete to you, you did not even need to ask why you should sleep next to him, or if it was okay to do so.

"Yes?" he answers, pulling the covers on his bed back and stepping closer to hold you by your waist and staring you down,

A look of admiration on his face, his eyes practically screaming the words I love you

"So.. we.. uhm.. this is official now?" was somehow the only condensed version of all the thoughts you could gather together.

He smiles, lifting you briefly to lay you on his bed, climbing in to lay beside you, his hand immediately finding your face again.

"What does it look like? How many times do you need me to confess? Damn, im starting to think doll, that this gets you off" he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to his warm body.

Your feelings for him intensifying in that very second,

"No, but i do get off on that nickname. And the way you're so touchy. Kinda cute" you scrunch your nose up, putting your arms on his body as well.

"Shut up. Sleep well yeah?" he says, tucking your head under his to stop you from seeing the shyness spread across his cheeks, accompanied by the smile visible in his voice.

"Sleep well, kook. but.."

"Oh my god what is it?" he groans, squeezing your body to show off his annoyance.

You giggle softly,

"Thank you. For saving my ass today and uh.. for, you know" the last words leave your mouth in a stuttered manner, too shy to speak out what you are referring to.

He scoffs playfully, "21 and can't say the word orgasm. Whatever, get used to it doll, gonna take care of you from now on"

Knowing it didn't matter how annoyed he was, nothing could take away the fact that you're falling asleep in his arms this very second.

It made both of your hearts melt.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #redcherrykook #jungkook bts #bts fic

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writingforatwistedworld · 1 year ago

Note

oooo ok ok ok

so what bout a platonic deuce, epel, and lilia with a gn reader that kinda talks out loud to themselves when they play?

like they say how much they want to be this character's brother, or how they bet this character would be a good parental figure, etc. or even when another character says/does something they don't like they kinda just, voice their opinion on it?

just their reaction to reader talking out loud/voicing their thoughts lmao srry if this doesn't make sense

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, violence, description of violence, obsessive themes, religion, war (if you squint)

Deuce Spade/Epel Felmier/Lilia Vanrouge-Player voicing their thoughts whilst playing (PLATONIC!)

Deuce is a calm guy, they said. Deuce is a chill guy, they said

Well whoever they are haven't seen him when you are around, behind the screen or not

This guy is just happy that you confide in him enough that you voice your thoughts to him

Don't mention that you are just on venting-you-thoughts mode when you play… Like seriously, don't.

He is always more than happy to listen whenever you are talking.

Could be about how much you like his newest card design but could also be about what you want for dinner. Idk? I would recommend something light like banana muffins with blueberries. It's very tasty. Trust me.

If you could see through the coding he would be like “Oh really.” and “You don't say.” or “What? Really?”

What I am trying to say is that he is probably more engaged in this “conversation than most would be

If some poor NPC “interrupts” (aka not heating what he is hearing and starting to talk) he will show them how fragile the ordinary human nose is. In other words, fist meet face. Nose make crack. NPC is screaming.

But on another note, should you voice wishing to be a family member of his, say for example his sibling, he would be over the moon

He is in lalaland, imagining how he and his younger siblings would enjoy their free time together. Heck, probably taking care of some chicks

Oh, and what if you were his older sibling? Like, wow, you would be such a cool role model! You probably wouldn't be a thug like him so that makes you even… cooler (?) in his eyes

Dude over here is having such a great time imagining being your sibling he is low-key looking like he ascended

But then he starts to imagine the darker sides of life

Like how his younger sibling could be bullied in school whilst he is stuck on this island

Or even worse if you are the older one of you two, you might start dating!

I don't know if it is funny or sad that he is feeling a sensation of loss over a sibling he never had

Like bro, chill. Don't beat up that student that looks similar to the imaginary partner you just made up in your mind. They can't be held accountable for your min-OH NO DON… Didn't he want to stop with this?

Epel is literally frothing at his mouth when he hears your innermost thoughts

Now now, I know this is creepy (like wtf get yourself together man) but I promise he is totally normal (who am I kidding he looks like he has rabies) and is also a totally chill guy (is it obvious that I am lying?)

Religious indoctrination or whatnot

Imagine, you are already isolated in a village filled with religious zealots, always hearing how great that person (you) is

And then they spill everything on their mind to you

Give him a day or two and he will be back to normal… if we ignore that poor student in the corner

Like man, you noted one single time how much you liked this NPCs design and the next thing he knows he is seeing red

It's kinda like seeing your favorite family member favoring that one annoying cousin who is related to you over five corners

Has a notebook and writes everything he deems important down… which is a lot to be fair (but let the guy have his weird hobby, ok?)

But then you mention how you wish you were a family member of his and oh my god I think he is this close to breaking the fourth wall for real this time

This hits home to him

Remember how I told you about his village's eight lines higher than this one? Yeah.

There had been others his age but they were little to none and his village is in the middle of nowhere so…

But we also know how much he loves his grandma so it is a given that he would cherish you as well

Also, his god saying that they would want to be related to him. Ugh. He is honored so much that it is disgusting

But I could see this isolation and certain closeness you only get with a sibling also being not so good for you

What if you like the other villagers your age more than him? What if his girly appearance drives you away from him? (Bro u probably more dangerous with those looks than without them bc no one expects you to be able to throw hands but go on)

This leads to more and more self-doubts until he more or less bursts and just turns into someone no one wants to be around because of how aggressive he is

Thank god for the fourth wall or else you wouldn't see him like his old, not-so-destructive self anymore

Lilia is… something

His interest in you isn't purely romantic. It started out as something more like him holding onto something so he wouldn't go mad during “those days” *add fire noises and screaming in the background*

So it's more of a “I BETTER BELIEVE IN SOMETHING OR ELSE I MIGHT LOOSE MY MIND” than “Omg I am such a good follower te-he” situation

Little to no one has had access to the Overseer's thoughts and he is just randomly hearing them whilst thinking about what to make for dinner

Like Epel, he is pretty intense when it comes to you. Difference is that Epels “interest” in you stems from a place of… let's say religious views and Lilias from “those days” *fire noises and screaming in the background intensifies*

But unlike the guy who more or less shares his height and is a cotton candy version of himself concerning their hair he doesn't write down your thoughts

Oh no

This guy listens to it like he is hearing the world's greatest opera singer perform live in front of him

Thank goodness no one other than the other Diasomnia students mention your ramblings or else there would be heads flying

What? Can't a guy hope to have some special link to his deity? God, you all are so cold. Can't you even try to see his perspective? (I am joking please don't do what he does your reaction is totally valid)

But then you once mentioned how much you want to be part of his little family and whoops- there went his sanity

What if he had adopted you and Silver at the same time?

Wouldn't that be the cutest?

Sebek is almost screaming when he suddenly hears *ahem* LILIA-SAMA cooing at nothing out of nowhere

You two would be so cute growing up together and he would be the one honored to be this close to some kind of reincarnation of his God

But- but what if he was the only one knowing who you truly were? The other Faes (Malleus and Sebek being the exceptions) can't hear you so what if… what if you were also seen as some sort of weird outsider like Silver?

Don't get him wrong, the Faes have never shown hostility to his son but there was always that certain distance, Sebek and his family being one of the few accepting the young silver-haired knight as he was

Suddenly Lilia feels a certain kind of rage bubbling up to the surface like he hadn't felt in a long time

Silver… uh… you better hide that meatclea- *coughcough* I mean, legendary sword from your father

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phoenixcatch7 · 1 year ago

Text

Wayne doll house: demon children.

Idea: each of the batkids is theorised to have a different origin.

Thing is, there's so many of them. The oldest is actually the youngest in body. It seems to be able to share memories with those who follow. It changes design right before a new bat appears.

The hero in the town over is definitely one of them, but what's it doing over there?? Asking just gets non-answers.

What happened to the ones that the Joker tried to destroy? One - the oldest and smallest - came back, but different, whereas the other - the purple and orange one - came back for a while and then vanished again for good.

None of them seem to age??

The first, smallest, oldest, it seemed to be some sort of circus performer? It gave its acrobatics to the blue one when it arrived, grew clever and defensive. It gave that to the skull headed red one, focused on technology and detective work after the Incident. Then again, and again, and one time even the bat changed along with it, but though the bat returned to normal the little Robin didn't, and now it's just as stabby and creative as it is small and creepy.

It's a good sort of creepy now, after over a decade of beating up bad guys and comforting victims, Gotham has gotten used to it, but outsiders don't much like it.

The justice league have a different opinion.

They know, or at least can observe, that the... Souls? Brains? Programs? Switch around, that it's not memories but persons that bring the new bats to life.

They just don't know where batman gets them. The new one, especially, is very circumspect.

For all this talk of the blood son, all the bats calling it demon child with varying levels of fondness, the way batman doesn't deny the claims...

Thing is the bat doesn't have blood. Everyone's well aware of this by now. Whatever sulpheric black tar he and the bats leak probably-certainly isn't blood, or at least... Not anything with dna.

So... What blood?? If not the bat's, why does it tie the newest mind of Robin to him?

Captain marvel is the first to think of an idea.

A blood child of a demon for a blood ritual for a demon.

Constantine and Zatanna second the notion - it's perfectly possible. Reasonable, even. The bat admitted himself he had no way to procreate the way humans did, nor any interest in doing so. Wanting a legacy was perfectly normal.

Except he already had, what, seven, eight, nine kids? He loved all of them, it was clear, and he'd always seemed happy with them. He'd even sighed over how many he had, had rebuffed the teasing about getting more. The new Robin mind had been a surprise to everyone, and the old one in a new body had been a little salty about it.

So the new theory was that batman hadn't decided to get a new Robin. Maybe the old mind had been ejected unwillingly! It had happened at roughly the same time batman had gotten a new personality - maybe the incidents were related?

But if batman hadn't done the ritual... Who had?

Who would do something like that???

Cultists. Cultists would do something like that. But giving the bat a son unwillingly seemed... A very odd goal, even for that type.

So... Had they messed up? Had they tried to summon the bat with a blood sacrifice ritual, and summoned a demon instead? Had it partially worked? Was the bat susceptible to demon summonings?? Did the summoning damage his own mind/consciousness/soul in some way, and that led to the creation of the new demon child while the bat changed until he'd healed????

How kind of batman to take it in!

Tldr; the league thinks Robin V is a demon born/created through a failed summoning ritual involving blood sacrifice that made batman like puns until he healed. The truth is the canon events of Damian arriving at the manor only for b to get tossed into the time stream, becoming the Robin to nightwing-batman while Tim, who is much less annoyed about it than canon, focuses on getting him back. Lmao.

#Batman overhearing this absolute conspiracy of a theory: *head in his hands*#Nightwing: *struggling to stay upright through his laughter* how are they so close and yet SO VERY FAR #Damian: father. I have decided on a new origin story. I wish to tweak it to include the league of assassins however.#Batman: I can't believe I'm saying this but please just keep using the pun about wood.#One theory considered and rejected is that Alfred created Damian #However Alfred absolutely would not have done it without B knowing and approving lol #batman #possessed doll au #bruce wayne #damian wayne #Dc Robin v #cryptid batman #cryptid batfam

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lucysarah-c · 13 days ago

Text

Mounting Spring Ch. 3

Summary: Paradis has opened its doors to the world, and the Rumbling has not yet occurred. The military board insists, "We need more Ackermans!" to avoid ruining Mikasa's life. Levi agrees. Arranged marriage, explicit consent, Omegaverse. Alpha! Levi x Omega! Y/N. Mentions of underage marriage but it doesn't happen, the reader is over 21.Age gap but they are both adults. (I would say enemys to lover but they don't even know eachother to be enemys lol.) Author note: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it. From the creator of "Not in season?" I bring to you "Mounting Spring" lmao haha sorry it's just that my first omegaverse was rather a success… so I decided to do another. Masterlist to the previous parts! Ao3 link in case you prefer to read there!

The raindrops fell over the cobblestones, and, in particular, those falling from the gable were heavy against the small porch of the chapel where she waited. She breathed into her hands, seeking warmth as she tilted her head to the side. Now alone, she felt her curiosity begin to spark, like a cat finally let out of its carrier.

The narrow side streets hinted at the town’s size and social standing, with only one main road that, incidentally, was the only paved one. She guessed that if the weather hadn’t been so dreary, she could have seen the end of it. Her more optimistic side blamed the weather, but the town struck her as dreadful. In the distance, her attention was drawn to the farmer who had been inside with them.

He was talking to someone she assumed was his wife or another townsperson, with his horse beside him and a border collie patiently waiting against his leg. Eventually, both of them turned to look at her, and she stiffened under their scrutiny.

‘Should I... wave at them? Don’t small towns know everyone? Should I start getting to know everyone?’

But as her mind filled with these thoughts, they turned back to talk to each other. She pressed her lips together, feeling time drag painfully. The coat over her head made her uneasy. Almost involuntarily, she took a few deep breaths, catching a faint scent in the air, and then another, more focused sniff. It felt like cheating somehow, though it wasn’t, as her nose itched from his scent, and her body seemed to process it more deeply.

‘It’s deeper than Die...’ she thought melancholically. Perhaps it was because she hadn’t encountered many unmated alphas in her life, or at least hadn’t gotten close enough to catch their scent. ‘Well… isn’t he humanity’s strength? ...something like that. I guess it takes some strong genes to be called that.’

“All right.” Levi’s voice startled her, and she tensed, turning to see him. He was drenched from his search for horses but seemed to handle it with a calmness, like sheep who don’t mind the sky falling on them. His hand held the reins of two horses, and, if her mind hadn’t been elsewhere, she might have chuckled.

The black horse was absurdly tall and elegant, while the other was a dirty white with grayish spots, shorter and with bulkier legs.

“You can have the one I rented if you prefer,” Levi offered, handing her the reins. But she didn’t take them right away.

“Um…” She hesitated. “Sorry. I’ve never ridden alone,” she explained. Then, feeling the need to clarify, she added, “I usually just take carts.”

Levi quickly grasped the issue. After a brief consideration, he reached back and switched the reins. "Take mine," he said, extending the reins of the black mare instead. "She’s calm and obedient.” Levi said, nodding toward the mare. “Scout-trained.”

She looked at the tall, sleek horse in front of her, nerves clear on her face. He jerked his thumb at the other smaller, stocky white one. “This one, I don’t know.”

Her hand tentatively moved forward to touch the mare’s nose. At her touch, the horse nudged forward, her dark eyes focused intently on her. The mare’s imposing size made her hesitate. “Can’t we just ride together?”

Levi, double-checking the saddle, looked back and replied firmly, “No. Too much mud on the way. I don’t want to put extra weight on her.”

When he finished adjusting the saddle, he held out his arm, gesturing for her to step closer. He gave her a once-over and instructed, “Take the cloak underneath. No point in wearing it now that it’s soaked.”

‘Well… he does enjoy giving orders,’ she thought.

Feeling self-conscious under his observant gaze, she removed his coat, then unfastened her cloak, which was heavy and sodden. Her cheeks flushed as she noticed the white dress beneath was now damp and clung uncomfortably. She quickly ran her hands over her arms, trying to cover up, but Levi moved smoothly, placing his coat back over her shoulders before tossing the soaked cloak over the mare’s back.

She took her position beside the mare, gripping the saddle, though her uncertainty was plain. “But… with my dress and that saddle, it’ll be difficult to ride with my legs on the side.”

“Ride with your legs apart.”

She looked over her shoulder at him as he moved to help her up. Despite his short height, he hoisted her up smoothly onto the mare. She was perched high above him now, gripping the reins and feeling the unfamiliar weight of control. Levi stepped back and gave her a once-over, as though to make sure she was seated safely.

“This isn’t very ladylike,” she murmured, her voice carrying a note of unease as the powerful animal shifted beneath her.

Levi raised an eyebrow, still maintaining his stoic look but with a glint of dry humor breaking through. “Well,” he said, his voice calm and low, “I’m the husband now, and I don’t mind it.”

But the silence that followed told him all he needed to know: she didn’t find it funny.

“Just hold steady,” he advised, placing a hand on the mare’s neck in an almost fatherly pat. “She’s been through rougher trips than this.”

The mare, as if responding to his touch, lowered her head, brushing her soft nose against his hair and disheveling it slightly, so that her dark fur mingled with his equally raven locks.

With that, he took the reins and knotted them to the other horse and swung himself up with practiced ease, barely flinching at the wet leather. It struck her that he was completely in his element, as if he belonged here in this bleak weather and muddy roads, as if he barely noticed the discomfort.

The rain pattered steadily, its soft murmur filling the quiet as Levi guided his horse through the thickening gloom of the forest. Her soaked white cloak hung limply from the horse’s saddle. The water on it was counterproductive to keep the warmth, so she took it off. The green trench coat pulled over her head helped more, but it was far from miraculous. Despite the rain, a thick fog was rising as they left the small countryside town and ventured deeper into the forest. Soon, the cobblestones ended, leaving the horses to trudge through thick mud. The road became nearly invisible just a few steps ahead, and she cast a nervous glance at the forest, which seemed to stretch on endlessly.

“Captain… shouldn’t we wait? It’s getting dark, and it could be dangerous,” she murmured, eyeing the shifting shadows between the trees.

Levi’s response was firm, almost cutting. “I told you to call me Levi, and don’t worry.” His tone was as sharp as his gaze ahead. She wasn’t convinced, her brows knitting together in silent protest. Y/N clung tightly to the saddle of the black mare Levi had called his own. His raven hair stuck to his forehead as the rain poured mercilessly on him without his trench coat. When she pressed again, “But—” he cut her off.

“I wouldn’t do anything dangerous,” he declared, his tone allowing no debate. “If I say it’s safe, it’s safe. Understood?”

She murmured a reluctant hum, clearly displeased, but he glanced back over his shoulder, eyes piercing. “I didn’t hear you.”

She swallowed, muttering low, “Understood.” The word fell with barely concealed disdain, and under her breath, she added with a hint of defiance, “…sir.”

‘He said it wasn’t that far...’ but as they continued, it became clear that the headquarters weren’t close by.

Each step the horse took forward felt like moving deeper into an enclosure, further away from family and friends. Eventually, the rocky forest path opened onto the scouts' rustic facility—a large training field of neatly trimmed grass and a main building looming in the darkness, with smaller buildings in the back. She squinted, barely able to make them out through the thick fog but guessed they might be the barracks, possibly separated by gender.

She thought they would stop at the main doors, but Levi guided the horses further. The place overwhelmed her—she didn’t know where to look, and the quietness, at least from the outside, only made her more curious.

“Where is everyone?” she asked.

Levi looked around the quiet training grounds. “It’s late. Most of the soldiers are in the mess hall for dinner or getting ready for curfew,” he explained, his eyes sweeping the area with practiced vigilance. “Especially in this shitty weather.”

He dismounted near a back entrance, which seemed to be a service area littered with discarded training materials. When the horses stopped, she moved to dismount, glancing down to gauge the distance to the ground.

“Need help?” he asked, already striding over with firm steps, his boots far better equipped for the weather than hers. He positioned himself behind her and said, “Let go, I got you.”

With his hands under her arms, he lifted her down with surprising ease. She turned quickly to face him, but he just said, “Stay here. I’ll put the horses away.” before she could protest.

Though Levi’s presence didn’t exactly warm the atmosphere, his absence made the cold settle in even deeper. She shifted uncomfortably, her gaze darting around hectic —taking in the swaying trees under t the gusting wind, the flashes of lightning splitting the clouds. While the rain had momentarily stopped on the way back, it was obvious it wasn’t over. The forest sounds felt ominous in the dark, with only dim light illuminating the semi-open area at the back of the building.

‘I feel like a doe... in the middle of a meadow.’

Ignoring Levi’s instruction, she opened the door and stepped inside. She glanced down both ends of the corridor, where yellowish candlelight cast a warm glow. The hum of distant voices filled the air, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. ‘It stinks.’

It reeked of alphas—too many of them. Down the corridor to her left, she saw two young women, a brunette and a dark-haired one, passing by. The brunette noticed her standing in the hallway and looked back with a puzzled expression.

‘Alright, maybe this time I should actually introduce myself.’

She raised a hand slightly, giving a tentative wave, but the brunette turned, calling out to someone—

“I thought I told you to stay there.” Levi’s voice cut in from behind, firm with a trace of irritation as he locked the back door. Without further comment, he led her up a nearby staircase, his movements swift and purposeful.

“But—” she started to object, glancing to the side, but he was already nudging her forward. His hand hovered at her back, as if nudging her without physically touching her, more a mental command than a physical push.

As they ascended the stairs, Sasha, a brunette at the far end of the corridor, tugged on Jean and Connie’s arms. “See, she’s there!” she exclaimed. But when the three of them looked down the hall, no one was there—only a trail of muddy footprints.

“...She was there,” Sasha insisted.

Jean shot her a skeptical look. “Sasha, are you that hungry you’re seeing things... again?”

Sasha frowned, clearly annoyed. “I saw her! I might be hungry, but I’m not imagining things.”

“Well, she’s not there now, that’s for sure,” Connie said, stretching his arms behind his head. “Maybe a ghost?”

“A suicidal one,” Jean added dryly. “Only higher-ups use the back door. And if Captain Levi sees that mud, he’d probably drag out a Ouija board just to kick that ghost’s ass for dirtying his floors.”

Sasha and Connie started to walk away, but Jean paused, wrinkling his nose and sniffing the air with a puzzled expression. “...I do smell something strange, though.”

Sasha and Connie shrugged, both of them betas, unable to pick up on any scent. But Mikasa, overhearing, joined them, her dark eyes narrowing. “Jasmine, berries, and coconut milk.”

Jean shot her a smirk. “Well, I did switch to a new cologne…”

But Mikasa ignored him, already walking ahead with a thoughtful expression, leaving Jean to trail off, his attempt at humor forgotten.

As they moved through the winding corridors, she struggled to keep pace. Levi’s stride was steady and brisk, his attention fixed forward, but after a few glances back, he seemed to notice her struggle. With a subtle sigh, he slowed his pace focusing on her feet to match her pace.

As he did so, he couldn’t help but notice the trail of mud they were leaving behind. Each footprint was a smear of damp earth and grime on the clean floor. His jaw tightened, and he clicked his tongue in irritation. ‘Focus on the important shit,’ he reminded himself.

Reaching the door to his chambers, he patted his trousers absently, then checked the pockets of his uniform jacket. His brow creased in mild annoyance before he remembered: ‘The keys are in my coat.’

He moved closer to her, his face showing a rare hint of apology. “Sorry,” he murmured, reaching into the pockets of the coat she wore. She held still as he fished around, finally pulling out the key with a subtle nod.

Before turning the key in the lock, he looked down at her shoes, now caked in mud.

“Wait,” he muttered, holding a hand up. He gestured to her shoes with a short nod. “Shoes off,” he instructed, bending to remove his own boots first, leaving them by the doorway. She followed suit, slipping off her mud-caked shoes, which felt heavier with every step.

She hesitated, glancing at the mud-covered shoes, but then leaned against the wall to remove her shoes. He did the same, tugging off his own boots and setting them neatly to the side. Once they were both ready, he unlocked the door and pushed it open, holding it for her to step inside.

To be honest, she couldn’t say she was disappointed—her journey to his office had shown her this wasn’t the marriage she’d imagined. She’d heard the Scouts were… humble people. ‘A sweet way to call them low class,’ she thought wryly, fiddling with her loose ring, trying to keep it from slipping off her finger. Part of her almost wished the room would stay dark so she wouldn’t have to face reality, while another part hoped for a glimmer of candlelight to surprise her for the better.

Levi shut the door behind him with a subtle sigh, closing his eyes briefly, as if gathering strength from somewhere unknown. ‘One task down,’ he reminded himself, as if safely getting her to the Scout headquarters unnoticed was his toughest mission yet. He shrugged off his uniform jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door.

She stood, frozen in place, as he walked past her, lighting a few candles he’d set up earlier. He busied himself lighting more, methodically checking off tasks from his mental to-do list. “Why don’t you take a shower? The water should be warm,” he suggested.

‘And... here it is,’ she thought, her pupils darting around the room as though afraid to turn her head, scanning the place as the light started to fill it. She tried to hide her discomfort, not so much from a lack of hygiene as from a lack of warmth. Catching his eyes on her, she forced a thin smile. “Very... modest.”

‘…Empty and rustic, but the last thing I want to find out is what he’s like when he’s mad.’

The room had only two doors: one, she guessed, led to a small bathroom, and the other to the bedroom. The main space was an office with a single shelf filled with books and not much else. ‘Doesn’t he have paintings or decorations?’ She found herself searching for anything that might make the space feel less austere and more homely, something to give her a glimpse of who he was. The office seemed to be the most furnished part of the quarters, with a set of sofas, a coffee table by the fireplace, and a desk. The large arched window was probably his only indulgence, a feature suggesting he spent most of his time here.

“Shower?” Levi insisted, “Don’t take it personally, but I’d like to shower too.”

That snapped her out of her trance. “Oh—sure,” in a small voice. “Um... where did you put my luggage?”

Levi’s brow furrowed, and after a moment, he realized he hadn’t noticed her lack of belongings. “Was I supposed to have it?” he replied, answering her question with another—not a habit of his.

“I sent it ahead, two days ago,” she explained, “They told me it would be best.”

His eyes flicked to the window and the rain still pouring down outside. ‘Well… I think it’s pretty clear why that didn’t arrive yet.’

With a weary sigh, Levi leaned against his desk, one hand running over his damp hair. He looked worn out, both physically and emotionally. “This is a rural area,” he said, “and with this rain, it could take a few more days. A cart wouldn’t make it through the forest right now.”

Levi stepped over to his bedroom, opened a few drawers, and, without moving from her spot, she couldn’t resist sneaking a look. She leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse over the door frame.

She couldn’t see much, but curiosity stretched her mouth open as she craned her neck. A chest of drawers held neatly folded clothes, a couple of books stacked on top, and a wardrobe nearby had boxes on top that reached the ceiling (probably he used it as storage) with boots lined up beneath it. There was a standing mirror in one corner and she could only see the wood footboard of a small bed against the wall.

“Here, you can—” Levi turned back toward her, catching her in the act of peeking. She straightened up quickly, feigning innocence. He raised an eyebrow at her obvious interest. “It’s not as if it’s off-limits. Walk in if you want.”

‘Like a dog caught digging through the trash,’ he thought, mildly amused by her guilty expression.

“Anyway, here.” He handed her some clothes. “The rest is in the bathroom.”

She took them with a distracted nod, disappearing behind the bathroom door.

“Ah...” He let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding as he let himself collapse, boneless, into his desk chair. His hair was soaked, as was the rest of him, but he didn’t care. “A moment of silence.”

Though she hadn’t said much, her silence was somehow louder than any words. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he felt drained—he’d been through expeditions to retake Wall Maria, yet this felt just as exhausting. But as always, Levi quickly pushed himself back up, pressing the bridge of his nose to calm the headache beginning to throb behind his eyes, and moved on.

“I don’t have time to slack off,” he grunted to himself. He didn’t have much firewood left—it had been an unusually warm spring until today, and firewood was a luxury he was used to being frugal with, like nearly everything else in his life.

'She should probably dry her hair before bed,' he thought, setting a kettle of water on in case she wanted tea. He considered making himself a cup but, as “going to bed” crossed his mind, the idea shifted to the liquor he had stashed in a cabinet. He poured himself a small glass, not intending to get drunk, but needing something that soothed him better than his usual caffeine.

The fire began warming the room, and he placed his coat and jacket near it. He stepped outside briefly to bring in their shoes, cleaning them off and setting them to dry. The kettle’s whistle echoed in the quiet room, and he took it off the heat. That’s when a thought began to bother him.

‘Should I check?’ He found himself near the bathroom door, ear pressed against it, straining to hear any sign of life. ‘What if she passed out in there?... or maybe she’s just constipated and can’t take a shit’

Knocking softly, he asked, “You okay in there?”

“Yes, sorry.”

Relieved but mildly exasperated, he shook his head. She’s using up all the water in the place, he thought, realizing she’d definitely not adapted to the military’s five-minute shower rule.

Inside the bathroom, she was struggling to detangle her hair, but there was no conditioner, no hair mask, or anything remotely helpful. Her skin felt dry without any lotion, slightly raw from the harsh soap he had. Her hair smelled vaguely like cucumber, a tangled mess that only worsened under her frustrated attempts.

“We are not going to cry, we are not going to cry,” she kept whispering to herself in front of the mirror.

‘This was supposed to be my wedding night,’

For as long as she could remember, she had dreamed of her fiancé slowly, reverently helping her out of her wedding dress—a dress chosen just for him. She’d imagined him finally seeing her, her skin soft, her scent sweet enough to eat, a blend of lotion, perfume, everything.

Instead, here she was, struggling with tangled hair and an uncooperative brush, her mascara still on because there was no makeup remover, wearing a baggy T-shirt and gray sweatpants, smelling like some generic soap, with her wedding dress stuffed in a dirty laundry basket.

A million questions rushed through her mind. ‘What do I do?… Should I just lay there and let him do whatever he wants?’ ‘Is it going to hurt?’ ‘Would he force me to do something?’

“I could lock myself in here forever,” she reasoned, gripping the doorknob. ‘…Or could I?’

But eventually, she stepped out cautiously, slowly opening the door. He was sitting with his back to her, watching the fire from one of the couches. When he sensed her presence, he glanced over his shoulder. “Finally. For a moment, I thought you drowned in there.”

Eyes downcast, she muttered, “Sorry.”

Levi clicked his tongue. “It was a joke,” he grunted, feeling like nothing he said made the situation any less awkward.

Levi noticed her standing there, looking unsure and uncomfortable, and with a small sigh, he gestured toward the couch. "Sit down," he said, his tone a bit softer than usual. "Dry up. It's cold in here."

She hesitated but finally obeyed, slowly lowering herself onto the couch, her hands still clinging to her damp hair. Levi awkwardly stood for a moment, unsure of what to do next, before clearing his throat before speaking again.

"Do you want something to eat? I can go see if there’s anything left from dinner," he asked awkwardly, already knowing she hadn’t eaten since the long journey.

She didn’t reply immediately, only giving a soft hum as her response. Levi looked over his shoulder, brow furrowed.

"That’s a no, then?" he muttered, then shifted his weight and walked to the desk. He leaned against it, sipping from his glass.

"Fine," he muttered, “but I prefer when people actually answer me with words.”

She didn’t respond. He glanced over at her, then added, “You sure? I can bring something. I don’t mind.”

"No, thank you," she replied, her voice quiet but clear.

Levi let out a small grunt of acknowledgment, not wanting to push her. He felt an odd tension in the air as he took another sip from his drink. “Alright then.” He paused before offering, "Tea, maybe?”

"No, thank you." Her voice was quiet, distant.

Levi exhaled a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his wet hair as he tried to focus on the fire.

The tension lingered in the air, and after a moment, she spoke again, breaking the silence.

"When do you think my things will arrive?" she asked, a note of uncertainty in her voice.

Levi glanced at her, "Could take a while. The roads are bad, especially with this weather." He paused, his eyes meeting hers for a moment before continuing. "But if you need anything urgently, just tell me."

She hesitated, her eyes darting away. Levi frowned slightly, sensing she was holding something back. He was starting to feel a little impatient.

"Are you still on the rags?" he asked bluntly, unable to ignore the subtle discomfort in the way she fidgeted. "Need something for that?"

Her eyes widened, a blush creeping across her face as she looked away, clearly embarrassed by the question. She seemed to shrink under his gaze, her shoulders stiffening.

"I-I’m fine," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Levi raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by her answer. He didn’t know her well enough to be sure, but he was certain that something was off. He wasn’t about to let her go without offering help, though.

"Look, if you need anything, just say it." He rubbed the back of his neck, his voice softening slightly, “I can be named humanity’s strongest and all that bullshit but I’m not a mind reader,”

She didn’t meet his eyes, still hesitant, but Levi stood still, waiting for her to speak. ‘There’s no point dragging this out any longer,’ she decided.

“No, uh—” she chose her words carefully, “I’m over it.”

Levi still seemed confused, so she clarified, her face growing redder by the second. “I’m... ready for you… whenever you tell me.”

Her words dropped into the room like the cannonballs once used to break titans’ necks. Levi’s first thought, admittedly, wasn’t his most noble: ‘So... she thinks people don’t fuck when women are bleeding or?’

Lost in his thoughts and the awkwardness of the moment, he didn’t notice how she bit her lip, glancing up at him shyly. “Just—please, don’t be too rough on me.”

Captain Levi always had a comeback, a retort, a dry response. But now, he only pressed his fingers against his glass, eyes locked with hers, lips parted as if to speak but words caught in the back of his throat. Across his life, he’d seen people look at him in many ways—admiration, anger, pity, fear—but hers was different. Her eyes, reflective and tinged red, stared up at him with something close to terror. A terror filled with pure resignation, pleading him.

His jaw tightened, and he felt a knot form in his throat. ‘I’m going to make those bastards pay for this,’ He broke eye contact, turning his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

It was painful, painful for him to think someone could look at him like that. To see him as someone who might treat her as an object, begging him that at least, if he was going to do that, not to be a brute about it. But the worst part, the thought that clenched his throat even more was: ‘Like my mother…’

The room felt silent except for the branches scratching against the window in the storm outside and the flickering firelight. He forced his voice to sound steady. “Just go to bed.”

“Huh?” she asked, confused. “...Should I...wait for you there?”

Levi shook his head. “I can’t do it. Just go to bed. You look like shit.”

He wasn’t known for being the best communicator, and his words often got lost in translation. She blinked, panic rising in her eyes. “I’m...not pretty enough? I tried to look my best—I didn’t mean to disappoint. Please, don’t call this off…”

The thought of being sent back as a failure made her stomach turn. Her family, her younger sisters, her grandmother—they all depended on her.

Levi raised his hand, stopping her mid-sentence. “Oi, oi, relax. I didn’t mean that—damn it! I meant you look tired.”

“But—” she hesitated, moving a step toward him but keeping her distance.

“Shit,” he muttered, his cheeks warming slightly. “It has nothing to do with that.”

Her confusion was clear, so he forced himself to say it: “You’re...pretty, alright? That’s not the issue.”

She still looked uncertain. “If you don’t…claim me…what will people say?” she asked. “People will look down on you as a soldier, as a man...as an alpha.”

Levi chuckled, though he didn’t mean it. “Well, one good thing about who I am is that everyone’s too scared to say anything to my face,” he replied, almost gently. “I just can’t—not while you’re this scared.”

The truth hung in the air, and she resumed fidgeting with her ring, frowning as she looked at the carpet and her voice grew quieter. “What if…I never want to?”

Levi shrugged, too tired to pretend. “Then I guess we’ll wait until next spring when we’re both so damn drunk on hormones, you’ll be begging for it, and neither of us will remember it.”

"Spring?" she echoed, her caution mixed with disbelief. "But that’s a long wait..."

“Oh, well,” he said, with a dry humor, “we’ll just have to try not to kill each other in the meantime.” He gestured to the room. “Go to bed.”

"Where will you sleep?" she asked, then added, almost disappointed, "Do you... have someone else?"

Not that she was jealous, but she’d heard that “a good wife always knows.”

This time, the question made Levi scoff, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “Good one. No, I don’t. I don’t even use the bed—I sleep at my desk.”

‘That can’t be healthy,’ she thought, grimacing. But, like a mouse just freed by a cat, she walked cautiously toward the bedroom, unsure if this escape was real. That can’t be healthy, she thought with a grimace of disapproval. But with hesitant steps, like a mouse released from a cat’s grip, she headed toward the room, still unsure how real this escape was.

Levi finished his drink, then readied himself to take his own shower, thinking, ‘It’s going to be a long, tense wait until next spring.’

A wait filled with mounting anxiety.

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