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coffeeghoulie · 11 months ago

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heaven's grief, hell's rain

or 2.5k about Aether's bracelet, Mountain's garden, and Dew's grucifix.

special thank you to @forlorn-crows for helping with the flowers, hope you enjoy <3

title from Just One Yesterday by Fall Out Boy

It's not a decision Aether makes lightly to stay behind. He's tired. He's been working doubles, between serving the band, the papacy, and serving in the infirmary. And, if he's honest, he thinks he's more useful at the Abbey, using his Lucifer-granted gifts to heal. He's always been taking care of his pack, he's good at what he does.

His pack takes it... well enough. Cirrus gracefully takes over his duties, leading the band pack as they get ready for this next tour, taking the two new summons under her wing. She takes his hand, kisses his cheek. Cumulus takes his face in her hands, presses their foreheads together, whispers that she's proud of him. Rain offers him a smile and a handshake, and Swiss kisses him between his horns and draws him into a tight hug. Sunny grins, bright like her namesake, happy someone else from the band pack is staying behind with her.

His mates, on the other hand? He can count on the claws of one hand the number of times he's ever seen Mountain cry. Dew's hands curl into fists, so tight he can smell the blood where his claws pierce his palms.

Dew storms out, the ends of his hair flickering with flame, smoke billowing from his nostrils. He hasn't been this out of control of his element since those first early days, after they knew he was going to survive the transition, barely out of the woods. Mountain follows, his steps uncharacteristically loud. Dew slams the door to his own room shut, and Mountain flees to his greenhouse.

Aether wishes that he could split himself in two, standing there, struck dumb as his mates turn their back on him. He honestly can't blame them. He fidgets with his bracelet, running his fingers along the silver chain, torn between two directions.

He goes to Dew first. Fire is far more volatile than earth, and he was Dew's before Mountain was summoned and joined their pack.

The door, surprisingly, is unlocked. It's dark, curtains drawn tight, and there's a Dew-sized lump underneath the covers. It's dusty in here, Dew spending most of his nights in Aether's oversized bed, big enough for three ghouls.

"Dew? Darling?" Aether breathes, the tension so thick he can almost taste it, the sulfur smoke scent of Dew's distress heavy on his tongue.

Dew sits up, copper eyes shining in the dark. "What are you doing here?"

Aether furrows his brow. "Checking on you, Dewey."

The fire ghoul shakes his head, covering his face with his hands as his shoulders shake. With silent laughter or tears, Aether can't quite tell. "You should have gone to Mount, Aether. I've never seen Juniper that angry."

"Dewey, I'm here," Aether breathes, taking a hesitant step towards the bed. "I'll go to Mounty, but I know you're upset too. Please."

Dew growls under his breath, grumbling as he shifts on the bed. "Don't want to lose you, Aeth," he whispers, pulling the blankets tighter around himself. He clutches the silver grucifix he always wears so tightly his already pale knuckles go white.

"You're not," Aether promises, sitting down next to his mate. He goes to wrap his arm around Dew's waist, but hesitates. "Satanas help me, Dewdrop, you will not lose me."

Dew sniffles, swallowing with a click as he grabs Aether's wrist, starts playing with the silver bracelet. He counts the links like a rosary, rotating the slightly-too-loose jewelry around Aether's wrist, lips moving in a silent prayer. "You promise?" Dew asks, voice small, not tearing his eyes away from the bracelet. Aether doesn't have to pry with his quintessence to know who he's thinking of. He's thinking of them too.

"Cross my heart," Aether says, letting Dew trace his claws along the lines of his palm.

They sit there in silence, Aether pulling Dew carefully against his side, even though the fire ghoul hasn't been fragile in a long time. "Dew," Aether breathes. "I love you so much, you know?"

Dew hums, his broken tail wrapped tight around his own thigh. "I know."

Another long lull of silence. The tension not quite broken. He pulls Dew closer, turns and presses a kiss to the sharp edge of his obsidian horn.

"Go to Mount," Dew breathes after a while. "Junie needs to hear this too."

Aether nods, pressing another kiss to Dew's cheekbone. "I love you, darling. Nothing's gonna change that."

"Love you too," Dew whispers as Aether opens the door. He smiles at his mate, slipping out of his room and heading to the outside door.

It's a long walk down to Mountain's greenhouse, the glass building nestled right at the edge of the forest surrounding the Abbey. The heavy glass door is unlocked, much to Aether's surprise, and he pushes it open slowly, the old hinges creaking as it swings inward.

Mountain doesn't turn to face him when he enters the greenhouse. He plucks the baby spider plants from their vines, moving the seedlings to smaller pots.

"Sweet thing," Aether breathes, watching the way Mountain's back stiffens. He feels his heart clench as he sees the thorny vines wrapped tight around the base of Mountain's antlers.

"Aether," Mountain says, voice even and bitten back.

"Mount, please," Aether says, taking another step towards his earth ghoul.

"You didn't talk to any of us before making this decision, even though you know it affects all of us," Mountain says, still not turning back to face him. The shears snip, metal on metal, and Aether winces.

"I'm sorry, Mount. I knew-"

"You knew what?" Mountain says, and the worst thing is that there's no anger in his tone. Just cold, still, evenness. "That if we knew that you were gonna stop touring, we'd stay behind too?"

Aether squeezes his eyes shut. They sting in the humid air, or are those just tears? He can't really tell.

"Do you mean to tell me, Aether, that you don't remember what the clergy did to Ifrit when he said no? What they did to Omega, your fucking predecessor? What they did to Zeph?" Mountain's voice cracks, fingers ghosting over a silver striped leaf, the entire vine trembling under his touch.

Aether takes a long breath. The silence is thick, never mind the humidity. "That's why I didn't tell you. I thought that if it were just me, and something happened, even though Papa promised me nothing would happen," Aether stresses, "You two would be safe and away from here. And if I came with, I would crash and burn and they would get rid of me anyways. I'm tired, Mount. I'm sorry."

Mountain turns to face him for the first time, and Aether almost stumbles back a step. Mountain's eyes are red rimmed and puffy, tearstains streaking down into his stubble, lower lip trembling. "Nova," Mountain breathes, so quietly Aether almost thinks he imagines it. "I know you went to Dew first. He'd break if you were gone. If we lost you like we did the rest of our pack. But I need you to know it would break me. I'm your mate too."

Aether can't hold back the keen that he makes when he sees his mate in distress. "They need me in the infirmary, I'm not going anywhere, sweet thing," Aether swears. He starts to twist his bracelet around his wrist, trying to keep himself level. Mountain sets down his shears, tail thrashing behind him, distress rolling off of him in waves like the scent of rotting vegetation.

"You can say that all you want, Aether, but we both know."

"Mountain," Aether says. He runs a hand over his face. "Mount."

"What do you want me to do, nova?" The earth ghoul says, voice wavering like branches in a breeze. "The decision's already been made. You're staying here, while your mates and the rest of our pack leaves. And let's be honest with ourselves. Neither of us know if you'll be here when we come back."

Aether feels something shatter deep in the core of him as he watches Mountain's steady shoulders start to shake. He rushes forward just as Mountain's knees wobble, wrapping his mate up tight in an embrace, guiding his head down into the crook of his neck as he begins to sob.

He rubs his cheek against the velvet coating Mountain's spring antlers, unable to keep his own eyes from watering as he rubs Mountain's back, every muscle tense. For once, he doesn't know what to say. He just holds him, lets him cry.

Eventually, he coaxes Mountain back behind the curtain of hanging vines to his living area, a daybed big enough for the giant and his mates, a small table and chairs tucked next to a basin sink. They sit down on the daybed, their sides pressed flush together. Mountain turns, tucks his face back in the crook of Aether's neck.

"Sweet thing," Aether breathes, praying to the Father Below he can keep his voice level. "What can I do?"

Mountain sniffles, takes a second before he answers, pulling back from Aether's throat. "I miss them, Aeth. I miss them so much."

He's not looking at him, and Aether turns to follow Mountain's line of sight. He's staring almost blankly at the flower garden that blocks off this section of the greenhouse. There's a raised bed underneath one of the rafters, with a dozen hanging baskets that create a curtain of greenery. It's a visual cacophony of colors and shapes, but it's Mountain's pride and joy. Aether knows what this garden means, who each plant represents.

There's hanging baskets of oak-leafed geraniums, dotted with little purple flowers, and ones with fuzzy clusters of edelweiss. Deep purple, almost black irises shoot up from the main bed, petals ruffled and curled at the edges, broken up by bee balm and spider lilies and white and red snapdragons. A trellis of delicate yellow jasmine blossoms stands at the edge of the bed, surrounded by daffodils and catchfly and calla lilies and baby's breath.

But Mountain's eyes are drawn to the hanging cissus discolor vines, the silver striped, deep green leaves. Aether knows exactly who Mountain's thinking of.

"I know, sweet thing," Aether breathes, staring at Mountain's garden. "I miss them too."

Mountain tears his eyes away from Zephyr's plants, snapping to face Aether. "I don't want to miss you, nova," he says, just the slightest growl at the edge of his voice. Aether cups Mountain's cheek, runs his thumb over the prickly, tear-damp stubble there.

"It'll be okay, Mount. I'll be right here with Sunny when you and Dewey come home, promise."

He takes a long, shuddering breath, eyes fluttering shut as he tries to calm himself. "Aether, you and Dew are the only ones of the old pack I have left. Please, nova, you gotta understand."

Aether doesn't respond, just pulls him tight into another tight hug, big hand cradled against the back of his head, guiding his face back to his neck. "I know, Mounty. I know."

They sit there until the sun sinks below the treeline, and eventually, they return to the pack. Aether starts his shifts in the infirmary as his mates start rehearsals with the new ghoul and ghoulette. He has a lot of time to think, intake and discharge paperwork always on his desk, about how best he can soothe his mates with their upcoming departure. He fidgets with his bracelet as he thinks, and he lights up as it hits him. That's it.

He borrows Swiss's utility knife, flipping it open to the needlenose pliers, staring at his bracelet, a little too big for his wrist, how the silver matches the metal of the grucifixes he and his mates wear around their necks.

Aether waits until the night before the pack and Papa are due to leave to act. It takes a little finessing, because while Mountain takes his necklace off when he goes to bed, Dew never stops wearing his, but a little quintosis to put the fire ghoul in a deeper sleep doesn't hurt. He works quickly as his mates grumble in their sleep, subconsciously reacting to the empty space in their bed. Aether sets the necklaces in his nightstand when he's done, muttering under his breath as he struggles to reclasp his bracelet around his wrist one handed, fingers smelling of silver polish and metal.

Once he gets it clasped, he climbs back into bed, holding his mates close as he too sinks into a deep sleep. He's going to miss this, and that's the last thought he has before unconsciousness takes him.

He's woken by Dew scrambling in his arms. "It's- it's not here, I don't- Aeth, Mount, my grucifix-" He paws at his own chest, feeling for something under his oversized shirt that isn't there.

Aether sits up, taking Dew's face in his hands softly as Mountain groans and stretches behind them. "Sorry, love, I took it off while you were asleep. I didn't mean to make you panic, I wanted to do something for you and Mounty before you two head out."

Dew's eyes are still wide, chest heaving as he tries to calm himself down. "Aeth, what do you mean? Where's my grucifix?"

Aether nods, palms up and open as he climbs out from the tangled mess of their limbs. "I have them, they're right here," he says, opening up the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out the two necklaces. Aether sets Mountain's down, turning back to Dew.

"Let me?" Aether asks, avoiding Dew's outstretched hands. Dew takes in a shaking breath, staring up at his mate, and nods. Aether loosens the adjustable cord, slipping it over Dew's head, pulling his sleep-mussed braid through, and sets the freshly-polished grucifix right over his mate's heart.

Dew furrows his brow as Aether pulls away, fingers going to touch the new addition to the necklace; a small ring, plain, unadorned, but the same gleaming silver as the grucifix. "Aeth, is this..."

"Hmm?" Aether asks, grabbing Mountain's and humming as he clasps it around the earth ghoul's neck, his antlers too wide for an adjustable cord like Dew's. He settles the grucifix and a matching ring over his heart as well.

"Your bracelet, nova," Mountain breathes, putting voice to what Dew's unable to.

Aether nods, eyes flickering down to said bracelet. "Thought you might like to have something of mine close to you when you go."

Dew grins, even as his eyes flood with tears, and tackles Aether into a fierce hug. "You're a sappy fucking bastard, Aether," he says, even as his own voice wavers, cheek pressed to Aether's throat.

"Love you too, Dewbug," he says, catching Mountain's equally misty eyes over his shoulder. Mountain has a hand pressed to his chest, pressing the grucifix and ring against his heart. "And I love you, sweet thing."

Mountain grins, standing and wrapping his long arms around both his mates, the three of them soaking in these last moments before inevitably they have to go their separate ways.

Aether's right. Mountain and Dew don't take off their necklaces for a long time, long after they return from tour. They keep that tiny piece of their mate close to them, to where he lives inside of them no matter what happens.

#constantly having feelings trio feelings #did i ignore my wiplist and send this one straight to the top? yeah #anyways #the black irises are omega #the calla lilies are mist #spider lilies are alpha #bee balm is ifrit #aether ghoul #mountain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #dot's writing #aether/mountain/dewdrop #also I wanna see if my Venn diagram of ‘fob songs I’ve titled fics after’ and ‘fob songs I’ve heard live’ will be a circle again lmao

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90sbee · 1 year ago

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Pull the rope, choke me with your love.

Leon S. Kennedy x Fem!Reader 6k words (yeah, sorry not sorry). Also on a03

It feels like coming back to the surface, you think. Leon breathes loudly, panting. He kisses each boob once more, tenderly, resembling a “goodbye”. You look at his motions with half-lidded eyes, and you’re unable to move your gaze away when he detaches from your body, his hand re-emerging from your cunt with traces of your dried blood on his skin. You gasp but Leon barely notices it, rubbing the maroon strokes against his tactical pants swiftly, without any complaint, as if simply getting rid of paint after handling a canvas.

Both of you choose to delay the mission. Maybe it is because there is a confession that you can’t delay anymore.

I guess this is what happens when you get horny in your period. @navstuffs saw it first. @emilzke, you'd say you'd read something like this so, in case you feel like it! (No pressure tho, mean it!!) Content: Smut. Period sex. Everybody is a switch. (Sub!Leon my beloved). Sex with feelings bc the mutual pining is strong. There is some plot but like, it's mostly smut, ngl. No use of y/n, tons of pet names. Stupid banter, age difference. DI!Leon specifically since I don't think any other version works? Hints of size kink, as usual. Coming in pants. Dry humping (sorry not sorry there is no actual penetration in here. They do have a good time tho. Multiple good times). Warnings: +18 ONLY. Have I already mentioned blood? Yeah, it's not that bloody tho, I promise. Hair pulling, crying during sex (i promise Leon was enjoying it, tho, no dorks were hurt in the writing of this fic), mentions of choking but no actual choking in here. Biting, scratching? I'm not a native English speaker so, apologies for any mistakes.

Being around Leon always felt like pulling a rope, the material tense, and tense, until letting go of the rope would cause you two to be hurt.

Oh, but what a delightful way to go that would be.

Missions with him would be easy. Well, as easy as putting your life on the line can be. His presence was always a blessing, a protective wall of a man always up to keep you safe. And he did it, numerous times he received cuts, and got bruises on his skin, and once even let his bicep —that one that he would always touch obsessively since then— kiss a bullet, everything to keep you safe.

Even out of missions, Leon was there. He would remain close, check on you. “Gotta make sure my partner is alright,” he’d say, and the way he’d accentuate his words would get you dizzy at times.

The rope felt more like a red string now.

Caging you, his warm body on top of yours now, barely attempting to remain prude.

“You’re gonna freeze to death,” he had said, closing the distance between you two. The whole mission today had been a fiasco, even if Leon had been eyeing you more intensely than other times, stepping closer, more protective than usual. It had actually been his idea to turn back when it became glaringly obvious that infiltrating into the building would take more hours than you had planned. Retracing steps, radioing for back-up that would take until the very next morning to show up with more ammo, and finishing with the directions to a nearby safe house, which was sadly devoid of anything helpful to endure a fall night like this. “Don’t worry, they say body heat is actually the best heater,” he’d teased you, as you buttoned up your light jacket. But when he’d actually pushed you onto the ground and clumsily climbed on top of you, you knew he was serious. And though it wasn’t the first time you two had ended up so close, bodies tangling in each other, it was the first time he seemed so devoted to get that physical contact.

You let him have that. The night is not that chilly, the morning is not so far away. In the bleak, scarce space of the cabin, there aren’t many options. Sure, you could spend the night talking yourselves awake, back to back. Or maybe one of you could rest their head on the other’s lap as the other keeps a lazy guard.

But you choose to be close. Fucking close, breathing in each others’ faces. You know by now that the rope is about to cut, that you’re going to end up crossing the limits, but for now, there is no stopping. In the secluded safe house, you let Leon breathe close to your ear, pretend you don’t realize what he may need. After all, you followed him way too compliant today, no ifs or buts about delaying the mission, resting your head against his shoulder as he radioed for the damned helicopter, letting your hand graze his on the way to the cabin.

Maybe neither of you want to wait anymore for the rope to break on its own.

“You okay?”

He sighs then. Brows furrowed as he nods, his expression serious.

“Yeah,” his voice is raspy, a lingering exhaustion dripping from his words. “Just wished we could have finished with this already…”

Your hands swiftly move to his back, fingers rubbing softly over the thin material of his jacket. Leon melts a little at that, breathing against your face. A soft growl escapes his throat when your hands move higher, pressing against the muscles of his shoulders.

At that, he does seem to feel a bit flustered, looking to the side, towards the rusty cabin door. You attempt to hide the chuckle that leaves your mouth.

“What’s so funny?” He snarks, his cheeks already pinker.

“You’re literally a whore, Kennedy.”

“Jeez,” he raises his eyebrows, finally looks back at you. “You’re being an absolute darling tonight, huh… ” he muses, a smirk crossing his face.

“It’s your fault. You’re the one that decided to get on top of me, unprompted.”

“… C’mon. You know we didn’t bring any camping equipment for this crap… Just lemme take care of you.”

His explanation is, of course, true, but teasing him seems like a better pastime for this chilly night. “Well, still. I’m a lady with boundaries. Maybe I do not want a sweaty man on top of me.”

“Excuse me?” Leon licks his lips, his face leaning a little closer to yours now. “I’m not just a sweaty man, I’m your mission partner.”

“Yeah, my mission partner that decided to moan after I just massaged his back a little.”

“God, I did not moan,” he puffs out his cheeks, shaking his head.

“Well, maybe you should.”

A silence rings through the cabin as soon as you utter those words. Much to your surprise, but not regretting them. Leon stares at you, gaze unreadable as he tilts his head. You begin to feel a little nervous, your hands slowly abandoning his back.

Why would you even admit it that way? Too straightforward, too blunt. Yes, he is your mission partner, he’s got your back all these years but… What if it was just that? A good partner at work. Simply a kind man. The possibility of having confused his chivalry with affection makes you feel stupid.

You suddenly feel small under him, and you gulp, trying to squirm away from him.

“Wait, no. What did—what did you say?” He finally reacts, one of his hands cupping your cheek now.

“Nuthin’.”

“Didn’t sound like nuthin’ to me,” he presses.

Leon looks at you, and there is a new glimmer in his eyes. A certain hunger, encompassing his words and his presence. It invigorates you with a sort of bravery, and you nod, very slowly, your eyes not even leaving his. Your hands go back to their place, on his back, but this time under the jacket, under the grey t-shirt he is wearing. You observe his reaction, as a little prey seeing how much she can test the waters before death comes upon her.

His gaze moves away from your eyes, lower, until it reaches your lips. And then your hands ascend on the skin of his back, scratching slowly.

“F—fuck,” is the only thing he can manage out before his lips descend onto yours, kissing clumsily, biting the tender flesh with desperation.

The rope has fucking snapped now. You both know it. And it stings, but the burn is good, so fucking good, as his teeth bite harder, as if eager to make your lips bleed.

“Since… since when?” He demands, catching his breath.

“Don’t be fucking stupid. Since always,” you reply, kissing him once more, already missing the taste of his spit, the roughness of his mouth.

It’s as if oxygen was running out of the room, mind dizzy with him, his smell, his hands now attempting to reach under your t-shirt, but you move away, mouths parting for a moment. Leon stops, a question in his eyes. He knows you. He knows the way you react, can notice that he hasn’t overstepped anything, that your trembling figure is still comfortable under him.

“Just… you. Lemme… lemme touch you,” you try to explain, in a daze, hands now gripping his hips, and he groans against your ear. You take off his jacket, strong arms getting caressed while you do so. Leon breathes heavily as your fingers dance on his jaw, as your mouth licks his neck.

“Shit,” he lets out, every single pleasure point in his body reacting to your actions.

God, he has wanted you for so long. Trapped between his job and the impossibility to properly care for you, to have you in the way he actually desired you, he had promised himself to protect you. In and out of missions, a shadow always behind you. If he would have nothing else in his life, so be it. Just your presence would be enough. His heart is thumping, rattling loudly in his chest as the woman he’s adored for so long presses her affections on his skin.

He moans louder, hides his face against your shoulder. Lower, his cock twitches, rapidly filling up with desire.

“C’mon… Grind on me, Leon,” you murmur, words sweet as a spell.

God, if this was a dream he’d never want to wake up. And if he had somehow died, this was better than any Heaven he could have imagined.

“What are y—are you fucking serious?” He tries to inquire through heavy breaths, already losing his mind. It doesn’t even cross his mind if you would want to go further, if he could sink deep inside you, but rather, his brain is mush from just the idea of having you like this. Fuck it, your invitation sounds like a blessing to him.

“Please… You’re so good to me…” you add, needy.

He growls again, but in the way a wounded animal tries to scare its hunter away. He is fucking broken, deliriously split apart into a thousand pieces because of you. At your feet, drunk in your smell and your minx-like hands.

You move your pelvis, legs interlocking around his hips, the feel of your cargo pants against the hardness between his legs making you whine.

God damn. He is already hard anyway.

Leon obliges, as if enchanted by you, unable to refuse such a delicious proposal. Your hips move in tandem with his, and his hard cock aches in his pants, grinding slowly against your clothed cunt.

“Fuck,” he whines out, as your fingers then graze the skin on his back once more, deliriously making him lose his mind. “Gonna kill me, huh?”

You bite his jaw once more, wetness pooling between your legs with every moment. It is funny, how hours before the dark cabin seemed to be a cold refuge, yet now it seems to ooze warmth, sweaty bodies full of desire.

And though this Heaven seems way more than a man like him could bargain for in a hundred lives of sainthood, Leon breathes heavily, suddenly aware that this might be wrong. It might be, since you’re younger than him, and he has been your mission partner and you two work together and mission partners cannot be involved and—

“No, we—we shouldn’t…” he stills himself then, voice heavy.

You look up at him, gentle eyes blessing him from underneath his body.

God. You look so beautiful and his heart is gonna jump out of his chest and he wants to continue but you will surely agree, right? You’re too young, too soft of a creature for someone so broken like him and—

“Why?” you caress his back slowly, tilting your head.

The openness of the question throws him off his mind.

“Well, we… I mean… I…”

“We can stop if you need it,” you quickly add, nodding. You want him, yeah, but most importantly, you respect him. It is the least he has earned, after all his loyalty throughout the years.

He gulps, and shakes his head.

“No, I do want it… I just—” Leon huffs, licking his lips, still in disbelief.

“Leon… I want you. Been waiting for this… Been craving you,” you try to explain it in devotion terms, a language you’ve both shared for a while. He seems more relaxed at this, and hides his face on the crook of your neck, his breathing steadier as you stroke his back.

“I promise… Promise it’s not just about…” he begins, but you nod.

“… I know. I mean… I imagined so,” you admit, belly heating up not just from his weight on top of yours.

A confession.

He stays quiet for a moment, arms flexing as he changes his position, lets himself fall a little closer to you. It’s clear he won’t ask for it again, but god, you do want to give it to him. Boner already needy, body too vulnerable to be left like this.

Once more, you do it for him. Move your hips gently, chasing the pressure he provides against your cunt. Leon then moans, kissing your neck.

“I… I can?” he asks, tentatively.

“Yes, please.”

He won’t ask more, no need to ask twice. Though his brain may be hazy and overwhelmed by your perfume, he knows nothing could compel him to stop this, not now that he knows you want him.

Your hands return to his back, scratching the skin harshly, noticing how his breath hitches.

“Oh, god,” he coos, closing his eyes. His pelvis dancing harder against yours, movements faster.

Leon finds your mouth once again, trying to kiss his shame away since he already feels so close. In between the fact that he hadn’t had sex in a long while and the fact that, heck, it’s you… He is trying his hardest to stretch the moment, to not ruin it already…

But you do notice it, of course. When you pull apart one of your hands goes to his jaw, forcing him to look at you.

“Leon.”

“Fuc—yeah?”

“Ask me… ask me for anything you want… You deserve to feel good.”

He fucking growls at that, so entranced by your words. His hips suddenly stopping for a moment, his heartbeat accelerating.

He has almost come.

“Pull my hair, please,” he breathes out after he is sure he can continue for a bit more.

Swiftly, your hand moves to his hair, grabbing a strand at the back, near his nape and pull hard.

“Oh, fuck,” his movements are faster now, cock rubbing too harshly against his underwear and his pants but he needs it, needs you so much. You pull his hair once more, your other hand clawing at his back as you also grind against him, the spot between your legs already dampened.

The sensation feels like too much and not enough at once. It hurts from how sensitive his member is, rubbing himself raw against your legs, but oh god. You offer him the hottest sight he has had the pleasure of witnessing in his life.

He presses his face against your neck once more, panting next to your ear, unaware that he is painting your skin with his own tears.

“Gonna come… Fuck, gonna come,” he cries out, moving faster and at some point you grind against him too, pressure becoming too much as you pull his hair and, fuck.

His elbows almost give up, unable to hold himself properly on top of you, but he avoids crushing you with all his weight still, as he rides out his orgasm, now tasting the salty tears he had spilt.

Leon breathes heavily… but he doesn’t want to stop.

Quickly, his mouth sinks on your neck, kissing and biting, causing moans to leave your throat.

“Le—Leon,” you pant, body sensitive and wetness already ruining your pants.

“Need to touch you… please? Need to taste you…” he begs, and one of his hands goes to your belt, buckle released as he nears your zipper…

You groan then, in frustration, and he frowns, gaze back on your eyes.

“What is it?”

“I’m… I’m on my period,” you admit, barely a whisper.

You look at him, shame crossing your features, the bitter reminder that your body may have ruined the moment that you have dreamed about for so long. “Sorry,” you add, voice timid.

“Hey, no, no apologies,” he immediately coos, his hand travelling to cup your cheek. He looks at you with an immense softness from his glistening eyes, full of love. Leon sighs before moving forward, leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“Would you like to stop?” He asks, close to your mouth.

Your thoughts are hazy, body still churning from inside. It’s clear that you don’t want that option but you’re unsure on how to proceed under this situation.

Leon rests his forehead against you, his face awaiting for your reply. There is no rush in his tone, quite the opposite in fact. He looks at you as if willing to stare at you for his whole life, existence content with just the sight of you. That gives you more confidence, even with the threat of uncertainty on the horizon: you trust him. You trust him more than anyone else.

You shake your head.

“Good girl,” he praises you. “I’ll just make you feel good, take care of you, okay?”

His voice is raspy, but soft, resembling his touch. A little harsh, a little rough as he pulls the zipper down and wriggles your pants down. Yet the pads of his fingers are exquisitely tender, caressing your thighs. Your underwear sports a huge damp spot just in your gusset, but Leon seems blissfully willing to ignore it, even through your heavy breaths.

He moves lower, pulls your t-shirt up slowly, immediately kissing the flesh of your hips.

“Fuck,” you mutter, curving your back.

“Attagirl,” he moves to kiss the other hip, biting slowly.

You moan then, skin shivering under his motions, his touch.

“… You’re teasing.”

Leon chuckles, kissing near your navel as he rubs your sides and your arms.

“You know, I don’t hear you complaining, though.”

Ah, he is acting cocky now. You giggle, amused at his remark, while one of his hands rubs your inner thigh.

“Bet you’re so frustrated that you can’t touch more,” you shake your head, looking down at him.

“Who said I can’t touch more?” Leon says, raising his eyebrow.

“Wh—Oh,” you try to ask what he has in mind when he swiftly moves his hand straight to your cunt, rubbing your clit over your panties. “F—fuck.”

The sonofabitch… You close your eyes, body slowly tensing under his touch. Leon rubs a little faster for a moment, and you move your hips, breath hitching in your throat.

“This okay, baby?” he checks, motions slower and gentler.

“Yeah… Yeah,” you open your eyes, nodding. He looks up at you, places a kiss on your belly once more. Your hand moves to tangle in his hair, needing something to ground yourself before you get lost in him.

“I got you, I got you,” he says, gentle, so fucking gentle you could melt in his hands, as snow under a strong relentless midday sun. You sigh, trying not to overthink your situation, how at any point your body could embarrass you, end up staining your panties with blood or…

“You’re nervous,” Leon says, serious.

“I’m not,” but your voice is a little shaky.

He snarks. “Can’t make you come unless you relax… Do you trust me?” Leon moves closer, leaning forward, almost against your face once more though he never stops rubbing your clit. The motions make you delirious, contact too soft but so good… You mewl, dizzy.

“I do. I trust you.”

“Good,” he remarks, and he kisses you. You notice his hand moving from your panties to your back, his mouth biting your lips with delicacy as Leon unclasps your bra. You whine at that, but he keeps on kissing you, his presence overtly strong and reassuring on top of you. Yet he doesn’t feel overwhelming, but rather, comforting. Like a wall against which to rest, like a pouring rain after a dry summer.

You think you love him. You’re quite sure you did before, but when he moves his mouth lower, biting your jaw and licking your neck as his thumb gets lost under your panties, you’re certain that no man could ever own you in the way he does. Handling your body with the most utter softness, as if dealing with a piece of Heaven. His thumb dances between your legs, stopping just on your clit, and Leon starts circling it, again, and again, and again…

“Oh, shit,” you moan, your heartbeat racing. You can barely keep your eyes open, overwhelmed by his devotion. His touch is desperate, even more heightened by how much he licks your neck, kisses it.

“Doll, look at me,” his words are heavy and clingy.

“Ye—Yeah?” you feel so utterly broken already. Leon moves his thumb faster, the circles making you moan once more.

“Want to use my mouth, can I? Please?”

By now you don’t know what he means, but you immediately nod. Like you’d do during missions, when you would simply take a leap of faith, you let yourself jump with him, letting him guide you to wherever he deems more appropriate.

You already trust him with your life. What difference could this make?

“God… so gorgeous,” he beckons, more to himself than to you, smiling. He quickly moves your t-shirt and bra out of the way, before diving his mouth to your breasts. There, he licks, and kisses, tongue painting your nipples with his saliva, as if blessing your body with his sin, letting you shower in his desire.

“Fuck, Leon…”

He continues moving his thumb gently, and you’re about to moan when you feel his middle and ring finger dancing on your lips, toying with your entrance. “Shit” more of a complaint, your tone raspy. His thumb presses harder against your clit as the other couple of fingers keep the sweet motions, never diving inside you. The thought of him probably getting his fingers messed up with your blood crosses your mind, but then Leon bites your nipple, before lovingly pulling it between his teeth. His thumb is now moving faster, circles rougher on your most sensitive spot, as the other fingers keep teasing your opening.

Your moans are the loudest symphony filling up the room, mixed in with the way he whines, mouth obsessed with your breasts. You curl your back, your hips getting hazy and desperate as Leon increases the speed of his movements.

You wished you knew which good deed you committed in another life to be blessed in this way now. As careful as possible, you grab onto him, as your hips are now dancing against his thumb, chasing after his touch. You’re half-breathless by now. You scratch his back, his arms, sink your nails into his nape as he bites the other nipple, sucking it harshly.

“Gonna come, God….” you whine out, thighs trembling under him.

“Good… Please, come for me,” his tone is the farthest thing from a command, but it seems to drive you exactly there. The way he desires you, desires this so fucking intensely… The heat in your stomach sweeps away with everything as he licks around your nipple and his finger toys with your clit once more. You melt under his touch, coming obscenely loud for him.

And the worst thing is that he continues, his mouth hungry still, his fingers circling, rubbing up and down your abused flesh, until you cough under him, unable to whimper anymore.

“It’s… Need a pause,” you let out, barely able to utter words yet.

He doesn’t fucking care. A man used to dealing with death, and grim and pain. It’s not the first time that he’s felt the warmth of your blood, as he has patched you up after the most gruesome missions, as he has held your bloody hand after you cut it with a sharp glass at home. He doesn’t fucking care, but rather he feels relieved, the comfortable knowledge that, this time, the blood has nothing to do with you being hurt. This time your blood doesn’t feel like knives digging into his skin, him boiling with concern. It’s just a warm reminder that you’re safe, and alive, and that he is finally touching you in the place where’s imagined himself drowned with you a hundred times already.

This is real. Leon is not dreaming, not this time.

You breathe out, calmer, his gaze feeling like returning home.

You’re still catching your breath when he leans closer, kissing your forehead.

“You okay?” he mumbles out, concern in his tone.

“More than okay,” you smirk.

Leon chuckles, amused. He lets his body fall on top of yours, still in between your legs, and he searches for your hand: takes it in his, the thumb that so much pleasure had brought you now caressing your palm.

“Babe…” his voice is sultry, and as he moves your thighs open with his own, you immediately notice the hardness pressing against your leg. Still, the contact seems too much for him, and he whimpers against your neck, his actions devoid of any shame.

“Damn, Kennedy, again?” you tease under him, cheeky stare defying him as he looks at you.

“Mhmh,” he replies. “I understand if you don’t want me inside, but…”

You cut him off with a wheeze. “Fucking subtle you are.”

“Hey, you want me to be fucking explicit?”

“Sure, let’s hear it, big guy,” you hold his hand tighter, as if prompting him to attempt anything, but immediately his cheeks go a few shades pinker. “Ow, getting shy on me?”

“You’re being fucking cocky for someone who just had an orgasm. Maybe I should give you another one to see if you calm down,” he lets out, eyes deeply boring into yours.

“Is that the special treatment you give to the ladies you sleep with, huh?”

“No, just you,” he replies, gallant.

You can’t say you don’t want it. Leon kisses you again, his tongue licking your lips and you moan for him. He squeezes your hand as his other hand goes between your bodies, to his zipper. You can barely notice the belt unbuckled, the zipper falling down. He bites your lower lip and maneuvers his pelvis closer to yours.

Fuck it. He just wants you. Whatever the duration of that miracle is, he wants to enjoy it, to pleasure you again, to be as close as the moment allows it. Even if this was the last time in his life he has you, he would commit this sight —of you under him— to memory.

He loves you: wants to get you drunk on him, on his body. A silent conjuring, a way to win you over. Because God knows you have him wrapped around your finger, red string of yours choking him as he devours that notion, of being owned. A fucking dog on a leash, and even if that was just a mere strained rope, he’d paint it red with your blood, force all heavens and hells to make you two work, intertwined by the same unbreakable bond.

The cabin feels suffocating. Leon kisses your neck, murmurs praises against your skin. It is overwhelming, and gentle, and so much and he hasn’t even started yet. Sighing next to your cheek, he grabs your thigh, pulling your pants even lower, adjusting his covered boner just against your cunt, and your breath hitches in your throat.

“Oh, God,” you let out, squeezing his hand even harder, since he hasn’t let go of you. It is an anchor as you experience this, as the cold breeze that enters the room kisses your nipples.

“You’re still with me? I can go gentle. Just want us to feel good, won’t ask for anything more,” he asks, moving his hips slowly against you, contact electrifying even if you’re both still wearing your underwear. You nod, eagerly, and he sinks his body closer once more. You grip onto his shoulders bringing him even closer as his hips slowly dance against you.

By now, all concerns, all fears are simply gone. In the humble little moment that you’re both sharing, there is no place for anything else apart from the devotion you hold for each other. Leon kisses you, needy, as his member rubs against your clothed clit, and his mouth seems to replicate his needs, with how delirious his tongue makes you feel.

“Fuck, Leon,” you mewl, mouths parting just to breathe once more. He smirks, his eager mouth kissing your jaw, your neck.

“You don’t know how long I have waited for… for this. For you,” and the way he says it gives you goosebumps that have nothing to do with the cold air that enters the cabin.

“Leon…” you pull him closer, as close as he can be. His body is practically on top of yours, his member rubbing faster against you.

“Mine,” he asserts, remarking his words with another squeeze of his hand. The other one grabs your thigh, opens your legs more so he can lock himself even closer, grinding harder.

The air makes him dizzy, the sight of your willing body under him gets his heart wild. Fucking hell, he has already came in his pants once, is he gonna do it once more just from humping your cunt? Leon whines, the feel of your hard nipples against his t-shirt making him lose his mind. And when you touch his back again, just like earlier, he moans.

He doesn’t care what happens to this mission, doesn’t care what happens to the rest of the evils of this world as long as he can see your precious face like this, as much as he desires it. This thought pushes him forward, and he starts to move his hips faster.

“God, god, oh, shit, Le…” you whine out, his motions rough as he chases his own pleasure too. But it feels so good, even if it hurts a little, even if your soaked panties do nothing to protect your decency by now, even if period droplets are probably leaking out of your panties.

You don’t want it to ever stop. Desperate, you let your hand go from his grip and hold him against your body with abandon, fingers directly against his skin, keeping him there. Leon growls at this, understand your needs and humps you faster, biting your neck, half-breathless.

It’s such a stark contrast to the way you two always treat each other, both on the field and on your day to day. It as if now that the veil is gone, that everything has fucking snapped, there was a certain aggressiveness that needed to be let out, that was always under the surface, ramping up, eager to crawl out of you. But it’s also full of passion, as his teeth never mark you too much, and your nails don’t draw blood from his skin.

Maybe you two needed this: a love that was a little broken, a little violent. A tender purging of your sins.

A connection born out of loyalty, out of blood.

You moan loudly when his movements get messy, rhythm getting distracted.

“Please, hold it in for me?” you beg, unable to ignore the signals of his desire. “Just a little bit” you add, knowing that you just need his rough touch for a moment longer, your body still craving his magic.

Leon nods, panting.

“I’m gonna—gonna come soon,” he warns you, trying to not let his cock ruin the path of euphoria he wants you to walk.

“It’s okay, me too, Le.”

“…Fuck,” he whimpers, and you pull his hair once more, your legs hugging his hips.

His thoughts are all mush thanks to you, but he can still hear how the sweetest moans escape your mouth, so he keeps going. Too sensitive, too hard, underwear soaked, but he continues for you. At some point his member rubs against your clit, harshly, and it is too much for you.

You kiss him, moaning into his mouth as you come, panties gushing out your juices and even some more specks of blood. Your whole body spasming, unable to keep quiet.

God. His pretty angel, his pretty girl, the most deserving of eternal springs and of the most devoted love. Leon has always felt you owned him. Not trapped, but rather at peace with you. Fuck, he is certain now. You carry a fucking leash, tied around his neck and he has no choice but to follow you, stay beside you. Both a shadow and a lover, stupid smitten dog but he wants to guard you forever.

He has wanted to hung up the Moon for you since the moment he met you, so when he finally sees your blissed-out expression, the moonlight caressing your face, he feel like he deserves it.

Not just this. But you.

His cock is leaking precum, it aches, needs to let go. He pushes harder, knows that he can, because you let him, because you scratch his back and search for his mouth as he grinds harshly against you.

He comes. Hard, pouring his seed onto his boxers.

It’s as if he could die now.

Both of you sigh, slowly. Leon kisses the bitemarks on your neck, you press the pads of your fingers gently against all the scratches on his back. For a little moment, the world doesn’t breathe. Just lets the two lovers that have finally found each other revere in this contained breath.

All that needed to be said, to be done, to be pinched and purged and snapped, it’s finally out.

You caress Leon’s jaw, look at him through sleepy eyes.

“I think… Think mission partners don’t do that,” you say, voice raspy but a smile etched on your face.

Leon smiles as well, his heart overjoyed.

“Nope, they definitely don’t,” he replies, his eyes never leaving yours.

You chuckle.

“You’re okay?” You ask him, cupping his cheek and Leon closes his eyes, sighs.

“I should be asking you that, baby.”

You now have the decency to blush at the pet name. And when he opens his eyes, and kisses your palm, you feel like your chest could explode from holding so much light inside of it. Oh, he could call you anything and you’d just let him. He owns you. You’re pretty sure he does, that he painted his name with your blood on your cunt, a bloody and tender signature, marking you as his artwork, ruining you with his cum for anyone else.

“Is that pet name gonna stay?”

“Do you have any other ideas?” He asks, moving to stand up, but you giggle and pull him closer to you, your legs still holding him down. Leon wheezes.

“We can discuss pet names and the such after… a date. ‘Cos you owe me a date, Kennedy.”

“Oh, we’re really back to last names, now? Dang it,” he lets out, and you can only laugh.

He is a fucking dork. Always will be. Maybe what will be different from now onwards is that he will be yours.

That night you fall asleep in each other’s arms. Your underwear has been irreparably stained, his boxers as well, the zipper of his tactical pants does not zip up anymore. A constellation of lovebites, scratches and the remains of your period. All bloody and needy and most delicately violent.

Too rough. Too honeyed to survive you both.

Leon hugs you tightly in his arms, comfortably cuddling as if it isn’t the first time.

Maybe your bodies dreamed so much of this day that they both instinctively know how to position arms, how to tangle into each other as to breathe the other in.

Maybe no string was snapped tonight, but rather, you pulled it so much, that it sank deeper into your veins and just pulled you two impossibly closer.

If you've made it to the end, cookies for you! Also, may write more for this two, I liked the dynamic a lot. (I love soft dorky Leon, can you tell?)

#x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy fluff #nsft #mdni divider and #divider by #@/cafekitsune #support banner by #@/vase-of-lilies #mine #writer bee

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