#you know those people who just wake up pretty and never put in any effort or care but are beautiful anyways | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lapis-lights · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 03 | Kiss the Skin From My Lips

'Falling From Grace' Series

[Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x Reader]

Song Title: Call Me What You Like by Lovejoy

Content Warnings: NSFW (18+ ONLY), Unprotected p in v, Porn with feelings, Creampie, Some dirty taking but nothing too intense, The lovers in enemies to lovers

Word Count: 14.1k

Author's Notes: Chapter three of the Falling From Grace series! Sooooo....this is really my first time attempting a smut scene so criticism would be really appreciated if you have any! Otherwise, I hope you guys like this chapter :)

Posts are scheduled for 8 a.m. EST every day until the series is complete!

Series Masterlist

Ao3

Summary: As tensions ride high between you and Leon, you execute your first infiltration mission of the J.I.E. lab. What you find inside is more than just a few simple monsters, but rather a life or death situation and an experience that leaves you and Leon absolutely breathless.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

And you can kiss the skin from my lips if it makes you feel good... I'm not sure if you want it; I'm not sure if you need me too.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

When you wake up, there's a deep ache in your bones and you think sourly of how you're getting on in your years.

At this point, don't people start planning their retirement homes or something? You've led anything but a normal life so really, you wouldn't know, but from what you've heard, it's gotta be something along those lines. When did your twenties end and your thirties begin?

Jesus Christ, you've let yourself go.

You start your morning routine, ignoring Leon who's still happily snoring away, and taking a trip down to the first floor to the gym room. There's some flimsy equipment down there and it's definitely not the high quality stuff you get at actual gyms or at the J.I.E.'s professional training programs, but you'll have to make do for now.

You start with simple stretches to warm up as you ponder everything that has happened last night.

You think about the way Ada had looked and by proxy, Leon. He's never mentioned her to you ever so you suspect there must be a reason for that. Maybe he wanted to protect her from you in case you decided to go on a rampage or something, but that didn’t make sense either. Was Leon into the type of woman that could fend for herself or did he just care if she was a looker or not?

If that’s the case, you were definitely crossed off the list. The scar tissue bears a heavy burden.

You lose yourself in the familiar burn of exercise and it feels oddly good to hurt in the ways that tell you your efforts weren’t going to waste. Eventually, this moment of peace will come to an end just like all good things, but right now, you stay in the intensity of your workout. You don’t even notice the door opening.

It’s a guy you haven’t seen before, clean shaven and muscular. You can tell he keeps himself fit but whether it’s for work or just for show, you don’t know. He doesn’t look bad at all with dark doe eyes and light brown hair that sweeps across his forehead enticingly.

“I didn’t know pretty girls vacationed here,” he says and you rip your eyes away from the floor to meet his. What little respect you had deluded yourself into making for him bleeds away and in a split decision, you decide to play with him just a little.

“And I didn’t know good-looking men frequented these parts,” you fire back, batting eyelashes and giving him the most innocent look you can muster. “No need to flatter. I’m sure you could pull someone better than lil’ old me.”

“Don’t put yourself down so fast, babe,” he snorts, heading for the weights and you mentally roll your eyes as you see his intent to try and impress you with reps.

However, you keep up the disguise and take a seat on a nearby medicine ball while watching him carefully. “I’m not putting myself down–it’s the truth.”

He doesn’t answer but he does make sure to put extra emphasis on choosing a fairly heavy hand weight and beginning to rep without any warm up. Silently, you know he’ll pull a muscle eventually and all for a woman he’ll likely never see in his life again. Womanizers like him never made much sense to you, but you suppose human instincts can make people irrational at the best of times.

“So you got a boyfriend?” he asks and you hum.

Would you? Should you?

“Nobody you need to worry yourself over,” you decide on answering, which wasn’t much far from the truth itself in all honesty. “Why do you want to know?”

“I want to know if there’s anybody keeping me from taking you out.”

“You’re at a hotel,” you scoff. “Do you have anybody waiting for you back in your room?”

“Nobody you need to worry yourself over,” he grins.

So he did come here with someone. How disgusting. You’re not the most morally correct person in the world, but even you understand the basic agreement of being in a relationship, and furthermore, you kow the importance put on the concept of loyalty. Well…you know how it’s supposed to be.

“Right,” you sigh, “and what are you proposing we do?”

His eyes flash suggestively and if you had the energy, you’d projectile vomit. “I’d take you out for a real nice dinner then bring you back to mine so we could-”

He shuts up when the door flies open and Leon strides in so confidently you forget that he’s supposed to be back at the suite stuck in dreamland. However, the stormy glance he gives you is nothing compared to the downright murderous glare he directs at the guy you hadn’t bothered to get the name of.

"Woah, man," the guy says, blissfully unaware. "You must be riled up for a serious workout."

"No," Leon answers, voice clipped and tight in a way you've never heard him before. "I was just looking for my wife who happened to get a headstart in her day without me."

The guy's face pales when he motions to you and you shrug non committedly before getting up and opening the door that leads out. Leon is hot on your heels as you make your way out and it's not long before he's gripping your wrist and pulling you back to stop your stride.

"Mind telling me what the fuck that was?" He demands, keeping his voice just quiet enough to not disturb the other residents.

"I was having fun," you hum, "since you're providing no entertainment for me."

"You can't just go wandering off where I can't see you."

"I'm not a child."

“Of course you’re not, but you’re practically a walking target for any undercover agent,” he sighs as you wrench your hand from his grasp and scowl. “You scared me is all.”

The sentiment might’ve been sweeter if your brain didn’t remind you of his latenight amorous meeting with Ada and it sours your whole mood even further. Long gone is that steadily growin soft spot and it only gets replaced by stone cold bitterness. Had the world always been this dark?

You spin on your heel and ignore the confused sound Leon makes as he follows closely like he’s afraid he’ll lose you again.

“You’re losing your edge, Kennedy,” you sniff dismissively.

“What?”

“Isn't this all some complex business partnership to you?” The walk to the room seems to drag on longer than you like and the nagging feeling of his eyes on you makes you want to scream, cry, and break all at once.

“Where the hell did you get that idea from?” he asks as if this whole thing would be any different than past encounters.

You ignore him, approaching the suite and unlocking the door with your keycard and pushing through roughly, not waiting for any protest from Leon. Your brain flies with so many unanswered questions and they’re so loud that you want to fall to your knees and beg them to stop.

Unable to take it anymore, you whirl around and he almost runs into you from the abrupt halt.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?!” You demand, bordering on a plea but he doesn’t need to know how deep the desperation went.

His dark eyebrows knit in confusion. “Like what?”

“Like–” you struggle to form a coherent line of thought, “–with those eyes.”

You know you don’t make much sense but you can see it register in his expression, dusty blue darkening into electric and the atmosphere rapidly shifts from one emotion to another. He’s so close now, less than an arm's reach away, and he looks at you from beneath his lashes in a way that’s enough to drive you to insanity.

Why was he doing this? How was he doing this? How was Leon of all people drawing you in deep enough to get under your skin? How could he command the tension between you like it was a simple race down a one-way street and simultaneously provide no context behind his motives?

Why did Ada come by last night and how did she know who he was? How did she know you?

These questions sprout one after another like those depressing time loop videos of flowering plants. He answers none of them and it’s only all the more infuriating.

“Leon,” you swallow harshly and stand your ground. “What do you want from me?”

The question is left hanging in the air, an unoccupied noose. It’s intimidating, dread on your shoulders like a heavy burden as you wait for an answer that never comes. Leon just looks at you like he was waiting for you to come to some revelation and answer the question for yourself but no such reason comes forth.

Ridiculous.

He does nothing, and his nonchalant exterior only makes you more infuriated and frustrated with the sensation of talking to the equivalent of a brick wall. Instead, Leon’s eyes flick around your face as if he was soaking every detail, absorbing as much as he could. You watch him warily like a hawk, wondering just how much longer the two of you could dance around this issue of unspoken feeling and silent motive.

Then, his eyes travel down to your mouth in a way you would’ve missed if you blinked. Your lips part as his tongue darts out to wet his own, the muscle gliding along his skin and leaving a light sheen of saliva behind.

The movement is miniscule but addicting all the same, and you’re almost knocked breathless with the urge to pull him close just to get his hands on your body. You want to kiss him so badly until his lips swell with the imprint of yours and his passion matches to suit your own. You want the taste of that spearmint gum he always carries around and the aura of alcohol that always stays with him no matter where he goes.

Craving flares in your stomach as tears well in your eyes, confused and angry as to why this was happening now.

Did Leon know how much he was torturing you? Was he just pupeteering you around just to leave you cold and alone like your family, friends, and past lovers did? You wouldn’t be able to handle that–you can feel it. That would be your breaking point, your hamartia.

Your death.

It takes all of your strength to pull away from him and his hypnotic spell though you’re not sure if he even had an inkling of the self-torment you’re undergoing with this new revelation.

He doesn’t stop you as you escape onto the balcony, slamming the sliding door closed, and gulping in the oxygen like you held your head underwater too long.

An ugly sob rips from your throat and self-loathing burns bright and hot in your gut. The heat is almost too much to handle as you hate yourself for allowing yourself to cry like this over something so miniscule and especially because of something Leon had done. He doesn’t even have the audacity to be sorry.

Still, emotions are nothing new even if your understanding of love is so warped beyond repair. You’re stronger than this. You’re better. You have to be.

Your knees give out and you have no choice but to fall onto one of the patio chairs and let the numbness spread through your body. The tears begin drying tracks on your cheeks as new ones follow the path of the old, but you don’t have the heart or energy to wipe them away.

What were your feelings about Leon truly? It’s obvious you don’t hate him as much as you had before and the thought of him dying now scares you more than ever. There’s still some old hate there, just behind your ribcage just waiting to explode outward again, but dulled by an entirely new portion of your brain.

The portion of your brain that wants to kiss him. The one that wants Leon to take you out on dates and make jokes as your husband and admire him under the golden lighting of the sun. The one that charges into your old self with a fierce snarl and starts a battle for your wishes and dreams.

Your head hits the back of the chair and you screw your eyes shut, trying to make sense of the whole entire thing.

Nothing but the image of that desolate and dead landscape from your dream comes to mind. You can still hear the rolling thunder and cracking lightning as if it had happened right in front of your eyes. You can still feel the sticky blood on your hands and the metallic scent permeating the air as lifeless eyes had stared up at you.

Devoid of passion. Devoid of anything.

Is that what you wanted–what you wished for? Is that your happy ending?

Somehow–for some inexplicable and unknown reason–you don't think so.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Guns weigh heavy in your palms, but in a cruel twist of fate, it also means home.

The power to kill someone lying in a variety of sizes are the only way to survive in your profession. That much is obvious. You've been through the same song and dance a million times over and then some–so this? This is nothing new.

Tensions have been high in the suite as you do your level best to avoid Leon while confined to such a small space with him. Over the past couple of days, your interactions have lasted with only a few clipped words and making plans to infiltrate the lab you'd found in the clothing department dressing room. Today was the day you'd decided to put your plans into action despite how poorly they've been communicated.

You know for tag team missions like this, communication is vital. However, you can't bring yourself to care. Being dealt potential death seems much better than having to face Leon and grapple with the warring thoughts tugging between wanting to end him and wanting more with him. He doesn't make it any easier.

He's not bitter. The exterior he puts up paints him as a grumpy middle-aged man whose experiences have only made him all the more angry at the world. You know him better than that, though. That's just how he is naturally, and if he was anything but that, you would know best how to spot the signs. However, this new attitude of his is something you’ve never encountered before so it’s hard to pinpoint just exactly what state of mind he was in.

Over the course of just a couple days, you find yourself struggling to hold on to that composure you worked so hard to craft. Leon leaves you alone and allows you to have your space, but even then, it takes all of your willpower just to not stare openly.

You indulge yourself late at night when his breathing deepens and your thoughts are just between you and whatever potential god there was. There were nights where your thoughts run rampant and take whatever chance you allow to admire him. You wish that there was something more between you emotionally and nothing physically. You want that sensation of his body on yours and what that might entail, and you want him deeper than you ever have before.

Shamefully, you wonder if he would burn just as deliciously as you imagined or if it would be more just because it's Leon. Would that controlled blaze turn into a wild forest fire under his advances? Would he steal your breath away roughly or would he take his unrelenting time to savor you all? Would he aim to watch tears roll down your cheeks or would he kiss them all away with whispers of sweet nothings?

Your enemy, putting you at the mercy of his hands and body, was a thought you kept sealed away tightly. Nobody could ever know about it.

When the morning came, you had checked your back and was delighted upon knowing that the wound had healed thanks to the full effect of Leon's questionable herbs. You'd put on your tactical gear over it, stretching to get the blood flowing and downing a coffee for good measure.

While he's in the bathroom, you check over your weapons once more and make sure all of your guns are loaded and stocked. Running out of ammo has been the reason for near-death multiple times so it’s especially crucial that you don’t make that mistake today.

Alone with your thoughts, you finally grapple with what you’re trying to do today.

For so many years, the J.I.E. had silenced you and molded your mind and body into a perfect little war soldier under the pretenses that you were making the world a better place. You’d been a fool, blind to the millions of deaths that were paying for the price of a few lives until that veil was snatched away and revealed the horrors of humanity to you.

Your eyes shut as you remember the chains, rubbing your wrists raw as you were forced into discipline. The memory of cold metal kissing your skin before breaking through it, promising worse if you hadn’t obeyed was fresh as a morning bloom in your head. Your own screams had sounded like they were from someone else, leaving your throat torn and your vocal cords frayed.

Leon would never know the extent of the pain you had gone through, even if he’s the only one that knew the basics. You were afraid of what he would think of that–of you.

He emerges finally ready and you stare wordlessly at him. A silent understanding passes between you and the two of you jump into action.

The car ride there is a blur. Despite having walked before on your small outing when you first got here, you'd figured it would be much easier to have a getaway vehicle ready and parked a couple blocks away just in case. The store opened early, and just in time for you to sneak in inconspicuously.

Avoiding employees was easy, especially after you had swiped a keycard from the manager’s stand upon finding it carelessly abandoned.

The dressing rooms were easy enough to get into and you led Leon into the one that you had changed in while you tried on that pretty little dress he recommended. It’s only been a few days but that night feels like it was so long ago, especially with how many cycles of emotions you’ve been subjected to since then.

Upon removing the middle panel, holding the keycard up to the gray block causes a loud click to sound out that notifies the door has been unlocked. Uneasily, you breathe in deeply and push in.

The interior is something you’re familiar with since it took on a similar appearance to that of the lab you’d been assigned to. However, the layout is foreign so it’s a toss in the air as to where anything could possibly be. The walls are lined with thick cords that are warm to the touch and the vibration of the lab's electricity current hums under your feet. You take out your handgun, keeping your finger off the trigger but staying alert all the same.

Leon fires off a shot and you whirl around just in time to see a camera falling to the ground brokenly.

The initial entrance is a straight shot but eventually you reach a hub of sorts where there are multiple tunnels branching off into different directions. Above them are signs that list the area of interest that each one led down to, ranging from dormitories to experimentations. The offices were the most dangerous to try and breach since multiple people working meant a bigger crowd to try and disperse if you got caught, though you're convinced that this place must be overrun like an ant colony.

"Where do we go from here?" Leon asks and your stomach flips.

You haven't heard him speak since your fallout a few days ago so it's an emotional whiplash being reminded of what exactly the most miniscule things about him do to you. Things that shouldn't elicit such reactions, making your skin spark with invisible electricity and putting your brain on high alert when he so much as breathes heavier.

"Anywhere we go is gonna be crawling with workers," you answer, keeping your composure. "They're usually confined to their assigned station for the whole day before being let off to go home. We should try and go to one that has the least amount of people or the biggest advantage for us."

"Where do you propose that might be?"

You look up at the labels above the tunnels before settling on one. "The observation deck. They use it to record the progress of their bioweapons and monitor any potential dangers they might pose so they're on a tight schedule. We might be able to find something about what they're doing there."

He nods and together, you make your way through the tunnel, shooting down any more security cameras you see and testing for any potential defense mechanisms they might have installed. It's eerily quiet besides the atmospheric noises and suspicion rises in your mind as you wonder why you haven't seen anybody thus far in your journey. You'd expected a flood of scientists or at least one assassination attempt as soon as you stepped inside, but maybe this wasn't as uptight as the lab you were at.

The observation deck was a series of catwalks crossing over a large arena, presumably where they let their bioweapons roam free while they stayed a safe height away from it. From where you entered, it happens to be in the 4th level, though the platforms stretch to multiple stories above your head. It looked almost similar to the pictures of the lab beneath the white house that Wilson had hidden away with the whole incident with Jason, though this one lacked any chemical experiments in the middle.

“Let’s go,” you whisper, pointing up to a space encased in glass. “They might have reports we can get into over there.”

Just as you go to begin walking, the static cracking of a speaker jumping to life immediately halts your steps. Leon whips around, pushing his back to yours as you defensively cover each other with your guns at the ready. There’s no telling where the speaker might be or where it was located, but the fact that it was active at all is a problem.

Then, the crackling dissipates and the voie comes through, muffled by the poor quality of a microphone.

“So you’ve finally made it,” the voice purrs through the intercom. “We’ve been expecting you.”

Neither you nor Leon answer, swiveling around and searching for any oddities while keeping your wits as the speaker crackles again and clears.

“Unfortunately, we don’t appreciate outsiders much, Agent (L/n). You should know that more than anybody.”

You grit your teeth, trying not to let their words get underneath your skin.

“Ah, well. You were a valuable asset to us. It’s so unfortunate we’ll have to do some clean-up, so to speak.”

Beneath you, something crashes against the wall with a violent boom and the dark growl of something massive reverberates through the whole entire room. A sick sort of dread grows as you look down before glancing back at Leon who’s sharing the same thought process as you are. It’s not that hard to deduce what would happen next, and silently, you pray to whatever’s out there that you would make it out of this thing alive.

“You really need to work on your speeches, pal,” Leon snaps and you would’ve laughed if you weren’t stuck in such a precarious and unpredictable situation.

“And you need to work on your manners, Mr. Kennedy,” the voice cackles, all ugly and sounding like they were hacking up a lung. “You’ll be regretting those words when you’re dead. Entertain the animal for me, will you?”

The speaker clicks off just as a metal door below flies off its hinges and nearly blows through the wall of the arena below. You break from the formation you and Leon had set up to look down at what you’re up against and your eyes widen with horror. It’s got multiple appendages whipping out from every limb, taking on the sick appearance of some mutated spider. Multiple eyes glow yellow as it glances around before zeroing in on you above it.

“Leon,” you mumble, backing up and he only gets a sparse good look at what you're up against before he’s grabbing your wrist and sprinting down the catwalk.

The beast screeches upon seeing its target on the move and one of those long arms shoots upward to latch onto the railing of the walkway. You just barely make it onto safe ground before it’s yanked away and the whole path crashes to the ground. Panic curls in your chest as you remember what had happened the last time you had faced off a bioweapon, and you start running after Leon once you gain your bearings.

All along the sides are countless offices that hold large filing cabinets, though they hardly matter in this chase scene. The monster hisses, spitting something before launching upward and beginning to climb the walls rapidly towards you. You’re able to deter it with a couple well-aimed shots to its head but, it only makes it angrier as well.

Once it’s up, your stomach jumps into your throat upon seeing that the thing is almost twice as tall as you are. It lumbers toward you with a hiss as it secretes acid that burns into the ground. Leon stops in front of you, pulling out a rifle and pressing the scope to his eye. You’re confused as to what his approach is until he shoots and the monster reels back in pain with a scream. When you look, you see that he’s hit one of the multiple grotesque eyeballs that embed along the legs of the mutated spider. It’s not hard to see where Leon was going with this so you take out your own rifle to join him.

Gunshots ring in your ears as you and Leon rain down hellfire, backing away every so often to put distance between you and the bioweapon.

Leon runs up a flight of stairs before shoving himself into a crevice that's only large enough to fit one. You stumble up after him and turn onto another catwalk, looking back and almost vomiting. The ugly monster's wounds are leaking pus that chews holes into the ground it walks on, eyes flicking wildly before finding you–entirely missing Leon–and heading frantically in your direction.

Of fucking course they made all of its bodily fluids acidic. What else would you expect?

You switch out your rifle for a magnum and shoot around Leon as he brings up the rear. He works on picking off the rest of the leg eyeballs while you set to getting the fucker right in between it's menacing yellow eyes. The recoil is almost unfamiliar, but you swiftly get back into the rhythm of handling the weapon, walking back before reaching to your tactical utility belt and yanking off an incendiary grenade.

You pull the pin, throw it, and shield your eyes from the burst of flames that erupt and start licking along the spider's body. It shrieks so ungodly loud that you would've almost clapped your hands around your ears if you didn't remember where you were and what your goal was. You reload your magnum as quickly and accurately as you can manage, and keep shooting. Leon sprints out, using the weakened legs as leverage to swing himself onto its back and start stabbing it with the combat knife he'd been hiding.

He's a genius and lunatic all at once.

You suppose this must be nothing new to him since Leon's faced who knows how many bioweapons at this point, but this is your first time seeing it up close and personal. He fights like it's second nature–like he's simply just breathing. It's mesmerizing to watch, but the moment is over when he gets thrown off into your direction and lands heavily in front of you directly onto his arm with a pained grunt.

You wince, hoping that it hasn't been broken or dislocated, reaching out and hauling him to his feet when he accepts your hand. Together, you keep shooting as Leon pulls the pin on a hand grenade and throws it at the spider's feet. You halt, palms covering your ears as it flashes multiple times then explodes, taking the mutated monster down with it.

Organs go flying everywhere and you duck to avoid the majority splatter of the acidic blood. The explosion causes a creak and only the middle portion of the catwalk sinks before crumbling down into the wreckage already created by the first ruined walkway.

Leon stands up, panting heavily as he looks down into the mess below that has sparked a fire and was burning merrily as if you hadn't just killed a man-made monster. Speaking of which, whose body had joined the metal below and had speared onto the sharp pieces that jutted out like a homemade spike pitfall trap.

He turns to you, going to open his mouth to say something but is rapidly silenced by a creaking groan and then he shouts in panic when the ground beneath his feet gives way. You gasp, lunging forward and grabbing his hand on instinct as the portion of the walkway falls into the void below and he's left dangling precariously from a fatal height with only you to hold onto.

He glances down then back up at you, desperation in his eyes as you both come to the same realization and conclusion.

You could kill him right now.

All you had to do was let go and it would all be over as if this never happened. He would be out of your hair and all that torment he subjected you to would dissipate like cotton candy subjected to water. This would all end if you would just take the chance to drop him into that dangerous trap where you would never have to see him again, never have to worry about him again. You could drop him and turn away without a second glance to see if he survived or not.

Leon’s eyes flash and you know exactly what it is despite never seeing it before. It’s pure unadulterated fear, with his life hanging in the balance of someone who had expressed distaste for him a healthy amount of times and whose certainly not favorable towards him in any way at the moment. Even if he saved your life, were you so willing to give up this once-in-a-lifetime chance?

You have the high ground now.

You determine his fate.

You could end it all right now by just yanking your hand away and taking back everything you had done to improve your relationship with him.

Your heart thuds marathons in your ears as all your muscles twitch and have a war in your mind. The thoughts curl and shriek around each other, fighting for what they believed the right thing to do was and it felt like the whole world was watching you for some sort of revolutionary choice.

You wince, knowing what your decision is.

Hauling Leon up, your legs burn as you lift his weight from the ledge and onto safe ground, rolling away when he finally lands on the stable ground that the catwalk had been attached to. Your lungs beg for air and you pant, faintly registering what just happened as you ride out that high of adrenaline. Leon must be out of it if he hasn't made a sarcastic quip about almost dying.

"We need to get to safety," you say, shakily getting to your feet and almost stumbling back down from the shock factor.

He only nods and you reach out to help him up. Even though you didn’t drop him to his untimely death, he looks at you warily before accepting the offer, almost falling to his knees again before you shoot forward and catch him. His body heat radiates through your skin and your cheeks set ablaze at the proximity even as you sling one of his arms around your shoulders and support some of his weight as you begin walking.

“There’s a safe room I saw on the way while we were running,” you mumble, avoiding making any sort of eye contact. “We can go over there and make sure you’re not hurt.”

“What about you?” He rasps and it leaves you wondering why he’s so adamant about the state of your health when he’s just looked death between the eyes.

You laugh breathlessly, almost sarcastically if you weren’t still riding the high of that fading adrenaline. “Don’t worry about me.”

You and Leon make your way to one of the cubicles, and you set him down carefully on the office chair that he manages to unceremoniously slump into. It’s clear that his almost-death is impacting him, though you now well that this isn’t the first time he’s had a touch of the afterlife. It really did make you wonder what about this time made it any different.

While he squeezes his eyes shut and massages the shoulder he’d landed on, you reach into your bag and pull out a first aid spray for him to use when he’s ready before standing and taking in your environment. The computer is innocently waiting on the stand with the J.I.E. logo set as the wallpaper, and there’s a filing cabinet that you try to open. It doesn’t give way and you mumble out a curse under your breath as you start poking around the desk drawers for a possible key.

Leo pops the top off the spray bottle and starts healing his wounds while you flip through various pages inside. Most of them are unhelpful and just detailing things you already knew until you tumble on a report for the spider you had just killed.

You put it into a manila folder that you put in your bag, rummaging around more until you find a hidden compartment that holds the key to the file cabinet. Upon opening the locked drawer, you find reports on agents–including your own–and details on the imports and exports the company had been engaging in.

Then, you hit the jackpot.

First and foremost was a folder of maps that laid out every level and room there was in the entirety of the lab. Then, there was a large binder that recorded every experiment the J.I.E. had engaged with the creation of their bioweapons, even detailing a new virus that they were meddling with. You flip through, finding monster after monster that has failed and succeeded. For now, this would be enough until you could figure out a plan using the map and going over the particulars of the experiments.

“We should go now,” you decide. “This is more than enough to figure out where we’re going and what we’re up against.”

Silence.

The lack of response causes you to turn around and peer questioningly at Leon who just nods mindlessly and gets up. He doesn’t meet your eyes and this attitude only makes you all the more confused. What had gotten into him?

Nonetheless, he follows as you make your way to an elevator that you go up in to return to the main hub that you had entered through. You suppose that nobody had watched you through the cameras and just automatically assumed you were being taken care of by the spider bioweapon since it's still suspiciously dead silent.

You still stay alert, and if you hadn't been so on edge, Leon would've walked right into the wire trap that had been meticulously strung across the tunnel. You pull him back sharply without thinking, fingers lacing with his as you yank.

He grunts as you pull away, going to carefully disarm it, figuring this was their way of alarming anybody you made it out alive. The explosion surely would have let someone know that there were two unauthorized people still running around, so it was good you had seen the thin wire and the two dark devices flashing red lights. Then again, you'd expected Leon to be just as attentive as you were to your surroundings.

Something was bothering him. Seeing him like this wasn't helping you much either, dying to know just what had him so distracted.

The two of you finally make it to the exit carefully pushing outward into the dressing room whose door had been locked when the two of you entered to prevent anybody seeing things they shouldn't be. A quick pack of wet wipes is enough to make yourselves look decent enough to not look like you’d been playing around in dirt and gunpowder, and you make plans to shower once you got back to the hotel.

All throughout your way back, Leon still stays infuriatingly silent from the lab to the suite, and the question as to why teases the tip of your tongue.

You get inside, let him know you're going to run yourself a bath, and retreat to the restroom as you sigh out with a whimper almost escaping in the process. In the solitude of your own thoughts, you finally let yourself feel that pain and anguish and confusion that you always hold back in the presence of Leon.

Fighting didn’t help at all. If anything, it only made it all the worse feeling guilt or something akin to it.

Would he ever tell you about Ada or was that just something you would have to figure out for yourself? Could you ever be closer to him knowing that he had said you meant nothing to him? It must be true if he had said it without expecting you to hear, and somehow, that sentiment causes a stabbing pang in your chest. It’s a wonderful and horrible thing–wanting someone so badly but knowing they would never want you back.

It’s a bittersweet taste on your tongue with a pungent aftertaste stinging your tastebuds, dooming yourself in the process.

Emotions were always so easy to stomp down and kill before. What about this whole ordeal could possibly make this any different?

Some dark part of your mind whispers that you know. You know what this provocative emotion is that makes your head spin and act irrationally, but you’d die before ever admitting it out loud. This may as well be worse than a death penalty–or rather, it is your death penalty.

The sound of rushing water acts as a soothing white noise until the tub is full and submerging yourself in the warm water causes a sigh of relief to fly past your lips in a gentle exhale. You take your time, washing your hair and massaging fingers into your scalp to help focus on releasing all of that tension that has built up over the past few days. The water turns gray from all that built up grime and dust and the soapy suds merely adds to the discoloration once you actually start scrubbing.

Once you’re done, you feel more human, more in control. The thoughts have quieted, and you finally start to feel like you can get a grasp on yourself again. You think you’re ready to see Leon and just simply resign to the watching the city on the balcony or going to sleep early like the past few days have allowed you. You can live with this. You can do it.

Once this is all said and done, you can part ways. You can forget him.

You could…

You have to. Right?

You step out, steam chasing after you as if beckoning you back into its warm embrace and you find Leon staring out the window mindlessly. You get hit with deja vu as it reminds you of the first morning you’d gotten here and watched the sunrise together. That was when you were nothing more than unlikely but eager allies. Now? You don’t know what you are.

You don’t want to be the one that wants him while he just wants the entertainment. You’re smarter than that.

“Hey,” you call out and he turns slightly, acknowledging you. The atmosphere turns slightly awkward when he provides no verbal answer. “I’m just going to go sit outside for a bit since I guess you want to be alone right now. If you need me, I’ll be-”

"Stop."

His command makes the words fade from your tongue and you swallow harshly. The first words he’s spoken to you since asking how you were at the lab are spoken roughly, making your heart drop into your stomach. When had you started listening to him when he ordered you around? You weren't one of his rookies or agents on his team, but right now, you were completely and totally at the mercy of whatever he might do.

"Why did you save me?" He asks tightly, turning around and finally getting a good look at you in an oversized t-shirt with pajama shorts barely peeking out from underneath the hem. His eyes wander and he swallows harshly. "You could have killed me–ended this feud and finally been the hero of this whole story. Why did you do it?"

You don't have to think about the answer, but it's shameful. After giving him the cold shoulder upon hearing him with Ada and sealing your emotions in a tight little glass bottle, they come spilling out now for Leon to pick through and judge.

"I don't want you to die," you whisper, taking a step back, afraid of whatever he might say.

He moves toward you at an excruciatingly slow pace, expression unreadable and more intimidating than the literal bioweapon you had survived just hours ago. You match his footfalls backward and you think this fear must be what prey feels like when death has locked eyes on it.

"I can't–We can talk about this, yeah?” You try explaining, wondering if there was any possibility you could talk your way out of this. “It doesn't matter–not really. We just…"

You're rambling now, trying to find an excuse to stop those blue eyes from piercing your soul and peeling away every layer of defense you've built up. He keeps getting closer and you're running out of room to escape to. You've never been more scared of him than in this moment–even when he almost killed you the day you met, you've never felt like this. A deer in the headlights, electricity coursing through your nerves as your brain struggles to choose between fight or flight.

Did he know? Did he know about all those lingering gazes and words that held guilt behind them and all those emotions that you weren't supposed to be having clogging up your chest?

Your back hits a wall and you're fucked.

Leon's hand finds your waist when he's close enough, your skin rushing hot as his breath fans your face and you smell spearmint. It's addicting. He's addicting. Your heartbeat rushes in your ears, pounding anxiously as the nerves in your body light up like a Christmas tree.

When he speaks, it’s all low tones and so fucking attractive.

"Sweet girl," he murmurs, affectionately raw in a way you never would've imagined him to be. His other hand comes up, cupping your jaw delicately and all the blood rushes to your face.

He's called you many things before, and has used more than enough adjectives to convey this disdain for you. Annoying, disgusting, naive, revolting, repulsive…but never in a million years would he have called you sweet. You must be dreaming, and if you are, you never want to wake up.

"I'm actually a very indulgent creep," you wheeze out and barely conceal a whimper. "Leon, you-"

He cuts you off as his lips press onto yours and all rational thought leaves your brain in an instant. His mouth molds to yours, fingers on your waist mindlessly beginning to run circles as he presses heavily onto you as if this is what’s been wanting just as much as you. All you can feel is him, his hands on your body, his mouth working your own in such a sinful way that makes your head spin and your stomach do cartwheels.

You close your eyes, let yourself fall from grace, and plummet.

His tongue licks into your mouth and you moan as he presses you further into the wall as if it were possible. His grip turns almost bruising on your skin as he guides the hand that had been caressing your waist down to your thigh, prompting your leg to wrap around him. When you get the hint, he uses the momentum to haul you up and you squeak as he gets his arm underneath you with ease and stabilizes you.

Leon laughs breathlessly, and he kisses on your neck. Your fingers thread through his brunette locks while you work on refilling your lungs with air. This small hint of joy–this humorous moment in something so tense–is what really matters. You can’t believe this is happening, but the way his touch burns is more than enough of an indicator that this is real.

He moves with you in his arms like you weigh nothing. Leon lets you down onto the hotel suite's bed gentle enough to not hurt you but still rough enough that you bounce from the buoyancy of the memory foam. Your back hits the mattress and everything seems to fall into place the way it should be.

Leon's hands are all over you, trailing from your hips to your stomach and up to your chest. The touch of his palms burns your skin like trails of heated lava pleasantly oozing along your veins. He burns so brightly but yet so so good. Leon hikes up your shirt, exposing your stomach to the cool air that blows across your burning body as his tongue pries your mouth open again. You hum in satisfaction as his wet muscle curls around yours hotly and arousal sparks in your gut as you feel slick just starting to begin pooling uncomfortably in your panties.

He pulls away, kissing the corner of your mouth as he pants, your legs still straddling around him even while you lie down. He looks so fucking pretty.

"Cat got your tongue?" He teases and you kick him lightly in the back with your heel.

"You wish," you retort mockingly. "You're all bark and no bite."

Leon raises an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge?"

You smile, something genuine and soft and so beautifully crafted just for him. "It's whatever you want it to be."

"Then let me tell you how I want it to be." His hot breaths fan across your skin and you really do feel like you're already burning as his fingers pull your shirt further and further up your torso.

"Go ahead," you pull him closer, noses bumping together as you press a feather-light kiss to the stubble on his cheek. "I'm listening."

"I want you underneath me," he admits it like he's in a confessional, but whatever this is is far from holy. "I want to hear how you sound when I make you feel good, sweetheart." He nips at your neck, soothing the tiny burn with the flat of his tongue. "Can I do that for you? Will you let me?"

You wouldn’t just hand everything over to him on a silver platter. A little teasing never hurts, right?

"I don't know," you hum, though every instinct in you screams to submit just so he can do whatever he wants with you. "All this just for a little entertainment? You sure do go all out, Kennedy."

"Is that what you think this is?" He pulls away and you almost protest at the lack of contact until you get a good look at his expression. Something like sadness and doubt lining those electric blue eyes that you've come to stare at for hours.

You don’t like the sudden shift in atmosphere so you shake your head in hopes of clearing those shadows away from his head. “Of course not–I’m sorry. That was a bad choice of wording on my part.”

He laughs, nervous and still lingering with some semblance of unease. “You sure know how to keep me on my toes.”

“I haven’t been this close with someone in a while,” you admit and shift your eyes to a random spot on the ceiling, trying to ignore the giddy feeling that came from him still hovering above you from between your legs. “You should know I’m not very…experienced or anything. I’m sorry.”

“Quit apologizing,” he chastises, fingers tilting up your chin so he can lean upward to press a warm kiss to your forehead. “I won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

You take the time to consider this, knowing that whatever was about to unfold would be something big in your relationship. It feels like there hasn’t been enough time to process your undying devotion for him or the questions that still linger behind Ada’s appearance, but you do know that this is something you can work out. This is something you want.

Still, there’s just some things you can’t let go of.

“Before I answer that,” you sigh, hating that you’re bringing down the mood with your fears. “Can I ask what Ada was doing here–what she wanted?”

Leon’s eyes take on a new emotion and his whole body tenses. You’re afraid that you’ve struck a chord he wouldn’t want to discuss and you fearfully wonder if this would sever any chance you have with him.

“You know Ada?” he asks and it’s painful when he says so. Whatever she means to him, it must not herald any good will.

“No,” you frown. “I heard you talking a few nights ago on the balcony. You…” The words don’t come off your tongue stubbornly, trying to stuff themselves back into your throat. “You said I was nobody–that I meant nothing to you. I mean, if that’s true, then what could you possibly want me for?”

The sting of it all comes rushing back in this incredibly vulnerable moment. You were never good with intense emotions nor did you have a good handle on them when they exploded outward like a volcanic eruption. It’s no surprise when the tears start threatening to fall, though you curse them and hold them back in an attempt to keep your dignity.

Leon makes a wounded noise deep from the back of his throat.

“I was trying to protect you.”

It doesn’t make sense. “What?”

He ducks his head, and you desperately try to understand. “She’s backstabbed me more than once. I can’t count how many times Ada’s used me for her own gain, and I just–I couldn’t just let her get her hands on you that easily.”

“So…?”

“I lied,” Leon pleads, and the ice melts away from your burning heart. “You mean everything to me, (Y/n). I can’t lose you like I’ve lost everyone else.”

“Leon,” you whisper, all too vulnerable and drowning in that unnamed emotion. The answer to his questions and advances pours from your lips like a sacred waterfall, ready and yearning. “I want you. Make me feel good–I’ll let you.”

His pupils dilate and he dives back down, claiming your lips with his in a rougher kiss than the ones previously before.

Your fingers tangle in his hair when he moves down, tugging on your shirt so that it could finally come off over your torso. The cool air blows across your hot skin, moaning when he massages the pad of his thumb around one of your nipples, and the pleasure sends your thoughts into a whirlwind.

“You have no idea how much I’ve thought of this,” Leon murmurs, eyes slipping shut as if he was trying to map out and memorize your whole body.

You don’t get to ask what he means by that when he opens his mouth and licks the flat of his tongue wetly across your tit. Your head tilts back of its own accord, a strangled moan escaping in the process before you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise. Heated shame rushes to your cheeks as you look down, already finding Leon gazing up at you, mesmerized.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he prompts, pulling your arm away. “Let me hear you, sweetheart.”

Why was he so persistent with the pet names? If he keeps this up, you’ll be nothing more than just putty in his hands.

“Stop,” you whine, covering your eyes like that would change anything. “You’re gonna drive me insane if you keep saying things like that.”

“Do you not like me calling you names?”

You peek through your fingers to find him all the more attentive, trying to find what you don’t like and what you want. That love, care, and attention was something you never had–never deserved. How could you tell him that he’s giving you everything you want while not discouraging him from doing so?

“It’s not that,” you swallow shamefully. “Nobody’s ever told me that. Or called me anything, for that matter. It’s just new–I think I’m trying to figure out how to handle it all.”

His expression darkens and you think he might tease you or tell you to suck it up. Instead, Leon almost growls out, “Nobody?”

You make a noise of confirmation.

“Oh, baby.” He rests his cheek on your stomach and traces patterns on your skin. “Your last partner didn’t?”

You scoff, deciding to be vulnerable just this once. “My last partner was in highschool, honey.” The pet name feels foreign, but good nonetheless. You can understand why he seems so insistent on using them with you. “Like I said–it’s been a while.”

“Even so.” He picks up his head and shakes it, moving even further down and hooking fingers into the waistband of your shorts. “They didn’t appreciate you like you deserved then.”

Your voice cracks as you rest your head back onto the pillow and whisper, “I don’t think I did.”

Down, down, down your shorts trail along your legs, leaving you in nothing but a lacy pair of underwear and all too vulnerable emotionally and physically. You make a noise of dissatisfaction, tugging on Leon’s shirt as he was still unfairly dressed.

He chuckles and gets the hint, leaning up to throw it off as you get to admire his body. There’s multiple scars from the tussles he’s engaged in with fighting bioweapons for a living, but one in particular catches your eye. Set proudly on his shoulder is a bullet bound that looks to be years old, all knotted and improperly healed. He must’ve not had the right care available to him when he got it. Leon sees you eyeing it, and smiles, albeit a bit sadly.

“Don’t worry about it,” he urges, falling back over you and kissing you softly, leaving a peck on your chin as he keeps going down.

“I’ll worry about it later,” you compromise.

Leon lifts one of your legs, trailing featherlight kisses down your calves and into the inside of your thighs before swapping to the other and repeating the action. You sigh blissfully, letting that arousal build like a growing fire in your belly until you absolutely need something to quell it. You need him to do it–nobody else.

There’s nobody else in the world you would be this exposed to. There’s nobody else you need.

“Leon,” you whine, hips gyrating as the accumulated wetness has become noticeably uncomfortable. “C’mon. I’m dying here.”

He actually laughs at that–not a chuckle or a huff of a breath that you’re so used to. A laugh, warm and genuine and painting lines across his features that you commit to memory in case you can never have this moment with him again. The possibility that this is a one-time thing is terrifying, but it gives you all the more reason to savor it.

Granting you some reprieve, he finally, finally, presses a heated kiss to your clothed clit and you cry out, hips bucking up of their own accord because you needed more than just the slight touches he was teasing you with. Leon gets his hands on you, driving your pelvis down and holding it in place as he licks a heated stripe up the outside of your panties. It's a warm, wet, and wild sensation–one that gives you a taste of Heaven without actually being there.

The feel of it is enough to drown you as you struggle to writhe beneath his restraint, head tossing back and heart fluttering to the beat of hummingbird wings. Your fingers tangle in his hair instinctively and pull, earning a delicious groan from him that reverberates through the room. You’re obsessed, or something along the lines of it, and you hope this never ends.

"You're so beautiful," Leon murmurs, eyes fluttering shut before he begins yanking off your panties like they offended him personally. Your glistening core is exposed to him, positively dripping from just the small things he's given you so far. "Jesus Christ, sweet girl. Is this all from the little I've done?"

You squeak as he positions your legs over his shoulders, breaths puffing right over your waiting cunt that impatiently pulses with the need to be filled. He still doesn't allow you much room to move and a desperate little noise makes its way from your throat as he teases you with everything you want so close yet so far.

"Use your big girl words," he prompts gently, tilting his head so that it rests on your inner thigh. "I need to know that you want this."

"I do," you whimper immediately, trying to find solace in tweaking one of your nipples for some sort of pleasurable reprieve. All that dignity you'd been trying to preserve goes out the window. "I want you so bad, Leon. I can't take it anymore–please, please."

"Good girl," he purrs, all sultry and seductive.

You choke on a gasp when his lips close around your folds, sucking sharply and swirling his tongue in your clit roughly. Instinctively, your hips break free and shy away from his touch, but Leon has none of it and merely pulls you back down to keep attacking your poor cunt. You moan freely, hand tugging on his hair as he laps up your arousal like a dying man and when his eyes flick up to meet yours, the fire in your belly flares.

You cry out his name, unable to vocalize or convey just how good he was making you feel. You've never had this before–this attention and euphoria.

Leon's head nods into you as his tongue fucks you deeper and you squirm under his ministrations, pushing against his face in vain as if he could grant you more than he could. He sinks his middle finger into your wet heat, tongue circling on your clit as he pumps in and out of you. The noises your pussy makes when he adds his ring finger and starts rocking them in and out of you would almost be embarrassing if you weren't so focused solely on how he was making you feel.

He eats you out like this would be his last meal, savoring the taste of you on his tongue as he fingerfucks you brutally. Experimentally, he curls his fingers up and you squeal, babbling incoherently and just settling on begging him to let you go. You can feel it building up just as he brushes against a spot deep inside you that makes you ascend, and you squeeze your eyes shut as the pleasure pricks tears in your eyes.

He moans appreciatively, sending vibrations throughout your whole body and as you grind desperately against him. He keeps you as still as he can manage, but you're not a world-class agent for nothing. Even as Leon tries to control the thrusting of your hips upward, he also has to work on keeping your legs spread open in case you crush his head in between your thighs.

Maybe he wouldn't object to it.

Leon pulls away, watching his fingers disappearing into you with a nonexistent resistance, cooing over your whimpers. "Does that feel good, sweet thing? Fuck, you taste amazing."

You keen at his words, face blazing hot as he momentarily takes the time to rub his wet fingers all across your folds so that cool air kisses between your thighs. "Leon!"

"You say my name so prettily," he sighs erotically, pushing his fingers back into you and scissoring harshly as he's knuckle-deep. "You gonna let me stretch you out? Gonna let me fuck you so good, all you can think about is my name?"

"Please," you whine again, and you have a feeling you'd be asking him for a lot tonight. Trying to think of any way to speed up the process so you can get what you really wanted, you whisper desperately, "Baby, I need you inside of me."

"Fuck," he hisses, voice gravelly as he begs. "Let me fuck you, angel. Let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours."

Your legs spread even wider as he works on getting his jeans off, and you eye the happy trail that takes route from his belly button and disappears into the waistband of his boxers. He's leanly muscular, though he's nothing short of attractive to you.

To think that only a couple weeks ago, you would've killed yourself before even thinking about having sex with Leon Kennedy. Now, you think you would offer up yourself to whatever god existed just to be able to have this again–to be able to have him again. This vulnerable moment where all he wanted was to make you feel good and to hear you scream his name is something that has come straight out of your fantasies.

Fantasies during nights where you thought about touching yourself because of him but holding back because trying to hold back your noises while the man was literally sleeping in the same room was a horrendous idea. All that time you thought about what he would do to you and craving a touch you never thought you would get is paying off as he eyes you hungrily from above, licking the slick you'd left off of his fingers and palming the obvious tent in his boxers.

"You're staring," he comments slyly and you roll your eyes.

"And you're thinking about me," you accuse.

A smirk grows on his face, a mischievous glint in his blue eyes as he shuffles down the waistband of his underwear only slightly but just enough so you can see the implications of his sculpted v-line.

"How did you know?" Leon hums and you blush furiously as if that persistent heat could burn any hotter.

You turn your face away, unable to hold eye contact without getting flustered all over again. "Take it off before I do it for you, asshole."

"Would you?" He croons and you hide your face in your hands from the embarrassment of his unspoken words. "You're so cute when you're embarrassed, sweetheart."

It doesn't feel like you're adults right now, but rather two stupid teens getting up to something they shouldn't and acting like they were grown ups. It doesn't help the fact that you've had a playground rivalry for who knows how long, something so childish that you can't believe you'd let your icy emotions get the better of you for all those years. You can't help but wonder if this is something you could have had if you hadn't been so blind-eyed by the J.I.E.

You feel the mattress shift beneath you and you pull your hands away from your eyes just in time to see Leon throw his discarded boxers somewhere else in the room, but it doesn't take long for your eyes to trail down. Leon's cock stands stiffly at attention, already leaking precum from the angry red tip that he hadn't even touched yet. Your mouth waters, and your hand twitches to wrap around it though you haven't had this experience for maybe over a decade.

"See something you want?" He teases, though the words barely reach your ears as he climbs back to hover over you.

You're crazy, and you know it by the way the words fall from your lips without a second thought. "Yeah. Was it from just…?"

His cockiness fades for a moment and his eyes soften, a genuine smile spreading across his features and lighting up his already-flushed face. "You're incredibly sexy when you're enjoying yourself, princess." You startle, and he laughs lowly, pecking your cheek. "Liked that one, huh?"

Leon kisses you deeply and you moan upon tasting yourself on his tongue as he feels up your torso and wipes a thumb over your breast. Blindly, you feel down his stomach, appreciating the definition of his well-deserved abs, and finally get a shaking hand around his dick. The action elicits a rich groan from him, even though you've barely even touched him.

You slide your thumb across his slit, beading wetness sliding down your palm and providing the moisture you needed to stimulate him just right. Your motions aren't smooth by any means, and Leon can probably tell that you're not used to this, but he must be getting something out of it by the way his mouth drops open and his eyes screw shut with that beautiful blush spreading across his skin like wildfire.

"Careful," he warns, but it ends with a guttural moan when your fingers brush delicately across his balls. "Shit, you're gonna make me go insane."

"It's payback, baby," you simper, groaning when he runs a finger up your folds in punishment. In revenge, you pump your hand a little faster around his length and you can feel the throbbing veins pushing into your palm.

Leon pulls your wrist away, and you go to protest, wanting to give him more like he'd given you, but he shakes his head and cuts you off with a well-meaning kiss. "We'll do that another time, doll. Right now, it's about you."

"But-"

"C'mon," he cradles your face so gently that the words die on your tongue. "Trust me, sweetheart. I'm right here–I'm not going anywhere. Not not, not ever."

His words cause your emotions to soar, tears leaking vulnerably from your lashes and he wipes them away gently with the pads of his thumbs. Nobody ever stays like he promises and the threat of him breaking that vow hangs precariously in your mind on whether you'll truly take it to heart or not. All around you is him, hands on your body and voice floating richly in your ears. Could you have this again and again? Would he stay long enough to let you?

"Don't leave," you beg pathetically, looking up at him through shamefully teary eyes. "Just don't go."

"I promise," his forehead presses against yours as he whispers vows under the cover of this private moment with just the two of you. "I promise."

You lock your legs around his waist and pull him downward so that his cock taps impatiently against your stomach and Leon quickly gets the hint as he reaches down to pump himself a couple times in preparation. He kisses you deeply, passionately, as he lines up with your entrance and the weight of anticipation causes all the blood to rush to your head. He grinds for an agonizing moment, dick sliding between your folds tantalizingly slow before he finally gives in.

The head of his cock presses into your cunt and your mouth drops open, skin flushing as you pull him closer to get your lips on his to muffle the desperate sounds you make as he sinks inch by agonizing inch into you. Your thoughts scatter until nothing but Leon fills them and your heart beats marathons in your chest.

Your hands find his broad shoulders, hanging on for dear life as he pushes further into you as you adjust to feeling him inside of you. It's been literal years since you've last had sex and though you'd never expected it to be with Leon, it feels a lot more sentimental and pleasurable than the affairs you'd had with past partners.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good," Leon groans out, rolling his hips so that he bottoms out and the euphoria washes over you so deliciously that your eyes roll into the back of your head.

"Le–on," his name falls brokenly from your lips, head spinning as you glance down and spot the outline of him bulging from your skin.

Leon's forearms land on either side of your head, his nose bumping yours as his lidded eyes search yours. "Say it again. Say my name again, sweet thing."

Fucking hell, his nicknames were going to be the death of you.

"Leon–" you cry out when he sharply thrusts once, twice, then slowly begins setting a pace that has you seeing stars. As he adjusts to being inside of you, his speed increases in increments. You allow yourself to be loud, because right now, you could care less about dignity when Leon was just getting started.

His hips slam against you harshly, and he has you almost screaming when you can feel your plush walls hugging every vein and definition of his cock that he drags through you sweetly. His balls clap noisily against your skin and just the sound of it alone was enough to get you high and ever so closer to that sweet release. Leon's lips land on yours, kissing you roughly and the euphoria you were gifted from him abusing your hole was enough to keep you on cloud nine for at least a week.

"Do you know how much I thought of this?" Leon grunts out, moving down so he can kiss the skin behind your ear affectionately. "Getting to fuck you so good that you don't remember anything but my name?"

His words make you whine and writhe beneath him until his hands hold your hips down so he can continue jackhammering into you at that relentless pace. You can feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix bruisingly and the fact that he's so deep inside of you is enough to leave you absolutely dripping.

"Leon–fuck, fuck!" You cry out as he folds one of your legs up and settles your knee into the crook of his elbow, using that leverage to fuck your sweet cunt even harder.

"All mine," he mumbles, pussy drunk and caught in a brain fog. "So fucking beautiful and all for me, yeah?"

You barely manage to hum out an affirmation but the torturous pleasure he subjects you to makes it sound borderline pornographic. Your thoughts scatter in the wind and only leave you enough sense to rack your fingers through his hair as he rocks his cock in and out of your hole, addicted to the feeling as you lose yourselves within each other.

Higher and higher Leon takes you, licking up the column of your throat and biting hickeys into the skin of your neck as if to mark you as his. The pleasure burns brightly, a traveling firework climbing up to the sky in hope of exploding outward. This sensation–something you've never had before–is what makes you obsessed and afraid to ever let go. All those years that people came into your life and left without prompting is negated by the fact that he's stayed.

Leon stretches you into a full-on mating press, your knees kissing your chest as he fucks you deeper than before. You sob brokenly, clasping your arms around his neck and holding on for dear life as he pistons his hips harder into your dripping heat. The weight of him on your body as he works you both up to your heights drives you crazy and you can feel all that tension building up–that firework ready to burst.

"You know how pretty you looked?" He grunts out, working his thrusts as if he could go any deeper than he already was and you squeak as he gives your tit a slap. "All dolled up and wearing that pretty little dress I picked out for you? Fuck, I was so close to taking you that night."

"Leon," you whimper as those clear blue eyes bore into yours, hooded with lust and swirling with more emotion and passion than you've ever seen before. "Shit, if that's what you really think, why didn't you do this sooner?"

"Do what, sweet thing? Fuck this pretty pussy 'til I was rearranging your guts?"

You whine submissively at his words, tugging him closer, and hiding your face in his neck. His cock ploughs into your shopping heat, fucking you like the two of you are animals. Leon swallows your gasp, tongue lolling out to beg for air until he captures your mouth and steals all the breath from your lungs. His tongue wrestles your one into submission before pulling back, a trail of saliva connecting your moist lips.

"I wanted to," he admits vulnerably, "so many times we were alone–wanted to bring you to a quiet little place where we could forget about the missions and rivalries and show you what you were missing.."

You weren't going to last long if he kept revealing secrets like this was some sort of steamy confessional.

"I thought you hated me," you gasp, keening when his pace slows and begins favoring hitting you deep and hard over speed. Your eyes roll upward before squeezing shut and just revealing the feeling of him all around you in the best case of sensory overload. "I thought you wanted me dead where I stood."

He tilts your chin up, rutting deep into you that makes you see stars. "That cocky little girl who was unkillable, maybe. But, you showed yourself to me and there you were."

"But, you-"

"I didn't want to scare you off," he sighs, something soft that contradicts the way he's still balls deep inside you. "I was ready to kill you when you landed on my doorstep at that shitty motel, but…I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t lose you."

There's a gap where he trails off, looking into your eyes as you realize that all while you scorned him and loved him, he was going through the same tortuous emotions as you. Those encounters, shooting bullets in each other's directions and painting scars through wounds was all one-sided. Leon knows you genuinely hated him in a past life as he hated you too, wished he was dead in the same way he was so close to putting a bullet through your skull, and yet he's still here.

"I did hate you." You bury your nose into his neck. "I preyed on your downfall for so many nights and loathed that you kept me alive just to prove a point."

"And now?"

You open your eyes, looking past through tears that have started to prick your lash line. Your chest swells with an emotion you haven't felt in a long while, reigniting flames on a piece of cold coal that hasn't felt the kiss of fire for so long. This feeling that has caused you so much conflict before has a name on your heart, your mind, then your tongue.

"Now?" You reach up, brushing bangs away from his moist forehead, and bring him closer like you were telling him a secret. Your lips ghost over his as you answer. "Fuck, I love you, Leon."

That declaration seems to be the breaking point as he squishes you between his body and mattress, sinking his weight onto you as he desperately begins pounding you into the bedsheets. You moan loudly, unbidden as you relish in the feeling of Leon and trailing your fingernails down his back in angry red lines. The pleasure tips you into overdrive, and you almost scream as you feel yourself just beginning to tip over the edge.

“Leon, I,” you stutter and his hips never break stride, seemingly spurred on by the implication of your words hot and heavy in your ear, “I’m close, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

You choke on your breath as he wedges a hand between your bodies, rubbing furiously at your clit while muffling your sobs with an open-mouthed kiss.

“Cum for me,” he pleads, eyes squeezing shut like you were tormenting him. “Cum on my cock baby, and I’ll cum for you too.”

Your head slams back onto the pillow, gasping and choking for air as you finally crash and that firework explodes outward. Your mind reels as you see white, gushing hotly around Leon who’s still chasing after his own high. You take the overstimulation, tears running freely now as you hold on for dear life he uses you to achieve his own orgasm, his grunts and breathy moans making home inside your memory as the sweetest sounds you’ve ever heard. You call out his name like a chant–a mantra, sweeter than any prayer you’ve ever had to utter.

When he pulls you in his arms, settles his full weight onto you, and kisses you so desperately like you’d disappear the moment he opened his eyes, you know he’s reached it.

Leon rams his hips so that he drives as far as he could into you, cum shooting white hot ropes and painting your walls white. You choke on your own breath as warmth spreads through your body, addicted already to the feeling of his cum spurting inside. You're mesmerized as you watch as his face pinches into something so beautiful and pretty to watch, and you wish you could ingrain the look of him coming undone into your head permanently.

Nothing but hot pants fill the air as he lifts himself from your frame, hands bracketing either side of your head as he pushes himself up to get a good look at you, blissed out on his cock and almost fucked stupid. He brushes fair from your forehead and kisses you lightly in a deep contrast to the way he had nearly bruised your lips as he came.

You shift and he winces, slamming his hands on your hips to hold you still as he stays inside of you.

"Stop," he breathes out as if it pained him.

"Leon? What are you-"

"Fuck–just please, I need–" he gasps, slightly moist forehead coming to rest on yours, "You're so good, baby. Just let me stay like this for a bit–just a second."

Your emotions take a hit as he begs you to stay despite the oversensitivity combating the need to be as close as possible to you. "Alright," you whisper, though a pressing question comes to the forefront of your mind. "Can I ask you something?"

"Hm?"

"Why did…Why’d you kiss me?"

He laughs, all gentle and real right from his stomach and it sends shivers down your spine. You want to draw the sight of his laugh lines into your permanent memory. "Of all the things that just happened, that's what you want to know?"

"Mhm," you affirm, having no strength to try and fight him on the matter. He's left you breathless and tired, and frankly, you just want to know what’s on his mind.

"Well, that's a bit of a stupid question." He nudges your chin up with the crook of his index finger and those blue crystalline eyes catch yours to sweep you off your feet again. "I kissed you because I wanted to, sweetheart.”

You breathe, working on keeping it level as he finally slips out of you, mixed fluids leaking out of your spent cunt upon not being plugged anymore. Leon leans back, admiring his work and laughs to himself. His eyes trail up your body and your gazes connect. You find him looking at you, searching for something like he usually does, but this time, he finally seems he found what he’s looking for.

“Did I let you find it?” you ask tiredly.

“Hm?”

“Back at the cafe,” you explain with exhaustion lacing your voice. Leon gets up, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment, and you hear the sound of running water. When he comes back out, he grabs a water bottle from the fridge that was provided from the hotel and returns to the bedside, running the warm cloth against your oversensitive skin.

“Yeah?” He murmurs to show he’s still listening even as he carefully wipes down the inside of your thighs. “What about it?”

“You said you were looking for something, but I wasn’t letting you find it. Did I do it?”

Leon pauses in his actions, takes a good look at you though you don’t know what’s happening in that complicated head of his. Nonetheless, he smiles and crows feet crinkle his eyes as he leans over to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “You did,” he affirms sweetly, then once he deems you clean enough, he says, “You did good, baby.”

The praise goes straight to your head as you try uprighting yourself, but almost miserably failing before Leon catches you. One of his arms curls around your rigid upper back and the other tucks beneath your knees as he easily lifts you and carries you to the pull-out bed that he’s been sleeping on since you got here. Gently, he deposits you on the mattress with the water bottle before beginning to wipe himself down.

You take gentle sips, watching him as he finishes up and joins you at your side on the bed, sinking down in the much cleaner sheets and tossing the fabric over you. Quickly, you fall into place with your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat and legs intertwined. One of his arms lazily tosses over your waist as he buries his nose into your hair.

Never before has your heart felt so full and alive before, pumping strongly and emotionally just for the man in front of you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, feeling sleep weigh heavily on your mind. “For everything.”

“You make it sound like you’re dying,” he jokes, hand running cautiously up and down your back. You shudder as he feels along every scar with expert care, but you find it's not as bad as you thought it would be. “We still have a long way ahead of us.”

“We do,” you agree thoughtfully before hesitating. “Do…you feel the same way I do?”

Leon kisses the crown of your head affectionately, polling you tighter and more securely against him. “Oh, I adore you, sweet girl. You’ve got me at your beck and call, I can promise you that.”

“Okay,” you settle down, finally at peace. “You’ll stay?”

He tilts your head up, making you stare into those blue eyes that have carried you through so many years of torture and conflicted love. Leon Kennedy, this masterpiece of a man weighed down by years of his job who has tried to kill you and in turn survived your attempts to slit his throat wide open loves you. Even when you hated him, you couldn’t stay away as if the stars and the universe had destined for you to always be connected.

Maybe this is what it means to be in love–to be devoted to someone that you need then like you need the air to breathe.

“I promise,” Leon says, sleep edging on his voice warmly but still persisting to lay your fears to rest. “You’ll have to kill me to stay away from you, (Y/n). I’m yours, whenever and wherever you need, no matter the time of day. I’m staying for you because I love you.”

What a strange thing it is to be in love. But, perhaps in this moment, where you feel so incredibly warm and rich like a healthy fire with plenty of fuel to go on forever, you decide it’s not so bad.

No longer does your heart stay frozen and bitter from years of misuse, but who would’ve guessed that the man who you swore to hate for the rest of your days would be the one to finally melt it down into a blazing fire of emotion?

Far away, miles away from you and Leon, the blizzard that had forced you under the same roof all those weeks ago dissipates, finally satisfied.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon scott kennedy #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil leon #resident evil fic #resident evil x you #leon kennedy fanfic

343 notes · View notes

frankenfran · 4 months ago

Note

How are you so pretty, mom?

i know this is a flattering rhetorical question compliment but to answer honestly it's all about confidence! i mean looks definitely get you really far in this world don't get it twisted. people are shallow and the most mid skinny girl with a bad personality is inherently going to get better treatment because that's just how it works but! if you know yourself and own it then that's more than half of the battle. the charm of a confident and boisterous fat woman is undeniable... unless you're one of those weird insecure people ive encountered who feel threatened by that and assume you're like. coming on to them by simply being nice and outgoing while fat. lol

anyway the other side of it is that i put a lot of effort into my appearance. ive been out and presenting as "female" since i was a teen so ive had a lot of time to figure out what works and what doesn't even with how much ive changed along the way. lots of trial and error and a rather fortuitous lifelong obsession with dress up and designing outfits and stuff (thank you doll games and gaia and fruits magazine and any game that allowed me to customise my character lol)

part of that is knowing yourself and your body. im shaped like toriel or audino so certain things look more flattering on me, which tends to be comfier maternal type stuff (chicken and egg situation) and i already gravitated more towards comfortable and flowy outfits to begin with so it works out. im still a proponent dressing however you want forever because that tends to be what makes you the most happy and confident anyway!

im also very selective about my selfies or photos of me in general. for every perfect booby selfie that makes me feel sexy there's like 50 candid photos of me that make me feel uh. not so very good about myself lmfao. i think photos are inherently limiting and can never capture the fullness of a person quite like seeing them in motion but they're quite good for projecting how you see yourself.

uhhh estrogen also helps highly highly recommend that to everyone no exceptions. getting to know yourself and eventually getting comfortable with yourself and hopefully even loving yourself is a neverending process. some days you'll feel like the ugliest person on earth even after a shower and grooming and other days you'll wake up after not showering for 2 days with messy hair and wrinkled clothes and think "wow i look really pretty today". life is funny that way! this ended up really long and rambling so ill end it here but thank you for letting this old lady ramble. it's community service to let old ladies talk about whatever BS until they get tired lol

14 notes · View notes

dy6nsty · 9 months ago

Text

Posion Tree.

{Mountain Ghoul x GN! Reader} /// mentions of anger issues, burn out, depression, self harm, reader goin through it ngl, reader has a slight fear of touch[?], fluff & comfort, somewhat vent post. Enjoy :)

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You were unsure with how this all started. You loved the job and the church, doing ministry work. But suddenly, it all stopped. You didn’t feel the same afterwards.

Your hard work began to feel like pressure. All you could think of was how and why. Why can’t you suddenly work like you used to? Why is it that your stomach feels hollow, pools of guilt swirling through your gut with seconds that dropped from the clock. It all felt like hours, your life feeling endless and exasperating as you terribly carried yourself through.

Eye-bags, acne, smile lines, it all became too noticeable. Staring at the mirror endlessly in your uniform as you craved touch and sensation yet were so deeply afraid of it.

When was the last time you felt pretty?

The last time you ever felt excited.

You can’t even recall the last time you felt fulfilled.

You simply weren’t doing this for yourself any longer. This work, this effort, the time you had, it all went for others that a good portion don’t even recognize. There was praise every now and than, and it felt so good. But you always remembered that this work may not even pay off later.

How you try so hard to make a schedule? But it never works, does it?

Back to the start;

You wake up.

Slide out of the bed even to your minds dismay and shrieking of thoughts.

Your robes. You slide them on with slow movement, staring down at your body.

Your fingertips brush over scars that align your skin. They aren’t pretty you think to yourself.

Yet, you know why they’re there. Because no one would listen to you. Where times were rough our you couldn’t comprehend. When your hands would shake as you cried through nights with no moon nor stars, darkening clouds that clutter the sky.

Right. You put your uniform on.

You walk to your rooms bathroom. Staring down at your form—mainly your face. Sluggish, it looks.

Your hands come up to touch it. You can feel the bumps and indents of acne scars, blackheads, and all the clutters your pores and more. You let out an audible ‘eugh’, as you run a finger over your eyebags. They droop down and darken your face, you hate them but love them, it’s hard to explain.

You don’t feel like brushing your teeth. You should. But you can’t pull yourself to do it.

Your hair? What do you do with it. Nothing. You let it sit and be tangled if it even wants.

No one will compliment you so what is your point to trying?

With groggy pace you walk out of your bathroom and out into the halls of ministry. No makeup, no skincare, not even breakfast. You just want this day to end so you can sleep.

It feels like everything upsets you in the morning. The voice of constant chatter and orders are just annoying. They play into everything that could just piss you off.

But those voices still belong to humans.

But, it never feels like it.

Eventually the day has to begin, you’re entitled to do this. What is your choice now since you chose to do this, there’s no arguing with it or yourself.

Planting flowers, raking leaves, moving boxes, doing prayers and chants, being yelled at, sweat clinging to your body, eyelids heavy with the heat that grows, settling things for altars, shifting paintings, rushing down hallways, conversations, ease-dropping, drawing and renewing paint, gifting jewelry to podiums, working from indoors to outdoors, and feeling tired.

This was everything you could’ve dreamed off, right? You’re being sarcastic with yourself.

You’re so caught up in everything you have you pay no mind to what’s around you, who’s around you. Mountain, the people you work with, even yourself you’ve almost forgotten.

All you can remember is that feeling on your arms, how tired you are, the exhaustion you’ve been feeling since 6AM, but you weren’t selfish for it.

There was just.. no alone time left for you now. You didn’t even bother to call in sick.

You work yourself off since you want a purpose.

As the sun sets and the ombré in the sky begins to stir with its purples and oranges that ranges to yellow, you’re finally free to head back to your room.

It’s scattered in trash, atleast thats how you feel.

By the time you’re in that room your hands are on the collar of your uniforms upper garment.

You backup to feel your back pressed up against something.

You quickly turn around–flinching, but it’s only Mountain. Looking down at you with his gentle eyes.

His mask is off, so it’s less intimidating to say the least. His height still makes you uneasy but you’ve learned to love it.

“Dear G….” Read the room. “What brings you hear, Mountain?” You practically sighed out with just had the Ghouls face melting more as his tail flopped against the floor.

“Whats been happening? Has papa been having you work more? It’s been weeks since i’ve seen you.” Mountain said with a desperate plea in his voice.

Your mind saddened up with this as the cherry on top being guilt, finally toppled onto your mindset.

You bit down on your tongue and held it back. How could you be so positive that you could just–entrust–him with this information? The fear of being mocked grew into your head.

“Busy…” You mumbled, piping up to look at him. “Busy, i’ve been busy, Mountain. Plus, I just wanted to help around.” You said as a calm smile rested onto your face even if you were stressed to hell.

“Busy?” Mountain repeated with suspicion.

“You don’t look calm- Y/N- don’t you want to talk?-“

“I am calm.” You snapped before sighing. Everything was just too hot and talking with him made your head ache.

“Y/N, please.” Mountain said with a frown on his face. Dammit. You thought to yourself.

“What, what do you want?” You asked with irritation but Mountain’s look didn’t falter. “Why have you been avoiding me?” He asked.

“I’ve just–“ You paused.

“I really don’t know.” You murmured gently, head hanging low and arms limp by your side.

Mountain’s hands gently cupped the sides of your face, stroking his thumb against your cheek before kissing the temple of your forehead.

“C’mon, lavender, let’s get you cleaned up?” He offered. His smile was dumb… but you loved it.

His hands went underneath your armpits and on your ribs, the subtle twitch of his hand made him pull away.

“No touching, got it.” He made a mental note, aloud.

You nodded, eyes softening down to be content. You adored how he could read it so well, even though he could practically smell sadness from you.

“Bath?” He asked gently. The soft nod of your head was all he needed.

Now that you thought of it. Lavender was the plant that was popular for its tranquility and how it soothed people. You somewhat like the nickname. But you wouldn’t tell him that.

Before you knew it you were in the bath tub, as it filled up almost to the top of Mountain wasn’t quick to turn it off.

His clawed hands combing through your hair, shampoo foam building up into tufts. It felt nice. This felt rewarding.

Mountain had no words to say, he was quiet and allowed the silence to build within the room.

Conditioning your was—surpassingly easy. You thought with all its texture and its knot it would take ages but with Mountain combing through it, it was only a minute.

With a towel wrapped around you, smelling like his body wash, he fluffed your hair up with a smaller towel, as you dried yourself off.

He had gone through your drawers to find something comfortable, even if the clothes you had been sulking in for days on end were comfy, he wouldn’t allow it. He wanted you to feel clean.

It only made you feel better when he had nothing to say about the scars on your body.

Dressed in a t-shirt and shorts that were both loose you felt uncomfortable mentally but comfortable physically.

Maybe too much was showing.

“Look at you, pretty!” Mountain said happily, appearing behind you in the mirror. A small smile cracked onto your lips.

With the pitter-patter of rain on your bedroom windows, you felt relaxed. Mountain was trying to help you with washing your face, brushing your teeth, and he applied vaseline to your lips. It was nice. They didn’t feel so rough anymore.

You finally felt… clean.

That hollow and vast void that had been living in your gut finally felt gone!

That tingling on your arms and thighs had vanished, your mind wasn’t focused on the past.

Mountain walked your back to your bed and layed down with you. Your back pressed up against his chest as his finger curled through your hair.

“Now…” He mumbled, his tone making you uneasy, “can you talk to me?” He said quietly.

That pit. You could feel it forming.

“I…”

“Please.” Mountain insisted.

Your mouth stayed pursed shut as you could feel your throat run dry.

“I’ve been tired, lately, always, really.” I started off slow and steady to see how he’d react. He nodded along.

“I know I don’t work.. really-“ “You work plenty, Y/N.” He cut you off, apologizing after to let you continue.

“But i’ve felt tired. So exhausted. My body is tense with every muscle and movement, my skin is so rough to the touch, eye-bags and wrinkles just litter my face. And.. I know it’s not healthy but I just want to do it again. My scars are ugly, I know that, anyone could know that. But.. sometimes I wish I didn’t quit-even though that’s wrong and it was the better situation. And- every noise.. it makes me become intolerable. I know i’m being dramatic but when there’s so much going on I just want to break something but i’m to afraid to express that, I’ll feel guilty, and than I yell at someone, knowingly that i’ll regret it later on.” You ranted and rambled on, your breathing was so slow yet so shallow with every word you formed.

“What do you do when you get- or feel angry, Y/N?” Mountain asked quietly, leaning forward to hear you.

“Nothing..” You mumbled meekly.

“And your scars?” He continued.

“They disgust me. I don’t understand why I would do this! I look at them all day, they shape my skin and I feel them constantly!” You replied frustrated.

“I like them,” He whispered in a hushed voice, “you made it through a time where you barley survived. You were struggling and no one would listen. I like your scars because they tell me you’re strong, that you carried on. And that you’re here with me now.”

Corny…. but sweet.

“What about how i’ve been feeling lately? I’m just dramatic.” You murmured into yours hands as they covered your face.

Mountain frowned slightly.

“Dramatic? You work, you have to get down and run all over the damn place. Waking up before the sun and making it home what feels like a day later. Plus, the ministry is hard enough. You should be resting, not pushing yourself further.” Mountain said with a gentle and calm voice that made the knots in your back relax.

“But what does that make me.” You murmured. “It makes you better, mentally and physically. You wouldn’t be titled as weak because you wanted to focus on yourself, it’s something we all need.” Mountain replied, he was coming back with these in seconds, Jesus Christ.

His hand gently traced out the scar on your wrist, laid right under your thumb. You leaned into his chest, the exhaustion and insomnia catching up to you.

“Sleep, please.” He murmured gently, his fingertips pushing back your hair as your eyes felt warm with sleep.

The feeling in your chest, you knew sleep was there. Slowly falling into its embrace as Mountain gently kissed up and down your arms, his hands gently moving them up and down.

You couldn’t describe it. But it felt nice.

“Sleep, lavender.”

Corny.

A smile complete your face as your head hit the pillow. Mountain’s arms wrapped around you.

“What about papa?” You asked before Mountain shushed you.

“This is worth it than whatever he has to say to me tomorrow.” You would’ve tried to reason with him.

But. The room was quiet and slightly cold, sheets finally felt right. You finally felt right.

Your eyes met with onyx black, finally asleep. Better than anything.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

5:32AM , 3/31/24 ///

Author here, I really want to say that i’ve lacked posting. But i’m glad to finally be righting as I truly love it. Recently i’ve been feeling sick of it and tried to force myself into it which is something I regret. But i’ve been feeling better :)

#dy6 #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #mountain x reader #mountain ghoul #mountain ghost #mountain ghoul x reader #gn reader #comfort #sad writing #?#mental heath awareness #mental health

24 notes · View notes

slavicviking · 2 years ago

Text

Steve wakes up to a heart-shaped box on his doorstep.

He only narrowly misses it, too, almost stepping into it on his way to the mailbox. It’s obnoxiously sparkling red but doesn’t match the ones everyone in Hawkins has been assaulted with at every shop for the last week or so. No, this one looks hand-made, strips of red paper peeling off at the sides. It sports a makeshift bow, too, carefully wrapped around the box. There is no name attatched to it, at least none that he can see, but there’s a ‘Happy Valentine’s’ scrawled on the top in a handwriting Steve doesn’t recognize.

His first instinct is to pick it up and see what’s inside but then every existing alarm bell in his head starts ringing at the same time. He promptly takes a step back, heels hitting the first step up to the porch. Stays there.

There is no one in particular that comes to mind as to who could leave this for him. He hasn’t been on a date in months, a fact that Robin likes to point out too much for his liking. He doesn’t think any of the girls he has gone out with would have any lingering feelings at all, not that they seem like the type to handcraft a box themselves anyway. And the one person he would like to receive a gift from hates Valentine’s Day with a passion.

“It’s literally a marketing scheme so you spend all your money on useless shit,” Eddie told him last week before dipping his pizza in ranch dressing which is objectively disgusting. He’s a strange dude. Steve wants to kiss him senseless.

But - the box.

It was one of the many summer barbeques at Hopper’s that Joyce did a retelling of hers and Murray’s fun little trip to the Soviet Union and though Steve’s memory of that evening is hazy at best, he does remember them mentioning a strange package. It’s been a threat that existed at the back of his mind since Starcourt. Those people are relentless, persistent, they don’t forget. And they - Steve and Robin and the kids - they got out and know too much.

Eyes on the box, Steve makes his way back into the house and grabs at the walkie.

“Henderson, we might have a problem.”

-&-

Eddie has a plan.

It’s a pretty ambitious one, according to Gareth at least, but Eddie tries to stay a positive thinker - so unlike him, he can admit that, but after you face literal monsters from a hellish dimension, certain very-human things like crushes and the like seem less scary. Who knew it would only take almost dying by the likes of demonic bats for him to find more confidence to pursue a love interest.

A Steve Harrington-shaped love interest at that.

Nancy and Robin insist, though, that he does have a chance and his flirting attempts have been reciprocated so far, so maybe they do have a point. He hopes so, at least.

The first step of the plan, admittedly, does not scream ‘confidence’ but Eddie’s a careful guy, or he is when it comes to these matters at least. Navigating social queues has never been his strong suit, not really, but with Steve - it’s easy. Comfortable. Still, he’s laying the groundwork first, starts simple enough - anonymously, too, though not without effort put into it. Wayne can attest, what with the bits of glue and red glitter still making appearances in various places in the trailer.

What Eddie expects, hopefully, is Steve being maybe enamored with the gift, curious about the secret admirer. And then - then follows a passionate confession and a happy ending.

What Eddie doesn’t expect is an unkown car and a couple of bikes parked in the Harrington driveway by the time he gets there. Stepping out of his van, he’s ambushed by voices he recognizes all too well screaming over each other in the backyard, it seems. And, just as he predicted, by the Harrington infamous pool there is Dustin and Mike and Max, there is Steve and Robin, and some guy - and they’re all wearing goggles, hands shoved into protective gloves-

“What the fuck.”

“Stay where you are boy, this is serious business,” the stranger tells him, hands tightening around the rope he’s holding. There’s a whole wild construction they conjured up, the rope sliding over some branches of a maple tree, a bucket of paint holding onto its opposite end. Directly in the line of where it would eventually fall lays a familiar box.

“My chocolate?”

“Oh, for the love of-” the man groans, pointing a finger in Eddie’s general direction, eyes narrowed behind wide-framed glasses. “Are you, or are you not, an enemy of the people?”

“Murray-!”

“No?” Eddie squeaks out before clearing his throat. “No, uh, definitely not. An enemy.”

“It’s from you?” Steve steps out from behind the wall of deck chairs, as do the kids and Robin. He looks silly yet still adorable with the snorkeling goggles covering half of his face. Even as he rips it off, red markings remain around his eyes and nose. Eddie thinks he’s never looked prettier. He nods.

“But I thought you hated Valentine’s- wait, does that mean?”

“I wouldn’t hate it with you-”

“I didn’t sign up for another one of these,” Murray butts in from behind them, slowly releasing the rope so it doesn’t damage the acquitted suspect, though it does look like he would very much like to smash it to pieces. “C’mon, kids, the fun is over.”

“But-”

“Steve-”

“That’s so lame-”

“Goodbye,” Murray says through clenched teeth, pushing the kids towards the exit, Robin giving the pair a very unsubtle thumbs up from behind him. He pauses to stare at Eddie and Steve. “Just kiss already, save us the drama. Can’t believe I missed Growing Pains for this.”

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things

223 notes · View notes

howyouloveyourdragon · 2 years ago

Note

Hello. If you are taking requests, can you write to yandere husbands Gellert Grindelwald, Albus Dumbledore, Aberforth Dumbledore, Percival Graves, Severus Snape?

hi anon! thank you for the request, i hope you like it

i won't write great about the fantastic beasts characters because it's been a long time since i've seen it but i tried my best, i hope you enjoy! :)

Gellert Grindelwald

i feel like this man is possessive as hell

more of an isolating and protective yandere

he doesn't want anyone pressing a finger to any hair on your pretty little head

above all else he is driven and charismatic so after his obsession develops, he will immediately sneak in there and manipulate you

but he also wants you to depend on him, that way you will never leave

he wants to make you his whether or not you know it

he fills and indoctrinates you into think all muggles and wizards supporting them want to hurt you, that he's only trying to protect you because you're so special

he almost wants to curse you for gripping his heart so tightly, for controlling him without even knowing it

he has few qualms about killing in front of you but he'll try not to, just not very hard

when it comes to the wedding, he might try and convince you by inventing a false prophecy that if you don't he'll die

you wouldn't want to hurt him so, will you?

he doesn't like physically telling you how much he loves you, instead he'll say things like "We belong together." or "You're very special to me."

he does make an effort to keep you protected and feeling secure

and he doesn't like other people talking to you too much

if you also had a deep connection with Dumbledore then Grindelwald would make sure to server that tie, whispering lies about him wanting to betray or hurt you

as far as kids go I think he would them to keep his lock on you and to further his line but I'm not sure how deeply he would care for them

if any of them favoured your features however I think he would grow especially fond of those children in particular and teach their sibling to hold them in higher esteem

i think he would grow quite clingy over you, always keeping you on his arm when it's safe

Albus Dumbledore

this man already has a mischievous spirit and high charismatic presence so i feel like he could get you to trust him easily enough

after that he puts in all the works, fixating on you being in his life and drawing away for just long enough to keep you longing and missing him

he wants you to want him too, unlike some of the other yanderes who don't care so much about making your relationship real, he needs it

he would give you gifts in forms of sweets particularly so you associate them with him

he will insert himself into the most intimate parts of your life so you can't escape him

he doesn't want another lover to let him down like Gellert did so he manipulates what you can and can't do whether that be your friend suddenly avoiding you or you start feeling mysteriously ill out of nowhere

as a husband he is attentive and will likely bring you to live at hogwarts by his side, never leaving his sight

he doesn't lock you away though, he doesn't need to when he has you safely among the school

how much trouble can you get up to under his watchful eye?

he gets a certain thrill when there is danger about and you crawl into his protective hold

if you start teaching he will encourage it in fact, liking the way you integrate your lives together

as far as children goes he doesn't really want them, your always surrounded by them and watching grow, if you really want one then he won't mind you giving some extra support to some of the kids or being particularly parental but other than that he's not fussed

he is a regretful man and so i think he also makes a point to make sure none of those regrets include you even if his antics get quite obsessive, giving you flowers almost everyday and smothering you with affection as soon as he wakes up even if you're still asleep

if you ever died he would want to go with you and enjoy "the next great adventure" by your side

he doesn't intend to live without you

Aberforth Dumbledore,

in his school years that instead of negotiating, he preferred to settle things by duelling and combat

therefore i imagine he would approach this in a similar way

unlike his brother, he does not dedicate himself to winning your affection or charming you, he may very well attempt at developing a love potion or just take you away

he was not above using underhanded tactics against his foes and you would see this in how he interacts with you, for example he might use polyjuice potion to gain your trust in someone you are close with's body

he doesn't care how he gets you, just that he does get you

i think he could very well be a punishing yandere if you do not give in to him

as for the wedding i think he would want a small ceremony if any at all

potentially could use influencing spells such as the imperius curse if he won't get caught

i could see him wanting you to have a daughter with him so he could name her Ariana to honour his sister

whether or not you are a wizard/witch yourself, he is far more powerful than any other and he knows it

legilimency is frequent in your relationship, he doesn't see much point in asking you something if he can just know it already and the more he finds out the harder he falls, your thoughts infiltrating his brain is what fed his attraction to you in the first place

he will hold a grudge if you try to escape and will make the effort to make sure you watch while tied up as he blocks off every possible exit you could make

eventually his trust will be earned back but it might take a year or longer

Percival Graves

this one was a bit trickier because out of everyone i know the least about him but i think he would be a calculative yandere...precise

he is ambitious and serious

he does care about what you want and is willing to develop a romantic or platonic arrangement but he will always see you as his

if you're not married to him then you won't be married to anyone at all

he will trick people carrying romantic interest to you with rumours and lies about you until you come crying to him, he likes to comfort you and will do whatever it takes to feel your warm body in his arms

he will consistently take you to work events and slowly make you dependent and close with people connected to him and only him

he doesn't mind how long it takes until you get to the point where you accept his advances, he can wait

all because he knows it's necessary and once you are together then he will never have to work so diligently for it ever again

the wedding will seep of extravagance and he will keep the ceremony intimate

this is for you and him, no one else

he doesn't particularly care if people try and convince you to leave him, he dispels any of your worries by telling you they are poisoning your mind

he knows them better than you do, he assures, listen to him and no one else

he won't be a very bloody yandere i don't think

he's got too much at stake and he knows that if you ever found out about it then everything would be over

i don't know whether or not he would care for children, i think he would prefer to keep a small family

Severus Snape

this man has already lost one woman he believed himself to be in love with, he doesn't want to lose another one

and if anyone takes away the person he is infatuated with then there will be hell to pay

he has the dark lord on his side now but he is also a skilled potions master, if someone gets to close to you he can easily slip an extra helping into their cup or food of something less...appetising

enough to maim them seriously, maybe in an indistinguishable way

he will only resort to murder as a last stitch attempt

he can't lose you, he refuses to

he won't propose, he knows he won't accept no as an answer anyway and will force an agreement, perhaps threatening those you care about so he can keep you

as far as archetypes go i think he would be on the eliminating side of things

Lily chose James over him and so he simply won't give a choice this time

doesn't have the energy for such things

he doesn't have time for it and he's not lenient either

surprisingly he's not too possessive, he will keep a keen eye on the friends you choose but won't hurt them if he thinks he can trust them enough

he's not particularly fond of children so i don't think he would push the subject but if you wanted them i could see him begrudgingly complying

when he sees harry he is still furiously raging at the sight but it will be subdued if you have children of your own

i could see him locking you away once the war is started no matter what side he is on

Voldemort killed Lily, he will have no problem kill you too if you're on the side of the order

whichever side of the war you are on, so will he

#yandere Gellert Grindelwald #yandere Albus Dumbledore #yandere Aberforth Dumbledore #yandere Percival Graves #yandere Severus Snape #yandere headcanons #yandere husband headcanons #yandere husband hcs #yandere husband Gellert Grindelwald headcanons #yandere husband Albus Dumbledore headcanons #yandere husband Aberforth Dumbledore headcanons #yandere husband Percival Graves headcanons #yandere husband Severus Snape headcanons #yandere Albus Dumbledore headcanons #yandere Aberforth Dumbledore headcanons #yandere Percival Graves headcanons #yandere Severus Snape headcanons #yandere gellert grindelwald headcanons

225 notes · View notes

satancopilotsmytardis · 1 year ago

Note

Gonna put forth "are you sure about this?" with ShigaDabiHawks.

Prompt: "Are you sure about this?"

Dabi hasn't had a lot of choices in his life. Or at least it's never felt like he's had a lot. Born for his father's ambition, raised until he broke to be a hero, and then left with the only choice of being discarded or pushing hard enough to make his father see that he was really worth something. Left with the choice of dying or becoming a villain. Every choice after that was whether or not he would survive. Has always chosen to survive, at least until he can make it to his goal. But those aren't complex choices, aren't things that really propose any real dichotomy because one will always be more correct than the other until he finally finished off Endeavor.

More complex choices started coming around once he joined up with the League of Villains. When things started popping up like, will he let them eat trash when there's a fully stocked kitchen because he doesn't need to expose any part of his past to them or will he make them dinner. Will he just leave the food for them on the counter so he doesn't have to see them eat or let them know him, or will he sit down on whatever surface he can claim in the bar and eat, and talk, and laugh with the rest. He thought those were harder choices, but in hindsight he's pretty sure that he'd never really had one in the first place. Not when his loneliness had been sitting so heavily in his chest for so long and even just the tentative thought of companionship had him putting in as much effort as he could to make sure that the goals of the League were seen too as completely as his own. Didn't seem like a choice when Duster started giving him more responsibility in the wake of his dedication. Didn't seem like a choice to decide to take that responsibility and do the best he can with it. But he hasn't ever resented that lack of choice. Hasn't been bothered. Easier to know he's going down the right path when the wrong one is so blatant in his periphery.

A lot harder right now when he doesn't know which choice to make, when he can't tell which one is the obvious wrong choice. Thinks that sleeping with his boss who could kill him with one careless touch is probably the wrong one. But it's hard to believe that when Duster's got a hand curved just above the staples on his thigh, another pushing careful fingers under the hem of his shirt, mouth on his, licking and nipping at his lips. When Dabi's skin is going quirk-hot with his arousal as he tangles a hand into his hair and the other is fisted in the back of his shirt as if he could pull the other man any closer. Pinned up against the hallway wall, halfway between their rooms. Hasn't chosen if he's going to pull away, go back to his room, and pretend this never happened or if he's going to let Shigaraki press him into his mattress and fuck him until he sees stars. Thinks he could because Dabi can't even remember the last time a kiss left him so breathless.

Duster's mouth leaves his, nipping along his jaw and down his throat and Dabi is trying desperately to swallow down a whine. Most people don't want to touch his scars, most of the time he's fine with that too. Most of the time he takes control because it's easier when his partners aren't asking him what they can and can't do to avoid him coming apart at the seams. But Shigaraki doesn't even blink, doesn't ask. Doesn't wait for him to choose right now. Not when he seems perfectly comfortable with taking control here, when he clearly knows exactly what he wants while Dabi is feeling completely unmoored and overwhelmed by the pull of heat between them and the knowledge that sleeping with your boss is always a bad idea. Blunt teeth are trailing lower and lower, find the place over his collarbone where healthy skin is forcibly attached to scars and he catches one of his staples between his teeth and pulls gently. Can't help it this time, can't swallow the moan fast enough at that little tug. Has him pulling on Duster more urgently. Has Duster flicking his tongue over that staple before moving to kiss him again as he pulls him away from the wall. Makes the choice for him as he pulls him towards his bedroom. Okay. Easier to go. Wants to go. Knows it's probably the wrong choice to make.

Doesn't feel wrong as Shig gets him into his room, kicks the door shut as he pushes Dabi towards his bed. He shrugs out of his coat and then has his hands on the hem of Duster's shirt. Isn't stopped as he pulls it off. Only gets a split second to be surprised by the lean muscle he finds underneath it before Shigaraki is kissing him again, backing him towards the bed. Dabi feels it hit the back of his legs and surprises himself when he tenses slightly. When this all goes from reckless and needy to being very, very real and solid in just a few seconds. Duster's hands go a little softer against his skin, presses another lighter kiss to his lips before he pulls back enough to level him with searching crimson eyes.

His voice is careful and low when he asks, "Are you sure about this, Dabi?"

Wasn't. Is now. "Come on, boss, don't tell me you're chickening out now. Promise I won't burn you if you don't dust me." Always easier to reach for bravo than anything real. Thinks... thinks based on how much softer those eyes get on him as Duster does push him back onto the bed that he's seen straight through to the real things anyway. Doesn't think he minds them though when he's bound and determined to take him apart by inches now that he has permission.

Doesn't think it's the wrong choice when he makes it again, and again, and again as he decides to stay with the League and Duster decides that they're all his and he's going to take care of them too.

///

But if Dabi thinks he hasn't had many choices in his life, it's only because he's never seen someone who hasn't had any. At least not until he meets Hawks. Meets the number two hero, the HPSC's perfect little spy, and realizes very, very quickly, that he hasn't ever gotten to pick something just for himself, something that he wanted. Or at least hasn't done it in so long that he's completely forgotten what it feels like. That he drinks the coffee that he's supposed to because he was offered a sponsorship for it and his PR people took it without caring that he doesn't like that brand, that he wears designer clothes off the clock that they picked too because they wanted him in those too. That he is personable and cheerful at every moment because that's the persona that the HPSC thought would do best on the billboards and that all of his more animal traits should be muted because those would do worse. That he should come and spy on the League because he's clever and pretty and apparently someone clocked that he and Duster both prefer men so Hawks would be the best choice for the job. And Hawks is very, very pretty. Desperate to be a honeytrap too. Because someone told him to be. Because he's never been given the choice of disobeying.

Dabi picks up on it first. He's Hawks' contact after all. He's the one who spends the most time with the hero and seeing how quickly the hero will do anything he's told makes him a little sick to his stomach. So long as whatever Dabi asks doesn't go against some other invisible order that Hawks has been given, he'll do just about anything. Takes a cigarette whenever he offers even though he can see that Hawks hates the taste and how the smell sinks into his feathers. Will readily agree to any point Dabi makes about the corruption of the system. Dabi goes so far to ask the hero to not have his wings one time they meet up, said they were too noticeable and they were going to meet a little closer to the city than usual, and Hawks had been so tense and nervous. But he did it anyway. Looked like a terrified rabbit the entire time they were talking and it made Dabi sick to his fucking stomach, especially when he'd happily offered to do it again if it would make meeting up easier for him. Wonders how much else Hawks has been forced to do because no one has ever given him the option of choosing things for himself.

He'd stopped holding the hero at arm's length after that. Told Duster what he thought the hero wanted, told him how badly broken he already was, and gotten permission to bring him around the rest of the League. Not for business. They made sure that wasn't ever being conducted anywhere he could see it. And then they'd started trying. Trying to what? Fix him? Break him more? Dabi isn't even sure, just knows that he'd brought the hero to the base and everyone else had taken one look at him and figured out that there was something so wrong and warped underneath Hawks' cheerful smiles that even they seemed more happy, healthy, and stable than he is.

Maybe it's because Duster's goal is destruction, Spinner and Compress want to root out the corrupt systems, and Twice and Toga just want to be safe and free. Maybe he's just got a soft spot for someone that pretty and that broken by becoming a hero, but they all started to try. All of them want someone as broken as Hawks to become one of them, to choose them and choose a life where he can escape all of the horrible things that made him the way he is now. Dabi sees how that is chipping away at the hero every time he comes around. How he takes the invitation to visit their base with equal parts glee and dread. Because surely this is what the HPSC wants, surely they can't hide everything from his sharp gold eyes, but when he's with them, they make him choose things for himself. Ask him what he wants to eat and don't relent until he picks something for himself, ask him what kind of movie he wants to watch during their downtime, ask him what his favorite color is, what hobbies he has. Ask him questions, make him choose. Hurts Dabi's fucking heart at how hard even making the most simple of choices are for Hawks. How when he or Shigaraki are in the room, he always looks to them to see if they have any obvious preference that he can just follow along with.

///

Really isn't surprised when one night, tangled in Duster's sheets together, his skin slowly cooling from how hot his lover forced it to creep with his knowing, demanding touches, Shig presses a kiss to his temple and murmurs, "Hawks tried to proposition me."

He hums, nuzzling closer. "Turn him down or should I be asking if you washed your sheets first?" If he has to share Duster with anyone, he doesn't think that it would be a hardship to share him with the pretty, broken hero.

"Told him no. Not until he actually wants it." Light touches along his back, tracing the line of scars and staples with fingers that could kill him in an instant. A soft kiss pressed against his hair as their words trail off into nothing. Comfortable, warm. Glad he chose this. A damn shame the hero still hasn't chosen them yet. Probably needs this softness just as much as the two of them did at the start.

///

Isn't surprised that Hawks tries for him too. Was probably told to go after the leader if he could and settle for him if he couldn't. Was just sitting on the roof with the other, wishing that he could smoke, isn't because even though Hawks has never said it, he knows he hates the smell because he always tightens his wings against his back whenever he and Twice do it around him. That they go from shooting the shit to his wings trembling slightly before he's leaning in. Isn't surprised that he's trying, but didn't really expect it right now. Doesn't pull away fast enough. Ends up with the hero's mouth pressed against his own, light and nervous. Is a little stupid and weak when he figures this is the only chance he's going to get and wraps a hand around the back of his neck. Settles their lips together more fully, but keeps it soft and gentle. Doesn't let any heat creep into the touch. Doesn't know if the little sigh against his lips is good or bad, if his wings are trembling because he's elated this is working or terrified it is. Absolutely won't take it any further until he does know. Gives Hawks the softest kiss he's ever given anyone aside from Duster. And then pulls away. Hawks tries to follow him.

"Not until you're sure you really want this, pretty bird."

Knows he doesn't when he looks so stricken and scared as Dabi lets go of him and stands. Feels a little worse now. Wonders if Hawks can even tell what he wants over what other people want for him anymore.

"We're both happy to wait until you make up your mind, dove." Adds even more carefully, "Even if you decide you don't want us. Still have a place here if you choose the League." Goes inside. Is pretty sure he hears Hawks take off a few minutes later.

///

Not surprised that Hawks doesn't come around again. Wonders if he told his keepers that he tried what they wanted and failed. Wonders if they're going to do something to him to make him more compliant, to make him do what they want. But he doesn't really have time to linger on it. Not when Duster and the rest of them are suddenly fighting one of Ujiko's monsters and then an entire fucking city, and then Shig is hurt along with Twice and Toga, and they have an army and a new base and a lot to fucking do. He still texts Hawks their new coordinates. Figures if he shows up with heroes to attack that he really won't be expecting the entire army they now have at their command. But Hawks doesn't reply, he doesn't show up, and things go on for two months.

Is not expecting a Lieutenants meeting to be interrupted by one of their grunts barging in, blood on their hands and smeared across their shirt. Dabi is smoking, on his feet, as he sees two red feathers stuck, and more vibrant that the drying smears of blood, against their clothes. Barely hears them as they say that the number two hero just crash landed on the roof, one wing nearly gone and bleeding heavily. He and Duster are immediately out of the room, rushing up to the roof. They meet some other grunts on their way down the stairs, carrying Hawks. Duster takes the hero out of their arms, lifts him easily and holds him close. The stump of one wing is bleeding, more crimson smeared across his temple and dying his blond hair dark, eyes closed with dark circles underneath them. Doesn't know if he's so pale because he's bleeding or because he's exhausted. Dabi doesn't care. Calls the doctor. Gets the three of them sent to his lab in a minute and Ujiko starts working on putting the hero back to rights as soon as Duster puts him down on the cot.

It only takes an hour. The cut on his head is messy and needs stitches, the stump of one wing needs to be wrapped, but given his past exploits seems like it will heal on its own in a few days, he needs a blood transfusion which is taken care of easily with one of Twice's doubles, and he is dehydrated and exhausted, bruised in a lot of places, but otherwise alright. Then it's just hours of him and Duster waiting for him to wake up. They put their people on high alert, but no other heroes seem to be coming, and as far as their actual hero spies can tell, Hawks is currently being listed as MIA, with rumors starting to circulate that he might have been taken hostage by the League of Villains. They wait.

Hawks eventually wakes up.

Does so with panic in his eyes, the remaining feathers of his other wing sharpening to blades immediately, eyes scanning the room rapidly for threats. Breaks something in his chest when he goes so boneless with his relief when he sees the two of them. Takes him a second, and his voice sound thin and scared when he finally asks,

"Were you serious? Can I... can I... stay?"

"Course you can, angel."

He hasn't ever heard Hawks make the shaky, avian sounds he does now. Really hopes he never has to hear them again because he's absolutely gutted from the sadness in their tone.

///

Takes a few weeks for him to heal up and Duster puts his own treatment on hold for a while. Doesn't know how long it will be, but they want to be around Hawks while he's figuring out how to function without someone holding his leash. All of the League-- yeah they rebranded but he, Twice, Spinner, Toga, Compress, and Duster will always be the League-- try to keep an eye on him. They don't give him anything to work on, just tell him to get better and then he can start trying to figure out what to do next. He keeps trying to be useful. Keeps wanting to give them whatever he can to prove that he's worth their time, that he is an asset that they should keep because he can follow orders. Takes a few weeks to start to convince him that they don't want anything from him in exchange for keeping him safe with them.

Weeks to get him to eat what he wants, to start to wear clothes the he likes, to watch things he likes or read books that interest him when they're all busy working. Weeks before he stops looking so guilty whenever he wants something. Still struggles so much with complex choices, will shut down when given too many options. They figure that out quickly enough though, start offering him smaller ones. Does he want coffee or juice? Would he rather go read with Compress between meetings or go with Toga and Spinner to practice knife work? Does he want help preening his wings or would he rather do it himself? Little things. They can work up to the bigger ones when he's ready.

Takes two months of Hawks being here before he somehow ends up on the couch between him and Duster. Before his wings tremble and fluff and there's a very pretty blush just starting to tint his cheeks pink. Dabi knows what he wants, what he'd choose to do in this moment. Knows what Shig wants too. Neither of them act on it. Won't push. Takes a while before Hawks says, very, very quietly,

"I... know what I want now."

He and Duster's eyes meet for a second, their own doubt etched into the look. He can't help but wonder if this is really what Hawks wants, or if this is just another way of him trying desperately to be useful when they've stopped every other avenue until he's better. But Shig puts a hand against the small of Hawks' back as he angles his body to face the hero and Dabi catches his chin between his fingers, makes him meet his eyes. Nervous, flushed, wings all fluffy and fluttering. Not held so tightly against his back like they were the first time.

"Are you sure about this, dove?"

"You can change your mind, we're not going to be upset. We don't want you to think you owe us anything, little bird." And their voices are both soft and careful. Sees their pretty bird swallow, hears a little coo slip out of his throat.

"I know, I'm sure." Blushes a little darker, his wings fluffing even more. "I... want you."

They don't ask again as Duster catches his lips with his own and Dabi presses his mouth to Hawks' jaw as his fingers sink into those soft, fluffy feathers.

Dabi still doesn't feel like he had much of a choice in falling in love with the two of them. Like so much of his life, it felt inevitable, like loving Tomura and Hawks was just the correct choice and that any other would lead to ruin. But he doesn't mind that. Especially not if the inevitability of him falling let Hawks really choose what he really wanted in the end. Is glad that he chose them.

#my writing #shigadabihawks #shigadabi #dabihawks #shigahawks #mha fanfiction #fanfiction #ask #asks #prompt response #writing prompt

74 notes · View notes

herrscherrofyatta · 2 years ago

Text

Splintered Heart

Chapter 21

Pairing: Ayato x reader, Kazuha x reader

Genre: Arranged marriage, fluff, angst, multiple ending, slow burn

summary: a detective comes over to the estate to find out the truth while Ayato catches up with old friends

Placing the small plushie, a gift from Ayato, on the pillows before leaving the room and seeing that Ayato and Thoma hadn't come back just yet.

Feeling a bit better than yesterday, you go outside to see none of your friends there since you do wake up pretty early as a habit.

"Good morning, my lady." A guard at the door says as you smile at him.

"Good morning, any news about my husband and Thoma?" You ask them but he shakes his head.

"I'm afraid not, my apologies."

"It's alright, I hope everything is alright on his side." You go back inside to work on the documents that needed to be seen by Ayato. An hour goes by when you pick up a document that has something that interests you a lot.

"A festival....oh, it's the test of courage! I love this one." You mumble, reading through it. Ayato had always made sure to put more effort into things like since he knew you loved the horror genre.

It looked like it was going to be the same as usual but you knew Ayato always had something under his sleeve so you were really looking forward to this.

Another hour goes by when Kazuha strolls in, "there you are," you look up at this, "everyone is waiting for the lady of the house outside for breakfast." He watches as you blink at this before shaking your head.

"You all can go ahead and eat, no need to wait for me. I need to finish these papers." You go back to working until you glance up to see him still standing there, arms crossed as he gives you a look.

Sighing, you give in, "alright, I'll eat with everyone."

He smiles at this, walking ahead and the guards outside give him a look as you two pass by, waving at Mei who waves at you, clearly happy that Kazuha has convinced you to come and eat with him.

"Good morning, everyone. I hope you all had a good night's rest and I apologize for what happened yesterday."

Albedo shakes his head, "there's no need to apologize, those people have been tormenting you for a long time."

"He's right, personally I think that once Ayato comes back, you two can solve thid problem once and for all." Mei adds as you smile at her.

"Well, it would be nice to have peace and quiet but even if we get rid of them, I am still the wife of Ayato so I still put a target on my back."

Mei looks down at her plate of food as you pick up your cup of tea, "....right, last time you were kidnapped during the Decree."

Kazuha almost spits out his tea at this.

You nod, "yes but I never doubt Ayato's plan so my capture was merely a bait." Kazuha looks at you dumbfounded, you were okay with being captured???

"Our plan was a success in the end, Watasumi's soldiers were able to make it to the Shogan's place without a problem."

"You took place in that?" Kazuha said.

"Of course, Ayato may have not been able to physically show his dislike for the decree. I, on the other hand was known to hate the decree after losing my vision." You said.

"You lost it?" Mei shakes her head, remembering that incident well. "She gave it to Sara after the death of Tomo and just like any other vision bearer, she lost her ambition."

Kazuha looks at you for confirmation but all he saw was a solemn expression on your face as you stared at the plate in front of you. "Y/n?"

"I have no recollection of that time nor do I want to know."

The table goes quiet and everyone begins to eat, Ayaka glances over at you then down, trying to think of something to brighten up the atmosphere.

"....I heard the drafts of the portraits are going well, isn't that right Albedo?"

The blonde looks up from cleaning Klee's face full of crumbs. "That's right although I don't think I can finish it during my stay here since I need to return to Mondstadt."

"I understand, the festival I planned is probably going to be pushed back due to my health and Ayato might not want me to push myself." You explain, sighing, "but I'll send you an invitation!"

Klee cheers at this, "I can't wait to come back again!" She giggles as you smile at her and everyone goes back to finishing their breakfast.

As one of your servants is cleaning the table, Albedo pulls you to the side and away from everyone and you two speak in a hush tone.

"Not that I don't think you're capable of taking care of yourself but I feel extremely bad for leaving you in a time where Ayato isn't here." He says as you shake your hands at this.

"It's completely fine, you and Klee need to go back home and I can reassure you that us Kamisatos can take care of ourselves so please," placing a hand on your chest, "you can return home without worry."

Albedo stares at you for a moment before nodding, "alright, we will be leaving today at sunset."

"I'll be there to send you two off."

—

You were inside when a guard approached you, bowing before speaking. "My lady," glancing up from the piles of paper you look at him. "The detective you asked for has arrived and is currently waiting outside for you."

Standing up, you dismiss the guard and go to the room Kazuha was currently staying in. Knocking on the door, you heard his muffled voice from the inside. "I'll be right there."

Taking a step back, you wait.

The door slides open to reveal Kazuha, "oh Y/n, is there something you needed?"

"The detective is here and waiting for us outside, I came to fetch you." You explain to him as he slowly nods, closing the door to follow you, leading the way, you gesture out with your hand.

"Kazuha," he lets out a hum, "the detective we're going to meet is someone you can trust and tell everything from your side of things."

Opening the doors, the guards look at you before a voice is heard.

"Hey there," Kazuha blinks at the sight of the detective sitting at the table before standing up, "dear cousin! It's been so long!"

Smiling at this, you agree, "it has been, hasn't it? Cousin Heizou."

Kazuha's jaw downs in surprise, watching as you hug Heizou, with a big bright smile on your lips as he pats your back softly.

Heizou pulls away, his eyes examining your face and noticing the lack of sleep you've gotten, "that husband of yours hasn't been letting you get much sleep, huh?" He says in a teasing tone as he grins at the sight of your face flushing bright red at this as you swap your hand at his shoulder.

"H-heizou! Not in front of Kazuha, please." You mumble embarrassed, covering your lips with the sleeve of the kimono you wore, "plus....Ayato never puts his hands on me unless I tell him to do so."

The burgundy haired man just laughs, "I'm pulling your leg, cousin! I came as early as I could upon your request to see him." The tips of your ears are still red as you lead the two men to the table, gesturing them to sit down.

Sighing, you look at Heizou with a serious expression, "Heizou, the reason I called for you was to ask if you can help fill in the blanks of the past, both of me and Kazuha."

Your cousin looks at Kazuha before looking back at you, "wait....he was the dude who..?"

You nod your head at this as he hums, a hand under his chin as he thinks before speaking again, "well, I know mostly everything that has happened on Y/n's side," he side eyes Kazuha, "but you have a lot of explaining to do. Such as why you left my cousin heartbroken for several years and only just now showed your face."

Kazuha nods, he knows he should explain everything with the chance you've given to listen to what he was to say.

"The day I left Y/n, we were in plans of getting engaged in secret so she could leave her home but after I became the heir of my clan, I decided to send away every single one of the servants so I can finally travel around without anything holding me back."

Your gaze shifts to your hands, narrowed down filled pain as you realize that you were just something holding him back—

"and that included Y/n as well." Your eyes widen at Heizou's words.

Kazuha is caught off guard, "..no, she wasn't..."

Your cousin narrows his eyes at him, "well it sounds like it, like you left her to break ties with everything that reminded you of what responsibilities you could've had if you decide to stay as the heir of your clan."

Kazuha looks over you but all he sees is your head down, hands clenched together without saying a single word.

"Heizou please, let him finish." You whisper loud enough for him to sigh, crossing his arms.

"The last time I saw her, I promised to always send her a letter with the recent travels I do around Inazuma and that was the last time we talked face to face until recently."

Heizou writes this down, glancing over at you to confirm what Kazuha said.

"Yes, he did say he would."

The more Kazuha explained, the more Heizou was slowly connecting the missing dots of his story and how many things started to clear up things for you.

"I wrote letters upon letters until one day, I received one from her."

Heizou continues to write his words down, "what did those letters say? Can you remember?"

He gives the white haired man a moment to think, "she wrote what she always tells me, that she loves me and couldn't wait to see me again."

The detective hums, looking over at you, "Y/n?"

You glance at him, "I received a few letters but never sent any since around that time my engagement to Ayato was official in private." You say, making Kazuha's eyes go wide.

"Kazuha, if it's possible, I would like those letters handed over for this case, is that alright?"

"Of course, but I don't think it's necessary."

Heizou sighs at this, "look, I think it's possible that someone was forging those letters using Y/n's name. I know that when her engagement to the Yashiro Commissioner was announced publicly, she had already moved in at this estate since I was there to help her pack some of the things she had taken from her home." He explains, remembering that day so clearly.

"My father had always disapproved of our relationship, as he saw that a marriage with you would not benefit the l/n clan so when you left, he was quick to move to Ayato." You explain to them.

The three of you spent all day trying to bring more context to Heizou, "so to summarize Kazuha's part in all this, he stated that he sent letters and Y/n would respond, in his mind, she had stayed still and waited for you. The person you two had in common was Tomo, my condolences to you two, he was a great man."

Your face falters at this, letting out a shaky sigh, resting your hand on your chest, "now the question, did Tomo know and stay silent?"

Your cousin looks at you, "y/n, if you could explain your side now? You don't have to explain some parts if you're comfortable talking about them, it's alright." Nodding your head, you take a deep breath and slowly start to talk.

"After Kazuha left, I got engaged to Ayato and quickly moved in to escape my father's grasp as you know my father is a terrible man."

'Please! I beg you Ayato, don't let me go back home! My father will surely punish me for not following his orders!' Teenager you cried to Ayato, 'my sister has probably made up another horrible lie about me!'

"It was a dinner between the Kamisatos and the L/n clan," you recall, "about our engagement going public, my sister was trying too hard to get Ayato's attention but was angry at the sight of him paying more attention to me than her, spilling her drink on me by pretending to trip—" you sigh, remembering everything that happened, rubbing the side of your head, "my father demanded I take the blame but I didn't. That's when I moved in, Heizou came by a few days later to congratulate me and the two of us went back to the l/n estate to gather a few of my things before we were kicked out."

Kazuha could only see the way your eyes filled with adoration, "Ayato had welcomed me with open arms that day." Just by speaking about the man.

He couldn't help but listen to how painful you spoke about the years that you hoped that he would come back and keep his promise of coming back for you.

Once your explanation was done, Heizou was still scribbling away while you tried to calm down your shaky hands, speaking on this topic wasn't hard but you couldn't help but feel a bit shaken up about how you truly thought of these years.

Taking a peek at the man who you used to love years ago, you're taken back as your eyes widened at the sight of a tear rolling down his face as he stares at you.

You could feel tears building as he sniffs, lowering his head in shame, "you've been...." More tears fall from his lashes as he lets out a shaky sigh, "you've been waiting... for me this whole time?"

Your tears continue to grow yet they don't fall, making your vision blur from them and the bottom of your lips begins to tremble as they start to fall.

"I'm...sorry." he says in a quavering voice.

Standing up, you cover your face with your hand before heading back inside, leaving the two men alone as Heizou sighs for what seems the hundredth time that day.

It seems like Kazuha was going to run after you, but he intervened, "don't, she doesn't need you right now." He grips his arm as Kazuha refuses to look back at him.

"Look, even if you do somehow win her back, what will happen to the life she built here as a noble? Her relationship with the Yashiro Commissioner, years of friendship gone to waste simply because you come back after years of silence. She's a noble, the wife of someone important in Inazuma and you're a wanderer with no thought of settling down permanently. That's something no amount of time is ever going to change.

I know you, Kazuha, as well as my cousin, she would not leave this life for anything."

"But...I love her." Kazuha sniffs.

"If you truly love her, you'll let her go, for her sake and yours. Someone like her won't get used to moving around from place to place."

He lets go of him, frowning when he sees go where you headed to.

"You'll only get yourselves hurt."

Heizou says, rubbing the back of his head as he feels a headache growing. "Love can be so complicated sometimes. I'll just go back to the office and work on this."

—

"Happy Lantern Rite everyone! I didn't expect to bump into someone important from Inazuma, Zhongli if you can introduce these two gentlemen."

Thoma smiles at the girl as Ayato nods at her, "Everyone, this is Lord Ayato and this is Thoma, his friend and housekeeper of the Kamisato estate."

"It's a pleasure to meet everyone." Ayato says, "I must say that my sudden appearance might shock some of you, I was invited by Miss Eden but it seems like she's not here."

Hu Tao's eyes light up at this, "oh! She said she would be coming in a little late. Right, Xiao?"

Everyone looks at the conqueror of demons, "...yes, that's right."

Ayato made sure Thoma sat down as he had the habit of standing behind him during events like this back in Inazuma.

While everyone was digging in, there was a small conversation happening when the door to the restaurant opened.

"My apologies for arriving late, Yun Jin needed some guidance with something—oh, Ayato and Thoma, you two made it."

"Y/—"

"It's Eden, Hu Tao." The brown haired girl stops, rubbing the back of her head, "oh yeah, glad you could make it!"

Eden and another person with braided hair, who introduced himself as Venti, bard from Mondstadt, "I was catching up with an old friend." She smiles at the bard who smiles back, "I didn't notice the time."

Greetings everyone, Ayato watches as the Conqueror of Demons gets up from his seat, grabbing the chair and placing it behind Eden who didn't quite notice his actions.

He blinks as Xiao brings out another chair and sits back down like nothing happened, crossing his arms.

"You'll be leaving tonight, right Ayato?" She asks, "bring Y/n and little Ayaka next time."

They smile at each other before Zhongli places hand on the woman's hip, making her look down at her.

"Dear, sit down on my lap. I'm afraid there are no more seats." Eden blinks at this, looking around the table before looking behind to see the chair Xiao put earlier and feeling a tug on her hip, pulling her towards him.

"I can sit here." She says, sliding the chair in and sitting down, "Thank you, Conqueror of Demons." She smiles at the Adepti before everyone starts to eat.

Lumine and Paimon were speaking to Xiao while Eden spoke with Ayato.

"Ayato, I really do hope your wife gets better. Here, I prepared a gift for her." She picks a bag up from the floor, one he didn't notice at first. "This is an amulet, it has the Adepti's blessing for protection, the decree must have been hard for your family."

Thoma sigh, "tell me about it." He lets out a nervous chuckle.

"I also prepare some for you two as well." She sees, patting the bag. "And a couple lanterns, souvenirs as well."

Accepting the gifts, the night comes to an end as Ayato and Thoma say their goodbyes to everyone and head to the boat to take them back to Inazuma.

Thoma looks over Ayato who stood, watching the water below with his arms crossed, he seems to be in deep thought.

"Good night."

"..good night, Thoma." He leaves him there and heads off to bed.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Taglist: @thetwinkims @aurressence @woncafe @loveknows @aixaingela @suzuyamitsuki @yourlocalwalkingbi @kimura-uzuri @jihaegguk @prefesro @aria-haru @forgot-the-acronym @yoshikuno @dazaiscum @bananazzzen @kaelysian @fluffimemes @zannivrs @kazeniya @astreankitsune @xiaosimpdamn @twistedrxses @pagkaiin @yeahhemmings- @cocosakuya15 @eclipse247 @eissaaaa @useless-potatho @tvgirlfangirl @justacatenthusiast @brinex @surrin7 @reinvqx @xxyuixe @kumiko-desu @myesno @milkyonyourway @03050912 @lavunyan @horodoine @shirmxie @sanaldn @horodoine @felkie @superwormysstuff @shirmxie

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #kazuha #ayato x reader #ayato imagines #ayato kamisato #ayato x y/n #ayato x you #ayato kamisato imagines #kazuha x you #kazuha x y/n #kazuha x reader

112 notes · View notes