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soarrenbluejay · 1 month

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Supervillains for a community. (Well, except those jerks over in Gotham, insular lot, but they’re they’re one problem) Of course they do- supervillains are a group defined by strong opinions and a willingness to see them through, often with a healthy dash of societal failures and trauma as a catalyst.

The fentons, while not active even on the online message boards, are well known and explosive when they do show up, full of fascinating insights and hours long rants on mad science on hair pin turns courtesy of that ADHD attention span. Bit of the cryptids you feel honored to bump into kind of deal. Besides, like a good quarter of the community as it aged, they’d settled down and had kids (not necessarily in that order) and taken it very seriously! Out in the middle of nowhere, where even the most fearsome government outpost members, the local branch of the IRS, quake before them in fear. Out of the way.

Reveal gone okay-ish, Danny moves to Gotham still to get some air bc now things are Akward and he landed that engineering scholarship which is loads better than any other college would give him with his track record. So- the mysterious Fenton children are finally crawling out of hiding! Everyone is psyched! And roll in to Gotham en masse to witness the fireworks!

Except Danny is Determined To Be Normal. He’s had enough of the throwing himself into harms way shit for a lifetime- he wants to be free to peacefully built Rube Goldberg machines and unintentional increasingly complex bombs to his hearts content. JAZZ, on the other hand- the coveted token Normal One, has finally snapped! She’s watched her baby brother she practically raised throw himself into danger over and over and could do nothing, and now that she’s exposed to this whole network of superheroes outside of small town Amnity, some of those uglier emotions are coming out. And boy is she pissed! And can’t afford to show it much while filing the paperwork to have Arkham legally razed to the ground!

See I love this idea of like, niches in superhero society. A villain the heroes know they can plop their kiddo down with for an exciting afternoon brawl while they take care of a particularly grisly case and come back to a few hours later ranting about some new life lesson and a new move they really want to try. A villain who has a functioning moral compass despite their somewhat batshit long term goal and you can contact to fuck with another villains’s plan so they can laugh at them and you can have an easy afternoon. One who pries up hostile architecture and fills in pot holes, idk man. Get creative here, there’s such potential!

So Jazz becomes a Training villain- someone the heroes know their sidekicks will walk away from in a fight 100% of the time, usually with some new lesson to ponder and only a couple of bruises. Sometimes even snacks!

She also absolutely ambushes mentors to check that they’re worth the kiddo, which they appreciate once they get over being jumped in a dark alley by a 7 foot Amazon trained force of nature. They are not used to being on that side of the jumping, it’s a little unnerving.

(Yes, she low key adopts Shazam upon checking in with him on cursory ‘is the main hero of this city and asshole’ checkin. Yes, the super clones get yoinked out from under Superman’s negligent thumb to go have a blast with Ellie. What about it?)

This however only encourages more assorted weirdos to crawl out of the woodwork. It’s not often one of their own forfeits their potential spot for the running of the coveted Most Normal I Swear prize, but when they do it’s bound to be good! But jazz is off hounding various heroes and punching the faces in of pedophiles and shit whenever there’s no cape within easy reach, and so is a mite bit harder to contact than Danny, who has innocently gotten an apprenticeship under a clockworker for access to their workshop and is gleefully going about doing nerdy shit with great abandon.

Plus this is Gotham. No one gives a shit if someone in the Mad Alchemist uniform and still smoking from their latest experiment pokes their head in a window to bother the local shrimp teen- none of the usual social rules apply, everyone’s crazy here! So everyone drops any and all attempts at masking and just acts their genuine unhinged selves, much to the alarm of the Bats and frustration of Danny.

Bc he cannot get these mfers to go. Away. Even liberal use of the creep stick has little effect when the interloper is calibrated for an opponent with super speed or laser vision or whatever, and he’s trying to maintain his guise as a Normal College Student Do No Investigate.

So he calls in the big guns. He’s not super active in the supervillain kids group chat ever since things in amnity calmed the fuck down post becoming King and then immediately using a loophole that says he will not take the throne until he is grown, as defined by finishing learning his trade a la the medieval standards Pariah set up. So he can just take his sweet ass time with his graduate degree and out of inter dimensional bull shit that much longer! Point is, he hasn’t taken the chance to rant over there in a while, so his Crazy friends are getting a lil worried.

The change to come over and shout at their batshit crazy but (mostly) well meaning parent AND see Danny? Score!

The bats, however, are getting awfully suspicious about this one kid that villains from all over the country are flocking to, especially young and upcoming ones as of recently! And he’s acting his engineering course- all the worst rogues are known to have flown through their PhD studies prior to Cracking. They seem to have a real problem on their hands with this Fenton guy.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #mad science #supervillain community #bonus points if you can pull out some super niche comic villain #justice for kite man #local child of a crazy chemist: so you know that trick you showed me with the soda and the reaction that could turn into just like all foam #Danny: yeah and also back the fuck up #lcoacc: so it’s been like my comfort food right but like I started wondering what you could do #danny: oh no (he says while making what amounts of an overachieving smoke bomb)#lcoacc: so I was like what if I add more of a base to it so it could be solid and then maybe just like a LIL acid to see what happens #Danny: oh ancients #lcoacc: but then the killjoy supes came in a ruined everything from where I was ruining lex Luther’s day #Danny:… did you get in on camera #lcoacc: OF COURSE. oh also like everyone ever if coming over for a sleepover lol #Danny: WHAT I CANT FEED YOU MONSTERS #lcoacc: no worrries we’ll rob a bulk store or something lol #Danny: nO

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narraboths · 7 months

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“You got anything to tell me about yesterday’s interview, Ponytail?”

Being cornered by one’s editor is rarely a good sign. Being cornered by a harried Snapper Carr one month into her tenure as a rookie reporter would be enough to give others nightmares for a month. Maybe ulcers. Kara, though, she’s been having a great week, and she’s not about to let anyone ruin it.

“Nope.” She pops the p a little. Something about Snapper’s moroseness always pushes her to be spitefully chipper.

“Nothing out of the ordinary?”

“Not at all.”

“Hm.” Snapper nurses the thought with that dour, toothachey look that Kara’s come to learn is directed at her just as much as it is a sign of his general displeasure with the world. He pulls out his phone, jabbing at the screen. “So do you mind explaining to me why my cub reporter is on the front page of every gossip rag from here to Metropolis as the Mystery Blonde Caught in Luthor’s Web?”

That can’t be right is immediately the tip of Kara’s tongue but it freezes there, along with the incredulous laugh threatening to burst out of her, because Snapper is shoving his phone in her face and–

“It’s not what it looks like,” she blurts out, instinctively, then winces at her own choice of words. Great save. “I was just being considerate.”

It’s true, really. She was only holding the door open for Lena as they left L-Corp (Lena was on the move the whole day, they did half of the interview in the back of her Range Rover, flitting between offices), and it only happened that Lena’s hand fell to her forearm, a completely innocent gesture, as innocent as Lena’s smile, as the way she swayed a little closer, saying thank you as she strode by. And sure, Kara may have felt mesmerized for a single, fleeting moment, suddenly so deeply flustered by the gentle weight of Lena’s hand that she almost cracked the door handle in two, but who wouldn’t? Lena Luthor just has a remarkable presence. Why are they letting paparazzi camp out at the L-Corp doorstep, anyways?

“I’ve never seen Luthor that affectionate with anyone.” Snapper eyes Kara suspiciously, his face screaming why you of all people, bumbling rookie who can barely even spell?. “I’ve never seen any of the Luthors affectionate with anyone at all.”

“Guess it’s just my natural charm, sir.” Kara flashes the most annoyingly innocent smile she can, then squares her shoulders. “Did you actually read my article?”

There’s a beat of silence, Snapper staring daggers at her. Then finally, finally, he lets out an annoyed huff.

“Of course I read it. It’s going out first thing tomorrow.” He pockets his phone, then rubs his face with a tired motion. “Make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

“You got it, boss.”

It happens again.

It happens again a bunch, really. (Kara at the L-Corp gala, at Lena’s table, the two of them in lively conversation, shoulders pressed together – she was telling me about L-Corp’s new green energy initiative, sir –, the fond smile and almost-teasing tone when Lena calls “yes, Miss Danvers?” at her press conference – she’s just nice! It’s not a crime! –, the candid of them on the CatCo balcony when Lena’s in house for her cover shoot, Kara gesturing excitedly and Lena leaning against the railing, hanging onto every word, a jacket two sizes too big wrapped around her shoulders – you know it gets cold out there. At least there’s no photos of her wrapping the jacket around Lena, their hands brushing together, the faint blush along the lines of Lena’s throat. That’d probably look pretty suspicious.) Snapper’s face takes on increasingly vivid shades of purplish red.

“Do we need to go over the meaning of journalistic integrity again, Danvers?”

Kara decides to take graduating from “Ponytail” as a win.

“We’re not– it’s not anything untoward,” she shoots back, arms crossed, only slightly blushing. In anger, certainly. “I’m doing my job. I grilled her on L-Corp still holding a contract with the government for anti-alien defense systems that Lex negotiated, just last week. There’s footage.”

“Yeah,” Snapper grinds his teeth so vehemently that Kara’s afraid he might crack a crown. “Footage of her hugging you in the hallway afterwards, too. What the hell were you doing?”

“She just thanked me, sir.” The vein on Snapper’s neck looks ready to burst. Kara makes a mental note to recommend meditation at a less belligerent time. “She said my question made it possible for her to make a public stance and really send a message.”

Snapper looks like he’s nearing an aneurysm.

“Hell, Danvers, that sounds even worse!”

It sounded pretty great, actually, Kara thinks, after the borderline unprofessional row they had in Lena’s office when Kara first broached the subject. It felt pretty great, too, not just Lena’s declaration, her renewed commitment to reject everything Lex and Lillian stand for, but the warmth of Lena’s pressed against her, her lips brushing against Kara’s cheek, the low murmur of “you’re such a wonderful friend” in her ear that gave her such a strange shiver. At least that much thankfully escaped the prying eyes and cameras.

“Either I don’t go near her, or CatCo continues to have the leading stories on one of National City’s most high-profile citizens.” She gives Snapper the steeliest look she can muster without letting her heat vision flare up. “And my covers are currently bringing in our biggest numbers. Sir.”

Snapper grinds his teeth again, but his shoulders sag just a touch, and Kara knows she’s won this round.

“You’re on thin ice, Danvers. Back to your desk.”

Kara complies with a grin and a thumbs up, and decides to take a break half an hour later, when Alex forwards her an article titled Bosom Buddies: Lena Luthor Out And About With CatCo Gal Pal with a subtle mix of skull, knife, and eyeroll emojis. She does save one of the photos, though, the one where Lena’s head’s thrown back in adorable, delightful laughter.

“Can you explain this one, Danvers?”

Snapper doesn’t look angry this time. No, he’s strangely calm, somewhat elated, even, slamming a whole bundle of newspapers down on her desk, jolting Kara out of her reverie. Half of them are National City publications, Kara vaguely notes, but there’s Metropolis and Gotham and Central City in the mix, too, as if it was the story of the century. Must be a slow news day.

“Of course, sir. I think the proper term is ‘first date’?”

To her greatest surprise, Snapper barks out a laugh, loud and gruff.

“You’re now barred from any future reporting on the Luthors or L-Corp,” he tells her, not without a touch of satisfaction. If Kara hadn’t been walking on sunshine for the past thirteen hours, twenty-eight minutes and forty-one seconds, since the first tentative press of Lena’s lips against her own, she might’ve felt a bit miffed. “Cat Grant’s setting aside a little time later in the afternoon to chew you out personally.”

Kara nods happily along. Withering tones and grim disapproval, the usual spiel, as if anything could dull that buzzing, electrifying feeling coursing through her body since last night, the weightless, feverish joy that grips her every time she thinks of Lena’s last text and everything can’t wait to see you again tonight could possibly entail.

“Yessir.”

“Congratulations, Danvers.” Snapper raps his knuckles against her desk. “Let’s spare each other the heartburn from now on.”

(Kara shows up with a hickey on her neck and the headlines of Lena Luthor Packs PDA With New Girlfriend the next day. Snapper refuses to look her in the eyes for the rest of the week.)

#supercorp #supercorp fic #my fic

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ikiprian · 2 months

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Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School is a popular YouTube series. Tucker Foley is a star student.

Barbara Gordon's Cram School posts free online courses for both coding and computer engineering. Think Crash Course in terms of entertainment, but college lecture in terms of depth. Hundreds of thousands of viewers flock to it— students who missed a class, people looking to add new skills to a resume, even simple hobbyists. It’s a project Barbara’s proud of.

Sometimes, when she wants to relax, she’ll even hop in the comments and spend an afternoon troubleshooting a viewer’s project with them.

User “Fryer-Tuck” has especially interesting ones. Barbara finds herself seeking out his comments, checking in on whatever this crazy kid is making next. An app for collecting GPS pings and assembling them on a map in real-time, an algorithm that connects geographic points to predict something’s movement taking a hundred other variables into account, simplified versions of incredibly complex homemade programs so they can run on incredibly limited CPU’s.

(Barbara wants to buy the kid a PC. It seems he’s got natural talent, but he keeps making reference to a PDA. Talk about 90’s! This guy’s hardware probably predates his birth.)

She chats with him more and more, switching to less public PM threads, and eventually, he opens up. His latest project, though, is not something Barbara has personal experience with.

FT: so if you found, hypothetically, a mysterious glowing substance that affects tech in weird and wacky ways that could totally have potential but might be vaguely sentient/otherworldly…. what would you do and how would you experiment with it. safely, of course. and hypothetically

BG: I’d make sure all my tests were in disposable devices and quarantined programs to keep it from infecting my important stuff. Dare I ask… how weird and wacky is it?

FT: uhhh. theoretically, a person composed of this substance once used it to enter a video game. like physical body, into the computer, onto the screen? moving around and talking and fighting enemies within the game?

FT: its been experimented with before, but not on any tech with a brain. just basic shields and blasters and stuff, its an energy source. also was put in a car once

FT: i wanna see how it affects software, yk? bc i already know it can. mess around and see how far i can push it

BG: […]

FT: … barbara?

BG: Sorry, thinking. Would you mind sharing more details? You said “blasters?”

Honestly. Kid genius with access to some truly wacky materials and even wackier weapons, she needs to start a file on him before he full sends to either hero or villain.

[OR: Tucker is a self-taught hacker, but if he were to credit a teacher, he'd name Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School! He's even caught the attention of Dr. Gordon herself. She's full of sage advice, and with how she preaches the value of a good VPN, he's sure she's not pro-government. Maybe she'll help him as he studies the many applications of ecto-tech!]

#she does end up sending tucker a PC lol #and after she learns he has experience supporting a superhero team maybe pushes his name forward to WEs outreach program for r&d potentials #picks him up by the scruff and says MY coding buddy #also fun fact she had a phd in library science at one point. i like that about her i think we should talk about it a little more #also tucker was making a ghost reporting & tracking app for amity parkers #dpxdc #dcxdp #barbara gordon #tucker foley #prompt #kipwrite

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targaryen-dynasty · 3 months

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THE DEVIL'S ADVOCATE.

Antichrist!Aemond Targaryen x female Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; dub con, p in v, fingering (with gloves 😮‍💨), dacryphilia, choking, degrading, unprotected sex, power imbalance, female reader

WORDS: 4.7 K

NOTES: Yes, this is based on American Horror Story Apocalypse. Michael Langdon is just so *phew* that I had to adapt it to Aemond. This is so self indulgent, I'm not even sorry. @kaelabear you're getting the special taglist. @arcielee thank you for beta reading this! <3

You have lost track of how many days, months, or even years have passed since your arrival in Outpost 3, and gods, you’d give it all right away to be back in one of the holding cells the government had put you in around the time the bombs rained down over King’s Landing.

Even though you received the status as a purple upon your arrival, therefore placing you to the upper-class elites specifically selected for survival, you couldn’t be worse off. At least there you’ve been allowed to do your own thing – as far as the confines allowed you to.

The nutritional cubes they serve you are rationed, with Ms. Misery announcing they’ll have to ration them even further in the next days, and on top of being hungry and bored, you haven’t had a good fuck in quite the while.

Sexual contact, or any kind of copulation, is strictly forbidden, and you’ve witnessed firsthand what it means to break Miserys’ rules – not that you’d make any moves on the other residents occupying the former exclusive boys school anyways.

It’s only been you and your hand, sometimes even your pillow, from the very beginning on until now, and truth be told? You’re sick of it.

At some point you’ve stopped getting yourself off, only because your body longed for physical contact, for someone else’s body on your own.

And what certainly doesn’t help with your misery is the mysterious man that arrived just a few days ago.

When he introduced himself as Targaryen, you knew his arrival was something that came partnered with power. As much as you would have liked to focus on his speech to campaign himself, you found it was far too difficult to care about humanity being on the brink of failure when the man telling you about it was so, so damn easy on the eyes.

Just the sight of his sharp features, regardless of a part of them being concealed by a black eyepatch, has been enough to make your mouth water. And when your eyes traveled lower, taking in the way his black slacks all but hugged his toned thighs, all was lost for you.

You’ve been grateful that Laenor pounced on him to be interviewed first, wanting to see if he'd be worthy enough to be relocated to the so-called sanctuary, because you certainly would have jumped Targaryens’ bones right then and there.

His alluring aura, the dominance radiating off of him – it all are factors that drive your aching body to insanity. and the nights that followed you found your relief more than once with the image of him flashing right before your eyes.

Some time has passed in which you’ve barely seen him around, only hearing of him through the stories of the other residents that have been interviewed by him; now it’s your turn to warm the large chair standing in front of the imposing Mahogany desk.

It’s the door behind you sliding open that lets your heart drop into the pit of your stomach, and you fidget with your fingers to stop yourself from turning around. You don’t want to be caught staring in the first few seconds already.

You hear your name fall past his lips so smoothly it sends a shiver down your spine. You give in to the temptation and watch him step inside with an air of mellow gratification, prowling around the desk until he eventually sits down in the empty seat across from you.

“There’s no need to be nervous,” he purrs, a glint of mischief dancing in his eye.

There comes no reply from you, instead you continue to fumble with your fingers, looking at what you assume to be your file splayed out on the desk in front of him.

It’s the dismissive hum that rumbles in his chest that finally piques your interest, and when your gaze settles on him again, you spot him touch his chin thoughtfully as his eye skimps over the pages, seeming as if he’s reading it for the first time.

The red gloves he wears stand in stark contrast to the otherwise colorless rest of his outfit, your gaze drawn to them like a moth to a flame. He has worn them upon his arrival already; the smooth leather shining in the dim light of the candles makes your mind wander to more indecent things.

He tilts his head up again to meet your gaze, his smooth and calming voice ringing out. “Your genetic profile would appear to be favorable, so you can say that this interview is solely conducted as a… precaution.” Though it’s meant to be reassuring, the deliberate pause he makes doesn’t seem convincing.

His words make you frown. “What for?” you ask, and you curse yourself for how blunt and bold your voice sounds. “Aren’t you in need of relocating the last few people that pass on good genes, now that this is the last outpost standing?”

The genuine laugh he offers you prompts you to lean back in your seat, juxtaposing the way he leans forwards in his. Something in the arrogance that radiates off of him, and the smug smirk he has on his lips, feeds your irritation.

“Doesn’t seem like you can afford to be picky,” you snap back at him.

He licks his lips, and although it’s not longer than a second, your mind immediately drifts off to think about how it would feel between your legs, how he would feel between them. You try to be subtle as you shift in your seat, barely moving enough to soothe the aching that blooms at the apex of them.

“We’re making the selections as carefully as possible,” he counters. The paper of your file is pinched between his index and thumb, rubbing it between the pads of his fingers. “We need to ensure the survival of humanity, and I’m sure you understand that we have to look for a certain level of ambition in the people we choose.”

Even though his explanation is vague, and doesn’t make much sense to you, it is strangely appealing. The word ambition is such a broad term that could mean anything from career-minded to cutthroat, yet you still have to figure out exactly what he means.

The tension grows thicker and thicker with each passing second of silence, and you feel a warm sensation spreading inside of you from his intense gaze – which is perhaps also due to the hint of desire that gleams in his eye as he regards you.

You try your best to ignore the way your heart races, wanting to diminish the warmth inside of you. But to no avail.

When he rises from his seat, your heart drops into your stomach again, and your eyes grow wide with curiosity and intrigue.

It’s a brief flicker of your eyes down his body that has you squeezing your thighs together, far too distracted by how tall he is than to notice the smug smirk that tugs at the corners of his lips.

“Would you say that you’ve… settled here?” he asks, his voice carrying a hint of something you find difficult to decipher.

He slowly stalks around the desk, the tips of his leather-clad fingers smoothly gliding over the dark wood. His eye lingers on your face, taking you in and assessing your reaction. His expression holds the same edge of darkness his voice does, though he isn’t hiding it as effectively as he thinks he is this time.

Your eyes never leave his frame when he comes to stand next to you, leaning back against the desk. He’s gripping the edge of it, and even in the dim light of the candles, you notice that it’s rather tightly, almost as if he’s suppressing the urge to touch you.

“Well, I suppose I’ve managed to adjust,” you reply.

For a brief moment, neither of you says anything. He just stares at you with this cold precision – until you catch his eye flitting lower, trailing over your form.

The purple gown you wear isn’t revealing at all, not that Ms. Misery would allow you to wear anything of that sort anyways. The neckline is squared with raised yet off-the-shoulder structured shoulders that leave little to the imagination – but only if you’ve been touch deprived for long enough.

And, judging by the way his jaw clenches as his eye meets yours again, you can tell it’s also been a while for him.

The thought of it makes your blood run hot, the warmth now spreading to your cheeks. Your gaze falls to your lap, watching your fingers fumble with each other while you feel his bore into your frame.

There’s a hum rumbling in his chest once again, but this time it sounds more like a purr, as if he finds satisfaction in your nervousness. “Are you normally this flustered in front of men… or is it just me?”

A sudden rush of excitement and embarrassment floods your veins as your mind processes his words; your head snaps back up to look at him, and you’re greeted by a teasing grin.

“I’m not flustered,” you reply, your voice only wavering slightly, yet you know that it’s clear to him that you’re not being very honest. He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on you.

He tsks, a dangerous glint in his eye. “I mean, I can see you,” he says, gesturing to you with his hand. “You’re licking your lips, you can’t meet my eyes for more than a few seconds, your cheeks are flushed – it’s clear your body yearns to be touched…” he trails off, smirking to himself as he briefly glances to the ground. “... by me.”

His statement catches you off-guard. A quick exhale from your nose leaves you feeling winded with the sensations of butterflies wreaking havoc within your body.

The silence between you lingers, heavy and thick as you ponder over his words, and you decide to go all in. You glance at him sideways, before speaking. “Is that so?”

His eye darkens at your coy demeanor, and with the corners of his quirking up into a sly smirk, he reveals just a glimpse of the devil that lurks beneath the angelic exterior. “Oh, it is,” he replies with a mocking tone. “I know you’re getting off to the thoughts of me at night, sweet thing. And even right now, you’re dripping for me. It’s almost pathetic.”

He almost seems relieved as he finally reaches to trace a gentle line over your exposed shoulder, starting at the crook of your neck. His light touch and the coldness of his gloves cause you to shiver involuntarily, and makes your breathing heavy.

As if he’s searching for something within yours, his eye narrows, and your mind races with the possibility of what such a look might signify.

“Look at you,” he purrs, licking his pouty lips. “You’re sitting here, just waiting for me to take things a step further – all the while I could smell that sweet pussy of yours ever since I’ve stepped into the room.”

Your mouth goes dry at his words, making it difficult to swallow, and you feel yourself clench around nothing; the urge to squirm in your seat is nearly overwhelming.

“That sweet scent of yours…” he trails off. Mesmerized by his words and confidence, you almost flinch when he pushes himself off the desk, slowly kneeling down to be on a level with you, hovering close to you like a predator pretending to pounce.

Your breath is heavy, and with your body still facing the desk, you’re forced to turn your head to the side to meet his gaze. There are mere inches between your faces now, and you feel his minty breath fan over your lips, swollen from how often you've licked them at this point.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, and heat follows where the cold leather of his gloves ghosted over your skin. “So desperate to be touched… to be filled,” he hums. While embarrassment blossoms inside of you, there’s no amusement laced within his silky voice. It’s as if he’s just stating facts. “Or am I mistaken?” Your name topples past his lips with so much ease, it makes you imagine how it would sound moaned by him.

Your head begins to swim. His scent, his domineering aura, the warmth emanating off of him – it’s all too much and not enough.

Meekly shaking your head, the ‘no’ you reply comes out not louder than a whisper.

He takes in a quick breath of air, relishing in his victory. The way you submit to him, to his power and dominance, feeds something within him; a hunger that’s been growing more and more demanding from the moment he stepped into the room with you.

“Good girl,” he purrs, slowly rising to his full height, stretching his fingers as he keeps his eye locked on you. A flush spreads over your cheeks at his praise, the subconscious urge to make him proud sending a shiver of excitement through your veins, feeding right into your desire to please him.

He’s standing again, letting his eye drift over your sitting frame for a moment too long, trailing down your neck, over the curves of your breasts, and settling in your lap. A gloved hand comes forward to pinch the skirts of your gown between his fingers, an almost disgusted look on his features.

“Take it off.”

“W-What?”

“W-w-what?” he mocks, the scoff he releases filling you with shame. “Take it off,” he repeats. “Or else I will take it off of you, and that won’t be any more pleasant.”

The thought of him undressing you seems tempting. A small part of you wants to protest, to say something along the lines of ‘you can’t just demand something like this’ but the other part craves this. It feels as if it’s quintessential for your body to survive, not able to go one day longer without being touched at all.

Rising to your feet, you smooth out the skirts of your dress before craning your neck to look up at him. He’s towering over you, hardly stepping back far enough to create any space for you to undress.

Having always been a bit of a pain to put on, getting out of the dress was even worse. The tight fit and squared neckline leaves you with very limited mobility, meaning you’re always relying on a servant to help you get out of it. And facing these difficulties, the thought of removing it all by yourself, especially in front of him, seems almost sacrilegious.

A thought pops into your mind, and your body is quick enough to get through with it before you can even think about it properly.

“Care to help me?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at him. Before he can refuse, you brush your hair over one shoulder and turn around, presenting him with your back and the tightly laced corset.

Much to your surprise, he doesn’t refuse, and you say nothing as his fingers find the lacing of your corset, gloves brushing your skin as he slowly undos the laces.

It’s a slow process, one that builds anticipation within you, and has you squeezing your thighs together yet again.

His caresses are light and careful at first, but they grow increasingly firm and forceful. Each tug and pull draws you closer to him, and only when you hear the same dismissive hum rumbling in his chest do you dare to glimpse at him from over your shoulder, seeing him staring at your back with his jaw set with a new purpose.

The fabric is still pinched between his fingers when they suddenly change course, gripping the purple fabric around the lace with a bit more force than necessary. He rips open the corset in a single, harsh motion in a clear display of his impatience, the torn fabric hitting the ground with a thud, and your gown quickly follows suit.

For a moment, you feel relief at being freed from its confines. But it’s fleeting, your skin immediately prickling as you become aware of how much of your body is exposed to him now.

It’s weird to think that this thin layer of modesty has been enough to keep your fluttering nerves at bay, and now it’s peeled away with you knowing he’s gazing at you as if he’s been served his first meal in months.

Easing your trembling legs, you hold onto the desk for support. It feels like an eternity as you crouch forward slightly to steady your uneven breathing, the moment only breaking as he advances towards you, his body leaning against yours and pressing you up against the desk. It’s the only thing keeping you upright, and the moment you feel his hot breath caress your neck, your legs feel like they are about to give in.

His thigh slips between yours, but you can’t feel his hands on your body, assuming he’s clasped them behind his back or kept them at his sides. You can tell that his chest isn’t the only firm thing that presses against your body, his cock rock hard and all but straining against your lower back, clearly finding as much pleasure in the situation as you do.

His proximity is all you’ve thought of for the past days, yet it’s not enough. You need his hands, him, to feel thoroughly satisfied. The urge to whine scratches in your throat, but you manage to swallow it at the last moment.

“Beg for me to touch you,” he drawls, voice laced with a mixture of excitement and hunger.

Exhaling a strained breath, you close your eyes. “P-Please,” you whimper, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Please… touch me. It’s been so long.”

“Hm.” You hear it loud and clear, the amusement, the satisfaction, causing your skin to heat up. “That’s all you’ve got?”

You tip your head back in frustration, meeting with his shoulder, a loud huff slipping past your lips. But you’re so close to getting what you want, there’s no way you’re giving up already.

“Please, please touch me… Mr. Targaryen.” His name is spoken with a bit of hesitation. “I-I- please, fuck, need it so, so bad. Please.” That you’re not stomping your feet on the ground like an insolent child is everything, knowing it would push your chance for relief further away.

But it seems to do the trick, because one gloved hand settles on your hip without him saying anything, while the other clasps around the outside of your thigh, his thumb brushing smooth patterns over your hot skin.

He drags his nose along the side of your face, his breath tickling your skin, and you slightly turn your head to lean into it. “Where else do you want me to touch, mh?”

Feeling him on every inch of your body has you far too aroused to be frustrated by his on-going teasing and stalling. “Right…” you pant, peeling his hand from your hip to bring it down between your legs, “... here.”

A quiet whine slips past your lips as his fingers make contact with your sensitive clit, the cold leather of his gloves against your hot skin striking you as a welcome surprise and sending a shiver down your spine. It feels foreign, but nice nevertheless.

You’ve fully anticipated him to pull back again, to leave you high and dry, but he surprises you again, when he drags his fingers through your swollen folds.

“Right here, mh?” he purrs into your ear with a husky voice.

It’s a grazing touch that alone is enough to make your mind hazy, merely humming in return.

He’s not doing more than rubbing your clit and brushing his digits through your folds, but you’re wet enough already for it to be audible. The squelching sounds coming from between your legs are embarrassing, clearly highlighting your desperation for him, and it only gets worse when he slips a finger inside of you.

Taking in a sharp breath, you hold onto the desk again. “God, fuck,” you whine.

His finger is thick enough to be accompanied with a slight burning stretch, intensifying the moment he adds another. You can’t resist the urge to grind against his hand, the base of it applying just enough pressure to your clit to numb any discomfort.

“You like that, mh?” he rasps. “So fucking wet and desperate for my fingers, dripping all over my glove.”

A string of whiny yesses leaves your lips as the pace of his fingers increases, making it incredibly difficult for your hips to maintain the rhythm.

Heavy breaths and pants fan over your flushed skin, spurring you on and bringing you closer to the sweet relief you’ve craved for so long. He seems to sense your impending orgasm, and works you just a moment longer, before he withdraws his fingers from you, making sure the loss would make it even worse.

But there’s no time to whine.

“Look at the mess you’ve made,” he teases, acting as if he’s completely oblivious to the torture he puts you through, and brings his gloved hand up to your face.

The red leather is covered in your arousal, sticky and glistening even in the dim light. As he spreads the two fingers, a few strings of it connect the leather, and you bite your bottom lip, knowing all too well what might follow.

“Open your mouth, pet,” he commands in a stern voice. “Clean up your mess.”

And you comply, parting your lips and eagerly embracing him pushing them inside. Your tongue swirls around the digits, the leather tasting and feeling completely different on your tongue.

You hardly notice that his other hand has left your thigh, and even less that he’s undoing the zipper of his slacks, pulling out his hard cock. Only when you feel the pressure against your entrance do your eyes widen, and you whine around his fingers as he pushes inside.

Even though you are stretched from his digits, it can not compare to his cock.

He’s filling you to the brim in one, swift thrust, and with you being gagged by his gloved fingers, you can’t do more than mewl and moan. “Fuck, tight cunt taking my cock, hm? That’s it, such a good, little pet.”

Not giving you the chance to adjust to his size, he sets up a reckless pace from the very start, his impatience running thin with the way your tightness embraces him. He fucks you as if it’s a one time thing, as if you won’t make the cut, but something inside of you tells you this is merely the beginning.

Saliva trickles down your chin as his cock drives deeper and deeper, forcing moan after moan past your lips and his gloved fingers. It’s the sounds of skin slapping against skin, his strained grunts and your muffled whines filling the room, and if Ms. Misery were to find out, you would be tortured or killed even before the next day arrived.

Maybe it’s the risk of being caught that drives him to his next step, but he withdraws his fingers from your mouth, gloved hand coming down to rest around your throat instead. He applies just a bit of pressure, merely meaning to hold you upright and steady to make it easier for him to use you to his liking.

You scramble for hold, sweaty palms planted flatly on the wooden surface in front of you, supporting yourself as the man behind you all but fucked every coherent thought out of your brain.

“Look at you,” he grunts, pounding into your needy cunt. The tip of his cock brushes your sweet spot, pushing high enough to knock the air out of your lungs and make you lose yourself. “All you’ve been thinking about was my cock. So desperate to be fucked by me, huh?”

You are so full with him, his scent, his warmth, everything, that breathy whines and yesses are the only things slipping past your lips.

He drags his nose along the side of your face, clearly relishing in the way he’s fucked you dumb with so little effort already, and you almost feel yourself come on spot the moment he presses his lips to your earlobe.

Pushing his hips all the way into yours, he stills them for a moment, bringing up a gloved hand to spit on his fingers and before dragging them harshly over your sensitive clit, and putting you straight into a frenzy.

The tears that were brimming in your eyes now spill and run down your flushed cheeks, hitting the desk he has you hunched over.

“No need to cry, pet,” the man behind you drawls, a satisfaction weaved in his husky voice. “You wanted this, didn't you? Wanted my cock to fuck you stupid? Or do you want me to stop?”

Your blank mind barely processes his words, but just hearing the word stop has you finding your voice again. “N-no,” you whine, arching your back and pressing your ass back against him. “Don’t-don’t stop, Sir. ‘M so, so close.”

“Close, mh? Then fucking come for me.”

With his hand now applying a good bit of pressure to your throat and his fingers strumming your clit in a reckless pattern, you feel yourself getting lightheaded as your release hits you suddenly.

His strained groans are hushed against your neck as you spasm around him, sucking him in hungrily. He works you through it, fucking you as you quiver and shake. Grinding against him, you ride your high out in rhythm with his thrusts, gasping each time his cock pistones inside of you.

His hips falter slightly for a moment, caught off guard by how tightly your walls are squeezing him, but he regains his composure and sets up a brutal pace again. You’re swollen and raw by now, but he doesn't stop.

“That’s it, fuck, I’m gonna get this pathetic cunt stuffed with my cum,” he grunts, pulling his hand from your clit to plant it on your hip.

Each rut of his hips makes your eyes journey to the ceiling, the tears on your cheeks now dry. There are hiccuped breaths spilling from your mouth, and you can’t do more than to hold onto the desk, bracing yourself for his relentless pounding.

With a stutter of his hips and a raspy groan escaping his throat, his cock eventually spills deep inside of you, coating your walls. He fucks it into you with deliberately slow thrusts, the last spurts of his warm release filling you to the brim.

A strained groan is audible as he pulls out, tucking himself back in his slacks, and assumes the cold demeanor he’s had before. The only courtesy he grants you is picking up your dress and underwear he’s torn off you before, holding it out for you to take.

You get the cue, and dress yourself on trembling legs. The blonde watches curiously, leaning back against the desk again. The red gloves now lay on the desk, and you catch a glimpse of his long, ring-clad fingers.

With flushed cheeks, you briefly look at the ground before presenting him your back again. “Do you mind?”

He nods and steps towards you, silently lacing up your corset, and whenever his skin brushes yours, a shiver runs down your spine. His skin is soft, smooth even, and the warmth emanating from them is far more pleasant than the cold leather.

But the moment is fleeting as he quickly moves to sit down behind his desk again, a new file already pinched between his fingers. You smoothen out the skirt of your dress, merely bowing your head once, and make a beeline for the door.

It’s his voice ringing out that stops you in your tracks, though you don’t dare to turn around.

“I expect you to come back for your second interview tomorrow. See it as an opportunity for me to gauge whether or not you truly have the right… ambition.”

“Thank you, Mr. Targaryen,” you mumble in return, a strange sense of satisfaction and anticipation already coursing through your veins.

Hearing your name once again, you turn your head to look at him. “There’s no need to be formal when it’s just us. You can call me Aemond.”

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eddiesxangel · 2 months

Text

Stockholm Syndrom | Eddie Munson x Succubus!Reader

cw: contains darker themes so if you don’t feel comfy don’t read it. obsessive behaviours, mind control, magic, religion (nothing specific) demon!reader, cnc? (the demon controls Eddie in a way) seduction, submissive Eddie, female!demon, descriptions of the reader as a demon, p in v, oral, mild suffocation, dirty talk, cream pie, cum eating, biting, breeding!kink? (Idk reader needs cum to survive)

WC: 3.7k

Eddie was abruptly awoken in the middle of the night and felt like something was off. He looked at the clock and saw that it was exactly 3:33am. He felt a burning sensation all over his skin like he was being pricked by tiny needles. He checked his temperature, but it was normal. He felt like his clothes were suffocating him and had an intense urge to take them off. They felt unusually tight and itchy as if they were made of a different material. Eddie couldn't shake the feeling that something was different, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

As Eddie slowly regained consciousness, he noticed a peculiar smell lingering in the air of his room. It was a heady aroma, almost as if a candle had been blown out, yet none had been lit in his room for quite some time. He couldn't quite put his finger on the scent, but it was unusual and piqued his curiosity. As he lay there, his senses slowly coming back to him, he found himself increasingly intrigued by the mysterious fragrance.

He shuffled in his bed; taking his clothes off, he noticed a dim red light glowing from his closet. The more Eddie stared, the more he became hypnotized.

He wasn’t scared like he should have been. It was way too similar to the gates of The Upsidedow, but Eddie knew this was different. He felt a strange calmness and urge to go closer. He sat up, swung his feet over the edge of the bed, and suddenly everything returned to normal.

The shock in temperature jolted Eddie back into the confines of his warm bed. The February air seeped through the thin window pane of the new trailer that was graciously given by the government when his uncle was split in half during the “earthquake.”

He immediately went back to sleep, essentially forgetting about the whole experience until it happened again the next night.

3:33am, hot skin, smell of smoke, warm red light filling the closet, the need to discard his pyjama pants and boxers, but once he stood it all went away and Eddie was none the wiser.

For a week, this kept repeating, and it was no different tonight. 3:33am, hot, smoke, naked, but only this time Eddie stayed put in his bed. He had a feeling, seeded deep within him, not to move.

Eddie dared not to move, staring intently at the closet door. The trailer was empty but him; his room was dark, with only a faint red light inside the closet illuminating a small area around it. As he watched, the dim red glow started to grow brighter, casting a deeper orange hue throughout the room. The sight completely captivated him and couldn't take his eyes off the radiant light. He was so engrossed that he almost forgot to blink, and he continued to watch as the glow inside the closet continued to intensify.

Dry eyes travelled across the ceiling and down the walls, following the warm glow. Eddie's heart raced, but he wasn't panicked; he was excited to see what would emerge behind the sliding doors. Then, a shuffle emerged as if the clothes hung in the rack were being moved.

Eddie watched intently, waiting for something to happen. It felt like hours when it was merely seconds.

Then, out of the glow, slowly, the closet door slid inch by inch, your hand wrapped meticulously around the edge of the door, smirking to yourself that this silly little man finally let you out of your confines.

Your long, pointed, black nails tapped one by one against the plastic of the door before pushing it open with little effort, making the door rattle and shake against the track.

Typically Eddie would have let out a scream at the sudden loud noise but your aura was calming, almost soothing, like he didn’t have control over his emotions.

A sudden rush of blood traveled from Eddie’s heart to his cock, he hasn’t even seen you yet but all he could think about was how unbelievably turned on he was all of a sudden.

Eddie’s breathing increased as he watched the closet intently. He was frozen as his naked body lay there, cock growing hard by the second, but he knew he shouldn’t touch himself, not yet. If he waited, he would get rewarded. And god did he want to be rewarded.

You thought you’d teased your little play toy enough that you slinked one leg out, you were barefoot, lacquered black toes nails were the first thing Eddie saw, next was your dark red skin. Your smooth, thick leg stepped out from the door, and then your wide hip that bore only a dark loin cloth came into view.

You’ve waited, watched, and studied him for days to ensure he was the right fit.

You liked them slightly inexperienced, needy, desperate; you knew you could get him to beg for it, to feed you. The life of a succubus is not easy, especially for you when you have a certain type.

Eddie watched intently as you slowly exited the closet, fully showing yourself to your next target.

“W-who are you?” Eddie scanned your body, your long hair was covering your large breasts and the loin cloth was only covering so much of your middle. He was so transfixed on your naked skin that it took him a second to see your face, your beautiful face.

Your skin was a deep red; you had two blackened horns that curved up and over your head. Blacked-out wide eyes and full black lips. You opted to keep your wings and tail hidden as they would only get in the way.

“You’re asking the wrong questions, big boy,” you purred.

Eddie agreed as he took in your swollen breasts and thick thighs, your scary but intoxicating attributes, Eddie’s wet dream. He was but a stupid boy, mere human in the presence of a…you were… well Eddie had no idea but you were everything out of his wildest fantasy.

“I’m Eddie,” he introduced himself.

This made you giggle.

“I know you who you are Eddie” you purred again, slowly making your way towards his bed, your eyes locking in on what you needed from him most.

Eddie watched as your snake-like forked tongue licked your blackened lips, catching the white fangs that resembled that of a vampire’s.

“Why are you here?” Eddie spoke confidently.

“You want me to tell you? Or would you like me to show you?” You crawled onto the bed on all fours and hovered over the human. His wide eyes didn’t blink, and you moved above him. Your sharp pointed nail traced his alabaster skin on his cheekbones. A shiver ran through Eddie as this creature above him seduced him into submission.

“S-show me” he stammered.

“Good boy” you smiled showing your sharp teeth before taking his mouth on your own. Your leg swung over his hip to rest your naked pussy lips on top his already painfully hard length that was laying flat against his stomach.

A loud groan escaped Eddie’s throat as he moaned into your mouth. You rocked your hips over his cock only three times and before Eddie knew what he was happening, he was cumming.

“Oh my god oh my god” he was so embarrassed, how could this be happening?

“Mmmmm, that didn’t take long to get what I wanted.” You smirk before slinking down his body to collect the white hot cum that was leaking across his bare abdomen.

Eddie watched as your long wet tongue collected his seed, and he swore he was about to cum again just watching you enjoy yourself.

“I’m sorry I- I- I”

“Don’t worry big boy, l’ll be back for more” you wipe off the corner of your lip and walk back into your tiny portal without another word.

"Wait! What? Who?" Eddie stood up to chase after you but you're were gone.

What the fuck just happened? Eddie came from a make out and a dry hump and you, then you just disappeared?

The clock read 8:26am, causing confusion to Eddie, who was taken aback by how quickly time had passed. He wondered if he had dozed off and immediately awoken or had never been awake?

However, the only plausible explanation was that he must have had an exceptionally vivid dream. The kind of dream that felt real, right down to the last detail. The kind of dream that leaves you questioning what was real and what wasn't. Eddie couldn't shake off the feeling that he was still in the grips of that dream, and reality was just beyond his reach.

The whole day, Eddie couldn’t focus. His thoughts were all about you; he was consumed by you. Whatever you were?

Eddie had been gripped by a feverish obsession, unable to tear himself away from his room. He spent his days in a state of constant vigilance, scanning every corner and every shadow, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Each morning, as soon as he woke up, he would rush to the closet, tearing through the clothes in a frenzied search for any sign of your presence. He tore apart the shelves, looking for hidden doors, false walls, any clue that might lead him to you. But despite his tireless efforts, he found nothing, and his search continued without end. Everything was underwhelmingly ordinary.

Disappointment flooded Eddie as the hours passed, and you didn’t show up. But Eddie held onto hope that you would come back.

Wayne eventually started getting worried by day three when Eddie didn’t leave the room.

Three days and you weren’t back. He was held prisoner by his own thoughts and memories of you. He was convincing himself that it was just a vivid dream, but something in the back of his mind he knew was real.

He obsessively drew every exquisite detail of you, capturing every curve and line with care. He eagerly incorporated you into his Dungeons and Dragons campaigns, weaving your seduction into the magical world he had created.

As he worked to clean up the garage where he spent his days, he often found himself lost in thoughts of you, imagining your body and the sound of your voice. He couldn't resist the urge to doodle you on the workstations, bringing you to life in his own small way. He even started writing song lyrics about you, even though there was very little to go off of. It was like he couldn’t escape; you were a shadow holding him hostage. You were a whisper telling him he would never get away, and he didn’t want to.

You were now his whole world and he would do everything to try and get you back.

Eddie had been stranded in your world for three long weeks. He spent every night trying his best to stay awake, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. However, despite his best efforts, he would eventually succumb to sleep, and every morning, he would wake up feeling disappointed and frustrated.

The passing days seemed endless, and Eddie grew increasingly desperate to find a way back to his regular life. His friends noticed a change in him, he was adgitated, not wanting to talk to anyone, he only wanted you back.

Tonight was no different, Eddie watched and waiting for the light to guide him back to you. But he was exhausted, hardly getting any sleep for the past three weeks. He passed out on his bed extra early, not even seven in the evening and was out like a light.

3:33am. Eddie gasped awake like all the other times, he smelled the burnt out candel, the room temperature changed. Eddie stripped himself of all his clothing as quickly as possible and lay still, hoping and praying to whatever dark angel that you were to come to visit him once again.

The room's glow brightened as you passed through your realm to Eddie's. You could hear his heart pumping faster as you got closer. You missed your little toy, but your hunger had been satiated, and you wanted to be greedy; it was fun to tease this human.

"Did you miss me?" You ask as you step out of the portal.

"Yes," Eddie quickly answered, sitting up against the headboard.

"Good boy." You praised as you saw he was already hard for you, not that he had much choice.

"What are you?" Eddie bravely asks.

"I'm a succubus, isn't it obvious?" you cock your head.

"What's your name?" he questions as you approach the bed.

"Nice try, you're smart Eddie, you know I can't give you that." You sit on his lap like you had that first night.

"What can I call you then?" He watches you trail your sharp claws along his chest as you hypnotize Eddie with your beauty.

"Don't worry about that" you cup his chin in your dark crimson palm, tilting his head up to yours so you can taste his lips. No human before him had tasted quite like this. You've been around for thousands of years, but something was different about this one.

"What do you want?" Eddie pulled away breathlessly.

"For you to stop talking. I'm starving." Your forked tongue licked a wet strip up from Eddie's collarbone to his ear before Eddie spoke again.

"But I thought you said you were hungry?" he stupidly asked, like he was about to get you something from the kitchen.

"Exactly." you deadpaned. Annoyed that he was still questioning what was happening.

Oh.

Most men you find and haunt are more than ready and willing. You thought this one was. You watched him fro weeks waiting for your return, making sure he had become obsessed with you, and he had. But now he was prolonging his own pleasure, and you were getting hangry.

"I want your cock Eddie. Will you give it to me?" your saccharine voice pleaded as you ground your bare wet warm pussy over Eddie's cock.

Eddie found himself agreeing immediately without thinking about what that could mean.

"Good boy." You grip eddie's wrists, making sure not to scartch him with your claws before bringing his hands up your your full perked breasts. You flipped your long black hair over your shoulders exposing your nipples to the man benieth you.

"Holy shit," you hear him whimper under you.

"Oh, yes, Eddie, touch me" You fling your head back at the feeling of his hard cock graze against your clit, rocking your hips along his cock just like the last time.

This time, you may have placed a little spell on Eddie for him to last longer. You needed to have fun too, It has been too long and you were only a succubus after all, you can't help yourself.

"Oh my god youre so amazing" Eddie praised.

"We havn't even started yet, hunny" you cooed as you pressed his face into your breasts while still grinding your hips down on his shaft trying to chase your orgasm.

You stick your thin tongue in his mouth and explore his taste more. He was smoky just how you liked and earthy and a little minty.

Thank god your little spell worked because if you were on your brink of coming undone Eddie sure would’ve been long gone by now and your fun would have been over before it had started.

“Mmmmmmm Eddie you’re making me feel so good” you praised as his hands explored your body.

His calloused fingers graised your deep cherry skin, he timidly groped a fist full of your ass before you let out a moan of pleasure as his hands explored more of your body, tugging at the only piece of clothing you wore it slipped off effortlessly.

“More,” Eddie moaned into your mouth.

“You want me to sit on your face, pretty boy?” It was like you could read his mind… maybe you could.

You tuck his wild hair behind his ears before he excitedly nods his head yes before laying back for you.

“Anything for you” Eddie was at your mercy, all he wanted was to please you, to worship you, to have you, all of you.

“Mmmmmmm, my sweet, sweet boy,” you swing each knee around Eddie’s head so they are planted beside each ear.

Eddie wraps his hands around your plush thighs pulling your full weight onto his face an dyou feel not feeling a once of guilt about suffocating him. What a way to go.

Eddie couldn’t believe how you could taste so good, so sweet. It was a miracle he hadn’t come already, an act of god…or demon.

“Fuck you’re good at this for a human” you hummed as your pelvis grinds into on Eddie’s lips. His tongue was working wonders as it entered in and out of your tight hole. You were riding his face, and he was loving every minute of it.

Closer and closer and closer, you were feeling the waves of pleasure consume you, your orgasm gushing into Eddie’s tongue as he lapped at you like a wild animal who hadn’t seen water in weeks.

After a moment of taking in your bliss you sit up off Eddie’s face giving him a change to breathe.

You hear a gasp of air as your thighs unravelled from Eddie’s face. You look down to make sure you didn’t accidentally kill him but when you looked down his eyes told you he wasn’t experiencing anything but pure bliss.

He deserved a reward for pleasuring you so well so you crawl down his body to return the favour.

“Oh god!” Eddie cries as your serpent tongue forked around the head of his leaking cock.

“We don’t speak of him,” you pop back up fully serious.

“Nonononono I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Eddie pleaded reaching out for you before you could disappear, you forgave him. He didn’t know, he was a silly little human and you were still starving.

“I forgive you” and you do by showing him how your warm wet mouth could take all of hick cock. For a human he has the prefect sized cock for you. Not so small, not too tick, and you know it would fill and stretch you so good, you couldn’t wait.

Incoherent murmurs were leaving Eddie’s mouth as you bobbed, licked and lapped at his hard length.

“Fuck! Oh, baby! I'll never leave if you keep holding me this way…. Oh, shit, look what you’ve done to me…” Eddie didn’t even know he was speaking as he was so drunk over you. You could tell he was a blubbering disaster so close to coming. No matter how much magic you had over him, the power of an orgasm was always stronger.

“How do you want me, Eddie? Tell me”

“Don’t care” He shook his head no.

“You want me to ride you? You want to show me how man you are by having me under you? You want to fuck me so hard and fast my face will be imprinted into the mattress? You wanna stick it in my ass?” You trail your fingers down to your clit, getting wet again, just thinking about all the fun ways you could have with Eddie.

“All of the above!” Eddie grabs you to get closer to him, so he can kiss you. Everything within Eddie is telling him to ravage you.

“Don’t worry my pet, this won’t be the last time you see me, you taste too good to let go just yet” you twirl a tangled chocolate wave around your talon.

“Thank go-odnees” eddie stuttered and you smirk at your silly human before pushed him down, needing him now. Your hunger ravished you; it was taking over your control.

Eddie shuffles quickly before guiding your wide hips down over his weeping cock. He watches as your hot red pussy envelopes him like you were made for it. And you were. Your body can shape itself to be made for whoever you are with.

“Made f’me” Eddie moaned as your hot wet demon cunt slips over him, wrapping him in the most pleasure he has ever felt.

“You like my tight demon pussy baby?”

“Fuckin squeezing me so good!”

“You gunna let me milk your cock big boy?” your pussy flutters around his bare cock.

“Yes, fuck yes, please, I need to cum in you.”

“Stuff me full, baby!” You picked up the pace as you started bouncing up and down on his cock.

Eddie was hypnotized by the way your breasts bounced up and down as your magic was starting to wear off, the need for Eddie to cum was all consuming.

“Need your cum!” You cried as you throw yourself forwards to sink your fangs into Eddie’s neck as you broke the spell, his hot deep spurted up deep inside you.

As soon as his cum hit your cervix, your own orgasm unleashed, forcing you to cry out as your pussy fed. Your body suctioned up every last drop from Eddie, draining his cock dry.

“Holy shit” Eddie lay there, breathless even if you’ve done all the work.

“Good boy,” you sit up to go. You got what you came for.

“Don’t leave, I love you.”

“Oh my silly, silly boy” was the last thing you said before disappearing into thin air.

Eddie couldn’t believe what just happened. He lay in bed, drained in all aspects, for hours. He was dazed and confused and not in the way he usually was.

The only thing that broke him out of the haze was the knock at the door of Wayne asking him to help him out front of the yard.

Eddie's eyes flickered open, feeling disoriented and a little confused. He tried to brush off the strange interaction with you as if it were just a very vivid dream. He slowly exited the bed, stretched his arms and legs, and went to the bathroom. The cold tiles of the bathroom floor sent a shiver up his spine, but he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that was lingering in his mind.

Eddie turned on the shower, letting the water cascade down on him, washing away the last remnants of sleep. He lathered up with soap and shampoo, taking his time to enjoy the warmth of the water. After he was done, he reached for his toothbrush and toothpaste, scrubbing his teeth clean until they gleamed.

As the steam cleared from the mirror, Eddie glanced up and froze. There, on his neck, were two small puncture holes that he couldn't explain. It was the only evidence that last night had actually happened.

He belonged to you, his Dark Angel.

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#eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #Eddie Munson x demon!reader #Eddie Munson x succubus!reader #Eddie Munson x supernatural!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie Munson x 1D crossover #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson #Spotify

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dramioneasks · 4 months

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Top 10 Most “Kudos-ed” (Completed) Fics on AO3 of 2023:

Damaged Goods by slytherin_after_dark - E, 50 chapters, Words: 150,499 - Hermione, now in her mid-20s, is back at Hogwarts to pursue higher education. Trying to forget the trauma carved into her by the war, she spends one lust-filled night with a certain pureblood. But that night will have consequences. While her personal life unravels, a string of mysterious murders forces her to work together with Draco Malfoy, who himself seems to carry many secrets. "He scared her. Not because he wielded killing curses like they were nothing, but because he seemed to understand her in a way that even she didn’t. The more she let him in, the more power he had to destroy her." Come for the smut, stay for the plot. Read if you like: - Murder mystery - Dark Arts - Hurt/ Comfort - Hermione and Draco both deal with PTSD - Angst, so much angst

In These Silent Days by HeyJude19 - E, 14 chapters, Words: 67,209 -Hermione is familiar with fighting: for respect, for attention, for justice. She’s even made a career of it; working on behalf of creatures and beings. But her battle against the Ministry’s marriage law is one she loses. Badly. And now, she has to contend with not only public derision and patriarchal politics, but her growing feelings for her government-mandated spouse.

The Silver Envelope by sinflower81 - E, 70 chapters, Words: 192,647 - “Tell me again to release you, Granger. Tell me again that you just want to be friends.” It’s been five years since Draco last spoke to Granger. Things are different now, and though earning her trust will be a challenge, he can’t seem to keep himself away. Hermione has been busy advocating for elves around the world, but when her breakup with Ron turns her life upside-down, she knows there’s only one person who can help her. Alternating POVs between Hermione and Draco. Slow burn, eventual smut, light dom/sub. Diverges from canon after Voldemort's defeat.

In Silence & Submission by gillianeliza - E, 29 chapters, Words: 69,694 - 10 years after the war everything has changed. Enemies turned into friends and lovers. Fear turned into hope. Pain into joy. Everyone has moved on except for Hermione Granger. Nestled within her friend group, now made up of not just Harry and Ginny, but also Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and of course Draco Malfoy, she was content to allow the trauma of her past to haunt her. More than just content - it was what she felt she deserved - until one evening Draco Malfoy decided enough was enough. This is a low stakes, split POV fic that deals heavily with life AFTER the Battle of Hogwarts. You will find the POV of either Hermione or Draco stated in bold italics, in the middle whenever it shifts. Please read all tags as this work deals with BDSM, kink, trauma recovery, & suicidal ideation.

A Game of High Stakes by In_Dreams - E, 51 chapters, Words: 263,110 - In theory, the task is simple: kill Draco Malfoy. In practice, putting a curse through the Dark Lord's favoured lieutenant will take everything Hermione has―especially since he's trying to kill her, too. Even more so when the lines between them start to blur. Sometimes, the only way out is through.

Hogwarts: A History (Hermione's Version) by Lizzie_carlile - M, 38 chapters, Words: 141,828 - Lord Voldemort has been defeated, and the children of the Wizarding War are thriving. When the heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black is adopted and takes her place in the family with her loving fathers, a new trio is formed. With her best friend and her brother by her side, Hermione Black is thrust into a world that she never knew existed. Will whispers from the past threaten to destroy the world she knows? Or will love once again conquer all? Another take of the Nice Things AU. What would happen if Draco asked Hermione to the Yule Ball before Ron Weasley had a chance to?

Teach Me How to Forget by scullymurphy - E, 20 chapters, Words: 109,646 - Hermione Granger is 27 years old when her life falls apart. Cheated-on, flatless, fed up with her job, she decides to change one thing she can--take a class and try for some career advancement. But change is never easy, especially when an old enemy is the catalyst. And the class instructor. "Just as the minute hand clicked over to the hour, the doorknob twisted and a figure slipped into the room. He was tall, a bit windblown. Hermione had a general impression of crisp cuffs and polished leather, and then a more specific one of the most beautiful grey coat—highlighting his shoulders and eyes, skimming to just the right place on his knife creased trousers. His movements were precise and confident. He was wearing the softest-looking gloves. He was not Professor Belinda Rowle. He was Draco bloody Malfoy."

The Order of Serpents by bl_crtz - E, 44 chapters, Words: 193,506 - During the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter walked into the forbidden forest, died, and walked out with crimson eyes as the new vessel of the Dark Lord. Since then, Hermione Granger served as an elite member of the True Order, isolating herself from other Order members and going on missions alone, not only haunted by the loss of her best friend, Harry, but Ron who had run away after the battle. Three and a half years later, Draco Malfoy shows up with his two year old son on the Order’s doorstep seeking to switch sides. Together, Draco and Hermione are forced to deal with not only each other, but their own past and confront who they’ve become because of the war.

The Contender by rubykrishna - E, 9 chapters, Words: 58,875 - Hermione stopped walking. Her eyes scanned back up the roster until they found the name that she initially mistook for a typo. Draco Malfoy….Beater. She could comprehend the words, the name and the meaning. She understood that his name being on the roster meant he was the starting Beater for England’s national team, but for whatever reason, when her eyes ran over the black ink, her brain could not articulate any emotions or reaction.

Sincerely Yours by LovesBitca8 - E, 10 chapters, Words: 40,759 - A smile tickled the corners of Hermione’s mouth as she clicked Send. She listened to the whoosh of the message and then turned off her computer. When the ping! had come in, she’d had one foot half-out the door of her flat. She’d dropped her coat and darted for her computer desk, a wide grin blossoming at her inbox. You’ve Got Mail.

#dramione #year wrap up #ao3 #favourite fics #2023

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ann1-wr1tes · 3 months

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Catch these hands!

Synopsis: Leon is your mentor. At first he was apprehensive and not too happy about it. But now he realizes he may like you more than he thought..

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1,382

A/N: So here's another repost. Hope you all enjoy!!

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You pant as you shift your stance from foot to foot. Sweat dripped from your brow and down the back of your neck as your eyes narrowed in concentration and slight nervousness as the man in front of you seemed to not even break a sweat.

Then again you weren't surprised. It was Leon Kennedy we're talking about here. So of course it looked like he was having just another normal Tuesday but for you, a rookie that was new to the D.S.O, you could feel your anxiety creep up your spine. You'd be lying if you said that your mentor didn't make you a little nervous.

Since the first moment you met Leon you knew about his history with the government and the D.S.O. He started off as a rookie cop in Raccoon city, survived a horrible outbreak, then got recruited to the D.S.O where he very quickly became a huge name and even saved the President's daughter. Of course now he is different. He is older and more jaded.

You can tell by the way he carries himself, how he always has some sort of bottle in his hand that holds an alcoholic beverage, how his eyes look at you but at the same time it looks like he's looking right through you. It was a distant look that was glassy and dull.

You could also tell that he didn't intend on ever having to mentor anyone. Though that changed when the agency decided that Leon could use a little side project, a little distraction from all the harsh missions he was assigned to. So you were dumped on him.

Despite all the alcohol he drank and how he didn't take care of himself in the least bit, you could see that there was someone lying under the surface that would peak out every once in a while. You could see this mystery person every time you improved in a skill or took some of his advice and applied it to your learning.

It was almost enough to make your flutter when you'd turn to find him looking at you with an endearing smile. Though it wouldn't last long and he'd soon be back to his scowling grimace that seemed to be permanently stuck on his face. Despite this, the small smiles you'd catch him flashing in the corner of your eye or the small chuckle that escaped his lips on occasion was enough to make you want to learn more from him, learn more about him.

But right now you were learning hand-to-hand combat. Sparring to be specific.

You remember when you had first started to spar with Leon. It was nothing short of being humiliating. You'd swing one and he'd already have you twisted around and pinned to the floor. You'd try to catch him by surprise, he was always two steps ahead of you. It was almost like he could read your thoughts, like he could expect just exactly what your next move was.

As time went by you slowly improved but it was never enough to beat Leon and while it was frustrating and a little intimidating at times you took it all in stride.

"Don't take your eyes off me." Leon warned as he lunged forward towards you. "And don't forget what I taught you."

He pulled back slightly before making a sudden swing at you. You blocked it easily, blocking the other attacks coming your way. His strikes were quick and precise, always with no hesitation. Its like it was all second nature to him, his body moved instinctively with his mind. It was like a dance. But he never showed any emotion. It was always hardened stares and pursed lips.

As Leon throws another punch you grab his wrist and twist, trying to force him to the ground with a wrist lock. In response Leon yanks his wrist forward, pulling you along with it and as soon as you collide with his chest he spins you around and has an arm wrapped around your throat.

Quickly you tap his upper arm, signalling that you give up and he lets go. He releases your neck and backs up to keep a distance between both of you, watching you carefully, his arms folded across his chest. You take a deep breath as you wipe your face of the sweat.

"Again." He says. And without missing a beat you take a defensive position ready to attack and begin again.

This continued on until you reached your limits, your stamina dwindling rapidly and your movements slowed considerably due to exhaustion. Still, you were determined to win.

Leon waits for you this time. His eyes are trained on yours, waiting for an attack as he prowls around you slowly. As you reach to strike the first blow you watch a faint grin appear on his lips and then suddenly he lunges. The next thing you know you feel yourself fly forward, hit the mat hard, and then Leon is on top of you.

Struggling to get to your knees, you shove Leon off of you before he can pin you and you settle yourself on your knees, having both hands out ready to block or grip his wrists or a hand.

Leon goes to grip the collar of your shirt and he tugs you forward. He twists you around so you lay on your back and then goes to pin your wrists. Your mind scrambles to try to find a way out until suddenly a light bulb goes off in your head.

You buck your hips up and arch your back up, causing Leon to stumble forward and almost on top of you. Thinking quickly you hook a leg around his and you shift your weight, pushing him and you to the side so you can roll on top of him.

As soon as his back hits the mat you straddle him and plant your forearm right against his neck, making it a little hard to breathe and even harder to escape when you plant your foot down on his other hand to ensure it stays down.

You look into his blue gaze with determination and he gives you a smile. There it is. There's that pretty sight that you rarely get to see.

A rare smile directed solely at you. It almost makes your heart flutter but you have to remind yourself that he's your mentor. He'd never see you in any different light…right?

To solidify your victory, Leon taps out and you quickly roll off of him. You can't seem to contain your own smile as he sits up and looks at you with a look of pride.

"Not bad Rookie. Keep fighting like that and you may just take my job." He jokes and gets to his feet, offering you his hand. You accept it gladly and allow him to help you up.

"Any improvements? Or tips?" you ask, looking at him expectantly. That was the thing about you that he couldn't help but love so much. You were always willing to learn, always wanting to know more and improve. It was admirable, it was endearing. It reminded Leon of himself in some ways.

Without saying anything, Leon's hand comes up and tucks a stray hair behind your ear.

"Take it easy, you did good and you have more to learn but for now i'd say you're fine." He says and you smile wider. A real smile. One that reaches your eyes as well. Your cheeks redden a little and you look away.

"Thank you." you say with a genuine smile.

Leon waves you off and turns around, grabbing a water bottle and tossing it to you.

Despite how badly Leon would like to ignore it, he knew that there was some part inside of him that liked you a little too much. But as he watched you grow and improve and get stronger that feeling intensified. It was becoming more apparent to him every day that there was something special about you. But he'd ignore it…or try his best to.

But what he couldn't ignore was the swelling sense of pride that bloomed in his chest as he watched you drink some much needed water.

He was proud of you, so incredibly proud of you.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon x reader #vendetts leon x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil x you #resident evil imagines #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil vendetta #leon kennedy vendetta

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praisethegabs · 9 months

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UMBRELLA

pairing: leon kennedy x reader synopsis: he's your partner, and you both have one thing in common: finish the job. sadly, you weren't expecting a betrayal. warnings: smut, rough sex (yeah, those kinds of things), description of fights and injures, blood, and violence. MINORS, DNI! author's note: inspired by a edit i saw on tiktok (apparently it got deleted), and i needed to write something like that. word count: 5023k

you believe this is a game, and you might be right. but if you think you can play it better than me, think again.

The building was silent, dark, and cold.

You could see the Umbrella logo on the wall, but that place was abandoned for a very long time. There was furniture tossed around, blocking the way, armchairs, bookshelves, and a lot of dust, pieces of broken glass, and mold.

You couldn't tell exactly when that building was abandoned, but the marks made by the time indicated it had been years, and you knew that since the corporation's downfall, the aura of malevolence still clung to the abandoned structure like a ghostly presence. Probably was right before Raccoon City went to hell since the government blamed Umbrella Corporation for the disaster.

At least, you weren't in there alone.

They say he's America's finest agent, but for you, he's the finest agent in America. Everyone knows his name. Everyone calls him Agent Kennedy, but he likes it when you call him Leon. Just Leon.

He's been your partner for a very long time, and you both succeeded in a lot of missions together. To your superiors, no one is good as you two, which is why they always send you together. You dare to say is the chemistry between you two that always helps during these long missions, and you can deny it, you know you have feelings for him. Your guess is that he also knows it.

But there's only one thing that bothers you a little.

And this thing is the fact that you always feel like you don't know him completely. It's like Leon hides himself inside a shell, and no one can enter his private little world. No one knows a thing about him. His birth date? His favorite weather or his favorite drink? He's an enigma, and you hate him for that. He knows every aspect of your life, but you don't know about him, and this small thing makes you angry. Constantly.

At first, it bothered you knowing nothing about him, but now, after all these years together, you just don't care so much anymore. He's just your mysterious partner that you care about, despite the fact his unknown to you.

"This place is weird," you say to him, moving an armchair from your way, your flashlight indicating the right direction. "I mean, the Umbrella was so huge years ago and now... all that is left is dust and empty buildings"

"Perfect for a good trap, don't you think?" Leon lights you up with his flashlight, smirking at you.

"Yeah, it's pretty suspicious. I'm not sure that bioweapon is here, I mean, look at this place," you said, walking forward, reaching the door to enter the depths of the building.

"Are you afraid of the dark, sweetheart?" Leon teased you, getting closer so he can follow your pace. You can smell his cologne, the one you love so much.

But you couldn't give him an answer since you were too focused on your job to care about his jokes. And despite his jokes, even though he was there, you had a strange feeling in your chest, like something was wrong. All those years next to Leon, and you still had that strange feeling, and even after so many attempts to get rid of the feeling, you just made peace with it, giving up.

But then, you hear a loud noise coming from the inside of the building. The hall was dimly lit, and the air was thick with dust and an unsettling silence. Broken lab equipment and remnants of twisted experiments lay strewn across the floor, telling the haunting tale of the atrocities committed here in the past. As they ventured deeper, the tension grew thicker, and your grip on your pistol tightened.

"I have a bad feeling about this" you whisper, feeling your heart beating much faster inside your chest.

"Quoting Star Wars won't help" Leon muttered to you, but you knew he was just teasing you to make things better.

"Just shut up" you chuckle, following inside to search for any type of danger or any sign of the bioweapon.

As you both entered a large, dimly lit chamber, the sound of dripping water echoed eerily through the silence. The room was lined with rows of mysterious containment units, some of them still sealed shut, while others lay open and empty. You shone your flashlight on a nearby computer terminal, hoping to find any trace of the experiments that had taken place.

Leon came across a stack of faded documents, partially eaten by time and neglect. He picked one up, squinting to read the blacked-out text that remained. It hinted at bioengineering and viral research far beyond anything they had encountered before. Suddenly, a distant creak echoed through the chamber, and both of you instinctively turned your attention toward it. Your hearts raced as you exchanged glances, confirming that you were not alone. Whatever lay hidden within the darkness was now aware of your presence.

Carefully, you both advanced toward a concealed staircase, leading you underground to a maze of forgotten catacombs. The air grew colder, and a stale, damp smell pervaded the underground corridors. Illuminated by your flashlights, the walls revealed unsettling symbols and arcane diagrams, hinting at the occult experiments performed by the malevolent organization.

In the depths of the catacombs, you both stumbled upon an unexpected sight: a dimly lit laboratory that appeared to have been operational even after the corporation's apparent demise. Here, strange machines hummed faintly, and the green glow of biohazard containers cast an ominous aura on the scene.

"What the hell they were doing in here?" You glance at Leon, shocked by everything you both saw in there, although he didn't give you an answer.

The duo pressed onward, uncovering evidence of illegal human experimentation, genetic manipulation, and the development of bioweapons. The scale of Umbrella's atrocities was chilling, and the weight of responsibility to expose the truth bore heavily on your and Leon's shoulder. The moon could be seen from the windows, casting eerie shadows across the forgotten structure. Ivy and moss crept up the walls, nature reclaiming the once imposing fortress.

"Are you sure that bioweapon is here, Leon?" You asked, gripping your flashlight tightly.

"I know it's dangerous, but we need to find out what Umbrella was up to before they disappeared, and I'm sure our intel was right" Leon replied, his eyes scanning the place for any signs of trouble.

Together, you two pushed open the rusty metal doors, the hinges creaking like a haunting melody. Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of decay and dampness. Broken glass crunched beneath your boots as you stepped into the abandoned lobby inside the lab, the remnants of a once bustling corporate hub. Your flashlight danced across the faded company logo on the wall.

"It's hard to believe this place was once responsible for such horrors." You whisper, looking around the place, searching for shreds of evidence or new clues.

"Yeah," Leon agreed, "but there might be something left behind that could help us locate the bioweapon"

As you advanced, you two discovered a vast laboratory section, much bigger than the first one. Countless empty test tubes and shattered vials littered the floor, reminders of the sinister experiments that once took place there. Again, a faint humming sound resonated through the halls. Leon and you exchanged glances, your hearts pounding in unison. Following the sound, you found yourselves in front of a sealed door.

"This must be where the main research was conducted," Leon whispered, touching the sealed door to see if he could open it.

"Do you think there's still something here?" You nodded, your nerves on edge as you speak.

"There's only one way to find out," Leon replied, producing a keycard he had acquired during your investigations.

With a beep, the door unlocked, revealing a dimly lit room filled with computers and lab equipment. Dust motes danced in the light as you two stepped inside, and the soft hum of machinery surrounded them.

"Let's split up," Leon suggested, "We can cover more ground that way. But stay in contact."

You agreed, and you both started examining the room. Leon tapped on the keyboard of an old computer, hoping it would give you some clue as to Umbrella's operations. Meanwhile, you sifted through old files, your eyes widening at the horrific experiments documented within. As you searched, the unsettling feeling that you were not alone grew stronger. Leon could sense the presence of something sinister lurking in the shadows. He turned his flashlight towards a dark corner and froze. A faint glimmer of red eyes stared back at him.

"Leon!" Your voice came through the radio, filled with urgency. "I found something you need to see."

Reluctantly tearing his eyes away, Leon rushed over to your location. You had found a hidden compartment, inside of which lay a collection of files marked "Top Secret."

"These could blow the lid off everything," you said, your voice trembling with a mix of excitement and determination. "With this kind of file, our government can at least know exactly what Umbrella was doing all this time... and that's not all"

Leon raised an eyebrow, getting closer to you so he could see what you had in your hands. He was curious. You could feel his breath on your neck, which made your body shiver instantly. You always felt something going insane inside you every time he got closer like this. And you hated yourself for not hiding it better.

"What else did you find?" Leon asks you, and you noticed that suddenly, he seemed disturbed and worried.

"There's another file. This one enlists all the double agents working for Umbrella," you said, opening the said file to have a better look at it.

Leon took the file from your hands, having a look himself. He looked at all the pages like he was trying to find something very important. You noticed his hands were shaking, and he was breathing heavily. You never saw him react like that, and your sixth sense screamed in your head something was wrong.

"Leon, is everything alright? You seem disturbed" you ask him, feeling your heart beating faster inside your chest, and you were starting to get nervous.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I think we should go" he said, and his voice sounded dark as he closed the file and didn't return it to you.

"You can give me the file" Your voice sounded a little bit scared, but you tried your best to sound calm. Your hands, however, betrayed you.

"No, I can take it," Leon said, without looking at you and holding the file like it was his life in his hands. "Let's go"

But soon as he turned away from you, an instinct yelled at you, and without thinking twice, you took the file from him, standing away quickly. Leon turned to face you again, his eyes surprised and angry, trying to understand your insolence.

Leon Kennedy, the charismatic agent you had come to trust and rely on, stood before you. But there was something different about him now — his once warm gaze now seemed guarded, distant, and strangely calculating. You couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to his mission than he had let on.

"Please give me the file," Leon said, his voice steady but lacking the usual warmth.

"Why, Leon? What's going on?" you asked, your voice quivering with both fear and suspicion.

Leon stepped closer, his piercing eyes fixated on you, and you felt like a defenseless prey looking straight into your hunter.

"It's not what you think. This information is sensitive, and I can't risk it falling into the wrong hands," he said, getting closer as you tried to step back, keeping distance from him.

"Sensitive? What could be so sensitive that you can't trust me, your partner, with it?" You couldn't ignore the knot of doubt tightening in your stomach.

Your question seemed to agitate Leon, and for a moment, a flicker of frustration crossed his face. He took a deep breath, composing himself before speaking.

"It's not about trust, sweetheart. But this goes beyond our mission. Lives are at stake, and I can't let anything jeopardize that." Leon said firmly, his eyes locked on yours, analyzing every move you made.

You felt your heart sank. You had always admired Leon's dedication to his duty, but this seemed different. It was as if he was hiding something from you, something much darker than you could have ever imagined. You couldn't shake off the thought that Leon might not be the hero you had perceived him to be.

"Leon, we're a team. We face these dangers together," you implored, taking a step closer to him.

His eyes softened for a moment, but the resolve quickly returned. Your heart was beating so faster inside your chest that you were certain you would have it ripping your skin apart. You wanted to run, but you knew he would catch you.

"I know we are, but sometimes, in this line of work, there are things that one must carry alone. You don't need the burden of this knowledge." Leon said, his voice more cold and dark than before, his eyes scanning you and a slight smirk appearing on his lips. His words only fueled your suspicion further.

"Burden? Or the truth? I deserve to know, Leon. We both deserve to know what we're up against." You yelled at him, now completely scared.

Leon hesitated, torn between revealing more or maintaining the secrecy. You saw the battle within him, and that made you even more determined to uncover the truth, whatever it was. You remembered the countless times you both had saved each other's lives, trusting one another with your very existence.

"Leon, if you won't tell me the truth, then I'll find it myself," you declared, your voice unwavering as you took a step back, clutching the file tightly in your hand.

Suddenly, a loud crash from the hallway startled you both. Leon's eyes darted towards the door, and without another word, he lunged forward and snatched the file from your grasp.

"Leon, what's going on?" You demanded, your heart pounding faster, your hands shaking with fear.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I can't risk you getting involved any further." He hesitated for a moment, looking at you with a mix of remorse and determination.

Before you could react, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving you standing there, feeling betrayed and confused. Your mind raced, trying to process everything that had just happened. You couldn't shake off the feeling that something was deeply wrong. The doubts that had been lingering in the shadows now emerged with full force, and you knew that if you wanted to uncover the truth, you had to act fast. You went right after him, willing to take the truth out.

You took your knife out, and then, smoothly and quickly, you tripped his legs, which sent him crashing to the ground with a loud thud. You then leaped over him, holding the knife hard against his neck, the sharp blade gently tearing through his skin in a thin, shallow slash.

"I want the truth, Leon" you demanded again, pressing your knife deeper on his neck, using your knees to block his hands. "Or I swear to God, one of us won't see the sunlight"

"You're making things way more difficult than they should be" Leon replied, looking angry right before he switched places with you, leaving you under him. "We don't have to do this"

And unexpectedly, you hit him precisely, allowing yourself to be free from his grip. You stood up, grabbed your knife, and prepared to duel him.

"Then let's get clean. I won't let you go without telling me the truth" you said, noticing he also took his knife, you both in your positions, ready to fight.

"When I finish, remember that you chose this," he said, his voice more cold and dark as he prepared to fight with you.

Without another word, Leon and you lunged forward, knives glinting in the low light. The dance of blades began, the sound of steel clashing filling the room as you both tested each other's defenses and reflexes. Your movements were fluid, almost like a choreographed routine, but this was no ordinary dance – it was a deadly game of skill and strategy.

You struck first, your knife slicing through the air with precision. Leon deflected your attack with ease, stepping back to assess your next move. You came at him again, this time with a flurry of rapid strikes, but Leon parried each one, displaying his years of training and experience. Your connection was extraordinary. Your moves were perfectly timed, and it seemed as though you both could anticipate each other's intentions before you even made a move. It was a testament to the hours spent training together, forging a bond that transcended words.

The room echoed with the clashing of metal, and sweat began to bead on your brows. You were both pushing your limits, seeking to better yourselves and each other in this intense battle of skill and willpower. Your footwork was agile, and you utilized your speed to keep Leon on his toes. You feinted to the left and then lunged at his right side, but he was ready for you, sidestepping the attack and countering with a swift strike of his own. The tip of his knife grazed your shoulder, leaving a small, superficial cut.

You didn't flinch; instead, a determined glint flashed in your eyes. You intensified your efforts, your movements becoming more unpredictable and aggressive. Leon welcomed the challenge, his mind sharpened by the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Your breaths became audible, the rhythm of your heartbeats in sync with the dance you two performed.

A momentary distraction proved costly for Leon. As he glanced over your shoulder, you seized the opportunity, delivering a swift kick to his side, sending him stumbling backward. You capitalized on his momentary weakness, pressing the advantage and slashing your knife toward his exposed flank. Leon barely managed to twist away, but the blade still grazed his side, drawing a thin line of blood. The pain fuelled his determination, and he came back with renewed intensity. His strikes became more aggressive, forcing you to fall back and focus on your defense.

The clash of steel echoed through the night, a harmonious symphony of combat. You both moved with a fluidity that spoke of countless hours of practice, each moves an extension of your very being. But despite your efforts, neither seemed to gain the upper hand.

Time seemed to blur as you two fought, the minutes felt like seconds, and the seconds like an eternity. Both Leon and you were growing weary, the strain of the duel taking its toll. Sweat still dripped from your brows, and both of your breaths were labored, but neither was willing to yield. Then, in a moment of exhaustion, your concentration slipped ever so slightly. Leon seized the opportunity, redirecting your blade and disarming you with a swift, well-placed strike. Your knife flew from your hand, landing several feet away.

For a brief moment, the room fell silent, the only sound of the heavy panting of the combatants. Leon stood victorious, his knife pointed at you, who lowered your hands, breathing heavily but not willing to give up yet. A smile tugged at the corner of Leon's lips, a mix of relief and pride in his accomplishment.

"Well fought," he said, his voice slightly breathless, his eyes still locked on yours.

"Go ahead, kill me," you said to him, your eyes already tearing up, your forehead dripping sweat.

"I can't," he said, lowering his knife, catching his breath again, and for the first time, you could notice he was telling the truth.

The adrenaline inside you made your heart beat faster. But deep down, you knew it wasn't just the adrenaline. It was your feelings for him too, dominating your mind like poison, controlling every move of yours. Leon remained silent, his eyes still focused and locked on yours, and even though you both were tired, you knew he was sharing the same as you.

"What are you waiting for, Leon?" you asked him, accepting it was your end. You would die without knowing the truth, although you were starting to figure it out. "Fucking finish me"

But then, he surprised you with an urgent kiss, picking you up, holding your thighs, and pressing you hard against the wall, his tongue tasting every part of your face and your neck. You tangled your legs around his neck, your fingernails leaving scratches on his back, making him moan between your shared kisses.

Then, he put you down on a table, removing everything that was above, not caring about the noise or the mess or even the dirt. He used his belt to tie you down, removing your jeans and your underwear before he did the same. His fingers reached your pussy and he smiled largely, satisfied with his effect on you.

"I know you wanted me, ever since the day we met," he said, touching your clit and circling very slowly. "But that's okay, honey... I've always wanted to fuck you too"

"Shit, Leon..." You moan for him, biting your lip as you feel his touch. You were about to close your legs, but he stopped you from doing so.

"Don't you dare close your legs, sweetheart. I won't be gentle with you" he said, using the tip of his cock to tease you, rubbing it on your pussy, making you moan.

He gagged you with your underwear and smiled even more, looking at how desperate you were. You were so wet that he didn't have any trouble penetrating you, going deeper and slowly, his finger still circling your clit.

"Is this how you imagined me fucking you, honey?" he provoked you, starting to fuck you harder and you nodded, unable to answer. "Shit, you're so good... so tight, just for me"

He moans as he goes deeper into you, his fingers circling your clit, following the moves of his hips against yours. You moan, even muffled by your underwear in your mouth. He forces you to watch what he's doing to you, his hand holding your tied hands, making sure you're not going to move.

"You're so fucking beautiful" he moans again, looking at you, seeing your desperate body beg for him, which makes him smile largely. "Oh, God..."

Then, he takes off the underwear from your mouth and makes you sit down on your knees on the floor, putting his cock in your mouth, almost reaching your throat, making you suck him. He holds your head, making you taste him deeper, and when he removed himself out of your mouth, you gasped. Your eyes were tearing up, but he didn't care, he kept forcing you to suck him, and he knew you were enjoying it.

"Come on, sweetheart" he moans again, holding your head as he watches you suck him deep. "Shit, you're so good, baby"

You felt his precum on your mouth, and when he got closer to cum, he started to masturbate and force you to look at him while he did that. He started to moan again, still holding your head tight, until he released himself, and his cum when all over your face, his moans louder. His breath was heavier, and you saw his body trembling with the sudden release of pleasure. And to you, it was the most beautiful image you had of him, the type of Greek sculpture made by the Gods.

But if you thought he was done with you, well, you were wrong.

He lifted you again, pulling you back on the desk, spreading your legs wide open to lick you, tasting you on his tongue. The contact he made was so intense that the moan escaped through your lips like a sweet melody. Your tied hands reached his hair, and when he felt your touch, he glanced at you, a mean smile appearing on his lips.

"No, no, darling," he said, moving your hands away from his hair, that devilish smile still on his lips.

Leon hold your hands, and then, he returned his mouth to your pussy, licking it like a starved animal eating his prey. You started to moan, this warm feeling growing inside you, dominating your entire being. You lost yourself in the waves of pleasure, feeling them crashing over you like a tsunami of raw emotion. Your breathing grew heavier, each breath a desperate attempt to hold on to reality amidst the overwhelming ecstasy.

"Leon," you finally gasped, your voice barely a whisper. "I can't hold on much longer."

He met your gaze, his eyes filled with desire and passion, his pleasure entwined with yours, as he kept licking you, getting his mouth filled with your lubrication.

"Let go, honey," he encouraged his voice husky with desire. "I'm here with you."

With a final surge of intensity, you finally surrendered to the tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you. Your body quivered and shook, waves of delight coursing through your veins like liquid fire. In that euphoric moment, you were weightless, suspended in an infinite sea of rapture. Your body trembled with ecstasy as you let out a cry that echoed through the room, and then, you felt your body relaxed, and a sense of serenity washed over you. You opened your eyes, and the intensity of your gaze met Leon's.

For a moment, you could find words to express your thoughts. You remained in silence, watching the ceiling and trying to catch your breath. You couldn't think about anything else besides what happened. Your body was sensitive, still shivering, and you could still feel the pleasure. Until you saw him getting dressed again.

"I know you had a crush on me," he says out of nowhere, attaining your attention again. "And that is okay, this feeling is mutual"

"How long have you known that?" you ask him, sitting on the desk and putting your clothes back on again.

"Ever since we met. I wasn't kidding" he said, putting his gear back on, glancing at you while he spoke.

And when he turned around, you took the opportunity to look at the file about the double agents. And when you saw his name in there, everything started to fall apart. Everything made sense to you. Leon Scott Kennedy, the agent you fell in love with and trusted with your life, was working for the Umbrella Corporation. His eyes met yours, and there was nothing he could say.

"You work for them?" was the only thing you could ask him, feeling betrayed.

Leon sighed heavily, and instantly, his eyes changed. It was cold, dark, and empty of emotions. There was a macabre smile on his lips as he started to walk towards you.

"I told you before... you shouldn't have looked at it" he said, and then everything went black.

Your head was spinning around, and your left temple was aching, and you knew it was like someone hit you hard in the head. Besides this, your wrists were hurting too, and when you finally opened your eyes, you looked up and saw yourself suspended in the air, your hands tied by chains. You tried to free yourself, but it was very tight, and there was nothing you could do.

Suddenly, you heard a noise, and you felt your body falling to the ground, with a loud thud. Every part of you was hurting, and you felt your bones were burning. You started to cry when you saw Leon approaching you. His gaze is almost diabolical, like he was an animal with his helpless prey.

It was like he could take all the air from your lungs and leave you to die, and probably he would do that without hesitation. The sad part? You wouldn't mind. You felt so betrayed that at the moment, nothing else matters.

You were laying down on the floor, your eyes tearing up and your body aching in pain, and all he did was stare at you with those devilish, cold, and handsome blue eyes that you always loved. And while your body remembered that you were bleeding, your mind was racing, all your thoughts were focused on only one question: why?

"It hurts when we face the truth, isn't it?" he asks you, kneeling next to you, his hand resting on his knee as he holds his gun.

"I fucking hate you" Your voice sounds sharper and angrier, but you can't even stop looking at him.

"Funny. This isn't what I heard five hours ago" he smirks, trying to break your control, his hand reaching for your open wound, poking it and making you scream. "Yeah, that's better"

"You fucking asshole" your voice cracked a little as you sob in pain, your body twitching, trying to escape from him. "Why would you do that? You tricked me"

"Tricked you?" he laughs, his voice sounding colder than ever as he keeps looking at your miserable condition. "C'mon... I'm just doing my job, honey"

You spit on his face, your tears already falling down your cheeks. He smiled again, cleaning himself from your saliva before he grabbed you by your neck, his grip tight.

"I'll give you three options, honey. Chose one of them very carefully" Leon said, his eyes locked on yours, his dark smile getting bigger as he forced you to look at him. "One, you'll return with me, and you won't say a word about that damn file and let me do my job..."

You felt his cold gun reaching your face. He gently rubbed it on your face.

"Two, you'll work with me and help me get what I want" he whispers, his voice still cold, but a little bit caring, his eyes shining with the possibilities.

"What's the third option?" you ask him, your voice failing a little due to his tight grip on your neck. He smiled again, biting his lower lip before saying something.

"Your third option is death" he revealed calmly, like he did that before. You cried a little more, but he didn't care. "And I'll make it very slowly and painfully. So, darling, what's your choice?"

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greymoonfeelings · 1 year

Text

That's My Man

whumpuary #9: scars

summary: Even the hottest man on the planet has insecurities about his looks

warnings: negative self talk, spice/implied smut (nothing explicit)

word count: 600

•••

“God, I look like shit.” Bradley mutters to himself as he examines his scars in the floor-length mirror. Fresh out of the shower, the marred skin looks more evident in the morning sun.

“Hey, that’s my man you’re talking about.” You tease, wrapping your arms around his torso. Bradley looks at you in the mirror, seemingly unmoved by your playful comment.

“That’s the mystery. What do you even find attractive about me? I look like Frankenstein.”

There’s a noticeable shift in your demeanor when you realize that your boyfriend is seriously feeling down about himself. It hurts your heart to think that he feels insecure about the man he sees in the mirror, the one that you love so deeply.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“It’s hard not to. Every time I look in the mirror it’s all I see.” His fingertips pull at his cheek, stretching the skin in a way that makes the scars look more prominent.

“Well, you know what I see?” You move in front of Bradley, blocking his view of the mirror. “I see my strong, badass boyfriend who does one of the most dangerous jobs ever yet manages to come back home to me even when the odds are against him.” You trace over the scars on his chest that he acquired when punching out of his plane that was destroyed during a dogfight.

“I see someone who fights for those he loves and never leaves a man behind.” The scars on his cheek and neck are next to be caressed, reminding him that they were the byproduct of his decision to go after Maverick during the Uranium mission.

Lastly, you take his left hand in yours, acknowledging the red mark on his palm “I also see an idiot who burned his hand on my curling iron, but I guess that’s beside the point.” You kiss the welt as Bradley shakes his head, chuckling at your cheekiness.

Lifting his face with your hands, you force him to look into your eyes so he knows that your next words are the truth. “Your scars don’t make you less attractive, Bradley, or less deserving of love. They’re proof of how resilient you are and I love you no matter what.”

“I love you too.”

You press a tender kiss to his forehead before pulling back. “And I’m not only with you for your looks, y’know.”

“Well, what are you with me for?” Bradley questions, expecting a heartfelt answer or perhaps even a sentiment about what’s between his legs.

“The great benefits that the Navy offers, duh! Who wouldn’t want to live in this amazing government housing? Having a working refrigerator is overrated!”

“You’re a tease, you know that?”

“No, I’m just a sarcastic bitch. If I were a tease I would do this…”

You lean in close to your boyfriend, leaving delicate kisses along his neck as you slowly run a hand down to the front of his gym shorts where he is sensitive. Bradley lets out a soft moan as you suck a mark against his collarbone. He reaches out for your hips but you spin away from his grasp.

Smirking at your successful attempt at riling your boyfriend up and getting his mind off his insecurities, you run out of the bedroom hollering, “Well! I’m off to run errands!”

“Oh, you’re in for it now!”

Your squeals fill the apartment as Bradley chases you through the house to get you to finish what you started. Eventually, he catches up and you spend the afternoon showing him every single thing you love about him including his scars.

#heather writes #bradley bradshaw x reader #whumpuary2023 #bradley bradshaw fanfic #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw

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tibby-art · 4 months

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I’m adoring the Hitman AU. Scar and Cub share a braincell and Grian just looks like she wants to go home and sleep.

I’m curious as to what powers ConVex has. Or what their motives are with Grian. (ConVex trying to corrupt her.)

I've been picturing Cub and Scar's vex powers as being able to transform into a vex form (pale blueish skin, white hair/eyes, wings, fangs, claws, the whole nine yards). The forms allow them to move at lightning speed and fly, making them perfect as silent killers in their roles as hitmen. They're super sneaky and fast.

I think the vex work with pacts as well - if you make a pact with a vex, they're unable to go against said pact. That's how they ended up working for the government as hitmen. I imagine that in their past they were very powerful and corrupt criminals at Concorp (standard protocol for convex in an au i'd say). One day the government catches up to them, and they're given a choice: Go to top-security prison for one bajillion years because you're a dangerous vex criminal OR make a pact with the government and work under them, using your powers for good. So, Cub and Scar are technically here by choice, but their choices were limited. They're bound by a fae contract that they must perform their given duties as hitmen - they bend the rules and find loopholes whenever possible, though. Vex are tricky like that. They'll get ordered to take out a dangerous crime boss, but because you didn't technically specify that you wanted that done today, they took the day off to go golfing. They'll get to it tomorrow :J (The government learns the hard way that when you order Cub and Scar to kill someone you must specify to them not to eat the person because that has happened and that will happen again and everything is terrible)

Grian is in a similar situation, but he was given less of a choice. While Cub and Scar made their own pacts with the vex to gain their powers, Grian's watcher powers are something she did not ask for at all. The Watchers are much more mysterious than the Vex, not a lot is known about them and they're considered almost a myth until Grian shows up. This makes her more dangerous and unpredictable, in the government's eyes. Grian isn't allowed to just walk away and go back to being a normal member of society - nobody knows what he's capable of (not even Grian knows) so the government needs to keep a close eye on her. When she's paired up with Cub and Scar for missions, the vex are ordered to keep an eye on Grian, and step in if things get too dangerous. Cub and Scar think this is BS and they almost pity Grian, deep down, since he's essentially in the same spot they're in but worse. When their pact says to keep Grian from getting too dangerous, they interpret it as, "Well, if we help her figure out her powers, she's more in control and that will make everything safer :J"

I don't think Convex is trying to corrupt her - I think the government is the one being manipulative here. Convex sees it. I think they genuinely want to help her grow and discover new abilities and how to use them. They're Convex, though, so they might not be the best role models lol. I think what they're trying to do is help her get more confidence and more control over her powers. Cub is a scientist who is very good at figuring out how Grian's abilities work, what he can and can't do, the limits of said abilities, etc. and Scar has the most creative and insane ideas on how to utilize watcher powers that it sometimes leads to discovering something brand new. I can picture him being like, ":J Hey have you ever tried using your watcher powers to spy on a specific location from like, fifty miles away" and Grian is like "Scar that's ridiculous that's not how it works" and then she tries it and is amazed when that actually does work. Scar's like ":J yeah I made that up I didnt think it would work Can you spy on Disneyland now"

#convexian hitman au #asks

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dmitriene · 7 months

Text

ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ.

❝ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 ❞ 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥𝘺 𝘹 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳.

❝ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 ❞ 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.

❝ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 ❞ 𝘚𝘔𝘜𝘛, 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵, 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘺, 𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴, 𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘤𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘴, 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨.

❝𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦❞ 𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪’𝘮 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

The training facility was a cold and sterile place, and the life of a government agent was far from easy — endless training, potential injuries and constant hidden stress created the feeling of an endless battle.

But among all the chaos and discipline, it was impossible not to notice one figure that stood out — Leon Kennedy.

There was something mysterious about Leon — his chiseled features and piercing blue eyes caught your attention every time he passed by, his golden hair seemed soft as silk, which contrasted sharply with the harsh surroundings — but what always kept you engaged fear, it was the gloomy expression that seemed to be etched on his face.

You found yourself in a dimly lit hallway, suffering from a few bruises and a feeling of exhaustion settling deep in your bones — it was just another grueling day of training as a government agent, a life filled with endless challenges and unrelenting stress.

However, suddenly fate intervened — you came across Leon in a remote corner of the facility, trying to bandage a wound on his own, clumsily snorting under his breath, struggling with the gauze as strands of his blond hair fell onto his forehead as he cursed quietly to himself.

You approached carefully, your heart pounding with curiosity and worry — «Need help?» you suggested, your voice soft and meek.

Leon's dark gaze shifted to you, and after a moment's hesitation, he grunted in agreement, so without further ado you knelt down next to him, trying not to make any sudden movements.

— «You alright?» you asked, brushing your fingers over his abs as you helped him apply the bandage.

He hesitated for a moment before answering, a slight blush spread across his cheeks as your touch grazed his skin — «Yeah, just a scratch» it was a small moment of vulnerability, moment that marked the beginning of your friendship.

Days turned into weeks and you and Leon grew closer.

You supported each other through grueling training sessions, spending limited free time together.

Some nights the two of you would engage in small sparring matches in the privacy of his room, it was during these nightly sessions that Leon would teach you the art of using a knife — a skill he had honed through years of experience.

But one evening everything changed.

You found yourself on Leon's bed, his lips covering your neck with warm and careful kisses, his slightly calloused fingers sliding along your waist, lifting your t-shirt, and he moved to your stomach, leaving soft kisses along the way.

Your breath caught in your throat and you couldn’t help but whine quietly, your eyelashes fluttering as you looked at him.

— «Let's get rid of it» Leon muttered, his voice slightly hoarse with desire as he reached for the waistband of your pants, pulling them down with deft fingers, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

— «Are you alright? Tell me if you want me to stop» He looked into your eyes and his gaze was filled with concern as he asked, his words were filled with sincerity, a hint of vulnerability, he wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

Lying there, unable to find conhrete words to express your desires, you simply nodded, a mixture of excitement and anticipation in your eyes.

Leon, sensing your agreement, took this as a green light for further action, his touches became bolder, his fingers gently caressed your thighs, sending tingles through your body.

With a gentle yet firm grip, Leon helped you spread your legs, giving him better access to your soft, inviting skin, and his lips pressed against your flesh, leaving a trail of heated kisses and light bites in his wake.

You couldn't help but let out soft moans, the sensations overwhelming your senses and Leon's actions were domineering yet gentle at the same time, a perfect balance that drove you crazy, causing you to quietly say his name

— «Leon..»

As soon as you softly moaned his, the sound of your desire fueled his own, and he could no longer resist the temptation.

With hunger in his eyes, he lowered himself down, his warm breath fanning the fabric of your wet panties, and his lips parted, pressing against the wet spot, his nose buried in the intoxicating aroma of your wet arousal.

Leon's hot breath on your clothed cunt sent shivers through your body, increasing the pulsation between your thighs, the sensation was both soothing and maddening, a delicious torment that left you craving more, something he was happy to provide.

Leon's voice, low and full of awe, broke the silence as he whispered — «You are so beautiful»

His words a soothing melody to your ears, resonating deeply within you, awakening a deeper sense of desire, until with a gentle kiss to the fabric covering your needy cunt, his lips expressed his admiration.

He wasted no time, his fingers sliding through the damp fabric of your panties, teasing and exploring the contours of your aroused cunt.

The slicness that coated his fingertips was evidence of your undeniable desire and arousal, evidence of the pleasure that awaited you both.

With a conscious movement, Leon pushed the fabric of your wet panties to the side, revealing your quivering cunt and glistening folds, the sight of your exposed cunt, slick and inviting, drove him crazy with anticipation.

His eyes met yours, a silent confirmation of his next movements as he plunged his tongue deep into your dripping cunt, enjoying the taste of your arousal.

Long, sensual strokes slid along your folds, from the base to the sensitive bud of your clit, causing delicious moans from your lips, a mixture of his name and vague mutterings

— «Yesyesyes, Leon!»

His tongue worked diligently, alternating between long, sensual strokes and teasing flicks against your swollen clit, each movement deliberate and skillful, aimed at bringing you to the brink of pleasure.

With each gentle pump of his tongue, he explored the depths of your wetness, enjoying the way your body reacted to his touch as the sensations continually overwhelmed you, causing your body to arch and your breathing to quicken.

You couldn't help but newl, the pleasure building inside you, threatening to consume you completely as your hips jerked uncontrollably towards his wet mouth, and in response, he pressed his strong hands on your trembling thighs, holding you in place.

Leon continued his furious assault on your aching cunt, his tongue dancing across your sensitive folds as his fingers skillfully stroked your swollen clit, his touch firm yet gentle, his fingers sliding over your most sensitive spot with expert precision, working in tandem.

With every flick of his tongue and every movement of his fingers, he brought you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy, the sensations overwhelmed you, making your body tremble and your breath hitch, and you could feel the heat building inside of you, the pleasure coiling tightly in the pit of your stomach, threatening to free itself.

The room filled with your sweet, sultry moans echoing off the walls as Leon continued the combination of his oral prowess and skillful fingers stroking your sensitive bud, pushing you closer to the edge, making your body tremble in anticipation.

As Leon's expert tongue continued to pump deep into your throbbing cunt, his fingers relentlessly stroking your sensitive bud, the intensity of the pleasure swirling inside you reached an unbearable peak, your body trembling on the verge of release, the pleasure building and building as desperate pleas escaped your lips

— «M'close, m'so close, pleaseplease, Leon»

And finally your cunt clenched around his tongue, your walls convulsing as you came, your juices spilling freely onto his waiting tongue as he greedily lapped up your sweet nectar, his lips and tongue savoring every drop of your arousal as he continued to give you pleasure, prolonging your orgasm until the last shudders of ecstasy subsided.

Only then did he remove his fingers and slowly lean back with a satisfied smirk on his face, the taste of your juices on his tongue only fueled his own desire, craving you even more, causing him to purr

— «Think you up for the another session?»

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