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#I HOPE YOU LIKE IT
erwinsvow · 2 days
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shy reader sending rafe nudes for the first time🫢
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rafe was so nice to you. his new favorite hobby seemed to be spoiling you—it seemed there was an endless influx of shopping trips and things getting delivered to your house after being mentioned once. you don't know how he always got it right, the exact color you wanted or the perfect size. especially when you weren't even sure which style was the best or were having trouble picking between two. rafe would decide for you, usually picking right or just ending up buying both.
he was very good at this whole thing, and though you had trouble accepting his genoursity at first, you felt you were growing into it quite nicely.
the constant denial that you wanted something turned into a sweet, grateful smile when rafe offered to get it. worrying about how expensive something was long-forgotten, instead you gave rafe a kiss on the cheek instead of mentioning it.
and the best part was that he liked it, liked taking care of you, liked making sure you had the things you wanted. he'd even gotten a shiny silver credit card with his name on it, had insisted that you use it for things.
"what kinda man am i, huh? if my girl has to buy herself nice things. that's no way to treat your best girl, huh?"
mostly he just wanted to hear you call yourself his girl, but it was getting easier and easier to swipe it out and about.
you fell into the trap of the saleswoman at the lingerie store—you'd come once before to buy some nighties when you started sleeping over at tannyhill every single night. you'd handed her the silver card, thinking about what rafe had in store for you if you showed up wearing what you'd just bought, when she snapped you out of it
"is that all for today mrs. cameron?"
she'd transported you into a completely different spiral. so you had returned with a craving to hear yourself be called that again, buying anything and everything that caught your eye, but mostly things that you thought rafe would like.
on your way out, still elated from the sheer headrush of being called mrs. cameron, you don't even notice the missed call and texts from rafe, not until you get home and put on the first of many new outfits.
rafey: what the hell is la perla. the fuck did you buy for $500??
dolled up in your new outfit, you angle yourself to snap a couple of pictures with your phone, the first showing your tits spilling out of the pretty, floral bra and panty set. then you laid down, trying to capture your ass and the best arch you could manage without rafe there to push your back for you. trying on another thing you'd bought, this time a pretty white babydoll, you take a selfie showing just enough of the fabric.
sending the photos without any caption, you wait patiently for the response. but seconds turn into minutes, minutes into ten and twenty, while you wonder if you overstepped, if rafe was displeased at your purchases, at the waste of money.
rafe opens the door so hard it slams, and you flinch.
"get on the bed. now." like always, you comply. you guess he wasn't so mad after all.
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stillackerman · 2 days
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postwar!levi x reader
You're preparing for the event, which requires formal clothes.
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You're watching how Levi is trying to fix his white ascot. He's been fighting with that piece of fabric for a few minutes now, still not satisfied with the result. You can almost sense his frustration in the air. You always can. And you also know that he won't ask you for help. His pride will never allow him.
You're getting up from the chair and coming closer. You look at his mirror image, your eyes meet, and you smile a little before speaking:
“Let me help you.”
Levi doesn't say a word, but he turns to you, giving you a free hand. You focus on the task, and slowly take care of this, everything must be perfect, the way he likes it.
You feel his eyes on you, focused the same way on your beauty as you're on the ascot. You're almost blushing; even after all this time, his gaze makes you feel weak on your knees.
When you've done, you look at him, putting your hand on his cheek and tracing his scars with your thumb.
“You look really handsome,” you whisper.
“Tch...” You know Levi resists the urge to roll his eyes.
“I mean it!” You assure him, and to confirm it, you give him a sweet kiss. You feel how he relaxes at the touch of your lips.
And when you pull away, you see he's even more handsome than before. His skin gains some color, and he has happy sparkles in the eyes.
“We should go,” he says. “We can't be late.”
You nod. Levi takes the cane in one hand, and he gives you the free arm. You grab it, and both of you leave the room, looking like the most beautiful couple in the world.
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xxacademy · 2 days
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Throne of His Own
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This fic is inspired & adapted from chapter 42 of A Court Of Mist And Fury, by Sarah J. Maas. Plot is original, but I took heavy influence from the events of that scene. <3
Leon Kennedy x Agent!Reader (she/her)
18+ MDNI !!
Summary: Being sent to a rural French village to go undercover with a band of vampires was strangely typical for your line of work— But, pretending to be lovers with another agent was anything but typical. Adapting yourself from a trained agent to a submissive lover unfolds in an unexpected series of events.
Word count: 10.2k
Content warnings: smut, AFAB anatomy, exhibitionism, penetrative sex, pet names, slightly mean possessive Leon (only when he has to be), alcohol consumption, typical violence and themes associated with resident evil (like mentions/ use of weapons).
a/n: somewhere, deep in the void, this was intended to be about 2k words, just a little one shot... but now here we are, lol. anyways thank you guys for being so patient, and thank u to my besties on here for being so kind and understanding. life is crazy, and truly i cannot keep up as consistently as i’d like to. i will always be here, even if i take some long breaks here & there. i love all u resident evil obsessed freaks, my life wouldn’t be the same without u xx also i finally decided to not be lazy & do the cute colored letters i hope u enjoy hehe
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— PART I —
You peered out the window as you were driven through the endless sprawl of the snow-covered French countryside. A blur of powdery white pines occasionally broken up by small villages nestled into the hills.
Behind all those tall trees were the ragged peaks of the hulking French Alps, so expansive they nearly cut the sky in half. The beauty and stillness of winter was in full effect. Every little village had plumes of warming smoke gathering above the chimneys.
The agent driving the car interrupted your silent musing over the scenery. "You'll have to hike in. It's about 5 miles to the village, but we can't risk getting too close."
With one hand still on the wheel, he reached for the center console, pulled out a large envelope, and tossed it in your lap.
"There you'll find the information you need. Your partner, Leon Kennedy, has been undercover, posing as one of them."
Your voice is monotone, almost disinterested. "And who's them?"
"Some parasite-infected blood suckers. Leon has described them as a vampiric blood cult or something."
"And I'm just expected to waltz into all this? A blood cult? Really?"
"He talked about having a lover, a woman he returned home to, and at the time, it was just banter to fit in with them. But the cultists want to meet her. Either they're getting suspicious, or they want to play ball. Regardless, this served as a rather interesting opportunity to give Leon backup. So here you are."
Your knuckle rests below your bottom lip; you watch as the sun begins its descent below the icy mountain peaks. 
So here I am. 
You and one of the few other survivors of Raccoon City. You've met him, sure, but you have yet to work alongside him. But, you'd always known the day would come. 
── ・ 。☆*☽*☆゚.──
You were driven as far as the meandering forest service road would allow. Ahead of you, where the road was no more, towering evergreens had taken over. Their limbs were heavy with packed snow, creating a dense cover over the forest. Only a sliver of the remaining purple-tinted dusk made it through the trees.
"This is where you're on your own. Here are the coordinates for where you'll meet up. Just stay north until you find an abandoned barn. That's where he'll be."
You nod in understanding, equipping your array of weapons—a rifle on your back, a pistol on your hip, and a machete on the other.
"We'll have you out before the end of the week," the agent said, helping you put your pack on.
"I'll count my blessings," your face was solemn as you faced the trees, attempting to size up what lay ahead.
"Well then, you're set. The best of luck to you." a sympathetic smile formed on the agent's lips as he stepped back into the car.
Without hesitation, you departed into the cold, dark wilderness.
── ・ 。☆*☽*☆゚.──
Seven miles may not have been a lot for you, but Seven miles of trekking through uncharted backcountry in the dark of winter was. You were chilled to the bone, and the numbness of your limbs limited your mobility ten-fold. 
The thick undergrowth of the forest only got denser as you progressed, and your machete-wielding arm throbbed with every strike.
You stumbled up an embankment. With every step, loose, powdery snow slipped underneath your winter boots. Each sharp breath you took appeared as mist, illuminated by your headlamp.
As you finally reached the crest of the hill, you spotted a dilapidated barn at the base. It was nestled underneath a skeletal weeping willow tree. As you moved closer, you noticed half of its roof had caved in. Just one billow of wind could send the thing toppling.
You made your way down the slope, encroaching on the barn. You pulled out your pistol and dimmed your headlamp just to be safe.
Focusing on sound, you surveyed the area for footsteps, rustling, or speaking.
There was not a peep to be heard. Aside from the occasional whisper of wind, the surrounding forest was eerily quiet.
The crunch of the snow under your boots was frustratingly loud as you circled the barn's perimeter, searching for traps.
To your surprise, you peeked through a frosty window and saw the dull glow of a lantern, and a man sat beside it.
He was bundled head to toe in fur-lined clothing similar to your own. His eyes flicked up, and they met with yours. Without speaking, he signaled you in.
You couldn't recall what he looked like, but you remember a distinctly boyish look despite him being around your age when the incident happened. But the person who stood before you was a lot different.
This man is rugged and muscular. His cheekbones are much more pronounced, and his pale blue eyes are set deep in their sockets. Gentle yet battle-hardened. All that boyishness has dissipated.
"Leon," he said, stretching a gloved hand toward yours. 
You stuttered your name through shivering lips, your hand meeting Leon's in a firm shake.
His tactful eyes scanned you, assumedly noting how cold you were.
"We really should get going. I've been holed up in a cabin only a few miles from here."
"Gladly, I'm freezing my ass off." 
Without any further small talk, Leon leads the way, setting out once again for the dark, unforgiving woods.
── ・ 。☆*☽*☆゚.──
"Make yourself comfortable; I'll get a fire going," Leon said, opening the door for you before heading back outside for firewood. 
You threw your pack onto the ground beside the fireplace. The room was completely dark, except for the small path illuminated by your headlamp.
You fumbled a matchbook out of your pocket and started to light the myriad of taper candles around the cabin. 
Warm candlelight flooded the room, illuminating the interior of the gothic-style cabin. It was constructed of dark, ashy wood—the walls, the floor, the ceiling, and everything else.
Eclectic, mismatched carpets overlapped each other. And dark red curtains pooled along the ornate windows.
He called it a cabin, but the interior was rather grand.
Your heavy .22 caliber rifle had been digging into your back for hours, so you peeled it off with a relieving sigh. As you set it down on the wooden dining table, it made a hollow metallic clunk. You stripped off your other heavy layers onto the table, like your machete and belt, but kept on your fur-lined outerwear. Inside wasn't that much warmer.
With a heavy boot, Leon kicked open the front door, cradling wood in his forearms. With him, a gust of snow flurries blew into the cabin. He again kicked the door closed behind him and dumped the wood beside the fireplace.
"The snow is picking up again. You got here at the right time," Leon said, striking a match and tossing it into a pile of kindling inside the stone hearth.
You sit on a deep red Victorian-style couch in front of the fireplace. You sighed and kicked your boots up onto the coffee table.
"You call this place a cabin?" You say as your hand brushes the fine velvet upholstery of the couch.
"Well, when you see the rest of this village, you'll see why this place is considered just a cabin."
"These cultists must be the extravagant type then, huh?"
Leon piled wood onto the roaring fire, the crackling glow illumining his features. He stepped back from the heat and faced you, pulling off his heavy jacket. "Yeah, to say the least. They're greedy fuckers with bloodlines full of wealth. These gaudy homes just scratch the surface."
"So, now my real question is—how did you weasel your way in? How are you seriously posing as a cult member?" You stretched your shaky hands towards the fire, desperate for warmth. "You can't be serious that you, an American, just waltzed into a French village and are pretending to play cultist," you said with heavy speculation, your stern eyes meeting his.
Leon's lip ticked, calm eyes unbreaking from yours.
"They have plenty of outlets funneling within the United States, which gave us the perfect opening. We intercepted communications from a faction of theirs based in the States and used them as a bleed for information. Eventually, it was requested that they, we, send over a high-ranking nobility to come to France to one, act as a messenger, and two, be part of their transformation ritual."
"And that's where you came in?"
Leon's face went grave.
"Yeah, I trained to be and act like one of them. I learned every piece of information we know about this narcissistic vampire cult and its deviant religion. I've had to change everything about my life and thinking to be here. It's been months kissing ass in the hope of more information."
The room was becoming increasingly warm, and you started to feel claustrophobic in your winter clothing. You began to shed your layers of outerwear. 
"That sounds awful. I can't believe you've made it out here, alone, for so long..." you paused for a moment but resumed, "but please, tell me that it has been worth it."
The question loomed thick in the air as you struggled with your boots, eventually kicking them off and walking to the fire to warm your cold, damp feet. 
You could really get a good look at Leon here. He wore a tight black shirt that emphasized his muscular build and black cargo pants. His complexation looked soft against the warm firelight, juxtaposing the intensity of his prominent features.
He, too, seemed to be taking in your appearance as you sauntered toward the light. What he was thinking about was absolutely unknown, as he remained stone-faced.
"It has," he said, breaking the silence. "It has been worth it."
Leon's eyes drifted to his hands as if in a trance.
"What we now know about the cultists can completely change the course of this fight. But as I push forward, it's not going to be easy. I don't think this is going to end smoothly. That's why I needed backup." Leon cleared his throat. But there is a catch, too."
His eyes darted up to meet yours. You tensed, straightening your back, an inquisitive eyebrow raised. 
"The king, that fucking king, wants me to bring my lover."
Although you were briefed on this situation prior, nothing could have prepared you for hearing it from him directly. 
You laughed-- partly to ease the tension, but mainly because the mission-altering crux for the honored agent is his girlfriend.
"It's crazy, I know, but it couldn't be a more perfect invitation to bring another agent in." His cheeks flushed with the slightest hue of red.
"Please, tell me how you got into this situation in the first place". You tried to contain your laughter but failed.
Leon breathed an exasperated sigh.
"Well, the Lords, false prophets more like, banter about their romantic conquests. And well, after they all had drowned on about all the unsavory details, they looked at me, awaiting what story I had to tell."
"And what did you tell 'em?"
"I did what I had to do. I made up stories about having a girlfriend at home... And whatever else would keep them from asking too many questions." 
You nodded.
"They also bring their women to the castle and flaunt them like furs. Sometimes, it's literally for their blood. Most of the time, it's just to stroke their own ego by having pretty women hanging off them." Leon added.
Of course, the power-hungry vampire kings saw women as conquests. Ultimately, it shouldn't surprising that it would come to this.
── ・ 。☆*☽*☆゚.──
It's been a long, long day.
You have all the information you need at this point, and the exhaustion is quickly overtaking you. 
You yawn with outstretched arms, relaxing them to rub your heavy eyelids. Your body is finally warm, and you realize how well the bone-chilling cold kept you awake. 
"I'll show you to your room," Leon said, helping you collect the things you dumped around the room. He led you down a darkened hallway to your bedroom.
"There are some clothes and a few other things you may need. If you need anything else, my room is just across the hall," he stated, setting your things down. 
"Is there anything I need to know about tomorrow?" You added before Leon could step out of the room. 
"You'll have the day to adjust. We'll go over the mission then. Just focus on resting up for now."
His lips came to a subtle smile, "Goodnight."
You smiled back, "Goodnight to you too."
You surveyed the room, starting with the armoire. It was full of clothes that looked like they were from another time: grand dresses with sheer, lacy fabrics of black and red with low sweeping necklines. There was also a long black hooded cape, corsets, and tall-heeled boots. The drawers below housed underwear and pajamas. 
You slipped off your dingy clothes for a long black strappy nightgown from the armoire.
You hid your weapons around the room, your rifle, machete, and extra ammo in the closet, your knives in the vanity, and your pistol tucked under the mattress. 
Like the rest of the decor, the bed was ornate. It was intricately carved out of the same ashwood as the cabin. The white sheets were plush and soft to the touch.
After securing your room, you crawled into bed. Falling almost immediately into sleep. 
── ・ 。☆*☽*☆゚.──
Blinding white winter's light singed your vision as you woke up in a panic, a persistent cracking noise echoed from outside. It was a splintering sound as if someone was trying to get in.
You stealthily crawled out of bed and cracked open the bedroom curtain to peer outside. Nothing of interest could be seen, only the quiet woods blanketed by fresh snow.
The woods were now illuminated by sunshine, making them appear significantly less intimidating than last night. That didn't make them any less haunting, though.
Pistol in hand, You tiptoed through the house in search of Leon. First, you knocked on his bedroom door, and when he didn't answer, you investigated the rest of the house. 
There were no signs of Leon, only the smell of something cooking and the sound of that grating thudding noise echoing through the house. 
You silently opened the front door and exited barefoot, the coldness of the snow against your skin sending shivers up your spine. The satin fabric of your nightgown offered no protection from the elements.
One step at a time, you sneaked around the side of the house. The thudding got louder with each pace, and your heartbeat raced with adrenaline.
Carefully, You rounded the corner to the source of the noise. Arms straight, gun drawn.
Leon's eyes, bewildered, raked your figure, and he huffed a laugh, "Good morning, super cop. You must be freezing."
He looked down the barrel of the gun before you put it down.
He was just chopping wood.
Clearly, your senses were on high alert. You felt embarrassed that something so trivial and ordinary ticked those mental alarms.
Defensively, you retorted, "Well, I'm not the one chopping wood in a creepy vampire town first thing in the morning! For God's sake, I thought someone was breaking in or attacking!" You huffed, crossing your arms, a once panicked stare turning to one of annoyance.
Leon dropped the axe in the snow, reaching for a large piece of wood. 
"And coming outside, in the dead of winter, wearing only a nightgown would have made a difference?" Leon said with a smirk, but it dropped quickly as he again reached for the axe to chop another piece of wood.
"And a gun! You seemed to have missed that part, and what else was I supposed to do? Spend 10 minutes putting my gear on?" You argued with a pout. Muscles tensed as adrenaline melted away.
You were still waking up and not in the mood to argue. But yes, you definitely could have kicked ass in your pajamas.
"Okay, okay, I promise I'm done pestering you. Breakfast is on the stove. You should go eat." 
Begrudgingly, you walked back inside, mumbling your frustrations to yourself. It's safe to say you're not a fan of rude awakenings.
While lounging on the couch, you ate the breakfast of eggs and bacon Leon had prepared. You flipped through your logbook, filling in everything that happened in the last 24 hours.
Leon opened the front door, shaking off his snow-covered clothing before entering. He'd been out there for hours, and it was evident in the sweat that lingered down the side of his forehead. 
Standing in the foyer, Leon peeled off his brown fur-lined bomber jacket and casually pulled the sweat-drenched black t-shirt over his head.
You watched him from where you sat on the couch, a bit confused as he acted as if no one was around.
You got a glimpse of the toned plane that was his back. He stretched his arms out, unintentionally giving you a better view. He rolled out his sore shoulder blades for a moment, and you discreetly watched from the corner of your eye.
You stifled whatever the fuck that feeling was and resumed your logbook. 
In an attempt to find some grievance, you cleared your throat. It was subtle enough not to seem suspicious but clear enough that Leon definitely heard you. 
But you're sure he was aware of you the entire time.
Leon walked toward the hallway and said, "I have a business to take care of at the castle; when I get back, we'll go over what's expected for the mission tomorrow. You'll find the notebook I've kept about these people on the bookshelf. You should skim it to familiarize yourself."
He walked into the bathroom without waiting for your reply. The only sound was the door shutting behind him.
Leon had left to take care of his end of the mission, and you remained alone in the cabin for the rest of the day. 
You bathed and changed into real clothes, skipping over the elaborate dresses in favor of the spare black jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt you packed. 
You left your bedroom to head to the living room but stopped at Leon's door adjacent to yours. 
You were curious about what his room looked like, and rightfully so. He was rather serious, not letting off much about his personal side. Even while working, other agents, like Jill Valentine, had more outward displays of self-identity. 
You wondered what the man behind the agent's identity was like, But you respectfully kept walking.
Typically, you're not overly curious about your cohorts, But people like Leon and Jill lived through the same tragedy you did. You often felt alone in your pain, But you found a sliver of comfort in knowing that you, in fact, were not.
You flipped through the very detailed notes Leon had taken. He explained the parasite they intended to use for "world domination," the pecking order amongst the rulers, detailed maps of the castle, and whatever else he found out. 
── ・ 。☆*☽*☆゚.──
"Hey, wake up," Leon said gently, nudging your shoulder. 
You woke up sitting on the floor, arms crossed and body hunched over the coffee table. 
Through blurry vision, you saw Leon beside you, wearing a fancy white dress shirt and a tie loose around his neck. 
"What time is it?" You mumbled, sitting up to stretch out your very numb legs. 
"Late—I got back about an hour ago, I made dinner if you're hungry."
Leon reached out a hand, and you took it. Grunting as he helped you up.
"Yeah, I am," You replied, your stomach grumbling.
You sat at the dining table with Leon. He prepared grilled veggies and chicken for dinner, which was surprisingly good. 
"How'd it go," you asked between bites. 
"Fine, everything is going according to plan. We're all set for tomorrow," Leon replied,
"What exactly are we doing tomorrow?" you raised an eyebrow.
"I'm sure you saw those dresses in your room. You'll have to wear one, but it's easy from there. You'll stay quiet and follow my lead. You'll have to act like my girlfriend. But it will also be a good time to familiarize yourself with the castle and, you know, memorize the layout." 
Leon took a sip of wine and offered you a gentle look, "Are you okay with that?"
You replied, "Of course I am. It's a pretty small price to pay to take these fuckers down." You flashed a cheeky grin before taking a sip of your wine. "We got this."
You continued to talk over dinner, going back and forth and sharing each other's backgrounds. You told Leon about your experience in Raccoon City— what had happened and how you'd escaped it. 
But for you, It was surreal hearing about Leon's involvement in the incident. Hearing about the people he saved, the enemies he took down, and the sacrifices he made were… Comforting. 
Comforting to know someone else could actually relate to you. 
Comforting to know there is hope.
You know there are scars deep below the surface—you know that from experience. But meeting someone who still cares so much about helping others proves that those wounds do, in fact, heal.
You and Leon cleaned up the kitchen before saying goodnight and heading to your rooms for the night.
You lay in your plush bed, unable to sleep. Your mind is whirring with a frenzy of emotions. Your conversation with Leon is still sinking in. The nerves concerning tomorrow's mission stake their claim. 
It's okay. It's okay.
You try to soothe yourself. Suppress whatever unreconciled emotions were brought up.
Just finish the mission.
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— PART II —
A beautifully lavish Victorian-style ball gown adorned your body. It has a flowing tiered skirt constructed from deep, blood-red satin. The bodice was corseted tightly to your abdomen, pushing your breasts up so that they are nearly spilling out of the gown's low square neckline. The quarter sleeves fit tightly but poof out at your elbows with frilly lace. The whole ensemble is accented with black bows and delicate lacework.
You watched yourself in the vanity mirror as you carefully pinned your hair up. Enchanted by the unfamiliar person the mirror reflected back.
This wasn't you. But a princess.
A princess who has never killed or witnessed the mass extinction of innocent people. A princess who didn't have to give up her normal life against her will.
Although seeing yourself dressed up like the beautiful person you'll never be was strange. But maybe, battle-scarred government agents could wear pretty dresses, sometimes.
With your hair set in place, you head to the living room, where you are met by Leon in an equally uncharacteristic outfit.
He took in your appearance, a smile decorating his face. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out.
You filled the silence instead. "You look nice." You spoke softly.
He did look nice.
Leon wore a billowy white shirt with ruffles along the neckline. The plunging neckline had a small corset-style detail, and it was tucked into a pair of perfectly fitted black trousers.
Simple, but effectively good-looking. The fit of his clothes came off as rich and a little romantic. Well suited for a band of vampires.
"As do you," Leon said, voice deep and restricted.
You hid your face by looking down at your shoes, concealing the growing flush along your cheeks. "Thank you." You said in almost a whisper.
"Are you ready?" he asked, offering his arm to you.
You nod in affirmation and thread your arm through his.
Leon led you through a little stone path through the woods. At this time, it was only about an hour before dusk.
The combination of winter woods and the near-setting sun created an image of beautiful calm. If you were to let your mind wander, It would feel like you were on a date, taking a stroll through the forest.
"I told you these cultists were sick bastards, right?" Leon said too casually.
You nod, "Yes, you definitely mentioned that."
The dense woods begin to clear, and the path leads to a small village. At the horizon, the pointed spikes of a grand castle make a lethal appearance. You take it all in, honing yourself into a covert weapon. Descending into this "character" of unexpected harm.
"And you understand that how I'll behave tonight is all a part of the act?" Leon asks for your assurance one last time before entering the village.
Your heels land on the cobblestone that had been cleared of snow. The warm glow of the town's candlelight radiates as the sun begins to set.
Making brief eye contact with a villager, you squeeze Leon's arm a little tighter and murmur, "I could say the same to you, my lord." A wicked smile now painted your face.
Leon whispered lowly, "Glad to see you're committed to the bit."
As a pair, you two walked through the town's main pathway, a straight shot to the looming castle ahead. You noted that the townspeople were off. 
Very, very off.
They behaved more like mindless zombies than people; their eyes glowed crimson red. Most of them just walked by idly, with no sense of purpose. Others stood hauntingly still, staring at you so intensely you felt it in your soul.
Even the farm animals that lingered on the streets were off. They walked erratically, and their eyes glowed, too.
This place gave you the creeps. Typical Umbrella.
Reaching the castle at last— It demanded your attention with its many oversized spires and massive arched windows. Light flowed red through the stained glass, adding to its intensity.
The snow-covered graveyard and cross-tipped spires informed you this wasn't just a castle but an unholy cathedral.
You had to walk through the graveyard to reach the entrance. You noted the tombstones engraved with outdated French names and dates as far back as the 1800s. It all added to the ancient terror surrounding the looming cathedral.
Upon arriving, the massive arched door began to creak open, and a man clad in a dark red suit greeted the two of you with a thick French accent. "Good evening, Sir Kennedy. We are so very pleased that you and your-" he paused, a sly smile forming, "madame, could make it."
Leon did not reply to the doorman.
He walked past with his head held high and eyes peering downwards. His look emanated superiority as if he had no interest in conversation with a man so far below him.
Leon grabbed your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, guiding you up the curved stairs that dominated the foyer.
You passed servants who wore simple, white, floor-length dresses with aprons and bonnets. Each servant stopped in their tracks to bow their head as you, he, walked past.
The action sent chills down your spine.
What was the true extent of power he reached in this so-called monarchy?
You arrived at a grand arched doorway swirled with ornamental gold detailing. Two men opened the doors in unison, letting you through.
Elegant music flooded the huge open ballroom. Orchestral pianos and violins serenaded your ears.
People waltzed, people drank wine, people talked, and the vampires watched.
On the dais, the looming darkness of men sitting on ornate thrones watched the every move of the people below.
Every seat was occupied except for one.
Everything suddenly stopped. The music went silent, and the people parted, bowing their heads down.
Slowly, you two approached the dais, Standing hand in hand at the steps. The man who sat in the centermost seat smiled devilishly. "Glad you could make it, Lord Kennedy." His French accent was thick.
Leon bowed his head. "Of course, your majesty."
"Why would you want to miss a ball as extravagant, as special, as this one, anyways? Lord Kennedy, we wouldn't want to disappoint our guest, wouldn't we?"
The Lord ticked an eyebrow, reaching a pale, lanky hand to you.
Leon's breath seized but quickly relaxed as he let go of your hand, hinting for you to accept.
You gracefully walked the steps, rhythmically breathing in and out to offset the heavy heartbeat that accompanied each step. The air loomed cold and silent as the echoes of your footsteps filled the hall.
The King was pale as fresh snow, with icy blue veins protruding from his skin. His eyes were glowing red, and long black hair cascaded down his shoulders to his chest. He wore an ornate gold, black, and red suit and a crown topped his head. He looked as if he was once very handsome, but now, he is not so good-looking.
You rested your hand on him, avoiding eye contact. His freezing touch sent a shiver through you.
The King lowered his head and placed a prolonged kiss on the back of your hand. His left hand grabbed your upper arm, turning it so your wrist faced upward. He ran his fingers down your arm, resting on your wrist. A devilish grin formed on his thin lips, presumably from the pleasure in whatever he found in you.
His head raised, but his hand remained fixed on your wrist. You made eye contact this time. His gleaming eyes burrowing into yours.
You could feel your hot blood running against his cold touch. Your pulse filled the silence of the too-quiet ballroom. You wanted to run, but not without a fight, and get out of this Umbrella Corporation daymare.
"Ma chérie," he whispered into your skin.
There is no running. No fighting. Today, you must pretend.
Leon stood beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist, his eyes dark, looking down at the still-seated King.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Leon asked rhetorically, a bite in his tone.
The Lord laughed, releasing your hand.
"No need to be so overbearing, Leon. N'aie pas peur. Please sit and join your fellow nobility."
The last empty chair was his. You scanned the other taken thrones. Some of the men were already turned, marked distinctively by glowing, crimson eyes and a lifeless complexion.
Although some, like Leon, had not yet been turned.
From your reading the previous day, you learned that in the eyes of the cult immortality was a privilege, not a right. They believed one must earn that privilege by dedicated service to the organization before even being considered.
Leon took a seat, relaxing on his throne. You stood beside him awkwardly, not entirely knowing what to do. But, with a tap at your side, you figured it out.
You perched on Leon's lap, your billowy dress flowing over his legs and spilling like blood onto the marble floor. He wrapped a hand around your corseted abdomen, and the other rested in your lap.
Your heart raced a little harder.
"You must be in need of a drink." The King asked.
"Some music would be nice, too," Leon said with a scoff loud enough for musicians on the floor to hear.
The music resumed, and again, the bowing people began dancing. Still, it was finally replaced by the movement and energy of song and dance.
One of the white dress servants arrived with two glasses full of red wine upon a silver platter. Leon made no effort to grab them, so you took them both, passing one off to him.
Leon pressed his lips up to your ear, "drink up, baby," he whispered.
You almost forgot— even your whispers could be herd by the immortal's keen hearing. Every thing that was said, even in a murmur, had to be in line.
It was strange to hear him talk like that, but admittedly you weren't bothered. Although the closeness was unexpected, It's been a long time since you were this close to someone. It had been a year? Maybe two? Since you were at all intimate with another person.
It felt good. He radiated warmth, his touch was gentle, and his handsomeness unmatched.
You downed your glass while Leon sipped on his. His scanning eyes watched the crowd, occasionally flickering back to the King but always ending on you.
He admired as your painted lips caressed the edge of the fine crystal wine glass and how your throat bobbed with each drink.
He called for a refill and demanded more, which the servants promptly fulfilled, And they kept it coming. After every glass you two emptied, they refilled.
Amongst themselves, Leon and the vampire Lords talked about courtly business. and as they talked, Leon's large hands ran down your leg, pulling up your skirt, and exposing up to your knee.
They were talking about war, and all rather intense subject matters. But Leon's hand kept working higher up your legs. Petting and caressing every bit of exposed skin. The King couldn't look away, neither could the other lords, or even the people below.
He used you as a spectacle, to assert his dominance, and power over the rest of the court, and it worked. The commoners were afraid of him, and the lords respected him. He mastered the facade of villainous superiority that belittled all in its path. One that possessed his lover entirely and wanted the world to know it.
His lavish touch across your legs, mixed with the headiness of the wine, brought you to a euphoric state. Coaxed by his affection, you can't help but submit.
Your back arched into his abdomen, yearning for more touch. You could not recall any of the words spoken around you, only the ecstasy of his lips meeting your neck. A soft whisper of a kiss was all he gave you, but your breathing hitched, and your body heated.
You were damned. Damned for liking it as much as you did.
He paused for a moment. Only a minute's break in time, and he still left you internally begging like a dog.
"My, my, what a statement you're making, Lord Kennedy. You plan on sharing?" The King taunted, practically drooling at your bare, pawing legs.
You spoke for the first time the entire night, causing every member of the court's head (that wasn't already) to turn.
"No."
You shot an arrow through the King's fragile pride.
The King's lip twitched. "What a defiant whore you managed to fish up."
Leon laughed, grinning wildly, "Oh, well, you should see how well she obeys me." He patted your thigh in approval, placing an absolutely panty-drenching kiss along your neck.
The King rolled his eyes, but lords couldn't hide their amusement as they stifled back laughter.
Leon rested his knuckle under your chin, "Go on, my love, apologize."
The King retorted snappily, "There's no need for that."
Thank God.
You took an extra large drink of wine to ease the tension, falling back into Leon's warm chest.
They continued on as if nothing ever happened, talking about things you knew nothing about.
Leon listened, cool and aloof, but his hands satiated your need. He resumed the game of inching higher up your leg. His warm fingers trace dizzying circles along your inner thigh.
His calloused fingers felt rough and masculine against your velvet soft skin. He squeezed your thigh, accidentally eliciting a lusty whimper from you.
"You like that, don't you, pretty girl?" Leon's breath grazed along your neck, his lips taunting you mere centimeters away from your bare skin.
You pressed your back into the hardness of his body, a needy and desperate attempt for more—more of his lavish touch. You didn't even care who saw.
You turned a cheek, sharing Leon's darkened, sultry gaze. The usual warmth in his pale blue eyes was totally vacant. He observed you like prey, nothing more than a deer in the crosshairs.
The hand that rested on your waist dragged up to your face and cupped your jaw, his thumb petting your lip, transferring your red lipstick to his skin.
His grip on your thigh intensified, digging hard into your skin. Your lips parted with a soft gasp, and your legs opened wider in response to his touch.
Hunter and hunted.
Leon bit his lip as he slid his finger into your mouth. Your lips puckered pretty around his finger, and Leon watched in feral attraction as you teased him with the tip of your tongue. You oozed confidence and sultry submission, letting your doe eyes do the talking.
The lines between the act and reality truly blurred.
The way he touched you felt too real, too right. You craved more than just the teasing.
As if in an answer, Leon's hands migrated lower and lower down your abdomen. Finally, working to where you craved most. But, he couldn't find the proof of how good he made you feel. Your soaking wet underwear would be damning to your case.
In a desperate attempt, you arched your back, attempting to pull yourself away from his wandering touch. In turn, you could feel the unmistakable hardness in his pants pressing against your back.
Oh, he wanted you too. At this stage, you both should just be condemned.
The on-lookers watched from below as you pressed into Leon's length. You ground yourself against him. Your skin glowed with sweat, and strands of hair were falling from your updo and swept around your face.
There were no secrets in the way you felt; you practically radiated sex, intimacy, and everything in between.
One of Leon's hands dragged up your body and grasped your ribcage directly under your breast. The other rested on your collarbones. He pulled your ear to his lips and whispered, "Don't let it go to your head."
You swallowed, heart racing. "What?"
Leon's arrogant grin now pressed against your ear. "That every man in this room is imagining themselves in my place. Don't forget that you belong to me, darling."
"I would never-" You were cut short by Leon's grip tightening around your abdomen.
"Don't patronize me," he demanded, but his white-knuckle grip loosened and transformed into apologetic strokes down your side.
"Yes, my lord." Sweet and submissive.
The King seemed to approve, as marked by an appraising nod he shared with Leon.
A servant walked by, head hung low, and Leon's voice cracked like thunder. "Wine, now." Pure demand in his voice.
You drank the seemingly bottomless glasses of wine Leon ordered. You should have stopped, but you drank on to avoid any unfavorable conversations.
Tonight, you learned that French vampires love to drink.
The night grew late-- You, Leon, and the other Lords were drunker than sailors. Conversations of importance were divulged into off-topic chit-chat and banter. The people below slow-danced to the soft ballads that hummed through the castle.
It was a struggle to stay awake. All the wine, the music, the expectations, the teasing. It tired you out. Your head lay in Leon's chest, soaking up his sent-- Open sky and rugged woods. Your dainty hands gracefully stroked his exposed chest, painting little circles, occasionally your hands reached up to play with his pretty blonde hair. Leon languidly stroked your arm, head resting lazily to the side.
Leon sat up, shifting you with him, and cleared his throat, "My king, It's been a pleasure, but we should head back now."
"Why don't you just say the night? I would hate to see your poor madame walk all the way back to your... Maison, this late."
You and Leon exchanged a look; you weren't exactly sure if he had accounted for this in his plan. Your eyebrows threaded together, a look of annoyance and confusion, but Leon quickly turned away.
"What a hospitable offer, your highness." He responded eloquently. He knew that someone who was actually in his place would never reject an offer like that.
"It's the least I can do for you, Lord Kennedy; after all, you've been so dedicated to our cause." A sly villain-like smirk formed on the King's lips.
Leon politely bowed his head in acknowledgment.
The King snapped his fingers, and without an exchange of words, a servant was at the throne you and Leon shared.
You both stood up and followed her, hand in hand.
You passed by the other Lords still seated along the dais. Their prowling eyes raked your body as you walked by. Leon was right; you were in everyone's minds. Stripped bare and doing unspeakable things to them.
It repulsed you to be thirsted over by depraved vampire lords, but in some sacrilegious facet of your mind, you were flattered by it. You even walked in a way that accentuated your hips, teasing them just a little more.
You were just passing the King's throne when suddenly someone grabbed your arm. It was the King who had implored his icy hand around your arm, pulling you into him. You gasped as he bent you over the armrest of his throne and placed a kiss on your cheek. "Bonne nuit, ma chérie" He whispered in your ear.
He activated your desire to fight back; you wanted to place your hands around the scrawny King's neck and kill him right there. You could without any resistance, too.
But, you suppressed your urge. Sweet and submissive, you told yourself. You already got yourself in enough trouble with your previous stunt, best not to ruin it now.
"Goodnight, your Highness," you muttered back as dainty and feminine as you could manage.
The King released you, and as you took a step back, you were in Leon's chest; his arms were quick to wrap around you, like a knight in shining armor waiting for his princess.
As you left the dais, the people of the ballroom once again stopped dancing, and bowed as you and Leon walked through, escorted by the servant.
She showed you to your room, opened the door, bowed, and left promptly.
The room was entirely white and gold, similar in design to the rest of the castle, but featuring a giant bed in the middle of the room with a canopy of pooling gauzy fabric.
"What are we supposed to do now?" you whispered once the door was closed behind you.
Leon rubbed the temples of his forehead as if he had a headache, "I'm not sure. I didn't expect him to want us to stay the night."
You looked around the room, unsure of what to do now. "Should we escape?"
Leon peaked his head out the window, surveying the area, "That's an option, but risky," he muttered. "It would blow our cover when they inevitably found us gone. The plan was to kill the nobility a few days from now, on the full moon. That's when they're planning on turning one of the human lords immortal."
"Why does it have to be then? Can't it just be now? They're all drunk and lounging around, for God's sake!" You accidentally raised your voice, and Leon shushed you by pressing his finger to your lips.
"When they turn someone immortal, they have to use the parasite... The plan is to steal the parasite during the ceremony and then kill them. We need to bring it back to America so it can be studied.
But, I haven't been able to find where they store them; as far as I'm aware, only the King knows. That's why I've been waiting for the ceremony."
"So... We stay?" you said defeatedly.
"Unfortunately."
You looked around the room, rummaging through the wardrobe and the various drawers throughout. Everything was empty except for the Holy Bible in a desk drawer.
"You can have the bed, I'll take the couch." Leon offered kicking off his boots before sitting on the small white and gold couch.
"That couch is so small, you can have the bed." You tried to negotiate.
"No, no, it's all yours. I've slept on much worse than this." He said, stretching his legs out along the couch. It was too short for him, so his feet dangled off the armrest.
You sighed; there's no point in arguing.
"Well, I can't sleep in this dress. It weighs about 20lbs, and it's too damn hot."
"There was no spare clothes?" Leon asked.
"Nope."
Leon looked around the room, eyebrows stitched together in thought, before he resolved, "You can have my shirt."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, It's no trouble at all, really."
Leon remained where he was on the couch, eyes closed.
You stood on the other side of the room, fumbling with the corseting on your dress, unable to unlace it. "How the hell did I even get this on earlier?" you mumbled to yourself.
Leon's eyes perked open, watching you struggle. He cleared his throat, "Do you need help with that?"
You didn't answer but still struggled.
Leon took it upon himself to help you. He walked over and began unlacing the many rows of tight lacing along the back of your dress.
"Thank you," you said so very quietly.
"I wanted to apologize for earlier, I—"
You cut him off, "Don't—You don't have to apologize. I understand, truly."
Silence loomed over the room, and only the sound of fabric rustling filled the void. You tried to find the right words to say, but you came up empty-handed.
Leon reached the last eyelet, and you held the gown at the bust so it wouldn't fall off. Although you admittedly wouldn't mind if it did.
Your back was entirely exposed to him, only inches away from pressing against his chest. Your mind slipped— what if you took a step back? Let him do what you want him to do. Let him explore your body even more than he did earlier.
His strong hands could surely do a lot, and his pretty blonde hair would look great between your legs—
God damn.
Leon broke your silent daydream by taking off his white-ruffled shirt. He handed it off to you at your side, gentlemen-like.
He meandered back to the couch, resuming his position of outstretched legs along the cushions, closing his eyes.
You checked over your shoulder to ensure his eyes were closed, and then you let your dress fall to the ground.
You dawned Leon's shirt. The cottony fabric felt soft against your skin and smelled overwhelming like him, rugged and masculine.
In the mirror, you watched yourself let down your updo, letting your hair fall and combing it out with your fingers. Here is where you noticed that Leon's shirt is just a little too sheer.
The outline of your silhouette was vaguely noticeable through his airy shirt, but your nipples were definitely visible.
Oh well.
You folded up the gown and placed it at the foot of the bed atop the quilted velvet ottoman. You were about to get into bed before peaking one more glance at Leon.
He was statuesque in the way his body stretched along the couch. He had a hand atop his very defined abs, and his other arm dangled off the couch.
The faint blueish hue of the moon illuminated him in gentle light, it was the only light in the room, save for the single lit candle next to the bed.
Leon was so pretty in the way he slept. He looked so at peace, so beautiful, and so kissable.
It pained you to not invite him to your bed; maybe in another lifetime, you would have.
But you certainly could not let him sleep without a blanket or a pillow.
You peeled off the first blanket layer of your bed, grabbed one of the many over-filled pillows, and tiptoed to where Leon rested.
Gently, you set a folded blanket on the foot of Leon's bed, causing him to open his eyes.
"What are you doing?" Leon's mumble trailed off into a yawn.
You whispered, "I don't want you to get cold, so I'm giving you some of my blankets."
Leon smiled faintly. "Oh, I see…" he trailed off and then added, "Thanks for that."
You looked pretty; your hair and makeup were a mess but in all the right ways.
Leon noticed how pretty you were. How pretty you were in his shirt, with nothing else underneath.
"I hope this is enough for you."
"Yes, it's more than enough," he reassured.
"I'm going to head to my bed then, goodnight Leon."
He didn't show it, and you would never know it, but he loved how you said his name.
"Goodnight to you, too."
In that moment, time stood still. You couldn't walk away. You wanted to bask in the shared space of each other's gazes, bound by lust. Leon, too, made no attempt to break away.
You'll probably regret it later, but there is no harm in trying, right?
Instead of leaving, you bent down as if to pick something up, but you stopped when you reached his ear.
"Leon..." You whispered quietly.
"Yes?"
Your heartbeat raced so fast it felt like it was gonna jump out of your chest. "Do you really want me to go?"
Leon paused, raking his mind for the correct answer. "No."
He turned his head, pressing his forehead to yours, and resting his hand on the back of your neck, running his fingers through your hair.
"I didn't want to either," you said breathily.
He smiled and kissed you. The first real kiss you shared. It felt like a wave of warmth crashing down your body, every one of your instincts telling you yes. His lips were soft and gentle against your own.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Leon whispered into the kiss.
You replied, "Me neither."
Leon pulled you by your waist, sitting you on top of him, and deepened the kiss by grazing his tongue against yours. He tasted purely of wine.
Your hands ran desperately through Leon's hair as his hands caressed your ribcage down to your hips. His grasp settled onto your waist, stroking his thumbs along your ribs. You playfully bit his lip, praising the way he touched you.
Leon's lips broke away from yours, and they began to press small kisses down your cheek, and then your neck, and then your chest. Every single one felt like pure ecstasy against your skin.
Your arms wrapped around Leon's neck as you arched your back, pressing your chest deeper into his kiss. His grasp along your waist tightened with your movement.
He was aching and so hard in the confined trousers he still wore; Leon rocked you against himself while he made out with your chest.
You moaned with gasping breaths at the feeling of him rutting into you, your head falling back carelessly.
Leon's hand met the spots he kissed, dancing along the wet skin of your chest. His wandering fingers teased the outer edge of the shirt you wore, wanting to pull it down. His lips followed down the V of the shirt, But before he could do anything more, you raised your arms, slipping the shirt over your head.
You were entirely exposed to him, save for your underwear. Leon thanked you by pressing kisses along your pretty breasts, thumbs twirling around your hardened nipples. His lips met where his thumbs danced, puckering his lips around your nipples, stroking and sucking them with his tongue.
You gasped, nearly at the edge of becoming undone. Leon worshipped your breasts like his own personal deity, letting out low, strained moans.
You lost all sense of control, grinding yourself into Leon's bulging lap, getting off at the sensation of his cock twitching for you.
"More," You moaned as Leon released the suck on your nipple with a wet-sounding smack.
You pressed down on Leon's chest, pushing him into the couch.
God, you looked so lovely and desperate from Leon's perspective.
Your hands slipped between your legs, resting on the bulge that strained between them. You caressed him through the fabric, teasing him with a pouty smirk.
Leon's mouth gaped slightly, sucking in a breath as he watched you adore him. You nimbly unbuttoned his pants, pulling down the zipper.
Leon sat up and pushed you back so your legs wrapped around his waist. He stood up, picking you up with ease, and walked you to the bed, gently resting you onto the fortress of overstuffed pillows.
He took off his trousers before joining you, his protruding cock making a tent in his underwear.
"You're beautiful," Leon fawned at your figure before bending down to kiss your thighs. "I loved touching your legs earlier, darling," he added.
You're fully melting at his sugar-covered affections.
You sat up, taking Leon's head in your delicate hands with a devouring kiss. You pulled him back, so he laid on top of you. One of his arms embraced you, and the other brushed between your legs.
His fingers toyed with you, sweetly caressing you through your soaked underwear. You moaned into the kiss as Leon began tracing small circles over the fabric. His hands then nuzzled beneath your underwear, meeting your aching sex fully.
His calloused fingers lapped your cunt, but ended on your clit, circling it gently. You broke from his kiss, head arching back from the intensity of pleasure you felt. Leon licked his lips as he watched you fold under him. Leon tugged off your underwear, deepening your pleasure as he rubbed his fingers around your opening.
Your hands, in desperate need of touch, caressed the expanse of Leon's amazingly defined torso. It alone killed you, the sheer strength he possessed. He was trained into a lethal weapon, but man, did he feel so good.
From Leon's torso, you ventured lower, tugging at the waistband of his underwear. Leon's gaze met your begging doe eyes, pleading him for more.
With your help, he pulled off his underwear, releasing his pretty, throbbing cock. Your hand softly wrapped around his length, petting him slowly. Leon's breath hitched as you did so.
You wrapped a leg around Leon's waist, pulling yourself up to straddle him. Perched on his lap, you rested your soaking cunt onto the length of his cock. Leon's hands dug into your hips, grinding his himself against your folds.
"Leon," you gasped, soaking in the feeling of him beneath you.
He moaned, hungrily watching the way your bodies met.
He sat up, pressing his chest against your stomach, and pressed kisses along your breasts. As he did so, he lifted you up by the waist, giving himself just enough space to push his length into you.
Loudly, you whimpered as his length filled your entire cunt. You bounced yourself on Leon as he sucked your nipples.
Leon released you from his mouth, lying back down, fingers digging into your upper thighs as he fucked himself into you hard. Letting his entire length fill you up before pulling back.
You couldn't help your hopeless cries and moans as his pace picked up, fucking you like the world depended on it. Maybe it did.
You were a few forceful pumps away from reaching your peak, and as you forced yourself into him even deeper, Leon lifted you up by the waist, off of him.
Dazed, you whined, "Why."
He only responded by nudging you over onto your hands and knees, spreading your legs wide for himself.
Leon's cock pressed at your entrance while his hand toyed with your clit, teasing you. He so very slowly pushed himself in, making you feel every inch of his length as he entered you.
"Just like that," he hushed under a moan and then rammed his cock into you, building up speed, fucking you faster and faster.
Your nails dug into the bed sheets, reaching for something that does not exist. Leon smacked your ass with a deep moan as his tip reached even deeper inside of you.
The only noise filling the room was the sound of your skin clapping against his and your shared feverish moans.
"You feel so good," you cooed, pawing at the sheets. "I don't think I can last much longer."
He slowed down his pace, pulling his cock almost entirely out of you before inching himself back in. "You can last just a little longer for me, pretty girl."
"Okay, yes, please just fuck me harder," you pleaded. Grinding yourself on his length, desperate for more than he was giving.
"Well, since you asked so nicely," Leon groaned and fucked you so hard that the bed was shaking back and forth. His arm reached up from behind, grasping your neck in his hand. He was hunched over you, fingers squeezing your jaw as he plunged deeper and faster.
His teeth were clenched, and his breath was fast as he burrowed his throbbing cock so far into your cunt that you came completely undone, crying his name as you rode your climax out.
"Leon, Leon, Leon," you cried as your wetness dripped down his leg.
Leon's breath seized as he pulled himself out of you, resting his cock on the small of your back, spilling hot all over your skin.
His grasp loosened, trailing down your neck. His head rested on your back, reeling himself back from his climax.
You rested your body, splaying yourself along the bed. Leon got off of you and frantically looked around the room for something to wipe your back with. He settled on the blanket you had left for him on the couch, thinking to himself, their problem, not mine.
"Thanks," you giggled as he cleaned you off.
He crawled into bed, tucking into the massive billowy covers, and you did the same. You blew out the single candle next to the bedside, leaving only moonlight to douse the room.
Leon opened up his arm, beckoning you into his embrace.
You cuddled him, soaking up his scent and his warmth. All while relishing in the tingling euphoria your body felt.
"Goodnight, for real?" Leon said quietly, sleep heavy in his voice.
"Goodnight, for real, Leon." Your heavy lids shut, falling into sleep.
── ・ 。☆*☽*☆゚.──
You wake up on Leon's chest to a knock at the door. The morning sun singed the pounding headache induced by last night's wine-filled activities.
Leon woke up, too, wincing and rubbing his temples. He got out of bed, pulling on his underwear and pants.
Leon's hair was a disheveled mess, and the remnants of your lipstick still stained his neck and his cheek. He answered the door to one of the servants standing there.
She bowed, her thick French accent trembling. "Lord Kennedy, I apologize if I interrupted, but the king wants a word with you."
"Can you show me to the bath first? You can't seriously expect me to talk to him looking like this?" he sounded harsh, and you almost forgot about the character he had to play.
Her voice trembled. "Yes, of course, sir. Not that you look bad, but yes, I'll show you to the bath."
"And her too," the servant peaked her head through the doorway, under the arm that Leon propped himself up with, and saw you, sitting up in bed, covering your naked body with the duvet.
She immediately ducked back in line, "Yes, of course." she bowed her head once more.
Leon tossed you his shirt, which was lying on the ground beside the couch. Quickly put it on, and with a motion of his hand, Leon summoned you to him.
You acted shy, meekly hiding behind Leon.
"Follow me, My lord," The servant hushed, trailing you two down the hallway.
As you tiptoed down the hall, you were barefoot and more exposed than you cared to be. It felt slightly embarrassing, but there was no point in caring now, was there? At least you found amusement in a shirtless Leon.
The servant guided Leon to a bathroom for himself. She signaled him in with her hand while her head was low.
Before he entered, he added, looking down at the servant. "And get her a new dress, she can't go out looking like that... And she wouldn't be caught dead wearing her evening dress during the day, would she?" Leon sounded like an absolute asshole, but that was somehow amusing.
"Yes, my lord," She bowed for the 100th time.
He entered the bathing room, closing the door behind him, and the servant showed you to another bathroom.
── ・ 。☆*☽*☆゚.──
You bathed in a massive clawfoot tub, sweet floral soap washing off all the makeup and memories of last night.
You were not sure how to even feel about last night. You'd never slept with a coworker before; you barely sleep with anyone anymore. Is this going to make things awkward when you leave? Or are you to pretend nothing happened at all?
A servant knocked on the door, interrupting your silent pondering before letting herself in. She quietly hung a pretty cream-colored Victorian gown hanging behind the door.
"Madame, Lord Kennedy is speaking with the King. He has asked you to wait while they finish up. We prepared breakfast for you in the dining room in case they go long. When you're ready, the dining room is down the stairs and to the left."
Who are you kidding, there are more pressing issues ahead; you're bathing and being fed in a vampire cult's castle for God's sake.
"Thank you," you said sweetly.
The servant promptly left the bathroom with a bow.
Soon, you will eliminate these vile creatures and leave. You just have to tough it out a little longer. One more day of acting like a mild-tempered little plaything, and this will all be over.
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part two coming soon xx
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Bucky Barnes | Series | Loose
Part two of the Rebellion Series
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Plot: You and Bucky have no idea whether you can trust each other. There is an understanding, but you're not sure of what that understanding is and why it seems to run so deep.
Warning: Angst, violence and fluff (?)
Words: 4,1OO
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It is hard enough already for Bucky to fall asleep at night. Yes, it has gotten better in recent years, but there will always be that part of him – awake and aware – that registers every sound and movement, even when he should be knocked out. Though he wouldn’t admit it, that part of him sat more alert ever since you had joined the building. Perhaps because Bucky still wasn’t so confident in your allegiance.
He can’t stop overthinking it. He has seen what you’re capable of. Would you be capable of even more if people cornered you? If you felt like you had no other choice but to manipulate and kill your way out? After all, wasn’t it possible that you felt like you had moved from one prison to the next?
You’d been a delight at dinner two nights ago, but Bucky can’t turn off his brain. This is the part that made you win people over. The way you’d gotten along with Natasha like a house on fire, the way you’d shared stories like you and his team had been friends all along… Yet you had no trouble letting a side of yours slip through the cracks that tantalised Bucky beyond belief. The way you had looked at him, teased him–
The faintest rustle has Bucky shooting back to his current place in time. Lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. He holds his breath in an effort to hear better.
Nothing.
However, something doesn’t sit right. Something is off. He’d learned that hypervigilance was a side effect of his trauma, but he had a hard time believing his intuition would betray him like that. Not when he had relied on it so successfully for years.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” he whispers to the dark ceiling.
“Yes, sergeant Barnes?”
“Is everyone in their respectable rooms?” he tries.
“I cannot divulge that information,” the voice sounds and Bucky sighs. He musters up some strength and swings off his duvet before climbing out of bed.
Yeah, he doesn’t trust you for a second.
Your heart is pounding in your throat. This isn’t part of your skillset – the escape and combat. Though perhaps if you do the former correctly, you won’t have to resort to the latter. Escaping the compound had been surprisingly easy, which strangely made your chest hurt. It was way too easy to escape. But it made sense. Steve had told you that you weren’t being held captive and you being here was all in good faith.
Faith you just broke by making your escape.
You probably should have been more patient. Winning their trust a bit more and then making an escape, make sure they really don’t see it coming. But the dinner had made you antsy and impatient. You had to get out.
If you’re entirely honest with yourself, you know that getting attached to a new group of people and deciding to escape then – or worse, leading them into their demise later – would be worse than getting away now that no one has attached themselves to you. Or you to them…
Breaching the edge of the surrounding forest, you finally let go of the breath you’ve been holding. You did it. Out of sight, out of mind. You’re free. No more captivity, no more expectations. All you need to do now is leave the country, change your name and possibly dye your hair. Sounds easy enough. A bit dramatic, but not impossible.
That is, until you get dragged backwards by a hand over your mouth and you lose your footing. The hard body behind you is the only thing keeping you from tumbling to the muddy forest grounds. Your breathing is ragged as your hands both fly to grab the forearm attached to the hand covering your yelp.
The metal forearm.
“Rule number one of making your escape: never assume you’re in the clear,” Bucky’s voice rumbles through the night air, his mouth so very close to your ear. “Shouldn’t have dropped your guard when you reached the edge of the forest.”
His gloved hand removes itself from your mouth, but you know better than to make a run for it, or to scream. He twists you by your shoulders and you muster some playful guilt to your face, masking your disappointment. Disappointment… but you feel strangely relieved. Maybe the largeness of finally being free felt somewhat overwhelming. Move to another country and change your name? It’s ridiculous. And that, when the people here have been so patient and kind to you…
You let out a soft laugh, “Worth a shot, no?”
Bucky studies you intently and something in your gut stirs at it. Not even Natasha seems to have as good of a read on you as Bucky does. It makes you feel naked. Makes you feel like all of your carefully crafted plans are flimsy and no good. Makes you feel like you have to stay far, far away from Bucky. Like you need to run. Now.
And how the hell did he manage to figure out you were making your escape?
You wait for him to tell you off, preach against your indolence and call in backup to shove you into something more similar to a prison cell. But Bucky sighs, disappointed and tired.
He seems so, so tired.
“Let’s go back inside,” he says and you furrow your brows at him.
His defeat has your chest clenching tightly. You want him to punish you, scold you. At least show that he cares. Why? You’re not sure. Maybe you need to know that the relief you felt from being caught is somewhat mutual in a sense. That the people here don’t just see you as a weapon, despite the burden, but that you’re someone worth saving. Worth keeping around.
Worth healing.
“That’s it?” you ask. “No scolding or punishment?”
Bucky scoffs humourlessly. “You get a kick out of punishment, darling?”
You roll your eyes. “Seriously.”
“I’m not your fucking baby sitter,” he mutters and starts walking back to the building, rightfully assuming you’ll follow. “If you want, I can ask Steve to tell you off in the morning. He’s better at that sort of thing anyway.”
Some pathetic part of you wants to sulk at his response like an ill-tempered child. “Then why come after me?”
It stays quiet for a second as you cross the field towards the compound. “I couldn’t let a poor escape plan be successful.”
You can’t help but snort at that answer and decide that fine, you’d play along for now. But you wonder if the curious Bucky you’d seen a few days ago had completely vanished since that dinner.
The next morning, Bucky gets cornered by you after breakfast. He looks down his nose at your defiant face.
“You didn’t tell anyone about last night?” you ask him and he raises his brows, unimpressed.
It had surprised you that no one at breakfast mentioned anything or gave you even so much as a dirty look. Clearly, none of them are aware that you tried to make your escape last night. And you cannot for the life of you figure out why Bucky is taking it easy on you. Is he smart enough to assume that your own guilt will do more damage than he ever could? Is this part of some bigger scheme of his? Perhaps he is actually as tired and unbothered as he looked when you saw him in those woods.
“What happened last night?” he asks with a telling smirk. The current look on your face is worth the lack of sleep he had tonight. It’s too easy to rattle you. You roll your eyes and Bucky smirks even wider at that. Is he… flirting?
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” you try again.
Bucky remains quiet and fights to keep a straight face. He did expect your question, but why didn’t he tell anyone? Because he thought you and him would get along after those tiny moments during that first dinner. Because the team would have let you walk away. Because Bucky doesn’t want you to go. Because he thinks he can help. Help the world. Help you. He thinks he can help you. And you can help him. And–
“Want me to tell them now?” he says instead.
He barely notices the flash of panic in your eyes before you cover it with an annoyed scoff and turn on your heel to walk away. He watches you. Every step until you are out of sight.
“You said she trusts you,” Steve’s voice sounds from behind him and Bucky schools his face back to bland interest before he turns to Steve. “That doesn’t look like she trusts you.”
“It’s a work in progress.”
Steve frowns pensively. “Well, speed up the process. We have an important mission and we need her for it.”
“What?” Bucky almost loses his restraint, his body flaring in alarm. “Steve, she hasn’t had any training. She was locked up for months. It’s too big of a risk–”
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate, Buck,” Steve tells him regretfully, but instantly notices that Bucky isn’t buying it. “This is the thing we needed her for.”
“She isn’t some kind of weapon!” Bucky exclaims and he notices Natasha turning away from her conversation in the nearest common room to see what the commotion is about. He gives her a warning look, then lowers his voice. “Steve. This could’ve been me,” Bucky breathes. And there it is. Recognition flickers in Steve’s eyes. “We can’t use her like this. She’s all alone.”
Steve looks past Bucky’s shoulder as if you’re still walking away from him. Angry frown, uptilted chin and swaying hips– Bucky almost looks. Then Steve sighs and looks back at his friend. “Take all the time you need. If she’s ready, I’ll explain the mission to her. I think she might want to help.”
Bucky reads over the file until his eyes turn bleary. Steve was right, you will want to help.
He thinks you can handle it, but… what if you encounter a trigger on the way? What if it all becomes too much? Bucky realises he isn’t nearly close enough to care this much, and he doesn’t, but who else but him is going to care whether you live or die? Sometimes Bucky wonders if even you care whether you live or die. What would have happened to Bucky if everyone had given up on him? He knows damn well that he’d be long dead if not so many people found him useful.
But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Bucky never had a choice. So he finds himself knocking at your door at 10pm with the file in hand.
After opening the door, you barely manage to get a word out before Bucky extends the folder towards you. “Steve needs your help on this. It should be fine, but the choice is up to you.”
Quick. Brief. He’s just the messenger and the decision is all yours. Bucky turns and makes to walk away – before you can spot all of the thoughts crossing his mind – but your voice stops him.
“Will you be there?”
The question takes him by surprise. Turning back towards you and slowly walking to the doorframe you’re standing under, he creases his brows together. “You need me to come along?”
You shrug abashedly. “Will you?”
Bucky studies your face intently. “Yes,” he lies. He’ll figure something out with Steve.
“What if I can’t do what you need me to do?” There it is again. He doesn’t get why this vulnerable side of you keeps surprising him so much.
“You’ll be useful,” are his terrible words of comfort. He wants to palm himself in the face.
The suppressed smile you give him heats his face and he’s sure you’ll call him out on his horrible people skills, but you stay quiet. The silence grows and grows and Bucky starts to shift nonchalantly, wondering if he should walk off and let you read the file in private.
“Okay,” you say softly.
“You’re coming?”
“Yes,” you affirm and look up at him, handing the file back. “Do you not want me to go?”
“It’s your choice,” he tells you and gently takes the folder.
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
Some wall snaps up inside of him at that tone – at that hopeful look in your eyes. “You could use the mission to make your escape,” he says with a shrug and makes to turn away from you again. “I won’t stop you this time.”
He walks away, leaving you to gape at his retreating form.
The mission was simple enough.
Sam, Natasha, Bucky and you would be attending a gala. Supposedly, there is a certain divide between the guests in attendance. Your job is mainly to feel out just who will be willing to join your cause. What goes unsaid is that you’re also required to butter them up to spring into action when your team would deem it necessary.
The party is in full swing and everyone is finally losing their mask of formality and enjoying their evening. You just hit the sweet spot of their susceptibility and you sweep into casual conversation about politics. Seeing who keeps quiet, who isn’t scared to speak up, whose faces harden at the prospect of change, etcetera. All of your antennas are on and when you know people have stopped paying attention to you, that’s when you dare a glance across the room where you know Bucky is standing.
All dapper and handsome, wearing a very expensive suit.
All of you have taken thorough action to look exceptional and to blend in perfectly with the high class crowd. Being charming is easy enough, looking it was a necessity – yet, all of it does still feel very far removed from yourself. Like a betrayal to the woman who was locked up mere weeks ago. However, being a true professional, you don’t allow your thoughts to linger too much and channel back to the matter at hand.
Then you feel it.
The searing heat that starts at your legs and spreads all the way up to your chest and cheeks. Like a virus burning over your skin. And you know what it is – know who it is. So you look back in the direction of Bucky, if only to catch him in the act.
But he’s unbothered. Brooding and observing from the bar in the shadow of the room, somehow alone and undiscovered by most of the crowd (a skill you assume he has acquired over the years). And his eyes are still on you. They glide down and back up for even more emphasis and you swallow away the dryness in your throat.
Gliding a sensual hand over the arm of the man next to you, you excuse yourself with a warm smile and slowly stride over to the culprit. Bucky waits patiently, and you swear you see a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as you walk over. He hands you a spare glass of champagne and turns his back to the room when you’re close enough to hear him.
“It’s working,” he says and you swear he sounds slightly impressed.
“Did you assume I’d fuck up?” you taunt and lean over the bar, sipping at the glass flute between your fingers. Bucky turns to you and his eyes sweep over the curve of your partly exposed back, the hollow of your spine and the curve of your ass. Then he holds his breath for a moment.
“Wouldn’t be mad if you did,” he tells you and his tone sounds gentle. You know that’s why he’s here, even though neither of you said it out loud, you know he’s here to stick up for you if you can’t get it done yet. If you’re not ready to be that person again.
Just like he probably knows that you’re here because the guilt of trying to escape from your saviours was eating you alive. And you didn’t want to prove Bucky right by escaping. You had glanced at the exits a few times and debated it, yes, but then looked at your team and thought against it. Looked at Bucky and–
“We’ll leave in five minutes,” Bucky murmurs as he finishes his glass. “I noted down all the people you signed as potential allies and who definitely isn’t.”
“There’s a few we can convince to help,” you cut in.
“What? The woman who runs that capitalist shitshow?” Bucky frowns. “Nah, she’s only motivated by money.”
You smile at him knowingly. “Money is a great motivator and our movement could benefit her greatly, so you just have to nudge her in the right direction.”
Bucky studies your face then and you might have found it less penetrating when he looked at your body with that stare. That intrigue. “And you already have a plan to tip her over to our side,” he concludes.
“You chose me for this for a reason, did you not?” you ask.
His eyes drop to your mouth. “I like a woman who takes her job seriously.”
You have no idea where that came from, but decide to go along with it anyway. You smirk and empty your flute, gently setting it down on the bar after. “Here I was, thinking you didn’t like anyone,” you purr and saunter off to find your other teammates and round up today’s mission.
You turn around when you hear Bucky yelling out your name, but then the room spins and debris flies everywhere. You’d cry out if the wind didn’t whoosh from your body and your ears don’t hollow out. You want to voice your discovery, as futile as it is, but the scream dies in your throat.
Someone just blew up the building.
It feels like there’s ash in your mouth. And throat. Your body bleats in pain, but nothing too severely. Maybe you’re in shock. Maybe you can’t feel a limb that’s no longer there. Maybe–
The room is dark except for an orange hue that travels over the ceiling and walls every few seconds. You’re slumped in a velvet chair and your fingers pluck softly at the fabric. One by one, your senses weave together and you hear the soft sounds of someone working on something. Paper ruffling, some gentle work, someone who’s trying to be quiet. You rasp in a raw breath and see a shadow at the bottom of your vision. But your body is relaxed. Or… Well, as relaxed as it can be.
There was an explosion.
“Have some water,” Bucky offers from his kneeling position between your legs and nudges his chin to the glass at the small table next to your chair. His voice is soft, raw. And when you squint at him while you blindly reach for the glass, you see soot on his face, dust on his suit.
“Are you alright?” you ask and your voice reminds you to take the drink. The water feels like heaven in your throat and you nearly gulp down the whole glass.
Bucky pauses at your question and surely he didn’t expect that to be your first question. “I’m fine,” he grumbles and focuses on the task at hand. Which, you quickly realise, is cleaning up the wound on your thigh.
Next to him, there’s a small container with small shards of glass in there and a used pair of tweezers. You feel the prickle of the wound at your thigh and observe closely as he presses some gauze to the puncture wounds. His hands are firm and steady as he wraps a bandage around your thigh to secure the gauze. His calluses scrape against your soft skin and you almost swear he takes more time than he should securing the bandage.
You heave a deep sigh and straighten up in the chair. “Natasha and Sam?”
“Natasha was sent to hunt down the ones responsible and needed an aerial patrol, so she took Sam.” Bucky clenches his jaw and you have a feeling it took some convincing to get Bucky to not go after the bastards himself, to let Natasha handle it instead. “There were deaths, lots of wounded.”
You flinch at that.
Bucky notices it. The glaze over your eyes and the tightening of your fingers into the soft fabric of the chair. He barely allows himself to hesitate and he cover your left hand with his right one, taking your fingers and stroking his thumb over your knuckles. “We got out as many as we could, no one saw the explosion coming,” he explains and hopes the information brings you some peace. He’s desperate to take that haunted look off your face, but doesn’t know how.
He gives you time then. Allows you to sort through your memories and shush them. He strokes his thumb gently and squeezes your fingers every once in a while to anchor you to here, to being safe. Your breaths go from shallow to deep as they slow. He hears your heartbeat steady and watches clarity fill your eyes again.
Fuck him. Those eyes.
“Tomorrow, we go over your list and see what we can do. Let’s get some rest for now.” He pushes to a stand and moves to remove his hand from yours, but you hold onto him.
“I’m sorry for trying to escape,” you rasp and Bucky tenses at that. He did not expect that confession. Didn’t expect an apology either – he didn’t think one was warranted.
You slowly push to a stand and Bucky’s heartbeat spikes as you wobble on your legs before you steady yourself. His eyes search your face frantically and he tries not to linger at your lips for too long. You gently stroke a hand down his arm before brushing past him in thanks, and Bucky has to take a deep breath. A flash of you doing the same thing to one of tonight’s guests comes to him and jealousy hits him, a little too viciously. Just like it did when he saw it earlier tonight.
He turns around and watches as you walk up the small bag he packed for an instance like this. You pull out some clothes and Bucky shamelessly stares while you do it. He almost sighs as the sight of that orange hue travelling over your form, most of the sleek dress still intact and definitely still doing its job of making you look good enough to eat.
“I’m glad you’re alright,” he blurts. But he stands still as he watches you freeze. You slowly turn to him and tilt your head at him curiously.
Then, a slow smirk spreads over your face and your brows raise playfully. Bucky frowns as he tries to read the expression on your face, even if the lightness of it makes him want to drop to his knees in relief. This is much, much better than that haunted look that was there mere minutes ago.
Until one of your hands lifts from the bag, a small scrap of lace dangling from your fingers. “I am never letting you pack our getaway bag again.”
Bucky matches your smirk and strides over to you, close enough that you have to tip your chin up to remain eye contact. “You can choose not to wear it,” he shrugs and the nonchalant gesture makes your legs weak. Slowly, he starts unbuttoning his own pants and shirt, stripping himself of his clothes and tempting you to break that eye contact. “But we’re sharing a bed, so you decide what is less tempting for me to look at.”
It takes everything inside of you not to balk at this… flirtation. But it’s nice – so fucking nice to deflate that balloon of tension after a mission like the one you had tonight. To have banter and humour and perhaps a little friendship.
“I better not catch you looking at all,” you snipe, but have a hard time keeping the smile off your face.
Bucky smiles too then and gives you a wink powerful enough to set your clothes aflame. “Too bad. You can’t ask that of me and look like that.”
That does render you a bit speechless and Bucky takes his win as he strips himself to his boxers. Climbing under the sheets, Bucky’s powerful body shifts and ripples with movement.
This is going to be a long night.
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ruuari · 2 days
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my vanven & unversed themed pencil case is now on my shop ✨!!!!
reblogs are greatly appreciated and help a ton!
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lucifersecondwife · 2 days
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MY FIRST COMIC!!! i tried my best.. please support me!!
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cocpcoco · 1 day
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gift for @the-writing-mobster
I hope you like it ✨🥹
Enjoy ✨
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sonderland · 3 days
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My first Southern Gothic fic! Pre-relationship and pre-campaign. What does it look like when Ruidians dream Exandrian dreams?
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etheries1015 · 1 month
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Imagining Malleus is going through his heat cycle, and finds himself needing to be guided through the motions by none other than Lilia, of course. His subject? You.
(18+ minors DNI. Afab reader, fem pronouns.) this ones for you, bestie @masquerade-of-misery <3 live laugh love "threesomnia" LMAOOO
How you came into this predicament will be far beyond you. How you were now stripped bare by a hungry Draconic Fae, with your bare back pressed up against Lilias's chest, holding you in his grasp with his hands coming around to play with your sensitive mounds. His hands gently groped your tender breasts, flicking a finger over your hard nipples and pinching them at just the right pressure. Your back arched against his touch and a small and yearning moan elicited from your lips, Malleus looking down at you with a flushed face with his tongue licking his dry and hungry lips. Lilia chuckled at Malleus's eager display.
"It depends on the person," Lilia pointed out as if giving some sort of classroom lecture to the black-haired male, "Sensitivity of the breasts isn't uncommon. However, it seems our prefect here may need a little more than simple foreplay of the bosom to feel satisfied..." He rolled your nipples in his fingers and used the bulk of his palm to give a little squish to your breast, your breath becoming ragged as you melted into his touch, holding back a moan from the back of your throat. Lilia smiled at your rather simple reaction, before eyeing the shirtless fae that loomed over you. Malleus gave him a confused look before Lilia grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest.
Encouraging him to move in the way Lilia had, Malleus placed his much larger and dexterous fingers against your soft skin. His movements were much more uncertain, slow, and passionate versus the older fae whose touch left you thinking about the surprising amount of skill he had and the ability to understand your body the moment his fingers touched your skin. As Malleus gently kneaded your breasts with caution, you were shocked when suddenly you felt sharp teeth dig into the crook of your neck. You let out a yelp of surprise mixed with a moan that sounded rather confused and high-pitched- even your body at odds with the pleasure of your chest and the now throbbing of your neck. Malleus looked up in concern at this, almost glaring daggers at the other fae as if to ask; 'what did you do?'
"The neck," Lilia purred into your ear nibbling the lobe, "Is a rather sensitive spot for humans...biting it is also seen as a form of possessiveness, in both Fae and Human mating. Interesting, no?" Lilia smiled mischievously as he playfully licked the wound he had left, your body shivering at the wet muscle that scaled from the base of your neck before teasing its way to your jawline. Malleus eyed the cheeky fae that held you in his arms, before heading his mentor's words and leaning over to take his place between the other side of your neck. Lilia moved your hair to the side to allow Malleus easier access to mark your neck, his hands continuing his relentless motions on your chest. It seemed he had gotten rather carried away, for you winced in pain and exclaimed "Ow!" when Malleus's nail ended up scratching your nipple. He pulled away, looking at you in worry and quickly removing his hands from your body. Lilia chuckled at this, a seemingly common pastime for him at this point.
"Humans are delicate," Lilia said to Malleus almost to chastise him for his mistake, "Make sure she is alright, and then continue forward. You need to think what each of your body parts are doing, and adapt accordingly." Malleus's eyes caught yours.
"Are you alright, child of man?" He cooed gently, his honey-deep voice immediately setting aside any uneasiness you may have felt. You gave him a nod and the okay to continue, Lilia whispering "Good girl," In your ear before his hands snaked down to the bottom half of your body, also bare for the two men to be witness to. Your legs were closed the time they were experimenting with your breast and higher extremities, Lilia used a skilled hand to open your knee and allow your legs to spread in front of the draconic fae. Malleus stared down at your dripping cunt, taking notice of the slick that glistened around your hole. The growing bulge of his pants became much more apparent as it grew in size, practically begging to be freed from the confines of the fabric he so frustratingly wanted to be released from.
Lilias hand snaked down from your inner thigh to place two fingers over your folds and spread them apart, making the wetness between your legs much more apparent for Malleus to see. You instinctively felt a jolt of pleasure at such a simple touch, your legs almost snapping shut if it wasn't for Malleus quickly using his hands to force your legs apart. Lilias eyes cocked in surprise at this action, his lips curling in a coy smile before resuming his "lecture."
"Human women have their own lubricating system. When they are aroused, they produce this-" He used two of his fingers to rub a few lines from the pearl of your cunt and entrance, holding them up to show off the glistening clear substance that now covered his fingers. "This is how they prepare to take the male in." Malleus watched earnestly with rosy cheeks, almost drooling at the simple idea that you were ready to take him in. Taking this point as the next step, Malleus began to unbuckle his belt to release him of his constricting confines. Your eyes widened at this, and Lilia 'tsked' at this, shaking his head. Malleus looked up in mild annoyance at the red eyed fae.
"Although she produced her own lubricant," Lilia pointed out, "We still must make sure it's safe for her to take you. You must prepare her, first." Malleus furrowed his eyebrows at this, sitting back slightly holding back a growl of impatience.
"Does her body not automatically prepare her for such actions? Is that not the purpose of the lubricant?" Malleus inquired. Lilia shook his head and gently rubbed your thigh, as if thanking you for your patience.
"I understand your impatience, Malleus. But you must understand, despite the lubricant, we want to avoid any injury that may occur for being ill-prepared for the size in which she is to take. To prevent tearing or pain, it's best to prepare her first in order to stretch her out to better take you in. Especially in your case, since most human males only have one." You started at this sudden statement, looking back between the two men bewildered.
"O-one? What do you mean by that?" Lilia looked at you with eyes wide with confusion.
"Hm? I thought you were aware? Draconic fae actually has two phalluses. One is for keeping the entrance of their mate open, while the other is to push their seed in for breeding. Although...it would be in your benefit to start with one at first, to ease you into it." Your face fell at this information, looking back at Malleus with your eyes wavering in concern. Malleus leaned over you, using a hand to place upon your cheek and stroke it gently, his emerald green eyes glowing with lust and affection for you.
"Do not worry," Malleus cooed with his words of honey, "I will be sure to prepare you as Lilia instructs." Biting your bottom lip, you nodded and tilted your head back. Malleus planted a gentle kiss against your forehead before returning back to his original position, awaiting patiently for Lilias's next set of instructions. Lilia continued to hold you against his chest, looking at Malleus from behind your slightly trembling body. The trembling was out of slight fear of the possibility of two fitting inside of you, yet it seemed all the more tantalizing and exciting at the same time...
"Now Malleus," Lilia continued his instruction, his hands trailing back down to your folds using two fingers to caress your pearl in a mix of circular and vertical movements, teasing the inside of your hole with only the tip of his fingertips, not quite indulging into it. you whined and found yourself moving your hips in the hope of more friction, for the bat's touch was light and you felt yourself become impatient. Lilia ignored your feeble movements and continued to explain as if you weren't so needlingly begging for more. "Start with one finger, and when you feel it enough, you can continue to add more. You will be able to tell she's ready by how much she can take of your fingers without feeling too tight." Lilia suddenly pushed two fingers at once inside of you, urging Malleus forward. He watched eagerly as a satisfied hum escaped your lips, your body arching ever so slightly as Lilia massaged the inside of your hole skillfully with his fingers. All at once and far too soon for your liking, Lilia removed his fingers, your slick completely covering them. "Now, you try. Move them like this-" The red eyed fae gave a demonstration to the horned male, malleus nodding before following instruction.
Malleus was much more clumsy when it came to such acts, you could feel it in the way his fingers stiffly entered you with very little fluid movement.
"curl your fingers gently and move upward. Feel how she tightens around your fingers when you do it correctly?" you had to admit, hearing Lilia talk about you in such a blunt manner about the ways in which your body reacted was enough to make your entire face red. Yet, the wetness down below was far more prominent with every word he spoke. Once he was able to add another two fingers, Malleus pulled out leaving you empty once more. He admired his fingers that were covered in your substance, before staring you directly in the eyes and using his tongue to lap up your wetness from his fingers. You weren't sure you could possibly become any more flustered than you already were, yet it seemed possible with every new action both of the men took. Deciding you had been stretched out enough, Lilia had given Malleus the okay to the next step.
The tall male stood up and unbuckled his belt, allowing his pants to fall to the ground and removing his boxers allowing his cocks to be seen by your mesmerized eyes. You watched in anticipation as he shuffled back in front of you on his knees, your eyes never leaving the sheer length and girth that he had been hiding all this time.
"remember what I said earlier," Lilia said, using his hand to pull your legs apart further, "Humans are incredibly delicate. If you are not careful when breeding, you could harm your mate. Enter her slowly..." Lilias fingers snaked back down to your folds and once again used his skilled hand to pull them apart, Malleus pumping the top of the two cocks a couple times before aligning it with your entrance. Lilias fingers remained spreading you apart as he talked Malleus through every inch, yet the second the head of his cock penetrated you, you couldn't help but suck in air and almost pull back.
"t-too.. too big..!" You whined, Lilia hushing you gently and planting a kiss upon your cheek. Malleus leaned forward and groaned, his cock throbbing in desire to bury deep inside you. As you were taking inches of Malleus, you couldn't help but notice something hard poke at your bare back, like cloth that was rubbing against your skin. Lilia was hard. You hadn't the chance to speak up about it before the older fae ignored his obvious 'issue' and continued to coach Malleus through the motions.
"Let her adjust," Lilia said to the black-haired male, "(y/n), Tell him when you're ready to take more. And if it is too much to bear, speak your mind." Lilias's words were kind and gentle, his lips pressing against the lobe of your ear before biting down. After a few moments of adjusting to Malleus's size, you gave him the okay as Lilia guided him deeper inside of you.
"So tight and wet," Malleus let out a deep primal growl from the back of his throat as he was able to finally fully engulf himself in your warmth, "So warm...ah.." groaning while leaning forward and biting the crook of your neck, Malleus found himself trying to push deeper and deeper inside of you. Tears pricked the side of your eyes at the number of stimuli you were receiving, Lilia took notice and moved your head to face him kissing the tears away from your cheeks. "There...Good girl. You're taking him so well, aren't you?" He purred, trailing kisses from your cheeks to your jawline, and from your jawline moving his teeth to graze against the other side of your neck. Once fully adjusted, Malleus began to go at a steady pace with moans of pleasure escaping his lips.
It wasn't long before he was fucking you relentlessly out of pure primal instinct, the room full of wet sounds of skin slapping against each other and moaning. Sweet moans that left your lips with one man penetrating you and the other sneaky hands roaming your body. Lilia used one hand to grope your breast and play with your hardened nipples while the other moved down to your clit and rubbed circles around it leading you closer and closer to your release. You could feel the bubbling pit of your stomach as your walls clenched around Malleus's cock and your back arched, a loud desperate moan slipping from your lips and your body trembling with ecstasy. At the same time, you felt Malleus twitch inside of you, with ropes of cum painting your swollen insides white. Your body went limp against Lillia's chest, panting roughly as the Draconic fae removed himself from the warmth of your cunt. Lilia used his thumb to pull open your swollen hole, watching as Malleus's thick seed pooled out of your twitching entrance. As Lilia sang your praises, Malleus leaned forward and kissed your forehead gently, you taking notice that he was still as hard as he had started.
"Seeing how well both of you did," Lilia smiled, "shall we try using the second one, next?"
You surely weren't going to be pulled away yet, not until Briar Valley had another heir on the way <3
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occudo · 8 months
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Paranoia? Secrets? In my Archive? Well... I was able to spend more time and energy to make this (the longest chapter yet) thanks to my lovely kofi supporters, thank you so much! They are the reason this comic still goes on. If you don't remember, or new to this AU:
More from this au
The AO3
And if you like what I do, or want me to draw something for you my kofi
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silkythewriter · 3 months
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I had an idea for a few headcanons you could do if ya want—
Maybe Sir Pentious with a reader who is so obviously in love with him, and keeps pining over him while literally everyone else but Sir Pentious himself can tell they like him? Like he's just really oblivous until reader finally straight up tells him.
Sir Pentious with a clearly in love reader!(●’◡’●)❤︎︎
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Warnings!: Non!
Fandoms!:Hazbin hotel!
Author’s note!: HI HI OMG I LOVE SIR PENTIOUS HES SO SILLY!!!! I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS AS MUCH AS I DID
Summary!: reader who’s clearly in love with our favorite snake demon
❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! ❤️
☆✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬☆
“Call me, you can call me
Boy, just call me (call me, call me)
While you stalling, I'm evolving
I'd give all me”
☆✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬☆
!🐍✨Sir Pentious✨🐍!
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First of all, just to get out of the way, THIS MAN IS OBLIVIOUS!!!!, Autism be damned my boy can pull without even telling!!!!!
No but in all seriousness he is oblivious to your obvious longing for him.
Everyone can see you giving him shy longing stares only for him to be ranting about his latest invention. Not only would he not be able to tell but he’d always think your just being nice!
Of course he’s crushing hard behind his bedroom door to his little eggs. Happily stating and going on rambles of how gorgeous you looked today. He’d state everything! From the new hair style you tried to the new piece of clothing you bought and wore. When I mean he notices everything I mean it, but for some reason he can’t pick up on your obvious love for him.
The way he could stare in your eye as you tell him he looks breathtaking and still think you mean it just to be nice is astonishing. OF COURSE HES BLUSHING AND KICKING HIS TAIL, but he can’t bring himself to think you like him anymore than just friends!
He’d go to his egg boys and sadly rant on how you’ll only see him as friend. And the egg boys all share one Brain cell so they can’t tell you like him aswell!, maybe they might accidentally spill, or almost spill the secret of him liking you but he quickly knocks them away before you can make sense of what their saying.
All the residents watch as you do your best to drop hints only for him to complete miss it. Even angel cringes as he watches him completely be oblivious to the obvious flirting, it’s take Charlie and Vaggie to stop him from pointing out the obvious.
Husk almost always gives Sir Pentious as gaze of just utter confusion and tiredness.
He’d gladly take flowers from you that you gifted him and take care of it for weeks on end without realizing the romantic gesture!
Alastor, as always finds it humorous, although he usually doesn’t indulge himself in romantic like things he’s find it hilarious. “Even with three eyes he still can’t see the obvious! Ha!”
Charlie tries to help to the best of her ability to help guid him the right direction but it’s just end up with him more confused. Vaggie just face slaps internally,
honestly the whole crew wasn’t having high hopes for him as dim as that is. , look! He ain’t bad looking, but not many people would prefer his clumsy self, so they were honestly hoping he’d figure it out before you possibly moved on.
Even when your upset at the obvious frustrating situation he’s still be confused while trying to do his best to comfort you.
“Well I think the man isss clearly as dumb as a rock!”
It took you starring dead in his eyes for him to question if you were alright. Before you stated it was him
The way he just stood staring at you in pure disbelief, before snapping out of it and embarrassed as his previous words. But after the said embarrassment he’s full with giddy, why of course you love him!, he’s the great sir pentious!
Yea his embarrassment would quickly turn into pride, considering he got someone as beautiful as you to fall for him.
Definition of a clumsy gentlemen, he’d open doors so fast it’d smack him in the face, or pull when it’s a push door and be confused why it’s not opening.(´ω`💧)
He’s just a silly lil guy! (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)
I feel like the crew in the hotel would be relief to find he finally figured out.
At the end of the night he’s squealing like a high school girl as he rambles to his egg boys about you in a new light!.
He’s gift you small little trinkets or happily spend hours with you talking!
He’s as lovesick as your are! He’s just a bit dense when it comes to accepting the fact you love.
It’s like the roles switched! Now he’s daydreaming-ly staring at you happy to have you as his, and him a yours.
Like I’ve said before! He’s a total drama queen, he can’t help it!, deny him a kiss teasingly? He’s crumbling down to the ground and holding his chest as if he just had a heart attack! (¬_¬)
He’s not at all secretive of his love for you, even if he wants to, to keep his image “professional”, he just can’t help and dote on you!
overall he’s a big dote and softy even if he tries to hide it, loves you with his whole being! ( ˘ω˘ ) He can a be a bit over the top sometimes but you’ll come to accept it! And hey who wouldn’t want a silly snake demons who’s tripping over their tail for you. Yea you got him in and over his head but he wouldn’t have it any other way. The roles have truly reversed(≖ᴗ≖✿)
☆✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬☆
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I LOVE HIS SILLY LIL SELF SO MUCH MORE PEOPLE SHOULD WRITE FOR HIM :(. TYSM FOR THE REQUEST I LOVED IT SM!!!! PLEASE COME AGAIN!!
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itty-bitty-sunshine · 2 months
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Happy aro week to everyone who just really like giving gifts and making your friends stupidly happy for no special reason (yes this was a valentine special. Yes this is platonic)
Bonus:
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Friendly reminder to give all your friends love till they explode
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i-drop-level-one-loot · 7 months
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Could I request reader x Yandere Giant? I feel like you'd write this concept so well!!
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CW: ridiculous size difference kink, living fleshlight, non-con, oral, cummflation, anal
Fear gripped (Reader) as they helplessly swung from the tree they had landed in. Just the day before (Reader) was boarding a plane, excited to travel with the opportunity to continue their learning, studying to become a professor of anthropology. Tragically, five hours into the seventeen hour flight something went wrong with the plane, sending it careening through the air and falling in a nose dive back down towards the earth. (Reader) wasn't sure how it all happened, but suddenly there was a painful amount of wind pressure inside the plane, and their seat was sucked out.
They had been lucky enough to not die, their seat getting caught in a tree during the fall, however they were now trapped with no way down. The drop was still too high to land safely without breaking anything, and the branch the seat had lodged itself into was too far away from the trunk for an attempt to shimmy down. So they were stuck, too afraid to move and cause themselves to fall further. Helplessly, (Reader) began crying and screaming for help.
"Goddamnit! I'm not an outdoors person, I can't get down!" (Reader) bemoaned their predicament, screaming more to vent than to actually attract help, not knowing if anyone else survived the crash. "Help! Me!"
The anthropology student cried themselves weak.
(Reader) had just began nodding off, unable to hold their eyes open, when a loud earthquake rumbled the forest, shaking (Reader's) seat dangerously. The booming shakes repeated rhythmically, becoming louder and shaking (Reader) more violently.
"Stop! Stop! I'm going to fall!" (Reader) wasn't sure who they were crying out to, possibly God, pleading only because the fear of dying overrode their rational thinking.
It continued closer, frightening (Reader) into gripping their seat belt for dear life. As the sound became louder, the more it resembled footsteps, walking up to the tree (Reader) hung from. The thundering echoed from behind (Reader).
A hand large enough to wrap around (Reader's) ribcage grabbed the chair and yanked it out of the branch, lifting (Reader) up to meet their "savior" face to face. A large man taller than (Reader's) family home stood almost fully naked. Even from their position strapped to a chair, (Reader) could tell that the monster's face was more than half their height in length.
"What an odd little bird." The giant's deep voice rumbled out, reverberating in (Reader's) rib cage like the bass of a suped up car.
Refusing to believe that what (Reader) was seeing was real, they pointed a finger at the being, shaking harder than a chihuahua while they (not-so) confidently exclaimed "I'm not a bird!"
Bright green eyes the color of the trees surrounding (Reader) twinkled with amusement. The huge man brought (Reader) closer, his skin pleasantly smelled like dirt after rainfall in spring. "Oh, is that so?" He teased, overjoyed by the mixture of fear and embarrassment painted visibly on (Reader's) face. "But you are perched in a tree like a bird, and you squawk like a bird.."
Salty tears dribbled down their dirty cheeks. "Please don't kill me." (Reader) begged, quickly giving up their (unconvincing) facade of bravery.
"Kill you? I would never.." the giant chuckled, carrying the still strapped in (Reader) in his hand as he began back the way he came. "If you were able to survive a fall like that, perhaps it was fate that we should meet."
Their nerves tingled at his words. "How.. did you know I fell?"
A roaring laughter shook the trees and nearly burst (Reader's) ear drums. "You are quite adorable in your stupidity, little bird!"
(Reader's) questions were outright ignored for the rest of the trip, only occasionally hearing a chuckle or a 'hmph' in response to their frightened inquiries. The giant brought (Reader) deeper into the mountain, revealing a large cave tunneling into it's side, obviously the giant's home, decorated with ornate wooden carvings and drapes meticulously sewn out of leaves, similar to his loin cloth.
He only spoke after setting (Reader) down on a handmade table. "Are you going to tell me your name, or shall I continue calling you bird?"
Unbuckling as fast as (Reader) could, their leg muscles were weak from the plane crash, so what they had intended to be a show of bravery, standing tall in the face of uncertainty, was more like the wobbling of a newborn deer, knees bonking together pitifully. "Not until you tell me your name first!"
"Hah! You couldn't pronounce my name, bird. My name is the sound of the rapid river rushing down this mountain." A hissing growl hummed in the back of his throat.
"Okay, Growley, my name is (Reader)."
The giant smiled, pulling a stool up to sit beside the table (Reader) stood on. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Because he sounded sincere (Reader) struggled to remain angry, reminding themselves that this was a possibly dangerous stranger was difficult when he was acting so charismatic. "Thank you.. for getting me out of that tree, I guess.. But I should be looking for an open area without trees, or better, the crash site, so when rescue comes they'll find me."
The smile drooped on "Growley's" lips, a conflicted grimace taking it's place. "I'm sorry to break it to you (Reader), but no one is coming for you."
"What?! Why??" (Reader) loudly cried out, heart shattering painfully in their chest.
"My island is protected by magic. It is concealed from all eyes."
(Reader) sat down, trying not to have a panic attack. "Would they be able to see me from the water?"
"You would have to be quite far from my island before it's protection waned. You would drown before rescue arrived."
They slumped down further, laying flat against the wood, focusing on their breathing. "Oh."
"Do not be perturbed, little bird. Our meeting was fate, as I have said, so I am confident that you will learn to think of this as your home as well."
"Fuck your fate." (Reader) wearily whined.
A sigh shook the furniture. "I have been alone for a very long time. For hundreds of years I have prayed to the spirits of the universe that they would resurrect another giant so I may have someone to speak to. I was desperate. So when I saw the giant creature flying high above me, having difficulties in it's flight, close enough to the ground to interfere with the magic bubble.." (Reader) sat up, face twisted in rage. "I trusted the spirits, and helped bring the monster down faster."
The bottom lip on (Reader) quivered. "What did you do?"
There was no remorse on his face as Growley responded. "I acted on impulse, and knocked you out of the sky with a boulder."
(Reader) shuffled away, hysterical. "You-you-you!"
"Don't curse me, little bird, please. You have no idea the torment I've suffered, alone with the corpses of my family."
They shakily stood, and began running towards the edge of the table. Growley's gnarled hand effortlessly scooped (Reader) up, unfazed by their fists weakly slamming into his fingers.
"I know how frightened you must be, but this was fate! You were sent to me from the spirits. And with the spirits mercy, you will be blessed to live with me for the rest of my life.."
Using his nails, Growley pulled (Reader's) pants off, exposing their bare lower half. They clamped their thighs shut while crying out in protest, but it was too late for bargaining; he had been alone for long enough, and was desperate for companionship.
(Reader) was incapable of fighting back as they were lifted with one hand, pressing their bare ass to the giant's face. With his free hand he stretched one leg to the side so he could look at (Reader's) everything. They couldn't see what was happening over his hand clamped on their chest. They squeezed their eyes shut in anticipation, but popped them right back open when something hot and wet ran across their naked groin.
"EW!" (Reader) screamed, feeling a tongue larger than their face taste their body. It roughly pressed against their anus and ran upward over their sensitive organ.
He continued doing so over and over as (Reader's) body began reacting against their wishes.
They could only hope that he couldn't taste their fluids as they became aroused, the tongue still prodding at their ass and folds.
The hands holding (Reader) up changed positions, cradling the body with both hands, but now holding up their legs with his thumbs, pressing them back till (Reader's) knees brushed against their face. The stretching was discomforting, but the aching was forgotten as Growley stuck their entire pelvis in his lips, sucking hard as his tongue tried to force its way into their ass. (Reader) couldn't take their mind off of the assault, the suction on their sensitive glans sending convulsions up their trembling thighs. A knot inside (Reader) formed, building like a wave, threatening to come crashing down.
"Stop, I'm going to cum!"
(Reader) dug their nails into his fingers as they released inside their kidnapper's mouth, moaning loudly as they did so despite their attempt to conceal their pleasure.
The giant removed (Reader) from his lips, swapping them back to being held by one hand, and dropped his only piece of clothing. "I cannot wait any further, little bird." His eyes were almost apologetic as he lowered (Reader), giving them a full view of his erection. The length of his enlarged dick was almost as large as his face, making (Reader) weep in anticipation.
"Please don't!"
Their entrance was already wet from the tongue poking at it, wasting no time in slowly pressing the tip into (Reader's) clenched ass. The pain was like getting ripped open, having something so large pushed into them. The giant groaned with pleasure, and rammed (Reader) further onto his cock.
Like masturbating with a flesh light, he used (Reader's) tight bloody hole selfishly, fucking them as deeply as he could physically fit. The sounds of his grunts drowned out (Reader's) heaving sobs, moving faster and faster, almost cracking their ribs under the force of his grip.
A loud growl escaped as reached his climax, cumming inside (Reader's) gut, extending out their midsection as he bloated them up. Yanking (Reader) off his dick, jizz leaked out of their swollen bottom as he pressed his slit against (Reader's) lips before they could clench their jaw shut. Releasing the rest of his load into their mouth, shooting so much into their throat that they believed they could feel the smelly cum hit the bottom of their stomach.
When he finally finished, (Reader) was a mess, covered in his sperm and spilling his seed out of both ends. Growley kissed the top of (Reader's) sweaty head lovingly, overwhelmed by just how sexy they looked ballooned out by his love.
"I told you it was fate, little bird. Rest now, for we have three hundred and twenty-eight years of loneliness to make up for~"
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noonaracha · 4 months
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Me? I was working. Working on music is like my own world.
A gifset for my Secret Santa Giftee @go-saeng!
I hope you have a wonderful holiday ・:*:。☃︎𓏲ּ
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q1ngqve · 3 months
Note
hi!! same anon here you dont have to take this as a request bc i just wanted to get this out of my chest yandere or at least obssesive averatio where both overstim the hell out of reader (lowkey mindbreak if you're comfy about that??) after reader rejects their advances NOT OUT OF HATE or anything but bc their insecurities got the best of them and either thought the two were just messing w them or they have abandonment issues (i do not have the second one whatever do you mean i am not projecting do not percieve me) no offense to these two but they look like the ppl to mess w your heart n leave you to rot
mb some predator/prey (they both hunt you down after you avoid them both and as ratio wisely said "what do you do with a cornered prey? hunt it to death" AUGHAHSGA) aphrodisiacs, drugging, etc. anyways after that you best bet you'll be too dumb to ever think of something as stupid as that, and sure, yes ratio hates idiots but well..... you will be the only exception given how cute you look all fucked out and broken on their bed with their cocks deep inside you <3
SKLDJALSDJAL HELP i feel awfully embarrassed w writing this lmao scuse me while i bleach my head.
i am very sorry this took so long </3 i wrote this as a fic at first but i lost motivation so now it’s just in the form of brain rot :(
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oh no :( poor reader with insecurities from your past relationships thinking every man out there is a liar, especially the two that gave their hearts to you :( running away from them is a smart move because we don’t trust men in this household!
but you forget how annoying they can be when it comes to getting what they want, and they want you (´▽`) so don’t be surprised when you find yourself feeling scared out of your mind walking home alone and feeling like you’re being watched! or when you find certain luxury items randomly appearing in your room! or the slightest hint of their cologne when you wake up every morning! because you asked for this by running away 😵‍💫
this was supposed to be holiday for you — coming to penacony, but the headache and blurry room before you has you panicking! you best know that no one is coming to save you when you’re running through the reverie hotel like a lost bunny when you receive a letter saying they’ll have you tonight! and if you think you had any chance of escape, you’re so wrong 😖
oh, and don’t let them know that you’re afraid, it only spurs them on! hunting you down through the corridors of the hotel is so adrenaline inducing for them <3 running shouldn’t be so hard though, so why do you feel as if your legs are going to give out any second? oh right, the drink! they probably drugged it, seems like something they would do
an exasperated gasp leaves you when you finally let your body fall, eyes closing, preparing for impact. and the next thing you know you wake up, hands tied above you to the headboard, your body completely bare. you’d struggle with all your might, soft whines sounding at the back of your throat when you spot the two of them hiding in the shadows, staring down at you with those bright, lust-filled eyes
oh, you’re so dead
your body feels like it’s on fire, desperately needing release, needing someone to touch you, anyone. your voice betrays you as whimpers leave you when they stalk towards you, their burning gaze not helping with the burning sensation.
you really did think you could escape! so why’re you here, tied and unable to move? tears fall as you lock eyes with veritas ratio, your fight or flight kicking in when he reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping the tears away. laughter sounds from aventurine on the other side of the bed, you’re just so naive! all he wants to do is to love and break you until you’re a sobbing mess beneath him 😵‍💫 so don’t blame him when he kisses you, he just can’t help it anymore, not when you’re already shaking when all they did was drug your drink and reveal themselves to you after months of stalking :(
the aphrodisiac is making you incredibly sensitive to their touch, which is perfect for them because that would mean hearing your sweet cries of pleasure! you best prepare yourself though, because they’re not stopping until you’re about to pass out 🧎🏻‍♀️ they haven’t had you for months, nobody is going to stop them from worshipping you, not even yourself.
you’ll be so overstimulated by the end of the night that even just innocent touches can have you whining and trembling like a leaf (^^)
“you really think you can run from us?” — veritas ratio
“who you knew you were so filthy, hmm? you wanted us to hunt you down, didn’t you? dirty, dirty girl.” — veritas ratio
“missed you so much, pretty girl.” — aventurine
“stop? now why would we do that? you’re clearly enjoying this. look at you, making such a mess on my cock.” — aventurine
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🥺 hi. I get so anxious asking for requests. So I’m sorry if it’s weird. But could I please please Pleaseee get a ghost x fem reader. Hurt to comfort. They were on a mission and she’s there for medic help. Not even to fight. But she got taken by the bad guys. And she gets tortured for information that she doesn’t have. And they play mind games with her. Making her think that they will never come rescue her. They really fully break her body and break her mind by the end of it. But before she thinks she’s about to finally die, Ghost and the others come and save her. And it’s about how the only person she feels safe with after all that is ghost and just him helping her heal and get back to the woman she was before all this. I want it to hurt my soul. 😭 but then there’s hope at the end of it bc they have each other.
My Heart Will Go On
Don't be, I love when people ask me things, and I looooved this request so much!!! I too like to torturehave fun with my OC's :)
TW: Blood, torture, manipulation
Pairing: GhostxReader
Part 2
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen at all, actually. It was just another mission, another day on the job. You went out with the boys as usual, their assigned medic as theyghost refused to work with anybody else. You weren’t sure why. Maybe it was your soft demeanor, your gentle touch, the way you never judged himthem for anything hethey did. But whatever it was, they liked you, and so with them you went.
You hung back at the evac point, also as usual. Sitting in the truck, first aid kit on your lap, a comm in your ear as you listened to your boys and made sure they were all okay. It was a tense fight, gunshots and pained grunting filling your headset. You were on edge, rocking back and forth as you listened for your que to come in. In fact, you were so focused on the comms that you didn’t even notice the danger you were in until it was too late.
Your first cue something was wrong was when the comms went silent. The sounds of battle filled your ears for hours before getting cut off abruptly. Your hand shot to the comm link, fiddling with it as you frantically tried to reconnect, worried something was wrong.
“Ghost, do you copy?”
“Ghost?”
“Price?”
“Gaz?”
“Can you hear me??” Your voice got more and more panicked as you got no response. You yanked the headset off and shrugged your vest on, kit in hand as you slid out of the truck.
Your second clue something was wrong was when you looked up to see the barrel of a gun pointed directly at your face. You didn't even have time to ask ‘what’ before everything went dark.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hello, princesa.” You blink hard as the blindfold is removed from your eyes. The light is blinding, the splitting headache you got from being pistol whipped only intensifying under the harsh lights.
“Who are you?” You manage after a moment, eyes slowly focusing on the man in front of you. He is large, easily over six foot, and built like an absolute unit. His face is covered by a black balaclava, though his scarred, tattooed forearms are on display.
“Don’t play stupid with me.” His voice is deep and smooth, and if you weren’t in the situation you are in you would have asked him to keep talking.
“‘M not! I don't-"
“Don’t lie to me Princesa. I don’t like liars.” A shiver runs down your spine as his tone darkens.
“But I’m-”
“Ah ah lovie, I am one asking questions here.”
“I wasn’t ask-”
“SHUT UP!” You flinch back at the drastic change in tone, the sound sending bolts of pain through your skull.
“Oh sorry Princesa, did that hurt?” Seriously, you are going to get whiplash from his bi-polar personality, “Forgot you have concussion. Let's get you Advil for that and then we see if you talk, yeah?"
You watch with blurry vision as he leaves the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound sends waves of agony through your pounding head, and by the time you can focus again he's back.
All it takes is one well placed blow to the head, an attempt to get you to pay attention, and you're out like a light.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I don’t know anything I swear! Please! I don't know anything!” The sobs tear raggedly out of your throat, already raw from screaming. Your voice is scratchy and broken, but still you can't stop begging.
“I don’t know anything” You sob. Those words, I don’t know, had become your motto over the past few daysweeks(?)
“Oh Princesa. I know.” He croons, running a finger down your bruised face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Time was meaningless. Has it been 2 days since you were captured? Two weeks? Months? You don’t know. Your meals come at staggered times, and your captors never come at a routine time. The lights turn on and off at staggered times, nothing in a set pattern, a system created to mess with your mind.
Not that you know that. This wasn’t the kind of life you lived. You were a medic for heaven's sake. Your hands had been built to mend, to fix, to heal. Not to clutch at broken bones, to scratch against cement, to be chained and broken. You arewere a gentle creature, not designed for this world of torture and terror.
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"They no come for you." You moan as the words pound through your skull, nearly unintelligible.
"Wh'...y'say?" You mumble, voice scratchy and broken.
"You're friends, Princesa. They are no coming for you." He sighs and moves next you, prodding your side with his steel-toed boot, "You are replaceable, your skills are easily replicated, they no spend time and resources to find a simple medic."
"They…'ll c'me." You wheeze, refusing to belive that Price, that Gaz, that Soap, that Ghost, would just...leave you.
He laughs in response, digging his toe into your side until your gasping in pain.
"We shall see, Princesa. We shall see."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You weren’t built for this. Weren’t built to recognize the manipulation, the mind games. Weren’t built to survive the two-face man who was reshaping your brain. The man who was your greatest source of pain, but also your only friend. The man that flayed your flesh open, but soothed and bandaged you when it was all over. This man, who was slowly becoming the only thing you could trust in your unstable world. He may bring you unbearable pain, but he brought you comfort too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"That looks bad, Princesa." The man lightly touches the bones sticking out of your forearm. You whine in pain, clutching it to your chest. He chuckles, wiping your blood off on the cell floor.
"Let's get that fixed up, yeah?" His voice is soft, and gentle, and the nicest thing you've heard in a loooong time. His touch is the same, gentle caresses of bruised and broken skin, revolting and appealing at the same time.
Oh, it's utter agony as he sets and stitches your arm with no pain killers. You scream, back arching, lungs heaving, body seizing.
But after? Oh it's heaven. He holds you, cradling you against his warm body, making sure you don't go into shock, telling you you're a good girl, and that you've made him proud. You hate yourself for it, but you can't help but preen at the praise.
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He brings you a calendar. One month. It’s been one month since you got taken.
“It’s been over a month.” He says, a deep voice tinged with pity, “and no sign of your…friends. I’d give up being rescued if I were you, because they clearly have.” You can barely hear him as you stare at the paper in his hands, 31 days marked off with big, bright X’s. 31 days that you have been trapped here. 31 days that your squad…hadn’t come for you. Is he right? Are they really not coming? Did Ghost really give up on you? Are you-
“Ay Princesa, I even did what you asked. I sent your squad pictures and videos that even the greenest tech member could pull some coordinates from, but nothing. It’s like I said. Your ‘friends’ don’t care for you. They are not coming for you. I am your only friend in this place. Tell me, who bandages your wounds, who feeds you, who makes sure your living space is comfortable?”
“Y-you do.” You whisper uncertainty, “But…you also hurt me, don’t you?”
“Oh Princesa, I wouldn’t hurt ya if y’ would just listen. It not torture if you're disobedient. It's just…punishment.” His voice is sickeningly sweet, “And you just back-talked me. Do you remember what happens when you try to give me sass?”
"I get…punished." You mumble, cheeks flushing with shame.
"Obviously, you fucking idiot. I mean how."
"I…you…I have to do affirmations."
"Look at that, y'r gettin' it!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Say it again." He snarls. You sit in front of a mirror, face bruised, bleeding, and swollen.
"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends…'re n-no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'v'ble…I 'm r'pl'c'…able." You whisper for the hundredth time.
"Again."
"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."
"Again!"
"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."
He makes you keep going, repeating those 4 sentences until you literally can't make sound anymore, a fact he tests by seeing how much it takes to get you to scream. You pass out before he gets anywhere.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Ghost?"
"Simon?"
"Please."
"Why are you not coming for me?"
just FYI if the timing seems disjointed and the speech is wierd, that is intentiweird,
anyways I hope you liked it!!!!
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