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inklore · 6 months
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— feel free to request more colors.
like or reblog if you use them please!
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bethsvrse · 5 months
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me, a writer, at 3am: WHAT? I CANT FIND THE SPECIFIC FANFIC THAT I MADE UP IN MY MIND WITH A WHOLE PLOT AND ORIGINAL CHARACTERS??? WHO DO THEY THINK THEY ARE??? DO THEY EXPECT ME TO WRITE THE STORY I THOUGHT UP OF???
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itsmrvlxh50 · 5 months
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The chokehold 2012 Avengers tower fanfiction has on me is insane
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90sbee · 6 months
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Dying is not an option (when you're by my side)
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Leon S. Kennedy x Gn!reader
1k words. Also on a03
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Soft fingers caress his lips, keep his body warm, his belly full and his back massaged.
“I’ll always have a home,” Leon finally manages to get out, a complete sentence, voice without hesitation.
He closes his eyes, kisses the skin of your shoulder.
Hell, he is trying.
When his mind seems to get too clouded by the visions of monsters, you pull him out of the depths of his trauma. He does his best to love you. He tries.
Or the fic in which you make Leon repeat comforting phrases so it finally gets in his head that he is loved.
Just a very soft idea that wouldn't leave my head and that's been too long in the wip folder. The warnings make it seem worse than it is, but happy ending I promise!!! Had re4r in mind for this one but can be read with other older versions of him. (Though the older the Leon, the angstier it gets lmao)
Content: No use of y/n, very very soft love, hurt/comfort, some angst, established relationship, living together, sitting on his lap, a tiny bit of possessive Leon (yay!)
Warnings: +18 ONLY. No smut but some suggestive lines. Mentions of blood, suicide, guns and overall (some brief) gore. Leon's mental struggles (depression, anxiety). I'm not a native English speaker but I (lazily) proofread and edited this one.
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You lean forward, just a little closer to his body. Leon groans, his face unreadable still.
“Don’t want to,” he muses, kind of annoyed at your proposal.
“Just trust me.”
He reluctantly nods, as you get comfortable on his lap. His firm thighs under you, the warmest and comfiest seat you could ever ask for.
You worry about him, worry so much.
You know now: know what he does, what he works as. At first it was hard to believe it, the stories about human turned monsters, about creatures that linger between heaven and hell. But you had to believe him, you were forced to the first time Leon crumbled down in your arms, sobbing the entirety of the night, the immensity of his body reduced to shivering and tears.
“I love you,” you had told him that time. “I’m not letting you go. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
You whisper the same things again now, your voice reverberating close to his ear. Leon eases the grip on your hips, replaces it with a soft touch. He tries to calm down, closes his eyes for a moment too long.
“You love me,” he seems to ask, as if trying to convince himself of it, as if trying to find himself worthy of such a feeling from someone like you.
“I do,” you confirm, cupping his cheeks.
He nods, though his heart is thumping in his chest still. Your hands move to his shoulders, then to his arms, caressing the skin with soft strokes.
“I love you… Look at me.”
He obliges, eyes like the ocean, marked by the heavy and dark eyebags.
It breaks your heart to see him like this. Your lip trembles as you lean closer, shortening the distance.
It is entirely possible —as you’re so much aware of— that one day you’ll come home to an unlocked gun and his body in the bathtub. Or maybe it would be the rifle, the carpet stained with blood and pieces of what used to be his jaw.
A jaw that you love so much, that you kiss now.
Leon sighs, seems content with such affection, his hands getting lost down your thighs.
“Listen to me. You’re gonna repeat as I say, okay?” an attempt to get him out of his head, to remind him of who he is.
“ …‘Kay,” he mumbles, seemingly distracted.
“I’m… good.”
He scrunches his nose, pinkish lips downturned. Naturally, he doesn’t dare to say those words. He doesn’t want to trick his brain.
“C’mon,” you egg him, patting his shoulder gently.
The action seems to at least make his lips curve slightly.
“I’m good,” he whispers, his voice insecure.
He tries. You can see how hard he does it: coming home as much possible, the dirty laundry now clean and with a soft cinnamon scent. A sunflower in the kitchen vase next to the window, the coffee mug always clean even when you leave it in the sink, ready to be washed in the morning.
“I’m a good partner,” you resume, reminiscing.
That does stops him in his tracks, a gentle blush rooting on his cheeks, the smile more pronounced now. Leon presses his face against your neck.
“… Do I really have to say it?”
“Yep.”
He breathes on your neck, as if trying to take in a bit of your kindness, a bit of your peace. He closes his eyes, tries to control his breathing. But his hands grip your hips harder.
He fucking loves you.
Leon is not sure he deserves this yet, the warm body on the bed, the pretty smile that kisses him goodbye, lets him go away even in the middle of the night.
“I love you,” he backtracks, pressing a kiss on your neck.
You chuckle, and allow him that admission.
“Very cute but that’s not what you had to repeat.”
Leon raises his eyebrows, feigning annoyance. He keeps his fingers on your hips, dancing on your skin, drawing patterns as he keeps you close. He wishes he could sign his name there, mark you forever so you’d never get too far away from him… So he’d always have a right to come back to you.
“But I love you…” he pouts.
You grab his face with utmost care, force his cheeks to look upwards at your face.
“I love you too. Lots.”
You kiss his forehead. His body melts under that touch.
“ ‘m a good partner” he mumbles, quickly.
“My baby loves me.”
Now Leon chuckles.
“My baby loves me,” he hides again on your neck, his smile etched constantly on his face now. You hug him closer, kiss his forehead once more, as if sheltering a lost angel in your arms.
“I’ll always have a home.”
Oh, that one seems to break him a little. Leon immediately whines, his hands gripping your body with ferocity against his. He can’t say… He shouldn’t. He… he can’t and…
His heart starts beating faster and he gulps.
“You can do it…” you encourage him and he wants to try. He knows, deep inside, that is true and that he is now safe. It takes him several minutes until his anxiety dissipates and he can look up at you, your eyes encapsulating warmth that he had never experienced with anyone else.
Soft fingers caress his lips, keep his body warm, his belly full and his back massaged.
“I’ll always have a home,” Leon finally manages to get out, a complete sentence, voice without hesitation.
He closes his eyes, kisses the skin of your shoulder.
Hell, he is trying. It is seen not only in how much he makes time for you, but also in the way he follows along with your little silly ideas, suggestions to try to build himself up again.
And though he wouldn’t directly admit it, since you two are together he has promised himself to fight his hardest in every mission. He spits his own blood, wipes off the exhaustion from his face and keeps pushing forward. Because, he’ll be damned, he wants to see you once more. And once more. And again and again… And when he comes home, to you, Leon immediately checks —for the tenth time— the safety on each gun and leaves them in locked boxes, his fingers slowly forgetting what it’s like to toy with weapons in the sanctuary that you’ve built for the two of you. The cold of the metal is now replaced by the warmth between your thighs, the flesh on your hips, the softness of your hands.
Hell, he is definitely trying.
And it’s fucking working.
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God to be on his lap honestly!!! A dream. And if you've made it to the end, thank you!! Mwah, sweet soul 💙
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celestialwrites · 8 months
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ comforting dialogue prompts
@celestialwrites for more!
♡ “i’ve got you, you’re okay.”
♡ “don’t worry, i won’t let anything happen to you.”
♡ “will you stay?” “of course, i’m not planning on leaving anytime soon.”
♡ “please just let me hold you?”
♡ “i swear that if you don’t get down here and let me take care of you i will make your life hell!”
♡ “what the hell are you doing?” “shut up and let me hug you.”
♡ “i love you, you know that right?”
♡ “i’m going to take care of you until we are old and wrinkly, get used to it, darling.”
♡ “i won’t stop until you let me take care of you!” “alright fine! fine! you can!”
REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WRITERS <3
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bluberimufim · 6 months
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WIP Intro
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Title: Devourer of Souls
Genre + tropes: Fantasy, found family, fairytale retelling (Snow White and Rose Red)
Tag: devourer of souls wip
Themes (may be subject to change with the 1st draft): destruction vs creation, inherent contradictions of femininity, anti-war, choosing your own family, freedom from expectation, religious trauma
Status: outlining + first draft
Additional notes: I'm gonna (try to) do this for NaNo!! Wish me luck!!
edit: this is now a duology!
Plot
Seth was supposed to be a healer. That's what everyone said she would be. She would become a healer and fight in the war for the Goddess of Time. But her healing doesn't work like it's supposed to. Instead of giving life, she takes it away. People say she eats souls.
She tries to live a quiet life in the countryside, away from the war, but is rudely interrupted when Theo, a lost demigoddess, wanders into her life. Together, they try to find a place for themselves and their strange magic in this world. But war is never kind, and the Goddess of Time wants her daughter's power on her side - and she won't let some pesky healer get in her way.
Characters
Seth: a girl with terrifying powers who just wants a quiet life in a small town, alone, but learns to be happy after finding Theo. She was expelled from the hospital she was apprenticing for a failed healing that killed the patient and permanently damaged her leg in the process.
Theo: a powerful demigoddess whose magic is making her soul slowly wither away. Her adoptive family sent the Order after her after discovering her unusual powers and ends up finding Seth on her journey. Through her Goddess-Mother's influence, she becomes consumed by the war.
Flick: a teenager touched by the Goddess of Love, whose body houses two conflicting souls. They are cursed to have anyone they meet fall in love with them, and Seth takes them under her wing while on their journey to find themself.
Jane: a sort of puppet created by the Goddess of Time to replace Theo after her death, delivered to Seth when the Goddess couldn't stand her anymore. She's in the mortal world for the first time and trying to figure out who she wants to be.
The Goddess of Time: Theo and Jane's mother. By far the most ruthless - and broken - among her sisters. She lives in her Garden in the plane of the gods, where she takes her daughters to shape them into her champions.
Notes on the setting
everything in this world has a soul, or life force, which can be transferred by those with the right magical inclination
usually, healers can only direct the "souls" from themselves to other in order to heal them, and when their soul runs out, they die - it is the ultimate sacrifice and a healer's greatest honour, to surrender their very souls to their Goddess
there are three Sister Goddesses, each representing a core aspect of humanity, waging war against each other to see who is more powerful (I expand upon it here)
certain types of powerful magic can cause your soul to start eating itself if not kept in check, as is Theo's case
Edit: you can follow the development of Seth and Theo's relationship in the tag #the great Seth and Theo relationship liveblog
If you've read this far - thank you! I hope my WIP has interested you!
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frenchkisstheabyss · 9 months
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♡ Some of the dividers/break banners I threw together on Canva in case you don't feel like making one yourself♡
There are also some "minors dni" ones near the end!
I didn’t think of it until someone reblogged that some people might be afraid of bugs so I moved the spider & bumblebee beneath the break for people who are scared of them ❤️
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manofthepipis · 19 days
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One thing that I’ve noticed is the amazing storytelling and character development Survey and Clicks are going through! They both have conflicting emotions, but seem to handle them very differently. It kind of reminds me of ‘Nice v.s Kind’ mentality. From my perspective, Survey is nice, but Clicks is kind.
For nice people, most of their characteristics are this:
- never wants to rock the boat
- Most concerned about not upsetting someone
- Afraid to speak up when they witness unkind behavior
- Censoring yourself for others feelings
- Enabling
Most of these in my opinion match Survey and their own mental battles pretty spot on! I should probably also mention early on that I don’t think Survey is evil, or acting out on any ill-will towards Spam, quite the opposite actually! Survey is probably walking on eggshells with every interaction they have with him. They haven’t had time to process through their own grief and PTSD from the last Neo rampage, so, that involuntary spills out when they don’t mean to. An example of this is when Swatch was talking to them about Neo, and their first thoughts were “Oh, Neo, great” clearly stating their apprehension towards the topic (and for a very good reason! Regardless of the mental state of the perpetrator, it’s hard to forgive and forget after a scenario like that). However, they also unfortunately, have that double whammy of the grief they felt by leaving Spamton alone, and was the only other Addison that actually heard the voice on the phone, therefore, they have an even more horrifying perspective of what Spamton went through. They somehow think that turning Spamton back into the white Addison will be the solution to all of their problems. Which, while one might think it cruel, given Surveys perspective, it makes a lot of sense. They can’t help but be scared of Spamton, they don’t want to be afraid, but they are so scared of that overwhelming feeling of NEO, and, it’s not like Survey has heard anything positive about Spamton’s new appearance. With the “burning hot plate sensation” to “I can’t say anything without being swamped by Ads” it makes sense that Survey would want to alleviate that burden. I really hope that one of the other Ads are able to catch on to Survey’s mental state, and help. Right now, my contester is Banner. Those two seem to be a little bit closer than the others, especially when it came to Spamton. Banner was also the one who noticed Survey’s apprehension and terror when Neo was in their house. This is getting to long LMAO so the summarize, ADDISONS!!! SPAMTON!! PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE ONE LIGHTING THEMSELVES ON FIRE TO KEEP YOU ALL WARM!!!!
To move on, Clicks on the other hand, is kind. For kind people, their personalities are like this:
- Willing to make waves
- Clear, direct communication, even when uncomfortable
- Being true to their own values or feelings
- Helping
- Acting from genuine feelings
Now Clicks isn’t a saint, he’s an asshole and a drama queen, even he himself admits this. However, he definitely gets the kindness award! As he passes this test with flying colors in my opinion! He doesn’t pull back his punches with Spamton, (like him just telling Spamton to shut the fuck up LMAO) and has the most clear communication with Spam! Spamton himself, recognizes that Clicks isn’t like Banner and Survey who are still trying to test the waters with him, rather, he treats Spamton like an equal. (Even if his sense of equal is just being an asshole). Clicks has also show to value his own feelings, especially with the latest chapter! The reason it took him this long was because before, his feelings were just a giant ball of ???. Once Clicks was able to understand and get through his emotions he was able to have a better understanding of Spamton and his character. (Clicks knows that Spamton hated being that white Addison, Survey is trying to make Spamton that white Addison). Throughout the story, Clicks has shown to have a remarkable sense of body language understanding as well as trying to respect Spamtons boundaries. An example of this is when Spamton thought he was being interrogated by the other ads, and when Clicks senses his discomfort, he tries to drop the topic. Even though he’s an asshole, he definitely wants to be there for all the addisons are a strong shoulder, as well as a protector. Clicks is notorious for making waves, (all with good reason!) If someone like Survey had to have the heart the heart with Spam like Clicks had, I feel like Survey would say something like, “Everyone is capable of change Spamton! And we all want to change for the better and help!” But Clicks is just like, “you are the most egotistical bastard I have ever met. Shut the absolute fuck up.” LMAO I love this guy. Clicks isn’t a nice guy, but he is a kind guy. And that goes a lot farther in my own opinion!
To conclude, Clicks is able to empathize, while Survey sympathizes. Both are so complex it’s so good rararjdndjskdkdnd !!!!!!!
i've gotta say reading this ask/analysis (asknalysis?) has got me smiling from ear to ear because of describing something so accurately i couldn't put it into words better than this
one, i'm extremely thankful for this, and tysm for your thoughts! They're always a pleasure to read especially as i see that so much of these addisons have actually got across :'D
i really really really like writing morally grey characters, and using the kind versus nice personalities is such a great way to describe their moral differences! Surv is definitely trickier, because as you said, they're not evil, they just got a lot going on. they are apprehensive, and definitely walking on eggshells because they have no idea to actually approach this situation other than wanting it over with. Their persistence to find out what happened to spamton in pt 1 was fulfilled (for better or for worse), and being "nice" is what he needed then, to be brought down from his rage and resentment towards them as a group, while kindness is what he needs now. So Survey's inadvertently putting themselves in a worse position, creating divide, just because their approach that worked before isn't working now. And it's not their fault while at the same time, yeah, being their fault. i rlly like this line "setting themselves on fire to keep the rest of you warm" it like 1. is perfect for this and 2. goes hardcore
Without spoiling too much I do believe you have it right :D though Banner isn't in a position as extreme as Survey here, the whole thing is certainly messing with him. He doesn't want to make the wrong decisions anymore about what to do with Spamton's situation, finding it odd and uncanny, rather than devastating like Survey. He wants to make things right, but doesn't have the tools right now to do so. He wants to help, probably more than anyone else, but unyielding optimism isn't going to work and he knows that :')
you're also right about what would have happened if Surv were in Clicks' position then. There wouldn't be much of a resolution other than Survey going back to what they've seen had worked before- talking Spamton (and the rising emotions) down. When said emotions and concerns, instead, needed to be acknowledged and translated to make any progress. With Clicks, processing how he's felt for so long and what Spam's feeling now, it helped them both in one conversation and connection. Spamton's a lot like the addisons than he cares to admit, as he's been one of them at some point, so being an equal is what he's wanted, but then when he never got it, it turned to wanting to be 'bigger' than them, and thus the spiral/decline. Clicks being kind, noticing visual cues of discomfort rather than being impatient with getting information out of Spamton asap when he finally starts talking, is going to make Spamton feel more like an equal and less a belittled outcast, or worse, a freakshow. And though addisons always have their own selfish motivations directing their actions, the outcome of Clicks' approach is pretty selfless in the end.
I'm also so so so glad to have readers that see the differences in empathy versus sympathy and nice versus kind! like, just the subtle differences between each approach, in where each side is commonly seen as synonymous, when in context, they can vary from each other in large ways!! It's enlightening even as a writer to see :D! tysm for sharing!
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ink-flavored · 2 days
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Pride & Justice: Corner Store Rejection
warnings: making-out, semi-public displays of horny, transphobia Banner art by @auroblaze P&J Taglist (Check out my Google form to get added): @elegant-paper-collection @auroblaze @zeenimf @vacantgodling @foxys-fantasy-tales @stesierra @noblebs @thelaughingstag
It was their standard shoplifting procedure.
Pride shouldered the door of the convenience store open, ancient hinges squeaking in protest. The cashier near the wall glanced at him briefly, but offered nothing by way of greeting. He didn’t blame her—the lukewarm air would have made anyone indifferent. Besides, he wasn’t here for pleasantries.
Turning down a random aisle, Pride walked up and down between the rows of packaged and canned human foods to keep up the illusion of a shopper. In reality, he scanned for other customers, cameras, and strained for any sin he could exploit.
They chose the right time to hit this place—as Pride glanced around, he was the only one in the store. He idled to the back near the fridges and pulled out his phone.
nobody else in here, he told Ollie. no cams. cashier bored as hell, should be an easy one.
k, she replied. Business as usual.
Pride opened a random fridge and grabbed the first drink his hand brushed. He still hadn’t picked up a sin from the cashier, which would make this a little tricky. There was always the chance she could be goaded into one, but there was no guarantee. Only one way he could find out.
Decoy purchase in hand, Pride swung back to the front of the store. On his way there, the entrance squealed again, with Ollie, Sofía, and Dante entering soon after. They didn’t acknowledge him, and Pride kept his beeline for the cashier, treating them like normal human strangers. But still no sin. He grabbed a bag of chips to stall for time. Nothing.
He was ready to call his mission futile until the very last second before he stepped up to the counter. A faint tingle wormed its way onto his tongue, the subtle flavor of roses and red wine heralding lust. Weird, but whatever. He could work with that.
“Hey,” he said, stacking his drink on the counter.
“Hi,” the cashier said. She took his drink first, swiping it across the scanner.
“Slow day…” Pride glanced quickly at the nametag pinned to her shirt. “Trinity?”
An unhappy smile twisted her lip. “It definitely isn’t a fast one.”
“I believe it.” He put his elbows on the counter, leaning in. “I don’t think anyone would blame you if you took a nice, long break.”
Smoke poured out of his horns, now perched at the top of his hairline. His tail swished back and forth above the floor. Trinity stopped and stared, eyes mimicking his scarlet glow.
“Take a break?” she repeated.
“Take a long break,” he corrected. “It’s what you deserve.”
“Like I don’t know it.”
“Exactly. You don’t want to stand here all day, do you? In fact, I bet you… want some more satisfying things.”
The tingle of lust bloomed, flooding his mouth. Trinity scratched the counter with chipped nails, gazing across the store at a door marked Employees Only.
“If you’re thinking what I’m thinking,” Pride urged, “you should disappear for a while.”
“It’ll be fast,” she agreed, but it was almost a question. She glanced at him, and he gladly stepped up to answer.
“Why bother? After all, the only thing that matters”—he leaned forward on his palms, close enough to see himself reflected in her eyes—“is whatever you want.”
Without any further prompting, Trinity abandoned the counter. Pride released his influence and plopped back down on his heels, satisfied with a job well done. Another sin for the counter, and Ollie and the rest would be able to grab whatever they wanted. Being the distraction was the best.
But when Trinity circled the counter, she didn’t go across the store like he expected. She came up to him.
“Hey,” she said, smiling coyly. “I just decided I’m on break, and you should come with me.”
“Me?” he asked.
“Yes, you.” Trinity took his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Do you see any other cute guys around here?”
His eyebrows may as well have shot all the way to Heaven. Little did she know, Pride knew exactly what she was proposing, and had quite a hard time believing it. He’d never once considered humans for sex—they were all weird animals, not worth thinking about. But now that this one wanted him, a Rube Goldberg machine of decision making fired off in his mind.
Sure, Trinity was a human, but she wanted to have sex with him. She wanted it enough to sin. Pride couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept with someone this excited. And he had convinced her to do it in the first place, so it would only be fair.
“Sure,” Pride agreed, returning her grip on his hand. “Let’s go.”
Eagerly, she dragged him off toward the marked door. He was only too happy to follow, head held high in pre-mature satisfaction. On the way, they passed his friends crouched at a low shelf. Trinity paid them no mind, but Pride caught Dante’s baffled eye. They mouthed What? as he passed. Pride could only grin and shrug in response before Trinity hauled him out of view. They stopped at the Employees Only door a second later, and she fumbled for a key on her lanyard.
“Hope nobody hears us,” she muttered, a thrill in her voice.
Pride snuck his arms around her waist, mouth pressed against her ear. “I hope they do.”
She turned the door handle with one hand and dragged him by the collar of his shirt with the other. By the time Pride pulled the door closed, she had her arms around his neck, and practically pounced on him for a kiss. He returned it was as much fervor as he could muster through his shock—were all humans like this? Because if they were, he’d have to adjust a few plans for his stay on Earth.
The door turned out to lead to a room not much bigger than a closet, stuffed with cluttered shelves and things crowding the floor. In the dark, Trinity kicked some aside until there was room to shuffle. Pride took the opportunity to push her against the nearest empty wall and give what he was getting.
All that sin-talking must have worked wonders because Trinity flooded his mouth with lust. Knowing it was for him made Pride groan, pressing the kiss deeper. She accepted it with a high, eager noise, mouth dropping open to invite him inside. Surprised again at her openness, Pride tasted the inside of her mouth, drawing his tongue across hers. Her hips jerked and Pride his own forward to pin her, and had to laugh when she whined.
“You really want it, huh?” he teased, bending down to nip her jaw.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “But, uh—” She pushed at his shoulder until he separated. “Do you have a condom on you? I don’t think I have one.”
“I don’t need one.”
She raised her brows. “Yes, you absolutely do.”
Pride rolled his eyes a little. “No,” he reiterated, and popped his fly open. He took her hand and stuck it down his pants until it rested against his crotch. No bulge, but her fingers were long enough to press against the folds of his cunt through his trunks. “I really don’t.”
“Oh.”
Her lust disappeared. Like it had never been there, Pride couldn’t taste a single fleeting thought. Once again baffled, he didn’t notice Trinity slipping her hand free of his.
“I changed my mind actually,” she said, voice clipped.
“What do you mean?” Pride asked.
“I mean, I don’t want this anymore, so.” She flicked her wrists, trying to shoo him away.
“Why?”
“I don’t owe you an explanation. Just—leave.”
Pride took a step back, eyes narrowed, but didn’t leave. “You’re the one who dragged me back here, I feel like you do owe me an explanation actually.”
She huffed, and suddenly what Pride tasted was a cold snap of wrath. “Leave me the fuck alone, or I’m calling the cops.”
“For what?”
She didn’t answer, but dug her phone out of her pocket to menace him with it. Pride threw up his hands and marched out of the closet. He didn’t bother closing it behind him, yanking his fly back together as he stomped across the store. On the way past the check-out, he swiped his decoy purchases off the counter and out the door.
Out on the street, Ollie, Sofía, and Dante were standing around waiting, their theft apparently successful. Pride didn’t bother explaining before stalking down the street toward the train.
“Whoa, hey,” Dante called, jogging to catch up. “That was fast.”
“Did something happen?” Ollie asked, also catching up, with Sofía on her arm.
“Nothing happened,” Pride spat, face twisted up sourly. He didn’t know why he was so pissed. He hadn’t cared about fucking that human, or any human, until she brought it up.
“Why not?”
“I don’t fucking know! Apparently not having a dick is a dealbreaker.” All three of them made noises of disgust at that.
“Then she wasn’t worth it anyway,” Sofía declared.
“Too fucking true,” Dante agreed.
“I hate those people,” Ollie said, and put an arm around his shoulder. “Listen, I can hook you up with some people who are into pretty much anything if you want.”
Pride waved her off. “It’s not a big deal, I’m fine.”
There was a beat of awkward silence, filled in by the cars rushing down the street. “On the bright side,” Dante said, “we got a lot of stuff.”
A conversation began about the ease of their haul, but Pride tuned them out, stewing in his frustration. They all commiserated with him, agreed how ridiculous it was, but none of them were surprised. Ollie confirmed there were more people like Trinity out there. People who would want him one minute, and hate him the next. Were humans like this? The thought stung more than he expected.
More so because he was having fun, at least for a little while. It might have turned his idea of humanity around. There was a human who was willing to fuck him without even knowing his name, and he wanted to fuck her too—a human! He would have laughed at the idea mere hours ago.
The idea rolled over and over in his mind. If there was at least one human who wanted him, surely there had to be others. Surely some of them wouldn’t have ridiculous, unspoken caveats like Trinity. And what would it be like, to be with someone who wanted him? To be with a human, who had no idea what they were getting into bed with?
Pride nudged Ollie with his elbow. “Hey,”
“Hey.”
“So those people who are into ‘anything’… how much of ‘anything’ are we talking?”
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inklore · 6 months
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— feel free to request more colors.
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bakubunny · 7 months
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twelve days of kinkmas challenge rules
incorporate each prompt somewhere into your work. it doesn’t have to be part of the smut, but many of them surely could be with a little creativity. 😋
you can do all twelve prompts, pick only the ones you like, or combine multiple prompts.
three bonus prompts are included if you don’t like one of the ones listed or if you’re itching to write a bonus holiday fic.
sfw/fluff fics are allowed… but the event is called the twelve days of kinkmas. 😉
the goal is to get your creativity flowing and have fun. write as many (or as few) fics as you’d like.
tag your works under #kinkmas 2023 so everyone can find your works. for fluff, you can tag #fluffmas 2023.
the event kicks off on december 1st and ends on december 24th.
giving a special thanks to @arlerts-angel for collaborating with me on the prompt list.
happy holiday writing! ♡
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90sbee · 6 months
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Pull the rope, choke me with your love.
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Leon S. Kennedy x Fem!Reader 6k words (yeah, sorry not sorry). Also on a03
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It feels like coming back to the surface, you think. Leon breathes loudly, panting. He kisses each boob once more, tenderly, resembling a “goodbye”. You look at his motions with half-lidded eyes, and you’re unable to move your gaze away when he detaches from your body, his hand re-emerging from your cunt with traces of your dried blood on his skin. You gasp but Leon barely notices it, rubbing the maroon strokes against his tactical pants swiftly, without any complaint, as if simply getting rid of paint after handling a canvas.
Both of you choose to delay the mission. Maybe it is because there is a confession that you can’t delay anymore.
I guess this is what happens when you get horny in your period. @navstuffs saw it first. @emilzke, you'd say you'd read something like this so, in case you feel like it! (No pressure tho,  mean it!!) Content: Smut. Period sex. Everybody is a switch. (Sub!Leon my beloved). Sex with feelings bc the mutual pining is strong. There is some plot but like, it's mostly smut, ngl. No use of y/n, tons of pet names. Stupid banter, age difference. DI!Leon specifically since I don't think any other version works? Hints of size kink, as usual. Coming in pants. Dry humping (sorry not sorry there is no actual penetration in here. They do have a good time tho. Multiple good times). Warnings: +18 ONLY. Have I already mentioned blood? Yeah, it's not that bloody tho, I promise. Hair pulling, crying during sex (i promise Leon was enjoying it, tho, no dorks were hurt in the writing of this fic), mentions of choking but no actual choking in here. Biting, scratching? I'm not a native English speaker so, apologies for any mistakes.
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Being around Leon always felt like pulling a rope, the material tense, and tense, until letting go of the rope would cause you two to be hurt.
Oh, but what a delightful way to go that would be.
Missions with him would be easy. Well, as easy as putting your life on the line can be. His presence was always a blessing, a protective wall of a man always up to keep you safe. And he did it, numerous times he received cuts, and got bruises on his skin, and once even let his bicep —that one that he would always touch obsessively since then— kiss a bullet, everything to keep you safe.
Even out of missions, Leon was there. He would remain close, check on you. “Gotta make sure my partner is alright,” he’d say, and the way he’d accentuate his words would get you dizzy at times.
The rope felt more like a red string now.
Caging you, his warm body on top of yours now, barely attempting to remain prude.
“You’re gonna freeze to death,” he had said, closing the distance between you two. The whole mission today had been a fiasco, even if Leon had been eyeing you more intensely than other times, stepping closer, more protective than usual. It had actually been his idea to turn back when it became glaringly obvious that infiltrating into the building would take more hours than you had planned. Retracing steps, radioing for back-up that would take until the very next morning to show up with more ammo, and finishing with the directions to a nearby safe house, which was sadly devoid of anything helpful to endure a fall night like this. “Don’t worry, they say body heat is actually the best heater,” he’d teased you, as you buttoned up your light jacket. But when he’d actually pushed you onto the ground and clumsily climbed on top of you, you knew he was serious. And though it wasn’t the first time you two had ended up so close, bodies tangling in each other, it was the first time he seemed so devoted to get that physical contact.
You let him have that. The night is not that chilly, the morning is not so far away. In the bleak, scarce space of the cabin, there aren’t many options. Sure, you could spend the night talking yourselves awake, back to back. Or maybe one of you could rest their head on the other’s lap as the other keeps a lazy guard.
But you choose to be close. Fucking close, breathing in each others’ faces. You know by now that the rope is about to cut, that you’re going to end up crossing the limits, but for now, there is no stopping. In the secluded safe house, you let Leon breathe close to your ear, pretend you don’t realize what he may need. After all, you followed him way too compliant today, no ifs or buts about delaying the mission, resting your head against his shoulder as he radioed for the damned helicopter, letting your hand graze his on the way to the cabin.
Maybe neither of you want to wait anymore for the rope to break on its own.
“You okay?”
He sighs then. Brows furrowed as he nods, his expression serious.
“Yeah,” his voice is raspy, a lingering exhaustion dripping from his words. “Just wished we could have finished with this already…”
Your hands swiftly move to his back, fingers rubbing softly over the thin material of his jacket. Leon melts a little at that, breathing against your face. A soft growl escapes his throat when your hands move higher, pressing against the muscles of his shoulders.
At that, he does seem to feel a bit flustered, looking to the side, towards the rusty cabin door. You attempt to hide the chuckle that leaves your mouth.
“What’s so funny?” He snarks, his cheeks already pinker.
“You’re literally a whore, Kennedy.”
“Jeez,” he raises his eyebrows, finally looks back at you. “You’re being an absolute darling tonight, huh… ” he muses, a smirk crossing his face.
“It’s your fault. You’re the one that decided to get on top of me, unprompted.”
“… C’mon. You know we didn’t bring any camping equipment for this crap…  Just lemme take care of you.”
His explanation is, of course, true, but teasing him seems like a better pastime for this chilly night. “Well, still. I’m a lady with boundaries. Maybe I do not want a sweaty man on top of me.”
“Excuse me?” Leon licks his lips, his face leaning a little closer to yours now. “I’m not just a sweaty man, I’m your mission partner.”
“Yeah, my mission partner that decided to moan after I just massaged his back a little.”
“God, I did not moan,” he puffs out his cheeks, shaking his head.
“Well, maybe you should.”
A silence rings through the cabin as soon as you utter those words. Much to your surprise, but not regretting them. Leon stares at you, gaze unreadable as he tilts his head. You begin to feel a little nervous, your hands slowly abandoning his back.
Why would you even admit it that way? Too straightforward, too blunt. Yes, he is your mission partner, he’s got your back all these years but… What if it was just that? A good partner at work. Simply a kind man. The possibility of having confused his chivalry with affection makes you feel stupid.
You suddenly feel small under him, and you gulp, trying to squirm away from him.
“Wait, no. What did—what did you say?” He finally reacts, one of his hands cupping your cheek now.
“Nuthin’.”
“Didn’t sound like nuthin’ to me,” he presses.
Leon looks at you, and there is a new glimmer in his eyes. A certain hunger, encompassing his words and his presence. It invigorates you with a sort of bravery, and you nod, very slowly, your eyes not even leaving his. Your hands go back to their place, on his back, but this time under the jacket, under the grey t-shirt he is wearing. You observe his reaction, as a little prey seeing how much she can test the waters before death comes upon her.
His gaze moves away from your eyes, lower, until it reaches your lips. And then your hands ascend on the skin of his back, scratching slowly.
“F—fuck,” is the only thing he can manage out before his lips descend onto yours, kissing clumsily, biting the tender flesh with desperation.
The rope has fucking snapped now. You both know it. And it stings, but the burn is good, so fucking good, as his teeth bite harder, as if eager to make your lips bleed.
“Since… since when?” He demands, catching his breath.
“Don’t be fucking stupid. Since always,” you reply, kissing him once more, already missing the taste of his spit, the roughness of his mouth.
It’s as if oxygen was running out of the room, mind dizzy with him, his smell, his hands now attempting to reach under your t-shirt, but you move away, mouths parting for a moment. Leon stops, a question in his eyes. He knows you. He knows the way you react, can notice that he hasn’t overstepped anything, that your trembling figure is still comfortable under him.
“Just… you. Lemme… lemme touch you,” you try to explain, in a daze, hands now gripping his hips, and he groans against your ear. You take off his jacket, strong arms getting caressed while you do so. Leon breathes heavily as your fingers dance on his jaw, as your mouth licks his neck.
“Shit,” he lets out, every single pleasure point in his body reacting to your actions.
God, he has wanted you for so long. Trapped between his job and the impossibility to properly care for you, to have you in the way he actually desired you, he had promised himself to protect you. In and out of missions, a shadow always behind you. If he would have nothing else in his life, so be it. Just your presence would be enough. His heart is thumping, rattling loudly in his chest as the woman he’s adored for so long presses her affections on his skin.
He moans louder, hides his face against your shoulder. Lower, his cock twitches, rapidly filling up with desire.
“C’mon… Grind on me, Leon,” you murmur, words sweet as a spell.
God, if this was a dream he’d never want to wake up. And if he had somehow died, this was better than any Heaven he could have imagined.
“What are y—are you fucking serious?” He tries to inquire through heavy breaths, already losing his mind. It doesn’t even cross his mind if you would want to go further, if he could sink deep inside you, but rather, his brain is mush from just the idea of having you like this. Fuck it, your invitation sounds like a blessing to him.
“Please… You’re so good to me…” you add, needy.
He growls again, but in the way a wounded animal tries to scare its hunter away. He is fucking broken, deliriously split apart into a thousand pieces because of you. At your feet, drunk in your smell and your minx-like hands.
You move your pelvis, legs interlocking around his hips, the feel of your cargo pants against the hardness between his legs making you whine.
God damn. He is already hard anyway.
Leon obliges, as if enchanted by you, unable to refuse such a delicious proposal. Your hips move in tandem with his, and his hard cock aches in his pants, grinding slowly against your clothed cunt.
“Fuck,” he whines out, as your fingers then graze the skin on his back once more, deliriously making him lose his mind. “Gonna kill me, huh?”
You bite his jaw once more, wetness pooling between your legs with every moment. It is funny, how hours before the dark cabin seemed to be a cold refuge, yet now it seems to ooze warmth, sweaty bodies full of desire.
And though this Heaven seems way more than a man like him could bargain for in a hundred lives of sainthood, Leon breathes heavily, suddenly aware that this might be wrong. It might be, since you’re younger than him, and he has been your mission partner and you two work together and mission partners cannot be involved and—
“No, we—we shouldn’t…” he stills himself then, voice heavy.
You look up at him, gentle eyes blessing him from underneath his body.
God. You look so beautiful and his heart is gonna jump out of his chest and he wants to continue but you will surely agree, right? You’re too young, too soft of a creature for someone so broken like him and—
“Why?” you caress his back slowly, tilting your head.
The openness of the question throws him off his mind.
“Well, we… I mean… I…”
“We can stop if you need it,” you quickly add, nodding. You want him, yeah, but most importantly, you respect him. It is the least he has earned, after all his loyalty throughout the years.
He gulps, and shakes his head.
“No, I do want it… I just—” Leon huffs, licking his lips, still in disbelief.
“Leon… I want you. Been waiting for this… Been craving you,” you try to explain it in devotion terms, a language you’ve both shared for a while. He seems more relaxed at this, and hides his face on the crook of your neck, his breathing steadier as you stroke his back.
“I promise… Promise it’s not just about…” he begins, but you nod.
“… I know. I mean… I imagined so,” you admit, belly heating up not just from his weight on top of yours.
A confession.
He stays quiet for a moment, arms flexing as he changes his position, lets himself fall a little closer to you. It’s clear he won’t ask for it again, but god, you do want to give it to him. Boner already needy, body too vulnerable to be left like this.
Once more, you do it for him. Move your hips gently, chasing the pressure he provides against your cunt. Leon then moans, kissing your neck.
“I… I can?” he asks, tentatively.
“Yes, please.”
He won’t ask more, no need to ask twice. Though his brain may be hazy and overwhelmed by your perfume, he knows nothing could compel him to stop this, not now that he knows you want him.
Your hands return to his back, scratching the skin harshly, noticing how his breath hitches.
“Oh, god,” he coos, closing his eyes. His pelvis dancing harder against yours, movements faster.
Leon finds your mouth once again, trying to kiss his shame away since he already feels so close. In between the fact that he hadn’t had sex in a long while and the fact that, heck, it’s you… He is trying his hardest to stretch the moment, to not ruin it already…
But you do notice it, of course. When you pull apart one of your hands goes to his jaw, forcing him to look at you.
“Leon.”
“Fuc—yeah?”
“Ask me… ask me for anything you want… You deserve to feel good.”
He fucking growls at that, so entranced by your words. His hips suddenly stopping for a moment, his heartbeat accelerating.
He has almost come.
“Pull my hair, please,” he breathes out after he is sure he can continue for a bit more.
Swiftly, your hand moves to his hair, grabbing a strand at the back, near his nape and pull hard.
“Oh, fuck,” his movements are faster now, cock rubbing too harshly against his underwear and his pants but he needs it, needs you so much. You pull his hair once more, your other hand clawing at his back as you also grind against him, the spot between your legs already dampened.
The sensation feels like too much and not enough at once. It hurts from how sensitive his member is, rubbing himself raw against your legs, but oh god. You offer him the hottest sight he has had the pleasure of witnessing in his life.
He presses his face against your neck once more, panting next to your ear, unaware that he is painting your skin with his own tears.
“Gonna come… Fuck, gonna come,” he cries out, moving faster and at some point you grind against him too, pressure becoming too much as you pull his hair and, fuck.
His elbows almost give up, unable to hold himself properly on top of you, but he avoids crushing you with all his weight still, as he rides out his orgasm, now tasting the salty tears he had spilt.
Leon breathes heavily… but he doesn’t want to stop.
Quickly, his mouth sinks on your neck, kissing and biting, causing moans to leave your throat.
“Le—Leon,” you pant, body sensitive and wetness already ruining your pants.
“Need to touch you… please? Need to taste you…” he begs, and one of his hands goes to your belt, buckle released as he nears your zipper…
You groan then, in frustration, and he frowns, gaze back on your eyes.
“What is it?”
“I’m… I’m on my period,” you admit, barely a whisper.
You look at him, shame crossing your features, the bitter reminder that your body may have ruined the moment that you have dreamed about for so long. “Sorry,” you add, voice timid.
“Hey, no, no apologies,” he immediately coos, his hand travelling to cup your cheek. He looks at you with an immense softness from his glistening eyes, full of love. Leon sighs before moving forward, leaving a kiss on your forehead.
“Would you like to stop?” He asks, close to your mouth.
Your thoughts are hazy, body still churning from inside. It’s clear that you don’t want that option but you’re unsure on how to proceed under this situation.
Leon rests his forehead against you, his face awaiting for your reply. There is no rush in his tone, quite the opposite in fact. He looks at you as if willing to stare at you for his whole life, existence content with just the sight of you. That gives you more confidence, even with the threat of uncertainty on the horizon: you trust him. You trust him more than anyone else.
You shake your head.
“Good girl,” he praises you. “I’ll just make you feel good, take care of you, okay?”
His voice is raspy, but soft, resembling his touch. A little harsh, a little rough as he pulls the zipper down and wriggles your pants down. Yet the pads of his fingers are exquisitely tender, caressing your thighs. Your underwear sports a huge damp spot just in your gusset, but Leon seems blissfully willing to ignore it, even through your heavy breaths.
He moves lower, pulls your t-shirt up slowly, immediately kissing the flesh of your hips.
“Fuck,” you mutter, curving your back.
“Attagirl,” he moves to kiss the other hip, biting slowly.
You moan then, skin shivering under his motions, his touch.
“… You’re teasing.”
Leon chuckles, kissing near your navel as he rubs your sides and your arms.
“You know, I don’t hear you complaining, though.”
Ah, he is acting cocky now. You giggle, amused at his remark, while one of his hands rubs your inner thigh.
“Bet you’re so frustrated that you can’t touch more,” you shake your head, looking down at him.
“Who said I can’t touch more?” Leon says, raising his eyebrow.
“Wh—Oh,” you try to ask what he has in mind when he swiftly moves his hand straight to your cunt, rubbing your clit over your panties. “F—fuck.”
The sonofabitch… You close your eyes, body slowly tensing under his touch. Leon rubs a little faster for a moment, and you move your hips, breath hitching in your throat.
“This okay, baby?” he checks, motions slower and gentler.
“Yeah… Yeah,” you open your eyes, nodding. He looks up at you, places a kiss on your belly once more. Your hand moves to tangle in his hair, needing something to ground yourself before you get lost in him.
“I got you, I got you,” he says, gentle, so fucking gentle you could melt in his hands, as snow under a strong relentless midday sun. You sigh, trying not to overthink your situation, how at any point your body could embarrass you, end up staining your panties with blood or…
“You’re nervous,” Leon says, serious.
“I’m not,” but your voice is a little shaky.
He snarks. “Can’t make you come unless you relax… Do you trust me?” Leon moves closer, leaning forward, almost against your face once more though he never stops rubbing your clit. The motions make you delirious, contact too soft but so good… You mewl, dizzy.
“I do. I trust you.”
“Good,” he remarks, and he kisses you. You notice his hand moving from your panties to your back, his mouth biting your lips with delicacy as Leon unclasps your bra. You whine at that, but he keeps on kissing you, his presence overtly strong and reassuring on top of you. Yet he doesn’t feel overwhelming, but rather, comforting. Like a wall against which to rest, like a pouring rain after a dry summer.
You think you love him. You’re quite sure you did before, but when he moves his mouth lower, biting your jaw and licking your neck as his thumb gets lost under your panties, you’re certain that no man could ever own you in the way he does. Handling your body with the most utter softness, as if dealing with a piece of Heaven. His thumb dances between your legs, stopping just on your clit, and Leon starts circling it, again, and again, and again…
“Oh, shit,” you moan, your heartbeat racing. You can barely keep your eyes open, overwhelmed by his devotion. His touch is desperate, even more heightened by how much he licks your neck, kisses it.
“Doll, look at me,” his words are heavy and clingy.
“Ye—Yeah?” you feel so utterly broken already. Leon moves his thumb faster, the circles making you moan once more.
“Want to use my mouth, can I? Please?”
By now you don’t know what he means, but you immediately nod. Like you’d do during missions, when you would simply take a leap of faith, you let yourself jump with him, letting him guide you to wherever he deems more appropriate.
You already trust him with your life. What difference could this make?
“God… so gorgeous,” he beckons, more to himself than to you, smiling. He quickly moves your t-shirt and bra out of the way, before diving his mouth to your breasts. There, he licks, and kisses, tongue painting your nipples with his saliva, as if blessing your body with his sin, letting you shower in his desire.
“Fuck, Leon…”
He continues moving his thumb gently, and you’re about to moan when you feel his middle and ring finger dancing on your lips, toying with your entrance. “Shit” more of a complaint, your tone raspy. His thumb presses harder against your clit as the other couple of fingers keep the sweet motions, never diving inside you. The thought of him probably getting his fingers messed up with your blood crosses your mind, but then Leon bites your nipple, before lovingly pulling it between his teeth. His thumb is now moving faster, circles rougher on your most sensitive spot, as the other fingers keep teasing your opening.
Your moans are the loudest symphony filling up the room, mixed in with the way he whines, mouth obsessed with your breasts. You curl your back, your hips getting hazy and desperate as Leon increases the speed of his movements.
You wished you knew which good deed you committed in another life to be blessed in this way now. As careful as possible, you grab onto him, as your hips are now dancing against his thumb, chasing after his touch. You’re half-breathless by now. You scratch his back, his arms, sink your nails into his nape as he bites the other nipple, sucking it harshly.
“Gonna come, God….” you whine out, thighs trembling under him.
“Good… Please, come for me,” his tone is the farthest thing from a command, but it seems to drive you exactly there. The way he desires you, desires this so fucking intensely… The heat in your stomach sweeps away with everything as he licks around your nipple and his finger toys with your clit once more. You melt under his touch, coming obscenely loud for him.
And the worst thing is that he continues, his mouth hungry still, his fingers circling, rubbing up and down your abused flesh, until you cough under him, unable to whimper anymore.
“It’s… Need a pause,” you let out, barely able to utter words yet.
It feels like coming back to the surface, you think. Leon breathes loudly, panting. He kisses each boob once more, tenderly, resembling a “goodbye”. You look at his motions with half-lidded eyes, and you’re unable to move your gaze away when he detaches from your body, his hand re-emerging from your cunt with traces of your dried blood on his skin. You gasp but Leon barely notices it, rubbing the maroon strokes against his tactical pants swiftly, without any complaint, as if simply getting rid of paint after handling a canvas.
He doesn’t fucking care. A man used to dealing with death, and grim and pain. It’s not the first time that he’s felt the warmth of your blood, as he has patched you up after the most gruesome missions, as he has held your bloody hand after you cut it with a sharp glass at home. He doesn’t fucking care, but rather he feels relieved, the comfortable knowledge that, this time, the blood has nothing to do with you being hurt. This time your blood doesn’t feel like knives digging into his skin, him boiling with concern. It’s just a warm reminder that you’re safe, and alive, and that he is finally touching you in the place where’s imagined himself drowned with you a hundred times already.
This is real. Leon is not dreaming, not this time.
You breathe out, calmer, his gaze feeling like returning home.
You’re still catching your breath when he leans closer, kissing your forehead.
“You okay?” he mumbles out, concern in his tone.
“More than okay,” you smirk.
Leon chuckles, amused. He lets his body fall on top of yours, still in between your legs, and he searches for your hand: takes it in his, the thumb that so much pleasure had brought you now caressing your palm.
“Babe…” his voice is sultry, and as he moves your thighs open with his own, you immediately notice the hardness pressing against your leg. Still, the contact seems too much for him, and he whimpers against your neck, his actions devoid of any shame.
“Damn, Kennedy, again?” you tease under him, cheeky stare defying him as he looks at you.
“Mhmh,” he replies. “I understand if you don’t want me inside, but…”
You cut him off with a wheeze. “Fucking subtle you are.”
“Hey, you want me to be fucking explicit?”
“Sure, let’s hear it, big guy,” you hold his hand tighter, as if prompting him to attempt anything, but immediately his cheeks go a few shades pinker. “Ow, getting shy on me?”
“You’re being fucking cocky for someone who just had an orgasm. Maybe I should give you another one to see if you calm down,” he lets out, eyes deeply boring into yours.
“Is that the special treatment you give to the ladies you sleep with, huh?”
“No, just you,” he replies, gallant.
You can’t say you don’t want it. Leon kisses you again, his tongue licking your lips and you moan for him. He squeezes your hand as his other hand goes between your bodies, to his zipper. You can barely notice the belt unbuckled, the zipper falling down. He bites your lower lip and maneuvers his pelvis closer to yours.
Fuck it. He just wants you. Whatever the duration of that miracle is, he wants to enjoy it, to pleasure you again, to be as close as the moment allows it. Even if this was the last time in his life he has you, he would commit this sight —of you under him— to memory.
He loves you: wants to get you drunk on him, on his body. A silent conjuring, a way to win you over. Because God knows you have him wrapped around your finger, red string of yours choking him as he devours that notion, of being owned. A fucking dog on a leash, and even if that was just a mere strained rope, he’d paint it red with your blood, force all heavens and hells to make you two work, intertwined by the same unbreakable bond.
The cabin feels suffocating. Leon kisses your neck, murmurs praises against your skin. It is overwhelming, and gentle, and so much and he hasn’t even started yet. Sighing next to your cheek, he grabs your thigh, pulling your pants even lower, adjusting his covered boner just against your cunt, and your breath hitches in your throat.
“Oh, God,” you let out, squeezing his hand even harder, since he hasn’t let go of you. It is an anchor as you experience this, as the cold breeze that enters the room kisses your nipples.
“You’re still with me? I can go gentle. Just want us to feel good, won’t ask for anything more,” he asks, moving his hips slowly against you, contact electrifying even if you’re both still wearing your underwear. You nod, eagerly, and he sinks his body closer once more. You grip onto his shoulders bringing him even closer as his hips slowly dance against you.
By now, all concerns, all fears are simply gone. In the humble little moment that you’re both sharing, there is no place for anything else apart from the devotion you hold for each other. Leon kisses you, needy, as his member rubs against your clothed clit, and his mouth seems to replicate his needs, with how delirious his tongue makes you feel.
“Fuck, Leon,” you mewl, mouths parting just to breathe once more. He smirks, his eager mouth kissing your jaw, your neck.
“You don’t know how long I have waited for… for this. For you,” and the way he says it gives you goosebumps that have nothing to do with the cold air that enters the cabin.
“Leon…” you pull him closer, as close as he can be. His body is practically on top of yours, his member rubbing faster against you.
“Mine,” he asserts, remarking his words with another squeeze of his hand. The other one grabs your thigh, opens your legs more so he can lock himself even closer, grinding harder.
The air makes him dizzy, the sight of your willing body under him gets his heart wild. Fucking hell, he has already came in his pants once, is he gonna do it once more just from humping your cunt? Leon whines, the feel of your hard nipples against his t-shirt making him lose his mind. And when you touch his back again, just like earlier, he moans.
He doesn’t care what happens to this mission, doesn’t care what happens to the rest of the evils of this world as long as he can see your precious face like this, as much as he desires it. This thought pushes him forward, and he starts to move his hips faster.
“God, god, oh, shit, Le…” you whine out, his motions rough as he chases his own pleasure too. But it feels so good, even if it hurts a little, even if your soaked panties do nothing to protect your decency by now, even if period droplets are probably leaking out of your panties.
You don’t want it to ever stop. Desperate, you let your hand go from his grip and hold him against your body with abandon, fingers directly against his skin, keeping him there. Leon growls at this, understand your needs and humps you faster, biting your neck, half-breathless.
It’s such a stark contrast to the way you two always treat each other, both on the field and on your day to day. It as if now that the veil is gone, that everything has fucking snapped, there was a certain aggressiveness that needed to be let out, that was always under the surface, ramping up, eager to crawl out of you. But it’s also full of passion, as his teeth never mark you too much, and your nails don’t draw blood from his skin.
Maybe you two needed this: a love that was a little broken, a little violent. A tender purging of your sins.
A connection born out of loyalty, out of blood.
You moan loudly when his movements get messy, rhythm getting distracted.
“Please, hold it in for me?” you beg, unable to ignore the signals of his desire. “Just a little bit” you add, knowing that you just need his rough touch for a moment longer, your body still craving his magic.
Leon nods, panting.
“I’m gonna—gonna come soon,” he warns you, trying to not let his cock ruin the path of euphoria he wants you to walk.
“It’s okay, me too, Le.”
“…Fuck,” he whimpers, and you pull his hair once more, your legs hugging his hips.
His thoughts are all mush thanks to you, but he can still hear how the sweetest moans escape your mouth, so he keeps going. Too sensitive, too hard, underwear soaked, but he continues for you. At some point his member rubs against your clit, harshly, and it is too much for you.
You kiss him, moaning into his mouth as you come, panties gushing out your juices and even some more specks of blood. Your whole body spasming, unable to keep quiet.
God. His pretty angel, his pretty girl, the most deserving of eternal springs and of the most devoted love. Leon has always felt you owned him. Not trapped, but rather at peace with you. Fuck, he is certain now. You carry a fucking leash, tied around his neck and he has no choice but to follow you, stay beside you. Both a shadow and a lover, stupid smitten dog but he wants to guard you forever.
He has wanted to hung up the Moon for you since the moment he met you, so when he finally sees your blissed-out expression, the moonlight caressing your face, he feel like he deserves it.
Not just this. But you.
His cock is leaking precum, it aches, needs to let go. He pushes harder, knows that he can, because you let him, because you scratch his back and search for his mouth as he grinds harshly against you.
He comes. Hard, pouring his seed onto his boxers.
It’s as if he could die now.
Both of you sigh, slowly. Leon kisses the bitemarks on your neck, you press the pads of your fingers gently against all the scratches on his back. For a little moment, the world doesn’t breathe. Just lets the two lovers that have finally found each other revere in this contained breath.
All that needed to be said, to be done, to be pinched and purged and snapped, it’s finally out.
You caress Leon’s jaw, look at him through sleepy eyes.
“I think… Think mission partners don’t do that,” you say, voice raspy but a smile etched on your face.
Leon smiles as well, his heart overjoyed.
“Nope, they definitely don’t,” he replies, his eyes never leaving yours.
You chuckle.
“You’re okay?” You ask him, cupping his cheek and Leon closes his eyes, sighs.
“I should be asking you that, baby.”
You now have the decency to blush at the pet name. And when he opens his eyes, and kisses your palm, you feel like your chest could explode from holding so much light inside of it. Oh, he could call you anything and you’d just let him. He owns you. You’re pretty sure he does, that he painted his name with your blood on your cunt, a bloody and tender signature, marking you as his artwork, ruining you with his cum for anyone else.
“Is that pet name gonna stay?”
“Do you have any other ideas?” He asks, moving to stand up, but you giggle and pull him closer to you, your legs still holding him down. Leon wheezes.
“We can discuss pet names and the such after… a date. ‘Cos you owe me a date, Kennedy.”
“Oh, we’re really back to last names, now? Dang it,” he lets out, and you can only laugh.
He is a fucking dork. Always will be. Maybe what will be different from now onwards is that he will be yours.
That night you fall asleep in each other’s arms. Your underwear has been irreparably stained, his boxers as well, the zipper of his tactical pants does not zip up anymore. A constellation of lovebites, scratches and the remains of your period. All bloody and needy and most delicately violent.
Too rough. Too honeyed to survive you both.
Leon hugs you tightly in his arms, comfortably cuddling as if it isn’t the first time.
Maybe your bodies dreamed so much of this day that they both instinctively know how to position arms, how to tangle into each other as to breathe the other in.
Maybe no string was snapped tonight, but rather, you pulled it so much, that it sank deeper into your veins and just pulled you two impossibly closer.
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If you've made it to the end, cookies for you! Also, may write more for this two, I liked the dynamic a lot. (I love soft dorky Leon, can you tell?)
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queer-alienbean · 2 months
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tellmegoodbye · 24 days
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In honor of me returning from my social media grave and finally finishing this fic, here is one final snippet!!!
Yes I know I literally just got back but I'm excited, okay. Push coda is officially no longer elusive. She is ALIVE.
"I love you, TK,” Carlos gasps. “I love you so much." The thought of TK not knowing that is still a pain weighing on his heart. He wants to ask him so many questions about the past few months, if they had been as hard for him as they had been for Carlos. He'll eventually want TK to tell him everything so that he can hug him and kiss him and swear that he'll never allow them to fall apart like that ever again. They both spent so long feeling alone and broken beyond repair, but they'll never have to be alone again. It’s a promise spoken through presses of their lips, gentle kisses that say I love you and I’m never letting you go. TK echoes him with tears in his eyes. Quiet words whispered against his lips because neither of them can force themselves to part again. "I love you too."
I've been gone for too long to be comfortable tagging loads of people since I don't know who still does these, but I still wanted to jump right back in and say hi since I still feel a little guilty for taking so long.
Tagging: @strandnreyes @welcometololaland @thisbuildinghasfeelings @carlos-tk
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natandwandaseries · 2 years
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Yelena would send this in the team group chat:
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(I did not make this meme, full credit to whoever did)
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Ough
Chronic joint pain (thanks show choir, thanks cold weather)
Anyway, fic idea that's been rattling around in my head that I hope to get done before/by Christmas:
Mike comes home to you and Abby baking cookies, the kitchen is a total wreck (that you promise to clean up)
And he can't be mad at you, he can never be mad at you. Especially when you imply that you view them as your family since you're distant with your own.
"It's- it was a family tradition on my mom's side, baking cookies, but well... We're not exactly on good terms anymore."
"So you decided to ruin my kitchen?" He teased, leaning against the doorway.
You flushed, from both his tone and the dawning realization that there was definitely a deeper meaning behind your cookies that you hadn't realized before. "I'll clean it up. I just- Why let them ruin a fun, family tradition, y'know?" You ignored the slight tremor in your voice, kneading sugar cookie dough to get your attention off of Mike.
Sadly, looking away meant you missed how his face flushed slightly, earning a mischievous grin from Abby, who'd been standing next to you as your helper.
You are NOT allowed to use this for your own writing, I just feel bad for basically dropping off the face of the Earth recently.
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