cursedcatvibes

[cursedcatvibes]

PU$$Y GOT MORE M⛧RDERS THAN SHIBUYA.ᐟ 𝐌⛧𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑#𝟐 — 𝐎𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐮!𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

⛧ 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: nov 2nd, 1:17pm ⛧ 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞: cosplaying + dubcon + public sex + exhbitionsim + creampie + squirting + dirty talk + humiliation + bimbo!reader + pet names (bunny) ⛧ 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬: 5079

𝐚/𝐧: eta—tysm @yung-notorious for the beta!

𝐧𝐧𝐧 𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐮!𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Bunny, hurry! Over here! We’re up next!”

Stepping out from behind the makeshift curtain. Gojo spots you immediately, his grin widening as he waves you over. Excitement is practically radiating off him while nervousness is rolling off of you. Your heart thumps in your ears over the prospect of going on stage in front of hundreds of people in a cosplay of all things.

This wasn’t just your first time cosplaying—it was your first anime convention ever! 

Toru had convinced you not only to come along but to join him in a couples cosplay contest. Under normal circumstances you would have refused but it was the only way he’d hold up his end of the deal of participating in the dreaded 'No Nut November.'

The cosplay couple Gojo chose for you both was Loid and Yor Forger from Spy Family, wanting to start you out with something easy for your first time. Yet getting into Yor’s black sleek assassin dress was anything but easy as Gojo spares no expense on realism even having the dress corsetted. 

Gojo as Loid is decked out in Loid's classic light green three-piece suit and blonde lace front wig. His piercing natural baby blues lend to Loid well and he is everybit of charming and statuesque as the actual character.

Well, as long as the lil’ freak didn’t open his mouth. 

“Can I at least get a good luck kiss since you didn’t want to give me a good luck BJ earlier?”

Gojo whispers, wiggling his brows with a goofy smirk as he interrupts your worried thoughts. You sigh at your boyfriend being nothing more than a hopeless perv at all times, but ultimately you give him a quick peck on the cheek without much fuss. The butterflies raving in your stomach are making you more agreeable at the moment.

“Come on Bunny, I know it's ‘No Nut November’ but you don’t gotta be so stingy with the kisses, a tiny bit of that cute ecchi tongue of yours in my mouth would be enough.”

Gojo pretends to pout and you roll your eyes. He’s definitely cum just from you kissing him too nasty before. In fact, he was practically guaranteed to blow every time you sucked on his tongue the tiniest bit. Thankfully, all that puts a limit on the amount of kissing and PDA he could do with you in public.

“Don’t push it, digidork!”

Saving you from further harassment over kisses, the announcer dressed up as a cute blue haired girl, that Gojo identifies as Hatsune Miku, tells you it’s your turn. 

Initially you’re terrified to step on stage, but as you both stride onto the runway, you realize that a cosplay contest isn’t all that different from the few modeling gigs you’ve done—just with a much, much nerdier vibe. 

And honestly, you have to admit, it’s way more fun! 

Unlike the stiff, subdued atmosphere of fashion shows, this audience of fans and otaku is anything but reserved. Their cheers, hoots, and applause fill the air, electrifying the room. The energy peaks as you and Gojo flawlessly nail the intricate poses he’d made you practice. With the amount of effort Gojo had put in, people no doubt mistake you both for pro cosplayers and you quickly start to eat it all up.

Pleased with how quickly you adapt, Gojo is so overjoyed that he decides to up the ante with an impromptu pose. Grabbing your hand, he twirls you effortlessly, spinning you into a graceful dip. This brings one of your thighs to rest against his hip, causing your already snug dress to ride up even higher.

The crowd erupts in cheers at the sight—the flash of extra skin, combined with what looks like Loid!Gojo leaning in for a kiss, delivers exactly the kind of fanservice they are craving.

What actually secures your win though is the moment you, in a panicked fluster, smack the absolute dogshit out of Loid!Gojo. The force of it made him drop you as he staggered back.

Upon realization of what you'd done you were mortified—god, would you be disqualified now? Or kicked out of the convention all together? 

Your reflexive aversion to what you thought was Toru’s perverted over-the-top PDA in front of so many people happened so fast you didn’t have a chance to stop yourself. But your horror quickly turned to bewilderment as the crowd, initially silenced by the sharp echo of the slap reverberating through the hall, instantly erupted into a frenzy of cheers and laughter.

Only having seen a few episodes, you had zero clue of the bashful dynamics between the two when Yor perceives any type of affection from Loid and practically beats his ass because of it. 

To you, it was pure, unintentional chaos—to the crowd, it was coordinated perfection.

Winning first place, by a unanimous decision, was no surprise to anyone. You had to admit even with the unexpected hiccup that cosplaying was actually really fun!

After the awards ceremony, you and Gojo still linger in the main stage area before another panel starts, snapping pictures with fellow cosplayers and con-goers. You really hadn’t expected to enjoy cosplaying so much but the sheer energy and attention you get from it is downright addictive!

Before you know it, you’re fully leaning into the spotlight—posing dramatically and soaking up the admiration like you’re the one whose the otaku nerd in the relationship.

Of course Gojo was into it as well as he posed with fangirls who all gush over him being 'the most perfect Loid ever!' Gojo smiles as he'd worked hard to make today the perfect con "date" and winning was just the start! He wanted to set the stage to get you to do this again with him in the future.

Yet after the crowd around him disperses and the event area begins to clear out, he finds you aren't where he last saw you. It takes some looking around for him to realize you are actually right where he left you, just surrounded in sizeable horde of sweaty nerd otaku.

Eagerly hanging onto your every word they snap endless pictures. Even candid ones when you weren’t posing.

Gojo’s bottom lip juts out in an exaggerated pout as he watches from a distance, having resigned himself to the sidelines. While he is a bit sour at how captivated they are by you, a new thrill—the thrill of being cucked having all of these otaku captivated by and stealing your attention takes over.

It's twisted he knows, but as much jealousy as Gojo wants to feel watching the swarm of loser otaku crowd around you—he's getting more turned on by watching them drool over you.

Not to mention Gojo absolutely adores seeing you actually enjoy one of his hobbies and being able to experience it with you. The fanboys were just apart of it, he'd knew you'd be popular anyway—you were already the hottest girl on earth to him!

Yet as time goes on and the crowd only grows bigger Gojo notices he hadn't accounted for how these shy and awkward otaku, now in their natural habitat, would swarm you so aggressively like an infestation of pesky roaches. 

What had started as a small, thrilling twinge of being cucked a little had grown into something far more frustrating when 15 minutes turns into 45.

The longer they monopolize you, the more they keep you from being able to enjoy the con with him—and you still had to hit up artist alley and the studio booths!

Real jealousy starts to simmer within Gojo as he watches them bombard you with endless questions.

“D-Do, you have a cosplay name?!” 

One of the otaku asks you.

“Um, no, people just call me Bunny I guess.”

You shrug with a small giggle that has the otaku swooning harder and Gojo clenching his teeth.

“Kawaii Bunny-hime~!”

“Cosplay Queen Bunny~!”

“Anime Goddess Bunny~!”

“C-Can I-I follow you on IG, B-Bunny-hime?”

You were only a few dozen a way from 7k followers on IG, you could use these simps for some extra engagement. They looked like the type you could ignore and they'd still like everything.

“Sure, I suppose…”

The crowd of otaku cheer as Gojo sneers—you were giving out your IG?!!?  You only just started letting him tag you in his posts!

“Oh thank you, our favorite pro-cosplayer, Bunny-chan!”

HAH!? You were only doing this because he asked you to! You were his cosplay goddess Bunny damnit!

Gojo tries to temper his envy, but all reasoning snaps once a particularly slimy round otaku stumbles forward, his pimply cheeks (that looked like it had never seen a washcloth) flushed at the request he so boldly asks you while looking straight at the ground. 

“Um, B-B-Bunny-chan…c-can, you s-step on me please, Mast—ah, er—Q-Queen?”

“Step on you!?”

The question has you incredulous before the realization of exactly how much power you had over these pathetic otaku virgins dawns on you. You weren’t sure why you thought this level of deranged simpage was Toru exclusive, your boyfriend was way hotter but unfortunately cut from the same cloth as these desperate nerds. 

You stifle a smirk, power tripping as you feign boredom like the request was a chore. Pointing towards the floor the otaku instantly drops to his knees. Surprised at how easy that was you step forward to the pathetic otaku on the ground gazing up at you—only for Gojo to angrily snatch you away before you could even lift your foot off the ground. 

Taken by surprised, you are thoroughly gagged as he pulls you away from your group of otaku simps, leaving them in the dust to blink dumbfoundedly. 

Hauling you off to a more secluded area of the con, Gojo leads you straight into the men’s bathroom before he releases you. 

But by now you’re pissed and your wrist aches a bit from him dragging you across the convention.

What was that all about!?

However, just as you’re about to give Toru a piece of your mind, he suddenly whirls around. The sight stops you cold—his face flushed bright pink, his puppy-dog eyes shimmering with unshed tears teetering on the edge of spilling down his puffed cheeks.

Bewildered as to why he's the one upset, you decide to tread cautiously.

“Toru? Toru—tell me what’s wrong baby… "

He doesn’t answer right away, his pained whimpers are the only sound as he struggles to hold back the tears. 

"C'mon tell me what's wrong...did they sell out of that gangbang figure scene you wanted? The limited edition Bible Black one?”

"No, B-Bunny—worse than t-that..."

Worry creeps in, as you know he's been talking non-stop about wanting that figure so you couldn't imagine what could be worse than that—yet your lip curls once Gojo finally speaks and you are reminded exactly who you are dealing with.

“*sniff* Y-You were really gonna step on that guy before you even stepped on me, B-Bunny? D-Do you *sniff* not love me anymore?”

Gojo grumbles, genuinely hurt.

For real???

That’s what he’s upset about!?

“W-We haven’t even tried dominatrix play yet, Bunny! *sniffs* I-I thought I’d have to wear you down a lot more first...”

Oh for fucks sake! 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes and let out the deep breath of exasperation you are holding.

God, why does your rich hot ass boyfriend have to be such a lil' freak!?

Even though you promised to step on Gojo when you got home, maybe even add a kick in too, that wasn’t good enough for your pervert boyfriend’s fragile feelings.

And now for some reason—even as tears still pooled threateningly on his soft white lashes—he was sporting a raging boner.

Argh, why now...

Mumbling you shake your head. You had to be going insane as the situation tugs on your guilted heartstrings much to your own dismay.

“Ugh, I can’t believe I’mma do this… “

Swallowing your aversions, you knew just the thing to cheer him up.

”...The back stall Toru—now!”

The rules?

Simple.

You’d give him a pussy job for exactly 5 minutes. No touching you or feeling you up otherwise and not for a second longer.

Most importantly?

No cumming allowed. 

No breaking ‘No Nut November’ or you swore you’d never go to another con with him ever again.

As if the tears in his eyes had never existed, Gojo instantly perks up. His demeanor skyrockets at the prospect of finally getting his cock even a little wet after two and a half grueling days of abstaining from your ecchi angel pussy.

And that’s how you find yourself pressed against the wall of the very back stall, your dress bunched up around your waist and your panties dangling off your heel hooked around his hips. The other leg barely steadying your heel on the ground as his oppressively long cock glides through your slick ridden folds. The teasing drag of his length against your bare pussy, bumping clumsily over your clit makes your breath hitch as you try to not show can reaction. 

In absolute bliss, Gojo’s eyes are clenched shut, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip hard enough to leave marks as he braces his other arm against the wall behind you. Every swipe of his cock through your slick folds is deliberate. Building a steady rhythm, Gojo savors every fraction of a second he gets to spend with his cock rubbing against your core.

Clinging to the fraying edges of his control, doing his best to actually be a good boy and keep his shit together—lest you never go to another con with him again. 

Your sleek cosplay starts to develop wrinkles as it bunches not only on your hips but your hands. Twisting the fabric in your hands you attempt to resist the burning need to just tilt your pelvis up a little more while pulling his hips forward so Toru’s cock can slip inside you.

Girl, you gotta stay strong though!

“Shiiiiit, Bunbun—I-I wanna fuck your pussy s’bad baby… does my pretty lil' onnahole miss me? God, shes fuckin’ she’s soaked!”

Gojo’s body lurches forward slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly as he swallows hard, fighting off the urge to cum. He can’t risk looking down—nor let his eyes catch the way your sexy Yor cosplaying cunny is sliding along his cock. God, if he does it’ll all be over—and if he wasn’t going to fuck you for the remaining 27 days then he wanted to make this last and savor every second of grinding through your sopping heat.

“Ngh—HAH! Y-you better keep your p-promise, T-Toru!" 

Stammering, a sheen of sweat blossoms across your skin. Originally, you’d convinced Gojo to agree to NNN as a way to give your poor, overworked cunny a break from his degenerate hentai-inspired kinks. 

After all, the Halloween season of dressup and cosplay had been a never ending marathon on both you and your throughly fucked lil' pussy. But now, as his length messily drags through your pussy, memories of how good it feels to be stretched and filled by Toru flood back, leaving you questioning everything.

Did you really need a break at all?

Wasn't two days enough?

You bite your lip, barely suppressing the whimper that rises in your throat. Every swipe of his cock over your clit sends pulses of pleasure rippling through you, and you can feel every ridge, every vein throbbing against your sensitive nub. 

Gojo had trained your prissy lil cunt well, and it was maddening that an otaku like him could subdue you from how hard he’d have you crying on his cock from the very first time you fucked him.

Truthfully, these days even if your tastes weren’t on a freaked-out supreme level like his, you initiated sex just as much.

Maybe if…

No! 

You had to hold strong!

If you made an exception now there’s no way he’d continue on with it the rest of the month and you couldn’t let him think you’d actually missed all his crazed otaku sex fantasies.

God you needed this to be over—how much time is left again!?

Grabbing your phone out of your boobs, you sigh in relief. 

You just need to hold on for 30 more seconds…

Now 20 seconds… 

Just 10 more seconds….

“Okay, Toru time’s u—”

Out of nowhere, the bathroom door bursts open, and a loud group of flood in, their chatter echoing off the tiled walls.

Sheer panic races through you. Eyes wide as saucers, you hurriedly clutch at Gojo, hoisting your other leg up to wrap around his hips in a desperate attempt to hide your heeled feet from view beneath the stall. The sudden movement causes him choke on his own spit as the timing—perfectly aligned with a deep, measured thrust—causes him to ram his engorged cock fully into your core.

Gojo tries to keep his voice from cracking as he bottoms out inside your moist sticky cunt, the head of his cock pressing firmly against your cervix.

Trembling, the fear of the moment overwhelms you and in response you tense around his cock tighter. You cover your mouth, muffling the soft whimpers that escape from him entering you so suddenly. 

“Heh, ya gotta ease up, my tight lil' hentai Bunny—” 

Gojo coos his perverted words into your hair muffling his whines. Although you can tell from the myrth etched into his voice hes enjoying every second of this. “—y-ya know what your pretty pussy does to me—I’ll bust if she keeps squeezing me like that.” You wanna scream and slap him for jamming his dummy long cock into you so suddenly but you know given the circumstances you have to keep it together for both your sakes—but mostly yours. You’d die before you were exposed fucking your nerd ass otaku boyfriend in a public stall at an anime convention of all places. 

Completely unsympathetic to your internal plight, Gojo’s lips curl into a sly smirk against your temple. Breathing hot taunting whispers against your skin, Gojo is relishing in the feeling of your pussy telling him how much she's missed him inside her—and God, he missed her so, so much too!

“Heh—my little pervy bunny’s pussy is begging me for my cum. I-I dun' think she cares about 'NNN' no more baby...”

You pull back just enough to glare at him, tears streaking your cheeks as you try to hold it together—his cock feels so amazing though~~ 

The amount of turned on you are righ now is obvious as your slippery arousal seeps down his cock, past his balls, to darken the fabric of his cosplay suit pants.

Gojo’s large hands dig into the soft flesh of your ass, his grip firm as he begins lifting you slowly, up and down, on his cock. Promises be damned, he can only think of how phenomenal your pussy feels leaking and stretched around him… in a public bathroom… while a crowd just entered. 

Holy shit, he'd never thought he'd get to live out this of public sex fantasy! Gojo decides that besides the first day he got a taste of your sweet cunny—this was definitely the second best day of his life so far!

Each motion of Gojo's hips plows his cock deeper into your walls. Clutching tighter around his neck trying in vain to lift yourself up off of him a bit and alleviate the pressure. It’s useless. Not only does Gojo's veiny cock weaken you completely, his grip is like a steel on you.

“S-S-S-taaawp T-Toru, puhweaseee!” You grit out. The dangerous amounts of electricity in your core jolts your senses, rendering your nerves and your pussy into a lustful mush.

“I'd gotta put ya down then Bun, nghhh-shiiiiiiiit—or I won't be able to resist the squeeze of my ecchi angel creaming all on me."

You shake your head desperately.

You couldn’t possibly get down and Toru knew that! 

"Besides Bunny bae...I can tell your naughty lil' manko is about to cum—she's practically screaming it around my cock. You don't want me to stop for real, do you?"

The smug glint in Gojo’s eye tells you he’s fully aware of the effect he has on you—intentionally working you over until keeping your composure becomes utterly impossible and you give in.

Shiiit you wanted to, you were so getting fucking horny right now the need to come was becoming unbarable.

“EWW MAN, WASH YOUR HANDS!”

 An outburst erupts from one of the otaku near the urinals.

“No way! That sexy Yor cosplayer touched it. I’m gonna fap with it later.” 

The unsanitary otaku chimes in, smugly like he’d won a prize. 

No, no, no, no please, no!

“Fair point.” 

A third agrees, earning a collective murmur from the rest who all express the wish to feel your delicate lil hands around their cock. Your entire body freezes as you realize these are the same otaku from earlier.

Unfortunately, the group doesn’t stop their vulgar simpage of you there launching into a full-blown discussion about your assets and debating on your exact measurements. Your face burns hotter than the building friction Gojo is creating between your thighs. The salacious words of praise for you is renewing his envy.

“She was so hot, dude—she almost stepped on you too!”

Gojo’s soft snickers morph into something darker, more sinister at the reminder. Goosebumps spread across your body as presses you into the wall to prod deeper into your guts.

“Yeah, too bad you got foot-blocked by that Loid!”

“Total chad move!"

Those otaku incel calling Gojo a "chad" was laughable and you might have giggled if not for Gojo’s hand sliding up your back to tug loose the strings of your corset, making your tits spill over.

His eyes narrow like a vengeful deity as he bends forward to take one of your perky nipples into his hot mouth.

“Think that’s her boyfriend?”

“What? No way, man! She’s way too good for a loser-chad like him!”

Goddamnit, those nerds are talking your pussy into some major problems. 

Your teeth dig into your plump lips as you fight not to make a sound, but the way he moves so obsessively inside you makes it a losing battle as the soft whispers of mewls fumble from your lips.

The sheer force of him drilling you into the wall like a corkscrew sends your sanity spiraling as your pussy drools and squeezes around him.

“Yeah, no way—that dude’s probably just paid her to be here. Heh—wonder what she'd do if I paid her..."

Through your tear clouded vision you could see Gojo's neck redding—he was pissed. Clearly that remark hitting too close to home since he initially did pretty much agree to be your sugar daddy so you'd fuck him. Plus he'd probably dropped at least 10 stacks on you daily—but that's besides the point.

As if you would ever fuck one of those losers even if they offered you a billion dollars!

Urgh, aware of how bad it sounded in your head, you admit to yourself you only had the hots for one creepy otaku loser—and that was Gojo.

He should know that by now though.

“Wait—is someone back there?!”

Oh god no! 

The moist, juicy sound of your cunt sloshing around his cock loud is echoing off the tile walls of the bathroom. The sounds of your flesh slapping together clearly audible as Gojo intentionally stops holding back, groaning his mouth still full of your tits. You had to so something to distract him though, so he wouldn’t do something absolutely reckless like getting y’all kicked out and banned for fucking in a stall or worse—having these weirdo incels start filming.

Bringing all of Toru's focus to you again and snatching him off your tiddies, you you craddle his face in your hands. Sensually you trail your tongue over his lips before nibbling your way down his jaw to his neck. Ever so sweet and coy, you sweetly moan out the vile words that felt like the grosses poison on your tongue. Saying them out of utter necessity to keep his focus on you, as well as small amount of dignity you had left in this situation.

“Haah m'so guuudd! F-fuck me harder Toru, m’hentai daddy! This tiny hime pussy missed your big oni cock splitting her open. N’dun wanna go—n’can’t go without it again for so long, baby. Love you s’much—pweasee cum in me.”

Hips stuttering, Gojo nearly drops you for the second time that day as you finish your outrageously lewd proclamation by kissing his lips passionately. His slutty mouth, previously eager to blow up your entire spot just to prove a point to some irrelevant incel dorks is silenced as you suck on his tongue.

Gojo's rage, already eroded by your filthy words, dissolves entirely as his climax tears through him triggered by your honey like tongue. The immense pressure builds to a breaking point, and his cum floods your womb in thick, pulsing waves. His cock thrashes inside you, painting your walls, pussy, thighs, and even the crotch of his pants white with the sheer volume of cum he’s saved up in just two and a half days.

A guttural moan rips from Gojo’s throat.

A sound so raw, so painfully pleasurable, it reverberates against your chest like a desperate confession of just how much he fucking loved you while his thumb finds your swollen clit, tormenting it with merciless circles. He’s determined to wring every ounce of pleasure from your trembling body, driving you towards ecstasy as he builds up another load of his own—still hard inside you.

The stall shakes violently, Gojo’s lean, muscular thighs trembling as the wet, sticky slap of his balls against your ass grows impossibly louder with each thrust. The sound is salaciously obscene—like stirring a pot of creamy mac and cheese—but, predictably, the group of clueless, bitchless otaku outside misinterpret the situation entirely.

“Uh Hey! You okay back there, buddy?” 

Another calls out, concerned after a particularly drawn-out pitchy keen from Gojo that sounded like he was dying. 

“HNNNNG—Y-Yeahhh n-nah, m’fine—FUHH!”

His voice is raggedly straining between his mind piercing thrusts he’s delivering your womb.

“Jus—hngh—a little backed up, y’know? Been a few days since I’ve been able t’let it all out... 'bout leggo a big one n’ a few more pushes another s’gonna come out—FUHHHCK!”

There’s a collective moment of silence in the bathroom.

You're shocked that Toru is actually doing a half-decent job of covering this up even if he was making himself sound absolutely fucking disgusting in the process—thankfully though the group of otaku think so too.

“Ew nasty, man!” “Dude, go see a doctor!” “Bruh, that’s unholy!”

The door slams shut as they scurry out, their revulsion growing more distant.

“Fuckin’ finally—SHIIIIT!” 

Gojo cries out, finally letting go like he’s been desperate to, his grin widening as he grips your hips and slams you down hard one last time. Your vision blurs, white washing over your vision as your body convulses. The waves of pleasure crash through you with an intensity that steals your breath.

Gojo shudders a final time, his loud moans spilling into the air as he releases himself into your overflowing pussy once more. The sheer heat and volume of his release leaves you gasping, his viscous fluids spilling from you in thick, sticky waves. It feels as though he’s been saving this up for weeks—more than you’d ever seen, even the first time he came when you popped his cherry.

Still breathing heavily, he carefully eases you down onto the floor, mindful of his trembling legs. His body presses against yours, holding you upright as he pins you to the wall, your legs too weak to support you after he’d torn you apart like a madman.

The minutes tick by, your bodies still entwined as you both are left wrecked in the wake of the risky bathroom sex you just had However, Gojo, miraculously, seems to recover much faster.

You watch as he pulls out his phone, crouching down and angling it toward you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Wh-what are you doing now T-Toru?”

Gojo smiles at you lovingly, pulling your leg up to rest on his shoulder as he spreads your swollen pussy lips apart, studying how utterly wrecked she looks. Even under the harsh fluorescent lights, your pussy glistening, swollen and completely coated in his cum is one of the prettiest sights in the world (and he has seen all 7 wonders).

“Why, commemorating this moment, my sweet hentai goddess divine!”

You groan, too drained to swat him away, your limbs limp and unresponsive.

You're just glad it's all over... but now you wanted to leave this godforsaken bathroom and con—ASAP! Maxing yourself to the absolute limit for otakus and nerd shit completely for the day, you want to just go home!

Your 'No Nut November' was thoroughly ruined, and you couldn’t even blame him—you’d been just as guilty letting all the cosplay attention go to your head. Yet you paid for it alright, pussy bruised and sore, but thoroughly sated in a way you hadn’t realized you needed until now. Switching to video mode Gojo, leans back on his heels humming the digimon theme song—something he often did after sex and other times he was particularly content with life.

“Ya know how sexy I think you look as Yor Bunny, but I think the prize for the hottest cosplay goes to your ecchi pussy for how well she cosplays a creampie all plugged full with my cum.”

You roll your eyes, your otaku boyfriend was truly incorrigible. 

“Oooh! Bunny, Bunny! We should do this cosplay again next year, pleasepleaseplease!?” "Fine... I guess that would be—"

“—ah, amazing!”

Gojo interrupts you with a dirty grin forming on his lips as he cheeses. 

“Ya know baby bun, I was thinkin'—If you stop taking your birth control now, we could have little Anya with us by next year. Whaddya—?”

But before he can finish, your heeled foot lashes out, connecting solidly with his side of his face and sending him sprawling onto the bathroom floor as he knocks up against the other side of the stall. 

Gojo's laughter only grows louder as gazes up at you with hearts in his eyes. Ecstatic you for finally kicked him, you see his dick hardening once more.

“Do it again, pleasepleaseplease!”

You roll your eyes.

This is exactly why you wanted a 'No Nut November' in the first place.

blkkizzat ©2023-2024 no ai, reposting, plagiarism or translation allowed.

𝐚/𝐧: next 12/13, 6:00 a.m. PST queued toji fushiguro tell me how u liked this, hopefully can hold over the otaku!gojo girlies for a while! reblogs and comments make me cream!

[cursedcatvibes]

His Eyes All Over Me

sylus x fem!reader

summary: ever since experiencing sylus' frenzy, you find yourself feeling strange. it all comes to a head after your movie date.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, fluff, kissing, vaginal fingering, oral sex, blow job, p in v, knotting, scent kink, praise kink, breeding kink, aftercare, brief switch!sylus

w/c: 6.1k

a/n: guys idk what happened all of a sudden i was possessed and the breeding kink just appeared <3

also on ao3!

I know exactly what it means, which is why I’m accepting this.

Sylus’ cryptic words leave you confused as the movie ends. It wasn’t even meant to mean anything in particular, although perhaps that was just you convincing yourself that you were in total control of this situation. You were giving the feather to him as a kind gesture, nothing more. 

… Fuck, had he seen it as more? 

A dull throb spreads out from across your temples, your fingers itching to pull out your phone and simply search up whatever it is he meant.

Why did feelings have to be so complicated? 

You bite back a groan, slumping back in the car seat, an irritated look passing over your face.

“Something wrong?” Sylus’ smooth voice cuts through the silence, his eyes glancing towards you as he drives.

“No,” you manage out, trying to stop your voice from dipping into a grumble. You sneak a glance at his face, only to find your gaze dipping to observe the way his long fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, the muscles in his forearms flexing with every move after he’d rolled up his jacket sleeves.

Ever since you’d managed to stop him from descending into a Praedator’s Frenzy, you’d found yourself suffering from a strange affliction. Yes, you had been terrified when you were trapped in that large birdcage with him, panic racing through your body as you tried to stop his sanity from unravelling any further and yet… you’d been embarrassingly aroused.

The way his teeth had sunk into your earlobe, his fangs scraping and vicious against the delicate skin of your neck. You had liked it in some sick sense. The heat that pooled between your thighs was because of Sylus, his feral nature and tight grip on your hips had made your mind swirl, his low, rasping voice, the slight rut of his hips into your ass- 

You needed a cold shower. One with actual ice, preferably.

The car rumbles to a stop, and you get out agitatedly, cursing under your breath when you realize Sylus was following you in, up to your apartment. It isn’t hard for you to notice that Sylus has taken note of your change in behavior, his hands shoving into his pockets as he stares at you.

“Something is wrong,” Sylus muses, tilting his head in a searching manner. “What? You didn’t enjoy the movie?”

“It was fine,” you reply shortly, playing with your fingers. “I think I’m coming down with something.” A blatant lie to a man who probably knew you better than you knew yourself. You clear your throat, coughing a little exaggeratedly. “A cold.”

“A cold,” he echoes, dipping his head to stare down at you scrutinizingly. You yelp when he grabs at your wrist, his fingers pressing against your pulse point. Sylus’ eyes darken, his playful expression fading as his lips thin, his voice a low hiss. “Liar.”

“That’s-” you grumble, pulling your wrist free from his grasp, “that’s unfair.”

He stares down at you for a moment longer, his eyes searching. You squirm under his gaze, heart fluttering a little when he cocks his head to the side before straightening up.

“If you didn’t enjoy my company, you should’ve just said so,” Sylus drawls, shoving his hands back into his pockets.

You roll your eyes, huffing out a breath as you step out the elevator. “I wasn’t lying because I didn’t enjoy your company.”

Your current predicament was actually because of the contrary; you were finding that you were enjoying his company a little too much. You kick your shoes off when you get inside, hearing the soft lock of the door as Sylus closes it behind him. 

When he stares at you blankly, you shoot him an unimpressed look, gesturing towards your couch. “Make yourself at home, Sylus.”

“I don’t remember my former roommate being so… cruel,” he sighs, sounding aggrieved. “Especially after rewarding me with such a heartfelt gift.” Sylus grins devilishly, his lips curving upwards, eyes glinting with amusement. 

You flush, cheeks feeling hot with embarrassment.

“Whatever you think it means,” you snap, glaring at him in an attempt to hide your own flusteredness, “it doesn’t mean that. I was being nice, okay? Because I am a nice person!”

“Right,” Sylus laughs lowly. It’s a derisive sound, mocking and aggravating enough to have you bristling with anger. You watch as he moves until he’s leaning against the back of the couch, his ankles crossed over each other, arms crossed over his chest. “You were being nice.”

“I was!” you protest, body growing warmer. “You’re just being weird and- and sauve because-” 

“Because?” Sylus presses, narrowing his eyes.

“Because you have a crush on me!”

Shit, shit, shit. 

You don’t even know where the outburst came from, but your hand is slapping over your mouth as you stare at Sylus, feeling utterly mortified. You were totally projecting.

“A crush,” he echoes, clicking his tongue as he examines you.

“I- I didn’t mean that,” you blurt out, voice all pitchy and panicky. “I only meant that-”

You squeak when he reaches you in a few measured strides, his calloused fingers squishing your cheeks together until your lips pucker out like a fish. 

“No?” Sylus murmurs, raising his brows, “pray tell, Miss Enforcer, what did you mean?”

“I… I don’t know?” you offer meekly, fidgeting under his grip, desperate to be let free.

Sylus’ nose nudging against your cheek causes you to stiffen, his fingers loosening their grip on you to instead stroke across the skin of your jaw. You let out a soft noise when he cups your cheek, his hands maneuvering your head until his nose grazes across the length of your neck, his breath hot as it fans across your skin.

“And if I did?” he asks, pressing himself closer, arm dropping to wrap around your waist tightly. “Have a… crush as you say.”

“Then- then-” you struggle to form a sentence, biting your lip to muffle any more damning noises that could be used against you.

“Then?” Sylus cajoles, his voice low and lilting, nose pressing firmly into your throat as he sucks in a sharp breath, savoring your scent.

“Then that would be embarrassing!”

You shove at his chest, stumbling a bit, still hazy from his closeness and intimate ministrations. Sylus holds you in place with his gaze, his arms crossing over his chest and you swallow down an indecent sound when you see the slight flex of his biceps underneath the fabric of his jacket.

The kitchen counter grounds you, your fingers pressing against the cool marble. It feels hard to breathe, and rather you’re the embarrassing one, having lost your nerve the moment he had gotten too close.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?” Sylus asks, cocking his head to the side, his shoulders rolling lazily. 

“Notice what?” you shoot back, grasping for a glass and filling it up with water before chugging it down rapidly.

“Stop playing stupid,” he replies, his grin mirthless. “I smelt it on you the moment you stepped into that birdcage with me.”

Now he was saying you smelt bad? 

“Smelt what?” you scoff, partially offended. You turn your head, angling it down towards your shoulder, trying to sniff yourself subtly. 

Sure, maybe you were a little sweaty, but he was making you nervous! You frown at Sylus, and he rolls his eyes, his hand reaching out to grip your chin, tilting your head upwards, towards him.

“Your arousal,” Sylus rasps, his eyes pinning you in place. “Wetness, slick, whatever you wish to call it. I can smell it, Miss Enforcer.”

Your face pales, humiliation washing over your expression, stomach twisting uncomfortably with embarrassment. Whatever thoughts are currently occupying your mind fizzle away, replaced by a sense of overwhelming mortification. 

You open your mouth to respond and clamp it back shut, thinking better of it lest you embarrass yourself any further. Perhaps there was no point to having a sense of dignity, seeing as Sylus had clearly torn it to shreds. 

“The Frenzy Enhancer doesn’t only enhance a Praedator’s Frenzy,” Sylus murmurs, tugging your head back when you avert your gaze, forcing you to meet his eyes. “It heightens our senses; for the purpose of making it all the more agonizing when one is deprived of delivering a bite.”

The LCBI had neglected to include that little fact in your training. You swallow nervously when his thumb traces down your cheek, over your jaw and presses against the jumpy pulse in your throat.

“Even now,” he continues, his other hand fisting your hair to tug your head back further. You yelp at the pain that sears across your scalp, fingers scrabbling at his chest as he presses his nose to your throat and inhales again. “You’re enjoying this, Miss Enforcer.”

“I- I am not!” you protest, doing your best to sound offended and hide the traitorous heat that was currently swirling low in your stomach with every fan of his breath against your skin. “Your nerves are clearly misfiring; d- damaged probably,” you sputter, “after your Frenzy.”

Sylus laughs hoarsely, his eyes lighting up and you know your pathetic excuse hasn’t worked.

“Stop fighting this,” he says, still sounding amused, his eyes softening slightly when he sees how flustered you’ve become. “You don’t stand to gain anything from pushing me away. Haven’t I made my intentions clear?”

“It’s complicated,” you murmur, “you’re- you’re you-”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks, raising his brows.

You huff out an aggravated breath, refusing to be cornered.

“Nothing. I only reacted that way because you seemed awfully wanton in that birdcage,” you hiss heatedly, waving your hands about. “Not to mention uninhibited.” 

“I was hit with a Frenzy Enhancer,” Sylus snaps, his fists clenching. “Yes, I was uninhibited, but I was not wanton.”

Your lips purse as you consider Sylus’ response, remembering the way he had arched his back in his frenzy, the subtle buck of his hips when you’d placed your hand on his pec. Not to mention the groaning and well… whimpering. The feeling of his teeth on your ear hadn’t exactly helped in the moment either. 

There’s an itch in you to get the last word in.

“You were wanton,” you argue, shooting him a stubborn look.

“I could have killed you,” Sylus murmurs dangerously, reaching out to grab your hands, his fingers intertwining with yours. “Sometimes a bite isn’t enough. I could have torn you apart, limb by limb until you were all but a severed, bleeding mess on the cold floor. Would you have liked that?”

You can’t say you would’ve, remembering the Praedator attack all those years, but this Sylus and there’s a foolish part of you that hopes that he would have been able to reign in his base desires.

“I’m still in one piece,” you mumble out, “besides, I know how to handle myself.” You sneak a glance down at the way his hands are holding yours, lips pursing as you feel the warmth of skin bleeding into yours. It’s too much for your poor heart, really. “You can let go now.”

“No,” he says quietly, his voice softer as he dips his head, the tip of his nose grazing yours. “I know you want this. I want this.”

You bite your lip at the pleading tone in his voice, heart stuttering in your chest. Sylus’ voice seems to wrap around you, and you peer up at him when he presses his forehead against yours, letting out a heavy exhale.

“Are you going to make me beg, hm?” Sylus muses, a smile pulling at his lips when he sees your lips twitch. “Please?” he whispers, his voice low and soft and somehow the sweetest you’ve ever heard Sylus. “I’ll be good, Miss Enforcer. Please?”

An incoherent noise escapes you, fingers tightening into his jacket as he steps closer, his body flush against yours.

“Will you let me have you?” he whispers, nosing into your cheek. “...Or perhaps you don’t want me to ask. Maybe you want me to lose control like I did in that birdcage. Growling and snapping and feral.”

Sylus was driving you insane. Your body feels hot, mind blank as a shaky breath escapes you when he grazes his fangs against your neck, his breath hot. You can feel how sticky your panties have become, thighs pressing together to try and soothe the ache of your cunt, aware of the overwhelming emptiness of it.

“Do you deny it, sweetness?”

“No,” you concede, your voice trembling, “no, I don’t.”

He hums, nudging impossibly closer, tongue darting out to lave over the erratic pump of blood in your throat. You open your mouth, a quiet mewl leaving you as he smiles against your skin, his lips pressing a heated kiss to your sensitive skin.

“Is that so?” Sylus muses, his hands drifting down to grasp your hips. “Such a shame you’ve waited so long to confess,” he continues, his voice low and purring, “had you asked me earlier, I would have given you my cock; no questions asked.”

“You- you would have?” you ask, your voice strangled as he kisses your neck again.

You can hardly catch up with what’s happening when he spins you around in his arms, his chest flush against your back, arms wrapping around your waist tightly.

“Yes,” he soothes, his fingers wrapping around your throat to tip your head back against his chest. “So many opportunities wasted,” he sighs, clicking his tongue. “I could have had you bouncing on my cock days ago, had my tongue buried inside of you, pounded into you until you were crying, bred you on my knot-”

“K- knot?” you squeak, head snapping to meet his eyes, “I thought that was a myth.”

“Hardly a myth,” he sighs, fingers dipping lower, delving under your skirt, “Praedators have knots, sweetness; intended to-” you gasp when he presses the pads of his fingers against your damp panties, stroking gently, “intended to lock us together.” Sylus smiles against your cheek, revelling in your wetness that was soaking through. He increases the pressure of his fingers, rubbing harder. “And I fully intend to knot you, Miss Enforcer,” he whispers, lips drifting across your cheek in a fleeting kiss. “Oh, don’t look so scandalized. You’ll be begging to be bred the moment I cum inside of you.”

Begging to be bred? Cumming inside? He was going to cum inside? You were most definitely going to die tonight; although perhaps part of you was resigned to your fate, his obscene words making you greedy and leaving you wanting more. 

“Please,” you whimper, rolling your hips against his hand, grasping at his wrist to press his fingers against your clothed pussy more firmly. “I- I want that.”

Sylus lets out a hoarse grown at your whimpered confession, his fingers tugging your panties to the side.

“You’re dripping,” he hisses, fingers sliding through your puffy folds, “so, so wet, baby. Smells like you’re in heat.”

You really had to do more research on Praedators. Maybe you were in heat with how bold you had become, no longer stifling your noises, too far gone to care.

“That’s it,” Sylus rasps, rubbing your slick over your folds before sliding his fingers up to rub against your swollen clit. “Oh, it must ache,” he coos, beginning to rub tight circles against the throbbing bud, “I can feel how needy you are.”

Your head bobs up and down in rapid nods, ass pushing back into him as you rock your hips, whining when he circles your clit and squeezes your throat at the same time.

“Oh- oh fuck-” you mewl when he hunches over you a little, his breath quickening as he presses his hips into your ass like he had done a few nights ago in that birdcage. “Sylus!”

“So wet,” he mutters as though in a trance, his chin resting on your shoulder, fingers speeding up. “Shall I give you my fingers, baby, hm?”

“Y- yes,” you whine, dragging out the word into a low hiss, your nails digging into his forearm.

A sharp gasp leaves you when he eases one finger in, another following suit quickly after. It’s nothing like the feel of your own fingers, Sylus’ are longer and reach much, much deeper. You feel full already, head dropping forward as you moan raggedly, pushing at his hand to try and stuff his fingers inside of you even more.

“Greedy little slut,” he growls, his fingers crooking inside of you, “so needy and wanton, aren’t you? Pushing me away when what you really want is this - my fingers inside of you, my hand wrapped around your throat, my cock rutting into your ass.”

“I do,” you hiccup, mouth dropping open as you continue to moan, hips swaying back to meet his rutting, the everpresent press of his hard cock against you making your cunt drip with arousal. “Ah hah- I do want this.”

“Yes, you do,” he whispers raspingly. “Take what you need then, baby, take my fucking fingers.”

And you do take his fingers with soft cries and needy gasps and desperate whimpers. Sylus quickens his pace, tightening the hold he has on your throat when you try to squirm away, the lewd sounds of pussy embarrassing in the quietness of your apartment. He breathes heavily against your ear, panting as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, his hand turning slightly to add his thumb to the mix.

You arch your back against him when he rubs your clit, turning your head into the crook of his neck, mewling as you try and bounce, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers. Sylus snarls when you clench down on his fingers tightly, his face pressing into your neck, fangs digging into your skin as he leaves harsh, biting kisses. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you begin to chant, your hand sliding into his hair, fisting it and tugging as you roll your hips needily, panting raggedly. “‘m gonna ah- ‘m gonna cum, Sylus.”

“Yeah?” he rasps, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, careful to not let his fangs sink in too deep. “Cum on my fingers then, grind that wet, little pussy all over my hand and cum, baby.”

A sharp gasp leaves you, fingers clutching at his wrist when he fucks his fingers into your pussy faster, his thumb unrelenting on your swollen clit. You moan brokenly when he kisses your neck, tipping your head to the side to bare more of your neck to him. Sylus growls, his kisses trailing upwards, his lips soft behind your ear.

You cry out when he sinks his teeth into your earlobe, feeling the way his fangs bite into the delicate bone of your ear. It’s just like in the birdcage, you think dazedly. He ruts into your ass harder, and the ragged panting coming from him is enough to make you come undone. You try to steady yourself, but it’s impossible with the way your thighs tremble, head tossing back as you cum around his fingers.

“Good girl,” he breathes out when you shudder and quake in his arms, his grip tightening to prevent you from falling when your knees buckle. Sylus kisses your cheek, dragging his lips to pepper soft kisses along your jaw as you ride out the last few waves of your orgasm, his fingers still stroking over your clit gently as your cunt clenches. “Good girl, sweetness, you did so well for me.”

Chest rising and falling rapidly, you drop your head back against his chest, leaning against Sylus for support. You whine softly when he pulls his fingers free, his hands petting over your skirt as he smooths it down over your thighs.

On shaky legs, you turn, arms wrapping around his neck. He hugs you closer, his head lowering as his nose brushes against yours gently.

“Be mine.”

Your eyes flutter shut when he kisses you, deep and longing. He squeezes at your waist and your hands drift, from his shoulders to his cheeks, cupping them to bring him closer, to kiss him more desperately.

Both of you stumble into the kitchen table, Sylus’ hands landing on either side of you as he deepens the kiss. You whine when he licks at your lower lip, mouth opening obediently for him. He groans and you let your hands drift, pawing at his trousers, palming at the material to feel the hard bulge of his cock, hot and thick and throbbing faintly against your hand through the layers of fabric. 

“I want it,” you whisper against his lips, kissing him feverishly. “I want your cock, Sylus. I- I want you to-” you can hardly believe you’re about to say this, but the thought of it ignites a heat inside of you, an overwhelming need to be completely at his mercy. “I want you to breed me.” 

His crimson eyes flare, hands reaching out towards you, pulling your shirt up over your head. You make an indignant sound when he hurriedly pulls your bra off, moaning in succession when he pinches your stiffened nipples.

“I can do that,” he murmurs, pulling at your skirt and panties too, until you’re bare. “I’ll breed you, baby.”

A laugh bubbles out of you when he picks you up, arms wrapping around his neck and legs around his waist. Sylus’ steps are practised as he strides into your bedroom, tossing you onto your bed. You bounce a little, regaining your balance before crawling towards him, nuzzling into the bulge of his cock.

“‘s big, Sylus,” you whisper, watching with hazy eyes as he pulls his jacket and shirt off in a smooth motion, his defined abdomen on display. You tug at his belt and he tugs it free, pushing his trousers and boxers down to reveal his cock.

It’s thicker than you’ve seen before, the tip of it blushed angrily, pre-cum smeared across the head. Your mouth waters, inching closer to run your tongue against the length of his cock, mewling softly at the heady taste as you trace your tongue across a prominent vein on the underside.

Your brows furrow when you run your tongue along the length again, pulling back to find a swollen ridge at the base of his cock. His knot. 

“Can I touch it?” you whisper curiously, head tilting to get a closer look.

“Go ahead,” he murmurs, fingers spreading out across your scalp, scratching gently.

It’s strange, you think. A little puffier and thicker than his actual cock, darker in color too. You press your fingers against it gently and it gives just a bit under your prodding. You sneak a glance up at Sylus and he raises his brows, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“It’ll feel good inside of you,” he promises self-assuredly, “swells up when- oh fuck-”

His breath stutters when you mouth at his knot, tongue laving over the sensitive spot as you squirm, kissing his knot. You lick over the ridge again, smiling to yourself when Sylus’ thighs twitch. His hand pushes at your head subtly when you focus on his cock again, a quiet breathy sound escaping him, enough to have you perking up and your pussy clenching. You want him as needy as he had you.

“You said you’d be good,” you coo, leaning forward to brush a kiss to his hip, your head dipping again to nuzzle against his cock.

“I- nghhh-” Sylus stammers, his cheeks flushed a light pink when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and begin to suck lazily. “I- I am being good.”

You hum happily, pressing your head forward, swallowing down more of his cock.

“Fuck-” he breathes out, his hands petting at your hair, pushing down gently to make you take his cock further, until it’s stuffed down your throat and your nose is buried into the snowy hair at the base of his cock. “Feels- ah- feels so good, sweetness.”

You smile when he lets you pull off, lapping at the tip of his cock teasingly, your hand reaching up to squeeze his pec. Sylus swears, his back arching at the action, a soft whine spilling out of him.

“You like this,” you muse, dipping your head to suckle at his balls, relishing in the noises he lets out, watching his thighs tremble. You stare up at him hazily, tongue lolling out for him when he grasps his cock, his hand squeezing at his knot, his knuckles white with tension.

Your fingers pinch at his nipple greedily when he presses his cock back in and you squeal, the sound muffled around the thickness of his cock when he tugs harshly at your own nipple in retaliation. 

“Brat,” he mutters, pushing your head down further, grunting softly when you dig your nails into his thighs and swallow around his cock.

“I thought you were being good,” you whine when he tugs at your hair, dipping his head to kiss you eagerly, his tongue licking into your mouth. You pout when he pulls away, feeling betrayed by the shortness of his submission. 

“Sorry, doll,” Sylus says, petting your head and rewarding you with another kiss; this time softer and sweeter, his lips lingering. 

You let him kiss you in your dazed state, and Sylus takes advantage, crawling over you, his hands kneading at the fat of your thighs. Your bed is already messy, the sheets rumpling as he jostles you a bit, patting your thigh to make you move further up on the bed.

Sylus settles between your thighs, his cock hot and heavy against your stomach as he drops his weight onto you, his hands finding yours before pinning them above your head. You sigh into his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist, the heels of your feet digging into your ass when he rolls his hips, grinding his bare cock against your pussy.

“I like these,” he mumbles when he kisses down your chest and noses into your breasts. An airy noise sounds when he sucks a hardened nipple into his mouth, his teeth catching against the bud before he bites down measuredly. 

You squirm, hips rolling needily when he sucks more of your breast into his mouth, alternating between them when he feels the other being neglected.

“Such pretty tits,” Sylus sighs, pulling back to stare at the stiffened peaks of your breasts, covered in his spit and budding teeth marks that were bound to bruise.

“I thought you were gonna knot me,” you murmur, rolling your hips up, mewling when you feel his cock slide between your folds.

“So desperate,” he muses, letting go of your hands in favor of grasping his cock.

You look down, eyes half-lidded as he grips the base of his cock, right over his knot that somehow seemed a little larger in the moments that had passed. A whine escapes you when he slaps his cock against your pussy, your cheeks flushing when you see the glistening strings of slick clinging to his cock.

“How sweet,” Sylus croons, his grin growing sharper, “even your pussy doesn’t want to let me go.”

You huff out a breath to hide your embarrassment, throwing your arm over your eyes. “Don’t talk like that.”

He laughs, rising up to sit on the haunches of his legs, his hand stroking his cock lazily. “But you enjoy it, doll. Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want now.”

You watch with bated breath as he notches the head of his cock against your pussy, squirming when you realize how much his cock is actually going to stretch you out. The knot at the base seems even more intimidating; you feel a little nervous, thighs trying to clamp shut just when Sylus begins to push in. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, “relax, okay? I’ll take care of you.”

You reach for his hand, trying to calm your rapid heart and Sylus gives it to you, lacing your fingers together before kissing your knuckles.

A soft gasp leaves you when he begins to push in again, and that’s when you feel how girthy his cock truly is. It stretches you, inch by inch and you bite your lip, eyes slipping shut.

“That’s it,” Sylus soothes, squeezing your hand and tilting his head to kiss your shoulder, “take my cock, sweetness.”

An incoherent sound emanates from you when he sinks all the way in, your hands scrabbling at his shoulders when you feel how good he’s stretching you, how full you feel - and that’s without his knot. You stare down, heart fluttering in your chest when you see where you’re connected, his cock buried inside of you.

“A- aren’t you going to put your knot in?” you ask meekly, mouth dropping open when he begins to move his hips, the slow, rolling motions making you see stars.

“When you’re ready for it,” Sylus whispers, his voice hoarse, “pretty pussy’s still too tight for it. Practically trying to milk my cock already, baby.”

You hiccup, tears nearly springing to your eyes when he begins to draw his hips out, thrusting forward more forcefully. Sylus moans loudly and you claw at his back, arms and legs clinging to him tightly when he swirls his hips and grinds them forward, burying his cock in deeper with every thrust.

His knot seems to swelling rapidly, and you peek down with wide eyes, letting out a shaky breath when you see how thick it’s become. It squishes up against you with every thrust Sylus delivers, catching against your clit every now and then. 

“I- ngh- fuck- I don’t think it’s going to fit,” you whimper, trying to push at Sylus’ abdomen when he grips your hips.

He snaps his teeth, irritation showing on his face when you try to squirm away from his knot, his grip tight enough to keep you in place. “Don’t fucking run from it,” he snarls, and you’re reminded of the way he was in that birdcage, feral and unrelenting. 

You gulp when he grips your thighs, pushing them down towards your stomach, practically folding you until your cunt is on display for him. It’s lewd and obscene and so terribly hot, that your pussy clenches down greedily, eager for more of his attention.

“There we go,” he whispers, snapping his hips harder, his balls smacking against your ass, “pretty pussy loves my cock, hm?”

You blink up at him, nodding shyly, the words slipping out of you unbidden. “I love your cock, Sylus.”

Sylus’ hips stutter to a stop when he hears your shy, whispery words, his cheeks flushing to a pretty pink that has your eyes lighting up.

“Y- yeah?” he murmurs, and you laugh when he clears his throat, giddy by the fact that you’ve managed to fluster Sylus of all people. “Whose cock is it then, baby?”

“Mine,” you murmur, your fingers reaching down to scratch at his navel, through the coarse hairs that lie there. “Your cock’s all mine.”

Sylus groans and you yelp when he suddenly spreads you open, gasping when he thumbs apart your folds, his knot beginning to sink inside of you. It’s a tight fit and you cry out, tears pricking at your lash line when he finally manages to bully it in.

You feel so full, you’re almost sure you can feel his cock in your throat. 

“No- shit- don’t fucking clench,” he groans, his head dropping forward to bury his head into the crook of your neck when your pussy flutters around his fat cock and knot, trying to accomodate. 

“Can’t help it,” you wail, fingers pulling at his hair harshly, squeaking when he tugs his knot free and starts to fuck you again. 

Sylus ruts his hips into you, driving forward and pounding his cock into your cunt until you sob, writhing on your bed, the building pleasure entirely overwhelming. The clap of his hips is loud, balls smacking into you with every thrust, his knot creating an embarrassing sound whenever it sinks inside of you, before Sylus pulls his hips back, tugging the knot free.

“Gonna breed you,” he begins to mutter, his teeth nipping at your shoulder and neck, biting with measured care. “I’m going to breed this tight fucking cunt, sweetness. Give you all of my fucking cum.”

“All of it,” you echo breathlessly, “want it- want your knot, Sylus.”

“You’re getting it,” he growls, squeezing your hips tightly before shoving his knot in completely.

You scream, twitching when it swells inside of you completely. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, entirely too large to be tugged free again when Sylus jerks his hips.

“Oh- oh my- fuck-” you squeal, and Sylus smashes his lips over yours in a heated kiss. It’s all teeth and fangs and spit, and you grab blindly at his shoulders, gasping uncontrollably when it continues to swell, growing fatter and fatter until your pussy throbs around it, the knot locking you together.

“Cum,” Sylus rasps against your lips, “cum, doll, cum on my fucking knot. Cum on my fucking knot so I can give you my cum and breed this sweet, little pussy.”

You moan brokenly, thighs twitching when he rubs your clit, the sensations on the sensitive bud trying to make you curl away from him. Sylus kisses you again and you whimper into his mouth, cunt clenching uncontrollably as you cum, head tossed back, and back arched.

He curses, his head dropping forward at the feel of your pussy, and you mewl when he cums straight after, ears perking up at the low growls and breathy groans. His cum is hot and thick, and you’re still too full, filled up with his cum and his cock. The knot doesn’t give way until several moments later, deflating slowly.

Sylus’ cum spills out, hot and slow and you watch with dazed eyes as it leaks out of you, your pussy fluttering around nothing, thanks to the loss of his fat cock. 

“That’s no good,” he murmurs, his fingers spreading through his cum, rubbing it over your folds and clit before trying to push it back into your pussy.

Sylus frowns at you when you slap his hand away, and you give him a half-hearted glare, pussy aching and thighs sore from the way he had fucked and bent you. He hums, slinking down the bed to kiss your thighs and you sigh, running your fingers through his hair, the throbbing in your pussy fading faintly as he massages your sore muscles and kisses your clit every now and then, his actions affectionate.

You let him clean you up, thankful for the glass of water he brings you. Sylus pulls you closer into his chest, kissing your forehead, his hands smoothing up and down your sides.

“So what does it mean?” you ask him quietly, leaning forward to meet his kiss when he tips your chin upwards, “the feather?”

Sylus’ expression sobers for a moment, his lips grazing across your cheek to whisper into your ear.

“That your soulmate is near.”

You pull back, staring up into his eyes suspiciously. When you see the slight twitch of his lips, his usual smirk pulling across his lips, you scoff and swat his chest. He laughs, catching your wrist and bringing your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

“What?” he murmurs, “am I really such a bad candidate to be your soulmate?”

“You’re lying,” you grouse, letting him pull you up onto his lap and press his face into the crook of your neck.

“You don’t know that,” Sylus whispers, tilting his head to kiss the pulse in your throat.

You can’t help but think he has such a strange obsession with it. When he emerges from the crook of your neck, you cup his jaw, staring up into his eyes. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad, you think, spending every life with him, especially when he’s like this.

“Then promise me,” you say, your voice holding a hint of a challenge. “Promise me that when we’ve passed and our bones are nothing but dust that you’ll find me in the next life.”

Sylus seems slightly taken aback by your request, his eyes widening momentarily before he leans forward, slotting his lips over yours. “Is that a confession of love, sweetness?” He smiles against your lips, nipping your lower lip. “In any case, I promise it,” he whispers, his gaze intense, “in this life or the next, I will find you and have you.”

You purse your lips, heart fluttering at his declaration.

“You’re a fool,” you mumble, pressing yourself more firmly against his chest, head resting on his shoulder.

“And yet you still took my knot.”

“I hate you.”

Sylus pouts mockingly, his lips attacking your cheek with kisses until you have no choice but to let out the laughter you’ve been holding in. His words are a gentle whisper, caressing your skin, his promise tightening the unseen bonds that bind you together. 

“Forever, my sweet soulmate.”

[cursedcatvibes]

i just saw you like my leon post and got so excited to come and find your goldmine of a page. immediate follow. <333 im currently playing res 2 again, he's just so....

RAHH omg yes i could literally eat this man up for breakfast lunch and dinner.. i’m so guilty for getting him injured in re2r on purpose just to hear him :(

IM ALSO GLAD YOU LIKE MY WORKSS MWAHH I LOVE UUU 😖

[cursedcatvibes]

the ending.. IM IN SHAMBLES ☹️

deference | Leon Kennedy

knight!Leon x healer!Reader

All breath leaves your body when you stumble upon an unconciousness knight baring arms of a rival kingdom. You nearly leave him to his death, uncaring of his fate but something in you calls you back to him.

warnings: historical fantasy au. forbidden love. mention of injuries. graphic description of violence. forced proximity. enemies (very mild) to lovers. begrudging allies. fictional kingdoms. reader is described with long black hair and dark eyes. female anatomy described. pacing might be strange. religious imagery. explicit making out. breast play. fade to black sex. MINORS DNI!!!

word count: 8.5k

a/n: the visions, i chant. anyways i think this is the most explicit wriitng ive ever done. i hope it was alright and did not feel clunky. happy reading<3

Sweat gathers in your brows, seeping deep into the follicles of your hair, sliding and slipping through every crevice of your body as it trails down, marking a path for others to follow. Your breathing is harsh, a gravelly intake followed by a sharp exhale, a grunt accompanying it soon after.

The sun is low, hidden behind the foliage of the great trees of the forest, forcing its way in through the leaves and painting the ground orange. It does less to hide the ugliness of the ground; a mixture of mud and grass, every step squelching loudly, footprint pressing into the earth heavier than normal.

You pause every now and then to steady yourself, stabilize your breathing, your bones protesting and aching under the heavy weight laden on your back. He is still breathing, his short breaths coming out in infrequent puffs against the skin of your neck. It is weak but it’s still there.

You tighten your grip around his armour-clad thigh, shaking the sweat away from your eyes before continuing on your path. You feel the trickle of another liquid on your back, more viscous and warmer, leaving behind a trail of scarlet, the smell of iron heavy in the air.

You begrudgingly continue your journey, uncaring about the path of blood leading towards you, mind focused on getting the man alive to your home.

But it seems nature is on your side today, a thick band of greying clouds rolling in, consuming the sun in its entirety, basking the earth in darkness before tumbling down its gift to the world. The rain washes away your sweat, cooling your body and with it the drops of crimson become one with the muddy expanse.

The slow pitter patter of rain does little to distract you from the unconscious knight on your back. His presence is proving to be a disastrous decision, his weight pulling you down as rainwater sticks to his clothes underneath the layers of his armour, the edge of his blade cutting shallow strokes in the back of your calves.

You should have left him to die, for reasons more than one.

He had been nothing but an interruption. The smell of death was lingering heavier than usual, roping you into it, lulling you closer, pleading you to take a closer look. You know recognize the scent of death, how it sours the air, digs into every corner it is able to find, festers away in your skin and muscle until there is nothing left but rot. It's what your hands smell like.  

The shrubs in your hands had fallen away when you parted your way through the trees, fingers carefully caressing the roughened barks of the old trees. The more you got closer the more it felt like air was being sucked from your lungs, tasting the decay on the tip of your tongue before peeling the branches away and revealing the scene before you.

Slaughtered bodies lying on the ground, with their severed limbs scattered around. There was a decapitated head near your foot, its visor turned up to reveal the pale skin underneath. Their essence flowed from where they were cut open, collecting together to form a stream draining into the soil, the earth drinking it as though enraptured by thirst.

The sight before you had dizzied you, eyes shut as you tried to regain your balance. The sound of a rasping breath had you shoot them open, eyes fixating on the body lying face down in the far corner. His limbs were intact, head still attached atop his body, facing away from you in an armour that did not match with the others that lay slain around him.

His helmet seems to be knocked off his head, mud covering majority of his mane but still it does not hide the true colour of his hair. Light strands peek out from beneath his dirtied hair, almost golden against the shine of the sun, so translucent that you think you would be able to spot your fingers should they be buried in them.

Your heart quickens in anticipation, breath quickening when your legs tentatively move forward.

It can’t be.

The unconscious knight does not react at your approach, still frozen on the ground when you kneel next to him. You slide your arms underneath his chest and heave him so he turns, flipping onto his back.

And you let out a soft gasp, your hands tainted pink. On his chest plate is the carving of the sun, your eyes shifting to his sword and catching the gold glint on its hilt.

The reaction is immediate, stumbling away, distancing yourself from him, hands dirtied with the bloody soil as you had nearly stumbled on the severed knight, the crescent moon crest on his chest plate a warning to you.

You had turned away, ready to forget but something compels you, halting you in your steps, unable to make your leave, pity rushing into your system and calling you back.

It's all it is. Pity. That’s what you’re repeating in your head as you trudge to your home, grateful to see the wooden fence of your cottage, all but barging in and locking the door behind you. Everything after is a reflex; water set to boil, fetching your needle and thread, grinding up the leaves in the mortar and pestle.

Pity.

And nothing more.

They say the brain works in mysterious ways, functioning with an inbuilt survival mechanism, taking the pain of the body and refusing to register it, pumping in the muscles the strength needed just for the chance of getting to live another day.

It is the first thing taught to a warrior – the beauty and inevitability of death. The sensation isn’t foreign to a man of war, having looked death in the eye and then having the courage to refuse its invitation.

It is the job, to live by the sword and to die by it.

And this time, Leon was ready. The golden hilt of his sword glittering in the sun, the blade eager and thirsty for a drink as he was circled like a prey by the enemy.

It baffles him still how instincts take over, hands working on their own as they hack, lunge and saw away the limbs of his opponents, blood spattering the silver crescent of their banners. He doesn’t register the damage done to him, entering an almost trance like state, his gold armour drenched in red.

All he remembers last is the heave of his harsh breaths, blinking his consciousness away as he remains the last to stand, strength sapping out of him as he collapses, tasting the grittiness of the dirt he will return to.

The air is heavy around him, the ground beneath him soft, his body weightless as he comes to. It is a task to peel his eyes open, the muck gathering in his lashes resisting his attempts. There is a warm glow somewhere, the sound of wood crackling and snapping in the hearth abundant, the smell of oak flooding his nostrils.

The fire reflects back into the room, with its tall ceilings, painting shadows across the wooden floor. There is an orange hue to all that the embers touch. He slowly moves his eyes around, noting the dried-up herbs and flowers hanging from lines from the ceilings, a huge shelf pressed up against the wall full with vials of different coloured liquids settled between the thick bindings of the books.

Elysium looks different than what he had thought it to be, the pearly white gates of heaven with the sweet melody of the harp welcoming him to his new home nowhere in sight. This place is too small to be heaven, the aesthetics a sharp contrast to what he had imagined.

Leon blinks and a shadow moves. It glides across the floor, absorbing the light around itself as it walks to the hearth, a cauldron bubbling away on top of the fire as it adds something to it.

He blinks again, eyes still adjusting to the light as the shadow turns around, the embers banishing away the darkness. He sucks in a breath. This may not be Elysium but there is an angel present. Or is it Death? He didn’t know that Lady Death could be this beautiful.

Pain shoots up his body as Leon makes the mistake of trying to get up. He snaps his eyes shut, body reeling with pain, his breathing becoming haggard.  He looks down to his chest, panic building when he notices himself adorned in a loose linen shirt and pants, bandages wrapping around him, the white of it a stark contrast against his shirt.

No, no, no, no, no.

Leon is very much alive; death having ignored him on their last meeting. He looks around, heart beating more viciously, flooding it with strength as his pupils dilate when he notices his sword lying next to him.

He shifts to grip it, swallowing his grunts of pain as he gets up and melts into the dark confines scattered across the room. He waits until the person makes to move towards the cauldron again, stirring its content with a wooden spoon.

He moves like the air around him; footsteps light and silent, and in an instant has the edge of his blade pointing at the side of the shadow’s neck, the tip gently kissing the skin there, beads of crimson dotting his steel.

You still, halting your motion.

The shadow sighs a tired breath before speaking. “You think with all that training you lot would be sufficient skilled with the art of decapitating.” You glare at him. “Why is it always like this with you people?”

Leon moves, sword still at your throat as he comes to stand next to you, eyes ablaze with fury. “Who are you?”

You fix him with a look, the flames dancing around in your dark eyes. You look uninterested, moving the blade away from your face with the handle of your wooden spoon before returning to mix in the contents of the pot bubbling away.

Surprise is evident on Leon’s face, taking a step back, trying to gauge the situation, his right arm burning in protest. The sword nearly slips from his grasp, the edge now hitting the floor with a loud clang as he cradles the injury on his arm. “I asked you a question,” he says with gritted teeth.

You simply shrug, blowing on the soup gathered in your spoon as you taste it. “No one.” Your eyebrows furrow in deep thought, gathering your skirts as you walk towards the wooden table, grabbing the mortar and pestle as you grind, throwing in an array of shrivelled-up leaves.

Ridiculous, he thinks. Leon is born and bred of this world, knowing full well the disparities between the two neighbouring kingdoms, one bathed in the gold of the sun while the other in the silver of the moon. And he is a knight, the Kingsguard, found battered in a foreign land where his mere existence is a crime.

He should have been dead. If he isn’t then it is either because he is a prisoner or the source of bounty, ready to be shipped off to the enemy’s castle where he would be stripped off his honour and then his head.

He needs to leave.

His armour his most prized possession. Where is it?

Leon pulls together the strength and raises his sword again as it trembles in his hand, pointed at you as you move back and forth. “My armour, what have you done with it?”

You don’t spare him a glance as you carry about working as though his presence is insignificant, like the dust gathering on your shelves; enough to be a nuisance but not enough to demand action. “It’s placed on the other side of where you were lying down.”

He forgets his station, limping hurriedly back from where he had gotten up, scrambling as he tightens the straps around his body, the tremble in his body worsening as the weight increases on his shoulders. It’s a sloppy work, nimble hands working deftly as he incorrectly dons his armour.

This act alone would have earned him two weeks of shovelling horse shit if he were back in the academy, working tirelessly underneath the beating of the sun as the smell of manure would follow him for days.

It is nearly comical how the noise is least bothersome to you, continuing to add spices into the bubbling soup. Leon trudges across the length of your home, his hand grasping the doorknob when you decide to speak up, your back towards him.

“You won’t make it past the old tree stump.”

The tension in Leon’s body increases ten-fold. “Am I your prisoner?”

You turn to look at him, sighing and shrugging your shoulders. “No.”

There’s nothing else Leon needs to hear as he twists the door open, holding onto the sword as he walks down the path leading away from the dreary cottage. The clouds are still present up in the sky, refusing to let the sun pass.

The sticky ground makes it difficult for him to walk, wobble in each step. His breath becomes laborious with every inch of ground he manages to cover, black spots flooding his field of vision, blurring the outline of the wooden fence.

Leon tries to shake it away. You can’t be a failure. And he is not. He will succeed even if it kills him. Soldiers have died from less and he is a Kingsguard; the best of the best. What a sham he will be when he returns, unable to scale a few meters of land.

Exhaustion catches up with him, sending him tumbling face down in the mud. Consciousness swims in and out of focus, so devoid of vigour that he can barely move a finger.

A sweet scent snaps into the air, lulling him into a deep sleep.

“I told you that you wouldn’t make it past the tree stump.”

He twists his head to the side to see you sitting down on the stump, arms crossed over your chest and an unimpressed look on your face. “What was your plan exactly?”

There is an edge of fury painting your words. “Follow the path? Come across the nearest town dressed the way you are? And then? There aren't many people in this country with hair and eyes as light as yours. You will be caught before days end and will be hanging by a noose before dawn.”

Leon makes a grunt of noise, trying and failing to heave himself up.

“If you truly have a death wish that badly, then do not hesitate to tell me. I can kill you myself.” You kick the ground underneath your feet. “What a waste it was to use my balms on you.”

He can’t seem to find the words, eyes fixated on your form, looking ethereal from where he is laying down, the fluttering of his eyes distorting the light around you. Leon is unable to move and is quick to lose the fight against the tiredness that is just on the edge of pulling him under. The world grows quiet around him, jaw slacking as he once again loses his grip on reality.

Leon wakes up in the same position as before.

This time around he wakes more gently, eyelashes fluttering against the skin of his cheeks, no harsh lights streaming in through the windows. The ache in his body is more intense as though in punishment for his deeds earlier.

He shifts a little in test, eyes moving everywhere and taking note that his armour and sword are also back in their original positions.

But this time there sits a bowl next to him.

Steam wafts up from its surface in wisps, carrying with it a delicious aroma that shuns away his nausea, instead reminding him just how much hungry he really is. The fire still roars away, illuminating the whole cottage with its glow.

Leon bites down his pain, heaving himself up and reaching out for the bowl. The sheet that had been thrown over him slides down to his waist as he brings the contents up to his mouth. Pain greets him again like an old friend when the hot liquid makes contact where his lips had been split open, grunting out loud but pressing on to tip the whole of it past his throat.

The gurgle of his stomach eases, letting the concoction of spices and herbs revitalize him, a steady flow of energy returning to him. He places it back down on the floor, making to lie back down.

“You’ll have to wash your own bowl.”

He tenses, shuffling around where he is on the floor to see where you are. You sit on a sofa in the far end of the corner, legs neatly tucked under yourself with your nose buried in a book.

“I thought you said I should rest.”

“I said no such thing.” You are quick to correct him. “You can’t walk past the fence but you can within these walls.”

He hums in thought. “You never told me who you are.”

“I did.”

“You said you were no one, that is not an answer.”

Silence.

“You know who I am,” Leon tries again.

“I do.”

“And yet you nurse me instead of turning me in.”

You finally grace him with a look, the fire returned to your eyes. “Is that a complaint?”

“An observation.”

“Sounds more like a complaint.”

“I don’t think they’d approve of your actions,” he says pointedly gesturing with his face with the crescent banner hanging above the fireplace. You look where he points and then nestle yourself back into your book.

“Neither would yours for sitting there quietly.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Are you a traitor?”

“If I were one, would I be living here so peacefully?”

“No.”

“Are you one?”

He pauses, a teasing lilt to his words. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Leon turns to stare at you, watching intently as your fingers splay against the parchment of your book, feeling the material between the pads of your index finger and thumb before turning it over. He's never seen hair as dark as yours. It was as black as the night sky, strands made of ebony, cascading down your face as though spilled ink.

“What is your name?”

You look up to catch him watching you, holding his gaze and then shifting between his eyes, the blue of his irises reminding you of the brilliant coolness of the lake on a hot summer's day. You try and assign a proper colour to his hair, a mix between the golden blond of a lion's mane with specks of platinum.

“I think it best to not reveal our names, or anything else, to each other.”

Leon nods, folding his hands over his chest. “You are a healer?”

“Yes.”

“You must be familiar with death then.”

You smile knowingly, the action not reaching your eyes. “As are you.”

Guilt begins to constrict his throat as he stares at the ceiling. He seems to be feeling better, nothing in his body hurting too much except for his pride, weakness embedded deep within each sliver of his muscle.

His mind races, going back to his gruelling training days at the academy, the sound of Captain Krauser echoing in his ears. He remembers his time, panting as he runs underneath the sun, in tow of his Captain’s horse, back laden with heavy weights. To die by the sword is to die with honour, anything short of that is failure.

Leon yearns for martyrdom the most, remembering the awe filled gaze of his childhood self, listening intently to the stories of many brave knights that had come before him, endless tales of great Sers laying down their lives for the crown. His idols, his heroes and yet here he is, lying wrecked after a plain mission that had him convinced of his fated end.

What is even more pitiful that he requires help from the enemy, the ones he had been trained for most valiantly, tales of their dark magic etched onto his brain, costing the lives of many back home.

He should despise you. And yet he doesn’t seem to have the energy for it. Leon shakes his head; he’ll make an exception of you for how could he carry a seed of hatred in heart for the one who had saved him?

This makes it all the more complicated. If he manages to make it back to the castle, there will be questions awaiting him. How did he survive? Was he successful? Did he meet anyone there? There would certainly be questions about you and more importantly how dare he let you touch him, to taint him, corrupt him with your darkness?

Leon is in your debt and he cannot betray you just on the basis of who you are. What a ridiculous technicality.

“You shouldn’t have saved me.” He mutters quietly.

The book in your hand snaps shut loudly, exasperation evident in your tone, “And maybe you shouldn’t have planned on dying out in my way in my forest. We can spend hours doing this so it would be best if you accepted the fact that sometimes things just happen without reason.”

Leon grows quiet as listens to the creak of your bed, the rustling of your sheets as you climb in. “I can’t stay here.”

“I am aware.”

“I need to leave.”

“I’m working on it.”

There’s a finality in the way you said it, not open to any more conversation. Leon is happy to oblige, feeling his eyelids grow heavier with his belly now full. But he can’t help how bare open he is in the enemy territory, unsure if he should be offended or not at the lack of chains keeping him bound. Did you think him that weak or did you simply not care?

“Are you not going to chain me?”

The bed creaks once more. “What for?”

“In case I may kill you.”

There is a heavy pause as you consider his words, pulling the sheets closer to your body as your head buries into the pillow. “If you must, do so in one stroke.”

The sun is bright today, taking its place high up in the sky, drying away the previous day's rainwater. It’s good, better and helpful in properly identifying the flowers and herbs that you need. It's a distance away from where you had found the golden knight. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a rag, eyes raking up and down the fields in search of a flower.

It is special in its own right, not plucked by the people due to its unflattering visage. Its petals were not the same as its counterparts, not bestowed the beauty of pinks, purples and blues but rather the heaviness of browns.

It doesn’t have much purpose, overlooked by even the woodland creatures. It is why its your favourite, finding beauty in the most inconspicuous of things, reaching out to pluck it and placing it in your basket with the rest.

It bleeds pretty, leeching the brown pigment and helping in dye clothes. You hope it will colour hair as well.

You never could have imagined this is what your life would look like two days ago. The knight’s mere presence is enough to earn you the most severe punishment, ripped away of your freedom and your rights for harbouring the enemy.

You don’t know why you’re behaving like this, protocol drilled into your brain about what to do should you find yourself facing them.

They are the true traitors, stabbers in the back when all the Crescent has ever done is put out a hand of truce. Vile, vicious and cruel, cutting down anyone and anything in their path, born of evil, ambition driving them blind.

You see anyone sport the colours of the enemy, you report it to knights, collect your reward and live life as before.

So, why haven’t you?

It hurts your head too much thinking about it. But curiosity is burning brighter than anything else. He stays in your head too much, the light strands of his hair to the light blues of his eyes. You've never seen someone from across the border this up-close before.

You have so many questions. Does his hair glimmer in the sun like how his sword had? Are his eyes fully blue or if you look close enough, you'll fine specks of other colours in them? Maybe even a reflection of yourself?

You huff out a breath, basket held by your hips as you walk back. He wonders why you haven’t turned him in or bound him but you wonder as well why he hasn’t slain you already and run off. You know he is capable, evident in the way he had torn apart through the soldiers in the forest and his seal of the Kingsguard so prominent on his chest plate.

His skill is without question and yet he still heeds to you. He is a warrior, blood has stained his hands and yet they are so gentle, so soft against your skin when he had taken away your bowl at dawn before you left, keeping his promise of washing them.

“I hope you will not disappear by the time I return,” You had said to him, basket in hand as he scrubbed away.

He cracked a teasing smile, sending blood rushing into your ears, sparing you a glance through his hair, “Why? Will you miss me?”

You scoffed, turning away, “No but lest you get caught – which you will – it would not end well for me.”

Leon grabbed the rag lying nearby, wiping his hands dry as he walks closer to you, tilting his head in question. “Dire consequences?”

“Yes.”

You don’t step away as he enters your orbit, caught in your gravity as he steps closer. Leon gently grasped your chin between his fingers, tipping your head to look at him. “How so?”

“I will be tried for treason,” You whispered, drinking in his features, watching when his eyebrows furrowed, “Found guilty. And then they would cut off my tongue, chop my right hand and throw me in the dungeon to rot away.”

You still remember the way he had held you firmly, something akin to protectiveness burning in his eyes, voice not quivering when he swore on his life that he would be here waiting for you.

Lost in thought, you don’t realize you’re standing on your doorstep, heart fluttering in your chest when you shut the door behind you. You immediately search for him, finding him turning around from where he stands in front of your shelf, hands clasped behind him. You shy away from his eyes, jostling the basket, moving the flowers around. “You’re here.”

“Don’t sound so surprised now,” Leon quips, coming to take the basket away from your hands, “Where would I have gone knowing you were to return?”

You cough, removing the apron from around yourself, stealing glances from where the linen shirt hangs loosely on his back, the front of it dipping deep into his chest. “Flowers for me? I'm flattered.”

You roll your eyes, stifling a laugh, as you go searching for a clean pot, “They’re for your hair. Hopefully they can colour them dark so you are able to return home.”

He stills, letting the dainty petals fall through his fingers. “Ah yes, of course. Home. Have you figured out how?”

You hum in affirmation, coming to stand beside him and shifting all the flowers to the pot. “The best way is by boat. Tomorrow there shall be no vessel on the water, everyone on land in preparation for the full moon festival.” He grabs the bucket of water before you can, pouring it over the petals. “Even if someone spots you, your dark hair shall keep you from arising suspicion.”

His silence is uncharacteristic, making you look at him. He stares at his reflection in the water, lines deep on his forehead as he seems lost in thought.

You move around him, heaving the pot and setting up over the simmering fire. You grab a log, throwing it in and feeding it air to wake it up. You glance up again to where Leon is frozen on the table, back muscles dancing against the thin veil of his shirt.

You begin to hum a tune, grabbing your wooden spoon and stirring the contents as it comes up to heat.

“Can I ask you something?”

You whip your head up, his blond locks falling into his eyes, the pink of his lips more intense, looking heart-breaking with his tired eyes, shoulders slouched in defeat. “Yes, of course.”

He comes to stand next to you, palms held out towards the embers. “Why did you save me?”

You continue to stir, watching the fire crack open the lumber, exposing its insides to the flames consuming it within seconds. “You didn’t deserve an end like that.” The wood cracks. “You deserve to meet your end with honour; die a warrior’s death.”

The water leeches out the colour from the pigment in the petals, turning the water murky, camouflaging the flowers within itself. The process delights you still, taking a vial from the shelf, gathering the dust in it in your palms and scattering it like stars on a blank canvas. The colour deepens, smiling proudly and looking up to see Leon fixated on you.

His gentleness leaves you spellbound, rough callouses of his hand like wisps of clouds against your skin where they graze your temple, fingers delving into your hair and gliding through each strand. His eyes are full of mirth when he pulls away, dangling a leaf in front of your eyes, “You should be more vary out in the field, My Lady.”

Your heart twists at his words, unable to help your gaze as it falls to his lips, descending down to his prominent collarbones, milky skin taught on his chest where the collar tapers off, swallowing your saliva.

You tear yourself away from his enchantment, pulling the pot away from the fire and pouring it out in a bucket quickly, the steam adding warmth to your face. “It should cool down in a minute or so. Then we’ll wash your hair with it.”

He simply hums in agreement, hands still toying with the leaf he pulled from your hair. You grab thick fresh sheets, dragging a chair next to where you placed the bucket, bringing a stool closer with your foot. You sit on the chair, dipping your fingers in the liquid to check the temperature, glad to find it tepid.

You place away the sheets and pat the stool, encouraging Leon to sit. He moves wordlessly, coming to sit with his back facing you. Hesitantly you reach out, fingers dancing delicately over his shoulders before settling down on them, feeling his stiffen and then relax under your touch. You guide him to lie back, cradling the back of his head as it comes to rest in your lap.

“Comfortable?”

He nods, muscle in his jaw ticking as his eyes lock onto you, feeling the weight of it caress your face.

“I’ll pour from above and it will dissolve in your hair, okay?”

He settles his weight fully onto your lap, eyes shutting as he lets out a heavy exhale, hands in fists where they rest on his thighs. You take that as conformation, pouring it little by little, untangling his hair with your fingers.

Leon’s face twists as you glide your fingers through his soft hair and you pause upon noticing. “Am I hurting you?”

“No. It's just...I have never been touched like this.”

“How so?”

He opens his eyes, his gaze piercing. “With such gentleness.”

Your stomach jumps, caught up in the tender way he is looking at you. You abandon the pail, slowly lowering it at your side as you lean down, eyes flickering to the soft pink of his lips. Leon’s breath steadies, craning his neck further up as your hair flutters down your shoulders like a curtain drawing you two away from prying eyes.

You move your fingers again, threading through his golden strands, nails grazing his scalp. He shudders, a soft sound escaping from him as he relaxes further back, cradling his head in your lap, uncaring for the water dying your apron. Leon’s eyes flutter shut when your lips ghost over his forehead, warm breath flitting across his face.

He nearly whimpers, lost in ecstasy in the way you bestow upon him such gentleness. Leon had long forgotten what this felt like only familiar with the scourge of battle or the hunger of lust, hands held out always in demand of him and yet never being on the receiving end, body given to the crown to be made a slave.

He could stay like this forever, wrapped up in your arms, living a life away from metal and blood.

You move across his forehead, travelling down his temples to his cheeks, placing delicate kisses on his skin. It is addicting, the feel of him and the taste of him, craving him more and more. His breathless sounds fuel you, urging you to mark his whole face. You stop when you reach his lips, backing away as he makes a sound in protest.

“Come now,” You softly mumble, stroking his temples with your thumbs, moving his hair away, “Let’s get you home.”

Leon doesn’t answer, looking at you without blinking, surrendering himself to your touch as you manoeuvre back, your softness melting away from him. You avoid looking at him, picking up the pail and resuming the process.

You fix your eyes on his light hair turning dark, ignoring the way his eyes do not stray from you, bewitched in your benevolence. You comb his hair with your fingers, caressing him, ensuring the dye reaches every strand.

When you are sure the process is complete, you put down the pot, flicking away the water from your hands. You grab a thick clean sheet and wrap it around his hair. “That should do it.”

Leon’s hand comes up to hold the sheet, fingers grazing yours as he sits up, twisting around to look at you. You watch in confusion as he averts his gaze with a cough, a shade of pink dusting the top of his cheeks. He picks up the spare sheet and holds it out to you, unable to help his eyes flicker to you before staring adamantly away.

“Here...” He stutters, the muscle in his jaw jumping. “You should uh...”

You glance, mortification petrifying you as you see how much wet the front of your dress has become, clinging fiercely to your body, highlighting every curve, nipples hardened against the cloth.

Red, hot flames dance up your neck as you grab the sheet he holds out, wrapping it around your body. You get up from your seat, crossing over quickly to the fireplace, hoping its heat is enough to dry your clothes.

You hear a huff of breath before the sound of Leon aggressively rubbing the sheet over his head reaches you. Your heart is thumping furiously in your chest, holding the corners away from your body, hoping to dry the front of your dress quick, only letting your back be covered.

“Do you have a mirror?” His gravelly voice comes from behind.

“No.”

“Then how will I know it worked?”

You take a deep breath, taking one step back before turning around. The first thing you notice is his eyes, gleaming more brightly against the deep brown shade of his hair, emboldened and shining like two mighty jewels.

They drink you in, watching intently as you let the sheet drop in your approach, fixated on the sway of your hips. He inhales deeply as you stop in front of him, his fingers twitching at his side.

“Kneel,” You whisper, fingers ghosting over his dampened strands, “So that I may look.”

Leon goes down instantly, forgetting his stature and his duty, knowing well that he kneels only in front of god and his King. But right now, standing in front of you, he is just a man, shedding his armour and glamour, humbling himself before you. His left knee takes to the ground, hands still on his right knee, bowing his head down to you in submission.

Your fingers delve in, moving through his wet hair strands, burying themselves fully without hesitation. Leon groans as you grip his strands tightly, leaning his forehead against your thigh, holding onto the back of your knee. His sounds become more desperate with every motion of your fingers; gasping, whining and keening as you pull.

“My Lady,” He groans pitifully, bunching the skirt of your dress in his fist, burying his nose between your thighs.

Your patience runs thin, using one hand to tip his head back, holding him by his chin. It sets a fire inside you when you look at him – hair mussed, pupils blown wide and lips parted, shining in the dim light of your cottage.

You don’t know who lunges first – you when you reach down or him as he surges up, lips crashing against one another. It’s desperate, searing and all consuming. Leon’s hand comes up to cradle your face, holding you in place as his lips begin to devour you, drinking every gasp and moan that spills from your lips.

“My Lady,” He whispers again in between kisses, pressing you impossibly closer to him.

You whine when he trails away from your lips, travelling down your neck and leaving open mouthed kisses, your hands locking behind his neck, a sharp gasp when he reaches your collarbones. It's too much and not enough, electricity travelling up and down your limbs, heat pooling at the bottom of your stomach.

You place your hand over his where it rests on your waist, tugging it free and guiding him up. You shiver when his fingers press up against the front of your wet dress, stopping when you finally reach your breast, his fingers blazing a furious path in their wake. You press his palm against the soft flesh, a wanton moan echoing in your cottage when his thumb grazes the hardened peak of your nipple.

“Ser Knight.” You mutter, breathless, tremble in your voice as he suckles the skin where your collarbone meets your throat.

“Yours,” His voice is sickly sweet, dripping in honey, nose brushing against yours as he whispers against your lips. “Your Knight.” He squeezes your breast, making you gasp, “Say it.”

“My Knight.”  

He hums in approval, moving you with him, hands wrapping around the tie that holds your dress in place. You immediately sense hesitation overcome him, his body stiffening underneath as he lets go of your lips, the sound of it echoing loud in your ears.

He moves away when you try to kiss him, already missing the way he was massaging you, nearly stomping your foot in protest. His hands brush against your cheek, making you look at him as the back of your legs hit the frame of your bed.

You kiss his chin, the scruff of his unshaven beard tickling your sensitive lips as he tips his head back. Leon lets out a noise of frustration, forehead creased, a pained expression on his face as he buries his head in the crook of your neck.

“I...We should not,” He shudders as you caress the back of his neck.

“Why?” You whisper, every second like torture that he does not touch you.

He breathes heavy as though in pain, groaning as he shuts his eyes tight, his panting harsh against your skin. “Because of who I am. You deserve someone...else. Someone who is not me. Someone who will not taint you, cause you trouble.”

You force him to look at you, moving to lie back on your bed, the scent of roses wafting from your sheets as you pull him on top of you, caged between his arms and legs, feeling vulnerable as he hovers over you. You hold his cheek, heart full of mirth as he leans into your touch, shutting his eyes and kissing your palm, suckling the soft skin there.

“It doesn’t matter what I deserve, it matters what I want.” You urge him towards you, capturing his lips in a slow, languid kiss, tasting him without any rush. “And I want you.”

He holds himself above you, your words washing over him as he searches your face. And then you see it, eternal flames of his unbridled desire consume him quick, the blue of his irises eclipsed by the darkness of his pupil.

“Okay,” He whispers, tenderly kissing your forehead, leaning back on his haunches as he removes his shirt, throwing it at a distance. You marvel at his taught body, hardened muscle littered with healed scars glittering silver. Your fingers trace them languidly, Leon shivering at your touch.

He leans back down, kissing you ardently, hands moving to your back as they undo the lace of your dress, “Then you shall have me.”

The dress becomes loose around your shoulders, tugging it till it lays bunched around your waist, cool air caressing your bare chest. You feel brave under his heated gaze, arching your back to him almost in a silent plea to touch you.

He moves like the calm waters of a bubbling stream; mapping out every inch of your skin starting from your neck, down to dip at your throat, over the curve of your breasts, revelling in your gasps. Your hand curl around his neck, holding him close as his tongue moves in circles, the other coming to rest on his massaging the other.

You have never felt this way before, the contrast of being touched delicately yet so fiercely making you see stars. Every kiss, every lick and every bite is your undoing, body transcending the physical pain. The sound of wet skin being suckled parrots around the four walls, biting your lower lip as more moans threaten to spill.

So lost in your pleasure, you jolt when his roughened fingers come to cradle your cheek, fondly rubbing them against your tender lips, freeing them from the grip of your teeth. “Let me hear you,” He whispers against your chest, hot breath wounding you up tight like a coil ready to snap.

You oblige, a loud sound falling freely from your lips when he begins to mouth your other breast, sucking more harshly. “My beautiful lady.”

The praise hits you like ecstasy, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he presses his hips to yours, the added pressure opening new gates of pleasure, sounds getting louder from him when he begins to rut against you, his strokes slow and deep over the rough cotton of your skirt.

“My knight,” You whisper, beads of tears blurring your vision, stroking his hair.

And then something just breaks in him. He descends, falls from grace just for you on his hands and knees, worshipping your body and soul. His hands touch you with reverence, as though you are holy, gentle in their crusade, leaving no inch undiscovered.

Every sound, every gasp is his reward, pulling as many as he can from you, lost in the feeling of you, intertwining his fingers with yours where your hand lays atop your mattress, pressing it deeper.

And you sing for him, his precious songbird, loud and clear, leaving no room for any doubt.

The day arrives without fanfare, light pouring in through the stained glass of your windows flooding the cottage with shades of reds, blues and yellows. Birds chirp outside the walls, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves from their slumber.

Leon wakes before you, feeling your naked back pressed up against his chest, drowning him in the smell of your soap. His legs are twisted with yours underneath the sheet, his hands encircled around your waist, relishing in the warmth of your skin underneath his fingers.

He leans further into you, pulling you closer as his hands shift, grazing the underside of your breast. He wishes the sun would away, letting him have more time to live in this reality, not yet ready to let it go – let you go. But it doesn’t listen, unable to do anything as you stir against him, turning to face him as your eyes flutter open.

The gentle smile on your face nearly breaks his heart, thumb sliding against your cheekbone. You lean closer, nuzzling your nose with his in greeting. Reality is quick to settle in as you both lie together in silence, no one daring to break the quiet, fleeting touches over each other's bodies.

“We can’t stay here forever.” You finally break in a tone so low that he wouldn’t have heard it if he weren’t so close to you right now. His fingers trace your lips.

“We can try,” He offers.

You huff out a sound, Leon loosening his grip on you as you sit up, the sheet falling away from your body his eyes tracing the movement intently. You step over him, almost faltering when his warm hands stabilize you by your hips, so close in melting back into his embrace, shaking yourself out of the reverie when your feet touch the cool ground.

He sits up, bed already falling cold without you, staring at your back, eyes raking over the marks he had left scattered all over you, shades of purples painted all over your skin. Helplessly he watches you slip the dress back on, removing the sheet away from him and coming to stand behind you, back in the gravity of your heat.

Leon tugs silently at the lace in your back, taking it away from you. He buries his nose in the back of your head, pressing kisses on your bare shoulder, eyebrows furrowing as your hand comes to cradle his head.

He tightens each lace, checking to note any discomfort, each knot done serving as a reminder of the irrefutability of your fates. You hold your dress tight against your sides, helping him, shifting your weight from one foot to another, shivering when his hands would meet your bare skin.

He slides his hands around your waist when he is done, lips against the side of your jaw as you stroke your hands over his.

You turn around, settling the side of your face over his heart, letting him hold you for a moment and then breaking away before it becomes too much, before you become too weak. Leon sighs, slipping into his pants and pulling his head through his shirt when you return, armour held in your hands. He watches you put it down on the table next to him.

Leon begins to wear it, slow in his motions, reaching to do the straps when you stop him, hands taking the leather from him. You tighten it, revolving around him as you dress him for battle, letting your hands linger as his heat disappears underneath the layers of his uniform.

You walk away once more when he fastens his sword to his side, bringing out a dark cloak from your old trunk, draping it around him as the cloth swallows him whole, hiding him behind it.

He slips his hand in yours, smiling to quell your worries, squeezing it in reassurance.

You make sure to shut the door tight behind you, a fog settling low on the ground, blurring the scenery. It breaks the sunlight, scattering it all around, reflecting back by the dew drops collecting on the blades of grades.

The two of you leave a trail, quickly hidden away by the mist as you guide him, his hand clasped between both of yours. “The boat is very small. It shouldn’t raise much alarm so early in the day. It's a straight journey towards your border, shouldn’t take very long.”

Leon smiles fondly when you begin to ramble, eyebrows pulled tight together. He wants nothing more than to kiss it away, holding himself back as the cadence of your tone washes over him.

“And your hair, I almost forgot, there is a vial I’ve placed in the inner pockets of your armour. Spread it in your hands and apply it thoroughly through your strands and it will return to their normal colour.”

You breathe in deep, “The boat doesn’t have any markings on it, nothing that will give it away from where it is. The craftsmanship is plain and no emblems or flags decorate it. But still be on the lookout, pretend to be a fisherman if someone asks. Oh, and once you reach shore, push the boat back into the water. I’ll have it collected.”

He pulls you closer with one tug, lips brushing against your hair. “Hmm. Smuggled many other knights before, have you?”

You nestle further into his touch. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to, Ser Knight.”

The air grows humid when two of you come close to your destination. The cove itself is hidden behind old trees, branches bowing towards their reflection, petals falling off from them and disturbing the stillness of the water. A wooden vessel lies in the centre, rope tying it to the small wooden dock.  

Your grip on his hand tightens, abruptly stopping in your steps. He lets you be, sliding his hand around your waist, and rubbing his fingers soothingly over the material of your dress.

You twist around in his grip, hand coming to cup his cheek, your eyes darting between his. “I’ll have no way of knowing if you made it to safety.”

He hums, holding your wrist more taught against his face, fighting a battle against himself. “I could stay.”

“No.” Your response is sharp, pulling your hand away and putting some distance between him and you. “I can’t ask that of you.”

Leon hangs his head low. “I apologize,” He murmurs, tentatively stepping closer to you. “I just want you to know that I regret none of it.”

Your smile is watery, tears glazing your irises. “Neither do I.”

“Then may I ask for a favour from the fair lady?”

“Anything.”

He smiles, hand moving out from under his robe and coming to hold yours, rubbing circles into your hand. “A kiss for good luck?”

You return his smile, free hand caressing his face as you lean into him, memorising his scent. Your lips meet his in the middle. Soft, gentle and mesmerising. You stroke his face, moving his darkened hair away, eyes flitting all over, committing him to memory.

There is no goodbye shared, fearing that it may send out a finality to the universe. Wordlessly he shifts, pushing the boat further in the water before climbing aboard.

 There is no hand raised in farewell, simply choosing to stand there and watch as the other fades from view, heart clenched in your chest. A strange emptiness comes to take hold of you, wind rustling your hair as you stand on the shore.

You blink and he disappears into the fog.

[cursedcatvibes]

Leon and Carlos 🙈

ac: umbrella_rpd

[cursedcatvibes]

KILLSHOT!

re4r!fuckboy leon x fuckgirl reader

word count: 5.9k

summary: Leon is only really a fuckboy because of some sort of childhood trauma thing. He doesn’t want to be forgotten, growing up ugly isn’t something he wanted to be remembered by so when he got his glow up he obviously used his looks to his advantage. But what happens when he starts to hear another name other than his own making rounds, everyone is raving about this person and Leon doesn’t like this. Is he jealous of them? Or is he actually jealous he hadn’t gotten to experience it yet?

tags/warnings: Minors DNI! Smut, 18+. Complicated emotions, slight mask kink, using of drugs, drugs mentioned, alcohol slightly mentioned, college ditzy bimbo talking, fingering, cowgirl, praise, characters from other franchises mentioned, halloween party, stalking-ish.. not proof read

A/N: hello! i have not been active in a few months oh my gosh.. literally sickening but life is literally sickening in itself? so.. but anyways, i had this idea strike me and it’s taken so long for me to punch it out because i kept changing the plot and rewriting and deleting shit because i didn’t like it. sue me! but yeah i forced myself to sit and write all day, so if some of the plot is not consistent i apologize! i actually got slight inspiration from pawgleon.. like the way the characters speak. i think she portrays bimbo and ditzy talk very well! (this is me partaking in kinktober)

Songs! ^^

Killshot (Slowed + Reverb) - Magdalena Bay

Rehab - Brent Faiyaz

Yummy - Ayesha Erotica

Like a Dream - Thomas LaRosa

Poison- Brent Faiyaz

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Leon’s always made a name for himself ever since Junior year in highschool. He had been considered ugly up until that point, had a bunch of acne (just like a normal growing teenager would), wore glasses, and his voice was still a little high-pitched because his balls had yet to drop. So what? Most boys are late bloomers! Definitely nothing to be insecure about.

He got picked on a lot and all the girls he liked never liked him back, always made fun of him whenever they could and called him a weird freak. But that all changed one summer when he got back to school for the new year.

He had gained a skincare routine, traded his glasses for contact lenses, and even started working out. It made him feel good about himself and it gave him the confidence to say fuck you to everyone else.

When he strolled into school however, it proved to be different almost immediately.

Here he was thinking he would have to defend himself again this year but people actually seemed to like him, girls he had never spoken to in his life started coming up to him. All pretty and perky too.

Now all of the sudden everyone wanted to fuck him and he was overjoyed. He quickly lost his virginity not even a month into starting the new school year, it took him a long while to perfect his craft but soon he got pretty good at knowing a woman’s body, men too.

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A few years later and now he’s in college with a reputation of being a fuckboy. It wasn’t a bad thing for him, considering the fact that he was able to get out the pent up stress college applied onto him.

Leon always got to pick his fruit of the night daily, sometimes even more than once a day. He didn’t have to worry about girls trying to get into relationships with him because of his reputation, one, and two, he was always up front about how he didn’t want to date anyone.

He was 1000% sure that if someone could be labeled as best fuck/hookup he would qualify for first every single time.

Well that’s what he originally thought until he started hearing another name going around, almost as often as his own. He was curious about who this person was, he wondered if they were as good as him for this many people to be buzzing about them.

It only took him a couple of minutes asking around before he found out the full name of the person and what class they were in. Surprisingly they were in the morning class of the same lesson that Leon took except his was more in the afternoon.

No wonder they haven’t crossed paths. No worries, he’s sure that a person like him must be cool enough to become friends with.

Oh how wrong he was.

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You had a decent up bringing growing up, didn’t struggle academically and you weren’t bad looking but you weren’t good looking either. Just plain. No one paid much mind to you in middle school.

It was completely fine with you, no drama, no names to remember, and no one to pick on you. You could honestly say you enjoyed it.

No one bothered you up until you hit puberty, you noticed almost immediately that people started treating you differently. It was strange at first, getting used to everyone trying to butter you up for one thing only.

You didn’t see much of an issue because you didn’t care, you didn’t see virginity as a big deal either. Now you weren’t a hoe or passed around, you just had sexual relations with whomever.

You were pretty ecstatic about going to college you had aspirations and dreams, that dream job wasn’t going to be easy. You needed to have a proper education and a little experience in that field before you even tried.

It was also well known in college that you get to sleep around with whoever you want and receive no consequences.

But never raw, you definitely weren’t trying to get pregnant before your life properly started. You applauded the women who did have babies this early in life and still make something of themselves but you could barely take care of yourself on a daily let alone a whole other little human.

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You sat there in the middle row of the lecture, bored out of your mind. You stared at the chalkboard and occasionally glanced down at your notebook to doodle or something to make it appear you were paying attention. It was just an extra class you were forced to do for extra credits before the end of the semester.

Leon on the other hand was sat in the back row of that same class, he somehow managed to weasel his way into the same extracurricular as you so he could spy on you, a feeling of unease brewing in his belly as he watched you.

He didn’t trust you, he didn’t think you were a whore. That’s kinda hypocritical of him but he was put off by your presence. Maybe a little bit jealous of you and how you managed to make a name for yourself. It was almost like he was challenging you mentally. A challenge you yourself wasn’t even aware of.

He glanced up at the clock when he noticed people getting up, he collected his stuff immediately and quietly followed behind you. Leon felt like he was being a bit stalker ish but he wanted answers. Plus it’s not like he was doing it to be a pervert.

He watched as you met up with some friends to go study in the library, obviously he was still shadowing you from afar. His nose shoved inside a book in the far corner in the library but close enough to spy on you from a distance.

He didn’t gain much information, you were hard working with a flirtatious personality, it was kind of hard for him to gather anything from this. But he overheard you and your friends talking about going to a party, his head perked up a bit like a dog smelling a delicious treat.

He wasn’t sure why but he felt this strange feeling wash over him, could he confront you there? But why was he trying to confront you? In all honesty he wasn’t sure, he just knew that he was jealous and scared that he would become a nobody again.

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You and your friends spoke happily about the most random stuff, like who got who pregnant, followed by did you see this new show? The topics never truly stayed on one solid one unless the whole group had a deep connection to it.

So it didn’t surprise you that a party happening later that night was mentioned. “It’s a costume party?” You asked curiously and your friend chuckled and nudged you with her elbow. “Oh my god, like yeah. Obviously. It’s halloween.” Ashley giggled and the rest of them did too.

“That’s so lame.” You murmured, twirling your pencil around in your hand. “Like.. this is the start of a bad hallmark movie or something.” You said as your lips pulled up into a thin line.

Your friends shrugged and they obviously knew you would go anyways, you glanced around the library per usual. Something you did just as a random habit and you spotted someone looking at you.

You frowned a bit as you watched the guy look away and bury his face back in his book. How strange? “What a weirdo.” Your friend, Jill, spoke up and it startled you a bit. “Huh?” You turned back to her and she stared at the guy before looking back at you.

“Do you know him?” She asked and you shook your head no. “Yeah.. I thought so. He kept glancing over here and I thought it was all in my head.” Jill mumbled softly as if to keep it between the both of you. With a nod of agreement from you Jill joined back into the conversation.

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Leon on the other hand was burning red in embarrassment, you had looked right at him and made a face. Now he looked creepy. He should just leave the library now or something, anything! But he stayed glued to his seat, straining his ears to eavesdrop on your table.

After a while he watched you all get up and leave, he sighed softly and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nice going, Kennedy. You’ve outdone yourself and now you look like a creep.” He muttered in annoyance.

He quickly packed his stuff up and exited the library, shooting his friends a quick text before heading towards his dorm. He needed a Halloween costume now.

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Halloween shopping didn’t take long for your group of friends. All of you got ready in Claire’s dorm because it was spacious and she was the one who got the best one because rumor had it her brother fucked one of the deans for special privileges and Claire used it as blackmail for herself.

Everyone in that dorm knew it was far from the truth, she was just a good student and because of that she got special treatment alongside Chris.

Ashley was busy doing her makeup when she looked over at you who was staring at the costume you had got. “You okay?” She asked and you turned around to look at her. It was obvious to everyone she would go as Harley Quinn. It suited her. Is what you thought before responding.

“I’m questioning if this is too much.” You responded and Jill perked up. “Definitely not. It’s actually beneficial because it’ll probably be super hot at that party so the less clothes the better.” She murmured mindlessly as she put on her realistic wig..

Ashley and Claire glanced over at Jill before bursting out in a fit of giggles. “This is why we keep Jill on a high pedestal. She’s like super smart and pretty. It’s a two for one.” Ashley grinned and you chuckled softly.

Claire slung her arm over your shoulder and tugged you close. “Besides you’ll be matching with me, and y’know if someone bothers you and you don’t want them Chris will stand up for us.” She pinched your cheek gently and you swatted her hand away with a whine.

“Fine, you have a point.” You relented with raised hands as if you surrender. Claire smiled and grabbed her costume to change into.

Ashley put her hair up into two pigtails and grabbed the spray of temporary hair dye. “So.. Luis is going to be there.” She beamed, and everyone in the room rolled their eyes. “Ashley, you are such a simp for him.” Claire huffed and you and Jill nodded in agreement.

“Okay well it’s not my fault okay! It’s gotta be his stupid accent.” Ashley grumbled softly, pouting as she did so. When she turned around after staring at the vanity mirror for so long she smiled seeing everyone in their costumes.

Jill is Tiffany Valentine from the Chucky franchise, Ashley is Harley Quinn from the DC franchise, Claire is Starfire, and you are Raven.

You purse your lips as you hold the cape up between your fingertips. “You know for the longest time I had no idea what she was saying.” You admitted and everyone but Jill agreed. “You didn’t watch it with subtitles?” She laughed and you shook your head no with a grin.

“I thought she was just speaking gibberish.” You said and it just made everyone laugh harder as they gathered their things to get ready to leave. “Yeah because they would make one of their main characters speak gibberish everytime she used her powers.” Claire teased and you turned red with embarrassment but also laughter as you all walked out the door.

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Leon on the other hand was pre gaming in his dorm room with his friends, Carlos, Chris, and Luis. “Dude you know how many hot chicks are going to be there?” Chris murmured as he slipped into a brown jacket, pulling gloves onto his hands while searching for his Jason Vorhees mask.

“I'm definitely scoring tonight.” Carlos said as he messed with his hair, a soft hum leaving his lips. Leon shrugged, not very interested in hooking up with anybody. He was more interested in trying to one up you.

Luis sat next to Leon on the couch and stared at him for a second. “¿Qué pasa, Sancho?” He asked, tilting his head at the blonde who seemed to be anxious. “Nothing. Just.. thinking. I guess.” He replied, rubbing his nape.

Luis cocked his eyebrow up and narrowed his eyes at Leon suspiciously. “Well, whatever it is. I’m here if you wanna talk.” He assured, placing his hand on Leon’s shoulder. Leon nodded and grabbed his Ghostface mask.

“Are we all ready?” Chris asked as Carlos was putting on his gloves with fake claws on them. He had the signature Freddy Krueger colors on while Luis had the iconic blue jumpsuit and Michael Myers mask. Once everyone was ready they set off to the party, Leon swallowed anxiously under his mask.

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The first thing you were met with when you entered the frat house was a mess, a mess of drunk and high people. You made a face at the smell of sweat and sex filling the air. Have some decorum people. You grimaced as you were dragged through the party.

Somehow ending up in the living room with everyone in your friend group. “They have coke! Oh my gosh, I’ve like totally wanted to try it.” Ashley beamed and grabbed you. “C’mon let’s all do a line, when’s the next time you’ll be offered coke or something. We’ll be all old with wrinkles.” Ashley whined, trying to convince Claire and Jill who sighed and reluctantly agreed.

“Okay but doesn’t this like burn?” You questioned.

“What? Like Molly?” Ashley raised her eyebrow.

“No—Like doesn’t it burn your nostrils?” You raised an eyebrow back at her.

Jill sighed and picked up a straw that was on the table along with random lines of coke on the glass surface while you and Ashley argued over something as tedious as whether it’ll go down smoothly.

Claire followed in pursuit of Jill and did a line too, squeezing her eyes shut as she sniffled. “Jeez, that shit is strong..” She muttered as she pinched her nostrils, Jill nodded heavily in agreement.

“I forgot you’re the fucking coke queen of America. That’s my bad.” You huffed softly.

Ashley rolled her eyes and went to reach for a straw for you only to see Claire and Jill holding them. “You guys did it without us!!” She complained and you just sighed.

“Ash, we can just do a line right now.” You murmured which seemed to calm her down enough to keep her tantrum at bay. She holds your hand and leans down in sync with you as you both snorted a line.

At the same time you both did, Leon and his goon squad arrived at the party and everyone started cheering. Garnering the attention of all of you kneeled at the table.

You wiped away the residue on your nose and sniffled, narrowing your eyes at Leon for a second as he put on his Ghostface mask and his face was hidden again. He looked.. familiar.

You tried to ponder where you saw him at, but you just shrugged it off. Whatever. Probably nowhere.

Jill glanced over at Chris a few times while Claire was eyeing Carlos. Ashley immediately bounced up and was about to scurry over to Luis. You grabbed onto her wrist before she could run off.

“Ashley! Are you seriously ditching us for Luis?” You stared at her, trying to gauge her reaction.

“What? Noo—I would definitely not. ‘M just being friendly. I’ll totally come back.” She replied in her usual manner, which gave away that she was lying. You reluctantly let her go and she scurried off.

You sighed heavily as you watched Claire and Jill give each other a knowing look. “You guys too?!” You groaned out and they gave you a sheepish smile. “We’ll come back, we have our phones on sound and we’ll all go home together.” Jill assured, placing her hand on your thigh.

“You guys hate me.” You frowned with a slight pout and Claire pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Pinky promise we’ll come back.” She whispered and you took her pinky in your own. “Okay. Promise.” You sighed out.

Then you watched Claire and Jill disappear, probably to go curl up with Chris and Carlos. You weren’t very amused, the only reason you came was to hang out with them but Leon and his stupid friends came and ruined it.

Whatever. Least you had some entertainment, the coke on the table and the promise of alcohol.

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Leon smirked as he entered the party, he knew he was hot shit. But that lingering fear that he would be some name in the past still brewed within him. Which is why he agreed to tag along. The only question was where were you?

He sauntered deeper into the party with his friends until one by one they were plucked away by girls he recognized from your friend group. He pursed his lips beneath his mask, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he glanced around.

It’s as if fate itself had its way of showing itself as you stumbled into the kitchen, not dressed in much. His eyes widened in surprise as you walked to the punch bowl that was probably spiked by now and got yourself a cup of juice.

He watched from the corner of his eye in awe as you licked the rim of the cup to clean the few drops of juice you got on the side of the cup. He gulped and chastised himself, no he wasn’t supposed to be staring at you like some lovesick maniac. He was trying to prove himself tonight.

He would plow through so much pussy tonight it would leave you behind in the dust. Or at least that’s what he hoped.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

As the night lingered on you got more wasted to forget about the fact you got ditched for some dick. You couldn’t say you were surprised and honestly you were contemplating getting laid. But there was something uneasy about tonight.

Every room you slowly made your way into you saw some guy in the Ghostface costume making out with some girl, borderline groping each other over their clothes. At first you thought it was different guys until you got a good look at the face of the man behind the mask twice to realize it was the same guy with different girls each time. Weirdo. Is all you thought but you were smart enough to remember some guys have a game to see who can get the most kisses, hook ups, blowjobs in one night.

Leon on one hand was shocked each time you walked past him like it was nothing, like you just didn’t care. He was sure he could fuck some girl in front of everyone and you wouldn’t pay them any mind. What the hell?

With a growl he was determined to get your attention somehow, it didn’t even register that he was doing all this for your attention. His body reacting on pure instinct as he broke away from the kiss with the girl. A brief apology as he excused himself. Chasing after you as you drunkenly stumbled back to the kitchen.

He stood at a distance watching you rummage through the fridge. “All my friends hate me, oh my god.” You mumbled under your breath as you found nothing to satisfy your hungry belly. A soft pout on your expression until some guy pressed up against you from behind.

You paused for a second before you stood up straight and turned around to see some random guy in a batman costume staring down at you. “Uhm, hello.” You say as he leans down to inspect your costume. “Oh okay. Just go on ahead—“

“Raven? From Teen Titans?” He asked as his eyes met your own again.

“Oh yeah, my friend and I dressed as Raven and Starfire.” You slurred a bit as he rubbed his thumb over your chin. “Oh—Hellooo.” You giggled as the guy placed his other hand on your hip.

“We’re from the same franchise. I think your costume looks really cool.. I’m Brandon” He uttered softly, leaning down to brush his lips against yours and you eagerly reciprocated, whispering your own name into the kiss. You had plans starting to form in your head to go back with this guy to his dorm and hook up with him.

Well, you did at least plan to leave with him. But no way in hell was Leon going to let that happen. He stormed over, his angry expression hidden behind the Ghostface mask, he cleared his throat and tugged you away from the guy.

He glanced between you and the guy in his stupid batman costume. When he realized what he had done he immediately lied on the spot, blurting the first name of your friend that came to mind. “Ashley! Erm—Ashley asked if you could come help her with something.”

You blinked a few times as you processed what was said, realizing that the guy behind the Ghostface costume must know Ashley, which didn’t surprise you. “Oh.”

You bit on your bottom lip and glanced at Brandon. “Sorry. My friend needs me.” You replied and latched onto Leon’s arm. “Lead the way.” You hiccuped.

Leon immediately walked off with you, feeling a sense of pride at the knowledge he ruined that moment for you. Yet when he looked down at your face you didn’t seem to mind, in fact you seemed more worried about your friend.

Leon guided you out the party, letting the fresh air overcome him and you. He didn’t realize how hot it was inside until he stepped outside with you.

“Wait. She left the party?” You stopped in your tracks and gently tugged on Leon’s arm.

“What?” He said, confusion laced in his tone before he remembered the lie he uttered. “Oh yeah—yeah. She uhm, left to go with him but she told him to tell me you needed her.”

You didn’t seem to question him any further, which was a relief for him because he wasn’t sure how much more he could lie as he guided you back to the dorms. More specifically his.

What the fuck am I doing?

Why did I care so much that she was going to kiss some random dude?

Why am I taking her back to my dorm?

I should’ve been on my fourth hook up tonight and yet I haven’t touched any naked body yet.

Leon’s mind raced as he unlocked the door and guided you inside, closing the door behind him and locking it as you called out for Ashley.

“Ashley! Ugh I swear if it’s not something important and you made me miss out on the opportunity to get laid I’m gonna murder you!” You groaned out as you stumbled in your platformed boots; which in theory are horrible to wear while being wasted.

Leon pulled his mask off and tossed it onto his couch, wiping the sweat from his brow before he followed after you, grabbing hold of your wrist to turn you around towards him gently.

“Ew your hands are like.. gross and sweaty.” You made a face of disgust and his nose scrunched up in annoyance.

“Okay that’s a bit rude.” He huffed and looked at you, he would finally be able to see you for you at this moment. It suddenly hit him.

You’re not competition, obviously not if you’re not bragging about your hook up to him, rather your friend who definitely isn’t here.

Hell, you’re just a girl. A girl who he’s jealous of for no reason.

A girl who’s.. really fucking pretty?

His eyes widened as he came to the realization that it wasn’t anger at being replaced, it wasn’t jealousy of hearing your name being uttered time and time again instead of his.

No, that's stupid. I’ll see if she’s really as good as everyone says she is. He was determined to see what was so special about you.

Your nose scrunched up as if mimicking his own expression as you could see different emotions ran across his face. “Uhm hello?—“ You went to wave your hand in front of his eyes when he tightened his grip on you and pulled you in for a kiss with force. Such force that you stumbled.

A quick lie running out of his mouth smoothly as he cupped your face in his hands. “I lied, Ashley didn’t call you here.. I just have such a big crush on you and didn’t know how to express it.” He breathed out as your tongue ran over his bottom lip.

You, to his surprise, didn’t fight back or protest the kiss. You seemed to encourage it more than anything.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s kinda sly of you..” You remarked as you pulled back from the kiss, your lipstick smeared on his soft plump ones. You brought your thumb up to his bottom lip and wiped away as much as you could.

“So what’s your name you big stud.” You teased in a drunken tone, Leon bit his bottom lip and ducked down to capture your lips again. “Leon.” He muttered into the kiss, slowly guiding you to his room with careful steps.

He could tell you were getting tired of how slow he was moving so he patted your thigh to encourage you to hop up. Once you did he grabbed the back of your legs and held you firmly against him, your lips not parting from his own as he stumbled into his bedroom.

He dropped you down onto the bed and finally pulled away. “I have to turn on the lamp..” He mumbled quietly as he reached off to the side to flick the light on. The moonlight helped to illuminate the parts of the room the light didn’t reach fully.

When he looked down at you he felt his heart rate increase. “Fuck.” He cursed and you just smiled at the sight above you.

You reached your hand up to move his hair out of his face. “What? Think I’m pretty or something?” You asked and he nodded, a soft giggle leaving your precious lips.

So precious. He thought as he pressed his left palm above your head against the bed while his other hand came up to cup and fondle your breast above your costume.

You managed to kick your boots off somehow, leaning back against the bed comfortably. “Well that’s sweet of you. I think you’re quite handsome.” You replied as your hair laid spread out behind you.

Leon hesitated for a second, what does he do now? He’s been hooking up with people for awhile now and for once in his life he’s stunned on what to do next. He opens his mouth to speak but all that comes out is a soft moan as you drag his hand up to your mouth to suck on his thumb.

“Hah.. you’re good at that hm?” He cooed, pressing his thumb down against your tongue. With a soft hum from you he adjusted the way he was hovering above you so he could use both hands instead of one.

He dragged his left hand down your torso right down to your pussy, he could feel the heat radiating off of such an intimate part of you. This made his cock throb with want as he pushed the crotch of your costume to the side.

“I guess this costume is pretty much easy access..” He spoke his inner thoughts aloud, watching you blush beneath his watchful gaze before his fingertip brushed against your clit.

You mewled softly and brought your hands up to paw at his chest, wanting his costume off but he clicked his tongue. “Patience. Good things come to those who wait.” He scolded you lightly and gave you a shit eating grin as you frowned.

“You’re like a delicacy.” He explained, rubbing his middle and ring finger through your folds before prodding them against your hole. “You must be handled with care.” He punctuated his words by shoving his fingers inside of you.

You gasped and your back arched off the bed a little. “O-Oh fuck. That feels good.. your fingers are so thick.” You whimpered around his thumb, he snickered softly and pulled his thumb away from your mouth, pressing the wet digit against your clit to rub hard and fast circles against the sensitive little bud while his other hand moved in tandem by fucking his fingers in and out of you.

A slick squelching sound resounding through the room followed by lewd moans coming from you. Who would’ve thought having sex while being high on coke made everything feel ten times better?

“Leon.” You whined softly as your walls clenched down tightly around his fingers. “You’re g’nna make me cum..”

Leon just shrugged and leaned down to nip at your neck. “And? That’s what you want, right baby?” He whispered directly in your ear, sucking on your earlobe. He let out a low chuckle as you cried out a soft yes.

He doubled down on his efforts and you swore you saw stars, definitely. You squealed softly as your orgasm crashed down onto your body like a truck, your cheeks and the tips of your ears turning red and hot with arousal.

“There’s we go. That’s my girl.” He lapped at the pulse point on your neck as you settled down from your high, he took the opportunity to strip himself of his clothes but not before getting a taste of what he was going to be indulging in.

He brought his fingers up to his mouth and swirled his tongue around his own digits, sighing softly as he tasted the sweet essence that he had coaxed out of you.

“God. That shits perfect.” Leon bit his bottom lip as he began to remove his clothes, eyeing you hungrily as his cock sprung up into view.

You mumbled something before sitting up on your elbows, your mouth almost instantly watering at the sight of his dick. “Woah.” You blinked a few times before reaching out to touch.

Accidentally grabbing it too hard made Leon hiss in pleasure. “God damn. Easy baby.” He groaned out, and you winced out a soft apology, letting him guide your hand to be the perfect pressure and pace for him to get off on.

“Wait..” You said suddenly which made Leon pause, staring down at you questioningly. “Can you get your uh.. the mask.” You asked coyly, twirling a strand of your hair around your finger slyly as it registered what you wanted in his head.

“Sure thing.” He chuckled and patted your cheek, disappearing for a second before returning with the mask on his head. You grinned wickedly as he stood near the edge of his bed.

“How do I look—“ He was cut off by you yanking him down onto the bed, straddling him as you smirked. “I’m gonna absolutely ravish you.” You sighed out softly, having already removed your clothes when he stepped out the room.

Leon was quite stunned at the 360 shift in attitude. You were just crying on his fingers a few seconds ago and now you’re practically pinning him down. He placed his hands on your thighs, gently rubbing his thumbs against your soft skin.

“Yeah? What if I want to ravish you?” He retorted and you leaned down to press your bare chest against his own, “You could try.” You slurred quietly, but as the hours went on the more you slightly sobered up.

“Guess I’ll have to try super hard then.” He whispered softly as he grabbed his cock, rubbing the tip of it through your folds with a soft hum. You bit your bottom lip as you eventually sank down on him, the two releasing a soft moan in sync with each other.

It didn’t take long for Leon to start bouncing you on his cock as you rode him with an eager pace, it seems the mask was doing things for you that you yourself weren’t even aware would do.

The wet sounds between the two resounding through the room as skin on skin slapping against each other blended into the mix. “Fuck, you’re so tight.. ‘n wet.. ‘n warm.” He whined, fingers digging into your plush thighs as he bucked his hips up into you.

You nodded in acknowledgment. Your eyes fluttered shut as you could feel that coil in your gut tightening with each thrust and bounce. You knew you were close and so did Leon. “I’m almost there.” He panted out, gulping beneath the mask which was starting to prove to be extremely hot. He was sure he had sweat all over his face and head, if he was to remove the mask he was 99% sure that his hair would be thoroughly damp.

Yet if he could get girls to ride him as crazy and as good as you do he would wear it for every hookup encounter he ever had.

You reached your hands up to start punching and twisting your nipples, fondling your tits to tease him. He grunted loudly as he watched you with bated breath. “Fuck, keep playing with yourself like that. Touch that pretty little clit of yours too.” He gritted out as you did so, causing your walls to clamp down tightly around his cock.

Your jaw dropped as his cock brushed against that spongy spot inside of you that never failed to give you chills. “I-I can’t hold it..” You cried out, hand still moving quickly against your clit. Leon could see your chest rising and falling quickly and he was just a few seconds away from spilling his own seed.

“I know. W-Where do you want it?” He uttered aloud, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head back against his bed. “Mm. Inside, please.” You whined, bucking your hips eagerly.

Leon's eyes shot open and his head shot up to stare at you. “Fuck.. that’s so hot. Are you sure?” He was a bit nervous and didn’t want to cum inside of you if you weren’t 100% sure.

With an eager nod you spoke once more. “Yes! God, please! Inside of me, Leon.” You insisted, throwing your head back in pleasure as he thrusted a couple more times before pulling your hips flush against his own, he came before you did and it only took a few quick rubs from you before your orgasm hit you once more.

You practically collapsed on top of him with a heavy breath, resting your head on his chest as he moved his hands up to pull the mask off, finally being free of the sweaty contraption. He wrapped both his arms around you as his cock started to soften within your warm wet walls.

Fuck. He had to admit that the people were right about you being a good fuck.

Especially when you looked up at him with that soft smile but your eyes told a different story as you wiggled your hips a bit, it’s as if he didn’t even start to soften to begin with as he was fully hard within seconds.

Guess he was in for a long night, just as long as you don’t hear the incessant buzzing coming from your phone that was discarded on his nightstand haphazardly from your friends.

[cursedcatvibes]

okay so like not tumblr hating me and eating some of my asks?? if i haven’t responded to any i promise i don’t hate you!! i love answering questions 😖

[cursedcatvibes]

LOTUS FLOWER??!?!?!??!?

the baby angelina 🥰🥰 no but neighbor x leon seems like such a good plot

i think you broke my writers block wtaf 😭😭 running away to write atm

we should be friends <333

oh my goshhh hello my inbox has not been sending me any asks :( i’m so sorry my love, i am 100% for being friends!

AGHH literally baby angie and single dad leon have my heart and soul.. i need to be more active on here.

[cursedcatvibes]

I miss you😞 how are you?

hii my lovely :( oh em gee like i’ve been doing alright i have not had the creative energy for a hot little second, i have like 3 stories drafted but they don’t look right? the plot is low-key kinda ass but thank you for checking in on me :3

[cursedcatvibes]

When I read that reader said Leon was small in incel Leon, I had a tad bit of doubt at her words but then I remembered Leon was being a bitch to us the whole time. 😔😔

yes i actually fear that he was being a straight bitch the whole time :( i had no idea on if i should make him have a whole horse in his pants or a small little one, thought why not make him average and boring

thank you for the ask baby! <3

[cursedcatvibes]

MASTERLIST

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All my current fics so far!

Small note, light blue means smut, pink means fluff, and red means angst! Happy Reading my darlings <3

Resident Evil ^^

Leon Kennedy

SWEET BELIEFS

WORLD RECORD!

KILLSHOT!

LOTUS FLOWER

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WIP

[cursedcatvibes]

emo, goth, and fuckboy leon all have my heart and soul :( like i need him in my guts immediately..

hopeless romantic

[cursedcatvibes]

oh my gosh, this is so good.. like the emotions and the fucking GIF OF THE BITING TOO. the heart being a gift and so forth..

i absolutely adore this fic so much ^^ it was nicely paced and the smut was so.. *mwah*. thank you for blessing us with this masterpiece.

The Beauty of Embalmment.

re2r neighbour leon kennedy x vampire fem reader

cw: 18+, biting, blood kink, stalking, cannibalistic thoughts, necrophilia, gore, weird stuff, dick biting, just lots of biting, marking, p in v, forced orgasm, mentions of self harm, virginity loss, leon’s 27 but re2, reader is 30, reader is really weird and icky, dead fucking dove guys seriously it’s gross and all of that so mind what you read!

Cold and dark. This was your type of night, surrounded in the stench of decay in a room where only a faint buzz would emerge and abolish the silence. You’d open a fridge, stare quite blankly at the feet of someone with a tag hooked to their toe. This was a man, you’d only gotten him yesterday. He could do with a little bit of… corrupting, as they’d say.

Pulling his tray you guided him to the middle of the room, washing your hands in the sink, nails razor sharp before covering them with blue gloves. You had thought about filing them down, after all scratches leave DNA, DNA leads to evidence and that leads to jail time. Oh well, as long as you got your fill there as well.

See, the life long dream you had was to become a surgeon. Cut into bodies and remove abscesses and all those types of bits and bobs but luck was never on your side because you were a little different or a lot and who would ever trust a leech near a body? So instead, you became a mortician. There’s no point in trying to feast on a corpse, there’s a word for it but what’s it called… rigor mortis? No, not that one. You had studied it in forensics so long ago. Livor mortis, that’s the one. Blood didn’t taste good post-lividity, just bland and bitter and you were picky.

Being a vampire meant nobody in the world was attracted to you, that’s why you undressed corpses and touched their cold bodies. You covered their face for their diginity (?) more like to satiate your delusions that you were a better person.

This guy, you’d looked at his name on the tag, Edward with a long surname that you couldn’t be bothered reading. Hm, he was a little green settling into bacteria, scrawny and lifeless. His body stiff but to your dismay his dick was flaccid, and small. And ugly. It looked like a worm, but you’d have to make do. You stroked it, feeling no sense of arousal because he wasn’t packing many inches! You liked a big dick, or even average. Edward was perhaps… four inches?

“Edward, you must’ve had little women on your dick.” You mumbled dazed, you were kind of angry at him. Why was he so small? You hated it. You retracted your hand and pulled the cover off of his face, he was cute. Must’ve been Balkan, his nose was big. Maybe the saying was false, because his dick wasn’t much. “You need to be punished, Edward.”

You’d reached into your coat, pulling out a pretty pocket knife the blade rusted slightly. You’d used this a few times as a teenager, mutiliating your wrists because it looked nice and you liked the taste of your own blood. Then on some corpses, just like right now. You moved back towards the phallus, pressing the sharp edge of the knife against his foreskin and digging deep, sliding down. His blood flow was halted so it oozed out in a way you didn’t enjoy.

But his dick opened like a lotus flower blooming the more you cut into it, you observed the muscles and how limp they looked. This man was a mistake, he deserved to die. Half an hour in, you’d searched every nook and cranny until you were bored and he was unrecognisable — his organs hanging out, your pocket knife gripped in your hands as you slid down against the wall and brought it to your lips.

Just taste good, for once. You were hungry. Starving. Your tongue darted out and swiped across the blade, eyebrows frowning at the bitterness. The blood was clotting and thick, you much preferred the smooth silky texture of an alive person’s one. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. You packed everything up and went back to your gloomy apartment where you wallowed in self-pity.

You needed wanted blood. And dick. Good dick.

Oh, hail to the universe. The guy you were looking at, he was just… delectable. Could you say that? Boyish, strong-looking and alive. He wasn’t too pale, he looked warm. Mm. Warm blood. His thick forearms were straining as he held boxes, he was your new neighbour. You just stared at him while standing in the doorway of your apartment. Thick veins, more blood. Pulse, pulse, pulse. Your pussy was screaming in her panties, she wanted that boy.

You couldn’t describe how you felt, he was tall but not too tall, his hair was soft-looking and a pretty colour of dirty blonde with eyes resembling an azure sky. But what got you the most, apart from how warm he looked, was his sharp features. A bump on the bridge of his upturned nose and brows bushy yet groomed, his jawline chiseled. Perfect. God, you wanted to po—

“Hey there, mind opening the door for me please? My hands are in a bunch.” He said to you. He spoke to you. The fucking psycho who got off to dead bodies because she was so miserable in her own despondency. You watched his face contort intoperplexion, waiting for you to respond instead of standing there like a shunned fish. “Or… not.”

“No I can.” You rasped, scurrying in front of him and twisting the knob open. He smiled, a lively look in his pretty eyes. Life. Not dead. Not empty and dull. Not smelly. He smelt good. Oh, so good. Heightened senses meant you could smell the sweet coppery scent of his blood mixed with his odor of… maybe pine? Cherry? Nah, it was like citrus. Like Mountain Dew. He walked into his apartment and dropped the boxes, wiping his glistening forehead.

“Hey, thanks. You’re my neighbour right?” Leon asked with a tilt of his head, he could tell you were a bit weird and initially he took the hint that maybe you were austistic with the way you lacked social skills. Oh, that’s mean and downright disrespectful. He took it back. You were pretty though, something about you. He didn’t know what though.

Nod. Nod. Nod. Almost too eagerly, you cursed yourself but you didn’t fucking care! You wanted his blood, his body, all of him. And if he didn’t want you, then it’s alright. Straight to the morgue. Unless…

Unless say, he magically died and ended up in your care? Though you hoped he wouldn’t be as small as Edward. You know what they say about white guys. You heard him speak again but you honestly weren’t paying much attention.

Eon. Your expression became bashful, your brain was fried. You needed blood. Eon? Oh. Leon.

“Leon? Nice. I like that.” You blurted out and gave him a once-over, and he flushed. He wasn’t good with women. Especially forward ones. It’s the way you stared at him. “I like your name. Do you want help?”

“I mean, with unpacking? Yes, please.” He replied, watching as you moved to inspect his boxes. He followed after you, doing the same. It was a little awkward if he was being perfectly honest because whenever he looked at you, you weren’t looking. You were thinking. But what were you thinking about? Who were you? Why were you so surreal?

“So… have you lived here a while?” Leon asked, grabbing numerous glass cups and shoving them into a cupboard. He wasn’t a neat freak, he just wanted things out of the way. He noticed you took more time observing his items then actually putting them away. Weird…

“Born and raised. It’s a bad town, too subfusc. Did you notice it lacks bars everywhere? It’s industrial, cold and depressing.” You replied with a shrug, the next item you held was a frame. Of Leon. Must’ve been his graduate photo, with the outfit and all as you ran your index finger down the line of his face. Sharp nail grazing the glass. So pretty. So handsome. He had the type of head you’d hang on your wall.

Leon listened to you, yeah, you were weird. But he chuckled. It was kind of endearing. He hoped you’d put the photo away though, that’s when he had acne and his eyebrows were hairy. A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t look at that, shouldn’t see the bad phases. “Really? And here I was thinking it was the perfect vacation spot.”

No laugh. As expected, he sucked at jokes. But you were just so focused on the photo, only the slightest little hint of a crooked smile appearing. He watched you shake your head, finally meeting his gaze.

“No, it’s horrible. Even this apartment, my pet bunny got dismembered by teenagers three years ago. On Halloween. So I don’t celebrate it anymore in honour of Mrs. Tinkel.” Oh, there it was. You watched the discomfort creep onto his expression. Maybe, if you were a little smarter, you would of kept that to yourself but hunger meant stupidity. Blood kept you sane. Sort of. If you could even keep an insane person sane.

“That’s… um, wow.” Leon breathed, clearing his throat. Maybe it was best to end the topic because you’d turned away and eventually most of the house was done. He thanked you for your help and closed the door once you exited. You still wanted his attention though, you debated cutting open your wrist like old times just so he could pamper you. But you didn’t. You figured he was creeped out enough.

That day plagued your mind for the following week, you worked night shifts only — hey, how else can you make it through as a nocturnal? So every evening, you rugged up, left your apartment but with the new addition, you’d stand right outside Leon’s door for a minute or two and stare. Just stare. Then you’d walk away and take several trains to the morgue. Do your deed, go home, sleep and repeat.

But during the day? Apart from a short nap, you started to watch over Leon. It was compulsive, you weren’t bored at all like normal. Your heart didn’t feel so cold, unless of course you weren’t watching him. Everything he did, you were writing it down in your brain, at the beginning it was just watching him through the window.

Although recently you started walking behind him in public spaces, taking photos with your flip phone. Yeah, they were grainy and kinda shit but you couldn’t be bothered upgrading it’s not like you cared about the media at all. If your eyes had good vision, why would you need a camera?

What bothered you was how Leon hardly spoke to you apart from the occasional greeting, was he really that pressed when you’d told him about your bunny? It’s not like you dismembered the poor thing. Some sicko did. See, you weren’t a sicko even if you harassed dead bodies. You were just… curious? Hungry? Dahdahdah, who cares. You needed to find a way to get him to speak to you again, and a rather silly idea popped into your head.

When the sun went down you journeyed off to the morgue and moved into the cold room, flicking through the fridges. You had so many goddamn females and with what you were planning, that simply would not work. The only male you had in stock was no other than fucking… small-dicked Edward. You shoved door open and pulled the trolley out, washing and gloving your hands before grabbing your trusty best friend.

The squelches that resonated from the corpse when you sliced into his chest accompanied that buzzing noise, the laceration splitting open wide until you saw his ribcage. You brought your fist down onto the fairly weakened bone and punched, again and again and again. The crunching was so… comforting. You severed the aorta carelessly and then shoved your hand into his chest, ripping the heart out.

You’d box it up, make it all nice and pretty and write a HEART warming letter. If Leon would, mind the smell, that is. You were eager, desperate at this point, you squeezed the organ a bit in your hands before moving to properly wash it. Hey, at least you were considerate.

And the very next day you knocked on Leon’s door, to your surprise he answered quickly. Yeah, you could have orgasmed right then and there. He had sweats on with a small towel draped over his shoulders, his hair slightly damp and he smelled as good as he always did. You quite literally resisted the urge to pounce on him.

“I got you a present. A gift.”

Leon’s eyebrow raised, looking down at the box in your hands. You’d need a lesson or two on learning how to wrap ribbons, but he was no expert himself. Props to you. He smiled. “You didn’t have to.”

You did. You did. You absolutely did.

He opened the door a little wider, ushering you inside with a wave of his hand. Large, calloused. You wanted to sink your fangs into his fingers. Nibble on his flesh, you imagined how good he’d taste. Fresh meat. But he was too perfect to die.

When you’d made yourself comfortable on his couch you handed him the gift with a smile that didn’t quite your eyes, you avoided toothy grins so that you didn’t need to deal with the inevitable consequence of people freaking out at the sight of your canines.

“Read the card first.” You muttered quickly, he needed to understand that you weren’t were insane. Just loving. And caring. And thoughtful. Leon nodded, pressing his lips together as he fingered the card and opened it up.

I am only responsible for my own heart, you offered yours up for the smashing, my darling. Only a fool would give up such a vital organ.

You every reaction he made, which was mostly a sense of mystification. But hey, no negatives so far. Your noticed a pain in your palm from how hard your nails were digging into the skin. Were you really this anxious?

“Wow, that’s uh…” Leon began with a dry chuckle, looking at you briefly before putting the note down and opening the box.

His eyes went wide. Not in the best way. You frowned, no; he has to like it. You did it all so he could like it. But he was frozen. Why was he frozen? After all the effort you put into it? Was he ungrateful? Did you read the signs wrong? It’s just an organ. Just an organ. A vital one.

“What… the hell?”

“It’s a heart.”

“I can see that.”

You tilted your head, you loved him. This wasn’t just some obsession. You felt a warmth around him.

“It’s clean. I didn’t murder someone,” You figured it’d be important to mention that. Though, would mutiliating a dead body be considered unlawful killing? Whatever. You moved to him, pushing the box to the ground. Baring your teeth, he gasped lightly at the sight of your fangs. Razor sharp, like your claws. “Nobody could ever love you like I can, Leon. You’re all I think about, all I know. I’m not dangerous, I just want a taste.”

“A taste? You’re—“ He tried, but was quickly interrupted when he felt your hot breath ghosting across his neck. He internally slapped himself, every woman he met was a bit cuckoo in some sort of way but why did he feel a pulse in his pants? It had to be some natural reaction because A: you happened to be attractive. B: You smelt nice. C: You were close to him. “God, you’re not going to kill me are you?”

“Taste.” You whispered, hand pressing onto his knee to keep him grounded. “It’ll hurt.” You sunk your fangs beside the two bite-shaped moles near his adam’s apple, his body convulsed as he groaned and attempted to push you off for a moment. No, you really were glued like a leech as you retracted your teeth and licked the blood.

Oh, it had to be the sweetest you’ve ever had. Your pupils dilated, blowing out your iris as Leon panted. He didn’t know why he was letting you do this, you were clearly a bit mental but at the same time… maybe he liked it, just a little bit. Old virgin boy like him was quite the pervert behind closed doors, so he let you mark him. His shoulders, chest, thick biceps, fingers, anywhere you could name.

“You’re draining me.” He whispered, blue eyes narrowed as he watched you crawl down his body. His dick was so hard it hurt and you gazed at it like you were starstruck.

“You taste too good.” You mumbled, fingers hooking into his sweatpants and underwear and shoving them down to his knees. He jolted, feeling the cold air hit his cock like a miasma. You were convinced you’d won the lottery at this point, he wasn’t small. His girth really got you going, so much flesh to play with that you weren’t feeling so tedious anymore.

Your lips were a little red from the blood as you lapped at the head of his cock, his thighs visibly tensing. He’d never felt something like that and mark him the biggest liar if he claimed to hate it, the way you swirled around his frenulum like you knew what you were doing. Although, thoughts might beg to differ if he discovered you’re a necrophilic.

“Fuck, it’s—“ Leon breathed with a rasp, his fingers tapping the couch in sensitivity. The sensations were so strong and when you finally wrapped those soft lips around his dick, he’d melted into a puddle of goo. Just like his brain. Absolutely mush as strings of whines left his lips and he trembled and twitched.

You loved it. But you wanted to take him by surprise and finally listen to that intrusive thought as you pulled him out, took him way back to the base and then out again. You licked the side of his dick, extracted your fangs and dug them into the meat.

“N–no! Fuck, fuck!” Leon cried out, quickly entangling his fingers into your hair as pain overrode his pleasure and he clenched his eyes shut. The stinging was almost too much to bare on such a sensitive area, it was like plucking hair on his balls. He pulled at your hair in return but you were latched on, moaning against his flesh. You were just addicted to the taste, it was indescribable. But at the same time, you felt ws though you genuinely liked him and you didn’t to cause him too much pain you did.

Unhooking your mouth, you lapped at the blood as his grip relaxed a little bit but tears were imbedded into his lashline as he shuddered. You cooed softly, moving back up and situating yourself onto his lap.

“Didn’t mean to hurt you… you just taste so good,” You whispered, lacking sincerity as you kissed away his tears and he sniffled, cock semi-hard but throbbing at your touch. “I’ll make you feel so good now, you get that? C’mon, talk to me.”

“…Okay… alright just… no more biting, please.”

You laughed, licking any residue off your lips. He’s crazy if he thought you’d ever stop, you’d gotten a taste and you were hooked. He should stop feeling sorry for himself because you’re the victim here! You haven’t had a meal in ages, yet he feeds himself every nighr. You scoffed at the mere thought of humans.

“Mm, maybe. I’ll think about it.” You murmured, kissing along his jawline. “Are you a virgin, Leon?”

He flushed, pinkness coating the bridge of his nose as he turned his gaze downcast. How embarrassing to have to admit himself. He nodded, but you loved that. He was pure, untouched. Waiting for the right one, for you.

“Knew you were just perfect.” You sighed, shimmying your pants off until you were in your underwear. Basic nanny jammies, you don’t go shopping often. You’re a wacko, your routine is just sleep and work. Leon glanced at them, it was a little funny but so was the fact that he was nearing his thirties and still a virgin. His breath hitched when you sandwiched his thick cock between your folds through the cotton material, so soaked your pussy pressed straight through.

“Oh, God. You’re soaked.” Leon murmured in awe, his big hands moving to grasp your hips and pull you into that front and backwards movement at a faster pace. Your clit constantly being stimulated made your eyebrows arch inwards as a series of moans joined upon his. You nodded along, he had that effect on you. “Fuck, please. I need to feel you.”

He was begging? That’s cute. Your eyes were half-lidded, pleasure had a tendency to making you a bit dozy. So did good blood. You’ve had a fucking feast and the bite marks all over his body and his dick were satisfying, like an artist painting a blank canvas. You slipped your panties to the side, grinding the tip against your entrance until he was writhing.

Then slowly, you sank down. The stretch took you a little by surprise, eliciting a small gasp as your gummy walls clenched around his cock the further you went. He threw his head back, panting hard as you officially took his virginity. You didn’t give yourself time to adjust, grinding and bouncing on his lap as he squirmed and sobbed hoarsely, you didn’t think he could look so pathetic.

“Feels good, hm?” You asked, kissing down the column of his neck and sinking your fangs into it again. At the same time, you had tightened up when his blood oozed into your mouth making him groan and buck his hips, the pain mixing with pleasure God he was feeling too much at once. The base of his dick felt immediate pressure that just wanted to burst.

He nodded, and nodded. You were such a crazy bitch but your pussy was good, though he was dizzy. You were gonna kill him if you took anymore blood, but you were selfish and he felt like he was too. Then you took him away completely when you moved your hips in a circular motion, your ass rubbing against his balls making him twitch uncontrollably.

“Fuck… I—I’m cumming—“ Leon whispered, his eyes fluttering closed as you forced an orgasm out of him — it was all too much for him to bare and you sighed in satisfaction, his cum squirting inside you until you convulsed and reached your high. Milky droplets of orgasm slipping down his cock as he passed out and you sniffed along him, the musk of his sweat was nice.

“Mm, I’m keeping you.”

lord, that was long. thank you to anyone who reads and anyone who reblogs/comments ❤️

[cursedcatvibes]

LOTUS FLOWER

re2r! single dad leon x neighbor reader

word count: 1.6k

summary: leon’s baby mama dips as soon as the baby is born, leaving leon the sole parent of their baby girl. little does he know, babies are very difficult and cry a lot his neighbor is curious as to why the baby is always crying

tags/warnings: sfw (for now), fluff, pining, neighbor being nosy. not proofread as always!

a/n: my brain is not functioning properly! i cannot spit out anything but fluff right now and building up to smut is so difficult! my brain honestly isn’t letting me write fluff either to be honest! it’s been a busy summer too :( i also started some of my other WIPS too, i’ve slowly been writing other fics too. i’m proud to announce this will have a part two as well. thanks to the anon that inspired me, love you babydoll!

songs? none this time! but i was inspired by lotus flower by radiohead!

happy reading my loves!

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Leon couldn’t remember the last time he ever got a proper nights rest. With a new baby attached to his hip with the mother nowhere to be found it was honestly a struggle for him.

He had no idea how to take care of a baby, he was an only child and didn’t have to learn how to do it at an early age like some people.

He would’ve been fine if he had help but the baby mama wasn’t in the picture anymore. It’s not like something traumatic happened and then she died. Nope.

Not at all unfortunately.

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Leon was overwhelmed with joy as he held his fiancée’s hand while she was giving birth to their daughter. Tears brimming the edge of his eyes as he watched their little bundle of joy let out loud cries.

He was trying not to ugly sob as he cut the umbilical cord, it was the best day of his life. He held his little girl so gently and looked at her like she owned the world.

Leon’s fiancée who was enjoying the sight of him holding their little girl but deep down she knew that she didn’t want a baby, she never wanted this life and she felt so guilty when she told him she was pregnant because she was going to follow it up with her wanting an abortion but the look on his face when she told him was enough for her to not say anything.

After a few days in the hospital recovering from giving birth, she waited until it was her release date from there to ask Leon if he could get her some food from the cafeteria before they left and he nodded, leaving her with the baby and going to fulfill the request.

He decided on some delicious sweet cake and something salty to help wash all the sweetness down. He was excited about this new baby, it would be a new journey in his life.

But upon his arrival back from the hospital he was disappointed to find that his fiancée was now gone?

He presumed maybe she went to the bathroom, walking further into the room to look around. But a quick glance around told Leon everything he needed to know. She was gone..

His heart sank when he came to this conclusion, they were going to build a family, start a life together! What about their baby girl?

Leon came back to his senses when he heard soft cooing come from the other side of the room, he gasped and set the food onto the hospital bed, coming over towards the baby inside the small little bed. He gently picked her up and gave her a sad smile.

“Daddy will take care of you.” He whispered softly, kissing the baby's forehead while cradling her against his chest. Vowing to never let anything happen to his baby girl.

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Leon wasn’t sure what he could do for his baby at this point, between trying to juggle work as an officer and being a new father he wasn’t sure he was doing good.

Sure he would drop his baby off at his mama’s house when he goes to work or his mom would come up to his apartment, but he would have to fend for himself once she left.

All the baby did was cry, he learned a little bit about babies but it wasn’t enough, how was he going to survive this part of fatherhood? He had bags beneath his eyes and he was sure he was sleep deprived as well.

Little did he know, he wasn’t the only one struggling with hearing the baby crying. He had the end apartment and only had to deal with the neighbor next to him, the walls were thin. A little too thin.

You felt like you were going crazy, all the crying and screaming from the baby was enough to set you off and almost bang on his door to ask him to be a better parent. Another part of you was concerned, should babies be crying that much for that long?

You didn’t think he was abusing the baby but with the way the baby cried bloody murder you were genuinely starting to think that. You should go check, definitely! As a concerned neighbor of course, definitely not because you’re nosy.

You tossed on a shirt over your sports bra, not getting super fancy because you were technically still in sleep attire and you were sure you would get your answer within a few seconds.

You strolled out your apartment door and made a beeline towards Leon’s, gently knocking on the door, hoping he would hear it above the crying of his baby.

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Leon grumbled in annoyance when he heard someone knocking on his door. He held his crying baby on his hip and ran his hand through his tangled hair, wincing softly as his finger got caught on a knot.

He made a mental note to brush his hair whenever he got the baby down for another short nap as he unlocked his door to open it. “I’m not interested in buying anything-“ Leon explained with a frustrated look on his face, pausing when he saw it was you.

“Uh?” You briefly laughed and shook your head. “I’m not selling anything.” You said while shifting your weight to your other foot. “You might’ve seen me around before, I’m your next door neighbor?”

Leon raised his eyebrow at you while you spoke before nodding, gently bouncing the wailing baby up and down. “Right..” He trailed off, wondering what this whole thing was about.

You cleared your throat and glanced at the baby, the baby didn’t seem to show any signs of abuse nor did Leon look like he was either. “I was just wondering if you maybe needed help with the baby? I used to take care of my siblings when I was younger.”

Leon was surprised at this. He thought you were going to scold him for his crying child but you actually offered to help. He blinked a few times before responding.

“Really? I would appreciate it.” He murmured softly, turning to the side so you could step inside his apartment, carefully closing the door behind you both.

You immediately notice how he has baby toys everywhere and it looks like a war zone. You studied the room for a brief moment before turning towards Leon. “What’s this little sweetheart's name?” You pointed at his daughter and he looked down at the kid.

She was still crying her lungs out and it made him feel sad and guilty he couldn’t even take care of his child. “Angelina.” He says, handing you his baby and you immediately grab her.

You gently grab the pacifier connected to her bib and put it in her mouth, carefully rocking her back and forth carefully. In an instant she stopped crying and curled into your chest.

Leon was stunned, were you a witch?

His jaw dropped and he immediately closed it, all he could feel was shame and embarrassment. Why couldn’t he do that? Why did he not have that same effect?

“Wow.. I never got her to stop crying that quick..” Leon murmured quietly, watching as you held the baby with a gentle but firm grip so she wouldn’t be able to wiggle away.

“Babies are super easy, it’s the toddler stage that’s rough.” You laughed quietly and glanced around Leon’s living room for what felt like the thousandth time. “When she goes to sleep, where do you put her?” You asked politely.

Leon felt his heart jump at the sight of you holding his little angel. Sure he had a pregnant girlfriend at the time but he noticed you around the apartment building. More often than not at times.

“U-Uhm.” He brought a closed fist up to his mouth and cleared his throat. “She’s got a nursery here.” He mumbled softly, leading the way towards the neutral colored room.

You followed behind him and nodded silently, the air growing quiet all around as Angelina slowly drifted off to sleep, softly cooing in her sleep. You smiled a bit and carefully set her down inside her crib.

To Leon’s surprise she didn’t stir, but rather she just laid there. “Are you a witch?” He asked quietly while the both of you tried leaving the room quickly and as quietly as possible to avoid waking the baby up.

You snorted and shook your head. “No, I just have experience.” You replied, shrugging a bit before flattening your clothes out. Leon looked at you strangely for a few seconds before smiling.

“Yeah. I can tell.” He glanced down at his feet awkwardly, while you glanced away awkwardly. “I guess I should get going now.” You exhaled sharply and went to turn around. Yet as you took a step forward Leon’s hand grasp your wrist with a gentle limp grip you could easily break out of if you really wanted too.

“Wait.” He paused and stared into your eyes deeply. “Can you.. help me with her more often? I’ll pay you.” He said desperately, begging you with his eyes. You gulped and nodded. “Y-Yeah. Of course, that’ll be alright.” You nodded with a small grin and he mimicked your same expression.

He escorted you to the door and you both exchanged goodbyes, you promised to help him and he promised to pay you.

As soon as the door shut he allowed himself to have a physical reaction. Gosh! Was he really thinking about his neighbor like that? But also was he moving too quickly? He still had a baby and a deadbeat mama.

He wandered inside his bathroom and looked at his appearance, almost dying on the spot with how terrible he looked. He would put in better effort to look good, not for you of course. Totally not because he wanted to impress you. He just figured it was more professional since he was technically hiring you for a service.

Definitely nothing more.

[cursedcatvibes]

Omg I was stalking your account because I just read zombie leon and it's so good?! Then I saw the request of re2 dad leon? Who could ditch a guy like him? 😔 I personally think it'd be cute if he was a girl dad, but you do whatever you want! I hope ur having a good day or night after serving us with these masterpieces!

hi sweetheart! i absolutely love the idea of girl dad leon, something about it seems so sweet and i think it would be an interesting idea. currently in the process of writing it! <3

[cursedcatvibes]

You think reader would like incel leon again after he finally gets out of his anime boy phase? 😭🙏

hello babydoll! mhm i definitely think reader would, it would just take a lot of time and patience though! she still has a bit of attraction towards him because i mean let’s be honest he’s so good looking but it’s just his attitude and mentality :(

[cursedcatvibes]

zombie leon drabble to keep my lovely’s fed while i try to get over writers block!

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After you transformed into a zombie you now had to navigate life newly, which Leon thought was absolutely adorable and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

You were his perfect zombie goddess, he would move the heaven and earth for you if he could!

Obviously you were upset about the whole situation, sobbing ugly and loudly while Leon laid on top of you in confusion. Why weren’t you happy? You should be grateful he did this for you.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him, not after all he had done for you.

So now he teaches you how to hunt down humans, which parts to eat all of so they don’t transform into zombies and even how to keep yourself occupied during the nights.

If you can’t sleep anymore what could you really do?

Now you both have holed up inside the house where he first turned you. Making that place your very own home, it wasn’t a lot but to you both as zombies it was very good!

Plus, you both would have sex every night now. Duh, how else could you pass time by during the sleepless and dull nights?

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