#yandere spain x reader

[greycloudsinwinter]

Could I get yandere romantic young King henry the eighth headcanons from Spanish princess x gender neutral reader.

YANDERE KING HENRY VIII X READER

👑 you meet Henry when you were very young you were a child born from a servant.

👑your curiosity got the best of you when you saw henry alone studying. You started a conversation to which henry was happy to take part in.

👑but when news had got to his farther that henry was spending time with a low born . He made the guards swear that they wouldn’t let him near you.

👑henry was furious you were his first true friend and his farther had taken you away from him.

👑as henry matures he starts to forget about you but when he once again sees you tending to the garden. All the feelings come back crashing down on him.

👑he goes up too you starting a conversation to which you are happy to talk about. He begins to take you on walks around the garden even when you insist on doing your duties he dismisses it saying that he will get someone else to do your chores.

👑when news comes to him that his brother is dead the first person he goes to is you. He weeps in your lap granted him and his brother weren’t close but he still loved him.

👑at the coronation you are stood near him as comfort.

👑when Henry has too marry he is enraged that he can not marry you .

👑he hates his wife he doesn’t mean too she seems lovely however she was NOT you.

👑after three wives Henry comes to you begging you to marry him . You try to reason with him ‘what will the church think? Henry please understand this is your reputation on the line.’ He simply brushes a strand of hair out of your face ‘ I am the church. I am the one chosen by god to lead England!’ Then he leans down to your ear ‘ I will burn it all just for you .’ Your shaking at this point but you cannot deny him. So you simply agreed to the marriage.

👑he wants many children and by many I mean loads . Sons of course. If you can’t then he will take a mistress so that he can have a son and once she gives birth kills the women and declares you the child’s mother. Anyone disagrees with him are either burnt alive or hanged.

👑keeps you up in a tower only allowing you out every now and again to walk the gardens.

👑hates the way people talk to you or about you.

👑will do anything to gain power over you but if you ask something of him he becomes your servant.

👑he likes his hand to stay on you on your shoulder, lower back , arm , hand etc.

👑possessive and devoted yandere

Thank you for the request ❤️❤️

[darkwaltz-blog]

hey! do you think you could do some Yandere Spain smut hcs please? ❤️

YANDERE! SPAIN SMUT HEADCANONS.

Warning. +18 content; non-consensual relationships; mentions of abuse; manipulation.

Antonio Fernández Carriedo [Spain]

— COURTSHIP PROCESS:

Antonio is just an obsessive guy who would do anything for his S/O; His main goal is to please her and do everything in his power to fulfill her every whim. This is probably why he caught the attention of his beloved, perhaps she thought that Antonio's behavior was like that of any other person in love who seeks to attract attention and be kind (without having any idea that this simple "infatuation" was not typical of a sane person).

Antonio can be smarter than he appears, from the beginning he does a thorough search for the type of things that are stimulating for his partner and, from there, he will create dream scenarios for his S/O. He doesn't really mind impersonating someone else to get his partner's attention.

Antonio is aware of how conventionally attractive he is, so he would start wearing clothes that show off his physical attributes. It would be a new habit for him to wear tight pants that show off his shapely buttocks, wear shirts that reveal part of his chest and arm muscles, and then sneak up on his S/O so she can get a better look at his body.

In the end, if none of this works out, and his partner doesn't willingly reach out to him, he's bound to do nastier things. In reality, Antonio is a double face and he knows very well how to get rid of the bad things he does and never suffer the consequences. He wouldn't feel guilty about getting his S/O drunk and waking up the next day pretending to be a victim with excuses like: “I was drunk too, you know me very well, I would never dare to harm in any way”.

he already did something wrong once and nothing happened to him, so he can keep doing it. After all, he is a good and innocent guy in everyone's eyes, no one would ever suspect that he is capable of cruel acts.

— GENERAL TAGS:

In case S/O falls for Antonio's charms at first, he will still wear his good boy mask, and his beloved will probably never find out about the terrible things the boy is capable of just having her.

S/O can have Antonio at her feet if she wants it that way. This guy kisses the floor where his beloved walks, he is completely hers, and she can do whatever she wants with him. Submissive or dominant, that doesn't matter! He can be what his beloved wants him to be.

Antonio is terribly ruthless when he wants to be. He could not have his beloved in a good way, so he will have her in a bad way.

[midnightlee25]

Yandere Reactions: having a darling that’s having more than one baby (Spain/Antonio Fernandez Carriedo)

Twins (2): 

He does hope that they will be a boy and a boy just so they can have one of each but that isn't to say he would hate it if they were the same gender.  

   Triplets (3): 

Even better, yes, he understands it will mean more work but it will be great practice for later on. He will find a way to hold all three all at once.  

   Quadruples (4): 

Still isn't so bad to handle or so he believes. He may have to find a bigger home and another pair of hands (Romano.) but he knows that he has enough time to get everything ready for four little ones. 

   Quintuplets (5): 

Just a bit stressed having five all at once but he is still very excited about having so many children with his darling. definitely having Romano help him with this many all at once. 

   Sextuplets (6): 

He…is happy just starting to wonder how he's going to handle so many at once. Did he want a big family with his darling? Yes. Did he get that? Yes. is he going to get as many helping hands as he can get? definitely. (Is he going to want more? .... maybe.) 

[shini--chan]

Hey! Just want to start this off by saying that your blog is amazing! So a couple of years ago I had this medical emergency that caused a cist on my ovary to rupture, the symptoms were similar to appendicitis with high fever, dry heaving and rapid dehydration. How would America, England, Germany and Spain react to their s/o falling so ill, that they would need immediate medical attention? Especially if they let it get to a point where s/o passes out due to the stress and pain.

Sheesh, I hope you had a good recovery and are doing well at the moment. Also – Thank you ;P

Yandere Hetalia – Plaster on a gunshot wound

America

Alfred would be very lassie-faire towards the whole situation. If questioned, then he would simply responded that he was seen his sh!t and that what would be happening at the moment is tame in comparison to stuff that he already expertised. He would provide first-aid himself – determined to have as few people involved as possible because he would want to be seen as your hero. Other people preforming heroism would only scratch at his ego.

However it would quickly turn out that it would be best not to trust Alfred in medical emergencies, especially when it concerns somebody that he is so heavily attached to. He would start fumbling, snapping at everybody around him, and it would take a lot of talking to make him back-off and let the professionals do their job.

There would be the danger that he would inflict permanent damage, or even jeopardise your life – that is how much he would want to be the one to save you. That is how much he would balk at the idea of letting anybody close to you.

England

Like his son, he would be prideful and want to do all the work himself. Unlike Alfred, Arthur would be pragmatic enough to let professional people step in. In Arthur’s case, he wouldn’t do things by halves – either he would take full responsibility for your care, or he would contact an acquaintance to tend to you.

You were breathing shallowly, skin light green. Arthur checked you in the rear mirror every couple of seconds, his brow furrowing in frustration. If anything, this whole situation annoyed him more than causing him to panic. In hindsight, he had been too callous in his punishment of you. He shouldn’t have deprived you of water for so long. Yet he also blamed you – this all could have been avoided if you hadn’t made him so irate by spitting into his tea.

Sighing, he fished his phone out of the side compartment and scrolled through his contact list. Staring at his phone while driving was mighty irresponsible, however, if anybody ever chided him on that, he would just snap back that he had been driving cars since they were invented, and if anybody knew how to drive while distracted, it would be him.

Finally finding the contact he need, he called, pressing the phone against his ear. While striving to be up-to-date with cutting edge technology, he still couldn’t really befriend the speaker system. Besides, he didn’t want to wake you up.

“Hello Mr Kirkland, what can I do for you?”

“Alberton! Now I would normally love to do some chit-chat with you before going to the meat of the issue but this is an emergency. I have a very dehydrated youngster on the backseat, passed out even.”

“Alright, I’ll prepare a room.”

“That’s a lad. I’ll be there in a jiffy.”

The person, he would take you too would be a medical professional in Arthur’s trust, discreet so that the treatment wouldn't show up in any records, not the sort to ask any questions or to help you.

Germany

In your case, it would most likely due to an illness and accident, since Ludwig wouldn’t lay a hand on you. If anything, it would take a lot to provoke his wrath. That is of course, if we are talking about post-1945 Ludwig. The pre-1945 Ludwig would be a different story where we won’t go into further detail in this post.

Would be take care of you to the best of his ability before the incident, making sure you eat healthy and get a lot of exercise. If he wouldn’t have to take you to a hospital, then he would just call a house doctor and have you treated at his house. If that wouldn’t be the case, then he would drive you to a private hospital, and pay a handsome sum to have you treated and to ensure their silence.

This could be your chance to escape, and should the hospital staff not buy into his tall tales, they could even help you escape. Though Ludwig would be there as well, and if allowed, he would request to sleep in the same room as you.

Spain

His first reaction would be to have ten seconds of panic and then go to business. He would ring up one of his friends to bring a van with medical equipment and have you treated at his place. If the medical stuff wouldn’t fit into the living space, then you would be shoved into the van. Being immortal, he would know that his view of humans is skewed and that he would just end up doing something wrong if he would take the matter in his own hands.

During your recovery he would dote on you and also take the opportunity to illustrate this as a reason that you need him. Antonio would tell you stories of people that died alone and were eaten by their pets. And of people that died alone and were only discovered by the stench the emitted. What would you have done if it weren’t for him?

If the both of you weren’t living in the city already, then he would move to the city. That way, if something were to occur again, he would be close to help. Of course, that is only if you were to behave.

[headingalaxys-spicy]

Hi could u please do the reactions of yandere mob boss Spain, America, Germany, South and North Italy if their wife (who had no idea what their husband did for a living) found out about them being mob bosses and that they were yanderes? The s/o witnessed them killing their friend and took her and his kids and left to another country to hide from him. Thanks!

Oh look 5am posting shenanigans 🤣

America

‘You’ve been meddling in y/n’s personal life for far too long. It’s time you learn that you don’t meddle in our affairs.” A resounding ring of a bullet being fired rings out into the night time air.

Nothing moved. The world stood still for a moment as Y/N’s best friend had been taken away from this world forever……

Y/N had witnessed the entire scene play out….from Alfred’s control room. One of many that existed within his worldwide underground contraband empire. All they could do was slump into the large office chair as she watched the crimson continue to pour out onto the concrete floor like a river. Just like the tears that had sprung to your eyes they wouldn’t stop anytime soon.

Guards moved into the room and cleaned up the gory scene to make it look like the execution had never taken place. Your hand crept up to your face in a vain effort to comfort you & prevent it from ruining your make-up. You would have to peer up into those cold blooded killers eyes for dinner that night and have some passionate moments.

“Sir, someone is in your viewing room in your NY villa.” You heard someone say over the sound system. The dirty blonde simply nods his head unbothered. Your entire nervous system set a shockwave through your entire body. From your head to your toes your muscles had already begun the motion to jump and hide. However the chair beneath you had other plans.

Heavy metal clinged to your ankles, waist, and wrists. You let out a terrified screech. The multiple screens that displayed various places of operation all converged into one to create his face glowering down at you with distinct disappointment staring straight into your heart.

You had a torrential storm of emotions ragging in the pit of your stomach making your head and heart agree that you were petrified. Bright blues stared intently at you.

“Y/N what am I going to do with you?”

Eventually…after so much mental anguish that Alfred put you through …you became smart enough to act and feign being under his grip. You prepared enough to escape him. You obtained an offshore bank account in Switzerland. You had burner phones. You had well made passports for you and your children to get through any airport security. You thought of everything.

Germany

“Consider your days meddling in my private affairs with Y/N Frau (last name of BFF)” without a second to think about anything else his large gloved hand pulls the trigger. From then a pained wailing noise would not cease. The victim squirmed, thrashed, and struggled against the boa constrictor like restraints against the metal chair that was in his taunting steely blue eyes. He fired a bullet towards the feet of his prey. Ludwig had a point to make…if you disobeyed him, showed the slightest bit of defiance, there would be hell and bloodshed that would douce the ground for miles around.

Everything would be idyllic between the two of you. If you didn’t have friends that were so intent on meddling in your life and making things difficult for the two of you to grow closer as lovers. He stalked closer and closer towards his prey savoring the fear in their eyes like currywurst. The reverberating sound of hellish shrieks continued to hammer against the steel and concrete walls. The German man came to a full stop in front of the shaken deer of a person. His bulky figure towered over you and that's when your voice was stifled instantly when you caught a glimpse of his sadistic smile. Nothing on earth would be able to save you from his wrath in both your daily routine and in bed.

“Mein Liebling…” even though his voice was soft and not loud. It sounded like thunder to you…it didn’t help ease your trembling. “Don’t ever try to escape … it will always end badly for you and anyone involved.” He forces your chin to look at your friend's lifeless body that was soaked in blood. After a few moments he concentrates your attention to his cold gaze.

“Looks like I’ll have to retrain you on how to be the perfect spouse for me.”

Northern Italy

“Oh rigazza/riggazo , they weren’t important, they were trying to harm you.” He has a supportive hand on your back, in an attempt to sooth you after you just received news that your friend was killed in a fatal car accident. They passed immediately on impact.

You’d been inconsolable for 3hrs since learning the news and nothing for a long while would stop an ocean from forming in your apartment.

Feliciano was good at pretending to be sympathetic towards your predicament but your friend's planned death gave him a greater advantage over you. They were the last of the close knit connections you had while you were abroad and away from your family. They were one of the last people that you could confide in about your deeper fears about Feliciano that wouldn’t make it back to his ears. The man has a variety of different connections to you and your inner circle. He knew how to make sure that the truth would not reach your ears.

The current lie that he was trying to comfort you with was how they were jealous of your new life that you got to have while dating him. He’d been working on this lie for a few months now and it wasn’t working in the way he liked. It didn’t drive you away from your best friend but closer, and farther away from Feliciano.

He couldn’t continue to allow that so he had to come up with a plan. He began to give you space as you requested. And like any boyfriend candidate he went to work on how to best plan out the accidental death of your friend while plotting to become your only source of support. He created a hole within you and you’d be vulnerable enough to let him fill it. He will spin you into a fantasy that will make you forget that you ever needed anyone else in the world. He will lead you to believe that he is your prince and that what happened was all a bad nightmare.

Southern Italy

“There there, amore mio, I’m sorry but it had to be done. They were telling you lies about me and poisoning your mind.” His hands were resting on the back of your chair. He had a mirror set-up so that it could see you two framed together. A vision of a perfect couple, minus the blood and bodies that surrounded the two of you almost forming a demented ciricle of sorts.

You didn’t understand how someone who had the visage of an angelic gentleman but underneath all of the shimmering dazzle you allowed your shaded gray wings to be entranced by the phoenix.

Only sobs came out to give Lovino the reply he was waiting for. He places his head on top of yours so he can inhale the shampoo you’d used that morning. Lovino isn’t one to let go once he;s grown attached and fond of someone. You are no exception. As he exhales slowly you can smell the mint and aftershave mix reaching your nostrils. Even though you were used to him being calm, an air filled with sulfur could best describe the mood. One wrong statement you now know could set him off and more people whom you cared about would be off and more people whom you cared about would be in the wake of his fiery wrath.

Lovino quietly tries to hush you. “Shhh~ it’s okay y/n. If you don’t make matters more difficult for me today then we can go somewhere nice for dinner and I won't have you in chains…” He slides his hands towards yours and you do your best not to flinch at the sight of his blood covered hands. By now you nose was already accustomed to the smell of iron that coated the air like a freshly painted bedroom. 5-6 more tears break through your petrified (eye color) orbs. You desperately wanted out … a reset so you could unravel your recent life choices that led you to Lovino. Had you known all the things he was capable of and knew that he was a mafia boss well known in Italy you wouldn’t have been smitten with him.

However, it’s difficult to not be charmed by an Italian, they’re known for having avid sparks that refuse to be extinguished. You felt a light squeeze on your tethered hands. He was expecting a verbal reply soon. The air was becoming thicker with impatience, you could hear the beginning of an irritated growel that began to form in his diaphragm.

You decided that the best way to handle him was to douce the match that was already a light with your enduring sorrow that produced tears potent enough to overpower his budding rage. As the water flowed you barely managed to choke out.

“I love you Lovino.”

Spain

“Mi Amore what do you mean? You were having a bad night and had too much of France’s wine! That’s all! You know his wine tends to make you a little crazy. Come let's go somewhere for a walk in the moonlight.”

He wants to smooth over the small incident of you witnessing your male best friend being tortured in a burtal way before ultimately hsi life came to an abrupt end. One of his newer recruits let you slip away. You had followed the guidance of the sinking feeling in your gut to discover that your lover was not the simple carefree Spainard that you’d come to love deeply.

You were never 100% sure of how far out into the ocean's current of which you’d been dragged and with Antonio’s masterful undermining of your perception it is impossible for you to escape him and his influence. He flooded your mind with lies. To him your position in life was ina beautiful sea, to you it felt like you were in a waterlogged grave site. It would continue to fill with the bodies of your loved ones until you stopped fighting him. However, the thought of him still in your life still left you filled with rage. He was a murder… a monster… a mobster.

Yet for some reason you still had your doubts. Not that you really had the headspace to think through much of anything he said to you. Antonio always made sure that you were moderately inebriated with the finest wines to take the edge off your “damaged” personality. You tried not to think about his comments too much after all ….no he was bad! Right? Right?!

“Y/N come with me. Don’t be a stick in the mud. Come let's take a shot of strawberry tequila and head to the beach tonight. I think maybe turtles we can see!” Trying to sound more enticing and it would be nice to not exist in the same building …. Where you think your friends and some close family’s bodies are…. Or….

“Ready?” He brings you a teal and gold 2 ounce shot glass practically filled to the brim. Some of the droplets fall on your soft (s/c) and subconsciously you flinch…. You knew this liquid would be your best escape …. Even if only temporary.

The Aftermath (When you decide to Escape)

America

Eventually after so much mental anguish, you became smart enough to escape him and feign being under his grip before you enacted your grand master plan. You prepared enough to escape him; you had an offshore bank account in Switzerland. You had burner phones, well-made passports for you and your twin girls. You thought of everything that you’d need …but the first few moments before you would start your journey to a small nation. As your heart raced for the exit your body was set into overdrive.

You’ll manage to get to the destination safely but all the while you feel his cold blues on you like infrared beams. You were grateful that your twins were only 2 months old. It was risky doing what you did …your life will never know peace because those blues will never truly lose track of you.

Germany

What you did to escape wasn’t well thought out or well planned. You simply made sure your husband Ludwig was passed out cold from the excessive amount of Nyquil you mixed into his food. You knew you;d need some time to improvise an intelligent plan to save yourself and your two boys (3) and (7) .

“Mutti was passiert?'' ``Warum erwache spät in der Nacht? Your eldest son questions you, also showing off what his father has been teaching him.

“Alles klar aber….. ``Es ist volkstümliche Spiel, verstecke dich und gehe suchen.”

Like America he’s not going to take this act of defiance laying down for long once he wakes up. I hope you’re already in hiding once he wakes up. However you weren’t prepared for your 7 year old to be Ludwigs informant at such a young age.

N. Italy

The fantasy you were living in has been shattered again when Felician o lost his temper during dinner while your daughter (5) months was asleep in her tower that daddy built just for her. A maid you’d become good friends with while you were caged was caught in the line of fire as he let out his frustrations. Your memories of your friend who was trying to warn you of the evil that was camouflaged within the depths of his soul, but always lurking came flooding back to you. You knew that you had to continue to pretend to be living within the fantasy until you could find the rabbithole that led you back to a sane reality.

S. Italy

It was another lukewarm Autumn night overlooking the Mediterranean sea. Y/N had her 4 month old wrapped in a reddish brown blanket while a pacifier bobbed up and down in rhythm with amber eyes identical to their father. She rushed through the idyllic cobblestone streets as she hopped into a small yacht of sorts where she sped off into the night. She hoped the void like waves will shield her from being discovered, from her deranged mafia lover.

Spain

After almost losing your life while giving birth to your son… Your brush with death made you realize that you had to get your shit together. It was 13:00 and siesta time. It was the perfect time to enact your plan and put it into motion. “ (Sons name) lets go! Do you have the three of your favorite toys and the other things we talked about right?”

“Si mama!” You little boy chirps back at you. You were going to chill at Disneyland with an au-pair while you worked out the finer details with a lawyer and security guards that have sworn to help you evade Antonio for awhile.

[mxlovinovargas]

LILAC BREEZE — SPAIN x READER

Synopsis: He's drunk and he's raring to go. He needs you.

Lilac Breeze

CW: Drunken Behavior, Possessive Thoughts and Behavior, Obsessive Thoughts and Behavior, Blood, Mention of Injury, Slight Petting, Dub-Con / Non-Con Implications at the End, Use of Country Names, Reader-Insert.

Word Count: 1k

Lilac blowin’ through the warm summer air. 

Electricity crackles in the sky, unlike anything or any storm chocolate amber eyes have ever witnessed before as white tendrils flex and claw over deep indigo smattered with dying rays of sunlight. Sniff. Huff. Blood trickles from a fractured nose, dribbling over a pair of beautifully full lips parched with strong liquor and heavy sorrow. A tongue darts out, swipes, and saliva dries to leave the surface even more chapped than before. There's another clap of lightning. 

Spain’s eyes are fuzzy, and his head really hurts. There’s an alcohol headache perched on his shoulders and whenever he crosses his eyes in just the wrong way, pain surmounted builds like a bent pencil before it cracks and sharp stabbings get right between the eyes. There’s a stiff ache that lumps at the base of his head—like his nervous system was eating him alive, but Spain just sniffs again and stumbles through the dark. 

He can smell your perfume. 

The storm in the air backs his body up, like a budding pressure desperately growing and expanding and inflating; a desire, an insurmountable longing that makes his chest burn and his navel turn inwards and his hands shaky. Spain flaps his hands off a couple of times in a vain attempt to quell his nerves, but the alcohol keeps it coming back for more. Crows cry out in the distance, another bolt, and insects chirrup loudly, the air grows thick, and a hungry stray dog howls to the skies that open up and pour. 

Spain feels a panic in his limbs, but it’s not from anything that scares him. He feels tightness, a hurt that runs so thoroughly inside that each step feels like the jolt of a needle, like the lash of a whip, like the snap of a fox trap—all ready to pounce pounce pounce. Spain needs something. He needs to get out of here, go forward, move, do anything! He bumbles through the threshold into a dark house. 

The rhythm of the home, the baseline of the storm, the drumming of the rain, the guitar riffs of electrical storms—it’s all pulsing to life, bleeding through Spain’s every fiber and making his fingertips thump to the pace of his heartbeat and all he can do is feel it as it runs. Dim, dying rays of sunlight fade with the going wind and suddenly night is bred alive in the place. In your home. 

Spain thinks he can hear you through the music of seedy bars revving in his ears, so he steps and he blunders and he haphazardly shambles his way to you. 

Baby, don’t leave me so lovelorn. 

He wants you. He can smell you everywhere. In the air, the room, the couch, the floor, the wall, the ceiling, his body, his mind, his heart, his soul. You’re in everything. It echoes long in the lilac breeze. And its reverberation is so loud it feels like a sudden oncoming bout of muted tinnitus that makes Spain’s inner ears feel so full and makes everything so deaf that all he can hear is the ringing, and all he can smell is you, and all he can do is walk to your room. 

And it’s sad and pathetic how Spain shambles so clumsily and so blindly to your room and slumps halfheartedly against your door. He fumbles with the doorknob, sniffling and grimacing like there was a sour taste in his mouth—himself—before he snags the knob, turns, and now the door is ajar. Then, he crosses in. 

Girl, I want it ba-aaad. 

Girl, I want it bad. 

You're sound asleep, lost blissfully to this world and gone to the beyond. Spain feels his heart thud in his chest and he stands there, looming his shadow over your figure like a boogeyman and staring down at your body like a mangy wolf. He feels the groove of his own body as he presses the ball of his knee to the bed and begins to leer. Spain’s chest heaves and he feels so desperately sick as he flattens his palm to the mattress and crawls his fingers upward. The tips of his fingers kiss your side and you emit a delicate little sound that makes Spain’s fuzzy head spin. You stir to life and Spain swallows hard. 

This is how it should be. You lean into his touch momentarily, a moan on the end of your tongue as you roll a little and twist at the waist to see what’s feeling you up. Spain just paints a pretty smile on his face, extra goofy and dopey and he makes sure you can see the way his eyes are lidded so that you know that he’s not playing. But whenever your eyes squint and you blink at him through the mist of sleep that dances between your eyes, Spain knows you're not pleased to see him. He doesn't mind. He knows how to make you smile. 

So he grabs you by the thigh and shakes you a little, but you just hum and let your head hit the pillow again. Spain squeezes your thigh next before they tickle up, tracing nonsensical patterns against your flesh before they pause at your hip and he grabs a handful. 

We got somethin’ to start—

Your eyes crack open briefly, glazed with that lovely blur of sleep that makes them all puffy and watery, and you whine at him quietly. Spain’s smile curls a little before he dips his hand down. 

He whistled a sad tune that the storm, the wind, the blackbirds repeat back as his hand traverses and you slide your thighs together with a nervous scrape. Spain just keeps smiling. The liquor in his mind has bubbled over like gurgling magma and it’s like lava as it seeps through his every action. Spain needs you so bad—how can he get it through your pretty little head? He needs it so bad that he trembles with each breath he takes and he tilts his head questioningly at you whenever you whimper and shake your head no. Why won’t you hear me? Spain feels sick in the furthest reach of his palette as he finally curves his palm and traces right where he wants most. 

You cry, but Spain can only think about one thing: 

Lilac blowin’ through the warm summer air. 

[gigabyte-flare]

The Devil is Real (Part 1)

Summary: Your troubled older brother disappeared two years ago, vanishing without a trace; that is until one day you receive a letter from him. He’s living in Spain after having joined a religious group called Los Iluminados, his life seemingly changed for the better. He would love it if you came to visit him. Who are you to refuse an invitation from your beloved big brother, right?

Word Count: 4.2k

Pairing: plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: drug abuse mention, abusive household mention, religious cult, religious trauma, body horror, noncon, dubcon, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (m and f receiving), kidnapping, yandere tendencies, somno, extreme violence and gore, human sacrifice, murder, blood play/kink, breeding kink, pregnancy, pet names, stockholm syndrome, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future parts]

A/N: I want to give a shoutout to @d10nyx, who's bot heavily inspired this new series. I had been wanting to write plagas!Leon again for so long, but I wanted to do something I hadn't seen done before and my interaction with her bot planted the seed (breeding kink go brrrrrrrrrrrr). This will likely be my darkest series yet so if that's not your jam, I kindly ask that you keep scrolling. It should be noted that any of the Spanish seen in this series is either from my extremely vague recollection of the language from my youth or from Google translate, so I apologize if there's any weird grammar in any of the Spanish, it is not my intention to butcher the language.

I hope you guys like thrill rides :3

The title is inspired by Bad Things performed by I Prevail

April 22, 2008

Sis,

I apologize for this being the first time I’ve contacted you in two years, but I promise you, it was for good reason. I finally got help. I moved out to Spain to this lovely rural area called Valdelobos to live with this wonderful community called Los Iluminados. I’ve been sober for just over two years because of them. I would really love it if you came to visit, you would absolutely love it here, sis! I would love more than anything to share with you the community that has made such a huge difference in my life. I don’t have access to a computer, so you’ll have to send me a letter to reply. You can find the return address on the envelope. I eagerly await your letter!

With all my love,

Vince

You sit on your old saggy couch, gently holding the handwritten letter in your hands like it’s going to disintegrate. Your mind is in turmoil; your older brother Vincent, or Vince as most people call him, had disappeared about two years ago. He struggled with drug addiction when he reached adulthood, always chasing his next high. When you had reported him missing, police searched everywhere for him for weeks until you finally had to come to terms with the fact that he was most likely dead.

This letter, however, says otherwise.

“Who’s it from?” your boyfriend asks before sitting beside you, seeing the strained look on your face and growing concerned. 

You don’t answer him at first, your eyes locked on the weathered piece of paper. Realizing your boyfriend, Mark, had asked you a question, you blink a few times and shake your head, snapping yourself out of the shocked daze.

“It’s from Vince,” you reply, looking over at Mark.

Mark looks at the paper you’re holding, then back to you, “are you sure it’s from Vince?”

“Of course I’m sure! That is definitely his handwriting. He’s alive!” 

You hand the letter to Mark, who takes a moment to read the letter himself, adjusting his glasses as he does so, “he wants you to go visit. What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea…” you say softly, burying your face in your hands as you continue to struggle with your emotions.

Growing up, all you had was your brother, having lost your parents at a young age. Growing up, the both of you lived with your grandparents, but they were very abusive. As soon as Vince had turned 18, he fought to become your legal guardian and the two of you moved out. Unfortunately, Vince had turned to drugs to deal with his trauma, but could you blame him? Your grandfather was especially hard on Vince; there were many nights you could remember falling asleep to the sounds of the two of them shouting and throwing things at each other. 

There’s a ten year gap between you and your brother, so naturally Vince had become something of a father figure to you, especially considering you were only two when your parents had died. A car accident you had been told; hit by a drunk driver on the way home from a New Year’s party. You felt like life always dealt you a shitty hand. First your parents, then your brother. But now, your brother seems to be back and he’s ok; he’s sober. You should be happy, so why are you so conflicted?

“I’m going to do some research on this ‘Los Iluminados’ group,” you finally say before standing up from the couch to walk into your bedroom, “make sure it isn’t some Jim Jones bullshit…”

“I’ll get dinner started then,” Mark says, also standing up, making his way over to the kitchen, “I’ll holler when dinner’s ready.”

You nod at Mark before walking into the bedroom, sitting down at your desk in the corner of the room, opening your laptop and powering it on. You open up Internet Explorer and open a new Google search window, typing in Los Iluminados which unsurprisingly yielded zero results; with them not having computer access, it makes sense that there’s no trace of this group on the internet by searching their name. You then search cults in Spain and skim through the results. Again, there’s no mention of Los Iluminados anywhere. Drumming your fingers on your desk, you begin to question the letter’s legitimacy. Whoever sent it knew where you lived and that your brother had been missing for two years. No one would go through that much trouble just to prank someone. 

“Babe, dinner’s ready!” you hear Mark call from the kitchen. 

Letting out a sigh, you reluctantly stand up from your desk, walking out of the bedroom to join your boyfriend in the living room, who just finished putting both your plates down onto the coffee table. Laying in the middle of the living room, your 8 year old brindle English Mastiff, André, lifts his head lazily, sniffing the air upon smelling food. You can’t help but let out a chuckle as you sit down on the couch, grabbing your plate to start eating.

“Even in his old age, André has a one track mind,” Mark says, watching as the large dog gets up from the floor. Mark gently pats him on the head, “don’t you buddy?”

“He sure does,” you reply, reaching over to pat the gentle giant before returning to your meal.

“Were you able to find anything on that group in the letter?” Mark asks, looking over at you before taking a bite of food. 

“Not a damn thing. Which I guess makes sense but still…” you say, your voice trailing off as you let out a heavy sigh, “something about it just doesn’t sit well with me.”

“Then we go to Spain, find out if this group is real or not and bounce if it’s just a wild goose chase,” Mark says, weaving his left hand through the air as he speaks.

“And who’s going to watch André?” 

André’s big brown eyes look between the two of you, letting out a soft whimper. Mark mouths the word ‘fuck’ before taking another bite of dinner.

“Right,” Mark says quietly, giving André another pat on the head.

The two of you finish eating dinner in silence, afterwards helping each other clean up the dishes. You let Mark know that you’re going to write a response to Vince’s letter, heading back up to the bedroom to sit back at the desk, pulling out a notebook and a pencil.

May 15, 2008

Vince,

First, I just want to say I am relieved to see that you’re ok and that you’re doing better. You had dropped off the face of the earth and I couldn’t find you anywhere; I thought you were dead! I’m so incredibly glad I was wrong. And, of course, congratulations are in order for your two years of sobriety. I know that’s something you really struggled with and I’m glad this community was able to help you. Is it a religious group? I think Los Iluminados roughly translates to “The Enlightened Ones” if my vague recollection of Spanish serves me right. Regardless, I would love to come visit you and see where you’ve been living these past two years, just let me know where I need to go.

Sis

May 31, 2008

Sis,

I was so excited to see you had written back that I practically ripped the envelope open. Los Iluminados is a small religious community and, I know what you’re thinking, it’s not a cult, so you have nothing to worry about there. They’re really big on living a traditional, almost pagan-like lifestyle and for me, being able to unplug while I got better was exactly what I needed. I’m hoping after experiencing Los Iluminados yourself that you’ll feel the same. As far as getting you here goes, you’ll want to fly into Valencia Airport, we’ll come pick you up from there. Call the enclosed number once you have your flight booked and tell Maria what day you’re coming. I’m looking forward to seeing you!

Vince

You tuck the letter back in your carry on bag, leaning back in your seat on the airplane and closing your eyes. You land in Valencia Airport in less than an hour and you are doing everything in your power to keep your nerves in check and not get your hopes up. You did as Vince had asked, you called this woman named Maria and with really broken Spanish, you had told her you were flying in on June 17th. At some point you must have dozed off because you’re jolted awake when the plane lands on the tarmac.

The plane pulls into the dock and you along with the other passengers file out. You head down to baggage claim to grab your luggage; you had packed about a week’s worth of clothes since you didn’t know how long you were staying. You low key were hoping to talk your brother into coming back to the States with you, but that’s a bridge you’ll cross when you get there. That thought is far from your mind, however, when you get through airport security and immediately spot your brother holding a large sign with your name on it. Your mouth hangs agape as you stop in your tracks. The last time you had seen him, he was a 33 year old who looked almost 50 due to his years of drug abuse. Now? He has color in his face, he’s gained weight and actually looks healthy. His clothes are a little disheveled and covered in dirt, but he’s smiling, probably the first time you’ve seen him smile since you were children.

Dropping your luggage, you run over to your brother, throwing your arms around him and hugging him tight, tears freely flowing from your eyes as you cry out, “it’s you, you’re real! You’re alive!”

Vince tightly hugs you back, rocking you both back and forth before stepping back, smiling down at you as his hands remain on your shoulders, “look at you! All grown up; 25 has treated you nicely!”

You playfully scoff before walking back to grab your luggage, “hardly.”

You return to Vince, who then takes your luggage from you as the two of you begin to walk out of the airport, “how’s Mark? You two are still together, I take it?”

“We are! He’s doing good, he’s at home watching André.”

“André is still around? That’s nice to hear!” Vince says as the two of you walk up to a very beat up looking sedan, “here’s our luxury limousine!”

You playfully smack him with the back of your hand, “very funny, Vince.”

You watch as Vince opens the trunk of the sedan, putting your luggage inside, he looks up at you as he closes the trunk, “go ahead and get in the back seat, Sis.”

You nod in acknowledgement, climbing into the back seat, your brother joining you shortly after. An older couple sits in the driver’s and passenger’s sides of the sedan, promptly driving away from the airport once you and your brother put your seatbelts on. 

“We have about a three hour drive ahead of us, you must be exhausted from your flight,” Vince says, looking over at you and giving you a warm smile.

You nod, feeling your eyes grow heavy from jet lag, however you force your eyes to stay open; you desperately don’t want to miss a single moment with your brother.

“Hey,” Vince lays a hand on your shoulder, “it’s ok, get some rest, I’ll wake you up when we get close to the village.”

“If you say so…” you reply softly. 

You hesitantly let your eyes close, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. It feels like only a moment has passed when Vince shakes you awake.

“Hey Sis, we’re here!”

After getting out of the car, there was still a considerable hike until you got to the village proper. Once getting there, however, you find yourself pleasantly surprised. You weren't sure what you were expecting of a small village at the center of a religious community but what you’re seeing wasn’t it. It is a bonafide village, with actual houses, a town center, a watchtower and a large brick structure towards the back. In the distance, you can see a windmill slowly spinning. You chalk it up to the large number of documentaries you had watched on cults leading up to this trip that painted a picture in your mind of what this village would look like; the small, white cottages of People’s Temple immediately coming to mind. A part of you is glad you were wrong.

“So, what do you think?” Vince asks me, gesturing one of his hands towards the village, “this is where I’ve been these last two years.”

“It’s nothing like what I expected, it’s… honestly really peaceful,” you reply, looking around the village in awe.

You watch as several of the other villagers stop what they’re doing to look at you and your brother, an older woman over by a well giving both of you a warm smile before pulling a bucket of water up from the well.

“My house is over here,” Vince continues, pointing to one of the houses on the left before leading you towards it. 

Vince’s house sits next to the watchtower, he opens the door and walks inside. Before you enter, you happen to turn around and look towards the large brick building in the back of the village. Standing at the door is someone wearing a black cloak with gold trim, underneath his clothes you can tell he’s wearing cargo pants and a tight fitting athletic shirt of some kind. But that’s not what grabs your attention; it’s his azure eyes locked on you, causing your blood to run cold.

“Vince,” you say, your voice trembling as you reach to grab his wrist, stopping him, “who is that over there?”

Vince turns to look where you’re looking, letting out a soft chuckle once he sees who you’re looking at, “him? That’s just Leon. He’s the right hand of our Lord Saddler. He’s probably here to check on things, don’t worry about him. Come inside.”

Vince practically pulls you, shutting and barring the door shut once you’re inside.

“Why are you blocking the door?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as your brother turns to face you.

“We tend to have an open door policy in the village. Where you and I haven’t seen each other for awhile, I figured it’d be best to have some privacy, wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod as you take in your surroundings. There’s a staircase leading upstairs and around the corner, a dining table and a kitchen area. Several candles are burning; they definitely don’t have electricity and running water in this village. Behind your brother is a worn couch.

“Is that where I’m sleeping?” you ask, pointing at the couch.

“Nope, you get the bed upstairs. I can live with the couch for a while. Nothing but the best for my little sis.”

“Thanks Vince,” you reply, grabbing your luggage, “I’ll bring this upstairs, then maybe we can talk. You know… catch up.”

You grab your luggage, dragging it up the stairs. You spot the bed at the end of the bannister next to a window overlooking the village center. As you’re staring out the window, you spot the cloaked man, Leon, again. He’s standing in the center of town, looking right at you. It sends a chill down your spine. You turn around and scream a little when your brother taps you on the shoulder.

“You ok? You weren’t answering me,” Vince says, his face full of concern.

“Sorry… it’s that guy. He’s right down there staring at the window,” you reply, turning to point out the window, however, Leon is gone, “oh, nevermind. It must have been my imagination.”

“He’s like… a guard dog of sorts. He’s probably just making sure you’re chill,” Vince explains, gently grabbing you by your upper arm and leading you back downstairs, “he’s like that with anyone he doesn’t know.”

“Right, of course…” you’re still uneasy, but decide to trust your brother.

“I’ll get started on dinner, have a seat at the table,” says Vince before walking over to the large wood stove, which is already aflame.

“Can I help with anything?” you ask, still standing by the table.

“No, I got it. Been doing this for two years. I can handle it. You’re the guest of honor, you just sit back, relax and let your brother take care of you.”

While your brother prepares dinner for the two of you, you make small talk, getting him caught up on the two years worth of stuff he missed. You told him about Mark and André, told him that your horrendous grandfather finally passed away a year ago; you had caught a smirk on Vince’s face before he turned his attention back to making dinner. Once dinner is finished, he sets both plates down at the table and the two of you dig in.

“Earlier you had said Lord Saddler,” you begin, taking a bite of food before continuing, “Vince… are you sure this isn’t a cult?”

Your brother bursts out laughing, reaching over to put his hand on yours to comfort you, “Lord Osmund Saddler is the patriarch of Los Iluminados and the speaker for the Holy Body. I’m not held here against my will. I promise you with every fiber of my being, this isn’t a cult, Sis.”

“I’m sorry I just… I may have watched a bunch of documentaries before coming here on cults and I just want what’s best for you, that’s all.”

Vince smiles, “Don’t worry, no one is going to drink any Kool Aid here.”

“Vince, that’s terrible!” you playfully smack him, “also it wasn’t even Kool Aid!”

You can’t help but laugh, slowly letting your mind be at ease. It’s clear your brother is happy and healthy here in this village. Before you can continue your conversation with Vince, you hear the chime of a church bell in the distance and you watch as your brother immediately stands up.

“What’s that all about?” you ask, slowly standing up. 

“That is the sound of evening service. Come! I’d love for you to see one of Father Méndez’s services.”

Taking your hand, Vince unblocks the door and takes you outside. You see all the villages are filling into the large brick building you had seen Leon standing in front of earlier.

“That’s the meeting house, we have to pass through it to get to the church,” he explains to you as he leads you to follow the other villagers inside the building. 

Upon walking in there is a large room, shelves of food and supplies lining the walls. In the back of the room was a large painting of a robed man; not Leon, but someone else, Vince notices you staring at the painting.

“That is our Lord Saddler. Hopefully you’ll get to meet him during your visit; he’s a wonderful patriarch, I think you’ll like him.”

There is something about the painting that unsettles you, but you can’t put your finger on it; nor do you have time to because before you know it, Vince is leading you into the adjacent room. This room has a large table lined with chairs on both sides. You both proceed around the table exiting out of the door on the other side with the other villagers. The door takes you out to a winding path which opens up to a cemetery with the church sitting just at the top of the hill.

You and your brother make your way up the hill, following the rest of the villagers into the church where you and your brother sit in one of the pews in the middle. There is an extremely tall man standing at the altar, wearing a black leather trench coat and a large brim hat. His dark beard has subtle white hairs, indicating to you that he’s much older than you and your brother. In fact, now that you think about it, you realize you and your brother are probably the youngest ones in the church.

Behind the imposing man is a large stained glass window decorated with red, blue, green and white. The white glass makes a pattern. You’re not sure what to make of it; it’s almost like a crude insect-like cross with four appendage-like parts extended out with a tail pointing downwards. Once everyone is seated in the pews, the man at the altar addresses the villagers.

“My brothers and sisters,” the man begins, his Hispanic accent thick, “before we begin tonight’s sermon, I wanted to welcome the visitor that Vincent has brought to visit our village.” The man gestures one of his hands towards us, “if you would do the honors, Vincent.”

Your brother stands up, “Gracias, Father Méndez. This is my younger sister,” he says before telling everyone your name, “she’ll be staying with me for a while, we haven’t seen each other since I first came here. I hope you all can join me in showing her what makes Los Iluminados a special community.”

The other villagers clap softly as Vince sits back down. After that, Father Méndez begins the service, which is in Spanish, so you strained your brain to try to pick up bits and pieces of what he’s saying. This doesn’t last long, however as your eye catches movement in the darkness in the back of the church. You feel your heart skip; it’s Leon again, his azure gaze once again locked on you. His expression is cold and emotionless, but there is no doubt in your mind that he is staring at you. 

As if sensing your unease, your brother nudges you with his elbow and whispers, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s Leon again…” you reply, nodding your head in Leon’s direction.

Vince’s gaze follows yours, spotting Leon staring at you from the back of the church. Vince lets out a soft sigh.

“I’ll talk to Father Méndez after the service.”

For the rest of the service, you steal glances towards the back of the church, where Leon remains, still staring at you. At the end of the service, however, when you look back, Leon is finally gone, much to your relief. 

Father Méndez’s booming voice draws your attention back to him, “¡Gloria a Las Plagas!”

“¡Gloria a Las Plagas!” the villagers, including Vince, repeat back.

Gloria a Las… Plagas? you think to yourself, glory to the… plague? Plagues? Pests? What? That makes no sense…

Before you can think it over further, your brother stands up abruptly, pulling you up with him.

“Pablo,” Vince says as he approaches another villager, “¿Puedes llevar a mi hermana de regreso a mi casa? Tengo que hablar con el padre Méndez.”

The man nods, “sí, claro.”

Vince turns his attention back to you, “Pablo here is going to take you back to my house while I talk to Father Méndez about Leon, ok? I won’t be long.”

“Alright, thanks Vince,” you reply as Pablo gently takes you by your upper arm, leading you out of the church.

You turn back, watching your brother approach Father Méndez before the church doors close behind you.

“Vincent,” Méndez begins as Vince approaches him, “what can I do for you, my brother?”

“It’s about Leon,” Vince says, crossing his arms, “I want him to leave my sister alone.”

“What do you mean? You do remember what you agreed to, no?” Méndez presses straightening his posture.

“I do remember, but he is scaring her. All he’s done since she got here is stare at her.”

“And? Are you saying you’re defying the will of Lord Saddler?”

“No, of course not!” Vince exclaims before lowering his voice, “but if we want any chance of her staying in Los Iluminados, he needs to chill out with the staring, ok? Is that too much to ask, Father?”

Méndez brings a hand to his beard, stroking it as he contemplates Vince’s request. After a few moments, he gently nods, “fine. I will speak with Lord Saddler on this.”

“Thank you, Father.”

She is perfect.

Leon stands at the end of the bed that you’re sleeping in, completely oblivious to his presence. Bringing his hands up, he lowers the hood of his cloak. The exposed skin on his neck and face are completely covered in inky black veins and seem to pulse under his skin. He gently crawls onto the bed, being careful not to wake you as he cages you with his body.

Leaning down so that his nose is nearly pressed against the side of your neck, he breathes in your scent deeply, opening his mouth slightly to lick his sharpened incisors with his tongue. He moves away from your neck, staring down at you as he watches your chest rise and fall gently as you slumber. Unable to help himself, he leans back down, his lips hovering above yours when he hears the unmistakable sound of the front door opening downstairs.

His head snaps towards the stairs, crawling off your bed with the grace and stealth of a panther. He brings his hood back up over his head, walking silently over to the open window at the head of the stairs where he had let himself in, climbing out and shutting the window carefully behind him, not leaving a single trace that he was even there.

Part 2

[mandalhoerian]

lamb to the slaughter | leon kennedy x reader

read part 1: moth to a flame pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader summary: ❛ You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. — Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince. ❜ It's as easy as that three word sentence for Leon to undo a month of moving on from him right after he comes back from Spain. Easy as surrendering to sleep. Eagerness for his uninhibited love makes you forget he isn't one to open up like that in the first place, you should have known the moment he showed up on your doorstep on his own volition that he wasn't your Leon. He'd only come back to spirit you away. Yet, each man kills the thing he loves, as a famous poet would say. But what about when the beloved lets herself be led to the killing? word count: Almost 25K (im sorry) warnings: DARKFIC, proceed with caution. porn with plot, switch leon, yandere leon (kinda? he's infected/plaga leon), lots of smut (face sitting, dry humping, couch sex, rough sex, mirror watching kinda its a window, chained leon, blowjob, tail riding, kinda bondage with chains, creampies, no protection dont be like this kids), jealousy, angst, things go to shit, abduction, leon infects you, protectiveness, confinement, psychic connection through plagas, corruption, consensual arousal-inducing venom. you got the bad ending. lmao dont look at me. we are not seeing the pearly gates notes: 🐑 i say bad ending for a reason, you can accept this as a sequel to moth to a flame or just ignore it! 🐑 leon's appearance here is inspired by the red eyes mod + the mechanic of his superior species is built on what we saw with krauser and all the plaga leon fanart i've seen. though he only lets his tail out and nothing else. 🐑 the pressure of leon's characterization got too much so i threw it all out of the window. now everyone can be equally upset. thank you for all the love, i hope you enjoy this!

🌀 read on ao3!

Leon comes back from Spain a bit different. 

Different is the specifically chosen word here because you’re not accustomed to seeing him like this. It might be you who’s the problem here, but right off the bat something’s out of place to you.

A pattern has been broken.

No contact with him for nearly a month and he appears on your doorstep one night with a dreamy smile on his face you could only imagine a younger, more carefree version of Leon could afford as if all the weight of this world has been lifted off his shoulders, and as if he isn’t here to pick up whatever he’s left behind after your break-up. 

You’re more flabbergasted than anything. He’s absolutely glowing. Healthy. His black compression shirt leaves little to the imagination underneath that leather jacket, and the tight jeans hug his legs in just the right places, your nose picking up the whiff of some rich cologne that would have you normally salivating over him had it not been for the timing. 

A delivery to home directly from your late night daydreams, tempting as a mirage in the middle of a desert, as he intends to be — you’re acutely aware why in the hell he’s dolled himself up at night knowing you’d be either reviewing some documents for work or getting ready for bed, all in your humble, homely peasant outfit. 

It doesn’t feel good knowing what might be the reason. Feels even worse sensing something’s up. 

The thing is… When Leon decides he’s done with ghosting you after the eventful business trips that have him dropping off the face of the earth, it’s almost always in bad shape. It’s rare that he breaks a bone or two, but purple, yellow and green are his colors, along with the sunken, red, and sleep-deprived, exhausted eyes. He comes back to you like a cat seeking refuge from the storm outside, for a safe place to get some rest where he can switch off the survival mode. And you’ve learned to prepare for these rainy days he tends to make his return on. 

This man standing in front of you with take-out dangling from his hand, relaxed and confident with light in his brilliant blues, perfectly silky hair, and a well-rested, handsome face that lacks all the gloom? You almost don’t recognize him. His soft and exuberant voice as he greets you, “Hey,” might as well belong to a stranger. “I look that bad? Haven’t seen you make that face in a while.”

“No,” you refuse automatically, squinting your eyes and trying to wipe the sleep off via rubbing, shaking the initial shock and the whiplash off, your hand tightens on the side of the door. The more entertaining quips have escaped you, such as: ‘More like, haven’t seen you in a while, and that, second.’ But of course your woozy first instinct is to relieve him, and rooting for how Leon can’t look bad even on the worst of days, but that’s irrelevant now, isn’t it? “Sorry, I’m a bit loopy.”

“Ah, shit.” He raises his wrist and shakes it so the sleeve of his jacket would pull back to reveal his watch. “I didn’t realize it was this late. God I am so sorry—”

“No, it’s fine—”

“I bring offerings for your time, if it’s any consolation.” He looks hopeful. God, when has he last been this youthful? It’s blinding. “Have dinner with me?”

You would have jumped at the offer one month ago and done your best to keep him around as long as possible, especially when he’s the best you’ve seen him in a long while — but he’s supposed to be a stranger to you now, an ex. You have tried to move on already, it’s such a betrayal to your overworked heart that the desire to bask in his presence is still strong as ever. 

“Hey, um.” Ever so slightly hiding behind the frame of the door, you watch as his face falls, your hesitance telling everything you can’t put into words out loud. “It’s too late for dinner.”

It comes out weird from your mouth, maybe you should have worded it differently — it feels like it’s not dinner you’re talking about, and him staring with a wrinkled line between his eyebrows as if he’s trying to control his countenance isn’t helping. 

“Should seriously focus on trying to break old habits,” he chuckles hesitantly, a voice crack towards the end of the sentence, and you have to break eye contact. “I forget my normal isn’t normal sometimes. I’m sorry.” 

You fold. 

Not because it’s what you always do, but to get whatever he wants out of the way and get him out of your life as abruptly as he decided to randomly come back today. You want this to be over already. “I’m making an exception for tonight, okay? You can’t come here like this anymore, Leon. Please understand.”

Leon's hopeful expectation slowly fades, replaced by a disappointed understanding. His eyes, once filled with a vibrant light, now dim slightly, and the confident aura that surrounded him wavers for a moment. He takes a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself, before nodding slowly.

"I see," he says, carrying a tinge of sadness, you kick yourself inwardly for wanting to reach out and comfort him. "I didn't mean to intrude. I just... I wanted to see you again… To—to explain, I mean."

His words catch your attention, curiosity sparking a small candle light within you. Despite the whirlwind of emotions and confusion, you find yourself opening the door wider, gesturing for him to step inside.The way he visibly relaxes, shoulders deflating and the flash of an involuntary relieved, tiny smile on his face before he follows you inside makes your chest contract in endearment. 

This is a grown man you decided to let go. This grown man walked out on you. This grown man made you lose years of your life. This grown man doesn’t need your protection, you shouldn’t want to hide him in your ribcage, you’d be taking in a fish instead of a bird. 

The aroma of the take-out food fills the room, teasing your senses and reminding you of all the shared meals and late-night conversations you used to have. Memories flood your mind, threatening to break down the walls you had carefully built to protect yourself.

God, it hurts. He brought your favorite that he doesn’t like all that much. 

You go ahead and settle at the dining table, the take-out boxes placed between you and where he usually sits — where he used to sit whenever he came over, your base instinct embarrasses you. And as you open the containers, you look back to see what’s taking him so long or if he’s left to wash his hands, and notice that he’s just standing there in the hall, engulfed by the shadows, looking alert in the direction of the living room. You can’t see his face. 

“Is everything alright?” you ask, weirded out by how tense he is suddenly. 

He turns to you, and the kitchen light reflects strongly in contrast from his eyes precisely because he stands in the dark, like some cat. “It… smells.”

“What?” You walk over to him, mortified, trying to pick up what he’s talking about. “Is it the floor cleaner? I changed it to lavender recently. What, you don’t like it?”

“No, you… You—” He takes a few slow steps away from you as if you said something hurtful to him, awe and betrayal taking over his features. 

“Leon,” you try to reach out, confused. 

He’s looking you up and down, the weird shock he went through transitioning into perturbance. “Who is it?”

“What are you talking about—?”

“There is someone else?” He points towards the living with his chin, a look of devastation twisting his forlorn features, arms basically flattened to his side. “You brought them here and— and—”

An icy wave of chills wash over your body. “How do you know that?”

“Because it smells.” He brings a hand up and puts it on his middle as if it’s hurting, alternating between rubbing his nose and down to his chest again, like he doesn’t know what to do with his body. “Shit.”

Leon's reaction takes you aback, his sudden accusations leaving you bewildered. This is the most ridiculous thing you ever heard, what is he, an animal?  “Smells? You smelled him?”

You can’t fathom how he could have possibly known about someone else in your life, let alone the details of their presence in your home.

He gestures with his hand and slaps it back to his side, pressing his lips into a thin line before speaking. “Wonderful.” 

Never in a million years would you have expected to see Leon get bothered by another person in your life. He just isn’t the type to react, this has happened before because of course you tried him, to see if he’d get jealous the way you did — he didn’t, something about you having the right to be with anyone you want and that he can’t stop you. This was early into your ‘arrangement’ — where the line was blurred between hanging out and sleeping together, and you were naive enough to bring the scattered, floating letters between him and you together to define the word. 

This right here has to be about something else, bitterness maybe, that you could move on from him. It gets you worked up, blood slowly heating up. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. We’re not anything, Leon. Not anymore.”

Leon's gaze hardens, and for a moment, it seems like the fragility of hurt and anger flashes and trickles in. He sharply inhales, his chest rising and falling as he tries to steady himself. "I know we're not anything." He flexes his jaw, turning his face to the side in self-inflicted disappointment. "And I’m the reason, that’s on me. But damn, it’s only been a month and I’ve been miserable while you—"

You take a step closer, looking to find the middle ground in all of this. "While I’m just going about my life.” Confusion swirls in your mind as you struggle to comprehend Leon's reaction.You hadn't anticipated such a visceral response from him. You don’t know why the next second you’re trying to smooth things over to spare him, there’s no need. But you still are doing it anyway. “And he and I are friends—"

He tilts his head, something entirely cold and hostile under unreactive stoicism squares his shoulders, it’s that perpetually uninviting face of his that scares everybody off. His nostrils flare, but his voice is low and smooth. “Friends that fuck on the couch?”

“How did you—” It’s the cold chills again. “This is getting weird. How can you know that?”

Leon's eyes narrow, and the tension in the room becomes almost palpable, your nervousness almost makes it like the blue of his irises are brighter. He drops to a low, dangerous tone, but he isn’t doing anything to be threatening, so why?—. “It’s dangerous, you know? Letting unknown guys into your home. Who knows what they have in mind? What they want to do to you?”

“Sex, Leon,” you bite back, a bull to red into your apprehension, thinking why in the hell should you be intimidated when he’s being the weird one, you still have to hear about how he knows about your relations. “We had sex. Don’t be dramatic.” 

He laughs in a way you’ve never seen before, and suddenly it’s making sense why you felt like something was wrong when you opened the door to him. Maybe he’s drunk on something different today and it’s influencing him. Different liquors have different attitudes. 

“I, on the other hand, have to still hear about how you know. Have you been spying on me?”

“I apparently should have.” 

“Excuse me?” You shake your head, trying to rationalize the situation where he is practically lacking, lost in his own head, his usual personality is currently unavailable to the call for reasons unbeknownst to you. He is a calm guy. Reasonable. You don’t get where this immaturity is coming from, anger-related or not. “Leon, you can’t just go ahead and talk lightly of invading my privacy! I don’t want to joke around right now!”

You should send him away to talk later, or both of your hearts are going to break ugly tonight.

Leon's gaze doesn't waver, his eyes narrowing with a mix of concealed pain and anger. "No, I wasn't spying on you," he retorts sharply, giving you the information you want to know. "But it's hard to miss when the person you care about moves on so quickly."

So he must have seen something? He came back from Spain earlier than you thought? Was this visit about interrogating you all along? 

You hate the way your hands warm up immediately with his admittance to caring about you, even though he will never outright say that he likes you or anything more. It’s unbelievable that’s what your heart decided to pick up on instead of literally anything else right now. 

The hall feels suffocating. It's as if the air itself has turned tar-thick. You take a step back, and escape into the kitchen, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the rising storm of confusion.

“I thought you wanted this. Why would me moving forward be a problem?”

“Because I can’t.” 

You want to yell at him. Why should that be your problem? He wanted this. You prepared yourself because he was perpetually with a suitcase in his hand, so much so you can’t imagine his visage otherwise.

Be calm about this. You’re a grown adult. 

"I don’t understand.” Hands grabbing at the handles of a chair, you spare a glance at him over your shoulder. "I thought we would give each other space, go our own ways."

A bitter laugh escapes Leon's lips, devoid of any humor. "Space? That's just another word for running away, isn't it? And haven’t you immediately found someone else to run towards? That’s how important I was to you, huh?"

The accusation stings, and you struggle to find the right words to defend yourself, his honesty coercing the affection out of you within the ice of self-preservation. "Leon, it's not like that. I’m trying to navigate my life, this isn’t me trying to get back at you or hurt you."

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration carved into every line of his face. "Well, congratulations. You succeeded anyway."

This is getting ridiculous. You don’t know how to handle the situation because he never put you in one like it in the first place. 

How are you the guilty one? How is the blame on you, now? Why? Being with him was slow torture, loving him was a doomed gambit, and now he has the gall to make you into the bad guy — for what, prioritizing yourself for once? 

The silence hangs heavily between you, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city outside. It feels as though the foundations of your bond are crumbling beneath the weight of unresolved emotions, the connection you once shared now seems fragile, teetering on the edge of irreparable damage that you’re not sure you want to let go even though it really is the best solution to let it be. You remember how you told him that break-ups don’t always have to end in fights, it seems how the afterward would be like hasn’t crossed your mind at all. 

“Ironic of you to say that,” you mumble, turning away from him with a disbelieving smile, hands on your hips. 

“What?”

“I said,” you turn around, cold anger freezing your features in a silent mask. “That’s rich coming from you. Running away, I mean. All this time I’ve known you, you’ve run away from me—” With each example you give, you take one slow step towards him. “From intimacy, from a deeper connection. I know you couldn’t help but be away for your job and that’s not the issue here.” You stop right in front of him, seething, looking up, doing your best to keep your shit together as you shake a finger at him. “But you don’t have the right to accuse me of running away.” 

He just stands there like a statue. Doesn’t move. Doesn’t look away. As if this means nothing at all to him, forever the unaffected, desensitized man that he is. You have to flatten your lips to keep them from quivering.

“I’ve had to chase you like some race horse while you were sitting right next to me,” you jab that finger into his chest, not to get something out of him, but because the floodgates were finally open. “I have betted on losing dogs this entire relationship.” Another jab. “I let you treat me like a doormat.” Jab. “I gave you the patience and understanding some mothers wouldn’t give to their children—” And it finally ends with a slap with the back of your hand on his wall of a chest. “Because god smite me I made the mistake of falling in love—” A fucking joyful, pretty sparkle in his eyes that has his eyebrows lifting. It bloods your boil like nothing else. “—-and all of this for you to come into my home and pick a fight over who I fuck after breaking up with me?” You push him — or, rather, try to push him further back into the hall, and when it doesn’t work, raise your arm to point to the door. “Get out.”

Leon's jaw tightens as he stares at you and you see it jump, his gaze piercing through you, ablaze. He tries to grab you by the elbows but you shake him off. “Sweet girl, I—”

The nickname has you on the edge of crumbling and you ricochet back as if burned. “No, nuh-uh,” you rapidly shake your head and one hand at him, eyes burning, deliberately looking at his shoulder not to make eye contact. “You don’t get to call me that anymore. No. Just go. Get out of my house.”

The room plummets into an agonizing quietness filled by the heavy breathing you’re doing your best to stop from shaking as Leon stands there, his hand still lingering, frozen in a futile attempt to reach out to you standing in the light of the kitchen, and him in the shadows. The absoluteness of your words is the hammer of a judge about to fall on his head, sharpened by your anger and the shattered remnants of your flightless hopes. 

You never wanted this. It had ended so peacefully, why was he back as a vengeful ghost bringing the worst out of you — why now? Why?

Finally, Leon lowers his hand, his gaze falling to the floor. There's a momentary lowering of his guard that flickers across his face, a crack in the armor he usually wears. "I know I messed up, and I've been running away. But it's not because I don't care, it's because... I'm — I couldn’t give you anything. Not anything you deserved. Not everything I wanted. And I couldn’t face any of that without having to confront I needed to get out of your life," he says softly, caked with remorse and self-hatred. “Like being somewhere between life and death, I didn’t know what to do, how to move forward.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you feel your anger momentarily waver, you’ve seen the pain in his eyes before, the demons that haunt him from his past — you understand, you understand. In every reality possible, you’d understand, even when you don’t know. “I know, Leon.” The acknowledgment leaves you pained, but this time, don’t give anything in consolation, don’t justify the harmful outcomes of his escapism just so he wouldn’t be scared and pull himself back. Yes, you know. But that’s it. It has to be enough.  

“I want you to also know — I’m not that man anymore.” He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out tentatively, but you flinch away, unwilling to let him touch you, and he stands right at the threshold of shadows bleeding away into the light streaming from the room behind you. 

"Are you seriously about to tell me you changed, Leon? Really? No, I know you," you assert, your voice tinged with skepticism and a lick of frustration. Folding your arms across your chest, you wait for his response, your gaze fixed on him, brows furrowing but a slight smile souring your lips. “But I’ll humor you. Tell me, what could have possibly happened in such a short amount of time, because I’m not having it if it’s about us separating—” It’s mean, the way you outright grin at him, one small part of you regrets laughing at his face when he’s declaring he’s changed, but you can’t stop the poison from wanting to sink into his skin, from wanting to see yourself affecting him. “You, my late blooming pupa, had two whole years to break out of your cocoon. Don’t even waste your breath.”

Leon meets you head on, unfazed by your demeanor, it makes you feel like a child when you were in the right, brings sense to you that this was Leon you were trying to hurt, you knew he wouldn’t give you excuses some man after some piece of ass would — the hurt is bringing the girl out of you that wants to maim as she has been maimed, and he just stands there and takes it as if he wants to show you he’s had way worse before. It isn’t fair.

He takes a moment to steady himself, his hand unconsciously fidgeting with the edge of his jacket as he prepares to explain, raising his hands up and tracing the invisible line of the veins inside his wrist. His body language conveys a distant sense of sincerity. 

"I received a gift that opened my eyes," he confesses, his voice carrying a brooding, yet grateful significance. His eyes momentarily drift, as if lost in memories of what transpired. His fingers continue to rub along the veins, he’s recalling something, it’s not a self-soothing nervous habit that betrays his inner turmoil.

Your skepticism wavers, switched with a curious glimmer. The lamb sees the slaughterhouse and thinks it’s home again. You unfold your arms, inching closer as you invite him to elaborate. 

"It saved me. Gave me a new life. Changed me.” He pauses, looking far, far away again. “It changed everything," Leon states with a sense of conviction. He stands a little taller, his demeanor transformed by the profound impact of this revelation.

Your eyes flit in rapid blinking, captivated by his warm, honest intensity. A welcoming, pleasant surprise lingers on your face as you take in the magnitude of what he's sharing.

"Changed everything?" you question, holding back your wonder and uncertainty in fear of disappointment. Your body involuntarily leans forward, drawn in by where he’s taking this.

"Yeah. For good this time. Because I’m not… bound anymore, I’m not trapped. For the first time in forever, I know what it’s like to be truly free.” 

“Oh…” You begin to speak, but words escape you. He is uninhibited, truly elated, that soft smile on his face doesn’t carry the anxiety of what comes next. This is a first for Leon Kennedy. When you remember you mocked what might have happened to him, it fills you with shame. So, something truly wonderful did happen — could happen. It has to do with his job, that much you know. No wonder he’s insisting things have changed, what he does for a living is what haunts him like a shadow, after all, you couldn’t be more aware of that. “I’m… I’m happy for you, then, Leon. I don’t know what to say.”

“You’re not wrong for doubting me. I did.” He looks down at his arms, clenching and unclenching his fists. “I believed I had changed before, you know — had been changed, whatever you wanna call it... Because I had to," Leon admits with introspection. He pauses, searching for the right words to convey the depth of his experience. 

"Then someone I know told me no, you haven't, you just think you have. And both of those options are worse than each other in retrospect, don't get me wrong,” his voice cracks slightly, revealing the conflict within him. There's a flicker of nostalgia and longing. 

He takes a steadying breath, his eyes locked onto yours, conveying a yearning for understanding. This is the most open he’s been with you, the most you’ve seen of him, you’re hypnotized.

"I envy who I was in 1998, but I don't want to be him. The me one month ago is superior, but he was miserable and fucking blind," Leon confesses, the air around him somehow gravitating towards him, becoming hard to breathe because of how hard he’s frowning. Self-deprecating. And his eyes are on you again, back to the moment. “You wanna know how I know I’m different now? I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything.”

He steps forward, into the kitchen, into the light, and shadows dance on his face, and you know what this is — the cat has decided he wants pets, seeking to butt his head into you to initiate contact, and you step backward with the sudden panic sinking in your stomach, but he keeps advancing the more you back off. 

“I’m not afraid anymore,” he rasps, and you make a small sound at the back of your throat. “Not afraid of what I want. Not afraid of wanting. Not afraid of what comes next.”

“Leon—” you interrupt, hands shooting forward, hovering just between you two, feeling his body heat, but terrified of touching him in fear of what might ignite inside you if you do. 

But he catches both your hands, intertwining your fingers and pinning them on two sides of you on the counter the moment your hips hit the lip of it, and you’re immediately steaming underneath your skin, shutting your eyes and turning your face away as his body snuggles in, flush against you. 

“It’s pathetic, the person I used to be—” he breathes, a gentle invitation, a subtle beckoning, though his words are harsh, he’s uttering them so sweetly like it’s a love letter to you, and hot wind from his words licks the side of your face, you can feel the feathery touch of his lips moving a hair’s breadth from your cheek. Your heartbeat is hammering. “He would have bitten his tongue and gone right back home to lick his wounds. Never see you again. He would think it’s what’s best for you, that he’s protecting you this way.”

You swallow, and he chases the motion, head following the movement. His nose caresses the column of your neck, the sigh that escapes his lips echoes the hidden depth of his desires, an unspoken language of pining. 

Your breath catches in your throat as Leon's increasing body heat and tantalizing weight knead and melt you like dough, his words moving you from within, his proximity creating a charged volume that crackles with tension and desire you were fighting so hard to deny. Every fiber of your being is acutely aware of his presence, his warmth pressing against you, and the raw defenselessness he's revealing. 

You missed this. You missed this. You missed this. 

The blood coursing through your veins sings to him, sings for him, and you’re alive again after one month of absolute emptiness, and hate him for doing this to you.

Love him for coming back. 

His grip on your hands tightens, and you can feel the tremor in his touch, mirroring the intensity of his emotions. “Look at me.” 

You know you don’t want to, because if you were to see him right now, what he’s showing, what he’s finally allowing you to see, you wouldn’t know how to look away ever again — don’t want to hurt.

Your own heart races in response, fear and anticipation swirling within you. And he places his knuckles on your chin, gently guiding you to face him, “Don’t look away.”

Your glazed over eyes lock with his in a moment that feels suspended in time.

"Leon..." you murmur with a blend of longing and caution. The weight of unspoken possibilities bursts in color in the air between you, begging for acknowledgment.

He nuzzles closer, his lips grazing your skin with feather-light touches. Your body reacts instinctively, a tremble washing through you as his sigh tickles your neck. It's as if the world around you fades away, leaving only the magnetic pull between you, drawing you inexorably closer. It’s sweetness so intense it’s trying to hold back the bitterness, a muzzle on a hungry dog’s jaw. 

His voice, a whisper against your ear, is temptation, a pied piper. "I don't want to make the same mistakes anymore. I can't keep denying what I truly want, what my heart desires. I can’t lose you. I’m not losing you. Not like this. Please."

The admission electrifies the mood. Time stands still as you process everything, mind foggy, your own desires intertwining with his. It's a precarious precipice you find yourselves on, teetering between the past and the mirage of a future, between fear and the possibility of something more.

“That’s awfully self-centered,” you laugh weakly, not knowing if this is you unable to look away from his lips or unable to bring yourself to meet his gaze. “What if it’s too late? What if that ship has already sailed?”

He nudges your nose with his, bringing his forehead to rest against yours. “You don’t want me? Look into my eyes when you tell me, then.”

In that moment, you make a choice. With an upsurge of courage, you do as he asks, searching his need-darkened patience waiting for you, and you let your guard down. Closing the remaining space between, your lips find his in a tender yet fervent kiss, an unspoken consent that verbalizes everything. 

God, you want this man with all your being. One moment of vulnerability, the confirmation you needed for so long from him was enough to melt all your walls down and conquer without war — the things you let him do to you… 

What was tenderness from you ricochets back from him as desperation, he licks into your mouth like a man starved, and a sigh shudders from Leon, you feel it roll through his entire body. He catches your waist in a tight, unyielding grip, his touch conveying a scared need to hold on to you, as if to make sure you're real, and not a fleeting dream. 

“Fuck, I want you so bad. Never wanted more in my goddamn life.” The pent-up tension and unspoken emotions flow between you, igniting a flame that burns brightly, dispelling any doubts or regrets. “Let me have you. Please, let me have you.”

“Give me half of you, and I’ll give you half of me.” His lips, soft and warm, melded with yours in a passionate embrace, separate with a wet pop. “How’s that for a start?”

Leon's lips attempt to dip into yours again, but he wavers to a panting stop, leaving a lingering, ticklish warmth in their wake. His declaration, filled with a mix of intoxication and determination, spills forth. “‘ll give you all of me,” he mutters, his kisses raining down upon your skin in a frenzy of affection. “—Give you all my love. Want all of yours, too.” 

Love. He said love. 

Someone must have hit you over the head, you feel like it, all breath is knocked out of your lungs.

Leon pulls back only inches when he feels you freeze in his arms, and you see it in his eyes — he doesn’t try to hide it… 

And you realize, you’ve seen the ghost of this look before, the shyer one, the more apprehensive, curt one that was prone to hiding away. The pure adoration on his face makes him look younger, like a whole other man. 

Yet, you ask. It’s all you’ve ever wanted from him, only a passing acknowledgement and you’re a sunflower bending over backwards with the first rays of the sun. "You love me?"

Your stomach does a summersault at feeling his heart miss a beat.  "Y... yes?" he stutters, his voice rising. "Yeah."

All that romantic talk. All the insane things he said, and it’s scary to him when the word is spelled out loud. 

The room goes completely noiseless for a moment, your ribcage might as well explode at this point, and then he lets out an audible sigh, trying to calm himself down. "Is that so strange to you?" he adds. "Is that... something you... don't want?"

He knows what you feel. Known it all along, danced around it for both your sakes. Yet, he’s still asking — exposing that defenseless underbelly of his that reveals he thinks he’s unlovable, not worth it, skeptic that someone could want him in that way. 

His eyes stay locked with yours, but some of his confidence seems to have drained away. All that's left is his look of pure, unbridled infatuation, and the expression of genuine, unwavering honesty.

Your mouth seems to have gone dry, heartbeat picking up, stomach swirling, looking at him like he's out of this world, eyes flying everywhere on his face. No words come to mind for a good while. It’s a slow blooming flower at first, but the beaming of your smile takes him aback. “It’s all I wanted,” you practically exhale. 

He makes a small noise of relief and chokes out a smile. 

As your lips mold together again, a new symphony of sensations unfolds. His kiss has the devotion of held-back hunger, lips seeking and exploring every contour of yours, and you surrender completely. To how he desires you, to the intoxicating pull between you, letting your inhibitions fall away. There is only the searing heat of his touch, the intoxicating sweet taste of his mouth, the mint from an already discarded gum and something uniquely Leon, and the synchronization of your combined breaths.

He moves downwards to take nip at the corner of your mouth and then your chin, a soft hum escapes from deep within you, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure he makes you feel by the littlest of sensualities.

“Leon…” Your hands find their way to his tousled hair and a waft of his shampoo fills your nose, you pull him closer, yearning for more of him. The room fills with the heady scent of desire, starting to pool deep in your stomach drop by drop.

He bites down on your jaw, knowing just how to make it pleasurable and not hurt, and you gasp out loud. “Sweet girl, my sweet girl,” he chants. His lips find their way to the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing a path of feverish kisses and gentle nips. “My sweet girl.” Each sensation sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, leaving you rasping and yearning for more. 

You arch into him. His hands, now guided by a primal instinct, roam freely over your body. They explore every curve and dip, tracing the contours of your silhouette as if committing every inch to memory. Fingers dance along your spine, leaving a trail of delicious shivers in their wake, before finding solace in the small of your back. 

With a firm yet gentle grip, he lifts you effortlessly, placing you on the counter, the cool surface contrasts with the scorching heat that burns even your palms up as he slots between your legs immediately afterwards. 

With a delicate yet possessive grip, his hands glide along your upper thighs, and a needy warmth trickles down to the crevice he grinds his crotch against, the roughness of his jeans delectable against where you need him. 

Your own hands, emboldened, mirror his actions, eagerly exploring the planes of his chest, nails dragging through the fabric. Overwrought fingers interchange between pulling on his leather jacket and the compression shirt that hugs him so tight it won't stretch. “Get this off."

A low growl reverberates deep in Leon's chest as your hands keep hungrily tugging at his clothing, seeking to peel away the layers that separate you. “In the kitchen? That impatient for me?” 

Ah, he’s trying to embarrass you. Not going to work. “Shut up you hypocrite, you made me come on your thigh in broad daylight, in the kitchen.”

“I don’t remember you complaining,” he grins against your lips, and you feel him grow bigger, straining against the cage of his jeans. “God, you were so fucking hot using me like that. Want to see you more — pleasure yourself more — in front of me. I was about to make a mess of my pants like some teenager, just looking at you and,” he rocks both of you upwards as he babbles, and your hands glide down to cradle his flaming neck, your eyes closing, head spinning with his words. “Your pussy on me, shit. I still feel it.”

“Stop running your mouth and get these off then,” you half-heartedly order, not at all an attempt to hide how turned on you are and practically dying to feel him already. 

He opts to tease, “What the lady wants, the lady gets,” like he’s only doing it because you asked him to, but he willingly complies, his movements hinting to be fueled by a shared hunger and a desire to feel your touch against his bare skin.

The leather jacket slides off his shoulders, revealing the sculpted contours of his chest, accentuated by the tight shirt that clings to him. And in one motion, that’s also off, you don’t even get to watch how his muscles ripple and flex, but your hands are on him right after, groaning at just how high his body temperature is, how wildly his heart is beating underneath your palm.

Your mind short-circuits at something foreign wiggling underneath your palms on his chest and not at the way he’s sucking red flowers on the underside of your thrown back chin. 

Your mind can be playing tricks on you, because you swear you can feel something move underneath his skin that’s not tendons, but before you can dwell on it, his lips, now free from their exploration of your neck, capture yours once more in a searing kiss, filled with a soulful need, an unspoken plea for more, as if he wants to consume every ounce of you. 

“Can’t believe kissing alone feels this good,” he says. “I could just do this all day. Have you on my lap, underneath me, above me, and just.” Your lips are teasingly bitten and tugged on. “Have this to myself.”

As his hands continue their tantalizing journey along your thighs, inching higher, you find yourself surrendering to the exquisite sensations. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, craving more friction as the restlessness grows tighter. 

The hardness of his crotch presses against the heat between your legs, creating a delicious ache that demands to be satisfied. He hisses and sighs into your mouth. “Fuck, I can’t wait. Hold on to me.” 

Leon has his arms locked tight around your legs clamped on his legs the next second, and begins to carry you out the kitchen as you hold onto his shoulders, once again in awe of how easy it is for him to manhandle you like this without at least grunting. 

You think he’s taking you to your bedroom and worrying if you left it too messy, but where you find yourself sprawled on your back instead, is the fucking couch in your living. 

The couch your one night stand had his way with you on. 

You sense a subtle shift in the currents of his shadowy gaze bearing down on you, in the flicker of his eyes, in the tightening of his jaw, that you glimpse a revelation you have not anticipated hidden beneath layers of charm and composure, the shifting of tectonic plates beneath calm waters. It’s uncharted territory. A dormant beast awoken from slumber, his demeanor betrays an unfamiliar greedy intensity that enthralls you. Once soft, subtle adoring nature of his, now holds a smidge of territorial longing, as if he yearned to claim you as his own, to wrap you in the cocoon of his desires, the undercurrent untamed, raw, unfamiliar — both to you and him. You’re no stranger to his intensity, his passion, but this is foreign to you. 

With surprised anticipation, you laugh to hide the nervousness. “I didn’t know you could be jealous.”

“I didn’t know I was capable of it either.” His big palm comes down on your stomach, fingers fanned out, and it drifts up as if he’s just taking you in, with some pressure sinking into you, and your shirt rides up because of it, exposing your stomach all the way to the beginnings of your lower ribs. “Of this much need to monopolize.” 

He hooks a strong arm around your waist and tugs you a bit up to meet his descending mouth to your revealed abdomen, leaving wet kisses and kitten bites all over, teasing by faking you out that he’ll go higher to play with your aching breasts, the tip of his nose touching the bottom curve of one and then going lower. Either way, it’s your loss, heat keeps pooling in the ever-so-hungry pit as your panties become uncomfortable already. He knows how to build you up.  “It’s so ugly in my head right now because of this goddamn smell—and all I think is what I’m looking at right now was seen by another man. Wanna fucking tear into you to get rid of it.”

You quip, “Does he smell that bad?” amused, an attempt to distract yourself from how easy he has you, hands finding his hair again and tugging, eliciting muffled groans from Leon, but the promise of roughness thrills you, the shiver going through you perking your nipples up. You honestly didn’t know he had this much of a sensitive nose up until today, goes to show how little of himself he showed you in the past. 

“He reeks.” He drags his blunt nails through the line of your waist soothing it with feathery, tickling, lazy strokes of faint pleasuring zaps as he bucks into your clothed core, drawing hisses and gasps from both of you. The rough zipper line of his jeans accentuated by his hardness hits just the right spot, you could do this forever — gosh, you have a wet spot in your panties, it feels gross but it’s so warm and it’s so good — 

Oh you love the way his eyes darken, the way his voice deepens ever so slightly when things you never thought would come from him in a million years are sent your way, goosebumps awaken all over you at the, god, you can’t believe you’re saying possessiveness. “We could, you know, get it reupholstered. If you’re paying for it—” 

“I have a better idea,” A devilish smirk curls at the corners of Leon's lips as he lifts his head from your abdomen, eyes glinting. His grip on your waist shifts to the waistband of your pants, teasingly tracing the edge. “How about instead I reclaim it so you won’t be able to sit on it ever again without getting so hot and bothered by what I did to you here. Hm?”

His touch sends invigorating currents coursing through your body, pooling desire between your thighs. You arch your back, wordlessly urging him to continue. and he kneads your hips, digging into your flesh with a delicious pressure. “I’ll make my sweet girl so fucked out stupid she forgets any touch that came before me.” He squeezes once and your cunt just throbs. “Only remembers my name.”

Fucking hell. 

"But if it bothers her, I'll consider reupholstering," he continues, a hint of playfulness there. "She’ll just have to pay in other ways."

A mischievous gleam dances in your eyes as you match his playful banter. "Oh, I have a feeling I can think of a few ways to make it worth your while," you purr, your fingers still tangled in his strands, urging him to bring his lips back to yours.

“That right?” Leon's chuckle reverberates through his chest, vibrating against your skin. He leaves a trail of heat and moisture on your stomach as he climbs up, capturing your mouth in a hungry kiss, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth with a fervor matched only by his growing desire.

His heat washes over you, and your breath hitches as you struggle to control the rising tide of need, and you can’t stop the small whine from escaping when he tempts. “How would she like it?” with hooded eyes, you see him imagining — thinking, living the filth out in his brain and not hiding it from you at all. The thought of being completely consumed by him, of surrendering to his desires, sends a torrent of suspense coursing through your veins.

With deliberate slowness, his fingers dip beneath the waistband of your pants, grazing over the sensitive skin of your lower abdomen, and you nod fervently, wanting Leon to stop with the leisurely approach and just fucking throw you around or bury his fingers into your pussy already — “Use your words sweet girl.” He chuckles when he sees the delicately restrained agitation of yours, his touch is both gentle and possessive, his fingertips tracing maddening circles that dangle you over promised pleasure.

His piercing stare ensnares you, a captivating force that renders you powerless. His inquiry lingers, emphasized by his almost restlessly eager fingers massaging your skin, akin to a tantalizing vow of sensual delight. In this very instant, a revelation dawns upon you—Leon's unchained greed does not arise from insecurity alone; rather, they stem from an unquenchable thirst to know you’re his, to conquer every fragment of your being and eliminate any shadow of uncertainty.

In a flurry of emotions, your words spill forth, infused with a potent blend of yearning and submission. “Take me, I want you to take me. Wanna feel only you…” Succumbing to the irresistible yearning surging through your veins, you surrender yourself to the overwhelming craving that courses within you. “Any way you want.”

His jaw falls open slightly in shock, like the shape of language has left him, hold stilling around you in an iron grip — the way his cheekbones get slightly pinked gets you bucking up to him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smile, extending your arms at him like you’re asking for a hug. “Make me forget however you like.”

His chest expands with the big breath he sucks in, a guttural growl escaping his throat, a primal sound that makes him feel almost inhuman with another trick of the light that makes his veins appear darker, dancing, almost, as he pulls you up, leaves you dizzy with how quick he reverses your positions, it’s his back on the plush cushions now, one knee bent a little bit and you on top of him, straddling his lap. He’s looking up at you, and you flash to how you had him exactly that way before he left for Spain.

“Sit on my face.”

You blink a couple times. “What?”

His fingers catch the band of your pants and underwear. “I want you to ride my face.” The small grin that breaks out on his face after licking his lips is downright sinful. “Wanna be fucking suffocated by you.”

“Will you be alright—”

“It’s nothing to me,” The persuasion is nonchalant, like he has experience being waterboarded and it’s something trivial. “I said I’d make you remember me whenever you sit on this couch, didn’t I?” 

His request is bold, ramming the boundaries of your comfort zone, there’s the fear of crushing him and there’s the embarrassment of how he’d receive your weight, yet overcome by the part of you that craves to fulfill his desires, overtaken by how he always wants to give pleasure and not take it. 

You slowly rise from his lap, and he momentarily releases you from his hold. Your hands tremble slightly as you reach for the waistband of your pants, undoing them and sliding them down your legs, along with your underwear, his dilated pupils are fixated on the silvery thread of your arousal stretching. Your heartbeat quickens, a flush heating your body up at the deep assertion of, “Attagirl. Come here.”

With a deep sigh, you find the courage to surrender to the experience, encouraged by how much he seems to want this. You shift your position, allowing him to steer you to straddle his face, your knees sinking into the soft cushions on either side of his head. Your core hovers tantalizingly close to his waiting mouth, aching for the pleasure he promises to deliver. 

Not knowing when his hand sneakily crawled between your legs, you are caught by surprise when he drags a finger through your slit, gathering the moisture and spreading it around. “This all for me?”

“Hmmm,” you confirm, heartbeat shooting straight downwards, pulsing against his finger. “All for you.”

“Don’t be shy, take a seat,” A deep rumble vibrates in his chest, he’s looking drunk already, and you twitch upwards with the way hits your wetness, then, he’s massaging the tension of your thighs holding your body up. “All of your weight, sweet girl. Don’t hold back. Just sit. I promise I’ll make you feel so good, it’ll feel so good, just—” He raises his head to lick an galvanizing stripe right where you want him and you moan, the experience all the more elevated by being able to see how his eyes flutter close as if he’s feeling in and the focused pinch of his eyebrows. 

Trembling legs weakened by his begging, you begin to lower yourself onto him, the searing, wet warmth of his breath against your sensitive, aching folds making you gasp. His hands guide you and you hold onto his bulging biceps, his touch firm yet gentle as he helps you find the perfect angle, anchoring you in place. 

“Le – ah! Leo—n!” You can’t even arch off from the couch when his mouth dives into your tender cunt, only able to throw your head back and tremor in place because he has you in an iron grip against him, fingers sinking into the plush of your hips the moment he hears the stutter of your sweet whining. 

He hums, and you feel the vibrations reverberate inside you, mouth hanging open when his tongue delves in, as well. 

“So good — shit…” You fall forward, hands finding purchase on the armrest of the couch, your nails digging into the fabric as his skilled tongue dances against your most sensitive parts, exploring and teasing with an expertise that leaves you respiring, a particularly shocking jolt of ache striking and leaving your vision with dancing stars when he gently nips at your clit with his teeth, your hips spasming, but unable to even squirm in peace because he won’t let you move away from him. “That! That — ah, yes, yes!”

He is just delighted and it shows in his excited panting when it gets you to start rocking your hips in sync with him, and after a while, falling back and letting you take control of the pace. 

He traces delicate patterns against your most intimate parts, setting a pattern and then breaking it, building you up and pulling you back down, teasing and exploring with a fervent hunger. “That’s perfect — yes, Leon, you’re making me feel so good, you’re — hmm! —”

The groaning moan is swallowed by an even prettier whine when you pull on his hair, it wasn’t the intention to get him to do this, you were just particularly feeling good, but you try again, and he shudders this time, a more restrained version of the sound, you swear, literally makes you gush. 

“You sound — you sound so pretty moaning from making me feel good— So pretty—” You can’ complete the sentence as he sucks on your clit, only able to babble. “So pretty, so pretty…!”

You absolutely weren't expecting being accidentally called pretty would be the final straw to start palming himself against his jeans and fucking dry hump his hand, leaving only one hand to hold you down, and he wraps his entire arm around your waist to staple you to his mouth, you feel the veins and the flexing muscles on your skin from how much strength he’s using, and it’s enough to heighten the throb in your cunt.. 

“You’re gonna come in your pants from eating me out?” The bucking of your hips becomes harsher, faster, the coil in your stomach tightening just from seeing his blissful mien and urgency of his hip thrusts, walls contracting around his tongue. “That’s so fucking sexy—”

The pleasure builds, spiraling higher and higher, each flick of his tongue sending you higher and higher, his ability to read just when you get close is exquisite, and you enjoy him slowing you down, each flick and swirl of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy, but not quite getting you there, his own hand matching that pace and edging himself on, as well. 

The world narrows down to the sensations between your legs, the sound of your own moans building in speed and pitch mingling with his fervency, a blast of heat building deep within you unexpectedly fast, like dropping from the peak of a roller coaster, a wildfire spreading. “So close, so close, so close so closesoclose!”

You cry out his name as your pleasure crescendos, he holds your gaze the entire time through it, an explosion of sensation that engulfs you in waves of ecstasy, your voice mingling with his muffled groans of satisfaction against your sensitive flesh, body oscillating with pleasure, every nerve ending electrified by the intoxicating completion Leon provides — and he laps everything up, 

He does not give you one single break. 

The next second, you’re knocked on your back, and then flipped on your stomach like a ragdoll, and he shoves you up toward the other armrest of the couch until you have to hold onto it and hold yourself up — and you have to, from how much your thighs are trembling. You don’t even have the time to look back after hearing the frantic fumbling of his zipper being pulled down before feeling his rock-hard length gliding through your puffed and abused cunt, and a pained whine shakes your body as you snap your knees shut. “Leon—Leon—I can’t—”

“You can,” he coats himself in your dripping wetness, and you’ve accidentally created more friction for him by snapping your legs together, he’s just dragging himself against you, not entering, but pushing strong enough that it gets you to shake and squirm to get away, but he hooks one arm across your torso and grips your shoulder, pulling you up so your back is flush against his sweaty, burning chest. He extends an arm and places his hand just beside yours for support. “You’re so perfect taking everything I give you. My sweet girl, always so good to me, so gorgeous — just look at you.”

He gently nudges your chin up to get you to look at something, and —

You are looking straight at the reflection of yourself in the window ahead, Leon’s chin on your other shoulder, he is also staring, watching you there — both of you look so fucked out already. 

He seems to be in a more of a drunken daze than you are, his hair is so sexily messed up as if it was deliberately styled, the fact that it was you has you clenching around nothing. You hiss when the head of his cock slips in momentarily, only to slip out as he keeps the motion of sliding back and forth,  teasing, edging, your moans become softer, yelp-ushered, and shorter.  

“Look how pretty you are,” he nips at your earlobe, looking straight into your eyes in the window. You see the raw desire etched across your face, the sheen of sweat glistening on your skin, and the unbridled lust that courses through your veins — the sight of yourself, lost in the throes of passion, sends a rush of arousal through you. 

He begins to bite and suckle at your neck and shoulder as the edging persists, the tension within you, yet again, beginning to stretch beyond belief without a snap at horizon, your whole body is quivering at how fast it’s coming down on you. 

“I’m gonna— Leo–n, please, please—!”

You’re teetering on the edge of ruin, the need for release becoming all-consuming. You cling to his well-built, thick arm holding you to his chest, seeking an anchor amidst the overwhelming pleasure. A particularly sharp bite at the most meaty part of your shoulder makes you cry out and he begins mumbling in your ear, needy, and keeps up the same pace just for your pleasure even though he sounds so needy. “Come for me, I want it, pretty girl, come on, give it to me—” 

With a final plunge, Leon relinquishes the tease and thrusts deep inside you, filling you completely to the hilt, and your vision goes completely white as pleasure crashes over you in a wave of intensity, your body attempting to thrash around with the force of your orgasm, his chest shudders at your strangled cry. 

He stays buried deep within your convulsing walls and just breathes and softly hisses as you come down from your high, following you as you fall forward to rest your head on your forearms on the armrest. 

He plants kisses on the ball of your shoulder, trailing a line all the way to the other one, and then coming back to your nape. “You okay?”

You whine in response, completely blissed, and feel him jump inside you.

He sighs with force. “Don’t rile me up like that just yet.”

“‘m not doin’ ‘nything…”

“You don’t know what you do to me.” His chest rumbles from how thick and deep his voice lowers, albeit in affection. “You could be watering flowers or something and I’d go out of my mind for you.”

You weakly sputter in laughter, heart expanding nonetheless. “Watering flowers?”

“Yeah, I mean—”

“Couldn’t you have chosen something mundanely and unconsciously sexy. Like, I don’t know, sitting and reading a book?”

He scoffs, but you can tell he’s tiredly endeared. “Reading is sexy to you?”

“Well. You squint your eyes and clearly need glasses but the concentration is definitely hot.”

“I don’t need glasses.”

“You do. Leon, baby, you squint when you’re trying to read—”

“Maybe because I’m trying to understand what I read—”

“You don’t understand anything you read, then? Because you do it all the time.”

“That’s ridiculous, I’ve never had a problem with my vision.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah, sure, dumb jock of mine.”

He responds with one singular fast and shallow thrust, testing the waters, lips curling up against your shoulder at the sweet sound rising from you. “You must have gotten the rest you needed if you’re sassing me.” 

“Fuck—” you hiss at the stretch, so delicious, stings so good. “Leon, can we just—”

“No,” He presses you forward, squishing you, and one of your hands digs into the armrest and the other one on his forearm that lines like a special pillow just for you to bury your head in. Your teary eyes accuse him in the window, your mind playing tricks on you again and makes it seem like they flash a deep red at you like some demon in your imagination. “Eyes on the window, watch me.”

He starts torturously slow, setting a lazy ebb and flow, the tip of his cock aimed to hit your G-spot every time he inches into you, his fingers are curled underneath your chin and still making you watch, but you can only look at how feral he is marking your neck like he’s some vampire, sucking and popping noises spreading around your body in ripples, and behind your tears, you can see the red eyes still on yours.   

“Faster,” you sob, feeling like you’re about to pass out from yet another building orgasm but know ultimately that’s not going to happen and it’s just how well he wrecks you. 

He moans obscenely into your ear, completing that with a delighted hiss as your nails mark his forearm laced with defined veins. “Gonna come for me again, huh? How many minutes has it been, and you’re gushing already? Are you just that perverted or is it me?”

“Yes, you, it’s you.” You throw your head back and rest it on his shoulder, and he lowers the fingers on your chin to hold you by the throat against him, putting slight pressure with at the two sides of your neck — not cutting your airway, but the blood flow to your brain, plunging you into cloud-soft, pleasure-fueled fuzziness.

“Inside?” he asks for permission, strained. His thrusts pick up, not shallow, but brutal all the way, and so do your whimpers. “Can I—” 

You can imagine the sensation of the warmth of him spilling into you. You’re so thankful for actively looking for hook-ups before this and getting on birth control for it. “Yeah, inside, come inside me—”

He bites down again, it has to be a new favorite thing for him, and he reaches down to circle your clit, pressing and playing, gentle and then sharp. 

You feel a familiar fullness growing, and clench yourself up, it makes Leon hiss. “Bathroom—” you choke, panicked. “We have to stop, I have to—”

He doubles the finger on your clit and you squeak, squeezing your thighs together — something’s coming and he keeps hitting that spot over and over and over again — you’re going to fucking wet yourself — “Leon, I’m serious, I’m gonna—”

“It’s not what you think it is,” he says, reassuring, caring, peppering kisses everywhere.

How is he so sure! 

“No, no, I can’t— Leon, Leon, Leon, Leon!”

Third time, third time it’s something else, you can’t, you can’t—

“You can.” He grunts, smothering your squirming by his weight. “Go ahead sweet girl, just like that. You’re doing wonderful, I got you. Let it go. Let it come.”

You hear the brief spray of something, the trickle of liquid between your thighs and the intermittent whining of his as he comes inside, but you swear you fucking pass out for a good fifteen seconds from how the coil of pleasure detonates in your core and shatters your consciousness in a foggy haze.

You fucking squirted. 

Didn’t even know you could do that. 

He made you because he was jealous.   

“Asshole,” you cry-mumble, trembling like a leaf. “My couch.”

He just laughs. His eyes are still glowing red in the window’s reflection. 

You’re too sleepy for this.

You’re dreaming that you’re Leon. 

It’s a weird nightmarish vision bleeding pulsating black at the edges probably fueled by imagining him as a mean demon ravishing you yesterday. 

One moment you’re looking down at yourself suffering in your sleep at the backseat of a car, head resting on his lap, some blond man even buffer than Leon is driving the car, you can see the outline of a scar at the side of his face and you call him Major Krauser; and the other you’re intensely gazing at yourself in the bathroom mirror, eyes are still red, but this time, there are dark veins mapping all over your body, all over your face, and they’re pulling back and moving.

You startle awake to an unfamiliar bedroom, a dull ache in your chest, weak and absolutely sick to your stomach that it feels like your guts are restlessly moving around. 

“The hell?” Just where are you right now? This isn’t your home. “Leon? Leon!”

Soft, muted hues adorn the walls, casting a serene ambiance that envelops the room, but you’re far from calm, the tight feeling in your chest pushing up into your lungs. Gentle lighting, emanating from carefully placed fixtures, are dancing upon the surfaces, creating a mockingly soothing ambiance with a faint scent of cleanliness, mingling with freshness.

You are on the plush bed, adorned with crisp linens and plump pillows, the centerpiece of the room, with bedside tables holding the essentials within arm's reach. Ahead is a cozy seating area with its comfortable armchairs and a snug loveseat and a work desk, strategically positioned near a well-lit window or a dedicated reading lamp. This awfully looks like a hotel room. 

He emerges from a door, and you see the glimpse of a bathroom behind him before he shuts it behind him. “Hey, you’re awake.”

The anxiety of the gap in your memory dissipates the moment you see him.

“And confused, where is this? Why don’t I remember getting here?” You grimace and prop your body to sit up, pressing the heel of your hand to where your heart is, his eyes flicker to the motion, eyebrows dropping down. 

He sits on the edge of the bed, faintly smiling, trying to hide his worry. “You were sleeping.”

You reach for the bottle of water sitting on the bedside table to your right. “And why did you feel the need to bring me somewhere while I was asleep?”

He eerily looks mysterious for a second. “You remember me talking about the gift I was given?”

“Yeah..?” 

“I’ve shared it with you.” 

“Oh-kay…” God, that water was heavenly. You weren’t aware that you were parched. “Is that why I feel sick? Did we go out last night and get blackout drunk or something, is that it?” 

“You feel sick?” You stop playing with the plastic bottle when his face hardens. “You shouldn’t be hurting, why…”

“Can we dial it back a little?” You raise your hands, remembering your priorities. “Leon, where are we? I can’t be here, I need to go to work, there is this article about the Spanish guest President Graham has dropped everything to meet with today and I need to get it out—”

“I’ve called in for you. You’re good.” 

Well. 

It was truly the right call to make given just how weird you’re feeling, just on the precipice of getting badly sick, you’re grateful he took the initiative for you but it wouldn’t have been bad to be told before he did this. The newspaper could have caused big trouble. “I would have appreciated it more if you asked me first.”

Leon looks genuinely bothered, you don’t know if it’s because you’re telling him off. “Sorry about that, I had no time before—”

“Time for what?” 

“Well…” He trails off, lost in thought. “How about I start from the beginning?”

“I’m more than happy to listen, but first, where are we? Spoilers are fine.”

A voice you don’t know abruptly cuts in and makes you jump. “Spain, sweetheart. You’re in Spain.”

Why the hell is there a stranger in your room?

“Who the hell are you?” You pull the covers up even though you’re not naked and dressed in a casual outfit you have no memory of throwing on. His presence in this room feels like a security breach because you’re in bed. “Why are you — Leon, why is—“ 

“Krauser.” Leon shoots up from his seat in urgency. “I told you to—”

What he said registers suddenly. “Spain?” You’re unbelievably alert. It’s the guy you saw in your dream, driving the car. Leon calls him the same name you heard in it, as well. “Leon, who is this, what is he talking about?”

His chest puffs up in concentrated dejection, misery engulfing him as he looks at you, mute. You ask him with your eyes to tell you the random guy in your room is kidding, but he doesn’t. 

You edge closer to the other side of the bed like you’re some scared animal. “What the fuck is going on?”

The glare he gives to the guy would have scared you shitless had it not been for the shock you’re going through. “Get out.”

This isn’t a prank. 

You finally explode, hands gripping the linens in a tight ball, heart beating a mile an hour. “Listen, I would like to be spoken to! Spain? Can you please explain it to me already!”

“Your boyfriend has given you the Las Plagas parasite, and you’re here to go through the initiation ceremony, so to speak. You’re to be presented to our Lord. Sorry, kid.” A pitying chuckle. “Should have had better taste in men.”

Huh.

Huh?

The very military-looking man, with the beret and the outfit and all, says it with the most fed up and serious intonation ever that a loud, ringing, involuntary laugh comes out from you and rings in the room, but something in your stomach hurts from the force of it, so you double down in pain, gasping. Something moves in you. “What… God, fuck, ow…”

You clutch your abdomen, the pain intensifying with each passing moment. It feels as though something is writhing inside you, twisting and contorting with a sickening energy. It’s foreign. Doesn’t belong in your body, you’re about to hyperventilate. 

Your mind struggles to process the gravity of the situation unfolding before you. Spain? Parasites? Initiation ceremony? It all sounds like a macabre nightmare, but the agony coursing through your body is alarmingly real.

You don’t know when Leon moved to get to you, but he is next to you all of a sudden, supporting you, eyes widening with concern, his earlier mysterious demeanor crumbling away. He moves swiftly, his hand reaching out to prop you. "Easy, take deep breaths, it’ll pass, I promise, I’ve got you," His voice drips with something icy as the person he’s addressing changes. “You told me that shit would take away her pain.”

Major Krauser watches the scene unfold with a mixture of detachment and sympathy. His presence is imposing in his stern countenance. "I told you it would make it easier," he interjects, gruff. "The worst of it is over. Superior species process differently than the regular one."

“Can’t we just—”

Fear grips you like a vice as you try to comprehend the magnitude of what is happening. "Why... What have you done to me?" you manage to make out, wavering with both pain and confusion.

His hands move gently, yet frantically to caress your arms in attempts to comfort you through the pain. “I saved you.”

“Oh, you are gone in the head, rookie.”  

Leon looks scary, a barely contained rage just under the surface, gripping you tighter. 

Your mind races, trying to make sense of the fragmented information you've been given. It all feels like a nightmarish delusion, an absurd reality you've been thrust into.

What’s going on? Just what’s happening right now?

Gasping for oxygen, you manage to choke out a question, desperation just beneath. "What kind of sick game is this?"

Krauser, stoic and unyielding, interrupts with a dispassionate tone, his eyes fixed on you with an unsettling intensity. "It's not a game. Lord Saddler seeks vessels, chosen ones who can carry the power of Las Plagas. You were chosen, through Leon."

You reel back, disbelieving. "Chosen? Lord Saddler? Leon, what in the world—"

Leon's gaze turns somber, regret across his face. "I made a choice, so we could be together. So you would be protected." He becomes pleading. “The world is about to change forever—”

Oh what the fuck.

You begin to cough uncontrollably, slapping a palm on your mouth, whole body wrecked by the velocity of the fit.

There’s blood when you remove your hand. 

“Oh, god,” you whimper, but the spillage of blood also marks the ebbing away of the pain, it’s gradually fading.  

“Make her drink it again. It should be fine, three days have passed.” 

Major Krauser, the enigmatic man who claimed you had been infected, remains stoic but watches your distress intently before leaving the room from another door. 

Three days. Three days? You slept for three days?

“I want to go home. I want to leave.”

Leon sighs, visibly sad. “I know, sweet girl, but I can’t let you go anywhere right now.” 

“Why!” You yank away from him, crawling to put some distance between him and you. You trust Leon, you see that he is loyal to you, but can’t stop freaking out. “Then explain it to me! What the hell is Las Plagas or whatever the hell it’s called! Just what did you do to me?”

“First, you have to know I’m — I was a government agent. I work to wipe out bioweapons, the kind in Terragrigia. That’s the basic gist of it, anyways. Spain was a mission. To save the President’s daughter.”

“What.”

Throughout the long and agonizing day, you continue to plead with Leon, hoping desperately that he will release you from your confining prison. Each time, he feigns sympathy and expresses apologies, but his determination remains unyielding. The realization that the man you love has become your captor sinks its fangs deeper into your psyche, a tormenting truth that threatens to shatter your sanity.

Moved to a more luxurious room, attended to by servants who treat you as though you were some revered figure, you feel the suffocating weight of your captivity. Leon, on the other hand, freely comes and goes, moving about with an air of authority and control here in this unknown location. 

The stark contrast between your roles within this twisted dynamic only further amplifies the madness of the situation. It becomes increasingly difficult to maintain your composure when everything around you appears normal, yet you are trapped, on the verge of losing your grip on reality.

Leon's attempts to justify his actions, delivered with a soft and soothing cadence, only serve to deepen the chasm between the man you once knew and this deranged version standing before you. He speaks of a global project involving the parasitic vaccination of the entire world, claiming that he only sought to protect you and longed for your reunion in this new world order. 

According to his words, everyone will be connected through what he refers to as the Holy Body, and he brought you here to shield you from the chaos that looms outside. He even speaks of defying some enigmatic figure known as "their Lord," as if he had waged a battle for your favor against him.

It’s insane. He’s insane, but looks perfectly okay saying all of this stuff. Leon wasn’t like this one month ago, it’s Spain that changed him, the dots connect themselves — the gift that he talks about wasn’t a gift at all, he was most likely infected against his will like you were, and now believes in the batshit crazy nonsense he’s talking about like it’s gossip over tea.  

You realize quite a bit late that this is a cult because of his perfectly ordinary demeanor. He’s Leon and you trust him, and it stalls your thought process. 

You have to repeat it over and over again to process it.

Leon took you against your will, to a fucking cult. 

They even have a name for god’s sake, Los Illuminados — the ‘servants’ are cultists. It’s easy to fall into the normalcy and accept it the way Leon puts it, like some fairy tale, like telling you about news from another country. 

With the new knowledge of his past, you don’t know to be in awe of him or terrified, your whole relationship unraveling in transparent context littered between the lines as you rediscover who he is as a person and why he did the things he did — but definitely lean towards the latter the more you can’t get through to him to let this stop already, it becomes more clear to you very quick there’s a certain instability to him now that wasn’t there before, something dark as if he’s balancing himself on the razor’s edge of control, it swims closer to the surface whenever you mention you want to go home. 

The Leon you remember was gloomy at times, yes, but he was also rational, calm, and grounded. He was unyielding in the face of adversity and never subscribed to such ludicrous beliefs. The dissonance between the Leon of the past and the current incarnation, who mindlessly parrots the teachings of the cult, leaves you utterly bewildered. You struggle to reconcile the two versions, grappling with the question of who he truly is and why he committed these unthinkable acts.

In these moments, when Leon reverts into the preaching mode, his gaze becomes vacant, as if he is merely regurgitating the words he has been fed. It is only when his attention turns to your well-being that glimpses of the man you love flicker to the surface. 

The conflicting emotions within you reach a boiling point, leaving you paralyzed and unsure of how to proceed.

The gaping divide between the Leon you once cherished and this altered persona rattles your very core. Fear grips your heart as questions swirl in your mind. What now? What lies in store for you? The uncertainty looms like a dark cloud, casting shadows of doubt and despair over your fragile existence.

The answer and possible salvation comes to you in the form of a man, a mysterious figure who materializes from an entry point to the room you had no idea was there. 

The dim light casts eerie shadows on his face as he greets you with a slight bow. 

“Who are you?”

“Luis Serra, Princesita. Your only chance.” He nods, lighthearted, but you see the weight of his seriousness. “We don’t have much time. If you want to get rid of the parasite, come with me, I’ll explain on the way.”

Why do you feel like all you do is being swept with whatever current washes down your way? 

It’s bizarre to be running away — from Leon, of all people. Go with this random man number two, where? To do what? What happens to Leon, then? 

Thrown off by his sudden appearance, you try to assess the situation, searching for any signs of deception or ulterior motives. 

Despite your apprehension, something about his urgent demeanor and the glimmer of hope in his eyes instill a soft landing for trust in him, you feel that he can help you somehow — but there is the obvious elephant in the room. “What about Leon?”

“I’m doing this because he asked,” Luis replies, his words carrying a sense of loyalty and commitment. They have some sort of history you don’t know. 

Without further delay, he administers a serum, providing you with a temporary respite from the torment inflicted by the parasite Leon’s infected you with. It offers relief, albeit temporary, buying you precious time before the inevitable returns in Luis’ words.

You decide to go with him and see where this path leads, you have nothing better to do, can’t see any way out of this. 

He motions for you to follow him, leading you through a concealed passage that winds its way beneath the labyrinthine corridors of the cult's stronghold — a castle, as you’re shocked to take in. The path is bleak, the air heavy with a musty scent, but you push forward, driven by pure survival instinct to get away to safety.

Luis starts explaining not too much into your journey, hushed, he has all the answers you needed in the first place, quick to the point. "Las Plagas are ancient organisms with a malevolent sentience. They infest and control their hosts, erode their will and sanity. They were made to be… weapons to be harnessed by Los Illuminados. Those who succumb to it become pawns of their leader, Saddler, carry out his agenda. Slaves to his will. They don’t have their minds intact, just flesh prisons to obey his orders."

Your first thought is of Leon, the horrible sinking feeling unspun in your stomach. 

Luis knows what you’re thinking. “Leon… and his buddy Krauser are exceptions. They possess what’s called the superior species, newly engineered.” He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head at the same time, like he’s contemplating a good business deal. “That means free will. To a degree. Their parasites are connected to Saddler, so their bodies can be controlled, but not their minds. Not entirely. They’re not like the inferior ganados. That’s why he was able to seek you out with his own volition.” 

The realization that Leon is trapped within this nightmare strikes you like a blow, your heart sinking with each passing moment. "He isn't controlled?" you inquire, hope blossoming in your chest. "Can you save him too?"

Luis's response is filled with regret, his eyes reflecting a sorrowful truth. "I'm afraid he's beyond saving," he confesses. "The procedure I have can only remove newly hatched eggs, and Leon... well, he's already been consumed by this darkness."

The words reverberate through your mind, the horror of the situation fraying your soul. "But... I can't just abandon him!" you protest, determination and anguish trying to overpower one another.

"You'll be gone forever too if you don't," Luis warns. "It's now or never. If you hesitate, if he catches even a hint of your trail, it will be over."

“You said you were helping me because he told you to.”

“Before he was lost, yes, he made a final wish.” Luis softens, and you realize he’s grieving, too. “He told me to take you as far away as possible from him if he ever were to try and get you involved in this mess. Because he would never do that to you in his right mind, so he said. A total romantic underneath all that ice, eh?”

He would never do that to you in his right mind… 

You flash back to three days ago, to his words, to how he said he loved you, all his adoring, the broken dam of affection and how he didn’t hold back anymore. 

He wouldn’t have decided to go through with opening up to you like that had it not been for the parasite’s influence? 

Uncertainty dangles heavy as you fight with the bitter reality you thought was a dream come true, the heart-wrenching realization that the man you love has been ensnared by the very darkness he sought to protect you from — that only giving into it broke his control of keeping away from you emotionally.

Regret etches itself onto Luis's face as he observes your inner turmoil. "I'm truly sorry, Princesita," he offers with empathy. 

The moment hangs suspended, an agonizing choice looming before you, as you weigh the love you hold for Leon against the desperate need to escape the clutches of this cult. 

You don’t want to leave Leon, even when there’s something clearly wrong with him that can’t be fixed, but on the other hand… 

“Can you honestly tell me he isn’t the man I know?”

“He is less and more.” His tentativeness bleeds into the clearest possible simplification he’s able to give you.. “But isn’t the same.” 

“So what do we do? What should I do?”

You still cannot wrap your head around your whole world flipping upside down, can’t comprehend you have to leave Leon behind, you barely processed him being an agent. You’re stalling. Hesitating. And deep down in your heart, you know why. It’s because you don’t want to go. 

Leon is still Leon. 

But you’re terrified. 

 "The choice is ultimately yours to make. But I implore you to consider your own well-being and the chance to break free. I know that’s what he truly wanted."

“I—”

But as you open your mouth to respond, a sudden, excruciating pain shoots through your head, causing you to cry out in agony. It feels as if someone has driven a searing spike into your skull, rendering you momentarily incapacitated. Your body crumples, and you find yourself on your knees, clutching your head, desperately trying to block out the piercing ringing in your ears.

Amidst the torment, your consciousness is abruptly whisked away, transported to an ethereal realm. It is a dream-like state, observing the world through the lens of another's mind. The golden chandeliers cast a cascade of shimmering light upon turning corners and ornate doors, as the person you are connected to races frantically through the maze-like passages.

The frenzied movement abruptly halts, and your vision pulsates in tandem with the rapid beat of a heart. It’s Leon’s voice echoing through the recesses of your mind, a hidden depth of anger and desperation at the heart of his control. "I feel you," he utters, a slight tremble of heartbreak. "You're in here. I know you're listening. Where are you? Why did you leave?"

Realization dawns upon you, a profound understanding that you are inhabiting Leon's thoughts, sharing his fears and confusion. The sheer intensity of the experience overwhelms you, and you cry out, "No, make it stop!" Your consciousness briefly returns to the physical realm, tears streaming down your face, the pain of the connection too much to bear. "It hurts!"

The ethereal realm engulfs you once more, Leon's emotional turmoil swirling around you. His voice billows with remorse and longing. "It might... Things might have escalated a bit too quickly," he confesses, his tone laden with regret. "It's my fault, I got too cocky, too impatient. But I never wanted to scare you off. I only ever wanted to keep you safe. You have to trust me and open your eyes so I can do that, sweet girl, okay? I'll come get you. We’ll talk it out. You can’t run."

Confusion intertwines with the pain coursing through your being. Leon's words perplex you, as if there is a hidden meaning beneath his pleas. "My eyes?" you utter, the question hanging, unanswered.

Luis gets so loud that you’re brought back to your location for a split second. “Shit. Do not open your eyes!”

Leon hears what he says somehow — and it suddenly comes to you that if you’re in his head, he is also in your head. “Luis. I should have known.”

You feel a sharp pinch at the side of your neck that cannot even compete with the tremendous headache, and the vision begins to crumble, Leon getting fainter — his presence fading away, the last you hear of him is a furious and equally anguished, “Goddamnit, no!” before everything goes black.  

Luis detects the stirring of your consciousness before you do, and as your awareness is brought back from the dormant state you were in, he calls to you in the darkness surrounding everything. “Don’t open your eyes yet.”

You shift around, feeling the coolness of a rough surface against your back and the firmness of the stone floor beneath you. The silence is broken by a peculiar sound—an unsettling symphony of metallic echoes. Chains. Accompanied by Luis’ feet shuffling around, they slither across the ground, you can almost envision their length, extending and coiling, like serpents of iron, their echoes intertwine, creating an eerie melody because you can’t see them. 

“What are you doing?”

Luis's response is calm and purposeful. "Setting the scene," he explains. The sound of nails being hammered into stone with an underlying jingle punctuates his words, causing you to jump in surprise. "For Lancelot seeking his Guinevere."

The pieces start to come together, albeit slowly. "You want to trap him," you realize.

Luis acknowledges your understanding. "Wonderful, Princesita," he praises. "You catch on fast. Leon is connected to you somehow, and we can't progress if he sees through your eyes. So, we need to create an illusion."

Confusion and concern overflow as you question the feasibility of their plan. "But Leon is... He could be listening right now."

Luis dismisses your worries. "Do you feel that he is sharing your head at the moment?" he asks. The uncertainty in your response betrays your lack of knowledge. "Ey, you'd know," he asserts. "That means he isn't present. Perfect."

Doubts linger in your mind as you consider the risks. "Will it work? He's... well, I recently learned he's an agent. I don't think it'll be easy."

"Whose side are you on?" he teases, playful. But when he senses your unease, he quickly reassures you. "No worries, I get it. He's better with the ladies, I've learned."

You can't help but feel a pang of guilt. "Luis..."

He brushes off your concerns with understanding. "I'm almost done here. He's supposed to think you're alone, so you can't look at me when I tell you to open your eyes. I'll be hiding. Don't talk to me, don't acknowledge me, just wait."

Curiosity gets the better of you as you ask, "How are you going to..."

Luis's response is concise and determined. "It won’t be me who’s doing it. It will be you. I will be your distraction.” You hear his footsteps approaching, and something small but heavy being placed on the floor just beside you, hidden from your line of sight. “You’ll hide when he arrives, and when the time comes, I want you to shoot. Don’t worry, it’s a tranquilizer gun. Wish me luck so he won’t kill me on sight, eh?”

It doesn’t take long for him to signal you. 

You open your eyes, the darkness giving way to dimly lit surroundings. The scene before you is carefully arranged, meticulously designed to deceive. The chains that previously echoed through the room now come into view, hanging ominously from the winch on the ceiling, you follow the line with your eyes to see the other end is secured to the stone wall by a circle of nails. The clinks and clanks reverberate, amplifying the tension.

Luis is nowhere to be seen, but his presence lingers, a silent reassurance that you're not alone.

In the deafening silence, doubt gnaws at you, and you question the madness of your current circumstances. 

You’re unsure of what you truly desire, unable to look over how you really just found yourself going along with Luis's plan, not because it feels right, but because your mind is clouded, unable to think clearly. You feel like a reluctant child, accepting the path laid before you simply because it seems to be the only option available.

Uncertainty presses heavily upon you as you contemplate the impending encounter with Leon. Fear grips your thoughts, entwining with the deep-rooted emotions you still harbor for him. Despite the revelations and warnings about his true nature, your heart remains entangled in a web of love and trust, the idea of seeing him again evokes a conflicting mishmash of longing and apprehension. 

You find yourself yearning for his presence, against the knowledge that he is not the same person you once knew when the mere thought of his return conjures a happy expectation of hope within you, a desperate desire to be whisked away from the nightmarish reality that has unfolded — deep, deep down, you pine for him to be the savior, the one who can shield you from the horrors of this supernatural ordeal he inflicted upon you himself.

Yet, simultaneous fear engulfs your soul, you question your own liability, knowing that you still trust him, still harbor the potential to be swayed by his words and actions. The thought terrifies you, the notion that you might have readily agreed to his plans had he presented them differently, had he explained the sinister truth of the parasite in a more inviting manner. It's a terrifying realization, the awareness of your own susceptibility to his influence, and despite everything, he’s the only anchor you can hold on to not be swept away into that chaos. 

You want him to enter the room, to make everything right again, tell you all of this is a nightmare you made up in your head because in the real world you still miss him, and at the same time you also fear what his arrival may entail.

As if attuned to your thoughts, a prickle in your mind disrupts your musings—a subtle trickle of awareness, the sensation of being watched by an invisible presence sharing the same space as you.

So you wait, your heart pounding in your chest, the weight of the impending confrontation with Leon bearing down on you. Every second feels like an eternity as you strain to listen for any sign of his approach. The air grows heavy with anticipation, and your senses are on high alert.

Suddenly, a noise echoes through the chamber, a faint, careful creak of a door opening. Your breath catches in your throat, he was so deadly silent infiltrating the building this basement is in, and you scramble to crouch and hide behind stacked boxes facing his direction, praying to god he hasn’t heard you. 

His eyes search the room in  a hardened gaze, a mask of determination, scanning every corner, every shadow with professional coldness. 

Leon cuts through the silence, as if he’s been hurt by you somehow. "Come on, I know you’re here, you don’t need to hide from me, I’m just here to talk.. Don’t be afraid of me.”

Your heart aches at the sound of his voice, you fight back tears, reminding yourself that this is necessary, for both his sake and your own — you can’t crumble right now, absolutely dreading what actually hearing him out would do to you. 

Luis emerges from where he’s hiding, unknowingly coming to your rescue, stepping forward with calculated confidence. "Looking for someone, Leon?" he asks, dripping amused intrigue.

"Where is she?" Leon demands, and you’ve never heard him like that before — that bone-chillingly cold and intimidating, menacing, low tone is downright terrifying. 

“Not even a hola for your old friend?” 

Leon fucking pulls a gun on him and your heart jumps to your throat. “Where. is. she?”

Luis raises his hands in a placating gesture, a sly smile playing on his lips. "No need for violence, my friend. I'm here to help."

Leon's grip on his weapon tightens, his suspicion evident. "I don’t need your help anymore. Tell me where she is."

Luis chuckles softly with a trace of mischief. "Ah, the stubbornness of a man in love. But I'm afraid your Princesita is in another castle."

Anger flashes in Leon's eyes, his frustration mounting. "Don’t bullshit me Luis, I know she’s here. What are you up to?"

Luis takes a step closer, sympathetic as much as he’s purposeful. "I've done what you asked of me. She's safer without you." 

Leon's face contorts with disbelief and fury, threatening to consume him. "Safer? You have no idea what you’re talking about. There is no safer place on earth right now than by my side. The world's about to go shit. The President is down, and the impending mass vaccination is nothing but a precursor to chaos. Do you think this is some deranged lover’s obsession? No."

With hopeless resoluteness, Leon continues to pour out his frustrations and fears. "Someone, be it the WHO, Terrasave, or the BSAA, someone will eventually expose the truth about the parasite spreading through medicines. And when that happens, all hell will break loose — do you understand the scale of what I’m talking about? The illusion of a smooth and controlled resolution is nothing more than a lie, and we both damn well know it."

Emotions wash over Leon, leaving him vehement and exposed, self-deprecating, raw. "I may have failed in my mission, and I may have failed everyone, but I refuse to let her become a mindless puppet like those villagers and cultists. I won't let her perish chasing scope after scope for news articles that’ll get her killed. She's all I have left." His voice quivers with a defeated tenacity and desperation, he shakes his gun at Luis. "So yes, I made a choice. It's the right one. It's the only one. A choice where I can be with her, where she can stay safe. A choice where I become the monster, but I can’t care less about the consequences anymore. So, get out of my way, Luis, and take that getaway chopper of Ada's while I'm still giving you the chance. That a good deal?"

“What happens when Saddler loses?” Luis sighs through his nose, totally unaffected by all that talk. “What happens if you die on that hill?”

His question lingers for a moment before Leon responds, less baleful and more mournful, even accompanied with a strange sense of happiness. "I know the end. As long as I get to die in her arms, it doesn't matter."

In that instant, something within you snaps. The anguished anger and the raw empathy you feel for Leon flow through your veins, overpowering any rational thought. Without hesitation, you make a decision that feels both natural and inevitable — to shoot the tranquilizer. 

You pull the trigger, the dart finding its mark with an unsettling precision, and time slows as you watch it puncture his skin, him flinching with a hand clamping around the dart and yanking it out, his wide, red eyes finding yours as you stand up, the realization dawning in his eyes. 

You want to cry when it’s relief and happiness that comes first to him upon seeing you as if on instinct, and confusion and hurt wash over his features next as he sees what’s in your hands. It's a sight that cuts through your heart. He staggers, toward you, his body fighting against the encroaching numbness, as if defying the very fate that befalls him. With outstretched arms, he reaches for you, fingers trembling, yearning for connection amidst the sense of betrayal. 

Yet, despite his desperate efforts, his strength fails him. His legs give way beneath him, and he tumbles to the ground, his reach falling short. You watch, your heart splitting in two, as he crumples in a heap of confusion. His fingers graze at where your presence is, a touch that never finds its mark.

In the waning moments before unconsciousness claims him, his eyes search yours, pleading for answers that you struggle to provide. You stand rooted to the spot, grappling with guilt and anguish, questioning the validity of your actions, second-guessing the choices that have led to this heartbreaking scene.

As Leon finally succumbs to the claim of the tranquilizer, his body surrendering to the oblivion of unconsciousness, you're left with your final commitment, crystal clear. 

Your heart was set on this from the start. You were just too scared to admit it. 

You’ll stay with him in this darkness.

Leon’s all alone here, knows he’s doomed by the narrative, can’t leave — and all he thought throughout that was you and what would happen to you. 

You can’t leave this man in the solitude of tragedy, with the first ever selfishness of his was seeking you out despite himself to protect you. No moment has solidified his love for you more than this. How he thinks of you tremendously. 

You can’t not love this man. You can’t bring yourself to obey his wishes and abandon him.

The lamb doesn’t want to leave the slaughterhouse. 

With a heavy yet determined tone, you utter the words that seal your fate. "Go, Luis."

Luis protests, filled with concern and a touch of reluctance. "You can’t—"

Tears well up in your eyes as you gaze at Leon's unconscious form, lying helpless on the cold ground. The depth of your emotions overwhelms you, but you gather your resolve. "I can't abandon him now. Not after everything he's been through. He needs someone by his side."

Luis hesitates, torn between honoring your wishes and his genuine concern for your well-being, making a final attempt to persuade you. "I understand your heartache, but you're risking everything for him. Are you sure about this? There's so much at stake — you’ll become just like him, you know? You’ll never be able to leave Los Illuminados and go back to your old life."

“You don’t get it do you? It’s true that I'm scared, Luis. Scared of what lies ahead, the stuff you’ve talked about is straight out of a dystopian novel. But I'm more scared of losing him in all of this.” It haunts you how he said it doesn’t matter if he gets to die in your arms, no regard for his own well-being and health. Leon has never cared for himself enough, that much you know, but to think his entire system has collapsed like this, to the point where he’s let himself go entirely and came to you while wounded… It’s something you can’t turn a blind eye to. A cry for help you can’t ignore. “He looked for me in this chaos. Underneath all of the excuses of protection, Leon’s just scared. He doesn’t want to be alone.” You can’t look away now that you’ve seen everything. “I can’t go back anyway after knowing this. I’d never forgive myself. It's better to face whatever’s coming with him, no matter what horrors it holds.”

“There’s absolutely nothing I can do to change your mind?”

The fact that he’s set on doing this and looking out for you until the last second because he has promised Leon and is truly concerned warms your heart up. “You really should catch that ride before it’s too late.” 

“You’re making a mistake.” His concern mingles with a touch of admiration for your unwavering will. “But he’s hell of a lucky bastard to have you by his side throughout it all. This is the sacrifice of your life, I’m not joking. And I hope it’ll be worth it.”

He’s not like you, and that’s okay. You actually admire and envy his sense of self-preservation overweighs his loyalty and promise to Leon, that’s how a normal person should be. But the situation is far from normal, and you’re infected by a mind-altering parasite for fuck’s sake, and you’re not even sure you’re going through the quarter of what Leon has. 

“Thank you Luis.” Touched by his understanding, you reach out and take Luis's hand, gratitude shining through. “For everything.”

A somber atmosphere settles in the room as Luis grows more melancholic. He takes a deep breath before making his final request. "Before I go, there's one last thing I want to ask. Considering we don't know how he’ll react when he wakes up, I think it's best to be cautious. We should chain him up, just to be safe. I don't want him accidentally hurting you in his confused state."

You hesitate, unsure about the idea of restraining Leon, but Luis's earnestness compels you to consider it. "I don't think he would ever harm me..."

Luis interrupts gently. "Oye, let me worry about that, Las Plagas is unpredictable and dangerous. Do me this favor, it’s the least you can do to pay me back, yeah? A little caution won't hurt. And if Leon questions it, you can blame me. I can handle it from a safe distance out of his reach in the comfort of my luxury ride."

With Luis's words echoing in your mind, both of you set to work, struggling like you’re trying to roll a boulder up a hill with the weight of Leon's unconscious body. The effort is tremendous, sweat pouring down your faces as you maneuver his unexpectedly heavy frame. 

Exhausted from the strenuous task, Luis hands you the key, his face flushed with exertion as you finally finish securing Leon in chains. The room is filled with a heavy silence, punctuated only by the sound of your own labored breaths.

As the unvoiced question of what happens now makes itself known between you two, caught in the tension between Luis’ desire to stay and the necessity of his departure. His words come out disconnected, hesitant, obviously having an awkwardness that comes from bidding farewell under such circumstances. "Well..." he begins, trailing off as he struggles to find the right words. "It was a pleasure to know you, Princesita." His smile is half-hearted, betraying the mixed emotions within him. "I hope we never have to meet again."

The unexpected humor in his remark catches you off guard, and a genuine laugh escapes your lips, the sound reverberating through the room, mingling with the faint clinking of the chains as Leon stirs behind you, his presence a constant reminder of what you’ve decided to get yourself into.

Luis's insistence breaks through the brief moment of levity as he implores you, his eyes flicking between you and Leon's kneeling form. "Take care of him," he urges, a sense of responsibility coloring his words. "And yourself."

You offer him a reassuring smile, endlessly thankful for his guidance in getting you to realize Leon’s perspective. "Will do. You too, Luis," you respond, nothing but warmth in your heart for him as you acknowledge his efforts. "Don't feel bad about not being able to help us, please? You've done all you can."

He nods once, his features a blend of bittersweet defeat and acceptance. With a final glance, he retreats into the shadows, his presence fading away. The room feels emptier without him, and sadness washes over you, a stab of guilt for potentially failing him now that you are left alone with your thoughts and the finality of the decision you have made.

The room remains shrouded in an eerie silence, broken only by the faint sound of Leon's steady breaths and the gentle rattling of the chains that bind him. 

Your gaze inevitably falls upon him, bound and unconscious before you. 

The sight of him, held captive by the chains, elicits strange emotions that defy explanation. There is an undeniable allure that emanates from his restrained form, drawing you in despite the chaos that surrounds you. It is a conflicting blend of fascination and revulsion, a cocktail of sensations that confound your senses. You should be consumed by panic, overwhelmed by the dire circumstances and the looming threat of the parasite within you. Yet, in this moment, a strange calm settles within your being. Is it the influence of the parasite that dulls your anxieties, or is it a resolute acceptance of the path you have chosen?

Despite the restraints that hold him captive, there is an undeniable attractiveness that surrounds him, gluing your eyes to the sight before you.

Kneeling on the floor, Leon’s muscular physique is accentuated by the susceptible position he finds himself in, the chains tightly holding his wrists above his head, rendering him defenseless and at your mercy. His sculpted arms, stretched taut and slightly strained, display the evidence of his strength even in his helpless state, veins beneath his skin appear more pronounced, as if awakened by the touch of captivity and the strain of gravity. His tousled locks of blond hair cling to his forehead and darken in shade where they meet with sweat, adding to his prettiness. Even in his unconsciousness, there is a magnetism that emanates from his chiseled features — strong jawline, cheekbones, and glistening lips that have known both determination and tenderness. The pinch of his eyebrows low over his eyes adds a touch of rugged toughness, contrasting with the vulnerability imposed upon him by the chains. His chest rises and falls rhythmically, betraying the calmness of his unconscious state. Light and shadow dance across his defined torso, revealing the slopes and curves that bear witness to his physical prowess. 

It is an unintended pull that arises from the juxtaposition of strength and exposure, dominance and surrender. The image of Leon bound and kneeling, his arms raised and secured by the unyielding chains, creates a powerful visual dichotomy — a captivating blend of control and submitting, strength and fragility.

You didn’t know you were into BDSM. Is this what it is? Why the hell does he look so mouth watering in chains to you when there are more dire matters to feel about — you are being a giant pervert about an unconscious man. Sympathy, desire, and protectiveness intertwine, blurring the lines between what is right and what is alluring. In this moment, you are both drawn to his physical presence and compelled to ensure his well-being, torn between the magic of his bound form and the urge to set him free to not let your thoughts run further.

You have no idea how much time passes before Leon's eyes flutter open, blinking away the haze of unconsciousness, and you stand up from where you were sitting, hands clasped before you in an anxious gesture, fearing his reaction. Panic briefly flashes across his face when the drowsiness clears enough for him to notice he’s bound by heavy chains, his arms held aloft and his movements restricted — the harsh tug on the chains makes you jump and that’s how he spots you standing nearby, concern etched on your features.

"You’re okay," Leon breaks the silence, his words a murmured astonishment. It's not a question, nor is it a statement of certainty. It's an observation imbued with gratitude. He's taken aback, as if his mind is struggling to comprehend that you are here with him at all. That’s the first thing he worries about? That’s what he cares about? “You stayed.”

The corner of your lips tugs upward in a soft, bittersweet smile. "Yeah, I did," you reply. The way he looks at you, as if you hold a small piece of his shattered world together, tugs at your heartstrings.

Leon’s more wary and threat-seeking when he brings up the stranger. “Luis?”  

You start playing with your fingers. "He left.” A pause. “It was my decision.” 

He sits up straighter, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Is… that so?”

It’s so bizarre having a serious conversation with him in chains now that you’re living it. “I’m… I’m sorry for the chains, I, Luis, uh—”

“No, I get it.” He says it like it’s a given and he doesn’t mind it — and that’s when you’re reminded again that he’s a specially trained agent, that’s where the attitude weirdly used to these kinds of things has to come from. “I haven’t given you a reason to trust me.” He gazes at you, his eyes betraying remorsefully hidden emotions, voice dropping down to a low whisper. “Yet you stayed anyway even when I’m like this. I never thought... I never expected anyone would ever, for me… You know.”

Your heart is a soaked towel and he has just wrenched it dry. The way he sees himself physically hurts. "I couldn't leave you, Leon.” You sniffle, head shaking as you confess, revealing your devotion. “I could never leave you."

He reaches out, his restrained hands straining against the chains, as if longing to touch you, to reassure you of his own unwavering devotion. But all he can offer is his words. "That’s all I’ve been terrified of," he admits. It stays unknown to you if the subject of the sentence is you leaving him or you not leaving him. "Ever since I caught myself falling for you, that’s what all this has been about and — this shit inside me amplifies the worst in me, and you’re still here. Damnit.” 

Tears well up in your eyes, blurring your vision, but you refuse to let them fall. "Leon, you are not alone in this." You want to kiss away all worries and fears he keeps to himself, now in front of you in all of their intricate, overthought glory. "I made this choice because I believe in you. I believe in us."

His gaze intensifies, searching you for any trace of doubt or unease. But all he finds is unwavering faith, and a love that refuses to be shaken. "I don't deserve you," he murmurs,  barely above a whisper. All of a sudden, the tiredness you know all so well pushes down on him. "Not after everything."

A soft smile graces your lips, a gentle warmth spreading through your entire being. Luis is wrong. He is definitely wrong — this is Leon, and he’ll always be Leon. "And I don’t deserve your love." He immediately looks like he’s going to disagree on the spot, but you don’t give him the chance. "But here we are anyway. I'm here, no matter what. I’ve made my choice. If you’ll have me too—"

The tension in his shoulders eases slightly. "I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe," he vows, engraved with purpose. Just the way he says it could be added to a resume, the self-confidence and intentness of a professional in his field behind the power. "I'll prove to you that I can be the person you deserve."

"Leon, I already know the person you are. And I'm not going anywhere."

Leon's widened gaze inflames, breathing becoming more labored as he hangs his head down and nods a couple times while hiding his face from you. “Okay.”

You didn’t expect that to make you burst out laughing, and his head shoots up when he hears your laughter echoing in the chamber. “Sorry,” you cover your mouth, turning around to not let him see and think you’re mocking him. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you.” You manage to turn it down to snickering, screaming at yourself to stop already. “It’s just… that was so unironically you and… God, help. I don’t know why this is so funny to me—”

“Okay...”

“Stop! Stop saying okay.” You laugh again at his intonation, pushing the back of your hand against your nose. “That’s all you can say?”

Some sort of fascination surfaces beneath his stoic mask, like he’s someone who’s hearing the birds chirp for the first time. “Actually, I have a lot to say, but…” You watch him rise, his height allowing him to hold his chained wrists on his waist level. He reaches out with his shackled hands, beckoning you to come to his side, yearning for a connection, “You’re too far away for it.”

You jokingly tease. “Will you be a good boy?”

It has an immediate effect on him, sweet adoration stains into something suggestive, lingering between you like a charged current, and you can feel the shift in his demeanor, the warning tilt of his head, the faint red shine swallowing the blue of his eyes, the chains rattling as he grabs onto them in a tight, restrained grip, body tensing, a coiled energy barely contained. 

As his voice emerges in a single, sharp syllable, a low and husky whisper, “Don’t,” it sends a shiver all over your body. The words are measured, deliberate, and carry an undertow of caution that both entices and warns. It's a dark invitation. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

It’s not just you. 

You’re both fucked up. 

And you take a step closer, closing the distance between you, your heart pounding in your chest, and he watches you like a hawk. “I’m just asking a question.”

His eyes glow with an intense crimson hue in response, piercing through the dim light, making you halt when there’s only about five feet left between you and him. Black veins spread across his skin like intricate patterns of ancient curses, marking him up. And extending from his lower back, a large scorpion-like tail emerges, its barbed stinger poised in the air, and just as how the spine is a series of individual vertebrae, small bones stacked one upon the other, his tail too is articulated, allowing it to curl like a snake, curving and undulating with an eerie grace, almost as if it has a life of its own.

It dances through the air, floating towards you, its presence both beguiling and unsettling. You watch, apprehensive and curious, as Leon manipulates his tail, rotating it to show you every angle. As he nudges you gently with it, an unexpected tenderness shines through his alien appearance. "It won't hurt you," he emphasizes, a soothing reassurance. He looks like a creature plucked from the pages of a fantastical novel, but his care for you remains undeniable. "Try touching it."

You observe the chitinous exoskeleton, marveling at its texture and the otherworldly allure it possesses. "Will you feel it?" you ask, a snap of fidget in your curiosity.

Leon's eyes meet yours, a flicker of a mischievous smile playing at the corner of his lips. "That's a dangerous thing to want, don't you think?" His words carry a double meaning, an underlying invitation to explore the depths of desire that lies beneath the surface. In that moment, you realize you've unknowingly become a participant in his intricate game, a delicate dance of discovering boundaries.

"Leon, half-insect or not, I would want every part of you," you confess, unapologetically honest and smoking with desire. A swelling of boldness overtakes you, fueled by a mix of desire and affection. You take a step closer, your hand reaching out to grasp his tail. The texture surprises you—smooth and warm, defying the expectations of a creature born from nightmares. Leon's tail jerks slightly in response to your touch, the connection between you both sending a jolt of static through where you’re touching, and he is momentarily stunned, his ardor momentarily subdued by your unabashed declaration. “I want you, always.”

"Alright, alright. You made your point," he interrupts, a flicker of bashfulness visible beneath his attempt to maintain a composed facade. The teasing spark in his eyes is replaced by a rare sentiment, his emotions laid bare before you. "Well. " Some sort of self-consciousness fogs his expression as he looks down. "Though I do feel the same,"  he concedes, pink creeping across his cheeks.

But you're not finished. You close the remaining distance between you, your eyes locked with his. "Leon, I love you." You pour your heart into those three words, stronger, unmoving, louder, hoping he understands the depth of your affection if he hasn’t gotten it yet.

He looks away for a brief moment, his gaze fixated on something indiscernible, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. "Yeah," he mumbles softly, almost lost in the space between you.

Undeterred, you reach out to gently grasp his face, turning his gaze back to meet yours. "I love you," you repeat, scolding him that he’s not taking you seriously. You want him to hear it, to understand the magnitude of your feelings.

A flicker of surprise crosses his features, quickly replaced by something akin to relief, leaning into your touch as if you’re the coolness he needs on a hot summer day. He likes hearing it from you, that much is clear, but the unfamiliarity of the sentiment leaves him momentarily at a loss for words. "Okay," he finally responds, his voice a soft affirmation.

You're about to reprimand him, demanding that he say the words you long to hear in return before you unchain him. But before you can voice your frustration, a sudden wave of dizziness crashes over you, throwing your world into disarray. Your vision blurs, the room spinning and tilting on its axis. You desperately blink, hoping to clear your sight, but the disorientation only worsens. The force of gravity seems to intensify, tugging at your stomach and weakening your legs, causing you to stumble forward. The pain strikes you with a merciless blow, knocking you off balance and into Leon's waiting arms. Your hands, once cradling his face, now find purchase on his shoulders for support.

"Hey!" The weight of your limp body causes Leon to follow you down, sinking to his knees just as you do. However, the chains that bind his arms above his head prevent him from fully supporting your torso. In a swift motion, he maneuvers his tail to secure your body against his, stopping you from falling backward. Your head lolls on his shoulder, basically shaking against him.

"Hang in there, come on," he pleads, trying to reach you. "Talk to me, what's happening?"

Struggling to keep the pain under a manageable level, you reply briefly, not wanting to talk. "I don't know... Felt… dizzy..."

"Shit, okay," he curses softly, his concern deepening. "Does it hurt?"

You just make a curt sound, wanting him to let it go and keep yourself from flopping like a fish out of water on the ground from how it’s ripping you apart. 

“I gotta know if it does. Can you tell me?”

You’re suffering, how does he not see? Does he need verbal affirmation that badly?

“Yeah,” you say behind gritted teeth. “Sure does.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to sting you, alright? Only a drop of venom into your bloodstream,” he explains as merciful and comforting as he’s able in your state.  “You’ll feel a pinch but it’ll relax you. It might put you in an… aroused state because of your parasite, but you’ll no longer feel pain — it’ll feel good. I’ll take care of you.”

The mention of the potential side effects of whatever he wants to do to you makes your brow furrow in confusion, but there's no time to dwell on it. The pain has become unbearable, hacking at your every thought. "I'll feel good?" you question, dying for any kind of escape from the burning.

"Yeah," Leon affirms, a tenderness that reaches deep into your soul. "You'll feel good."

A stream of questions floods your mind, but Leon interrupts before you can voice them. "Not now," he interjects, pressing the syllables with more stress and emphasis. "Will you let me take care of you?"

His distress resonates with your own need for relief. "Yes," you respond without hesitation. "Yes, okay. This pain is killing me, just do it."

With a swift movement, his scorpion-like tail hovers near your exposed nape, its barbed stinger poised and ready.

"I promise, it'll be over soon," Leon whispers, dead set on his goal. "Just hold on."

The venomous tip of his tail makes contact with your skin and a sharp pinch sends a jolt of sensation through your body, but the initial pain subsides almost instantly, replaced by a soothing coolness that spreads from the injection site. It's an odd sensation, the venom working its way through your bloodstream, numbing the pain and replacing it with a peculiar mix of relaxation and heightened sensitivity.

A soft exhale is pulled from your lips as the effects continue taking hold, the relief washing over you like a gentle wave, and you melt against Leon, wrapping yourself around him, having automatically sought him out on pure instinct. He carefully adjusts his sitting and goes down on the balls of his feet to allow you to crawl on him, ensuring you're comfortable, his tail retracting to support your back for a more comfortable embrace.

"You're doing great," he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody amidst the chaos. "Just let it take effect, I’m here."

The heaviness in your limbs dissipates, replaced by a newfound lightness, as if a mass has been lifted from your body. The world around you becomes hazy, the edges blurred as the arousal Leon had warned about intertwines with the relief spreading through your veins, 

It begins with a tingling warmth that spreads across your limbs, akin to tiny sparks dancing on your flesh, and then, the heat gradually intensifies, caressing your senses with a gentle yet invigorating burn that awakens every nerve ending. But amidst the rising warmth, the usual wave of the venom’s coolness follows, like a frosty breath gently kissing your skin. The burn and the coolness entwine, creating an annoying race of who gets to be on top. The heat stimulates your awareness, drawing attention to how good it feels to have Leon’s strong body against you, how you would like more, how you want to explore this new form of his as he’s ribboned up like a present before you; but simultaneously, the coolness acts as a tranquil connection to reality, tempering the fiery sensations with its gentle touch.

Leon’s unique smell underneath your nose pours into your circulation from your heaving lungs, you snuggle in to get more of his scent, in the crook of his neck, right behind his ear… You can’t help but rub your head against it like it could somehow pass to your own body — it’s all instinct, the space of your head pleasantly misty, the feeling of only wanting to get closer wiggling enthusiastically inside. You notice your hands are on the move later, running up his sides and his back, only when you feel the ripple of bumps on his spine following your fingers gliding up and down as if responding to your touch. 

“Leon…” He sucks in a sibilant sound when your nails run down his back, momentarily shivering against you. “Leon…”

“Yes, I’m here.” It’s his tail that cuddles you against him because his hands are unavailable. “What do you need, sweet girl, hm?”

How do you say you want to fuck his brains out and do as you wish with him as he’s chained when he can’t retaliate, and how turned on you’re getting by the minute? “I need you.”

You hear the chains rattle and glance up briefly to see his hands balled up in the restraints. “How do you need me?”

His tendency to take things slow and enjoy the augmentation of need as it builds up is a formidable adversary to the you of the present, the frustration is testing the limits of your endurance. There’s something carnal in the way you want him right now, eating away at your patience for playing games with him. 

You rise on your knees still framing the outside of his thighs, and taking advantage of the small difference of height it gives you, yank his hair back to make Leon look up at you, his eyebrows arch upward in an arc, the ascent giving away the shock, and his mouth falls agape, lips parting to release a whispered exclamation “I don’t need this dirty talk, I want your dick in my throat.” You stare him down, catching your reflection in his red eyes and see that the same blight webbing him up is also infesting you, shining in your eyes in the same shade of crimson as his. You simply don’t care. “Is that a satisfying answer?”  

His chin lowers, leering lascivious, and you swear the veins on his face become a more prominent shade of black. “Jesus Christ.” He yanks on the chains, the harsh sound higher in pitch with the power behind it. “Gimme the key.”

“Nooooot gonna.” He leans towards you when you scooch away from his lap, but is unable to chase you fully. You fixate on his crotch, mouth watering, throat anticipating taking in his shape, phantom soreness reminding you what’s coming. You reach out to his thighs and place your palms on his knees, running them up awfully slow, feeling the rigidifying limbs under your touch. 

“Huh? Hey, what do you mean—” He’s stuck between trying to get up and staying that way for you. “What, you’re not untying me?”

“Shut up, I’m in heat right now.” You pop the button of his jeans and bring down the zipper, palming his half-hard bulge above his underwear. “Stop complaining.”

His hips jolt up into your hand, eyes fleetingly rolling behind his head from the satisfying contact, and his cock continues to swell up in your hand, straining against the confines of his briefs. “I’m not complaining — ”

You yank his underwear down, his head popping free and dangling, you bring the underwear underneath his hips along with his jeans with a little help from him rising up and allowing them to slide down better. “You brought this on me, so I’ll feel good the way I want to. Stop. Talking.” 

Chuckling in an underestimating mirth, he’s in the middle of saying, “Yes, ma’am—” mockingly when you lift the edge of his top up to shove the crumpled fabric into his mouth, exposing the carved dips and curves of his chest and stomach. He’s rendered shellshocked for only a second before he lukewarmly glares at you, that’s how you know he doesn’t hate it and only acts like he does. That interested swishing of his tail would be enough to break the chains, but he doesn’t attempt it at all. A silent communication passes between you two, that this is an extension of the role-reversal sex you had the day he left for Spain, and he makes it clear he’s down for whatever you want to do with him. 

Without breaking eye contact, you kiss down his chest and the pads of your fingertips glide along his heated, soft and firm skin, and slow down when you reach the plane of his pronounced abs that tense with each lick and open-mouthed nibble from you, the tautness increasing when the way down from his navel and the path you follow along the veins end up becoming torturously unhurried. 

He has to breathe from his nose, and you pick up where he is on the scale of impatience from his control breaking for it to seep into how sharp or deep they become 

You decide to go on your stomach for now,  letting him remain perched, the coldness filtering into your clothes from the ground not really all that important compared to drinking in all of Leon’s crumpled microexpressions. 

A satisfied noise rises from him as you take him into your hand and give a couple pumps and purposefully stick your tongue out to let your spit dribble considerably on it for better slip and slide, he’s starting to get red in the face. 

And when he thinks it’s about to start with the usual opening of getting him in the mood by the standard jerk-off and the buildup from there, you catch him off-guard by taking him all the way into your throat in one go, concentrating to keep your gagging and choking at a manageable bodily response that won’t make you recoil and start coughing — and surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt, whatever’s in that stinger of his is making everything feel different, you are actually scratching an itch at the back of your throat with Leon and it feels so fucking good to give him head and hearing him respond so eagerly to it. 

The sound he makes despite holding his shirt up with his mouth is choked and powerful as his hips jerk forward and pushes into your mouth, his guttural whine stutters from Leon as you swallow around him. He can’t talk and respond or tell you how you’re doing, but all the pretty noises, from gruff groans, to desperate humming, and restrained moaning tell you all about how he’s feeling. 

You run your nails along the skin underneath his naval and the muscles there jump, the bobbing of your head picking up unexpectedly as you’re literally working to rip his climax off, and he doesn’t feel it sneak up on him, breathing getting more rapid and panicked at how fast you’re wrenching it out of his dick and unconscious shallow thrusts meeting your movements right in the middle — you know exactly when he’s about to come from the slight swell of his dick in down your fluttering esophagus and the tightening of his stomach. 

That’s when you stop and take him out with an audible pop, your lips puffed and red, eyes teary. It twitches before slapping against him and his shirt falls from his teeth in an agonized and disappointed groan as his hips stutter forward in an attempt to search for friction, the fucking saliva trail connecting his lips to the fabric makes your heartbeat swoop downwards. “Why? I was right there!—”

You bat your eyelashes at him, blowing cold air on his denied arousal. “I know, baby.”

“You…” His lips draw back in the middle of a low sound at you gripping his base and giving the head kitten licks, alternating between swirling your tongue around and focusing on sucking the tip only. “Ah, what the fuck.” Your tongue delves into the slit of his head and precum gushes forward, his teeth are exposed in a breathy sharp hiss and a jolt.  “Yeah, that’s it… Shit.” 

The view of his fat chest and his strained, sweat-glistening strong neck swallowing is divine, you pick up the momentum again just to see him get worked up enough to throw his head back for the sight of his striking Adam’s apple, the black veins are doing something else to you that has your insides flipping.

You catch the glimpse of his tail swishing in the air, curling at tandem with your movements. You try taking all of him again to see how it’ll move and the sudden stop and trill has you wanting some friction between your legs. “Fuu—ck, your mouth is a vision, full of me.”

You lick along the bigger vein trailing up under his cock. “Does it feel that good?”

He only nods and thrums a small shudder, but you don’t let him off the leash just yet. “How easy.” Leon’s eyes snap open at the audacity. “Being chained and played with like this…” You give him a particularly harsh pump and the chains jangle because of his sudden tug. “Letting it happen because you want it so much. Desperate to be fucked.”

The degradation alone gets him to pulsate in your hand a couple times, his brow wrinkles as if he’s suffering. “You like this.” You drag a sluggardly strong grip up his weeping cock and his tail whips the ground. “Say it.”

His muscles tense and release, creating a rhythmic movement beneath the surface of his groin upon your teeth getting into the mix. “Shit — I love it.” His arms flex, causing his shackles to rattle. “Everything you do — everything you do to me feels amazing. Keep going, nearly there, I’m about to—”

You hum around him, and he clearly feels the vibrations, rising his hips in an unbelievably hot fluid movement and cursing under his breath, ruby-stained eyes glassy and feverish and mouth thinned and bit from inside. His thighs caging you begin to shake, and you’re made aware he’s close again. 

And this time, it’s him who knows you’ll pull back when he needs it the most. “Oh no, you don’t.” 

Something coils around your torso and pins you in place so his dick can’t slip out of your mouth, you struggle for air and attempt to pull back, but Leon barges in on your alarm, hoarse and gravelly. “Easy, it’s just me, don’t worry.”

Your hands grasp to the fabric of the jeans on the inside of his thighs, finally able to comprehend he used his tail to bind you — surprisingly gentle yet immovable, it doesn’t suffocate you, nor hurt you in any way. 

Mouth still around him, you look up to see he’s watching you, possessing a smoldering zeal, hunger a glint on a knife’s edge, shadow of a sly smile dances upon his lips, a knowing smirk, a sense of assuredness amplifying how he has you, one that reveals all that he’s thinking and claims control from your hands. With every heavy breath he takes, his chest rises and falls, revealing the heightened state of his arousal, and it seems his irises glow a shade darker crimson, a pulsating energy radiating from him, a palpable magnetism that ignites a fire within your own being.

“I’m going to move us around, stay still.” 

He makes sure to remove his erection from your mouth without hurting you before it’s with a natural predator’s grace he rises and stands up, his tail maneuvering you around to sit on your knees right in front of him, and you can only gape as he wraps the excess of chains around his wrists so they don’t get in the way, his forearms and biceps pop like they belong to a god like this. 

“Pretty mouth, waiting just for me.” At this height, he’s able to reach down and run a thumb along your bottom lip and push in, rubbing through the length of your tongue, fascinated.  

The giant appendage, then, unwinds around you, but much to your astonishment, doesn’t slither away, the thinnest end sneaking its way between your thighs instead and your legs clamp around it, but the drag forward defying your refusal has you squeaking. God, the jointed nature of it, like some weirdly shaped anal beads, is acting as periodic zaps moving against your heated sex. It even has the strength to fucking lift you up. Your panties are going to be ruined at this rate. “Leon, what—”

“Wanna make you feel good too.” You’re boosted up when it gives you a particularly harsh press, stars shooting everywhere in your vision with the delicious press not just focusing on one area, but rolling through your clit and dipping to make your entrance contract. “I’ll move it, you focus on taking me.”

Fuck, this is basically the thigh riding from before but on another level, that’s so hot —  

His manacled hands wrap around the angry red of his cock, the size of his hands so titillating fisting the length. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth, is that okay?”

You reflexively swallow, mouth watering instantly. “Please. Please.”

“Such a good girl, begging for my cock down your throat. I can’t refuse when you plead like that.” He rewards you by a rich thrust of his tail forward, your eyes closing in delight, you’re sure that a wet spot is forming with all that moving around. “Open up.” 

You obey and loosen your jaw as much as you can to let him set the pace, hands grabbing on the moving appendage between your legs in preparation to be used like some glory hole, but unlike your aggressive start from before, Leon is much more deliberate and unhurried in bottoming out, your head is swimming in a sea of dizzyingly gratifying smog, white and blanked out as he pleasures you through it. 

You get so lost in it that he sharply hisses and caresses your forehead with shaking hands and has to warn, “No teeth, sweet girl. Relax… Yeah, just like that. You’re doing so well, so perfect, making me feel so good.” 

You don’t mean to mewl around him the way you do, but his praises are so sweet as if he’s always getting his dick sucked for the first time, makes you feel appreciated, makes you feel special. 

Tears are streaming down your face, saliva drooling down your chin, you’re sure you’re gonna have a sore throat after this, and that sight would be ugly and messy to you, something you wouldn’t want to show anyone, needlessly embarassing, but it spurs Leon on, he craves prettying you up as he says, loves that you become a mess just for him — and you had missed all of that being a sign of neediness before all this. He loves the feeling of being special just as you do, loves that he’s able to get you filthy like this. 

“Shit — can’t believe I get to have this forever, now… Never thought… Never—” He breathily laughs, the sound turning into a wanton growl as your throat constricts through his drawn-out, unrushed thrusts. He’s babbling like a man in a confessional, speed beginning to pick up, the movement of his tail also reflecting the frenetic climb, sending your snowballing itch spiraling into completion. “Don’t care what happens anymore — don’t care, don’t care, only need this—sah, fuck!”  

His hands hastily rest on top of your hand to keep you in place and you whine and squeal, his stretch digging impossibly further down, a long groan echoing in the chamber at the same time of something metallic shattering and falling off with incredible strength, Leon’s hips twitching in place with your nose buried deep in the fuzz of hair at the base of his cock. Waves of warm spurts drizzle down your esophagus, and you don’t taste anything, but have a go at swallowing on instinct, and it coerces a strained, debauched moan out of him. 

His tail moves to pull you away from him and you sit back on your heels, shaking more so from your impending orgasm being pulled right under your feet like a rug because of the abrupt halt of the rhythm, unable to stop the coughing, wrapping a hand around your throat for dampening the soreness, and before you know it, his lips have taken the place of your hand, smothering your neck and your face with kisses. 

“You did so good. A fucking angel of sin — for me only.” He doesn’t hesitate to entwine his tongue with yours tenderly as if it’s a honeyed treat to lap up, his gratitude and enthusiasm running high as before. The way he speaks into your mouth gets you pressing your legs together to ease the painful, sweet throbbing between your legs. “You were amazing, sucked the soul out of me, holy shit.”

A whiny, “Leon,” and a tug on his shirt is all he needs to know you need him.  

“I know sweet girl, I have you.” His tail sneaks around your waist again, loose in case of your refusal. In the corner of your eye, you see the winch fastening the chains on the ceiling is squashed on the floor, yet his hands are still bound. “You trust me to make you feel good, right?”

“Yes, always.”

“You can say no if you don’t like this.” The sensation of being moved so easily by something alien is frightening as much as it’s arousing when it’s coming from Leon, your anticipation is about to drip down your legs at his tail gently propelling you up to stand on both feet steadily and turning you around so your back is facing Leon. You are bent down from the waist, and the fear of falling makes you jump, but the appendage is fully supporting you, almost making you float, you could stand on your tiptoes with full body weight and you wouldn’t crash on your forehead. “Is this alright?”

You are about to break down in a series of tremors from how much this is turning you on. “Yeah.”

His hands run along your tailbone. “I’m going to chain your wrists behind your waist. That okay?”

“Fuck. Yes.”

“Tell me if it’s too tight.” He doesn’t need to reach for your hands, you align them to rest on your waist on top of each other. He does adjust them a bit and sets you straight after you crane your neck to take a good look at what he’s doing — you’re only able to get a single frame of him unwinding some of the restraints around his wrists to bind them around yours, affectively connecting both your shackled wrists together in a short line of chain. One of his hands grabs and tugs, securing his tail around your torso a bit better at the same time. “How is that? Any discomfort?”

“It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Can you please just fuck me already, I’m about to die.”

He lets you go to slide two fingers up your clothed pussy, your folds quite literally pulsing at the contact. “It’s burning up —- you want to brand me, huh?”

You don’t indulge in his running mouth, just wanting to enjoy the fiery pleasure his fondling fingers light in their wake. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He switches to pulling your pants down together with your panties, but not all the way down, making it hang in the middle of the most supple part of your thighs, efficaciously getting them to act as yet another restraint, this time, around your legs so you won’t be able to part them. Two digits easily slide inside and you yelp, held in place mercilessly. “Fuck,” he says, faintly, a subdued composure, the voice going straight to your pussy and making you clench over his fingers. “You eat me up so eagerly. That hungry, sweet girl?”

Your head’s tingling and buzzing from all that rush of blood in this position, everything gets more overwhelming when you bow your head. You just want him inside you. “Please…”

 You pitifully moan at the loss of your fingers, and the brief squeeze of his tail is comforting. “I’ll relieve you.” The replacement of his bulbous tip running through your lower lips is enough stimulation for your toes to curl inside your shoes. 

You’re shaking with the release of your anticipation, and he curses. “Fuck, you’re sucking me in.” The same chain that binds you both rattles when he grabs your bound wrists, your eyes widening at how his tail also simultaneously pulls you towards him to sink into his girthy length, working together with his hips. 

He’s working you. Using you. Manhandling you, drilling you into him like he’s using a fleshlight as he pleases and everything feels so euphoric, your mind descending into a foggy, floaty bliss despite the tears of instant gratification; the whole burden of responsibility, decision-making, and external pressures melt away and only he exists, and the ecstasy Leon’s spoon-feeding you.

He checks in on you, pulling on your binds, voice tight. “Feel good, sweet girl?” 

“I wa—” You hiccup, followed by a trembling whimper, wanting something for your neglected clit, you can’t reach the threshold like this, you keep rising but not enough. “I wanna come, please, let me—”

“Sshh.” His tail is circling you, like a snake twisting around its prey, and you don’t get it at first that he’s getting more of it into the grip for the fat and curling part of his stinger to be able to reach and roll over your unattended, swollen nub. 

Your mind is so sunken into the pleasure you can’t even worry about the barbed part getting near your vulnerable parts, but he’s an expert at making it knead just the way that gets you uninhibitedly screaming. “I got you, I got you.”

Your legs collapse beneath you, his tail carrying your entire weight as your climax fractures within you unexpectedly, not even taking some time to grow and spread and take time aching — it just explodes, making your body convulse in aftershock shudders, unable to contain your palpitating sobs. 

“Ah, Jesus Christ, fuck!—” The clamp of your cunt around Leon also dropkicks him into his own orgasm, shooting straight into your cervix. He rams into you a couple times before he bottoms out to the hilt, his chained hands having yours in a death-grip, staying like that until the twitching of his cock subsides and he starts going soft. 

When you come to next, the chains are completely gone, broken and shattered on the floor, even. Your clothes are straightened and he sits cross-legged on the ground, his back to a wall, and you’re on his lap, tightly hugged by him, still struggling to catch your breath. The view of his muscular arms around your waist is a delight, as always. 

“I feel disgusting,” you say. A sense of discomfort washes over you, amplified by the lingering physical sensations of sweat and fluids. Your face contorts with a mix of satisfaction and unease, the need to cleanse yourself from the stickiness that clings to your skin uncomfortable.

“I think that was amazing.”

You snort. “Not that — I mean, I want to take a bath, everything feels so sticky.”

Leon plants a kiss to the side of your head. “I’ll take you.” 

He probably means somewhere you can clean yourself, but you can’t help but ask. “Take me where?” 

He pulls you in to snuggle better, resting his forehead on your shoulder, tired but playful. “Well, there’s this castle.” 

He still hasn’t told you all that much about what’s going to happen. There is no salvation from the parasite inside you anymore, it has its home in you, but you know you’re not a captive, not when you share the same chains as him. “After our visit, can I—can we return home, then?”

“I…” The sentence dies as it starts. “I don’t think that’s possible. Not for a while.”

“Because you won’t let me?”

“Because I don’t know what Saddler will want with you.”

He knew the consequences. 

Something inside you makes you change your mind — no, he chose the lesser of two evils for you knowing what was coming. 

You can’t bring yourself to blame him, this was meant to happen — you were meant for this gift, meant for this fate, to carry this creature, share it with him. You feel less doubtful and sure of this now, feel the same red of Leon’s eyes, the black of his veins, you shoulder the agony together. 

Your common sense gives a last breath as it fades into non-existence. “We’re fucked, aren’t we?”

He chuckles, shielded and spiteful. “Yeah.”

“But you still wanted me by your side.”

“I was worried.”

“You were lonely.” He succumbs into a muzzled silence, and you try to reach out once again. “At least we’re together, right?” 

“Yeah… Together in this hell.” You don’t get to see what kind of face he’s making. His deep voice is raspy, and despite his contrition, he’s holding onto you tighter than before. Failure is a shame upon him, and he doesn’t let himself be comforted. “I’m sorry for bringing you down with me.”

“I’d burn for you, anyway. I don’t care.”

He’s brusque and uncompromising. “I wouldn’t let you burn.”

“Then I’d burn with you.” You turn in his lap to look him right in the eyes — his red meets your red. “Together in this hell, right?”

Lambs to the slaughter. 

[jinuaei]

all i can think about is (maybe)yandere!re4 Leon x merchant! reader(or just the merchant really)

With all he's gone through in Spain he cannot deny the relief that spreads through his body as he sees the familiar hues of the purple flame just right outside where you reside. His eyes peers through the doorway to see you fixing up your wares, humming to yourself as you prepare to showcase the goods you have collected along the journey. Leon can't help but relax every time he sees you, for his companions have abandoned him again and again, often times getting kidnapped or straight up being dead. Yet, you are the only person that he knows that will never leave him, the constant being that he can come back to when his will to fight plummets to the ground, and the only person that gave him support through weapons and gear. Yes he is aware that you just talk to him for his money but he doesn't care, he will give it all up just so he gets to see you at the end of the day.

Leon's grip on his gun tightens as he thinks about what would happen if his merchant disappears all of a sudden, surely he will lose his mind. His thoughts becomes darker as he imagines his saviour, YOU, not being there with your quips and your impatience, surely he will burn all of Los Illuminados just to find you again. He doesn't even want to think about where you will be at the end of this mission, maybe he will deliberately fail this mission just so he can stay here with you, killing Ashley would be easy with how much trust she has on this government agent sent by her own father...

[shaisuki]

A TASTE OF HOME

YANDERE! ITOSHI BROTHERS X CHUBBY READER

content warnings ─── noncon, dubious consent, unprotected sex, rin loses his shit, obsessive behaviors, possessive behaviors, delusional thoughts, aged up characters (both brothers are pro), dead dove do not eat. it sums up everything. reader is engaged/married to sae. sae and reader have a child together or is his?

ᝰ synopsis .ᐟ rin finally gets his taste of what's his and the consequences of it. will fate place itself on his favor?

"rin!"

a call of his name brought him out of the deafening cheers of the crowd. how could rin forget that voice. clear and soothing as the waves of the sea. turning around, rin's eye slightly widens. you were there calling him and he stares at you.

all in the flesh and moving. taking small steps at him as you approach him and there's a slight hesitation in there. his heart beats faster than normal, it's almost leaping out of joy.

"rin. it's been years." looking at your eyes and the shine in them from seeing him. your hands at your side and when he nods, you wrapped your arms around him.

rin almost groans when he felt your soft, plush body pressed against his lean body. how it feels the same when you hugged him like those years before you left him. warm and comforting. a smile threatening to surface up in his face but fought it.

you're here and of course, his older brother too. a few step behind you, gaze watching you and him. it's always the same bored look he sports and rin got nothing but to punch his brother in the face.

he didn't hug you back, his gaze never leaving his brother. the same teal eyes of his brother similar to his only stares back at him. it seems like yesterday he declared his love for you in front of his brother and now you're here. a tight bear hug on him, embracing him with such joy that he's happy that you miss him.

releasing your arms around his body. you slowly stepped back from him. a sad smile in your lips. knowing rin is still upset from suddenly leaving him when you decided to follow sae to spain.

"it's nice to see you again, rin." reaching out to him to kiss his cheek before turning away from him. you can still sense the pain you had caused him. your absence breaking his heart in your last moments in the past and you can only distance yourself. afraid that you will hurt him furthermore. no words were said, the reason it will just hurt him more.

stoic his face is seen the outside, rin could perceive your skeptic attitude towards him. your sad smile in his thoughts replaying all over again. giving him the space he needed. he thought he's emotions slowly cracks at his shell but it only hardens. leaving him no space to show what he truly felt. they're not allowed to see him, to be this vulnerable. those eyes following him, his brother and you. you're not allowed to see his weakness, not even a moment of it and rin wished you could be his again.

sae could not resist you and so he returns home. to his parents and to his brother. sae knew there's no way of mending his relationship his brother but he can pretend. they can pretend while they ate dinner at their parent's house with yours.

you sat beside him and your parents in the opposite direction. a talk between bites and their playful banters of the latest gossip between mothers and the usual talk between fathers.

"sae, what's your plan now?" his father asks. taking a swig from the spirits in his cup. the table went silent for a minute for his response.

he looks at you and you gave him a nod, giving a small smile.

"stuff, preparing for the next season and before that, (y/n) and i are engaged." he briefly said. reaching out for your hand and links it to his. no explanations were followed. period. you and him are engaged.

his father puts his fork down and scoffs, "about time. congratulations, son." he praised, your mother and his gasps followed by a banter. "guess we're related now!" they almost exclaimed.

engaged. his brother is now engaged to you. he can see the ring cushioned in your chubby ring finger and his mouth goes dry. like he swallowed sawdust in his mouth. his hands gripping the spoon that it almost bends. his heart rate increasing as moment goes by.

rin excuses himself, no words were said. he simply walks away on the dinner table. his fist clenched while he walks back to his old bedroom. rin wants to cry but no tears came. rin remembers he doesn't shed tears. no matter how frustrating or hopeless he felt.

the coldness growing deep inside him. why must he always lose in everything. the room temperature drops and he stares at the television in front of him. his reflection on the television screen and he looks pathetic. the temperature drops a few degrees in his room and at this point rin doesn't know if it's the room or his feelings are cold.

a knock in his bedroom door, breaking him out of his trance. he thinks so. rin turns around to look to the person who was disturbing him.

his lips formed into a thin line while he stares at you.

closing the door behind, you sat beside him. a distance where put. not wanting to invade his space.

"rin. i'm just checking up on you." you started. trying to start a conversation with him. rin just looks at you emotionless. still processing on what happened earlier.

"you should be downstairs, with my brother." he nonchalantly says, no emotion to display.

"i know, i just want to be with you for a bit." your hands into your lap while you twiddled with your engagement ring and rin wants to snap out to you. tell how vile you are for playing with his feelings but he remained silent. he doesn't have the guts to do that to you. you don't deserve it.

it's not your fault. it's his brother's. he took you away from him. made you broke the promise you made to him on that day.

your eyes darts to the shelf whereas his and sae's trophies and picture frames are held but it's gone. they're all gone except for your photograph.

he looks back at his reflection, the bed behind him. would things be different if you had not decided to follow his brother.

his sight narrows into yours.

"did he force you?"

"who? sae? no, he didn't rin. why would you think that?"

"it's the only the reason why you left me."

a solemn look cascades to your face. lips slightly parted. it was true. you left him but you can't left sae also. needing you more than ever.

"sae needs me there, rin."

rin scoffs at you answer. "need? that's it? need." gripping his dark green hair, showing those teal eyes that is filled with disbelief and anger. rin couldn't believe what he was hearing. you left him for his selfish brother who only thinks for himself and what he wants.

"am i not enough for you? to choose sae over me. i have always loved you, (y/n). i always will." rin said, declaring his love for you. after all these years, he finally said it and rin feels like there's a heavy weight removed in his shoulders.

your eyes widens at his confession. speechless you are, it took awhile for you to respond. rin harbored feeling for you all these years and you felt bad. leaving him for the other but what can you do. you were young and stupid at that time. until now, emotional maturity isn't one of your strong suits.

choose the one and you'll destroy the other. you hadn't seen rin to be these emotional but how could you judge him. the heavy burden of surpassing his older brother and his feelings he kept for you all these years. you seem heartless in comparison. finding the dream in spain with sae.

with a shake of your head and biting your lower lip. you fought a sob. knowing that you can never reciprocate rin's feeling. you were engaged. you are starting a new life with sae.

"rin." beginning to construct the right words. "you're enough. you always are and i can't return your feelings rin. i'm with sae now." bundling up your dress in your fists. you felt pathetic. you can't even find the right words for him.

oh, he lost. again. to his older brother. is there anything his brother can't take something from him. life sure finds a way of mocking him. belittling him in every efforts he made. his affection for you doesn't even your mind nor your feelings for sae. if he can't have you, so does sae.

a pure rage settles in his eyes. rin can't believe what he's doing but he had enough. he finds ways in getting what he wants. improve himself. he did. dedicated himself for soccer. he did. indulge himself to you. he will.

a brief calmness took over him. rin leans down to you. dead calm he is but you can never ignore calm, not when it's calm before the storm. a storm that rages deep inside him.

his fingers in your chin, "you're mine, (y/n). i don't give a fuck if you're engaged to sae. you will always be mine." he whispers, brushing his lips to your ears and you felt small.

"rin, please understand i don't mean to hurt you and i'm sorry. it's my decision to be with sae. i value us, rin. there are circumstances that we can't avoid and this is it." you explained, reaching out to hold his cheeks into your hands.

if this was in a different scenario, rin would relish unto it. you comforting him in ways that only you can do it. foreheads pressed and your eyes. it's so pretty and true like a dream he don't want to wake up.

"i never meant to hurt us, rin. i wish life was just kinder to us. you still have a life ahead of you rin. don't waste it to me. some things are never meant for us." your eyes glossy and rin couldn't be bothered. it was just an excuse. you can't love him the way he loves you.

"waste my life to you? i am prepared for that. this is what my future should be. with you. do you think i would shed tears and blood for all the hard work so sae can have you? there's no way i'll give you up easily to sae. you're mine! you're fucking mine." rin fumes at you. his muscles tense and those teal eyes of his bore into you with burning resentment.

you flinched at his outburst. never did that you will ever hear rin be this angry at you. a tear slips in your eye. you remained silent, not knowing how to calm or mend what's left in rin. you felt hopeless and just like that you choose to flee.

"i'm sorry, rin. i really am. i should probably go." fixing your cardigan and standing up to open the door.

a hand grabbed your arm before you can turn the knob. "you ain't leaving me here, not until i got taste of what's mine." your body freeze at the sudden contact and you were shoved to the bed. the sheet rustles when your back hits the soft mattress and you were pinned by rin. his whole weight putting it whole above you to avoid escape.

"rin! what the hell you're doing to me?! stop it!" you cried out. thrashing to break free from rin. your back arching to disturb rin's balance and you succeeded. momentarily shoving him off. your feet touching the cold floor but before you can reach the door, rin's hand were way faster to grab you by your cardigan.

pulling you away to the door and shoves you again to the bed. this time his whole weight crushing you. his hands into your wrist. his legs pinning you down.

"stop resisting, you would make this harder for us." holding your wrists so hard that it's going to crush your bones if it wasn't for the extra cushion you had in your skin.

"this isn't different from what you and sae is doing. i can be him. better than him."

his expression dark and menacing that if you move you'll be killed.

"this is wrong, rin. stop this. please!" you plead. swallowing the nervousness you were having. hoping it'll convince him.

no convincing will change his mind. a brief memory flashes in rin's mind.

suddenly, with rin pinning you down under him. it reminds him where you two would casually play fight during winter. in the snowy field. a thick snow coating the entire place. puffs of cold air in the middle of winter. snowballs are thrown to each other and you laying down. too tired to run from rin and he will join you. the time of innocence where nothing bothered you two at all. that you both are fine from the absence of sae.

his cheeks flushed with the color of pink from the coldness. his hand holding yours for warmth and you would squeeze it. tell him it's fine and he would smile from that.

darkness looms all over rin and his expressionless gaze only leaves him with nothing but lust and longing for you.

there's no telling on what's rin was thinking. it has always been the same expression he shared with his brother. there's no going back with this.

your cries only fell into rin's deaf ears and his eyes is only filled with anger and lust.

rin leans down and his lips makes contact with yours. it only started as slow and rin gauges what your reaction will be but you only whimpered. moving your head to the side, his lips into your cheek for him to kiss and it angers him but it doesn't deter him from kissing the side of your head.

his head moving down and his lips also and it stops where your pulse is. your lips wobbled and no matter how you move, his strength only holds you down. so much for underestimating rin's body mass compared to yours, you could easily overpower him but years of training left him with nothing but pure strength.

rin licks the skin in your neck and you shivers. hoping rin would just stop but no matter how you pleaded he won't.

"sae..." you called out and rin heard it. his mind in swirls and it fuels him to just mark you and kiss and lick the skin in your body.

his grip tightens. his anger surfacing with the call of his brother's name. his actions starting to get more aggressive.

rin removes the cardigan you were wearing and fuck the dress you were wearing. god, you look fucking gorgeous under him and fuck you for calling his brother when he's the one who's making you feel good. he loves you so much that he can forgive you for your stupid decisions of not choosing him.

your hands hold his wrist when his fingers came to loosen the straps of your dress. your hands freed when realizing resistance if futile. a man is stronger when feelings are involved and that's the situation you're in. you couldn't bring yourself to scream nor shout for help. it would help you out of this situation but you don't want his parents and yours especially sae that you were pinned down by your soon-to-be brother-in-law. knowing the full understanding that you will be blamed for the situation you were in. tempting a man like rin.

"r-rin. i don't want this." you tears clouding your vision. you could only make up what rin looks like above you.

tears poured more when you feel your dress sliding down. your chest exposed and you can feel the humiliation to be bare in rin's eye.

seeing your frightened expression and the tears in your eyes, it only fuel his obsession to you. there's no other person who could make him feel this way. rin waited too long. too long to be this close to you.

his sight darts to your exposed body. the dress resting on to your hips and rin licks his lips. this is what his brother feasted on for years. indulge himself in this body of yours and rin shivers. it was finally his turn and he's going to spoil himself, for the hardwork he earned for himself. a reward befitting for him.

rin drinks in the sight of your body. the scars. the streaks of the discolored skin decorating your body. your flaws exposed to him and he admires it like it was an artwork. a piece of art that only of the blessed could see something like this. your love handles in display and the insecurities you had.

his hand holds the hem in his sweatshirt before pulling it above him. throwing the garment in the unknown part of his room. in no time, rin is also naked. prepares himself to claim what's his.

"i stopped caring what you had want, it's my turn." rin said before forcing you into a kiss. his lips moving expertly into your and rin cups your jaw making you open your mouth and he shoves his tongue inside to you. tongue swirling and a moist sound of exchanging of saliva is surfacing up.

the desperation, the longing, the lust and other emotions are mixed in his kisses. rin waited for this long. for a kiss from you. even he forced it. his feelings mixed up on those kisses and he doesn't stop when you're almost running out of breath.

the satisfaction of kissing you was more that he could expect from you. the softness of your lips molds perfectly in his. it's almost you were made for him. he stops when his air is running short.

a string of saliva connecting your lips and his and rin only licks it.

his mouth finding the skin in your shoulder. kissing and nibbling wherever his mouth finds it's way to your skin. to your nonexistent collarbones and to your chest. giving them his full atenttion.

rin cups the mound of flesh in your chest. rolls the stiff peaks in between his finger while his mouth encircles in one of your buds. only hums of satisfaction leaving in his mouth while he worships you. kissing every marks in your body. make sure they are kissed and marked.

it wasn't long before rin reached your sweet cunt. begging to be filled from the wetness he was seeing and your thighs preventing them to touch it but rin was having none of it.

prying your thighs with his strength and you could only cry. no matter how much you kick and thrashed he'll only overpower you.

"i'll make you feel good." he only mutters before taking a long lick in your juicy cunt making him groan at the taste. his arms hugging the pillowy flesh of your thighs.

his tongue flattening in to your chubby pussy lips, catching the the click coming out from your hole. every suck and slurp send you to your impending orgasm.

"r-rin!" your thighs trembles around his head and rin smirks. your hips unconsciously grinding to his face and continuing his licks to your cunt and fuck did it feel good for him when you cums in his face.

you remained helpless and rin climbs up into you. holding your face with his hands whilst his thumb is wiping the tears that is freely flowing out of your eyes. at this time when rin sees you cry, he attempts to comfort you in his way but now he was the reason of it. only staring at you with no expression.

"i don't want it, rin. let me go. i'm begging you." you can't do anything but cry harder when rin is already slipping his length inside you.

rin grunts when he feels your warm wall engulfs him. so tight and he had to slowly bury his length to you inch by inch and rin almost drools when his cock fully settled inside you. your walls spasming around him, if rin had no control. he had already cummed inside you seconds ago.

rin admires your expression in front of him. the tears staining in your cheeks an your lips forms into a pout. you were hurt but it can't compare what he had to endure from the suffering his brother had inflicted to him and from stealing you away from him.

this is revenge and it will be the sweetest one for him.

his hips started to move, fully thrusting his length to yours and a cry left in your lips. the delicious drag of his cock inside yours made it intense. slick continuously escapes from your hole.

rin digs his fingers into the plushness of your waist while thrusting his cock inside you. it's almost sick.

rin could never think that he'll love another woman besides you. his one and only. you were irreplaceable. you should be in his arms. he will do everything in his power just to have you and he will treat you so much better than his brother could do.

he can feel the coldness of the ring in your ring finger when you hold his wrist.

he don't care. he don't care if you're marrying his brother in this situation where he's fucking you. maybe, sae will leave you and he'll have you for himself. that wasn't a bad idea. maybe, he could get you pregnant. that's right. he could do it.

with a new found resolved, he plunges his cock deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot that gets him going from how you were hard clenching. you want him. he can feel from how tight you were hugging him.

his heart beating than usual, your moans becoming louder in his ear and rin pants knowing he's so close. just a few more. he'll be marking you as his too. fuck. you're so beautiful. so damn gorgeous. your soft tummy jiggling at his thrusts, your face twisted in the pleasure you can't dent and

your words are barely coherent at this point. rin's desperate thrusts while he ravishes you and your body drowning in the sinful pleasure he was giving you. your cunt getting tighter at the pounding he was giving you. the familiar build up of your incoming release gathers in the pit of your stomach.

rin's pants, the sheen of sweat coating each other's skin and your vision getting cloudy. your tears still drips out from your eyes.

rin curses out, followed by a groan while his thighs shook, flashes of white passing through his eyes while he releases his load inside you. thick, white spurts of his cum coating every inch inside of you.

his orgasm triggers yours. a choked sob followed by the shaking of your thighs. heavy pants coming from your mouth. you closed your eyes for a minute, riding out from the intensity of the orgasm. like waves after a storm and your body lays limp under him.

rin doesn't bother to pull out his cock. making sure every drop of his cum takes over your insides. peppering your body with kisses.

"you're mine." he mutters and connects his lips to yours but you turned your face to the side. his lips hitting your cheek and rin got annoyed. gripping your jaw and forces his lips into yours.

"much better." he said before laying besides you. his arms draping all over your body.

a tear drops in your eyes. followed by another and then another. you felt used. betrayed. how can you face sae? your fiancee.

how could you tell him, his younger brother fucked you in the old bedroom of his and would he believe you?

the dread and the realization dropped like you were being poured of ice cold water. shivers running down to your spine.

gathering the last remaining strength you had. you slowly picked up your clothes. dressing up and fixed yourself like nothing happened. slowly but surely, you buttoned your cardigan. wiping your tears with the palm of your hand and you sniffle.

rin's arms wrapped around your soft middle. your cries getting louder and he only soothes you by smothering you with kisses in your shoulder and to your neck.

"leave me alone, rin." taking a deep breath and fastening the last buttons of your cardigan.

his grip only tightens.

"i won't. you'll always be mine." he whispers before pressing a chaste kiss in your neck.

the ride back to the hotel was silent. no words were exchanged were said until you were both in the confines of your room.

how can you look at his eyes when it reminds you of rin's gaze and the betrayal. you let his own brother take advantage of you and now you're facing your consequences.

"sae, i think we should call off our engagement." you began, the tears well up in your eyes. sae needs the truth. he has the right to know. he can't spend his life with someone like you.

"and why's that?" his voice flat, his gaze not leaving you.

you bit your lip, you can't do it. shaking your head and your fingers already making it's way to remove the engagement ring.

his hand only came to pull you and your face is buried in his chest. of course, sae knows everything.

the tears came crashing down and it was soaking sae's shirt but he didn't say anything. looking back at his reflection in the windows. his teal eyes darkening for a second before it returned to normal. fucking sneak of a younger brother.

"it's fine. you were just used. i don't blame you."

"b-but.."

he only shuts you up. "don't think anything about it. only look at me." his thumb wiping the dried tears in your cheek.

his hand holding yours and admires the ring he placed in your cute, chubby finger. you were finally his. he don't care if his brother fucked you. he will always be your first and last. and his brother is just a bump on the road.

"let's get you cleaned."

bubbles formed in the top of the tub where you are currently submerged. free from your clothing and sae was too.

his hands rubbing all over your body and he can still make out the visible marks his brother left in you. although a little angry. he remained emotionless.

his teeth grazing in the surface of your skin and bites on the marks on what his brother had done to you. your body slowly relaxing and you crumble under his touch. wanting to forget rin.

that night sae ravaged you. marking you all over while you two are covered in each other's sweat. only whispering each other's name and making love like there's no tomorrow.

admiring the ring in your finger, sae remembered when he proposed to you. the gentle waves of the sea hitting the coarse, gritty sand. the sun shining its first rays of light, reflecting on the clear waters of the vastness of the ocean.

your eyes stares at him and sae thinks it's now or never. he was never been so sure in all his life and he's standing in front of you. a ring between his thumb and index finger. his lips capturing yours while he slid the ring on your ring finger.

such a beautiful moment for the two of you. the sun rising, its lights covering you both in the middle of the beach.

your head resting on his chest, blankets covering your naked body. sae twists the ring in your finger. you calling off the engagement. he's not letting that happened. there's no way his brother would get the satisfaction of you two breaking up.

after all, you were made for him and nothing else.

itoshi riku. your son with sae. a beautiful baby boy just like his father. those same teal eyes and the long lashes. his thick red-bean colored hair similar to his father. how unfair. your son almost takes all sae's features with the exception of your skin tone and you can't deny it's your child with sae.

a tear rolls in your cheek. you were blessed with a healthy baby boy. proud that you have given birth to such child and you couldn't be more happier.

but happiness don't last long. your son growing quickly and his features becoming distinct. you were reminded by your betrayal. how could you miss those dark green locks of sae's brother. a patch of dark green showing in the fringe of your son's hair.

genetics be damned. they're brothers. rin's revenge to his brother did really took root and it's in your son.

it didn't escape sae. his only response when you talked about is, "we're brothers."

his treatment to his son didn't change and to yours. you are his wife. the mother of his child and he won't let a single resemblance to his younger brother would ruin you both.

then there's the family gathering. rin who was still making his way to the football leagues caught the sight of you holding a toddler in your arms.

the child resting on your shoulder and rin couldn't deny the child or your son is a spitting image of his older brother. the hair was a dead give away and the lashes he and his brother have the same. it wasn't a surprised your child with sae's would inherit it.

his parents were ecstatic finally having a grandchild, after sae's engagement to you and before a wedding could happen. you were pregnant.

hope blossoms in rin's chest at that day. wishing the child you were carrying was his but it was still his brother. that reason still wouldn't deter him from wanting you.

your mother had been fussing why the fringe in your child's hair is clipped. answering her that it would irritate his face but your mother had just called you nonsense. removing the clip and the fringe in your son's hair broke free and rin's eyes widens.

heh. it really did take root on you. no matter how his brother would create ways to separate you two. fate would find a way for him to be with you.

an arm drapes in his shoulder. rin scowls at his brother.

"don't take satisfaction from that rin. that's my child and my wife. don't think i had forgotten what you did to her. you had your fill but it won't be happening again." sae whispers to him.

rin only looks at his brother. his brother could threaten him all he wants but he's sure.

rin will find a way again to you.

[greycloudsinwinter]

How do you think yandere romantic king Henry the 8 from the show the Spanish princess might react to reader having more or equal power as him maybe reader is the the heir to France and becomes the next ruler of France or reader is the heir of Scotland or Spain.

YANDERE HENRY VIII X READER QUESTION 1

👑at first he is shocked when he finds out about your statues .

👑he now knows he can’t manipulate or anger you because he fears your anger.

👑when you become queen/king he instantly glues himself to your side using the excuse of wanting to deepen the bonds of England and (chosen country).

👑will use your royalty heritage against you though. Making a brave proposal to you one that would benefit from both countries.

👑most likely you both take turns visiting each other in your countries.

👑becomes more desperate to please you .

👑wants two heirs now so that you both have some one to success the throne after you.

Thank you for the question ❤️❤️

[alevicke]

💖 MASTERPOST💖

CURRENTLY CLOSED

Hi! Since I love writing x readers sometimes but lack of ideas, I've decided to make a masterpost with fandoms and characters I write for! I will be adding some x readers I already have as well, just give me a moment if you see this being edited because I'm not home ;v;

I want to make the disclaimer that English is NOT my native language and sadly I don't have anyone who can read my posts to verify if they are ok. I try my very best, but it's not perfect and I apologize for this 🙏

WHEN REQUESTING PLEASE TRY TO BE SPECIFIC 💖 Three chasracters as maximun!

FANDOMS

💖💖 Cult of the Lamb💖 💖

Overwatch

Team Fortress 2

Dead By Daylight (killers mostly)

PLEASE BE AWARED THAT FOR CULT OF THE LAMB IDEAS, IF I LIKE IT TOO MUCH I MIGHT INSTEAD DRAW IT, MAKE A COMIC OR A LITTLE ANIMATION!

My Heket is lesbian! Please keep that in mind ^^ I wouldn't really like to receive a request trying to ship Heket with male characters, it's not my thing sorry! (I respect if you do it, just not my headcanon ^^)

Rules!

Yes

NSFW is fine

Send me scenarios better than "cat!reader" if possible <3

I prefer romantic more than platonic scenes

Female/GN!Reader

Yandere is fine???? But I'm kinda too soft on it probably to be considered yandere so don't trust me about this please.

Fluff! With family dynamics and fluff in general <3

Slice of life are my favourite probably

Three characters as maximun!

No

Minors in NSFW situations

No more TADC, I left that fandom due to bad experiences. I'm really sorry!!!

Minor reader

Non-con/dub-con

Asphyxiation or similar (sorry, HUGE trigger for me)

Strong kinks such as scat, watersports...

Nothing with dead people and animals in NSFW

Nothing about abortions (Another personal trigger) nor neglecting the kid or not loving them, same with pregnancy.

Please don't ask " x reader who is like y character from this fandom!" because I will most likely NOT know how they are and won't be able to portray them correctly D:

Fav characters

LITERALLY EVERYONE FROM CULT OF THE LAMB I HAVE NO SELF CONTROL I NEED HELP I'M JUST OBSESSED, EACH CHARACTER IS AMAZING OMFG

Ships like Narilamb and Leshycat are accepted <3

The Huntress (DBD)

Pyramid Head (DBD)

Roadhog (OW)

Junker Queen (OW)

Ashe (OW)

Widowmaker (OW)

Posts created!

The Amazing Digital Circus (not accepting more request, left this fandom completely due to bad experiences)

[Req]TADC x Reader who ran away and suddenly comes back with a baby from them (Caine, Ragatha and Jax)

[Req] Jax x F!Reader who teases back (NSFW)

[Req]TADC x Reader telling them they are pregnant (Jax, Ragatha and Caine)

[Req]Gangle x f!reader - Confession and first time 💖

Overwatch

Not so amazing headcanons! (Cassidy, Junkrat, Junker Queen, Ashe, DVA)

Dead By Daylight

Killers getting sick x gn!reader (Huntress, Michael Myers, Ghostface, Spirit)

Killers x gn!reader with acne and low self esteem (Huntress, Plague, Legion [Susie], Pyramid Head)

[Req]Killers x gn!clingy!reader (Trickster, Huntress, Spirit)

Personal info below 💖

Alek! Also called Alevi o Alevick. My artist name is Alevick and Vicketch, be aware that I create NSFW if you search it!

From Spain, 25yo, bd on October 30th 💖

I'll be adding more!

[midnightlee25]

Yandere Team-ups: France (Francis Bonnefoy) & Prussia (Gilbert Beilschmidt) & Spain (Antonio Fernandez Carriedo)

Bad touch trio  

Out of the three of them Prussia is the main one who does the punishments while Spain will rarely do punishments. France is the only one out of the three that won't do punishments since the other two will do it.

On the other hand, it's the same two (France and Spain) who will try to get their darling’s punishment lightened or make it harsher.  

All three are delusional however each one is at a different level with France being the most delusional and Prussia just being a bit more aware. Spain is in the middle between the two on the scale.

It's not that hard to keep things peaceful since they get along already and adding their darling in the mix isn't going to cause too many problems.

Their darling will be completely always smothered by all three.  

It will be near impossible to escape those three on a good day let alone a bad day.

[zyettemoon1800]

Pillarmen x reader with back problems

pillar men react when their s/o that has glasses

pillarmen react to their mate being unable to have children

Pillarmen x painter reader

Pillar men x black s/o

Pillarmen reacting to a s/o with curly hair

pillerbois with an s/o that slav squats

Explaining valentines day to the Pillarmen

pillar men be like with a s/o who has feline-like qualities

Pillarmen with an incubi s/o

General male s/o hc with the pillermen

pillarmen x s/o with abandonment issues

pillar men x black s/o when they wash their hair

pillar men x  fem.tall reader

Pillarmen x belly dancer

Pillarmen reacting to s/o cosplaying as them

Pillermen react to an S/O who lives touching their horns

pillarmen reacting to a s/o who doesn't like to be touch

Pillarmen x s/o that has a bad tooth

Giving and receiving

pillarmen react to a s/o that is allergic to ginger

Yandere Pillar men reacting their suicidal daring

Pillar men Easter

Pillarmen when they see the baby is growing their horn(s)

Pillarmen x short reader

Pillar men: Ass, tits, chub, or thighs

pillarmen would react to the reader telling them "I'm in Spain without the S"

Pillarmen wanting to cuddle

pillar men x reader who has a low iron

pillar men with a harpie s/o

pillarmen reacting to reader thigh riding them

Pillarmen reacting to fem reader catching stuff between their thighs

pillarmen with s/o that’s a nail technician

The pillar men with an s/o who can dance

Pillarmen kinks

[headingalaxys-spicy]

America's Master List

The First of the new Master Lists for 2024! It still needs to have all of the newest works but some of them are on here already! Thanks for reading! There are so many of there crazy things their might be multiple for America XD jebus. But this is for you, like me, Alfred F. Jones simps, who need their content.

America and England with an S/O (Human AU)

Cardverse Senario

Cardverse Scenario: White Queen Taken from a Different Kingdom

Yandere America Cardverse

Yandere Demon America Headcannons

Demon Games: America

Spicy Yandere! Demon America  

Yandere Demon America w/Strong Escapee S/O 

Yandere Demon America with a Priestess S/O 

Yandere Demon America w/ a Yandere S/O 

Demon America w/ S/O that won his Bloody Money Game 

Demon America w/ Jealous S/O  

Demon America w/Stupid S/O that kept his coins  

Demon America w/Stupid S/O that kept his coins pt.2 (Spicy) 

Yandere Demon America w/ S/O who has awful parents  

Yandere Demon America w/ Demon Princess  

Yandere America x Reader (That has traits similar to Francis)  X Yandere France 

Yandere America with a Metal Head Darling with a Guitar

Yandere Mob Boss America 

Yandere Spain, Germany, America, North and South Italy with a wife who just found out that they're a mob boss

Yandere Demon America, England, Russia w/Ghost Reader  

Yandere Demon America w/ Smart human 

Yandere Demon America w/ Yandere Demoness S/O that captures him  

Yandere Demon America w/ Ancient Monster Darling 

Yandere Demon America w/ Angel Darling  

Birthday Drabble Demon America Club 27  

Yandere Demon America w/Dark Witch Darling 

Yandere Demon America: Family life with S/O

Yandere Demon America vs Demon Canada that love the same S/O 

Yandere Demon America & Russia w/ Supernatural Hunter Reader  

Yandere Demon America w/ Witch Darling pt.2  

Yandere Demon America x Right Hand Demon Darling  

Yandere America X Male Reader X Russia Captive  

Yandere Demon America x Dumbass reader 

Yandere Demon America claiming them for the first time after kidnapping  

Yandere Demon America x Dark Witch Darling p.3  

Yandere Demon America vs Demon Russia  

Yandere Demon America with Chaos Lord p.2

Yandere Demon Germany & Russia with a Chaos lord 

(I'm sure you're tired as hell from seeing the word 'Yandere' aren't you? America vs Russia as demons 

Yandere Demon America X Doomguy reader 

Yandere Demon America with a Succubus reader 

Yandere Demon America x Chaos Lord 

Yandere Demon America with an escapee human 

Demon America w/ Pervy Sage like S/O  

Yandere Demon America with a Heathen Goddess darling 

Yandere demon America with a Nephilim Darling 

Yandere Demon America and Japan with an Oni darling 

Demon King America with an experimental dragon darling 

Yandere America with Platonic Yandere Demonness 

Yandere Demon King America X Reader : Someone tries to assassinate you 

Yandere Demon America with a Half Human / Half Demon Darling 

Yandere Demon King America X Reader X Demon King Russia: Right-Hand Woman p.2 

Yandere Demon King America X Reader X Demon King Russia: Right Hand Woman P.3

Demon America with a Fem! S/O and a box of Chocolate

Yandere! Angel America & Germany in Luv with a demon 

America X Reader X Britain p.1  

America x Reader X Britain p.2 

America X Reader X Britain p.3 America Ending 

America x Reader X Britain p.4 England Ending  

Epilogue w/America  

Yandere Alpha 2p! America Headcannons 

Yandere America rejecting his Omega S/O only to realize that he misses them

What dog breeds that the Allies and the Axis are in the Omegaverse

Omega America Headcannons 

Yandere Alpha America and Germany w/ a darling that committed suicide 

Yandere Alpha America with an Alpha Darling 

Yandere Alpha America with an Alpha Darling p.2

Omega America tormenting his darling 

Differences between Yandere Alpha America and Yandere Omega America

The Emperor for Evil America 

The Sun, The Devil, Temperance, & Tower America, France, Romano, Spain, & Russia 

The World and High Priestess with the Allies 

Justice and the Devil 2p America

Club-27 pt. 2

The Longer Series (Or Lore within the stuff I write) I'm trying to work on: The Golden Nightingale, Peacekeepers (Omegaverse) and possibly Mating Season (Demon AU however that's likely to be more headcanons than storytelling)

Golden Nightingale Intro

Chapter 1: Tourmaline Daydream

Chapter 2: The Chaos

Mating Season

Yandere Demon Kings Lands 

Just more ramblings about how the Omegaverse AU is written 

Explanations on how you’re categorized in the Omegaverse 

Omega America on suppressants 

When two Alpha’s fight over an Omega 

How the capturing process works in the Omegaverse 

The successful Omega Rebellion hypothetical

[issa-pheonyx]

Yandere-sub!Krauser X GN!Reader🔪🌶️

𝗦𝗼, 𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗞𝗿𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗶𝗰 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲. 𝗕𝘂𝘁, 𝗜 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗮 𝗱𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗸𝗻𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗻𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁𝗻𝗼𝘁, 𝘁𝗼𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗱. 𝗝𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗱𝗮𝘆/𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁…𝗮𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗲𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗻𝗼𝗻-𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗿𝘆 𝗵𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗱𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲👀💀

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌

-Krauser has been dominating his job role and wanted more than that, but when he realizes that it still didn't satisfy him he grew frustrated. It caused him to lash out on his agents during training and having to have the major Krauser attitude. However, when he was training with you and you literally had that man pinned easily and knife dangerously close to his neck. He was taken aback, but when realization hits his private started to intrude the moment quickly telling you,"That'll be all, (Y/N)." Thankfully, you didn't feel it yet under you when you were straddling his hips...after the training he had to excuse himself to the restrooms to blow off some steam

-It seem like training became brutal for others and worse for Leon since you both were part of the victims of the Raccoon City incident. Near death experiences from those missions he had to do and whilst you-well, they are dangerous regardless, but you manage to finish it much more quickly. Supposedly, behind the scenes someone convinced that you should be held more lightly for a special mission in Spain and for Leon to be very prepared

-Eventually, after finding out about Krauser you were in disbelief as you just see him as major Krauser with respect and loyalty. Krauser on the other hand was much more intimate. "Major Krauser!? Why are you doing this?" He just smirks and answers,"To clean up this insane world of ours and for you to be on the pedestal whilst I pick up the mess after Leon, of course~" You now hold so much venom for him and after each encounter you have with him is rather...different

-He is a man of weaponry alright, but every time you use your gun he manages to dodge it all and is always doing close hits with you. So, you just stick to your knife. The thing is when you even manage to dodge his attacks and you would attempt to strike him he would only move in certain ways. Like he wants to be cut in certain parts of his body. You overthink it that he is secretly enjoying this, yet catch you off guard as he would kick you and throws a flash bang, making you having to find him again to end it

-When you were finding him you seem to catch him in a hidden corner, but quickly move away, so he wouldn't see you. He was sitting down on the dirt leaning against the wall. He was some sort of action with his hand, but it looked like he was hiding it. You try to stay quiet and find another spot where you can get a clear view...my lord he is jerking off. He is trying to suppress his moans as they sounded like whimpers and hissing, his other hand touching the cuts you given him as small leaks of blood goes down his skin. What a sick son of a bitch-

WARNING!! Spicy after this thread [MDNI🔞]

-Whether it is fresh cuts, healing scabs, or scars that is done by YOU it will get him so turned on, because you made those damages. Nobody else couldn't do it cause their lack of parrying and evading his attacks were so stupid and weak. Not you though at least now he will have to work harder and to prove someone-you, that he is more better than anyone else who dare to lay a finger on you

-Even if it isn't a knife he does not mind if it is your nails. Scratching him whether it is his face when he has you pinned on the ground or his back when he pounding you mid fight, grunting and his moans cutting off, because my god you feel amazing and that you're scratching his back, shoulders, and chest. He wants to keep going more faster and harder just to feel the stinging-burning sensation of your nails

-However, if he hasn't managed to get a hold of your insides he would find a way to get you really mad. He wants you to hate him. Hate him physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Psychologically. Just anything. PLEASE!! Krauser wants you to say it. Say that you hate him. Tell him reasons why you hate him while you're cutting his chest, one on his belly, his arm, and small one on his cheek. Give it all to him he wants to feel something

-Put him in a dangerous position like having a knife close to his neck as he is pounding inside you and if he is not making you feel good, threaten him and make the blade get really touchy-almost shifting from how hard and fast he is thrusting into his skin. Or when you're railing him from behind and you cover his mouth with one hand and use the other with the knife dragging down his back, making him cum from the pain and pleasure. He is such a masochistic monster

-Again, the only reason he wants all this is, because he is tired of having to be better than everybody else, but when you came he has something to do. Someone to prove, but to also degrade him, because that'll motivate him to do better. More better than Leon. That's why he became a traitor to show just how powerful he can be for you and that Leon is not worth your presence~

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁. 𝗠𝘆 𝘂𝗽𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗦𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹~🖤🫣