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YUMMY LEON

HIS EMO ERA WAS DEFINITELY ON TOP HE NEEDED A HUG(e slut like me) ANYWAYS I WOULD NOT ACCEPT A BREAKUP LIKE I WILL HELP YOU GET THROUGH IT??? SIR NO.

SHARED MY BODY AND MY MIND WITH YOU

→ Leon broke up with you because of his emotional baggage, not wanting to drag you down into his trauma-induced misery. He didn’t usually date out of his line of work anyway, he hated himself for involving himself with someone so innocent. But when he gets a voicemail at an awfully late hour and listens to it, he nearly broke driving laws to get to your place. He still loves you, that much is certain. Your body and mind are like a second nature to him

CW: MDNI, fem!reader, pwp, one sided breakup, angst, description of leon’s self guilt and sabotage, heavy mentions of marriage, centered around Leon rather than the reader, reconciliation, lovemaking–gentle sex, crying, very small religious snippet, he eats you out, unprotected p in v, implied aftercare + implication of a better future

WC: 5.3k

Note: i think…this is my favorite fic that i’ve ever written. breaking my pink blog theme with this and actually capitalizing letters um…i had to set the tone okay. i actually started working on this in january to cope with some things, but i didn’t make much progress until recently!! the title’s a lyric from the song ‘cruel world’

BOT VERSION HERE MASTERLIST

Leon has a rule: never get emotionally involved with anyone who isn’t in his line of work. The reason behind that is self-explanatory. It's too difficult to accomplish. All his baggage holds him down, and he’s always away for long periods at a time and then returns back with body aches all over and has to hibernate for a while. What does he truly have to offer?

He did it anyway.

You managed to romance him, granting him a fleeting glimpse of happiness and a chance at self-love. Lingering caresses, meaningful eye contact, soulful conversations, an audience to his jokes, the key to your heart — you gave him everything.

Breaking up with you was painful, the second it was all said and done and you were out of his sight, he broke down crying. That was what he deserved, that’s what his mind told him.

It was easy for Leon to disappear from your life, just as quick as the snap of his fingers. He was never around that much to begin with. Your efforts in reaching out to him were futile if he was halfway across the world dealing with another abrupt assignment, or if he fell back into the habit of nursing a drink in some run down bar without contacting a soul.

But no amount of alcohol could make him forget about you these days. The memories of you were too strong to be diluted.

“What about this one?” Curiosity had dripped from your question, your fingers gently feathered across the healed up scar on his left shoulder.

Leon was almost an open book when it came to you, he truly cherished honesty in any relationship, whether romantic or platonic. Guilt weighed on him for having to limit certain answers to only the surface details. It felt wrong; it felt like he was keeping secrets from you and keeping you in the dark. But it couldn’t be helped, not when you weren’t in the same line of work as him. Most of the contents of his work were confidential.

After all, at this point the two of you had only been dating for half a year. How could he burden your mind with the harsh realities of everything that wasn’t known by the general public?

The two of you were naked, tangled under the sheets. No sex or anything, simply getting familiar with each other’s bodies and exploring with gentle and cautious hands.

“1998, shot on duty.”

The memories were still fresh in his mind. People say that forgetting a traumatic event is common, people dissociate to cope and shield their brain. It was the opposite for Leon. All the screams plagued his mind like a damn mantra, no way in hell would he ever be able to forget anyone’s voice.

Either that, or his mind made up fantasies about what could’ve been between you both. Domestic bliss. Buying a house together. Shy talks about how many kids you guys wanted. The memories haunted him. He wanted it back.

He even bought a ring. A beautiful one that he was meant to display to you when he sunk onto one knee and popped the question that would hopefully bind the two of you for life. The one that he was supposed to fidget with whenever he held your hand as the two of you planned your wedding, whether it be simple, grand, or to elope.

He kept it safe even after he broke up with you, he couldn’t bear to throw it away because of the sliver of hope that maybe one day he’d still get the chance of putting it on your finger. He felt like a fool. Sometimes he opened the box up to reminisce. It tugged at his heartstrings when he saw how rough his own fingers were in comparison to the smooth metal, from his years of physical exhaustion and training. God, he wished your hands would never get all battered like his.

He thought about you so much that you were the star actress in his nightly dreams.

The worst ones were the nightmares, though. Like the one that had him turning in his sleep tonight.

It all replayed in his mind. Your facial expression when he broke up with you out of the blue — the way the smile on your face had faded into a frown, your glimmering eyes contorting into that of disheartened ones. The way you looked at him with such a concoction of emotions. The pitiful chuckle that escaped your lips along with a nervously spoken ‘what?’ Or maybe it was the prolonged silence afterwards that killed him. It felt like hours until he got a proper response from you, one that was drowned out by the drumming of his own heart and the pulse that formed in his ears.

Usually he got to the end of it, but tonight he was abruptly woken up by the sound of his phone ringing. A blessing in disguise, maybe. Regardless, he was a bit irritated, he had always been such a light sleeper.

“You’re kidding…” Leon let out a heavy sigh, trying to rub the sleep away from his eyes. He didn’t even want to answer, too tired to even think about the possibility of being called to the field. No way in hell did he want to be met with Hunnigan’s voice and some intel he didn’t feel like remembering.

He let the phone ring, and eventually, blissful silence filled the room again. If it was dire, he knew he’d get another call soon.

Instead, he heard his phone vibrate not long after. He muttered out a curse before reaching for his phone, seeing that a voicemail was left. He didn’t bother reading whose number it was. Christ, the message was 5:06 minutes long.

Whatever. He played it aloud, resting his forearm over his face as he listened in.

“Hey Leon, it’s me…”

Fuck.

He fully sat up on his bed, so quickly it could’ve given him whiplash.

“I miss you. Still think about you every day. I don’t know what I did wrong…you probably aren’t even listening to this. I just…I don’t know.” a sigh. “The clock hit 12 and um, well today’s the anniversary of the day you asked me out. Maybe you don’t remember. I think you do though, you were always good with dates.”

Leon knew the voice of a broken person when he heard it.

No. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to let you go and then you’d see how much life had to offer, how any other person could give you a better and more stable relationship.

How could you be hung up on a man like him?

It was instinctual. He shuffled out of bed, body reacting before his mind and reaching for a clean pair of clothes from his closet. He left the voicemail playing in the background, it filled his lonely house. His heart was racing so loudly he couldn’t even hear the sounds of the wind outside or the creak of the floor with every step. All he did was change and brush his teeth before he drove over to you.

Thankfully, the roads were empty and the highway was free of traffic or else surely he would’ve been pulled over.

Thinking rationally wasn’t necessary when it came to you, not when he just got punched in the gut with a load of nostalgia and gut wrenching heartbreak.

He has always been yours, even during the separation. His heart hammered within his ribcage when he pulled into your driveway, his body moving in a hurry out of his car and towards your door. No hesitation.

Knock, knock, knock.

Ten seconds felt like ten minutes, but eventually the door swung open.

Your pretty face filled the focus of his pupils, his expression softening. You looked like a deer in the headlights, gazing up at him with wide eyes.

Oh, my sweet girl. There she is.

His hands itched to reach for you, to hold you in his arms and spin you around, nuzzling his nose against yours like old times — like some romantic drama. He hadn’t watched one in a while, they reminded him too much of you. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

Leon's hair was messy. It was a sight you had seen many times: his bed hair. Those emotion carrying eyes of his were contrasted with the lifeless bags under them. He came over so damn quickly he hadn’t even taken the time to make himself look composed.

“Leon? What are you…” You couldn’t even finish your thoughts. You felt nothing yet so much at the same time, perhaps from the shock of it all. You brought two fingers to the pulse on your neck to make sure you were awake, and hadn’t somehow fallen asleep after your call and voicemail to him. The thundering pace of your pulse confirmed that you weren’t off in dream land.

“I got your voicemail,” He responded, sounding remorseful. “Had to make sure you were alright. Uh…can I come in?”

You continued staring at him like if he was some sort of supernatural being. If you reached your hand out to touch him, would he disappear? Or perhaps your limb would go straight through him as if he was transparent.

You snapped out of it and nodded. “Yeah, come on in.” Hesitation clouded your tone, not out of wariness but because you had no clue what the hell was going on. You hadn’t seen him in over a year, at least not in person, only through photos and videos you still had saved on your phone from when the two of you were dating (going through them was part of your nightly routine.)

“To be honest…I wasn’t expecting you to even hear my message.”

You stood there awkwardly as he entered, closing the door afterwards. Your apartment still smelled the same, a wave of comfort washed over him despite the circumstances, his eyes darting around at all your belongings. This was once his safe space, like his secret haven.

You sat on your couch, waving him over. Your legs felt like jelly, no way could you be standing for this. He followed, sitting on the couch cushion on the opposite side from you.

“My ringtone woke me up. I thought you were a coworker of mine at first but…I’m glad you weren’t.”

“Glad, really?”

“Yeah.” He gave no further context, at least for that minute.

Silence hung in the air, time became still. Either way, the shared glance between the two of you broke the tension, you were both thinking the same thing. Your minds were linked, seeking reconciliation, every circuit of neurons buzzing with your shared proximity.

He rested his elbows on his knees, running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit. Everything felt surreal, you couldn’t take your eyes off him, afraid he’d disappear.

“I’m…I’m sorry about the way I ended things.” There was a crack in his voice, he was so desperately clinging onto the ideology that he shouldn’t wear all his heart on his sleeve. He failed every time though, his words had wavered.

“I know.” You truly did.

“How?”

“Because I know you, Leon. It hurt, and I found myself wondering why you would just up and leave after what felt like such a meaningful time. But I didn't ever think you did it with mal intent.”

You should be demanding answers, hell, he could even take a few slaps to the face. Maybe his guilt ridden self preferred that to your sweet treatment. Did he even deserve to be met with your understanding? This self-pitying mindset he harbored is what had led to this in the first place.

“You’re right. I didn’t mean to hurt you, that’s the last thing I wanted to do.” Were his efforts in explaining himself getting across? “I thought it was better this way. I'm…broken.”

Trying to convince him that he isn’t ‘broken’ was futile, all you could do was beautify it instead. You scooted closer to him, clasping one of his hands between yours. “All you see are your faults, but I was seeing you entirely, not just for what you do in your job or the images that keep you up at night.”

His hands felt the same. Calloused in areas he couldn’t help like his knuckles and his palms, but well-kept in the nail department. He looked down at the physical contact, putting his other hand atop yours, his thumb grazing tenderly at your skin. Familiar territory.

“It’s hard not to.” He admitted, his eyes feeling glossy all of a sudden. “My job is my life, it drags into every other part of my life.”

“How did it drag into our relationship?”

He truly didn’t know how to answer that. The times he shared with you were the best experiences of his life. He finally got the chance to pull out his cardboard box full of romantic movies to watch with the lover he had been waiting for his whole life, you. Countless nights spent cooking together in your kitchen, full of laughter and playful bickering, and some harmless food fights. Grocery shopping together with laced fingers, just a sneak peek into domesticity. God, he yearned for its return.

“I don’t know. I constantly had to leave and got no vacation time either. Let’s see…I had to keep a lot of information confidential. It kinda screams ‘this’ll all make a girl run the other way.’”

How wrong he was, he ended up leaving before he could get abandoned, as if that would’ve happened, though, you never wanted him out of your life.

“That wasn’t true for me, Leon. I wanted to be with you. I just hope I wasn’t a burden on you.”

That hurt. A dull ache spread across his chest. He pulled you close, tucking you against his side.

“Don’t say that,” His instruction was soft spoken, his lips brushed against your cheek. You were never a burden, he always shut you out, thinking that his heart was full of thorns and you’d prick yourself if he let you get too close. That, perhaps his sorrow was contagious and his poison would flood your veins.

Words of comfort weren’t his strong suit, but he tried his best. He had to. “You weren’t a burden. Never were, and never will be, okay?”

It felt so good to have you against him, his gaze was set on you, searching for any indicator that you were uncomfortable. You leaned your shoulder against his shoulder though, nuzzling against him. Pensive silence followed.

Even with the somber undertones filling your apartment, your heart was bursting. He was here, back with you. Holding you like he used to do after you had a particularly stressful day at work, or when you had an argument with one of your close ones.

The long separation made familiar carnal desires spark to life, along with the itch to bring them to fruition.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You murmured to him, but your wavering voice caught his instant attention.

You were on the verge of tears, oh dear. If you started sobbing, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hold back from crying either.

Leon didn’t waste a second, pulling you onto his lap, one of his hands stroking the back of your head, his other arm wrapping around your back.

“What are you thinking about?” He needed to know. You had always been the most verbal, whereas his feelings usually showed on his face or body language.

“About how much I missed you.” You respond, running your hands up and down his arms, squeezing at his muscles. “And how unreal this feels. And…” Your eyes flicker down to his lips. “I wanna kiss you, Leon…and y’know.” Make love. “Like old times.”

Oh.

“Are you sure?” Leon hadn’t intended for the night to play out this way. He needed to make sure you were actually thinking straight with the pool of emotions you seemed to be drowning in. To be fair, he was drowning too.

It was midnight, your bodies burned for one another.

“I am.” You uttered those words with such finality, eyes set on him.

This wasn’t some impromptu longing for his physical connection, you had been craving it for as long as the two of you had been separated. To feel him in the purest and most tender way possible, nestled against one another and eliciting feelings no one else could.

The pads of his thumbs rub circles against the fat of your hips. He's looking up at you, his eyes are unable to hide a flicker of yearning and affection. Expressive, his pupils dilated and his eyebrows slightly raised. He blinked slowly, like a cat showing utmost trust to its owner.

He looks at you like he worships you (he does.) Get him on his hands and knees, he’ll mumble your name like you’re his god and he’s praying to you, all his sins out in the open and his scarred body for you to look over and judge. He’ll be vulnerable with you if that means you’ll forgive his wrongdoings and give him a second chance. You must be a merciful god, no doubt about it.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You murmured, cupping his face. His gaze was hypnotic, sending a wave of security down your body. It almost felt as if you traveled to the time before he shattered your heart into pieces of glass.

“Like what?” He couldn’t help it. Not like he had a mirror, anyway. His face was usually tense, brows permanently furrowed and eyes narrowed from being attentive all the fucking time, his lips a straight line, jaw anything but relaxed.

Not right now, though. Never with you. Everything in his body softened and loosened up around you. Well, with the exception of his dick but that was another matter.

“You know what I mean. Like…like you still love me.”

Leon didn’t know what to say. The words died in his throat while every fiber of his being wanted to say ‘I do.’ The same words he could’ve voiced out standing across the altar from you. His brain short-circuited.

His pause came across as ambiguous to you, to mask the pain, you kissed him. Like a chocolate on a hot summer day, he melted in an instant, turning to mush, holding one side of your jaw and matching your pace.

The two of you mingled like two puzzle pieces. Your chest was flush against his, one of your hands finding his hair and pulling on it, earning a drawn out groan from him. It went slow for the first five minutes, some occasional pull backs for breath, shy smiles in betweens, before going back in like the act of kissing was needed for your pulses to continue, your hearts beating as one.

“Mmph.” Your whimper made him shudder, oh how he had missed that noise. His other hand got a bit more confident, resting on the small of your back, moving up towards your ribs then back down, almost resting on your ass.

He felt a surge of heat settle in his groin, aching to give you all the pleasure you deserved, to make you feel cherished and known. To knock any misery out of your head and replace it with euphoric sparks and reassurance. To be one with you again, if you’d have him.

He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes fluttering open. “Bedroom?”

A nod from you was all it took. He didn’t let you get up, instead holding your ass as he stood up, his lips back on yours as he carried you to your bedroom like he owned the place. His mind still had the spatial layout, it worked out and he eventually placed you onto the middle of the bed oh so delicately.

You knew what was coming, already taking your clothes off in a haste as you heard his belt come undone, the sound of his taking his shirt off, and his boots being kicked off.

It wasn’t long until he was on you again.

Leon took his time to look at your body. He was all too familiar with it, knowing exactly where certain beauty marks were, or the places that were sensitive to even the slightest fan of his breath. His fingertips ghosted over your sides, sucking in a sharp inhale as his eyes roamed all over, studying you as if you were his muse and he was about to draw you. “So beautiful…”

His lips had traveled all across you once upon a time. Leon had a great memory, perhaps one of his best features, though also his downfall. At times like these, it comes in handy. It almost seemed like a hazy flashback to the nights he had you splayed on the bed, pressing his lips against your forehead and making it all the way to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He wanted to mimic the memory. “Need to taste you. Can I?”

“God, yes.” You agreed in a heartbeat, body already feeling all tingly at the anticipation.

He littered open mouthed kisses from the middle of your chest, all the way down to your end of your stomach, making your body ignite with flames and mind flood with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. What day was it? Month? Year? You couldn’t remember, just desperately hoping this wasn’t some realistic feeling dream. You’ve had those too often, and if you woke up without him by your side, you felt like you would die from heartbreak.

He hooked his arms underneath your thighs to pull you close. His fingers dug into your thighs as he took another look at his favorite pretty cunt. He missed this. Missed you. Missed having you grind yourself against his face until he couldn’t breathe. Missed having his heart race from the angelic noises you blessed his ears with.

His nose pressed against your clit, applying light pressure as his tongue lapped at your slit, gathering the dew there. Geez, he really got right into it. Your eyes rolled back, your stomach tensing and your back arching. You could die right now by your (ex) lover’s tongue, what a way to go.

On the occasion that he opened his eyes, he’d look up at you through his light lashes — he swore you looked like an angel from his perspective.

“What is this? Your last meal on death row?” You were joking, but god…he really was making your mind go blank, he knew just all the right buttons to press.

“Oh, so you think I’m a criminal?”

Like always, you reached for his hair, pushing it back and hearing him growl out of contentment. He gave your clit gentle sucks before flattening his tongue against it and flicking it, his head moving side to side, repeating the process again and again.

One thing about Leon? He always found a way to turn you on by being vocal. His noises were muffled and sloppy but you could feel the vibration of all his whimpers and growls against you as he took his time eating you out. He was getting off to pleasuring you, and that fact alone made it so much hotter.

Your thighs were trembling, threatening to close in and squeeze his head. Leon placed one of his hands over your lower abdomen, applying light pressure with his palm and coaxing you into your orgasm.

It didn’t take you long to get there, you hadn’t felt a tongue on you in ages, he was your last.

“Leon, I’m—“

He already knew.

“That’s it, make a mess all over my face.” It sounded like a demand but instead it came across as a pitiful and desperate plea.

How many times had he been in this position? Lying on his stomach, your taste on his tongue, chin dripping with his drool and your wetness, feeling your body trembling…he couldn’t even count how many. But it was enough for him to know your body like no other.

He kept going even after your thighs started squeezing in on him, even with the way you unintentionally tugged at his hair enough to have him rutting against your sheets. He made sure to make your orgasm feel good, lapping at you all throughout until he heard a whine leave your lips and he felt you weakly push his head away — he didn’t want to overstimulate you and hurt you.

He finally took a breath, one that filled his lungs with satisfaction as he propped himself up on his elbows before sitting up. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling his blood pump south with the way you were still composing yourself, your legs twitching all cutely and your torso rising and sinking with each deep breath you attempted to take.

“Do you wanna…” Your eyes flitted down to the prominent tent in his pants, feeling a stirring in your stomach already.

“Do you?”

“Yeah. I mean…only if you want to.”

With his belt already in some corner of the room and his fly down, all that was left was discarding his pants and boxers down. He fished his wallet out and pulled a packet from it before doing so.

You were too distracted eyeing his now exposed dick, gulping. It had been a while. But a certain wrapper noise caught your attention. A condom. You had always been careful with him in the past, but you wanted him inside him without any barriers. To feel him entirely, his skin against your insides.

“Don’t, please?”

“But–“

“I need to feel you, Leon.”

“Already being a bad influence on me? What am I gonna do with you?” His jest was met with your roll of eyes, but the corners of your eyes crinkled, happy he was already comfortable enough to bicker a bit.

He pet your head, gazing fondly at you as he awaited your response.

“I just want to feel you as close as possible. I don't know how to explain it. You can pull out at the end…I dunno.”

You didn’t need to explain further, because he felt the same. He kissed your forehead, whispering “okay.”

Getting in between you and in position for missionary, he continued peppering kisses all over your face. He couldn’t hold back, he had so much to make up for, he owed you at least a thousand more. He pushed into you, a breathy moan leaving his lips, it felt like he had just entered the pearly gates. And the way your jaw hung open in a silent gasp told him you felt the same.

“You alright?”

“Mhm, keep going.”

“God, I missed you…” His thrusts made the bed creak, adding to the assortment of sounds of two bodies joined as one: skin against skin, high pitched gasps and occasional throaty groans, nails scratching against Leon’s back and leaving red marks in their wake, a subtle noise, but there nonetheless.

“Yeah? How much?”

“Too much. Could never get you outta my mind.” He admitted, burying his head against your neck to leave open-mouthed kisses all over, smiling when he felt you squirming. “Dreamt about you every night. Every…every morning I woke up, I thought you’d still be by my side.”

His response knocked the breath out of you, God if you could have him closer than physically possible, you would. This was the closest you’d be though, his tip hitting your g-spot, his body flush against yours, it was just the two of you in this never ending universe.

“Leon…Leon…fuck.” You called for him like you needed him to prevent you from crumbling.

He pinned one of your hands to the side of your head and laced his fingers between yours, his head remaining against your other side, raspy grunts and incoherent praises rumbling against your ear. He gently bit your earlobe, tugging at it and sending a shiver down your spine.

Despite all his self doubts, Leon knew how to love, how to send another person to cloud nine and make their head fuzzy with sheer euphoria. He wasn’t fucking you, he was loving you, there’s a clear difference.

His lips trailed to your jawline, eventually reaching your lips and initiating an uncoordinated make out session, the sound of dazed out whimpers and quiet growls mixing together perfectly.

He was getting there, his pace more erratic than before, his hand squeezing yours tightly. “You’re so pretty.” He mumbled against your lips, speaking in between rushed pecks. “Prettiest girl in the world.”

You managed to smile at that. “Yeah? Well you’re the prettiest boy in the world.”

You could’ve said handsome. Or hot. Or cute. But Leon was pretty, that was always the first thing that came to your mind. He was like a model, surely some agency would have tried to recruit him if he were actually in broad daylight more.

“Mm.” He liked the compliment. No more words were exchanged after that, he was focused on feeling you. Feeling the way you took all of him like it was nothing, clearly the two of you were physically made for one another.

There was no going back from this, Leon couldn’t bear the thought of getting a taste of happiness yet again and then falling back into a hopeless pit. He wouldn’t push you away again.

You were already sensitive from the way he had made you cum on his face earlier. You pulled away from his kisses, your head thrashing side to side against the pillow instead, your hips desperately bucking to meet his.

“Leon…”

“Just let go for me, you can do it.”

Moans ripped from your throat, your nails leaving crescent indents on his skin as your body writhed underneath him. Leon couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you came, his own stomach feeling tighter and tighter until he followed suit.

“I love you.” He let it slip at the very end, his mind too dazed and his emotions for you running at full blast. You would’ve replied if not for the way you were in awe, watching the way his eyebrows furrowed, his head tilted back, his mouth let out the raspiest grunts as he pulled out and came. Fuck, he couldn’t be real.

It was only then that Leon’s head cleared. He felt his heart sink to his stomach, had he said something wrong? The moment died down, he felt uncertain about how you’d react. Regardless, Leon took a moment to admire you in your flushed state before leaning down to kiss your head, then lying down beside you and pulling you to his side.

You were all dazed with his confession lingering in your head.

He still loved you. Maybe it was obvious, but hearing it aloud was a completely different feeling.

All the suppressed emotions between the two of you were being put on the spotlight. Your eyes brimmed with unshed tears, you tried to blink them away, but you failed.

Leon wished your eyes hadn’t gotten glossy and that your lips hadn’t tugged into a small frown. It made his heart physically ache. Heavy hearted, that’s what he felt like, swallowing to try to alleviate just how sore his throat felt all of a sudden. Guilt bubbled in his stomach because he knew he was the source of your tears.

He kissed away your tears, welcoming the salty taste of them.

He couldn’t tell you not to cry, he wasn’t in the position to. All he could do was reassure you instead, curling his hand into a fist before rubbing soothing circles onto your back as he watched you curl against him.

“Hey…”

“Sorry. I didn't mean to start crying. I just…you still love me? Did you mean that?”

“It’s okay. Just let it out, I'm here for you.” He had your head tucked underneath his chin. “And yeah…I never stopped.”

“I love you too.”

He wasn’t leaving this time.

Maybe that ring he held onto would find its true owner soon.

You, his sweet girl.

AFOIWEKDFOSKADFOSDPKFODSK THIS HAD BUTTERFLIES ASCENDING IN MY STOMACH EASILY 100000/10 YUM???

IM GOING TO RANT BC IM GOING TO START DOING THAT FOR EVERY FANFIC I ADORE !!!

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT (if u havent go read it now... grr)

MY FAVORITE LINES THAT I WANNA ELABORATE ON:

“No one’s making me do anything,” you insisted, approaching the dumpster. The bag’s orange straps were starting to dig into your fingers uncomfortably. “I just feel bad for the night staff — they already—“ “—Do so much?” You finish in unison. You both look down at your feet in embarrassment. 

OIGMMGMG??? HES SO THOUGHTFUL AND YKW GREAT MINDS THINK ALIKE (personally i am not that sweet) BUT LEONS SUCH A CUTIE PIE AND WE'RE BOTH SO AWKWARD HEHEHEHEHEH

It made you blush the first time you realized it was reserved for you.  “I just feel bad because you never have anywhere to sit,” he’d flushed. “At least now there’s always a seat.” 

OK YES I WANNA SIT ON YOUR TABLE?? YES I WANNA SIT THERE AND LOOK PRETTY WHILE U FILE UR REPORTS AWAY?? HES SO THOUGHTFUL DREAM MAN !!

It clatters to the ground unceremoniously, and in his surprise, Leon topples over, too.  You whirl around to find him on sprawled out on the floor, receiver still in hand.  “Oh my god, Leon,” you cry, setting your cup of water on top of the cooler before rushing to his side. “Are you okay?”  “F-fine,” he winces, cheeks stained a brilliant scarlet. “I just—you look—the phone—“

HES SO SILLAY AND GOOFY LMAO HE MAKES ME GIGGLY (ur writing makes me blush like i swear i can feel myself in this) HES SO CLUMSY BUT ITS OK I LIKE AUTISTIC MEN

“You never look messy and gross,” he chuckles. “You’re always pretty. I always tell you you look pretty.”  “You weren’t just being nice,” you ask with an arched brow. You prop your chin on your fist, and give him a sly smirk. He finally meets your gaze, and the opalescence of his eyes nearly takes your breath away. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.” 

AS AWKWARD AS HE IS UR WRITING IS MAKING ME ASCEND LIKE OHHHH MY GOSHHHHH UR NOT GENERIC OR ANYTHING THIS IS REAL ART I SWEAR.

You both look down at your feet again, too nervous to continue. You break the silence this time, “A crush, though? Are we in third grade?”  “Yes, and if you aren’t careful, you’ll catch my cooties,” he beams.  “Christ, Leon,” you cover your face with your hands. “You need to kiss someone to catch cooties.”

HES SO CUTE LIKE SIR WE ARE GROWN MEN AND WOMEN HERE >:( BUT HES STILL A BABY... ILL TAKE CARE OF HIM YESSIR !!

“… Fine,” you smirk. “I’ll go out with you. But we have to keep you away from spinning chairs. Can’t have you hurting yourself again.” “What can I say, sweetheart,” he coos, leaning back in his chair, “I’ve fallen for you.” 

how does your writing just flow together like this its so gosh darn smooth like im in love <3 also you make his autistic ahh get some rizz like ok ma'am i see u

ANYWAYS THATS THE END OF MY RANT LOVED THIS ONE FR WILL REREAD 10000000 TIMES :)))) LOVE YOUUUUU <33333

Falling for You

RE2R Leon Kennedy x f!reader

Summary: In celebration of your new promotion, you decide to try on a new look. Leon doesn't quite know how to cope.

Tags: fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, friends to lovers, bad flirting, banter, no use of y/n, not proofread, RE2R Leon Kennedy

WC: 2,048

A/N: Inspired by a comment by u/umeyard on this Reddit thread. It's a treasure trove of fluff prompts. I wrote this so quickly; I'm so sorry if it makes NO sense, hahaha. As always, divider by @/strangergraphics.

Working for the Raccoon City Police Department isn’t glamorous —far from it. 

It’s filthy even on quiet days, gritty and dusty despite the janitorial team’s best efforts to keep its marble floors sparkling. They can’t help the gruffness of police work, or the grime of the cityscape. And after years of trying, they resigned themselves to the fact that they would always be buffing blackened scuff off corners and coffee stains out of tabletops. 

You try your best to clean up after yourself. Leon does, too, and the effort doesn’t go unnoticed. Donuts, new mugs, and little hand-written notes can often be found littering your respective desks at least once a week. You and Leon make sure to return the favor by staying late to tidy your coworkers’ spaces. It’s how you’d gotten so close; it’s how you’d gotten so comfortable with one another. 

It started the night you found him emptying the contents of the West Office’s shared trashcans in the dumpster out back. You’d been carrying the East Office’s bags in one hand, and your beaten black messenger bag in the other. 

“Just as bad on the West side, huh?” You’d laughed. 

“Worse,” he’d clarified. “You only have one bag. I had three.” 

“This is my second trip, actually.” 

“So how many total?” 

“Four.” 

He’d frowned. “So they’re worse over there?” 

“Substantially.” 

“And they make you do it all yourself?” 

“No one’s making me do anything,” you insisted, approaching the dumpster. The bag’s orange straps were starting to dig into your fingers uncomfortably. “I just feel bad for the night staff — they already—“

“—Do so much?” You finish in unison. You both look down at your feet in embarrassment. 

“Here,” he says, and takes the bag from you without prompt. 

“Thanks,” you mutter. “I should… I should finish up and go home.” 

He nods, and gives you a tight smile. You give him a small, bashful wave, and turn on your heel to return to your post. Your shoes click thrice before Leon speaks up again.

“Need any help with the East then?” 

You didn’t, but you spun around and nodded enthusiastically all the same. 

That night was, astonishingly, the most fun you’d had at work since you were hired. Turns out the Rookie simply can’t help himself from singing along to anything with a beat. He was off-key most of the time but he sang with such conviction that you couldn’t help but join. You’d both stayed far longer than intended; the office gleamed by the time you were done. 

“Do you think the West needs similar treatment?” You’d asked as you both stood in the doorway, personal bags in hand, admiring your work. 

“Most definitely.” 

"Tomorrow night then?"

"And the night after, probably."

Now Leon stops by your desk every day to tell you you look pretty, and stays late every night to clean a different part of the department with you. Had it been anyone else, you would've filed an HR complaint, but Leon’s intentions were innocent. They were sweet and transparent and you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t add a little pep to your afternoon slump. You’d visit his desk, too, and frequently found yourself impressed by how orderly it all was. There was also always a space cleared on the tabletop.

It made you blush the first time you realized it was reserved for you. 

“I just feel bad because you never have anywhere to sit,” he’d flushed. “At least now there’s always a seat.” 

And what made matters worse — or better, depending on how you looked at it (because you decidedly do not have a crush on the Rookie, absolutely not) — was that you never, ever came to work looking particularly special. You defaulted to trousers, loose blouses, and otherwise nondescript clothing because, well, it’s a desk job at a gross police station. And not a particularly exciting one at that. You didn’t see the need to dress in any other manner. 

Except for today. Today is different. Today, you’re getting a promotion, and the confidence inspired by this long-awaited recognition pushed you to try a little harder: you don a pencil skirt, you wear heels, you spritz vanilla cashmere perfume on your pulse point. You feel good, you look even better. 

The meeting you have to attend with your superior is located upstairs in the S.T.A.R.S. office. It concludes early, and with a strong, affirmative handshake. You make a note to yourself to thank Leon for helping you practice your handshake a few months ago.

“C’mon,” he’d said, “you can do better than that.” 

“I can’t, Rookie. I don’t spend hours in the gym like you do,” you’d parried with a squeeze to his bicep.

The comment had been innocuous, but came off ridiculously flirtatious. So flirtatious that he’d blushed furiously and could only stutter out a meek “t-thank you” in response. It inadvertently inspired a sense of confidence in him, though. He insisted you keep practicing until you got it just right. You obliged, of course, but for the sake of improvement. No other reason. Especially not because you loved the feel of his hands in yours, or because your heart fluttered when he’d compared the size of your hands.

You shake your head to dismiss the thought as you walk downstairs, heat rising to your cheeks. Given that thanks are in order, you decide to take a detour through the West Office. You’d kept the promotion under wraps because you didn’t want to jinx anything. They’d pulled the chair out from under you before; you didn’t want it to happen again. 

And it didn’t, thank God. Not to you. 

Leon’s on the phone when you arrive. He’s scribbling furiously on a yellow notepad, a series of disinterested, mhm’s and uh-huh’s leaving his parted lips every so often. You saunter up to him, a giddy smile plastered across your face. He looks up when he hears you approaching, and gives you a solitary nod in greeting before returning to his paperwork. His brain is elsewhere, clearly, so it takes him a second to register your change in appearance. And when he finally does, his head snaps back up with preposterous speed. 

You give him a little wave, graze his shoulder with a gentle hand, and walk past him toward the water cooler. Your mouth suddenly feels quite dry and he’s clearly too preoccupied to speak. Might as well give him a moment to wrap it up before commandeering a good chunk of his time. 

He tracks your movements like a man entranced, spinning and leaning back in his chair in a manner so orbital, so bewitched, he doesn’t notice that he’s pulled the telephone chord to its limit. It clatters to the ground unceremoniously, and in his surprise, Leon topples over, too. 

You whirl around to find him on sprawled out on the floor, receiver still in hand. 

“Oh my god, Leon,” you cry, setting your cup of water on top of the cooler before rushing to his side. “Are you okay?” 

“F-fine,” he winces, cheeks stained a brilliant scarlet. “I just—you look—the phone—“ 

“That sounded like it hurt. Is your wrist okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m—it didn’t hurt,” he stammers, avoiding eye contact with you at all costs. You take the hand that had cushioned his fall in yours. He flinches when you flex it.

“Let’s get you to the break room,” you frown. “It needs ice.” 

He follows you wordlessly to the East Wing, wrist clutched tightly to his chest. You try to talk to him, try to ask about his day, but his answers are clipped. You bite your lip in disappointment, wondering if you’d done or said something to upset him. 

“Sit,” you instruct, gesturing to the crappy foldout chairs lining the wooden table. You retrieve a blue ice pack from the freezer, wrap it in a paper towel, and hand it to him. 

“Thanks,” he mutters. “Sorry for… all of this.” 

You shake your head in dismissal, “You’d do the same for me. Are you sure you’re—“

“—I’m fine.” 

You purse your lips. “Leon, did I offend you in some way?” 

“What,” he asks, blue eyes widening in shock. “What? No. Why would you think that?” 

“You just… didn’t… look or speak to me the whole walk over. And you’re hardly looking at me now,“ you say, leaning forward in your chair to catch his eye. 

His blushes once more, and lets out a nervous chuckle. “I mean, can you blame me? I just humiliated myself in front of the girl I’ve had a crush on since my first day.” 

He blanches when he realizes what he’s said. You freeze, too, molten heat rising to your cheeks. 

“I… can’t believe I just said that out loud,” he sighs. 

“I can’t believe you did, either.” 

You’re both quiet for a second, the low hum of the fridge filling the air with sterile white noise. An officer walks in; you both give him tight smiles, and exchange pleasantries with him until he leaves. 

Leon clears his throat before he speaks. “You look… beautiful, by the way. It’s a… a g-good look on you.” 

“Don’t get too used to it,” you smile, reaching to readjust his ice pack. He takes in a breath as your fingertips skim his wrist. 

“I wouldn’t want to anyway.” 

You look up at him through your lashes. You’ve never seen anyone turn so red. A small giggle escapes your throat. “Why’s that?” 

He shrugs, “I like how you always look.” 

“What? Messy and gross?” 

“You never look messy and gross,” he chuckles. “You’re always pretty. I always tell you you look pretty.” 

“You weren’t just being nice,” you ask with an arched brow. You prop your chin on your fist, and give him a sly smirk.

He finally meets your gaze, and the opalescence of his eyes nearly takes your breath away. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.” 

“So when you said you had a crush on me—“ 

He tosses his head back in laughter, “Yeah, I was… I was being honest. I’ve, uh… I’ve had a crush on you since my first day here.” 

You drop your fist and cock your head. “But we didn’t meet until a month after that?” 

Leon narrows his eyes, a playful smile tugging on his lips, “So you were keeping track?” 

Your turn to flush. You wave your hands in front of you, palms facing him, in desperation. “N-no, I wasn’t keeping track, per se, I j-just—I was in charge of—I helped decorate—“ 

“I’m just messing with you, sweetheart,” he says, voice uncharacteristically silken. “But yeah, I saw you in the library. You were looking for some book or another; Marvin held the ladder for you while you grabbed it off the shelf.” 

“Why didn’t you say ‘hi’?”

Leon shrugs, “You just… really don’t get how fucking pretty you are. It’s intimidating. And I’m not sure if it’s become apparent yet, but I’m not exactly the smoothest operator in this department.”

You can’t help but giggle at that, “No, I guess you aren’t.” 

You both look down at your feet again, too nervous to continue. You break the silence this time, “A crush, though? Are we in third grade?” 

“Yes, and if you aren’t careful, you’ll catch my cooties,” he beams. 

“Christ, Leon,” you cover your face with your hands. “You need to kiss someone to catch cooties.”

He peels one of your hands away from your face. Your heartbeat quickens when you make eye contact with him — he’s so close all of a sudden. 

“Believe me, I’d like to do nothing more.” 

Your jaw drops. “You’re awfully forward all of a sudden, Leon Kennedy. Haven’t you been harboring this crush for a long time?” 

“Is that a no?” 

“It’s—I’m—you,” you start and stop. You take a breath, and relax into your chair, legs crossed. “It’s not.. it’s not a no.”

“So you’ll go out with me then?” 

You knit your brows incredulously. “That’s not what you asked.”

“But will you?” 

“… Fine,” you smirk. “I’ll go out with you. But we have to keep you away from spinning chairs. Can’t have you hurting yourself again.”

“What can I say, sweetheart,” he coos, leaning back in his chair, “I’ve fallen for you.” 

no real shit though i finally read it after seeing everyone gush abt it and oh my jelly beans

it was beautiful to the point where i didnt even know if i was existing on the same plane in this realm or if i was desending into madness cause tell me why this random fic is better than actually published literature

now i owe my life to @inkonparchment and @vaaaaaiolet and also @idyllcy (possible future friend) 🙏🙏🙏 preach queens

reading "moth to a flame" and it changing you as a person at a level so intimate is a canon event

he's such a golden retriever AHGSHSGAHGAHAHAHHA im dying istg rookie leon, he'll be the end of me

just you and me, alone in the dark

note : divider is from @/thecutestgrotto. ermmm idrk. Leon is ooc again I know, I’m trying to write a few Leon summer fics over the next few weeks, if you have any ideas please let me know I only have like two more 😔 mdni

wc : 3.8k

tags : @lottiies

desc : Leon’s back in town, that couldn’t be too hard on the gigantic crush you have on your best friend, right? friends to lovers, smut!! - unprotected p in v, little bit of fingering. not proofread, fem!reader, post re2r!Leon

Leon was back home for one week this summer, he’s been a cop in Raccoon City for almost a year now, the two of you have been calling and writing each other, trying to keep up with each others lives, but it’s nothing like being face-to-face again. You’ve been hosting him at your house for the past few days, Leon’s been going to catch up with a few other friends, but he’s always back at your place by at least midnight.

It wasn’t like when you were kids. Some of your friends had moved away, that arcade a mile or two away that you and Leon would always walk to had closed down and was now a fancy restaurant, the old lady who ran the laundromat and would give the two of you quarters for the arcade games had passed away. But your crush on Leon had stayed, maybe even grew a bit. The two of you had been changing bit by bit, too. Leon was a big city cop now, and compared to him, you felt like the friend who went to college and immediately ran back home.

Leon’s always been handsome to you, but since leaving for the academy and becoming an actual cop, he looks more grown-up. Seeing him in the mornings, his hair all messy and still half-asleep, was proving to be a problem. Along with when the two of you would watch movies at night, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, sharing whatever food you were eating like you did when you were kids.

You’re starting to think that Leon might like you back.

You catch the way his eyes follow you when you walk through the house with wet hair, damp skin, and clothes that cling to your skin just a bit more after you get out of the shower. Or how he scoots closer to you when you both sit down together. Especially when he accidentally hugged you goodnight the second night he was over and pulled away with a red face. Not that you really mind being close to him, or his attraction to you.

Anyway, Leon’s leaving in two days, and the two of you are going camping for the night.

It’s not gonna be anything crazy, the two of you weren’t much for setting up tents and rocky roads riddled with pot-holes and roadkill. You’re staying the night at a smaller campground, there’s a lake, a playground for any kids there, and a camp store. There’s no need to bring a tent unless you’ve got more than three people with you. Each campsite comes with a small shelter that can hold a few people, each shelter has three walls and a roof, the opening faces the site.

Leon and you would come here with your family when you were kids, it was only an hour away from where you lived, the two of you wanted something a bit more fun to do than sit around at your house or go to dinner.

Leon hasn’t gone camping since before he left for the police academy, not that what the two of you are doing is anything difficult. But there’s no hotdogs cooked over the fire, just a pizza you had picked up a few hours ago and s’mores.

There’s chocolate around Leon’s lips as he chews on his s’more, yours goes ignored for a few minutes as you stare at him. The fire in front of you is low, you and Leon face it and lean back against the table part of the wooden bench, your knees knocking together.

“I know I got shit on my face.” He says to you, turning to look at you as he licks the marshmallow off of his fingers.

You smile at him and shake your head softly, taking a small bite of your s’more. “I’m just looking at you.” Leon only giggles, wiping his mouth with his palm.

“You’ve had plenty of time to look at me.”

“I know that, doesn’t mean I have to stop. And besides, you look at me all the time.”

“Yeah, that’s because I’m talking to you, you just stare at me sometimes.”

“Because I missed you terribly, and I’m happy to have you back home.” You joke a little bit, finishing off the dessert in your hand. “I’m still gonna miss you when you go back to the city.”

“Well, maybe you wouldn’t miss me so much if you came to visit every once-in-a-while. You know it wouldn’t kill you to drive three hours to see me. You’d like the city, anyway.” Leon scooted even closer to you and nudged your shoulder with his, still keeping his eyes on you.

“I know, I know. Just goddamn, I don’t get why you couldn’t have been a local sheriff or deputy or some shit. You could give me parking tickets everyday.” You laugh, his smile drops a little.

“Raccoon City is as good as it gets for me, I could give you parking tickets everyday of the year if you lived there.”

You drop a hand to his knee, squeezing it gently and leaning in closer to him. “Hey, I wasn’t trying to be mean. I know the city’s a big deal for you, and I’m really, really happy for you. You worked really hard.”

“You flatter me,” Leon’s smile brightened a bit again, your heart fluttered. “You haven’t seen me in action yet.”

“Yeah? And what exactly is ‘action’ for you? Helping old ladies cross the street? Maybe pulling someone over for speeding?” You chuckle, letting go of his knee and pushing against him.

“God, when did you get so mean?” Leon snickered and rolled his eyes, grabbing your bicep and pushing you away from him.

“Oh, come on, I’m supposed to be mean to you, that’s what best friends do. You’ve never complained before.”

“Yeah, you complain constantly when I do it.”

“Because boys aren’t supposed to be mean to girls. That’s the rule, aren’t you supposed to know all the rules, officer?”

“Don’t call me that!” Leon laughs, pushing you further away. “Listen, just- just come over. I just wanna see you, even if it’s for a couple of hours. I miss you a lot.”

You can feel your heart clench a little at his words. You know he means it, he’s always tried to come over and visit when he was able to, even when he was in the academy. You just didn’t want to be a bother to him, he’s living his dream, and you don’t want to get in the way of it.

“I’ll try, I promise. Maybe I can come over for a weekend in September.”

“Good, I’ll hold you to it. I was starting to think you didn’t like me anymore.” He jested, turning his gaze to the fire that was almost completely gone now.

“Jesus, don’t say that. I’ll always like you.”

That caught him off guard a little bit, you watched as his cheeks turned red and how his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed.

“That- that’s good.”

You smile at him, scooting closer once again and bringing your hand to rest on his shoulder to shake him gently. “Don’t forget it.” There’s a pause. Leon looks back up to you from the fire, his eyes bore into yours for a few long seconds before they trail down to your lips. It doesn’t go unnoticed. “Let’s go to the lake, it’s fun to swim when it’s getting dark.”

—

Leon had raced you back to your campsite three hours later and won. It was dark now, nearing eleven p.m., the fire was now completely out and all the other campers were asleep. The campground is illuminated by streetlights placed sparingly along the road, you can hardly see anything on your site besides your car and the outside of your shelter.

The lake had been fun, it was different from when you’d come here together a decade ago and push each other off the dock and into the water, but it was fun in a new kind of way. Luckily, there weren’t many people there due to the late hour, not that either of you would’ve really stopped even if it had been packed. Yours and Leon’s swimsuits cling to your skin, you probably would’ve run the race, but once he got in front of you you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the way his back muscles looked when they were wet.

“Fuck, I didn’t set up my air mattress.” You chuckle as you follow Leon into your campsites shelter, shuffling your bare feet along the ground to try to keep yourself from tripping.

“Well, hurry up then.” He giggles but waves you off, his back turned to you as he runs his towel over his wet hair once again. You scoff at him half-heartedly, turning away and going to get your air mattress out of the trunk of your car.

You discover that Leon’s air mattress is bigger than yours once you finally pull it back into the shelter and lay it down next to his. The air-pump is already attached to the nozzle, Leon sits at the bench and watches as you try to inflate the mattress.

“This isn’t working,” You groan, rising up from your squatting position and letting go of the air-pump to shake your arms free of the strain. Leon just shrugs at you, you roll your eyes and squat down again, patting down the air mattress, looking for rips, and you find one that you can fit your entire fist inside. You groan again, more loudly this time. “My mattress is trashed, I don’t have tape or any patches that’ll fix this.”

Leon rises from his seat at the bench, stepping into the shelter along side you and looking down at your air mattress. “You can share with me.”

“Really? You sure?”

“Yeah, of course. I don’t mind, it’s probably gonna be a bit colder tonight, anyway.” Leon offers you a small smirk, offering a hand to you to help you stand up.

“Thanks,” You say as you take his hand, he pulls you to your feet, holding onto your hand for a second before he pulls away. The two of you put your hands on your hips at the same time, glancing around the site. “I gotta get changed.”

“Alright,”

“I don’t wanna walk all the way to the bathroom, though.” You sigh, Leon chuckles and looks towards you.

“You gonna change here?”

“Yeah,” You don’t miss how his face drops slightly, the color returning to his cheeks. “Can you hold the flashlight for me?”

“Wh-“ He cuts himself off when you reach for the hem of your wet shirt, already pulling it up over your head and revealing the one piece you wore underneath.

“You don’t gotta look at me, dumbass. Just hold it so I can see what I’m doing.” You don’t see Leon nod, but you see the bright flashlight turn on and shine against you. You drop your wet shirt to the ground and reach for the straps of your swimsuit, beginning to pull it down over your shoulders.

You make the mistake of glancing over at Leon, he hadn’t turned away in the slightest, his gaze was locked onto you like it was absolutely necessary for him to watch you undress. Despite this, you don’t stop. You don’t know if he saw you look at him, but he keeps watching you as you begin to peel to wet swimsuit off your body.

He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple goes up and down once again as he does so. The flashlight in his hand shakes slightly as you pull the swimsuit off your body completely.

Leon looks back up at your face for the first time and immediately winces, his free hand goes to his eyes as if to cover it and pretend he hadn’t seen you fully naked.

“Leon-“

“No, I-I’m sorry. You just- no, goddamnit, that was- shit, y-you’re just really pretty and I-I get it if you’re mad.“ His apology stumbles out of his mouth, his face is even more flushed and his hand that he had moved to cover his eyes now runs through his damp hair. You trail your eyes up and down his body, unsure where to focus, but your gaze keeps landing on the tent forming in his swim trunks.

“I’m not mad.”

“… S-Seriously?” Leon’s gaze meets yours again, he looks a little dumbfounded and awestruck, you can’t help but grin at him.

“No.”

“Oh,” He chuckles awkwardly, clearing his throat and looking down at his feet. “This is just k-kinda embarrassing.”

“… Sorry.” You mumble, looking from him out at the dark campsite.

“What? No- don’t apologize. You just look pretty, I mean, you’ve always been really fucking pretty and I’m just looking at you like- God, I don’t even know. Just don’t apologize.”

“Thanks,” You look back at him, you can’t help the smile on your face when he calls you pretty.

“I mean it, I’ve thought you were the prettiest since like, high school.”

“Actually?”

“Yeah. I don’t wanna sound weird or anything, but I’ve always kinda… liked you? Like, more than a-a friend. And I’m sorry for telling you this when you’re naked in front of me, I just-“ You don’t let Leon finish his sentence, shutting him up with a kiss instead of letting him get his thoughts out.

He melts against you almost instantly, his hands finding their way to your hips as the flashlight is discarded onto the floor. Your hands anchor themselves in his hair, keeping his head in place as the kiss goes on for another five seconds before the two of you split apart for air.

“I should’ve asked, I’m sorry-“ Your own apology is cut short when Leon pulls you against him even closer, kissing you again but only for two seconds.

“I told you not to say sorry.” You smile at him, your hands moving from his hair to the back of his neck. Before you can even stop yourself, your lips attach themselves to his neck, kissing and sucking along the skin you find there.

Leon groans, his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as his head tilts back to give you more skin to work with, which you happily accept. Your hands move again, this time going from his neck to graze over his bare chest. Leon takes that as a sign to move his hands, leaving your hips to grip just underneath your ass. You giggle and push yourself up against him more, he gives a soft chuckle in response.

“This okay with you?” He asks, one hand moves up to cup your ass and squeeze it gently.

“Yeah, it’d be better if we weren’t standing, though.” You pull away from him, his grip on you loosens as he takes your hint and sits himself on the ground at the foot of his air mattress.

You wanted to straddle his lap, but when you lower yourself down to do so, Leon grabs hold of your hips once again and flips you so the upper half of your back rests on top of his air mattress as he hovers over you. He kisses you again, this time tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue to ask for entry. That doesn’t take any negotiation for you, his tongue meets yours, your arms find their way around his neck as he lowers himself down on top of you more, your breasts pressing against his chest.

“We need to be quiet,” You whisper to him once you pull away from his lips.

“Everyone’s asleep by now, and there’s only like, two other campsites near us.” He chuckles slightly, pulling back a few inches to get a better look at you.

“Leon.” You scold quietly, his chuckle turns into a snicker as his hands find their ways up to your breasts.

“Okay, okay,” Leon shakes his head slightly as he brushes his thumbs over your nipples. “Don’t ruin my fun just yet, I’ve been wanting to do this for years.”

“Have you now?” Your arms kissed around his neck, you push yourself further into his touch.

“You’ve got no idea,” He looks up from where your tits rest in his hands to your face, leaning in to kiss you again. The kiss goes on for what feels like thirty minutes before one of your arms unwraps itself from his neck and goes down to the hem of his swim trunks, you tug on it lightly.

Leon pulls back to look at you, his hands leave your breasts to rest on your thighs. The teasing smile on his face is gone, now replaced with a look of concern.

“You’re absolutely sure you’re okay with this?”

“Absolutely.” You smile at him, you cup his face in your hands and give him a small peck on the lips, feeling him smile against your mouth as his hands leave your thighs to pull down his trunks. Leon’s hands are back on you two seconds later, dipping in between your thighs to run his fingers through your slick folds.

“Fuck,” He murmurs, leaning his head down to press kisses to your cheek as his thumb presses against your clit, gently probing against your entrance with his middle finger. You whine softly, it only seems to spur him on, he gently pushes his finger inside you, continuing the soft amount of pressure on your clit. “You’re really pretty.”

“You keep saying that.” You giggle a little bit, your hands move to rest on his shoulders as your head tips to the right.

“Because I mean it.” You’re not sure why he groans, but he does once his finger slides deeper inside of you. “I missed you so much, I didn’t think that this was gonna happen when I came back to town, but I’m so happy it is.”

“M-Me too,” You agree a bit breathlessly, Leon’s kisses trail down to your throat as his pointer finger slowly joins his middle finger. You’re not even really sure how to feel right now, you’ve been craving this for so long, maybe not in a campground with a shelter that hardly concealed any noise, but you really hoped that this wasn’t going to be where things ended for you and Leon.

Leon’s kisses turns into gentle bites as his ministrations continue and the pressure on your clit increases. You bite down on your lip, trying to not let yourself get too loud, but the noises that do slip past your lips, Leon responds to with his own.

“Leon, please.” Your small whimper makes him stop, his fingers come to a halt inside you and he pulls back again to look down at your face.

“You sure?” You only close your eyes and nod, your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders as you wait. “Okay, I got you, I- I’m gonna be gentle.”

His fingers slip out of you, you whine quietly at the loss, earning a tiny snort from him as he pulls back to sit on his knees, keeping one hand attached to your thigh, longing himself up with your entrance. Leon pushes in slowly, watching your face and how your mouth falls open at the intrusion. He lets you adjust for maybe fifteen seconds before he starts moving slowly, keeping one hand on your thigh and slipping the other underneath your back to hold you up a bit.

“Holy shit, you feel s-so good.” He mumbles to you, biting down on his own lip to keep his groans from getting too loud. You nod, unable to find any words to respond with while you begin rocking your hips gently to try and meet his movements.

Leon’s thrusts don’t get much faster than this, he’s trying his best to be gentle and quiet, you’re sure it would be a different story if you were back home. You let your whines get a bit louder as you let the feeling of him pushing in and out of you take over, the soft squelching noises don’t help.

Your hands roam over his chest and shoulders as he continues on for the next few minutes. You can’t make any complaints, you’re sure he can’t, either.

His hand that had been on your thigh had left to trail in between once again, finding your clit and circling it, letting strained pants and whimpers fall from his lips as he hovered above you. Neither of you can find words to say to each other, too focused on how the both of you feel as you move together.

After a few more minutes, the feeling coiling up in your lower abdomen is beginning to become unbearable. “L-Leon, mm fuck- Leon, ‘M gonna-“

“It’s okay, ‘M not gonna stop just y-yet.” Only then does his hips snap forward a bit harder, determined to push you over the edge.

The moan you let out when you came was louder than any other noises you had made that night, Leon seemed to appreciate it, you could tell by the grin that grew on his face as you began to calm down, not that he stopped moving. He pulled out before he came, instead, cumming on the shelter floor and your thighs, you couldn’t say that it bugged you.

The two of you laid there for maybe five minutes, trying to catch your breath as you pressed kisses against each others skin. The floor was a mess but Leon only focused on wiping his release off of you, a stupid smile was painted on his face as he did so.

After the two of you went to piss on separate sides of the site, you met back up in the shelter and actually got dressed this time around. Leon didn’t push you away when you crawled onto his air mattress with him, and he was more than happy to wrap his arms around you and share his blanket with you. Your hands rested on his shoulder blades, head pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat and feeling the rise and fall of his chest. One of his hands was in your hair and the other rested on the small of your back, holding you close to him.

“I don’t… want to leave you just yet.” He said quietly.

“We’ve got a couple more days.”

“No, I know. What I mean is I- I want you to come to the city with me. Just for a few days. I just wanna figure things out between us because I think there’s a lot we should probably discuss and I just really, really don’t want things to end here.” Leon’s voice was a bit louder, you could hear the slight tremble in his words as he spoke, but you didn’t look up at him.

“Would you really be okay with me coming over?”

“All I want is for you to come over. Please.”

“Alright,” You smile against his chest, closing your eyes. “Just don’t keep me waiting with your fancy job.”

“I’m sure my bosses would understand me needing to put a few things on hold for my dream girl.”

this was my reaction @idyllcy 🤧🤧 to your recent work. i will be suing thanks for the mental trauma you've given me now ill be walking around thinking about this.

when tje piece of media got you standing in the middle of yr room reenacting this gif

no words to express how much i love this but i tried to cram it all into something manageable this is more for me than you because ik you dont got time to read my yapping

He tries not to think of it. He'll be your knight one day, and you'll be the empress. The closest he would be able to stand to you would have been that moment in the hallway, and even had he entertained such thoughts, it would have been impossible. You are not allowed to cheat as the future mother of the nation, and he is not allowed to covet the royal family as a future knight. He has not the luxury, yet the sound of your footsteps leave not his mind.

WHY IS THIS WRITTEN SO POETICALLY HUHHH OK TELL ME THIS MUCH CROWN PRINCESS WHY WOULD YOU SETTLE FOR A LOUSY PRINCE WHEN YOU COULD HAVE KNIGHT LEON.

"Sir Leon." "Princess." He nods back, watching as you rush off, mumbling to yourself, head down. Ah, he should... Leon catches up to you, grabbing you by the wrist as your eyes render him breathless. Shit. "Are you... alright, princess?" He swallows. "Yes." "Positive?" He tries again. You do not seem alright. "Yes, Sir Leon." "I... may not know you, but I assure you I am here if you are in need of assistance."

WIFJOSADFKSAJFIOEWR EERKEKRKEKRKEK THIS WHOLE EXCHANGE WAS SO LIKE YK DO YOU GET IT ITS LIKE LISTENING TO A SONG THAT YOU FORGOT ABOUT YEARS AGO AND NOW YOU’RE JUST LIKE “HOLYYYYY THIS IS SO GOOD” THATS ME RN.

"Most of us can tell, you know?" Luis hums. "You like her." "That'd be funny." Leon hums, adjusting the buttons and loosening the neck area. "I truly do not. Perhaps it is a knight's sense to guard." "We of all people know that she is not one who needs guarding." Luis rolls his eyes. "Don't forget how easily she beat Grandmaster Krauser last year in the tournament without even activating aura." "It does not change that I want to guard the future duke." Luis wiggles his brows in knowing, and Leon can only sigh. "There is no way I would join a rank just to approach the young duke."

sir… are you sure about that one… 🤔

It's drilled through Leon's brain on the first day, and he keeps it in the back of his mind — even when you request that he be your personal guard that same day. Wait. Huh. What. "Are you opposed to it?" Leon blinks down at you, pausing to collect himself, brows furrowing as he thinks over it. "Is there a reason it is me, princess?" "Is it wrong to appoint the best knight in the rank as my personal guard? I fear no one quite rivals your swordsmanship out of all my knights."

no you just want to admire him as he stands all straight and pretty in front of you (relatable)

The smile on the knight's face is more than enough to convince Leon that such sharing will not be necessary. Besides, it would be hard for the duke to appoint him as knight with his background. It would create baseless and useless rumors around you, and it would hinder the chances of you getting married or engaged to other noblemen. Leon is not someone with a title nor a name, so even if he were to find you lovely, he would be unable to do anything. The difference in status was too jarring. He is not in your world, and his duty is to guard, not to protect.

no but throughout this whole like fic ig (?? im sorry) theres a standard theme of just like the differences between high and low society and i feel like you contrast them perfectly in this because its not like they COULDNT be together its just from how he was raised in the society he knows that theres nothing he could do, and the fact you put in his background was amazing because like yes orphan leon is canon but i feel like people make that his personality sometimes you just graced the subject and moved tf on like yes queen keep cooking!!

"An assassin had tried throwing a potion at me. It wasn't much, but it was annoying as is since I had bloodied my nightgown, so I was moved to a single rather than my old room. I miss my roommate terribly, you see." "I trust you miss Princess Ashley very much." He nods. "I do." "Perhaps you should go visit her in the morning?" "I can not, you see... It would put her in danger. Until I am no longer the crown princess, I can not risk anyone... other than you, of course. But then again, you have become a knight of the house, so you are... to be used? That does not sound quite right." "My body is to serve you, princess." Leon nods. "Oh... your words are easy to misunderstand, Sir Leon." Your voice carries mirth when you tell him.

WHY 😭 WHY ARE YOU PULLING AT MY HEARTSTRINGS LIKE THIS HOW IS THIS SUCH FLIRTY BANTER BUT ALSO SO ROYAL AND MAJESTIC

So, even when your engagement is announced as broken off to your family, Leon stays in the corner of your dorm, eyes focused on the window. There is some sort of uncomfortable feeling that he can only describe as instinct, and when the first wave of assassins decide to even step foot into the room, Leon's on their necks. This isn't bloodlust, no. This is some other twisted form of duty, he thinks. He's only protecting you. It has nothing to do with the fact that the guilt of leaving you alone with assassins ate him alive, and that he is somehow trying to compensate for it by letting none of them close to your bed. Someone must have disabled the forcefield while the two of you were away.

FORCEFIELD OK LORE MAGIC I SEE THE WORLDBUILDING?? SO NOT ONLY CAN YOU WRITE AMAZING CHARACTERS AND FLAWLESS PROSE YOU CAN ALSO CREATE WORLDS THAT SEEM BETTER THAN HALF THE FANTASY NOVELS I’VE READ??? ALL IN 10K WORDS GODDAMN.

Even when he wakes and you're resting across from him, your eyes closed, skin warm from the sun's glow, he finds it isn't that bad. He changes out of his clothes, leaving your room after checking the protective field, and he returns, only to find that you're still sprawled out on the couch without a care in the world, nightgown hiked up your thigh as Leon closes his eyes and collects himself. This is a biological response. His duty is to guard, not to touch. So, he calls your name, hand placed on the back of the couch as he watches you stir in your sleep. "Princess, you'll be late to class." He tries again. You stir, grimacing as you roll over after catching a look at him. That's enough to wake you, as Leon takes a step back after you nearly hit him in the chin, and order him out after trying to cover yourself. Your nightgown leaves not much to the imagination, and he follows your order, trying to calm his racing heart outside of your door while you change. This is a biological reaction. This has not to do with the fact that all he has done of late is stick around you and get to know you, and it is not related to the reality that he has gotten to know you rather well and that you are attractive with no betrothed. That is not a factor in why his heart races like this. No. Surely not.

“this is a biological reaction” yup totally you know what else is biological creating heirs for the throne 😏😏

"That would not happen with such ease." He holds his hand out for you, helping you into the carriage as you thank him. "You would not rid of me that easily." "Oh, how romantic." Leon can only step in after you, cheeks red with color, staring out the window as your laughter fills the carriage. Perhaps, but only with you.

ok back to being real here i feel like this whole fic is leon denying things and then regretting them and like he realizes actions have consequences but the whole theme of like “i cant have you” is such YAPPER material because yes i know the point of the fic but can i still complain FUCK YEA.

He is not your equal, and he fears he never might be in this universe. "Princess." Leon nods, delivering the papers your father's aide had told you needed double-checking. You have not had a break since your return. Leon dons a sympathetic smile when you rest your face in your hands. "Will you go out with me tomorrow?" "What for?" "I need to take a walk before I become a pile of paperwork myself." You sigh. "It would be a nice change of pace."

ok so definitely here i can see the shift in like being more comfortable with the reader? he’s more open than he was at the beginning and i can see the difference but there’s also something closed off and you convey that well by leon like degrading himself and comparing himself to you??? idk if you get what im saying but yeah 😓

You show up to his room in the dead of night when he wakes, blinking slowly as he stares at you. What are you doing here? What if you are caught? He pulls you into the room with a closing of his door, heart racing in his chest. This is not alright. He needs to— Leon has no time to think, your lips locked on his as he lets out a sound of surprise, scaring you off, causing you to start pulling away, and everything that happens next is all instinct. Duty be dammed.

YESSSS this literally broke the tension so so so so so so well the screech i let out when i read that last line i swear i morphed into a pterodactyl because HELLO??? 

"I will survive." He hums. "Clause twelve states that they are to swear their loyalty to anyone in the royal family. Considering the knowledge that you are still crown princess until the end of the competition, I have sworn my loyalty to the royal family by proxy."

"Ever the sly one, aren't you." Your fingers scratch at his scalp gently, and he hums.

SEE THIS IS THE WHOLE DEADASS LIKE OPEN LEON HES JUST HIM NOW LIKE THIS IS THE RAWEST MOST PURE FORM OF HIM YOU CAN HAVE AND YOU’RE CAPTURED IT PERFECTLYYYYY AGIFWGHWOAIFSH AUGHGHGHGHH

"You smile so brightly, my knight." "You are free from the shackles of the crown, princess." He whispers, forehead pressed to yours. "I am yours at last." "And if I would not have you?" "I am at your disposal regardless." He hums. "What will the people think?" "Do you care? Must you care? What is there to consider when I am by your side?"

OMG SO THIS WAS PERFECTLY SYNCED BECAUSE HES LIKE “bruh i cant what will everyone say” SO THIS IS THE PERFECT LIKE COMFORT BECAUSE THATS ALL THATS STOPPING HIM AND NOW THE READER TELLS HIM THAT ITS OK SO SHIP ❤️

thats it (future me if you're reading this i hope you have similar thoughts)

you're the risk, i'm gonna take it

word count: 10k || banner art by @wr0wn

warnings: mild violence, mentions of blood

summary: A duty to protect, not touch

The sky is a bright blue the first time Leon Scott Kennedy catches glance of you in the academy.

You're engaged to the crown prince, title of crown princess ghosting behind you whenever you step from left to right, front and back, and it is a title that carries the most weight in the empire. You have perfect attendance in the empire's only academy, perfect scores on every possible subject, the title of Grandmaster piled alongside a variety of other achievements you've attained despite being so young. Leon wonders if the titles bury you alive. You must be some god-reincarnate if you're capable of accomplishing so much in the time that it took for him to even learn the sword.

He meets you in passing, your steps noble and proud as you pass him in the hallway of the academy, but it takes no genius to immediately realize that your aura is more than developed. It's enough to make Leon grimace and slow slightly, but you pause to blink at him as he walks away. He feels your gaze on his back, but without a calling, he isn't obligated to slow down. He feels only slightly guilty, but as a student in the faction of the royal family, he isn't obligated to greet you despite your status as crown princess. You aren't the empress yet. Keyword, yet.

So, Leon continues on his way, hand on the hilt of his sword unconsciously, knuckles turning white from the grip, only letting it go when Luis points it out.

Huh. How strange.

He tries not to think of it. He'll be your knight one day, and you'll be the empress. The closest he would be able to stand to you would have been that moment in the hallway, and even had he entertained such thoughts, it would have been impossible. You are not allowed to cheat as the future mother of the nation, and he is not allowed to covet the royal family as a future knight. He has not the luxury, yet the sound of your footsteps leave not his mind.

You stay further cemented when rumors of the crown prince's infidelity flutter around the school between the hallways and through even the air. He worries. You seem like you can only handle so much from there, yet you make no move. All the rumors surrounding you dissipate when the truth is revealed, and he finds that even when he spots you at tea with your companions, you react now. If anything, and, dare he say it, you almost look relieved. He tries understanding. Perhaps it is because you are tired of the crown princess training. Or, perhaps you are simply relieved that you no longer have to carry the weight of the world.

He understands not why you are on his mind, but he cares not.

Only when the rumors are proved true does Leon consider changing out of the royal family's legion for your duchy's. He does not appreciate the corruption and foolishness of the crown prince, and if he were to guard with his life of such a careless man, he would be unable to keep his life. He values that still, at the very least. So, he applies for a change, and a chance to enter into a duchy's knighthood. Yours is the hardest to enter, but he does not lack the skill.

His request is turned in and processed, but he requires a final meeting with the emperor to assure his loyalty. So, he is told to wait for his letter, his day passing slowly as he listens to the gossip amongst the knights of how the crown prince was cheating on the crown princess with a commoner girl. Leon ignores it for the most part, but the insults hurled from one person to the next cause him to tune the vast majority of them out. At the very least, they do not seem to be blaming you for the prince's infidelity.

When the emperor calls for an audience with him, he arrives slightly earlier than invited, and he is told to wander around the palace until the emperor is ready. So, he wanders through the portraits and ornaments, glancing at the stained glass in so many of the hallways, wondering if you had ever— why is it you? Does it have to be you? How can it not be the crown prince? Perhaps he is curious of you. Perhaps, just perhaps, he is slightly invested in you. You are quite intriguing, whatever that might mean to him at the time.

When it is time, he arrives at the grand hall, pulling on the door just as you stumble through, the sight of you causing him to blink.

"Sir Leon."

"Princess." He nods back, watching as you rush off, mumbling to yourself, head down.

Ah, he should...

Leon catches up to you, grabbing you by the wrist as your eyes render him breathless.

Shit.

"Are you... alright, princess?" He swallows.

"Yes."

"Positive?" He tries again. You do not seem alright.

"Yes, Sir Leon."

"I... may not know you, but I assure you I am here if you are in need of assistance."

Leon watches as you rush off, and he knows not of what just possessed him, but he knows that he is there if you are in need of him. Why would he be there if you are in need of him? Why would he. He blinks at his hand as your footsteps fade into the corridor. Huh. You're much frailer than he thought you'd be. Even if your aura was somewhat suffocating, you are still smaller than he. He wonders what your ability is.

"Sir Leon?"

"Yes." He nods, stepping into the throne room as the crown prince leaves with the girl.

He shouldn't entertain those thoughts.

The change from the royal family to the dukedom is seen as a downgrade by many of his fellow knights. He's asked if there is a specific reason, but Leon cannot truly name one that does not have to do with you, so he settles with telling everyone that he would much rather serve someone who is so-called pure than someone who has the heart to commit infidelity despite being betrothed to someone. The people in his legion understand for the most part. Luis, though has other ideas, winking at Leon when his new uniform arrives, wiggling his brows as Leon tries out the uniform.

"It's for la princesa, isn't it?" He wiggles his brows, looking from behind Leon as the latter rolls his eyes.

"It is not."

"Most of us can tell, you know?" Luis hums. "You like her."

"That'd be funny." Leon hums, adjusting the buttons and loosening the neck area. "I truly do not. Perhaps it is a knight's sense to guard."

"We of all people know that she is not one who needs guarding." Luis rolls his eyes. "Don't forget how easily she beat Grandmaster Krauser last year in the tournament without even activating aura."

"It does not change that I want to guard the future duke."

Luis wiggles his brows in knowing, and Leon can only sigh.

"There is no way I would join a rank just to approach the young duke."

The first day upon meeting the knights, he's thoroughly chewed out by the general because of the rumors he transferred to court you. He denies it, but he is told to keep his distance nonetheless. Well-regarded knight or not, everyone was equal under the dukedom, and no one was to even dream of having their hands on the future duke. It is their duty to guard, not to touch. The only kind of contact they were allowed to do was one to protect, not to have.

It's drilled through Leon's brain on the first day, and he keeps it in the back of his mind — even when you request that he be your personal guard that same day.

Wait. Huh. What.

"Are you opposed to it?"

Leon blinks down at you, pausing to collect himself, brows furrowing as he thinks over it.

"Is there a reason it is me, princess?"

"Is it wrong to appoint the best knight in the rank as my personal guard? I fear no one quite rivals your swordsmanship out of all my knights."

Leon blinks. He knows not why he hesitates, but he ponders over just what he should listen to. His mind? His heart? That strange emotion that's been driving him up a wall upon meeting you all that while ago? It's incredible, he thinks. He has lost all sense of reason simply because he has met you. Yet, the words of the general force him to stay grounded, mentioning that perhaps it would have more of a misunderstanding if he were to prove himself as a worthy contender to be your personal guard. He can not risk ruining your reputation. It would be cruel of him.

"Perhaps a recommendation from the general himself?" Leon nods. "A recommendation from anyone that is not you, princess. With all due respect. I have vowed to protect your purity until it is time, for it is my duty as one of your knights."

"I see." You tap your cheek. "Then, from my father would suffice?"

"Perhaps."

"I shall let the duke know of my idea."

Leon grows flustered at your bow, telling you to stand up and that as your knight, he deserves not your kind gesture. He is new in the rank, not even an old knight. He deserves not that honor from you, yet you shake your head. You tell him it is nonsense for him to believe that he is not of equal rank as you because you are a noble. You are a knight as well, he remembers. Yet, he is not the grandmaster that you are, so he still does not deserve it.

"If the duke appoints it, you shall listen?"

"Of course, your highness."

Leon watches as you spin on your heel and leave.

Surely, the duke would be opposed to such an idea.

Leon goes back to his day-to-day schedule, adapting and getting along with the rest of the knights, listening as they whisper to each other and him of how dazzling you are, and how there would have been plenty of knights in the rank that had applied in order to get a second look at the young duke. Leon cannot refute their words, as you are attractive, but he does not add fuel to the fire, listening to their rambling instead, hearing of rumors left and right of different people.

"Leon, what are your thoughts? Surely you transferred because you found the young duke attractive?"

"On the contrary, it was because I did not wish to serve a cheating crown prince." He stares at the wooden stein in his hand, at the gold of the beer that haunts him back. "The dukedom was the next best legion."

"Truly not because you covet the young duke?"

"You know, with a face like his, surely seducing the young duke is an easy feat."

"He just has to show up shirtless in front of the princess once!"

Leon does not answer to their words, wondering if you are used to such whispers behind your back. It had always been "the crown prince is so lucky to have such an attractive princess as his betrothed" and never how much you had accomplished. He would not know that idea, but perhaps your role as a woman in this world was similar to him being a commoner in another. But of course, it would be hard to compare the life of a princess to that a commoner, regardless of gender orientation. He has not the luxury, and he is aware that you do not either.

"Leon, I heard the duke is considering having you guard the princess. Tell us all about it, will you?"

The smile on the knight's face is more than enough to convince Leon that such sharing will not be necessary. Besides, it would be hard for the duke to appoint him as knight with his background. It would create baseless and useless rumors around you, and it would hinder the chances of you getting married or engaged to other noblemen. Leon is not someone with a title nor a name, so even if he were to find you lovely, he would be unable to do anything. The difference in status was too jarring.

He is not in your world, and his duty is to guard, not to protect.

When the duke calls him in for a meeting, he can only assume that you have somehow convinced the duke to let him guard you.

"The young duke mentioned it to you, I believe? I have decided to let them proceed with it." The duke nods. "Though, you have the choice to turn down the offer."

"I would not dream of it, duke." Leon bows, and he is dismissed.

He wonders how you did it, but not too much when he knocks and enters your room, standing to the side as you finish tying your tie, tilting your head at Leon as he greets you in the morning.

"Princess."

You are always a sight to behold. The title of heir suits you, and your posture is perfect, elegance and grace radiating off of you, uniform perfect on your body. There is an air that only certain nobles carry, and it is without a doubt that you are one of them. Leon finds that those with such an air are more tolerable than those without. There is a certain education that those who are aware of their position hold. You know perfectly where you stand.

"Good morning, sir." You smile. "Has the duke summoned you?"

"Yes." He nods. He's quite impressed that you managed to convince the duke, but he's also curious what had driven the duke to do such a thing. Perhaps you would let him know—

"I got ambushed two nights ago, you see."

Leon blinks, sure that he has just heard you wrong. "Pardon?"

"An assassin had tried throwing a potion at me. It wasn't much, but it was annoying as is since I had bloodied my nightgown, so I was moved to a single rather than my old room. I miss my roommate terribly, you see."

"I trust you miss Princess Ashley very much." He nods.

"I do."

"Perhaps you should go visit her in the morning?"

"I can not, you see... It would put her in danger. Until I am no longer the crown princess, I can not risk anyone... other than you, of course. But then again, you have become a knight of the house, so you are... to be used? That does not sound quite right."

"My body is to serve you, princess." Leon nods.

"Oh... your words are easy to misunderstand, Sir Leon." Your voice carries mirth when you tell him.

Leon realizes the weight of his words, backing up gently. "I... did not mean that kind of use. My apologies, princess."

"It is nothing. Worry not." You smile.

Leon follows you around the campus, his classes never overlapping with yours, dutifully lingering around you, nodding at you when you have lunch with Ashley and Ada, sat to the side where he can still see you, but having lunch with Luis. He's sure that he needs to keep a sharp eye on you, but all he can seem to hear is Luis talking about how he's grown to be the princess' favorite.

"She quite likes you, eh?"

"I do not know what you're talking about." Leon bites into his meal, giving Luis an unamused stare.

"You're always so mean to me." Luis sighs.

"You insist on teasing me over something that is not reality."

"I fear it is reality, only you do not realize." Leon sighs, taking another bite.

"There is no amusement in tha—"

Ada's voice breaks Leon from his eating. "Leon!"

It's a knight's instinct — to protect. Leon's sword is out almost immediately, the girl is tackled to the ground as Ada stands in front of you, sword held up in front of her as he waits for your order. He does not have time to ponder over whether or not this was a decision of logic. His use to you is to serve. His duty is to protect and not touch. Regardless of who it was, he was not to let any harm come your way.

"Princess?"

"She tried pouring hot water on me."

Leon listens as your footsteps stop next to him.

"What would the crown prince think? If he were to find out that his beloved was out bullying the crown princess?"

The hand on his shoulder indicates for him to let go, and he obeys, stepping off of the girl as she coughs and sputters excuses.

"It was an accident!"

"Quite the opposite." Ashley raises a brow from the table. "Both Dame Ada and I saw you sneak up behind her to pour the water. Perhaps be more discreet if you decide you do not value your life."

"P-princess—"

"Save it. If my foolish brother wishes to squander his position for some commoner girl, then so be it. It is not as though we do not have other siblings." She waves her hand, and the girl rushes off.

You laugh. "I'm fine. Ada reacted quite efficiently. Perhaps you should be my personal knight instead?"

Ada shakes her head. "Unfortunately, I am tied to my current house. I have taken the oath already."

"I see. I forget that you are our senior oftentimes. You will be gone soon."

Leon glances at you as you sit back down, exhaling as you do.

"You make it sound as though I will pass." She rolls her eyes. "Sir Leon, thank you. You're free to return to dine."

"Princess?" He must check on you one final time.

"Please dine, kind knight. I must as well."

"Then, with pleasure."

Leon finds that your day-to-day life is full of harassment attempts. He can no longer count on his hands how many times someone has attempted something to you, and he ponders if this is simply the result of your breaking off of the engagement or the jealousy of the crown prince's partner. From what he has gathered from your tea times with your friends, there isn't much you like about the crown prince. You find him to be someone who is just... your betrothed. You tell the girls that you only look forward to the day that you could perhaps develop a personality of your own outside of the title of crown princess.

You afford not the luxury that a typical noble should, at least not when it comes to your actions.

So, when Leon is sent off with the princess in his arms in a hurry, he's apprehensive to leave you all alone in the garden. If something were to happen to you, then it would be his fault, so he wastes no time in telling the nurse that the princess is poisoned, and leaving her ladies in waiting with her. He makes haste, hopping out a window and rushing down the hall to make sure that you have not fallen. It takes not a genius to know that the goal of isolation was to kill, so he's relieved to find that you've killed three of the four men already. He stabs through the spine of the final one with his sword, and you nod at him for his service. Though, for him, he really did none. You had taken care of the majority of them.

"You got blood on your clothes, princess." Leon fishes out a handkerchief for you, and he watches you try wiping your face before you just huff and tell him to do it for you.

Leon's careful not to press too hard, hand cupping your face while the other wipes gently. He tries ignoring the way you blink up at him with a smile on your face, the unfamiliar feeling of his heart racing in his ears from someone rather than a fight uncomfortable. He worries that his fingers are too calloused for your skin, but you do not complain while he wipes. When he finishes, he pockets the handkerchief, taking a step back as you give him a nod in gratitude.

"Are you alright?"

"I am quite alright. Nothing a little knight training could not handle." Leon watches you stop in your steps. "Dare I say, it was cartharic."

"My apologies for leaving, princess. I shall stay next time."

"Those ladies in waiting could not have taken care of the princess in the time that it took for you to carry her over. I sent you off. It was not your fault."

The guilt still stays, though.

So, even when your engagement is announced as broken off to your family, Leon stays in the corner of your dorm, eyes focused on the window. There is some sort of uncomfortable feeling that he can only describe as instinct, and when the first wave of assassins decide to even step foot into the room, Leon's on their necks. This isn't bloodlust, no. This is some other twisted form of duty, he thinks. He's only protecting you. It has nothing to do with the fact that the guilt of leaving you alone with assassins ate him alive, and that he is somehow trying to compensate for it by letting none of them close to your bed. Someone must have disabled the forcefield while the two of you were away.

The first wave of assassins fall, blood on the ground, barely putting up a fight. Leon stares out the window, and it just so happens to be a strategy to exhaust him rather than kill him. Whoever sent these men out must love to assume things about people. It's a shame that his aura fed on blood. The second wave is wiped out, and Leon feels himself sweating through his clothes by the third, the blood already more than annoying to wipe from his face, and when the fourth wave arrives, he decides that it'd be much easier to just plummet them all to their deaths through the window.

The dorm reeks of blood by the time that he is gone, and he's sure to wipe his hands free of the fluid before kneeling by your bed, resting his head on his sword, breathing labored. He's sure the gold of his hair has become brown from blood, and that his skin has become stained with red. Perhaps he would scare you if you were to wake, but he can not keep up appearances in this state. He's exhausted. He would need rest, and it helps not that he is stuck on one knee at the side of your bed with a bloodied sword. He takes the moment to breathe, eyes closing only when he no longer hears the footsteps of people.

He's sure he's a sight to behold right now. Stuck on one knee at the foot of your bed, sword resting on the ground, sweat and blood visible in his hair, eyes closed as his breathing's labored. The sound of thunder outside of your windows adds to the ambiance, and Leon worries that he might scare you, eyes only opening to check that you're still breathing. There has to be at least one more round. He's sure of it. He's just waiting for it to happen. He can not rest until his instincts tell him that you are safe. His duty is to guard. He must spare nothing of himself in order to keep you safe.

When the final assassins attempt to break in, Leon doesn't bother fighting the traditional way, blue eyes glowing in the dark as the blood on him forms a sword. Truly, they do not pay him enough to deal with this. Yet, he endures it all, the blood in the room cleaning itself to form into his sword, the final two assassins halting at the art. Leon allows himself two hits. One for each assassin, and he upholds his words, both of the final men falling to the ground, the red of his sword staining his arms, sword collapsing into the ground when he finishes, the exhaustion finally allowed to slither through his body, kneeling on the ground at the foot of your bed as you stir.

"Did I wake you?" He looks up at you, sure that his eyes look tired.

"Knight, are you alright?" You take the handkerchief on your bedside, motioning for Leon to look up at you, wiping the blood and sweat from his face as he exhales, nuzzling into your hand.

"My duty is to guard, princess. It matters not whether or not I am alright." He whispers. "Though, I thank you for cleaning my face. I can not leave you even for a moment."

"Perhaps I shall assign a second knight? It is exhausting to be like this, no?"

"Just let me rest my eyes once the magicians arrive. I will be alright." He whispers.

"Rest on the couch, my knight."

Leon lets you lead him to couch, following your hands as you have him lay down, blinking slowly at you sitting on the other couch, eyes only daring to close once the magicians restore the forcefield. He's out after that, exhaustion wracking through his bones. He's glad he had decided to stay up this time rather than return to his quarters to rest. The couch is uncomfortable, but when he wakes and the sun peeks past your curtains, he finds that it's not that bad. He had a full night's rest, and it seemed that you had fallen asleep across from him

Even when he wakes and you're resting across from him, your eyes closed, skin warm from the sun's glow, he finds it isn't that bad. He changes out of his clothes, leaving your room after checking the protective field, and he returns, only to find that you're still sprawled out on the couch without a care in the world, nightgown hiked up your thigh as Leon closes his eyes and collects himself. This is a biological response. His duty is to guard, not to touch. So, he calls your name, hand placed on the back of the couch as he watches you stir in your sleep.

"Princess, you'll be late to class." He tries again.

You stir, grimacing as you roll over after catching a look at him.

That's enough to wake you, as Leon takes a step back after you nearly hit him in the chin, and order him out after trying to cover yourself. Your nightgown leaves not much to the imagination, and he follows your order, trying to calm his racing heart outside of your door while you change. This is a biological reaction. This has not to do with the fact that all he has done of late is stick around you and get to know you, and it is not related to the reality that he has gotten to know you rather well and that you are attractive with no betrothed. That is not a factor in why his heart races like this. No. Surely not.

Leon's not supposed to return to the duchy with you, so when the duke summons and makes known that Leon will be returning to the mansion in the east with you, Leon agrees, though apprehensive. He has not much to pack, so he makes do with a singular suitcase, packed before he knocks on the door to your room, let in with a single command from you. He watches as you smooth out your clothes and help the maids, only letting go once your personal maid tells you hands off. You comply, though Leon catches a pout on your lips as he steps next to you.

"Are you all packed, princess?" He steps behind you, glancing at the briefcases.

"Yes." You take one final look at the room, tilting your head at Leon. "And you?"

"I have not many belongings." He nods.

Leon finds that you truly do not do much. You attend classes and linger around his in the afternoon, choosing to stick by Ada instead of him but still glancing his way, making him wonder. Yet, he has not the luxury to think what your stolen glances mean, since even if they were to mean something, he would not be able to act upon your preferences. He has not the luxury, and neither do you. Even if all he can think of is your bare skin and how your lips would taste, he has not— he needs an ice bath. Preferably now, but he truly should not be thinking of you in such a way. His duty is to guard, not to touch.

"You graduate the incoming year, correct?"

Your words break him from his trance, blinking slowly to come back to reality.

"Sir Leon, if you'd like, I can—"

"Yes, princess." He smiles. "My apologies. I've been lost in thought more and more often lately. You were saying?."

"I was just going to say that if you no longer wish to guard me, I can let the duke know to return you to the knight's quarters. I imagine it must be hard guarding me at all times."

"I... it's quite alright, princess. I do nto find that it is a burden. Rather, you make it so that I am comfortable guarding you." Leon assures you. "Though, if you wish to change guards, I am not against such a change."

"I would not dream of it, Sir Leon. I am glad that you do not find me a nuisance. I was worried that night had made you change your mind, you see."

"That would not happen with such ease." He holds his hand out for you, helping you into the carriage as you thank him. "You would not rid of me that easily."

"Oh, how romantic."

Leon can only step in after you, cheeks red with color, staring out the window as your laughter fills the carriage.

Perhaps, but only with you.

Huh. With you? Only with you? What is that supposed to mean? He's your knight, he dares not to have improper thoughts of you. Perhaps he shouldspend time away from you if he dares to have such thoughts. He can not act upon them, and even though he had not accounted for the fact that he could have fallen for you like this, he finds that the warmth on his skin from your touch will never be unwelcome. How sickening of him to even have such unwelcomed thoughts of you. What is the point of coveting him if his duty is to guard? There is no way he would ever get to feel the touch of your skin outside of escorting and protecting.

Yet, it keeps him up at night, the moon in his eyes as he blinks up at it, in the knights' quarters rather than outside your door, unused to being far away from you for so long. He should not know this feeling. He should not understand what it is to covet and like your master, yet he is not immune to it, finding that perhaps this will end terribly for him once you are engaged to another man once again. He has not the choice, nor the luxury. So, he is stuck greeting you in the mornings, following you around and accompanying you to your day-to-day, guarding your door while you take care of the matters of the mansion, stationed to the side when you dine.

He is not your equal, and he fears he never might be in this universe.

"Princess." Leon nods, delivering the papers your father's aide had told you needed double-checking. You have not had a break since your return.

Leon dons a sympathetic smile when you rest your face in your hands.

"Will you go out with me tomorrow?"

"What for?"

"I need to take a walk before I become a pile of paperwork myself." You sigh. "It would be a nice change of pace."

"And not in the garden which you so willfully manage?"

"I want not a breath of air down in the streets while I can still afford it. One day I will be cursed to stay inside at all times. I can go alone if you do not wish to."

"Princess, are you planning on sneaking out?" He raises a brow.

"Perhaps..." You try and change the subject. "Is there a reason you insist on calling me princess? I am the young duke, you are aware?"

"I am, but it changes not that you are a princess until the official title of duke is given to you."

Oh, is that too direct?

"Am I your princess, my knight?"

Guess not.

"Who else would be?"

"Perhaps your lover? You are getting to that age, after all. Have any of the knights caught your eye?"

"It would be improper to court anyone in the same house as I, but it would be concerning to court someone from a house that is not mine. Time will tell." Leon shakes his head. Though, not that he covets someone else. He'd argue that coveting his master is the worst thing.

"I find Dame Ada quite attractive."

"It changes not that she has no interest in anything other than her blade." Leon thinks of all the rumors surrounding the female knights in the royal legion.

"Reasonable. Ugh, I must start considering the noblemen again. Father sent letter to make haste."

Leon finds himself curious of such. Noblemen were always easier to become than noblewomen when you were a commoner. Dare he entertain the thought, perhaps he would be able to... he dares not to complete that thought. It would be blasphemy for him to. He cannot fathom becoming someone of that importance to you as your knight. He might never become someone of that importance to you.

"Princess, what would make a man a nobleman?"

"Noble blood, or someone who holds a title of Grand so and so. Grandmaster knights and Grandmaster mages are both considered nobility under the law." You pause. "Perhaps you should go become the new Grandmaster in the knight tournament later in summer. I'd let you go for that reason."

"And for what reason would I have to become a grandmaster?"

Do you share the same sentiment?

"Oh, my apologies." You laugh, scratching your cheek. "It was just a suggestion. It would be nice to tell my father that I'll decide after the knighting tournament, after all. You made it quite far last time."

"You have the title of grandmaster as well, no?" He tilts his head.

"I do." You hum. "Which is why it would be nice to be guarded by one."

"I see."

No other reason, then.

"Will you reward me if I win?"

"If there is something I can give, then of course. It would only be fair for me to reward my loyal knight, no? Then, I shall arrange for someone to take over your role after tomorrow."

Then Leon believes that he should. After all, if he were to fight a grandmaster and last an adequate amount of time, then he would be given the title as well. He needs to defeat or stay standing, and considering the bloodshed in the arena, it won't be long before he can use his aura on the red. He wonders if it'll scare you. He had only ever dared to use it behind your back. Though, you were never really in a position to warrant him to use it other than the darkness of night that one time.

If he's lucky, he'll fight you.

If he isn't, he'll fight his old legion commander.

If he's truly unlucky, he'll fight someone he's never met before.

Though, that wouldn't be much of a deal.

He follows you out the following day, nodding at you as you hand him skewers from night markets and other treats. You attempt to explain that your version of splurging was having commoner food, but Leon finds that it is a hard sentiment to share. He does not understand, but he does not mind all that much. He keeps you safe, sticking behind you as you kick your legs at the festival. He finds it quite nice. It was a break that was much needed for him as well despite the role of your guard on this excursion.

"Have you considered who to train with?" You tilt your head, tossing your skewer into a bin.

"I have not, princess." Leon shakes his head.

"Shall I train you?"

Leon believes that truly it would be better to say no, but he finds that he has not that ability, agreeing instead. He's sure that he might get distracted or worse, but he finds that you mean it when you say train. Leon doubts Krauser ever trained him this harshly. You train with him, running matching his as you complete paperwork during his breaks, and Leon wonders if he's underestimated you. Perhaps you didn't need him to protect you that night. Had he not been there, you might've wiped them out much quicker than he did.

Yet, he spares no extra thought, catching his breath after a run that he's too tired to think over. He's stuck there breathing and catching his breath all while you lean against the pole to look over the remaining papers of the day. You must be made of steel. Leon can hardly keep up with your training, yet you pass through it with a breeze, having even the energy to do paperwork afterward.

"Princess, do—" He heaves. "do you not tire after the runs?"

"Nothing is as awful as the endurance training I received for the title of crown princess." You finish with the task. "Now, shall we do another lap?"

"Princess." He gasps. "Please let your knight rest."

"One might get the wrong notion at your words, Sir Leon." You hum. "Take a break. Would you like something to drink?"

"Just air." He sits on the stone pathing and falls back, resting on the ground and staring at the sky. He finds that he must receive the title of grandmaster. If he does not, he fears you might end up in a toxic cycle with a man who cares not for you, and as your knight, his duty is to guard you. What better way to guard you from the horrors of others if not by guarding you in every way possible? If your purity is guarded, then you can rest until you graduate.

After you graduate, surely, you shall fall in love with someone and wed.

So, Leon continues with each day of his, enduring your training in the morning and resting at night to the thought of you. He wonders if this is a form of treason — to like one's master. Yet, he dares not to speak up, daring not to do something that could ruin his chances of ever seeing you ever again. Though, the only visible change in himself that he notices by the end of it all is that he has grown larger in stature. If he had been alright for a knight before, then he would have been far better as one now. He has you to thank for that, he supposes.

You leave for the tournament with him.

Leon helps you onto the carriage, listening to you ramble of how the duke was rushing you for marriage, asking if you had plans to respond. You shake your head at him, and Leon settles for talking to you, trying his best to calm his anxiety. The adrenaline would overtake it once at the tournament, but until then, he would be stuck feeling anxious over baseless things. Speaking with you was always a welcome activity for him. However, only with you.

Perhaps he would learn to be more honest with himself.

The ride itself is nothing remarkable, green passing before it returns to the streets of the capital, bustling roads and busy people. The knight tournament was a big event, and it was open to all who wished to come. It was a display of power, and it was an act of variance to the people. Leon knew well that the emperor only hosted these tournaments in order to knight only the strongest of men. Yet, there are still century-old loopholes that could be abused with the right amount of talking. Everything could be learned if you were smart enough.

When he arrives, he is sure to escort you to your lodging before he returns to his own. You follow for the sake of knowing, and Leon takes you there. It is a small upgrade from the previous year, but it would still be better if he were to move up. Your lodging was much nicer than his, so it would only make sense for him to aim for such. After all, even if he were to not do it for himself, he must do it for you.

You had spent so much time taking care of him so it was only fair that he would take care of you in return.

Maybe he did love his own master, but was it such a sin to partake of the tree that nurtures you?

Leon says his goodbyes to you, and he finds that the first handful of days have not too much of an effect on him. It is the same old, blades clashing and metal making sound, clangs of sound in the arena as people are knocked down again and again. It isn't all that new to Leon anymore. You had far more strength than necessary, and you had never once gone easy on him. He lasts a long enough time against you, but there was no guarantee he would in the tournament. The exhaustion from multiple days of battle would wear him down by the final day.

Yet, he ends up in the semifinals with multiple of his old comrades, apologizing gently before he knocks them out one by one, standing in the middle of the arena as one of the final knights left. His breathing is labored by the end, the defeat of seven other knights enough to warrant him to start considering whether he would survive the battle the next day. Yet, he is announced as victor, exhaustion deep in his bones as he looks up to where the grandmasters are seated. They must pick someone now.

Leon ponders if this is some strange sense of invincibility simply because he had chosen you as his master. Yet, he dares not to think it, watching as the grandmasters discuss amongst themselves over who would fight him. You can not fight him, you had mentioned, since you had been his master. You stand on the side, watching the rest of the people discuss, and Krauser is eliminated since Leon had been his pupil. Leon is finally chosen to duel with Sir Albert, but there is little to no chance to win against him. He simply has to outlast the other knights who have also made it so far.

You do not visit him for the time being, so he recuperates in his room, resting well and stretching to remove the soreness, heeding your words on staying hydrated before the battle itself. When he is called, he is notified that the previous knight had lasted a total of forty minutes. Leon is told that in previous years, winners had lasted well over an hour of continuous battle. He lasts forty at most when in battle with you, and he had hardly any faith in himself that he would last longer when battling Sir Albert. He drew the short end of the stick, yet he ponders if he truly did. Out of the final knights, he could not place himself in any position that he could guarantee that he would win.

Yet, even if he were to die in the battle, he must die trying.

Leon bows at the knight as they stand on opposite ends, and he fights. Drilled into his body by your training, he is capable of predicting typical movement based on posture, but he is not prepared for the sheer strength and deceptiveness that his opponent hones. He receives a blow once or twice, and he has little to no time to think over the timer at the speed of his opponent. His blade clashes more times than he can count, ducking and flipping back when there are too many close calls.

Leon learns to stomach the hits, blade no longer enough as he feels his wounds, cuts strewn on both his arms and face, too many close calls for comfort, yet none on his legs. He learns to dodge as he fights, realizing that kicks to the knight's legs mean little to nothing. Leon would have to dodge and duck. When he steps back, the blade is oftentimes thrust at his stomach, so Leon learns to have his blade meet it, twisting it in one motion to force it downwards so he can stumble his opponent.

Once the other knight picks up on this, Leon learns to use different strategies, kicking and spinning, blade an extension of his body as he fights. The blood from his body eventually pools into his blade, aura bright red as his blade rusts the grandmaster's, wondering if he would have the ability to defeat the grandmaster before he would get to activate his aura. There was not one soul who knew not that Sir Albert's ability made his blade unbreakable. He would have to make up his lack of stamina in strength, and he truly only had one chance to do so. Before the grandmaster made his blade unbreakable rather than his body.

It mattered not whether or not Leon had injuries, but it mattered whether or not he could break his opponent's blade. He knows not the time, so it would be in his best interest to do so.

So, Leon focuses all of his energy on a final strike, blood swallowing his opponent's blade, leaving it in pieces as he stumbles backwards, breathing labored as he listens for the blare of his victory. It has been far too long. He has been stuck fighting his opponent for far too long. He is exhausted to the bone, a form of exhaustion that he had only felt once. He despises this exhaustion, yet he must pull forth. He wonders if the blood will be enough, or if he will be stuck riding the effects of his adrenaline in order to win.

He is left exhausted when his opponent simply forms the sword once more from the broken pieces.

He prepares to start again, stumbling back as he breathes, blood rushing to his head as Sir Albert stops to stare up at the time. Time slows for Leon, sure that he is far too exhausted to continue fighting, body weight supported by his blade as he gasps, sure that he is nauseous beyond repair. He feels as though he could empty the contents of his stomach from the past four days just from how awful he feels. He forces himself to focus anyway, eyes glued to the grandmaster as he registers the words.

"One hour and twenty minutes." The grandmaster announces. "In addition, you have broken my blade. Sir Leon, congratulations on winning your battle."

Leon gasps for air, fatigue visible all over his face as he gasps out thanks to the grandmaster, forcing himself up despite the pain in his muscles, bowing at the grandmaster before stumbling to the barracks to lie down. He sits in the back as he watches the next knight step up to the podium, no longer caring. His case was finished, and the grandmaster himself had announced that he won his battle. All that was left was to wait and recover. There was no more he could do.

The final knight of the day fights you, and Leon gets to watch as you spin and dodge, avoiding as many attacks as you could, wearing out your opponent before you consider using your own strength. You had been exhausting to fight simply because you had read your opponent easily. So to watch you battle in such a way was a breath of fresh air. He is capable of predicting most of your movements based on the way you spin off of your blade. In addition, the metal of your blade did not know to rust.

At the fifty-minute mark, Leon watches as you finally switch to the offensive, the knight fighting you far too exhausted to block all of the attacks, falling to his knees from exhaustion as you count down, battle declared finished just short of the one-hour mark. He knows not of the rest of the knights, but the announcer would declare the winner after a short break. Leon finally stands up, stretching as he groans, muscles decompressing as he does. It feels like heaven, and when he stretches further, he finds that he feels much better.

The rest of the knights wait anxiously, uncertain of who would win. Leon had been lucky to know the knight before him's time, but not everyone was fortunate enough to overhear such conversations. There is an eerie sense of calmness that overwhelms him when he waits, heart no longer ringing in his ears as he is gathered with the rest of the knights. When the announcement starts, he holds neither his breath nor his exhaustion. If he wins, then he wins. He must bring victory home to his master — only then would he be able to call himself yours wholeheartedly.

When his name is called, he exhales in relief, collapsing to his knees by the other knights as they cheer, and Leon feels as though he could cry. He has brought it home. He has brought you to safety. His title of grandmaster would protect both you and him from unwarranted trouble, and you would be able to use him as an excuse to not engage with other men of the nobility. He stares up at the gathering of grandmasters, eyes meeting yours as you smile at him, waving gently. He would delude himself into the idea that you are happy that he has won. Just this once, he would let himself be deluded by such useless thoughts.

The medics tend to the knights, Leon's cuts are cleaned, his wounds preserved for the knighting ceremony the next day, and he is sent back to his room for rest. He ponders over whether or not you would come visit, but he knows those are useless thoughts. You would not be able to do such a thing. If you are caught, your purity could be at risk, and he could not guarantee that the adrenaline would not drive him to do something foolish. He dares not to do something you do not wish to do, so it would be best to not put himself in a situation that could result in such. Yet, the universe has other plans.

You show up to his room in the dead of night when he wakes, blinking slowly as he stares at you.

What are you doing here? What if you are caught? He pulls you into the room with a closing of his door, heart racing in his chest. This is not alright. He needs to—

Leon has no time to think, your lips locked on his as he lets out a sound of surprise, scaring you off, causing you to start pulling away, and everything that happens next is all instinct.

Duty be dammed.

Leon chases your lips as you threaten to pull away, hand sliding to the back of your head, eyes half-lidded as he forces you against the bed, lips clashing with yours desperately as he rests you on the bed instead, neck craned down. He engulfs you in himself, your shadows disappearing in the alley as he covers you, his own head dizzy from the taste of you. Sweet as sin, he thinks. You're so sweet, his tongue against yours, smell of your perfume stuck in his lungs as he pulls away only to gasp for air before going back to you. He supposes he only has this chance to kiss you anyway, so he might as well make the most of it. Perhaps in another life, he could have you all to himself, difference in status invisible to the people. Perhaps in another life, he gets to kiss you senseless on the daily, never needing either of you to suffer to such an extent.

He lets you pull away eventually, forehead resting on your collar with an exhale, heartbeat matching yours slowly as he closes his eyes.

He has to apologize.

"I'm sorry." He slurs, breath warm against your shoulder. He should not have done that.

"Don't be."

And Leon believes you.

Leon lays bruised and battered as he has you sit on the bed, getting off of you to control himself, breathing deep as you blink at him. He wants more. He's certain you do too, but he can not give it to you. No, it would be too much. If he gives it to you now, then it would defeat the purpose of the tournament. He shall wait until the title of nobility is given to him, and then he would indulge himself — granted you would let him. He hopes you will. He doubts he will experience this level of devotion with anyone else. He would not let himself.

The moon paints your skin pale, and you stare back at him, breathing labored as you whisper.

"Who will you swear your loyalty to tomorrow?"

Leon hesitates not, blood forming from his hand, red shaping into a sword from his wounds, blinking slowly as he gets on a single knee in front of you, offering a sword of blood. He fears that you will not take it, delicate hands far too soft to touch something so ragged, but he needs you to knight him. He no longer has his blade in order to prevent treason, but he can not let himself be knighted by anyone other than you. He would rather die.

"My knight."

"Knight me, so that the emperor may not do so tomorrow." He whispers. "My loyalties lie with you, not with the king."

"My knight, I cannot—"

"I beg of you." He mumbles. "If you knight me now, the king can not knight me in the morning. You need not to get up, just... please."

You comply, red of his blade staining your hand as you stare, eyes closing as you whisper a prayer to the stars.

Leon stays staring up at you, heart racing in his chest as you stand, blade held out to one shoulder ancient chant whispered under your breath, the room filling with a golden haze as you move the blade to his other shoulder, light engulfing the room as Leon exhales,head collapsing in your lap as his blade trickles into a pool of blood at his feet, head in your lap as he rests his head. If treason would be held over his head, then so be it. He has done what he needs to. He may rest in peace now.

"Thank you."

"What will you tell the emperor?"

"I need not anything else. This was my request." He mumbles. "Stay the night."

"I cannot do that." You push his hair back, and Leon closes his eyes.

"I know."

"The emperor will have you executed for this."

"I'll run off with you." He hums. "Divine intervention. Bribe a priest."

"I can not do that, my knight." Your voice carries mirth. "And the regulations?"

"I will survive." He hums. "Clause twelve states that they are to swear their loyalty to anyone in the royal family. Considering the knowledge that you are still crown princess until the end of the competition, I have sworn my loyalty to the royal family by proxy."

"Ever the sly one, aren't you." Your fingers scratch at his scalp gently, and he hums.

"I have to. It is for you, after all."

"Then, will you have me?"

"Only if you would have me in exchange."

Leon requests that you knight him, glancing at your failed pretending to be unaffected by the emperor's expression. Yet, you step up to him anyway, taking the sword from his hand. He bows his head as he feels the blade on both sides of his shoulder, same golden haze erupting in the colosseum as the night before. Leon ponders if the emperor would truly ask him what his request would be after this. From your words, he was bound to contract to announce that you would no longer be crown princess after this.

When asked, he requests the title of Marquis. He could have been a duke if he truly wished for it, but the title of Marquis often came with no land, and he could spend the rest of his days tending to you while you managed the duchy. He stares the emperor in the eye when asking of so, and he thanks the emperor when he is granted the title. He is granted no land but a residence in the capital, and he thanks the emperor for such an act of generosity. He fakes it, but he is sure he has done an adequate job. The emperor is not doing a much better job at pretending to be thrilled by the knowledge that he has just sworn his loyalty to someone who is soon to no longer part of the royal family.

The emperor hardly hides his displeasure by Leon's choice of loyalty while announcing that you would no longer be crown princess. Some of the citizens realize it right away, but Leon could not care less. His loyalty could not be tied to the royal family, and once off the stage, he spares no extra thought, lifting you in his arms as you yelp. He carries you the whole way despite your complaints, and even when you leave, his only words are congratulatory messages, a smile on Leon's face surely foreign to your eyes. He does not ever recall smiling as brightly at any other thing.

"You smile so brightly, my knight."

"You are free from the shackles of the crown, princess." He whispers, forehead pressed to yours. "I am yours at last."

"And if I would not have you?"

"I am at your disposal regardless." He hums.

"What will the people think?"

"Do you care? Must you care? What is there to consider when I am by your side?"

He basks in the light that you shine him in, eyes closed as his heart beats against his chest. There is a sense of peace that he finds he has only with you, quiet humming of him against your skin as he feels the vibration of his voice in his chest, quiet tune hummed aimlessly as the people around him no longer register to him. You. Just you. Only you. There would be no next or if. There would only be you, and he finds that this devotion of his would be for your keeping only. With each breath he takes, all he would know is to be you. From the breath of his life to his bones that will return to dust one day, he shall be yours. That smile of you would mean far more than whatever is to come for him one day. His heart is full. That is all that matters.

"You are right, my knight."

Leon holds onto you, sun in his hair as he smiles up at you, nose pressed to yours, heart racing in his head.

He's finally yours.

OK THAT ONE LINE "being a kennedy puts you on a hitlist and your blood runs blue" ANGELIC MAJESTIC NO WORDS.

ANDNDNDNND WHEN HE TELLS YOU WHO TRIED TO KILL YOU WHILE HES LITERALLY LIKE INSIDE YOU?? WHAT??? HELLO?? BEST IDEA EVER LIKE THAT WAS SO HOT 😍😍

anyways vivi you should be very proud of yourself because GODDAMN can never go wrong with a vivi fic!

When you run out of his work summit on the brink of tears, you can't believe that Leon hasn't picked up on how he hurt you. His only option is to apologize, but you're not listening to a word he says. So he'll just have to make you watch.

mdni i'm so serious. married f / m smut where porn is the plot THERE'S LORE I SWEAR, sour then sweet dom leon, mirror sex, EMOTIONS, aftercare :3 + 1 bad pun

a/n: anon req'd reader w/ praise kink. i really thought i did something and then i read it and i wanted to die. it isn't my writing if i don't try turning smut into shitty poetry.

word count: 2.9k // read on ao3

“I’m apologizing now, aren’t I?”

“A little late for that, Agent Kennedy,” you seethe. 

Your metronome heels keep time with the irate pounding of your heartbeat. This California Ritz-Carlton hallway stretches like the goddamn Shining and you can’t seem to get away fast enough from your husband. He’s too damn good at his job, and you’re too smart to pretend that this dance the two of you are playing at is anything but a distraction, an impediment.

You are a distraction. You’ve been an unwelcome one all night.

So you’d cut it short yourself.

One keycard slice through the sensor and the sanctuary of your hotel room opens up to you, messy with the aftermath of black-tie preparation. You step up to the vanity; plant your palms on its wooden surface and stare straight ahead as if to admire your ruined mascara. It’s a formality, really. It’s not as if you need the mirror to remind you what happened in this room. Tonight began with indulgent kisses afraid to smudge dress shirt collars, hands squeezed for courage, Leon in perpetual pursuit of the train of your gown. Big dreams.

“You wanna talk? We can talk.” Leon shuts the door with an exasperated sigh. “Don’t make this difficult, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t do a damn thing,” you hiss. You stare daggers at his reflection.

“Really?” His shoulders drop. “Then what was all that with the storming off, the- oh baby, don’t look at me like that.” 

Leon’s arms wrap around your middle while his nose buries itself in your diamond-laced neck. He’s good at that, that sneaking thing without leaving so much as a whisper to signal where he’s going. The higher-ups at the DSO call it stealth. You just want the man you married to tell you what the hell he’s doing before he makes a fool out of you. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I swear,” he whispers, kissing softly down your neck. “Didn’t mean it at all, I’m sorry. What’d I do?”

You scoff. 

He’s testing the waters. A rough thumb finds and starts running down the divot of your spine, thank you backless Mirror Palais ballgown. Pass the smoking gun back and forth, pretend not to see the shrapnel from the bullet holes. You don’t pay Leon any heed as you stoically unhook diamond pendants from your ears, and he frowns.

“I said I was sorry.” 

“I shouldn’t need to tell you what you did, Leon.” 

Shame simmers sickly and strong in the pit of your stomach. You teeter on the edge of snapping altogether and consider throwing his blankets on the floor for the night – you will, actually, as soon you take off all your evening regalia. In your haste, your nails end up nicking Leon’s nose when he tries to murmur another weightless apology.

The kisses stop leaching onto your collarbone. “Don’t play this game with me, sweetheart.” 

“So now you’re calling me immature?”   

“Isn’t that what you call running out of my work summit? Making me chase you down?” Leon counters, running his hands down your sides in a last-ditch effort to diffuse the situation. Thinly-veiled irritation finally seeps into his tone. “What exactly did I do?”

And gosh, does that get the tears going. He’s so blind it hurts.

You tug pins furiously out of your hair in an effort to keep an impending outburst at bay. “You practically had me on a leash!”

Not once had he let you out of his sight in that dreadful ballroom. In front of all those international representatives and agents, people whose reputations preceded them, Leon had kept you attached to him with a heavy hand on your waist, glued to his hip like an untrustworthy child he’d lose track of at a supermarket. Coughs had quickly turned to snickers behind your back. You’re no agent, sure, but you could expect to have some kind of autonomy, right? 

The guest badge you’d flung over the hotel room bed glints tauntingly now, respected by every security detail except the one whose chest your back is currently pressed against. It’s humiliating how untrustworthy, how incapable he made you look tonight.

Leon blinks. “You’re saying I think you can’t handle yourself?”

“You don’t have to. You showed me all night.” 

Tears drip down your cheeks when he relents, his arms lifting like fog over the Golden Gate, and if you’re finally free from his clutches, you might as well take off this suffocating dress. It’s gauzy and gorgeous and completely worthless despite the stack of bills Leon paid for it, however giddy you’d been when he’d brought it home. 

If only you could reach the tiny zipper perched on your tailbone. 

Leon, ever the perceptive one, however, never passes up an opening whether it be zipped or not. He’s got a handy index and thumb; he puts them to use. He’s your husband after all. 

“Right, okay,” he exhales sharply, tugging the chain as your back bows forward, “I did this all wrong. I thought you’d catch on when I should’ve just shown you instead.”

“Show me what?”

A hand inside your newly agape gown. A palm pivoting south to the curve of your hip, pressing, searching. Leon presses his lips to your neck in answer, but this time, it’s urgent in a way that doesn’t quite feel like remorse. He hisses.

“Tell me to stop and I fucking will, but this is my last resort considering how bad I seem to be with my words, sweetheart. How many times have I told you I’m sorry?”

“You-”

A squeeze on your hip. A direction. 

“I need a number.”

The door, your neck, seconds ago.

“...three.”

“And not one of them made it inside that pretty head of yours,” Leon scowls. “Doesn’t look like words are either of our strong suits. Chin up for me, doll, and pay attention ‘cause I’m only asking this once.”

So you do, you lift your face to meet mascara-rimmed eyes in the mirror along with Leon’s sapphire-blue ones that glint right behind, and his palm drifts up to cup your jaw from underneath. He tilts it back and forth. Kisses his teeth. 

“Tell me. How am I supposed to let my wife loose in a room full of criminals just like that?”

What?

Leon circles your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, pulling away quickly. Too early to indulge in this kind of affection. “Thought I asked you something, doll.”

But you hesitate, and so Leon must disappear. His final instructions are to face forward.

He dives to the floor, locking rough fingers around your ankles only to slide them up to the backs of your shins. He goes under so quick that there’s a breeze; you’re granted mere seconds to watch Leon’s blond head duck underneath the floor-length train of your dress and by then, it’s far too late to notice the fire. 

Leon loves starting those.

He also doesn’t wait. Invisible flames lick up your bare legs from Leon’s dragon mouth. Red hot kisses trail up your thighs – he drops a sweet one on the inside of your right knee, makes you buckle momentarily – and these stubbled kisses of his have a tendency to sear any skin on their skyward path. You can’t remember when your elbows propped themselves on the vanity, out of instinct, maybe, to keep the floor of your stomach from falling out at the very first sneak of Leon’s tongue inside the drenched lace gusset of your panties. 

But you can’t afford to be surprised, can you? Not with the line of destruction he’s left behind on his way to his destination. They say it takes one to know one. 

You clutch the edge of the vanity’s shelf. Suck down sobs in your throat fluttering into something indecent.

“I need you to talk to me,” he whispers with his lips pressed to your pussy. The vibration echoes up your spine, jerks your head back. “You’re all clammed up. Keeping secrets.”

Air gushes down your throat. “And you’re not?” 

“Of course I am, baby, but I’m explaining, aren’t I?” 

Kiss. Kiss. Suck. 

You keen with your mouth shut.

He noses at your clit, prompting you. “So, where’s your explanation?”

Another quality the DSO prides itself on is your husband’s ability to sweet-talk himself out of a tight spot. That seems to includes in between your legs. Your thighs clench together in a final attempt of defiance when his mouth makes contact with your cunt. Your reflection in the mirror starts to swim at the first swirl of Leon’s tongue, and he makes quick work of you with his goal being none other than to dangle the promise of more to come, literally. 

Thumbs tuck into sensitive folds, and you’re gone. Shaking at the first breach of Leon’s fingers inside you. You spread apart at his will. He dips into arousal now impossible to ignore, and when sparks finally light at the hot air Leon blows over your spasming pussy, he commits his second unforgivable sin of the night: ducking right back out at the crest of your orgasm.

You have principles. The mirror reflects Leon’s swollen lips, tousled hair damp with you when he rises from his knees, and above all this, you clench your teeth. Face forward. 

He wipes his mouth.

“That’s one.” 

The other two remain rhetorical.

You’re being lifted bridal-style when the seal on your mouth finally breaks. “Leon,” you tremble in his arms, “where are we?” The summit, the people; you chase his mouth for any explanation. “You’re working with criminals now?” 

“Yes and no. Arms up,” Leon rasps, and tugs down what remains of your gown, crashes his mouth onto yours. 

You taste yourself in his kiss. Surely that’s not an answer, is it?

“Tonight was a mission,” he continues in his feverish haste, quickly laying your naked body onto the bed before kissing down your breasts.

 Pride gets tossed on the floor next to your undergarments, his crumpled dress shirt. 

“The DSO couldn’t guarantee you wouldn’t become collateral for this mission if things went south and I didn’t want to risk it. So I took you with me.” 

“You brought me to a- oh! ” 

Two thick fingers push into your sopping cunt. You squeal, clutch the sheets. Leon presses the ribbed flesh nestled deep inside you, carving out room for himself from his kneel at the foot of the bed. He gouges deep and you writhe. Your arousal shimmers on his fingers when he finally pulls them out and you find that have nothing to say about that.

“Go on,” he coos lowly. “Don’t get quiet now.” 

Your head whirls. “You sh-should’ve told me they were dangerous.”  

“And where do you think that would’ve gotten us, sweetheart? I didn’t want you panicking. Blowing cover. I had you to take care of and intel to gather, I couldn’t think straight myself. Letting you out of my sight could’ve meant losing you.”

Fuck. You don’t need a mirror to remember how antsy Leon had been before going down to the ballroom. 

Hands squeezed for courage. Hand on your waist. 

The vanilla and leather on his skin had reeked of nerves, and you? You’d written it off.

“I wanted to keep you safe.” Leon looks up at you now, eyes glinting in the dim light. There’s a new softness in their blue depths, a sincere apology. “I just wish you'd believe me.” 

By all intents and purposes, Leon Scott Kennedy is sorry.

There’s been a lapse in judgment. Your elbows sit you up from the bed to fix it. Cupping his cheek, you lean forward to meet Leon’s waiting mouth in a long overdue embrace, one he can melt into with relief. There’s no bitterness on your tongue now. Just sweetness in the seconds you take to breathe your forgiveness into him. The clink of his falling belt promises no punishment.

“But you can’t let me off the hook just yet,” Leon murmurs when he tugs free from your latch on his bottom lip, “I hurt you, angel, and I never wanted to. Tell me I can fix it.”

He can. Your husband can fix everything, the world included. You sigh your approval, yes, yes, more, because forgiveness feels incredible as he lays your shoulders down, sets your hips straight when you twist them the first time he teases his cock’s weeping head over the soaked seam of your pussy. 

“Don’t take your eyes off the mirror for a second,” Leon instructs.

He plants his palms on the sides of your head. You whimper; swear you won’t.

“I mean it. Watch yourself, and maybe then you’ll understand how crazy you drive me.”

So begins your descent. 

You’re drowning, crying for air when Leon sinks into the liquid warmth you’ve saved for him. There’s so much of him to take, tight, tight, tight – your mind is a melting record. You’re breaking. Can’t disappoint him again. When your overwhelmed cunt nearly pushes him out, Leon just chuckles. He cants his hips to compensate, goes at it again. That should be enough to tell you how the DSO’s finest agent never lets a detail go amiss. 

“The Belgium ambassador started tailing you by the fountain." 

And to your astonishment, he starts rattling off half the world map. 

“Got rid of him quick. Then there was a – oh, sweetheart, you’re gonna kill me – Swedish agent, don’t remember what I did to him.” 

A roll of his hips. Your nails down his back. 

“Someone from Germany tried to dose your champagne. Another from Argentina, shit, ” his thrusts grow erratic the longer the list grows, “two from Russia, a Japanese spy – perfect fucking pussy, oh my God…”

Your husband takes you on a trip around the globe. He’d traveled to the ends of the earth in that ballroom, kept your back bulletproof with just his hand, the one that was once a collar to you. Turns out being a Kennedy puts you on a hitlist; makes your blood run blue. 

“Too much!” you sob.

You can’t take the responsibility. 

But here in the dark, here with Leon, there’s just pleasure. Opulence. The back of his head is a blond crown in the vanity mirror, the diamonds on your breasts sparkle with each bounce from Leon’s cock slamming home. Even the gooey mess you’re leaving on the chiseled marble of his lower stomach shimmers. War paint from a battle won for you.

Your head falls away from the mirror and Leon guides it back without losing his rhythm. “Mm-mm. You need to see your face when you break.” 

Never has a threat sounded so loving on anyone’s lips, you imagine. 

Your hands tangle into his hair, you grow quiet, you clench. You’re close. This, he can feel.

His lips curve into a weary grin. “Wanted you to see why I had eyes on my baby all night. My pretty girl, all mine.”

Lucky you. 

That somehow does you in. Every word of praise Leon utters makes it clear that no, he did trust you, does trust you. He trusted you enough to know you could hold your own in that lion’s den downstairs, trusts now that you’ll forgive him for a misstep born of love. And with that realization, your pleasure rides helium high. 

“Shit, Leon!” you cry.

Electric pressure builds in your sensitive bud, the one Leon rubs frantically now. Gasps from your wide open mouth sweeten the air like perfume and Leon wishes he could breathe it all in, you’re beautiful when he turns you into a wailing mess. All for him.  

“This one’s two, angel,” he groans when you flutter around him. No way. 

His cock had put you in a trance, so warm and filling is it inside you. You’d forgotten about the deal entirely. 

Your cries increase precariously in pitch. “Oh, please, please, you can’t, Leon, I have to-” 

“Hold on!” 

Leon presses you into the sheets one last time to free the pretty songbird singing his name. You sprout wings in the looking glass.

The afterglow is golden. The sunset is long gone but it glows in your hotel room all the same, wrapped in silk sheets and Leon’s arms.

“You’re beautiful like this, you know?” he hums, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. 

“What, all sweaty and gross?” You wouldn’t expect him to know. He’s gorgeous. Leon is gorgeous when he makes love to you.

He nods, laughing when you roll your eyes. “Really, you do. Enough that I had to spend half my mission clawing bad guys off you. But I got it finished, and so did you in the process, huh?” 

Leon drops a kiss to your forehead, murmuring one last I’m sorry, his fourth one.

Shit. 

You scramble to hide under the sheets, leaving him cocking his head after you in utter confusion. “Wait, wait, what’s the matter?”

“I can’t do any more, Leon, I’m gonna pass out.” 

“Do any…?”

“You only left off on two!” 

Leon snorts. You soon feel a warm press on the top of your head: a sugary, schoolboy-sweet kiss.

“There you go, baby. That’s three. Apology accepted?”

And when you poke your head out to give Leon a kiss of your own, you make sure he knows it’s for apology number four.

He shouldn’t be so surprised you noticed. It’s not like you can take your eyes off him either.

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