Softly Moving Towards A More Personal Moment Between The Two And Embracing The Beauty Of Being Able To Be Together In Every Way - Tumblr Posts

Hello Violet! I’m new to your blog and i fell for your writing style 💜, Can I request some fluff Leonardo (ikevamp)? Anything you want to write, just make it fluffy. Thank you! 🫐

A/N: Here you go! I hope you like it 💜

Leonardo x reader

This is.....sort of meta 😉

Word Count: 1024

You’re sitting on Leonardo’s bed, letter in hand. Night has come to the mansion, bringing with it a sky full of glittering, winter stars and a sliver of bright moon visible through the window. You can feel the cold radiating from the glass, icy fingers that have you tug Leonardo’s warm caramel-colored sweater closer to your body. Of course, it’s far too big but you love it for the times when he isn’t with you. It feels a bit like wrapping yourself in the ghost of his embrace. Now, by candlelight, you read the request a few times, frowning as you try to come up with a scenario that could fulfill it. It’s actually nothing you haven’t done before but how to make it interesting? Different?

Leonardo strolls in, Lumiere tucked under one arm like a sack of grains. He’s muttering in Italian and Lumiere is glaring in Cat. The moment he is set down, he dashes as fast as his paws will take him toward his man cave somewhere amongst the papers and books and scrolls under Leonardo's desk. “Monello,” Leo mutters before turning his golden eyes to you. Ah, just the thing to put him in a better mood.

“Cara mia, should I tell you what the little brat did?” He readies himself to tell the story of Lumiere and a flock of extremely aggressive geese, already thinking over the various ways he could begin but you are glued to your letter and murmur a faint “Uh huh” in his direction.

Hmmm. An Italian brow raises in suspicion. What are you reading?

He moves closer to you. You are thinking something over; he can tell by the way you’re drumming your fingers against your thigh, mirroring the whirring cogs of your brain. Maybe he can distract you, win your attention with sensuality, he thinks as he slowly removes his jacket, stepping right into your line of sight.

But no matter how slowly the jacket is peeled away from his broad shoulders and muscular arms or how many buttons he opens on his soft white shirt, you do not look up. The situation is dire indeed. He lowers himself behind you on the bed, admitting defeat as he rests his chin on your shoulder, peering at the paper that has you so entranced.

“What is this? It must be riveting if you can ignore the sight of me removing clothing.”

Sighing, you reach back with one hand and ruffle his soft ombre hair, inhaling his familiar scent of smoke and parchment. “You know Stumbler, the literary magazine I sometimes contribute to.” He nods, chin still resting on your shoulder, on the soft wool of his own sweater. One arm winds its way around your waist, holding you against him, his larger body at your back casting a spell of comfort and protection.

“Well they sometimes dole out requests to the contributors and I’ve been given one that wants a sweet, romantic story.”

He grins slowly, sneaky fingers climbing their way over the woven fabric of his sweater, sliding it off of your shoulder. For good measure he also pulls down the wide strap of your nightgown, leaving your shoulder bare. He nuzzles the skin he has just exposed.

It appears he has a new tactic to capture your attention.

“You know how to write those, yeah? You’ve done it many times before.”

His breath tickles your skin, raising goosebumps along your arms.

“Yes but they are asking for a character who I have written a lot of romantic stories for. The question is,” you pause as your brain momentarily forgets what it is trying to communicate. He’s pressing feather-soft kisses along your bare shoulder, moving toward the sensitive slope of your neck. “The question is,” you repeat, your voice dropping as a shiver runs through you, “what can I do that would be new and interesting?”

“Mmmm,” he practically purrs, his arm tightening around your middle, holding you to him as his mouth reaches the line of your neck. “What about…slow dancing?” He nips at your skin and you gasp, aware of how fast your heart has started pounding, how warm you’re beginning to feel.

“Done that,” you murmur, your head tipping to the side, allowing him more access.

“Cuddling in bed,” he says before leaving a trail of languid, heated kisses along the elegant line of your neck, all the way up to your ear.

“Also done.” The words are more breathy air than anything but you’re amazed you even manage that.

The sweater has somehow been removed and curled up on the floor next to the bed. It doesn’t matter really, since you are warm, heat rippling through your veins at an alarming rate. He traces the shell of your ear with his tongue, the hand holding you against him tightening its grasp.

“Maybe, cara mia, you need some inspiration, yeah? Maybe…” he draws out the word as his teeth catch your earlobe. “…I can help.”

There is only so much brain power left in you before pure lust takes over. A shudder rolls through you. He already has you shaking and he hasn’t even kissed you yet.

“Leonardo.” Why does his name sound more like a moan than a word? You grasp at the last remaining strings of logic dangling in your mind. “It’s supposed to be romantic….not….salacious….”

“Well…,” he whispers, his rich voice soft, inviting. One hand slides across your abdomen and then upward to the buttons of your nightgown, the ones that stand no chance against his nimble fingers. “Cara mia…..” His other hand captures your face, turning it so that he can lower his mouth until it hovers just over yours. “Why not…..” His lips brush strokes of fire against yours. “….both?”

He kisses you intently, stopping you from answering as he claims the full attention of your mouth.

Your last coherent thought is: Both? Both is good. Yes, both is very, very good.

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