with this bullet lodged in my chest, covered with your name,
i will turn myself into a gun
because it's all i have,
because i'm hungry and hollow
and just want something to call my own.
; ༊ character : leon kennedy
; ༊ fandom : resident evil 9
; ༊ notes : comfort fic! quote cr : richard siken
it is difficult to forget. decades upon decades of fighting, enduring, winning and losing ( but you never quite win, he thinks, not when people have died. not when you've failed to save everyone. it'll always be a losing battle ). it is always horror rewritten : the virus in his veins, the infection in his blood, that foreign definition of life and longevity they deemed it to be, that festering black that adorned his skin, the bruises blossoming from inside and out, clashing with the silver band he wore so proudly and fondly.
it is difficult to forget. sometimes there is the feeling of safety -- he knows it most when he is with you, after all. but the danger still remains, a shadow in his mind and a darkening in the crevices of the heart.
even in his dreams, he does not escape.
he dreams of raccoon city. back when he was just a boy wonder, so naive and so hopeful. he dreams of that bloodied banner. he dreams of everything, really : every place that has ever hurt him, every place that has cause that irreversible ache in his chest. too much blood, too many guts. too many what-ifs and the wondering if he would ever survive this time around.
when he wakes, he wakes to you. your furrowed brows as you sit up in bed, looking down at him, the worry in your gaze so painfully honest and full of love and everything right with the world. you never touch him. not ever. you wait until he reaches out to you first, his hand instinctively finding yours, callouses rough and welcoming against your skin.
you don't speak for awhile, just looking at each other, your free hand gingerly cupping his cheek. he's not quite here yet, not quite present. somewhere, the past holds tight, brutal in its unwanted nostalgia. something burns in your throat, bitter ; rust-spoken words linger on the tip of your tongue. you never know what the right words are. you can only apologize for his grief so many times.
so you tell him what you told him the first time you confessed.
"...hey." the metallic taste lessens, stagnant, but known all the more. "it's wednesday and i love you."
grounding, somehow, you hope. somehow, some way. god, you hope. you really do. you find the dullness in those eyes to be so terrifying sometimes, even if it is far and few in occurrence. you wish you could rid of it, even just for a moment. you lean down, press a kiss to his temple, feel the way he trembles beneath your touch.
"it's wednesday and i love you, and you're home and safe with me, yeah?" you try to ignore the way your voice wavers. try to act like you're confident in what you're saying, like it'll mean something, like it'll work. another kiss to the temple, then his nose, then the corner of his mouth.
you don't know how long you talk for. you're not sure why you keep going. it's fact after fact. we did laundry and took a nap after, remember? and we have to go grocery shopping tomorrow. we ran out of milk. i know you hate your coffee black. i hope they'll have the brand you like.
another kiss. and another. light, never overwhelming. everything over and over again until it grounds him. until the trembling stops and he knows he is safe again.
"...it's wednesday." he finally speaks, hand squeezing yours. you love the sound of him.
"it's wednesday." you repeat. "and you love me too, hm?"
a quiet laugh, something holy and meant for worship, you think. you love him. you do.
i've hoarded your name in my mouth for months ; LOOK HOW LONG THIS LOVE CAN HOLD ITS BREATH.
; ༊ character : leon kennedy
; ༊ fandom : resident evil
; ༊ synopsis : BECAUSE THE WORLD IS FULL OF MADNESS & WRETCHED EVILS, A SURVIVOR FALLS PREY TO THE DEPTHS OF GRIEF & GUILT INTERTWINED. but in the midst of chaos, beneath the catastrophe, leon knows where his heart lies all along, knows that there is always a home to return to.
it'll always be you, he tells you. it always has been.
; ༊ notes : female reader. nsfw. MDNI. quote from sierra demulder. repost.
THE PROMISE OF A TOMORROW DOES NOT EXIST IN A WORLD WHERE THERE IS AN EVIL WALKING , the dead among the living , tragedy upon tragedy in the renewal of man and MONSTER. the promise of a future does not exist in a world where the end lingers in the shadows, hungry for doom and damnation.
leon kennedy knows of horror and loss as it flourishes in his existence, feels the end of days surge in his bloodstream, but even then, he would endure heaven and hell if it meant coming home to you.
there is no belonging without you, after all, and it is in reunion that you are both reminded of this.
YOU LOVE LIKE IT IS A DESPERATION, a need, a wanting, & you are almost afraid you will choke on this heavy desire, but you succumb to the feeling, drown in the waves. lower and lower and lower you go, mind sinking until everything has consumed you and all you know is the feeling of him inside you.
"leon--" your voice is so fragile in this moment, the longing so prominent in the way it breaks, "i need you so bad--"
it's not enough-- god, this isn't enough. the distance you have shared all these months has weighed too much on the heart, the pressure so hideously insufferable, and even with him beneath you now, your palms resting on his chest as your hips move on instinct, it's still--
god, you can't even think straight, gasps harsh and haphazard, frustration pooling between your legs no matter how much you touch him. you need him more than he needs you, but if you ever dared tell him that, you're almost sure he would spend the day desperately fucking you in means to prove you wrong. your back arches at the pleasure that rushes up your spine, but you can't chase it, thighs trembling as you sink down onto him, feel his cock hit all the right angles.
"please, i--" and you just sound so pitiful ; the whimper that escapes drips with such need that you almost sound love drunk, and maybe he'll tease you, make you do all the work, but you swallow your pride anyway because damned if you do, damned if you don't.
"easy there," he tells you, hands on your waist, voice far more gentler than the way his hips thrust up into you, "you've already got me, baby. hope you didn't forget that while i was gone."
and the way he looks at you-- there is something so excruciatingly tender in his gaze, the corner of his lips slightly raised in a knowing smile. there is something about this all that makes the tears surface before you can even realize you're crying ; maybe it's the way his hands are on you or the recognition that he's home safe and sound, or maybe it's the way you are still left wondering when he has to leave again. you swallow that lump in your throat, imagine that you can rid of that sorrow and selfishness and bite your lip so hard that the taste of rust threatens to come. but leon notices all too quickly, a faint flicker of concern on his visage as he pulls you forward until he's kissing you. it's that muddled mess of love and heartache and familiarity that binds you together, and you both wonder how you have survived this loneliness.
"you've got me." he mumbles against your lips, smiling when your body rocks against his once more at the mere words of comfort. "i'm not going anywhere, so be a good girl and show me how much you missed me."
you shudder at the way his hands fall back to your waist, lips peppering kisses along your jaw, voice low and heavy with want. you inhale, shaky, nod aimlessly as you straighten your posture, nails gently trailing down his chest as you sit up. your hand rests over his heart for a brief moment and you almost think you feel that wild beat beneath it all, remind yourself of the humanity that lies under the greatness and kindness and devastation of it all. he trembles at the feeling, laughing softly at that little spark of surprise that lights up in your eyes at his reaction. his thumbs trace lazy circles into your hips as he lightly guides your movements, allows you to take control as you find your rhythm. it's slow and agonizing and tantalizing, this dance between lovers, but leon has always been patient, watching your expressions with adoration as you find the motions, head lulled back and eyes shut as you surrender modesty and humility in sacrifice for euphoria.
patience soon turns to pleasure, dwindling self-control quickly spiraling beyond recover. leon's grip tightens as he tests the waters, resolve thinning and weakening at the sight of his forever taking all of him so well. when he slams your hips down on his, he cannot tell what he loves more: the feeling of you tightening around him or the flustered cry that he drags out of you with each thrust.
"you--" you gasp when he goes faster, feel your face heat up with shame and exhilaration at the noises that fill the bedroom. "i thought you wanted me to prove how much i--" the words die down into yet another whimper at the sound of his groans beneath you. his movements become more aggressive, needy, and he shows no sign that he's willing to be merciful. "--fuck, leon-- you wanted me to prove how much i missed you, not the other way around."
heartbeat to heartbeat, skin against skin, leon knows damn well what his request was, but you are entirely too captivating that he can't help give into his senses, urged with the need to see you come undone.
"sorry," he says, breathless, grinning when you grab his hand as if it could anchor the sanity that gets lost in the flux and flow, "i'll make up for it, angel."
with one hand holding yours, the other releases its grasp on your hip, slides up your waist, frantic touch dancing across your bare skin as it grazes your stomach, pressing firmly as you jolt in response. the sound you make causes your body to burn in embarrassment, but the way leon looks up at you almost resembles something of worship, gentle reverence in blue hues. there's something so incredibly warm in his eyes that draws you in, lures you like sirens in the seas, but before you can even think to lean down and kiss him, he wets his thumb with his saliva and brings it to your clit, the dreadfully slow drawl of the circular motions making you lose your senses entirely.
you're biting your lip again, unable to silence yourself at the newfound high that sends tingles through your body, makes your skin feel like it's on fire.
"you're doing it again." leon tells you, and somewhere in the softness and concern in his voice is an underlying command to relax and give in.
you want to blame him, tell him that your first thought was to cover your mouth, silence all those filthy noises you didn't know you could make. it's his fault, you decide, because he knew exactly what you would do and held your hand tighter because he wanted to hear you. it takes you a little too long to regain your composure, but the moment you think to speak, he's picking up the paces again. you feel him so much, feel the way he fills you up as he thrusts in and out at a sickening sweet pace.
now you're the one squeezing his hand like your life depends on it and it takes everything for you to not move away, because it's all an overload on your senses-- the fullness of it all and the way his thumb applies just the slightest bit more pressure on your clit, movements quickening.
you're so close, so close so close -- and he knows this, intends to be the reason for your undoing and ruin, so he tells you it's okay, that you can let go and that you're doing so well for him, taking him so good just like he knew you would. he tells you that he misses you, misses the feeling of you, and maybe those declarations are what pushes you over the edge when you finally come, throat ravaged and raw from all the moans and pleas that spill from your lips. it's the way you clench around him, body twitching as you ride that high out, feel him follow you soon after in desperation.
his movements slow, eventually come to a stop. the silence in the bedroom is deafening -- a significant contrast to what it was minutes before, save for the labored breaths that fill the air.
something snarky lingers on the tip of your tongue, but when you open your eyes and look down at him, he's looking at you like that again -- like he's learning what love is again, like he's realizing all over again that you're his happiness, his end game, his ever after, and your mind goes blank, the haze of euphoria all too powerful. so instead, you let out a shaky exhale, smile blithely as you lean down and kiss him.
it's careful, cautious-- quiet, reverent, wanting. it's love, you think, and he tastes like safety and divinity and all you've ever wanted. you lie on top of him for god knows how long, fatigue settling in as his hand wanders up and down your back, slowly lulls you to the edge of slumber.
"i missed you, leon."
he presses a kiss against your temple, tells you he reciprocates the feeling tenfold, pulls the blanket over your bodies to shield you from the cold air.
"...love you." you mumble, body relaxing against his in the surrendering to exhaustion. "might fall asleep on top of you, sorry."
"right where you belong." leon laughs when you absentmindedly smack his chest, words of protest dying down when he holds you closer, warmth shared and known. "love you, too."
; ༊ character : leon kennedy
; ༊ fandom : resident evil 9
; ༊ notes : post-game. leon and reader are married. 5 min writing exercise!
it doesn't occur to you that leon's home. home. the word feels foreign : unfamiliar, a stranger in being, something too distant and out of reach to know. feels surreal, feels right and wrong, feels like it's all to good to be true.
that terrifies you.
it doesn't occur to you that leon's home. not even when he first steps foot into the place you both deem sanctuary. not when he takes his hand in yours. not when you trace the lines of his palm, the echoes of his past and horrors erased from his flesh. not when your trembling fingers ghost over his wedding band. not after you shower together, his body against yours as he holds you in quiet desperation to remember what it means to know and recognize safety all over again.
it doesn't occur to you that leon's home. not until you're back in bed together for the first time in months, his warmth entangling with yours. not until he smiles at you, tired and worn and aching but healthy and safe. he's got that brightness in his eyes again-- something you missed so dearly, and maybe it's when you recognize it that you realize the person you love has come back to you. or maybe it's the moment he says your name-- maybe it's the way he says it, like it's always meant to be on his tongue, like you've always been his forever and his endgame.
maybe. you don't really know. all you know is that he's alive and breathing and that he's here with you.
"...you're home." your voice cracks. you see the way his lips curve ever so slightly, almost teasingly, but he notes the way your eyes turn glossy, the way you try to fight tears, so he doesn't push. not now.
I AM NOT A VIOLENT DOG / BUT I KNOW EXACTLY WHY I BITE.
; ༊ character : sukuna
; ༊ fandom : jujutsu kaisen
; ༊ notes : NSFW / MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
modern verse / reincarnation!au ( not heavily plot relevant ). nothing is specified about reader. abstract writing, just a tiny smidge of smut, and probably ooc sukuna, you have been warned!
quote cr : isle of dogs.
& BENEATH THE MOONLIGHT , THERE IS :
DESPERATION , DAUNTING ( our fates have always been intertwined, and yet-- ) : sukuna realizes that it is never enough to just see you. not now, not back then, never. to see and not touch is the punishment of the self, the utmost deprivation of carnal being and connection, and so in every moment of reunion, his calloused fingers seek the warmth of your skin underneath his.
( tender. fragile. in this life and every one prior. )
he understands the passage of time too well. it is a familiar friend and foe : one that takes you away and brings you back to him every single time. you lose your place by his side, the place in which you belong as his, always his-- only for him to search for you near and far until he finds you again.
it is soul-shredding ; it is serenity. stagnant and swaying, simultaneous.
it is pleasure and pain, one in the same. the loss and the gain, the goodbye and the hey, you've kept me waiting too long again.
( you laugh every time, joyful. he smiles. it is easier to see the happiness in his eyes more than anything. thank you for finding me again, you always tell him. )
THE ACHE IN WANTING ( you'll know me in every life, the feeling of my claws against your skin ) : sukuna fucks you like he's about to lose you. he always does. but tonight is different-- tonight holds more desperation, more fervor, and you cannot help but laugh softly-- a miracle in itself with the way you can barely catch your breath.
"relax," you murmur, hand cupping his face as you kiss the corner of his mouth, "we have all the time in the world."
he doesn't listen ( he never does ). he raises a brow, gives you that mildly disgruntled look as his pace shifts. his hips rock against yours, slow. steady. he leans down, grabs your jaw-- not tender, but not harsh. enough to command you to listen.
"all the time in the world?" too slow. all too steady, the way he fucks into you, the way he fills you until you're all he knows. closer, until his lips ghost the shell of your ear. "how much time left until we have to move on from this world? until i have to find you and bring you back to me like i always do?"
you can't count how many lifetimes you have spent together through the ages. four? five? no, not five. perhaps it was actually--
your breath hitches as his palms rest against the back of your thighs, pushing and pushing until you're right where he wants you, all open and wet and slick with your longing and his aching. he's rough, but not brutal. it's not enough to hurt, the stretch. never.
you can't even bother to voice your protest, knees touching your chest as he admires you. he grins something softer than that malevolence you knew so long ago, leaning in even more as he pushes deeper and deeper into you, watching how your brows furrow, lips parting as you make that sound he loves so much. it's cruel, the way he teases you, pulling out almost all the way, but it's even crueler that you cannot find the words to beg, your body doing so in the absence of your pleas. you whimper, clenching around him so tightly he cannot help but groan, easing back into you like your body was meant for his.
"all the time in the world." he says again, voice lower and strained as he fucks you harder than before. his hands move to your hips, nails digging into your flesh. "all the time in the world and i still fuck you like it's the end of it." he hums, musing. "you wouldn't want it any other way, would you?"
( you whimper in response, your desire coating his cock as he pumps into you faster and faster, holding you tighter, nails etching marks into your skin.
it's familiar, that feeling.
you have always missed it dearly. )
LOYALTY ( and something akin to the feeling of love, anyway ) : sukuna knows that there will never be enough of you. in every breath, every waking moment, you are all he wants, all he needs. in the dark hours, you look even more beautiful bathed in the moonlight : your body covered in a thin sheen of sweat, the remnants of him on your stomach. you shiver when he tends to you, the towel gentle across your skin, trembling limbs aching in protest and pleasure alike.
"stop smirking."
he huffs softly, amused, handing you a bottle of water as you drink.
it's silent for a long while, filled with something a little heavier, a little more intimate. he sets aside the bottle and the towel, ignoring your complaints as he plops straight on top of you, mindful to not crush you with his weight.
"heavy."
"comfortable." he corrects you, hand running up and down your side. "you like this." a pause. "you like me."
you shudder from his touch once more, protests falling silent as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him a little tighter as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, seeking out all he knows.
"i do like you." you say. "just a little bit." silent, again. nostalgia blooms, lodges itself and all the things you want to say in your throat. "all the time in the world." your words are quieter now, fingers tracing circles into his flesh, tender, like something cherished. like something that has always been worshiped.
"all the time in the world," he repeats, lips pressing against your pulse point, then along your jaw, "and i'd give it all to you."
( in every life?
in every life. you have to ask that?
no. but i like to. [ a hum, then the quiet ]. thank you for finding me, always.
always. )
; ༊ character : alhaitham
; ༊ fandom : genshin impact
; ༊ notes : HAPPY BIRTHDAY tumblr user @popheartz it is such a pleasure to see you grow AAAAAAAA mwah
on the morning of your birthday, alhaitham kisses you. one kiss on the head, then the temple. then the forehead. one, two, three, four, five, six--
you're not used to such levels of affection from him. one kiss has always been enough to make your heart flutter, always slow and deep and filled with all the things he seldom says. but these kisses are light and airy, gentle reminders of all the affection his heart holds for you. you begin laughing softly, hands on his shoulders as he pins you down in the bed you've shared for years.
"wait," you manage, catching your breath, "are you giving me a kiss for--"
"for every year you've been alive?" a kiss on the corner of your lips. close, but not close enough. "yes. was it obvious?"
your hands cup his face ( more like pinch it, really ), but you don't have it in your heart to even act mildly annoyed. you pull him closer, lips meeting his with utmost tenderness. you feel the hand on your waist tighten, feel the way he presses his body against yours just the slightest bit, just a little more so he can feel all of you.
"you never kiss me that much."
he raises a brow, questioning.
"i kiss you plenty."
"consecutively, i mean."
"ah. should we try for twenty four today, then? break our record?"
"no." you laugh when he kisses you again, lips brushing against your pulse point. "you'll make me age faster."
"that's not how it works."
"it does. i said so. birthday rights."
"hm. i'll allow it for today." another kiss, tender, against your lips. it's warm and it's love and it's everything you could ever ask for, spending yet another year with the person you adore. "happy birthday."
titsay
jacobvanloon
areudirty
turnnoffyourmind
kianamaiart
tangentwithtanner
yousharknotpass
dailybridgerton