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eidolic chpt 111: dysmetropsia

chpt.1 || chpt.2 || chpt.3

ao3 crosspost

vampire!leon s. kennedy x f!reader

18+ MINORS DNI. if you do not have your age on your blog you will be blocked, you must be 18+ to interact with and follow this content.

disclaimers; dark fic, ooc leon (don’t harass me for him being ooc, it’s a canon divergent au, he’s going to be ooc), romantic!leon, detailed descriptions of injuries, murder, blood drinking, more angst, smut, masochism, dubious consent (only at times), honestly he’s kind of a pervert, dacryphilia, themes of purity, loss of virginity, unsafe sex, i think that’s all…?? i lost track

word count; 15.8k

please excuse any typos or general/grammatical errors </3

The crack of furious thunder rings deafeningly in your ears, making them ring something high pitched and painful. The uneven ground ahead could be likened to that of a battlefield, swamped with mud and worse but still you wade on like it’s a compulsion. You had been running for as long as you could remember, but from what you don’t even know, it’s like you woke up in this torturous loop and couldn’t will your body to stop, a zombie with no free thought. Sharp aches were burdening your legs and lungs like each panting gasp was laced with splinters but by some force of nature you keep going. Going over ditches and fences, wading through swamped, dead grass and puddles of viscous red that confused the mind. Until your ankle twists under you and you trip.

Your feet are pulled out from underneath you and your momentum throws you to the dirt in a sad pile of self, winding you on impact. You try to gasp down sharp breaths and look down at your sullied state, finding the white nightgown you wear ruined with streaks of black mud and blood. Wait… Blood? Hiking the length of the fabric up your legs you see your knees scraped and split open, bruised and bleeding, and when you reach to wipe away the smear of sickly red you notice your hands have fared no better. The skin of your palms is shredded like a razor blade had been taken to them and little stones of debris cling to the wound, wedged in the flow of crimson. You wince and hiss while pulling the pieces loose from your skin with dirty fingernails, each one causing a sharp spike of pain.

A daunting shadow is cast over your crumpled form and tears gather fast at your lash line, like a stinging ache at the backs of your eyes. When you cast your gaze up the sight you’re met with startles you enough to make you jump out of your skin and shuffle backwards in the mud. It’s a statue, a grandiose work of carrara marble that towers menacingly above you. It depicts a human figure that has been upscaled in height, perhaps reaching twelve feet, that stands on a plinth of another five or so. The whole thing is polished to perfection, a shining white that blinds your watery eyes and you have to blink away the tears that blur your vision to bring the work of art into focus, like wiping rain from a camera lens.

The figure depicted in stone wears a thin drape that bunches around the neck and hips, flowing much like an amateurly worn toga to cover the left leg and crotch. Despite the rigidity of the carving the appearance of the material it is adorned with is deceptively soft, the work of a professional that knows how to trick the mind. Though the drape is minimal, leaving the majority of the torso and the right leg unshielded. Beneath it a toned body is displayed, a strong young man with chiseled musculature, perhaps an athlete or mythic hero. But thanks to the height of the statue you struggle to see its face and the blanket of night helps none.

However, there is a plaque on the plinth. You rise to stand on blistered feet and trudge over to the stair that pushes the art even further into the skyline. But as you step up you trip over yourself and very nearly fall back to the floor. Something had rolled under the arch of your foot, something rough enough to hurt, and when you look you see a small wooden ball tumble off the edge of the ledge. Right next to where it had rested was a shoddy carving, clearly not one made by the sculptor and rather the work of a vandal, that read L.S.N.

You kick the ball into the plinth and watch it bounce back to the mud, landing with a thick squelch. You grumble a quivered curse before you approach the mounted plaque and find it is thickly veiled by dust and grime, unreadable, but since the sleeves of your gown are already ruined by worse elements you find no issue in using it as a rag to clear the lettering. Stepping back you find that it reads:

“Sono orgoglioso di te, figlio mio.”

Built in commemoration, 1346.

Lord Leonardo Ó Maoilriain.

Leonardo? That’s awfully similar to… You read the plaque over again. And again. And once more for good measure, as if expecting it to suddenly change between blinks, before you step away from the plinth and cast your gaze up the length of the sculpture. It takes a few cautious steps until you’ve put enough distance between yourself and it in order to finally see the expertly carved face of the figure that’s true to life, or rather death.

Your heart sinks into your stomach and your hands fly to wrap around yourself, recoiling like you had been punched in the gut. You stagger backwards and only narrowly avoid tumbling back to the dirt, staring at the plaque in disbelief like its lettering told venomous lies. 1346…? That was centuries ago. But the statue… It looks exactly like Leon. Though, if it were, then how did it get here? And where is here?

Nothing is adding up and it makes you long to surrender and abandon your impetus to go on. But the compulsion speaks again, you must continue forward.

When you hurriedly stagger around the statue, leaving it and its mysteries behind, everything around you seems to spin with you at the epicentre and you could swear the ground ahead of you stretches out and away, shrinking to the horizon in a blur. As you try to follow its path it continues to contort like a house of illusions, the world reframing itself as you traverse it. Bumps in the road grow to be towering hills while puddles shrink and cease to exist then reopen into deep pools at a moment's notice. Your state of distress is spiraling all too literally and the ground ripples beneath you in a wave to knock you back to your grazed knees. It’s like you were suffering from dysmetropsia.

But ahead you can see a clearing in the clouds, like one spot is encompassed by a safe halo where serenity is being kept under lock and key. You sprint for it, the wind and rain whipping at your face but you can’t feel it as you’re benumbed to the absurdity.

When you reach the threshold of the clearing your heart sinks, for right in the middle is the house, the one with the unruly tree growing inside where you had taken shelter the night you were found. It looks different without the harassment of the storm and the night sky above it is now clear of any foulness, a rich blanket of navy that spans for an eternity. And as you look up you’re elated to find the familiar winter constellations shining down at you. You stare at them, allowing your heartbeat to mellow and body to calm under the twinkling tranquility.

But then a bloodcurdling scream rings out and sabotages the silence. The constellations blur and warp like a ripple of water in the same wonderland way the path had and disappear in the span of a blink.

It came from inside.

You don’t consciously approach the frame of the doorway, you don’t remember taking the steps to reach it, but somehow you end up at the threshold regardless. Before you so much as look inside you can hear something egregious. It’s like an animalistic, wet slurping paired with gruff grunts and the drag of something heavy. The ruckus alone makes you feel sick to your stomach but even more so does the scent that drifts past your nostrils. Fresh blood.

Stupidly, you look inside.

If it wasn’t for the way your breath was stolen from you you would’ve screamed that same scream. Because it was yours to begin with. A reflection, or rather clone, of you lies slumped in the corner of the house where you sheltered that night. Your blood is pooling on the floorboards, rich, red and seeping off the edge of the wood to soak into the packed dirt of the floor, returning to the land. Your clothes have been torn and evidently pulled at, a sign of a struggle having occurred, and your backpack has been hurled across the room with careless abandon. Your eyes are glazed over, limbs limp, and latched at your neck is… Leon.

He withdraws and allows you a full view, too engrossed to notice your second self standing in the doorway. His irises, usually that dusky blue, are a threatening ruby red like the one that hangs around his neck as a pendant. His ruffled white shirt is far from pristine now, soaked in the crimson of you, and the same rich colour is smeared all down the lower half of his face. His lips and chin are coated in your blood that spills down his neck in a sloven stream and his mouth is pulled into a scowl, teeth bared like an animal. And they’re sharp, vampiric fangs.

A breathless gasp escaped your lips with tears streaming down your cheeks and an overwhelming impulse to throw up. Leon licks his lips and looks at you with a blank, murderous stare that you would expect only from a beast and never a man. He grins wide and again flashes those monstrous teeth before ravenously biting back down into the neck of your copy, slurping salaciously before the blood runs cold…

You wake in a cold sweat, lurching up from the pillow with a silent scream. Your hand flies to the left side of your neck where an excruciatingly sharp pain paralyses your side temporarily. But beneath your fingers you feel no puncture wound, just your racing pulse.

You stare at the room ahead of you, at the bedsheets, at the mahogany corner posts with intricate carvings, the delicate curtains that hang from the beds canopy. All the things that lulled you into that false sense of security when you first woke up here and saw them. You should’ve trusted your gut instinct that fateful night, or saw the warning signs this whole fucking time. The coldness of Leon’s skin, that sharp tooth smile that indeed wasn’t a trick of the eyes, and that bottle, that ‘wine’. Your nose knew the smell of blood as soon as it hit you but your mind failed to catch up and recognise it. Did he really have you that deeply tricked? That you’d abandon the survival instinct you had trained for years the moment you were tucked into a warm bed?

The shame you feel is indescribable. To have not only failed yourself but all of those who told you tales of vampyrs and warned you of their fatal bite. How could you be so naive? Your lash line is brimming with heavy tears and all you want is to curl up under the sheets and sob until you can’t manage to anymore. But now you know it isn’t safe to do that here. Now you know you have to leave, to run and never return before you end up like your copy did in that twisted nightmare.

You throw back the covers of your bed and hurry out of them, almost tripping on the drape in your haste. The clothes you are wearing now will have to do, there’s no time to change them, just enough to throw open the wooden trunk at the end of the bed and fish out your ratty backpack. You stuff your old clothes inside of it and throw it over your shoulder, overcome with a pensive sadness at the thought of the necklace that would still be intact if you had just left it inside. It was more of a good luck charm than you ever appreciated and without it you don’t know if it’s more dangerous in here or out there…

You shake the despondent thought and slam the trunk closed, yelping a sound of surprise and recoiling back at the sight that was hiding behind the lid. The black bat, the one that had lurked in the bathroom that first night, is hanging tauntingly from the canopy of the bed and seeming to stare right at you with those shiny, bead-like eyes. Its feet are hooked around the red wood and have left trailing scratches in the carvings. For how long has it been lurking there? You narrow your eyes at it as if waiting for its own to transform again but it only cocks its head at you.

“Fuck this.” You grumble under your breath, hurrying to your feet and almost falling over yourself thanks to the sickly feeling that’s consuming you from head to toe and making you want to heave. You push it down, deep down as far as you can muster, and charge your way out of your bedroom door. The bat follows, flying over your shoulder and disappearing down the hallway ahead of you in a blur of black like a bullet fired into the distance.

You take a last look at the expansive red carpet, the vermilion walls and the intricate coving that stunned you when you first walked out here, hooked on Leon’s arm. It’s strange how that can feel so long ago when it was only yesterday, it’s as if the realisation of the truth had completely thrown off your perception of time and disconnected you from your reality. Or maybe he had done so purposefully.

A sigh escapes you, melancholic dread. The entrance, or rather exit, is straight up ahead, past the dining hall and through the foreboding entry arch and that should be it. But if Leon truly is a… Then he will be sharp, knowing, so you stick to the right wall and sprint for it, finding no patience for creeping your way along. The next moments blur into one indecipherable event. You pass the dining hall arch, round the corner and the exit is in sight, an opening into a smaller porch illuminated by sconces that guide you to the castle doors. The doors to freedom. But as you go to bound over the separating line where the wooden floor meets the concrete your feet are quite literally yanked out from underneath you.

You tumble to the floor and the blind panic sets in, the vivid image of your nightmare playing over again on the backs of your eyelids like a cruel joke. There’s a pressing, freezing weight behind you, anchoring you down in a desperate hold like a shackle. Your ears are ringing but a velvet whisper breaks through the static. “I can explain.” Leon. You thrash wildly in his hold but his arms that cling around your waist are much stronger than your own. Kicking proves to be futile too and his grip only tightens like a vice,

“No!” You squirm, trying to elbow him in the chest. “I know what you are! I won’t be tricked anymore!” But his chest is pressed firmly to your back and the coldness of his skin is overtaking you, encompassing your feeble body and making you lethargic as you begin to shiver. When you open your eyes you find yourself facing the staircase and from the railing hangs that blasted bat. It again cocks his head as if it were smugly satisfied to see the unfolding struggle. But that means…

“Darling, please.” Leon begins to beg, his voice cracking and strained. “I have no desire to hurt you. Only to protect you. If you would just allow me to explain. I do not know what you saw but I assure you that there has been a misunderstanding.” He doesn’t raise his tone but the quivering of his words makes his panic apparent. His voice falls stronger, demanding, but you refuse to play into its deceitful melody. Not this time.

“No! Why would I believe you now?” Your heart is beating so fast that it’s making you dizzy and you can feel a headache coming on. The need to persist, to survive, is taking over your every thought but your writhing gets weaker and your kicks more infrequent, like the strength and iciness of his hold is weighing your body down into surrender. You shudder deeply. “Please! You don’t understand! I need you here, my dear. You will be safer with me, here, if you would just listen to me.” He pleads, panting as heavily if not heavier than you are. But a hostile growl lingers under the words, inadvertently telling you what he’s capable of.

You scoff through a sob and dig your nails into his arm that cages around your midriff, making him cry out in sudden agony. You watch with wide, unbelieving eyes as his skin seems to smoulder and burn beneath your own. Having foregone his shirt Leon’s pale skin is exposed and when you take the time to study him you see a littering of ghastly scars all along his forearms. Crescent shapes, trailing scratches, some even look like human bites but all look like signs of struggle and distress. Leon trashes behind you when you don’t relent your grip and you stare in awe at the way your touch leaves a permanent mark on his body, a light, almost white scar in the shape of your fingertips.

“Darling- Stop that! Just fu-ucking listen to me!“

Realising that you can harm him so easily, and potentially could have done the whole time, it makes the rapidfire of your heart slow a fraction. You hadn’t even needed the measly necklace. Now that you think about it he never did touch you without the protective cover of clothing besides when you took his hand and he seemed to trip over himself. You had thought he was just being gentlemanly. But this means that his promise that first night was true, though it also means he really is a vampire. You had been avoiding the thought, the admittance, but now that you know he holds no power over you the nasty gut feeling you had is seemingly dissipated somewhat.

Leon groans a cry of complaint behind you, squeezing you tighter against him. “Angel,” he grumbles through gritted teeth, evidently worn down. “Please I- I’m asking you to be civilised-“ It sounds like he’s crying, pitifully stuttering through quivering words and his hands that are locked around you tremble in the same manner. Some might call it sadistic but it’s making you feel emboldened.

He just can’t lose you. For the first time in many centuries he began to know what it means to be liberated from loneliness. Being around you, someone so sweet and pure, has been the only thing to lull and even silence the screaming guilt and monstrous impulses that plague his mind with each ticking hour, to allow him to step back into his humanity that he so desperately wants to cling onto. Even just knowing that there was someone else in the castle, albeit in a different room or doing something else, eased his burdened body and soul. Because loneliness takes a toll that only the presence of another can pay back, and Leon isn’t ready to return to the crippling reality he had faced for so long and he never would be, not now that he has known what it means to coexist with you and began to fall for you like a hopeless fool.

“Go on.” You say tersely, spitting the words meanly and leaning back against him unthinkingly like your bodies were giving into each other before your minds dared to. “I’m listening, Leon.” He takes a deep breath in and hooks his chin over your shoulder, his lips ghosting beside your ear. “Please understand that I don’t want to hurt you. I am no monster nor villain.” He’s getting choked up on the words. “I do what I have to, please believe that I’ve tried all the alternatives, and do it as humanely as I can. But others don’t. And if you return to the world outside these walls those others might find you and I could never live with myself if that were to happen-“

“Vampires. You mean other vampires right? Since that’s what you are?” You cut in, your tone dripping with irritation in a way that makes his heart ache. He sniffles feebly before whispering your name in a pained manner. “Yes. If that’s what you must hear then yes.” Like this he sounds so despondent, almost vexed by your switch in mannerisms. He preferred when you were pliant. “But I obviously didn’t choose this pitiful life. I don’t want to be a monster, darling, especially not in the eyes of you.”

“So if I stay here…” You begin, immediately making him light up as you hear his breath hitch in anticipation. “Then what? You protect me and I just lurk here forever? Doomed to boredom or something?” The playfulness is slowly creeping back into your timbre, nowhere near as vivid by any means, but enough to be heard. Leon scoffs a chuckle, perhaps of exhaustion. “It’s an option better than death, is it not? Besides, I’m sure I can find many ways to entertain you, my angel.”

Leon presses his nose to the soft spot just below your ear, making you wince. He breathes you in, that sweet scent he finds himself addicted to, that honeyed goodness that promises innocence. You groan a sarcastic complaint and again try to worm out of his grip. But this time he lets you go and you hurry to stand, turning on your heel to find a pathetic sight. Leon sits sprawled on the red carpet of the hallway, his silvery hair is an uncombed, tousled mess and his face looks gaunt in the lowlight with scintillating tear tracks highlighting his rosy cheeks. He has forgone his lacey dress shirt for the evening and is dressed only in his white underpants, looking up at you with wide, puppy-dog eyes. You notice that his pupils are blown too, lips parted and swollen.

“This doesn’t mean that I trust you.” You state firmly, taking a withdrawing step back. He sighs painfully, lips parting to speak but you don’t allow him to get a single word in. “I don’t trust that you won’t bite me, Leon. I don’t want to suffer the same fate as you if you can’t control yourself.” As you speak your own words begin to fade and grow quiet in your head thanks to the pounding headache plaguing you. Far too much has occurred tonight and your body is begging for rest as ever, forcing you to surrender. Perhaps he was right about the hardships you would face outside of these walls if you can barely stay awake within them, but you won’t admit to weakness nor will you admit to needing his protection. You can’t let him think that you are reliant upon him.

Another flippant grumble passes his lips as he stands, recollecting himself and carding a hand through his hair. “It would take more than my kiss to turn you, sweet thing.” Leon states calmly, stretching his tired arms above his head. They are sure to ache from the effort he exuded keeping you held. “But I understand. I, in turn, don’t trust that you won’t try to escape me again.” He takes a step towards you and outstretches his hand, a ministration that’s all too familiar as is the sight of his open palm. “Since we both have our grievances, I ask that you join me upstairs tonight. That way I can keep watch over you and you can over me too. Sound fair?”

You look him up and down, eyes narrowed and untrusting. But what choice do you have? If he wants you upstairs he could easily carry you there and after his show of strength in the face of your attempted escape you have no doubt that he would. You take his hand, intentionally pressing your fingertips against his flesh to make it sting and hopefully burn again. Leon hisses venomously before chucking. “You like doing that, don’t you?” He chides, voice quaking.

All along he had known that your touch would wound him, that he couldn’t hold you without consequence. It was supposed to be a deterrent, something to stop his pining but Lord it did not work, rather the opposite. To be loved it to be changed, they say, and the blessing of your skin on his did exactly that, changed him, permanently. Like this your touch would forever be with him and knowing that made the burn feel oneiric.

Your heart is in your throat as Leon brings your hand up, kissing over your knuckles despite the way his lips tingle with threatening warmth. “Let’s retire to bed, shall we? I think we’ve endured enough for one night, my dear.” The chill of his kiss makes your mind foggy and you allow yourself to be led up the menacing stone staircase, mindlessly following your host with heavy, tired footfalls that barely carry you up into the unexplored territory of the castle that must now be your home.

Upstairs it is pitch black, darkness swallows every corner and you instinctively hoard closer to Leon like he were a guiding light. He huffs in amusement. “Come on,” he croons, his bravado returning. “My bed chambers are just up ahead. Hopefully you find it to be pleasant enough in there compared to your own, providing that I didn’t spoil you too much.” His hand lets go of your own and instead takes purchase on the small of your back, pushing lightly to coax you onward into the dark of the hallway.

You follow pretty much straight ahead, unable to see your feet that take you forward and you only veer slightly before Leon stops you, reaching for an inauspicious door on your right hand side. As he pushes it open auric light seeps into the hallway, almost blinding your poorly adjusted eyes despite it being dim in truth. He guides you in ahead of himself and you blink rapidly to make the room around you come into focus.

Leon’s bed chamber is much larger than your own, there is a large wooden wardrobe directly to your left that could kill if it toppled over and a lush couch adjacent to it. You slowly turn and your eyes immediately fall to the bed. It’s almost a clone of your own but spans a wider width, potentially enough to fit three people across it. The sheets and drapes are a rich navy blue and the wood is a dark spruce, lacking the dainty carvings that yours sports but it is still well shaped in its design and by no means an eyesore.

Leon hovers behind you, his breath rolling down the back of your neck and leaving goosebumps in its wake. “It’s nice, don’t you think? Homey in its own way.” His twitchy hands find your waist as you stand at the foot of the bed, large palms caressing you delicately and holding you like you were made of glass, or perhaps a finer porcelain like that of a precious doll. You watch the hollowed out candle that flickers on the bedside table, the only source of light, and suddenly find yourself longing to be enveloped in the lace accented sheets.

“Mhm.” You hum wearily, eyelids heavy and drooping. Leon’s hands glide around your front and he laces his fingers together over the low of your tummy, a protective belt of an embrace. “Do you need rest, darling?” His voice is a tantalising whisper beside your ear and he again noses at the spot next to the apex of your jaw. You titter, shrugging and lolling your head to the side. “I guess so, I didn’t sleep very well downstairs.” You fail to mention the reason being the nightmare in which he fed from your unconscious body that was barely hanging onto life. You don’t believe that he’d take kindly to the ideation.

He hums smoothly and runs the tip of his nose along the slope of your shoulder. Your skin is so soft, so delicate, and he’s quickly learning that only the touch from your hands is able to harm him because like this all he can feel is the suppleness of your body. Leon takes a deep breath in, lips parting and shiny with spit. You smell so good, delectable even, and he can’t resist taking you in at every chance he gets. He’s drunk off the sweetness that runs through your veins, addicted to the way it makes him salivate like a pitiful mutt. It would be so easy to just open his mouth that bit wider and latch on, to break that soft skin and feed.

A pearl of drool runs from the corner of Leon’s agape lips and falls unceremoniously onto your neck. You shudder deeply and turn fast as the sensation startles you enough to make you jump, shaking him away from the intrusive thought. Realisation hits him like a tonne of bricks and he staggers backwards away from where you stand, shaking his head and carding a rough hand through his hair that he tugs unkindly to ground himself.

Get a hold of yourself. He scolds internally, cursing himself for his prurient reverie. This is who you have waited for, pined for all these years. Don’t fuck it up now you impetulant fool. That compulsion, the disjointed voice inside his head that speaks as if it is not his own, normally that would be the one feeding him heinous ideations and impulses to kill in a daze of desperate hunger. To have it speak as the voice of reason above himself was an oddity that had never occurred before, a cry from the soul to preserve what is pure, to preserve you.

With each passing moment he spends in your company it is further proved to Leon that his desire for you is innate, rooted deeper than he ever realised. But with you before him now, here in his private chambers, he has no time to account for it and gather himself, to plan the perfect facade that conceals his hopelessness. Panic runs thick in his cold veins along with a gut wrenching sense of deja vu.

“Leon?” Comes the sweet chime of your voice, a tear in the silence. His gaze shoots up and he finds you standing at the side of his perfectly made bed, doe eyes seeking him for permission. “Are you coming to bed?” With the sleeve of your nightgown hanging over your hand you rub at your tired eyes behind heavy eyelids, waiting pensively. You know that as soon as you wake you will face more difficulty, more heartache when you demand the truth from him. But only for tonight are the two of you able to abandon the animosity and feign ignorance to the issues that lie between you, to the rift that forbids from each other. For tonight it does not exist.

“Yes, my dear.” Leon strides over to you and his hands again seek out the suppleness of your waist. He bows his head in order to kiss your temple adoringly and smiles against you. The cold press of his lips makes you quiver but in turn it feels oddly invigorating, a refresh of the senses and as soon as he withdraws you come to realise that you long for another of his delicate kisses. “I think it’s best that we rest for now. You must be so tired, hm?” Leon hums dotingly, his voice lilting into something alluring and sultry. You wrap your arms around his neck, thankfully with your gown still over your hands, and try unthinkingly to pull him back down to you, your mind becoming fogged like his simple kiss had bewitched you all of a sudden. He chuckles lavishly and keens back down to you.

“What is it, darling? Don’t lose your words now.” He raises a hand to cup your face, pinky finger resting along the line of your jaw while his thumb sweeps over the apple of your cheek. You’re becoming pliant again, like putty in his hands and all it took was a little wearing down to bypass your earlier feistiness. You huff a long breath and tip your chin up so your nose brushes along his. “Kiss me?” You mutter in asking. Leon’s brows furrow for a brief second, pulling a wrinkle into the pale skin before his features soften again.

Your change of heart is inexplicable and baffling to the affection starved man who finds himself wondering if this is some trick, like one he had fallen for in years past. But the glint in your eye tells him otherwise. “Gladly.” His lip twitches with a boyish smile that flashes a fang before he hastily presses his lips against yours. It’s a little bit of an ameture fumble, with you each turning your head a fraction to accommodate for the other. But warmth blossoms in your chest all the same when your lips brush together for the first time.

Leon’s nose tucks flush against the side of yours and your bottom lip nestles against the seam of his, a chaste press. But salacious hunger is quick to seep in. You part your lips timidly in the hopes that he will lead and try to ignore the nervousness that fizzes over your skin in the way of goosebumps. Luckily he senses your hesitation and adjusts his hold on your face, taking you by the chin with finger and thumb in a way that is guiding and encouraging. He gently sucks at the pillow of your bottom lip and you can feel his heavy breaths fanning on your cupid’s bow. But you can also feel his sharp canine teeth graze the skin and whether he means it to or not it rings to you as a threat of puncturing that fragile cushion.

You flinch as something stings for a fleeting second and then your blood runs warm and your knees feel weak, but most of all a kind of dizziness envelopes you. However, it’s not unwelcome. In fact it makes you feel alive. Your stomach flips with a sudden sense of invigoration and you find yourself wanting more, your skin itching with the desire to be touched. If this is what it feels like to be kissed then you don’t know how you lived so long without it.

Leon grunts against you, gruff and animalistic. Your lips are impossibly soft against his and he can’t help but press his tongue against the seam of your mouth greedily. You feel so delicate beneath his hands but the sweetness of you that crowds his senses makes it difficult for him to pace himself, like that same something at the back of his mind was nagging him to take all that you had to offer. He has to pull away to shake off the impulse.

But when he does you’re looking at him with such a tender gaze and he forgets what exactly it was that he wanted to say next, instead staring with his mouth agape and lips glossy with your spit. You titter. Perhaps trying to combat this inborn desire you had to relinquish yourself to this man as soon as you’d crossed paths was a futile waste of time. The misunderstanding of his nature on your part had blinded you from the harsher realities beyond it but now that you’ve broken him down that bit more it’s beginning to become apparent.

Right up until he found you you’d been struggling out in the elements and if something else, you dread to think what, hadn’t killed you first you were likely to starve or freeze out there with only the clothes on your back. But Leon had given you liberation from all of those immediate worries without question, and while looking back you feared that ill intention had motivated those actions you see now that you discredited him, and greatly so. He is just a person with the means to give and the heart to want to, and all he asked for in return was the gift of your company. Though you can’t help but think back to his offer of protection and what more he might request in return for that.

“Darling.” His voice rouses you. “Let’s rest now, shall we?” Leon reaches his hands back and takes you by your wrists, unlacing your arms from around his neck. You pout and give him your best faux somber look. “You aren’t going to kiss me again?” You tease, rocking back and forth on your heels. The look on his face is nothing short of bewildered, how had you gone from being so reticent to this? It’s maddeningly alluring and his heart nearly skips a beat.

“Get into bed and maybe then I will kiss you again.” His hands slip away from your body and he walks around the frame of the bed to reach his self assigned side, eyeing you up as he goes. You narrow your eyes in turn but swiftly clamber onto the sheets like you were told, just with a complete lack of elegance or grace. Whatever it was that was making you buzz, that sting from his kiss, it had left a strange searing sensation flickering low in your stomach that you were desperate to assuage and you could only theorise that another taste of his lips would be the thing to do it. But nothing is proven until put into practice.

Leon sits on the edge of the bed and turns his attention to the candle burning on his bedside table. “Lights out.” He says with a lilt of self satisfied humour, grabbing a tarnished candle snuffer from the table's surface and suffocating the flame. Darkness engulfs the room, fought only by the unwavering candescence of the moonlight that intrudes from the two windows on the wall to your right. The dim light catches his sculpted back as he swings his legs up onto the mattress and turns to you, a smirk pulling the corner of his lips up.

“There we are. Do you think you’ll be able to sleep well here? Or was it another goodnight kiss that you were needing?” The smugness in his voice is not lost on you, in fact he’s being rather obvious about it with an eyebrow raised and lips pursed. You scoff, laying your head down on the pillow while he pivots his body towards you. “What do you think, Leon?” He doesn’t answer but rather sits up on his knees and pulls you closer by your waist, humming in faux thought. “I think you’re just too shy to say it. But not to worry, I know what you need.”

Leon cages you beneath him with an elbow either side of your head, his silvery hair falling into the gap between your faces and tickling your jaw to make you giggle. He hurriedly sweeps it back and huffs a matching laugh through flared nostrils. “Sorry, dear.” He utters, keening down to nose at the line of your jaw. The barely-there touch is like a feather ghosting over your skin and you squirm at the way it tickles, pushing back meekly on his chest to elicit a hiss through gritted teeth. “Leon-“ You whine but he’s already nodding, situating himself on a knee between your legs and coaxing you to spread them wider. “I know, angel. I know. C’mere.”

He kisses you once more, urgent and suffocating. But you’re beginning to get the hang of things and the electrifying sensation that grows in the pit of your stomach spurs you on in blind confidence. You tuck your arms underneath his and hold onto his back for stabilisation, making Leon choke on a pained groan against you. You seize the opportunity and press your tongue past his lips that part with a whine, echoing his earlier ministrations as you drag the pads of your fingers down his back.

God, the burn that afflicts his skin numbs all of his senses and knocks the air out of his lungs, putting him in a haze that’s not paralysing to the body but rather the mind. But your timid kisses guide him through the blistering pain like sunlight creeping over the horizon, beckoning him to you and keeping him grounded. Though the feel of your love bitten lips twists the arduous raking of your nails into fruitful pleasure. Perhaps it was the way your honeyed perfume was making him dizzy, or the blinding effects of lust tricking the mind into believing any touch of yours felt like bliss but it was starting to feel good.

Leon knew your touch was permanently etching his skin, the dragging of your fingertips certain to leave indelible scratches that would scar in ghastly white. But the perverted desire that numbed him from the sting and made it feel sickly pleasurable also made it easy to believe they were nothing more than glorified marks of possession, like hickeys. Were you intentionally claiming his body? The thought alone made Leon’s cock twitch in his underwear and earnt a moan that was muffled against your lips. He knew he was getting ahead of himself but he didn’t care, it had been so long, and surely this meant that you wanted him too and maybe even that he could claim you too…

He adjusts himself so that he can support his weight on one arm only and uses his dominant hand to take you by the jaw, tipping your chin up so he can kiss you deeper and with more fervour. But his sudden haste makes you gasp and pull away, lips agape while you pant down breaths. “Sorry-“ he splutters, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Are you okay, darling?” When you slowly blink your eyes open you’re met with the pallid, moonlit face of Leon. A wonky smile is pulling at his rosy lips and the curtain of his lashes is thick with tears.

You gasp and quickly pull your hands away from his body, realising yourself all too late. “Oh goodness, god I’m sorry Leon I- I was hurting you, wasn’t I?” You tug your sleeves up to cover your hands, guilt tainting your features, and his eyes soften immediately. “Don’t worry, my angel.” He leans down and presses his forehead to yours, his eyes falling shut because if he had stared at your sorry eyes for any longer he wouldn’t have been able to resist kissing you again. “I don’t fear your touch.”

Silence blesses you for a moment and you tuck some stray strands of his hair behind his ear with the safety of your sleeve between your skin. Leon’s thumb brushes over your bottom lip, the touch light enough to earn a shiver, before he envelopes you in another deep kiss. He’s insatiable. You try to keep up with his lustrous ministrations but with your inexperience it’s no use. You just let yourself be kissed, be ravished, and bask in the newfound feeling of intimate desire pounding in your heart. And your cunt.

It’s almost like an ache that you can’t shake off, it demands your attention with a craving for fulfillment but the best you can do at the moment is to try to close your legs. But Leon’s leg between your own stops you and he hums against your lips, realisation dawning on him like a wave. He keeps forward and presses his knee gently against your crotch to test the waters but when you reward him with a whine that spills past his ajar mouth he applies more pressure and rubs the flat of his leg against you just slightly.

You recoil from the kiss with a gasp and lurch up from the sheets, wrapping your arms around Leon’s neck and holding on tightly as if for reassurance. The press of his knee sent a friction fuelled shock through your body that was like nothing you’d ever felt before but as soon as the sensation fizzled out you knew you needed more. You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and take a shaky breath in. “Oh god, Leon.” You uttered, made breathless by the heat suffocating your skin. “Yes, angel?” He replied, his tone giving away how pleased with himself he was.

“That felt good, didn’t it?”

You nodded with shameful urgency and shimmied your hips, grinding the mound of your cunt against his knee amateurishly. And there it was again, a mix of relief and growing desperation that rattled your mind and made you moan timidly. Leon groaned against your ear and caressed your side in a way that allowed the pad of his thumb to graze over the underside of your breast, and it’s now that he becomes glad that your nightgown is only thin. “You’re so cute.” He croons. “So sweet. Tell me, darling, do you need something more?”

“Yes.” You mumble without hesitation, kissing the little mole on Leons neck. He titters and runs a hand into the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging just gently to coax you out of hiding. You lay back and stare up at him with glassy, excited eyes and are glad to see that his gaze mirrors the same enthusiasm. He kisses your cheek and sits back on his knees. “Then do as I say.” He’s doing well to mask his nervousness but his hands keep twitching with the need to shake and pacing himself is proving to be impossible. You’re so reactive and responsive it makes him lose his inhibitions and want to hear more of your sweet cries, because the knowledge that they’re all for him is selfishly satisfying.

He moves away to your side and sits with his back flush to the headboard, flinching slightly as fresh scars meet the wood. You too sit up and look at him puzzled. “Here, come closer.” Leon utters breathlessly, taking you by the hips and not-so-gently manhandling you into his lap. He guides you to throw a leg over him and sit yourself down on one of his thighs with knees bent either side, hovering above him for him to admire and scrutinise. Your heart is beating so fast that you could swear it might leap out of your chest and it only grows more furious when Leon caresses a hand up your body, drawing a line up your stomach with his palm flat against you, a tantalising touch.

“Rock your hips.” Leon commands, watching you expectantly. Keeping your sleeves tugged down you grab his shoulders to support yourself and shyly roll your hips back and forth, just barely dragging your clothed cunt over the strong muscle of this thigh. It sort of tingles but nowhere near as strongly so you attempt to bear down and chase the pressure you need, brows knitting together in the middle in a cutely frustrated expression. Leon tsks and brings his hands to your thighs to hitch your gown up and make it gather at your waist so your white underwear peeks out from underneath. He brazenly ogles the bump of your cunt and pulls you down to press flush against his body.

“If you want it to feel good you have to try harder than that, angel.” He grumbles, guiding you with rough hands to rock you firmer and faster while watching your urgency bloom. “M’trying.” You whine and let your eyes fall shut, trying to find a rhythm with your lewd grinding. The ardent flame licking low in your stomach was growing brighter and when you adjusted the seat of your hips you finally found that sweet spot that made white hot pleasure shoot through your veins.

An unbidden moan escapes your lips and the pretty sound makes Leon’s cock jump in his underwear. “There you go.” He coos dulcetly and lifts a hand to cup your face, your skin burning beneath his own. “Look at me. Look at me while you please yourself.” Rashness lines his words but you obey, blinking heavy lids open to see the sick satisfaction on his face, eyes blown and cheeks rosy. “Leon.” You mewl like it’s all you can manage to say. He bites his smirk with his sharp canines and holds back a moan of his own.

The way you say his name addles Leon’s brain as if a fog was washing over his every thought and reverting everything back to you. It’s like last night all over again, the way you cried for him when that insignificant necklace crumbled in your hands thanks to his doing. The sound bewitched him like a siren song and he knew he had to hear it again but every time it falls upon his ears he is not yet satiated. Maybe if he just…

“Leon-“ you gasp again, rocking faster on his thigh and messily rocking your clit against him for some heady friction. “I-it feels- oh shit.” Something low in your stomach is twisting taut and making your legs tense up but still you blindly chase what’s building. Your head falls lax onto his shoulder while you struggle to form your words, only gradually louder moans spilling into the humid air.

One of his hands stays steadfast on your waist to help guide your movements while the other tugs at the neck of your nightgown and pulls the open collar of it down your shoulder. As soon as your skin, glistening with sweat, is exposed to the air that honeyed scent of you smacks Leon’s senses and he groans lowly. He pushes you back by your shoulder, making you sit pretty for him, and leans down to press open mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. Each one makes your skin tingle and heightens the coiling sensation that makes your thighs quiver, all components of your undoing.

Leon inhales you unabashedly and slovenly licks at your neck, sucking and kissing roughly to find the erogenous spots that make your toes curl. Your hands slide down from his shoulders to his bare chest to better brace yourself but nothing can stop the fervent advance that dumbs your mind and seizes your body, a sensation only made stronger when he finds and abuses the soft spot along the side of your neck. Bitten lips latch and suck at the sensitive area, drawing the blood to the surface of your skin to force a bruise to bloom and like that the sweetness becomes dangerously intoxicating.

Your breath hitches in your throat and a high whine comes involuntarily, a pathetic sound that rings in his ears like a tease of the more intense cries he desires. He pulls you down harder against his leg and you stutter a gasp. “Leon-“ there it is again, a sign he’s already overtaken your every want. “Fuck! It feels like s-somethings, god, like it’s going to snap!” He laughs against your skin, low and derisive.

Your naivety had always been admirable, lending itself to your pliant nature and opening the way for his prurient cravings to mislead the sweet angel that fell into his grasp. But all things end. And naivety dies in the hands of corruption.

“You’re close, darling.” Leon croons, threateningly grazing sharp teeth against that soft spot he had made tender with a possessive bruise. “Let it happen. I want to hear you come undone for me.” His voice fell stronger like a growl was hiding beneath each syllable and his facade of gentleness was crumbling all over again. Your breaths become ragged pants each separated by quivering moans and you grasp desperately at his chest for traction, trying to ground yourself but it’s no use. The flame licking low in your stomach is now a devastating blaze wound tight enough to burst and one more rock of your hips against the thickset muscle of Leon’s thigh makes it snap.

Your body lurches forward and legs kick up with a scream ripping out from your chest. White hot pleasure floods through your veins in a surge for the first time ever and it’s heavenly, sinful bliss blinds your thoughts and makes you see stars of white when your eyes shoot open. Through your interminable climax your continue to rock against Leon’s leg, no doubt leaving a damp mess, and you can feel the little kisses he peppers against that pulse point on your neck. But really he was just preparing it. “Good girl.” He grunts, low and animalistic. “Feels nice, doesn’t it?” You can only babble an incoherent response matched with a weak nod and further whines. Though that’s plenty for him. “Good. My turn.”

Leon takes a deep breath in through flared nostrils with his nose pressed flat to your skin, so sweet, so supple. His jaw clicks as he opens his mouth and sneers with his top lip upturned, fanged canines bared and sharp points pressing dips into your skin that warn your body.

You’re still distracted by the euphoria of your orgasm when Leon bites down into your flesh.

A long, pained wail erupts from the back of your throat, a cry loud enough to shake the walls of the castle with your anguish. The pain was blinding and knocked the air out of your lungs, feeling to paralyse you like you were suspended in time. The tepid roll of your blood over you skin was the most terrifying sensation you’d ever known and it was only made worse by the way Leon was latched onto you, slurping flagrantly with an iron grip on your quivering body.

Pathetically you attempt to push and punch at his firm chest despite not being able to feel your hands. But he cocks his head slightly and sinks invasive fangs deeper into your neck, and with one harsh suck at the puncture wound something changes.

A blisteringly hot wave of something foreign consumes you, coursing through your veins like a rush of endorphins that elicits an unbidden moan. It’s that same rush all over again but far more intense. It makes your head feel heavy and your legs like jelly but most of all it knots that something sinful low and fierce in your stomach again. In your dumbed state you don’t have the mind to fathom it and even less so when blotches form in your vision, obscuring the reality around you.

The only thing grounding you is Leon, as twisted as it is. He’s absorbed in all things you, the heady taste of your blood running thick on his tongue depraves him and consumes his mind with obscene, lecherous thoughts. But he’s in heaven. At long last the sweetness he had been tearing himself apart for was blessing his every sense and he could feel himself slipping away from his humanity, drinking his fill and delighting in the way you went lax in his hands.

Your taste is even richer than he imagined. Like the most flavourful nectar ripped straight from the source of a candied fruit. It’s the best he’s ever indulged himself with and nothing will ever compare. He licks and sucks roughly at your skin, grunting inhumanly as the flow of crimson coats the lower half of his face and spills messily past the seam of his lips all over your once pristine gown.

And oddly enough the taste of your blood was having the same effect on Leon that an aphrodisiac would.

He could feel himself burning up with each messy gulp and your breathless whimpers were only spurring on his perverted desire to drag you further away from your innocence. After all, why shouldn’t he? Your foot was already in the beartrap, the damage was already done, the prey claimed, the blood drawn. And it would be so easy for him to just…

With one last slurp of the sweet ambrosia of your blood Leon reluctantly pulls away and adjusts his hold on your body, securing an arm around the small of your back while the other hand cradles the back of your head gently. He shifts his leg up and presses his foot flat to the bed before flipping the both of you around with humiliating ease, throwing his weight over you and caging you beneath him. You’re easy to move, like a weightless rag doll and Leon unabashedly takes advantage of this and situates himself between your legs, coaxing you to spread from him.

“Leon…” You mumble thoughtlessly. You’re in a sorry state, all lightheaded and woozy, barely able to open your eyes with tears gathered thickly at the curtain of your lashes. Your cheeks are stained by the wet trail of more and your bitten lips are parted prettily, desperately panting down ragged breaths that sound scratchy and painful. Worst of all is your neck. The bruise Leon sucked into your skin is angry and you can feel it throbbing, the puncture wound scintillates with his spit and all the way down your chest runs the dribble of dark red blood. Your nightgown is ruined and through your haze you can feel the stickiness of the blood beginning to dry and make your skin itch.

But Leon thinks you look gorgeous. In fact this is the prettiest he’s ever seen you, or anything for that matter. He stares blatantly like a man transfixed and eager to dedicate the image to memory. The image of purity, so sweet and supple, awaiting the hands of corruption.

“Yes, darling?” He croons derisively, licking bloodied lips clean. Fat tears keep rolling down your cheeks in steady streams and your mouth is so dry that you struggle to speak, like this only laboured breaths escape you. He tuts a noise of faux sympathy and leans down to impatiently kiss along your jaw, harsh presses of swollen lips rousing you slowly. “C’mon, angel.” Leon grumbles against you. “Talk to me.”

You squirm beneath him and try pointlessly to sneak out from his grasp, shimmying your hips back to try to sit up. But his hands are quick to grab your waist and pull you back down, hiking your legs up over his hips so he can settle into the cradle of yours and press his hard cock against the clothed bump of your cunt. Leon groans, perverted and gravelly, rocking his hips into yours and grinding against you slowly. A deep shudder rolls over you and you whine weakly, conflicted by the blistering pain at your neck and the throbbing of your sensitive cunt.

“You said… You s-said you wouldn’t…” You cry out, stuttering through sobs and trying to blink watery eyes open. Leon hums, musing. “And you said you wouldn’t try to escape me. But look at you now.” His tone is dripping with something unreadable, whether it be smugness or sadness you don’t know, a change of heart you feared from him after having heard a glimpse of it before. You gaze at him through half lidded eyes and your heart drops into your stomach at the sight of him, twisting foully in a way that makes you nauseous.

The image that greets you now is the one you were once warned of. Pale skin that glistens in the dim moonlight, sharp fangs coated in rich crimson that is smeared over the lips and drips down the chin, and menacing red eyes that seem to pierce your own. Just like the pendant that would usually be hanging around his neck Leon’s irises have become a rich ruby now that he has drunk his fill, his pupils are blown and shaking and the whites of his eyes are bloodshot too. He looks… demented.

A gasp hitches in your throat and again you try fruitlessly to writhe away from Leon’s iron grip, fear coursing through your body and making your heartbeat kick up. But you’re too weak, too drained to ever dream of escape. He’s grinning down at you, your struggle endlessly endearing to him, and slowly he pushes your ruined nightgown up your body, bunching it around your waist and higher still.

“I told you I would protect you, my dear, don’t you see? Like your scratches are to me my kiss is to you. If another is to see my mark on your skin they will know that this body,” he squeezes the plush of your waist “belongs to me.”

The way Leon says it, breathless and almost pleading, it’s like he truly believes such twisted logic. He isn’t himself, not now that he’s tasted you. His mind is plagued by a drunken disillusion thanks to your blood dumbing his brain and stripping him fleetingly of his humanity, because that is what it means to be a vampire. He can fight it all he wants, cling to what goodwill he has left but no amount of repentance or regret can stop the fact that when blood is on his tongue Leon becomes unscrupulous. The bloodlust turns him into something so far removed from himself and through its duration there is nothing he can do, nor can you. Your cries fall on deaf ears and all you can hope for is for him to come back to himself before irreversible harm is done. Or rather more of it.

But still he rocks his hips against you, unrelenting in the way his erection nudges your cunt through your clothes, and while you’re gradually recovering from your lightheadedness the sparks bouncing low in your stomach don’t help you regain any focus. Leon’s hands busy themselves with the clothes hiding you from him, the gown now carelessly pushed up your midriff and your lower half exposed to the cold air that laps at your skin. Your underwear is prettily on show for him and the sight of the darkened wet patch from your earlier orgasm makes him shiver.

He wants to press his nose against it, to breathe you in and bury his face there. He wonders if your arousal tastes just as piquant as your blood and if you would let him find out, let him lick you clean despite the sharp teeth he sports and how close they’d be to your sweet cunt. Oh how he’d love to tease you and torturously so, kissing up the insides of your thighs and bruising them like he did your neck, marking and sullying the delicate skin. Maybe he’d even be able to sneak a quick bite, just enough to get some blood trickling for him to lick up.

With an impatient grunt Leon tugs at the neckline of your gown to force the ‘v’ of it wide open, making the threads snap and the edge of the fabric tear. It’s a strength he forgets he has or rather wouldn’t on any other occasion but the extra kick and surge of energy comes with many an effect. He hums thoughtfully and brings both hands to the neckline, holding one steady and yanking down with the other so the material rips open. It was ruined anyway, stained indelibly with your blood, so its destruction was no loss in his mind.

Hastily he pulls the fabric away from your body, manhandling you in order to strip you and lifting you from the sheets fleetingly to drag what’s left of the gown out from behind you. You hiss as he hurriedly tugs your sleeves down and grumble some meek complaints, not daring to open your eyes again. “Leon-“ You utter. “Gentle, please.” If this is how it is going to be, if you must surrender yourself to his advances, then the least that you want is for him to be sweet to you again.

The way he so carefully kissed you earlier was intoxicating and when he guided you to your climax and praised you through it, it was thrilling. And that’s what you want now. Even the thought of it keeps that something hot fluttering in your stomach regardless of his newfound roughness and though your words are weak you try with what might you can muster to get through to him. “Please- please don’t hurt me.”

Leon’s breath hitches and he shakes his head, blinking heavily and rubbing his eyes with one hand as the fog of malicious lust crowding his mind falters into something weaker, something he can wade through. Remember yourself.

“Fuck.” Leon curses with a quiver lining his voice. He lifts a hand to cup your cheek, relieved to find your skin tepid and soft as ever. “Come back to me, angel.” He whispers into the quiet, leaning down to kiss your forehead apologetically. “Come back to me.” That damned bloodlust, once he’s out of it he barely remembers what happened in between. He can still taste you, a residual coat of that richness on his tongue, and he knows that for those few minutes he was consumed by greed and hostility but he can’t know what he said, how he might’ve scared you.

All he knows is that he gave in. He gave in to the honeyed scent that has suffocated him for so long, he let prurient desire control his actions and worst of all he let himself hurt you. But he can’t even feel the remorse he knows he should because lord you tasted incredible, and he’s not sorry for feeding on your sweetness but only sorry for the fact that hurting you was a necessary evil. And for the fact that he definitely took too much from you.

The sound of your timid giggle fills his ears and Leon recoils to look you over, puzzled and disoriented. “Angel?” Now when you gaze at him his eyes have returned to that icy blue and the look blanketing his features has gone softer again, though lust still clouds his stare. It’s like whiplash with him. “Mhm, m’here.” You mumble, smiling all dopey and dazed. Gently he combs your hair away from your face to allow himself a full view of you, ethereal as ever and positively glowing despite the sheen of blood on your skin.

“You okay?” His question is foolish but well intended and he catches himself in the middle of it. “I mean, god. I’m sorry, my darling. You were too much to resist.” Leon’s simper is boyish and his voice hushed, breathing heavily with his heart in his throat. He’s so sporadic and it’s scary, but you’re too far gone to rationalise it. “S’okay.” You stammer. “I’m okay.” You weren’t. But the effect of his bite still lingered and now that the pain is diminishing you easily forget quite how severe it was, in fact when you think back you seem to recall it feeling good. Mindlessly you shuffle underneath him and accidentally push your hips up against his. He’s still desperately hard and coming back to his senses to realise he’s ripped your clothes away from you so brazenly helps none.

Leon looks awestruck when he glances up and down your body, his eyes glaze over and a shaky breath escapes his lips. “Can I make it up to you?” His hands caress up your sides with the calloused pads of his thumbs rolled inward to glide over your tummy, reaching high enough to graze the underside of your tits. There’s a slight tremble to his touch as a result of his eagerness and it’s oddly charming that he outwardly appears just as nervous as you. You nod, “You can try.”

His eyes light up, a glint of wonder lurking within at the sound of your lightheartedness prevailing. “There she is.” He leans down and seizes your lips with his, smiling keenly against you. Like this you're quick to fall back into the earlier rhythm you had, swollen lips part and tongues dare to clash, a messy and urgent kiss. There’s a residual irony taste that clings to Leon’s lips but you try to forgo the thought let yourself enjoy this, enjoy him.

One of his hands adjusts to take you by the jaw, turning your head so he can scatter chaste kisses along the line of it and down your neck. The other side of your neck that is. You close your eyes and try to push down the nerves that make your skin buzz with excitement and stomach flip but it’s not easy when a sensation so new is rattling you. Leon slowly works his way across your collarbone, nipping and kissing each inch of skin he gets his mouth on and feeling your heart race beneath every of his ministrations. The hand that held your jaw gingerly trails down to accompany his mouth and he stops at the height of your sternum, just above your chest.

“Can I-“

“Yes.”

Leon laughs heartily against your skin, too dazed by desire to comment on the shared desperation strung taut between you. Instead he gratefully seizes the opportunity. Both hands frantically grab your tits with little care for gentleness, eliciting a high yelp from you that turns into a titter which warms his heart. “You’re so pretty, my dear.” He utters breathlessly, mouthing over your chest while amateurly groping your breasts. His right thumb catches your pebbled nipple and it sends a shock rolling through your body that’s strong enough to earn a moan and a jolt. Leon blithely sighs a sound of satisfaction.

“Like that?” He whispers, flicking the hard bud again with a tad more roughness. You mewl loudly and nod, arching your back away from the sheets just a little. “That feels good, angel? Right here?” Leon carefully teases your nipple between finger and thumb, a rolling touch that doesn’t quite pinch. “Mhm,” you gasp through a harried breath. “More, please-“

With a satisfied hum he kisses around your other nipple, teasing the tender skin and making you worm restlessly. But he too is impatient and within the second he’s wrapping his lips around the peaked bud, moaning into you and sucking gently with eyes resting closed. The sound you make then, it drives him wild, a lewd moan that keens high and rings in his ears melodically. It’s better than any cry, any whine or wail and even better than the way you screamed for him earlier, because now Leon is safe in the knowledge that this cry is all for the rush of pleasure and no pain. And the safety of that knowledge is irreplaceable.

With the posed tip of his tongue he licks over your supple nipple, slow at first to test the waters but your squirming only encourages him to lap faster and suck more harshly. It’s like salacious static bouncing over your skin that makes everything tingle from head to toe, it’s impossible to keep still and yet somehow it’s not quite enough to assuage that pit in your stomach. “Leon, hnngh.” You pant, lacing your fingers into his silvery hair and pulling. He hisses and pulls away from you body with a muted ‘pop’, a sheen of spit stringing from his lips to your tit.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you, darling.” Leon grabs your wrist, large fingers wrapping loose, and cautiously moves your hand away from him to pin it down to the bed. “Just lie back for me, you’ll get what you need.” He smiles patiently before continuing his line of sloppy kisses down your body, shuffling down the bed on his knees and working painstakingly slowly down your stomach and over your sides with feather light kisses that feed the flame sparking low inside you. He’s conflicted, wanting to so dotingly kiss and praise every inch of your figure, to show his adoration in a way words could never. But at the same time the dull ache of his cock, neglected off attention and confined still by his underwear, is addling his mind and demanding himself to hurry, to take from you what has been cursing him.

When he reaches the waistband of your panties he pauses, hovering his lips above your lower stomach with hot breaths fanning on the skin that make you shiver. Leon takes a deep breath, attempting to pace himself before he slips his fingers under the flimsy fabric and drags it down. “Legs back for me, angel.” He coaxes, and you bend your knees with your thighs back to your chest so he can pull the fabric all the way down your legs and off over your ankles. He bunches it in a quaking fist and pervertedly brings your underwear to his nose, breathing in deep with his jaw clenching before he groans crudely. Just as sweet on the senses.

“Please.” You mutter, reaching out for him with an open hand. He shushes you and sits up on his knees, one hand remaining a fist with your panties held in a white knuckle grip while the other caresses up the inside of your quivering thigh. When you look at him his stare is trained solely on your glistening cunt, soaked with your earlier orgasm and he's unabashedly entranced. “So gorgeous…” He gasps under his breath.

Steadily Leon brings his forefinger to run up the length of your cunt testingly, gathering your arousal on the cold pad of his finger. You whine all pretty for him and gaze down at his actions, your eyes flicking up to his face fleetingly to find that there’s a far-away look in stare. “So wet, too…” He's quick to bring another finger to join the other and slovenly spread your wetness imprudently, catching your clit with an upwards drag. Your leg jolts to kick and he hums seductively. “Patience, angel.”

In truth it’s been a very long while since Leon found himself in such an intimate situation, and his memory of the once before was patchy and so far distant that it wasn’t worth trying to remember. But he can understand the inexperienced tells of your body to use as a guide and the timid whines you let out for him now reassure his actions and fervidly spur him on. “Leon.” You again plead like a broken record, his name tumbling from your lips so frequently to feed his growing bravado. He nods and teases your entrance with his fingertips, feeling you clench around nothing. “Wait…”

“Do you want me to stop?” Finally he looks at you, his steely blues almost completely swallowed by enlarged pupils and his reddened lips remain ajar. “No…” You admit bashfully, your voice hushed and the sound muffled in your head by the pounding of your heart. “That’s what I thought, my dear.” He smirks devilishly. “You just have to trust that I know what’s best for you.”

With little warning Leon pushes his index finger inside you, easily sinking to the knuckle immediately thanks to your sullied state, though he shows no regard for taking things easy. You yelp a pained mewl at the intrusion, something you’ve never felt before, but after a second the sting melts away. His hands are significantly larger than yours and you can feel that difference now, his palm easily cups the mound of your cunt and the heel of his hand grazes your clit again as he pushes closer to your body. It’s a foreign sensation but it’s intense and fulfilling, and it fuels the need gathering low in your stomach like a poker taken to a sizzling flame.

“God.” You both curse succinctly, your mind stunned by all things new while Leon is falling into a frenzy of obsession. “You’re so tight, angel. It’s like you’re pulling me in.” His words are subtly derisive but really he’s enthralled and he brings his other hand, still clutching your underwear, to palm himself shamelessly. After a moment, too brief to adjust, Leon begins thrusting his finger shallowly, working you open and crooking the digit to unknowingly brush that sweet spot inside you.

“Oh! Oh my- hnngh-“ Instinctively your hand flies down to grab his wrist with fingers wrapping around and scolding the skin once more. He gripes a seething complaint but refuses to draw back, instead keeping up against you and driving another finger into your soaked hole unsympathetically. An unbidden moan tumbles from your lips and now it stings all over again, an unforgiving stretch that has you digging dull nails into his skin. Leon tips his head back and grunts in pain, it sizzles sharply and seizes up his control of his wrist but he can’t bring himself to drag your hand away again. Because he knows that soon your touch won’t yield this effect, and that he had harmed you equally. It’s poormans logic but it lessens his guilt to believe that the permanent etching of your fingertips on his skin are compensation for his earlier lapse of humanity.

“Leon!” Your strained moan beckons him back to you as he continues to shallowly pump his fingers in and out of your weeping cunt. The sting is dissipating and being replaced by something oneiric that makes you tense up and that feeds that wounding knot in your stomach. It’s near addicting, more so than the way he had you rocking on his thigh earlier. This sensation, the notion of feeling full, it’s a pleasure stronger than anything you’ve known, but just as the knot ties tighter Leon rips his hand away from your grasp with a growl of a yell.

“Fucking god.” He whines, bringing his wrist up to hold close to his chest while panting deep gasps. “You really are something else, angel.” You sit yourself up, propped on bent elbows, and a somber look unscrews your expression from the scrunched one of pleasure it had been momentarily. “Shit, oh I’m sorry I didn’t mean to, I forgot that-“ Leon cuts you off with an uncharacteristic chuckle and leans back over you, the mattress sinking beside you as he presses his palm to it. “Don’t worry, sweet thing. I’m more than alright.”

His chaste kiss meets your lips and he runs the pert tip of his nose along the slope of yours, white hair failing to tickle your hairline before he sweeps it back. When he moves away there’s a frown pulling your lips down and concern bubbles up in Leon’s chest, like how anxiety weighs in the stomach.

“But I want to touch you, hold you. Why can’t I?” Your plea is soft spoken, whispered into the small gap between your lips like a secret exchanged, and the weight of the words makes Leon’s heart ache. His eyes go wide like a deer in the headlights and his whole demeanour mellows, his bottom lip quivering just slightly, almost enough to miss, as he speaks.

“Oh, oh my sweet angel.” Leon utters, dumbstruck. He leans down impossibly closer, his chest brushing yours, and coaxes you up so he can wrap his arms under your back, one hand on the back of your neck and the other around your side. His thumb nearly grazes the puncture mark and for a moment he fears that this is all the temporary effect of his bite, but still he kisses your hairline gently. “That’s what you want? Hm?” You nod so urgently that you quake in his hold and it’s debilitating endearing. “Please, Leon. It’s hard to keep my hands to myself.”

Another titter into the suffocating heat of the air, all coy and giddy for him. “Not to worry, darling. I know what to do, just lay back for me, okay?” He kisses your temple once more before reluctantly moving away, sitting back on his knees and towering over you. When he stretches tall, shoulders rolled back and chin tipped up, a strange sense of deja vu floods you.

In the ghastly candescence of the moonlight Leon looks statuesque. The white light catches him just right, highlighting every toned muscle, every curve, dip and mole, even the scars that scatter his body now look to shimmer. The spitting image of a young Lord. You shiver deeply and disregard the anxiety that comes with the thought of all those unanswered questions, you can pester him another day, for now your priorities lie with something lustrous and you have no intention to deny them.

Leon brings his hands to the top hem of his underwear and your eyes unthinkingly drift to the strained outline of his erection, a breath hitching in your throat. He unfastens the three buttons on the white undergarment before hitching his thumbs under the waistline and sliding them down his large thighs. A breathy sound of what borders wonder escapes from the back of your mouth and you don’t try to hide your staring as Leon’s strips, tugging his clothes away from himself and slowly fisting his cock. Even in his own hand he looks big and nervousness wracks you at the thought of what’s to come.

A long groan falls from Leon’s parted lips as he slowly strokes himself, searing relief relaxing his body at long last. He curses under his breath and hastily crawls back over you, situating himself between your spread legs that he coaxes back even further with his free hand. “You ready, angel?” With his dominant hand he guides his cock to drag up the length of your messy cunt, teasing your hole with his tip and smearing his pre-cum over you possessively. You shudder, your hesitation clear in the way your brows scrunch cutely in the middle.

“I don’t know if I can take it, Leon…” The look on your face then was nothing short of apologetic, a pretty pout and bleary eyes that made his stomach flip. He tsks, kissing you sweetly. “You can, angel. I know you can. I’ll make it fit, yeah? Just relax for me, all you’ve got to do is sit back and let me make you feel good.” His ability to address your concerns without them being spoken, it’s like he can read your mind. Again he prods at your entrance, his words patient but mannerisms the opposite. He can’t wait any longer, he won’t.

“If you want to be able to touch me, you have to let me do this.” Your heart is beating so fast that you almost don’t hear him, and the lewd press of his cockhead against your cunt is distracting you wholy. “But I’ve never… I’ve never done this before.” You admit under your breath, your voice quivering. “I know, my dear. I know. Just trust me, I’ll take good care of you.” You want to say that last time he said that it was a lie, that he’s already manhandled your body and sullied it, but you don’t and instead nod after a moment, biting down on your bottom lip. Leon smiles wide, smug and satisfied. “Good girl.” One of his arms wraps underneath your shoulders, cradling your head into his collarbone, while his other hand guides himself to line up with your hole.

A sharp gasp tears out from your throat almost instantly as Leon pushes his hips forward, his girth stretching you out as he bullies his cock inside you. “God, god!” You curse in mantra, closing your eyes tight while your jaw goes lax, your mouth making that pretty little ‘o’. He noses against your temple and shushes you through gritted teeth. “Relax, just relax for me, angel.” But you can’t, everything is so tightly wound and your muscles are tensed up in a way you can’t unravel. “It hurts.” You whine, tears pricking at the backs of your eyes, but Leon doesn’t still his hips until he’s bottomed out and his skin is flush to yours. “Leon it hurts, I told you I can’t take it I can’t I-“

He snaps his hips against you and your wailing is soon stemmed by a ripping moan, closer to a scream than anything else. “Shh shh. I know, darling, I know. You’re doing so good.” He’s keeping his composure well but internally Leon is a wreck, his thoughts scattered as soon as he so much as pushed his tip against your pretty cunt. And now that he’s inside you, now that you’re wrapped around him so warm and tight he’s already losing himself. His thighs are trembling and embarrassingly he almost comes undone as soon as you clench, the feel of you so much to handle for a long neglected body. “Hold onto me, okay? I’ve got you.”

“B-But I can’t.” You whimper, a dull, numbing kind of pain commandeering your lower body. Leon huffs lowly and shakes his head, his dominant hand grabbing the headboard. “Yes you can, angel. Come on, touch me.” Your head falls back to the pillow as he lies you down and that awestruck look has yet to leave your features. Timidly you bring your hand up and press an open palm against his toned chest, flinching back instinctively. But nothing happens. There’s no burn, no smoulder or spark, just the cold chill of his skin beneath your own. And it feels heavenly for the both of you.

Finally Leon can know the touch of another without pain or foul consequence, without guilt or regret. It’s enough to make tears gather thickly at his lash line that threaten to tumble down pallid cheeks. He sniffles while you rove your hands up and down his body, a lopsided smile tugging bitten lips up. “See?” Leon simpers, cupping your cheek. “All you had to do was wait, my angel.”

Then without warning he begins pistoning his hips into you, drawing back and snapping forward in a desperate rhythm that knocks the air out of your lungs and has you lurching away from the sheets. “Oh!” You moan, scrambling to grab his sides for support and feeling the muscles flex beneath your hands. Leon mimics your outcry with his head thrown back, chiseled jaw tipped up and the hand that held your face trailing down to brazenly grope your breast. “Yesyesyes.” He babbles mindlessly, the hand that holds the headboard gripping roughly so the veins along his forearm stand proud from the skin.

After a couple of merciless thrusts the pain sank deep within you melts away, replaced by a much heavier, ardent blaze that sends your mind into a frenzy. It’s downright dizzying and Leon’s pattern of harsh snaps of his hips shakes your body along with each keen forward. Curses, moans and whines escape you inexorably and among it comes chains of Leon’s name blubbered between each cry.

He’s losing himself above you, his jaw set tense and lips twitching with each guttural grunt. “You feel, fu-uck! You feel incredible, angel.” Leon has to force his hand away from your body as control eludes him, both hands coming to the headboard with fingers digging into the wood with such force that it splinters under his iron grip. His thrusts are sloppy, aided by the rivulets of your arousal that leak around where his cock is stuffed inside you, though he never draws back far and seems to push deeper every time, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly.

“L-Leon, Leon!” You’re inconsolable beneath him, fat tears rolling down puffy cheeks while the sound of skin slapping on skin fills the quiet of the castle room. The fire that was flicking in your tummy is now a ravenous inferno that’s twisting tighter and tighter, an unbearable build that has you wailing unforgivingly. It’s that same thing all over again. With the little thatch of hair above his cock brushing your clit repeatedly and the drilling of him inside you you can feel it nagging again. What was it that Leon had said? You’re close. Close to shattering devastatingly but he’s not far behind you, in fact he might just crash first.

His hands fall from the headboard and he hunches over you, encompassing you in his shadow. His forehead brushes against yours as he rests on his elbows either side of your body, forearms laid to the sheets with hands tucked underneath you, seeking the tepidness of your skin. “Angel-“ He gasps, his open mouth brushing against your own, too lost to manage to kiss you. “Angel I’m, oh! I’m cumming!”

Leon nearly collapses on himself, his head falling into the crook of your neck, right by the bite, while his hips stutter but never still to a stop. A carnal moan rips out from his chest that rumbles against your skin, made dewy by the heat, and you feel his body quake as he comes undone. But more so you feel the warm pressure of him spilling inside you. It’s egregiously filthy and combined with the ghosting sting of the stretch you feel ruined, but thrillingly so.

With his thrusts unrelenting despite his sloven state you too are being pushed towards ecstasy at an alarming pace and you’re struggling to hold back the threat of the flood, heaving breaths between pathetic moans but nothing is enough to fight it off. So you stop trying. With more one pitiful whine of his name you give in and let yourself be consumed by blinding bliss.

Your arms fly up to wrap around Leon’s body and you cling to him like a lifeline while your legs involuntarily kick and shake, a wail erupting from the back of your throat. The euphoria is nerve numbing, that same white hot searing sensation that blurs your sight and cracks deeply in your stomach. With a lewd cry you gush all over Leon, clenching around him and pushing him into burning overstimulation. But god, it’s so fucking good.

The blissed-out whines from the both of you trail off into tense silence and eventually Leon stills his movements, falling limply above you, chest to chest. Your arms remain around him and delicate hands stroke up and down his back, over the raised bumps of scars you no longer have the capability to leave and in the buzz of the quiet you hear shy sobbing beside your ear. “Leon…?” You utter cautiously, holding him tight. He withdraws sluggishly, his energy zapped and body lethargic. In the same low glow of the moonlight you see the tracks of tears trickling over his defined cheekbones, making his skin glitter, but his eyes look as bright as ever, a pretty blue and full of gooey love.

He utters your name under his breath with a dopey smile, a hand gingerly trailing up your body to hold your cheek.

“Are you okay…?” You gulp, though you yourself are not. Leon nods, tatty hair falling in front of his face. “Yes, yes.” He assures, his voice scratchy and worn out. “Are you, angel?” He kisses your cheek dotingly and runs his other hand over your side and down your thigh, the grazing touch on sensitive skin making you shudder. “Mhm, I think so.” Your head sinks further into the pillow and it’s like you lack the strength to lift it anymore, your body still weak and head spinning.

“I just… Don’t understand.” You whisper but it’s like Leon doesn’t hear you for a fleeting second as he pulls out of your puffy cunt. “Hm? What don’t you understand, my dear?” He gets up on his knees and takes a good, long look at you, watching his cum leak from your poor hole like a hypnotised fiend. He smirks smugly and resists the urge to lean in and clean you up with his mouth, knowing that you can’t take it in this state.

“So much, there’s so much I don’t understand, Leon.” He knew this was coming but right now he’s completely brain fogged and so are you. He sighs heavily. “Alright, my darling. I know you’ll have questions but how about I get you cleaned up first, yes? Then you can ask whatever it is that’s weighing on your heart.” Leon stands from the bed, legs stiff and shaking, nearly folding beneath him as he gets to his feet. You pout, delirious and aching. “Okay… But can I ask one question first?” You bargain, making him laugh airily. “I suppose so. What’s so urgent that it can’t wait but a minute?”

“You didn’t turn me… Did you?”

It’s a far more severe question than Leon had anticipated and his laughter immediately ceases, replaced by a nervous inhale. “No, angel. For that to happen you’d have to feed from me too, and I won’t be letting that occur.” He explains stoically, his words as somber as his answer. You pull a face of disgust and hiss a complaint. “Ew… Okay then, will I be okay?”

“You said you’d ask one question, darling.”

“It’s an important one.”

“Cleaning you up is just as important, won’t you wait for me?”

You sigh, defeated. “I think the least you can do is answer, but fine.” And again, your playfulness seeps into all that you do, earning another hushed laugh. You listen as Leon stumbles away to what you presume is his bath chambers on his weakened legs but foolishly you make the mistake of closing your eyes, lashes kissing the apples of your cheeks.

When he returns with a wet rag, another piece of pristine white fabric amongst the many in this castle, Leon hears soft snores echoing as soon as he steps back into the bedroom. He sneaks back up to your side of the bed and gingerly brings a hand to your shoulder, whispering into the fragile silence. “Angel?” No response besides more mouse-like snores. He tuts and as carefully as he can begins to wipe your clammy skin anyway.

“I suppose your questions can wait, my dear. Our future together shall be plenty long enough for you to ask as many as you please.”

Tonight she rests beside me, a blessing too sacred to be true.

In the early hours of this day her auric light nearly eluded me, like sand through the cursed fingers of time,

But our fate prevailed.

For even if we are not together, I look for her in others,

Before we met, I looked for her, for centuries.

I had to have her.

The sweet sun remains within these barren walls, and now within my hands.

At last I know her touch, permanently etched like a branding,

And she too did not go unmarked.

For now she is truly mine.

Stripped is her purity and the scold of her touch, laid to waste on the silken sheets of my bed.

The fight is far from over, that much I know,

But for tonight we shall rest together, an embrace long foretold.

Light and Dark.

Sun and Moon.

Tonight we eclipse.

eidolic masterlist || leon masterlist

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