Full-time Nanami simp. Part-time Writer, Reader.... Enjoy!!!!!
My inkitt account - https://www.inkitt.com/A_cat_with_a_pen
(Also absolutely smitten over Love and Deepspace. Do not question me!)
Leon knew the signs of self-destruction. He just never thought he would see them with you. The mental notebook in his head running through the symptoms and crossing each one off one by one as something new was discovered that you didn't tell him.
Staying in bed later and later. Scrolling on your phone longer. Missing more days between a shower. Your toothbrush bristles dry, and your lips cracked and peeling. The bottle of water that was perpetually empty beside the bed. The bags under your eyes and the grease in your hair a few days past needing a wash. The dust collecting on your lotion. The laundry that started to overflow.
One by one, a miniscule note was made in his mind until the mental page was overflowing with crossed lines and bold letters shouting at him to help you.
But how could he?
How could he when he barely knew how to help himself?
How could he when he had lifted his own gun to his head and nearly pulled the trigger if not for the thought of your face when you found his corpse, cold and leaking blood.
Leon's tendencies had always been loud. The scars, the drinking, the weaponry. The way he threw himself into every battle like it was his last.
Yours were quiet. He didn't know what to do with quiet. He couldn't fight quiet. He couldn't fight thoughts. He couldn't fight something that wasn't happening.
So he held you a little tighter, told you he loved you a little more, and started picking up your clothes off the floor to wash. He carried you to and from the shower, sitting with you with the curtain open, not caring how unkempt you felt or the water that inevitably got all over the floor.
He cared that you were here. Alive. Breathing. And it was all he could do to pull that metaphorical gun away from your head as you tried over and over to pull the trigger and let darkness consume you.
Leon didn't want to live in a world without your light. So he held your hand. Kissed your cheek. And he prayed to the god he wasn't sure existed to bring you home to him and out of the darkness that wanted to eat away at your vivacity until there was nothing left but a hollow shell that resembled who you once were.
the x reader "consumers" on tumblr lowk are so entitled, i said consumer bcs these people do nothing to support the writers but complain about FREE fanfics that other people write for FUN and for the LOVE of the game. THEY DON'T OWE YOU ANYTHING.
i'm so tired of you people who can only pressure these writers, make memes, and ridicule them for writing something that was not fit to your standards or liking.
you don't even write or contribute anything to the community, don't even support or atleast reblogs to the writers you actually like.
stop filling the tags with your consistent complaints about the fanfics that obviously wasn't meant for you (not to your liking) and start learn how to write.
Leon comes home feeling better than he has in ages, and he knows just how he wants to show you.
ao3 ✦ wc: 5.9k
tags: Leon Kennedy/cisfem!reader, marathon sex, multiple creampies, p in v, porn w/o plot, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, cockdrunkeness, rough sex, praise & degradation, aftercare, wife!reader, can imagine with or w/o age gap, re9 requiem spoilers
a/n: I meant for this to be love-making but then it turned freak nasty oops
SMS Message: Home tomorrow.
Sender: Leon S.K.
You jumped up from the couch as you read it, the words shaking on the screen you held with trembling hands.
You didn’t think he’d come home so soon. You didn’t think he’d come home at all.
The next 18 hours were a blur, and then you heard it: the purr of a familiar motor in the driveway. It stopped you dead in your tracks, standing as still as a statue in the kitchen. You tensed as you waited for the sound of footsteps outside— held your breath as you heard the key in the lock— watched unblinkingly as the handle turned— when Leon walked through the door, time itself went still.
For a moment, all you could do was stare. You didn’t know what to expect. Every mission changed him, and you didn’t know what new version of him would walk through the door now, or how to react to it. And the stakes had never been higher.
The days before his departure were spent mostly in silence, doing little else except hold each other as his departure neared every second. You both knew the two likely results: he’d either die in the place it all began or come home even closer to death’s door. He’d wait for his disease to slowly consume his soul while he made his own funeral plans, and you’d stay close to your gun to prepare for the moment he went cold.
You’d spent the time between his text and now clinging to hope and preparing yourself for the worst. You’d never felt as fragile as the moment he opened the door.
He looked your way as the lock clicked behind him. It was only a few seconds, but they expanded into eons as you searched him for signs of bad news. A knit in his brow, or a downward tug of his lips. Traces of tears he may have wiped away in the car before you could see them. His steely eyes filling with grief.
But you didn’t see any of that. Instead, he grinned and held his arms out wide.
You flew crashing into them. He was steady, firm, and tight as you clutched your fists into the back of his shirt. His arms wrapped around your head and he kissed the top of it softly, swaying you ever so slightly because he was too overcome to stand still.
For minutes, all you did was stand in the doorway and hold. That was the quiet choreography of all of his homecomings, though it never felt routine. Each time it had a different weight, and this one was the heaviest yet by far.
When you finally were able to pull away, you scanned him again for signs of injury, physical or otherwise. You knew him like you knew yourself, and even the most imperceptible changes never got past you.
Your eyes widened when they dropped to his neck.
You didn’t have to ask; he already knew the question. He answered it, still smiling, his voice gravelly and low, soft and tired, but not weary. All of it built up your hopes until he finally spoke it into reality.
“I’m alright, baby.”
His hands grazed your face, and you nearly flinched at the feeling of his bare fingertips purely out of habit. You’d spent months of him preventing you from coming into contact with his infected tissue. But then you realized what you were feeling: real skin sans leather, flesh devoid of flaw. His fingers were roughened from calluses and nothing more, complete with his wedding band returned to its rightful place.
Your eyes watered in disbelief and awe. A trepidatious smile grew on your lips as he cupped your cheek in his palm. You covered his hand with your own and pressed into the warmth while your other hand traced up his torso, until you were grazing over the skin of his neck and nudging down his shirt collar.
It was free of all black-rotted dry patches, no cracks on the surface to be seen. Nothing but a fresh scar you didn’t need to ask about right now. Right now, all that mattered was that he was whole and solid, returned to his natural state, totally healed and hot-blooded under the surface.
Your breath hitched at his body heat. Oh, how you missed his skin.
“You’re really okay..?”
The words were small and barely squeaked out. You didn’t want false hope. You needed to know the healing was more than just skin deep. His reaction assuaged all fears.
“Yeah. I really am.”
The truth took a moment to permeate the air. When it did, he took you in a kiss so firm and certain, it crushed all remaining doubt.
You met it fiercely, pushing yourself against his torso to feel him closer. Your hands threaded into the hair on the nape of his neck as he wrapped his arms around to hold you firmly in place.
Your tongue darted out first, or maybe his did, you couldn’t say. And from there, it happened fast.
His hands moved to the back of your head, then your waist, and then your ass, where they couldn’t help but grope and lift until your legs wrapped around him and he held you in the air. You grabbed his face as your lips parted wider to allow his tongue further inside. He roughly kicked off his boots and then he was walking. He kept kissing you all the way through— he didn’t need to open his eyes, he knew where he was going.
Your back met the cool blankets on your bed and then he was crawling over you, caging you under him in the dark. You wrapped your hands around his biceps and felt the muscles flex as he lowered himself to kiss down your neck, covering each square inch of skin with his sloppy, desperate kisses.
“I feel better than I have in years. Spent the whole trip home waiting to show you.”
'To prove it to you' was in the subtext.
He returned to your mouth hotly and grinded his hips into your center, the friction of his jeans against the soft fabric of your home clothes making you keen into the toe-curling feeling. He pulled his shirt over his head and you took the opportunity to speak.
“Turn the lamp on, need to see you.”
He made quick work of reaching over to it, and then you shuddered as your palms felt the expanse of his abdomen. Tight ab muscles, beefy pectorals, and broad shoulders. The sight you never got sick of that made up his brawny form. All of it healed and renewed.
He kept grinding while you took him in. Your arms went up and around and down again, nearly worshipping the flesh. But when you yanked at his belt, he stopped you with his hands around your wrists, bringing them to each side of your head and caging you in again.
“Spent too much time thinking about what I’m gonna do to you.” He sat back up and you kept your arms where he fixed them as he began to pull at the elastic waistband of your bottoms. He kissed your exposed navel and you shivered as he mumbled into you. “Need’ta show you how I’ve always wanted to fuck you.”
You never felt like his age held him back much in the bedroom— his job relied on stamina and endurance, and though his job was physically demanding and he was not quite in his prime, the toll was mostly seen in the back pain after; it hardly showed in the moment. As his hands and mouth traveled every inch of exposed skin like a starving animal, you wondered if you could even handle him giving you something more. The thought of finding out went straight between your legs.
His mouth went straight there, too.
You nearly yelled as he dove into your cunt with a fervent tongue, lapping and sucking and messily making out with your folds, his thumbs kneading to pull open the soft fatty skin of your vulva. He wasn’t interested in wasting any time on teasing, clearly.
Your thighs clenched around his head and a hand pushed against his head reflexively to fight off the sudden intensity, but it was useless. The pressure of your legs around his head only spurred him on until your cunt was soaked in spit– it certainly wasn’t your own wetness– he devoured every ounce that escaped before it could go anywhere but his mouth.
You bucked and twitched as you cried out his name. “Leon, Leon, s’too much, holy— fuck, Leon—” but he only spread your thighs and kept your there, pointing his tongue to circle sharply around your clit.
“I’m just getting started, baby,” he said, sucking your clit into his mouth and letting go with a flilthy noise, “thought I’d never taste this sweet cunt again, gonna drink my fucking fill.”
Your head fell back as he dove back in, steady and thorough and obscene. You took deep breaths, although they were more like hitched pants and moans until you acclimated to the sensation. He hummed as he felt you melt under him and added a single finger inside, groaning when you arched into it.
He slowed down, his finger rocking and curling in and out and his tongue lapping at you. You looked down to see his darkened eyes gazing at his work between tastes, and you shuddered as he licked his lips before retracting all touch. Your hips flinched upwards to beckon him to return, but he didn’t. He met your eyes and reveled in your wanton expression as he sucked you off his fingers, never breaking eye contact as he rose to kneel between your parted legs.
He finally began to do away with his jeans, and something changed in his tone as he did. You shivered with desire as you watched him move. It was deliberate and slow. He was undressing like a threat.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen…”
His belt fell with a thud against the ground—
“I’m gonna fuck you until you cry…”
The button fell apart with a flick of his wrist—
“Fill you so full of cum you’ll be dripping ‘til next week…”
The zipper seemed to ache as it slowly parted open—
“And you’re gonna fucking take it.”
Unhurriedly and never once looking away from you, he pushed his pants and boxers down until his thick cock sprang free. You whined at the sight of it, eyes fixed where it hung in the air. It was dark pink– definitely darker than usual– his hot blood expanding every vein. He was harder than you’d ever seen him, a full display of the immensity of his desire, so much that it nearly looked painful. When a bead of precum began to appear on his tip, your mouth watered for it.
Your eyes scanned upward as you realized he’d stopped talking and was kneeling there in wait while you stared. You took in his form on the way up; the way his abs tightened with every throb of his cock, the striations of his brawny arms, the few new cuts over old scars. The heavy rise and fall of his chest as he held back for the last time tonight.
And then, you saw his face. His chin was slightly raised as if he was looking down on his next confirmed kill. His lips were still glistening with slick as they were pulled into something not unlike a snarl. His hair was halfway in his eyes, but it did nothing to conceal the intent within them.
“You think you can handle that?”
Your eyes fleeted to his navel, only for a second, assessing him like a loaded gun that was aimed right at you. His hands held his clothes in tight fists and his cock leaked with pre.
You met his eyes again and blinked as you nodded and choked out a needy, “yes,” and your gulp gave away your uncertainty. But that only seemed to spur him on.
He fell forward; suddenly, his face was inches away from your own, one hand on the mattress beside your head to hold himself up, the other yanking his pants off as quickly as he could.
“You know what to say if you can’t,” he grumbled, hunkering down to glide his tip against you until it notched against your entrance, “because telling me to stop won’t be enough.”
He grabbed your wrist at the same time he violently drove in, knowing you’d leap from it and keeping you there anyways. You were nothing but a mess of yelps and moans as he beat his way inside, clawing against his back and shoulders. A single finger wasn’t enough to ready you for this, and the knocks against your cervix were only soothed by the equal force against your g-spot.
Each merciless pounding of his fat cock stretched your walls to their limit, and he truly didn’t give you any other option but to take it. You groaned at the way he used his broad build to keep your legs open to him, every ounce of muscle that you were no match against weighing down to pin you there.
With an arm wrapped under you to hold you by the back of the neck and the other tightening in the hair on the crown of your head, he caged you in to face him. But your dizzy eyes were squeezed shut and could only open to roll back into your skull.
He shook you lightly by the hair. “Look at me,” he growled. You mewled as you attempted it, but your glossy eyes went straight back behind your eyelids. He did it again, harder, pistoning up to fuck you harder, too. “Look at me, you fucking bitch.”
The shock of his words made your eyes shoot open with a gasp and a furrowed brow, far removed from the gentle reverence he held you in at the door. His gaze bore straight into you with a scowl, his adoration replaced with possession.
He was terrifying. Unhinged. A madman on the loose inside of you. A killer who lashed against your walls with uncalculated raw power. Though you could only see his face, it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen.
While you were still reeling from the disparagement, he gritted angrily into your face, crowding you until your noses nearly touched.
“Who owns you?”
You could only attempt to answer, your voice breaking into a sputtering moan as he bottomed out harshly again and again, not needing any of the great focus it took you to speak.
The pitiful noise you’d made wasn’t good enough for him. He squeezed the sides of your neck and you arched off the bed, but that only sent your body flush against his, which didn’t make you any clearer-headed.
“Tell me who fucking owns you.”
You felt like you were floating as your brain was cut off from blood flow, and out of care for your own wellbeing, you managed to answer him.
“Y-you, Leon—“
He let go of the pressure and smirked as you gasped. “Mouth not so good for talking right now, huh? Only good for one thing?”
He unclasped his fingers from your hair and brought them to your chin, delving into your parted lips to hook around your bottom teeth. You let your jaw fall open and watched in shock as he spat inside.
“Swallow it,” he commanded, fingers digging into your face as he pushed it shut. You shuddered as you did, and his own eyes rolled back now.
His head fell into the crook of your neck with a smoky groan. You felt hot puffs of air against your pulse as his hands became gentler, like he revered you for doing what he demanded.
“Gorgeous fucking girl… needed this cunt so bad, went through hell to get back home to you…”
His hold on you may have lessened, but his words held your heart in his fist and squeezed. He’d captured your thoughts so purely on the present, you nearly forgot the context.
Your arms were limp as they tried to wrap around his back, barely able to hold on as he moved with every pounding of his hips. But still, they searched him, chest filling with every inch they felt unmarred by disease, and your cunt pulsed as he searched you for places to grab. Your ebbing breasts, the small of your waist, the meat of your hips, landing finally on the underside of your knee where he changed the angle to impale himself even deeper.
You were losing it, and he could tell. He thrust upwards to meet where your hips rose to help him land in that perfect spot and he kissed your jugular— first a peck, then an open-mouthed kiss, and then a full-on lick of his tongue.
Your legs trembled under him. “Leon, I’m, fuck, please,” you breathed.
He twisted your nipple and nipped under your ear as if to mock how it made you writhe. “Oh yeah? You sure you wanna cum so soon?”
‘So soon’ ..?
Maybe he wasn’t all talk when this started. Maybe that savage look in his eye wasn't a trick of the light. At this rate, he wasn’t going to fuck you until you cried, he was going to fuck you until you died.
But he wanted it. He lifted himself enough to sear your mouth with a kiss, his thrusts slowing momentarily to wedge his hand against your clit. He gathered the wetness between your bodies to easily rub against the silky nub. Your toes curled and your spine curved to seek the friction of his freshly calloused fingers. He deepened the kiss as you moaned, and it became all tongue so he could swallow the sounds in his throat.
He was debauched. Delirious. A bad man smiling as he plucked petals from a flower. Delightfully drowning himself in sin. All you could do was surrender as he brought you your undoing.
You came with wild cries and jolts of ecstasy, nails digging into his deltoids as he sped up even more. You watched him look down at his cock being covered in your cream, a ragged sound in his throat as you tightened around him with each wave of pleasure.
You panted sharply as you barely began to come down, and he lifted himself up on his haunches, kneeling between your legs as he soaked up the sight.
Once your half-lidded eyes met his, he grabbed your hips to brutally fuck you into him.
You clawed at the sheets as he used you like a toy. You won’t be surprised if your ass is speckled with fingertip-shaped bruises tomorrow. All you could see in front of you was your breasts recoiling from each thrust, and behind them, Leon lost in his own world of feeling. His head was tipped back and you saw the stubble under his chin— his pecs were flexed and flushed pink from the vigor— all of him covered in a light gloss of sweat that shone in the warm lamplight.
He was intoxicating to behold, and it was absolutely unfair, because you already lost the ability to think straight. Now you drank him in with your eyes, and you were totally inebriated.
Your moans turned into some kind of mumble. You didn’t know what words you were hoping to form, but it was something along the lines of a warning that he was approaching the realm of too much. He looked down at your babbling with a lust-filled, lazy smirk, all too pleased with himself already.
“Whatdya want, love? You drunk on my cock already?”
He slapped your clit and laughed lowly as you gasped and jolted, then propped your limp legs around him and barreled in even more. Steady, fast, and loud.
Thank god the apartment days were over or the cops would come any minute. Skin slapping against skin, the headboard banging dents into the drywall, you crying out for him like he was carving out your heart. A noise complaint in the making. But when he signed the property deed, it came with the right to make you scream, neighbors be damned.
And scream you did as he held you even tighter and thumbed your swollen clit, evoking your walls to seize in the way he needed to release. He leaned back with a sharp and airy shout, hips sputtering as you felt him unload deep inside, his remaining jerky movements making it trickle out around him.
You were a touch thankful as he slowed down and his hands rubbed soothingly on your thighs. You could finally catch your breath. But your graciousness was short-lived as he flashed a grin and flipped you onto your stomach. The breath was forced out of you as your chest fell into the mattress, and your eyes went wide as he lined himself back up, slowly pushing inside, his cum allowing his cock to slip easily inside regardless of how sore your folds already were.
You whined and knotted your fists into the fabric under you as he bottomed out and pulled away with slow and liquid motions. You heard the faintest laugh rumble in his chest before he spoke.
“I’m not anywhere near done with you,” he huffed.
You buried your head in the soft sheets below. Filled with his load and the promise of another, you felt totally and completely his. Exactly where you wanted to be. Right where you belonged. You couldn’t help but smile, until he moved and it was wiped off your fucked-out face.
He gripped the meat of your ass as he steadily picked up speed, the silver of his wedding band cold against you in contrast to the heat of your bodies. A wet spot collected underneath you from his cock coaxing out his cum with each thrust. The sounds were softer yet even more crude with your cunt so sopping wet.
“Gripping me so good, look at you,” he spread your cunt apart a little more, “goddamn, you’re perfect.”
You felt mildly embarrassed at the messy sight of you that he was undoubtedly staring at right now, but at the same time, you envied his view. To watch his cock disappear inside of your puffy and well-used folds, then withdraw covered in his cum and a healthy mix of your own. To view his strong hands holding you open, to see yourself laid out in submission.
But all you could do was feel, and that was more than enough to sate you. In fact, you were already well past satisfaction, and you kept having to refind your focus so you could keep taking more. You inhaled deeply as you felt the soreness at your entrance and reminded yourself to relax your body, sighing away the tension in the muscles you didn’t mean to flex: your thighs, your back, your shoulders. But then you’d feel the friction of his tip dragging against the gummy walls of your g-spot, and your mind was clouded by pleasure all over again.
He wasn’t going nearly as fast as before, but it was obviously a choice, and not one made out of tiredness or necessity. It just felt too good for him to change the rhythm. With your knees together as you lay prone, your canal was tightened in a way that made you feel dense and so, so warm around his tender cock. You always felt incredible to him, but if sex always felt like this, he wouldn’t just fuck you all night, he’d stay buried in you so long he’d risk starving to death.
You were each lost in your own minds as the feeling went on and on. The air was heady and thick as you breathed against the blankets, and Leon was humping into you like waves rolling into shore– fluid motions that still crashed onto the shore or your center, followed by another and another, a constant ebb and flow that lulled you deeper into euphoria.
“Feels s’good, Leon, oh my god… d-don’t stop.” Your voice was laced in awe.
“Really fucking does… shit…”
The words were airy and held just as much wonderment as yours had. He traced a hand down the valley of your spine, revering the body that gave him such immeasurable bliss. Knowing that he was feeling the same seventh heaven you were made you feel even more connected to him, and your toes curled at the thought.
It kept going, and going, and going. You couldn’t tell how long it remained exactly like that, neither of you searching for your next orgasm, just totally and completely captured by the present. Time wasn’t something that existed in the room. It was a long time, but it’d never be enough.
He groaned as you felt his hips stutter involuntarily as the next thrust landed even deeper inside. The unexpectedness hit you both and turned it back into something needier. The next thrust snapped against your ass and you arched into the air to meet it. He shifted to hold you firmly as he set on a new wanton speed.
You mewled as you keened into him, legs parting slightly to make room for any spare length he had to give, and gripped the sheets as his balls began to slap against your clit. Each time he crashed against your walls, you felt them begin to bloom with electric want, and you braced against the bed to push yourself back into his thrusts as they became gritty, harsh pounds again.
He felt just the same as you, blood rushing to the parts of his brain that demanded another orgasm, and he felt every flutter of your walls around him that beckoned to milk him dry– exactly what he wanted you to do, to drain him until he had nothing left to give. He wanted to do whatever it took to make sure that fluttering didn’t stop.
He reached under you to rub your clit. You yelped as his fingers made contact, gliding easily against the cum-covered nub. His forearm was pressed against your navel, pinned between you and the mattress, and you could feel the size of his cock protrude against it from within you. Your legs spread even wider as you cried out, struggling to hold onto reality as he worked the thousands of nerve endings he’d already made oversensitive. Now, it bordered on torture.
The way you opened yourself only made it easier for him to find purchase to pound even harder, meeting the way you writhed and keened for more, his eyes rolling back as you bore down as if you were trying to squeeze him out. But all it did was drive him harder into all the right spots inside of you, and you were so overcome with sensitivity, you came before you even knew you were close.
And you came hard. Jolting and seizing as you cried his name, your eyes growing wet from the shock of it. He was loud as he reacted to the way you clenched and pulsed around him, your warm, slick cum covering his cock and making his movements sloppy and wet. And you were even louder as he kept going even harder.
He was surprised that he didn’t cum again right then and there, but it only galvanized him to pull your hips back and use you again. Your body was growing limp, you were shuddering and shaking, and his eyes widened with madness as he watched your face contort in pleasure. He was watching for signs that you’d say your safeword, too, but every moment that passed that you didn’t, he took as permission to fuck you even harsher.
Your head lolled and your lip quivered as you took it like a punishment, not a single coherent thought inside your head. You registered that he was close like white noise, simultaneously in the background and all around you. His hands seared in their grip on you as he hammered in once, twice, and then held himself deeply inside with broken rasps and moans. Your lips fell open as you felt his fresh load mingle with the first, pooling hot against your cervix.
He pulled out with a violent hiss, and you cried out as the fluid stung against your sore opening. Your legs trembled until they collapsed back onto the bed along with the rest of your body.
You were vibrating from the inside out, still reeling from how aggressive both of your orgasms were. You could hear him catching his breath, too. You twitched as you felt him touch the outside of your cunt, bracing yourself for more, relaxing when he only stroked the outside. He drew his fingers up and down the crease of your folds, languid and smooth, leisurely playing in his overflow. He pressed them in once just to watch you jolt, and then cleaned them off with his mouth.
He finally gave you a break and turned his focus to taking care of you. By the way you lay there limp, he knew you needed it. He peppered you with kisses as you floated in the afterglow, sprinkling them softly on your rear, up your spine, and onto your shoulder blades, until he placed one on your cheek.
He brushed your frazzled hair away from your face and the corner of his mouth pulled into a smile at the absolute state of you. But then the lamplight reflected off a tear and he furrowed his brow as he gently wiped it away.
“You with me, sweetheart?”
He chuckled at the small sound you made in acknowledgement, the only thing you had effort to respond with. He placed a kiss onto your head.
“Did so good for me, love. So perfect.”
He grunted as he laid down, pulling your back into his chest to spoon you. You weakly held onto his arm as it wrapped around your torso, shifting back into him to steal his body heat.
You closed your eyes with a sigh as you soaked in the way he took care of you after such a brutal display of lust. His thumbs circling against your sweat-damp skin, nose nuzzling against your hair, gravelly voice soothing you with praise.
“M’so glad to be home, baby. You always made me feel young again, but it’s almost like I am young again. Don’t want to take it for granted. Gonna take some time off, take you on vacation, let you see the world. Might fuck you on every continent.”
You giggled at his ambition, still high on happy chemicals and swimming in the dream he laid out. It’d be a significant change, him enjoying the fruits of his labor with things more permanent than gifts and fast cars. You always encouraged him to, but he said it’d be easier for him to cope with losing a material possession than a vacation being ruined by being called on a mission. You hoped it wasn’t just the endorphins talking.
“Yeah, you like that idea? Good, ‘cause I mean it.” He kissed under your ear and squeezed you in closer. “Wanna spend every day making you happier than ever, make up for how long I was sick. Can’t waste any of ‘em not fucking you the way you need me to.”
You gasped as you felt his half-hard cock twitch against your ass, instinctively arching back into it. A shiver ran over your skin as he pressed it against you in turn, and you realized he still wasn’t done, confirmed by the way his voice darkened against your ear and he started kneading your breast in his hand.
His kisses against your pulse turned open-mouthed and erotic, one hand pinching your hardening nipple as the other reached for his cock, slowly stroking himself with the tip resting against your sopping hole. You were so flush together that with each wave of bloodflow that grew him towards full-hardness, it breached your pulsing entrance without him even trying.
Your toes curled as he leisurely thrust into one centimeter at a time. It was just enough of a tease to eat away your apprehension. You really weren’t sure how much more you could take, but as he shallowly fucked his tip into you, you became increasingly desperate for more, until you were squirming and panting in his arms.
You gasped as he suddenly pushed halfway in, feeling your folds and your entrance smart in their soreness. Just a few minutes left empty and you needed time to accommodate him all over again. He wasn’t quite as big as before after two orgasms, but with his size, being slightly smaller was still pretty fucking huge. And now you needed to adjust to more than his size; you needed to adjust to your own overstimulation, too.
He thrust halfway in and stilled there, holding you tight to prevent you from backing into it, feeling your legs shake around him.
You already couldn’t walk, he was sure of it. But it must be well past midnight now. Did you need to use your legs tonight anyways? He decided that you didn’t. Might as well make them truly useless.
He bottomed out in one smooth, sharp thrust, aided by the lubricant of the two creampies inside. His eyes rolled back as he stayed there for a brief moment, just long enough to feel you throb around his cock, like your body was begging him to make it three.
He’d never cum that many times in a row before, not even in his prime. But now, he felt like he’d entered a new prime, and he wanted nothing more than to see just what his limit was. He wondered if he’d reach yours first. But you were a tough girl, he thought. You took him like you were made for it.
His navel thumped against your ass as he drove in with that goal in mind: find out how much cum he could stuff inside your cunt until one of you tapped out.
He started steadily, knowing it’d take him longer to find his finish a third time, and seeing how you were already a mess of moans, both from pleasure and physical overwhelm. It boosted his ego to know he was pacing himself for you much more than for himself.
You felt like an unraveled spool of thread. You couldn’t believe he had the stamina for another round, his age considered or not. You were shocked you could keep going yourself. But at the same time your swollen cunt ached around him, it sucked him in for more.
He twisted your head back to take you in a kiss, swallowing your moans as he beat fast inside again. You reached back to hold onto any part of him you could until your senses were once again flooded and you melted open to him.
“That’s it, relax for me. Just one more, baby, gonna fill you to the brim. Fucking take it.”
And take it you did, until the night sky turned light blue.
summary: to your chagrin, you get partnered with an irritating DSO agent who happens to take an interest in the case you're working on.
cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, re9!leon, fbi!reader, age gap, kissing, vaginal fingering, oral sex, blow job, p in v, spanking, choking, finger sucking, brat taming, praise kink
wc: 10k
a/n: obsession's gotten so bad i started having dreams about him <3
also on ao3!
There’s a man sitting at your desk.
You’d arrived at work a little before 9, steaming cup of coffee in hand and a stack of case files tucked under your arm haphazardly. It was only until you’d heard the curious, hushed whispers that you’d realized your desk was currently taken, occupied by an unfamiliar man clad in a leather jacket.
Were you being relocated? Promoted? Demoted?
A barrage of thoughts flits through your mind as you approach your desk slowly, mentally preparing yourself to give the man a piece of your mind. The man doesn’t even flinch when the case files drop onto your desk loudly, your coffee cup following soon after as you set it down roughly before crossing your arms over your chest.
“Can I help you?”
His head tilts towards you, shaggy hair shifting as his gaze travels over you with interest. You stare back at him blankly, brows furrowing when you take in the scruffy stubble covering his jaw and the weathered look to his skin. He had to be at least twice your age, but even you could admit the man was stupidly handsome. You’re only left with more questions than you started with as you continue to stare at him, feeling bewildered. The flex of his gloved fingers catch in your periphery, distracting you as you glance down to find him piecing together a disassembled gun with practiced ease, the parts set out neatly on your desk.
His voice is gruff when he speaks. “You’re younger than I expected.”
“You… were expecting me?” you ask, irritation seeping into your voice, patience growing thin. “Who the fuck are you?”
The man’s brows raise at your blunt question, fingers still moving deftly, his eyes flickering with mirth.
“You know, the FBI promised me a warm welcome,” he says, the chair swiveling as he turns to face you fully. “Can’t exactly say you’re delivering on that promise.”
“Yeah well, I didn’t make any promises,” you retort, giving him a tight smile, watching as he leans forward, sliding his newly assembled gun back into its holster. “Besides, you still haven’t answered my question.”
He sighs, leaning forward, his arm outstretched as he offers you his hand. “Leon–”
He’s interrupted by the Unit Chief calling out your name. Your eyes narrow when you see the case file in his hands, glancing back at Leon before you leave him, stepping inside the Unit Chief’s office, the door clicking shut behind you.
“We’ve got two new bodies,” he says, handing you the case file. “Unsub’s been crossing jurisdictions and the local police department is… well, concerned to say the least. Think you can handle it?”
You nod, flicking through the pages, nose scrunching when you see the images of the crime scene – each more grisly than the last. Mutilated bodies, blood smeared across the walls, messily carved symbols etched into the wooden door of the victims’ home.
“Seems ritualistic,” you murmur, reading through the reports. You glance up at him, clutching the case file to your chest protectively. “You’re letting me take this alone? I’m flattered.”
“Ah,” the Unit Chief shakes his head, nodding towards Leon. “Not exactly.”
“What?” you scoff, looking at Leon who gives you a smile and waves through the glass. You glare at him, yanking the blinds shut. “The old man?” you hiss, “he’ll only slow me down.”
The Unit Chief sighs, taking a seat in his chair. “That man is Leon Kennedy. DSO. It’s only a precaution. He’s more experienced than any team we could put together and after what happened with Agent Ashcroft, the FBI is trying to be more… mindful.”
“Ashcroft?” you echo, remembering the Rhodes Hill incident. “That’s– that’s because they sent an analyst into the field of all things. She must’ve been terrified. I’m a field agent, I can handle myself.”
“Agent Kennedy took an interest in the case,” he replies, hands clasping together. “If there’s bioterrorism involved, he’ll be useful. If there isn’t, use him as an idea board. The Unit Chief peers up at you, his expression stern. “My decision is final.”
Your jaw works irritatedly before you huff out a heavy breath, nodding reluctantly. “Yes, sir.”
Despite your sour mood and the urge to slam the door shut, you carefully close it, making your way back to Leon. You drag a spare chair towards your desk, sinking down onto it. Leon shakes his head when you offer him the case file.
“I’ve already read it.”
“Huh,” you stare at him, lips pursing while your eyes squint in recognition. “Leon Scott Kennedy,” you drawl, jabbing your finger at him, “you’re the Raccoon City cop. I’ve heard stories about you. Shouldn’t you be…” you gesture to him pointedly, “retired?”
“Ouch,” Leon says, his hand moving to press against his chest as he feigns being hurt. “You really don’t want me here, do you?”
“All I know is that you’re some big-shot DSO agent that I don’t need on my case, Leon,” you shoot back, flipping open the file to read the autopsy reports more thoroughly.
“The first case you’ve ever been in charge of,” Leon muses, his leather gloves creaking softly as he picks up a stray pen, putting it back into its place. “I’m impressed. Not everyone gets to be a lead on a case like this. Then again, you’re pretty good at this kinda thing.”
Was he buttering you up? He had to be. You don’t bother looking up as you mark a few things of interest off on the report.
“Thank you,” you murmur, scrawling a few notes down on a notepad before you pause, head turning to find him watching you carefully. “How did you know that?” you ask, a hint of suspicion in your voice, “we’ve never met before.”
Leon shifts, grunting softly as he tries to get more comfortable in your chair. “I took the liberty of reading your file,” he replies flippantly, his expression darkening as he tries to work the chair’s jammed lever. “Fuckin’ chair… how do you sit in this all day?”
“I don’t sit all day!” you snap, “and you read my file? I don’t care if you have the fucking clearance, you can’t just–”
You’re interrupted by a loud snap, teeth gritting together when you realize he’s pushed the lever too hard – or perhaps, underestimated his own strength – the lever cleanly detached and now clutched in Leon’s gloved hand.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” he murmurs, setting the lever down on your desk, patting it awkwardly. “I’ll buy you a new chair.”
You have half a mind to reach over and strangle him. You even consider doing it, until he grumbles under his breath and shrugs off that jacket of his, your murderous intent forgotten as soon as you catch sight of his thick biceps. With those things, Leon could probably strangle you and have no problem doing it.
The sheer size of him renders you incapable of tearing your gaze away, your stare settled firmly on his shoulders, arms and chest – every part of him unfairly thick and muscular – his skin-tight shirt leaving you barely conscious of the way your throat was beginning to dry up.
Your newly broken chair creaks once more under Leon’s weight, the sound piercing through the haze of your shameless staring. You blink uncertainly, taking another lingering peek at his biceps while he’s too busy trying to get comfortable.
“We’d better get going,” you announce, grabbing the file before standing up abruptly. “The local PD is probably waiting for us.”
“We can take my car,” Leon says as he follows you into the elevator.
“I’m not in the habit of getting into cars with strange men,” you say testily, pressing a button before turning to face him.
“And I’m not in the habit of babysitting FBI agents,” Leon drawls, leaning against the wall of the elevator, his arms crossing over his chest.
The movement makes his shirt stretch tighter if anything, the fabric clinging to his broad forearms stubbornly, his watch glinting softly in the lighting. Your head tilts, eyes narrowing with irritation when you register his insult.
“No one asked you to babysit,” you say, shaking your head. “I have a gun,” you take it out of the holster attached to your hip, pointing it at him, “and I’m smart. I’ll have this case wrapped up in a day or two, so stay the fuck outta my way.”
A smile pulls at his lips, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he lifts his hands in mock-surrender. The amusement in his eyes makes him look a little younger, your heart fluttering with delight for a moment before you tamp it down violently.
When the elevator comes to a stop, Leon takes your bag before you can protest, his gloved fingers brushing yours briefly. You step after him, brows raising with begrudging respect when you see his car. Big-shot DSO agent, your mind supplies as he puts your bag into the backseat, gesturing for you to get in. You sigh heavily, opening your mouth to argue but Leon’s already disappeared inside his car, the engine rumbling to life. Muttering a curse under your breath, you get in his car, pulling the door shut firmly.
–
“What do you mean there’s only one room available?”
“What’s there to understand?” Leon asks, dangling the singular key in front of your face. “Rooms are all booked out. They’re celebrating some special harvest festival according to the receptionist.”
“Harvest festival?” you echo, peering up at him. “You gotta be fucking kidding me. That’s like the perfect cover for our unsub.”
“I would help,” he murmurs, nudging your shoulder gently to get you to step aside, “but you wanted me to, what was it?” you roll your eyes when he snaps his fingers, pretending to think. “Ah yes, stay the fuck outta your way.”
You snatch the key hanging from Leon’s finger, ignoring his aggrieved sigh as you push past him and stomp back down the stairs to the reception, ready to demand another room. All the receptionist does is give you an apologetic smile and offer you a discount. You swallow your pride as you trudge back up the stairs, doing your best to avoid Leon’s eyes when you find him leaning beside the room’s door, his brows raising amusedly.
“I don’t want to hear it,” you mutter, slotting the key into the lock.
Leon shrugs non-committally. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”
The door is heavy as you push it open, Leon’s hand moving to keep it open for you as you step inside. You fumble in the darkness for the light switch at the same time Leon does, his strong, calloused fingers brushing over yours. It’s enough to have an unwanted shiver running down your spine, warmth blooming in your chest and a flush settling high on your cheeks despite your stubborn annoyance with him.
“Fuck me.”
You follow his gaze when he swears, taking in the lit room. There’s a shitty couch in one corner, a tiny area with a coffee machine and table, and… a bed.
“Okay,” you say slowly, staring at the one, pitiful bed you had been afforded. “Great! So I think you should go and chew out the receptionist.”
“I’m not doing that,” Leon scoffs, bending down to take off his boots, his gun clattering against the table as he sets it down. “I can take the couch.”
You look back at the couch, brows furrowing. “That’s really nice of you and all, Leon,” you begin, stepping further inside the small room, “but I don’t think you’re exactly going to fit.”
“You care about me or something?” he drawls, looking over at you with a smile as he opens his duffle bag to pull out a towel and a set of clothes.
“Get over yourself. I’m just worried about your…” you gesture towards him vaguely, “potentially geriatric bones.”
Leon chokes on a laugh, his brows shooting up. “Geriatric? I’m 49. My bones are in perfect working order.”
“Right, nevermind. You did break my chair.”
“I did you a favor,” he retorts, slinging the towel around the back of his neck. “It was a hunk of junk.”
“It was in perfect working condition!” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Do you always defend inanimate objects with such passion?” Leon muses, stepping closer until he’s only a few inches away, head cocking to the side.
“When they’re close to my heart, yes.”
“A chair is close to your heart?”
You decide to double down. “Yes, Leon.”
“Huh,” he nods slowly, clicking his tongue. “You got attachment issues?”
“Did my file not tell you that?” you smile up at him snarkily.
Leon grins, shaking his head. “I’m afraid I skipped over your psych eval.”
He turns, disappearing into the bathroom. You glare at the door and huff out a sigh, removing your shoes before grabbing the case file and flopping down on the bed tiredly. You flick through the pages absentmindedly, settling on the symbols carved onto the door. You hadn’t seen anything remotely like it before and the database search you’d done earlier in the car had come up empty.
“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, glancing towards the bathroom.
You’d exhausted all your options save for one. A reluctant groan leaves you as you stand, approaching the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe.
“Hey, Leon?” you call out when you hear the spray of water come to a stop. “I… might have been a little difficult earlier,” your voice sounds strained, “but if you could maybe take another look at the file, then I would… you know, probably appreciate it or whatever.” You swallow, face twisting with discomfort. “Please?”
Leon laughs, the rich, deep sound seeping through the crevices. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he says, sounding entirely too entertained by your attempt to ask him for help. “I’ll take a look for you.”
You frown at the door, jolting when it swings open suddenly. A few wisps of steam escape, and you blink owlishly, finding yourself face-to-face with his bare chest. It’s hard to keep your gaze from wandering over his exposed skin, a light dusting of hair covering his chest coupled with a few scars. A strange, gurgling noise escapes you when he shifts back to grab his towel, his broad, muscled back now visible to you. You sway, moving to grip the doorframe, knees feeling weak.
“You okay?” Leon murmurs, glancing over at you as he ruffles his damp hair, brows furrowing.
“Yes!”
Your voice is shrill, pitching up awkwardly until you clear your throat and give him an equally awkward smile.
“Perfectly fine,” you clarify, this time sounding breathless as you try and fail to not look down, inhaling sharply when you see his defined abdomen and the dark, coarse hair below his navel, disappearing into the waistband of his sweatpants.
“It’s just that you look…” you trail off, fingers itching to reach out and squeeze and touch. Hot. Attractive. Fuckable. Really fucking fuckable for a 49-year-old man. “Like shit,” you settle on, the words tumbling out of you in a strained manner as you force yourself to meet his eyes. “You– you look like shit, Leon.” You pat his shoulder jerkily. “Unfortunately.”
“Right, sure,” he says, his head tilting as he stares down at you, unconvinced. “You really know how to flatter a man.”
“I’m charming like that,” you say, hands clasping behind your back.
Leon hums, and you stare back up at him, gaze flitting away for one moment to get a glimpse of his left hand. No ring. Perfect. You pinch yourself as soon as the thought comes.
“You gonna let me out?”
“What?”
When Leon gestures towards you, you realize you’re still standing in front of him, blocking the way out. You move to the side sheepishly, pushing the case file into his chest quickly before locking yourself in the bathroom.
You let out an embarrassed groan once you’re in the shower, burying your face into your hands. What the fuck was wrong with you? There was no way that all it took was some dorky, attractive, older man to have you feeling out of sorts. A dull ache flares between your thighs at the thought of Leon, fingers sneaking past your folds to rub at your traitorously swollen clit. It doesn’t take much, just the image of his body pressed against yours, his arms wrapped around you, mouth pressed against your ear while he grunts–
You cum with a muffled whine. Scrubbing the rest of your mortification off of your skin with soap, you dry off, slipping into a pair of sleep shorts and a hoodie. You pad out of the bathroom to find Leon sitting at the table – thankfully with a shirt on – a few containers of food littered across its surface while he’s hunched over his laptop.
“Hey,” he greets when he sees you, gaze travelling over you briefly before turning his laptop towards you. “I had a look. Your guy might be part of a cult,” Leon brings up another image, showing it to you, “they’re not the exact same, but similar enough. Might be worth looking into.”
“Cult? That’s fun,” you murmur, dropping into the chair beside him, watching as he runs his hair through his hair. “Thank you for taking a look, and the food.”
His brows raise. “Those might be the most sincere words to come out of you today.”
“Shut up,” you say, although a small smile pulls at your lips.
Dinner is quick as you both make a plan for tomorrow – visit the local PD, check out the crime scene and investigate a few related areas of interest. Leon settles down on the couch soon after, adjusting his pillow a few times before grunting as he tries to get comfortable. You were right, he doesn’t fit. He looks so awfully crammed, knees bent and back hunched at an awkward angle that even you feel bad about it.
“Leon,” you say exasperatedly, “we can both fit on the bed. That can’t be good for your back.”
“This is fine,” he replies stubbornly, shifting onto his back uncomfortably, arm hanging off the edge. “I’ve slept in worse places.”
“I can’t deal with you complaining about your back tomorrow,” you say, gesturing towards the bed. You lay down, squirming to the side to make space. “See? You can have the other side.”
“You sure your boyfriend won’t mind?”
“What?” you ask confusedly, sitting up on your elbows. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Leon grunts as he gets to his feet, dropping down onto the bed without further protests. It’s a tight fit, but you both manage, a sliver of space left between your bodies. You stare up at the ceiling, lips pursing, feeling antsy.
“Did you…” you glance over at him, feeling entirely too bold for your own good, “did you ask because you were interested?”
He stares back, brows raising. “Interested in what?”
“In what?” you repeat irritably, “are you seriously playing dumb?”
Leon smiles back at you, shrugging lazily. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Maybe if you clarified what it was you wanted from me–”
“I don’t want anything from you!” you sputter, flushing hot. The bed creaks as you flop onto your side, facing away from him. “You’re old and weird and infuriating and–”
“I feel like you’re avoiding my better qualities.”
“Fuck you.”
“Yeah, I know you want to, baby.”
It’s a miracle your neck doesn’t snap with how fast you turn to look at him.
“May I remind you that this,” you gesture between your bodies wildly, “is a professional relationship?”
“Yeah?” Leon murmurs, raising his brows, “is that why you got off in the shower? Rubbed one out to make yourself feel better ‘bout liking me?” He looks unfazed when your jaw slackens, tapping the wall behind his head. “Thin walls.”
“That is none of your business.” You lean closer, eyes narrowing in an attempt to hide your growing embarrassment. “HR is going to have a fucking field day with you.”
You flop back onto your side, trying to put some distance between you, but there’s such a little space on the bed that you end up half-dangling over the edge. Leon doesn’t say anything, the silence between you thick and stretching on uncomfortably until you sit up, turning to face him.
He stares back at you, the bed creaking softly as he shifts, folding an arm under his head. His shirt stretches tight, thick bicep flexed and the sight is enough to make you lose your last nerve.
Your hand cups his jaw, head dipping to press a kiss to his lips. It’s meant to be quick, fleeting, to get whatever the fuck you have bottled up inside of you. Leon doesn’t seem to agree as he returns your kiss roughly, stubble scratching against your skin, his hand moving to cup the back of your head, blocking your escape.
“Where’re you going?” he murmurs, lips brushing over yours.
“This–” you whine softly when he kisses the underside of your jaw, fingers tightening into his shirt. “This is a bad idea.”
“I happen to be full of those.”
“You’re so fucking corny,” you groan, mouth dropping open as he trails kisses along your jaw lazily.
His lips are soft, calloused fingers massaging your scalp whilst an arm slides around your waist to pull you into his side. Another whine escapes you, head tipping towards him as his hand wanders under the hem of your hoodie, hot skin drifting over your waist and higher, his thumb grazing the curve of your breast.
“And you’re a fucking brat,” Leon says, watching your expressions closely as you whine and pant, pulling him towards you for another kiss, arms wrapping around his neck tightly.
He groans into your mouth, lips slotting over yours feverishly, his hand squeezing at the back of your neck. You squirm, throwing your leg over his hip, mewling when he licks into your mouth. Leon’s a good kisser, you think dazedly as his tongue strokes against yours in a filthy motion that has heat blistering in your stomach. His hand moves, circling around the front of your throat, squeezing gently.
You blink up at him hazily when he pulls away, lips slick with spit and pupils blown out. A smile spreads across your lips as you arch into him, hands sliding up over his strong forearm, fingers wrapping around his wrist.
“You can squeeze harder,” you whisper, pressing his fingers into your skin harder, gasping when he grants your request, eyes rolling back as the pressure around your throat constricts.
“That’s a little fucked up, baby,” Leon breathes out, watching as you writhe and suck in a ragged breath, his brows furrowing.
His brows raise when you glare at him, leaning over you to let his nose nudge against yours, kissing you gently before he tightens his grip a little more, drawing out a choked noise from you. There’s a heady fog settling over your mind the more he keeps you from barely breathing, something slow and syrupy creeping into the crevices of your brain as he presses a kiss to your cheek. He’s letting go before long though, brushing the pad of his thumb over your lips roughly.
“I can handle it,” you mumble hoarsely, head tipping as he massages your throat, huffing out a breath when he laughs against your cheek.
“Yeah?” Leon rasps, his gaze darkening when you suck his thumb into your mouth, tongue swirling around the digit needily, head lifting as you feign bobbing your head. “What, you want me to put you in your place or something? Is that what you need?”
The idea is appealing. You’ve been strung tight for months, between work and the never-ending cases that were stacking up on your desk, you hadn’t exactly gotten much time to yourself, to wind-down from the constant wear and tear brought about by the commitments demanded from you by the FBI.
“Maybe,” you say slowly, looking away. “I don’t know. I guess I just want some… attention or whatever.”
“From me?” Leon says, his fingers sliding over your jaw to guide your gaze back to him. “Your way of asking for attention is acting bratty?”
“I don’t know!” you sputter, pushing at his chest, feeling shy.
“Oh, that’s cute,” he coos, smiling down at you. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll give you all the attention you fuckin’ need.”
You squeak when he moves suddenly, sitting up before he’s dragging you towards him, maneuvering you until you're bent over his lap. A whimper is punched out of you when he squeezes the fat of your ass through your shorts, lashes fluttering when each consecutive grope grows rougher until it stings lightly.
“Guess if you’re into choking, you should be into something like this,” Leon murmurs thoughtfully, squeezing your ass greedily. “‘s been a while since I’ve done this with someone.”
“Since you’ve– ah– groped someone?” you ask, hips wiggling when his touches disappear, ass lifting involuntarily to chase after his touch.
“Kissed, touched,” he sucks in a sharp breath, “groped… fucked.”
You glance at him over your shoulder, brows raising curiously. “Can you still get it up?”
A sharp yelp escapes you when his hand comes down on your ass, hard and punishing. It stings, the pain spreading out over your ass unforgivingly. You try and glare at him but his hand is coming down again, landing another heavy spank to your other ass cheek.
“It was just a question!” you protest, squeaking when he spanks you again and again, eyes squeezing shut as the red-hot pain spreads over your ass, the ache in your pussy beginning to burrow deeper.
“I know,” Leon murmurs, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts. “Do you want me to stop?”
You pout into the sheets, voice quiet. “No.”
He huffs out a soft laugh, tapping your hip. You lift them, letting him tug your shorts down, mewling softly when he squeezes your ass, his fingers dipping past your panties, stretching them before letting them snap back against your skin.
“Cute panties,” he says, his hand rubbing over your stinging ass, fingers sneaking between your thighs, brushing over the drenched, ruined fabric. “Too bad you’ve made them all messy, baby. So fucking wet for me. You like my hand on your ass?”
“Yes,” you grumble, glaring at the wall. “Stop asking stupid questions, you jerk.”
You jolt when he spanks you, letting out an agitated breath when his hand palms over ass before coming down again in several repeated motions. A whimper escapes you when pleasure bleeds through your body, teeth sinking into your lower lip when the pace of Leon’s slaps quicken. It hurts but feels so good all the same, your thighs trying to squeeze together with how uncomfortably wet your pussy is becoming.
“Don’t– fuck! Don’t stop,” you mewl, arching your back, tears prickling at your eyes. “Leon– please ah–”
“Please?” Leon echoes, “look at that, you’re back to being polite. Good fuckin’ girl.”
You whine in agreement, nodding dazedly as you look back at him, unfocused eyes finding his lopsided smile, heart fluttering in your chest. You reach back for him, hand fighting his shirt, lips parting, eyes slipping shut when he leans towards you, head dropping to kiss you deeply, his fingers squeezing at your ass gently.
“You gonna stop being a brat? Hm? You wanna be my good girl, baby?” Leon rasps against your lips, stealing another soft kiss, his hands still palming at the blistering flesh of your ass, squeezing every now and again to force a pitiful whine out of you. He clicks his tongue when you slur, nose nudging against yours gently. “I asked you a question, sweetheart. Use your words for me.”
“Yes,” you manage out, pushing your ass back into his greedy, awaiting palm, a few stray tears dripping down your cheeks. “‘m gonna be– nghh– ‘m gonna be your good girl, Leon.”
“Yeah?” he breathes out, voice sounding rough as his thumb strokes over your cheek, wiping away the tears. “My sweet, pretty girl.”
“It– it hurts,” you babble, jerking in his lap when he rains an unsuspecting slap down onto your ass, teary eyes rolling back when his fingers slip between your thighs suddenly, rubbing at your swollen, aching clit through the dampened fabric of your panties. “Leon– ah fuck!”
“I know it does,” he soothes, pressing harder against your clit until your legs kick up, “but you asked for this, baby. Remember? You came up to me all pretty and said you wanted attention.”
“Stop being mean,” you hiccup, leaning into his palm when he offers it to you, nuzzling into the warm, rough skin.
“Mean?” Leon whispers, “‘m taking care of you, sweetheart.” He hums as he wipes away the saliva beading at the corner of your mouth, spreading it over your lips before his thumb presses down more firmly, a grunt of satisfaction leaving him when your lips part obediently. “There you go,” he breathes out, “suck on my thumb while I play with this needy, little pussy, baby.”
You whine, fingers clinging to his wrist as you suck lazily, tongue swirling around his thumb. His fingers rub against your wet panties, drawing out a soft mewl from you as he pets your clothed pussy.
“You can take them off,” you mumble around his thumb, biting gently before sucking again, happy to have your mouth occupied. “Want you to touch me.”
“I kinda like ‘em on,” Leon murmurs, his fingers grabbing at your thighs before they move, slipping past the waistband. “Besides, I can touch you like this.”
Your eyes flutter shut when his fingers glide through your sticky, puffy folds, breath hitching while Leon groans when he feels your wet pussy. His fingers are thicker than yours, slipping over the soft skin before the calloused pads find your clit. Your thighs twitch, toes curling when he starts to rub your clit using slow, measured circles.
“Is this how you do it?” he asks, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Did you play with your clit til you came in the shower?”
“Mhm,” you nod, peering up at him, lashes fluttering. You lap at his thumb, tongue flicking against the tip playfully, letting him watch.
“Fuck,” Leon rumbles, his thumb brushing over your bottom teeth before rubbing against your tongue. “So fuckin’ gorgeous, sweetheart. Look at you.”
You smile, lips wrapping back around his thumb soon after, eyes rolling back when his fingers leave your clit to play with your fluttering hole. A long whine leaves you when he circles your hole teasingly, the tip of a finger pressing in briefly before he draws them back out to rub at your clit.
“Put ‘em in,” you mewl, hips beginning to roll against his hand, one of your hands squirming underneath you to try and move his wrist. “Leon,” you grumble, pulling his thumb out of your mouth when he tries to press against your tongue again. “Put ‘em in.”
“What happened to being polite?” he muses, dipping his finger in again and then pulling it out.
“If you put ‘em in, I’ll be polite,” you reply, blinking up at him sweetly, a smug smile on your face.
Leon laughs, watching as your mouth drops open when he finally inches one finger inside of your clenching pussy, beginning to slowly fuck it in and out of you.
“Go on then,” he coaxes, “beg all pretty for me, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”
“P– nghh– please fuck me with your fingers,” you whimper, fingers moving to rub at your throbbing clit. “Please, Leon? Want– fuck– want another finger.”
He doesn’t make you beg any further, sinking another finger into you. You shove your face into the sheets, hips wiggling back to meet the thrust of his fingers, your fingers quickening their pace against your clit.
“Taking me so good,” Leon murmurs, using his other hand to spread you open. You flush, feeling entirely too exposed as he stares down at your pussy stretching around his fingers. “Pretty fuckin’ pussy just sucking my fingers in.”
Your walls flutter around his fingers at that, hand reaching out for him blindly, fingers managing to curl into his shirt. You yank him down, mumbling something incoherent around his lips before dragging him down further, lips pressing against his. You moan into his mouth when he starts thrusting his fingers in and out of you harder, curling them just right.
“Leon,” you pant against his mouth, biting his lower lip before tugging it. Leon groans, his fingers scissoring before you moan again, lapping at his lips. His eyes roll back when your lips find his neck, head tipping to bare more of it to you until you manage to move, crawling up onto his lap, his fingers slipping out of you momentarily.
His back hits the bed when you push at his chest, his fingers finding your pussy again, thumb rubbing at your clit while his fingers sink back inside. You shove your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in with a mewl, pawing at his firm chest as you let your hips drop, fucking yourself on his fingers.
“You gonna do that on my cock?” Leon moans, his fingers tangling in your hair when you kiss his neck feverishly, teeth scraping against his throat, the action enough to draw a hoarse growl from him. “Gonna ride my cock like you’re riding my fingers, gorgeous?”
“Yeah,” you murmur against his neck, latching onto his skin and sucking, all with the intent of leaving a mark of your own, like he had done on your ass. “Wanna– ahhh– wanna ride your cock, Leon.”
“Fuck,” he mutters, an arm clamping around your waist to hold you flush against him, his thumb pressing against your clit harder, the lewd noises of your pussy growing louder with every snap of his wrist. “You’re gonna drive me fucking insane.”
You smile against his throat, kissing the underside of his jaw when his throat bobs uncertainly.
“We haven’t even fucked yet,” you whisper, fingers slipping into his hair, pulling at the strands to make him expose his neck further, drawing out a pretty whine from his lips. “Think you can handle me?”
Your smile fades when his fingers pull out of you suddenly, a sharp yelp leaving you when he grabs your hips and manhandles you onto your stomach, the fabric of your panties tearing loudly as he rips them off of you and pulls your ass into the air.
“Those were comfy!” you protest, glaring at him. “Leon?” you jolt when he slaps your ass hard, pulling your asscheeks apart. “Leon, wait– ah fuck!”
You squeal when he buries his face between your thighs, lurching forward unsteadily on your knees, hands grabbing out for the pillows. He’s ruthless, tongue gliding through your warm folds, drinking down your slick with a rough growl, his hands squeezing at your hips, tugging you back onto his mouth when you try and squirm away. The stubble on his cheeks and jaw isn’t helping, scratching against your skin deliciously as he nips and spits onto your cunt.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he snaps lowly, biting punishingly into your thigh when you try kicking at his chest. “Huh?”
“I didn’t–” your leg jerks when Leon bites the back of your thigh, fingers curling into the pillows tightly when he bites the fat of your ass soon after, tongue laving over the bite.
“You didn’t what?” Leon asks, thumb finding your swollen bud, his tongue drifting over the inner crease of your thigh, barely shy of your aching pussy. “You didn’t mean it, is that it, baby?” he drawls, wet fingers rubbing over your pussy.
“Yes!” you choke out, hand slapping against the pillow when he sucks your clit into his mouth lazily, his nose pressing into your pussy, rough hands massaging your ass. “I– nghhhh– I didn’t mean it, Leon.”
“Oh, I think you did,” he sighs heavily, feigning disappointment. He clicks his tongue condescendingly. “I thought you were being my sweet girl, but turns out you’ve just got one hell of a mean streak. Just can’t help being a bit bratty, can you, pretty baby?”
“I’m not a brat,” you wail, shoving your face into the pillows the same time he presses his face into your pussy.
You don’t think anyone’s touched you like this before, let alone used their mouth like this. Leon’s strong, his hands clamping down onto you to keep you in place as he flicks his tongue over your clit, teeth scraping over the sensitive bud. You drool messily, whimpering and whining as he laps at your cunt, his tongue prodding against your hole.
“Oh fuck,” you whisper, glancing behind you, eyes wide to find Leon looking at you hungrily, his gaze dark and feral. You swallow nervously, thighs twitching when he kisses the curve of your ass. “Leon, Leon– oh fuck!”
A squeal escapes you when he presses his tongue into your clenching cunt, eyes squeezing shut so tightly that you feel dizzy, hips pressing back needily to meet the movements of his tongue. He fucks it into you, head tilting as he holds you against his mouth, a hand moving under your hoodie to stroke over the length of your back.
You arch, mewling, hips swaying dazedly as he caresses your pussy with his tongue. A soft, ragged moan leaves you when his mouth moves, returning to your clit, toes curling when he presses his fingers back into you.
“You sound so pretty falling apart on my tongue,” Leon murmurs, rubbing his tongue over your clit with a groan, his fingers crooking inside of you. “You gonna cum, baby? Pretty pussy’s clenching around my fingers.”
“Nghhh–” you slur into the pillows, trying and failing to keep your eyes open, your lids drooping shut when his fingers press against that spot inside of you, his fingers rubbing over it with just the right amount of pressure.
His stubble brushes against the backs of your thighs, lips soft as he trails hot kisses all over your skin. Your hips jerk when he fucks his fingers into you harder and faster, the pressure in your lower stomach growing greater. When his mouth latches back onto you, you moan loudly, knees beginning to buckle.
“Fuck! ‘m gonna cum– ‘m gonna fucking cum, Leon,” you whine, hugging the pillow to your chest, a sharp breath of air leaving you.
“Cum then, sweetheart,” he whispers, “be a good girl and cum for me.”
You cry out when he sucks harder on your clit, his face pressing harder into you, nose buried into your pussy. Leon groans loudly, the vibration shooting up through you, making your pussy clench around his fingers tightly. Your body trembles, knees giving out finally when his tongue flicks at your clit, another moan tearing its way out of your throat as you cum.
“That’s it,” Leon snarls, managing to hold you up despite your arms feeling rubber. “Cum just like that. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”
You whimper, still twitching as he laps at your cunt gently, tongue sweeping over your folds as he slurps down your slick, his thumb rubbing against your clit to draw out the final waves of your orgasm while his fingers slow their pace inside of you before pulling out completely.
Leon’s body is hot when he hovers above you, his hands brushing away the sweaty hair clinging to your skin, head dipping to press soft kisses to your cheek, his stubble oddly soothing as it rubs along your skin.
“You okay?” he asks softly, hands drifting down over your back, squeezing your waist soothingly, hands petting at your still reddened and slightly bruised ass. “I guess I’ve been a little pent up.”
“A little?” you murmur, fingers sliding into his hair when he kisses your neck. “I think you’re more than a little pent up, Leon.”
He grunts in agreement, dropping another kiss to your neck before laying down on his back, letting out a heavy breath.
“I haven’t exactly had time to relax,” he sighs, “too many fucking responsibilities ever since Raccoon City.”
You hum, sitting up, arms still a little wobbly. Leon watches you, his eyes tracking your every movement. You smile at him, eyes twinkling, fingers hooking into the hem of your hoodie before you pull it up over your head, tossing it to the side. He sucks in a sharp breath when he sees your breasts, hand reaching out before he pauses mid-reach. You take his hand, pulling it toward your breast, smile growing wider when he squeezes.
“Are my tits helping you relax?” you ask innocently, hands landing on his chest as you swing a leg over his hip, straddling him.
“Guess so,” Leon says, his other hand joining the fray, squeezing your untouched breast. “Pretty fuckin’ tits, sweetheart.”
Your eyes flutter shut as you let him play with your tits, distracted momentarily by the way his fingers move – pinching and tugging, thumb sweeping over your hardened nipples. It’s when you shift on his lap that you become aware of how hard his cock is, hips rolling against the clothed length.
“To answer your question,” he murmurs, tracing the curve of your breast, gently cupping one in his hand, thumb stroking over the soft flesh. “I can, in fact, still get it up.”
You snort, unable to stop the laugh that bubbles out of you. Leon grins back, his head tilting as he peers up at you, hands sliding down over your sides to grab your waist.
“I didn’t doubt you for a second,” you breathe out, voice laced with amusement, your hands beginning to pull at his shirt. He helps you, lifting his arms so that you’re able to pull it up over his head easily. “You do look pretty good for a 49-year-old.”
You lean forward, kissing him gently before you trail kisses down his neck and over his chest, lips brushing over his thick pecs. Leon sighs, his eyes slipping shut, a hand cupping the back of your head as you continue to lay his skin with kisses. You kiss his scars tentatively, squirming lower to kiss his abdomen, tongue darting out to trace the defined ridges of his abdomen.
“You tryna make me cum?” Leon rasps, half-lidded eyes watching you as you bite at his side playfully.
“That is a priority, yes,” you say, following the trail of coarse hair that lies under his navel and the thick bulge laying further down.
His hands in your hair tighten when you nuzzle into his sweatpants, nose brushing against the fabric. When you breathe in, you can smell him, all heady and musky and arousal is seeping into your bones once more, mouth sucking at his clothed cock.
“As much fuck– I would like that,” he grumbles, hips bucking when you mouth at him again, spit dampening his sweatpants, “I’ll cum if you put your mouth on me, baby.”
“Just one suck,” you mumble stubbornly, pulling his sweatpants and boxers down.
Your eyes widen when his cock bobs heavily, struggling with its own weight. You swallow, blinking dazedly as you take in the length and the thickness and the heavy balls that sit underneath. The tip is flushed angrily, darkened and dripping with globs of pre-cum that don’t seem to stop, his cock twitching when you lean towards it slowly.
“It’s big,” you whisper, glancing up at Leon before your eyes find his cock again, pussy beginning to throb as you imagine the stretch. “Really fucking big. You’re– you’re that hard for me?”
Leon grunts, his hand wrapping around his cock, giving it a quick pump. “Yeah, just for you, sweet girl.” He pumps it again, holding his cock towards you. “You said you wanted a taste, go ‘head, pretty baby.”
You don’t need any further invitation, licking your lips hungrily, tongue lolling out. You drag your tongue along the hot length of his cock, feeling the smooth skin and saltiness of his pre-cum. Leon groans, his hips bucking again, another glob of pre-cum dribbling out. You lean forward just in time, catching it on your tongue before your lips wrap around his thick cock.
“Fuck– fuck, baby,” Leon moans, twitching underneath you as you bob your head, beginning to suck. “Your mouth– hah– fuckkk.”
You peer up at him, eyes glittering as you let your tongue swirl around the head before you pull off, pressing a wet, sticky kiss to the tip of his cock.
“Don’t do that,” he mutters hoarsely, shaking his head, “don’t fucking kiss my cock like you’re fucking in love with it.”
You do it again, brows raising when his cock twitches, looking over to find his hand clenched into the sheets, knuckles nearly white.
“I think you like it,” you tease, moving to wrap your hand around his cock, stroking it slowly. “And… I think your cock likes it too.”
“Fuck me,” he growls, head tipping back when you take his cock back into your mouth, sucking and slurping lewdly. He groans and grunts through it, eyes peeling open to watch you swallow around his cock, your pupils blown wide with lust.
When his head lolls to the side, you take your chance, head dipping before he can stop you to suck one of his balls into your mouth. He tastes so dizzyingly nice, spit beginning to leak from the corners of your mouth. Leon’s cock kicks and you land one last kiss to the tip before he’s pulling you up towards him, muffling your whine with a messy kiss.
“Wanna ride it,” you mumble against his lips, worming closer, breasts squishing up against his firm chest.
Leon doesn’t answer, too busy tipping your head up by your chin to kiss you again, stealing your breath. You paw at his chest, fingers finally latching onto his thick biceps. Squeezing, you moan into his mouth when his tongue strokes against yours, arms wrapping around his neck as he pulls back up onto his lap.
Your hips roll, bare pussy gliding along the length of his cock, the tip catching on your newly swollen clit, making you twitch. He refuses to let up with the kisses, groaning into your mouth when you pull at his hair, feverishly swallowing up every little noise that bleeds from your throat.
“Yeah?” he breathes out finally, head tipping back for a moment as he catches his breath, calloused hands squeezing at your hips. “You wanna bounce on it? Hm? This needy pussy of yours need a fat cock to keep it happy, baby?”
“Mhm,” you nod, biting your lip, arousal blistering over your skin, lust beginning to cloud your thoughts once more. You press closer, lips brushing against his ear as though telling him a secret. “It needs your fat cock, Leon.”
“C’mere,” he mutters roughly, moving you up onto your knees, hand grasping the base of his cock to hold it steady for you. “Sink down on it, sweetheart.”
You shift, lowering yourself slowly, letting out a muffled gasp when you start to take his cock, the head of it already beginning to stretch out your pussy as it bullies its way past your entrance.
“‘s just so fucking thick,” you moan softly, peering up at him.
Leon hums, his thumb stroking over your lower lip while his other hand strokes over your hip soothingly.
“You got it, baby,” he smiles, dropping a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You took my fingers and my mouth so fucking good. Only got a few inches left, yeah?”
Your brows furrow as you bite your lip harder, gasping when you finally take all of him, pussy fluttering around his cock wildly in an attempt to adjust to his sheer size. You feel so full, so much so that you think you can feel him in your stomach.
“Good fuckin’ girl,” Leon whispers, his arms wrapping around your waist as he leans against the headboard of the bed. “Take what you need from me, sweetheart. ‘s all yours.”
“Leon,” you mewl, dragging out the syllables of his name, whimpering against his mouth when he kisses your cheek. “I… I can’t,” you say, flushing hot, “it’s too big, I don’t–”
“Good girls don’t give up,” he breathes out, hands moving to squeeze at your waist, “not to mention you were so headstrong earlier. Where’s that attitude now, baby?”
“You fucked it outta me,” you retort poutily, shoving your face into the crook of his neck.
“And to think you said I was old and weird– shit, baby–”
You relish in the loud, guttural groan he lets out when the walls of your pussy squeeze around him. Nuzzling closer, you kiss the spot under his ear before your hips move, rocking and rolling in a lazy rhythm as you get used to his size.
“I’m not giving up,” you murmur, glancing up at him as he watches you, head tipping back when his hand moves up over your breasts, slipping between them to wrap around your throat.
“Atta girl.”
Leon squeezes and you moan, grabbing his wrist as your knees dig into the bedding, hips beginning to rise and fall. He pulls you into a sloppy kiss, growling into your mouth, panting as his tongue slips over yours messily, his thumb prying your mouth open. You pant, tongue lolling out as you ride his cock, the bed creaking from your motions as you fuck yourself on his cock needily.
“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Leon rasps, watching you with dark eyes, his hair messy and hanging over one side of his face. “So fuckin’ gorgeous, sweetheart.”
You smile at him dopily, breath slowing when his hand tightens, starting to cut off your intake of oxygen. His nose nudges against yours, breath hot as he kisses you, lips working against yours eagerly until his grip loosens, letting you suck in a breath.
“You trust me that much?” Leon asks, smiling back at you with a feral look in his eyes when your hand wraps around his throat. “You think that’s a good idea, sweetheart? You wanna choke me out while you ride my cock?”
“Oh, you can take it,” you whisper, tightening your grip. Your movements don’t slow, thighs smacking against his as you bounce on his lap, your hand landing on his shoulder for leverage as you drop yourself down on his cock harder, setting a firmer rhythm. “Heard you– ahh– kicked ass back at Rhodes Hill.”
He grins, eyes glinting, a ragged noise leaving him when you pant into his mouth, licking at his lips.
“Yeah, I still hah– got it,” Leon muses, hands squeezing at your ass.
Your brows furrow when his grip tightens, a moan punched out of you when he grips your hips starting to lift you, using you as he fucks you on his cock.
“That’s it,” he drawls, controlling the rhythm and you, his forehead pressing against yours as he jerks you up and down his thick, throbbing cock. “Take my fat fuckin’ cock, baby. Cute, little pussy’s just swallowing me up.”
You whimper, hand sliding to cup the nape of his neck, your bodies moving together as his cock carves its way through your pussy, nestling against that spot before it glides out and drives back in. His chest is pressed against yours, firm muscle pressed against your soft breasts, the coarse thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing along your clit.
“Harder,” you whisper, eyes finding his, hips starting to sway back to meet his thrusts when he plants his feet into the bed, knees bending as he fucks his cock up into you. “Want it– nghh– harder, Leon.”
“That might strain my joints, baby,” he says softly, smiling up at you when you huff out an annoyed breath. “What? You were concerned about my bones.”
“Fuck your bones,” you groan, pushing at his chest, squirming off of his lap onto your hands and knees, ass swaying up into the air. You look back at him over your shoulder, hand worming between your thighs to spread yourself open for him, wet, dripping pussy all on display for him. “‘m so empty,” you whisper, voice lilting. “Fill me up?” You bat your lashes, “please?”
Leon mutters a low curse, his chest heaving as he rises up onto his knees, using your ankle to pull you toward him, his hand stroking his cock with uneven motions, knuckles tightening when he sees the slick webbing between your puffy folds and clinging to your thighs.
You’re half-expecting some witty remark, but all Leon does is brush a rough kiss to your shoulder, grunting into your ear before he’s notching the head of his cock against your aching pussy and driving his cock into you.
“Too– fuck! Too fast!” you squeal when he starts thrusting hard and fast, the bed beginning to rock with every snap of his hips.
“But you said you were empty,” Leon rumbles into your ear, “‘m just filling up this needy, pretty fucking cunt for you, sweetheart. So stop squirming,” his hand clamps down on your hips, “and fucking take it.”
You wail into the room, thrashing under him when his hips smack into your ass, balls slapping against your throbbing clit, the lewd noises echoing through the small space. He draws moan after moan out of you, his cock pounding into your pussy unforgivingly. You think you can feel it in your throat, his fat cock sliding through your gripping, fluttering walls.
Leon’s body is draping over your back, his mouth settling right next to your ear as he grunts and groans. Your toes curl, back arching when he pushes down on the small of your back, his breathing ragged as he grinds his impossibly thick cock into you.
“Fuck,” you mewl, spying his flexed bicep near your head, drool pooling into your mouth. Your head tilts as the muscle bulges, all inhibitions lost when you follow the line of his arm to stare hazily at his veiny forearm. You lean towards his bicep, teeth sinking into the thick muscle with a moan.
Leon’s breath hitches, his hips stuttering for a moment when he realizes you’ve bit him before his thrusts start up again, his hot, heavy cock pounding back into your needy pussy. You lick his bicep, tongue laving over his warm skin, eyes rolling back when his arm moves, wrapping around your throat, his bicep pressed up against the side of your neck.
“You keep– fuck– staring at my arms, sweetheart,” Leon rasps, grinning against your cheek when you let out a choked moan, his breath cut off by a low moan of his own. “Is this what you need? A strong arm wrapped around your throat, fat cock pounding into your needy cunt and sweet, little kisses?” He punctuates his question by kissing your temple.
“I– nghhh– need you,” you whine, feeling dazed as he drops his weight onto you a little more, enough so that you can feel every inch of him against your back.
You can’t really do anything but take it, his skin slapping against yours and breath rough in your ear. When his fingers move, finding your clit to rub the swollen bud, you whimper, clutching the sheets, nails raking against the fabric as the string of pleasure draws tighter.
“‘m gonna cum,” you say hoarsely, cunt clenching around his cock desperately. “Leon– Leon, Leon, Leon!”
“‘m right here, baby,” Leon whispers, kissing your cheek, “taking my cock so well. Doing so– fuck– good for me, yeah? Cum whenever you want, sweet girl, I’ve got you.”
Your body jerks when his fingers rub against your clit faster, a ragged scream erupting from you as you cum violently. Leon swears, his grip on you faltering, the arm on your throat drawing away as you twitch on his cock, grasping at the sheets, at the pillows until Leon offers you his hand.
Your fingers lace together with his and you squeeze tightly, gasping uncontrollably until his mouth finds yours, capturing your lips in a kiss. You whimper into his mouth, knees weak and thighs tired, your death-grip on his hand loosening when he soothes you with soft kisses. Your pussy clenches and Leon groans into your mouth, his hips jerking forward unevenly.
“‘m gonna cum too, pretty baby,” he grunts, fingers pushing at your ass gently, hips beginning to pull away. “Greedy, little pussy’s clenching around me too tight, I can’t–”
“Inside,” you mumble, letting your hips sway back tiredly, trying to swallow down the length of his cock. “Cum inside.”
“That’s– shittt– a bad idea, baby,” Leon groans, his head dropping forward to rest against your shoulder as his hips rock into you, pace stuttering.
You can feel his cock throb and twitch, a soft mewl escaping you. “You said you were full of bad ideas.”
Leon lets out a startled laugh, his breath coming out in short, choppy bursts. “I did– hahhh– I did say that. Take my cum then, sweetheart, gonna flood this perfect fuckin’ cunt with cum.”
He grips your hips, thrusting forward with a hard drive of his cock. Leon swears under his breath, his hips jerking into your ass as he cums, cock kicking and throbbing as hot, thick cum floods your pussy.
You let out a contented noise when he moans into your ear, low and guttural, the sound making you feel warm. His softening cock slips out after a few moments and Leon pulls himself away from you, the bed protesting under the weight of you both. You curl up into his side, head dropping over his chest, eyes drooping when you feel the steady beat of his heart.
Leon’s hand settles on your head, stroking over your hair lazily as he pants, chest rising and falling.
“Do you feel relaxed?” you murmur, peering up at him with a sleepy smile.
“I feel fucked out,” Leon mutters, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek, rubbing at the spot of drool that had pooled at the corner of your mouth. “You did a number on me, sweetheart.”
“I aim to please.”
He laughs, hauling you closer and you smile, kissing the underside of his jaw. “You went above and beyond, I can tell you that much.”
You snort, arms wrapping around his neck. “Am I gonna get that in writing?”
“I’ll think about it,” Leon murmurs, his fingers slipping under your chin to tip your head, lips pressing against yours. You hum into the kiss, fingers tangling in his soft hair, a quiet noise leaving you as he squeezes your ass.
When Leon pulls away, you chase after his lips, eyes fluttering shut when he returns your kiss just as eagerly, your thigh hooking over his hip, brows furrowing when you feel his cock against your thigh.
You look down, cheeks flushing when you find his spent cock beginning to harden, the fat length bobbing gently as it fills out.
“Already?” you murmur, sighing softly when he leaves stubbly kisses along your jaw.
“What can I say?” Leon whispers, his hips bucking when your hand wraps around his hardening cock. “You uh… bring out the best in me, I guess.”
You raise your brows, unable to stop the wide smile that spreads across your face. “Your best attribute is your cock? That’s a little disappointing.”
He grins, groaning when you kiss his pec.
“You didn’t seem to think it was disappointing when I fucked you with it.”
“It is nice,” you acquiesce, head tipping back as he leans into you, trailing hot kisses down your neck, his hips beginning to rock lazily, meeting the strokes of your hand.
“I do have other nice, non-sexual attributes,” Leon says, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb stroking over your skin gently. There’s a light flush settled on his cheeks and he clears his throat, sucking in a soft breath when you squeeze his cock. “Maybe you’d like to find out sometime?”
Your smile softens, affection beginning to creep in through the cracks of your ribs. Leaning forward, you kiss him gently.
I think if you had gone to kindergarten with Sylus, he would have heard that stupid thing people say about little boys "if he annoys you, it's because he likes you", and he would have thought he should do that! Because he likes you!
So he waddles over to you (you're putting stickers on your face because why not) and just. Pushes you. You fall on your butt and immediately start crying.
It's the worst day of his toddler life. He kneels down and apologizes profusely, saying he didn't want you to cry, he just wanted to annoy you so you'd know he likes you! And he hugs you with his little arms to try to make amends.
He ends up in time out (one of the teachers saw the whole thing and is lowkey giggling, but isn't gonna let it fly), while you watch some cartoons to feel better.
content- Caleb uses his evol when the reader gets tired of riding him.
(Take a moment to appreciate this absolutely delcious man)
You couldn't think straight, head thrown back as his thick cock filled your pussy to the brim when you dropped down, moaning and gasping, utterly consumed by the heat of pleasure. Your hand trailed up his torso, nails digging into the flesh and leaving deep crimson lines over the dips and highs of muscles. When you looked at him, Caleb was already staring at you, arms tied up to the headboard of your shared bed, dark hair tousled, and his unnerving violet eyes, burning as his body arched against the bed when you lifted yourself up from his cock only to sink back down.
Beautiful...
Caleb looked beautiful, sweat glistening on his forehead, arms flexing against the restraint, which was his own tie you had slipped off earlier. He groaned, feeling you clench around him, legs bending to support your back, and his toes curling into the mattress. "Oh fuck- baby~"
His chest heaved with a gasp, mouth falling open, and he closed his eyes to unravel in the most delicious feeling of your tight walls clamping around him and wrapping around him, your weight on his lap and the wetness that smeared on his pelvis.
"C-Caleb..." You moaned, clutching your tits and looking down at him with a smirk, knowing that he wants to do it for you but can't. He didn't care for the way the tie tightened around his wrist, but he had also forgotten that he could easily rip the fabric apart and grab hold of you if he wanted to.
He was right where he wanted to be...
"Yeah, baby, ride my cock like a good girl." He moaned, and his hips stuttered. You whimpered, the thick head of his cock nudging further into you. Your thighs burned and trembled when you lifted yourself up again, leaning forward and draping yourself on top of him. He caught your mouth in a searing kiss, headboard creaking when he tried to lift off the bed to grab you.
A giggle escaped you at his attempt and pulled back to grind down on his shaft, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth and around. Caleb's eyes were blazing when he growled, a bead of sweat dripped down the curve of his neck to pool at the base of his throat. You licked it right off the column. Your pace was eratic and it was absolutely betraying you.
"Hnghhh Caleb..." You gasped. "Your cock is so big I could cum right now..."
"Yeah? Go on, baby... make yourself cum all over me." He hummed, knowing that your legs are giving out, smirking. A moan slipped from him, low and reverberating through your core, and he leaned back and sunk on to the mattress. There is an evil smirk tugging at his lips. "But seems like you are getting tired, pipsqueak?"
"Shut up..." You refused to let him know your body was getting exhausted chasing the pleasure, every nerve on fire and every muscle pulled taut at the movements of you bouncing on his leaking cock.
However, he already knew it.
When your pace slowed to catch your breath and let your legs rest, you are hauled up into the air, all the way off his cock, only to drop back down. The cry that tore from your chest echoed in your room, and you glared at Caleb to see how he untied his restraints. But- oh... his arms are still perfectly tied up against the headboard.
"C-Caelb what-" You couldn't finish the sentence before your weight was lifted off once more and dropped down, cock pulsing as it speared right into your pussy with a filthy squalch.
Evol- You mind hazily wrapped around the shimmer of his evol. He was using his evol to move you. Freaky bastard.
"Caleb- fuck!"
"That's a good girl, letting me fuck you onto my cock, huh..." Caleb grunted, thighs pressed against your back. His back arched once again at the way your nails dug down onto his shoulders as you were once again pulled up and down onto his cock, evol levitating you like you weigh nothing more than just air. "What is with a power if I can't even please my girl with it? Hmmm, pipsqueak?"
You could barely form a coherent word, pussy beginning to spasm around him, fluttering and tightening around him like a vice. "Gonna cum...C-Caleb... 'm gonna-"
Caleb bucked, your hips coming down to meet with his thrust, and you whole body caved and opened, a white hot pleasure spearing up your spine and spread through your core till your eyes closed and ears rang. You cried out, going rigid and missing out on the way he filled the condom with his release. "Fuck- fuck- fuck- baby..."
His body jerked, wrists tugging at the tie and body heaving with his laboured breath. Sweat streamed down his arms and his neck all the way down his torso, glistening. You fell limp over him, pussy still clenching at the overwhelming pleasure that swelled within you. You were trying to catch your breath when you felt him breathily laugh beneath you. "Should have done that a long time ago..."
Caleb said, kissing your forehead and nuzzling close despite his tied arms. You exhaled, arms weakly trying to hold you as you lifted yourself up and leaned over to untie his hands. The knot came undone, and he stretched his wrists and flexed his fingers, blood rushing back to them.
"You were insane to actually do it..." You huffed, and his hands apologetically rubbed your back, fingertips pressing against the dipped line of your spine.
"I'd like to think myself clever for it, actually, pipsqueak. Your legs were getting tired." He said, kissing you slowly, tongue slipping in between your lips and finding yours. A soft hum escaped you and you could feel his cock rising back to life inside you already.
( It is not like a romantic romantic troupe but more like a what if Gojo spoke to Geto before he decided to leave...
Kinda teared up writing this... its a bit angsty... hehe... ENJOY!!!! )
The sun was blazing up ahead, radiating a tremendous heat. It pulsed and pulled all life away from everything it shone upon, and Geto sighed, feeling a bead of sweat slip down the line of his spine. It was unbearably hot, and his head wavered back and forth, cloudy and dry. However, he couldn't bear change into the white t-shirt and shorts that were locked away in his locker. He had lost far too much weight, and it had begun to be evident even through the oversized uniform that was hanging on his frame. The last thing he needed was for his friends to find out.
"Suguru~" He watched as Gojo walked towards him, sunglasses perched up high on his nosebridge, arms dangling in a way that said he was bored out of his wits. Gojo swung an arm around Geto's shoulder and started dragging him towards the nearest tree, settling by the roots and leaning back against the massive trunk. Geto chuckled softly when Gojo leaned his head against his shoulder, sighing dramatically.
"You are heavy, Satoru..." Geto mumbled, yet didn't bother shove him aside. Instead, he looked far away at the Jujutsu High building standing tall upto the clear sky quietly. He didn't realise he had sighed for the second time in a row, but Gojo tilted his head to glance at his friend, taking in the side profile he so much cherished and then looked at where he was looking.
"How was it here, Suguru, while I was away?" Gojo asked, already predicting the answer that would spill out of Geto. He watched how the dark strand of his brush against his cheek when Geto smiled, eyes pressing together into crescents.
"Really quiet and calm since there was no one else to run rampant," Geto answered, voice laced with sarcasm, but Gojo saw it, the way his neck was thinner than he last seen, peeking up from his collar, the dark circles that loomed beneath his eyes, a weary rise and fall of his chest when he breathed.
"And you?"
"I was alright." Geto shrugged. "Had some missions, here and there. Hmmm... Shoko wanted to go out, but I couldn't go with her, so she went with Nanami and Haibara. I told her I would buy her lunch, but I still haven't, so she is probably-"
"Suguru..." Gojo pressed, lifting his head and looking at the other, who halted his sentence and glanced back. Geto read in between the silent moments and looked away, his lips curling into a fragment of a tired smile. However, Gojo cradled his face with a hand and got him to look, observing how Geto was trying to play it cool.
"What are you-"
But Gojo shook his head, his brows pinching with a worry that weighed down on his heart. Was he truly that blind? "I'm sorry, I left." He said, more like a confession than an apology, his thumb brushing back and forth over the prominent lines of Geto's cheekbone. He said it again. "I'm sorry, I left you. I shouldn't have to tell you to tell me when you are struggling. I should have seen it. I should have been here."
"Satoru, stop, please..." Geto chuckled, dryly, trying to playfully swat away Gojo's hand, but he didn't budge, both of his hands framing his face. "I'm alright. Really..."
Gojo felt his heart swell so much within his ribcage that it was suffocating. He took in the way Geto was wearing his uniform in a weather that demanded something loose and light, the updo of his dark hair that seemed to be crinkled from lack of care when he had always been so diligent about it's norishment.
"You had no choice," Geto softly removed his sunglasses, inhaling upon seeing the magnificent blue eyes, the way they were crystal clear like pools of blessed water, the way they now looked saddened and were about to spill tears. "We had no choice, Satoru."
With a trembling exhale, Gojo leaned in, wrapping his arms around him and feeling the radiating warmth from him. His fingers dipped into the curve of his nape, slipping through the hair and pulling at the tie, breaking the strand free. A cool breeze swept over them, and Geto sank into the embrace, his weight entirely falling onto Gojo's arms that only tightened. "Don't leave, Suguru..."
Geto's eyes widened, breath stuttering on his throat, and he tried to pull back and look, yet Gojo had a grip on him, a frantic hold that clutched onto him like a child crying for a favourite worn-out blanket. "How-"
"Please, don't go anywhere and stay here with me." Gojo whimpered, voice muffled against his shoulder. His breath fell in ragged huffs, and Geto felt his throat tighten like it was suddenly too small for the air he breathed. His whole body shuddered, mind storming like a violent cyclone, and his gut felt heavy, perhaps all the curses he swallowed stirring uncomfortably. "I'm not the strongest. We are, but I, alone, am not. Do you hear me...?"
Geto nodded, tears oozing out of his eyes and his fingers helplessly grasping for the other, fisting the fabric of his t-shirt. A cry that was both heart-wrenching and quiet tore from him, escaping like a bird finally let out of a cage, and he crumpled. "It- It was hard, Satoru..."
"I see you, and I won't go anywhere without you. Wherever it is we can go together. So, please don't leave me."
Heard someone say (I can't exactly remember who and where, so credit to that person) that Caleb would use his evol to make the mc ride him when she gets tired instead of just using his hands... and it got me thinking- SHOULD I WRITE A FIC...?
LIke im not sure if someone has already written it and stuff... I'll let you guys tell me... hehe
Wrote this while I'm on my period, and it was in my drafts for so long. Hope this brings comfort to anyone else who is on their period. luv you <3
Xavier
"Hello, partner." Xavier popped up around the corner of your table, blue eyes sparkling endearingly. However, you were draped over the table top, a pained crease on your brow. He frowned and crouched down to look at your face, and pushed back a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Hey, everything alright?"
You groaned, lifting your head up to look at him and clutching a warm water bottle against your stomach. "Xavier, I'm on my period."
He cooed, pulling you into a nice, warm hug, his hand stroking your hair while he pressed fluttering kisses on your round cheek. Then he pulled back, cupping your face to look at you, and you pouted, bearing through the cramping pain. "Why not go home, baby?"
"I can't." You said, looking at your open computer, the cursor in the document was blinking with patience. "I still have a report to fill in that I need to submit today."
Xavier pulled in the nearest chair, gently nudged yours to the side, and sat next to you. He tilted the laptop screen towards himself and reached out to you, wrapping an arm around you to get you to lean against him. "Take a small nap, I'll finish this, and, hey,"
He pinned you with a stare when you tried to protest. "No saying no. Now take some rest."
A relieved sigh escaped your lips, and you let your weight rest against him, head on his shoulder. Soft clicking of the keyboard filled the quiet office, along with the soft huffs of your slowing breath.
It felt as though so much time had passed when he shook you awake, gently, his lips kissing your lips over and over. You stir awake. "Hmm?"
"Let's go home, baby. Work is done. We can get a nice hot chocolate on the way and something you would like to eat. Chicken soup sounds good?" Xavier smiled and smoothed down your hair.
You shook your head, feeling nauseated at the sound of chicken soup, which you loved, usually, and grimaced. Xavier chuckled, running a hand through your hair. "No chicken soup? Hmmm... then how about some dumplings?"
He watched how your eyes began to shine, and immediately decided then. "Okay! We are getting some warm dumplings on the way, and we can have dinner all cuddled up on the couch. Sounds good?"
"Yeah..." You sighed contentedly while he packed your things from the table and took your bag. He held out his hand for you and pulled you against him when you stood up and kissed your forehead. "Thank you, Xav. I love you."
"I love you too, babe."
Zayne
Zayne was fast asleep, crashed out after coming back home from the hospital when he felt that your side of the bed was empty and cold. His eyes snapped open, hand darting in search of you, only to realise that you weren't in bed. He sat up, the covers pooling down to his waist, and he called out for you.
"Honey...?" His voice bounced off the bedroom walls, and there was no reply from you. Zayne stepped out of bed, peeked into the restroom and found it empty with the lights on. He padded out to the corridor, walking down the staircase. "My love...?"
He heard a discontented grunt from the living room, and his heart leapt from his chest. His steps quickened towards the living room, and he found you curled up on the sofa, knees pressed to your chest, and your face buried there as you continued to sway back and forth. His breath caught on his chest.
Zayne crouched down on the floor next to you, hand caressing your hair as he searched for your face. "What's wrong, honey? Are you hurt?"
He only got a pained whimper in reply from you as you moved to a different position, pressing a square pillow onto your abdomen. Zayne's hand rested on your back, pulling the blanket over your frame and kissing your shoulder in concern. "Did you get your period, my love?"
You nodded weakly, mewling as you pressed down on your abdomen when it cramped, tears springing from your eyes. Zayne stood up, shuffling into the kitchen. He took your heating pad from the cabinet and grabbed some painkillers before coming back to you. He pulled you onto his lap and let you lean against his shoulder, softly urging you to drink the painkillers. "Drink some more water. Just little bit more."
"Zaynie..." Your hands curled on his shirt, clinging to him while he massaged your back gently, his fingers working diligently and working loose the aching muscles.
"Couldn't find you in bed. Didn't know you were in pain, my love." The exhaustion was rather heavy on you, and your eyes closed at the comfort of the heating pad warming your lower stomach. His hands wrapped around you strongly while he kissed your forehead, lips pressing so softly on your skin, over and over, and sleep had taken over you, pain dull now and his chest that rose and fell with his breaths lulling you... "I got you now. I got you..."
Rafayel
"Rafayel, not right now..." You said that when your boyfriend started saying something about the seas going dry and the fish growing legs, during the time you were late getting back from the grocery store. It wasn't that you disliked his bratty and spoiled personality, infact you loved it. But, not right now, when a thousand jagged knives are piercing your uterus and your legs feel like they are about to fall off your body.
You pushed past him to place the bags on the kitchen counter. He frowned at the lack of your usual retort and loomed closer to you, his arm wrapping around your waist. Damn hormones, and you started crying, tears welling in your eyes as you sniffle and look at him. Rafayel gasped, cupping your face and searching for any apparent reason why you might be upset. "Hey, Hey, my love, what's wrong?"
He slowly brought you closer, body pressing against his as his eyes held yours. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I was only joking- it doesn't matter if I was joking, shouldn't have said it."
You hiccuped, already embarrassed by this absolute drama you have cause but the stupid tears won't stop as they overflow down your cheeks and drip down in small pearls from your chin. The lump in your throat wouldn't go away, and your stomach was hurting. Rafayel gently picked you up, going over to the living room couch and clutched you against him. His nose nuzzled against your hair, and he wiped your tears with his fingers, brows creasing with worry. "What's wrong, little fishy?"
"I got my period in the grocery store..." You whimpered out, wiping your tears with your sweater sleeve, sniffling as your breath hitched. "And it hurts..." You started crying again.
Rafayel gathered you to his chest, tightly embracing you and leaving a big, deep kiss on your cheek. You buried your face in his neck, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin and the heart beating beneath your palm. "Oh, my love, I'm sorry. I'll get you your heating pad and some tea? Hmmm...?"
"No!" You protested, already too cosy on his lap. "Don't goooo..."
He chuckled and grabbed you again, firmly pressing you onto him, a warm palm running up and down your back when you fisted his white shirt. "Okay, I'm gonna stay right here then. Right here."
"You are amazing, okay...?" You said, remembering that you were pretty mean to him earlier. and he hummed.
"I know, baby, I know."
Sylus
Sylus was an organised man, and when it came to you, everything was stored in his mind in perfect order. Which meant that he always knew when your menstrual cycle would be and was super prepared for it.
"Sweetie, can you move around for me to massage your back? It will help with your pain." His deep voice was a heavy blanket over you when you groaned and turned over to your front. You felt his hands, lifting up your hoodie and gently pressing on your back muscles, kneading and caressing. His touch was so warm and careful, working the pain out of your body.
"Feels good, darling?"
You hummed, eyes drooping low with fatigue, and you mumbled. "Sylus?"
"Yeah?"
"How do you always know when I'm on my period?" You asked, sighing when he put nice pressure on the back of your thighs and you heard him chuckle and press a kiss to your back, over the spine.
"I just know, sweetie," Sylus replied, pulling the sweater back down and lying next to you. He pulled the covers over both of you and spooned you. "I like to know when you need me the most, so I can have everything and anything you want ready. Extra sanitary napkins? I got you. Ice cream in the specific butterscotch flavour you like? I got you. Dark chocolate and not anything else? I got you. Massages and lots of cuddles and your hot water bottle? Done and done and done."
He kissed the back of your head when he heard you giggle into the pillow and buried his face in your hair, his palm settling on the small of your back. "You matter to me, my darling. Every small detail about you."
"You can't real, Sylus." You said, sighing, and turned to tuck yourself against him, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne. "You must be fictional."
"Well, then, my love, let this fictional man take care of you." He kissed your forehead. "I love you so much."
Caleb
"Pipsqueak," Caleb said, scooping some chocolate ice cream into two bowls and stabbing your ice cream with the spoon the way you like, and passing it to you where you sat by the counter. "Are you sure you don't want to take some rest?"
You were typing away the due chapter of your story, fingers ferociously punching the keys of your keyboard. Your hair was a mess, and your eyes were bloodshot with lack of sleep, and on top of it, you are on your period, resulting in a very crappy, very unhappy mood.
"I'm fine." You muttered, gulping down a chunk of ice cream. "Just gotta kill this character and then I'll just go to sleep."
"Killing the character?" Caleb questioned, sitting next to you and peeking into your screen. "Why are you killing him? You loved this character."
"Yeah, but now he is just pissing me off."
He hummed, leaning over and kissing your forehead, only to get swatted away by you, and he pouted, rubbing his head on your shoulder as he whined. "NOoooo, don't ignore your poor boyfriend..."
"Hey," You huffed, annoyed and amused at the same time, and tried to push him to the side, which was a failed attempt as he wouldn't even budge. "You are making me type the wrong letters. Stop, Caleb."
Caleb didn't let go, clutching on to you and kissing your neck, bribing you with some good time. "Let's go to bed. I'll massage your stomach and your back. I'll also be your human heated blanket, and you can use me however you want. We can cuddle, and we can take a nap."
You squinted your eyes, contemplating on his offer. "Hmm... tempting... But no, I have to kill this character. We can cuddle after."
But then, he watched your brows crease, inhale deep and then...
ACHOO....!
Your face turned red, eyes blowing wide as you stiffened on your seat and you looked over at Caleb.
"Oh oh...?" He said, and you nodded.
"Oh oh, indeed..." You stood up, grimacing at the treacherous feeling of your period blood that erupted with the sneeze flow. "I think i gotta change into something else."
Caleb saved your chapter and closed the laptop as you waddled to the bathroom to get changed. He picked the ice cream bowls and took them to your shared bedroom, closed the curtain, fluffed out the pillows and waited for you to come.
"I guess a nap wouldn't hurt." You mumbled, entering the room and sighing at how happy Caleb looks when he opened the covers for you.
( It is not like a romantic romantic troupe but more like a what if Gojo spoke to Geto before he decided to leave...
Kinda teared up writing this... its a bit angsty... hehe... ENJOY!!!! )
The sun was blazing up ahead, radiating a tremendous heat. It pulsed and pulled all life away from everything it shone upon, and Geto sighed, feeling a bead of sweat slip down the line of his spine. It was unbearably hot, and his head wavered back and forth, cloudy and dry. However, he couldn't bear change into the white t-shirt and shorts that were locked away in his locker. He had lost far too much weight, and it had begun to be evident even through the oversized uniform that was hanging on his frame. The last thing he needed was for his friends to find out.
"Suguru~" He watched as Gojo walked towards him, sunglasses perched up high on his nosebridge, arms dangling in a way that said he was bored out of his wits. Gojo swung an arm around Geto's shoulder and started dragging him towards the nearest tree, settling by the roots and leaning back against the massive trunk. Geto chuckled softly when Gojo leaned his head against his shoulder, sighing dramatically.
"You are heavy, Satoru..." Geto mumbled, yet didn't bother shove him aside. Instead, he looked far away at the Jujutsu High building standing tall upto the clear sky quietly. He didn't realise he had sighed for the second time in a row, but Gojo tilted his head to glance at his friend, taking in the side profile he so much cherished and then looked at where he was looking.
"How was it here, Suguru, while I was away?" Gojo asked, already predicting the answer that would spill out of Geto. He watched how the dark strand of his brush against his cheek when Geto smiled, eyes pressing together into crescents.
"Really quiet and calm since there was no one else to run rampant," Geto answered, voice laced with sarcasm, but Gojo saw it, the way his neck was thinner than he last seen, peeking up from his collar, the dark circles that loomed beneath his eyes, a weary rise and fall of his chest when he breathed.
"And you?"
"I was alright." Geto shrugged. "Had some missions, here and there. Hmmm... Shoko wanted to go out, but I couldn't go with her, so she went with Nanami and Haibara. I told her I would buy her lunch, but I still haven't, so she is probably-"
"Suguru..." Gojo pressed, lifting his head and looking at the other, who halted his sentence and glanced back. Geto read in between the silent moments and looked away, his lips curling into a fragment of a tired smile. However, Gojo cradled his face with a hand and got him to look, observing how Geto was trying to play it cool.
"What are you-"
But Gojo shook his head, his brows pinching with a worry that weighed down on his heart. Was he truly that blind? "I'm sorry, I left." He said, more like a confession than an apology, his thumb brushing back and forth over the prominent lines of Geto's cheekbone. He said it again. "I'm sorry, I left you. I shouldn't have to tell you to tell me when you are struggling. I should have seen it. I should have been here."
"Satoru, stop, please..." Geto chuckled, dryly, trying to playfully swat away Gojo's hand, but he didn't budge, both of his hands framing his face. "I'm alright. Really..."
Gojo felt his heart swell so much within his ribcage that it was suffocating. He took in the way Geto was wearing his uniform in a weather that demanded something loose and light, the updo of his dark hair that seemed to be crinkled from lack of care when he had always been so diligent about it's norishment.
"You had no choice," Geto softly removed his sunglasses, inhaling upon seeing the magnificent blue eyes, the way they were crystal clear like pools of blessed water, the way they now looked saddened and were about to spill tears. "We had no choice, Satoru."
With a trembling exhale, Gojo leaned in, wrapping his arms around him and feeling the radiating warmth from him. His fingers dipped into the curve of his nape, slipping through the hair and pulling at the tie, breaking the strand free. A cool breeze swept over them, and Geto sank into the embrace, his weight entirely falling onto Gojo's arms that only tightened. "Don't leave, Suguru..."
Geto's eyes widened, breath stuttering on his throat, and he tried to pull back and look, yet Gojo had a grip on him, a frantic hold that clutched onto him like a child crying for a favourite worn-out blanket. "How-"
"Please, don't go anywhere and stay here with me." Gojo whimpered, voice muffled against his shoulder. His breath fell in ragged huffs, and Geto felt his throat tighten like it was suddenly too small for the air he breathed. His whole body shuddered, mind storming like a violent cyclone, and his gut felt heavy, perhaps all the curses he swallowed stirring uncomfortably. "I'm not the strongest. We are, but I, alone, am not. Do you hear me...?"
Geto nodded, tears oozing out of his eyes and his fingers helplessly grasping for the other, fisting the fabric of his t-shirt. A cry that was both heart-wrenching and quiet tore from him, escaping like a bird finally let out of a cage, and he crumpled. "It- It was hard, Satoru..."
"I see you, and I won't go anywhere without you. Wherever it is we can go together. So, please don't leave me."
( It is not like a romantic romantic troupe but more like a what if Gojo spoke to Geto before he decided to leave...
Kinda teared up writing this... its a bit angsty... hehe... ENJOY!!!! )
The sun was blazing up ahead, radiating a tremendous heat. It pulsed and pulled all life away from everything it shone upon, and Geto sighed, feeling a bead of sweat slip down the line of his spine. It was unbearably hot, and his head wavered back and forth, cloudy and dry. However, he couldn't bear change into the white t-shirt and shorts that were locked away in his locker. He had lost far too much weight, and it had begun to be evident even through the oversized uniform that was hanging on his frame. The last thing he needed was for his friends to find out.
"Suguru~" He watched as Gojo walked towards him, sunglasses perched up high on his nosebridge, arms dangling in a way that said he was bored out of his wits. Gojo swung an arm around Geto's shoulder and started dragging him towards the nearest tree, settling by the roots and leaning back against the massive trunk. Geto chuckled softly when Gojo leaned his head against his shoulder, sighing dramatically.
"You are heavy, Satoru..." Geto mumbled, yet didn't bother shove him aside. Instead, he looked far away at the Jujutsu High building standing tall upto the clear sky quietly. He didn't realise he had sighed for the second time in a row, but Gojo tilted his head to glance at his friend, taking in the side profile he so much cherished and then looked at where he was looking.
"How was it here, Suguru, while I was away?" Gojo asked, already predicting the answer that would spill out of Geto. He watched how the dark strand of his brush against his cheek when Geto smiled, eyes pressing together into crescents.
"Really quiet and calm since there was no one else to run rampant," Geto answered, voice laced with sarcasm, but Gojo saw it, the way his neck was thinner than he last seen, peeking up from his collar, the dark circles that loomed beneath his eyes, a weary rise and fall of his chest when he breathed.
"And you?"
"I was alright." Geto shrugged. "Had some missions, here and there. Hmmm... Shoko wanted to go out, but I couldn't go with her, so she went with Nanami and Haibara. I told her I would buy her lunch, but I still haven't, so she is probably-"
"Suguru..." Gojo pressed, lifting his head and looking at the other, who halted his sentence and glanced back. Geto read in between the silent moments and looked away, his lips curling into a fragment of a tired smile. However, Gojo cradled his face with a hand and got him to look, observing how Geto was trying to play it cool.
"What are you-"
But Gojo shook his head, his brows pinching with a worry that weighed down on his heart. Was he truly that blind? "I'm sorry, I left." He said, more like a confession than an apology, his thumb brushing back and forth over the prominent lines of Geto's cheekbone. He said it again. "I'm sorry, I left you. I shouldn't have to tell you to tell me when you are struggling. I should have seen it. I should have been here."
"Satoru, stop, please..." Geto chuckled, dryly, trying to playfully swat away Gojo's hand, but he didn't budge, both of his hands framing his face. "I'm alright. Really..."
Gojo felt his heart swell so much within his ribcage that it was suffocating. He took in the way Geto was wearing his uniform in a weather that demanded something loose and light, the updo of his dark hair that seemed to be crinkled from lack of care when he had always been so diligent about it's norishment.
"You had no choice," Geto softly removed his sunglasses, inhaling upon seeing the magnificent blue eyes, the way they were crystal clear like pools of blessed water, the way they now looked saddened and were about to spill tears. "We had no choice, Satoru."
With a trembling exhale, Gojo leaned in, wrapping his arms around him and feeling the radiating warmth from him. His fingers dipped into the curve of his nape, slipping through the hair and pulling at the tie, breaking the strand free. A cool breeze swept over them, and Geto sank into the embrace, his weight entirely falling onto Gojo's arms that only tightened. "Don't leave, Suguru..."
Geto's eyes widened, breath stuttering on his throat, and he tried to pull back and look, yet Gojo had a grip on him, a frantic hold that clutched onto him like a child crying for a favourite worn-out blanket. "How-"
"Please, don't go anywhere and stay here with me." Gojo whimpered, voice muffled against his shoulder. His breath fell in ragged huffs, and Geto felt his throat tighten like it was suddenly too small for the air he breathed. His whole body shuddered, mind storming like a violent cyclone, and his gut felt heavy, perhaps all the curses he swallowed stirring uncomfortably. "I'm not the strongest. We are, but I, alone, am not. Do you hear me...?"
Geto nodded, tears oozing out of his eyes and his fingers helplessly grasping for the other, fisting the fabric of his t-shirt. A cry that was both heart-wrenching and quiet tore from him, escaping like a bird finally let out of a cage, and he crumpled. "It- It was hard, Satoru..."
"I see you, and I won't go anywhere without you. Wherever it is we can go together. So, please don't leave me."
2087
stormborns
theartofmadeline
izzy806
jacobvanloon
dededos
