...would Rohan bake cookies? Like, he wants it done a specific way that no top tier chef ever gets it right? So he’s like “fuck it, I’m gonna make it my way”, and proceeds to -ironically-become a top tier baking chef himself specifically because he just wanted good cookies.
*plot twist* he just wanted them to taste like Reimi’s cookies when she would bake them for him.
Of course, this isn’t something that he comes up with on the spot and becomes a genius at baking. Funny thing is that whenever he tastes the cookies, he doesn’t like it. When others taste them (duwang gang) they fucking cry like Tonio status over how good the cookies taste. Word gets out about how good his cookies are and the town finds out.
Somehow, Koichi convinces him to open up a small bakery and has a small area for his manga creations. He creates when he looks for inspiration and gets fleeting memories of his childhood.
There’s one instance where he’s covered in flour while trying to help Reimi make bread from scratch and rolling the dough with a pin whole on a stepping stool because he can’t reach the table counter. Reimi teases Rohan as she helps him down and cleans him up.
Rohan shakes himself from the memory and tries to recreate the bread recipe from memory. The result is sinfully delicious, but not the way Reimi made her bread.
It takes him at least 2 years of on and off baking experiments and finally, FINALLY gets her recipes right.
He decides to close the shop, but the gang tells him to keep it open so he can share Reimi’s creations with the town. He agrees and hires all of them to keep the shop running (they all get paid)
In the meantime, Rohan sits outside the shop while drawing as people go in and out eating the food. He watches people enjoy Reimi’s creations and he smiles because Reimi would have loved the cute shop.
At the end of the day, he closes the shop and makes a few more pastries himself and he walks to the cemetery with them. He sits at Reimi’s grave and shares them with her. “I can make your recipes without getting flour on myself now.”
TW ! - sexual content. dark thoughts. stalker vampire leon?? cohesion? smut. barebacking. raw sex (wrap it before you tap it) ejaculation. breeding kink? scent kink? dubcon? reader is slightly intoxicated (alcohol) blood drinking. biting. reader passes out. title from dark but just a game by lana del rey.
The rain had already washed away from the street the time Leon arrived outside the bar, Neon sign flickering like a holy light giving him a warm, welcome! all drinks half price! Rock music hummed through the brick walls reminding him of the places he used to hang around when he was a rookie.
And human.
He could smell you beneath heavy scents of beer, perfume and cigarette smoke. It was unmistakable, warm. Human. Young and alive. His slacks tight from his already aching cock, Since he smelled you walking past his apartment on the street his dicks been hard and weeping to be deep inside you.
He tried, really tried to ignore it. Shooting himself up with two med injectors to ease the cravings, sneaking blood from his bags early- then feeling guilty about- even jerking off in the shower, breathe heavy against his forearm as he leant against the porcelain wall fisting his cock until beads of cum spurted onto the floor and his fangs protruded further from his gums.
after all of that though, he still couldn’t help himself. Leon knows it’s wrong but still he threw on his suite- the black one he used to go undercover in, thick arms and legs straining against the material, and followed you all the way here.
He pushed open the door and wandered in, slipping through the crowd and making his way to the bar. Inside yellow light spilled across the wooden floor, a few late nights hunched over their drinks as leon took a seat in an empty stool. The moment he sat your scent grew stronger, his knuckles gripped so hard they turned white against the wooden bar.
He could almost taste you.
Your scent drifted from the far end of the room and there you were, skimpy black dress and tights hugging your curves perfectly, hair tied up with a couple strands framing your face and pink plump lips. You ran your tongue over them after taking a sip of your drink and leon shuddered when you laughed at one of your friend’s shitty jokes.
Your dress matches his suite, Funny.
Leon doesn’t believe in fate but he does believe that god must be testing his willpower right now because holding back from you is impossible.
You glance up and from across the room your eyes meet his, Leon smiles and you look away quickly, taking another sip of your drink and pretending to listen in on your friends conversation but he knows your not. Your pulse is hammering against your chest, cheeks slightly flushed and your thighs are clamping against each other underneath the table. Hecan smell your slick arousal from here.
He was going to order you a drink, send the bartender to give it you but now he’s feeling bold. Leon knows he’s doesn’t need to sweeten you up, He’s already got you in his game.
After waiting a couple minutes, he ordered himself a whiskey from the bar and sipped it empty- feeling your eyes bore at the back of his head he stood and slid a bill across the counter, untucking his shirt and letting it hang loosely to hide some of his excitement.
He shuffled over to you with unhurried ease, confident in the quiet way that drew everyone’s attention without even demanding it. A side effect of being a cop for so long. As he approached you one of the girls noticed and nudged the other with her shoulder, a smirk splayed on her lips.
Leon smiled, up close he looked even more handsome, blue velvet eyes with a piercing gaze and short stubble, messy dark hair shadowing over his eyes, pale skin the way people often were under bar lighting.
“Sorry to interrupt.” He spoke, deep voice sending shivers down your spine, your two friends whispered between themselves, giggling and making your cheeks turn pink.
His eyes pinned you down and never strayed as he asked “Can i steal you for a minute?”
You blinked, it’s not a surprise for you to get hit on at a bar but from a gorgeous older man in a suite and no wedding ring- it’s uncommon. Your friends shoot you one of those looks- bitch go with him! she mouths and you laugh nervously, mumbling a shy “sure.” under your breath.
Leon has to physically hold himself back from dragging you out the bar and fucking his cock into your pussy against the alleyway wall as you follow behind him a few steps away. He can hear and smell everything up close, your breathing and the steady rhythm of your heart, blood beneath your warm soft skin.
It’s taking a lot of discipline to not stare at the pulse in your throat.
“You look like you’re about to ask me something serious, it’s making me nervous.” You giggle up at him, Leon leaning against the wall.
“I noticed you when i came in, thought i’d regret if i didn’t say hello.” Leon speaks, eyes never leaving yours as he folds his arms.
“well.. hello then.” You reply, cheeks pink and eyes looking away from his as you smile to yourself.
Leon chuckled under his breath. You’re so sweet, smell so good, So shy. He knew following you was a good idea.
“What’s your name?” He asks, reaching a finger to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, trailing it down your neck before pulling away with a groan under his breath.
You tell him your name and he repeats it teasingly, telling you his.
Leon leans in close and lowers his voice. “This might be sudden but how do you feel about coming back to mine?” His fingers reach out again, trailing down the shape of your jaw all the way to your lips, your lashes batting up at him.
You’re clearly hesitant, lips opening then closing before landing on “i-i don’t usually go home with strangers.”
He holds back a groan, hand trailing down to squeeze your hip. “We’re not stranger’s baby.”
Both of you spot your friends from over the bar and he chuckles under his breath as they shoot you lewd finger signs and pointing at leon.
You turn back to face him and Leon thinks you’re the most gorgeous person he’s ever met, your scent is driving him wild and he already knows you taste so good.
He tilts his head and you huff out a laugh. “Okay, sure.”
Leon’s apartment is bland, No pictures on the walls or plants sitting in the windowsill. Just the necessities besides the alcohol cabinet you spotted when you walked it. It fits his personality, mostly quiet besides the claps of his hips slapping against your ass and the squelch of his dick fucking into your pussy. With a palm on the back of your head he’s got your face pushed into his dark sheets, back arched and hands held behind your back.
“Fuckkk..such a tight pussy, baby.” He moans out, his cock fucking in and out in and out in a fast rhythm, balls slapping your clit from behind making your eyes roll back into your head.
“s-so deep, leon..” you whine out, words muffled and hiccuping from his pace.
“Yeah? you like this dick deep inside you huh? cmon- mmmf tell me.” His voice low and hushed in your ear as he pushes his chest against your back to a mating press, hips snapping up reaching a new angle inside of you making you both moan.
“smell so good…” He mumbles in your ear as his tongue licks the lobe, grazing his teeth down your neck and chuffing, his teeth sharper than usual, or maybe your too fucked out from his cock head kissing your cervix.
Your pussy clenches around his cock as he kisses the back of your neck, tucking his face into the side of your throat with kitten licks on your pulse point.
“M.. m gonna cum leon…. feels so good..” You think your babbling now, the alcohol in your system and leon inside you making your vision blurry, thoughts only on how good he’s fucking you. Leon’s fingers slip under you to squeeze your boobs between his palms before pressing two fingers against your clit, rubbing against the swollen bud in circles. You moan arching your ass flush against him.
“Gonna cream my cock baby.. cmon give it to me- give it to me.” He’s groaning against your neck, lips brushing against yours and he slaps your clit harshly making you whine.
Slapping your clit one last time you moan, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you cum, slick dripping down your legs and coating his balls. You think you’re going to pass out as he fucks you through it until he presses his hips against your ass and a pair of fangs sink into your neck. You scream out and try to push his face away but he’s grabbing your arms and pressing you into the bed as his balls draw up, thick ropes of cum emptying into your heat.
His eyes are closed, stubble brushing your neck as he groans and sucks your skin. You think you’re bleeding, and you think leon is drinking it. But your visions hazy, your moaning and so is he, dick still being cockwarmed deep inside of you and cum leaking out your hole down your legs.
Before you know it your vision goes dark and you pass out still being held against the bed and Leon drinking from your neck.
You’re the prettiest girl hes met in a long time. Your scent, tight soft pussy fitting perfectly around his cock storing his seed, even your blood is one of the best he’s ever tasted. Its all stained around his lips and hes still licking it from his fingers, cock aching and dripping pearly beads of pre- cum as your laid next to him asleep.
He doesn’t touch you again and he wont until he’s explained everything about him to you, Maybe you’ll scream and call him crazy and run away. Or maybe you’re just as fucked up as him, he knew your pussy clamped and your scent got heavier when he drank from you. He reaches over pushing a stray hair from out your face, listening to your pulse slow as you sleep.
Leon doesn’t think he could let you run even if you wanted to.
-
im sorry if the smut is ass yall i wrote this while i was high asf at 4am.. oops!!
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.
synopsis: leon was an established titan of the legal sector. however, facing a potential divorce of his own, he found comfort in his best friend’s daughter: you—the sweetest sin he’d ever tasted.
tags: re9!leon!lawyer!leon x collegestudent!dbfsdaughter!reader I smut/angst: softdom!leon, forbidden relationship trope, f and m masturbation, voyeurism, leon calls you "wild cat" and "baby", reader is in her early twenties, age gap, daddy kink (excessive usage)
wc: 14k I a/n: hey baddies. it’s finally here. well, part one that is. the smut part is coming soon, though this has the voyeurism part in it. nice feedback, likes and reblogs, as well as comments are always appreciated (pls consider the latest update reblog w/o a comment, only write the comment in the tag pls, thank u!!!) all the baddies now say: we know dada!!!
Crusades of equity.
A marble statue and in stone: morality and odysseys of justice that were seeping through his bloodstream, molding him into the man he became through his years of having studied law, and then practicing as an attorney. Leon’s future had always seemed destined to be a golden one. His parents, after all, had believed in him since he was a child, and heavens above, their faith in Leon paid off handsomely. So much so that Leon cultivated his own set of beliefs from a very young age and as a result excelled in school: he was basically the poster child, wasn’t he? Thus, it was eventually suggested that the young Kennedy should pursue the legal path, and his parents greatly befriended the idea.
Leon thought about it for several years, and he felt it in the depths of his heart: this journey was indeed calling him. A bright imaginary billboard declaring that he would flourish and trailblaze there. Only one question remained: which legal route would Leon Scott Kennedy take? Well, after much consideration, Leon decided to play the ball game in Civil Law – Private Disputes. Matters about contracts, they were research-heavy, negotiation-focused, and Leon established himself as a titan of horse-trading since he was always precise and adapted quickly whenever confronted with opposition. His ability to navigate such circumstances in such a short amount of time made Leon a very dangerous attorney, incredibly important when considering that Leon decided to specialize in Family Law: heavy subjects at hand: divorce, child custody, adoption and prenuptial agreements.
The number of destinies sealed by the injustice of former partners was insane. It was devastating, excruciating. Not once had Leon seen this many people cry in his office, especially women, who talked about the mistreatment they had to face in their marriages. It hurt even more whenever children were involved as well, because they were often utilized as means to an end - further pushing the envelope - to extract higher compensation for the benefit of one party.
Asinine, wasn’t it? Your own flesh and bones merely reduced to an object just so one could profit and maximize financial gains. It was draconian. That didn’t definition didn’t do it full justice, but it did come close when determining how evil it was. And each time Leon was confronted with it, whenever he had suspicions, he would turn lethal. There was just no way, not on his watch: his own moral code wouldn’t let him lose such cases, and fortunately he never did - not even once.
Hence why many people sought his help, having heard about Mr. Kennedy’s success stories who was one of the few lawyers that truly devoted their work for the greater good, from the bottom of his heart. He did more than was asked of him, because he was human: he wanted to understand, he wanted more than to help his clients in devastating situations, in summary: he wanted to save people. And it truly gave him profound sense of purpose in his life.
Luckily, Kennedy never had to cultivate such experiences in his own personal life. Well, not yet. He was married, and had been for a long, long time. An emerging talent, he started to develop a liking for the secretary where he had first started off. Fast forward: that same woman became his wife and they had been fairly happy ever since. Sure, they had their arguments - it was normal, after all.
Imagine a relationship where no one were to question their partner: it seemed almost like fiction. Perhaps even fairy tale-like, simply put: unattainable.
However, they did hit a rough patch a couple years ago. His wife started raising questions about…. having children. Mind you, Leon was well over forty, so was his wife. Leon had never truly desired to have a “Little Jr.”. After all, they had been together for two decades by then, it had never been brought up – so why now? Leon negated the idea, stating it was simply too late.
His wife countered that she had kept her true desires hidden all these years, saying she believed that the time would eventually be right one day, where they no longer worked as much, clearing the path to start a family in the foreseeable future. Leon was an extremely busy man; on that note, it stood to reason that his wife was just as busy since they shared the same workplace.
Leon walked on eggshells, his wife evidently started resenting him as she withdrew her energy more and more even though Leon tried everything in his power to convince her that they would be able to overcome this, furthermore, he would meet her halfway, finding a solution to this debacle. Fortunately, it didn’t affect his work. But it did change him as a man, a lot. A compelling figure with mighty walls deemed as ‘Great’ as those of the Red Dragon, was destined for a downfall this severe in his love life. The result: Leon became extremely self-conscious. He started heavily doubting himself, having full-fledged debates in his head whether he could ever be the husband his wife wanted him to be.
It was ridiculous, wasn’t it?
Leon had always loved her, had put her first despite turbulent times trying to keep Leon away from proving his truth, remaining loyal by her side through gift giving, dates, and words of affirmation. After a couple of years, however, Leon had been able to store up an entire folder of letters he had written for her, alas, his wife had barely read them, if at all, mind you. It messed with him – it cost him irreversible damage, which was, truth be told, completely understandable.
How did she miss that Leon was head over heels for her? Well, she reasoned that Leon only did so because his marriage was at stake. A childless marriage was, quote “useless”, so his wife sparked the idea of a divorce. In return, Leon burned up from the deep ends of his mind and heart, developing a full-on drinking problem, because it had kept him up at night with a mantra that echoed against the walls of his own brain, reminding him of his failures as a husband and soon-to-be ex-husband.
Therefore, he also started going out a lot more. His own four walls imprisoned him; he didn’t consider them his home anymore. He had a couple of good friends, but one in particular stood out to him: your father. You see, prior to entering the legal sector, Leon served in the military.
Which branch you ask? Army: land-based force, responsible for seizing and holding territory through ground combat. Their aim: to occupy land long-term, hence why he also picked the infantry. After basic training, right off the bat, he got stationed in Spain and shared a room with a certain individual whom you were very familiar with and loved dearly; they got extremely close and became brothers in arms.
Leon chuckled to himself a bit as he reminisced about those times. Man, he wished he could turn back time. Were he able to, he would pay a good amount of money to let the clock hands rotate in the opposite direction, just so he could experience it all twice: your father and Leon were famous for raising Cain; even in tough battles, they had kept their optimism and their habit of drinking together, roping everyone in to just live for the moment as their surroundings seemed to dissolve until the sole focus was the unit.
Leon had signed a contract for only three years as he knew he wanted to become a lawyer. However, he stayed in touch with your father. So much so that your father moved states and ended up settling in the same city. Needless to say, Leon didn’t live that far away. In fact, it was a ten-minute drive. Their bond was irreversible and it felt as though nothing could stay in their way. And yet, you had never met him. Not even once. Which was crazy to believe. Were your father not married, one could have believed that he was infatuated with Leon. He would mention him quite often at dinner table. His eyes sparked with excitement and told tales of unforgettable memories, which made you laugh in return. The atmosphere was beyond euphoric whenever Leon was brought up.
Sounds like a great man, you thought to yourself.
Leon and your father kept family matters private. While they confided in each other and unloaded burdens when necessary, their relationship was truly defined by one thing: having as much fun as possible and preserving their childlike nature. Every meeting left them feeling rejuvenated. Their batteries? Charged. Proven by how much your father smiled to himself each time he came home after linking up with him. They would often meet in bars. One time your father came home drunk off his own ass and couldn’t even foster a coherent sentence. However, one thing was certain: his comrade was behind it, and he probably met the same fate as your father the very next morning, being completely hungover.
Last week, however, something changed. Your father looked a bit too concerned for your own liking and he barely talked. Each time you asked whether he was alright he gave you vague answers. He seemed distraught. You didn’t want to pile onto his discomfort, nor his sadness. Therefore, you didn’t bother him any further and left it at that. You were sure that he’d open up one day and tell you the truth. After all, you were his daughter. Sure, it was your father’s responsibility to take care of you. However, the same thing should be applied to his own daughter, too - you. So, you made it clear that he didn’t need to carry his burden alone, that you were here for him, in case he needed someone to talk to.
Your father appreciated it a lot, though he hadn’t cleaned the slate since.
As of right now, you were in the kitchen.
By far the best room next to your own bedroom, because it was incredibly spacey. It struck in minimalistic design. Clad in black and brown, the space felt refined, bold, yet incredibly sleek. Divided in two halves: one side featured a full-wall counter equipped with every tool a cook could desire; the other one housed the heavy hitters – the oven, stove and microwave. Your cooking was always accompanied by a little bit of dancing and singing. Whether you were a good singer could surely be asked another time, however it was quite redundant, don’t you think?
You had a lot of fun, and that’s all that mattered anyway. It was worth mentioning with it being summer, you hit the road to maximize a fresh, seasonal marinade that was bound to be a hit. So, it wasn’t cooking, per-se, but oh well. You helped. That’s what you did.
Your father promised to grill today when he’d return from work and assured to get into it right away. So of course, you wanted to assist him and save him some time by preparing the meat beforehand. You looked at the clock, good. You had three hours left before he’d get here. To whip up a marinade wasn’t the hardest thing to do, so it was no surprise that you were already done after twenty minutes. Fine by me, you cheered, since it meant this: more you-time ahead. And therefore, you walked to the terrace, took off your shirt and shorts and got seated on the lounge chair. It was an incredibly beautiful day. The sun felt sharp, like a golden focal point against the solid baby blue sky. There were no clouds to be seen either, the heat hazed as the air felt heavy and warm.
You grabbed the tanning oil from the little stand next to you, opened the cap and spread the moisture evenly on your body. Once you were done, you started massaging it into your skin, crossing your T’s and dotting your I’s. After having paid great detail to the bronzing lotion, you let it sit and leaned back till you rested against the comfortable bedding.
Sweat soon beaded on your skin as the air encased you in its torridity. Perhaps you should have opted to tan on an inflatable raft; then you could have cooled off by scooping handfuls of water to smear over your body. Such is life, it was too embarrassing to admit, but yes, you felt far too lazy to move, so you had no other option but to stay put.
After a few minutes, you heard laughter coming from the living room. You paid it no mind, but you did wonder as to why. Your father had told you he would come around in the evening, last time you looked at the clock you had several hours left until his arrival. Your father was the type to come greet you, so you expected him to come outside once he’d settled in after having returned back home. Though you did not miss it, it did sound like he was cracking up with someone. As final verdict, you decided you’d get clarity either way, no? So, you kept your position and drifted back off to unwind. But then:
“Hey, sweetheart,” your father welcomed you cheerfully. You mirrored his energy as you were glad to see him back to his old self after the way he had acted the past couple of days. You propped yourself up, sitting on the lounge as you turned around to see your dad with a six-pack he held in his hand that had you immediately rolling your eyes.
“Celebrating something, are we?” you teased him. You weren’t exactly happy about your father about to seemingly engage in some tomfoolery before he’d hit it off again. It made you think, didn’t he want to spend time with you today? Or why did it look like he was about to pregame for something his fellow comrade roped him into? Stakes were high here, your father rarely disappointed you for that matter, so if he did switch plans, he’d have some explaining to do. And even if he did have a reason, you wouldn’t be a fan, whatever the case may be.
“Don’t look at me like that, doll,” he chuckled warmly, planting the sixers on the table nearby the grill. The one he’d wanted to fire up for a barbecue with you, or did he forget? You shook your head, watching your father getting rid of the package just so he could seize one and pop one open with a swish. “Your old man’s back. Leon’s doin’ better, so I’m making a toast!”
Cute, you thought to yourself. You weren’t as disappointed anymore; to be fair, your father’s loyalty he’d show towards his best friend was something to be admired. However, it was slightly exaggerated. The fact that Leon’s well-being had this much effect on your father was rather concerning, but who were you to tell your father whom he should care about? Right.
“Well, I’m glad,” you started, keeping your gaze on your father as you leaned back with your hands hitting the couch, so you ended up being comfortably seated. Then you continued, “But didn’t we want to spend time today?”
“We will, sweetheart,” he chuckled, taking a huge swig and then sighing satisfied after the beverage gushed down his throat. “You thought your father forgot?”
“Well, looks like you’re ready to have a party with-“
And then you were interrupted. Not by a word, but by a presence: unbeknownst to you, it was the man you were ready to call by his name. But you figured, it had to be him, no? You had never seen him around – but that was about to change now it seemed. Your father spun yarns about his friend, claiming he’d been a true “Casanova”. A man with dirty blonde hair that shifted into muted taupe in the right lightning, and blue-green eyes so intense they pulled you in upon seeing them. And at first glance, it fit that description. The man took one step outside, his shoe hitting the concrete of the terrace, then he beamed at your father, nudging his chin at him, saying, “There you are.”
Your father turned his head and returned his smile, about to invite him to drink with him as he tossed a can at him. His dear friend caught it skillfully, orbiting it around, behind his back, then bringing it to his front. He flicked it into the air as he let it spin a few times, catching it firmly in his palm once more. It made you giggle a bit; he did look like someone who knew a thing or two about having a blast despite his years. After all, he was nearly the same age as your father, and the fact that he didn’t lose his whimsy was wonderful.
And that caught the attention of said person.
Your eyes met.
His left eyebrow rose slightly, for a second – sharply - then it relaxed and he cleared his throat. Your father slapped his back and said, “Oh yeah, right. Leon, that’s my beloved daughter.” You nodded in agreement, proposing a smile to welcome your dad’s guest. You stood up to lend him a hand and in return Leon tipped his head, extending his arm to take your hand in his.
Coming within his proximity, it felt as though you were stuck in a magnetic pull – a full-fledged halo effect at play here – in which his attractiveness created an immediate impression that Leon was utterly kind and sweet though he had not yet muttered a single word. Perhaps you were about to collect evidence firsthand upon hearing him talk to you.
And perhaps, you wished he hadn’t spoken altogether, because his voice was deep – so much so, it reverberated in your ears and had your cheeks poking in pink, “Hey, my name’s Leon,” he smiled, “Leon Kennedy, nice to meet you.”
His skin was a bit rugged, yes. Truth be told, his lines razored deeply into his skin, mostly around his elevens and his forehead. On the other hand, it did fit him, which barely scrapped the surface: it made him ridiculously handsome. He struck as an enigma of an older man who peaked in his latter days. He looked slightly Sicilian as well; his dark eyebrows rested above his striking round eyes. What was it that your father said? That he was - or used to be - a womanizer? You agreed as it did make sense now. But that definition paled greatly in comparison to what you were currently beholding, no?
A double take of yours resulted, quite frankly, against your will, and yet, you couldn’t help yourself anymore. With that, your eyes drifted off to his clothed chest. You saw his chest hair play peek-a-boo above the collar of his navy-blue buttoned-down shirt. You gulped – the inside past your lips as dry as the Samarian desert. An imaginary multitude of grains of sand poised as metaphorical lever that would do you in as time were to progress – of that, you were certain.
He didn’t budge from you, his eyes flicked down, giving you a quick run-up as you were still in your bikini. Too short for your own liking, especially when considering that he was nothing short of a stranger to you; however, you couldn’t have known that your father’s best friend, the infamous “Leon” was going to make his appearance today.
Well, it did spark a minutia of you admitting your truth, that you were kind of glad that you did wear it…. After all, he was beyond star-striking: a compelling figure as his statue reflected his decades of being, and yet, it made him all the more alluring and desirable. You felt the heat rise (if that were even possible), you had always preferred a more seasonable soul, held a penchant for older men. So it was of no surprise that you remained on standby, policing every thought and holding them captive you were certain wouldn’t grant you a pass through the Pearly Gates.
“What’s your name?” Leon asked, shaking your hand as his hold on you posed as never-ending. His voice was beyond maddening at this point. You got a little ahead of yourself there, but you wished he had accompanied his question with a romantic endearment. Surely impossible as your father was a witness of you two coming into a rather electrifying encounter. But a girl could dream, no?
So, you told him and he smiled, “Beautiful name. Your father picked it for you?”
Leon’s question coaxed a snort from your father, but you couldn’t truly focus as you were too busy staring at Leon’s teeth – bright in white and perfectly straight. The more time had passed, the more you realized of how many boxes Leon ticked off your list titled: “What Makes a Man Handsome”. Your father chimed in and laughed, “Yeah, I actually did,” slapping his back once again – firmer this time around - and continued, “I did a great job. Not only by giving her a beautiful name, but I also raised her right. She’s my ride or die.”
His response had your lips stretching in a wide smile, showcasing your teeth as you giggled. Leon mirrored you, giving your hand one last shake, before resuming his stance, letting his rest next to his hip, smoothly stating, “Yeah, I can see that.” If your heart hadn’t already combusted, it certainly did so now. You didn’t quite know what to do with your hands yourself and since you didn’t want your unresolved thoughts to give you away, you settled on getting seated again as you gave both men more space to hang by themselves – you weren’t that far off as they stood by the grill; you were still able to hear them talk.
You assumed that you were going to be sidelined, but your father and Leon approached you and sought to sit down, wanting to join you. Leon’s eyes made their return, boring into you, and you felt a sharp dagger in your heart – how was it possible for him to leave this much of an imprint on you? You didn’t know who he was – not really. Only through your dad’s storytelling, and yet he did seem somewhat of a social butterfly, so it wasn’t far-fetched for you to assume that you two would soon connect here. That intuition was partially proven right when Leon asked you, “May I?” He gestured toward the lounge where you sat, his palm upturned.
There was a short pang of hope as you grasped that he could have taken the other seat next to your father though he wanted to sit next to you. You nodded, a bit too eagerly. A round of applause for you, and then a second round, as you were sure that this time the crowd would smack their foreheads. Alas, it was what it was.
The corner of his mouth showed hidden gratitude, and then you felt his presence next to you. He sighed satisfied, propping himself as his forearms braced his thighs. You noticed the visible curve of his upper back, which clearly illustrated that he was in dire need of catharsis: it had almost cast a perfect allegory of someone hauling a heavy boulder atop their shoulders, the gravity of it all pulling them down to their knees.
Perhaps you were right?
Your father and Leon started snickering around about some stuff, and while they were at it, you tried your best not to appear too enticed by Leon’s looks. Instead, you pretended to be invested in their conversation, when it was Leon that had your unwavering attention. He didn’t dedicate his time to drinking his beer anymore, he left it alone - completely. Meanwhile, your father was still fully on board with continuing their preplanned tomfoolery.
But then Leon turned his head to look at you once more. It was all too embarrassing because you were put on the spot: you got caught mooning over the culprit who was currently obsessing your mind, evident by how you were now scratching your nape, thus, shifting your eyes away from his blaze of baby blues. It came to a halt when Leon asked, “And what about you? You drink at all?”
“Hm?” A coat of saliva formed inside your mouth you were able to swallow down – small success - since your throat had been stinging from a well in drought beforehand. You had no idea what was wrong with you; you had never acted like this before. Your entire demeanor had spiraled into tame waters, it felt as though Leon stopped you from thinking altogether. Whether you were able to further down the road was another question entirely. It was as though his eyes, and his overall defining sense of “manliness” left you absolutely speechless.
“Uh,” you huffed and then: “Yeah, sometimes.”
Your father chuckled at your response, clearing the air, “Yeah, right. You’re having way too much with your girls. Remember last weekend in Miami?”
You rolled your eyes and smiled shyly. Leon cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head at that, “Miami? Let me guess, you’re a bit of a wild cat, huh?”
Wild cat.
It didn’t take much - if at all - but his last words had your stomach tying in a knot and pooling a bit of a mess in your bottom bikini. You rubbed your thighs together and chuckled awkwardly. You had to admit it to yourself, no? Your brain was running an entire investigation against you; you were behaving like a teenager with no concept of how to talk to a crush as you were desperate not to leave a bad impression on Leon. Luckily for you, your father answered his question though Leon didn’t bother looking at the messenger who claimed, “She is. She got it from me.”
“Dad,” you exhaled, dragging it out. “Not true!”
As if Leon had known, he countered it with, “That’s not a bad thing, you know?” He licked his lips; the skin slightly bristled from lack of moisture. He shot you a smile and went on to say, “It’s a good thing. Your father and I partied a ton. Have fun while you’re young. Every time I go out with your dad I fear breaking a bone now.”
You laughed at his joke, and Leon struck you as having enjoyed it, so he joined in seamlessly. His fun and outgoing persona ran like a red yarn through this entire conversation - consistent with his efforts - roping you into the fold as you ended as a full contributor of the trio. Both laid their cards on the table, sharing their golden recollections over and over, showcasing that they must have been separated at birth.
Though you were aware of their bond, it was exciting to see them in action, nonetheless. You started understanding your father a whole lot more. Leon was extremely pleasant to talk to; had a retort lined up on his tongue whenever your father came with ammunition. All three of you lost track, it must have been this entertaining since time ticked away like mad. As the sun was setting, your father got his memory jogged that you had prepared the meat for today, so he stood up and excused himself. You asked whether he needed any help and in return he told you that he was alright, leaving both of you alone for a couple of minutes.
Now you were nervous. You felt a tightness in your chest as your palms clammed, betraying your crimson.
To break the new ice that had frozen over, Leon started, “So uhm. You’re in college?”
“Yeah,” you exhaled, nodding. You crossed your legs and rested both of your hands atop each other near your kneecap. “Studying business management.”
“Oh!” Leon laughed and pursed his lips in a downturned smile, heavily impressed. “You’re a smart one, aren’t you?”
“I guess you could say that,” you giggled, biting your bottom lip. As your teeth sunk, Leon took a sneak-peak and then shifted his eyes to you once more. He leaned back, getting comfortable as he nestled his head against his hand with his arm resting on the backrest of the lounge. He sat sideways, but his front revolved around you as Leon was giving you his undivided attention.
“Business management got math in it, don’t it?” Leon continued to laugh, mirroring your body language as he crossed one leg over his other one as well.
“Yeah, it does,” you answered as Leon watched your shoulders relax; you weren’t fidgeting as much anymore.
“Well, that makes you very smart then. Can’t do math, that’s why I studied law,” he joked. It was light-hearted banter, a sign that he was savoring his time with you. He played a bit with the cap of the can with his free hand, though he didn’t take another sip. You guessed he was avoiding the alcohol to keep himself safe from embarrassing himself, as you had your own goal to avoid a misstep here. Then he continued, “Iudex non calculat.”
“Oh, I don’t know what that means,” you laughed, your cheeks slightly tinted red, secretly hoping he was going to explain himself. Nothing more attractive than a (stupidly handsome) man teaching you a thing or two, no?
“Latin way of saying that us lawyers don’t and can’t do math, y’know? It’s funny, most lawyers don’t know how to do basic math. Me included,” he cracked up, his voice loud you were sure your father heard it from the kitchen. “Probably also why I joined the Army, too. You don’t need that kinda’ stuff there.”
You hadn't planned on falling for him, certainly not like this, as if the earth had been snatched from under your feet, leaving you to hit the bottom without a safety net. He went on to explain his career choices and reflected on cases he deemed most important. Eventually, the more he talked the more he proved himself to be an amazing man – a man of integrity and emotional intelligence. You couldn’t fathom that a successful man as Leon could be this humble. He punned a lot, though you picked up on Leon having a persistent habit of self-deprecation. There was no need for it, to be quite honest, it saddened you a bit. It had its reason here: it was incredibly captivating to hear him talk; you didn’t get tired of it – like at all. His deep voice, his steadfast eye-contact with his baby blues, his Sicilian looks: he was the complete package, a man who was nothing short of a marble replica of perfection.
Maybe it was a bit of a stretch, but you genuinely believed he was the finest man out of seven billion people on this Earth – no lie.
You were so entranced that you almost missed your phone vibrating next to you. You looked at it, wanting to ignore it since Leon was overly focused on you, however, he said, “Go for it. I’ll wait.”
You cleared your throat and gave him a firm nod. “Alright, thanks.”
You grabbed the phone with your hand and opened the message you had received, reading it. Unbeknownst to you, Leon took his advantage here and gave a full one-over. His eyes got into pole position as though he was an athlete about to compete and pointed his view on the crown of your head, smoothing along languidly over your neck and your chest, then your stomach where he momentarily came to a bus-stop and subconsciously licked his lips, until he arrived at the bottom of your feet, mustering your painted white toes, reaching the finish line.
He exhaled sharply through his nose and shook his head abruptly. He knew that it was slightly concerning since you were his best friend’s daughter, but upon meeting you, he couldn’t formulate a thought. He was taken back a bit. Your beauty was otherworldly to him. So much so that, were he younger, you would totally be the bounty he’d go for. You were his type, down to a T. But he was twice your age since he was fifty-one (nearly a thirty-year age difference). Leon should have brought the hammer of justice down on his head and pledged guilty for even letting his thoughts drift off in that direction (especially given his marital status). But perhaps it was his loneliness.
Nevertheless, he soldiered on, then did a double-take. He looked at your painted toenails again, spotting the ankle bracelet. He had no idea as to why he found it so strangely attractive, but he couldn’t stop himself. Your choice of jewelry could drive any man insane, so he did allow his imagination to run wild, drawing a scenery in which he asked himself as to how it’d look like if your feet came to rest on his shoulders.
He cleared his throat.
Get a fucking grip, Kennedy. Right now.
Although he was secretly swooning over you, he noticed that you were slightly tense. Given his benevolent nature, he, of course, asked you, “You okay there?”
You nodded a ‘yes’, but you were lying, weren’t you? You had just received a message from whom you had …. a rather difficult relationship with. By today’s standards, it would be labeled a ‘situationship’. The name alone did credit to what you were experiencing. True feelings were rarely touched upon. You two spent nights together, occasionally, but the candidate had never broken the mold. He rarely took you out on dates and you figured: this was all there was to it.
He wanted you for sex, and that was that - end of discussion. You knew he wasn’t the ‘love of your life’, especially since friends in your circle were way luckier with their prospects than you were, and yet, you still tried meeting up with him – and that’s why a stab of disappointment twinged across your face. You shot him a text earlier today to ask whether he was interested in hanging out with you, inviting him to the barbeque, but as his text read: he clearly was not up for it.
“Seems like you’re not too happy,” Leon claimed, reading you extremely well. “Do I need to knuckle punch someone for you?”
It was Leon’s plan to cheer you up, and well, he succeeded greatly, didn’t he? Perhaps he should consider throwing a party for himself. You huffed out a chuckle and beamed. You felt a bit dry in your throat, hence why you coughed twice and then croaked, “Yeah, that’d be nice.”
“Ah, I see,” Leon sighing, smiling knowingly. “Boy problems?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“You know,” Leon started, looking at you fondly as he beckoned your attention back to him. And it worked wonders, didn’t’ it? You weren’t down in the dumps anymore. It seemed as though Leon’s presence alone was like a cure to your woes. “Men that age don’t really know what they want. You shouldn’t take it to heart.”
“Hmm,” you hummed, pressing your lips into a line, before exhaling a grief-stricken snort. “Doesn’t really make me feel better, to be honest. Guess I’m just not that important.”
Leon nodded…. slowly. Searching for the right words to say, he went: “That’s not true. You are important to those who matter.”
His words lingered and they forced you self-reflect. Did your “main squeeze” truly matter? And was it worth brooding over a man whose heart wouldn’t come to join you in holy matrimony at the altar? Leon was right. You were cherished by the right people, and they proved it to you constantly – “they” meaning: especially someone like your father and your best friend. A slight glint played at the corner of your mouth and eventually, it brought forth evidence that Leon’s way of consoling you did the trick. Persuasive: as to why you were certain now that he was telling you the truth, and you were extremely glad that he told you that.
“Thank you,” you smiled. “I needed that.”
“No need to thank me. I know how it feels.” Leon didn’t know whether he should go there, but the best way to see it from someone’s perspective was to walk a mile in their shoes. And Leon knew what he was talking about, he was able to empathize with you greatly here. “It hurts to love someone you give your all to, but they don’t show any of it back. I get it.”
You had never insinuated that, and yet he was perfectly capable of understanding your situation, so much so, that he hit the nail right on the head. Your “heartthrob” didn’t reciprocate the energy, nor did he attempt to confirm it: that you were dear to him.
“I don’t know if I love him,” you proposed as you tuned in to your true self. “I have feelings for him, sure. But I don’t think it’s love.”
“Good,” he said. One word with profound effect; he was rejoicing with you. “You can do better.”
A pinpoint needle: his regimen of consolation made you question his intentions. Yeah, honestly, you were quite biased as you wanted your own assumptions to be validated here. So, you dared to poke the bear: “Oh yeah? How come you think that?”
As of right now, Leon knew he had to be a bit more cautious with his choice of words. He wanted to give you as much support as possible, believing the two of you had gotten to know each other exceedingly well over the last few hours, forming a bond. He was happy that you two were like-minded, vibing together despite the two decades of disparity keeping you at distance. But he didn’t want to overdo it. Given that you were his best friend’s daughter, he didn’t want to trespass any boundary here. Certain thoughts did crowd his mind: he could tell you that you were incredibly stunning, and that your sweet persona should be celebrated. Through his lens, he believed whoever had you in the palm of their hand should be eternally grateful.
“I mean,” Leon exhaled, looking around. For the very first time, he wasn’t as stubborn anymore to stick his eyes on you like glue. He wavered a bit and kneaded the back of his neck. The silence was speaking for itself – it was loud, it spoke volumes. Then he let his hand fell onto his lap and continued, “Look at you.”
You sucked in your bottom lip. His answer was vague, sure. However, if we were to put it into context, he definitely just went there, no? It was of no surprise that you were in need of clarification. You watched him and when Leon’s eyes bore back into you, you took your chance: “What about me?”
Leon chuckled…. awkwardly.
Well, the ball was in his court now. After all, he had started it with the thin end of the wedge, indicating that you were beyond the standard of what a woman should look like to him. He hesitated quite a bit, unable to utter a single word, exposing himself. And it didn’t help either that you awaited his answer patiently as you didn’t care to put an end to his sudden withdrawal – to be honest, it wreaked havoc inside of his mind. You could have opted to brush it off to save him further, but you didn’t. No, a man like him practically admitting that you were attractive needed to be framed and hung up on a wall in your bedroom. It was as good – if not better - as winning a trophy.
He shrugged his shoulders, seemingly unfazed but his overall demeanor gave him away like a book that had gotten flipped open at the right chapter. He said nonchalantly, “I just think you’re really pretty and nice, you know? So, if anyone’s not cherishing that, then they’re stupid.”
And with that, every molecule of your body molded itself into a friend of yours to come together, rejoicing with you, cheering loudly as you had just been proven right: Leon thought you were attractive. Again - Leon thought you were attractive. Repeating for the last time: Leon thought you were attractive. It felt as though you had just won the lottery with a triple seven gracing your forehead: you were the happiest woman alive. Mind you, as you saw it, Leon was the most attractive man, and the fact he deemed you worthy of his aesthetic ideals was nuts.
Needless to say, you needed to keep your gloating at bay. You needed to keep your composure lest you make it seem as though you had just received the greatest message of all time and were on the road carrying it with you like luggage, setting off into the sunset. But maybe Leon would be fine with it if you were to make it obvious. Maybe he’d even appreciate it.
You cleared your throat. “Thank you so much. That’s really kind of you to say.”
“No problem,” he exhaled, debating whether he had just made the right decision here. But then: “It’s the truth. So, keep that in mind next time he wants to treat you badly, yeah?”
Leon was utterly smitten by you, hence why he felt his words cascade out of his mouth like a waterfall, the stream of water engulfing you in its warmth and irresistible force. He was unsure whether he’d read the room right (perhaps lack of given you both were outside), or if his own egotistical desire had blinded him from seeing things correctly, but your reaction left him with the distinct impression as though you were extremely glad that he had confessed. Leon then tried to rationalize it: it was an objective truth. He shouldn’t feel this guilty. After all, he was just trying to help you, so why did it feel like he needed to be institutionalized for owning up to it?
“I’ll keep it in mind, yeah,” you smiled, and your eyes started to glisten with excitement. Wanting to polish your sentiment, you repeated with gratitude, “I will, thank you.”
All of a sudden, the air hung heavy, as though you were unable to breathe right. Leon’s eyes overpowered you, had saturated in such way you were completely tunneled into an ocean of his baby blues, until the cylinder of fluid depth was trapping you like a vice. So much could have been said here, but the words were left unspoken instead. You two weren’t stupid. Hell, he was a damn lawyer while you were fighting hard to have the sword of approval tapped atop both of your shoulders, leaving your efforts to be capped by your university with a bachelor’s degree in one year’s notice. Leon was under your spell as well, both of you were aware as mentioned, none of you voiced a thing though. And that was that, until the magnifying pull got interrupted with your father coming to the rescue as he flew his way back to you both.
Where the hell had he been anyways?
“I got the meat,” your father exclaimed happily with glee. “Let’s do this!”
The rest of the evening was picture-perfect. Bound by a sense of camaraderie and fueled by thrilling conversations, it felt as though you had served in the military together years back, leaving you as a trusted companion to your father and Leon. The food was amazing and eventually, you mixed yourself a nice cocktail, wetting your whistle among the two older ones. Leon also went for a cold one after that, you know, when he saw you drinking your fruity concoction, but only one.
The sun started to set, orchestrating a beautiful, pinkish, pillowy sky, the texture almost came close to that of strawberry mousse. Not that you would mind some dessert after a fancy dinner that had completely surpassed your expectations. Maybe, just maybe, it was Leon’s fault. Maybe…. just maybe, food did taste better with the Mediterranean nearby – meridional food for thought. And maybe… just maybe, it was beyond salvific to exchange those occasional looks with him, hitting the spot just right.
Well, you talked each other’s ears off till midnight - none of you got tired. However, when the clock struck two, your Italian hunk decided it was time to go. Not that he wanted to, but you know. Staying longer was counter-productive lest he make it obvious that he had a new reason for being here – one that went beyond your father. Your father and you guided Leon back to the doorstep, biding your goodbyes and unaware as you were, his last words were to follow you through the rest of the night.
“It was nice to meet you,” Leon smiled, holding your hand. “I hope we’ll see each other soon.”
Well, you clung onto that hope, didn’t you?
It had been a week since, and with Leon nowhere to be found, questions arrived en masse - your brain felt like an entire crime scene, evacuated and cordoned off for unresolved hypotheses. It shouldn’t make you this anxious. The entire ordeal became almost hyperbolic – you were tense, you fiddled, you were always on top of your toes. Even your father equipped himself with a couple of remarks of his own, pointing out the heavy load you most obviously bore and yet, you kept quiet for your own sake – yeah, no one could know about this: “this” meaning what exactly? That you were head over heels for Leon? A man who was fifty-one years old? Older than your own father? Right.
If a detective were to ask you, you would stand absolutely no chance of denying it (and would probably not hear the end of it: of how problematic it was). Even a layperson such as your father concluded that there was something wrong with you. So, he returned the favor and suggested that if you were in need, that he would be there to help – just in case. But you promised yourself that you were not going to accept his help under any circumstance since you were certain you were going to meet your fate by being ill-advised by your own father.
No, this time around, you needed to deal with it on your own. You were a grown woman, after all, and you weren’t thick in the head either. So, all you were able to do here, realistically speaking, was to drown out Leon as much as possible. And you were somewhat hoping that you wouldn’t see him again as well, since you were that afraid of coming undone by his mere presence alone. You spent the first half of your day in the bathroom on a deep-cleansing self-care marathon. And since then - around evening - you hadn’t left your room, except perhaps once to go grab yourself a snack from the kitchen. But overall, you were nowhere to be found, unless someone looked in your bedroom. As of right now you were reclined onto the mattress of your own bed, scrolling through several social media apps on your phone. You were bored out of your mind; in all honesty you had hoped for your best friend to shoot you a text just so you could go and hang out with her. It was very unlikely though, given that it was late at night. Maybe she had other plans.
After a while, you came across a video and its comment section in which women were yearning for their men, who they described as “Daddy material”.
You had to chuckle a bit by yourself there. In all honesty, you were glad that you weren’t the only woman on the planet who had a seemingly similar “issue” – whether it could be referred to as an issue was another question entirely – with picking far older men and finding them way more attractive than men your age.
And as the universe would have it, your best friend sent you the exact same video you were currently watching with an added caption, reading: “you”.
Well, you got me there, you thought to yourself.
You’d been killing it so far, but of course - in a stroke of misfortune - a certain individual shot into your conscience like a bullet penetrating the cerebrum: it stung and it was heavily invasive. In plain English: he was unforgettable.
Leon.
Leon Scott Kennedy.
You could feel it instantly: how the looming heat coiled in your lower abdomen. You were ashamed, no question about it. However, the reality was: you might have touched yourself here and there over the course of the week, fantasizing about him. So, what difference would it make if you were to do it again? ….. None, right? With a blink of an eye, you laid your phone on your nightstand and then…. got comfortable. Enough radiance emitted from your string lights accenting your bed frame. Therefore, you closed your eyes, wanting to come face to face with the handsome man who practically consumed your mind, body and soul at this point.
Your feet were on the bedding, as your knees jotted up high, and you started parting your legs just enough so you could sneak a hand in between. You didn’t want to get into it right away as you were sure that Leon wouldn’t either. Your palm slid down, little by little, over your chest, then your stomach, trailing off further amid the crevice that was awaiting you. Then, you finally cupped your pussy and rubbed your hand over your clothed core, in slight circles too, with enough pressure to feel it. You imagined him there, as if it was his big, strong, manly hand that was teasing you, so you moaned, “Oh Leon.”
The scenery switched at the snap of someone’s fingers entirely as if he were there with you now. Suddenly, you felt his presence as the air around you seemed to have warmed up, making you sweat a bit: your Leon looked at you lovingly, kissing you softly as he played with your pussy. You were wet in mere seconds as you pictured him sneaking his with veins riddled hand under the waistband of your cute shorts, letting his long, thick middle finger glide along your slit, as you heard him purr, “You like that, baby?”
“Oh God, yes,” you moaned, talking to your imaginary heartthrob who was helping you greatly with making you feel good. You mirrored your vision as you brushed your middle finger along your folds, pressing in a tad more. With feeling how soaked you were for him, you whimpered in response, “I’m so wet for you.”
Meanwhile, you know, Leon actually wanted to see you just as badly as you wanted to see him.
He spent the entire day with your father, thinking of you. First, they went to the grocery store and then spent time at Leon’s. After a while, your father came up with the brilliant idea of playing pool in his basement apartment: suite-like quarters for guests that would kick it with your father there. Your father was fairly proud as it had taken him at least two decades to set the entire flat up. It was his, quote, “baby”. When Leon arrived with your father, he anticipated seeing you there, but it felt as though you had vanished into thin air. He looked around with just enough effort not to blow his cover around your father. But you were nowhere to be seen.
Damn it.
It had been week; he wasn’t able to come earlier because of his busy schedule but believe you me…. He was desperate for it – too desperate for his own good. So now, he could have gotten his chance by paying you a visit, but luck was not having it that day it seemed. Both were too immersed, easing the billiard globes smoothly into the scoops of the table. They had a couple of drinks, however, Leon stopped after the third one, just to be safe were you to show up somehow after all. They were immersed, trying to quench their thirst for their biological nature to conquer, even if it meant winning a simple match such as this one.
After a while, Leon needed to excuse himself to go the restroom. Your father told him to pick up the key in his bedroom, stating they could head off to the garden afterwards to relax in the pool as it had night lights, and for another reason entirely: it was incredibly humid today, so Leon was on board, of course.
Cooling off sounds good.
So, Leon walked off, taking care of business first and then looking for your dad’s bedroom. He figured his room was upstairs, so he went there. He was careful as it was late, and he didn’t want to wake you up in case you were asleep. But then he heard something. Your door was slightly creaked open, for whatever reason, but: it was open.
Oh, she’s awake, Leon thought, happiness coloring his face as it meant he could potentially run into you at some point against all odds. He considered knocking on your door just to say hi. But then again, would that be too much? Perhaps, he got into his head here and should start second-guessing himself to put a halt on a very predictable dilemma, forthcoming: that he was wrong – expeditiously wrong. So wrong it could cost him more than just embarrassment, slipping and sliding along the floor although the sign had clearly warned him with: “Wet floor”.
On that particular day, he was certain the two of you clicked, having tons of chemistry. To put the icing on the cake, he also assumed that you found him attractive. He was sold on the idea that it was true, how was it not? You looked at him more often than not and to top it all off, he did see you biting your lips and playing with your hair repeatedly while you were talking to him.
He fixed his hair as well, time and time again, as he desired to look presentable to you. By putting two and two together, he was able to finalize that you felt the same. You just had to. Were it not the case, then he could slip into a clown costume next and play one for his imaginary crowd.
So, he stood there, refusing to budge. He hid by your doorframe, wanting to figure out what you were doing. Having weighed out his options, only if the coast was clear - and you weren’t busying yourself with something else - would he risk greeting you. He breathed in a couple of times, feeling a tad weird. To be blunt here, Leon was eavesdropping on you. And that made him think – quite literally think.
He shook his head, wanting to humorlessly laugh at himself as he came to realize – painfully so, mind you - that his actions were beyond pathetic right now. He stooped to a new low; so much so, that this could surely mark a new record for him after having been a failure of a husband.
Really Leon?
And to make matters worse, he heard your soft voice, saying, “Daddy.”
He scrunched his eyebrows together and his anxiety shot through the roof. Maybe you had caught on to him standing there by your door, but you mistook him for being your father. Oh God.
Maybe you were calling out for help. He’d better get moving then and tell his comrade that his daughter was in need of something. But…. he didn’t. Were you to call out for your father again, Leon would put his big boy shoes on and explain himself here, offering his help instead.
But then he also heard: “Oh Leon, yes. Right there, Daddy.”
His eyes shot so wide they could have rolled out of his own sockets. Did he just hear that right? Did you just call him …. that?
His feet planted into the ground like a tree, and he became a cemented, unmoving figure, statue-like as if he were a new prospect for art students to marvel at. His thoughts went haywire like an entangled web of electrifying cables malfunctioning as he desperately clung to his hope of hearing you one more time to not get ahead of himself. He couldn’t differentiate between assumption and reality anymore. Was he hallucinating? Was it all a mirage?
Once it proved itself to be true, it wouldn’t be a pipe dream of his anymore, but a fully-fledged state of reality. So, he remained, he didn’t change his position - nor did he want to. He licked his lips, and took a deep breath, partially looking around, then staring at the wall, to keep himself busy until further notice. And then, he overheard you moaning, “I need you, Leon. Please Daddy, give it to me.”
Oh God.
So, it was true…. Leon couldn’t believe his luck, he was partially shocked, but more than that he was happier than ever. Which he shouldn’t be, but he was. He made one cautious step and got closer – nearly impossible as his beak almost touched the white tapestry - to hear you moan more. And he succeeded: he listened to how you whimpered over and over again as though you were under a spell you had casted onto yourself, touching yourself, feeling how wet you were for your Leon, who in your head, was softly rocking you to sleep with his big cock.
But the real one you actually needed - needed more than ever - was right there, a couple of feet away, unbeknownst to you, needing you just as badly. His thick length smoothed in and out of you, and Leon could telepathically receive your vision, so he gripped his solid clothed dick, blowing off steam. He toyed with the idea of taking a peek, wanting to see what you looked like, but it was too much of a gamble, so he didn’t dare go there. Momentarily, he feared he had stepped too far out of line here. It was inexcusable: not only was he invading your privacy, but he had become an unwitting witness to your most intimate moments. However, your moans and whimpers were nothing short of exhilarating for him. He was practically basking in satisfaction – great satisfaction at that. It felt surreal.
He bit his bottom lip, letting his eyes close for a minute. He made his peace with it, picturing you next as he settled for your beautiful voice to satisfy him. He allowed himself to drift off just enough to join you in your wet dream; he was wary, however, that your father might show up out of the blue.
“Oh God, Daddy, I need you,” you repeated, your voice as sweet as candy.
He couldn’t take it anymore. He laid next to you in his imagination. So, he whispered under his breath, “Daddy needs you too, baby.”
He continued grasping his length through his jeans – firmly - wishing he could unzip his denims and play with himself as you were right now. Your dreamy mantra of his name and the dulcet of a title you crowned him with made Leon rock hard within seconds; he dreamed of tasting you, of being inside you, so he muttered quietly as he shook his head, scrunching his eyebrows, “Wish I could feel you right now, sweetheart. Would give it to you so good.” Partially stroking himself now, Leon had a vivid image of you: how you’d look beneath him, how you’d gaze at him with your mesmerizing eyes. He’d do anything right now to be on top of you. Anything. And honestly, hearing you call him Daddy was the most endearing gift you could treat him to.
Leon was a man of composure without exceptions; not once had he gone off the rails.
But he’d always been a fan of being called Daddy.
It fed into his manhood in such way, he wished he could reward you for it. Since he couldn’t - he imagined it instead, touching himself through the fabric: Leon was kissing and licking you all over. Then he was sucking on your breasts, teasing your nipples with his teeth, paying great detail to your body, trailing off with his tongue, sliding down until he was in between your legs, eating you out and getting his face wet, making you scream his name before stretching you out with his big cock, fucking you slowly and gently.
He truthfully believed you deserved it: that you were a woman worth more than just princess treatment. Only Leon could show you how much you’d been missing out on passionate lovemaking.
He yearned for it: to make sweet, sweet love to you – as sweet as you were to him. He was sure that the two of you would spend an unforgettable night together: the chemistry was undeniable. Heavens above, would he love to show it to you. His dick was practically throbbing right now, longing to be inside your soaking wet pussy. Leon wished he could feel you squeeze him tight, but his jeans as an entrapment for his length punished him greatly here. He licked his lips, breathing heavily, focusing on your cute hums – they were like music in his ears, so he smiled, “Oh, baby. You are so sweet to me.” Leon wanted to stay longer, sure, but he couldn’t anymore it seemed. Much to his dismay, his dreams went up in smoke as he was coaxed into opening his eyes, being alerted by you moaning, “Oh Daddy, I’m gonna’ cum for you.”
“Alright,” he whispered, nodding. “Yeah, cum for me, baby. Good girl.”
So, he gave you an imaginary kiss on your pliant lips, trying to calm down and walking off without wanting to, leaving you alone to go to a bathroom nearby – for reasons. He didn’t want to use the one on the same floor as you, fearing you’d use it in just a minute. He winced and almost cussed – which was very unusual for him by the way - when he heard the stairs creek, but he had no other option here. Fortunately, he arrived on the first floor, looking for another bathroom, beyond nervous. But as luck would have it, he found it. He almost busted the door open and slammed it shut, locking himself and falling back against the door. His breath fleeted in a sharp pendulum of excitement and desire as his chest heaved up and down.
His hands were fast and jittery, without any second thought, he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants as though his body was about to combust out of maddening lust for you. He swallowed down – hard. There was just no way he was really about to do this. But:
With the bump of his head hitting the solid surface of the door, he almost yanked his jeans and boxers down, laying them to rest underneath his balls. Then he gripped his length, started jerking himself off as he exhaled loudly, “Oh God, baby.” His cock peaked up to his navel without any assistance as it was rock hard, and Leon started smearing his pre-cum all over his mushroom tip. He looked down, spotting that he had stained his grey boxers, shaking his head with his cheeks bright red in shame and wanting need. The leaking white beads of his cock weren’t enough, and Leon got frustrated. With that, Leon spit into his hand in dire of lubrication and started anew. The length of his cock burned into his grip, as he was able to hear slick noises sparking into the air.
He closed his eyes now, panting, thinking of you. Suddenly, you were there. You were on your knees, looking up at him with your beautiful eyes, needy for him and he almost lost his damn mind. It seemed as though all of it came to fruition in his head, so he whispered, smiling, “Yeah? You want Daddy’s cock, baby?”
His desire to have you was otherworldly. All of it felt so, so real. He pumped himself, seeing how your warm mouth wrapped itself around his girthy cock. So, he whimpered your name, daydreaming about you sucking his dick, making quick work of himself as listening to you beforehand had almost made him cum. So, it didn’t take much: he was well underway to release his secret devotion for you already. He kept quiet as much as possible, but it was so hard. He wanted to moan for you, even though you weren’t even there to begin with.
Leon kept pumping his dick, sometimes even teased himself, slowing down his efforts. Then, he focused on his tip, giving it lots of attention as a substitute for your tongue, grinning to himself, so he ended up cooing, “God, sweetheart. You feel so good. Gonna’ cum for you.” He started having a play-on-play in his mind - a full-fledged conversation with an imaginary version of you - and continued cooing just above a tactile whisper, “You are so sexy. Yeah, you are, baby. No, I’m not lying, no! I swear.”
Then he heard you say his name, as though you were there with him. With his eyes scrunched shut, he kept going faster and faster, chasing his release that wasn’t far off anymore. He imagined being inside of you now with your ankles behind your ears, while he gripping on the back of your thighs to keep your spread, gliding in and out. Then he breathed and smiled to himself, moaning, “Yeah …. You like that? Feel how deep I am inside of you? Tell Daddy how much you like it, baby.”
He was currently on cloud nine, infatuated with you as he felt you beneath him taking his cock like a good girl should. He bridged the distance between both of you, holding you by your chin in such way you were unable to move from his grip. He stared at you, rubbing your pussy with his free hand and rolling his pelvis in wave letters, into you slowly and steadily, brimming your velvety walls with his cock. He moved even faster now, picturing you smiling at him with hazy, lustful eyes and in return, he exhaled a chuckle as if you were there, teasing you, “Oh God, baby. Yeah? You want Daddy to cum inside of you? You sure you can handle it?”
He was in trance, bewitched by a dream-like state, hearing you moan in response to his question.
He felt your lips crashing on his, and upon coming into contact with you, he started fucking you fast, simultaneously amplifying his pace around his cock with his hand, pushing for his relief, whimpering, “Yes, yes, yes, boutta cum, baby. Daddy’s bout to-ah!” White strings of his cum painted his entire fist as he dragged out your name out loud with his jaw going full-on slack and his face contorting in pleasure, groaning through gritted teeth, “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!“. His hips surged forward, shuddering and he hissed, taking a couple of deep breaths after, collecting himself, but he kept “looking” at you with his eyes glazing in passion. With making out with you feverishly in his vision now, he beamed with his smile stretching wide, by himself in the bathroom, languidly kept stroking himself to ride out his climax, relaxing a bit. He gasped as he felt his tip getting sensitive. While he was cuddling his cock through his grip, he felt your hands around the back of his neck, skimming over his skin, playing with his hair as you gazed at him lovingly, giggling cutely, “I don’t want you to leave, Daddy.”
“But I have to, sweetheart,” he responded with the softest voice he could muster, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs, glowing, “I promise I’ll come back, though. Yeah?” When you nodded at him, smiling cutely, as final embrace, he gave you one last, long smooch to bid his goodbye. Shortly after, he broke the kiss, and with half-lidded eyes, he winked at you before you could vanish as he could still see you, this time, you were biting the pad of your forefinger, looking as tempting as ever. He wanted to lean in again, smirking, telling you how sexy you were, but then he opened his eyes. Clearing his throat, he halted his movement altogether, flaring his nostrils. His eyelids fluttered, then, a longing sigh escaped him, “Goddamnit.”
As he reeled back to reality, a concoction of different emotions overwhelmed his mind. Sadness came to strike him down first, fueled by the bitter disappointment that his dream wasn’t real. Then came the crushing steps of a giant – the embodiment of humiliation - as he reached the frightening realization that he had touched himself at the thought of his best friend’s daughter. If asked by the petrifying, towering, thick figure, he knew he would have to admit how much he had enjoyed it, lest he be ground into the dirt under his heel next. And then he saw a spotlight shining down on a woman who came into his view – his wife. He clenched his jaw, cowering in guilt. However, he resented her a lot due to negligence on her part, so no. He wasn’t going to let her destroy this moment. He didn’t want to deal with her – at all. He shook his head frantically, wanting to get rid of her.
And it did its job: Poof! She was gone.
He blinked a couple of times. With his view lowering, he winced a bit as he saw his cum all over his hand, then scoffed when he noticed that some of it had landed onto the floor. Rolling his eyes, he muttered annoyed, “Great.”
This was beyond awkward.
He needed to clean up. He needed to clean up fast. Time was ticking by and more than that, he prayed to the Heavens that no one had heard him.
Despite it all, it was worth it. Yeah, it sure was. Even if just for a moment, he was with you as he so desperately desired.
You on the other hand couldn’t sleep, even though you were extremely tired. You were mindlessly doomscrolling as a movie played in the background, breaking the silence in your bedroom. Hopefully you would drift off soon, you hated falling asleep past midnight as you wouldn’t feel satisfied enough for the next day. But to make matters worse, your stomach started growling, the excruciating sound hitting your ears – it was loud. Having watched one last video on your favorite app, you tossed your phone onto the bed and got up, heading off to the kitchen as you were about to make yourself something to eat.
You walked down the stairs and then arrived, walking into, as you saw it, the second-best room of your home. You opened the fridge and pursed your lips in contemplation. You hummed, deciding to make yourself a sandwich as it was easy and quick to prepare. You got all your favorite toppings, put the bread into the toaster and waited. With a soft click, your bread sprang up after a minute. As you took both into your hands, you started smearing butter onto the bread. You were deep in thought, though you didn’t miss hearing footsteps. Maybe your father was still awake, so you paid it no mind.
In your immersion as you attempted making the most delicious sandwich of all time, you heard someone greet you with a deep, manly voice, “Hey.”
You jolted a bit in surprise, though you had just noticed someone walking around, you didn’t expect anyone to come meet you here in the kitchen. Upon turning your head, you saw him and almost dropped the knife onto the parquet. You gulped and were in absolute disbelief. It was your handsome man you had been dreaming of for the last week - the one who visited you nightly in your fantasies, touching you and making love to you. But he was real this time, all flesh and bone. Unbeknownst to you, he just did the same.
“Hey, Leon,” you exhaled, a faint smile tugging at your lips.
“Hey,” he breathed, staring at you, returning your smile. “Hey, you.”
You almost had to laugh, stating cutely, “You already said ‘hey’ to me.”
“Guess I just like saying ‘hey’ to you.”
Leon rubbed the back of his neck, a habit you picked up on. He did it whenever he got slightly nervous. You gave him a look, from head to toe, passing over him in admiration. He wore jeans that explicitly showed his thick thighs, black sneakers and to crown his outfit: he wore a black shirt that was buttoned down with his chest hair revealing itself. You bit your bottom lip, on your way to look back at Leon. But then you saw him mirroring you, scanning you. You were scantily dressed in a brown shirt with matching shorts that were cute and showed more than enough skin. Mind you, if you turned around, Leon would be able to see half of your bare bottom.
Leon gulped when he saw your nipples peeking through your shirt, so he flickered his eyes away immediately. He met you again, smiling at you and gave this whole thing a go: “So uh. I see you’re making a sandwich, yeah?”
You giggled, biting your bottom lip, “Yeah. I am.”
Leon nodded, chuckling breathlessly, “Good, good. Congrats.”
Your tongue lolled out as you wettened the plump flesh of your mouth. Leon was so stupidly funny that you felt another a laughter erupt from your stomach, fizzling up to your throat and then snorted one out through your nose, stating, “Congrats? For what?”
“Uh, sandwiches are good, no? They ought to be celebrated.” Leon’s eye-contact was so persistent it had hit a point to where your entire body started to burn up. You’d had a run of good luck here. Fortunately, he was such a cut-up that any temptation to let your guard down with him was flying right out the window, stopping you from saying more than you should. You nodded, rubbing your shoulder and trying looking pretty for him.
Leon’s eyes were a bit hazy now as you noticed his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. The air got so hot it felt as though you two faded into one another, standing at the cusp of your dreams manifesting into reality. Leon’s throat was so dry, were he to speak right now he was sure he would choke up on his words. You looked so pretty to him, like an angel, in the plainest outfit, but so irresistible and beautiful he wished he could feel and touch you.
“I guess they are,” you responded, after several minutes had passed since he had first asked you.
“Yeah, they are…. Good, and delicious. And sometimes even healthy.” Leon watched you giggle again, and he smiled shyly, fixing his hair. He hid his hands into his pockets and continued, “So, uhm. Whatcha’ been doin’?”
You sucked in your bottom lip, turning slightly and keeping yourself entertained with the components before you. And also, for another reason entirely: to hide the fact that you had just touched yourself to Leon earlier tonight. You answered confidently, “Studying.”
“Studying?” Leon asked gently, knowing you were lying, but he kept a good act – for your sake, and his. He furrowed his eyebrows. “This late at night?”
“Yeah,” you laughed, dressing your bread with the finest fixings. “I procrastinated, so. You know.”
“I see.” Leon nodded, observing you. Then he looked down at his feet, feeling the heavy tension of you both most obviously lying to each other. Given this, he couldn’t admit it to you, nor could you. All of this seemed strictly forbidden, but it was heavily soul-stirring, dangling in front of his very own eyes: you – the one he so desperately needed and wanted. He wouldn’t forget you moaning his name or calling him Daddy any time soon, if at all. Perhaps, he’d be lucky enough to hear you again one day. Then he changed his view back to you, saying softly, “I did that, too. When I was younger, I would procrastinate a lot.”
“Yeah?” you giggled, looking at him, seeing him kick his feet a bit, looking shy as kept his hands inside his jean pouches. “You don’t strike me as a procrastinator.”
“No? Well, but I did. So, I know how it is,” he laughed, clearing his throat, scratching his head now. “So uhm. What have you been studying?”
Leon’s question posed as a tool to put you on the hot seat a bit, which he exactly intended to do here. He knew he wouldn’t get a direct answer that would reveal your guilty pleasures, but he did strategize a bit of a loophole: he would have you answer his question in such way he would get validated regardless. As if one cue, you had to think about it for a second, thus, he caught you red-handed with your hesitation, because it wasn’t the truth, and it seemed as though you weren’t a good liar to top that off – which was adorable: that’s what he believed.
“You know what…. You don’t have to answer that question,” he reasoned softly, smiling at you. “Pretty sure your brain’s mushy from all that studying.”
“Yeah,” you exhaled with tense shoulders, biting your bottom lip – yet again. It persisted in duplicating. “Yeah, it was kind of a lot, to be honest.”
“Yeah, I understand,” Leon answered, gulping. And it just so happened that following words slipped out of his mouth, “You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”
You blinked, chuckling awkwardly. Yeah, your brain did go there, didn’t it. “Pardon?”
“I-I mean,” Leon stuttered, heavily anxious. His emotions circuited, overriding his logic completely. He was in absolute disbelief at the choice of his own words, cussing himself out mentally. This is not happening right now.
“Good girl as in good student, y’know?” He diverted his gaze randomly, his natural apprehension making its well-awaited comeback; the cause, quite simply, being you. He had to force himself to look at you once more, even though he resisted it, trying to keep his poise at bay. After a couple of seconds, he dared to flicker his eyes back to you, trying to please his case. “You’re doing a lot of studying, and you’re disciplined. That’s what I mean.”
He prayed to God he would somehow be able to turn this around. He didn’t want to look like a sexual deviant, nor did he want to make you uncomfortable. The fact he had just gone there was asinine; he had clearly crossed the Rubicon. However, your mere presence molded Leon into his real self: the version of him in his dream, being on top of you. It was such an indelible mark that he was finally saying what he wanted after all this time; however, in doing so, he had greatly exposed himself. He was awaiting an answer, but you looked so taken back that he muttered, “Uh, I think I should go.”
Before Leon could sprain a muscle, you said urgently but with a soft tone, “No.”
It put a halt on Leon immediately as he expected to be released from his misfortunate he inflicted upon himself. As it turned out, he got reassured as you uttered, “You don’t have to leave, Leon.”
As you finished making your sandwich, you titled the plate as though you wanted to indicate that he could have it. “You want some?”
You were so sweet, so nice to him he had no choice but to chuckle warmly. He shook his head, blushing, answering, “Ah, I’m good, thank you, though. I already ate with your father, but again. Thank you. I’m sure it’s delicious.”
“Yeah? When did you two eat?” you giggled.
“I cooked when he visited me,” he explained, leaning back on this counter. His hands left his pockets as he crossed his arms now, showing off his big biceps that were protruding through his shirt.
“Oh, you can cook? Oh wow. That’s nice…. What did you cook?” Then you took a small, controlled bite, chewing afterwards. You kicked back on the counter on your side, as Leon stood diagonally to you, on the opposite side, though you both were carbon copies on body language now.
He chuckled. “Italian. I made some Spaghetti.”
You hid your mouth with a free hand while laughing as Leon joined in with you, both of you fooling around. You chewed, rowing your head as though wanting to speak but then you heard him laugh, “Easy there. Don’t choke up on your food.”
“I’m not,” you teased back playfully and kind of muffled, swallowing down the food. You raised your eyebrows and continued. “You really are Italian, huh?”
“Yeah. All flesh and blood,” he joked as you saw him flexing his muscles. God, did he look good. “And Italian food is delicious.”
“It is. Congrats, it ought to be celebrated,” you joked, trying to tease him as he did earlier. Leon rolled his eyes in amusement and smirked. “Hey, are you mocking me?”
“Maybe?” You shrugged your shoulders, getting bolder with him. And it seemed as though he liked it, so he countered it with, teasingly: “Maybe? So, you are mocking me. Huh, a sweet girl like you shouldn’t play with fire.”
In a bubble, the two of you absorbed each other’s mannerisms and got lost in time. You two went floating, engrossed in the conversation as you two were well underway to be in stitches at the end of this. You kept eating your sandwich as he kept throwing one-liners at you for you to double over, clapping your hands or smacking your thighs, breaking into guffaws. One could assume that he enjoyed it a lot, because he didn’t stop.
In reality, Leon had long forgotten about your father, where he had gone was completely brushed aside to the point where Leon wanted to stay here – just for you. He let his muscles play here and there, flexing them at the right time whereas you stretched a bit whenever it was convenient, showing off your assets for Leon to marvel at. You were chewing on your last bite as Leon rambled on about his latest case, explaining why it was so difficult for him to deal with it. He was grateful that you were there, since it seemed you were thoroughly interested in him as well as in his occupation. As you stared at him, he stopped his sentence and pointed at the corner of his mouth, chuckling, “You got somethin’ there.”
“Oh!” you laughed, brushing off lingering crumbs. “Is it gone now?”
He shook his head, laughing. “No.”
Then as if on a roll, he took a few steps forward, though he had not drawn this near before. You watched him approaching you, looking at you lovingly with a smile. Your heart was beating fast as you could feel his warmth radiating from his body as he was standing in front of you now. “It’s right there,” he chuckled, showing off the same spot as if his proximity had made any difference to convolute the problem at hand. You tried again with your palm swiping along the skin as you looked at him. “Now?”
He shook his head again, but you observed how his eyes were hooded now, betraying his steadfast chains that were on the verge of severing. He muttered quietly, “May I?”
Suddenly, the sky opened with endless possibilities.
You should be declining his offer. It had its reason – multiple reasons at that as both of you were very well aware. It was nothing short of a clash of moral opposites that no matter how much they were resisted, would persist on crossing, needling and threading a blanket, engulfing the two of you in its warmth and affinity. It would also serve as a cover for both of you, allowing you two to bask in sexual secrecy with no one knowing despite the age difference and relational matters. You wanted Leon and he wanted you. It was so obvious, and yet it was unfortunately a 'damned if you do,damned if you don't' situation in which both of you would end up losing at some point, even if you were to fall in love with him—and it seemed as though you were already halfway there—admittedly, so was Leon.
Despite it all, you took a leap of faith and nodded, looking at him with anticipating eyes. Leon shot you a soft smile, so soft it couldn’t even be considered a smile unless someone like you was within his reach to witness it. He slowly raised his hand, reaching out, and gulped. Instead of admiring your lips, he treasured your eyes as though his memory had faded away of what he intended to do in the first place. His stunning blue eyes melted you away as your skin scorched, reflecting the aftermath of Leon’s fashion: lulling you in.
Upon the pad of his thumb, a flash spread through you like a live wire as if your soul conjoined with his: a holistic balance of red and blue, white and black, light and dark. His inkling skin on yours as he brushed over your skin – unbeknownst to you - there were no crumbs to be seen. But Leon could not tell you that, could he? His digit flicked one, two, three times, and then he cupped your cheek, the windows of his soul burning into you. You breathed heavily, biting your bottom lip. Leon’s eyes flicked down to catch on to your persistent habit, smiling to himself and looked back at you. You poised as a siren, singing to him, pulling him in gravitationally and Leon had no other choice but to be hexed by your flux.
Therefore, he started leaning in, reading you in case he was going too far, but he noted no resistance on your end, so he kept lowering his head - more and more. Your chest stretched forward automatically, yearning to be closer to him, closer to his muscular body. His other hand came to rest on your left hip, his thumb sneaking underneath your shirt. Leon was a breath away now, his forehead feathering against yours. You both breathed one another in, your hands came to rest on his chest – the one you wanted to touch since day one.
“Is this okay?” he whispered, smiling at you, gazing at you with half-lidded eyes.
“Yeah,” you whispered as well, mimicking his language. “More than okay.”
Leon teased his lips against yours, moving his head, leaning in and swaying from the other side, playing catch with you, beaming at you whenever he was just about to kiss you.
He chuckled, you chuckled: two parallels and never-ending.
“Don’t tease me,” you giggled quietly as he tossed the ball up to an unrelenting standard. His smile faltered a bit, as sincereness painted his face, and he came to hold your face with both of his hands now, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs as he did in his dream.
“Tell me to stop then,” he purred quietly against your lips. “Tell me what you want, and you might just get it, baby.”
Baby.
That on its own was enough to get you wet on the spot.
You batted your eyes at him, stroking his chest through his shirt as you proposed with the cutest voice imaginable, “Stop it.” Thus, Leon’s resistance was at the cusp of crumbling, and as evidence proposed to you, he simply nodded and whispered, “Okay.”
Closing his eyes, he burned his bridges and went in to give you what you want; what he wanted – what you both wanted. Staking it all: one, two and – but then: “Leon?”
Leon’s shot wide as he exhaled, “Shit.” By hearing your father’s voice, he backed away immediately and looked around frantically, startling with his pulse shooting up the very ceiling. Luckily for you two lovebirds, your father was nowhere close, but he did scream, seemingly on the toilet, needing help as he shouted, “You’re there? Can you bring me toilet paper?”
Your palm gave your mouth cover as you were at the brink of busting a gut, but Leon snorted and shook his head. So, Leon responded, by admitting he was indeed nearby and that he was willing to help, coming in just a minute. Leon tried hiding his smile, but to no avail – this was beyond hilarious. His gaze followed course to your father’s voice, but then he doubled backed to you, visibly mesmerized by your beauty as he bore his eyes into you once more, but this time he didn’t approach you. He licked his lips, infamously scratching his nape, chuckling, “I guess I should go now.”
“Yeah,” you laughed, nodding. “You should.”
“Well, your dad’s potty business ruining my chances of kissing you wasn’t on my bucket list this year,” he joked, visibly delighted at his own efforts of creative wordplay. “But I guess it is what it is.”
𑣲𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ─── Your dad trusts Leon Kennedy with everything. Including you. When Leon retires, your dad offers for him to stay over until he figures things out. It’s only supposed to be temporary. Unfortunately for Leon, living under the same roof as you after years of being apart, is exactly the problem.
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ᣟ𐚁˳ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : DBF!LEON, flirting, Leon calls you kid/kiddo, age gap (Leon is 49 and reader is in her 20s), themes of low self esteem and body image, this was written with a curvy reader in mind, Leon feels guilty but also not, unprotected p in v, fingering (f receiving), reader's first time squirting (yaay yeppe), soft dom leon, creampie, little cumflaition (??), one mention of pregnancy (Leon hopes it sticks), a bit of fluff, afab reader with she her pronouns. (let me know if i missed anything)
݁ᲝAIᲘ ᲝEᲘU | ˖Ი𐑼⋆ 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐈 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 🎮 . ᐟ.ᐟ guys my leon obsession is so bad i have like 5 drafts started, idk if i should make them full fics or just short smut drables so lmk !! oh, also, i just added the links to my wattpad and ao3, if you guys wanna see my works on there also, ill be sure to post them.
After everything that happened in Raccoon City, people expected Leon Kennedy to go right back to work.
But for the first time in years, Leon disappeared.
No briefings, no new assignments, no government offices filled with people waiting to tell him where to go next, just distance. The man has spent too long surviving things he shouldn’t have.
Raccoon City had never really left him and going back had only made it worse. That damned city lived in his memory like a scar that never faded. Burned streets, empty buildings, things moving in places they shouldn’t, faces of people who never made it out.
So when the mission ended, Leon didn’t return to Washington. He drove on and on. For a while there wasn’t much direction to it, long highways stretching through empty miles, cheap motels, the average. It all gave him time to think, which turned out to be both the best and worst thing he could have done.
Eventually the calls started, most of them he ignored, until one night, sitting in a dim motel room with the television playing quietly in the background, Leon stared at his phone for a long moment before dialing a number he hadn’t called in years.
Your father answered on the third ring.
"Well, look who finally remembered he has friends." Leon leaned back in the creaky chair by the window, rubbing a tired hand over his face. "You alive over there, Kennedy?"
"Barely." Leon muttered.
Your father chuckled softly. "Rough mission?"
Leon stared at the cracked ceiling. "Something like that." A pause followed, then Leon sighed. "I'm thinking about stepping back for a while."
Your dad laughed under his breath. "You mean vacation?"
"No." Leon said quietly. "I mean stepping back."
The line went silent for a moment. Retirement wasn’t something Leon talked about lightly. Men in his line of work rarely got clean endings.
Your father finally exhaled. "Well... Funny timing."
Leon frowned slightly. "How so?"
"I’m leaving for work in a few days." your father said. "Big job overseas. Three months, maybe longer."
Leon leaned forward slightly. "And?"
"House is going to be empty." your dad continued casually. "Figured you might want somewhere to stay that isn’t a roadside motel?"
Leon huffed a quiet laugh. "You offering me a vacation spot now?"
"I’m offering you somewhere to breathe." Leon didn’t answer right away. The idea of that didn’t sound bad. Then your father added. "Oh, and my kid’s home for a bit."
Leon blinked slowly. "Is she?"
"Back from college. Takin' a break for a few months, she's overworked herself to the bone." He laughs. "Guess it runs in the family."
That made Leon pause again. He hadn’t seen you in ages. Not since you were younger, at least 17, always somewhere around the house while he and your father talked late into the night about things a child should never have to witness or go through.
You had been a kid then. Easy not to think about, easy to overlook. "Huh." Leon muttered.
"She'll be happy to see you." your father added quickly. "You’ve been gone for so long, I think it'll make her feel better while I'm gone if someone is in the house with her."
Leon snorted quietly. "Yeah."
▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀
Three days later, he found himself standing on your porch. Same neighborhood, same house he had visited countless times before, except now it felt strangely unfamiliar.
Leon shifted the duffel bag on his shoulder and knocked.
Footsteps approached on the other side of the door. When it opened, Leon didn’t immediately recognize the person standing there.
He assumed it might be a roommate, maybe a friend visiting, someone your father hadn’t mentioned. Still, he spoke first. "Hey." he said, voice a little rough from the long drive. "Sorry to bother you. I’m looking for—"
He stopped himself, glancing past you briefly into the house. "My friend said I could stay here for a bit—"
Then his eyes settled back on you. For a moment, he studied your face more carefully. Something about you felt familiar, but before he could figure it out you spoke.
"Mister Kennedy?" Leon froze. You were already stepping back slightly, looking a little surprised. "I didn’t know you’d come by!" you said quickly, a large smile spreading across your face.
The realization hit him all at once. Leon stared at you, and suddenly the pieces clicked into place.
It's you. Except... not the way he remembered. You weren’t the younger girl who was always up for trouble, not anymore. Not the kid who used to run through the living room while your father tried to braid your hair for school. Somewhere between then and now you had grown up.
Into a woman.
A beautiful one, Leon realized almost immediately. It made him pause longer than he meant to. His gaze lingered just a little too long before he caught himself, his jaw tightened faintly.
"Well—" he muttered, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth "Didn’t recognize you for a second."
You blinked at him. "I’m sorry for the mess and my—" Your eyes dropped to the oversized polka dotted shirt hanging loosely over your frame. "Attire."
Leon followed the movement for half a second before clearing his throat quietly. You stepped aside quickly. "C—Come in!"
Something faintly amused flickered across his face as he picked up his bag and stepped inside. "Just call me Leon, please. You're old enough now."
"Oh, alright — Leon…" you hummed.
He entered into the house slowly even if he was someone who had been there many times before. You shut the door behind him with a quiet click, and for a moment his eyes wandered over the hallway. Then his attention drifted back to you. Leon cleared his throat lightly.
"So..." You popped your lips thoughtfully. "What brings you into town? Or, well, here at our house?" Leon shifted the strap of his bag to his other shoulder, fingers tightening around it for a moment before he shrugged.
"I just needed somewhere to lay low for a bit." he said simply. "Your dad offered, so I figured I’d take him up on it." He paused, glancing at you again.
"Oh, I see. Well I don’t mind." you smiled softly. "When he’s not around I get pretty lonely, so it’s nice you’re here."
You turned toward the kitchen, gesturing for him to follow. "Want something to drink? I’ve got.. coffee, whiskey and tap water." You paused. "Oh, and tea!"
Leon’s mouth twitched. He leaned against the counter, arms folding loosely across his chest as he watched you move around the kitchen.
"Whiskey and coffee sounds like a terrible combination." he mused. He tilted his head slightly, studying you for a moment. "Which probably means I’ll try it eventually."
You snort and look back at him. "Tea’s fine for now."
"Tea it is, then."
Steam rose as you started the kettle, and Leon’s gaze wandered briefly around the room before settling back on you, then he glanced down when you set a small bear shaped mug in front of him. Leon blinked as a quiet snort escaped him. "Seriously?"
"What? It's a mug." You say flatly.
"Yes, for kids. You still a kid? Still drink juice boxes?" He asks sarcastically.
"Oh, I still drink juice boxes." you said proudly over your shoulder. "But I’ve expanded my palette, don't worry."
Leon shook his head, a small grin tugging at his mouth as he looked down at the cup again. "Yeah? What’s the upgrade... Juice boxes with straws?"
You turned slightly, wiggling your eyebrows. "Better. Juice boxes that can be recycled."
"You're exactly like your father."
You poured the hot water into the mug, the tea bag bobbing gently in the cup before placing it in front of him. "Still got that ridiculous sweet tooth, then?" he added.
"Obviously."
"Then not a lot changed." There was no bite to the comment.
"Yeah. Well— you did change." You said suddenly. "You look different."
You froze, then immediately turned away, flustered. "I mean, not in a bad way! You still look very good, just older— not that old is bad, you look good for someone your age, but I didn’t mean anything by that, I just—"
You took a breath, frowning. "How old are you?"
Leon couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his tired face as he watched you unravel. "Relax, kid." he chuckled. "You think you could hurt my feelings with that?" He took a small sip of his tea. "I’m forty nine. Not ancient."
"Oh." you said, tilting your head as you studied him more carefully. "Forty nine, that’s—" You squinted slightly. "You don’t actually look it. You’re quite handsome?" You shrugged.
"Handsome?" He leaned forward slightly, resting his hands against the counter between you. "That almost sounded like a compliment."
"It was a compliment." you said quickly, rolling your eyes. "I’m making up for all the times I called you ugly and scary when I was little."
Leon snorted softly at that. "Right."
You stirred sugar into your own tea before looking up again. "So— Got a girlfriend?" you asked lightly.
Leon shook his head. "What about you, got a boyfriend?"
You dropped into the chair across from him with a small shrug. "Nope." a second passed. "I don’t really get much attention anyway." you added, stirring your tea absentmindedly.
Leon frowned faintly. "That so?"
You gave a small laugh that didn’t quite reach your eyes.
"Unless you count random guys online asking for boob pictures?" you said dryly. "Then yeah, tons."
You shrugged again, settling back in your chair. "People are shallow these days. If you don’t look a certain way they barely notice you."
Leon’s gaze drifted over you as you spoke. The oversized shirt hid most of your shape, but it didn’t hide everything, the softness of your figure, the gentle curve of your waist as you leaned against the table.
He had seen enough in his life to know better than to trust whatever ridiculous standards people invented online. "You’re telling me no guy has ever asked you out?" There was genuine disbelief in his voice now.
"Nope." You toyed with your spoon. "I keep to myself mostly."
"Bullshit." Leon studied you for a moment, then he leaned back slightly in his chair, shaking his head. "Kids these days must be blind then." he muttered. He hadn’t missed the way your tone dipped near the end, or how you tried to brush it all off like it didn’t matter. "Their loss. You could do better than some asshole who only cares about how someone looks."
You hummed softly, gaze drifting down to the counter.
"Yeah, dad always says that." Your finger started tracing small patterns across the surface without you even noticing. "I don’t really engage with people like that anyway." you continued. "But sometimes when I go out with my friends.. I already know how it’s gonna go."
You let out a small laugh, though it sounded a little hollow. "Like, if a group of boys walks up to us, I know it’s not because they wanna talk to me. It’s because they saw my friends."
For a moment the kitchen fell quiet except for the faint bubbling of the kettle cooling on the stove. Leon watched your finger moving in circles on the counter. Something in his chest tugged unpleasantly.
You shook your head suddenly, forcing a brighter tone. "Anyway! Blegh! Sorry— I got all sappy there for a second." You straightened and waved a hand dismissively. "Tell me about your time away, Mister Kenn—" You caught yourself and winced. "I mean Leon."
Leon clear his throat quietly. His fingers tightened slightly around the mug before he took another sip of tea. "Don’t apologize." he said after a moment. "You’re allowed to feel what you feel."
He set the mug down on the counter with a soft clink. "And trust me." he added dryly "You’re not the only one who’s spent a little too much time alone."
He rolled one shoulder, like he was physically shrugging off the weight of the conversation. "You really wanna hear about my exciting time away?" The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk.
"Oh, yeah." you said immediately, swirling your hand in the air dramatically. "I love stories about guns and dangerous men and more guns."
Leon’s smirk widened into a real grin. "You got a thing for that, do you?" he asked, tilting his head. "Guns and dangerous men?" His eyes glinted faintly. "Should I tell your dad to keep an eye on you?"
You gasped dramatically and placed a hand over your chest like you were swearing an oath. "I swear on my heart I’m a very good and diligent girl!" You smile. "But there’s nothing wrong with liking the stories, right?"
"Oh, sure." Leon drawled, shaking his head as he leaned back against the counter again. "Pretty sure the last time I heard someone say that it was right before they tried to stab me."
His grin lingered as he crossed his arms. "But fine. You want stories?"
He tilted his head slightly. "Tell me something first..." His voice dipped just a little, trying to sound ominous. "How well do you sleep without nightmares?"
You shrugged. "Who said I sleep?"
Then immediately you leaned forward across the counter, shaking slightly in mock excitement. "C’mon, tell me!" you whined. "Dad always brags about how cool you are and whatnot. You’re telling me he’s been lying this whole time?"
"You know exactly how to get what you want." He pushed himself off the counter slightly, folding his arms again. "And for the record." he added smugly. "Your dad hasn’t been lying." His grin turned cocky. "I’m pretty cool."
You snorted loudly. "Okay then prove it! Or are you just talk, Leon?"
Your palms pressed against the counter as you leaned toward him slightly. Leon’s smirk sharpened instantly. He leaned forward too, resting both hands on the countertop so that the distance between you suddenly felt much smaller.
"Alright." he said, his voice dropping lower. "You wanna hear about the time I fought a B.O.W. in a collapsing subway tunnel with nothing but a knife and a lighter? Or would that keep you up all night?"
You blinked, tilting your head smiling. "I sleep just fine. I’ve always been good at ignoring bad thoughts."
"Yeah, because you were always ridiculously spoiled as a kid." He rolls his eyes.
"I was not!"
"Oh, come on." he said, voice dry. "Convincing your dad to drive twenty minutes for the ‘right’ strawberry ice cream? That’s textbook spoiled."
"That happened once! And it was important." you shot back, narrowing your eyes.
"Twice."
"Second time was for a different flavor. " you protested, flailing slightly.
"And the arsenal of stuffed animals?" he continued, ignoring you entirely. "Forty of them, all named, all with personalities you expected us to memorize."
"Thirty two." you corrected quickly.
"Right." he countered, leaning casually on the counter, eyes gleaming with amusement. "And don’t forget the 'random rocks from park' collection. Had to be alphabetized, of course."
You groaned, covering your face with your hands. "I was organized, okay?"
Leon laughed softly, hit by the wave of nostalgia, how time passed. "And you were always giving him so many tantrums when you didn’t get your way."
You rolled your eyes. "They weren’t tantrums. They were a peek into the future if I didn’t get what I wanted. So actually, I was doing him a favor, as a pure hearted child."
Leon snorted softly, shaking his head. "All right, a warning, then. How benevolent of you. Pure hearted my ass."
You tilted your head, a faint grin creeping onto your face. "Are you trying to get on my bad side?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"Do you really wanna do that?" You spun around slightly, hands forming playful finger guns. "Careful, Mr. Kennedy. I’m really good at rock-paper-scissors and papercranes. You don’t wanna mess around with me."
Leon blinked once, then let out a sharp bark of laughter. "Finger guns." he repeated "Damn, kiddo— you’re playing dirty. I'm shaking in my boots." He rolled his tired eyes. "You sure you wanna challenge me on my own battlefield?"
You nodded confidently, chin lifted. "I know my skills. Don’t underestimate me."
Leon’s smile softened as he studied you, the curve of your lips, the spark in your eyes. "God, you haven’t changed a bit. Still a pain in the ass."
"Well?" You laughed, a small, breathy sound. "Welcome home."
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The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting thin lines across the living room walls. Leon sat stiffly in the armchair, arms crossed, his shoulders tense. He wasn’t tired, not exactly, but he just felt... Strange. Maybe because he was back here? Maybe because it's been so long since he's heard a genuine laugh?
From the kitchen, you hummed softly, moving around as he watched you for a moment.
He wished to go back to all of those years, where none of this happened, when he was okay, when he wasn't so scared to be happy or be selfish.
You glanced toward him briefly, catching his eye, then went back to what you were doing. Leon’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. He wasn’t supposed to get invested in someone else, not ever, he needed to start over, fresh. Right?
He leaned back, trying to convince himself that whatever he felt was just nostalgia for those long gone years.
"You got coffee made yet?" he finally asked, voice flat.
"Almost." you replied without looking up. "Want milk in it?"
"Sure." he said, voice clipped, pretending to be nonchalant. His fingers drummed lightly against the armrest.
Something about this morning, about the calm in this house, it all felt off and too familiar, all too easy. He didn’t like it.
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More days pass, and somewhere along the line, Leon decides to move into your dad’s bedroom. Not because he necessarily wanted to.
Sleeping on the couch had been fine at first. He was just passing through, crashing there for a few nights before figuring out what came next.That was the idea, anyway.
But mornings started to become a problem. Because more often than not, you were the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes.
Most morning you were already in the kitchen when he woke up, barely awake, singing quietly while you poured yourself something to drink. Other times you’d walk in with sleep still clinging to you, hair messy, wrapped in some oversized sweater that looked like it belonged to your dad, and some shorts that left nothing to the imagination. And the sunlight always seemed to find you, pouring through the windows at the right angles, catching the edges of your body that made everything feel harder than it already was.
Leon would wake up to that scene more mornings than he wanted to admit, lying there on the couch, one arm thrown over his eyes like he could block it out if he tried hard enough, and the other trying to hide the obvious growing problem in his pants.
It was distracting. Annoying even.
Not because you were doing anything wrong. Hell, you were just living your life in your own house. But seeing you first thing in the morning like that was starting to get under his skin.
And Leon Kennedy had spent far too many years learning how to recognize problems early. So eventually, he moved his things into your dad’s bedroom.
It was just farther away, down the hall with door he could close.
Because the truth was, waking up on that couch and seeing you every day, while you blinked sleep out of your pretty eyes, was starting to make him wish he’d never tried this retired shit in the first place. Back when he was working, everything had been simpler. Clear missions. Clear danger. Clear rules.
That was a different kind of battlefield entirely, and one he wasn’t entirely sure he had the discipline to keep losing.
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Leon was sitting on the couch legs spread, one arm thrown over the back and a beer in his hand as he watched some stupid reality show.
He tried to focus on the TV, but his mind kept drifting. You were in there, occupying the space in his brain, frustratingly distracting without doing anything at all.
When did it get this bad?
A soft click from the other side of hallway shakes him from his self induced trance. He scowled at himself for noticing. The door opened, and you stepped in, yawning softly. His eyes flicked up automatically, but not before he stared at your clearly hard nipples that strained against the material of your blouse. Damn it.
"You finally decided to join me?"
"Yeah." you plopped down beside him. "Done being obsessed with my stupid game. For today."
Leon shook his head. You were stupidly endearing and so fucking irritating. Both at once.
"You seriously spend your time watching this crap?" he asked, nodding toward the TV. You shrugged. "I like having it on while I cook. Helps with the background noise, I guess."
Leon let out a soft huff, like he wasn’t sure if it was amusement or mild exasperation. "Jesus." he muttered. "You’d probably be entertained by paint drying."
You laughed lightly, stretching out your arms. "So what? It’s not hurting anyone." You take the remote, quickly change the channel to one of your favorite childhood movie.
"Nothing’s hurting anyone." he said, voice low, almost to himself. He took a swig of beer, eyes flicking to you for just a second longer before he looked away, clearing his throat. "You're either stupidly sweet or incredibly naive." he added. "I can’t quite tell which yet."
"What’s bad in that?" you asked, kicking him lightly with your foot. Leon let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Nothing bad. Just— someone’s gonna take advantage of that someday. You know that, yeah?"
"It’s what the heart is for." You said, stretching back on the couch with a small whine, toes poking him. "You’re in my way."
He exhaled, shaking his head. God, you really were like a little puppy, sweet and endlessly aggravating. He shifted slightly, not touching you, just watching you stretch out, the faintest jolt threading through him.
"You always this fuckin' whiny?"
"Yeah, duh. It’s my characteristic trait." you replied, kicking him lightly again.
Leon cursed under his breath, gripping your foot briefly. "You’re a brat, is what you are." he said gruffly. "Can’t keep your limbs to yourself."
"Blah, blah, blah." you stayed sprawled out on the couch, eyes averting back on the TV.
Jesus. That damn attitude of yours was maddening and he hated that it got him so worked up. Leon huffed softly, rolling his eyes as he watched you swing your body gently to the rhythm of the song on the screen.
"Oh my gosh, I hate that ferret." you said, turning your head towards him just slightly. "It’s so weird. Why is it moaning?"
"It’s a cartoon. That's their whole shtick."
You groaned, ignoring him. He stayed silent, hand still loosely on your ankle, watching.
Leon took another swig of beer. Goddammit, he was already feeling himself get hard. He shifted in his seat, subtly adjusting so he could see you more clearly without leaning in.
You shouldn’t affect him, shouldn’t at all. And still.
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The sun dipped low, painting the porch in streaks of gold and burnt orange. The air was warm, tinged with the faint scent of late summer grass.
Leon sat back on the porch swing, one arm draped over the back, eyes on the horizon. He should’ve been thinking about the quiet, the peace, maybe even the small town he'll move to next. But you were next to him, lying against the other side of the swing and his mind refused to cooperate.
He tried to ignore it, to focus on the fading light, but your presence was too damn obvious. The warmth of your shoulder brushing his arm made his chest rigid. He moved slightly.
"Jesus.." he dulled under his breath, more to himself than to you. You glanced up, golden light catching your face, and for a second his heart leaped. So clueless, so dangerous.
Leon exhaled abruptly through his nose, forcing himself to look at the fading clouds instead of the curve of your neck or the way your fingers traced patterns on the wood swing. Keep it together, he told himself. He was supposed to be the one in control, the trusted adult.
"Hey, kiddo." he rasped after a moment, voice testing. "Can I ask you something?"
You tilted your head, eyes glimmering. "Sure. Shoot." You giggled faintly. "Get it, shoot? Because you got a gun… anyway—" You cringe at the stupid attempt of a joke.
Leon pinched the bridge of his nose briefly, hiding the flare of frustration. Of course you’d joke now. He let out a low huff, his gaze flicking away to the fading day light. "And you’ll be honest with me, yeah?" he said finally, voice low. "Even if it’s— weird."
You shrugged casually. "Depends... Leon— you were like my second dad growing up. I’ll try." You continue with a sigh.
He exhaled inaudibly in enjoyment, maybe aggravation, but mostly guilt. What the hell is he feeling? He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this— He's your father’s best friend, you're the little girl he’d watched grow up.
But you were pressed close to him bright, delicate, and all his control was slipping.
"Alright." he whispered, voice cracking despite himself. His thumb tapped against the swing chain, eyes flicking to your lips for a fraction of a second before forcing them back to your gaze.
"Just wanted to know—" Leon takes in a soft breath. "How much trouble would I get into if I kissed you right now?"
You froze, eyes widening, your lips parting slightly. Your cheeks flared up. Did he really just say that? Leon’s jaw clenched at your reaction, the way your body stiffened, way your pulse must be racing.
God, what was he doing?
You swallowed hard, thoughts racing. Your dad. His best friend. Him. The consequences. And yet the feeling of his presence and the gravity in his voice made it impossible to ignore your own fluttering heart. "I—I don’t think... you’d get in any trouble." you admitted softly, voice wavering, soft cheeks still burning.
Leon’s chest strained, the sound of your words hitting him in a way he hadn’t expected. You didn't even realize what this does to him. He leaned slightly closer, eyes flicking to your lips for an instant before locking back into your pleading eyes.
"You think? Oh, sweetheart—"
"You won’t get in trouble." You repeated yourself, voice firmer this time.
The certainty in your tone made his fingers flex on the swing chain. God, you were too much. So unaware, and perfect in every damn way that made his blood roar.
Without warning, he leaned in, lips pressing to yours in a urgent motion, all restraint snapping. Hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer. You gasped, hands clutching his shirt, knees pressing against his sides, your body fitting perfectly against him as you straddled his lap.
Leon’s growl was low and instinctive. Every rational thought fled as the need to claim you, your warmth, took over. You were pliant, sweet, intoxicating, and he wasn’t about to fight it.
Then with a sharp inhale he broke the kiss his chest heaving, eyes dark. "Bedroom." he commanded finally. "Now."
You took a few shallow breaths in, head shaking quickly, before entering the house and hurrying toward your dad's bedroom, since it was the most close one to the entrance.
Leon followed right behind you, the door shutting with a quiet thud once you were both inside.
You stopped near the middle of the room, a little unsure now that the moment had actually caught up to you. Leon didn’t say anything at first. His eyes moved over you slowly, taking you in the way he hadn’t really allowed himself to until now.
Then he stepped forward, two steps and he was right in front of you. "On the bed." he said quietly.
You obeyed, climbing onto the mattress and shifting toward the middle of it. Your eyes stayed on him as you sat there, watching him. Leon didn’t keep you waiting long. In a second he was over you, lowering himself down and bracing his weight on his forearms, keeping you pinned beneath him. You could feel his hardon pressing down onto your clothed cunt.
He paused there, looking at you. His gaze moved over your flushed face, the quick rise and fall of your chest, the way you were watching him right back with those big, unsure eyes.
"I've wanted you for a long time." He let out a breath against your neck, lifting his head just enough to look at you. His eyes were darker now, something restless burning behind them. "Too goddamn long." His jaw tightened.
Before you could say anything else, his mouth was on yours again, cutting off whatever question had been forming. The kiss was deeper this time, more certain. He didn’t need to think too hard about when those thoughts had started, not now. Not with you beneath him like this, at least.
Leon felt the way your body pressed into his, the way you moved your hips desperate without hesitation, like this moment had been what you'd been dreaming of, too.
Or maybe he was just trying to make himself feel better. Maybe.
His teeth caught your bottom lip just enough to make you gasp before his tongue smoothed over the spot. "Tell me you want this." he spoke against your mouth, voice low. His hand slid under your shirt, fingers moving slowly until they brushed the lace of your bra. "Say it, or I stop." Because as much as he wanted you, he needed to hear it. Needed to know this wasn’t just him finally snapping.
"N-No, please don’t stop..." you shook your head quickly.
A low groan left Leon’s chest. That was all the answer he needed. His mouth moved to your neck, teeth grazing the soft skin there in a sharp little bite before he spoke again. "Good girl."
His hands moved higher under your shirt, rough palms sliding over warm skin until his knuckles came under the clasp of your bra, undoing it.
"That’s it." he muttered, almost to himself.
When the garment finally slipped off your body arched into the touch without thinking, and the reaction pulled another low sound from him. His mouth found your ear next, teeth biting your earlobe. "Relax, baby." he murmured. "I’ve got you."
His hands moved slowly, exploring, mapping the soft curves of your body like he had all the time in the world, all though his breathing was ragged, betraying the restraint he was barely clinging to. His lips traced a slow, hot path down your throat, pausing to suck a mark into your collarbone.
"You feel that?" he muttered against your skin, shifting his hips just enough to let you feel his hardened cock more against you. "Can you feel how badly I want you?"
You let out a sharp breath, face growing hotter with each second. "O-Oh~"
Jesus. That sweet, little sound, the sight of you all flushed and wide eyed beneath him, it was enough to drive any damn man over the edge. So really, it was your fault.
"Yeah, princess?" he murmured, his own voice ragged. "You feel what you do to me? You feel how crazy you drive me?"
His hand slid lower, tracing the edge of your waistband, fingertips slipping under the elastic, then lower, lower, and christ, he could taste how wet you were.
"Please—" You gasp, your fingers fumbling at his waistband, so eager, so desperate. Leon groaned when and he caught your wrists in his grasp, pinning them above your head with a single hand.
"Easy, sweetheart." he clicked his tongue. "Let me take care of you first."
His free hand trailed down your body, fingers slipping beneath your waistband before pulling everything off completely. He stared in awe as your wet folds glistened in the dim light of the room, some already dripping down on the sheets. In his many years on this earth, he had never seen a pussy this pretty, he thinks to himself.
He leans in without hesitation, spreading you more, more before he finally pushes two fingers past your fluttering entrance. You choke back a moan, eyes searching for his. "God, you're beautiful like this." he presses a kiss on your belly button.
Leon growled as he felt you adjusting to his fingers. God, you were so tight, so warm— He couldn't wait to feel you around his aching cock.
"Look at you." he murmured against your skin, his voice already wrecked. He felt pathetic. "Fuck." Leon’s breathing hitched as you squeezed around his fingers and he leaned in closer, pressing a rough, open mouthed kiss to your throat.
His thumb pressed firm circles against your clit just to feel you tremble. "You want more?" he breathed, lips grazing your jaw. "Tell me."
"Y-Yes— Please.. Need it, need you."
"Yeah?" You could feel the smile in his voice. "Tell me what you want." His thumb circled your swollen clit again faster this time. "Tell me and I'll give it to you."
"Leon, please—" You're practically sobbing. "Please, wan' you to fuck me.."
Leon's vision nearly whited out at your words, his grip tightening around your thighs as he groaned, forehead pressing against yours.
"Fuck." he gritted out, pulling his fingers out of you wirh a soft pop. "Shit— okay, baby. Let me give it to you." He wastes no time, discarding his pants and briefs somewhere on the floor of the room, letting you see him in all his huge glory.
Were you scared? A little. But you are a big girl, so you'll power through scary things, right?
His hands slid under your hips, lifting you effortlessly as he positioned himself better between your legs, pressing the thick, leaking head of his cock against your soaked entrance.
With one slow, agonizing thrust he gave you exactly what you asked for. He was going to ruin you.
"Oh, my—" you arched against the mattress, the sudden stretch painful. A soft sob rips from your throat as you bite down on your own finger, teary eyes searching for his in panic. "L-Leon.." you mumble, dazed.
Leon's jaw clenched tight, sweat beading at his temples as he fought against the feverish urge to just take. "Look at me." he ordered, voice desperate. When your glassy eyes met his, he exhaled sharply, pressing a kiss to your trembling lips.
"Breathe, baby" he murmured, hips rolling slowly, giving you time to adjust. "Just breathe f'me." You whine, frowning, legs pulling him closer. Gosh, you could feel him in your lungs. "M-move please.."
Leon growled low in his throat, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he finally, pushed in fully. "Fuck—like this?" he rasped, dragging his cock nearly all the way out before slamming back in, hard enough to make your back arch off the bed.
Who knew he had it in him?
His thrusts were rough, relentless, every snap of his hips designed to wring another desperate sound you didn't know you were capable of making.
"Tell me—" he demanded, voice wrecked. "Tell me who’s fucking you like this— who’s making you feel this good, baby? Huh?" Because he needed to hear it. And he needed you to understand who you belonged to right this moment.
"You— Ah! You, you are, Leon, 's you~" You grasp tightly at his flexed arms. Leon groaned, lips finding your neck again, teeth biting over your pulse.
"Good girl." Leon praised, hips diving in deeper, harder, making you see stars. "That's it, take it." His fingers tightened on your hips, and you already know they'll leave bruises behind. "Take it all. All~ of it." He coos.
His hands skimmed over your body, finding your pebbled nipples then harshly pinching them, making you shiver. "You're mine." he growled, hips snapping forward, more demanding than asking. "Say it. Say you're mine."
" 'M yours, 'm yours, 'm yours!" You're barely coherent, whole body jolting at the harsh movement, eyes shut tightly, puffy lips forming a small 'O'
"G-gosh, wait— wait—!" You sob loudly. " 'M gonna pee, 's too much too much-" You stay clenching around him, embarrassed and confused.
Leon laughs softly, shaking his head. His hand slid between your bodies, palm pressing firmly against your lower tummy. "You're not gonna, baby." He was amused. "That’s all me." He gave slow roll of his hips just to watch your eyes roll back.
"You can let go." But you shake your head, soft incoherent pleads filtering over the ringing in your ears. You gasp, mouth slack as your whole body starts convulsing, hot liquid gushing out around Leon's cock.
"Oh fuuh—" You're crying real tears now, from embarrassment, pleasure, pain, you don't know. Your body is still shaking and Leon fucks you through it. His hand slid up to your jaw, lifting your face so he could look at you, all teary eyed and blissed out, your cheeks flushed a pretty color, hair disheveled.
"Dirty girl." he smiled, licking the sweat glistening at the hollow of your throat. "Look at the mess you made on my cock, baby."
His thrusts grew rougher and more desperate, chasing his own release now, body burning with the need to claim you completely. Who cares if he could get you pregnant? Consequences were the last thing on his mind, especially when you were still sucking him in so deep like a vice.
"Look at me." he demanded, fingers gripping your chin tighter, forcing your gaze up to his. "Look at me when I fill you up with my come, okay?"
You nod, left only a babbling mess as your glassy eyes barely keep open. "Y-Yes- ha.." You reply, brain fuzzy.
Leon couldn't fight the moan that rumbled deep in his chest when your eyes finally found his. There was something wild now and possessive in his expression, his thumb tracing your bottom lip, pressing against it.
"That's it~" he crooned, his voice gruff. "Just like that, I know, I know. God, you're so pretty, baby." His thrusts grew uneven, his control shattering as he chased his own release, harder, faster. More, more, he needed more of you. Closer, closer.
His rough thumb found your swollen clit again, circling it faster, a familiar warmth washing over you. "L-Leon—"
"You gonna come again, baby? Gonna come on this cock?"
"Mhm.." You squeak, hips meeting his hand for more friction. "Fuck—" He stilled, hips jerking forward as he spilled deep inside you, a growl rumbling low in his chest as he filled you to the brim. The new feeling of being stuffed brought you over the edge and when you came again, his cock still buried inside you, Leon watched lightheaded as your belly seemed more round slightly under his release.
He hadn’t had this good of a fuck since he was thirty, he thinks.
His fingers traced over the soft swell, pressing lightly just to hear your soft voice. "Jesus." he clicked his tongue. He pulled out slowly, reluctantly, watching with hooded eyes as a slow trickle of his come escaped your gaping entrance.
His thumb swiped through it, smearing it against your skin before pressing two fingers back inside you, just to feel how full you still were.
"S'too much.. So— full.." You whine, more to yourself.
Leon smirked satisfied as your words slurred together, your body limp and pliant beneath him. His fingers curled inside you with an obscene squelch, pressing deeper just to hear you again. "Yeah?" he murmured, voice thick with amusement. "Greedy little thing, aren’t you?"
He leaned down, kissing the soft swell of your belly where his cum still lingered before meeting your sleepy eyes.
"Next time" he began, fingers still working lazily inside you "I’ll fill you up more. Promise."
"Pinky?" Your smile was crooked and he snorts. "Pinky."
He was almost more shocked than you that he had it in him for four more rounds. Maybe that’s what loneliness does to a man— makes him greedy. He knew for a fact he’d never come this many times in one night before. Hell, he didn’t even think it was possible for him anymore. But tonight, with you under him all tight and willing, it felt like his body just refused to stop.
The room had gone quiet.
The only sound left was the slow rhythm of breathing and the faint rustle of sheets as the two of you settled back against the mattress. The earlier drive had burned itself out, leaving only the smell of sex and your sweet perfume filling the air.
Your cheek rested over his heart, one arm draped across his stomach, fingers loosely curled like you’d fallen asleep mid movement. Your breathing was soft and steady now, lashes resting against flushed cheeks, your body slack, deep asleep after you’d given everything you had in you.
Leon stared up at the ceiling. One large hand rested on your back, fingers absentmindedly tracing slow circles. You’d fallen asleep faster than he expected, your body had simply decided it was done for the night.
And you looked peaceful.
He swallowed slowly, his jaw tightening as he looked down at you. God. Your father trusted him, had trusted him for years. Hell, the man had called him family, allowed him stay here without a second thought.
And now here Leon was, in his bed, holding his daughter after he fucked her brains out.
His thumb brushed lightly along your shoulder as you shifted in your sleep, letting out a soft, content little sigh as you burrowed closer against him.
Leon closed his eyes for a moment.
Was it a mistake?
He knew it. Every rational part of his brain knew it. It had consequences written all over it. This was something reckless that happened because the two of you were alone too long, right? Something that wouldn’t happen again, right?
Right.
His hand slid slowly up your back, resting there protectively. Maybe.. Maybe it wasn’t as wrong as it felt.
Yeah, he’d watched you grow up, but maybe that just meant he knew you better than anyone else ever could. Maybe it meant he’d protect you better than anyone else ever would.
Somewhere even deeper in his mind, a small part of him hoped tonight meant something more than just a mistake. Something that would keep the two of you tied together long after the moment passed. Leon closed his eyes, pulling you a little closer against him.
God, he hopes it sticks. It's sick, isn't it? He's sick. But the image is burning in his mind, you round with his child.
He already knew what was going to happen. The more time he spent around you, the worse it would get.
➴ summary: based on this ask, for @gentlenightmare (also, i love your username!)
➴ pairing: enjin x fem!reader
➴ warnings: smoking. smut. virginity and virginity loss. enjin (he's a menace to society, that's why he my type). lack of proof reading (very common, not truly sorry heh). squirting.
➴ wordcount: 3.3k
➴ author note: don't be hard on yourself. you may think you're not enjin's type but that's your brain lying to you, trust me. hope you like it and sorry it took long, i truly just dissociated for a while.
Cleaners’ HQ was quieter than usual, with people preparing for their next missions or choosing to sleep before them.
You couldn’t do either.
You sat on a chair in the dining hall, drawing circles on the table. Watching Enjin sprawled across the couch, consuming the cigarette between his long, tattooed fingers down to the stub. The air felt heavy– like a dangerous storm hiding behind a treeline.
He looked calm, collected, too carefree for someone that would walk into hell tomorrow.
You wished you could be like that.
You wished for too many things, actually.
Enjin tilted his head, catching you staring. Under other circumstances you would have blushed, apologized and busied yourself with imaginary things, but something in his eyes made it impossible to move, to stop staring.
He gave you that cocky, wide smile that made your chest tighten painfully. “Nervous?”
You nodded, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. “You ain’t?”
He shook his head no, letting the stub die on the ashtray. He got up from the couch, walking lazily to your table and sitting down on the chair next to you. You did blush this time, but hid it behind your arms as you crossed them on the table and buried your face on them.
“Thought you might go see your lil’ boyfriend before the mission.”
You laughed, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “What boyfriend?”
“Ain’t got a man?”
“No,” you said softly, your eyes returning to the invisible spot on the table.
Enjin leaned back in the chair, stretching his legs out, boots clacking against the floor. “No man, huh. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
You raised an eyebrow, half offended, half amused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He smirked, smoke still lingering in his voice. “You don’t look like the kind that settles for the idiots ‘round here.”
You snorted, fingers tracing the rim of your empty cup. “Or maybe I just never had the chance.”
Enjin lit another cigarette, humming in thought. For a moment the two of you sat in silence. The world outside felt distant– the missions, the fear, the chaos that awaited for the morning. Maybe that’s what made your words slip out, because the silence was too much, too heavy.
“Never been with anyone, truly.”
He blinked, smirk fading slightly as he exhaled the smoke. “What?”
You shrugged, leaning back in your chair and not meeting his eyes. “Never had the chance. I joined the cleaners young and, well…” your voice faded into a whisper.
Enjin stared at you for a long moment. The air between you shifting. “And?”
“I’m not exactly the type of woman people look twice at. I’m not as smart as the others, not the type of pretty that makes people want to approach me,” you laughed dryly. “Pathetic, right? People always assume given my age that at least I’ve had something. I haven’t.” You let out a tired sigh. “I’m not people’s type. Not your type.”
You met his eyes, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your own.
He shook his head, chuckling in disbelief. “Y’r wrong.”
“About what?”
Enjin leaned forward, elbows on the table, spreading his legs further and forcing his knee to grace yours. He took another drag before answering, voice thick with smoke. “You got no idea how many bastards here can’t even look at you ‘cause they’d trip over their tongues.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I ain’t lying.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but the words got tangled with the ache in your chest. You couldn’t tell if it was fear, or something crueler– hope.
He leaned closer to you, voice dropping low enough to make your pulse stumble. “You really think I’m sittin’ here wastin’ a cigarette on someone I don’t notice?”
“You notice everyone.”
“Nah,” he said softly. “Not everyone.”
He took the first step. It was unsure, tentative, and gave you enough time to pull away if you wanted to.
You didn’t.
His lips were soft to the touch, a little cold. He smelt of cigarettes and the slice of pie he had eaten during dinner.
You kissed him back clumsily, your hands shaking.
It soon turned heated. Enjin kissed you hungrily, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. You felt his tongue against your lips and opened them, and suddenly he was everywhere.
The cigarette was forgotten atop the table, one of his hands moving to cradle your head while the other found home in your hip. He tasted every inch of you, groaning softly when he felt your legs moving. He took a quick glance down to see you closing them, thighs flushed.
When he looked at you again your eyes were wide, your lips parted– wet and red from him.
The hand on your thigh sneaked up, dangerously close to your clothed womanhood.
“You can say no,” he said. Voice low and rough. “Or we can go back to my room.”
You couldn’t answer him, your voice lost somewhere between the way he sounded and the way he looked– eyes glossy, lips plump from the kiss. So you grabbed his hand, tightly as if to reassure him, or maybe you just wanted to reassure yourself.
Enjin wasted no time. He was up in a second, pulling you to your feet and tugging you behind him as he made his way out the dining hall and into the hallway.
Turn after turn after turn– after what seemed like a fucking lifetime you found yourself at his room door. He pushed it open with enough force that it collided against the wall. Then, he pushed you inside and followed, closing it behind him and making sure to lock it.
He was on you again, hungrier, desperate. You moaned when he grabbed your ass and felt him press against you, no hesitation, no flinch at the give of your stomach. You could feel it even through your layers of clothing.
Enjin was huge. Sure, you didn’t have anything to compare it to, but the fact that it felt as long as your fucking forearm was enough to excite you– and scare you.
Would it even fit?
You let out a little gasp. Enjin smirked, his lips moving from yours to your neck, where he left little kisses and bit away as his will. His hands moved from your ass to the soft curve of your waist, pressing down the flesh to leave marks.
Who knew Enjin was such a territorial man, huh. You weren’t complaining. If you died tomorrow, at least you would’ve been marked as his.
He pushed you back until your knees hit the bed and you fell back on it. Looking up, panting and eyes wide you saw him take off his clothes hurriedly, desperation evident in the trembling of his hands and the quick rising of his chest.
You took a minute to admire him– the tattoos that hid scars he didn’t want the world to see, sharp golden eyes with pupils blown from lust, the glinting of his rings each time they caught light. Enjin looked majestic, as he always did, sure, but something about having him naked in front of you– for you, made the familiar rush of blood feel different.
Every inch of your body felt hot and seemed to call his name.
“Enjin?”
“Yeah, babe?”
You bit the inside of your cheek, avoiding his gaze as you spoke. “Are you sure ‘bout this? I mean, I just don’t want it to…”
“Wanted you since the first time I saw you,” he cut you off. His hand grabbing your face to force you to look at him. “I just didn’t think I had a chance, pretty girl.”
He lay on top of you, one arm holding himself up. His cock rested nestled between his stomach and yours, leaking with pre-cum that felt hot when it dripped down to your skin. He leaned in, mouth inches apart from yours.
Enjin looked one second away from breaking completely. Not that you were much different, to be honest. Flushed flesh, parted lips and your own pupils matching his. You slowly raised a hand to his chest, then moved it up to the back of his neck.
You kissed him. Your other hand came up to cradle his face and he bucked his hips as he effortlessly kissed you back. He moaned at the friction.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you said in between kisses.
Enjin took your hand, guiding it down to his cock. You grabbed it softly as he guided you with his own. He guided your thumb to his slit and applied pressure, moaning at the feeling. Then, as his own hand engulfed yours, he started thrusting. “Just like this, pretty girl.”
You did as you were told, your own hand going up and down his cock in sync with his thrusts. Your thumb helped spread the pre-cum so it wouldn’t be painful. Enjin hid his face on the crook of your neck, his lips right next to your ear as he continued moaning and groaning and pleading, kissing and licking while he trembled.
Seeing him lost in pleasure had an effect. Your own cunt wetter by the second, begging for something– a touch, a kiss, anything. You had to bite down your lips to stop yourself from whining, but after a particularly low thrust in which his knee grazed your clothed cunt, you let out a whimper.
He stopped, removing your hand from its grasp. You were about to complain when he kissed you again, all tongue and saliva this time. He picked some of his seed on his thumb, then he pressed the finger to your lips and watched you open your mouth to taste him.
Salty, hot, not unpleasant.
“My turn,” he said, moving to kneel between your legs.
Skilled hands removed your trousers, then your underwear, until you were bare in front of him. You saw him lick his lips, moving down to face your cunt.
Something felt weird, then. Like it was wrong, like this wasn’t supposed to happen. You had no experience, but had enough knowledge. You knew what he was about to do, but shyness took a hold of you before you could stop it.
“Wait,” you grabbed his hair. “You don’t have to.”
“Please,” he begged. High-pitch and everything. “Please let me eat you out, babe, lemme eat this pretty pussy.”
Was it the begging? Was it the way he eyed your pussy like a starved man eyed food? You didn’t know nor did you want to know. All you knew is that you liked him, that he liked you, and that you wanted to find out what it felt like.
You let go of his hair.
Enjin groaned, lips closing around your clit and sucking. You moaned out loud, grabbing his hair again–this time to push him closer, as you bucked your hips up. Enjin grabbed your thighs again, this time his nails sank into your flesh and the combination of pain and pleasure had you rolling your eyes and throwing your head back.
He ate like he moved through life: confident, skilled. His tongue pressed against your closed entrance and prodded, finally going in to continue tasting you. By the way he moaned against it you’d think you had the sweetest nectar between your legs. To him you did.
When his lips returned to your clit: his tongue flicking it over and over, rolling itself. He then bit it before sucking again and you felt a single digit against your entrance. Your cunt so desperate to be filled that it sucked on air.
He slowly introduced it in, curling it inside as he pumped in and out. He picked up the pace, but not so much that it felt wrong. He took his time, making sure you were ready when he added a second finger. The stretch felt so good you sighed, tightening your hold on his hair.
It seemed Enjin also felt good, good enough to chuckle against your clit and hump the mattress so he could alleviate some of his needs.
With two fingers inside he didn’t just curl them and explored the inside of your cunt, he also made scissoring motions to stretch you further, open you up, get you ready for him.
But his fingers and his mouth, it became too much. That known knot in your lower belly was forming fast–faster than it ever did when you touched yourself. Your legs trembled against his sides and something else, something you had never felt before, arose in your body.
“Enjin,” you whined. Attempted to push him back due to the unknown feeling.
He caressed your flesh, looking up at you as his fingers continued to move. “It’s fine, babe. It’s gonna feel good, I promise. Trust me, yeah?” You nodded.
He let himself enjoy the pleasure of adding a third finger– for good measure, of course. The further stretch burnt, but in a good way.
His fingers had found something inside you that you had never been able to reach on your own, and he was abusing it as much as he could. His tongue worked wonders on your clitoris, lapping at it like a thirsty dog.
You saw white when your orgasm came. Your legs closed against Enjin’s head, your head thrown back against the bed and your eyes rolled to the back of it. You screamed his name, letting go of his hair to grab the sheets under you. He fucked you through it, only stopping when your whines became whimpers and the overstimulation was too much.
Enjin sat back on his knees, looking down to see the mess. You looked at him, too–at his face dripping with your cum. Well, his face, his lips, his neck. He was covered in all your glory.
He stroked his cock and licked his lips clean, then his fingers–slightly covered with blood.
With no innocence left to resist the intrusion of his cock, he lined himself, slapping your cunt with it and using your release as lube.
He looked at you again, whispering. “Y’r sure?”
“I just came on your face.”
He grinned. “Such a good meal.”
You laughed, slapping his arm. “Y’r nasty.”
“I can be a lot worse, but I don’t wanna hurt you babe.”
“I’m sure,” you said, locking your legs around his waist.
Enjin thrusted, letting his pretty reddened tip go past your lower lips, pushing slowly to not break you in half. As much as he wanted to bury himself in you, he knew he still had to be careful and let you adjust to his size. You whimpered and clawed as his arms, his lips let out sweet praises against your ear as he disappeared inside you inch by inch.
So good, so tight, you’re doing so well, my pretty girl, your cunt feels so good. As he pushed in further, his words became more and more filthy and all you could do was moan at them.
He bottomed out with a long groan. “Y’r gripping my cock like you want it to stay inside you forever,” he chuckled. “Want that, babe? I wouldn’t complain.”
You couldn’t answer, just gasp. It felt so big and you felt so full that you wanted to feel even fuller, filled up to the brim with his salty cum inside of you. You whimpered when he didn’t move, because although he was doing it for you, all you wanted was for him to move, to let you feel his cock going in and out your cunt, so you bucked your hips up.
Enjin began thrusting. Long, deep thrusts that resonated throughout the room in wetness. You moaned and moaned, tightening your legs around him and asking, begging for more.
Nothing had ever felt as good, as satisfying, as getting fucked by the man you loved.
You couldn’t get enough.
He built a rhythm, going faster than before. Dragging his cock back out to the tip and then all the way in, over and over. He was so vocal it made your skin tingle.
You could feel him clearly, the veins of his cock touching your walls, the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot all the time. He truly knew what he was doing.
And it built again, that fire, that knot that told you you were close to release again. By the way your cunt clenched around his cock he knew it too and his pace became relentless. Quick and sharp thrusts left you gasping for air as he chased your orgasm.
You came with a silent scream, clawing at his back and lifting its skin, leaving sweet and red markings behind. He hissed, throwing his head back in pleasure and kept going.
“Enjin,” you whimpered, already tired of your second orgasm and the overstimulation that came with him still fucking you through it.
“Just,” he said through gritted teeth. “Just a second, I’m close, so close.”
You felt him shudder, his hips stuttering as he lost pace and just decided to brutally fuck you. It was so raw, so intense. The squelching sound of his cock bullying your cunt, the sound of skin against skin as his balls slapped your ass each time he thrusted in. He hooked your leg up and against his shoulder, the position made you even tighter than you already were.
“Please, please, fill me up, Enjin.”
Your words pushed him to the edge and Enjin came with a deep, throaty groan, burying himself to the tilt inside you. You felt his cum shooting inside, long ropes of thick release coating your insides and making them feel so, so warm and good. You matched his thrusts as more and more cum escaped his cock, enjoying all–his cum and cock inside you, his voice, the feeling of his balls slapping your ass still.
Enjin fell next to you with a thump. He was panting, his chest rising and falling in mirror to yours. Your legs and hands shaking. His cum–and yours–leaving your cunt like water flowing in a riverbed.
“I’m fucking these next,” he said, fondling your breast. You blushed, letting out a gasp that was half-laugh. He kissed you then. “And this pretty mouth of yours, too.”
“Enjin!”
He laughed. “What? Can’t a man appreciate his woman?”
“How is that the same?”
“It is!” He defended himself, propping himself up in an elbow to look at you. His lazy grin was back in place and in full force. “I can’t get enough of you.”
You rolled your eyes. “Whatever.”
Enjin frowned, his smirk disappearing as he looked right into your eyes. “Hey. I mean it. I want to be with you, I’ve wanted to for a long time. I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”
“Why? I just don’t understand.”
“What do you mean, babe? You are smart, you always listen and critique people when they’re doing something wrong, know what people are feeling even before they realise. You care so much about everybody that not a single motherfucker in this place would hesitate to protect you. And you’re hot, specially when you wear that fuckin’ white t-shirt. I have to use Umbreaker to hide my boner every time you crouch down to pick something up.”
You were silenced at his words. Enjin was so good at lifting others up, but he never lied. It was a little promise he had made to himself a long time ago. He didn’t need to lie for people to give their all, just be themselves and comfortable in their own skin.
After, when he fell asleep against your back, you lay awake in his bed. You thought about every little moment Riyo teased you, every little comment made by Zanka, even Corvus’ knowing eyes when he spotted you and Enjin together.
It made sense, you guessed.
The following morning, you and Enjin walked to the car holding hands. And once the mission was over and done with, you knew he didn’t lie to you that night.
Because the first thing he did was throw himself at you and wrap his arms around your frame, kissing you in front of the entire team. “Let’s go home, my pretty girl.”
please do not repost, translate or claim as your own.
I was today years old when I learned that when you type "otp: true" in AO3 search results it filters out fics with additional ships, leaving only the fics where your otp is the main ship
NOT MY ASTARION BRAIN ROT CONTINUING CUS LIKE i just got the scene where he literally says he misses seeing his face and that like he wishes he knew what he looked like and i??? WANTED SO BADLY FOR IT TO BE AN OPTION TO DRAW HIM
LIKE IMAGINE STARING AT HIM ACROSS THE BONFIRE, watching the way the light dances across his pale skin. youve been through hard times and one of the things you've learned to get through it was to draw
at first, you loathed the fact that you had to paint rich people for mere couple pieces of gold when you knew your art was worth more than that. you loathed even more that they'd upturn their posh noses at you and scoff when, truly, they knew what a treasure your art was.
now, seeing astarion, the way his white hair seemed to almost form a halo around his head, reflecting the moonbeams that graced his body, watching as he crossed his legs and meditated; you knew that you didn't regret a single second of the trials and tribulations that led you to this point.
you could finally put this agonizing skill to use. you could draw him.
and so you scrounged up some paper, an ink well, a quill; all things you'd pocketed during your adventures with the rather willful vampire.
you sat there, nib of the quill scratching against the parchment.
your art was nothing compared to the paintings you'd done before; these were mere lines and ink blots. you wished you could truly show him how beautiful he was through water color or pastels. instead, trapped in a land you barely knew, all you could do for him was this.
he had his eyes closed, of course, so you drew them from memory. strikingly red, like rubies, like blood. you didn't forget his crow's feet; you loved the way they wrinkled when he laughed. you shaped his lips, soft but rough from years of bite and chew, and formed it into his infamous mischievous grin.
his hair always seemed unruly but, drawing it now, it felt like drawing gorgeous chaos; there was an order to it, the way the bangs fell across his forehead, the way the sides feathered in front of his ears and curled behind them.
when you stopped, you realised you'd drawn him over and over, across several pieces of parchment.
the way he frowned and his fangs would glance across his lips. the way he'd look confused and his eyebrows would furrow. the way he'd look longingly at the stars, mind distant and eyes almost empty, like he'd made so many wishes that were never granted by the cosmos.
you never liked tooting your own horn but you felt like you truly captured him.
so, you took your pieces of paper, all drawings of him, dozens of them, small and sketchy; you took it all and you sat beside him and spread them out in front of you.
it took him a second to realise you were there. he'd been letting his guard down recently, especially when you were on watch duty, and it took you laying your head across his shoulder for his eyes to flutter open.
he opened his mouth, like there had almost been a retort slipping off his tongue, but the sight of your drawings stopped him.
he let out a ragged breath, eyes flickering across all of them. his clawed hands hovered in the air, trembling, as if taking a hold of the drawings would make them crumble under his touch.
and perhaps, in his head, he really believed they would.
'darling,' he'd call you, his voice wet with unshed tears 'what's all of this?'
of course he'd still joke. it was how he coped with things. he joked to hide how he truly felt and, of course, you were always there to understand.
'it's you,' you answered a matter-of-factly, as if you hadn't just turned this vampires world upside down 'its you the way i see you.'
and that's what makes him crack. because maybe, since you were the one that drew all of it, you hadn't noticed. but he noticed.
he noticed all the love and devotion you spilled across the page. every single detail, every single stroke, it was all from love.
and as someone who had never been on the receiving end of it, astarion cracked and he hid his face into your neck and he cried.
they were soft sobs, almost unnoticeable. but he cried nonetheless.
he cried for his past that he'd lost under his sadistic master, he cried for his difficult present that seemed impossible to escape, and he cried for this hopeful future you seemed to lay out in front of him.
he cried because he didn't realise that he had this much hope left inside of him. because he didn't know what else to do in the face of your devotion.
you just sat there, humming and rubbing his back, ignoring the way his arm wrapped around your waist, claws digging into your skin as if you'd disappear in front of him if he didn't hold on to you as tightly as possible.
TW: Reader is referred to as a girl, smoking, low self confidence
You stood nervously in front of your mirror. You had no idea how your friends convinced you to do this, you thought you looked utterly ridiculous. Somehow they managed to convince you to try out modeling, much to your dismay.
"With a face like that, you'd catch on quick!" Your best friend told you.
You never intended on trying it. But now that you were in desperate need of money, well, it couldn't hurt could it? Your hands trailed down your outfit. It was a simple A-line dress, the color a soft pink. You wore gold jewelry; a dainty bracelet, dangling earrings, and a basic necklace.
Your eyes flicked over your figure as you scrutinized yourself, until a knock brought you back to reality. You jolted up straight and briskly walked to your door, opening it to see the photographer you hired. He stood tall with a brown coat on, his expensive camera dangling around his neck. A large scar painted his face, and his blonde hair laid messy on the top of his head.
"Hello! Kishibe?" You spoke fast, jutting your hand out.
Kishibe blinked several times at you in disbelief. He had done shoots with many models before, however they were usually dead ends. Women who thought they were all that, but had actually been washed up for decades. They were all the same. But no, not you. Your youthful face lit up at his presence, your soft skin shining underneath your dress. He was mesmerized.
"Yes. You must be Y/N." Kishibe responded, taking your hand in his.
He shook it with a firm grip, until your hand dropped back down to your side.
"I guess let's uh, get started?" You said nervously, wringing your fingers.
Kishibe's eyes trailed down your body before looking up outside.
"Yeah. It's a nice day out, I noticed some flowers on my way here, I think you would look really good in front of them." His husky voice drew out.
You felt your cheeks heat up at the half compliment, and you nodded. Your door slammed behind you as you followed him out to a flower patch near your house. A plane of wildflowers. Every so often you would venture out to pick some of the flowers for your kitchen table or to place in your hair.
Kishibe was standing straight fiddling with his camera while your hands glided over the petals. His eyes flitted up and noticed your fascination.
"Grab one. It'll look good for the photos." Kishibe mumbled, lifting his camera up to his eye.
You grabbed a yellow flower and slid it in your ear, leaning back against a wooden gate.
Kishibe directed you in different poses. One was against the fence and another one standing straight with your arm outstretched, the flower held in your hand. The last ones were of you laying in the field, your hair framing your face. A goofy smile lit up your visage the more loosened up you became. Kishibe smiled slightly as he clicked his camera, his eyes lingering on your exposed thigh. He had never felt this way about a client before.
The two of you had been out for an hour, sweat beginning to grow on your brow from the pounding heat of the sun. Kishibe flicked through his camera looking at the photos as you tilted your head back, taking a sip from a water bottle.
Water escaped your lips, a thin line dripping down your chin onto your chest, making its way down. Kishibe averted his eyes and cleared his throat looking up at you.
"That should do it for today. Once these are edited I will send them to you." He advised, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
You nodded, slightly nervous but also excited.
"I can't wait!" You said, and you meant it.
~~~
It had been two weeks since your first shoot with Kishibe, and you were feeling much better. Nerves still coursed through your veins, but you weren't nervous about your looks anymore. The second you saw the edited photos Kishibe emailed you, you were hooked. You looked so beautiful, so ethereal in them. You chided Kishibe for putting heavy filters on them, but the truth was that he hardly edited them at all. In fact he only did minor touch ups, such as adjusting the lighting or colors. It was your own beauty, your own radiance shining through.
The next photo shoot you decided on would be much more intimate. You sat alone in your bed waiting for the photographer to ring your doorbell. You wore a thin pink nightgown, with minimal makeup on. A lollipop sat loosely in your mouth as you kicked your legs back and forth sitting on the bed. It was meant to be something akin to a slumber party shoot, if slumber parties could have only one participant. The ringing of your doorbell woke you up from your thoughts, jolting you to answer it. Kishibe was dressed in a black button down, with black pants.
"Hey!" You said nervously.
Kishibe's eyes dragged up and down your body, nodding once.
"My friend told me I should start wearing a little less if I'm comfortable. I don't know, this feels a little short." You murmured shuffling back and forth as he analyzed your clothes.
"Don't worry. I'll be here the whole time, it'll be okay. You look great." He responded finally, dragging his eyes up to yours.
You moved to the side and let him in, his shoulder briefly brushing against you. A shock of nerves ran through your body. Why did his touch make you feel that way? You suppose it had been a long time since you had touched a man.
You led Kishibe to your room, his eyes following your nightgown as it swayed along. Once you finally reached your room you turned around, Kishibe suddenly very close to you. Your eyes widened as you swallowed hard. You could feel salvia begin to pool around the lollipop in your mouth.
"Let me get rid of this." You mumbled, pulling the candy out.
"No- Keep it in. It fits with the theme." Kishibe responded, pulling the camera from around his neck.
You nodded slowly and wrapped your lips around the sucker, maintaining eye contact as you did so. You found it was very hard to look away. Kishibe backed away and tilted his chin up towards your bed. You nodded and slid yourself on the mattress, your hands propped behind you and your legs pointed towards the camera. Kishibe began taking shots, trying to keep his eyes from lingering on how smooth your legs looked. He could hardly take his gaze off your lips, how they were tinted red from the sugar and wrapped tightly around the lollipop. No matter how much he tried to avoid the thought, you were irresistible to him.
You flipped into different positions, each time you felt Kishibe's eyes lingering on you. It made heat rush to your cheeks, butterflies coursing through your stomach. Kishibe had you sitting on your legs, facing the camera. There was a bulge in your cheek from the candy, the stick languidly poking out of your mouth.
"Alright, let's try one without it." Kishibe spoke, his head in photographer mode.
Before you could respond, Kishibe's fingers pulled at the candy, sliding it out of your mouth. Your eyes widened in surprise as the lollipop slipped from your lips. Kishibe's eyes looked calculated as he held the candy stick between his fingers like a cigarette as he took a couple of pictures without the candy.
"Pout your lip out for me." He ordered, eyes focusing.
You poked your lip out slightly, shifting on your legs. They were beginning to fall asleep.
Kishibe's thumb reached out, tugging your bottom lip. Your sugar coated kiss threatened to stain his thumb pad as he pulled it down.
"Just like that, good girl." Kishibe murmured.
You felt like your heart was pounding in your ears. You swallowed hard and kept your lip in position as he snapped another picture. Wetness began growing between your thighs, heat pooling in your core. You hadn't realized you were holding your breath until Kishibe stepped away, looking down to flip through the shots he had taken. You sat down more, finally breathing.
"You're doing really good. Think you can handle a couple more?" Kishibe asked, his eyes flicking up to you.
You blinked several times and nodded. He instructed you to lay on your back, with your legs pointed toward the ceiling. One leg was relaxed and bent while the other was pointed. You were meant to pretend as if you were on the phone. Your thin pajamas slightly bunched up at your waist, showcasing your upper thighs. Kishibe circled around your body getting pictures from different angles. Only then did he notice the growing wet patch on your pure white underwear. He cocked an eyebrow and looked up at you. You seemingly didn't notice. Kishibe took a picture from that angle and circled back.
"Perfect." He spoke quietly.
Heat pooled in your abdomen at the praise. Each second that passed with him you were growing more aware of the attraction you felt towards him. How silly was that? He was here just doing a job, and you couldn't stop thinking about what he might look like sitting on a couch, arms slinged back with hooded eyelids.
"I think we got enough shots. Like last time, I'll edit these and send them to you. Do you have any questions?" His voice rang, pulling you from your sinful thoughts.
You shook your head and stood up, running your hands down your thighs as if to wipe away the ideas.
"No, thank you Kishibe."
"Of course, it's a pleasure to work with you." He responded casually, reaching his hand out.
You grasped onto it and shook it, the firmness of his skin startling you. You watched as Kishibe excused himself from your front door, remnants of adrenaline still coursing through your veins.
~~~
More time had passed when you decided to do another shoot. It was only your third photo shoot with Kishibe, but you had already felt entirely comfortable. However, no matter how comfortable you felt, nothing would prepare you for this next shoot. Your friends had urged you to take more risqué photos, claiming that it would get you more attention. They weren't pressuring you, and you knew they were right. You didn't feel comfortable enough to do lingerie photos, let alone full nude, so you settled on the next best thing. Swim suit photos. The tight fabric dug into your hips, leaving little to the imagination. The style complemented your body shape, accentuating certain points. You had never been extremely confident, but you learned to love yourself more through Kishibe's lens. They portrayed you in a light you never saw yourself in prior. Someone beautiful, carefree, strong.
The sun beat down on you, sweat flickering your eyebrow. You wiped it away with a sigh, settling down on the chair in your friends backyard. She was gone for the weekend and offered you to use her pool for shoots. You loved the idea, but felt bad about using her house.
A floppy hat sat on your head, shielding you from the scorching sun. Sunglasses hung low on your nose, your gaze darting back and forth over the water. It was incredibly hot today, at least 90 degrees. Your skin tickled, nerves beginning to bubble in the pit of your stomach. This would be the most skin you showed during a photo shoot, you were worried it would be too risqué. Before your thoughts could get the better of you, you heard a knock at the side gate. Your head perked up, legs carrying you to the gate. You swung it open and saw Kishibe standing there, as stoic as ever. He was wearing his usual attire, a white dress shirt and black pants. It was a view you enjoyed a lot, you've decided.
Just as you were admiring him, he was admiring you. The way your hair looked, the sweat that sheened against your stomach. He wondered if this was how you looked when you got fucked.
"Welcome!" You said cheerfully, stepping to the side to invite him in.
Kishibe walked passed you and looked around at the pool. He had to admit, he was excited when you told him you wanted to do a bikini shoot.
He instructed you to lay on one of the chairs beside the pool, a large umbrella shading you from the bright sun. You sipped on a straw drinking lemonade as the camera clicked.
"How far were you wanting to go?" Kishibe asked as he flipped through the pictures.
"Um, I mean, I'm not sure. What were you thinking?" You responded nervously.
"We could do a topless picture. Just of your back, with sunscreen on it." He suggested, looking up to gauge your reaction.
Your face heat up. Was it because of the sun, or because of him? You pondered the idea, taking a deep breath. Before you could think about it any further, you nodded your head, agreeing to it.
Kishibe's lips quirked up at the end, nodding once. You stood up and tried to take off your top, but the knot wouldn't come undone. Kishibe raised his eyebrows watching you.
"I think- think it's tangled." You murmured.
Kishibe lowered his camera and turned you around, hand brushing against your back. It sent a jolt through you. You pulled your lip between your teeth. His fingers worked nimbly at untying the knot, working fast. Once it was untied, the strings fell to your sides, tickling your skin. You pulled it over your head and laid it on the chair. The air nipped at your exposed chest, the sensation welcoming. Kishibe cleared his throat and looked away. You covered your chest with your arm and turned to face him.
"Lay on the ground by the pool on your stomach." He ordered. His words almost got caught in his throat. All he could think was: Why? Seeing someone half naked wasn't new to him. He wondered why he having this reaction.
You nodded and slowly slid down by the pool. The warm concrete was a contrast between the chill that ran down your skin.
"We'll wanna do this fast so the ground doesn't burn you." He mumbled.
As you laid down on the scorching cement, you crossed your arms out in front of you, resting your head against them. Kishibe took a couple of photos of your back. After you heard a couple of clicks from the camera, you felt cool liquid splay across your back. Sunscreen. Kishibe's fingers rubbed across your back, spreading the white substance around. You let out a soft sigh, the noise startling Kishibe. He cleared his throat, trying to rid the sinful thoughts from his head. He stepped back and looked into the camera admiring the oily sheen that coated your back, and snapped a couple more shots. Once complete he helped you stand up, averting his eyes away from your chest, even though one of your arms was covering you in modesty.
"Aren't you hot wearing that?" You asked nonchalantly, looking over your shoulder at his outfit. He handed you your bikini top and helped tie it on you again, his fingers brushing your back.
"Yeah." He responded shortly.
You turned around once the top was on. Your eyes flicked up to his before looking back down at his chest. Something about him was making you feel more bold. You lifted your hands up and unbuttoned the first couple of buttons on his shirt, exposing the top of his chest.
"Does that feel better?" You asked, mostly innocently.
Kishibe blinked several times and stared at you. He couldn't decide what you were getting at. Did you want him as much as he wanted you? Was his old alcohol riddled brain playing tricks on him?
"Feels wonderful sweetheart, thank you." He responded.
You could feel your cheeks heating up, the confidence searing away faster than it had come on.
"Good." You mumbled.
Kishibe recognized he flustered you, a small smile painted on his face.
"Let me know when you want to shoot again." He said, looking you up and down before excusing himself.
Like always, he emailed you the photos after they were edited. You felt a surge of confidence rush through you as you scrolled through the photos. You had been collecting every picture for a portfolio, as you would be sending it out to modeling agencies soon. You were certainly glad Kishibe was still helping you. You paid him, but he didn't request much. The most expensive shoot was the first one you had together. You wondered why.
Your friends went crazy over the bikini shoots, pointing out the topless one. You tried to tell them you couldn't see anything and it was just your back, but they still loved it.
"Every photo shoot you've done so far has been innocent, why not do something a little more sexy?" Your best friend suggested with an evil grin.
You rolled your eyes but pressed for more details. It was then that you came up with the idea for a lingerie shoot. You decided you were finally ready. The only issue was location. You weren't sure where the best place to hold the photo shoot would be. You spoke to Kishibe over the phone about it, and he suggested meeting up at a parking lot and going from there.
You had put on your outfit. It was a black bralette, thong, and garter belt. You wrapped a trench coat on top of you for decency sake before driving to the designated parking lot. It was a multilevel parking lot on the outskirts of town. You had met with Kishibe dozens of times before, but for some reason meeting him like this sent anxiety coursing through you. It was the location and the outfit you were wearing, you decided.
Once arriving you drove to the top of the parking lot, staying in your car until you saw Kishibe's headlights shining through your windshield. You stepped out of your car and slammed the door behind you, leaning against the door. He pulled up across from you and turned his car off, sliding outside of his car.
"You look..." He started. "Lovely."
You blushed at the compliment and pushed off your car, walking up to him.
"Thank you. Where do you want to do the shoot?" You asked, clearing your throat.
Kishibe pondered, looking up. He truthfully didn't have a place in mind. Now that he thought about it, the lighting here would look nice.
"Why don't we do it here?" He suggested, meeting your eyes again.
Your eyes widened at the double entendre before looking around. There weren't any other cars around, and the lights that lined the parking lot would make for an interesting effect, you thought.
"Okay." You nodded, running a hand through your hair.
While Kishibe pulled out his equipment, you unbuttoned your trenchcoat. A brush of cool air ran up your body, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. Kishibe's eye flitted up, looking at your body. His eyes almost rolled to the back of his head at the sight. You looked absolutely delectable. He cleared his throat and tilted his head toward his car. You understood the gesture and made your way to the vehicle. He helped you crawl on top of the hood of the car, laying down on it.
Flashes of light entered your periphery as he clicked the shutter. You ran you fingers down your body, leaving goosebumps in your fingers wake. Kishibe's gaze fell to your lower half, where he noticed your underwear. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It was taking all of his willpower to not take you then and there. Once finished with that position, Kishibe reached his hand out to help you step off from the car. You both decided to take a break, you checking your phone and him lighting a cigarette. The smoke wafted to your nostrils. Usually you hated the smell of people smoking, but for some reason you didn't mind it now. In fact, you liked it. The smoke smelled sweeter coming from him.
You put your phone in your trench coat pocket, leaning against the hood of the car. One of your knees was bent, propping you up. Your trench coat was open, but still on. Your lingerie peeked from behind the fabric, daring anyone to see what was underneath.
"That looks good." Kishibe mumbled, ashing his cigarette and walking up to you. Your eyes followed his movements carefully.
"Just need to fix this." He whispered, stopping in front of you.
You watched him as he put the cigarette in between his lips, smoke billowing from the side. He reached his hand up and slipped one of his fingers underneath your garter. His skin burned against yours, lighting a fire in your core. His eyes were trained on the garter, as you watched his face. His finger lingered before he pulled it back.
"Do you smoke?" He asked nonchalantly, looking up at you.
The proximity to his face sent a rush to your brain.
"Why?" You responded.
"Have an idea." He said back before taking a deep inhale of his cigarette. He blew the smoke out over your figure and stood back, taking a picture. The hazy fog coated your figure in the photo. If it were anyone else you would have been livid, but the moment felt so intimate.
"Open your mouth." He demanded softly.
Without a second thought you did as you were told. Your mouth hung open loosely, you were tempted to stick your tongue out as well.
Kishibe took the cigarette from his mouth and flipped it around, facing it at you. He slid the stick in between your lips where it lay lazily. The taste of tobacco coated your tongue immediately. Kishibe stood back and begun taking more photos of you as you perched yourself against his car, his cigarette between your plush lips. As minutes passed, the effects of the nicotine were going straight to your veins, making your head feel woozy.
Once finished, Kishibe walked up close to you.
"Do you want the rest sweetheart?" He coolly asked.
You shook your head slightly, mesmerized by him. His thumb and pointer finger plucked the cigarette from your mouth. There was a bright red stain from your lipstick on it, but he didn't mind. He maintained eye contact with you as he flipped the stick around and slotted it between his lips. The sight made your knees want to crumble. Did he know what he was doing to you?
"I think these are going to turn out great." He mumbled to himself as he stepped back flipping through the photos on his camera. He would be lying if he said this wasn't his favorite shoot. He wondered if you would mind if he kept some of them for his personal collection.
"Thank you Kishibe, for all that you do." You spoke, pushing yourself off his car. And you meant it. You wouldn't be where you were now if not for him.
"It's nothing. You're a pleasure to work with." He responded, trying to keep his gaze from dropping to your chest.
"Still. Thank you." You repeated. You stood on your tiptoes and placed your lips on his scratchy cheek. You pulled away as soon as you kissed him, and without another word made your way to your car. The scent of your perfume clung to him more than the tobacco did.
On the drive home you couldn't stop thinking about Kishibe. Why did you want him this bad? Did he want you the same? You knew he wouldn't make the first move out of respect for you, but would he stop you if you made the first move? There was only one way to tell.
~~~
Over the past week you begun concocting a plan to get Kishibe. You had never been so brazen before when it came to partners, so you didn't know what was stirring the sudden boost of confidence. Maybe it was the fact he was driving you that crazy. The closer the day came to your plan, the more nerves bubbled in your stomach. What if he was going to reject you? The idea terrified you, but not knowing scared you more.
You bought a new set of lingerie for the occasion, a beautiful delicate red piece that hugged you in all the right areas. You applied a thin layer of makeup before throwing on a silk black robe to conceal yourself. You flipped through your email to find Kishibe's information. He had sent you his phone number along with his address in case you ever needed it. And as it turns out, you did.
Anxiety coursed through your body as you strutted up to his front door. Before you could back out, you raised your hand and knocked on it heavily.
Kishibe was sitting on his couch, flipping through work emails when he heard you. He raised an eyebrow at the sound. He wasn't expecting anyone, was he? He stood up and made his way to the door, and peeked through the peephole. And there you were, standing right outside his door, looking like a lost lamb.
He opened the door. His eyes scanning up your figure.
"Y/N? What brings you here?" He asked, his voice gravely.
"Kishibe! We had a shoot today, you didn't remember?" You responded, feet shuffling beneath you.
Kishibe knew this wasn't true. He was meticulous about his schedule, planning and writing everything down. But he decided to play along.
"Is that so?" He asked, leaning against the door frame.
You nodded and looked away, becoming bashful.
"Yeah, but if now's not a good time then we can reschedule."
"Don't be silly, come on in."
With a small grin, Kishibe stepped to the side, allowing you access to his apartment. It was small, but cozy. As you passed by, he got another whiff of that damned perfume.
"It's nice." You commented, looking around.
Kishibe grunted in response, shutting the door behind you. He excused himself to his bedroom to retrieve his camera. While he was gone, you shed your robe. It slowly fell down your body, crumbling up on the ground underneath you. Kishibe rounded the corner, immediately stopping when he saw you. The mere sight of you in clothes like that in his apartment sent a rush of pleasure to his cock.
"Incredible as always." He commented, walking up closer to you.
"Why don't we start on the ground?" He purposed.
Your cold fingers dragged along your stomach, feeling up your body. You laid on your back, hands gliding up your torso. You were arched, jutting out your goods for the camera. You had done shoots with Kishibe, but none like this. None had been so sensual.
"Just like that. Good girl." Kishibe's voice whispered, the huskiness never faltering.
You switched positions several times. Now, you rested on your hands and knees, Kishibe crouching down to click photos. You had been modeling for long enough to know you were meant to look in the lens of the camera. But your eyes were locked on his. His eyes flicked between yours and the camera in between each photo.
Kishibe lowered his camera and walked up closer to you. Your hands and knees ached from the position. He tilted your head up with his forefinger, analyzing your face. He licked his lips, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. Kishibe thumbed your bottom lip, parting it ever so slightly. If anyone had come across the two of you in this position, they might think you were on your hands and knees, just for him.
"That's it. Just like that." He murmured, stepping away to snap a photo of you.
Your core was set ablaze at his praise. You wanted more. You needed more.
"Kishibe." You breathed out.
He wet his lips with his tongue and looked past the camera at you.
"I..." You trailed off.
"I want you." You spoke the words that you had been thinking since you first met.
A smile spread on Kishibe's face at your boldness.
"Yeah?" He asked.
You nodded, looking up at him patiently.
He curled a finger towards you, beckoning you to him. He set his camera on the table beside him. You maintained eye contact as you crawled on your hands and knees towards him. Your heart pounding in your ears as you reached up for his belt. He made no move to stop you, opting to only watch. You licked your lips and began unbuttoning his pants, seeing the semi hard form beneath it. Your mouth was beginning to water, you needed him so bad. Kishibe hummed at you, eyes trailing to your behind. You shifted onto just your knees, pulling his cock out from his underwear. It was longer and thicker than you had been expecting, the sight making your bottom lip quiver. Your eyes looked up to him as you rubbed your hand down on his cock, your lips hovering over the tip. Kishibe exhaled softly before you enveloped his length in your mouth. The taste of him went straight to your pussy.
Your knees ached as they pressed against the cold hardwood floor of his living room. The back of Kishibe's hand caressed your cheek, warmth flowing through you.
"You look so beautiful like this." Kishibe spoke.
In the past you would've done anything to fight off the compliment. But this man showed you how to appreciate your body, to know your worth. Your eyes stayed on his as you gripped his cock, your lips wrapping around the thick pink tip.
"It'd be a shame if we didn't capture this moment. Don't you think?" He asked, turning around to reach for his camera on the coffee table.
You couldn't answer as your mouth was full, full of him. Your head lowered down further, taking in more of his cock. Your eyes closed in bliss and you heard his camera shutter, indicating a picture had been taken.
"Perfect. You wanna be famous don't you? Open your eyes for me Angel." Kishibe commanded softly.
Your eyelids fluttered open, staring into the lens. You heard the camera shutter as he flicked a photo of you, his eyes remaining locked with yours as if he knew the picture was perfect, so confident that it would be everything he wanted.
His cock reached the back of your throat, eliciting a gag from you. Kishibe set his camera down on the side table and watched as tears welled up in your eyes. You could hardly breathe, but that didn't matter. Not when you could taste his precum sliding down your throat. Spit dribbled out the sides of your mouth, collecting to slide down your neck in between your chest.
Kishibe groaned in pleasure. The feeling of your plush lips wrapped around him was better than he dreamed of. Each time you had photo shoots he pictured you on your knees for him like this.
"Fuck..." he whispered, gliding his hand through his hair.
You bobbed your head up and down on his cock, making obscene noises each time. You could feel your eyes roll to the back of your head at how sweet he tasted. Your hands held onto his muscular thighs tightly for support. Your tongue ran under the bottom of his shaft, one of your hands cupping his balls. Before you could get too overzealous, Kishibe pulled your head back. A string of spit and precum connected your puckered lips to his cock, the sight entirely too filthy.
"Calm down." He softly ordered.
You breathed heavily and nodded, running your tongue on the bottom of your lip, savoring each drop of salty precum.
Kishibe ran his rugged thumb over your cheek, appreciating the way your youthful skin smoothed under his finger. Kishibe nudged his head up, gesturing to the couch. You instantly understood and made your way over, head delirious with sex. You sat down carefully on the cushions, spreading your legs for him. Kishibe folded his long sleeves up, kneeling on the ground.
You were taken aback when he pushed your legs apart even further, hooking them up on his shoulders. Your eyes widened as his face dove in, tongue immediately searching for your core. A loud moan escaped your throat, your back arching off the back of the couch. You hadn't expected anything from him, you weren't used to men going down on you. You wondered if his age brought him experience.
You felt his tongue flick up and down over your lingerie, the thin fabric concealing hardly anything. You could feel most of it, but you craved to feel him directly on you. Whines rumbled from your chest, your hips gyrating from side to side.
"Show me how you touch yourself princess." Kishibe mumbled against your lingerie.
He pulled the fabric to the side, exposing your mound to him. It glistened in the low light of his apartment, the scent making his mouth water. Kishibe couldn't decide if he liked the smell of your perfume more, or your natural musk. Your cheeks flushed at the comment, unable to speak. Kishibe pulled your hand up and guided it to your core, resting your fingers on your swollen and needy clit. His job was always guiding you into pretty positions, and tonight was no different.
Your fingers slowly started rubbing your nub, the sensation going straight to your head. Kishibe looked up at you and licked a strip around your pussy, before diving it in your clenching hole. A strangled moan came out of you, your eyes losing focus. It felt like your senses were heightened, each time his tongue penetrated you, you could practically see stars. Your moans increased in volume, as your sin coated Kishibe's tongue.
You were beginning to get frustrated as time wore on, feeling the desperate need to let go and cum but not being able to. Kishibe picked up on your hints and pulled your fingers away from your clit. He looked up at you as he sucked them clean. You felt like you could cum from the sight alone. Kishibe maintained eye contact as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking slowly while two of his fingers stretched out your pussy. You moaned loud, fingers flying up to his hair. He chuckled and continued to lick your clit, feeling you get closer. You felt his fingers curl inside of you, coaxing your sweet spot. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came hard, seeing stars. While breathing heavily you felt the couch depress underneath something. Your eyes fluttered back to reality, seeing the older man above you. He tilted your head up and pressed his lips against yours, swiping his tongue against your lip.
"You should know how sweet you taste." He murmured, pulling apart from the kiss.
Your body felt weak as he propped you up on your hands and knees on the couch. You felt one of his feet crouch on the couch while the other stayed planted on the floor. His calloused fingers ran across your backside, making your skin shiver.
"Tell me if you need to stop." He spoke quietly, before spreading your cheeks.
You nodded slightly, already dazed out from cumming once. You felt his hard cock rub against your slit, lining up with your aching hole. Kishibe inched his way in your hole, plunging deep in you. His cock felt massive inside you, you weren't sure how much you could take. A whimper escaped your mouth as you felt him fill you up. Kishibe breathed out hard before his mouth formed to a straight line, focusing on pounding into you. His rough hands grabbed and pulled at your hips, sure to leave bruises for you in the morning. Groans left your lips as he dragged his length in you. He wasn't going fast, but he was going hard. Each time it felt like the wind was being knocked out of you in the most pleasurable way possible. You could feel your body jiggle with each movement. Your mouth dropped open slightly, but you were too fucked out to care. Kishibe gripped your hip with one hand while the other ran up to your shoulder, taking hold of you there.
"F-feels so good Kishibe, d-don't stop!" You moaned, your face contorting in pleasure.
Kishibe could feel you clench around him. It had been so long since he had someone your age, someone so eager to please.
You could hear his tiny groans behind you, the noise only riling you up more.
"Wanna see how pretty you look?" Kishibe grunted.
"Hm?" You voiced, dazed.
The arm holding your shoulder reached up and grabbed you by the hair. Not too roughly that it hurt, but enough to angle your to face the side.
A mirror. You hadn't noticed that when you first walked in. In it you could see Kishibe fucking you hard, your body thrusting forward with each thrust. Your eyebrows furrowed up as your core tightened more. You had never thought seeing yourself get railed would turn you on this much, but it did. Leave it to Kishibe to make you enjoy something like that.
"Yeah? Like how you look? Come on, tell me how pretty you are." Kishibe grunted.
Your arms trembled as you struggled to keep yourself up. You didn't know how much longer you would last. Not with the way he was filling you up, and the way he was talking.
"S-so pretty. I'm so pretty." You moaned, your body shaking.
"Yeah you are." Kishibe murmured, pounding into you.
He held your head by your hair while thrusting into you. You didn't even have time to warn him before you felt yourself come undone on his cock. A loud cry racked your body as you trembled.
"Fuck..." Kishibe mumbled to himself.
He decided he could die a happy man tomorrow. Nothing could be as sweet as you. Kishibe kept fucking you as you were coming down.
"Come here princess." He spoke, pulling out of you.
You felt him move your body till you were kneeling on the ground. It was all going by in a blur, your body still so sensitive.
Kishibe jerked his cock over your face while you looked up at him. He let out a loud groan as cum shot from his cock into your face, painting it white. You stuck your tongue out to try to get as much of it as you could in your mouth.
He moaned as he finished, his body shaking. With a sigh he reached over to the coffee table and grabbed his camera, lifting it up to his eye. Out of all the photos he took of you, he decided this was his favorite.
