What drives me absolutely INSANE about this scene isn't that Zuko caught Toph.
It's how ridiculously fast he reacted.
Okay, this might sound delusional, but hear me out.
Just a few seconds earlier, they were clearly fighting on two completely different fronts. Zuko was up on the rooftops while Toph was on the ground, and both of them were fully occupied with their own opponents (honestly, both looked pretty overwhelmed too).
Yet the instant Toph got blasted into the air, Zuko was already right behind her.
So what does that mean?
It means that even while fighting his own battle, Zuko was still keeping track of Toph. There's just no way he could've made it to her that fast if he'd only reacted after hearing the impact or turning around once he realized she was in danger. They were far enough apart that him just "happening" to be there at the perfect moment doesn't really make sense.
BRO.
To catch Toph mid-air, Zuko had to already know where she was, notice the exact moment she lost her footing, and abandon his own fight almost instantly.
And let's be real, he didn't just run over and catch her after she fell.
HE INTERCEPTED HER MID-AIR.
If Zuko had only noticed Toph falling, he would've run to where she was going to land.
Instead, he caught her while she was still airborne, which means he started moving before she'd even finished her trajectory. The timing alone tells you how closely he must've been tracking her.
What gets me even more is that it doesn't even feel like Zuko stopped to think, "Does Toph actually need my help?"
And that's saying something, because getting knocked around in the middle of a fight isn't exactly unusual, and Toph is probably one of the most experienced fighters on the battlefield.
Zuko didn't gamble on the possibility that she'd recover on her own. He didn't even seem to give himself time to consider it.
baby pink lace hangs out of the back pocket on leon’s jeans. it’s where all of your delicate panties end up once the sun begins to set and leon has dropped to his knees right in front of the couch. your inspection is like clockwork, just a part of your daily routine, and secretly, you think it’s leon’s favourite time of the day
“you gonna let me see her, sweetheart?” he mumbles when your thighs press firmly together and hide what he desperately wants to see. his hands slide up the backs of your thighs and settle into the crook of your bent knees but he doesn’t forcefully separate your legs, like he could do so easily, until you’re ready
the tone of his voice makes you whimper as you slump further into the crease between the couch cushions, causing your ankle to bump against leon’s jaw. he presses a soft kiss above the hem of your sock and watches as you nod in response to his question before you sink your teeth into your bottom lip
“words, use them,” leon orders, though his tone stays gentle. his fingertips squeeze your legs, dimpling into your skin as not only a reminder that he’s waiting but a tender reassurance that although he’s giving you instructions, he’s not mad that you forgot to give him a verbal answer, “need t’hear it, baby,”
“yes,” you whisper promptly but much to your dismay leon clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shakes his head. confusion knits across your forehead as he cocks his head to the side and raises an eyebrow at you and it takes a second but once you get it, your cheeks flush, “oh—yes, daddy,”
leon chuckles at the deepened shade of red that paints across your face, “good girl,” he drawls, knowing that it’ll only make you get hotter underneath the surface of your skin. he separates your thighs slowly and with ease, letting them fall apart while he leans forwards to drag his lips over your body
he starts at the side of your kneecap and works downwards, pressing soft kisses all the way down to your hip. a gasp catches in your throat as his warm breath fans over your bare pussy but he pays you no attention—not there at least—before he grazes his teeth over the inside of your other thigh
it’s not sharp or at all painful and yet, you jump and instinctively reach down to weave your fingers into his hair. leon knows what he’s doing and knows exactly how to rise a reaction out of you so when he pulls back to kneel between your thighs, he’s smirking something filthy and clearly very pleased with himself
his palms push against your thighs, shoving them all the way back until the upper part of your legs are flush against your ribcage—a position you weren’t aware that you could be put into until leon came into your life. with your thighs parted, your pussy spreads wide with a little slick sound that makes leon grunt
“fuck—there she is,” he groans fondly as his eyes flicker down to your core. his pupils blow wide and the blue of his eyes darkens with lust while his tongue darts between his lips. from your point of view, he looks like an animal admiring his prey, like he’s going to ruin you and swallow whole and knowing him, he just might
a whine erupts in your chest as you squirm under his gaze. you feel exposed, more than you ever have done before, but never once do you feel uncomfortable—leon always makes sure of it. his affinity for you and your body is one thing but his attraction to his inspections is another and it’s highly contagious
heat blooms throughout your cunt and it’s very closely followed by the tell-tale warmth of slick that pools inside of and then overflows from your clenching hole. you moan breathily as you feel it trickle down your skin and watch as leon’s eyes track it until it soaks into the couch cushions beneath your ass
“wet already—i haven’t even done anything yet,” leon hums a lie that causes you to wriggle. he has done something, he’s always doing something that has your cunt dripping with want. in fact, he could probably do nothing at all and you would still find yourself soaking—you’re just perpetually wet with him in your life
“have,” you correct him with a huff that’s petulant and annoying, though you can’t find it within yourself to care as your fingertips curl into the roots of his hair and tug. it’s a barely there pull and leon doesn’t really react to it but the second you do it, you regret it and know full well that you’ll pay for it later one way or another
however—for now—leon ignores your touch to give you his own. against the most outer parts of your pussy, leon’s thumbs stroke outwards, stretching you even wider for his viewing pleasure. his eyes focus on your clit for a moment while it throbs and then flit down to your hole before he starts to blow cool air over you
it breezes up and down the center of your cunt slowly and in a straight line that connects his two main points of interest. bumps scatter over your thighs as a shiver runs the length of your spine and makes your entire body shudder, which is strange because you’re practically sweating with anticipation
leon puffs even more cold air over you as he whistles low, “she’s real pretty, sweetheart,” he says, low and much too calm considering that his intense stare is directed right to where you’re clenching in a—so far, futile—attempt to entice him into doing something—anything
“yeah?” you breathe eagerly, indulging in his praise while actively searching for more. sometimes leon calls you greedy for it but the way it makes your brain fizzle with a pleasant sort of static is addictive. he knows just what to say and when to say it, knows exactly what you need to hear to keep you pliant and docile underneath him, so really, it’s all his fault that you want more
“yeah—prettiest little thing i’ve ever seen,” leon reiterates and before you have the chance to react, he dips forwards and wraps his lips around your clit in a sloppy—but fleeting—kiss. you hiss through gritted teeth as your thighs try to snap shut but leon is much faster than you
his extensive training works wonders for your sex life. he can predict when you’re going to move and can very easily prevent it before you’ve even managed to register that you're moving. his hands grab at your thighs, holding them in place against the couch, even as you writhe against him
“don’t you dare—keep them there,” he orders whilst digging his fingertips into you harshly enough to leave small dotted bruises that you’ll find for days to come. he jerks his head away from your touch afterwards, prompting your hands to fall out of his hair, “hold them open—now, angel,” he huffs
your whine gets ignored but you know better than to test his patience and so, your hands slide around your thighs and then slot into the backs of your bent knees—where leon’s hands were earlier—to do exactly as he says without a single complaint but definitely with a frown that’s very pointed
after a moment of silence, a test that you pass with flying colors, leon spreads your cunt wide again. his attention returns to your clit, that’s now covered in a glistening sheen of his spit, “bet she aches—huh—throbbing like that,” he purrs and ever so gently ghosts the pad of his thumb against you
the simple sensation it creates causes your body to tense up and then relax back into it just as quickly while you hum a sound that’s something vaguely agreeable. your jaw hangs open and your lashes flutter against your cheeks as you indulge in the back and forth sweep of his thumb but then, it stops abruptly
“words—i won’t tell you again,” leon warns
“yes—fuck—yes, it aches so bad,” you blurt out through a moan that must satisfy him at least a little bit because his thumb settles back over your clit and starts to rub in little circles. your back arches away from the couch and another wave of slick spills from your hole to add to the puddle that’s growing under you
“mhmm,” leon hums, laced with a faux type of contemplation that he often uses during his inspections, “that’s normal—especially since she’s so needy,” he mumbles under his breath and begins to take the circles wider and really draw them out whilst applying enough pressure to make your eyes roll back
pleasure seeps through your veins and burns at the tip of every nerve ending that your body contains. short gasps and whimpers fall from the tip of your tongue and echo in the space around you while leon’s fingertips press deeper and circle ever so slightly faster above your steadily pulsing hole
“she likes that,” leon observes when his eyes flicker down to see the evidence of your arousal, “what about this?” he murmurs as he takes your clit between his forefinger and thumb and pinches softly. a choked sob pulls from your throat and your thighs tremble against your palms—just more displays of your arousal for leon’s consideration, “good—and this?”
every day—every single day—leon carries out the exact same inspection meticulously. the same routine, the same tests, and still, when his palm strikes your clit in a tame slap, it makes you flinch. by now, you should’ve learnt to expect it—you should remember it—but you never do. it always catches you off guard
“fuck—oh my god,” you yelp as the spank stings your sensitive clit in the most satisfying way. your nails dig into the flesh of your thighs, creating half moon indents that’ll definitely hurt when your hand eventually shifts but you don’t care when leon soothes your twitching clit with a gentle kiss that makes you whine
tears flood your waterlines and blur your vision of the older man, “perfect—as usual,” he hums as the shadowed shape of him leans to one side. you can’t see him properly but you can still feel his touch while he lightly bites your calf muscle and then relieves it with a kiss, “let’s see what else my girl has f’me,”
leon’s thumb traces slowly downwards from your clit, eliciting your disgruntled whines over the loss of his touch against your demanding bundle of nerves. the presence of his thumb hovers over you and it’s dizzying to know that he’s so close but still not quite there. you could beg, could prove to him that you are greedy and insatiable but leon is already well aware
he circles your hole slowly, outlining the thin and sensitive skin that has pulled taut with how wide your thighs are still stretched. your eyes clench and squeeze a fresh wave of tears over your cheeks while the breath in your lungs expels itself in a wobbly half whimper and half sob
“she’s needy too?” leon coos, dripping with what anyone else would mistake for sympathy. it’s not that, it’s never that because it’s said with a smirk and a telling sparkle in his eyes. he’s loves watching you become ruined underneath him and as you do, you almost miss that he asked you a question
“oh god—yes,” you cry out as the slide of his thumb gets easy with the copious amount of slick that you have to offer. your pussy contracts with him that close to where you want him and slick coats his knuckles and fingertips, letting him inadvertently smear it across your thighs whilst his thumb orbits you
“god damn—pretty fuckin’ girl,” leon growls mostly to himself and whether he’s talking about you as a whole or just your cunt—you don’t know and you don’t care to ask, you whimper all the same anyway, “so messy and it’s all for me,” he groans and this time, he’s not asking, he’s stating—he knows it’s for him
still though, you answer, “all for you—always for you,”
“yeah—i know angel,” leon chuckles at you working yourself into a state, even though he’s the culprit of it all. both of his thumbs brush against your pussy and set your body alight as he uses them to hold your hole open and make it gape, “bet she tastes real fuckin’ sweet too,” he adds, although it’s not an afterthought, while he licks his lips. animal. prey.
you nod frantically. it’s all you can do as you fight the urge to let go of your thigh and pull him face first into your pussy with your fingers twisted deep into the roots of his hair. the mere thought of his tongue against you makes your hole weep and leon watches it happen as you watch cogs turn in his brain and then, he loses the battle he’s having within himself and dives in
he laps at your entrance like a—well, like an animal. it’s sloppy and messy, there’s no grace to any of it. he moans into you like he truly has just tasted the sweetest thing he has ever come across while your back curves and your fingertips struggle to find purchase against your thighs that so desperately want to clamp down around his head as he licks a stripe up to your clit
around his mouth and the prickly stubble that covers his jaw is shiny with your slick and you can see it pooling on his tongue where he’s gathered it up just before he spits it lazily over your clit and watches it drip back down to your hole, “knew it—she’s always so sweet f’me,” leon grunts
each word is accentuated with a lick and a peck to your clit that rages a wildfire around your spine and winds the coil in your stomach a little bit tighter. it’s like electricity zapping through your body but it’s still nowhere near enough to satisfy you and you’re too far gone to think any less of yourself for begging
“please—it hurts,” you sniffle pathetically as the space between your scalp and brain fills with cotton wool and clouds that refuse to let your thoughts make it to your mouth in one piece. leon appears to get it though, his eyebrow raises and one of his thumbs returns to slipping around your hole
“poor thing,” leon coos—no, teases—as he reverses the motion he’s doing to go the other way, “where does it hurt—can you tell me?” he asks and reaches up to swipe tears from your cheek with a knuckle on his freehand, “does it hurt here?” he questions, pressing the pad of his thumb deeper into your rim
your head shakes and your breath hitches. whilst what he's doing feels incredible, it’s not where the ache is beginning to tighten and pull at your muscles, “ah—okay—maybe here then,” leon murmurs and before your brain can work out what he said, his thumb pushes past your entrance and slides into your heat
you make a noise—a moan, a yelp, a sob, any guess is as good as yours—over the sudden intrusion. there’s no familiar stretch and he’s still far away from the ache but it’s something, “deeper, i need—please go deeper,” you sob as leon shallowly thrusts his thumb into you, barely pulling out and barely going any further
“ungrateful,” leon sighs and snatches his hand back, making his thumb slip free of your body with a wet pop. you want to wail and thrash as he takes the feeling that was dulling the ache with him but you can’t whilst you try your hardest to keep hold of your legs and keep air steadily filtering into your lungs
“no—no, i’m just—daddy,” you stumble over your words and blink rapidly to clear your vision to be able to see him properly. your eyes burn and your cheeks are starting to get sore and you’re at the end of your tether with his teasing, “please—daddy—it hurts, need you to fix it, ple—”
your desperate ramble gets cut off and morphs into a strained mewl while your heartbeat pounds against your eardrums as two of leon’s thick fingers slide into your cunt with no preamble. you clench around him on instinct, trying to trap him there and suck him deeper—even though you can feel his knuckles against you
the stretch that you so badly missed earlier comes now in an all consuming ignition that makes your eyes pinch shut and your lips form into a silent—oh. when your eyes eventually open, you jerk in surprise because leon is standing above you, hovering with his free hand clutching the back of the couch and his knees pressing into the backs of your thighs, nudging your hands away roughly
“this what you wanted—did i find the ache, sweet girl?” he growls while your hands yank at his shirt to pull him lower over you. his fingertips curl deep inside of you to find that soft spot that only he can reach and can treat so well and when he finds it, he strokes against it—hard, “go on, answer me,”
wholeheartedly—you’d love to but you can’t. your jaw hangs and your eyebrows furrow as the air gets punched out of your lungs with every drag of his fingers. you can feel him in your stomach, up in your chest and everywhere else as you blink up at him and shake with your sobs—you’re ruined and it makes leon grin
breathy moans make your chest heave as the room around you fills with the sound of your sloppy cunt accommodating leon’s fingers as they start to plunge in and out of your pussy. with every thrust, he nails his fingertips against the ache that’s dull and bruising but so—so—good that all you can do is turn into a whimpering, whining mess underneath him
“oh—i know,” leon purrs when your eyes search his, “look how well she’s taking me angel, s’like she was made just for me,” he drawls with a voice that’s like honey while he lets you pull him even closer until the tips of your noses bump together, “perfect fuckin’ cunt on a perfect fuckin’ girl—fuck,”
leon tilts his head before he’s finished talking and crushes his mouth against yours, causing his last word to muffle somewhere in between you and him as he gives you a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth. it’s not supposed to be a good kiss—far from it in fact. it’s raw and instinctual. an animal and his prey.
your chin tips up to chase him into it as he laps over your bottom lip and then licks messily over the underside of your tongue before he pulls back and puts just inches of space between you, “stick it out—shit—yeah, just like that,” leon huffs when your tongue lolls out so that he can spit into your mouth
he tastes like you. he tastes like your slick and your arousal and you didn’t realise it when he was kissing you but you realise it now as your head tips back and you moan wantonly. molasses replaces your veins, making your limbs heavy and your eyelids pull down until they’re closer to being shut than open but all you care to see is leon above you and that’s enough
a gasp catches in your throat as his thumb sweeps over your clit in time with the unrelenting thrust of his fingers. the pace he’s set it unlike any other and if you use every bit of focus that you have left, you can see the veins in his arms popping and protruding from his tanned skin—it makes your mouth water
“m’gonna need you to come, sweetheart,” leon pants as his eyes flicker down to the bulge in his jeans. he’s rock hard and straining against the denim but he never touches himself until he’s made you come—at least—once, “gotta make sure she can still take it—yeah?” he asks, though you know it’s not up for debate
leon’s patience is thinning to a place where it’ll be beyond repair and truthfully, so is yours. his ask isn’t a big one, not when you consider the fact that every curl of his fingertips, every thrust of his fingers, every filthy wet sound that follows them, is hurtling you towards the edge of your orgasm
he knows that though. he can feel the clench of your pussy and how your heartbeat thrums through it. he can feel your clit throb and twitch underneath the pad of his thumb and if that wasn’t enough, he can see your half lidded eyes and hear your moans as they come in quicker succession than they did before
there’s something else though. something deep inside of you that has been building patiently through all of his touches. it’s a hot pit that pushes back against his fingertips as he seats them ever so deep inside of you and furiously makes a—come here—motion which pushes you right to the edge and almost shoves you right off of it
your eyes blow wide and you scramble to sink your hands into the couch cushions to push the top half of your body up. the new position puts leon’s fingers at a slightly different angle, one that feels better than anything else you’ve ever felt and one that has you choking on a gasp that doesn’t let you get your words out
“there it is—come sweetheart,” leon groans to finish you off. his words are distant as you willingly jump from the edge and tip your forehead against his chin. searing white flashes behind your eyelids and your eardrums thump while your cunt spasms around his fingers that don’t stop pressing upwards
whatever he’s recklessly searching for, he must find with the flood of warmth that gushes from your pussy, “there—just like that—‘atta girl,” leon murmurs into your hair, still distant, as you keen and cry out but leon doesn’t stop even then and when your eyes flutter open with a struggle, you see exactly why
the front of his jeans is soaked and the denim is stained darker from the seemingly never ending stream that he’s prying from your body like his life depends on it. your orgasm is starting to wane and overstimulation is lingering and waiting to pounce but you can’t stop, now now and not when leon growls
“more—more—keep going,” he orders and your body begins to vibrate. you clamp down around him like a vice as your whimpers become nothing but a scratch in the back of your throat. it could be seconds, minutes or even hours of him wringing you dry but eventually, you have nothing left to give and finally, it ends, “good girl—did so fucking good,” leon whispers
your body sags back into the couch with a thud and your thighs don’t even have the strength left to pull together, leaving your swollen cunt on display for leon while he carefully withdraws his soaking wet fingers. your body is a live wire but your brain has long since switched off and everything feels right, it feels good. even when leon slaps your pussy and utters,
“now—let’s see if she can do that around my cock,”
thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah ily! send prompts to my ask box!
This summer I've been so bored that I've gone crazy with fantasies.
I'm quite a spiritual person. Actually, I tend to judge people's personalities by their appearance and words. During a free moment, I tried to create a horoscope for Leon :))) He's almost my ideal boyfriend, and I wanted to check his horoscope to see if it matched my taste when I met a guy. I really hoped I'd have a boyfriend with a personality like his ;;-;; Who wouldn't like someone gentle and polite? I have a little knowledge of astrology, Bazi (Chinese astrology), and some other miscellaneous things :))) I don't know the birth time or place, but I tried setting it to America and the birth time at night. Honestly, asking someone about their birth time, even in real life, is quite rare; it's a difficult and sensitive topic :)))
I tried setting birth time to nighttime and a location in the US that I had to find on Google :)))
Oh my gosh, you know what? This birth chart is super softie! :))))))) Even though the birth time and place might be wrong, this chart really shows the perfect boyfriend type. I was quite surprised when I saw it. Even though I randomly guessed the birth place and time, I think it's about 60-70% accurate in terms of his personality. Honestly, I don't know how to describe it, but he's like the person I cast on my birth chart… kind of… um… in terms of his personality.
Okay, this is pretty silly and I look like a crazy person fantasizing about a non-existent character :) AND THAT'S THE TRUTH :)))))))
It's actually quite funny to imagine me going on a date with some guy and instead of asking about his job, his family, or his life philosophy, I'd be saying,
"Could you tell me your date of birth, year of birth, and time of birth?"
I honestly thought how great it would be if I met a guy just like him :))
You've always been good at letting the comments about your relationship roll off your back, but some days you're stronger than others, and when you overhear your coworkers making nasty comments about your husband, it sticks with you.
based on this request
taglist: @cakeofhorrors @rainyxie@venus-in-roses
It happens more often than you’d like. Entitled people commenting on your relationship, sharing their unsolicited opinions, emboldened by a deceptive voice in their heads that tells them you want to hear what they have to say.
Typically, you’re able to brush it off. Yeah, Leon’s older than you–much older–and he warned you of what people would think when they saw you together, whether it be at the grocery store while the two of you shopped for produce, checking the mail together when a nosy neighbor had nothing better to do, wearing him on your arm at a work event. You didn’t care–and you still don’t, to an extent–you just wanted to be with him, come hell or high water. And having him by your side was well worth it.
Being with an older man was like nothing you had experienced before when you would date men your own age. You weren’t some proxy mother that had to teach him how to load the dishwasher or separate the whites from the colors so as not to stain all your t-shirts. You didn’t have to pretend to finish every time he padded at your inner thigh, thinking it was turning you on. No fake orgasms, no hoping he actually scrubbed his feet in the shower (and not just let the shampoo from his head trickle down to miraculously clean them), no second-guessing his affection.
And you didn’t have to wait, there was no chasing after him, sitting by the phone in hopes that he would text or call. The two of you dated for less than a year before moving in together and committing with matching rings and a signed certificate, and though you swore you’d never be one of those girls who jumped into marriage without knowing the guy for at least two laps around the sun, there was something so special about Leon that you felt it almost immediately. He was the one and only man for you. And you, the only one for him.
He was plagued, however, with the typical anxieties that come with being with someone so much younger than he. He was afraid he would hold you back from experiencing whatever it is twenty-something kids like you get up to these days. And he knew what other people would think, and some chivalrous (call it traditional) part of him didn’t want to tarnish your reputation. But you wouldn’t let him slip away. You doubled-down, adamant that he was who you wanted to be with, no matter the difference in age, the judgmental gazes of onlookers.
Nothing could shake you, especially not the comments.
Except for today.
At work, before you rounded the corner to the break room, you overheard two of your coworkers conversing in hushed tones, one dropping your name, the other giggling. You listen for a few moments as they talk about your relationship with Leon, the man you have depicted in several photographs on your desk, the man you brought to the holiday party last week and introduced to your coworkers for the first time. Everyone seemed to flock to him as soon as he walked in, a magnet to men and women alike.
“He’s so much older than she is.” It’s Shelby. She’s always had a mean-girl edge to her, one you sniffed out as soon as you began working for the company. “Like thirty years, give or take.”
“What do they even have in common,” the second voice says, the flinty tone easily recognizable as belonging to the receptionist, Trisha.
“I don’t know. It just always gives me the creeps when an old man goes after a younger girl like that. It’s like they’re trying to live out some father-daughter fantasy or something.”
“Gross.”
“Exactly.”
You carried around a pit in your stomach for the rest of the day. It gurgled throughout dinner, running your appetite into the ground, and shook with the rock of the car as Leon drove the two of you home from the restaurant.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on or do I have to read your mind?” He asks, coming up behind you, meeting the reflection of your eyes in the mirror, his hands taking over your trembling fingers as they attempted to unlatch your necklace. After a long day at work, your muscles are tired, your brain fried and in need of eight uninterrupted hours of shut-eye.
“It’s nothing.”
Setting the chain down, he thins his eyes, bottom lip held hostage by his top teeth. “I don’t think so.” His hands wrap around your waist as he steps forward to rest his chin on your shoulder, inhaling the sweet scent of your hair. “Talk to me.” He plans a light kiss on your earlobe, one at your temple.
“Really, Leon,” you say, shirking away from his grasp. He stays standing by the dresser, lost and confused, as you make your way to the bed, eager to hide beneath the covers and forget that today even happened. “It’s nothing.”
“I don’t believe that.”
He lowers himself onto the mattress beside your legs, taking your chin in his hand. His eyes, glassy with concern, stare you down, compelling you to speak.
“Something’s going on with you, and I’d like to know what it is.”
“So you can fix it?”
Leon cocks his head to the side, eyes cutting back and forth, testing the idea. “I’d like to. But I can’t do anything until you tell me what’s going on.”
You swallow hard, still debating whether or not it’s worth repeating. It does bother you, and though you’d love to choke it down and not let something so silly get under your skin, you know it always feels better to let it out, especially with Leon. He has a magic way of healing your every worry and woe.
“Just some coworkers talking shit, that’s all.”
Even the memory makes you cringe.
“Ah,” he says, sitting up straight, stretching his spine. “About?”
“You. And me.”
“Right.” He stands up, knees popping, to finish undressing. You watch as he unbuttons his crisp white shirt, revealing his statuesque torso, the lines and ridges of his abdomen, the sheer strength of his shoulders. If only they could see him now, they wouldn’t be calling him “old” or “gross”. You smile smugly at the thought.
“What were they saying?”
Taking in a deep, cleansing inhale, you let your wind wander back to the conversation, not wanting to repeat a single word.
“That our age gap is weird.”
He rolls his eyes, making work of his belt buckle, the fly of his slacks. “Heard that one before.”
“That you’re just with me to fulfill some twisted fantasy.” Your voice cracks as you whisper the disgusting details.
His hands stall at his unzipped fly and he scoffs. “Well, that’s new.”
“Yeah.” You smooth the comforter across your lap, reclining against the headboard. “I don’t know why it bothers me so much. I guess I just hate that they think that about us.”
After pulling on a pair of his favorite pajama pants, he joins you under the covers, pulling your body tight to him, your back flush to his bare chest.
“You don’t have to worry about what other people think, you know that.”
It’s not a question. You’re ferociously strong, independent, marching to the beat of your own drum.
“I know.”
You flip over to face him, cupping his cheek, drinking in the lines between his brows, the faint creases at the corners of his eyes, the strands of snow at his temples.
“It just hurts to hear people say things like that about you.”
Because he’s not some predator. He’s your Leon, the most honorable, upstanding man you’ve ever met. He’s the definition of a gentleman, respectful and attentive. Never did he cross a boundary. Never did he try to coerce you into doing anything you didn’t want. Not like the other man you had been with before–always testing your limits, never respecting your word.
Perhaps if you had introduced your past beaus to Shelby and Trisha, they’d see how lucky you are to have a man like Leon in your life.
The corner of his mouth lifts into a half-smile. “That’s sweet, baby, but you don’t have to get yourself worked up over me. I can handle myself.”
You know he can. But you wish he didn’t have to. “Will you come to the office tomorrow and beat them up for me?”
“Hey,” he warns lowly, clicking his tongue. “That’s not how we get what we want.”
“Sorry.”
Though you’re pretty sure that’s exactly what men in his line of work do to meet their goals.
Leon takes in a breath and smirks. “There’s always another way.”
And right he was. The next morning, three ginormous bouquets of your favorite flower arrived at work. Special instructions dictated that they be delivered by hand to the front desk. Trish had to enlist the help of another coworker to bring them into your office, walking the spectacle of petals right past Shelby’s cubicle.
You haven’t heard a word about Leon or your relationship since.
(one day, I'm gonna remember to put the taglist in BEFORE I publish)
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks into your mouth, mid-kiss, although he can read your mind. Perhaps he’s reading your body language instead, the way your shoulders tense, your lungs expanding to full volume, how your fingers tremble as you unbutton his shirt. But none of those physical manifestations of anxiety can eclipse the pure, unadulterated need in your stomach, far beyond the innocent flutters of butterfly wings at first blush. This feeling–the flame across your cheeks, the throb between your legs–it’s something utterly sinful. There’s nothing sweet about it.
“I’m sure, Leon,” you say, the words carried from your throat on the back of a hitched breath. How unconvincing.
Then, to make things worse, you pull back. Why did you pull back?
“Everything alright?” He asks, already high off the taste of your mouth, forcing himself from his euphoria to check in with you, though there’s nothing he wants more in this moment than to rip the cloth from your body and ravish everything that was beneath it.
You swallow hard, a nest of fear and guilt caught in your throat, scratching the gummy sides of your esophagus on the way down. “Don’t freak out, okay?”
Leon can’t help but let his eyes go wide. His mind travels to dark places in the beat of silence between you. “What is it?”
Maybe you don’t tell him. You still have time. Act coy and coquettish, write your hesitation off as flirtation when he asks why you pulled away. Still, looking into his eyes, all large and fawn-like, and filled to the brim with such care you’d be an ass to keep anything from someone so understanding and willing to listen, especially something as important as this. He deserves to know, like he deserves to have all of you.
“I’ve never done this before. Ever.”
His brows furrow. “What?” Then, as if you can see the cogs turning through a window in his forehead, you watch him put the pieces together, nodding at his conclusion. “Sex?”
“Mhm.” You cut your eyes, unable to meet his. “Sorry.” The apology quickly slips from your lips, a formality you’ve taken upon yourself more than bending under the pressure. It’s not as though you’re embarrassed or ashamed, but it seems like something to say at the moment.
“Hey, look at me. No need to apologize,” he promises, crooking a finger under your chin to direct your gaze back to him.
“I haven’t scared you off?”
“Honey,” he says with a laugh as if you just told him the sky is green. “It takes a lot more than that to scare me.” And you know he’s not lying. “But–”
“You don’t want it?”
The tension in his brows melts, and he tilts his head as though personally offended by your assumption. “That’s not true, and you know it.” He grabs your face in his hands, dipping his chin to give you a sweet peck on the forehead. “I just want to make sure it’s something you want. Is it?”
You nod against his lips, then he pulls away, a smirk at the corner of his mouth.
“Can I hear you answer in that pretty voice of yours?”
“Yes. Yes, Leon, I want it.”
He smiles with a little bit of tooth. “Good.”
“Deep breath. Come on, deep breath.”
You inhale, pushing your lungs to their full capacity, savoring the scent of Leon’s skin: musk and clove, black pepper, and that specific smell attached to men who don’t try too hard to smell good but it seems to be embedded in their DNA.
“That’s it. One more time. Just relax.”
Another inhale. This time, you feel your hips melt a little further into the mattress, your head dizzying as though you took a hit of a joint or sipped on a glass of wine. A good, deep breath is a drug in and of its own.
“There you go,” he coos, pumping himself in his fist. You try not to look, already intimidated by the sheer size of him. Not too thick but, boy, is he long. And pretty. With a pink head, already weeping with a bead of anticipation, and a few sprawling veins that crawl up and down the length. “Don’t be scared. It’s okay. I’m here.”
He could make you kill a man if he asked you in that voice.
From above, his eyes are affixed to yours as he awaits your signal. “You ready?”
You nod. “Yes. Please.” Parting your legs just a bit more to accommodate the width of his hips between them, you allow the head to glide up and down your pussy, waiting teasingly at your seam.
He chuckles lightly at your plea, manually lining himself up with your hole, already sopping wet from the work of his tongue. Then, he enters you. One inch at a time until he’s half-way there, another promise. The stretch is something you could never imagine on your own without experiencing it once or twice. It burns. Like that time when you were a kid and fell off your bike, knees scratched and gouged. And it stings.
You hiss through gritted teeth, immediately regretting it once Leon’s hips stop moving, and he’s caught, half-way inside.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath, looking down at you. Strands of icy blonde hair hang down like curtains, the tips tickling your forehead. “You okay?”
Biting down on your lower lip, you nod. “Yes, keep going.”
He doesn’t. One hand comes to cup your cheek, the other smoothing your hair down the side of your head, his weight still resting on his elbows, dug into the mattress top. “If you want to stop, just tell me, okay?” He would really hate that, though. You’re so tight around him, squeezing his cock to the point he’s unsure if it’d let him go. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
Leon plunges the fullness of his length inside you, causing you to cry out like a wounded animal on the forest floor, or a future piece of roadkill on the side of the highway.
“You’re doing such a good job. Keep breathing for me. Just relax.”
He goes slow at first, warming you up, waiting for the signals that your pain has melted into pleasure. Once he hears your cries turn into gasping moans, he picks up the pace, hips slapping against your pelvic bone, the sloppy, wet sound like a cheer from the sidelines of a race.
“That’s it,” he coos in your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck. “You’re taking me so good.” The praise is punctuated by a whimper of his own. “Doin’ so good for me, baby.”
You dig your fingernails into the meat of his shoulders, tethering yourself to him, sure the movement could saw you into the mattress if you didn’t hold on to something. His chest begins to beat against yours, his heart thumping through his pec, the beat matching the rhythm of his thrusts
“You feel me stretching you? That feels good, huh?”
Not sure what to say, worried you’ll make a joke or something just as stupid, you nod quietly, drinking in the sounds of his pleasure, each moan and yelp from him adding to your own. It does feel good. Not quite the screaming, crying type of ‘feels good’, the kind of euphoric pleasure he inflicts on you when he eats you out, but it has the potential to be.
He tries so hard to elongate the act–it’s your first time after all. That’s the least he could do.
But that all too familiar tension grows in his abdomen, the muscles there contracting and releasing at an erratic pace, and his cock begins to throb as he continues plowing into your pussy. Your pretty, wet pussy–fuck–he’s gone.
Not even two whole minutes and he’s already finishing inside you, seizing and thrashing as he releases his pleasure. For a man who wasn’t, at all, inexperienced, one would think it was his first time.
note: Hi! this is my third official post, crazy stuff. Thanks so much for all the support, I didn't think my trash was any good 😭 Btw, I hope you enjoy this too. English isn't my first language, so sorry if there's a mistake. 💕
tags: smut, comfort, insecurities, Leon is so cute, Leon x fem! reader, doggy style, orgasms and more!
Leon loves you madly. He really does. So every time you ask that question, "Do you love me?" he answers honestly, just because he can't tear his heart out and give it to you.
This man is capable of lowering the moon if you ask him to, he would do anything for you. He is honest, he doesn't lie. He wakes you up with soft kisses, on his days off he hugs you as if you were the only thing that keeps him grounded. You are everything to him.
And it's not that you doubt him, but different situations in your past led you to be insecure, to a sour whirlpool forming inside you about it. About him. Even now, when he's balls-deep inside you.
"Leon, Leon-" You murmured between ragged gasps, feeling his chest pressing hard against your back holding you in place. Taking every thrust he gave you. "Do you love me-?" And that feeling inside you came again. You felt like crying. Maybe from the pleasure, or maybe from the overwhelming sensations.
For a moment you think he doesn't hear you because of his current state. Heavy breathing, eyes tightly closed, body sweaty and his mind blank every time he sinks down to touch that spongy spot inside you.
But he wouldn't miss a hair of yours.
"I love you, I do, dear.... More than anything." He affirmed again, because he would repeat it to you every time you want. And the question sounds unreal in his fucked up head, of course he loves you. You're the only person he can open up to, show that young man who died inside him in 1998. He even took the audacity to have hopes, dreams again. Because next to you nothing seemed impossible.
"I love you, I love you." He murmured in your ear along with the low moans he couldn't contain, not when your walls were sucking him in so good. And I'd be lying if I said not now he's the one who wants to cry. He'd kiss every part of your body, kiss you all over until he could make you forget everything. Just like he does when he's with you.
His hips try to keep his deep rhythm, while his arms search for a way to embrace you to keep him grounded. Your ass is smacked by his pelvis every time he plunges in, over and over again with ambition. The wet sound of your wet pussy is the complete opposite of the cute words coming from Leon's lips.
"You're the only one for me, you're everything to me...Oh, G-God-" Now he started to ramble, trying to get his whole cock inside you until he can fuck your brains out and make you forget.
"Fuck, I love you, baby-!" His voice was already shaking, but I didn't know if it was from the effort of pushing you or the effort not to cry over you like a fucking baby.
"C-Come on, say you love me too." His voice tried to sound demanding, but it sounded like a plea. A desperate plea to know that you loved him too, because he wanted to be loved. He needed it.
"I love you, Leon. I-I love you, I love you so much." You said obediently, your voice coming out choked from having your face buried in the sheets. Your hair was disheveled, little beads of sweat trickling down your back and trembling thighs trying to support your weight. And little tears began to fill the corners of your eyes.
Maybe he had already fucked your brains out.
And Leon's chest tightened, pushing his lips carelessly into your hot cheeks. He was always so sweet even when he was fucking you like you were a slut. His cock bullying your bruised pussy again and again, because he couldn't catch a break. You were the air he needed to feel alive.
You made him feel alive.
As alive as he was now, as his hips began to quiver and his thrusts became sloppy, feeling his cock contracting tightly inside your walls. He could lose his mind right now for you.
His fingers moved down to play with your painfully throbbing clit, you let out a high pitched moan and your walls tightened feeling the familiar euphoria explode inside you, your orgasm coming in a sloppy way. Your body immediately relaxed into the sheets, trying to recover, but Leon wouldn't slow down, not when he was so close too.
He released your clit to run a sticky hand up to one of your tits, kneading it as if it were his own anti-stress toy. He carelessly kissed your wet cheeks and his hips pushed all the way in, releasing all his seed inside you. His cock contracted and discounted with spasms, giving you all of him.
"I love you." He whispered weakly, hugging you and trying not to fall on top of you. His heart beating fast in his chest, beating for you.
Because Leon Scott Kennedy loves you more than anyone. And he would devote every day of the rest of his life to prove it to you, if you let him.
were there too many "I love you"s? haha, sorry! But I can't help but think that Leon really needs a lot of love.
Synopsis: Another bad night for your man, but you know how to comfort him!
Tags: RE6!Leon x F!Reader, established relationship, smut, unprotected sex (don't do this, take care 🙏🏻), creampie, riding, pathetic men, whiny and crybaby Leon, mentions of dependence and post-traumatic stress, some angst, comfort and more!
Note: Hi!! I finally had time to finish this request from a while ago. It just wouldn't leave my head 😩 we don't talk about RE6!Leon enough, and I really need it. Pleasee ignore any mistakes and enjoy!💕💕
When you met Leon, years ago, you knew you were dealing with someone complex. You could see it in his eyes, which always concealed the seemingly endless pain in his life. When things escalated and the relationship became official, you came to know his wounds more deeply. The nightmares in the middle of the night, the cold sweat that trickled down his forehead when he remembered too much, or how there were times when all he wanted was to be with you.
You were the only thing that kept him sane. The only thing that kept him grounded. He felt guilty for wanting to merge his body with yours, for clinging to you until his last days. Could you blame him? He loved you like he'd never loved anyone or anything. The way you always took care of him when he was too depressed to get out of bed, how you washed his hair so gently, and above all, how you let him sink into you until he couldn't think of anything bad.
Tonight was one of those nights where dark thoughts clouded his judgment, and he couldn't stop the tears fall down for his face. His arms were tightly around you, his face buried between your tits as if letting go would mean the end of his life. Small, husky moans danced against your skin, muffling the occasional sob from Leon.
"You okay, baby?" you asked, trying to keep your tone sweet despite his length being buried deep inside you. You could practically feel his cock brushing against that delicious spot inside you with every movement you made on top of him.
All you got was a small nod, or maybe he was just rubbing his face against your chest like a big, old dog looking for love. He was a mess of tears and saliva, letting out long sighs of pleasure as he felt you ride him up and down, soaking him from base to tip. You went all the way down, until his swollen balls bumped against your entrance, then back up again, leaving only the dripping tip of his cock inside.
Your fingers brushed against his sweat-damp hair, pulling him close to your chest as you rode him slowly. His trembling hands roamed your back adoringly, drawing you closer with the need for there to be not an inch of distance between you. Your lips sought his, pouring all your feelings onto his trembling lips. He looked so fragile, panting into your mouth, his brows furrowed with pleasure and the need to silence the voices in his head.
"I love you, don't leave me..." He whispered, breathless. "Please, I love you so much, baby." Repeating his words with painful sincerity, he held you tighter, letting you bounce faster on him. His brain was completely melting, and long-forgotten tears slid down his rosy cheeks. He knew it was pathetic, but he couldn't help begging for more, pleading for you shamelessly.
His moans grew louder, more shaky, as his cock trembled inside your wet walls, making a loud, obscene squelching sound that echoed throughout the room. You were no better, the friction of your throbbing clit against his pelvis, lightly covered by pubic hair that created a path to his member, was driving you absolutely wild. That, and his wet, desperate kisses on your neck, were bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
"Look at me, please..." he begged, pulling you out of your trance. He knew you were close by the way your hot walls gripped him and the way your breathing became more frantic. "I want to see you—" he murmured, his voice hoarse with adrenaline. You opened your eyes, finding yourself confronted by a sight: his wet eyelashes fluttered quickly, his unfocused eyes showing only pure longing, and his jaw slack with pleasure. He was close too, just wanting to feel you come around his eager cock.
His hands released your hips to cup your hot face, his sweaty forehead pressed against yours to maintain eye contact. He was too busy admiring your beauty and how you crumbled around him.
Your body couldn't take it anymore, coming around his cock completely, soaking you both. Your eyes rolled back for a few seconds, feeling your walls tighten around him with spasms of pleasure. The thrusts were now slightly more frantic, wetter, helping you ride the waves of orgasm.
Leon's hips trembled helplessly beneath you, pulling your face closer to try and kiss you one last time before he came. But all he could do was groan against your mouth, breathing heavily as thick strands of hot, thick semen exploded inside you, making him forget even his own name for a second.
You moaned shakily as you felt him tremble inside you, emptying himself completely into your rubbery, sensitive walls. Your hips rubbed lazily against his, both of you panting into each other's mouths, still dazed from having come so hard. His semen, mixed with your release, began to seep from your pussy, dripping down base until it dripped onto his balls.
You leaned against his chest, and he hugged you, burying his nose in your tangled hair. His heart still pounded, trying to gather his thoughts.
"Thanks for...all." he murmured, his voice filled with the relief of being here with you. In your arms, he wasn't a tool, not an agent, he was just a man determined to love.
You were the cause of his happiness, his little paradise on earth, and he had no problem admitting it.
omg, i loove pathetic men, yummy 😋 and im so sorry I haven't been able to update often, im in the final stretch of my finals!! So i hope everyone is doing well and taking care ❤️🩹
It's July 11th, almost a month after my important 12th grade exams. What have I accomplished yet??? Nothing. I went back study right after a week off. But I definitely haven't started exercising to lose weight yet :)). I'm too lazy. I told my best friend so many times back when we were studying for the 12th grade exams that after the break I would lose weight, work on my waist, etc., and now my waist is still 62cm :)).
All I've done since the exams is probably just play and study :))) and go to the beach.
And right after finishing my 12th grade exams, just two days later I bought my two turtles a new tank. Even though it was quite expensive and not even really a turtle tank, I thought my turtles would be fine with it :)) They're still chubby and healthy.
Honestly, I can't believe I'm about to enter university. Time really flew by :))) I still feel like I'm in the middle of my exam preparation period. Although those days were really tough and stressful, they also reminded me of the friends I'd been with throughout high school. Even though I wasn't the most talkative in class, I was lucky to have a good group of friends.
We're still texting each other to fill out university application forms or look at which universities we'll attend. I hope we'll end up studying together or at least keep in touch.
I really miss them. I miss the days we studied together and used every 10-minute break to talk to each other.
It was really great that on our last day of school, we still stayed at school and took commemorative photos together :)))
I don't know why, but my drawing skills seem to have declined after a long time without drawing. Actually, I think I've started drawing again, but the frequency has decreased due to studying. Perhaps now that I'm busier and don't have as much time to draw as before, I'll reduce the frequency of my drawing or stop drawing altogether.
I've also been studying Japanese for over a month. Two weeks after my break following my high school exams, I really wanted to learn German. But there are very few universities in my country that offer German courses, and if there are, they're very expensive and far away. So I had to learn Japanese. I don't really like Japanese, but for work and to earn a high salary, I need another language to learn. I wasn't good at English, so now I have to learn Japanese. It's really difficult and has three alphabets ;-;;. Maybe my dream of driving around Munich will have to be put on hold so I can learn Japanese :)). Hopefully, in the future, thanks to Japanese, I can travel and work in many countries and meet a guy. jkasfaslfnhalkdsn awwww I really like German guys. I like their culture of splitting the bill on dates. Anyway, I'm pretty fair when it comes to money :))
I am a senior now. I am really worried about my future, while my friends have already decided on their university and future career, I… don't know what to do. I am not good at anything. All my subjects are average. It is really awkward when neighbors and relatives ask about my study and work orientation. I always avoid it, I really don't know what school I will go to, what career I will have. I feel like I have lost my purpose, and after finishing my senior year, what will I do? How will I live? What career will I have? Which school will I go to?… and so many more things. Everything is so vague. I was so poor that I looked to all forms of spirituality, numerology, cosmology, fortune telling or anything that would tell me what I wanted, what I would do in the future and how I would live. I don't know how bleak my future will be, I have no talent, I'm not good at anything, I've always done everything according to other people's arrangements like a chess piece, I don't like or hate it. They simply create goals and require me to achieve them and I just do it. I always think about my future, think about an uncertain future when tomorrow morning is no longer going to school with boring lessons… but going to work, a job that I don't even know. And then I just go to work, the only purpose I can think of is money. I'm very scared of breaking out of the familiar school loop. What will I do then?
Hello past self. I'm back after that stressful period. Now that it's over, today is June 22nd, 2026, and 1:58 PM. I've had 10 days off since finishing my exams. Even though it was only the 11th and 12th, it was incredibly stressful. In fact, I went to temples and made offerings to animals for months before the exams, even going the day before. I also asked my family to write down my name, exam location, and exam number so my ancestors could bless me for this important exam. My family members were very caring and checked on me after each exam, saying that no matter the results, I had done my best. They didn't put too much pressure on me about the scores and didn't mention the exam too much, which helped me not to stress. My homeroom teacher also encouraged the whole class after each exam. The whole class went out to celebrate for two days afterward, and then on the afternoon of the 12th, we had one last celebratory dinner. I didn't go because I was upset that my turtle was missing (it had crawled off somewhere I didn't know). My whole family went looking for it so I could focus on my last two tests on the 12th. Luckily, my grandfather found it in a bag right above my head that day; it must have crawled in there. It was a relief, otherwise I would have cried all summer. My teacher tried to convince me to go to the party, but I refused because my turtle was missing. Then, just 10 minutes later, my mom brought the turtle up. It had been found :))). I tried my best, even though my math score was higher than my English score :))). Now, I'm researching universities and waiting for the results. The results will be on July 1st, about 9 days from now. That's really worrying. Currently, I'm applying to Linguistics, Pharmacy, Logistics, etc. That's my current plan. I hope everything goes well. Right now, my group of friends has a high chance of getting into the same university because our scores are almost the same. This year's exam was really difficult, plus the number of retakes. The competition was fierce. But I tried my best even though my History and English scores were lower than usual. Anyway, the exam is over, and my life is about to turn a new page, meeting new friends, going to a new school, and exciting things await me.
Thank you to my past self for trying until the very last moment.
My last day of high school was fun, even though it was very hot :))) Anyway, it's June already.
Have fun! I hope we will continue to work hard together at university.
The turtles helped me get through two tough days; now we're getting bigger :))
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