bueno

91 yo 🔙

[brilcrist]

𝐼𝑛 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑑𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑟

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Ps: this one is an unused art for my merch bonuses.‬ ‪I posted it here coz i still like the concept. ‬

‪And the person that lying in bed is... up to you.‬ Can be self insert, man, woman, etc. 😚‬

[lanadelreyylover]

Paper House

Pairing: SingleDad!Leon Kennedy x Wife!Reader Rating: Explicit Summary: After losing your parents, the rest of your life went right into the ground with them. Consequently, you lost your fiancé, your place of residence, your will to carry on. And Leon had lost his wife, freshly widowed, and in need of someone to help raise his daughter. You needed money and a fresh start. Your marriage was a mutually-beneficial arrangement made under the fog of grief and desperation. Nothing more. Until now. Tags/Warnings: mentions of death, grieving loved ones, slight mention of infidelity (neither from reader nor Leon), sudden death of spouse Word Count: 8.3k

based on this request

taglist: @cakeofhorrors @rainyxie @venus-in-roses @ghostieistiredd @jqsjournal @bloodysnow15 @sistinesarchives @pinkcatnight

You aren’t sure which stage of grief you were in when you married Leon. Depression, maybe. Because in the span of a year, you lost both of your parents and your fiancé–the former at the hands of an icy road and an unbarricaded ditch, the latter because you couldn’t get over the former fast enough and were being a real ‘wet blanket’. 

Acceptance? Accepting that your life would never look the way you planned, no matter if you happened to fall in love again and have a family of your own, if you finished grad school, if you somehow adopted yourself out to an elderly couple as makeshift relatives to fill the gaping hole in your heart. 

Or maybe an entirely new stage–a witch’s brew made from a nervous breakdown plus trauma bonding plus no one left in your circle to tell you not to make a life altering decision while still in mourning. But your life was already altered irrevocably, and you needed a roof over your head, and the man couldn’t catch a break. He was grieving his wife while trying to take care of a two-month old baby and it all seemed too bleak. 

Unfortunately, you agreed to the situation when you were in that psychedelic limbo of life–that age where you can make a stupid mistake and completely justify it one night, then wake up the next morning with a year’s worth of wisdom just plopped into your brain. Perhaps there really is a switch that goes off when you hit a certain age. You can be totally adamant that you know what you want your life to look like and know exactly who you are and want to be, then you blow out the candles on your birthday cake and the smoke singes your nostrils on the way up to your brain and poof! 

Maybe you do want children of your own. Maybe you do want a man in your life who never makes you second-guess his everlasting, undying, patriotic pledge type of love for you. Maybe it was out there if only you had given it another chance and just waited.

But you had one failed relationship and the rest of your life went down the drain with it, or so you thought. One bastard cheats because you were too sad to let him between your legs, you return the ring, you lose your home, and your life is over. The only thing left for you to do is enter a marriage of convenience with a man you hardly know and to take care of a child that isn’t yours.

You love her like she is, though.

“Whatchu thinking about?” 

She’s too astute. Nothing slips under her radar. At four years old, the kid is far too advanced for her own good. Maybe she gets it from her father. Maybe not…

“Could ask you the same thing. You haven’t touched your dinner, missy.” That pasta she begged you to make with the special white sauce she treats like ambrosia of the gods. It comes from a glass canister and is typically on sale at the grocery store. You hope she’s as easy to please when she’s sixteen and wants a car, or when she wants to turn down a full-ride scholarship to go to follow her friends to a different college.

Ella picks up the stem of the fork, just twirling the utensil around the bowl of sauce and soggy wheat. “I’m not hungry.” 

“Would you eat a powdered donut?” 

Her eyes light up, baby blues glistening with joy. She gets that same look in her eyes that her father does whenever he sees her smile. “Yes.” 

“Then that means you’re hungry.” 

You’re sure it doesn’t, and that trick is usually told the other way around with a much healthier alternative like an apple or a protein bar, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. 

“Oh,” she says, dimmed eyes falling to her uneaten dinner.

“Eat up.” 

Ella looks up at you, and you arch a brow back. You had almost convinced her to take a bite when the sound of a lock clicking echoes through the corridor. Her ears prick up and she slides off the barstool, tiny feet carrying her at a superhuman pace out of the kitchen and toward the front door.

“Daddy,” you hear her shout, the twinkling sound followed by Leon’s voice greeting his daughter. After three years of living in this house, being a mother to his child in all but name, being his wife in nothing but, you still aren’t comfortable joining in on their exchanges of affection. Greeting him at the door with a kid between you was probably something he imagined doing with his wife one day, not with you. It seemed intimate of a moment to involve yourself in, already feeling like an intruder. 

The two of you lived separate lives, the only overlap being Ella and the house, which you rarely shared. He was always gone, snatched up by work, sometimes for weeks, other times for months. Even then, your bedrooms were separated by a long hallway, a pair of doors that were always shut, and two sets of locks that were always turned. Romantic. 

Leon didn’t know anything about you when the two of you met that evening. Claire had taken the baby for the night so he could try out the group therapy she had recommended–a session specifically for those that are grieving the loss of loved ones. He knew she wouldn’t let up unless he went. Plus, he fit the bill. 

You did too. A girl whose life had just about crumbled to pieces in the span of a year, losing her parents, her fiancé, the house she was living in, her car. A real mess, he thought, when he first saw you furrowing your brows at the circle of empty chairs in the church basement. Your hair was wild, windswept, and tucked behind your ears, your aflame from the whistling winter chill, your nose dripping from the cold, chin tucked into a scarf wrapped haphazardly around your neck. 

Before you could ask if you were in the right place, expecting to walk into a room full of other dumpster fires, all huddled in a circle sobbing about their grief, the same as him, he told you the fact of the matter. 

“You got the wrong time too, huh?” He was already sitting in one of the chairs, legs spread, elbows on his knees as he watched you approach, the rubber soles of your boots squelching on the lacquered floor. 

“What?” You asked. 

He checked his watch, a chunky black timepiece on his wrist. “It starts at seven-fifteen, not six-thirty.” A tidbit of information he found out after also walking into an empty room, walking back out to double-check the flyer tacked to the door. Sure enough…

You chuckled in disbelief as you fished a pair of mittens out of your coat pockets, sliding the knit accessories back onto your shaky hands. “You’ve got to be kidding.” And maybe you were about to cry. Leon remembers how the whites of your eyes suddenly got glassy and your chin began to tremble.

“I’m kind of known for my jokes, but this unfortunately isn’t one of them.” 

Another laugh. It was a more genuine sound than the other. You took another step toward the circle, approaching an empty chair, your hands finding the back of it as you leaned forward. “You know, this is probably a sign.” 

“How’s that?” He leaned against the metal back of his seat, folding his arms across his chest. 

“I didn’t really want to come to this thing, but my friend said she’d pay me twenty dollars if I showed up. Maybe this is my sign to leave.” You shrugged. “I can tell her I showed up at the wrong time, brain fog, ya’ know?” 

He huffed. 

“But I do need that twenty dollars, I guess.” Your eyes fell to the ground and you smiled, another lifeless chuckle leaving your chest as you attempted to contain it by sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. “What do you think I should do?” 

Leon just shrugged and tilted his head. “How bad do you need that twenty dollars?” 

“A better question is how bad do I need therapy.” 

His gaze faulted to the floor between his boots, then back up to you. “This isn’t therapy.” 

“Then what is it?” 

“Just a place for people to vent and cry and talk about how sad they are and how miserable life is.” 

Your shoulders shuddered as you let out a humored breath. “That’s my cue to leave.” 

You did leave that night, but the next week, at seven o’clock, fifteen minutes before the session that both of you were obviously planning to attend, he ran into you at a coffee shop down the street from the church. The two of you decided to mutually forgo the group-cry, and settled in a booth to converse one-on-one instead. 

He told you about his wife, who passed unexpectedly from a brain aneurysm six weeks after bringing their daughter, Eleanor into the world. How his job is as inconsistent as it is dangerous, and that he’s thankful for the bereavement leave he’s been so graciously (the sarcasm was strong there) given so he can take care of his infant, though he still has no idea what he’s doing. He mentioned something about her waking up every two hours, screaming and thrashing, after a month or two of sleeping peacefully through the entire night, to which you recommended a special trick that never once let you down. You had nannied for a family to put yourself through college and knew all the secrets–a real baby whisperer. 

In turn, you vented to him about your parents’ untimely death, how much of an asshole your fiancé turned out to be, and how stupid you were to live with him and not save up for a rainy day in the case that he found someone else and kicked you out to move her in. Nowhere to live, no family to rely on, and a job that hardly pays enough for groceries but has connected you with friends that have shown you a great amount of kindness in letting you crash on their couch for the time being. 

The two of you were alike in your desperation, among other things. It wasn’t long before you offered to help him take care of his daughter if he gave you a place to stay. He needed help, and wanted his daughter to have a strong mother figure in her life, and you needed a pillow. The marriage was just a formality, to stop questions from being asked. To provide some sort of normalcy to his child’s life. And because of that desire, none was left for either of you. 

And Leon still can’t quite forgive himself for that. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi.”

This is how most of your conversations go, though the two of you have lived together for over three years and you both wear rings on your fingers that presuppose a life of marital bliss, mutual exchanges of comfort, and lifelong affection. You signed up for it, quite literally, scribbling your name on a marriage certificate after outlining the terms and conditions in what seemed more like a brainstorming session in a conference room than a proposal. But perhaps, somewhere in your grief-dumbed mind and beneath the shimmering innocence of your youth, you thought things would change. 

You truly believed being a live-in nanny-slash-stand-in-mother to a man with the emotional vulnerability of a brick wall who wasn’t home for long enough to notice that you changed your hair and painted the living room walls a different color, would fall in love with you. He’d go from touching your elbow–at the most–to exploring every inch of your body while the two of you made sweet, sweaty love in a shared bed. He’d have your picture on his bedside table instead of a depiction of his late wife admired and prayed to nightly like a shrine on an altar. 

“She didn’t eat dinner?” His brows furrow as he catches sight of the untouched bowl on the kitchen island. Ella took off to the play room upstairs, promising to return once she found the thing she wanted to show her dad. You can hear the pitter-patter of her feet above your head as she navigates the room. 

“Nope,” you say, watching as he pulls out a low ball glass and a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard, pouring himself a shot, downing it in one toss before setting the cup in the sink, turning on the faucet to rinse it out. “She said she wasn’t hungry. But to be honest, I think she filled up on the snacks I gave her after her ballet class. Rookie mistake.” 

He chuckles, then glances at you, leaning over the sink, his arms extended, the heels of his palms supporting him on the marble counter. He’s wearing the bead bracelet you helped Ella make for him, a string of multicolored shapes and “Best Dad” spelled out in white blocks with black letters. “You got any plans tonight?”

You almost laugh. When the two of you were setting the parameters of this…arrangement…he made sure you knew you were always free to explore other options outside the marriage for whatever needs you may have. You tried once or twice to pick up men at bars or clubs when you went out with friends, but it never felt right, not when you knew Leon was back at home, despite the fact that he wasn’t waiting up for you. 

So you’re telling me I can see other men?

If that’s what you need, then yeah, I’m not gonna stop you. This won’t be physical, so if you want to get that from someone else, that’s fine. 

And what about you? Will you sleep with other women? 

I’m not sleeping with anyone. 

“No,” you say. You haven’t answered that question positively in almost a year. “You?” 

He hasn’t either.

“No.” Leon shakes his head.

You wonder how much longer he can continue on like this–a grown man, obviously still virile and healthy, without any physical or emotional intimacy. Doesn’t he crave it? Or has he long turned those feelings off, having had and lost them in the same decade?

It happened once, a complete system failure that neither of you have spoken a breath of since. Ella was young, only just having switched from sleeping in the bassinet by your bed to the crib in her room, and you and Leon had just recently exchanged vows at the courthouse. That night, he had come home from an overseas assignment, posture slacking with wounds up and down his back and sides that you tended to with inexpert care, polishing them with salve and bandaging them with gauze and medical tape.  

His arms wrapped around your waist as he hung his head down and cried. 

I can’t do it anymore. 

And he didn’t speak for the rest of the night save for a few muffled grunts and restrained huffs as he thrusted into you with the conviction of someone who is trying not to feel. It was awkward. He was tense the whole time, leaving your bedroom after he cried her name as he finished, never to mention it again. Then, he left for three months for, what you later found out, was an assignment he volunteered for, some sort of self-flagellation to rid his body of the guilt bubbling inside it. 

“You should get out more. I worry about you being cooped up in here all day.” 

You shrug. “I get out plenty.” 

You drive her to and from preschool, run all the errands, take her to all her activities. That’s not ‘getting out’.” 

“No, that’s being a parent,” you say matter-of-factly, folding up a dish cloth to drape over the oven rail. You worry for a moment that calling yourself that would be overstepping in some way, not technically a parent, not even really a step-parent in all capacities. But Leon just nods solemnly, a thin-lipped smirk at the corner of his mouth as his eyes fall to the floor. Then they rise back up to meet your own. 

“And you’re good at it.” He turns around to now lean his seat against the counter, folding his arms. “I’m grateful for what you do and I know it doesn’t leave room for much else. But, I’m worried about you, and I don’t know, maybe you should take some time for yourself this weekend. Get out on the town. Tomorrow’s Saturday, I’m not working. I’ll watch her.” 

“Get out on the town?” You repeat, raising a brow. “To do what?” 

“Whatever you want. Get your nails done, go shopping, go get a…whatever they do at spas. Up to you. I feel bad keeping you here without–” He cuts himself off, voice trailing into nothingness. Without…paying you? That’s one of the many intricacies of this situation. He gives you room and board, leaves you and Ella wanting nothing, providing you two with everything you could need or want. And yet, as satisfying as that would be to a mother taking care of her own child, you’re less of that and more of a nanny that should be paid by the hour. But you never asked to be put on his payroll, nor desire it now. You love Ella as though she’s your own flesh and blood, and compared to how you were living before, Leon’s little house in the suburbs is a palace. 

You tilt your head, rolling the idea around back and forth between the walls of your brain. “No point in getting a manicure…or buying new clothes,” you say as you gesture to the marker stains around your cuticles and the white drips of pancake batter still on your shirt from breakfast this morning. He chuckles. “Plus, I promised Ella we’d go to the park tomorrow morning, and build a pillow fort in the living room. You can come if you want to.” 

“To the park? Or are you just enlisting my help in the construction of your fort?” 

“Both?”

There’s something so revitalizing about a Spring morning. Dewdrops coat the blades of grass that tickle your feet, half-way to bare now that the weather permits sandals. Mornings are bright, not too hot, with just enough warmth from the sun to cut the breeze that turns bitter and biting in the shade. 

It’s Saturday, and the park is bustling with smiles and the twinkling sounds of joyful children, running on the playground, their giddy feet carrying them across mulch and concrete. 

Packing Ella in the car wasn’t difficult, not when she was released from the shackles of school for a couple days, her seatbelt promising fun and whimsy, not the four walls of her classroom. She doesn’t hate school. In fact, she likes it, and does really well, but there’s nothing a kid wants to do less than spend eight hours a day, five days a week, being told what to do, even if they enjoy it.

So, weekends are special. They’re filled with trips to the park, the museum, the science center. And this Saturday is especially wonderful because it’s her father in the front of the car, not just you, driving her to a day of play. 

In the house, she picked out her outfit, dressed herself, attempted to negotiate with you over her bringing a toy to the park, and then calmed herself down when you told her ‘no’. 

“They’ll get dirty,” Leon said as he walked into her bedroom, taking the stuffed animal and doll from her hands and setting them down reverently on the dresser. “Or you’ll lose them, and that won’t be fun for any of us.” He rolled his eyes with you, and you laughed. 

“Are you coming with us?” Ella asked him as you walked her through the steps to tying her shoes. Almost. The bunny looks more like a lopsided elephant with one ear, but those overachieving knots aren’t going anywhere. 

Leon turns his gaze to you. “If that’s alright?” 

“Of course.” 

Ella didn’t stop babbling the entire car ride, talking a big game about how she was going to do the monkey bars all by herself, and go down the big slide that scared all the other kids. Leon just nodded along, feeding her bravery with reassurances. Little did he know, he would be enlisted in going down said slide with her, and be the one to hold her up while she swung from the bars. 

The playground is bustling when the two of you arrive, walking through the gate, immediately finding a place to sit down as Ella bolts toward the see-saw. Leon settles onto the bench beside you, leaning back as he intently tracks his daughter’s form through the tinted lenses of his glasses while she navigates the park. He’s dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a dark gray, v-neck t-shirt, a pair of sunglasses folded on the neckline, pulling down to reveal a patch of skin just below his collarbone. You try not to look, but he catches you. 

At first, Leon makes a comment about the weather, and you politely respond, complimenting the sky in its clarity. Then, the conversation slowly shifts to Ella’s performance in school, how smart she already is even as a preschooler, him owing it all to you and the way you’ve brought her up to be so inquisitive, so curious and creative–his glittering compliments only ceasing when a woman approaches and interrupts. 

She stands in front of you both with her hip jutted, one hand resting above it, and once she gets close enough to take in the details of Leon’s face, and the hard-earned muscles that extend from his shirt, her expression softens, scowl growing into a smile. 

“Oh hi,” she says, not bothering to even glance out of the corner of her eye at you, gaze solely affixed to Leon beside you. She’s beautiful with long, dark hair that cascades down her back in perfectly groomed tendrils, and deliciously bronzed skin. A jealous thought races through your mind, and before you can dwell on it, Leon unfolds his arms and wraps one around your shoulders as casually as he would put his car in park. 

It sends a chill down your spine, cooling you off as the buttery sun warms your face. 

A flat ‘hello’ is all he gives in response. 

“Does the little blonde girl with braids and a pink shirt belong to you?” 

Your heart begins to race, thinking of all the ways she could have gotten hurt on the equipment, expecting to hear of a cracked skull or broken leg.

“Yes,” you and Leon reply in unison, and the woman’s attention is finally dragged to your face for only a fleeting second before she turns it back to your husband. 

“What’s going on?” 

She ignores you, extending a hand to Leon which he hesitantly shakes. “I should introduce myself. My name is Stephanie. My little boy is the one in the green hat over there.” Stephanie points across the mulch to a boy around Ella’s age playing especially viciously with the toy shovels in the sandbox, trying to bend the plastic tool in his hand as he kicks particles into the air. Leon asks her to get to the point in the nicest way possible. “Your daughter punched my son in the face.” 

“What?” 

“Yeah, right in the nose. Just thought I’d come over here to ask for an apology for my son. He’s pretty upset and in our house, we teach our kids to say ‘sorry’ when they hurt others, so it would send the wrong message to him if she didn’t say it.” 

“Did you witness this?” He asks. The woman shakes her head. 

“No, but my son isn’t a liar. He told me that she hit him right in the face.” 

“I’ll go talk to her,” you say to Leon, the two of you exchanging a glance that reads as a storm of both annoyance and undeniable responsibility. The woman seems like a stuck-up cunt, but your kid allegedly punched hers in the face and you’ve been backed into a corner.

Leaving Leon with Stephanie, you stand up from the bench, eyes immediately running across the playground, finally landing on Ella sitting on a swing behind the vast jungle gym. Her eyes are dry but the expression on her face is pure dejection, her sweet rosebud lips puckered into a frown, her blonde brows knit together as she studies the mulch beneath her feet. 

“Miss Eleanor Kennedy,” you croon, approaching with grace. She doesn’t look up from the ground as she listlessly holds onto the rails of the swing. “Would you mind telling me what happened with a certain boy in a green baseball cap?” Crouching down, you hold yourself up with a hand on the metal pole of the swingset, looking up at the face she has tilted toward the earth. 

She just shrugs, looking awfully adorable in her little jeans and sparkly ballet flats for someone with a mean hook (allegedly). 

“Did you hit that boy, Ella?” 

She finally looks at you, her big blue eyes wide. It’s so jarring how much she looks like Leon at this moment. “Yes.”

“Can you tell me why?”

She shakes her head, short, blonde pigtails flopping from side to side against the movement. 

“Well, you can tell me the details later, but right now, we need to go apologize to him.” You reach out a hand for her to grab, rising to standing to walk her over to the sandbox, where the boy and his mother stand. Ella gawks at your hand, her fire returning. 

“No way!” She jumps off the swing and stomps past you toward her father who is now heading to you both. That’s when you see it. A mark in a dotted circle near the nape of her neck, right in the sinew of her shoulder. A red, raw bite mark. 

“Leon, look,” you say, catching up to Ella, holding her still by the balls of her shoulders so you can inspect the mark, hoping that your eyes deceive you. He thins his eyes as he walks to your side, eyes honing in on what you’re now certain is a bite. 

“Little shit,” he hisses under his breath, shaking his head. He crouches down with a slight groan, holding his daughter’s hands in his. “Can you tell us who did this to you?” 

She points to the sandbox at the only boy there, running off any other children with his violent play. “He did.” 

“Did he bite you before or after you hit him?” You ask. She tilts her head up to look at you. 

“He pushed me down,” is all she gives. 

“Should we go talk to his mom about this? Sort this out?” You ask, turning your gaze to Leon. As he stands, he sighs, shoulders rising and falling beneath the breath. 

“No. Neither of us were there to see it, and apparently she wasn’t either, so we can’t know what really happened. Let’s just go home and get this bandaged up.” 

You place two cupped palms over Ella’s ears. “But he took a bite out of her, Leon. He can’t just get away with that. It drew blood.” You cringe looking down at the mark again, a few pieces of broken skin peeling.

He puts a light hand on your arm. “And she apparently hit him in the face.” 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “And he pushed her,” you add in a mumble. 

He chuckles lightly. “Do you really think that woman will be rational about this? Look at her.” You follow his gaze to Stephanie, watching the two of you intently with narrowed eyes as her child kicks sand into her shoes. “If you go over there and try to talk things through, it might get out of hand, and something tells me she’s looking for a fight.” 

You relent with a long blink. “You’re right. Let’s just go.” With Ella in tow, you and Leon walk toward the gate, Leon stepping ahead to open it for you and Ella to pass through, almost to the finish line before a grating voice appears, approaching beside you. 

“Woah, woah, woah. Hey there. Yoo-hoo. Remember me?” 

You stop in your tracks, squeezing Ella’s hand before letting it go so she can walk toward her dad. “How could I forget?” You mutter, looking around for her son who is nowhere to be found, probably terrorizing some other defenseless child.

“Were you just going to walk away and ignore this?” 

“Look,” you start as Leon comes to your side. “Apparently your son both bit and pushed her, so let’s just call this even.” 

She scoffs, her mouth falling open as she puts two dramatic hands on her hips. “I think not. And do you even have any evidence of him ‘pushing’ and ‘biting’ her?” She asks with flamboyant air quotes. 

You could turn Ella around and show Stephanie the wound, but you hold her close instead. 

“Do you have evidence of her punching your son?” Leon asks. She stutters, spitting out a string of incoherent threats. 

“If he told me she punched him, then she punched him.” 

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree,” Leon says, placing a hand on your back. “Let’s go. Have a good day, Stephanie,” he says with a quick lift and lower of his hand, dismissing the crazed loon in front of you as you bring Ella to your hip and start to walk away.

“My son is not a liar,” she shouts.

You glance over your shoulder. “Well neither is my daughter.” 

Leon wasn’t sure he had ever heard you call Ella your daughter, and he contemplated the tectonic shift that happened in his mind as he drove the two of you back home, watching as you picked at your nails and shook your knee until he pulled into the driveway. 

He stood silently in the door of the bathroom as he watched you disinfect the bite mark on her neck, which was a lot more shallow than either of you had expected, thankfully. The way your hands treated her with such care. How you cracked jokes and made her giggle while you swiped a bit of salve over the cut skin. When you pulled her into a bear hug, rocking her back and forth, after you placed a large bandage over the wound and kissed it better. 

He was sure he had been temporarily blinded over the past few years, only now regaining his sight to see you, the woman he took into his home both out of pity and necessity, as something far more than just a mother figure to his child, and a roommate who decorates his house with pretty things. 

Leon felt a latch move into place. A flip of a switch. He had experienced something similar in his twenties, right after the government sunk their nails into him and the second half of his life began, but nothing as strong as this. The complete shift in consciousness was jarring then, and it’s nearly twice as jarring now.

How much time has he wasted? 

“You sleeping in here tonight?” You ask in jest, crawling through the part in the curtains made from blankets, venturing further into the fort. There are still a few dolls and books scattered around the quilt-clad floor, which you move aside to recline on a pillow. 

He’s reclined on a flower-shaped pillow you snagged from Ella’s room, his hands clasped behind his head, the stretch pulling up the hem of his shirt to reveal the thinnest strip of stomach, the light dusting of hair atop it. “I might,” he says with a toothless smile, closing his eyes. “It’s actually pretty cozy.” 

As if to rectify the events of the morning, you and Leon spent all afternoon constructing one hell of a pillow fort for Ella to enjoy for all of fifteen minutes before she went upstairs to play with her dollhouse, wore herself out setting up and acting out a tea party with her dolls, and was too wiped to say ‘no’ to bedtime. She’s been snoozing for half an hour, and you finally were able to rip yourself away from watching the way her nose twitched as she dreamed. 

Instead, you now watch the rise and fall of Leon’s chest as the two of you lie side by side, looking up at the sheet hanging above, the shimmering lights and painted paper stars strung along them.

“Can I ask you a question?” 

You cut your eyes to him, tracing the line of his silhouette before he turns to meet you. “Shoot.”

“Are you…um…seeing anyone? Like, a boyfriend, or something?” 

You part your lips to speak, but instead, your mouth falls open in pure, unadulterated shock. Then, a maniacal cackle that comes straight from your gut. You glance over at Leon, his eyes affixed to you. “Are you serious?” 

He just shrugs, readjusting his head on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling of the fort. “I know we talked about this before and I said I wouldn’t mind if you did. Just thought I’d ask.” 

“No, I’m not seeing anyone, Leon. Are you?” 

“Oh, no, of course not,” he says quickly and then swallows, his gaze flickering around as he pinches his brows and narrows his eyes, searching the cotton walls as if the words he needs to say will be scribbled on them. “Do you want to?”

“No. Do you?”

“No.”

The room darkens as the sun sets, the candy-colored sky no longer seeping through the windows, and the lantern at the door of the fort glows orange, illuminating the sheet walls.

“Crazy day, huh?” Is all you think to say, to break through the deafening silence between you, immediately cringing as the words leave your mouth. 

“You’re telling me. I’d rather fight BOWs than go through that again.” 

You turn your head to look at him, the acronym as foreign to you as helicopter moms are to him. “What?” 

“Work stuff,” he says with a tilted laugh, waving a dismissive hand. 

“Oh, right.” 

You sigh and another wave of silence rolls through the tent, a cacophony of nondescript sounds happening past the pink cloth: the hum of the dishwasher, the light pitter-patter of rain tapping the window, the faint sound of Ella’s white noise machine upstairs. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

You turn your face to him, blinking yourself awake from what you’re sure was a dream, never having heard those words come from his lips, not certain he even owns them. Perhaps there’s cotton in your ears and you misheard. Perhaps he was speaking another language entirely. 

But before you can so much as inhale before asking him to clarify, he shakes his head, sitting up. “Sorry.” A breathy laugh leaves his chest. “I don’t know why I said that. I think I’m just exhausted.” He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms, the act making a squeaky sound. “Gonna head upstairs.” And a quick ‘goodnight’.

You reach out to grab his arm, interrupting his movements to leave. “Wait, Leon.” He halts under your touch, pivoting slightly to glance over his shoulder. The poor man is tired–plagued with the kind of exhaustion that saws right through the bone. It’s splashed across his face like paint. There are puffy purple crescents beneath his eyes, lash line red and irritated, the glossy whites speckled with veins. And the creases between his brows, across his forehead, are deeper than they typically are, lending to the stress he’s been under recently. 

You lean forward, a hand raising to his cheek to caress his aging skin with your thumb. You’re positive you’ve never met a more beautiful man in your life, every feature on his face a perfect marriage of softness and masculinity. “Kiss me.” 

He nods, so slightly a tilt you almost miss it, but soon you’re not able to see anything at all, his face eclipsing your entire field of vision. He grabs your cheeks, pressing you deeper into him as he latches onto your lips. The first kiss is deep and slow, one languid movement, your teeth pressed together through flesh. When he pulls away to look at you, all you can see is the storm in his eyes, waves crashing against a rocky cliff within his pelagic irises. 

It’s an expression you’ve yet to see from him, something dark and utterly disastrous–something that promises a point of no return. 

This time it’s you who initiates, returning to his lips in a kiss that is far more frenzied and hungry than the one before. Four years of grief, of misery, of upheaval. Three-and-a-half of knowing Leon, being a part of his family, living in his house while you toe the line between so desperately wanting more and yet wanting to just disappear from his sight altogether. 

His tongue is needy and hot, pulling your own into a passionate tango of wanton desire. He moans into your mouth, his hands grabbing your waist, pulling you onto his lap in one swift movement. 

Instinctively, you begin grinding down on him, your hips moving back and forth, pussy throbbing as his hardened length is dragged against it. You purr in his ear, to which he responds with a grown, instantly flipping you over until your head is once again on a pillow and your back is flush to the floor. 

He kisses up and down your neck, traveling even further toward your collarbone, pulling at the neckline of your shirt to gain more uncharted territory across your skin. His lips soothe the burn from his facial hair, and you quiver under both paradoxical sensations. 

“Leon,” you say, winning his attention. He looks at you, and a silent agreement passes between you both. It’s going to happen and nothing can stop it now. 

He rips your clothes off your body, discarding them among the piles of quilt and blanket, and his hands move to make quick work of his own t-shirt and pants, until he’s in nothing but his briefs. You take a moment to drink up the sheer perfection of his form, and though you’ve seen it on a handful of occasions, there’s no memory that can do the real thing justice. The muscles of his abdomen tense as the cool air hits his skin, and when he comes down to bracket your waist with his fists, his arms flex and you nearly salivate at the bulge of his triceps. 

“Are we doing this?” He verbalizes, though the two of you are sure there’s no other way around the feelings that are finally bubbling to the surface.

“We better be. I’m not stopping now,” you confirm, snaking your hand around the back of his head to pull him into one more kiss. While your mouths meet once again in a union of tooth and tongue, his hand creeps between your bodies to slide into your panties. You gasp into his mouth as his fingers find your clit, pads rubbing the bud in circles, dropping to your seam to gather your arousal before returning. 

Maybe you’re backed up, or maybe he’s just that good, but it takes no time at all for your legs to shake, your core clenching, the rubber band in your belly to snap. Your hips jolt beneath him, begging for more as he slides his boxers down his thighs, freeing his cock, ready to give you just that. It’s prettier than you remember, and he seems far more eager to use it this time around, the head weeping with anticipation, shaft twitching as he takes it in his fist. 

“It’s been a while,” you confess as he gathers more of your arousal on his palm. “I haven’t…not since…” Not since that night between the two of you, and years have passed between then and now. The showerhead and the toys you keep in your night stand couldn’t have prepared you for what’s about to happen.

“Okay, okay,” he says, nodding in understanding as he slides his cock against the moisture on his hand. “We can go slow.” He holds himself above you with his hands on either side of your shoulders as he teases your entrance with his tip, then sliding his entire length up and down your pussy. 

“Thank you.”

“Just breathe.” It’s a soft command, and hardly one at that, but you still obey. 

You inhale deeply, letting the oxygen travel through your nostrils, expanding your lungs, cleansing and detoxifying your body like you took out all your organs and nerves and gave them a bubble bath. 

He watches between your bodies as your hips melt into the mattress. “Like that, yeah. That’s it. Let me in.” You part your legs wider, allowing him full entry into you. And he does it with reverence, sliding in one inch at a time, watching your face for a reaction. “There we go.” 

It’s been a while. And he’s much larger than you remember, only half of his length doing the job of stretching you to your limit. “Leon, you’re–”

“You can take it,” he assures, a hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I know you can. Come on, let me all the way in.” 

The stretch burns, but the pain slowly seeps into pleasure as muscle memory takes over, reminding your body how to relax, how to take it, how to let it bring you pleasure. He douses you with sweet words of praise, the dulcet tone of his voice adding to the gushing sounds of the act happening between your legs. Another climax is on your horizon, your pussy beginning to squeeze and release around his cock.

“You keep doing that and I won’t be able to pull out.” Another clench of your walls and Leon lets out a sound made from the titter of a laugh and the low rumble of a groan. “You want that? You wanna have my baby? Is that it?” 

His words box your ears like a pair of slung fists. They almost don’t register at first, not until you look into his eyes, noticing the complete lucidity inside them, undisturbed by the fog of lust that makes one cry out for gods they don’t believe in, and the mothers they no longer talk to. 

“What? No, I–I don’t know,” you stutter. “I–this is–what are we doing, Leon?” 

He looks down at the movement, since stalled, between your bodies, his cock still buried deep inside you, now unmoving. “We’re having sex.” It sounds more like a question as though the two of you awoke and suddenly were tangled in a twist of limb and tongue. 

You laugh, the muscles of your abdomen tensing as the sound shoots straight from your belly. “Nevermind. Maybe this isn’t the best time to have this conversation.” 

His brows cinch together, the skin between them creasing. He glances up and down your face, soaking in each feature, line, and freckle. Then, as if he’s not currently inside you, the knuckle he brushes against your jaw makes you shudder. It’s too tender–too intimate–of a gesture. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking, sweetheart.” 

You retreat further into the floor, shirking away as if there’s somewhere to go. Nothing but matting and cotton behind your shoulder blades. The pet name is something altogether mystical to your ears, rarely even hearing your first name on his lips. He usually just approaches and starts talking to you or calls out ‘hey’ really loud if he’s trying to reach you from across the house. 

His face contorts slightly, almost like a wince as he pulls out just an inch and trusts back in to keep himself hard. 

“Say it,” he commands softly from above you, his forearms bracketing your head so he can have a closer, more unobstructed view of your face. “Talk to me.” 

“The stuff you were saying, about us–me having your baby? I don’t get it. We…we’re not together.” 

Something like a scoff. “We’re married. I think that’s the most two people can be together.” 

You roll your eyes. “Not really.” 

Definitely a scoff. “Tell that to the IRS.” 

You reach up to swat playfully at his arm “Can you be serious, Leon?” 

“I am,” he says adamantly. “I want this. I want everything with you–all of it. I’m not sure why I didn’t see it before today, just how amazing and beautiful you are, but I don’t want to waste anymore time…living like this. You deserve more and I…I want more, whatever it is.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, really.” He looks down at the union of your bodies, still tethered together. Swaths of dark blonde hair, long streaked by strands of gray, tickle your chest. When he lifts his head the look in his eyes is so genuine, you have no reason not to believe that this is what he wants, finally coming to his senses after so long living as strangers. “Can I keep making love to you now?”

“Yes,” you say, granting him permission to keep plunging into you, the sheer thought of existing as more than just a ring and a piece of paper making it far too easy. “Please do.”

In the throes of his pleasure, Leon begins talking again. You never would have pegged him as being so loose-lipped within the bedroom (or pillow fort).

“I wanna do it all again with you, and I wanna pay attention this time. I wanna keep loving you like this. Make a baby with you.” His words are interrupted by sharp, staccato breaths as he continues to babble while plummeting in and out of you at a determined pace. “You wanna make a baby with me?” 

“Yes, yes,” you gasp out, scratching at his back as his length slides against your front wall. “I want it.” 

“Oh fuck. Okay, really?” He sounds surprised, as if all this talk was merely a way for him to rectify the past few years, to butter you up, to redeem himself as a husband and father. But you nod anyway, confirming that fact that you too crave more. You want what you had within arm’s reach once and was ripped away from you. And you want it with him. “Yeah, okay, let me give you a baby. Keep squeezing me like that. Ah, just like that. Come for me.” 

Whether it’s the dulcet praises pouring from his lips like maple syrup, or the promise of normalcy with a man who has, in his own strangled way, protected and taken care of you for the last few years, you steadily approach your pleasure. It’s not like fireworks on the Fourth of July, erupting in the air, spewing glittering sparks of plasma through the sky. It’s like a wave on an overcast harbor, slowly building in speed and strength before it rolls onto the shore, lapping against the sand and rock. 

He cries out for god, for you, his own climax violently thrashing inside his body, sending electric pulses from his toes to his head, lighting his brain and belly on fire. His fingers dig deeper 

With determination, he finishes inside of you with one last roll of his hips and a rumbling growl of a man that hasn’t found such release in far too long. 

“Try to keep it in,” he says, slowly pulling out of you, pressing your thighs together while he searches for a pillow on the bed to slide beneath your hips. A trick to facilitate conception, you assume, and though your mind is still sparkling, your vision still slightly blurred at the corners, your legs shaky like strawberry preserves, you wonder how he knows to perform such an act. 

It’s difficult to not let your mind wander to thoughts of those days when Leon lived in this house with her, the two of them happily married and wanting to continue their family. Maybe he’s the one that researched the best methods to make it stick. 

You’re not a stranger to this feeling–some thick knot in your stomach, woven with threads of guilt. Guilt for marrying the widow of a woman who wasn’t four months in the ground when you and Leon met at that courthouse on his lunch break. Guilt for encroaching on the family that she could have had–that she dreamed about for ten months, if not longer, as she designated a room in the house for her daughter’s nursery, painted the walls pink, and picked out a name. 

As months passed after your marriage was signed and sealed, and you dusted off framed pictures of her and Leon, placed on the mantle like an altar, you thought about leaving. Ella wasn’t a year old at the time, and probably wouldn’t remember you if you told Leon you couldn’t handle it and left. Guilt crept in when you pondered that too. He was a mess, and his job necessitated that he work, though they gave him time for bereavement, yet he was hardly present even if he was home. And Ella adored you. You couldn’t leave her. And so you didn’t. And so you won’t.

You can’t. Not now. Not if what Leon’s mumbling in your ear comes true, and you both hope it does. 

[tokkiwrites]

𐔌 ⋮ 𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐒. 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘 𓏵 𝐅 ！𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

W.C 7.24K . ╋━ ℜed as my heart. 🎐

𑣲𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ─── You grew up defying the village’s only law: never enter the forest. But the forest gave you a companion, a wolf who never left your side. At twenty-three, forced into marriage with a man you cannot love, the wolf comes to save you, not as you remembered him, but as something far more dangerous.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ᣟ𐚁˳ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : WEREWOLF ! LEON KENNEDY x fem!reader, afab! reader, gothic fairytale AU kind of, little red riding hood inspired, mentions of blood, violence, slight gore, death, arranged marriage, some angst, misogyny, religious symbolism, false prophets, outcast reader, dark romance ???, slow burn, gothic horror elements, age gap ( leon is literally hundreds of years old), morally grey characters, ABO basically (mates, knots, short desc of leons dick), unprotected p in v, virginity loss, belly bulge, cumflation, fingering ( f receiving ), lots of talking, if there's something else lmk !!!

݁ᲝAIᲘ ᲝEᲘU | ˖Ი𐑼⋆ 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐈 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 🎮 . ᐟ.ᐟ hey yall.. i was gone for an eternity... again... BUT I AM BACK WITH THIS STORY YEPPEEE !! i bring you werewolf leon. its a rewrite of another fic of mine with some changes. i hope you enjoy this tiny world ive built and lmk if you'd like a longer series.

As the full moon settles deep under the hilltops, the sun bloodies up the sky again, signaling yet another day has begun. This cruel world, for what it is worth, has its beauty. A beauty that punishes as much as it blesses, that lures you with sweet words only to tear you apart in the next breath. No child is born into this world without being touched by its cruelty.

And you were no exception.

The village had rules that were written in the marrow of every person, written in every lullaby people sung to children. Never step into the forest, it was not yours to touch.

The trees were old, older than the temple stones, older than the altars where false gods, charlatans pretending to be holy men, now fattened themselves on coin and praise. The forest belonged to others, others who were not men nor beast.

But what does a child care for rules when the air is new with spring and the light pools gold on the green grass?

You saw her first, the little doe. Her flank streaked red, a gash blooming along her side. She stumbled from the underbrush and collapsed just beyond the tree line, sides heaving, eyes rolling white. Without thought and without even fear, your little legs carried you to her.

"Hello.." you whispered, voice small and trembling, hands outstretched as if your touch alone could heal it. Behind you, the village roofs slept in the distance. Ahead, the trees loomed, black spines against the dawn.

And in their shadows, something watched.

You didn’t see it at first, only heard the sound of branches shifting, a low pad of paws on damp earth. The doe’s ears flicked but she did not bolt. Perhaps she understood before you did.

Yellow eyes, twin coals, caught the newborn sun.

The huge wolf stood where the light couldn’t reach, silent. Enormous. His coat was dark, thick, blending with the shadows, but his gaze burned. He did not lunge and he did not growl. He only looked. A scream might have saved you, running might have spared you. But instead you did the strangest, most dangerous thing of all.

"She’s hurt.. Don’tㅡ be cruel!" You clenched your fists by your side.

The wolf tilted his head, as though the words puzzled him. As if even he couldn't understand how one could be so careless and so naive. What a silly girl, he probably thought. Then he stepped back into the deeper dark. He was gone just like that.

The doe trembled under your touch, its warm blood slicking your palms. You cried, not out of fear, but frustration. You had no way to help. Your family’s apothecary was full of herbs, tinctures, salves yet here, in the lonesome forest, you were helpless.

By the time you fetched anyone, the doe was gone. The grass was stained where she had lain, the earth turned over in signs of struggle. And among them you saw pawprints, larger than any normal dog or wolf.

You told no one, but you kept going back since then.

By fourteen, you had understood well what it meant to be silent. The apothecary shelves sagged with jars no one bought anymore, the herbs inside curling into dust. The air smelled like thyme and lamiaceae, but no footsteps crossed the threshold. Only your father’s voice filled the old space, muttering as he ground another root no one had asked for.

You kept your head down, hands busy, because it was easier that way, easier than watching the villagers bow to men in gold chains and red velvet robes, who arrived in their square with empty promises. Easier than noticing how your mother’s eyes lingered on the cracked beams above the counter, as though she were counting how many more days before they collapsed.

When the feeling of it was too much, you went where no one was supposed to go.

The forest was forbidden, yes, but it welcomed you more kindly than the village ever had. The trees leaned low, their branches a shelter. Wildflowers tangled at your ankles, and the streams whispered secrets you never dared tell your mother.

And when you went in the forest, he was there.

You couldn’t always see him. Sometimes he was only a shadow between trunks, or a faint rustle in the leaves. But you knew he was there.

Even when the woods were still, you felt eyes on you. Not cruel, not yet kind. Only watching, maybe curious just as you.

You should have been afraid. Perhaps you were, at first. But children grow used to danger when it becomes a part of their days. You carried your fear like another basket in your hands, which was heavy but it became ordinary.

Once, gathering berries, your hem snagged on a thorn. You tugged too hard and stumbled, and the fruit scattering into the dirt. Hot tears stung your eyes, not for the pain in your scraped knee, but for the waste. It was foolish, yes, yet you cried anyway.

You looked up through wet lashes and saw them, those two stars burning in the shade. The wolf. He seemed larger than before.

You did not run, foolish child. "Don’t laugh at me.." you said. "It wasn’t my fault!"

He tilted his head, and for a moment you heard the faintest rumble.

Your heart beat so loud you thought it might shake loose out of your chest. When you left, you felt lighter. As though confessing your shame to the shadows had eased something in you.

You didn’t tell anyone about it. How could you? No one would believe that the forest had listened to a little girl.

As time passed, so had your hope in the world. For the time will never stop to aid mere dreamers.

The bell above the apothecary door rang, a foreign sound now, and you froze mid sweep, hands gripping the broom so tightly.

Your father's shoulders tensed behind the counter, jaw tight as he straightened the jars of powdered plants. Your mother's eyes flicked toward the newcomers, wary, composed, as though she had been expecting them all of her life.

They were the gilded men, with heads high, and their robes of deep red embroidered with gold, coins clinking as they moved. One stepped forward, hands behind his back, a vile smile on his revolving face.

"Good day." he said. "We have heard of your, how shall I say, services to the village over the years. And we think perhaps we can improve upon them."

Your stomach knotted. You knew these men. Men who hid in holy trappings. Oh, men. They weren't worthy of such title.

"We have what we need." Your father’s words did not falter. "The herbs, the roots, they are ours... We tend them with care."

The man tilted his head, smile widening, his ugly eyes scanning you for a moment, lingering a bit too long before sliding back to your parents.

"Ah, but of course!" he said. "But care alone does not suffice. People desire results. We can provide those results. And in exchange we require only your cooperation!"

Your mother’s fingers twitched, brushing a loose strand of hair from her forehead. "Cooperation?" she asked, trying to calm herself, all though you could see the tears in her eyes.

"What is it you mean?"

The man’s gaze flicked to you again. "A simple matter. We wish to purchase the apothecary. Its location, its resources, and its goodwill with the people. We will provide wealth, advancement, a future."

A laugh slipped from somewhere in your chest. It was bitter. Your hands pressed to your apron as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks.

"A future?" you whispered. "You call it a future, but why does this village feel like a cage?"

One of the other men, who was shorter and more rotund with a bald patch on the top of his head, leaned forward.

"Dear girl.." He glanced at you, as if noticing you for the first time. "You work here?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"She is my daughter." Your father began.

"Oh, yes.. lovely, diligent, though unseen. Perhaps you can assist us in the transition?"

You swallowed. You'd rather die than help. Your throat was dry. You wanted to speak, to argue, to tell them they had no right, that this was your father's work, your mother's dreams, but the words stuck somewhere behind your heart.

"They will take the shelves." you heard your mother mutter under her breath to your father, but the words were lost amid the polished laughter of the men. "They will take everything.."

And then you heard your father's voice, which was sorrowful.

"If we refuse, they will burn us from the village. They will take the apothecary by force, and the people will cheer."

You felt small and hollow, as the men made their terms clear. Coins were counted, papers slid across the counter, signatures pressed into ink that smelled of rot and control.

The tall man with eyes like polished diamonds turned to you.

"You may stay." he said softly. "You shall be the maid. Admirable work, yes." But you did not feel admired.

You felt exposed, like a fish caught in a net. The door closed behind them, the bell ringing one last time. Silence filled the room. You sank onto the floor behind a low shelf, hands gripping your knees, cheeks streaked with tears you hadn’t meant to shed.

"Why did yㅡyou let them.. Why?"

"Child.." your mother said, her voice trembling now "We had no choice. Not anymore. We were lucky to have lasted this long."

You pressed your face to your knees, letting the sobs come. And somewhere beneath those tears the memory of the forest stirred, a place where no gilded man could enter, where no coin could buy or threaten.

Again, you ran.

You ran until the cobblestones gave way to soft earth, until the scent of smoke and coin and polished wood faded behind you. Your legs trembled, from exhaustion, from the hurt of helplessness, the spoiled, ugly taste of despair curling on your tongue.

The trees leaned toward you as you stumbled into the forest, leaves brushing your hair like words comfort, roots rising to steady your frantic steps.

Your breaths came unevenly, sharp and desperate and then you finally fell to your knees on the soft earth.

You buried your face in your arms, letting the tears come freely. You felt it all now. The flowers at your feet, the petals damp with dew. Somewhere nearby, a stream murmured, threading its way through the underbrush. You shivered and pressed your body closer to the earth, curling in on yourself.

Hours passed.

When you stirred, the sky was lighter, pink at the edges of the canopy. You looked around, trying to shake some sense into your sleepy mind.

And there he was again.

He did not approach, did not make a sound. He simply stood there, dark and immense, watching and patient, as always.

You lifted your head, blurry eyed. "IㅡI can't do anything right!"

You pressed your hands to your face again, ashamed. Yet you felt seen without judgment, without ridicule. By him.

More hours must have passed in that stillness. When you dared to open your eyes again, the forest had shifted with the afternoon light. Around you, the petals of wildflowers were arranged into a soft, inviting bed, and beside you lay a small pile of berries, dark and ripe.

Golden eyes watched from the shadow line of trees. He had been guarding.

"Youㅡ did not leave.."

Something swelled in your chest, fear, yes, but something else, too. Comfort. Wonder? Maybe. A connection to something alive and strong in a world that had often been cruel.

You pressed your hands to the ground and leaned forward, face nearly touching the petals, murmuring "I’m sorry.. for everything. I know I cry a lot.."

And for the first time in a long while, curled amongst the blossoms with the sweet berries at your side, you dared to let your wild heart rest, even if only for a little while.

The village shifted around you, but not toward kindness. The apothecary your parents once ran, now a Coin House with no herbs that filled the shelves, no smell of lavender or warm wax, only the faint must of old wood and money hungry monsters. You still worked there, of course.

Villagers came, yes, but not for cures. They left coins pressed into your hands or on the counter, whispered prayers tucked into envelopes, along the little richness they had. They were trusting, hoping, that one day, some return would be made if they gave it all away now. Some profit, some miracle from God himself.

Your father had left a year ago, or more, you lost count of time, claiming he needed to secure more patrons. Even if the apothecary was no longer, he still wanted to sell what was left of it.

No one expected him back, not after three months had passed. After seven moths of him gone, your mother became a ghost of whom she was, counting the little coins left, counting days, counting her strength until it ran thin.

Days came and went, and you were twenty three now, which meant one thing: you were eligible. And the arrangements had already been made.

The man chosen for you was old and cruel, but rich, yet unmoving as stone. Your mother spoke little when she told you. Your father was now gone, so it was your turn to give back for the many years they have raised you, fed you, clothed you.

And so, the day of the meeting came. Alongside him was the richest of them all, his brother perhaps. They looked related, both with shrunken faces and blue eyes, yet with guts huge from the lot of money they ate on the daily. Gluttony and Greed, both stood in front of you.

Greed did not smile, yet his brother spoke softly, as if talking to a child. "Your duty is simple." he said. "Love him, worship him, bear his children, keep to his house. That is your life now.”

You nodded, but the destain in your eyes was clear. You wanted to bite back, rip straight through their jugular, for the taste of ugliness was too much on your tongue and the thorns that pierced your heart were growing.

"What if I do not want to?"

Gluttony turned to his brother in silence, as if considering it. Then, they erupted in laughter, their voices echoing in the empty church.

"You are a child even more so a woman! You will do as you're told." They both laughed some more, as if seeing you take into account what you might actually want was the tastiest meal they’ve ever had.

"Stupid woman."

"Obey, and do not make me repeat myself. You're only but a lowly peasant girl, with no father and a mother on the brink of death. You should feel lucky you were chosen."

You sucked in a deep breath, the wind hitting against the dusty glass windows. You would be damned if you ever cried in front of a hoaxer, not again, not ever. You may be forced to marry that heathen of a man, Greed, but no one could force you to love him.

So that was that. You excused yourself and walked out of the church, the sundown hugging you with its golden light.

Alone, you walked the quiet streets of the village, listening to the distant crackles of lanterns, to the clatter of pots and pans as people were preparing supper.

The forest at the edge of the village beckoned. And you slipped toward it, letting your tears fall freely.

Branches arched above like spires, and the earth beneath you was soft. Somewhere in the shadows, that same presence remained.

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you stumbled over a root. You pressed your hands to your face and let it all go, the sobs coming ragged and ugly. You had nowhere to hide now, but the forest did not judge you for that.

You froze, half blind with tears. He came, the wolf. Closer than ever before.

He came forward until his shadow covered yours, and lowered himself until his head pressed into your lap. Your breath hitched. Fingers hovered, trembling, until instinct overcame fear. You touched him. His fur was thicker, softer than you had imagined all these years.

The heat of him seeped through your skirts, steadying you as though he were more real than anything else in the world.

"I-I do not know what to do.." you whispered to the wolf. "They want to— to marry me off. To him. He is.. he’s cruel, and I’ll be nothing but a caged bird."

The wolf’s chest rose and fell.

"I don’t want to leave. I belong here.." Your voice cracked. "I belong to the trees, and the streams, and the air in this forest, not to him! Oh, little wolf.."

His ears twitched.

"I wish I was brave." you confessed. "I wish.. I could say no. But Mother says we’ll die otherwise. She says I must be grateful."

Your fingers sank deeper into his fur, clutching at it. "They all look at me like I’m a coin to be spent. No one asks me what I want. Not once, not ever..."

The wolf let out a low sound then, a growl that shaked against your hands, your thighs and your chest. "I know.." you said, as if he had spoken. "You understand, don’t you? You’ve been here all along.. You are my only friend."

Silence stretched. You curled forward, pressing your forehead to the crown of his head, your tears dampening his fur. "If you were human, I'd ask you to take me away. Anywhere! Anywhere but here..."

The wolf stilled. If it were human.

There were only seven more days left until the ceremony. People who had never even known you were to arrive, to celebrate the union that would forever bind you to that monster.

You were out in the back garden, looking at the now dead plants your dad used to take care of. This patch of earth had been his pride. It used to be a place full of life, now, the stalks were brittle, the soil dry and cracked. A graveyard of what had been. It was truly horrible how much things could change in so small a span of years.

Some crunching on nearby leaves wake you from your sorrowful trance. You lifted your head, and froze. A man stood at the edge of the garden. A villager. No, he couldn't be one. You knew every face, good or bad.

No, this man was someone else.

Tall, broad, his shoulders filling the space as if the light itself had to bend to allow him through. His hair was light, touched with grey that caught the wan light of dusk, and his jaw was shadowed with rough stubble. His face looked carved from something older than the stone of this earth, something cruel yet tender all at once.

You tried to speak but couldn't. You felt the strangest pull, not fear exactly, but almost recognition. As though your soul had seen him before, but your eyes never had.

He looked at you, trying to weigh his words as to not scare you away, perhaps.

"You live here?" His voice was lower than you expected. It sounded just like thunder.

You swallowed and shaked your head. "YㅡYes." The word snagged in your throat. You hadn’t stammered like this in front of a man since you were a child.

He stepped no closer, though you realized you wished he would. "Strange place for someone like you." he said quietly, his eyes drifting over the dead garden you were mourning.

You looked down at your hands, embarrassed without knowing why. "It wasn’t always like this."

When you dared to look up again, he was already walking away, vanishing into the trees.

He came again, and again. Never with warning, never with reason. Sometimes he asked simple things. Whether you liked the woods, whether you feared them.

Sometimes he said nothing at all, only watched you as though he were reading you like a book. You never found the courage to ask who he was.

But each time he came, your shyness only deepened. His presence made you clumsy with words, made your skin burn beneath his gaze, all blushed and warm like simmering milk on fire.

You always waited for him, in the same place, with that same feeling in your stomach.

He was older, rougher, and oh so handsome, nothing like the boys who tried to snicker at you in the square, or the odious man you were about to marry.

Three days until the wedding, you slipped away to the forest and the wolf was there, as always, waiting.

"I've met someone." you confessed, cheeks heating though no one else could hear what you had said. "The most handsome man I’ve ever seen. It seems like... Like he understands me, even if he doesn’t say much."

The wolf’s ears flicked. You laughed softly, reaching out to pet him. "I must sound foolish, don’t I? Telling secrets to a wolf... But I can’t tell anyone else. Not Mother, not the others. Only you, my little friend."

You brushed your fingers through his fur.

"His voice is so soft and sweet, but so strong.." you whispered. "It feels like I’ve heard it before. Maybe in a dream..." The wolf closed his eyes. The forest went utterly still.

Maybe in a dream.

The second to last day came fast.

The house was filled with people and of preparations. Strangers came and went, voices too loud, hands too busy arranging a future you wanted no part of. Your mother’s face was pale, her eyes darting whenever they met yours, as though she couldn’t bear the sight of what she’d done.

You escaped to the garden, as you always did. The plants were still dead, the soil still barren, but at least here the noise of the village could not reach you.

You sat on your little stool by the fence, skirts brushing the dirt, fingers plucking absently at a wilted stem until it snapped.

And as always, he came.

He lingered at the edge of the garden, that towering frame occupying the fading light. He never crossed into the garden as though there was an invisible wall between you two.

He didn’t speak and only watched you with that unreadable gaze, his arms folded across his chest.

You tried not to look at him too long. Tried not to let him see the way your throat tightened or how your heart was knocking against your ribs.

But the silence pressed on you until you thought you might choke. When at last he turned to leave, something in you broke.

"I will get married tomorrow!" you called. The words tore from your throat louder than you'd meant. You were desperate.

You rose from your stool, fists clenching at your sides. "I do n—ot want to." your voice cracked. "But I must."

Slowly, he turned his head, just enough to glance over his shoulder. In the dim light, you saw the sharp set of his jaw.

"Why must I marry someone whom I do not love?" you asked, your voice breaking into a sob. "Why must I give myself to a man I despise?"

For a long, long moment, he said nothing. Did he even hear you?

"The world is a cruel place, little miss."

He turned his back again, striding away, but his voice you still heard as he walked in the coming darkness. "But you will get your happiness in no time."

He was gone just like that, swallowed whole by the forest. You stood alone in your silence, tears running down your face like a cascade.

The door snapped open behind you.

"What are you doing out here? Who are you talking to?" your mother’s voice cut like a whip across your skin.

You turned quickly, dragging the back of your hand across your cheeks, but it was too late. Her eyes narrowed, catching the redness in yours.

"Is this how you plan to make these plants come back alive?" she snapped, gesturing to the withered stalks around you. "Crying over them?"

Your frown deepened, and you wiped your tears more harshly this time, angry at yourself for letting her see. Angry at the world for making you cry at all.

Her shoulders lowered just slightly. The sharpness in her tone gave way to something softer, as she sighed. "Come, child. It’s dark."

You hesitated, glancing back once at the trees.

"Come inside." she called your name, louder now.

And though every part of you longed to run into the forest and follow him, you obeyed.

The morning of your wedding dawned without mercy.

Church bells tolled in the square. Didn't they know what fate they were striking for you? Your mother’s hands trembled as she drew the white gown over your shoulders.

The cloth was rich, far richer than anything you had ever owned yet it felt like a shroud, heavy and suffocating you.

"Stand still." She whispered sharply. "Do not shame me before them."

You stood stiff as she pinned the veil into your hair. It fell like a curtain of smoke over your face, blurring the world into shadow. When you looked down at yourself, the white was blinding, sanctified but you knew it wasn’t purity they celebrated. It was possession.

"They will see you as a proper wife." your mother began, tying the last ribbon at your waist. "And perhaps you will know comfort. Perhaps not. But you must endure, child."

You turned your face toward her, though the veil softened her features. "Do you call this comfort?"

Her mouth pressed into a thin line. "Do not make me answer that! The world has no patience for women who dream too much."

The door opened. The sound of voices carried from outside, of villagers gathering, the clatter of carts, the laughter of children who did not know better.

Your stomach twisted.

The walk to the chapel felt endless. Each step made you feel as if you were walking to your own funeral. Villagers turned their heads as you passed, some smiling, some whispering behind their hands.

A few looked at you with pity, yet none dared to speak.

The chapel loomed ahead, its spire stabbing the sky. Inside, candles flickered against the stone, throwing long shadows. The priest stood ready, his robes gleaming red and gold. Beside him, your groom waited.

The Greed. He was older than you by decades, his face sagging like wax melted in the august sun. Rings glittered on every finger, but his eyes were small, so sharp and hungry. When you approached, he grinned, a crooked thing of a smile.

"Lift her veil." he ordered to the best man, who was there to make sure you will not try to run away.

The man reached for you, and for a moment, you thought to pull back, but your mother’s hand pressed at your back, forcing you forward. The veil was lifted.

The groom’s eyes swept over your face, down your form, slow and possessive. "You shall give me strong sons." he said.

The priest cleared his throat, raising his hands. "Before the eyes of the God and of men, we bind these two.”

The groom’s hand clamped down on yours, his nails digging into your glove. His smile was a sneer, fat, greedy and assured. The priest’s voice rose again, but the sound was muddied by your own heartbeat in your eardrums. You wished to kill, eat them all alive then spit them out and let whatever God they prayed to do the judging.

"Let no one put asunder what is bound this day—"

The doors exploded.

Wood splintered, crashing inward as a sound like thunder split the air. A growl rolled through the church, low and guttural vibrating the very walls of it.

The wolf filled the doorway.

Gasps, screams, prayers, a flood of voices all at once. His teeth gleamed wet, his eyes burned like molten moons. He stepped forward, claws raking the stone, and the people fell back.

"The Beast!" the priest yelled, holding his relic high. "The Abomination!"

The wolf lunged. The relic snapped like kindling between his jaws, the priest crumpling beneath him with a scream that ended wet as his very bones shattered.

Panic erupted. Guests scrambled over pews, mothers shielding children, men fumbling for weapons they had no courage to use.

The wolf moved through them like fire through dry fields. He was unstoppable, merciless. He ripped one man in half, sent another crashing against the altar with a swipe of his large paw. The whole building shook with the force of his fury.

Your mother grabbed your wrist. "Run!" She gasped, tugging you toward the side door. But the crush of bodies shoved her back. You saw her eyes widen with tears before the crowd carried her away.

The groom shrieked, pushing you aside as he tried to flee, yet his velvet robes tangled his legs. He stumbled, falling hard. The wolf’s head snapped toward him, lips curling back over fangs.

"No—!" the man wailed. "Stay away you monster!"

The wolf’s jaws closed on his neck, dragging him across the stone. His scream ripped through the chapel as blood sprayed the white floor.

The wolf shook him like a rag, bones cracking, flesh tearing, his head barely connected to the rest of his body now.

You pressed against the altar, your veil slipping, your hands shaking, and yet your heart did not cower. Not from him.

The wolf dropped what was left of the man. He turned, his chest heaving, blood matting his muzzle. His eyes locked on yours.

You thought it must be all a dream, surely. But then he began to change. From beast to man.

His form convulsed, stretching, breaking. Bones shifted beneath fur, muscle twisting, reshaping. Claws curled back into fingers, fur melting into skin slick with sweat and blood, the growls faded into a human gasp.

When it ended, he stood before you. The man from the garden.

His chest rose and fell, blood running down his arms, his hands. His eyes, the same golden fire, fixed on you.

The church lay in ruin around you, the floor slick with blood, streaking your once white gown. The cries of the dying were echoing off the stone.

You swallowed. "You.." The word barely scraped out by your lips "You killed them all."

His gaze didn’t flinch. "I spared who deserved sparing." His voice was low "The rest—" He glanced briefly toward the broken benches, the dead people, the corpse of the man you were meant to wed. His lip curled "The rest were vermin."

Your throat tightened. "But you—" you shook your head, tears streaking down your cheeks. "You’re the wolf."

"And you were never afraid."

"I was." you whispered. "At first. I thoughtㅡ I thought you might devour me.."

"Yet.." his voice rumbled "You stayed."

"Why me?" You blinked hard. "Why not anyone else? Why watch over me?"

His breath shuddered as he stopped just before you, close enough that you could smell the copper on his skin. "Because you were never theirs to take." he said. "Because you are mine."

"Yours?"

The corner of his mouth curled in a smile, but heavy, sorrowful. "Do you not feel it?" His eyes searched yours.

"All those nights you spoke to me as though I could answer? All those tears you spilled into the earth, thinking no one cared? I was there. Always."

"No.." Your hand lifted, trembling, and you touched your chest where your heart thundered. "I thoughtㅡ I thought I was imagining it."

"You were not imagining me." He reached then, slowly, taking your hand in his. His fingers were slick with blood, staining yours, binding them together. He lifted it, bowing his head, pressing his lips hard against your knuckles.

You gasped softly, your tears slipping faster. "You’re covered in blood... are you hurt?"

His eyes flicked up, still holding your hand against his mouth. "Would you rather I left you to him? To a life of chains?"

"No!" The word burst out. "I would rather d-die than belong to him."

He released a sharp breath, almost a laugh. "Good. Then you belong to me."

Your other hand rose, cupping his cheek. The blood was now dry. Still, he leaned into your touch, his eyes slipping shut in relief. "Say it."

"I belong to you.."

His eyes snapped open and then his mouth crashed against yours.

The kiss was brutal, desperate, full of teeth and hunger. His hand tangled in your hair, pulling you close, as if he might fuse you to him forever.

Your very first kiss. He has waited for so long.

The taste of his tongue was iron and smoke, your lips smeared with blood, his, yours, theirs, you didn’t care. You clung to him, hands gripping his shoulders as if he gave you life.

"I shall make you mine now."

Your veil had slipped back, tangled with your hair, sticky with blood. The pristine white of your gown was gone, streaked red where his hands had held you, where strangers had fallen. You should have been horrified, undone by it all, yet when his golden eyes burned down into yours, you felt nothing but heat.

"Come." he said, his hand took yours. "This place will rot. It was never meant for you."

He pulled you gently over broken benches and shattered glass. The chapel doors hung open, crooked on their hinges, and beyond them the forest called.

You stumbled once, the hem of your dress catching, but his arm caught you. The chaos around you was nothing compared to the need burning in him.

Outside, the night was waiting. The moon swelled fat above the treeline, its silver light spilling down like a blessing.

He led you into the shadows, further and further, until the screams of the village were only echoes in the wind.

Finally, when the trees grew dense enough to hide you from every prying eye, he stopped. His chest rose and fell, still ragged from battle. He turned to you.

"You do not know what I am." He said.

You swallowed hard, your hand still trapped in his. "I do. You’re my wolf, my friend.."

"Not just a wolf." He looked past you "A man, a beast— both, and neither. Long before your priests, before your coin houses and their false gods, my kind walked among yours. We lived, we loved, we shared blood and bread and fire."

He paused, his breath unsteady. "But men are quick to fear what they cannot chain. So a treaty was carvedㅡ your kind to the villages, mine to the forest. We were forbidden to take wives from you, forbidden to bear children together. It was peace, they said. Peace bought with walls."

"And you obeyed?"

"For a time." His mouth curved, bitter. "Until they stole what was mine." His hand tightened around yours. "You."

"I—I don’t understand."

His other hand rose, rough fingers brushing your jaw. "You are my mate. From the moment you were born, from the moment you stepped into the forest as a child, I knew. Your scent, your voice IㅡI could not keep away. The treaty has no claim on you. No paper signed by frightened vermin can sever what the moon has bound." The forest was oh so still. "You are mine." he said again.

Your lips parted with your heart slamming in your chest. "IㅡI.."

"From the first breath you drew, you were marked. I have circled this place for years, waiting, cursing the gods who made it so I could not touch you, love you.. But no longer."

"You waited for me?"

"I hunted, I killed, I endured. But I did not take a mate. You were mine. Always. Even when you were too small to know, I knew. I could not choose another."

"Then why now?"

"Because they would have bound you to another. Stolen you from me. And I will tear apart the world before I allow that." The ferocity of his tone should have frightened you, really. Instead, you felt the heat pooling in your lower belly. His hand drifted to your throat, just to feel your pulse racing beneath his fingers.

"You are mine." he said yet again. "Mine, as the moon is to the night. Do you accept it? Do you accept me, wolf and man alike?" The forest leaned closer, the wind curling around your gown, whispering and urging you on.

"I do." you blinked up at him though heavy lashes. "I accept you."

His eyes softened, though his grip did not. He leaned his forehead against yours, breath hot against your puffy lips.

"I am yours." you managed.

"And I am yours." he spoke against your skin.

His nose brushed the line of your jaw, a low growl vibrating in his chest. "With those words, you bind me as surely as the moon binds the tide. There is no undoing it, no escape from me now."

"I do not want to escape.." you confessed.

Moonlight slipped between the branches, painting silver over your bloodied gown, over his torn shirt, over the curve of his throat as it moved when he swallowed. He was gorgeous and you were completely bewitched.

He drew back just enough to look at you, his hand still cradling your jaw. "You are trembling." his voice was low. "Is it from fear or want?"

Your lips parted, no answer rising.

A slow smile curved his mouth. His thumb brushed over your cheek. "You shake like a doe cornered in the grass, as the ones you found years ago." he spoke, voice almost like laughter. "But I see the truth in your eyes. It is not fear that has you weak, little fawn."

His other hand slid to the nape of your neck, tilting your face up to him. "Tell me." he said softer now "What is it you want of me?"

Heat surged in your face, your throat tightening. Words gathered, then scattered before they could leave your lips. You looked away.

His hand at your neck tightened just enough to make you gasp "No." He tuts. "Do not hide from me." he said. "Not you, not now. Speak it."

"I—" your breath faltered. His eyes bore into you, demanding, waiting. Shame clawed at you, but beneath it was something far hotter, an ache that made your knees want to give up. "I don’t know what I— what I feel."

He leaned closer, his mouth grazing your temple. "Then I shall tell you. You feel hunger. Need. You want me to put my hands upon you. To make you mine in truth." His lips brushed your ear. "Say it."

"I wㅡant you." you stuttered.

"Again." His voice was firm.

"I want you." stronger this time, though your face was brighter than apples.

His own restraint was fraying. "Good girl."

His hand slid from your jaw, down the column of your throat, over the swell of your breast, pausing as to feel the way you shivered. His mouth was still at your ear, breath ragged, his words sinking deeper than a dagger.

"I will guard you." thumb brushing the edge of your collarbone. "No man will lay claim to you again. No vows but mine, no chains but the ones you choose.."

Your lips parted, your body leaning into his without thought. His palm flattened over your chest, right where your heart thundered.

"You will run where you please, little fawn. The hills, the streams—" His voice deepened almost breaking as his hand swept lower, over the folds of your dress, gathering the fabric in his fist, the buttons giving out. "You will laugh, and breathe, and never bow again."

Your knees buckled, a gasp tearing out of you as his fingers brushed your thigh.

"You hear me?" His voice was demanding, though his lips ghosted tenderly along your neck and shoulder. "You are mine, and I will see you free."

His hands roamed slowly, memorizing every curve of your body that had been hidden from the world all this while. "My beautiful little fawn. " his voice was fire. "You belong to no one but me."

"I.. I've never—" your voice wavered "I've never been with anyone.. like this."

"I know." he breathed, thumb stroking along your waist. "I've waited a long time to show you."

His hands pressed you tighter to him, but his eyes softened as he saw the way you clung to him desperately. "Do you trust me, little fawn?"

You nodded weakly, unable to speak. "You should. You are mine and I would die a thousand deaths before letting a single hair on your head be touched.”

His hands moved, teasing, grazing over places that had never known attention, and your body flinched and arched into it all at once.

"I will show you, little fawn. I will show you what it means to be cherished and wanted and protected...”

He takes your hand into his rugged palm, pressing it onto the hardened form in his pants. You were new to this, yes, yet you knew what that meant.

"Do you feel it? How much I’ve waited for this? For you?" You moan without reason, all shy and teary eyed.

In mere seconds, your dress was completely off, ripped into rags by his strong hands. You were flush against a tree, flowers wet of rain dancing at your bare feet. Though the wind blew, your body was hot all over, this strange, new feeling leaving you wanting more.

"I do not wish to scare you away." He finally speaks again, his pants coming undone and slipping past his knees. "You need to understand there is nothing human about what is about to happen."

You nod, though you can feel your toes curling into dirt. You look down and saying you were shocked would be an understatement. He was utterly enormous, tip red and angry, base bulbous, pulsing. Is this what all men carried in their trousers? Ah, wait, but he was no man.

Your shy eyes meet his again and he smiles. "Do not fear. It may hurt at first but then, I promise, it will feel just as heaven."

Rugged hands make their way up and around your hips as his face stays flush against your tender chest. He was ready to devour you. The wolf man looked up into your eyes, and all of the things you felt this instant caused your fears to melt away, just as you had in his embrace.

Gently, he laid you down onto the flowers below, the wet petals cold against your burning skin.

You looked like something out of a dream, skin glowing in the moonlight, hands covering your breasts, legs barely closed. Your pretty eyes searched, long lashes clumped with tears and dry blood. You looked unreal. Erotic. And all his.

"Spread your legs for me." it wasn’t a request, it was an order. and you obeyed. Spreading your legs you give him a full view of you dripping cunt, and the wolf man throws his head back with a low groan.

He kneels in front of you on the earth, pulling you so that your thighs are right over his, your puffy lips now on full display. Two of his digits make their way up to your mouth. "Suck." you comply.

After that was done, his calloused fingers make their way between your folds, gathering up the juices you've been dripping. "My gorgeous." You whimpered softly and he shushed you, rubbing small circles on your plush thigh with his other hand. He pushes one of his fingers slowly inside, and you can immediately feel it. It didn’t hurt, not yet, it was just strange and new. The second finger comes quick after and he starts pumping, moving them in and out as his lips made contact with your swollen bud, lapping up at the nectar of you. So sweet, the wait was worth it. Your eyes stay wide open as this new feeling washes over you, and you can't help but be ashamed as you let out sounds you didn’t know you could make. He hums against your sopping cunt, eating as if he starved for years while his fingers kept moving faster, faster.

You mewl and writhe before it all comes to an agonizing stop. He pulls his fingers out, looking straight down at you. Keeping eye contact, he licks them and you're sat there, mouth agape. Before you can protest he shoves those same two fingers into your waiting mouth, his other hand now fondling one of your breasts.

"Such beauty, I could only dream of it. Thank you for letting me have you this way, eternally."

You hum around his digits, trying to pull him closer by his waist. He smiles, squishing your face with the sleek fingers he had in your mouth seconds ago. "Impatient girl." Your muffled whimpers only seem to please him.

His broad hand presses flat to your stomach, sliding lower until he’s teasing the entrance of your flower with his leaking tip.

He smirks at the dazed parting of your mouth, the flush creeping down your chest.

The hand at your breast squeezes once rough, before sliding down to hook your thigh high around his hip. You stumble, caught only by the sheer size of him pressing you into the tree behind you.

"Look at you." he breathes, eyes roaming. "Shaking for me, and I’ve barely even started.."

His cock drags heavy against your thigh, hot and insistent. He groans low at the contact, the sound beastly.

"I’ll split you open on this cock, little fawn.." he growls, lips brushing your pebbled nipple. "Fill you so deep you’ll never forget what it feels like. Every time you walk, every time you breathe, you will remember tonight."

His length slid against your soaked folds, teasing and pressing against them but not entering. Your breath hitched, thighs trembling as you tried to buck closer. He only chuckled holding you pinned with maddening patience. This is the cruelest you've seen him so far, you thought.

"Oh.." Your nails dug into his shoulders with useless resistance. "Pleaseㅡ" you whispered.

"Please what?" He tilted his head, grinding the thick head of his cock against you, just enough to make you cry out. "Say it, little fawn."

Your cheeks burned, your voice cracked. "Please, inside! Iㅡ I need you inside of me!"

"Do you want my seed inside of you?" His words were sharp. "Do you want to be bred full of my pups, so everyone in that wretched village knows who you belong to?"

Shame and heat tangled in your chest, and you sobbed. Your legs wrapped tighter around him.

"Yes!" you gasped, frantic tears streaking your face. "Yes, please, I want itㅡ I want your pups."

Thats all he had to hear. He thrust, hard, splitting you wide, dragging a cry of pain from your lips. He tries to kiss your tears away, whispering soft sorrys as he lets you adjust, but he can hold himself back so long while you squeeze so deliciously around him. "My, my, what greedy cunt you have, pretty.. Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

He moved a bit shallow at first, ragged control making his body shake. But soon the beast broke loose.

His hips slammed forward, burying himself to the hilt, the sound of flesh on flesh ringing sharp in the night. "Oh, g-god.." You clawed at him, overwhelmed. "I am your only god, l-little fawn." You could feel him in your stomach, the sheer size of him forming a small mound in your belly.

My what hunger.

Each thrust was forcing a whimper from your throat. Your legs were now up on his broad shoulders. "TㅡToo much!" you gasped though your legs locked tighter around him, keeping him there.

"No. Not enough." he growled, breath hot against your ankles. "I’ll give you every drop. You’ll take it— you’ll take all of me, yes?"

He bit down on your shoulder, hard enough to break skin and enough to leave a mark. His pace turned brutal, unrelenting, like he was carving his claim into your very bones.

Yet even as your cries broke in his ear, he murmured "I’m sorry, my sweet."

Your body gave in before your mind could catch up, heat sparking low in your belly, your cries changing into something else entirely.

You didn’t even realize you were begging until the words spilled out shameless. "Please— Oh, don’t stop, don’t stop!"

He wasn't going to stop. Not anytime soon at least.

Each thrust was a strike of thunder, his hips slamming into you until the bark of the tree dug into your back leaving bloody marks.Your nails scored red trails across his shoulders, pleas spilling broken from your lips between sobs and moans you could no longer tell apart.

His breath came ragged, harsh growls rasping from his throat with every plunge. He pressed his forehead to yours, sweat and blood mixing where your skin met.

"You feel it, don’t you? How tight you are— how you take me? You were made for me, look, look how you are swallowing me whole."

He bit down on the tender place beneath your ear, pulling another moan from you as his hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise.

"I’ll fill you" he swore, voice breaking rough and desperate. "I’ll put my pups inside you, make you heavy with me." He grunts.

Fluster burned your cheeks even as you nodded wildly. "Yes—yes, please, I want it, oh, I want you to!"

His rhythm faltered, hips grinding harder, deeper, drilling into you with no mercy. "Oh, my brave, brave girl.." The wolf huffs.

The sounds tearing from his chest were no longer words, only ragged growls. You felt him swell inside you, thicker, stretching you wider than before.

"WhㅡWhat is happening?" your voice broke with panic, unsure if what you were feeling was right. He buried his face against your neck, teeth grazing your skin where he had bit it earlier.

"Don’t fight it. You’re mine now. All of you. I will keep you filled until it takes."

The pressure inside you built unbearably. You whimpered, pussy clenching around him. With a few more moves of his hips he came undone. his knot swelled fully, locking you to him, stretching you open around the thickest part of him. Pain lanced through your body until were crying out with each frantic jerk of his hips.

"Ah—don’t, I—" Your protest dissolved into a sob as his hand cupped the back of your head, forcing your gaze into his large eyes.

"Yes." he growled, forehead pressing hard against yours. "Take it! Take me, carry me!"

The knot throbbed inside you, his release flooding deep, searing heat that wouldn’t stop. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

"Mine. My little fawn. You’ll never escape me now. This.. Oh, you are my gift of the moon.."

The world was still. Just the two of you tangled together beneath the watchful moon. you felt so full it was almost unbearable, yet your body no longer fought him.

He started brushing the tangled hair from your face with one palm, the other smoothing across the curve of your back where your skin was scratched.

"You did so well. My brave fawn."

Tears stung your eyes, but he kissed them away, mouth gentle now, where as moments before it had been so wild and beastly.

"I’ll never let you go." he pressed another kiss on your swollen lips. "The forests, the rivers, the hills.. they’re yours, all yours. And I’ll guard them. I’ll guard you. Always."

"Stay? Please..stay with me."

His smile was small almost boyish, and so full of warmth it undid you more than his savagery ever could.

"There is nowhere else I’d ever go"

[bvttrflys]

"WISH YOU'D LET ME STAY"

— "...I'm ready now."

warnings: re9 mentor!leon kennedy x rookie dso agent!reader, office tension, hurt comfort, fluff and suggestive themes at the end, implied age gap between adults (age not mentioned, up to you)

summary: leon finds out you almost died on your most recent mission and emotions come up to an all time high.

playlist while writing: friends by chase atlantic & a little death by the neighborhood

You were sat on your desk, busy responding to emails and filling out papers regarding your most recent mission hijacking a hidden base that held B.O.W.s in Japan. In all honesty, the mission nearly killed you if it wasn't for Sherry's quick thinking to break her protocol as your FOS coordinator. She interrupted your mission and called for backup despite having no orders from you to do so. You were passed out in a pool of your own blood, radio silent for five hours and Sherry's decision was necessary. However, your mentor, Leon, didn't have to know that happened.

Unbeknownst to you, Leon had been restless inside his private office all morning, his brows furrowed as he tried to ignore the lump in his throat. Eventually realizing that work and coffee wasn't going to drown out the feeling, he left his office and went looking for you.

It wasn't long until the sound of his tactical boots echoed the halls, catching your attention. You turned your head to see your mentor standing beside your chair, evidently having something on his mind.

"Office. Now."

His words came out as a low rumble that vibrated right through your chest. He's been serious before but this felt different. His demeanor even caught the prying eyes of our co-workers behind their desks.

He didn't wait for your reply before turning to walk back to his office. You quickly stood up to follow, leaving your papers on the desk.

That dark blue tactical shirt always highlighted his arms so well. Okay, not the point, he was walking further already and you had to catch up. Your mind was frantically cycling through everything you did this week. Did you miss a report? Did you say something wrong earlier?

As soon as you stepped inside, the door clicked shut behind you. Leon leaned his back against his office's door, crossing his arms over his chest. His cold demeanor changed the mood of the whole room.

"Explain." he bit out, his gaze piercing into you

"Explain what, sir?" You asked as your voice wavered despite your best efforts to keep it steady. "If this is about paperwork, I filed the post-mission report for my operation in Japan this morning. Everything went well-"

"Don't lie to me." he snapped, his composure cracking as he revealed his thoughts. "I just got a debrief from Sherry an hour ago. She told me what happened. She told me that for five hours, you were completely off-grid, trapped in a collapsing structure with a B.O.W. hunting you. You didn't even think to ping for backup?"

You froze, he knew you were keeping secrets. "Sir, I had the situation under control-"

"You were bleeding out, Y/N! You could've died!" Leon stepped forward, his deep voice was tight with an intensity that felt far more dangerous than anger. He stood in front of you and stressfully ran his hand through his hair.

"Sherry broke protocol because she knew you were playing Russian roulette with your life. Why didn't you call for help? I'm always on stand-by too. Why didn't you call me?" His intense voice had boiled down to a more anxious tone.

"I didn't want to worry you." You whispered, the defiance draining out of you. "I’m a field agent, Leon. I’m supposed to be able to handle-"

"I don't give a damn about your pride!" he interrupted once more, his hands moving to your shoulders—not to shake you, but almost to confirm to himself that you were real and still alive. You were breathing heavily at this point, taken aback by this unexpected reaction.

His eyes were searching yours, reflecting a look of vulnerability you had never seen in him before. "Do you have any idea what it’s like? The feeling that…"

You had never seen Leon Kennedy so upset that he couldn’t even finish his sentence.

"The feeling that I could have lost you and I wouldn't have even known why?"

The silence in the office grew suffocating, broken only by the sound of your synchronized breathing. "I’ve spent half my life losing people, Y/N. I’ve watched enough friends walk out that door and never come back. I can't be the one who stands by and lets it happen to you, too."

You wanted to say something but you knew that him showing his vulnerability to you like this was taking a lot of courage. Instead, you listened and took every one of his words in.

His hand slid from your shoulders to cup the side of your face, palms rough against your skin but his touch was gentle. "I want you to come home after every mission. No… I need you to come home. Y/N, if you’re not there waiting for me at the end of the day then.. What’s the fucking point of it all?"

Your lips parted at his passionate honesty. Your heart was beating at a rate you felt it had never reached before. The wave of realization imbedded itself deep into your chest. At that moment, you didn’t see your mentor who was a seasoned agent, you saw a man who was truly terrified of a future that didn't include you. The raw and unfiltered desperation in his eyes wasn’t all in your head at all.

"Leon..." Your breathed slowly, composing yourself as your hands moved downwards to intertwine with his. "I’m here. I’m standing right here."

"I know," he whispered, "But I need to know you’ll fight to live and sometimes that means asking for help. Not just because it's the mission..."

He stopped himself from continuing his words again. Your eyes worriedly searched his as you looked for an answer. Your gentle gaze seemed to have given him some reassurance. He shut his eyes tightly before opening them as if he was bracing for the impact of his next words. He's decided to let himself be fully vulnerable with you.

"Fuck, I wait for you every damn day you’re on a mission, rookie." 

"I'm terrified." He added. All the walls you both had built to keep your relationship professional suddenly felt fragile, crumbling under the sheer intensity of his gaze.

"You won’t ever lose me, Leon." You whispered, you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and pulled him in just a fraction closer. "Every time I'm out there, every time things go to shit… The only thing that keeps me fighting is knowing that I’ll see you after it’s all over."

Leon’s eyes softened yet he was still evidently tense when you confessed. His hands slid to rest on your waist, his hold firm.

"I shouldn't," he muttered, his voice dropping into a rough, strained register. "I'm your mentor, Y/N. Someone older with more experience that's supposed to keep you safe, keep you focused. Not subject you to potential threats or be the reason you're distracted out there." 

He let out a shaky, self-deprecating laugh, his forehead dropping against yours. "But, I’ve tried to bury this. I’ve tried to keep that line drawn so firmly that I wouldn't cross it, but every time you come back from a mission that line gets a little harder to see."

You let out a sharp, breathless laugh, your hand sliding up to rest on his shoulder. You weren't going to let his badge or his rank be a shield for his hesitation anymore. You had been needing for this exact moment, for this specific confession, for as long as you had been working under him.

"Leon, look at me," You commanded softly, meeting his conflicted gaze with a steady, unyielding stare. "You talk about lines and duty but you’re forgetting something. I’m a DSO agent because you trained me to be the best and I know exactly what I’m doing. I can think for myself and I can choose for myself."

He looks down at you directly in the eyes, his expression losing its hesitation, replaced by a raw and overwhelming certainty. Your words held conviction in them and he listened attentively as you tugged at his heartstrings.

You took a deep breath before continuing as you felt the intensity of the situation begin to surge through your body. "So let me be clear, I don't care about the risks that come with this. I choose you. I’ve been choosing you every single day and I’m tired of waiting for you to figure out that you’re the only person I want to come home to."

His expression softened, the stern lines of his face collapsing into a look of profound relief. His thumb brushed over your cheek, his touch lingering. "I've spent so long trying to ignore it, trying to convince myself it was just concern for a rookie of mine. But it's not. There’s not possibility for anyone else. It’s you, Y/N. It’s always been you."

"It’s always been you too, Leon..." you breathed, his name sounding like a prayer in the suffocating silence of the office. You reached up, your own trembling hands resting over his wrists, feeling the rapid, uneven pulse beneath his skin. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

"I meant every word I said, rookie." He whispered, his grip tightening just enough to pull you against him.

"I did too." You replied as the weight of his words settled between both of you. Your arms were now resting on his shoulders as the gap between you two started to close.

His eyes traveled to your lips before flickering back up to your eyes, searching for permission.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, his voice stripped of all its usual professional detachment.

"Please." Your words barely came out before he closed the final fraction of space between you.

His soft lips met yours, one hand on your waist while his other cupped the side of your face. He was slowly savoring you, wanting to take his time to forever remember how you tasted in this moment.

It wasn’t long until the gentleness spiraled into something far more desperate and needy. His hands moved to pick you up and sit you on top of his desk, holding you steady as if you were the only solid thing in a world that had tried to take me away from him. All the pent up and unsaid emotions had taken over the both of you.

"Ah, Leon…" You let out a soft moan as he slowly rubbed his knee in between your legs as you two tasted each other, your panties were starting to get soaked.

"I know, baby, I know. So… fuckin’…. perfect…" He let out breathlessly in between kisses.

In this moment, nothing mattered as you both found solace in each other's touch.

a/n; office tension and an angry intense love confession, yum. hope you enjoyed and indulged with me! might still have some typos :0

[lsk-nd9642]

TW: Age gap (older man/younger woman)

—: But I have to make breakfast…

Leon: But… don’t leave… ☹️

I’ll leave this here and disappear again. I love drawing cozy Leon arts. This man deserves the world!!

[tempestleon]

fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me

[crimescrimson]

Leon S. Kennedy in Resident Evil: Requiem (2026)

[defvia]

I want to suck his dick so bad like damn

[lanadelreyylover]

breakfast, lunch, and dinner

Munch!Leon Kennedy x Reader

Once he gets started, he won't let up

based on this request--to my requester, I hope I was able to breathe life into your fantasy, thank you so much for stopping by :)

a/n: I'm finally getting back into the groove of writing. tried to keep this short and sweet, I know my drabbles have been anything but recently. anyway...please enjoy and know that my inbox is always open if you have a wicked idea you'd like me to explore

It wasn’t long into your relationship with Leon that things started to get physical. One look at the man with the dress shirt he begrudgingly wore to work with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, or those suit pants that contoured his form a little too perfectly, and you were ready to pounce like a tiger on its prey. All it took was one movie night at your apartment where the two of you were snuggled up like bugs in a rug on the sofa, sharing the warmth of one blanket to keep the winter chill seeping through the windows at bay. 

A round of sharing each other’s saliva, hands roaming past the point of no return, and a clumsy trek into the bedroom on shaky legs. Things were bound to proceed as hot and heavy as they began.

After stripping you down to your underwear, Leon gently nudged you onto the bed, and your lips immediately missed the warmth and softness of his own as he stood above you just to sink down onto his knees a moment later to pull down your panties. With his hands on either of your thighs, he drove them apart, and then he took a second to manually adjust your hips on the edge of the mattress, setting you into place for him to begin his ministrations. 

He started with a long lick from the bottom of your entrance all the way up to your clit, the bud pulsing in anticipation. His tongue laid flat against it as he continued to lap like a kitten at a bowl of milk, small, gentle strokes to warm you up. 

Then, when he was satisfied with how wet you had gotten beneath him, how your hips were jolting, your body writhing like a live wire, he began to eat. 

You had never experienced a man who lived up to the name of the act, devouring your pussy like it was his last meal on earth and he had to make every drop count. He did it with such a ferocious hunger, you were certain it was more for his pleasure than your own.

He started by sliding his down your folds, licking the nerves on either side of your clit in between hungry licks at your seam. It made your body jerk, and your abdomen tense. Groaning against your pussy, he stuck the tip of the muscle past your entrance, tonguing your insides as if testing to see how far he could go. The sensation was euphoric, and your climax was nigh and fast-approaching. 

Early into your relationship, you were worried how this would go. With every man before Leon, it would take hours for you to finish, if you did at all. Even by yourself, with your own fingers, or the help of a battery-powered friend, your orgasm was as elusive as a butterfly, always out of arm’s reach. 

Whether Leon was experienced or whether it was written into his biology to know exactly which buttons to press, which spot to lick, you didn’t care. Just as long as he didn’t stop. 

And he didn’t. 

He continued to consume you after your first, second, and third climax, his tongue far from worn, his mouth far from tired. 

“Leon,” you whined, clawing at the sinew of his shoulderblades through the fabric of his t-shirt. Your fingers dug into his skin, pulled at his hair; you pleaded for some reprieve, though he didn’t overlook the lack of surety in your voice, and continued to work. The moans that escaped your throat were like the sound of a flare gun at the starting line of a race. 

In turn, the sounds he made against your pussy pushed you over the edge…yet again, until you were screaming out his name, and you felt as though you could either fall through the layers of cotton and fluff in the mattress, or ascend to the heavens to live among the stars behind your eyes.

After the waterworks of your last orgasm, you were probably drowning the man, though you’re certain, by the way he’s been dining on you for the last hour, he wouldn’t mind dying a hero’s between your legs. 

He retreated, an obscene sheen of sweat and arousal painted across his chin and mouth. His chest heaved with each labored breath he sucked in, his shoulders consequently rising and falling. Strands of dark blonde hair were sticking up in all directions, a tousled mess at your own hands. Surely he was done, you thought. That is, until he wiped away the moisture on his face with his forearm and lunged past you onto the mattress, his head propped up by a pillow, hands expectantly grasped on his abdomen. 

“Sit on my face,” he said, with a smile as big as the moon.  

taglist: @cakeofhorrors @rainyxie

[classygumi]

riotrants: result of this poll! this is part one, and i do predict that the second part will definitely be more suggestive and a little darker in terms of like obsession...but like reader is into it so is it really bad?? sorry if this is bad but i think its cute...and i honestly think i had too many ideas for one fic? maybe I was a little courageous and i tried to do too much?? i dunno

leon kennedy was no stranger to the woes and horrors of life.

the years had not been kind to him—outbreaks, infections, wars, plagues, lethal pursuers, countless missions and protection details, a certain grief and displeasure for life—so, naturally, the universe's biggest joke was that he could no longer die.

leon was fifty-one.

he was fifty-one when he was bitten by a bloodthirsty creature, left to die in an alleyway. his bullets did little against the regenerating being, the impenetrable shield of skin that bullets and blades simply tickled.

he used to love the warmth of sunlight on his skin, now it makes him curl in on himself in discomfort. he cannot enter a room without invitation, his heart remains quiet in his chest, he ran cold—but he did not let his new identity, his unfamiliar lifestyle deter him.

he used it, contorted it into something he could use for good.

his strength for conquering foes, his speed for evasion and lightning fast combos, his perfect vision and hearing for scoping out areas and gathering intel.

no one questioned it. no one dared ask how leon had acquired half the information he did, they simply remained in the unknown. their blindness to his methods was not fully an oversight, not a mere glance at his capabilities with no further interrogation—an oddity they could not be bothered to investigate.

rather, it was more the fact that leon was practically a ghost.

he moved in and out of rooms with predatory stealth, he smiled when appropriate and left conversations as smoothly as a man with the intensity of disarming a nuclear weapon could, but there was one variable his clientele always noticed.

leon spent hours in the medical ward.

he'd drop a file on the desk, and brush past the questioning gazes and duck into the medical wing of the establishment.

behind the swinging doors, they could not witness how the cuts that leon's body had long healed slowly began to split open.

the blood in his veins was not his, neither was the blood that trickled from the wounds he forced to reappear.

he stepped into the clinic, hand poised at the rather large gash on his side as if it were hurting, and his lips quirked into a tiny smile.

there you were.

sat at your desk, files of patients stacked a mile high on your desk as you scribbled down medications and prescriptions that needed to be filled. you perked up at the sound of shuffling, your eyes widening at the sight of him.

he heard the elevation in your heart rate, the way your body had begun to pump blood far quicker at the mere sight of him. he heard the soft tremors in your breathing as you stood, hands reaching for the cart of supplies.

"mr. kennedy," you greeted, voice nervous.

"sweetheart," he mused, tone deep and utterly fond, "how many times have i told you to call me leon?" you ignored him, pointing at the uncomfortable space for him to sit on. he sat, unashamed in the way he watched you gently cut his torn and bloodied clothes off him.

"not so bad today," you murmured, gloved fingers tracing down the line of his arm to examine his injuries. he allowed you to lift the limb, and he saw your face fall at the sight of the gash, "i take it back...i know you don't usually, but, um, we really ought to get your blood tested—“

he chuckled, shaking his head, "i'm alright. just need my favorite nurse to patch me up, yeah?" and to be honest, he had no idea what all you would have found if he had agreed to get his blood tested.

animal enzymes, low iron, high sugar...

you didn't need to worry about that.

he felt the soft press of your fingertips as the needle pierced his skin, and he did his best to suppress his healing factor. he loved the way your brows knit together as you worked, the warmth that radiated off your face as more of his skin was revealed. he could tell you wanted to spark conversation, to make the awkwardness you were feeling dissipate, but he was perfectly content like this.

your kind hands patching him up, and the worried glint that intensified in your pretty irises the more blood you cleaned up.

but his peace was swiftly disturbed.

his eyes narrowed at the gauze that peeked from under the collar of your scrubs, "what happened?" you paused, and leon immediately picked up on the shift in your breathing. you were uncomfortable.

"nothing you need to worry about," you settled on with a tiny, weak smile as you tied off his stitches. you slid off the gloves, dropping them into the biohazard bin as you watched him closely, "i'll send you some painkillers and ointment to the pharmacy—“ before you could step back to your desk, leon's hand clasped around your wrist.

this thumb brushed soothingly against the fabric of the long sleeve you wore beneath your scrubs, slipping it under the hem around your wrist to press against your pulse.

"i know when you're lying, sweetheart. did someone get handsy with you?"

you were flustered beyond belief when he rose to his full height, eyes still connected with yours. you looked away, suddenly interested in the crack on the tile that maintenance still had yet to fix. instantly, his other hand lifted to direct your face back to him, and he saw the way your lips pressed together in a fit of nerves.

"tell me," he whispered, tilting his face closer, "you know you can tell me anything, honey."

your hands lifted to grip his wrist, "just...just a patient that, um..."

leon waited, patient as always.

"he was mad i wouldn't refill his pain medicine," you quietly recalled, "he sells them to other people on the street, and he...he tried to—“

"what's his name?"

you gave him a look, glossy eyes and quivering lips, "i can't tell you." he nodded once, he understood that. it just meant he would have to find out himself. he lowered his hand from your jaw, but he let you continue to hold it. after all, it had been the most affectionate you'd been in a while. you picked at his watch as he hooked a finger into the collar of your scrubs. he carefully pulled the fabric to the side, and he frowned at the large area the gauze covered.

"what did he use?" he asked then, feeling the way you shivered at his cold finger tracing the edge of it, "you can tell me that."

you nodded towards your desk, and he followed. leon saw the scalpel that was in a bag, and it was still covered in your blood.

"i need to change the dressing," you muttered, trying to pull away from him. leon kept you still, gaze meeting yours once more, "may i help you?" you looked a little surprised, and it made him smile.

"what? medics need care, too."

"not from patients, usually," you squirmed free, assembling the items you would need. leon watched you closely, the way your hands paused at the hem of your scrubs, the nervous glance over your shoulder. "want me to close my eyes?" he smirked at your flinch, "you cut my clothes off, sweetheart. it's only fair you let me help."

it was true. leon was only in the tank top he'd worn under his gear, you'd cut off the rest of his upper layers.

"okay," you pulled the top over your head.

the thin long sleeve you wore was accessible, and it was incredibly easy to maneuver. you felt the chill of his palms as they slid over your shoulder blades, delicately turning you to face him. he pried the gauze from your skin, careful where the tape seemed to cling a little more than in other spots. the area was clean, bloody where the scalpel had dug deep, and he deeply exhaled, a breath that barely quelled his rage.

your blood smelled sweet, just like the rest of you.

thankfully, leon had years of endurance and withstanding temptation under his belt. in this moment, he would sooner kiss you than he would sink his fangs into the fragile skin of your throat.

"he did a number on you, baby," he grumbled, and he bit back a smile at the very sudden increase in your heart rate. it hadn't quite slowed down since his initial appearance, but it certainly hadn't spiked that high. he wondered then what it would be like, you by his side until forever ends.

you kept your head turned away as he worked, the gentle smear of ointment and the cautious placement of gauze and tape. your cheeks felt permanently hot, and the weight of his gaze made your stomach churn and your hands shake.

you squeaked when his face neared your chest, and his hands found your waist to stabilize you. his lips pressed sweetly against the gauze, and he pulled away to boyishly smile at you, "kissed it better for you, sweetheart."

you slid your scrub shirt back on, and shy little smile playing on your lips. you parted them to reply when the door slammed open. your smile fell, gaze hardening at the amount of blood that spilled on the tiles. leon collected his items, sending you a wink on his way out. you smiled internally, utterly ready to scream about that later—but right now, you had a dying woman on your table, and she was more important than your little crush.

leon left the building, the soft crinkle of the bloodied gauze in his pocket the only sound. he slid onto his motorcycle, securing the helmet over his head and smiling. his fingers wrapped around the handles, kicking up the post and zipping away.

he'd be back tomorrow. he knew he would.

you did, too.

naturally, he was upset by the interruption, but leon was mature. he understood that things happen, and he was more than happy to step away to let you work. you loved helping those in need, and that was something he deeply admired about you.

the way you'd smile warmly at those on the streets, entering a nearby cafe to order as many coffees and hot chocolates as possible for the ones that lived on the sidewalks and in alleys.

the taste of the gauze proved something he already knew—

you were sweet. inside and out.

leon's love and affection was overwhelming, he understood that. you were terribly shy and remarkably easy to fluster, so he wanted to take his time. he loved seeing the red that kissed the tips of your ears, the anxious twisting of your necklace, your bouncing knee he so badly wanted to plant his hand on. he wanted to soothe you, to cater to you, to hold you, to love you.

to keep you.

[memorixswan]

𝄞　　　 ⧽ 　MAKE HIM SUBMIT 　　　◞ leon scott kennedy　 ゛

˓˒ 　 　 leon kennedy   x   fem!reader 　　◟ Your husband can be a very stoic man, but you know him better than most.

warnings ⧽ 18+ content. smut ﹕ p in v ﹕ riding ﹕ choking ﹕ begging ﹕ sub leon ﹕ age gap ﹕ old man leon ﹕ praising ⧽ word count : 1,136

notes ⧽ First fic after being away for a month- what do we think? It's been a long time since I've written smut, and this is just a small drabble of something I've been thinking of, teehee.

Your husband can be a very difficult man to deal with at times. Even if you couldn't understand him at times, you still love him— but he can be very mean to you.

He can be a very serious man, a bit old-school. You married an old man, for crying out loud! What did you expect? You're a girl with needs, a large amount of needs considering the looks of your husband. Although Leon is sometimes just too exhausted to even go on dates with you, don't mistake this for him neglecting you or your marriage. He loves you dearly! It's just that he's reached an age where he believes he's too old to engage in such... activities with you.

Of course, he'd been willing to satisfy your needs, but it always abruptly ends with him on the bed rather than on top of you, as he often says, "..'m sorry, sweetie, get on top f'me, my back is hurting." he's an old man, but he's still your old man!

Your feet were thrown up in the air, your head roughly pushed against the softness of your pillows as the cool air hit your exposed skin; Leon was on top of you, his thick length was deep inside of you, hitting your sweet spot with barely any effort as you barely held back your moans, your sweet pussy was stretched so beautifully around his length, hot and silky. Pulsing against his hard length.

"f-fuck.. Leon!" You had let out another soft moan as you felt him pull out, your pussy subconsciously tightening and trying to suck him back in, clenching around him as he had let out a quiet groan. "You're doing so good f'me, sweetie." his words were a whisper, one that made you let out a small cry of pleasure.

Leon wasn't fucking you rough and fast, no. he always set the pace slow with you, always savoring the sensation of your pussy clenching around him or how your body acts on instinct whenever you were near. And you were already about to cum just for a few slow thrusts that had hit that achingly spot that sent shivers down your spine, his breath warm against the flush of your skin.

You were so close—

—that was until you had abruptly felt him pull out, leaving you aching and hollow. Your pussy made a sickeningly wet pop when he pulled out. You had instinctively let out a soft whine before you realized why he had pulled out.

"Baby, I'm sorry. fuck. Hold on—" Leon had let out a low groan; it was his back again. You had recognized the pattern before he could even say it; it happened too many times, unfortunately. He probably pulled a muscle. You watched as he pushed himself off of you, his warmth seeping away from your own body as you sat up alongside him. You should've been fretting over him, worrying if he was okay.

But you were a needy mess. A horrible one! You've been pent up for days, and at long last, when you finally get to spend time with your husband, it abruptly ends.

Your hand slowly reached for his flexing bicep as he finally appeared to be getting over the muscle strain. Instead of letting him get back on top of you, you pushed him down to the bed. Leon didn't fight back against you, never against you. You got on top of him, with you grabbing his thick length and lining it up perfectly against your wet lips, almost rubbing his tip against your folds, which earned a quiet groan from the man beneath you.

When you finally did lower yourself on his length, the sudden fullness of his cock going inside of your fluttering pussy almost made you want to cum right there. You swallowed down a whine when your hips instinctively started to grind, feeling his cock rut inside of you, trying to ignore that your cunt was fluttering around him, which was beyond your control.

"fuck— sweetheart—" his voice cracked when you finally started moving, watching as his cock disappeared into your pussy as he let out a tiny groan, throwing his head back on the pillows as your hands settled on his chest. His blue eyes were lidded and nearly blown with want. His cock was buried inside of you, thick and throbbing. You lifted yourself just until his tip was the only thing left inside before slamming back down, earning a low, broken sound that left his lips.

The sound of skin against skin was a loud thing in your shared bedroom; the slick from your pussy had made it easier for you to grind down on him as well as quickening your pace. You had started to pick up your pace. Faster and harder. Slamming down as your ass slapped against his thighs, the wet squelch of your pussy was obscene; you were soaked, dripping down his balls, making everything slick and messy.

"Slow down— you're gonna make me—" his hands gripped your hips, not quite with a bruising strength but with a strength where you felt the warmth of his hands seeping into your skin, leaving just a small amount of goosebumps in its wake. "No- you, nghh— you can handle it, c'mon, please?" you interrupted him, your voice airy and light, letting out another moan escape your soft lips as you felt his tip hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.

The scene was obscenely filthy, your slick dripping down to his thighs and balls as your body suddenly felt so hot with every upward thrust, his hips matching your speed. His hips surged forward with a desperate need as you looked down to see your husband's eyes rolling back, his mouth open as a string of light moans escaped his pretty lips.

"You can handle it, I know you can," you cooed at him, your hands moving to his throat as your delicate fingers curled around his throat with a firm grip, earning a light whine from your husband; you squeezed his throat with a lightness that made his body shudder with an unexpected need. "Yeah? You can handle another round f'me?" You watched as he nodded along with your coos as a flicker of pride swelled up in your chest.

"yes— yes, baby," he whimpers almost pathetically, breathlessly— shivering under your touch as it surged with newfound feelings that he didn't know were buried after so many years. His calloused hands glide over your soft skin, holding you with reverence. "fuck!— need to cum inside of you, please. fu-fuck— I'll do anything, sweetheart. please—" the words slipped out before he could catch them, his hips bucking as if desperately chasing his end.

Perhaps the night wasn't going to end as abruptly as it always does.

© MEMORIXSWAN — do not copy, translate, reupload my works, do not plagiarize, nor post this on another platform without my permission.

[kkissthesun]

Neighborly

Part 2: Home for the Holidays

(RE9 Leon Kennedy x Female Reader)

Summary: It's been five months since he ghosted you. You're home for the holidays hoping to avoid him entirely. Instead, you've got a demolished snowman in your front yard, a newly painted living room, and him sat at your family's table like nothing happened. You're still furious but you're still not over him. And you have no idea which one is going to win.

WC: 6.4k

Warnings: MDNI, mentions of sexting/nudes, angst, age gap, ghosting, fluff, yearning, slow burn

Notes: No smut this part but I promise there will be some in the future!

Link to Part 1

Original post on ao3

Playlist for this part

Taglist: @mskennedy2

The cold air hit you the second the airport doors slid open and you’d almost forgotten how the air out here bit in December. Back east the cold was wet and heavy. Here it was thin, sharp and stung your face like it had something to prove. It was the kind of dry cold that made your eyes water and your breath come out in hard white clouds. You pulled your coat tighter and stood at the curb with your bag while you waited for your mom. 

You spent the whole flight trying to not think about Leon ghosting you a few weeks after you went back home and had failed somewhere over the middle of the country. 

It was stupid. You knew it was stupid. It had been one afternoon and one night in July. You kept telling yourself that it was just a summer fling, it was just a hookup, and it didn’t mean anything. You were leaving the next day and that was the deal. You said it to Leon in his half-torn-apart living room. Tomorrow. You’d set the terms and you didn’t get to be surprised when they held. 

Except. He did text you. That was the part you were caught on. If he’d let you walk out that door and never said another word, you could have forgotten about it. But he didn’t. For almost three weeks after you flew home you messaged each other. It was the same sarcastic back and forth you’d had over beers in your parents’ backyard but it was in your pocket all day. He’d sent you pictures of the kitchen cabinets that were finally hung. You’d said something obnoxious about the backsplash. He’d said something obnoxious back. 

There’d been messages, late at night where the banter turned into flirting. Then the flirting turned into something more. It escalated in a way those things do when two people can’t sleep and won’t say why. You sent him nudes first, not knowing what his reaction would be. He didn’t seem like the type. But when you least expected it, he sent you one back and it made your breath catch. You waited for the typing dots with your heart going stupid in your chest. He complimented you and made you feel wanted, instead of just looked at. You fell asleep that night smiling. 

And then out of nowhere he just stopped texting you back. 

There wasn’t a fight. Just a few messages you’d sent that went unanswered. Then after a few days you decided that following up would’ve looked desperate. Days, weeks and then… Five months went by and now it was just a fact of life that whatever happened that night probably meant nothing to him. 

Except it didn’t add up with how tender he’d been. The man who could go five months without a single word was not supposed to be the same man who’d taken his time with you in the dark, who’d cleaned you up after and kissed you like you were something worth being gentle with. Those two men were not supposed to be the same person. And the fact that they were had kept you up more nights than you’d admit to anyone.

You’d stopped trying to solve it after a few months. Mostly. 

A familiar car swung up to the curb and your mom leaned across to push the door open. You shoved the emotions and thoughts of Leon down and put on the face you wore for your family. 

“There she is.” Your mom walked out from the car and hugged you. “God, you must be frozen, why weren’t you inside? Here, put your bag in the back. How was the flight?” 

“It was fine, Mom.” 

“Well you look tired.” 

You both got into the car and sat down. She pulled out into traffic with the particular fearlessness of a woman who’d driven this same loop for thirty years. “Your sister came in on Tuesday, did I tell you? She’s staying through the week with the kids, so the house is full, I hope you don’t mind the noise. The kids have been asking about you nonstop and I mean, nonstop. Mason had something he wanted to show you, I don’t know what it is, something with cards.” 

“Sounds serious.” 

“Deadly serious.” She glanced at you, with the warmness that mothers usually do. “It’s good to have you home, sweetheart. It’s been too long.” 

“It’s good to be home.” 

You meant it, mostly. The small talk carried you out of the airport and onto the highway. Your mom was talking about the sister logistics, who was cooking what for Christmas, the saga of the neighborhood’s collective failure to not shovel the snow off the sidewalks. It was easy and familiar to you. The mountains came up white on the horizon and the light went long and golden the way it only did out here, and something in your chest loosened a notch despite itself. 

When you finally turned onto your parents’ street, you saw the house next door and the notch pulled tight again. 

You knew it was stupid and impossible but you told yourself you weren’t going to look at his house as much as possible while you were here. But your eyes went to it the way a tongue goes to a sore tooth before you could stop them. The same gray siding and black metal roof looked somewhat different now. There were actual curtains in the front window and a wreath hung on the front door. The whole place had the settled look of somewhere that was lived in. 

And in the driveway sat a car you did not expect. 

A black Porsche.You knew the car was expensive and it probably cost more than you made in a very good couple years put together. It didn’t look like the kind of vehicle that would be owned by a guy who told you he moved to the suburbs because he wanted normal. It didn’t fit. Normal men who renovated their own kitchens did not have a luxury car sitting out in their driveway. 

You didn’t know what he did for work. All he ever said was work moved me a lot in that flat tone. That closed the door you decided not to knock on because you didn’t want to pry. It seemed polite at the time but now it was another piece that didn’t fit the others. And the not-knowing had teeth in the winter that it didn’t have in the summer. 

Under the mystery the old hurt crept back up your throat. Because whatever he was, whoever he was, whatever that car meant, he still hadn’t texted you. And now he’s fifteen feet away, all week, and you were going to have to look at that finished house every single time you walked to your own front door. 

⋆꙳·❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

When you walked inside it was filled with warmth and chaos. You noticed the christmas tree in the corner of the living room and the smell of food in the kitchen. Your dad got up from his chair to hug you and tell you that you looked thinner, which was probably true. Your sister, Dani, was there with the loudness of someone you didn’t see nearly enough and hugged you. Your niece attached herself to your leg and your nephew appeared with an expression of grave importance. He immediately began explaining a card game with rules that seemed to change as he described them. Everyone was loud but it was good, it was distracting enough. 

Your niece pulled you toward the couch to show you one of her toys and that’s when you noticed something was different. 

The living room was a different color. 

It had been painted beige your whole life. Now it was a soft gray-green. It was a nice color and it made the living room seem brighter. It almost looked like a color you would have picked yourself. 

“Hey, mom, when did you repaint the living room?” 

“Oh. You noticed!” Your mom was pleased, wiping her hands on a towel in the doorway. “Doesn’t it look nice? We’ve been meaning to do it for I don’t know how many years. Your father kept saying he’d get to it.” She said it fondly, the way she said most things about your father not getting to things. “That nice man next door offered to repaint it a few months ago, he said he had the ladders and drop cloths already from his own place. Wouldn’t take a cent for it. Did the whole room in one day.” She shook her head, still a little amazed by it. “Nicest thing. I made him a plate of dinner but he wouldn’t stay.” 

“That was nice of him,” you heard yourself say. 

“Very nice man.” Your mom went back toward the kitchen. “Keeps to himself, but very nice.” 

You stood in the middle of the living room with the paint job that your parents wanted for years, the room he had painted and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You were a little confused and it added to the list of things that didn’t fit the story you’d spent the last five months telling yourself. 

“It’s a great color, Mom,” you called and you let your niece pull you down onto the couch and show you her toy. 

It took you the better part of an hour to peel away and haul your bag up the stairs to your old room. 

It was the same as it always was. Your bed was still in the same spot and the same posters on the wall that you picked out in high school. The same window that looked out over the side yard and the corner of his house next door. You dropped your bag and sat on the edge of the bed. The noise of the family muffled through the floor and you were hit with a wave of sleepiness. 

You took out your phone and you told yourself you were just checking the time but your thumb was already going to your messages. You tapped on Leon’s name and scrolled up to the kitchen photo and the messages that made your face go warm. 

And then you scrolled back down to the bottom, the last message you sent that was still on delivered. 

You looked at the date. 

July 27. 

Then you noticed over the hedge and through your window, a light came on in the house next door. The kitchen light, warm and yellow in the blue dark. You turned your phone face-down on the quilt. You looked at the ceiling and told yourself, again, that it didn’t matter but it was getting harder to believe it. 

⋆꙳·❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

You woke up to the weight of your sister landing on the end of your bed and her voice way too loud for whatever time it was. 

“Up. Come on. The children have plans for you.” 

You cracked one eye open. The light peaking out from your window was gray, the kind of gray that usually meant fresh snow. Your sister was sitting on the foot of your bed already dressed and a cup of coffee in hand. She had a smug look on her face that looked like she had been awake for hours and intended to make it your problem. 

“What time is it?” 

“Late enough. Mason and Ellie want to build a snowman with you after breakfast. It’s very important. There’s apparently going to be a committee.” She sipped her coffee. “I told them you’d be thrilled.” 

“Sooo thrilled,” you said sarcastically into the pillow. 

“You sound thrilled.” She stood, then paused at the edge of the bed, and her voice dropped out of the teasing register into something lower. “Hey. You haven’t told Mom and Dad yet, right? About moving back?” 

You came a little more awake. “No. Have you?” 

“No, God, it’s not my business to tell them. I just didn’t want to walk into it blind if it came up.” She raised an eyebrow. “You’re still doing the whole—” 

“I want to tell them at Christmas dinner.” You sat up, scrubbing a hand over your face. “I’ve got the whole thing planned. I think it’ll be a good surprise.” 

Your sister smiled, softer now. “It is a good surprise,” she agreed. “They’re going to lose it. Mom’s going to cry into the potatoes.” She headed for the door. “Mom said breakfast will be ready in ten. Wear something you don’t mind getting wet, the committee has demands.” 

She left, and you sat there in bed with the thought of moving back warm in your chest. The job back east had run its course, and the new one started in March, and it was here. Not this town exactly but about thirty minutes from here. It was close enough to be home for real instead of twice a year. You’d been carrying this around for three weeks and Christmas dinner was going to be the moment you finally let everyone know. 

You didn’t in any of your planning, let yourself think about what it meant that “close enough to be home for real” was also close enough to a certain house, his house next door. 

You got up out of bed and put on thermals under an old pair of jeans, thick socks, and a chunky sweater you found in your childhood dresser that you’d left behind years ago. Not cute, exactly, but warm. 

⋆꙳·❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

Breakfast was laid out with eggs, bacon and your mom’s cinnamon rolls, the good ones she only made when everyone was home. Mason was explaining the snowman to anyone who’d listen. Ellie had syrup in her hair already. Your dad was reading something on his phone and making the small disapproving noises he usually made when watching the news. You were halfway through a cinnamon roll when your mom dropped the words in the middle of the table like it was nothing. 

“Oh. I invited the neighbor over for Christmas dinner. The nice man next door. He’s coming Christmas night.” 

You put your fork down. 

“What?” The words coming out sharper than you meant. “Why?” 

Your mom blinked at you, mildly surprised. “Why? Because it’s the right thing to do. He’s over there all by himself, that whole big house, no family that I’ve ever seen come by. And after he did the living room for free, I wasn’t going to just let the man eat a sad dinner alone on Christmas.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, because to her it was. “It seemed lonely. He seemed lonely. So I asked, and he said yes.” 

He said yes. Of course he did. He’d say yes to your mother in a heartbeat. He’d paint the walls and come for Christmas, apparently, everything except message you back. 

“Well,” you said, aiming for light and landing somewhere short of it, “I’m sure that’s his choice.” 

There was a small pause. Your sister glanced at you. Your dad looked up from his phone. Even your mom paused, her head tilting a fraction, and you felt the whole table register that the temperature had shifted a couple of degrees for reasons none of them could see.

"...Right," your mom said slowly. "It is his choice. That's generally how invitations work."

“I just mean it’s nice,” you said, picking your fork back up. “It’s nice of you.” 

Your sister was still looking at you but you didn’t look back at her. 

Mason, gloriously oblivious, chose that moment to announce that the snowman committee would be convening in the front yard in fifteen minutes and that your attendance was mandatory. The kids moved on from the table and you got up too. But you could still feel your sister filing what you said away and you knew that at some point today you were going to have a conversation you weren’t ready for. 

You also knew on Christmas night. Leon would be here, at this table, three days from now and you didn’t know what you were going to do. 

But for now there was a snowman that needed to be made, and its demands would not wait. 

⋆꙳·❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

The front yard was untouched with a clean sheet of snow. It was about six inches deep and glittering. The whole street was quiet the way it does after it snows. Mason took charge immediately, assigning roles with the authority of a small general: you were on base duty, Ellie was on head, he would supervise and handle “the important parts,” which remained undefined. 

You didn’t mind though, you crouched in your mom’s too big coat and showed Mason how to roll the base so it picked up more snow as it went. Ellie was patting a lopsided lump between her mittens with tremendous dedication and no discernible technique. Your breath came out in clouds. Somewhere down the block someone was scraping the ice off the windshield of their car. 

The snowman came together into something that was, mostly, snowman-shaped. It leaned slightly to the right. It had two rocks as eyes at slightly different heights, which gave it a permanently skeptical expression, and Ellie insisted on donating her scarf, which she would absolutely want back within the hour. The three of you stood back to admire it and it held and it was genuinely the ugliest snowman you’d ever helped build. You loved it a little bit. 

“It needs arms,” Mason said gravely. 

“It does need arms. Go find sticks.” 

He went, with Ellie following after him because Ellie usually went wherever Mason went. You crouched there for a second alone beside your terrible snowman, hands cold and breath fogging. You let yourself just be in it with the quiet as you watched the kids gather the sticks. 

Then you heard a loud bark in the distance. 

You recognized that bark before you turned around. You wished you didn’t but some part of your brain had somehow catalogued that exact bark and never let it go. Your stomach dropped a full second before the fluffy tan-and-white blur came running through the snow. You had just enough time to think oh no before the dog hit the snowman at a dead sprint. 

It exploded. There was no other word for it. The head fell one way to the ground and the scarf went another and the skeptical rock eyes vanished into the powder. The dog barreled straight through the wreckage and into you. Sixty-some pounds of pure fluff, both front paws in the snow at your feet and his whole back half wagging so hard he could barely keep them there. 

Ellie shrieked and Mason shrieked louder, delighted, the snowman instantly forgotten in favor of the vastly superior dog. You were down on one knee in the snow with the dog’s tongue across your jaw, you started laughing despite yourself, hands full of cold fur and your heart doing something complicated. 

“Hey,” You said to him with a soft voice. “Hey, buddy. Look at you. You’ve gotten so fluffy.” 

He remembered you. He shouldn’t have but he was pressed into you like no time had passed, whining, trying to get close, and you buried your face in the ruff of his neck for a second longer than you needed to. You knew it was easier than looking up because you knew what was coming next. 

“Buddy. Hey, hey.” 

Leon was jogging toward you, with no coat, gray henley, jeans and boots. He’d clearly shoved on in a hurry. He pulled up short about ten feet away when he saw you, and he just.. Stopped. The dog didn’t care about any of it, if anything, the dog was in heaven. But the two of you looked at each other across ten feet of trampled snow and a demolished snowman, and every easy thing you’d never even got to rehearse went straight out of your head. 

Leon looked good. It was unfair and it was the first thing you noticed. A little more gray at the temples than July, maybe, or maybe you’d softened the memory. The same pale blue eyes. The same way of going still and reading a situation before he committed to it. But now you knew that stillness wasn’t calm, and you watched him do the math of you, here, in the snow, in front of him, and arrive somewhere that made his jaw tighten. 

“Hi,” he said. 

Five months of nothing. And hi. 

“Hi,” you said back. 

The dog looked between you both, thrilled, certain this was the greatest thing that had ever happened to anyone. Behind you Ellie was already demanding to know the dog’s name, and Mason was informing her that the snowman looked “way better now,” and the cold was getting into your knees where you knelt in the snow. 

"He, uh." He gestured at the ruined snowman, at the general catastrophe, and something that wasn't quite a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "Sorry about your—" 

“Snowman?” 

“Yeah. Buddy.” Leon snapped his fingers. “Come.” 

“Buddy?” You questioned. 

“...Yeah.” There was a hesitation before it, small but there, like the name cost him something to say out loud in front of you. It caught you off guard but you didn’t know why. 

And that hesitation, for whatever reason, was the thing that tipped the irritation over in you. 

“You know,” you said, and your voice came out cold, “you really should get him a collar if he’s going to keep running out like this. And maybe keep a better eye on him.” 

You watched the way he took it and didn’t flinch. He didn’t defend himself either, because he knew as well as you did that you weren’t really talking about the dog. 

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I should.” 

He didn’t argue and that was almost worse. You wanted him to push back, to give you something to actually be angry at and instead he stood there in the snow and agreed with you. 

You brushed the snow off your knees and stood.

“You kids want some hot chocolate?” 

Your mom’s voice carried across the yard from the front porch completely oblivious. You turned to see her standing in the doorway in her slippers with a dish towel over her shoulder, beaming out at the snow like the whole scene was a Christmas card she’d staged herself. Her eyes landed on Leon and lit up. 

“Oh. Leon! I didn’t see you out here. Perfect, come in, I was just about to make some hot chocolate for the kids. You’re coming for Christmas anyway, might as well start now.” She said it the way she did everything, like it was already decided and it utterly irritated you. 

You watched him navigate her question. You watched him want to say no. His weight shifted with the polite decline already on the tip of his tongue and you watched him bite it. 

Mason and Ellie were gone, thundering past him, Buddy chasing after them playfully into the chaos. 

“I don’t want to impose,” Leon said. 

“You painted my living room, you’re not imposing.” Your mom was already turning back inside. "Come on, before it gets cold. Bring the dog, the kids'll love him." 

Bring the dog, the kids’ll love him. Those were the exact words you’d said to him in July, at his own front door. It landed in your chest like a stone dropped down a well, and when you glanced at Leon he was already looking at you like he remembered it too. For a second neither of you had anywhere but each other to put your eyes and then he looked away. 

“Yeah,” he said to your mom. “Okay. Thanks.” 

⋆꙳·❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

The kitchen felt stifling hot and you were losing your mind. 

Your mom had Leon sitting at the dining room table with a steaming mug of hot chocolate pressed into his hands with the determination of a woman who considered a lonely neighbor a personal project. The kids had gone feral. Mason had claimed the chair beside Leon and wouldn’t stop talking about Buddy exploding the snowman. Ellie had abandoned the table entirely for Buddy on the floor. 

“What kind of dog is he?” Mason demanded. 

“He’s some kind of shepherd.” Leon said. “The shelter wasn’t sure. Could be a little bit of everything.” 

“Can he do tricks?”

“He can sit. When he feels like it. Which isn’t very often.” 

“Buddy!” Mason spun in his chair. “Buddy, sit!” 

Buddy was sprawled across the kitchen floor on his back with Ellie hugging him. He, of course, did not sit. He thumped his tail against the cabinet and wriggled deeper into the attention, one back leg kicking as Ellie found a good spot behind his ear. He looked like the most content dog in the world. 

“He’s not sitting,” Mason reported. 

Ellie had both arms around the dog’s neck now, her face buried into his fur. “He’s so soft,” she informed everyone. “He’s the softest dog. I love him. Can we keep him?”

“No sweetie, he’s not ours,” your mom said, delighted. “But I’m sure Leon will let you visit.” 

“Buddy can come to my birthday,” Ellie decided. Buddy licked her cheek and shrieked with joy. Mason immediately demanded the dog to lick his cheek too. 

“Alright, alright. Buddy.” Leon didn’t raise his voice and snapped his fingers once. “Come here. Sit.” 

He got up off the floor, trotted around the table, and sat down at Leon’s feet. 

“How did you do that,” Mason said in an amazed tone. 

“He likes to make me look good in front of company.” Leon scratched behind the dog's ears. “Don’t get used to it, kid. He’ll be back to ignoring me by dinner.”

Leon watched the kids with that look you remembered. Like a man enjoying the warmth of a fire from just a little further back than everyone else. But this time there was something softer in it, like the distance had shrunk.

And that’s where your brain left the room. 

You tried to be normal. But instead you were floating about a foot outside your own body, leaned against the counter with your hot chocolate you haven’t been drinking, watching Leon get along with everyone like he belonged here. The sound of everyone went muffled and far away. 

“And you remember Leon, honey, from the Fourth of July, right?” 

You were a thousand miles off with the question sailing clean past you. 

“Honey.” 

You finally perked up. 

“Yeah.” You paused. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” Leon said back, just as carefully. The two of you performed acquaintances so hard the air went stiff with it.

Across the table your sister’s eyes moved from you, to Leon, and back to you. 

Your mom’s brow twitched. “You okay, hon?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

“You sure? You seem a little—” 

“I’m fine, Mom.” 

She glanced at your untouched mug. “Is the hot chocolate bad? I think I might’ve put too much milk—” 

“No. It’s fine. It’s good.” You made yourself take a sip to prove it. 

Ellie, meanwhile, had gotten up to follow Buddy around the table. She dropped back down beside him to bury her hands in his fur again. She petted him with the intense, wobbling focus of a five-year-old, and then in the way small children have no filter, she looked up at Leon and asked: 

“Do you have a wife?” 

“Ellie.” Your sister put a hand over her eyes. 

But Leon just huffed, unbothered with that quiet almost-laugh. “No,” he said. “No wife.” 

“Why not?” 

“Ellie. Oh my god.” Your sister reached over and pulled Ellie to her side. “You can’t just — we don’t ask people that.” 

“It’s alright.” Leon was still faintly amused, still scratching the dog. 

Ellie, apparently done with her interview, reached up to the kitchen table and grabbed a marshmallow out of the open bag. She ran to the other side of Leon to feed it to the dog. 

“Ellie, no—” You pushed off the counter, moving toward her. “He can’t have that, that’s not for—” 

“He can’t have those,” Leon said at the same moment, reaching for her little fist. “They’re not good for him.” 

And your hands met over Ellie’s hand. 

It was just a graze. His fingers over the back of yours for a quarter of a second. You pulled your hand back, not in a dramatic way, but you felt it go all the way up your arm and settle hot somewhere behind your ribs. When you glanced up he was already looking at you. 

Your sister saw it and you knew it. 

“Okay, no marshmallows for the dog,” you said, too briskly, prying the squashed marshmallow out of Ellie’s fingers. “Buddy can’t have those, they’re bad for him.” 

“He can have a piece of cookie later,” Leon offered Ellie in a soft tone. “The plain part. No chocolate, chocolate’s bad for dogs. But a little bit of the plain part, that’s okay.” 

“Okay,” Ellie agreed and went back to loving the dog with her whole body.

You walked back to the kitchen with the squished marshmallow and threw it away. 

Mason, who had been quietly assembling something at the table, slapped a battered deck of cards down in front of Leon. 

“Do you know how to play Kessel?” 

Leon looked at the cards. “I don’t think so. Is that a real game?” 

“It’s my game,” Mason said. “I’ll teach you. It’s easy.” He was already dealing and slapping the cards down in uneven piles. “You have to get three of the same cards but not the same color, unless you have a wild, then it’s four, and you can’t look at the middle ones until someone says go.” He pointed at you without looking up. “You’re playing too. We need three people.” 

“Oh, I don’t—” 

“You’re playing,” Mason said as authoritatively as a seven-year-old kid can be.

You sat down across from Leon and Mason was sitting next to you. The card game rules seemed to change based on Mason’s needs at any given moment, while Ellie narrated from the floor. Your mom refilled everyone’s cocoa and pretended she wasn’t watching the whole thing like a hawk. 

“Okay, go,” Mason announced. 

You picked up your cards. You had no idea what you were doing and neither, blessedly, did Leon. 

“So I need three that match,” Leon said, slowly, studying his hand, “but not the same color.” 

“Unless you have a wild.” 

“What do the wilds look like?” 

“They’re the ones with the star. Or the moon. Not the sun, the sun ones are worth negative.” Mason said like it was obvious, like Leon was being deliberately slow. “Do you have a moon?” 

“I have a —” Leon turned a card around. “Is this a moon?” 

“That’s a sun.” 

“They look identical, Mason.” You chimed in. 

“They do not.” Mason was scandalized and Ellie from the floor told Leon he was “Very bad at this,” and Leon accepted the critique with grace. And you laughed before you could stop yourself.

Leon glanced up at the sound of it. Something a little wistful crossed his face before he looked down at his impossible hand. You felt the laugh die in your throat as you remembered, all over again, that you were supposed to be angry with him. 

You picked up another card that was a sun and it was worth negative something. You had, apparently, already lost. 

“You’re bad at this too,” Mason informed you. 

“Yeah,” You said, smiling at Mason. “Yeah, I guess I am.” 

The game wound down with Mason declaring himself the winner and no one argued. 

Your mom took the moment to refill Leon’s mug one more time. 

“So, Leon. What is it you do? For work, I mean. You’ve got that lovely car, we were all wondering.” She laughed lightly. “You’re not a bank robber, are you?” 

It was meant as a joke, an easy question to fill the strange air. 

“I, uh.” He turned the mug in his hands. “I worked for the government. For a while.” A beat. “It’s — complicated. Retired now, mostly.” 

Government. You filed him saying government next to the Porsche and everything else that didn’t fit. The pile getting taller. 

“Well,” Your mom said smiling. “We’re glad you ended up next door.” 

Leon didn’t stay much longer after that. He read the room and read you, probably. He finished his cocoa and thanked your mom. Told the kids to take good care of Buddy for him. He was gracious and easy. 

Your mom walked him out to the door, chattering about Christmas, told him to not bring anything, just himself. And at the door, Leon paused and his eyes found you across the kitchen. There was something in them, like he wanted to tell you something before deciding not to. All he said was:

“See you Christmas.” 

He stepped out to the front porch with Buddy reluctantly following him. 

The door shut and the whole house was quiet. 

Your mom and sister looked at each other then at you. 

“I’m going upstairs,” you announced. You set your mug down in the sink and fled with both of them watching you go the whole way back up. 

⋆꙳·❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

You didn’t even get to sit down on your bed before your door opened. 

“Okay.” Your sister came in and shut it behind her, hot chocolate still in hand. “What was that.” 

“What was what.” 

“Oh, come on.” She leaned against the door. “The energy between you and Leon was weird as fuck.” She paused. “You know him.” 

“I– it’s complicated.” 

“Tell me.” She sat her drink down on your dresser and sat down on the end of your bed, pulling one leg up under her. “Go on.” 

So you told her all of it. The dog. The barbecue. The fireworks. How easy he’d been to be around. And the part where you went home with him at the end of the night, and what that turned into.

“Shut up.” Her hand flew up over her mouth. “In July? And you didn’t tell me!” 

“I didn’t think it was a whole thing.” 

“It clearly is a whole thing.”  She was grinning now, delighted, leaning in. “I can’t believe you hooked up with the hot mystery neighbor! I have to say, sis–” she nodded slowly. “I’m kind of impressed. I didn’t think you had it in you.” 

“Hey!” You swatted her arm. 

“Ow!” She laughed, rubbing it. 

“You’re such a bitch sometimes.” 

“I know. But you love me.” She bumped her shoulder into yours. 

You looked down at your hands and started picking a loose thread on the quilt. You felt the grin fade off your face.

“I kind of wish we didn’t hook up.” You said, almost whispering. 

The laugh went out of her. You felt her shift beside you, turning to actually look at you. 

“Wait.” Her voice dropped. “What do you mean?” 

“He– we texted for like three weeks after I went back home. Pretty much every day. And then he just—” You hesitated. “He ghosted me.” 

“Oh.” A beat. ” Shit. Really?” 

“Mhm.” Your throat did something and you swallowed it down. You wound the thread tighter around your finger. “I thought it was going somewhere. Stupid me.” 

“Hey. No.” Dani reached over and put a hand on your knee. When you finally glanced up at her, her face had gone soft. She held your eyes for a second. “That’s — okay, that’s weird. That’s not a fun-summer-fling thing.” She frowned. “But men are weird. And he’s older, right?”

“Yeah.” You wiped a tear under your eye with the heel of your hand. ” What does that have to do with anything?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe he got in his head about the age gap and freaked out.” She said it gently, offering it to you like it might help. 

“Maybe.” 

“Look, I’m just guessing, I have no idea what his deal is.” She leaned back on her hands, watching you. ”But I saw the way he looked at you today. He’s still into you. That much I’d put money on.” 

“That’s the whole problem.” You gave the thread a final tug and it snapped loose in your fingers. “I’m still mad at him and I still want him, at the same time. I just wish he’d tell me why he stopped.” 

“He’ll be here in a couple days.” She reached over and pulled a piece of hair out of your face. “So ask him.” She held your gaze. “And for what it’s worth. I don’t think him ghosting you is what you think it is.” 

You looked out the window instead of her. 

“It still doesn’t change what he did.” 

“No.”  She stood, gathering her mug off the dresser. “It doesn’t. But talking to him’s the only way you’ll find out. So talk to him.” Dani smiled and pulled you into a quick hug, then headed for the door. “And you have to tell me everything he says, immediately.” 

The door clicked shut behind her. 

I don’t think him ghosting you is what you think it is. 

You didn’t want to sit in that. And you for sure didn’t want him to be weirded out by the age gap, though at least that would be a reason. A real one, even if it didn’t matter to you in the way it apparently mattered to him. You could live with he thought he was too old. You’d braced yourself for something like this since July. It was almost comforting, in a bleak way, to have your sister hand you an explanation that made him a nervous man and not a cruel one. 

But it didn’t make it hurt any less. 

You took off your socks and lay back on top of the quilt. The exhaustion from all of the events of the day had worn you out. You thought just for a minute you were going to lie down. But something about the snow falling softly outside and the familiar sounds of your family below made you fall asleep completely. 

You slept, and you didn’t know for how long. Long enough that the gray sky outside had gone dark. 

Then you felt a hard buzz just inches from your head and the loud ding made you jolt awake, heart going before your eyes were open. Your hand fumbled for the phone. The screen was bright in your dark room and you squinted at the words. 

Leon - 1 new message

[zawija]

He has NO right to look this handsome 😩

[halbravd]

[k3nnedygirl]

Spring break with dbsf!Leon

✦ tags! @mommafirefly666 and @mellbluee ✦ smut n fluff-ish?, age gap, older leon, poorly proofread so pls ignore mistakes

You press your bag against your chest while you check your phone nervously waiting for Leon to text you. You barely register the words your mom tells you.

¨It’s good you’re going out this spring break, especially after that nasty breakup.¨ She says as she sets down her coffee mug on the small table in front of you.  

¨Yes, mom.¨ You say as you check your empty notification screen. 

¨I think it will do you well. Being outside in that house near the lake with your friend.¨ She continues as she leans forward to you. ¨It will keep your mind busy.¨

You nod and smile at her. You check your screen once again. Nothing. 

You told your parents you were spending your spring break with a friend, lying to them when in reality you’re going to spend it with your dad’s best friend, Leon, who you’ve known your entire life but only started to fall for him in your first college year, right after his divorce which felt like the universe blessed you right then and there. 

After his divorce, he started getting bulkier and bulkier, hitting the gym with your dad everyday for almost 3 hours. Every shirt he’d put on only made his biceps look even more delicious, and every jean made his thigh look more rideable.

Every now and then you’ve been flirting with him; a small peek on the cheek, way too close to his mouth, placing your hand on his inner thigh as you laugh, exposing more and more yourself every time you had the opportunity to without it being too obvious. That didn’t go unnoticed by Leon, who actually enjoys looking at a cute little thing like you, trying so hard to get his attention. 

Hence why his head would twitch to the side when you gave him kiss on the cheek, kissing you briefly. His eyes following the soft flesh of your breast every time you revealed your collarbone to him.

Until finally, you’d find yourself with your back pressed against the cold wall of your room as you made out with him while your family watched some movie downstairs. 

But that’s about it, you’ve only ever made out with Leon and that was only one time.

So when your boyfriend broke up with you… It didn’t bother you. It did, but not as much as Leon kept being around after.

Your dad finishes making his coffee, he adds some sugar and twirls the spoon as he turns around to face your mother and you. Your phone chimes softly. 

¨I’m here.¨ from : Leon.

You get up from the couch placing your bag over your shoulder.

¨Don’t worry, honey. You know you can always call us if you feel upset.¨ He takes a sip of his coffee, his face twisting at the bitterness. ¨Or you can even call Leon. Maybe he’ll understand you best.¨ 

You don’t look at him as you answer both; your dad and Leon. 

¨Yeah, dad. I know.¨ You tell him as you write down ´on my way.´

You put away your phone in the small pocket of your shorts as you kiss your mom and father rapidly. 

¨I gotta go now.¨ You say as you open the door. ¨See you in a week!¨

You walk down a few blocks, spotting Leon’s black Porsche with the parking lights still on as he rests against the driver’s door. His eyes following you from across the street as your pace fastens until you’re standing in front of him. 

You offer him your bag with a playful smile across your face. 

¨Didn’t your father teach you any manners?¨ He jokes before taking your bag. He thought it’d be heavier but it’s actually quite light. He tosses it on the trunk.

You both step inside the car, and the moment you do you kiss him sweetly, cupping his cheek as he leans forward to deepen the kiss. 

¨Hi, Leon.¨ You pull away for a second. 

¨Now that’s how you greet me sweetheart.¨ Leon kisses you again, he breathes out the moment his lips meet yours again, this time a bit harder. 

The road ahead is crowded and loud. The sky is orange and the breeze is nice against your skin. Leon looks up ahead as he sighs softly. His house is not that far away from yours, barely 20 minutes away, but being the Friday before spring break the traffic is horrible. 

His hand rests over your knee as the other taps against the steering wheel at the beat of the soft music coming out from the radio. He glances at you briefly, as you text your friend, thanking her for taking a bullet for you. 

¨Your dad tells me you’ve been upset about your breakup.¨ Leon says, making you lift your head from your phone and look at him. ¨But I don’t see you upset at all.¨

¨Of course not. He was an idiot.¨ You laugh as you lock your phone and placing it between your thighs. 

¨Yeah?¨ Leon tilts his head. ¨How so.¨ 

¨The relationship ended waaay before he broke up with me.¨  Leon doesn’t interrupt. ¨Like he just stopped trying, you know?¨ You nod as you continue. ¨He stopped planning dates, noticing things… ¨ You say as you count with your fingers. ¨ And… while we had… you know. It was quick and he barely even touched me. It felt like there was something wrong with me.¨ This last sentence comes out quieter than the rest.

¨There’s nothing wrong with you, baby.¨ Leon’s voice is calm and certain. Almost like he’s seen it way too many times before in this time and age. 

¨I know.¨ Your words made Leon look up at you slightly confused. ¨Everytime I looked at you, I knew there was nothing wrong with me.¨ You smile softly at him, the confession slipping from your lips like you just confessed a sin. 

His brief glances while he came to pick your dad up for work, or spending the evening with some coffee while talking to your parents were a constant reminder that you were desirable, completely desirable for him.

Leon doesn’t say anything after, he just locks eyes with you, his beautiful baby. He hand comes up your chin, squeezing it gently before he tugs a rebel strand of hair behind your ear.

Leon throws your naked body onto his huge king sized bed, his body pressing against yours as he grabs your chin to kiss you deeply. Your lips meet his in a desperate dance, you both pant at the need of feeling each other becomes way too much to even think of anything else. You open your legs and he positions between them, but he has other plans. 

You gasp when he pulls away, your chest falling up and down rapidly as you get some air. Leon sits down on his bed, jerking himself off as he speaks. 

¨You’re on top.¨ He says with a playful smirk, the movement of his hand going up and down his hard cock making a wet noise. 

¨A-Are you sure?¨ You as you get up on your fours, making your way to him.

¨Yeah. You’ve never been on top?¨ 

You shake your head as you position one knee against the mattress and your feet on the other side, next to Leon’s hip.

Leon grabs his cock, tapping it gently against your soaked folds. He then rubs it, up and down your wet labia. 

¨Just play with it before you slide down, baby.¨ You grab his cock. ¨You’re so wet, it’ll be easy.¨

You pant gently as you rub Leon’s tip around your clit and pussy lips, squelching as his tip opens them up. You smear some of your juices around his tip and length as your saliva from the blowjob you gave him earlier on his couch was starting to dry out. 

Your fingers part your lips as you sink down his cock, groaning at the sweet stretch that you swear could make you cum immediately. You throw your head back and moan loudly once he’s fully deep inside you, his tip gently resting on your cervix

¨Oh fuuuuck.¨ You moan and look back to Leon with half lidded eyes and a playful smirk. The fingers you use to part your lips open moves to add some pressure on your clit as you rub small circles rapidly, making you shiver. ¨Shit. It’s so deep.¨

Leon’s shoulder blades rest against the bed frame as one of his hands rests over your thigh and the other on your knee, the one you flexed to open your entrance. 

He licks his lips at the sight of your exposed sex; puffy clit because of his mouth sucking it earlier, and glossy lips. He groans when you sink down, your gummy walls clenching around him tightly. The sight of your pussy devouring his cock only makes him squeeze the tender skin of your thigh as he bites is lip, trying his best to not lock your hips in place and fuck you dummy.

You move your leg back to the bed as your hands come over to his chest seeking some support as you start to rock your hips gently back and forth while you adjust to his thickness and length. 

¨Fuck- You feel so tight, princess.¨ He groans as the palm of his hand meets the soft skin of your bubbly butt with a loud ´smack´

You laugh breathlessly as a moan tries to escape your lips at the fullness sensation inside of you as you rock your hips faster and the spark his skin caressing your clit gently causes.

 ¨It’s-It’s too much.¨ 

You lean forward, licking Leon’s lower lip before capturing them in a hungry and lustful kiss. He finds it hard to keep up with your pace, as your lips move against his with no coordination whatsoever, making the kiss completely sloppy. Your lips capture his lower lip, sucking them gently. You moan against his mouth before capturing it again, this time with your teeth.

You pull them gently as your hands move to his neck. You adjust your hips and body as you start to bounce up and down his length making your moan. You let go of his lower lip as your hips meet his at a fast speed as the pleasure starts to build up on your stomach fast every time you sink back down.

Leon has no complaints at how you enjoy yourself with him, he’s letting you do whatever you want or need to reach your high. He loves seeing you explore your body with him. He’s just happy to be there. 

¨Yeaah, baby. Just like that.¨ His hand comes up to the nape of your neck, lowering you to his shoulder as he talks. ¨You feel so good.¨ He groans, he’s unable to swallow his little sounds as your pussy hugs his cock with a delicious warmth and the perfect tightness.

You grab his big biceps for support. As you moan at the pleasure that now sits heavily on your abdomen, as his tip hits your cervix repeatedly, spreading down to your core.

You pull away from Leon’s chest, now resting your hands on his thighs, right behind you. Leon’s big hands come down to your butt, squeezing the tender skin of your cheeks as you keep going up and down his dick, the loud slap of your bodies meeting against each other makes you roll your eyes back. Leon groans at how your breast bounce right in front of his face.

Your tangy juices coat his cock. Adorning his base with a white creamy ring, growing thicker every time you go down on his length.

You notice the way his eyes spark with lust at your bouncing tits, you bite your lip as both your hands come up to squeeze your tits together your pace slows gently. 

¨You like my tits, Daddy?¨ You ask innocently, squeezing them together tighter.

¨Very much.¨ He admits, placing his hands on your upper back pulling you closer to him. Your breasts right in front of his mouth. 

Leon lays down on the bed completely as his mouth latches on with a low groan as he sucks in deeply like a starved man, only he can keep back for so long. His tongue circling and devouring every inch of your nipple. 

You gasp at his restless tongue, placing your hands to the pillow, on each side of his head. 

His hips move up, thrusting into you as he fucks you now mercilessly. The knot on his stomach begins to twist painfully as his orgasm is close.

¨Yes, Leon.¨ You gasp as he finds the perfect speed and that pleasurable spot he keeps hitting repeatedly. ¨Fuck my pussy.¨ 

He groans against your skin. He sucks your nipple one last time before it leaves his mouth with a soft ´pop´. 

His pace is devastating, making you shake as the pleasure builds up uncontrollably fast. You close your eyes and arch your back at the heat pulsating right in your core.

Leon doesn’t stop, recognizing instantly that you’re about to orgasm. He groans when he feels you squeezing your walls around him, trying to delay your orgasm as much as you can but that only pushes you more to the edge. 

You don’t want it to end, it’s way too good. Your mind is completely clouded with pleasure.

¨Don’t hold back, angel.¨

¨I’m- I’m not-¨ You shake on his arms as you hold onto his biceps, squeezing them as your stomach twists and your abdomen clenches. ¨Fuck.¨ You clench your pelvic muscles harder, trying your best to hold on a little longer. 

You squirm and shut your eyes, leaning back as you place your hands on his chest, not really knowing what to do with yourself as your mind spins in pleasure, as he breathes harshly. The way you clench around him only pushes him closer and closer to his release as his breathing catches.

Tears form at the side of your eyes as the overstimulation you’re giving yourself becomes too much. 

 ¨Leon…¨ His name comes out of your mouth tirelessly. ¨I’m cumming.¨ You say as you feel lightheaded at the pleasure cracking through you. 

Your body can’t take more and your orgasm crushes against you, making you arch your back forward as your thighs begin to shake violently as your pussy spams with pleasure. 

You almost scream the bliss striking through your body. You scratch Leon’s chest while you keep repeating ´fuck´ during your high.

Your spams makes Leon cum as well, his cock twitching inside of you as his white seed coats your walls, filling you up deliciously. He groans as he keeps fucking you through out his orgasm. 

Thank God you’re on the pill. 

Once he’s done, he pulls your hips up, making his still hard cock rest over his abdomen as some drops of semen fall from your pussy to his balls, his thigh and his bed sheets.

You moan at the loss of contact and shiver as his fingers come inside you, pushing his cum inside of you. His fingers come up to your mouth for you to lick clean, your lips capture his fingers, the dangy taste of both your juices instantly makes you groan against his fingers.

¨Such a good girl.¨ He grabs your neck gently, pulling you closer to him before he kisses you slowly and sweetly.

¨I love you, Leon.¨ You mutter against his lips before kissing him again as your breathing starts to fasten. 

¨Me too, baby.¨ He says before pressing your lips with his, moving them slowly against yours. His hands come up and down your arched back as you melt into him.

Your body feels heavy as you place your head on Leon’s chest, hearing his heartbeat as he calms down and his breathing even outs. He kisses the top of your head sweetly and with that you fall asleep.

The next day starts slowly. 

You’re curled in the sheets with Leon as you trail circles over his chest absentmindedly, noticing the mark of your nails of last night. He kisses your forehead as his hand comes up and down your side from over the blanket.

He reaches to the nightstand with one hand as he groans at the subtle old-man pain of his shoulder. He checks the time on his digital clock. 8:12 AM.

¨I gotta go to work, baby.¨ 

You huff, as the hand caressing his chest wraps around his waist in an attempt to keep him in place.  

¨No.¨ 

¨I do.¨ 

¨I won’t let you.¨ You crawl on top of him, your arms wrapping around his neck. 

¨You know I can carry you.¨ 

¨No you can’t¨ 

You gasp when Leon gets up easily with you wrapped around him, you lock your legs around his waist, trying not to fall. He walks around the room as he massages your butt. 

¨I can.¨ 

¨Ok-OK! Let me down.¨ You giggle as he starts rummaging his closet. 

¨You underestimate me, sweetheart.¨

You sigh dramatically as you sink to the side of his neck. You lean in, almost like you were about to plant a sweet kiss there. He smiles and moves his neck to the side, shivering at your breath against his skin. 

You clamp the soft skin between your lips, sucking it gently as you breathe out a whine. Leon pauses mid step, humming at the way you pull his sweet spot. 

¨Baby.¨ 

¨Mmh?¨ You say you continue sucking, your flat tongue lapping the red mark starting to appear on his skin. 

¨I know what you’re doing.¨ 

¨I have no idea what you’re talking about.¨ 

¨Alright. I don’t need more hickeys.¨ Leon laughs softly as he walks to the bed.

With an impossible gentleness he places you in the middle of the bed. His hand comes up to brush away your messy morning hair from your face before he kisses you sweetly. 

¨I’ll be home by lunch.¨

Leon sighs at the sound of the coffee machine as the smell of coffee fills his nose. People around the DSO walk in groups as they gossip, others walk alone with phones in their hands as they type or talk. 

Leon’s tie sits loosely around his neck, the top of his shirt is unbuttoned. He walks to his office through the crowd of people before a familiar voice makes him stop on his tracks.

¨Leon!¨ Your father calls out as he walks up to him with a few papers in hand.

Leon stills as he swallows hard before clenching his jaw and turning around to face your dad. He tries his best to act cool, but he’s failing hard.

¨Hey, man.¨ Leon greets him. 

¨Whats up. You got that emergency call, too?¨ Leon nods.

¨Yesterday.¨

Your dad frowns his eyebrows, looking at Leon closely. 

¨Are those… Hickeys?¨ He asks, narrowing his eyes as he points at Leon’s neck. 

Leon feels his stomach drop to the ground and his palms start to get sweaty. He laughs nervously.

¨Did you finally go on a date after your divorce?¨ Your father claps loudly. ¨Congratulations, man. It’s been so long.¨ 

Leon’s shoulders come down as he almost lets out a relieved sigh. He shakes his head, trying to calm down. 

¨Yeah. Finally.¨ 

You’re curled up on Leon’s uncomfortable leather couch, only the few pillows and blanket you placed around you make it midly comfortable, as you scroll through your phone. 

The front door opens and Leon drops his keys to the small glass bowl on the small table next to the door. He looks completely defeated from work, after having to talk with your dad about his fake date. 

You look up from your phone and you make your way to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you stand on your tippy toes. You kiss him softly as you grab the black jacket of his suit, your strawberry gloss flavour coats his lips making it easier to move your lips against each other’s.

¨Miss me?¨ Leon pulls away as he looks down at you.

¨A little.¨ You admit, grabbing your hands from behind your back. 

¨Cute. Come here.¨ He leans again, pressing a quick kiss against your sticky lips. 

You smile at him, soft pink color tainting your cheeks before you turn around and sit back down on the couch. 

¨You told your dad you were spending the week with a friend?¨ 

¨Yeah?¨ You tilt your head to the side.

¨To a house at the lake.¨

¨I didn’t know what else to say… You know I’m bad at lying.¨ You excuse yourself as you bring your hands up in defeat.

¨Your dad noticed the hickeys.¨ Leon changes the subject of the conversation entirely.

Silence falls in the living room. Your heart drops to the floor as you turn around to look at Leon. 

¨… Was he… Mad?¨ Leon sighs, walking up to the couch to sit next to you. 

¨He didn’t figure it out.¨

¨Thank God…¨ You breathe out, your body almost collapsing back to the couch at the way it relaxes. ¨Then why do you look like that.¨

¨Because I had to come up with a fake date.¨ You laugh at his words. Leon stands up, walking toward the hallway.

¨Wait. Where are you going.¨

¨Grab your bag.¨

¨Why?¨

¨We are leaving.¨

¨Leaving where?¨

¨To my house on the lake.¨ You just stare at Leon when he stops in the middle of the hallway. 

¨You own a lake house?¨

Leon nods at you before he smiles and disappears into the bedroom.

The week goes by extremely fast with Leon at the small wooden lake house he owns, it’s small but really cozy. The small house porch right in front of the lake with a small hammock you’ve snapped plenty of pictures of Leon sleeping there or simply reading something on his phone. 

You lean forward, pressing your forearms at the wooden bench as the night sky above you grows darker and darker. The lights inside the house and porch help you see the calm waters of the lake as the last rays of sun reflect on its surface. 

Leon’s arms come from behind, wrapping your waist as he presses his chest against your back. He places soft kisses at the exposed skin of your shoulder. You sigh, feeling melancholic at all the activities you both did during the week: 

Skipping stones on the first day, Leon insisted he remembers how to do it. He throws one and fails miserably, you laugh so hard you had to rest your hands on your knees. 

¨I thought you said you were good.¨ 

¨I was.¨

¨When?¨

¨1998th…¨

Picnic date after walking around the immense forest for hours. You forgot plates so you both eat the sandwiches straight from the wrapping paper while sitting on a rock. Birds and wildlife soon surrounded you. 

During that walk through the forest, a young couple with a golden retriever was around too, often crossing paths with both of you. Of course you had to pet the golden bear in front of you as he licks your face happily and his tail wiggles in excitement. Leon kneels to scratch behind his ears. 

¨I LOVE HIM SO MUCHHH.¨ You tell Leon, squeezing the dog’s cheeks.

¨Vanilla!¨ The owner calls out for the dog and Vanilla runs towards them. ¨Sorry guys!¨

¨We have to go back home tomorrow.¨ He mutters against your cold skin, snapping you back to reality.

¨I know… I don’t want to.¨ 

¨Me neither. But I promise to take you here again.¨

¨I loved it here.¨ You admit, straightening your back as he keeps his arms locked around your body. ¨It felt nice to stop pretending for once.¨ 

Leon hums when your hand tangles on his hair. He ghosts your cheek with his nose and you move it, giving him more space to kiss your neck and the back of your ear. Your hand caresses his muscular forearm that wraps around your waist tightly. 

¨You know…¨ You start and Leon hums. ¨There are still twelve hours until we have to leave.¨ Leon continues kissing you. ¨There’s plenty of time.¨

He chuckles against your skin. You grab both his hands as you leave his embrace, leading him back towards the cabin.

¨Come on. Let’s make the most of our vacation.¨

As Leon drives you both back home you’re scrolling through your phone. Endless of pictures of your week; Selfies, blurry ones, some you accidentally snapped as you walked. You smile quietly as you stop in one, probably your favourite as you remember the moment, almost blurring the picture:

The old couple compliment, making your heart melt, but also twisting it like a knife. They were sitting on a bench overlooking the water as you and Leon waited for the tourist guide to stop explaining the route. 

The old woman smiles sweetly. 

¨First vacation together?¨ You and Leon look at her and immediately look at each other. You both awkwardly nod after a few seconds.

¨Take pictures.¨ Her husband says and she nods muttering a small ´Oh yes.´ ¨One day, once you’ve reached our age.¨ He laughs as he points at his wife. ¨You’ll forget what today looked like.¨

You looked at them with a bittersweet feeling as the lack of air, from holding back your tears, made you gasp out a small sob. 

¨Don’t be sad, child.¨ The lady gets up, offering you a small cloth embroidered by herself with all kinds of roses and vines.

¨Thank you.¨ You take the cloth and wipe away a few tears before giving it back to her. 

¨Here. Let me take a picture of you both!¨ You nod before handling her over your phone with the camera ready. 

You scoop closer to Leon as he wraps one hand around your waist with a small smile on his face. You smile too, placing one foot in front of the other as you intertwine your fingers in front of you.

¨Smile!¨ 

Leon notices you staring blankly at the phone, he squeezes your thigh gently snapping you out of the moment. 

¨Baby. Are you alright? Did you get car sick?¨ You keep looking at the picture. Your posture is probably too awkward and the photo is shaky, but you absolutely love it.

It’s been your lockscreen for the whole week.

Something about the picture stands out of the rest the most, maybe it was the moment itself or the words the sweet couple said. Whatever it was, it made your heart skip a beat every time.

¨No, no. I’m alright, honey.¨ You tell him, zooming in the picture as you smile. 

¨Then what is it?¨ 

¨Nothing.¨ You pause for a second. ¨I don’t think I’m ever deleting these. Especially the one that sweet lady took of us. ¨

¨You really like it, huh?¨ 

¨I love it.¨

Leon’s hand tightens against the steering wheel, biting the inside of his cheek as he shifts on his seat.

¨You know you can’t post it.¨

You nod. ¨I know.¨ 

Your thumb hovers over the screen for a few seconds. You frown your brows as you sigh, almost hating yourself because you’re not allowed to let the world know who makes you happy. 

After a few seconds you change your lockscreen, back to your old one. You put your phone away right after, not really wanting to look at it as it feels like it's from a stranger.

¨I wish I could.¨

¨Me too, baby.¨ He loves the way your eyes spark whenever you look at them. And he hates the fact they need to be hidden away in the camera roll of your phone.

¨But I can keep them.¨

I always struggle while writing smut. I think I'm so bad at it lool

[poppireads]

A New Purpose pt. 4

Part one, two and three.

Pairing: agent!Leon x agent!reader

Word count: 21.6k

Summary: After finally admitting your feelings for one another, Leon does everything to suppress his burning want for you. You do the same, trying to get him out of your head, fearing for your position at the DSO. Until the day comes when Leon can't hold back anymore, and he's finally ready to show you how much you mean to him.

Warnings/notes: Explicit content, 18+, MDNI, Leon making love to you, soft dom Leon, inexperienced reader (not a virgin), p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, slight breeding kink, aftercare (Leon is sweet and attentive), fluff, age difference, older Leon, protective Leon, jealous Leon, no use of y/n, author's first language isn't English

Several days have passed since you came back from Raccoon City. No additional civilians were found and nothing else dramatic had happened. A sign for Chris to call off the mission and to let everyone return to the DSO facility.

The journey back had been quiet, both Leon and you keeping a low profile to not confirm any further suspicions. As much as the two of you were drawn to each other, you had acted like nothing had changed. Polite and direct, like you’re just partners who are well attuned to each other. Just how everyone knows you to be. Nothing more. Nothing less.

But damn, did you have a hard time acting like Leon hadn't become the center of your world... How much you were yearning for him to kiss you, to run your fingers through his soft hair, to push yourself against his strong body…

If you thought you were having a hard time during the car ride back, Leon was practically dying compared to you. Not just because of the lack of proximity. But because of Jason’s presence.

Don’t get him wrong. He wants nothing more than to be alone with you. The abrupt interruption last night was just plain cruel. He couldn’t blame you for it though. If he is to have you, he wants to do it properly. Not against the wall on a freezing balcony like it's an ordinary hook up. You deserve so much better for your first time together. And well, he has to be honest with himself… Chris and Jason would have definitely noticed if you’d gone any further last night. Because when Leon goes inside of you for the first time, he’s not gonna be quiet about it.

He was driving the car again, Chris next to him, you and Jason in the back. He occasionally checked up on you in the rearview mirror. His knuckles white from grabbing the steering wheel too tightly, betraying the rage and irritation building up inside of him. 

You were too close to Jason. Way too fucking close for his liking. His jaw tightened whenever the boy would look in your direction, the image of him reaching for your neck still fresh in his mind.

But the younger man knew when he had lost, backing off immediately once he saw the murderous look in Leon’s eyes. He swallows thickly, averting his gaze back outside the car window. Being the younger man out of the party, he’d thought that by confronting Leon, he’d teach him a lesson or two. Turns out you should never underestimate the power of a man, when you threaten the woman he loves.

Maybe it’s also for that reason, he hasn’t told anyone about Leon and you at the DSO. Probably out of fear for his own life.

Chris on the other hand, is someone you can trust. Having had quite the history with Leon back in the day during different kinds of missions, he turns a blind eye. Acts like he doesn't know, just as long as you'd stop this thing that’s going on between you two.

All easy said and done until the first night came up. On a normal night you’d see each other at the conservatory, chatting about your day, eating snacks or doing crossword puzzles. Almost every night, like it was an unspoken agreement between you two.

This new rule of Chris prevented you from doing that. So that night, for the first time in a long time, you sat alone in your room, missing his presence. And the night after that. And the night after that… It didn't get any better during the day. A few stolen glances, polite and friendly chatter about work like colleagues are supposed to do… Almost like nothing had happened back on that balcony in Raccoon City. Like he hadn’t kissed you with so much love and tenderness... He would have taken you right then and there.

Until the next day, when you received a written note from Leon. He had seen you standing in the shooting range, training the rookies. Your hair once again braided to keep it out of your face. You stood there with your arms crossed, brows furrowed, eyes intently on the younger man closest to your right. A boy probably around twenty years old, blond curly hair, green eyes, a pair of glasses adorning his nose. He has to push them up every so often, preventing them from sliding down.

You were looking over his stance, observing his shooting, bullet after bullet. Only to miss the bullseye every single time. You had stepped up, your hand on his shoulder, stopping him. You had told him his aim was off, that his posture needed slight fixing, that his footing wasn’t right. When all of that was fixed, you told him to control his breathing. To not rush it, that practice takes time. 

The first shot he fired after that was a straight hit. The rookie had looked at you with wide eyes, a few bewildered looks from the other men down the range. Almost in disbelief that a woman was teaching them the knows and hows of how to become a good shooter.

Leon had found it immensely attractive. You, his girl, ruling over the younger men like you had them in the palm of your hand.

Seeing the practical gear secured tightly around your torso and your perfect round behind in those black combat trousers that do nothing to hide your figure… It was the very reason he had to palm his crotch to prevent his growing erection from getting any worse.

It was the final push he needed to throw all protocol aside. He had to feel you, to see you, to hear you, to smell you. He needed you. Which is why, when you were rearranging a couple guns, he had slipped the small note into your hand when no one was looking. His burning touch left its mark, sending goosebumps across your whole body. When he walked out of the room he threw you a quick wink with a look full of certainty, of longing.

Opening up the note sometime later in one of the toilet cubicles, you read his words slowly, one by one.

‘We can make this work. Meet me at the conservatory tonight at eight. – Leon’

It may sound stupid, but you had ripped the note in several pieces before flushing it down the toilet, leaving no evidence behind. Something inside of you was just too scared to fuck this up. To accidentally leave a crumb behind so people would notice what’s going between you two. And if it were to fall into the wrong hands… Well, you would already be packing your bags even before you got to explain yourself.

So that’s where you are now, getting ready in your room. You've just gotten out of the shower, your hair still a little damp, neatly woven into your signature braid. A few hairs have come loose, framing your face. After you've put your pajamas on, just a plain black T-shirt with some grey shorts, you apply a bit of lotion on your arms and legs. It makes your skin smell like a fresh rose garden on a spring morning.

You doubt whether or not you should apply a bit of make-up. Eventually deciding not to since you've never worn it around him in the first place. Is this even a date? Surely he would find it weird to see you with mascara all of a sudden, right? Or would he think you to be plain without it? Well… He did have to refrain himself from fucking you just a few nights ago... And you weren’t wearing any make-up back then. Seems clear enough. It makes your eyes sting after a while anyway.

So now at 7.55 PM, all clean and fresh, you lock the door of your room behind you. Putting the key in your pocket, you make way for the elevator at the far end of the hallway. Pushing the button eight, the highest floor, you wait patiently for the doors to close. Once you go up, you can feel the nerves starting to build, your mind spiraling with different questions and concerns.

Does he have anything planned? Should you have brought something with you? Maybe it’s nothing and he just wants to have a talk with you. Or is he considering this to be a date? He hasn’t asked you to dress nicely though... What if he tells you what happened in Raccoon City was a mistake? That he simply let himself get carried away and doesn’t love you like he said he does? That would be embarrassing. You don’t think you’d ever recover from that. But then again, maybe you’re just overthinking things. Only one way to find out.

Hearing the sound of the beeping elevator, you look away from your fidgeting fingers when the doors open. The familiar hallway looks longer than usual, your footsteps heavy as you make your way towards the closed door at the far end of it. When the elevator closes, you're engulfed in silence. You look behind you, left and right, even towards the ceiling to see if there are any hidden cameras. Anything to prevent yourself from getting caught and to make sure you’re truly alone.

With the door now right in front of you, you reach for the handle. Taking a look at your hand, you catch yourself slightly trembling. Noticing your sweaty palm, you wipe it first on the side of your shorts. You clench your fist, closing your eyes while taking in a deep breath.

Fuck, woman. Man up.

You have faced countless situations more horrifying than this one. And for some reason, this would still be somewhere at the top of your ‘most stressful moments’ list.

Willing your hand to stop shaking, you open your eyes and reach for the handle once again.

When you push the door open, you’re met with one of the most adorable sights you have ever seen. Your nervousness clears up, replaced by an incredible fondness.

Your eyes fall upon Leon, hunched over, wearing his usual sleeping wear. A white T-shirt and grey sweatpants. At least ten candles are scattered across the room that, once lit, give the old conservatory a warm, soft glow. In the middle you see a makeshift bed on the ground, a large air mattress with several pillows on it. A bowl of salt and pepper flavored crisps stands next to it, together with a bottle of red wine and two glasses.

Your eyes fall on the wall of windows behind him. A perfect viewpoint to look down at the buildings below. The several little lights of the city create a magical feeling. Together with the soft candle light, it almost looks ethereal.

His gaze turns towards the door when he hears you enter. Turning off the lighter, he gets back up from kindling the last candle. The soft glow of the room gives away the slight blush that’s starting to form on his cheeks. A sign that he seems just as nervous about this as you are.

Putting the lighter down on the nearest desk, he looks at you with a hopeful expression. Like he’s scared you’re not going to like what he has prepared for you. But even through the nervousness, you can see the spark of happiness forming in his eyes when he realizes you have come.

He has made the room look so beautiful, so romantic… So intimate. For a middle aged man, who you thought would be anything but romantic, he has definitely gone above and beyond to impress you. No one has ever done something like that for you before. In your past relationship, you had to be content with a small hug or a kiss at the end of the day when he was feeling generous. But with Leon you finally see the difference.

Gone is all the doubt and worrying from before, your heart now only filled with utter happiness and love.

“Leon…” You say utterly speechless.

“You like it?” His hand goes towards the back of his neck, scratching the skin there. You hear the slight tremble in his voice when he continues. “I uh… Thought it would be nice to have a moment to ourselves after everything that’s happened, you know. Figured, I might as well make it comfortable for you.”

He’s nervous. Oh so incredibly nervous. And you can tell.

He has never done this before. Has never even felt the need to impress someone. To make that person like him. To rearrange a whole room for them to make it look like it’s the most romantic place in the world. He has never felt the need to do all the typical relationship stuff. He used to not even want a relationship at all. Seeing that typical lovey-dovey with other people... He had rolled his eyes and thought it to be annoying.

But with you? Fuck, he wants all of that. You turn him into someone he never thought he could be. You make him happy, make him feel relaxed, make him forget all the trauma he’s been through. He always looks forward to the end of the day because he knows he’ll get to spend the evening with you. 

At forty-nine years old he thought he had grown immune to all the female attraction. That no one could ever bring him to his knees and have him whipped. But then he saw you walk into the DSO facility on your first day. You had looked curious, lips parted in anticipation. Very inexperienced still but with so much motivation to train. And once you got the hang of everything, when you started to surpass the other male rookies, he knew he was done for.

He wants nothing more than this night to go well.

The amount of times he doubted whether or not he should light any candles tonight. Whether or not he should bring the air mattress instead of inviting you to the couch where you always sat. Whether or not he should have dressed nicer instead of his ordinary sweatpants. Whether or not all of this is going to be too much for you. What if you were going to run once you entered the room? Or worse, what if you didn’t show up? What if you had decided he wasn’t worth taking the risk?

But seeing you here now, so perfectly beautiful in your cute little pajamas with the biggest smile on your face. Well it takes all his doubt away in an instant.

Taking a step closer, you reach for the hand at the back of his neck. Grasping it into your own, you slowly caress it before giving him the most meaningful smile. 

“I love it. Leon, it’s beautiful. I just never expected you to do stuff like this.” Never expected but definitely hoped he would.

“Is it too much?” He says with a slight nervousness in his voice while holding your gaze. You quickly shake your head.

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you Leon. This really means a lot.” Your voice cracks saying the last few words, a couple of tears pooling in your eyes. Tears of happiness. 

Your reaction makes him feel warm inside. He’s quick to reach behind you for the door, closing it and twisting the key. Once locked, he puts the key back into his pocket. Taking a large step towards you again, he reaches for your face, holding it in both of his hands. He wipes away the few tears that fell, continuing to caress your cheeks.

“So we’re able to lock this door now?” You ask him sheepishly. 

He chuckles before replying. “I don’t want anyone interrupting us again like last time.”

You hum. “I see.”

Throwing a quick look towards the closed door again, his expression becomes a bit more serious. “Did anyone see you come here?”

He locks eyes with you, his stare intense but full of tenderness, moving one hand from your face towards your waist. He pulls you closer to him without realizing it. Almost like it’s his instinct to protect you from anything and everything at all times. To keep you close to him to ease his worrying.

You shake your head. "Nobody saw me. I even checked for security cameras when I came up here, but there are none.”

He nods at hearing your words. “There are none in this hallway, correct. Makes it easier for us to come here.” 

“Indeed.” 

A comfortable silence falls over you, the only sound being your soft breathing as you see him swallow before speaking.

“How are you holding up? You know, after what happened at Raccoon City.”

“I’m good as expected, I guess. Sometimes I wake up at night… I see the little girl’s face again, and I don’t sleep for another hour. I figure it’s gonna take a while before I can have peace with it, before it settles…” You tell him. He nods at your words, still feeling frustrated with himself that you have to carry this burden alone. He sighs.

“I’ve missed you.” He strokes your head now, your braid falling through his fingers. “I’ve missed you so god damn much.” He whispers like it’s a secret. Like he’s too embarrassed to admit it even to himself. Your heart flutters, a shy smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve missed you more.” You say in return.

He chuckles before slightly shaking his head, a soft smile adorning his face. “I don’t think that’s possible sweetheart.”

You feel like your heart could burst from the way he’s looking at you. His blue eyes shining in the soft candle light, filled with so much love and adoration. He presses you involuntarily closer to him. You put your hands against his chest while he cages you in his embrace. The smell of clean linen and soap fills your nostrils as you take in his scent.

You’re incredibly close now, closer than you had been in days. Just like you were back on that balcony… You feel his hand against the back of your neck, the other sliding towards your lower back. He tilts your head to the side before leaning in towards your neck.

You gasp at the sensation of his lips touching you, eyes fluttering closed. He peppers your skin with agonizingly slow kisses. Your grip tightens on his T-shirt, goosebumps going down your spine when you feel his hot breath on your ear.

You whimper his name, a soft breath leaving your mouth, sending his mind into a frenzy. He makes eye contact with you again. You see his gaze falling towards your lips for a split second before looking back up at you, his eyes pleading, longing. Asking for permission.

You grant it, leaning closer so your noses are touching. It’s all the confirmation he needs.

Placing his thumb underneath your jaw, he moves your head slightly backwards. Putting you in the best angle possible. He closes his eyes and puts his mouth onto yours. Slowly, carefully, without any pressure. Nothing more than a soft peck. Like he’s checking the waters first to see how you’ll react.

You deepen the kiss, showing him that you want this just as much. Your lips mold against his in a soft tantalizing kiss, making you forget about the world outside, about the problems you might face if you were caught. You forget about the reprimanding looks Chris gives you ever since Raccoon City. Reminding you that this thing between Leon and you should never happen. That it’s forbidden.

When he withdraws, you feel the sparks leave your body, making you whine. He presses his forehead against yours, breathing in your scent. He looks so vulnerable like this, breathing ragged, heart pounding and desperate for you.

As much as you want this to go further, you don’t dare take the first step. But god, you want to feel him against you. To caress his strong naked chest, worship his body like he deserves. You want to tell him how much he means to you, how perfect he is, how much you love him.

He withdraws after a few seconds, giving your nose a small peck before clearing his throat.

“Come. Sit with me.”

He gestures you over towards the air mattress, his hand on your back, making sure you don’t hit a candle on the way. The texture feels soft and warm underneath you when you sit down. A blanket, large enough for the two of you, is neatly folded at the end of the mattress, ready to be used if you were to get cold.

When you look around, your eyes fall onto something you hadn’t noticed when you walked in. In the middle of the mattress lies a new book full of crossword puzzles, neatly placed with two pens on it. You grasp it, quickly skipping through the pages. You notice that every page is still clear, ready to be written on. Which means he must have gotten it very recently.

“You bought this?”

He nods before sitting down next to you, the mattress softly giving away under his weight. “I did. Figured we needed a new book to start on, since we plow through them like crazy.”

He moves up the mattress before leaning against the wall of pillows he had built. Opening his legs, he pats his lap, motioning for you to join him. “C’mere.”

He looks so inviting, so warm and cozy. How could you say no to that?

You crawl towards him, turning around once you reach his legs, nestling yourself between them. He’s quick to wrap his arms around your waist, pushing you flush against his chest. He hums in approval, feeling your warm body against him. His nose brushes your temple, breathing in your scent and giving you the softest kisses there. Resting your head against his shoulder you finally feel at ease. Reaching for the book again, you flip it open, skipping the intro and looking at the first puzzle on page four. Twenty sentences listed, all of them needing an answer.

“You ready? I say whoever gets most of them right wins.” You grin.

He chuckles at your words. “Is that so? And what does the winner get, huh?”

You think for a moment, contemplating on giving the winner a kiss. But you’ve already done that. Not that you would complain doing that again but it doesn’t really feel like an original price anymore.

“I don’t know honestly. The winner gets to decide.”

There’s a devilish look in his eyes, one corner of his mouth turning slightly upwards in a smirk, ready for the challenge. “Oh baby, you’re on.”

You giggle, quickly reaching for a pen before looking over the first question.

At least thirty minutes pass of you staring at the page, the questions harder than usual. Leon has really outdone himself to keep the both of you entertained. A little too well. You’ve answered seven of them correctly, Leon already ten. If he gets one more right, he wins.

Both of you occasionally sip on your glass of wine and eat a piece of crisps. You flick the pen against your thigh in anticipation, a little irritated the answers don’t come as swiftly as they used to. Maybe his presence against your back has got something to do with that.

You feel the low rumble of his laugh against your back. “Seems like you’re losing, sweetheart.”

He’s right. There were three riddles left. Even if you got all of them right, you still wouldn’t be able to win. But that doesn't mean you’re giving up.

“You still haven’t won Kennedy. It can still be a tie.”

He hums against your ear, his hot breath hitting your skin, preventing the goosebumps from going away. “Hmm, is that so?”

You lean your head forward, away from his shoulder and distracting touch. “Oh most definitely. Watch me.”

Your eyes focus a little better on the three remaining riddles. Your competitive side takes the lead as you rack your brain for a possible answer.

‘What is another word for hypothesis?’

The word requires ten letters. ‘Definition’? No that’s not it. It has to start with an A or else your other answer for riddle nr. 5 doesn’t work anymore. What could it be? What word that starts with an A is a synonym for hypothesis? You have to get this. Your honor depends on it. 

You suddenly feel Leon taking hold of your braid. He lets it slide through his hand, starting from the top. He goes down slowly, feeling every twist, every curve of your hair, before reaching the elastic that’s holding everything together. You feel him pulling it down gently, careful to not pull out any of your hair.

When the elastic finally comes off, he throws it to the side where it hits the ground. With both of his hands on your hair again, he begins to unbraid it. The action feels intimate, pure and comforting. It disarms you, taking your mind off the riddle you so desperately need to get right. But you can’t think anymore, can’t even move when his fingers intertwine with the strands of your hair, loosening it bit by bit.

You blink, taking in a deep breath as you try to take your mind of what he’s doing behind you. That’s what he’s after right? To throw you off balance so you wouldn’t be able to win? Fuck, you can’t let that happen. You’ve got to be stronger than that. 

Forcing yourself out of your stupor, you focus again on the task at hand. A synonym for ‘hypothesis’, right. Something that starts with an A…

He has completely undone your braid now. A soft breath leaves you when you feel his fingers slowly comb through your locks. “So beautiful.” He whispers. His words alone make your eyes fall closed. You place your hand on top of his thigh to steady yourself while you feel his hands reaching higher, to the top of your head. He massages your scalp there. You gasp at the sensation, letting his fingers do wonders. He moves one hand towards your shoulder, trying to push you back against him.

“T-The answer, it’s…” You manage to get out, fighting against his advances, but it’s almost futile.

Lying down against his chest again, you do everything you can to wrap your mind around the riddle. But then you feel his lips against your temple, kissing you softly, then towards your ear.

“The answer is what, huh love?”

You part your lips, ready to give him a witty response. But then he moves his hands slightly lower down your body. From your shoulders all the way down your bare arms, making the tiny hairs stand up again. You forget what you were about to say. He caresses you, his fingers barely touching your skin, leaving a burning need in its wake. 

You’re completely at his mercy when he lowers his hands even further. Placed on your waist, he starts to slowly caress you through the shirt, drawing small circles with his thumb. After a few seconds he starts to become a little bit more bold. Moving with a flat palm over your stomach while the other grabs your hip. He pushes you harder against him, his gesture possessive, claiming. A whimper escapes when you feel his arousal against your lower back. Not that he’s fully hard yet, but it’s still noticeable. 

He hisses at the contact, pushing himself more against you if that’s even possible. He wants you so badly, his desire flying through the roof. But he needs to take it slow. This is your first time with him. Surely he doesn’t want you to feel like you're just a one night stand. He wants to worship you, show you how much you mean to him. How beautiful you are to him. How much he loves you… 

He wants to please you. Give you the best intimacy you’ve ever had and pour all his feelings into it. A dark part of him wants to do more than that. He wants you under him, naked, begging for him. He wants to claim you and ruin you for anyone else. He wants to show you who you belong to. 

“Want me to answer it for you, sweetheart?” He whispers hotly in your ear. 

You shake your head, mumbling a weak ‘no’, but it’s no use. You’re under his spell. There’s nothing that can help you win the bet right now. A low, dark laugh comes from his chest. “I don’t think you have it in you, baby. Let me help you.”

He reaches for the pen at your side, clicking the top of it and reaching for the book, towards the boxes that require the correct answer. Meanwhile his other hand moves towards the top of your stomach again, lower this time, stopping at the waistband of your shorts. He’s teasing you, feeling around the rim. He leaves a tantalizing kiss against your ear, his fingers slipping slowly underneath the fabric. He stops at your underwear, not venturing further just yet. You gasp at his bold action, not knowing whether this is reality or a wonderful dream. After months of yearning, he’s finally touching you the way you have desired for so long. 

“Let’s see…” He murmurs, noticing your irregular breathing and thumping heartbeat. “A synonym for ‘hypothesis’, huh? Well…”

The tip of the pen hits the first box, writing the letter A. He moves it towards the second box, writing the letter S. Another S, then a U…

“Last chance, sweetheart. Got any ideas?” He whispers against your ear. But you can’t say or think anything coherently anymore, too occupied with the way he’s touching you at the moment. 

He’s taking your silence as an invitation to go further, his pen moving once again. Hearing the scribbling, you close your eyes, sighing in defeat. 

Having written the full word now, Leon grins in victory, discarding the pen to the side. He looks down at you, seeing your closed eyes and parted lips, completely at his mercy. Everything he’s always wanted. “Looks like I won.” 

He nudges your head softly with his own, making you open your eyes. Surely enough, when you look down at the page you can see the filled in boxes, the answer clear as day. ‘Assumption’.

“N-Not fair.” You mumble, pouting, a bit embarrassed by your defeat. He chuckles behind you. A sexy, low laughter that makes something tingle between your thighs.

“No matter, love. We can play again sometime. Let you get your revenge.” 

Your only reply is a low hum before quietness engulfs you both again. After a few pregnant seconds you hear his Adam's apple bop as he swallows thickly. His heart is beating fast against your back, his patience growing thin. He feels himself growing harder against you. 

He breaks the silence. Remembering the price you promised him, he’s more than happy to tell you his request. Even though he’s a little hesitant. He doesn’t want to push you any further if you don’t want to.

“You know, I was promised a price, remember?” 

You manage to nod, swallowing the spit that has gathered in your mouth. His lips get closer against your ear again. The hand beneath your shorts moves lower, too fucking close to the most intimate part of your body. He’s touching your panties now, the material soft against his calloused fingers. You grab tightly onto the fabric of his sweats, begging for something you don’t know you should say out loud.

“Well I know exactly what I want. You wanna know what that is?” 

You push your head back a little more, looking up into his lustful eyes. You shake your head, feeling his hand touch your mound before stopping exactly where you need him most. The look he gives you is hungry, primal, a man in desperate need of his woman.

“You. I want all of you.”

You gasp at hearing his price, at his hardness pressed against your lower back, the evidence of his desire, way more prominent now. Your excitement is there too, a wetness forming in your panties.

“Will you let me have you baby? Will you give yourself to me?” He whispers hotly, his eyes boring into yours. 

You want this, so god damn much, but your insecurities resurface. You’re no virgin, but it’s not like you’re very experienced either. Having had sex only once in your life, years before you came to the DSO, it was a painful and slow event. The guy you had been with only searched for his own pleasure instead of granting you any. You hated it. But right now, with Leon, your opinion on the matter seems to change. 

“Leon, I-I haven’t… I mean, I have, but it’s been so long since I…”

He stills at your words, seeing the cloud of worry in your eyes. He’s slightly panicking, thinking he must have overstepped. “That’s ok. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He says with a comforting gesture, rubbing soothing circles on your hip. You’re quick to react.

“N-No, I want to. It’s just… I’ve only ever done this once in my life and I hated it. It was painful. I didn’t enjoy it at all. So yeah, it’s been a long time for me and you’re probably really experienced. I don’t want to disappoint you because I’m not.”

His eyes soften at your words. His worrying diminishes, only to be replaced by a tinge of sadness. He feels terrible that your first time having sex turned out to be a disaster. It only spurs him on even further, to make you forget about that memory, to show you how good it can actually be.

“Listen to me. You could never disappoint me. Being intimate with you is one of my deepest desires. Something I have wanted for months. I don’t care if you’re a little inexperienced. It means I get to teach you everything you need to know. It means you don’t just give yourself to the first man that presents himself and showers you with kind words. That you value yourself. It makes having you here with me a lot more special. I never want you to be embarrassed, baby. Not here. Not with me.”

He says the words before sending you a shy smile.

“To be fair… I haven’t in a long time either. A very long time.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “How long?”

He scrunches his nose, racking his brain for the last time he was intimate with someone. “Well uh… Twenty years or so? I’ve lost count.”

You gasp, thinking he’s joking at first. But he doesn’t laugh, his face remaining void of any humor. You almost stutter, making out your next words.

“You? Twenty years? But… You’re perfect.”

He chuckles at that, his free arm wrapping around your waist in a comforting manner.

“Thank you, love. But you know how the DSO policy is: no dating or you’re out. Besides, I’ve never had the desire to pursue other women. My mind was occupied with the job, with the people I had to save… I didn’t even have the time to do other things. Besides, I’ve never thought of myself as a catch to be honest. Too damaged, too antisocial… I would bore them in an instant.”

There they are, his insecurities again. You almost can’t believe it. Leon Scott Kennedy is probably the most perfect man in the whole world in your opinion. To hear he hasn’t been with someone in over twenty years is almost the equivalent of buying a brand new Porsche and never driving it. You reach for his arm, giving it a soft but reassuring squeeze.

“You’re nothing of the things you described yourself as. You’re selfless, brave, respectful and so very kind. You’re perfect, Leon. In every way.” 

Reaching for his cheek, you caress his hard stubble. With your eyes almost tearing up, you promise him something with much sincerity.

“I want this with you, Leon. No one else, just you. If you want me… I’m completely yours.”

His eyes darken at your words, a groan leaving his lips while the hand against your panties starts playing with the waistband. Teasing you. Almost begging to be let in. To find the precious golden liquid he’s after.

“Yeah baby? You gonna let me touch you?”

You nod with a whimper. “Touch me Leon.”

It’s all the confirmation he needs. In one swift motion his fingers move underneath the fabric, reaching lower. He groans, feeling the soft patch of hair between your legs. Fuck, he likes that. Has his dick growing even harder. Shaving is good and all, but he has always preferred a more natural woman. Blame it on his instincts, but some hair down there is so fucking beautiful. He caresses the hair before moving lower and then…

A loud gasp leaves you. One hand reaching for his arm laying on your stomach, the other holding on to his sweatpants. 

“Fuck me baby, you’re so wet already. Is this all for me?”

Surely enough, you can feel his index finger softly touching your lower lips. Slow and gentle at first, before using his thumb and middle finger to spread your lips open, giving him full access to your folds. His touch is featherlight, almost cruel as he brushes your clit with the tip of his finger. You jump slightly in his arms, which spurts him on even further. Proud of how quickly he could find your precious little button.

You nod at his question, eyes scrunched closed, a burning want coursing through your veins. He goes in further, putting more pressure on your clit, rubbing you in a slow, intimate pace to get you fully ready for him.

“You don’t know how long I’ve fantasised about this. How many times I woke up at night thinking of your wet little cunt. I had to rub one out almost every time. Like I was a teenage boy again.” He says, his fingers lowering from your clit to your sweet little hole. “Fuck baby… I can feel you dripping for me.” He grunts. “But I need more. Need to prep you for me. Need you to make a fucking mess.”

His middle finger circles your entrance, caressing it but not pushing in. He’s teasing you again, withholding you from getting what you need. It’s agony. 

You reach for his hand inside your panties. “L-Leon please…” He looks at you, a dominant look in his eyes, feeling ecstatic that he’s able to control you like this.

“Please what, huh sweetheart? 

“I-I need more, please…”

“Oh but baby, I love seeing you writhe against me like this. You’re beautiful. So fucking gorgeous. You've been driving me crazy ever since you stepped foot in this building. Seems only fair I return the favor, no?”

He doesn’t prolong your agony though. Instead you feel the pressure of his finger against your entrance. You moan as you feel him slowly entering you. His breathing has quickened, closing his eyes for a brief second to recompose himself. You’re so warm, soft and wet. Fuck, you feel amazing and he doesn’t even have his dick in you yet. 

Removing his thumb from your outer lips, he moves it towards your clit. Together with his finger inside you, he starts a slow and steady rhythm. Rubbing your clit in hard, controlled strokes, he pumps his finger inside of you, getting deeper with every trust. The stretch initially gives you a slight burning sensation. But when he’s rubbing your clit like that, and you get slicker by the second, you relax for him and welcome it. Finding it incredibly arousing even. Fuck, you didn’t know anyone could ever make you feel this good.

“F-Feels so good. Please don’t stop.” You tell him, trying to hide your face in his neck. Meanwhile you feel him push himself harder against you. Rubbing his hard cock against your lower back to have some friction. 

He groans at your words. “Damn right, I know how to pleasure my girl.”

His movements become more rapid, the sounds that fill the room absolutely filthy. Both your rapid breathing mixed with the squelching sounds his finger makes inside of you. It’s obscene. 

You can feel a familiar sensation starting to coil in the pit of your stomach. Quickly reaching behind you to place your hand on his cheek, you whimper. “L-Leon, I think… I think I’m gonna…”

He rubs your clit as fast as possible, sensing that you’re close to your release. His finger inside of you, pumping at an incredulous speed.

“Look at me.” He demands with a growl. The arm wrapped around your waist loosens. His hand now reaching for your throat, He pushes your head back, chin up, so your eyes are fully on his. He kisses you, full of passion and demanding hunger, claiming your tongue with his own. He’s insatiable, swallowing your moans, licking your tongue like a starved man while rubbing you at a delicious pace.

When you break the kiss, you’re even more out of breath than before. You remain fixated on each other. Your eyes fighting to stay open, feeling yourself nearing the brink of release. He notices, his hot breath hitting your face in a dominant, primal whisper.

“Cum for me sweetheart. I got you. You’re safe with me. God please baby, fucking soak my fingers.”

His words are the final push you need. You’re cuming, an immense feeling of pleasure washing over you. Your back is arched, your hands desperately reaching for something to hold on to. You let out an inaudible cry. This feeling of euphoria making you see starts.

He never stops his movements. His fingers continuously rubbing you as he works you through your high.

“Yeah… That’s my beautiful girl, fuck-”

It’s the most erotic thing he has ever seen. Seeing your chest go up and down, your parted lips, the whimpers that escape you when you come undone in his hands. He wants to rut against you. Chase his own high. But he’s restraining himself, remembering that he’s trying to make this moment about you. To make you feel good. His pleasure can wait.

After a few seconds of you seeing stars, you slowly come down from your high. You open your eyes, still feeling him rub you at a slower, more comfortable pace. Your gaze connects with his again and you sigh in satisfaction. He looks at you with a soft smile, infinite fondness in his eyes as he caresses your cheek.

“How I was able to resist you for so long, I have no idea.” He chuckles. Bringing his rubbing to a complete stop, he withdraws his fingers from your underwear. When you look down, you can see them covered in your slick. A blush comes on your face, mortified that you have made such a mess on him. But that doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. Because what you see next, startles you but arouses you even more.

Instead of wiping his fingers somewhere, he brings them to his mouth. He looks you deep in the eyes before bringing his index finger in his mouth. Closing his lips around it, he starts sucking the digit, his tongue lapping at it. A low moan escapes him at finally being able to taste you. Oh how much he had craved it, tasting your fresh arousal on his tongue. You taste like candy. A sweet, soft, incredible taste.

He lets out the finger with a quiet pop before bringing another into his mouth. You almost want to moan at the sight, but a slight embarrassment stops you from doing so. Once all his fingers are clean, he speaks again, low and hot.

“You taste devine, like an actual treat.” A chuckle escapes him again. “You’re gonna make me addicted, sweetheart.”

Your mind starts to clear up as the seconds pass. He gives you a few kisses, some on your lips, some against your temple. All while you’re trying to wrap your head around what just happened. This has been the most erotic moment of your whole life. Which sounds a little pathetic when you say it like that. But then again, you’ve been with only one other partner before. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts, when you suddenly feel your shorts being pulled down. His warm hands holding the waistband, trying to pull them over your hips. You jump immediately. Not out of unwillingness, but out of surprise.

“Leon, what are you doing? I don’t-” You mumble, shy and unsure, but he interrupts you.

“Shhh now sweetheart, you wouldn’t deny me my dinner, would you?”

If you hadn't been wet enough before, you surely are now. Your excitement starts to build again when you hear his words. A slow trickle coming out of your intimate hole. It’s not that you don’t want this. On the contrary, you would kill to have his face between your legs. But no one has ever done something like that for you before. 

What if he doesn’t like the way you look down there? What if you smell? What if he finds it a problem that you don’t shave? What if he doesn’t find you attractive when he sees you naked… His voice rumbles again in your ears.

“Would you like that baby? To have my mouth on your beautiful little cunt? To have me lick up every single drop?”

He sees your blushing, softly nudging his nose against yours. Not trying to scare you but instead looking for any sign of discomfort. He doesn’t find any, just your raw desire clouded by your inexperience.

“Gonna let me have a taste, sweet girl? Or do you want us to stop? We can do that too, you know. You just have to tell me what you want.”

Even through your aroused haze, you melt at how he’s still willing to stop this if it becomes too much for you. But it’s not too much, not at all. You just need that little push.

“I-I want you Leon…”

His eyes glint in the candle light. “Want me where, baby? Tell me.” 

Your cheeks are turning even redder. He’s really making you say it huh? You hide your face more in his neck, closing your eyes, whimpering your next words.

“Want your mouth… B-Between my legs. Leon please…”

He shushes you, pleased with your words. Hearing you whimper how much you want him to pleasure you, sends jolts of excitement through his body. It’s adorable you have trouble telling him what to do to you, while being an absolute menace in the battlefield. He caresses your cheek, his eyes full of promise, of desire. “Oh baby, you don’t have to beg for me, ever.”

Your words seem to awaken something in him. Pushing himself from behind you, he lets you rest against the wall of pillows. He quickly positions himself at your legs, leaning halfway over you, supported by his left hand. The other one reaches for the waistband of your shorts, slipping his finger underneath. Ready to take them off. Meanwhile his eyes never leave yours.

“Tell me if it ever gets too much and I’ll stop, ok? You won’t offend me by doing so. I want this to be something you enjoy. There’s no shame in telling me you feel uncomfortable, alright baby?”

You nod, not liking that this seems to be a one way kind of event, where the only person getting pleasure tonight is you. You want to make him feel good too, just as he had done to you a few minutes ago. He deserves that. 

“B-But what about you?”

There’s a flicker of darkness in his eyes. “Me?” He chuckles, two seconds pass. “Oh I’m ravenous, darling.” He whispers to you, low and intimate. 

He starts pulling your shorts down inch by inch. Once off, he’s met by the sight of your panties. You keep your legs closed, trying to get some friction. He groans at the sight, reaching for the back of the shirt he’s wearing. He takes it off in one swift motion before throwing it aside, leaving you gasping and drooling when you see his toned chest. He looks like a Greek god in your eyes. His chest hair covering his pectorals, going down in a smooth line down his stomach, towards his navel, disappearing in a delicious-looking happy trail underneath his boxers. 

A sudden feeling of insecurity hits you when you look at his glorious body. His broad, strong shoulders, connected to those delicious biceps you may have imagined biting once or twice. How are you to compete with that? Of course you don’t have to show off your biceps like a man does, but Leon just looks so beautiful, so perfect in general. And you? Well you’re far from perfect in your opinion. Your breasts aren’t the perfect size. You don’t have a flat stomach. You’ve got stretchmarks on your thighs, on your hips... You’re average looking to be honest, but are you perfect? Well not as much as you’d like to be.

He notices your hesitation, seeing the gears turn inside your head. He places a hand on your thigh, softly rubbing your smooth skin, taking you out of your train of thought. 

“What’s the matter baby? You wanna stop?”

You quickly shake your head. “No! No, it’s just… Fuck I’m probably irritating you with my worrying-”

“Telling me something that’s bothering you will never irritate me.” He says. A second passes as you look at him.

“Let me make this clear. Whatever you decide to do with me, whether it be nothing or everything, will still make this the most amazing night of my life. It’s because I get to spend it with you. Having you here with me is everything I could have ever asked for. Whatever’s troubling you is my top priority, so please, don’t ever hide that from me. What are you hiding, sweetheart?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “It’s something stupid. You look… Amazing, gorgeous even. You have the perfect body in my eyes. I don’t want to disappoint you because I look average. I don’t-”

“Hey, none of that.” He interrupts you, putting his index finger on your lips to stop you from talking. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re not enough for me. It’s flattering you see me in such a great light but…” A slight blush forms on his cheeks. “Fuck baby, if only you could see yourself the way I do. You look so much better than average. Seeing you here with nothing but a T-shirt and panties on makes me so fucking hard.” 

You look down at your hands when you hear his cheeky remark, trying not to fidget your fingers too much. 

“Wow Leon, that’s very… Uh…” You awkwardly laugh, not quite knowing how to respond.

You see his hand come into your line of vision, touching your chin, making you look up into his eyes again. His smile is soft and comforting while he caresses your jaw.

“It’s true.” He leans closer, just a few inches between you two. “Let me show you how beautiful you are, huh.”

And with that he kisses you again. Your lips mold together, his tongue immediately slipping in. Gone is his careful nature, replaced with something more feral, more hungry. 

He reaches for the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it, gesturing for you to put your arms up. Once he has taken it off, you’re left in nothing but your bra and panties. His hungry eyes look over you like a predator who has finally found the most delicious prey. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He says before giving you a small peck on the lips. His hands reach towards your back, landing on your bra. “Can I take this off baby? Wanna see my pretty girl.”

You nod, taking in a deep breath when you feel him undo the clips at your back. Slowly but surely he takes the bra away from your chest, his fingers hooked at the straps, before throwing it elsewhere. The chilly air hits your breasts immediately, making your nipples stand out even more. Leon pushes you slowly against the pillows again. A groan leaves his lips.

“Such pretty tits baby. I just… Will you let me have a taste?” 

You’re a bit taken aback by his bluntness but nod nonetheless. He wastes no time, covering your body with his. Your right breast is the first one he takes into his hand, softly kneading it. His thumb subtly touches your nipple, making you whimper. An unfamiliar feeling shoots straight to your core. 

He leans further in, kissing your neck first before slowly moving down to your chest. He kisses the swell of your breast, leaving a hot, wet trail. His gaze moves up, looking deeply into your eyes before parting his lips. Before you even realize it, he has them wrapped around your little peak. A cry leaves your lips, feeling his hot, wet tongue flick the little bud and lick your areola. His eyes are closed now, moaning at the taste of your soft breast, almost like he’s in heaven. Meanwhile you can see him rutting into the mattress. 

Seeing him enjoying himself that much when touching your breast is the biggest compliment you have ever gotten. That alone gives your confidence an immense boost. 

After getting your nipple nice and hard he moves towards your other breast, giving it the same treatment. You run your fingers through his hair, hugging him to your chest in a soft, intimate manner. 

“Absolute glorious tits sweetheart. Got me fucking obsessed.” 

“I love you Leon.” You breath out almost in a pathetic cry. He stops sucking at your breast, his eyes warm and calming. A soft smile takes over his features. “And I love you sweetheart.” He lets go of your breasts, moving down your body inch by inch. “Let me show you how much.”

His hands roam your body. Over your waist, your belly, your hips, occasionally grabbing one of your breasts… His lips touch your stomach in soft, tantalizing kisses, making the hairs on your body stand up. He reaches lower, lower and lower until his lips connect with the waistband of your panties. He kisses your mound through the fabric. His hands reach between your thighs, prying them apart, revealing the wet spot you made earlier. He looks up at you, an excited look in his eyes. “Can I take these off?”

You nod. A small huff leaves your lips when he motions for you to move your hips up slightly, just enough for him to slide your panties off. They go in one swift motion. Now completely bare you instinctively close your legs again in a way to cover yourself.

He doesn’t notice at first, too enthralled by the piece of clothing in his hands. He lifts it towards his nose, completely unashamed. Closing his eyes for a brief second, he breathes in your scent. A primal groan leaves his lips before he quickly folds your underwear and puts it in the pocket of his sweats.

With his eyes fully on you again, he admires your frame, for the first time completely naked.

“You’re a dream. An actual dream. I don’t know how I got so lucky.” He whispers, stroking your thighs.

You move your hands to cover your face when hearing his words. “Leon, stop. I’m already blushing enough as it is.” You laugh.

He joins you, a toothy grin on his face. “Can’t help myself when you look like this baby, god damn.”

His gaze moves lower, lingering on your breasts for a long second before dipping lower towards the apex of your thighs. His hands are moving, slipping between your legs again, pushing them further apart. You let him, a bit apprehensive. It’s not everyday your long-time crush gets to take a look at you down there.

With your legs now fully spread, you’re completely laid bare for him. His eyes are intense, looking at your wet sex like it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. He memorizes every single detail. The soft tuft of hair, your pink lips, your dripping little hole… Your gorgeous thighs going up towards your hips, your waist, your breasts, your adorable face. Yeah, this is heaven.

He lies down, moving closer between your legs and placing them over his shoulders. You look even more beautiful from up close, your scent intoxicating him. This is everything he has ever dreamed of and more. The feeling of being accepted by someone. To finally belong somewhere.

He leans in, his lips touching the inside of your thigh, kissing the stretchmarks there. “Absolutely beautiful…” He whispers hotly against your skin.

His tongue sweeps out, tasting you before he uses his lips again, softly sucking the skin. He moves towards your other thigh, repeating the same action. Only this time he starts kissing you closer towards the place that’s aching for him. He has his arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping them apart.

He reaches your mound, the soft little hairs tickling him as he kisses you there as well. You’re growing inpatient, wriggling your hips to get him to touch you more. “L-Leon, don’t tease me.” You huff out in frustration.

His strong arm suddenly wraps over your stomach, putting you in your place, not able to move. His eyes are the darkest you’ve ever seen, a devilish glint in them when he speaks.

“I would like to have my dinner exactly the way I please. And you will take everything I give you. Every last bit of it. Do you understand, baby?”

His words make you impossibly aroused, more slick dripping from your waiting hole. You start whining, desperate for something, anything he might give you. It makes his cock impossible hard, straining against his brieves, dying to be let out of its confinement. The way you writhe beneath him, right in his grasp, craving for his touch. The only thing on your mind being him and only him.

You’re his. That’s final. Even if you ever want to stop this thing going on between you two, he’d never be able to let you go.

Putting you out of your misery, he finally descends. He kisses your outer lips, softly, slowly, with so much tenderness. Lower and lower until he presses his lips against your pink entrance. He blows cool air on it, watching as another drop of arousal slips out. You gasp at the feeling, relieved when you finally get something, but it's definitely not enough. You whimper once more, running your fingers through his thick hair.

“More… I-I need more Leon, please.”

He groans, his hot breath hitting your sex. “I know sweetheart. You’re so fucking good for me.”

Deciding he has prolonged your agony long enough, he uses two fingers to push your outer lips apart, baring you enough for him just like he prefers. And then… He fully dives in.

Your loud moan fills the room when you feel the flat of his tongue lick a bold stripe up, starting from your entrance all the way to your clit. He does it again, his eyes fixed on the way your chest rises, your head leaning back, eyes squeezed shut. You’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

His tongue moves slightly higher, landing on your little bundle of nerves. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue, circling, sucking… Jolts of pleasure course through you, making you pull harder at the strands of his hair. You lean forward to take a better look at him, arching your back. Your mouth is open wide, moan after moan coming out of your throat. You never thought you’d make such vulgar noises, thinking it was an exaggeration when other women told you it could be this good.

His eyes are closed, seemingly in trance, the sound of your moans spurting him on even further. His hand reaches for your breast, holding it in a possessive grip, never stopping the movements of his tongue.

“You taste amazing. Fuck, I can’t get enough of you. This sweet little cunt…” He mutters, moving his tongue lower again, looking for your entrance. Once found, he slowly pushes his tongue in, licking the inside of your spongy walls. The obscene sound of his slurping echoes through the room, his spit connecting with your slick. Meanwhile his nose prods at your clit, rubbing it during every trust he does inside of you. That together with his tongue entering you, is the perfect combination in your opinion.

You indulge in the way he looks, eating you out, his eyes closed, hair tousled, tongue lapping up your arousal like a starved man. Nothing in life will ever top this. You’re so fucking in love with this man.

You can feel yourself getting close, an indescribable feeling of pleasure building up in your lower stomach. “L-Leon…”  You’re shaking, tensing up more as a sign of your upcoming release. Leon notices, he always does. Opening his eyes again, he looks straight into yours.

His tongue moves up again, putting his full attention on your clit. He gives it tiny kitten licks, the tip of tongue flicking it at an incredibly fast pace. It’s too much, the intensity of the pleasure he gives you foreign, overwhelming. Nothing like you’ve ever felt before.

The hand at your breast moves in sync with his thumb, rubbing, tweaking your nipple, which causes extra pleasure to go straight to your core. You feel like you’re about to burst, the sensation only getting better and better. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” Leon groans, coming up for air, his lips red and glossy, eyes connected to yours. Meanwhile he brings his other thumb towards your clit, continuing the same motions his tongue did, never interrupting your buildup. “Good. Need you to come undone for me. To bask in the pleasure I give you and not think about anything else. Cum for me, sweetheart. I got you. You’re safe.”

He removes his thumb, quickly putting his mouth on you again. He moves his arm over your waist, pinning you down once more. That together with his other hand fondling your breast and his mouth licking your cunt… It’s getting too much. You’ve never had a buildup like this before. Normally when you pleasure yourself, you have a nice sweet orgasm. Nothing special. This time you’re clutching the mattress beneath you, gasping for breath, not knowing if you’ll make it to the other side of your orgasm. It’s not like you want him to stop, but damn.

“Leon, I-I cant. L-Leon-”

He interrupts you with a loud groan, his grip on you tightening, caging you in. He pushes his face even closer towards your wet heat, his tongue moving faster than he’s ever done before. There’s no mercy. Just the intense amount of pleasure he promised he’d give you until he’s completely sated. Your back arches, mouth open to let out a silent scream, feeling yourself cross the point of no return. 

You’re seeing stars even though your eyes are squeezed shut. The intensity of your orgasm rippling through your body like a nuke has gone off. Immense pleasure washes over you, his slurping sounds and groans filling the room, while you try to hold on for dear life. The sensation he gives you is everywhere. From the top of your head all the way down to your toes. You’re convulsing, trembling in his arms, saying his name over and over again. He holds you like his life depends on it. Caressing you, loving you, working you through your ecstasy. Taking care of you like he’s always done, and will continue to do until his last breath.

It takes a good few seconds for you to come down from your high. Your legs are shaking, a thin sheen of sweat covering your entire body. 

He releases your cunt with a silent pop, giving it a long attentive kiss before withdrawing. He uses his thumb to wipe off the remaining juices on his mouth and chin. A chuckle escaping his mouth before he speaks. 

“A five-star dinner, I must say.”

Oh he’s such a tease. You’ve had it. Still trembling from your orgasm, the immense want to wipe that smirk off his face kicks in. Pulling yourself up to sit straight, you crawl towards him, hands reaching for the waistband of his sweats. Lets see how long his teasing will go on for once he’s deep inside of you, moaning your name. 

Undoing the tie in a swift motion, you hook your fingers underneath the fabric, beginning to pull his sweats down. A startled sound leaves his mouth, a bit taken aback by your bluntness but also finding it a big turn on. Unbeknownst to you, a slight nervousness settles over him. His hands reach out, wrapping around yours, stopping you from going any further.

“Hang on sweetheart. I’m flattered that you want to take this further, but are you sure about this?”

You look at him with wide, confused eyes. Almost under the assumption that he’s a bit opposed to having actual sex with you. You swallow, looking at him with sincerity. 

“I-I want you Leon.” You whisper, more vulnerable than ever. “If you’ll… If you’ll have me, that is… I want to feel you. All of you. Deep inside of me.” 

In a way to accentuate your words more, you let your hand slide down on the outside of his sweats, your hand landing on his cock. You feel him through the fabric, long, thick and fully erect. A nice girth that would stretch you out until you can’t take it any more. It’s all the evidence you need, to know he wants you just as much. So why is he resisting it? 

You start rubbing him up and down, squeezing him as hard as you can through his sweats. A guttural sound leaves his body, something between a groan and a whimper. One hand releases yours to immediately wrap around your hair, making you look up towards him. His eyes are feral, the expression on his face one of pleasure mixed with pain. His other hand stops you from touching him, a hiss leaving his lips. 

“Fuck baby, it’s not that I don’t want you.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Then what is it?”

He sighs in defeat, his insecurities coming to the surface. “I want to have sex with you… So fucking bad. But you must know that this…” He says carefully, gesturing to his cock. “It… It doesn’t look… I’m not thirty anymore sweetheart. It might not look like you expected. Just so you know….”

You find it adorable how he thinks the way his body has aged would be a problem to you. A small giggle leaves your mouth. You shake your head, holding his hand tightly in yours. 

“Leon, even if you had the smallest, most shriveled penis in the world, I’d still love the heck out of it. You know why? Because that’s your penis. And anything that’s connected to you, every flaw, every wrinkle, I cherish with all my heart. I love you, Leon, every part of you.” You softly laugh at him. He joins you, looking at your joined hands in slight embarrassment. 

“Can’t believe you actually thought I’d judge the way you look down there. My insecure little teddy bear.”

“Who are you calling little huh?” He laughs in mock hurt.

A few seconds pass like that, the two of you basking in each other’s presence, enjoying the quietness. Leon looks up at you again, a soft smile on his face.

“So you’re sure about this?”

You lean in to give him a quick kiss on the lips. “Absolutely positive.”

He nods, his own smile growing wider. “Alright. Let me take this off then.”

He stands up from the mattress, reaching for the waistband of his sweats. He takes it down in one swift motion, kicking the clothing away with his feet. Now only glad in a pair of black boxers, you let your eyes roam his body. His thighs are thick, muscular and hairy… So very manly. You bite your bottom lip, keeping in the drool that wants to leave your mouth. 

He reaches for his boxers, pulling them down as well, throwing them on the floor next to the mattress. Seeing him fully naked for the first time, in all his glory, you don’t know whether to look at it fully or not. You avert your gaze out of instinct, not wanting to seem like a creep. 

“It’s alright, sweetheart. You can look.” You hear him chuckle. 

So you do. Looking back towards him, your eyes land on his face first. You give him a shy smile before letting your gaze wander downwards. To his broad and hairy chest, to his toned stomach, following his happy trail all the way down to the big tuft of dark hair that gathers around his sex. 

He’s hung. Not necessarily the biggest, but definitely not small either. His cock is fully erect, standing proudly against his abdomen. The head: a dark pink shade, precum leaking out of the tip. His length has a nice girth, a vein protruding at the side. Lower at the base, you can see his balls, fully visible now he’s this excited. Sure he doesn’t look like a twenty year old man anymore, but damn does he make your mouth water. 

“You’re incredibly sexy.” You tell him. Sitting on your knees, you reach out for his hand, gesturing to him to come and lie down with you. You move to the left side of the mattress to make more room for him. 

“Eager little thing are you, huh?” He chuckles, even though he’s just as excited about this as you are. 

Before lying down, he reaches for his sweatpants again, putting his hand in one of the pockets. You wonder what he’s doing until you see him take out a small square plastic packaging. A condom. 

He takes it into his hands, his fingers at the edge, trying to rip it open. Without fully realizing what you’re doing, you put your hand on top of his, stopping him in his actions. 

“No…” You mutter.

For a second he looks at you with a questionable gaze, thinking the worst. That you still want to stop this after seeing him. But he soon realizes what you actually mean, relieve settling within. “You want me to go bare, sweetheart?” His rough voice sounds through the silence.

Do you? Yes, but… Is it irresponsible to do it without a condom the first time you have sex with someone? You don’t mind. Not with Leon at least. But you don’t know his opinion about it. For all you know, your question could be a turn off. 

“Only if you want to of course! And it’s completely fine if you want to wear a condom. But I’m on the pill and I think we’re both safe so… I’d like to try it. I want to feel all of you, Leon. Everything.”

His heart could burst, seeing you ramble like that, trying to not make it overly clear you want his bare cock inside of you. It’s probably the biggest compliment he’s ever received. You’re adorable. How can he say no to that? Besides… He only brought the condom because he thought you’d want him to use it. If it’s up to him, he’d have you without any protection at all. Get rid of the condom. Maybe even get rid of your pill too… But that’s for another day. When you’re both ready. 

It’s not the first time he has imagined starting a family with you sometime in the future. To buy a house where he can take care of you. To have a normal life away from the DSO. You, making dinner in the kitchen when he comes home from a normal office job, round with his child… He stores the thought somewhere in the back of his mind. Someday, he tells himself. 

“Well then…” He says, a small smirk forming. He throws the condom behind him in a careless manner. The tiny object flying against the window, almost like he wants to throw it outside. “Guess we don’t need this anymore, huh?”

Relief washes over you, when he reaches forward. His hands roam your body, tickling you, making you squeal and laugh. He laughs with you, pure joy on his face as he covers your body with his own. He seals his lips with yours. You let him lead, still laughing into the kiss. Your eyes are closed when you feel his hand on your cheek and his naked chest touching yours.

You moan into the kiss, feeling your tender breasts make contact with his hardness. You open your legs instinctively, inviting him in. Leon groans at your submissiveness, another drop of precum leaving the tip of his cock once his thighs brush against yours. A shiver runs down your spine, feeling his warmth, his strength. 

He breaks the kiss before closing the last few inches between you two. You feel his length touch your wet sex, earning a hiss out of him and a whimper from you.

“Fuck baby, you feel so warm and wet against me.”

He pushes slightly harder, rubbing his length along your folds, coating it in your slick. Your clit gets stimulated like that, making you involuntarily push your hips upward to meet his slow trusts. You wrap your arms around him, caressing his shoulder blades. Even occasionally using your nails to softly scratch him. 

That gets him going. A low moan escapes him when he looks into your eyes. He’s hungry, desperate even. Needing something incredibly badly but still trying to remain in control.

“I-I might not be able to last long, sweetheart. Like I said, it’s been a very long time for me.”

You stroke his back once more, showing him that you understand. “That’s ok hun. I don’t mind. I just want you to enjoy this. Just… Go slow, yeah? It’s been a long time for me too. It might hurt at first.” 

He looks at you with so much adoration and love, he thinks he might burst.  “Of course baby, just tell me if it hurts too much and I’ll stop. Ok?”

You mumble a quick ‘ok’, giving the tip of his nose a little peck. A soft laugh rumbles from his throat.

“I love you.” He whispers .

“I love you.” You return within a heartbeat. 

He places one hand on your hip while the other is at the top of your head, his elbow keeping him up. His forearm presses close against you, almost touching your cheek, hugging you, protecting you. 

After a minute of rubbing the two of you together, you suddenly feel the sensation on your clit stop, only to be replaced by a certain pressure at your entrance. He has placed the head of his cock there, testing you. Trying to see how you’d react by the sudden feeling. He’s already smearing his precum there, placing a permanent mark on you.

You place one hand on the back of his head before connecting your lips once again. He takes it as a sign that he can move further. Letting go of your hip, he brings his hand between you two before settling on your clit once again. You break the kiss to let out a soft moan when he starts to rub you in slow, intimate circles. He can feel your wetness dripping across his cockhead, sending an immense sense of pride through him. 

You’re ready. Fully ready for him. And now he’s sealing your precious bond once and for all.

He puts more pressure against your entrance, the head breaking through, stretching your walls. He immediately scrunches his eyes shut, his mouth falling open in a silent gasp. An immense sense of pleasure washes over him, something he’s never felt before. Of course he’s no virgin and he knows what he’s doing, but he has never gone bare with someone before. Has never even felt the need to be so intimate with someone… So the way your warm, wet cunt feels around him right now, is indescribable. 

He tries to stay silent, tries to keep in what he’s feeling to not push you too much. For all he knows, you could be in pain right now because of him. He reopens his eyes after a few seconds, searching yours to check in on you. 

You have watched him all this time. The way he almost looks gobsmacked at feeling your tight walls around him. Fuck he looks so hot, basking in the pleasure you’re able to give him. 

It doesn’t hurt for you. Not yet at least. You just feel the pleasure he’s giving your clit combined with the pressure inside of you, slowly stretching you. Intimidating but not hurting.

“I’m ok.” You tell him. 

He swallows, trying to remain in control of himself while also being relieved that he’s not hurting you. He kisses your forehead as a sign of endearment when he slowly enters you further. 

This time though, it does hurt you. A sharp burn runs through you when he’s almost halfway in. The rubbing at your clit does quite a bit to mask the pain, but it’s still there. Enough for you to hiss and let out a small yelp when he pushes in another inch. Leon goes still.

“Fuck baby, you need me to stop?” He hurriedly says, scared he’s gone too far.

You shake your head, holding onto him while trying to get used to his size. “N-No it’s fine. The stretch just hurts like expected. Just give me a moment, yeah? I love having you in me like this, baby. Feel so close to you.” You murmur, feeling his fingers quicken their pace at your little nub. Pleasure courses through you. So much so, that the pain subsides after a few minutes. You push your hips up against his, signaling that you want him to continue.

He doesn’t push deeper at first, instead pulling himself out before slowly going back in. He repeats the same action, again, and again. Until he’s rocking your bodies together in a slow, passionate rhythm. He’s been trying to remain quiet this whole time, but fuck a man can only hold on for so long.

“S-Shit baby, you feel so good around me. So perfect… So fucking perfect for me, god…”

His pace speeds up a bit, hearing the sound of your breathy moans, feeling your nails scrape against his shoulders. He’s in heaven. Nothing will ever beat this. He leans in towards your neck, putting the flat of his tongue against your skin, sucking you there. You feel him speed up again, his hot breath against your ear. “You feel a-amazing. I-I cant, fuck… Does it feel good for you, sweetheart? I’m not hurting you, am I?”

You immediately shake your head, meeting him in his thrusts. “F-Feels so good Leon. Love having you inside of me. Don’t stop. Don’t, please…” A loud moan rips from your throat, spurting him on even further.

You have completely relaxed around him now. A sign for him to move a little deeper. You gasp at the further intrusion, stilling for a second as the burning feeling comes back again. Only for a little while though.

He starts giving your clit hard and fast flicks of his fingers, making you relax around him in no time. This pattern continues until he’s fully inside of you, bottoming out. The stretch is something you’ve gotten accustomed to by now, the slight burn becoming something that gives you pleasure instead of pain. You moan in his ear, telling him how much you’re enjoying him making love to you.

“Fuck Lee, I love your big cock inside of me. S-Shit, you make me the happiest woman in the world.”

He feels like he’s dreaming. Being this intimate with you while also hearing how much you’re enjoying this, how much you want him... 

“Damn right, I know how to take my girl. How to please her...” He groans. “Fuck baby, your cunt feels like honey. So warm, so f-fucking wet…” He starts whimpering, actual whimpering, something you’ve never heard him do before. Leon never whimpers, never falls to his knees, never surrenders to something. So you know, he’s fully at your mercy right now. Putting all his trust and love into you. 

He starts a steady rhythm, rocking your bodies again, relishing in the snug, warm feeling you provide him. He suddenly reaches behind his back, grasping your hands, placing them flat on the pillow above your head. He holds them together at the wrists, holding you in place just the way he likes. He’s quickening his pace, claiming you, chasing his release so he can mark you from the inside.

He kisses you fervently, biting your bottom lip before moving towards your jaw. Licking and sucking the skin there.

“You’re mine. Tell me you’re mine.” He growls in your ear, his words dripping with possessiveness. No one will ever have or see you like this. No one. Not on his watch.

He awaits your answer, hearing you whimper at a certain sharp trust. You’re breathing each other’s air, so close now that there’s no more space left between you. Your eyes flutter shut, barely able to control the intense pleasure he’s giving you. 

“Need to hear you say it, baby. C’mon, who do you belong to? Tell me.” He grunts against your lips. He uses his thumb and index finger to gently squeeze your clit. He rolls it between his fingers, making you open your eyes again. You let out a silent scream, looking deep into his eyes.

“Yours! Yours! Oh my… F-Fuck, I’m yours, Leon. Please, go faster, deeper… Anything! I need you, please…”

“Yeah?” He grunts, gritting his teeth. “You want this old man to fuck you like he’s thirty again, huh? Want him to show you what he’s made of? Make you come on his cock? Would you like that, sweetheart?”

You have lost your sanity, all rationality out of the window. The only thing on your mind now is him. His deliciously heavy weight on top of you, his thick cock between your legs, his groans you get to swallow… He’s everything. You’re only purpose, your love, your reason to live. Only Leon. 

“Leon, baby, need you to come inside me. Need to feel it…”

His heart flips at hearing your words. His blue eyes, normally very bright, have turned into two black holes, his arousal, his hunger for you, clear as day. He never thought you would ask him to finish inside of you. He would have asked eventually, yes. But he never thought you would suggest it on your own. 

“Shit, you’re such a good fucking girl. Asking me to mark you from the inside… You’re so dirty. My naughty little girl. F-Fuck I’ll give it to you baby. Won’t be long now. Your cunt is gripping me like a vise.”

He rocks into you at a nice speed. Still not at his full potential because that means he would hurt you, since you’re not completely used to his size yet. That is something he’s saving for another time. 

Right now, he rubs your clit as fast as possible, feeling your legs tighten around his hips. His own release building, nearing the point of no return. You’re not far behind. You keep your legs as wide as possible, giving him full access to you while accepting everything he gives you. You’re right there, at the brink of release. You just need a little more stimulation.

Leon suddenly stills, a loud groan leaving his mouth. His cock’s fully out, just the tip of it inside you. His fingers never stop rubbing your clit. His face is scrunched together, eyes closed like he’s in pain. You immediately worry.

“L-Leon…? Are you ok? Did I do something wrong?” You mutter, ready to apologize. 

He quickly shakes his head, his warm breath hitting your face. “No baby, it’s just… I can’t hold it in anymore. If I continue, I’ll cream your walls even before you’ve had a chance to cum. What kind of man would I be if I came before you, huh?” He says, trying to sound reasonable. 

You’re not having it though. Once again he’s putting your needs before his and you’ve had enough of that. In one fluid motion you have raised your legs higher at his sides so now the heels of your feet are pushed against his behind. You push against his cheeks, pushing him closer against you, making him penetrate you once more. 

A guttural groan leaves his mouth when he looks at you in betrayal. “You fucking minx. No, I-I cant…”

“You can, Leon. You’ve been looking after me ever since the beginning, never letting me out of your sight. Just let me take care of you for once. Cum inside of me Leon. It’s ok, I can cum after. I don’t mind.” 

You rapidly push your hips up and down, squeezing him with your walls as hard as you can. His eyes are wide, mouth agape, completely vulnerable. And you know you have him right where you want him. 

“Just let go, baby. I’ve got you this time. You’re safe.”

He can't hold back anymore. Now fully giving in to your actions, he ruts into you like a madman. He brings his face to your neck, unable to hold himself up any longer. His hair slightly falls in your face while he lets out sounds something between moaning and whimpering, almost speaking gibberish. 

“Don’t deserve you… Y-You’re perfect… So good… Best fucking cunt. Like you were made for me. Shit baby, I’m cuming!”

Right after he says that, you feel his cock spasm. He pushes into you one final time, going as deep as possible. He spills inside of you, groaning your name like a prayer, breathing in your scent like it’s his source of life. Jet after jet of hot cum hits your cervix, marking you, claiming as his for all eternity. All you can do is take it. And you do so, gladly. 

His hold on you is impossibly tight, his weight crushing you. So much so it almost becomes difficult for you to breathe. But do you mind? No. You absolutely relish in it. The way he’s groaning in your ear like his life depends on it. How you can feel his warm cum already trying to slip out of you, because it is too much for you to hold. How you’ve never seen him this vulnerable before, so beautiful, so completely bare. Not just physically, but mentally as well. Something that’s meant for you, and you only. 

Slowly coming down from his high, you would think he needs to catch his breath for a second. But no… Instead of relishing in your warm embrace, he looks down at where the two of you are joined together. He rubs his fingers in a rapid pace again, continuing where he left off to build your own high. His face is still tucked against your neck, his movements against your clit relentless, his weight preventing you from running and forcing you to take it.

“F-Fucking hell, Leon!”

A dark, warm chuckle is felt against your neck. His tongue slips out, licking your neck before softly sucking at the skin. 

“You’re gonna cum again for me, baby. One way or another. Don’t think I’m spent just because of that little trick you just pulled.”

He’s only playing with you. Teasing you until your bottom lip trembles. Is he a little frustrated you made him cum before you did? Yes. He’s a man after all. It’s his job to take care of you, to look after you, to make sure you come first, multiple times, always. Does that mean he hates you for it? No, absolutely not. To be honest, it felt nice to be taken care of for once. To have your arms around him, stroking his head, whispering sweet nothings in his ear while you milk his cock. Just the thought of it makes him want to come again. 

You’re an absolute angel. His most prized possession. No one has ever taken care of him before. After having to fend for himself his whole life, it’s a nice feeling to know someone cares for him now the way he has always wanted. Ever since he had lost his parents, he had told himself it would only get better. It had to. But things, in fact, did not get better… Until he met you that is. He has finally found that comfort in you. 

You own his heart. In more ways than one.

Bringing you to the brink of release, you almost scream his name into the air. Overwhelmed by the intense feeling of fullness and the delicious rubs against your center. 

He’s mesmerized by you. Your warm, wet cunt still wrapped around his softening cock. His seed deep inside of you. Your moans, your whimpers, your legs, your hips, your tits... Everything. 

“God please baby, let me feel you come around me. Just one more time. Know you can do it, sweetheart. Make me fucking proud.” 

His words are slurred, but it’s the final push you need. Tipping over the edge, you come around him, your walls spasming, making him groan against your skin. “F-Fuck that’s it. That’s my good girl, shit baby…” He curses while also talking you through it. The feeling of you erupting around him sends him into a frenzy, his pride rushing through the roof. 

After coming down from your high, you both lie there completely spent, the only sound in the room being both of your heavy breathing. You feel his lips against your cheek, pressing a soft kiss there. His eyes are on you while you look at the ceiling, trying to wrap your mind around what just happened. 

“You good, baby? Did you enjoy it? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Leon asks, a little bit unsure because of your quietness. You turn your head to look at him now, your noses brushing against each other. You let out a soft giggle, feeling warm and fuzzy inside. 

“That… was amazing.” 

He laughs now as well, his hand drawing small circles between your shoulder blades. “So I guess you liked it then?”

“I loved it.” You tell him. “I’ve never come so many times during sex before.”

“And I’ve never come that fast before.” He chuckles. You snort at his reaction.

His smile turns more tender, more intimate. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

You know what he's saying those words for. For prioritizing his needs before yours, for taking care of him when no one else does. Your heart breaks at realizing he feels the need to thank you like you're just a stranger and not the woman in his life. 

“Don’t have to thank me for something that’s so normal for me to do Leon. I want to take care of you. I love you.”

“I know, it's just..." He lets out a long sigh. "I love you too, sweetheart.”

His lips are on you once again. Not hungry or urgent like before, but slower, more passionate. Searching for that deep connection while tasting you. He takes his time, moving his lips slowly against yours. Feeling you up once again, hands caressing your waist. This is what you both needed. Some time alone, away from the world outside, with nothing but each other's company. 

He breaks the kiss after a while, putting a small peck on the tip of your nose. “How about a nice, hot shower huh?”

You nod. “I’d like that.”

He lifts himself up on his elbows, your skin sticking to his caused by the amount of sweat you both lost. His limp cock slips out of you, an immediate trickle of his cum following. It forms a mixture together with your slick, the evidence of your lovemaking. 

He looks at your cunt with a possessive look, mesmerized by your wet lips, almost zoning out. It’s a view he has imagined time and time again for only now to see you like this in the flesh. He reaches out, his thumb catching the bit of seed dribbling down your butt before slowly pushing it back into you. You gasp at the uninspected intrusion, but let him do as he pleases. Gently fingering you with his thumb, he watches as more cum leaks out before pushing it inside again. 

“Is it… bad? That I want you to keep everything in?” He asks, whispering like it’s a secret. Too shy to utter the words. You giggle, cocking your head with slight furrowed eyebrows.

“Do you have a breeding kink, Mr. Kennedy?” You say seductively, teasing him. 

He meets your gaze, a hidden playfulness behind his eyes. “With you… I think I have every kink there is out there.” 

“Oh my God, Leon!” You are laughing heartily, your head thrown back. You reach up to swat his hand away from between your legs. 

He joins you in your laughter, shaking his head. He stands up and reaches for his boxers, putting them on. He then offers you his hand, gesturing for you to take it. “Let’s go get that shower. Up you come.”

He pulls you up, his hands moving to your shoulders, steadying you until you’re standing straight. Only it doesn’t stay like that. You manage to stay up for a good five seconds until your legs start to wobble. Losing your balance, you almost fall back onto the mattress behind you. Leon’s quick to wrap his arms around you, pushing you flush against his chest.

“You good?” He asks a little worried. The feeling of your naked chest against his still sends shivers down your spine, even after everything you just did. His eyes search yours, checking to see if you’re feeling well. The truth is, you are feeling well. A little too well.

The events from before had taken away your ability to stand properly, your legs not able to hold your weight anymore. You chuckle at how oblivious he is. If only he knew how good he fucked you…

“I’m good, Leon. Very good actually. You really did a number on me.”

He looks a little confused, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.  “I fucked you that good? You sure I didn’t hurt you?”

His warm breath hits your damp skin, sending goosebumps everywhere. You giggle, sending him a soft smile. “Leon, believe me when I say you didn’t hurt me at all. I’ve never felt so good in my entire life. You just uh… have to help me right now, because I can’t feel my legs anymore.” You tell him, joking.

Pride swells in his chest, knowing he took you so well you’re not even able to walk for a while. Good… All the more reason to hold you against him as closely as possible for just a little longer. He grabs the key from the pocket of his sweats before reaching for the blanket on the mattress. He unfolds it before wrapping it around your shoulders, covering your body all the way down to your knees. Once he has you wrapped in like a little burrito, he puts one arm at your back, the other behind your knees. He lifts you up, holding you close against his chest, making his way towards the door.

“Where’re we going?” You ask, a little worried someone might see you. “Is there a shower up here?”

His grip slightly tightens around you. “There is one in the room next to this one.” Seeing your slight worried expression, his gaze softens. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone see us.” He kisses your temple, unlocking the door before reaching for the handle.

Stepping into the hallway, Leon takes large strides towards the other room. Luckily it’s unlocked, like everything else on this floor.

You find yourself in an old bedroom, much like the one you’re staying in. Seems like Leon does too because he finds the attached bathroom immediately. He turns on the light before locking the door behind you. He gently sets you down on the closed toilet seat, giving your temple a quick peck before walking towards the walk-in shower. You watch as he turns on the shower tap. He holds his hand under the stream to check if the water is the perfect temperature. Once satisfied, he turns back to you.

“C’mon love, let’s get you cleaned up.” He says, taking off his boxers.

Removing the soft blanket from your body, he lifts you up, placing your legs around his waist. He walks into the shower, the warm stream touching your skin. You sigh in relief, fully relaxing in his arms. You feel Leon stroking your back softly, a smile of satisfaction and approval on his face.

“Hmmm that feels good, baby?”

You let out a hum of contentment, leaning your head against his shoulder, your nose brushing his neck. You close your eyes and lean in, pressing soft and gentle kisses on his wet skin. Your intimate gesture, how ordinary it may seem, affects him immediately. It makes more blood pump straight to his cock, his desire for you loud and imminent. He wills himself to calm down for your sake. He has worn you out already. You’re spent. There’s no way you can take him again.

“Lee, what’s wrong?” He hears you quietly mumble against his neck. His quickened heartbeat obviously didn’t go unnoticed by you. He quickly shushes you, not wanting you to feel like there’s a problem.

“ ‘S nothing love, just enjoy having you here with me, that’s all.” He tells you, never stopping the movements of his hand on your back. He closes his eyes, trying to think of anything but your luscious body pressed against him.

His desire ebbs away after a minute, his cock once again hanging limp between his legs. You’re both soaked now, the sweat washed away down the drain. Leon nuzzles his nose into your hair, kissing your earlobe.

“Gonna have to try standing up for me now baby. I’ve got to wash you.”

You nod, muttering a quiet ‘ok’ before you feel him slowly letting go of your thighs. Once your feet hit the white marble floor, you put your full weight onto your legs again. This time though you can stand up. The wobbly feeling is now completely gone. Leon notices but still doesn’t let go of you fully. One hand still at the small of your waist.

“You good?” He asks. You nod, sending him a sincere smile.

He starts washing once he’s sure you’re ok. There’s no soap or shampoo left in the abandoned room, so you just try to clean yourselves by using the water. His touch is gentle, hands gliding over your bare back before moving to your hair. He runs his fingers through it, careful to not hurt you when he finds a knot.

“You’ve got such beautiful hair. I’ve always wanted to run my fingers through it…” He almost whispers to himself, but you heard him.

“And now you can.” You grin. He moves closer, pressing his warm chest against your back, wrapping both of his arms around you from behind. He kisses the top of your head before he speaks again.

“Indeed sweetheart, I can. And I will, for many more years.” He promises you.

After a few more minutes of basking in the heat the shower provides, Leon turns off the tap before getting out. He reaches for two towels stacked on a cabinet near the sink. He passes one to you before unfolding his own. You both dry yourselves, the humid air making it difficult to see each other in the large mirror. 

When you’re both completely dry, he puts his boxers back on, ready to make his way back to the conservatory. He wraps the blanket around you again, lifting you up into his arms.

“I can walk now, you know.” You grin. His growls softly in your ear, his grip only tightening. 

“I know sweetheart. Just let me take care of you. You’re mine now.”

He turns off the light, getting out of the bathroom. Back at the conservatory, he locks the door once more, making sure no one walks in on you two. The sound of his footsteps on the hardwood floor is the only sound you hear when he walks towards the mattress. He bends down, carefully placing you on the soft surface. He goes through the room, blowing every single candle out, covering you in darkness. The small lights from the city outside provide a calm and romantic view. Thankfully no one’s able to look inside where the two of you are since you’re higher up than everyone else. 

You open up the blanket, making enough room for him to slide in next to you. Leon leans back against the pillow behind him, immediately opening his arms as a gesture for you to come closer. You do just that, placing your head on top of his chest, hearing his heartbeat while you wrap your arms around his waist. He lets out a low growl of satisfaction, feeling you pressed against him, utterly naked. You feel the fabric of his boxers against your hip and let out a disappointed huff. 

“Take these off Lee.” 

He complies, but it’s a little against his will. Don’t get him wrong, he wants nothing more than to lie naked next to you… But he might get hard again. And that’s something he’s trying to avoid. 

Your cunt is still a bit sore after your union. Rubbing your thighs together, you try not to think  too much about the ache. 

Now both comfortable, completely wrapped in the blanket, you hold each other so intimately, feeling like it might be the last time you ever get the chance to do so. With his boxers now gone, you press yourself against him, intertwining your legs. You rub his back in comforting circles while nuzzling your face into his chest. Leon has one arm wrapped around your waist. The other around your shoulders. His hand caressing the back of your head. 

The two of you are in your own little bubble, warm against each other, protected from the world outside. 

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” You whisper against his chest. He presses his nose into your damp hair, giving your head a kiss. You continue. “With no one judging us or telling us what we’re doing is wrong.” He hums at your words, his grips growing tighter as to offer you some comfort.

“We can make that happen. I didn’t tell you we could make this work for nothing. We just have to give it some time, seek the right people who we can trust.” You look up when he speaks further, a sparkle of hope igniting. “I’ll have a talk with Chris… See what we can do… Maybe there’s a way for us to be together here. If not, we could always resign. Even though the DSO doesn’t want us to. We can run away. Hide somewhere we’ll never be found. I might have a few connections, people who can help us. I can keep you safe there. Keep this… love of ours safe.”

Your mind is a whirlwind. Anxious about the future and scared about how everything will go. But you trust Leon. With every fiber within you. If there’s a way for the two of you to be together, he’ll find it. You’ll follow him anywhere.

“I trust you, Leon.”

He hums at your words. “Anything for you baby. I’d do anything for you.”

Nuzzling further into each other, the night passes on. It must be way past midnight by now, but you don’t care. Time is irrelevant. You both end up talking for another hour. Conversing about how you both see the future. About how your lives were before you met one another. You tell him you never want to live another day without him. That he’s the best thing that has ever happened to you. He kisses you deeply, muttering against your lips how he needs you more than air itself, how his life revolves around you now, how he loves you more than anything in the world. 

After a while it gets hard for you to stay awake, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. You close them, telling yourself it’s just for a second. But sleep pulls you under immediately. He lets you, feeling your soft, calm breathing against his skin. He checks the room with his eyes once more. An old habit, rooted into him, making sure no harm would come to you. He looks at you one final time, asleep, safe and sound in his arms. Giving your temple one final kiss, he lets his eyes fall shut. It doesn’t take long before his body fully relaxes and a deep, comforting sleep overtakes him. 

You wake up to the first soft rays of sunlight peeking over the top of the buildings. The morning sun casts an orange glow on the conservatory, basking it in a warm, tranquil atmosphere. You squeeze your eyes shut, the light a little too harsh for your still sleepy mind. 

You had turned around during the night, your back now turned towards Leon. His strong arm is still wrapped around you, keeping you close against his chest. His face is nuzzled in your hair, his slow, steady breathing hitting you in regular puffs. He’s still asleep. 

Your mind goes back to the events from last night. You remember the way he took care of you, how he claimed your body. The way his face scrunched together when you finally took care of him. The evidence of his release is still embedded deep inside of you, a dribble coming out of your hole whenever you move.

He awakens only a minute after you. You notice by the slight stirring of his fingers against your skin and how his breathing changes. He starts moving after a few seconds, his grip on you tightening. Both of his arms now wrapped around you again in a possessive hold. You don’t know if he realizes you're already awake. But you decide to play dumb for a while. To see what he’ll do. 

He presses himself fully against you, letting you feel his soft cock against your behind. You grow wet without realizing it, thinking of how he pushed into you last night. Of how his thick girth stretched you to the max. He groans in your ear, not trying to be sexual, but in a personal, intimate manner. Fully at ease having you against him fully naked. 

He starts giving you slow, tantalizing kisses behind your ear, probably in an effort to awaken you. His hand reaches lower, barely touching your breasts before landing on your stomach. His thumb draws comforting circles there, the subtle action so beautiful and arousing to you. More wetness starts to pool between your legs. Your breath hitches, no longer able to prolong this act you’re playing. You squirm against him, involuntarily rubbing your behind closer against his cock. 

He chuckles at your actions, a deep desire igniting deep within his lower belly. Though he keeps his thoughts at bay, not knowing your incredibly aroused yourself. He thinks it’s just your way of trying to get closer to him, and who is he to deny your wish. 

A deep rumble escapes his throat. “Good morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?”

His hoarse morning voice hits you like a truck, makes your abs tense and thighs squeeze more against each other. “Good morning, Lee.” Is the only thing you manage to get out. A whine slips from your lips, feeling his muscular thighs against your own. The weight of his body leaning onto you. You push yourself impossibly close, something primal taking over you. Not quite knowing how to ask for his special attention.

He hums approvingly in your ear. His own thoughts being anything but pure. 

“Wanna be close to me, baby? Hmmm, you’re so warm…” He groans against your neck. His hand stops moving at your stomach and goes towards your waist instead, grabbing you more firmly. 

You suddenly feel something stir behind you. A firm hardness rises, standing tall and ready against your lower back. His eyes grow wide immediately, his own body betraying him. He knows you can feel it as a small gasp leaves your lips. He’s ashamed, almost disgusted at himself for getting carried away like this. You have just woken up for goodness sake. You’ve been intimate with him only hours ago and he’s already asking for more. What on earth would you think of him?

Little does he know that the evidence of his arousal spurts you on even further. You want to invite him between your legs. Your sex wet from your slick, warm and ready for him. 

He tries to move away from you, loosening his grip as a soft blush starts to form on his face. 

“Shit love, I-I’m so sorry. I don’t know how… Just give me a second…” 

His arm slung around you is removed, his whole body moving away, making you let out a sound of disappointment. The cold air hits your back, sending shivers down your spine, missing the heat he provided. You turn your head in a flash, looking up at his half-lidded eyes. You reach for his cheek. He’s not looking at you. Too focused on getting his ‘situation’ settled again. 

“You fucking morron… Getting hard like that…”  You hear him mutter to himself. He freezes when he feels your hand against his cheek, his eyes weary, conflicted, frustrated with himself. You lean in while also pulling him down towards you.

Your lips are on his, the kiss demanding, stopping his troubled mind from spiraling any further. For a second he doesn’t know what to do, a little taken aback by your forwardness. But then he feels you push yourself against him again, feels your wandering hands slipping down towards his neck, hears you moan into the kiss… And just like that, he’s done for. 

He groans, the feeling in his body returning. In the split of a second, he has his hands on both of your hips, pulling you back against him, against his hard, pulsating cock. You let out a whimper at feeling him behind you again. A sound that’s quickly muffled by his warm tongue slipping inside your mouth, dominating, meeting your tongue in a sensual dance. Gone is his embarrassment from before, replaced with the burning need to be inside of you again. God, how could he ever have doubted you. You’re just as desperate for him as he is for you. 

His hand slips down from your waist towards the soft curls hidden at the apex of your thighs. You automatically open up for him, inviting him inside. Once his fingers go lower and he feels your absolutely soaked sex, he groans deeply into your mouth. A grunt escapes him as he breaks the kiss. His hand grasps your thigh, lifting it higher up to take a good look at you down there. 

His eyes land on the wet sheen between your legs, your desire completely bare before him. Shining gloriously in the warm light the morning sun provides. He swallows thickly. 

“Good fucking morning to you, baby. Holy shit, so fucking ready for me.” 

His rough voice shoots straight to your core, giving you the urge to rub your thighs together. He refrains you from doing so, too immersed in watching your slick dribble from your core. All just for him.

“And here I thought I had to go easy on you, huh?” He says menacingly, a small smirk plastered on his face. He leans his head down towards your breast, licking a bolt stripe over the nipple. Your breathing becomes irregular. You wiggle your hips, trying to find some friction, anything that can give you the satisfaction you need. He chuckles darkly in your ear.

“I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already dripping for me. Christ…”

Your eyes are closed, fingers desperately grabbing the blanket for leverage. Leon brings his lips back to your neck and starts sucking the skin. Hard and persistent, not letting go. Making sure he leaves a mark there for everyone to see. To stake his territory.

“Fuck me, Leon. Please… Need you so bad…” You say, desperately clawing at his neck, begging him to do something.

His growl is dark and low, his lips leaving your neck. Before you even get the chance to react, you’re pushed onto your front, your face pressed into the pillow. He’s up behind you, pressing his weight on top of you. He moves your butt slightly up, giving him the best view of your slick heat. You feel him now, rubbing himself against the cleft of your ass.

“The amount of times I have imagined you sprawled out before me like a God damn feast…”

You interrupt him. Too impatient, too needy. 

“P-Please, no more waiting… Take me, please…”

His expression shifts, going from calm and patient to dark and hungry. His hand reaches for the back of your head, wrapping around your hair, pulling it into a ponytail. 

“So fucking needy… Want a real man to take care of you, huh? Want me to let out all my frustrations on you?”

“Y-Yes! Please Leon…” You’re interrupted by a pull on your hair. Your neck is arched, your mouth agape, your half-lidded eyes drunk from arousal. His naked chest makes contact with your back. His hot breath hits the back of your neck. Another growl emits from his throat.

“You better hang on, sweetheart. Because I ain’t going easy on ya.”

He enters you, hard, more urgent than yesterday. You hang on to the blanket, taking his cock, grabbing it like a vice. A loud moan escapes you, already too far gone to form a coherent sentence. 

His dark laugh is the only thing you hear, combined with the sound of his thighs making contact with your ass. The noise is filthy, so obscene… You can do nothing but moan and take it. You feel his calloused fingers at your cunt, giving you the pleasure you’ve been searching for.

“S-Such a good girl. So perfect… My girl.”

He whispers more filthy things throughout your lovemaking, his movements on your clit never ceasing. He fucks you through it, harder and faster than you could have ever imagined. Chasing pleasure until you’ve both reached your peak. 

You spent your morning like that. And the one after that. And the one after. Never getting tired of each other’s presence. Being close and intimate whenever you get the chance. 

Yeah… You could definitely get used to this, to loving him.

3 months later

Somewhere in the outskirts of Raccoon City…

“Team Beta, there’s another horde headed your way. Stay sharp.” 

You swallow thickly, hearing Chris’s voice through the intercom. Tightening your grip on the sniper rifle, you keep aiming at the small alley down the street. 

Leon’s voice cuts through. “Duly noted, team Alpha. Over and out.”

The cold wind blows through your hair, the tips of your fingers becoming slightly colorless from the amount of time you’ve been lying on top of the roof. You’re on the seventh floor, a large open space with a hole in the middle where there was once a door, leading to the floor below. A few old, rusted satellite dishes had survived, all lined up next to each other on the far side of the roof. The metal softly cracks behind you, groaning with every gust of wind.

You’re lying at the edge, the barrel of your gun aimed down, waiting for the so-called ‘new wave’ of infected. Your eyes are sharp, ears peeled, finger on the trigger, ready to shoot. You control your breathing, preparing yourself for the new onslaught. 

“Easy tiger… Deep breath now. You can do it.”

You look away from the alley, slightly startled by Leon’s voice sounding through the intercom. Your gaze goes to the roof connected to yours. 

He’s there, also flat on his stomach. A sniper rifle gripped tightly in his hands, gaze completely on you. Even from far away you can see his blue eyes piercing into you. There’s a soft smile on his face. A way of telling you it’s gonna be ok. Just like it always is.

You give him a nod in return, a small smile on your face. You turn your gaze back to the alley, looking through the scope of your gun. You slightly blush at the way he's watching you. Always on guard, even more so for you than for himself.

You listen to his advice, taking in a deep breath, willing your body to calm down. Seconds pass, and surely, one infected makes its way out of the alley. And then another, and another... Until a full horde of zombies is running onto the street.

You don’t hesitate. "Got visual, engaging right now." You say through the intercom. Leon follows suit. Both of you taking down infected, one after the other. You always aim for the head, only needing one bullet as you always tend to make a clean shot. The infected get no chance to run away, your reaction too fast for them.

Leon's trying his best. Of course, he always hits his target but he only manages to make body shots, making it seem like sniping is something only you excel at. 

There's at least twenty infected on the street now, trying to get away from the onslaught Chris has put on them. He had drawn them out, using one of his grenades to send them running off like a herd of animals. 

And if you’re wondering about where his fellow comrade, Jason, is… Well, Chris had decided it’s better for himself to work alone, feeling like the dynamic between him and Jason just didn’t work out anymore. He had disposed of the younger man, relying on you or Leon if he ever needed help. Leon might have given him a little nudge towards that decision, but who are you to judge? Back to the task at hand, it's up to you and Leon's to take out the infected as swiftly as possible.

You work like a well-oiled machine, your finger never hesitating to pull the trigger, killing every infected your eyes come across. You're so fast, you even take out a few infected running on Leon's side. His shots go straight through the chest, halting them but never enough to take them down. It’s your one bullet, going through the head, that kills them every single time.

You hear a low groan through the intercom. A sound you have grown to recognise all too well.

"Careful love… Or I might have to bend you over the nearest railing." 

You almost choke on your own spit, eyes wide, the mission completely forgotten. His words tend to have that effect on you. You look at the other roof, searching for him. He's already watching you, a hungry mischievous look in his eyes. 

Ever since the two of you have become intimate with each other, Leon has grown more bold in expressing himself. Especially when it comes to the whole sex department. He likes to tell you now whatever he’s got on his mind. What he wants and what he needs. He learned soon that whenever he wants to initiate sex, gets hard or wants to please you, he should just do it. Instead of holding back like he did in those first few weeks. 

He used to hide his longing for you, thinking you’re not on the same page as him yet because you’re less experienced. Well… Let’s just say you taught him to act on his urges instead of holding himself back. You may be less experienced, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want it just as much. On the contrary, you’re convinced you’re needier for him than he is for you. A statement Leon will fight you on until his last breath. 

You often argue about that. Which of the two loves the other the most. Neither of you give in most of the time, which often results in you ending up underneath him, your arms held above your head and your legs spread wide open for him. He’d dominate you, moan in your ear how much he loves you while taking what belongs to him. Something he has taught you over the past couple of months, is that It’s not your cunt anymore. It’s his. His to have, his to use, his to pleasure. With your consent of course. But when you give him that… A primitive side takes over him. 

He’d rock your bodies together and rub your clit in the process. Whatever position you were in, he’d always please you. Whatever place you’d do it in, he’d always make sure you were enjoying it. The surface beneath you, whether it be a bed, a table, his Porsche… It would groan underneath his strong thrusting. The sound filling the space together with the obscene noise of your slick cunt and his body connecting with yours. His stamina would never waver, despite his age. Always making love to you until you have come at least a few times. 

After that, he’d wrap his hand around your throat. Just softly squeezing, never enough to hurt you. He’d make you apologize to him. For doubting his love for you. For thinking anything could compare to the way he feels about you. Of course, he knows you love him, immensely so, but if anything were to happen to you… He’d burn down the world to find whoever was responsible. 

You hear one of Chris's defeated sighs through the intercom just as Leon finishes his sentence.  Leon sat down with him the next day after what happened at the conservatory. Never going into any details but explaining well enough what’s going on between you two. Chris had listened and told Leon he was a fool for throwing everything away for some ‘girl’ who’s younger than him. They had a little bickering about the subject, but in the end Chris realized this wasn’t something Leon would just forget about. He saw the way Leon looked at you, could see your love clear as day whenever the two of you were together. This isn’t just an ordinary fling. No, this is something far more precious. 

Needless to say, Chris has grown accustomed to Leon’s lack of filter every time he talks to you. With the occasional eyeroll or irritated groan he’d get on with his day. Chris has known for a long time now, though he would never tell anyone. Leon made him promise that. And as a lifelong friend, Chris would honor that promise, having seen the way you’ve changed his best friend’s life for the better. He wouldn’t tell anyone. Not a living soul. Just as long as the two of you stay professional. 

Grinning to yourself, you decide to tease Leon a little, continuing the exact same way as before. You keep track of which infected he shoots at, quickly aiming at its head to finish the job. He doesn’t say anything at first, thinking it was just coincidence, that you looked at the same infected at the same time, because your shot hit only milliseconds after his one. But then you do it again a moment later to another infected he’s shooting at. And then to the one running after that, and the one after that, and after that… It’s after you steal his sixth kill, you start to hear his heavy breathing through the intercom again.

“You are treading on very thin ice, my love…” You stop aiming and look towards him again. Leon’s blue eyes seem to have turned red from the fire burning within. You feel yourself getting excited, seeing the little smirk plastered on his face. He’s only playing with you. Trying to see how far you’d go to get him riled up. He told you once how hard he gets whenever he sees you like this. Shooting a gun, all brave and independent. Excelling at a man’s job. 

You only return his smirk, sending him a wink. “You’ve just got to be quicker than me, Kennedy. Aim higher.”

His low growl goes through the intercom, making the little hairs on your body stand up and your heart beat in anticipation. His knuckles have turned white from gripping his rifle too hard, the veins in his arms protruding as his lustful gaze remains on you. Challenging you. Waiting to see what you’ll do next.

You heard the sound of a soft beep, meaning you have lost connection with someone. When you look at your phone, lying on the concrete next to you, you see Chris has decided to shut his earpiece off. 

Now with no one able to hear what’s being said between you and Leon, you decide to go a little further. 

Looking back through the scope you look at the remaining two infected running in the middle of the road. It almost looks too easy. You take one while Leon kills the other… Should be quite simple, right? Unfortunately for him, that’s not something you feel like doing.

You aim your rifle, having them both in your vizor. You don’t shoot yet, waiting for the right moment, index finger ready to pull the trigger. Leon’s ahead of you, not noticing what you’re up to. His shot is quiet and precise, thanks to his silencer. The bullet misses the head once again and goes through the chest. The infected almost loses his footing, stumbling backwards, aligning perfectly with the second infected running behind it. 

You take the shot. Your bullet flies straight, going not only through the first zombie’s head, but through the second one as well. Blood splatters everywhere as you put them down in a mere second. Turns out, Leon only helped you take the perfect shot, instead of showing you who’s boss.

With the last infected down, it becomes eerily quiet. The blowing wind is the only sound your ears are able to register.

A few seconds pass before you dare look to your right again. Your blood runs cold, your breath hitches, when you realize... Leon's not there anymore. The spot he had been lying in for a good thirty minutes, is now completely empty. No sign of him whatsoever. 

You raise yourself up on your knees, your eyes wide and lips slightly parted, worried that something might have happened to him. You reach for the handgun strapped at your side, ready to get up and search him. 

You stop your movements when all of a sudden, you feel a presence behind you, soundless, lurking, trying to get closer to you without you noticing. You quickly turn around, still on your knees, and aim your gun at the suspected threat. Only to find Leon at the other end of the gun. Your Leon. 

His sniper rifle was slung over his shoulder, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. He takes off his combat gloves while stalking closer towards you, a predatory glint in his eyes, like he's preparing himself to pounce at you. He sees the gun in your hand, but never falters. He knows you'd never hurt him.

"Oh you've done it now, sweetheart..."

His words are careful, said almost like a threat. But you know deep down that he's just teasing, itching to get his hands on you. To take some form of revenge for outshooting him like that. You lower your gun and put it back into the holster, raising one leg to place your foot on the ground. You carry a mischievous glint in your eyes, ready to play this game with him. Ready to take on the challenge. 

He notices your stance, how tense your body is. How you're preparing yourself to make a run for it. He laughs to himself. Something you still need to learn is that, no matter how hard you try, you can never run away from him. Oh how fearless you are. His brave little soldier…

Everything happens in the split of a second. One moment you’re on your knees, and the other you’re diving to the right. You push yourself onto your feet, willing your legs to start moving as you run off into a sprint. You hear Leon’s roar of laughter behind you, the loud thumping of his footsteps as he runs after you.

When you turn around, you see him hot on your heels. You let out a playful shriek, quickening your pace even more. Nearing the edge, you prepare to jump to the roof Leon was on. A distance that is easy to cross.

Leon runs after you like his life depends on it, needing to wrap you in his arms. Have you with him, safe and sound. These past couple of months, he has finally been happy. In love and thankful for how things turned out. To spend every living moment with the woman he’d sacrifice anything for. 

You. His love. His reason to live. 

His new purpose.

The End ˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

Author's note: I'm so sorry if the grammar sucks in this. Also feel free to tell me if the smut is terrible so I can never write it again lol. Anyway if you made it this far... Thank you so much reading my work and for all your support! <3 ⋆ . ࿔ ˚

Well this is the end of 'A New Purpose' I guess. I may return in the future and write a spin-off for this series, but I'm not sure yet. If you're interested, let me know what you would like to see!

I changed the lay-out of my fic for this as well. I wonder if you guys like this more than how I did it previously...

Much love,

Poppi ⋆. 𐙚 ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Taglist: @xtamanones @whoisthisdlva @eraiine @stinkystick @raybreee@caroline-the-cat @cosmicsharkie @gabithefanwriter @leonniekennedy @wastedpanda @noodlestheexplorer @meowieees @defvia @eftalyasaid @kennedysbbyy @midnighttreesgaming @sweetsassytaegi@soopopop@charlotte-26s-blog@valentinevampp@midnighttreesgaming@villain-in-the-dark@nocturnalstar@leonslutmeoutkennedy@hispanicatsumu@enagmaticether@aizawasprimarybabymama@gvtznbonez@1-800-bxrnes@finns-drafts@ninacutebee16@wonstruck7 @gaelle1603 @pinkcatnight

[defvia]

I haven’t been able to finish this bcs of my work 🥲 (Also, I dont want it to finish yet)

[kings-scholar]

leon kennedy the man you are <3

[tojicide]

IF YOU WANT A LOVER ☆ LEON KENNEDY

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: it had been a stupid fight—the kind that should’ve ended with you begrudgingly crawling into leon’s lap with his arms pulling you close like you’d never left. instead, he was forced to leave for his mission, unresolved tension simmering between you. two weeks later, he’s back and intent on making it up to you.

warnings: (18+) smut, some fluff, older bf!leon, age gap, established relationship, pet names (baby and sweetheart), make up/reunion sex, unprotected p in v, me being really horny about leon’s biceps and hands

word count: 3.3k

music choice: i’m your man by leonard cohen.

masterlist | request

The door creaks open at half past two.

Leon entered quietly, trying his best to keep quiet and avoid waking you. Though, he couldn’t help the way his feet dragged on the carpet, the floor protesting against his weight with each step.

You take a deep breath before sliding out of bed, palm rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes. Heart thumping in your chest, you aren’t quite sure what the cause of it is this time—his return home, safely, in one piece, or the fact that your tiff had been left unresolved. You figure it’s a mixture of the two, an uncomfortable one that swirls like nervousness personified in your stomach. 

Hand resting on the wall, you peek out from behind the corner. Leon had damn near collapsed on the couch, head tipped back with his eyes shut. For a moment, you wondered whether to approach him now or bother him in the morning.

Only, you didn’t have a chance to make that decision before Leon’s head picked up, those tired eyes searching your face in the dim light. His jaw tenses, innate stubbornness wrestling with how much he’s missed you, before he exhales through his nose. Relenting. The moment his gaze drops to the shirt you’re wearing—his shirt that swallows you whole—he realizes that he has no chance in hell at staying upset with you.

“Hey, you,” he says, his voice rough from lack of sleep, yet softer than usual. 

Leon shifts on the couch, making space without asking you to come closer. It was a stubborn man’s apology if you’d ever seen one. And when you don’t come near, he looks away, expression almost shy, fingers still tapping absently against his thigh.

You only make him wait a few seconds longer before you approach, bare feet padding softly on the carpet. When you lower yourself onto his lap, you feel the way Leon’s entire body loosens—like he’d been all wound up without realizing it. Like clockwork, his arm curls around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest.

Head tucked under his chin, you melt into him too, like a homecoming postponed two weeks too long. “Hey,” you finally whisper back.

Leon’s free hand lifts, brushing over your hair. He presses his face into it, inhaling your scent while his eyes come to a close. “Missed you, baby.”

Your fingers fumble with the hem of his shirt, something to keep your hands distracted. He seems to notice, wrapping his large, rough hand around yours. His thumb strokes the back of your hand before he brings it up, pressing his lips to your knuckles.

“You still mad at me?” he asks, chin nudging the top of your head, a silent ask for you to meet his eyes.

And when you do, you can practically see the way the older man melts for you. He releases your hand, placing it on his shoulder, then cups your cheek. It was a habit of his, just looking at you like this. Especially when he returns home from missions, his words and energy having been wrung dry. His touch communicates just how happy he is to see you, safe and sound. 

“Mm-hmm,” you hum, though you betray your response by pressing your cheek more firmly to his palm.

You watch as a lazy smile tugs on the corner of his mouth, thumb rubbing your cheek. He pulls you in, lips pressing to the top of your head, and then once more to your forehead. 

He lingers for a moment before pulling back just enough to catch your eye. “We gonna talk about it?”

You shrug, noncommittal. “If you want to.”

Leon’s mouth twitches, very easily reading in between the lines and picking up on the hidden subtexts in every word you say by this point. His fingers trail down your arm.

“I shouldn’t have left you like that,” he murmurs, hand coming down to rest on your thigh, thumb stroking your skin. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Should’ve apologized before I left. Made it right.”

When you lower your head to his shoulder, Leon feels somewhat better. Maybe he was better at using his words than he thought. Or maybe you were just tired, sleepy, needing rest. It was the middle of the night, after all.

But when you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing even closer to him, he begins to feel more confident in the former. 

Leon turns, lips to your temple. “Still mad at me?”

“Kinda,” you mumble against his neck, nodding. “But I’m too tired to do anything about it right now.”

Leon hums, the sound vibrating against you as his arms tighten around your waist to pull you more securely against his chest. “Lucky me,” he whispers, and even though you can’t see his face, you can hear the proud smirk on it. 

One hand slides up your back, settling between your shoulder blades. “Let’s go to bed, yeah? We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

Nodding with your voice muffled against his skin, you say, “Take us to bed.” 

Leon tuts. “Bossy.”

But even as he says it, he’s already moving to hoist you up. His arm hooks beneath your legs, lifting you as though you weighed nothing. Sneakily, you peek an eye open, admiring the way his bicep looks from this angle.

Years of working out, excessive training, the grueling missions—they’ve paid off, at least in this way—a way you could admire.

Leon nudges the bedroom door closed behind him before depositing you gently on the bed. He strips out of his clothes until he is left in his boxers, each article thumping to the ground, before climbing in behind you without a word.

“Not bossy,” you mutter as you lean back against his chest.

Leon huffs, a sound between a laugh and a scoff, his breath stirring the hairs at the back of your neck. “Right,” he quietly replies, lips just barely skimming the shell of your ear, “you’re just very politely demanding.”

His arm wraps around your waist, and he tugs you back against him while he pulls the blanket up. The warmth of his body soothed all of your aches and pains, his chest molding against your back. You raise your head, and like routine, Leon lays down his arm, his bicep pillowing your head.

“You’re lucky I like it when you’re bossy.”

You reach for his hand, splayed over your stomach, lacing your fingers with his. “I know you do.”

Leon replies by brushing his thumb over your fingers, face pressing into the back of your neck. For a long moment, the only sound to be heard is the synchronicity of your breathing, the occasional shift beneath the covers.

Another caress comes in the form of muffled words against your neck, “I missed you.”

You press more firmly against him, testing the waters. “I missed you too.”

When he doesn’t answer, you worry that he might be falling asleep. You should want him to rest and catch up on lost sleep. But selfishly—and selfish is what you can be when it comes to Leon’s attention—you press against him again, wiggling your ass just a bit more, because you just can’t help it. It’d been two weeks. Two long, torturous weeks. 

You nearly smile when you hear him groan into your ear, feeling emboldened by such a quiet sound. Steeling yourself, you press your back to his front again, and this time, you can feel his erection press back.

Shifting to do it again, Leon’s hand comes down on your hip, halting your movement in his iron grip. “What’re ya doing? I thought my girl was still mad at me.”

Leon’s voice produces a heat that travels through your body, making your heart rate double in your chest. It was groggy and deep, rumbling in his chest with each word he said. You would’ve squirmed if his hand hadn’t brushed your hair away from your neck, his lips replacing it.

“I am still mad at you,” you say, doing your best to stabilize your voice, lest you whine midway through your sentence. 

He laughs in your ear, the sound tired and deep, while his fingertips skim the skin of your stomach, slipping beneath the old band T-shirt that you found in the closet. 

“I’m sure you are, baby,” he says, lips now encouraged to press an open-mouthed kiss to the spot just beneath your ear. 

You gasp as his hand flattens on your stomach, pressing you against him until the scant distance between you is no more. He takes one of your breasts into his palm, squeezing gently.

“I am,” you choke out, though you aren’t even convincing yourself anymore. 

Leon hums, naturally unconvinced. He kneads the softness of your breast in his hand, lips traveling the slope of your neck. “Then let me kiss it better. Can’t have my baby mad at me forever, can I?”

You’ve never known a love quite like Leon’s. He was gentle in a way guys your age usually aren’t. Never impatient, never rushing. Would rather touch your body in ways that make it sing than ever use it as a means to an end.

Leon pushes the shirt up your torso, pulling it off and over your head in one gentle movement. His hand cradles the back of your head as you lie back down, lips on the tip of your nose before they land on your lips.

Even now, you notice it.

Hands that rub and knead, rather than pinch and pull. Teeth kept behind the lips that kiss your skin rather than bite into it.

A whimper leaves your lips as his fingertips smooth down your torso, tracing the hem of your panties. 

Leon kisses your shoulder, eyes on the side of your face. “Can you do me a favor, sweetheart?”

You nod your head, rewarded with a kiss to your cheek. “Y-Yes.”

He smiles against your skin; you can feel it. “Spread your legs for me. Help an old man out.”

Heat burns your cheeks, a tingling sensation traces the curve of your spine, and you nearly squirm at the feeling. A part of you feels too vulnerable like this, even now, even when you know that Leon isn’t the big bad wolf who’s out to hurt you.

The rough pad of his thumb strokes your lower stomach, lips finding the underside of your jaw, planting soft kisses that only stoke the fire within you. All of it was patient. Pressureless. 

As you lift your thigh, his hand smooths over the inner side, keeping you spread open. “There you go,” he praises, hand resting on your knee as he waits for you to get comfortable in this new position.

Leon flexes his bicep beneath your head, an attempt to get your attention. When you tilt your head back to meet his gaze, he lowers to meet you where you are, lips pressing to yours.

You whine into his mouth, hips twitching as his hand properly slips between your legs, cupping your mound. Before you know it, his fingers slip beneath the damp fabric, sliding through your folds with ease.

“F-Fuck,” you stutter.

He groans, and you can feel his cock twitch against your ass. “Left my pretty girl so pent up. Gonna let me do right by you now?”

You nod against his lips, and his hand slips lower, gathering your wetness on his fingertips before bringing them to your clit, circling the pearl at a speed he knows you love. Not too little, but not too much. Just enough.

You pull away from his kiss, burying your face into his arm beneath your head. A whine of his name makes his fingers slip down, two fingers prodding your entrance to work you open. 

In response, your thighs threaten to close around his hand, but he uses the strength of his forearm to keep your legs spread, fingers never stopping their pursuit. 

His lips skim your ear, voice rough with arousal. “Missed this pretty pussy—shit, squeezing my fingers so tight. She missed me too, huh?”

A whine escapes you as you shift your hips, eager for more. “Yes— fuck, I want you.” Your hand slips between the two of you, just fingertips, just barely running over the thick print of his erection. “Want this—”

Leon damn near whimpers in your ear, forehead dropping onto your shoulder. “Shit, none of that, sweetheart— gonna make me cum before I even get to be inside ya. Don’t want that, do we?”

You shake your head, a small pout forming on your lips. He smiles, head dipping to kiss it away. “Don’t gimme that look, pretty baby. You’ll get what ya want, promise.”

Leon continues to fuck you slowly with his fingers, not aiming to overwhelm you. But two weeks apart have turned you greedy.

“Faster,” you say through a breath.

His lips trace your neck. “Mm-mm. How about a please?”

You huff, already impatient. “Faster, please.”

His lips curve up against your skin, but he obliges you anyway. Always does. His fingers quicken in pace, fingers long enough to easily curl inside you, knuckles deep.

The heel of his palm drags against your clit with every thrust of his fingers, the sound of your arousal and pleasure filling the otherwise quiet room. 

Leon kisses your temple, a gentle gesture that contrasts with the movement of his hand. He keeps his eyes on your face, reading each expression. Lips fall onto your cheek. “My beautiful girl.”

You find yourself arching against him, the warmth of his cock twitching back and the heat coiling in your stomach making you moan. Your hand shoots down, wrapping around his wrist, feeling the muscles flex with every move of his hand. “Please, Leon, I’m—”

“I know you are, sweetheart,” he rasps, thumb finding your clit. “I’ve got you. Tell me where it feels good.”

He purposefully slips his fingers in a moment later, fingertips stroking the spot inside of you that makes your thighs begin to shake. The sound you let out is music to his ears, a mix between a whimper and a whine, muffled against his bicep. 

“Right there, baby? Yeah?”

You nod, moans spilling from you as you bury your face in his arm completely. His fingers curl against that spot once more, sending you flying over the edge, completely undone. Your hips rock against his hand as your orgasm washes over you, panting harshly against his skin.

Leon’s fingers work you through it until your entire body goes limp against him, withdrawing them entirely. He brings his hand up to his mouth, licking his fingers clean of your release, groaning at the taste.

Still panting from your climax, you find yourself pressing back into Leon once more, his erection fitting snug against your ass. 

You can hear him chuckle against your neck. “So soon?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum in response, fingers just barely slipping beneath the waistband of his underwear. “Unless you need to catch your breath…rest your joints. I know you have your senior moments from time to time.”

Leon catches your wrist in a firm grip and uses your arm to roll you onto your back. He nudges your thighs apart once more, fingers hooking into the sides of your underwear to slide the flimsy fabric down your legs.

“C’mon, sweetheart, don’t get all bratty on me ‘cause you’re getting impatient,” he says, voice rumbling against your skin as he presses a kiss on your hip bone. 

You try not to squirm—to act affected at all—as he licks a stripe over your puffy slit, just enough to taste you from the source. “W-Well, all I’m hearing is more stalling.”

Leon clicks his tongue, shaking his head. He presses a kiss on your inner thigh before pulling back, resting his weight on his heels. Tugging his boxers down, he easily kicks them away, until you’re both left just as naked as the day you were born.

His hand wraps around his shaft, stroking himself while positioning his leaking tip at your entrance. “There’s nothing elderly about how I fuck this pussy, baby, you know that.”

Your eyes widen, glued to the movement of his hand as he settles between your thighs once more. His cock seems bigger every time you see it, the head flushed a pretty pink color and beading with the evidence of his arousal.

You gulp, still trying to seem brave. “N-No? It’s just been so long, I guess I forgot.”

Rather than reprimanding you, Leon laughs under his breath, hands smoothing over your thighs as he pulls you closer, tip catching your entrance. “Such a brat,” he muses, voice light.

He slants his hips before you can rattle off another dull jab, sliding inside your warmth, cock snug inside you. His lips are on your neck almost immediately.  

Your fingers card into his hair, lightly tugging at the root. “Oh, fuck, Leon—”

Another roll of his hips, another moan earned from your kiss-bruised lips.

He keeps his hands planted on your hips, thumbs stroking over the widest points. “Thought about you the whole time I was gone— shhit, baby, don’t squeeze me so tight.”

You gasp as he tilts your hips up just right, enough for his tip to reach the deepest point inside you. “Y-You did?”

Leon pants against your neck, kisses trailing up the side of your face, hot and wet. “‘Course I did. Wanted to—fuck, there ya go—get back home to my pretty girl.”

You turn your head to catch his mouth with your own, hands coming to cup both sides of his face. “I love you. ‘M sorry I’m such a—hah—brat. Missed you s’much.”

He twitches inside you with a groan into your mouth.

Leon is close, and he can feel that you are too. 

He smooths a hand over your forehead, brushing your hair from your face. “I love you too, baby. Always gonna.” 

You love this feeling. Being so full of him, so warm and loved. Hands in his hair, on his shoulders, raking down his back. Legs wrapping around his hips, keeping him near.

Leon breaks your kiss only to murmur against your cheek, “Fuck— gotta pull out, baby. Perfect pussy’s gonna make me cum.”

Ankles lock around his hips. Your mouth is back on his. “Mm-mm. Inside.”

A sound in between a gasp and a laugh leaves him, pulling away from the kiss just enough to look down at you. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, sweetheart. Say you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” your response comes faster than lightning. “I-I’m gonna cum!”

Leon’s hips stutter in response to you clenching down on him like a vice. He laces his fingers in yours like it was his first instinct, free hand slipping between you to rub your clit.

He watches your face, brought closer to the edge himself with every pinch of your brows and drop of your lips. “There it is, atta girl. So pretty when you cum.”

Your orgasm strikes you, hot and bright and as intense as electricity. Your hips jerk up into his, your veins thrumming with a pleasure that you’ve long been waiting for.

Just as you fall against him, Leon is there to catch you, hips buried to the hilt. Head tucked into your shoulder, you feel the moment he spills inside you. He cums with a choked sound against your skin, his hips stuttering until he empties himself, still buried snug inside you.

Eyes opening, you still see stars. You almost have to remind yourself how to breathe. 

Lips on your shoulder. “Love you.”

A kiss on your forehead, hands pressing against the mattress on either side of your head as he stands up. By the time your eyes open, he’s back with a damp rag and a glass of water to your lips.

Cleaned up and sleepy, he slides into bed behind you once more, arm slung lazily over your middle.

You fall asleep in his arms a quarter past four.

masterlist | request

an: i finally wrote something after having writers block for months on end everyone cheer !!! sorry if it’s lowk trash, i’ve been out of the writers room for so longggg 😞

please let me know ur thoughts!!!! ❤️❤️