Hi loves, I did one of these years ago but thought it was probably time to revisit it! I’m Ice, I like to write. I’m not limited to one fandom space, on my Ao3 and Wattpad I’ve written for about twelve different fandoms so there’s likely to be something you like on my blog 💙
A lot of what I post is intended for adult audiences only. If you are below the age of 18, this space is not for you.
I’m also on Ao3 or Wattpad under the same name, a lot of my works are published there but I’m toying with the idea of posting some stuff on here as well.
Currently in a bit of a dry spot in terms of writing, please send requests through the ask box so I can try write something 🥴
Hi. I’m lazynova. And I’m fucking bored. So I wanna ask yall, who is Leon married to? At least who YOU think he’s married to. I’ll start first. I believe it to be Claire.
Let me explain:
First off, let me explain why I think it’s a wedding ring and NOT a family ring.
In the finale, after curing his t-Virus infection, he ditches the gloves, fiddles with his pocket, and walks off with a telltale glint on that finger—implying he slipped it back on.
Capcom is intentionally signaling that Leon "settled down with a family" arc amid Raccoon City nostalgia.
Now for why I think it’s Claire:
No explicit reveal (classic Capcom ), but narrative breadcrumbs point her way: RE9's Raccoon ruins force Leon to reflect on his origins (RE2), where Sherry begged Claire and him to adopt her—setting up a found-family vibe that aged into romance.
Also, it s canon that Leon’s relationship with sherry a Claire is the reason why he didn’t kill himself. (I think. I can’t remember correctly right now)
Ada's the spicy "frenemy" eternal flame (kiss in RE2R, RE4 pining, director Nakanishi loves their drama), but her spy life screams not being able to settle down, only go after the next mission.
Also, the remake kinda changes their dynamic. In RE2 Remake, the director emphasized Leon and Claire having "crush" chemistry in their interactions. RE4 Remake makes Leon more distrustful and "over" Ada. This subtle pivot pushes Claire as the emotional anchor over Ada's flirtatious tension.
More reasons why I think it isn’t Ada:
She's a spy/mercenary who thrives on secrecy, double-crosses, and vanishing into thin air. Settling down with rings and domestic life contradicts her core character-freedom, mystery, moral ambiguity. Leon pines for her ("part of me I can't let go" in RE4).
but their "frenemy" dynamic is built on tension, not stability. RE9 keeps her as an absent Easter egg (charm reference, lingering presence), not a partner. If it were Ada, Capcom would've teased more romantic callbacks; instead, it's nostalgia-heavy on RE2/Claire vibes with Sherry’s presence, and her charm being called ‘Trusted Companion’ instead of ‘Trusted Friend’
Anyway, that’s it. I wrote this due to boredom and sleep deprivation. Do yall agree? Disagree?
Edit:
I forgot something else about why it can’t be ada. THAT BITCH IS A WANTED CRIMINAL!
She is a spy that has betrayed counter bioterorrism organizations, AND helped WITH the bioterorrism. Legally LEON AND ADA WOULD BE FUCKED!
synopsis: leon realizes that there was a much bigger reason to come back into your life, after all.
tags: re9!leon x afab!teacher, possessive!jealous!narcissistic!leon, protective!leon; angst ahead: blackmail, coercion, revenge porn, sexual coercion, sexual humiliation, homicide, misogynistic language, character death (suicide), mentions of following diseases: dementia and potential schizophrenia/psychosis (i understand that all of these tags are very heavy subjects but y’all need to let a law student cook for a single second please) ; christianity: author takes God’s perspective through a biblical lens and describes the plan as “perfectly orchestrated”; strong christian themes: vindication, downfall, redemption, pattern repetition; happy ending/smut/fluff: pussy kissing/sniffing/talking, pussydrunk!leon, assdrunk!leon, perverted!leon, dickdrunk!reader, p in v sex, oral (both receiving), anilingus (f receiving), possessive/intense sex, mind break, body worship, praise kink, daddy kink (excessive usage and the pet names that come with that kink), squirting, spanking, leon calls you mommy twice and mamacita once (had to laugh when i wrote it no lie), mentions of: bad bunny (yes!! lmfao!! our benito made it!!!); leon is extremely funny, you both go to pound town (yaaasss!!! we know dada!!! period dick us down!!!); author mentions the president but pretends it’s not the one in office
wc: 28 k (Part One; Part two has 14k) I a/n: hey baddies. the final chapter of the reign trilogy is here. tumblr wont let me upload the entire chapter because it has 42k words in total. so here’s part one of the final chapter. this is the smut part so to say. i honestly went full kevin gates and antonio when i wrote it im sorry (idgaf tbh i need dada so there’s that). pls check out part two of the final chapter </3 scared to death that yall wont see it…. anyways. i hope u guys enjoy it. you can find chapter one here I chapter two here I and now all the baddies say in unison: we KNOW dada!!! period!!!
"What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun."
A quote from Roman lawyer and philosopher Marcus Tullius Cicero from his work De Legibus:
There is no similarity, no likeness of one thing to another, so great as the likeness we all share. If distorted habits and false opinions did not twist weak minds and bend them in any direction, no one would be so like himself as all people would be like all others. Thus, whatever definition of a human being one adopts is equally valid for all humans.
Definition: Butterfly Effect
The butterfly effect is a chaos theory concept describing how tiny, initial changes can cause massive, unpredictable, and unforeseen consequences over time.
The skyline was shrouded in a charcoal like haze – dull and ashy – perfectly orchestrating Leon’s inner conundrum, swirling up the last bristled remains that were left within him. The floor-to-ceiling windows in his living room allowed him to watch the clouds, moving fast, turning and twisting as he sat on his black leathered couch, the glass disrupting the silence upon impact – rain starting to trickle down.
The entire situation was bleak, a sharp dagger to his heart. So much so that Leon hadn’t truly left his house ever since what had occurred eight months ago; he started sleeping a lot more so he could meet you in his dreams instead. When awake, he took his time to think about his actions - why it had happened and why God allowed it to happen despite Leon’s best attempts of putting God’s interests at the forefront, as well as yours – trying to make amends, trying to change, trying to be a better person.
It was as if someone had known what was going on inside Leon’s heart – waylaying, a Judas, betraying him and putting him in a situation he was too familiar with. The constant reoccurring theme of trouble and drama emerging had Leon reflect that perhaps you weren’t his to begin with, that you two weren’t meant to be by design, but merely his hope and his love for you that led him to believe you had a place in his life – but at best a placeholder - and wasn’t allowed to be in his life at all. That’s how it felt: you were forbidden, prohibited from being with him - simply a golden statue: an emblem that represented his first true love and a heart so pure that Leon had started to believe that you were an angel from Heaven.
As he held your polaroid in betwixt his thumb and pointer, he reminisced of what it felt like to be with you, and it made him bawl his eyes out – his chin and lips contracting unable to hold back the tears, trying to clench his jaw as a final attempt but to no avail.
He didn’t know what he did to deserve it – perhaps it was his pride in having you, but wouldn’t that be hypocritical of God to punish him for such thing when the Canticles, a collection of lyrical love poems in the Bible, did exactly that? Rich imagery of admiration and affection for their interest, mutual pining between two lovers who spent their days dreaming about kissing and touching each other?
Leon was a lustful man, sure, no person would argue that, but what he felt for you was solely reserved for you – no wandering eye, no secret affair lingering in the shadows of his heart. You consumed his soul, mind and body. And it was terrible enough that he had to live through another devasting situation, in which he was yet again, facing backlash and trapped in a predicament for which he was entirely innocent – again, mind you.
Leon did not do this to you – he would never, he promised you and stood by his words. Everything he told you was nothing but the truth despite his wretched ways, and somehow, Leon had a final battle to face, as if God wanted to show him that he had an opponent that was just as lethal as him, a Goliath, just as intelligent, just as strategic, if not worse than Leon, because Leon was extremely transparent about his shortcomings.
Leon spent a lot of time praying. And then he felt the need to open a chapter in the Bible in which it stated that the devil was prowling around like a wolf, ready to seize, therefore, followers of his word, needed to take heed. It was paradox, because Leon had believed all his life that he was exactly that – he met his perfect match with that analogy: a ravenous wolf who took no chances and bent sheep to his will, flocking them.
But the worst type of villain was the one pretending to be a sheep – to be blameless. Someone who was nothing but a people pleaser - someone who benefited from his status by overseeing children to gain him the approval he craved, someone who twisted and turned situations to his advantage by giving gifts or offering compliments to those around him. And it made sense; the Bible also talked about the devil masquerading himself as an angel of light to blind people: he comes as everything one so desperately desires.
Leon now knew why – it made sense why he felt that Logan was no good match for you from get-go. Again, instinct doesn’t equate proof, but there was something about him that Leon couldn’t pinpoint upon meeting him when he pulled him over - it was…. sinister. A pit of pure darkness, it made the air around him chill.
After all it takes one - a complex, dichotomic person - to know that someone’s possibly a fraud.
And Logan was one. A big one at that. Leon had bigger fish to catch now. In the beginning, his ego got in the way of seeing things clearly: that Logan was just an airhead, and that Leon could ease his way into your relationship by utilizing him as a means to an end at the right given time - but that…. couldn’t be further from the truth. Oh God.
No, Logan was not only smart but meticulously calculating – always two, if not ten, steps ahead.
Which made Leon realize that he pretended to be dense on purpose whenever Leon was around you the first weeks. Logan used you as bait to get his way, his odyssey of justice he shared with your father coming to a last stand, a turning point for Leon in which he would very likely end up in prison just like Samson did.
But Logan falsely believed that Leon was going to give up just like that. That he was going to raise the white flag and call it quits. If Logan had taken a moment to rethink his next chess move more carefully - to thoroughly consider his final decision to force Leon into a checkmate - he probably wouldn’t have picked this fight with Kennedy. He would have stayed the hell away, at all costs.
Leon was ready to crush the pillars of the chapel in which you were standing with Logan at that very moment. He would show no regard for who was going to perish, except it couldn’t be you anymore. Leon was ready to liberate you from the lies that you’d been fed, and it broke his heart – truly.
Why did someone like you have to get ambushed, over and over again? You never did anything wrong; you wouldn’t even hurt a fly. You were the kindest, most compassionate woman that Leon had ever met – beautiful inside and out.
Leon was more ashamed now of his former ways: they were so utterly disgraceful, the fact that he partook in your misery beforehand came to strike him down like a hammer on his head, remembering how he blew up in front of you years ago whenever he didn’t get his way or got jealous.
But this time he didn’t do anything wrong, despite its appearance – a sham for the masses – stating otherwise: that you were a cheater and Leon a terrible confidant, both betraying Logan and that he was a victim.
True, if we were to look at it that way, but if Leon had known about the whole truth sooner, he would have told you that you could have saved yourself the trouble that was brewing within you constantly. You felt guilty for having an affair with Leon, and you even told him time and time again that you feared what would follow if someone found out.
If only you knew, Leon thought to himself.
Perhaps there would be a chance, after all. Not just love and hope blinding him. That thought infiltrated his mind, that the remerging trials and tribulations were indeed a sign of God - that he needed to put an end to the cycle that both haunted and reigned over the both of you.
The curse ran deep in your family and his. Generations upon generations. Family matters – his parents passed narcissistic tendencies onto Leon. He was set to get rid of the shackles that had captured him for so long. And well, what about you?
Your grandmother knew a thing or two about being treated badly by men and being deceived – you weren’t the only victim in your family after all. Your mother was one as well, and both of you unaware, because your father wasn’t who he pretended to be – A storybook family?
Yeah, if only you knew, Leon repeated in his mind.
In truth, your grandmother would have approved of Leon receiving your Christmas cookies. Perhaps, would’ve even saluted him afterwards. Your cookies he had received by Logan were in the shape of bunnies and butterflies, after all.
Also, when he wrote his note after coming back after three years…did it not say this:
“Wherever you are, I am with you. My love guards you at all times, my dear, beloved sweetheart. Forever yours.“
He meant it, clueless at first that it would turn out this way, but he was a man of his word regardless. It was as if everything had already been premeditated, his words on the verge of manifesting into reality.
After the door had creaked open, luckily for you, it didn’t end up being a student, but a colleague of yours, for that matter – she was just as shocked and troubled as you, an acquaintance, willing to help you and locked the door almost immediately. She held you in her arms and comforted you as you were crying, staining her blouse with your tears and makeup.
After having believed that it was Leon who did this to you, you needed help. Immediately. Your solid rock - you called your father and he got there in twenty minutes. He consoled you and looked at the walls – scared beyond belief? Right.
You didn’t show up at home – the one you shared with Logan - not even weeks after, even when Logan kept texting and calling you to find out what was going on with you. You didn’t answer the phone out of remorse - it was a heavy burden of your conscience that ate away at your bones, pulling you down to your knees and hands as you begged for mercy in your parents’ house.
The contrition was so evident that you stopped eating altogether, you were so utterly distraught that you couldn’t even get out of bed. For weeks. And the worst thing was? Leon didn’t text. He didn’t call. He didn’t even try to explain himself for what he “did” to you.
You finally concluded that the love of your life, Leon, took his final revenge on you, and that your father was right after all – that Leon was a terrible, horrible person beyond repair, who took advantage of you in your most vulnerable state and made you pay for the pain he went through.
And this time you wouldn’t give him a third chance. What was it that your father taught you? “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me thrice and I have learned nothing.”
And it seemed you didn’t even learn the second time around, because Leon was someone so irresistible, but you figured other people would be able to sympathize with why you crawled back to him, over and over again, to meet him in his penthouse where he would get you drunk on love and passion.
So, you wanted to break the cycle, you were done with him – forever. His dreams of a merrily ever after he kept spewing were nothing but lies and shameful entertainment for him: an emperor like Nero who sat in the imperial box, watching the arena fight, a clash under the Roman sun where you were once again a jester – at the hands of a mighty figure embodying humiliation. You were done for? Fortunately, no.
So, what happened?
Your father urged you to report it for law enforcement. The classroom got locked as evidence for the police. Logan as vice principal made sure that no one in this school knew about it - it wouldn’t reach students to ensure their safety and mental well-being. Right. Students grew suspicious of the men in uniform rolling in every once and while, heavily laden with equipment - troops of about twenty men every time they paid a visit. And your father decided not to come forth with this case to the public. Yet. Good thing he didn’t do it like last time.
Weeks passed by of deciding of how severe the case was: revenge porn? – first three weeks: an entire investigation that took place as already mentioned. Leon then got arrested after a month and this is where things got interesting.
You see, Leon wanted to do what Logan did to you (poising himself as Leon) – not in the sense you would believe before his arrest. He roped his twelve prodigies into the plan. Leon should have seen it coming: one of his prodgies ratted him out, he had ties to Logan – the cycle continued: three years ago, where a “whistleblower” came forth with Leon’s misuse of standing.
The pattern seeped so deep, Leon’s mind was blown – he was convinced at this point that God was giving him an orchestrated chance to be utilized - for a greater good – on standby: to grant him the honor he once received in his earlier days, when he was celebrated for solving incredibly difficult crime cases revolving around sexual charges. He deemed it a privilege that he was going to be exalted and about to reveal something so despicable that the adversary tried his best to get Leon out with immediate effect.
So, what did Leon’s imposter reveal to Logan? That Leon wanted to cement pictures of Logan with an “unknown” woman, all across his classroom.
Since Leon had a bad feeling about Logan, he made it an assignment to get as much information about him and his prodigies followed his order. The cheat didn’t state who they were – luckily stupid enough to not disclose any faces or names.
So, while Leon was proving his love to you, this is what his protégés did for him for three weeks prior to the classroom incident:
This is where Leon benefitted from his false friendship. Leon’s prodigies would show up at “random” places, bars, bowling allies or restaurants, coffee shops or would go walk in the park, taking pictures of Logan who had an affair with the female principal of the school. When they had collected evidence after two weeks, there was an entire folder of pictures for Leon to store up.
And since this was a grave situation in which the mighty hand above him had strung the right puppets, Leon knew which puppeteer God was hinting at now: Michael. He needed Michael. There was something much bigger behind his affair.
After Jesus got betrayed by Judas, Matthias took Judas’ place, after the apostles prayed for guidance to restore their number to twelve once again – they could have also taken Joseph, but Matthias was chosen. Same initials: coincidence? Could be perceived as superstitious. Right?
However, not a coincidence – like at all. Leon had twenty-two eyes on him. His office tense, the air hung with a deafening silence. He reached out to him a day prior and Michael promised he would show up. The door creaked open, every face turned to the one who was destined to be Leon’s catalyzer.
“Michael,” Leon exhaled, “You came. Holy shit.”
Michael was beaming, closed the door and sat down across from Leon, at a long table. Five on the left, six on the right, and the most important one on the other end – the one who would flip everything upside down: for the better. Michael’s dream of working for the police force came true after all, his occupation beforehand didn’t give Michael a sense of purpose. The stereotype about police men misusing their power didn’t prevent Michael from joining anymore, he was certain that he could make a change and bring back prestige – eventually so that people could trust the police of this district again.
Therefore, Leon’s masterminds showed him pictures of the man that was under Leon’s radar. And for very good reason.
Michael’s body almost evaporated in rage. His eyes shot wide open, his jaw was slacked as if someone had yanked on his chin with one rough pull.
“Holy shit,” Michael seethed, “I know this dude.”
The atmosphere in this room was indescribable. Goosebumps painted Leon’s skin and he almost teared up as he counted his blessings right away. One look to the ceiling, Leon was in shellshock and telepathically thanked God. Leon gulped, his gaze fell back onto Michael who held one picture of Logan – jittery. Michael froze aghast, just as rattled as Leon and both of their eyes met.
“What do you know about him, Michael?”
“Captain...,” Michael breathed out shakily, tremor perforating his entire body. He was speechless. But luckily continued, “I went to college with him.”
Michael was a former American (college) football player as well, just as Logan, in the same team. Both were incredibly talented, both tall, both handsome, and one took advantage of it. Gloating about how many women he would have sex with, Logan stated that they were beyond stupid for having confided in him in the first place. And that he would take measures beyond repair in case someone wanted to disobey Logan.
If Leon were to look in the mirror, he could have seen Logan. Emphasis on could have. Logan bent women to their will, and if they didn’t submit, they would end up suffering injustice. Leon never did that. He never recorded or took pictures of women except you. It was especially worth mentioning that he would never expose you. His tapes of you were Leon’s – no one else’s. In a weird (perhaps even psychotic) way, his joy and pride. They were special to him.
Leon would capitalize on his position for power; Logan did so as well – the victims were different. Leon showed no mercy to civilians who would dare disrespect him. Logan showed no mercy to women who would dare not sleep with him. Both duplicated the intentional core at hand, but the goal and/or aim were different.
Leon began to realize that the universe was turning in his favor, that Leon, since he tried making things right from the bottom of his heart, was truly given the chance to take out a person that was almost identical to him. Logan never regretted his decisions – not once. Leon on the other hand? Enough said. And that’s why God favored Leon despite his transgressions.
Michael went on to talk about Logan’s relationship with a girl named Ashley. And the similarities were beyond shocking: They had been together for as long as Leon had been with you. Logan took pictures of Ashley and recorded their sexcapades, and it all came out because Logan plastered the entire men’s and women’s locker room with pictures of him and Ashley.
Logan left his “autograph” on the doors with the number: 152.
Yours was: 125, no autograph, but with “She’s mine”. Why?
Because Logan wanted to save face. Plus, Logan couldn’t fake Leon’s signature. How could he have been able to? The lack of signature could have saved Logan’s face. Could have.
The fact that Leon had the same idea, years later, to take revenge against Logan, to showcase who he truly was, was insane. They really were very much alike.
The same protocol, but again, an entirely different mission:
Logan did it to expose and degrade Ashley. We will find out why in just a second.
Leon wanted to expose and degrade Logan. No need to clarify why. (He didn’t get the chance. Not yet.)
Years ago: same destiny between you and Ashley.
Ashley faced humiliation: it was Logan who did it. You faced humiliation: it was your father, not Leon.
But:
Ashley’s case was so bad that she dropped out of college. You didn’t, you luckily stayed in college.
You didn’t report Leon back then, your father did. And Ashley? She did it on her own, she didn’t receive help from her family (broken in shambles, her father wasn’t around and her mother died when she was seven. She was barely able to pay for groceries, her job at a coffee shop held her above water – again, barely).
On that note, that’s exactly why Leon begged for mercy in his cabin one week prior to the classroom incident, when he remembered Samson. He couldn’t hold back on his blood thirst for vengeance, knowing it could potentially bite you in the ass, considering who Logan was. But he was willing to risk it, because no matter what, Leon wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger and perish if Logan wanted to retaliate just so he could save you, and since he believed that God could alchemize his volatile temperament and turn it around.
It was as if Leon was divinely protected here, had his plan sufficed, he would have probably faced a setback so grim that would’ve done him in completely: Perhaps be charged with murder or the opposite: end up dead.
Maybe Logan even bet on it (which would make sense now as to why he called Leon “old man” when he was on the phone with you, pretending to be clueless, and knowing full well it bothered him – heaping onto the provocation). And if we were to look back on the pattern, then it would have happened very likely (because Leon already had it planned): and also, Leon did demolish your father’s car out of rage back then – facing a property damage charge.
The missing piece (last station) for Leon was to end up behind bars for whatever reason (murder, etc.) because of the tapes (feigned as revenge porn), and God wouldn’t let that happen.
So, this time? God would let Logan’s pattern come and visit him like the Grim Reaper.
Favored by fate, that’s how one could call it then, even if it didn’t look like it at first. Right. Leon was painted as the bad guy once again, marked as the potential threat – at moment’s notice. Leon needed to understand that God was playing Stratego here, he intended to infiltrate the set-up system by Logan (and your father) from within and that God was going to make up for the vilification of Leon.
Leon needed to endure it. God was saving and protecting Leon, ergo, Logan’s framework would hit him like a boomerang if Leon kept steadfast with the crown on his head. The finish line was right in front of Leon, it was only a mile away now.
“So, what happened? Did she win the case? I mean it was obvious it was Logan?”
“No, Leon,” Michael shook his head, the inside past his lips dry as a desert. “The case got dropped.”
Shock.
All eleven besides Michael and Leon looked at each other. It sunk, the realization that they were dealing with a case that was extremely dire. Two of them even got scared, Leon took notice and calmed them down gently. That they have solved crimes like this before and that all of them, as a team, would come up as the winning team, unlike Logan …… and your father.
A pin-point needle: it made him think, why did the case get dropped?
Who was behind this?
Someone with enough power to drop the case? Someone who ended up defending Logan? Perhaps someone who got rid of evidence?
Those were Leon’s first thoughts.
“We need her full name, her case folder. Maybe we can look at the defendant and prosecutor?” one of the eleven, Leon’s youngest, suggested.
Leon smiled fondly, but stated, “We are prohibited from doing that. We need the approval of the district attorney. Too risky. But good job. It was a great idea. We’re going in the right direction.”
His prodigy gave him a firm nod, slightly embarrassed, but Leon smiled at him again, proud that his men were thinking with Leon and Michael.
“Easy,” Michael snorted. “We’ll use social media. I’ll just find Ashley’s contacts.”
They all thought too hard. Michael came in handy, huh? Long live Michael.
And he was successful. Not even two days after, Leon and his twelve sat at the table and looked at Ashley. She cowered into the seat, very tense, and gulped.
“No need to be nervous, Ashley,” Leon started, looking at one of his men that poured Ashley a glass of water. “Yeah, you’ll be very useful,” Michael continued, his voice evident that he was sure of himself – like a vice confidant to Leon.
Leon started off with a simple conversation, trying to break the ice and to loosen her up. Not out of strategy, but because it was clear to him that Ashley was worried beyond belief. Nobody likes to be around police. Leon understood that. Her entire body was shaking; she bit into her bottom lip. Michael put an end to it by placing a hand on her shoulder and showing empathy. Usually, police personnel weren’t allowed to breach physicality with individuals under investigation, but this wasn’t even an official one. All of this was hidden in plain sight. No one knew about this. For good reason.
And Leon saw Ashley start smiling and her shoulders relax. His memory where he met Michael in church shot to Leon’s mind, and therefore he let it pass.
After Ashley had calmed down after thirty minutes, Michael dared to show her a picture of a very important individual. “You know that man?”
Ashley nodded. “Yeah.”
Michael’s and Leon’s eyes met. Michael broke the gaze and turned to Ashley, tapped the picture and asked shakily, “How do you know this man?”
“Uhm,” Ashley breathed out. “He….”
“He was in charge of the case, right?” Leon interrupted with unintentional pressure, his forearms on the table, his fingers crossed as his eyes glazed with concern and…rage. He needed to know, already did, he already had a feeling he was going to be proven right in just a second.
“Did he drop the case?” Leon asked further, it was obvious to him. “He was the prosecutor, right?”
A beat of silence, then:
“Yes.”
Leon shook his head in disbelief, pinched the bridge of his nose, and started regretting helping your father out in the first place years ago. And that’s exactly why they couldn’t look into Ashley’s folder, because he (was an assistance prosecutor and) was working in the office for the district attorney (elected official). And Leon should have known since he had worked with him. But he couldn’t possibly have known that he was the assigned prosector for Ashley’s case.
“Do you have any idea on why he dropped it? Could he have ties to your ex Logan?” Michael managed to question – everyone was beyond shaken.
“I have no idea, sorry,” Ashley sighed sadly, biting into her upper lip, evidently concerned that she was of no-good use now. But:
“Ashley,” Leon began, his corner lifting into a big smile. “You just saved us. That was enough. Thank you.”
After a week, Leon thought about helping Ashley financially, but he kept it off until the matter was settled. The last thing he needed was to somehow be accused of bribery.
So, when Leon’s arrest was at hand, he laid everything bare: that Logan got charged with revenge porn with this exact method years ago - cementing pictures across the walls. They should further consider looking into his case, about the potential cause as to why it got dropped and who laid it off. He couldn’t say he knew it was your father not to blow Ashley’s cover, but maybe one day they’d be bored and look into it.
And furthermore, gave evidence about Logan having an affair, which didn’t necessarily prove anything, but it could suggest that Logan was a two-faced individual.
You know what happened?
Despite Leon not having a probable clause - he wasn’t allowed to take pictures of Logan in the first place but did it anyway and could have gotten him into some serious trouble - Logan and your father immediately pleaded with the police to halt any further investigation, the initial court appearance never took place.
Good thing that Logan and your father kept their pride at bay, because their downfall would have come much sooner.
That alone was proof that your father was hiding something, and even the police became suspicious. Leon risked pointing at the fact that they could potentially bond in some sort of brotherhood with its base being: blackmail. And perhaps a deal that revolved around you, as well.
Because how the hell was your father okay with Logan having an affair?
Did your father even know?
And why was Logan okay knowing (pretending not to know that) you had an affair with Leon? What promise did Logan make to your father, or vice versa? Were they (even) on the same page? How long have they known each other?
The red color emanated from the neon, pigmented fixtures above. He knelt behind her, holding her by the hair, drilling into her. He wanted nothing but to escape his world every once and a while. Too many responsibilities, too many problems, afflictions that come with his status. It was his way of blowing off steam, after all, his job was incredibly stressful, and every man has their needs.
With one last groan he emptied himself inside her. While breathing heavily, that’s when logic overrode his lust and he felt a drop of grief and regret roll down his cheek.
He was so utterly disgusted himself. He couldn’t believe what he got himself into, but it was as if he were forced to do so. Despite having sex with his wife, she couldn’t fully his needs. It was too bland, boring. A young woman like he had in front of him, or rather, beneath him, bent over, aware of his deepest desires could keep him truly satiated. Even if it meant he had to pay for it. It was around 500 dollars each session, sometimes even 1k – for good reason…he had… let’s say: preferences. Every week, on a Friday night, when his wife paid her book club a visit, that’s when he would go out and pay the brothel of the city a visit and every time: for the same woman.
He’d been doing that for at least three years. Heavy debates in his head – that broke his inner spirit as his soul withered away every time he would give into his sexual urge. But he couldn’t help himself, it was as if he lost control, got hard even thinking about this young prostitute that was nice to him – gave him everything he wanted. Even made him feel like he mattered. Your father knew he was incredibly entitled to feel this way, because your mother did everything in her power to shower him with love and affection.
Only that your father lost his sexual desire for your mother. He did love her, but there was no sexual chemistry anymore. Your mother tried everything he wanted her to, even going as far as bondage and restraint, even humiliation. But it wasn’t enough, he needed something new. But something else entirely happened as well.
Your father’s guilt and shame had solidified as time passed by, and by then it had seeped into rage. Utter Madness. How could someone like him, a well-renowned attorney, someone with a strong moral code end up in a situation like this? He didn’t understand himself, he only knew, that he wanted it – needed it, it was an emotion so strong it messed with his head. Needed to feel this young woman’s skin on his body. And therefore, he started resenting that young woman, shifting the blame.
“Why are you fucking me like this?”
“You want more money, don’t you honey?”
Incredible, yet another man deflecting his actions onto the “weaker sex”. Misogynistic. There was nothing weaker than passing the buck. She was giving your father what he wanted because that was her job! Was your father crazy? How could she possibly be the one to be blamed for it?
Your father figured after a while: no one could know about this. It was her fault that he kept sticking his dick into her. She was the perpetrator. Your father was innocent, a poor man that got enticed by a jezebel who wanted to destroy your father’s family – same age as you are too. Shameful, disgusting. Filthy. He deserved a death sentence for it, he believed.
A slender hand creeped up and held him by his right shoulder. He could feel a presence right behind him. Your father felt like he was going insane – sweat on his forehead, goosebumps all over his statue, breath shaky. He could feel a tongue swipe over his earlobe – an inkling of inviting pursuit. The figure behind him, a void – black. Pitch black, with a voice so deep and scary it shook his entire body, “Why not get rid of her?”
What?
“Yeah, “ the eerie voice purred - seductive. “She’s disgusting, isn’t she? She’s nothing but a filthy whore.”
“S-stop,” your father trembled. “N-not true.”
“Oh, very true, friend,” the entity cooed. “C’mon. No one will know.”
The trembling hands of your father reached out, he momentarily pulled back but then:
“Do it.”
The pliant softness of the cushion next to the woman’s head was about to seal her end. Your father took the pillow and pressed it onto the back of her head with her face coerced into the mattress. At that moment she started kicking out, screamed – trying to yell for help, but to no avail. Her voice was muffled. Your father’s strength was beyond human, it felt like something had possessed him - your father as a mere vessel to carry out his/her/its wish. Whose wish? Who told him that?
His grip was so tight that the woman stopped twitching and turning after two minutes. Your father sobbed out of regret instantly, groaned and started roaring, punched into the cushion at least twenty times, simultaneously smashing into the woman’s head, the cushion as last barrier, out of a concoction of mania, sorrow and contrition. He then mourned into the pillow, his thoughts that were blank due to his fury that had obsessed his execution, now fleeted, devastation struck him and put into action: he started praying.
He fucked up. He fucked up beyond belief. He just killed a woman. He needed help. He needed help now.
Your father’s face was stained with water due to his cascade of wreckage.
“Please God,” your father sobbed. “What have I done? Why? Help, h-help me.”
He was in need of a miracle. Something or someone beyond his logical understanding needed to hear him out for just a second.
Were his prayers going to be heard? Did God even exist?
Unbeknownst to your father the door opened up. The man in question saw him, your father’s pants stuck under his bare ass, bent over and was completely ruined. The unknown person breathed in, instinct kicking in. Something happened here.
“Fuck,” the man breathed.
Your father shot up immediately, his head hastened towards the opened door with a towering individual standing there. Your father couldn’t see what he looked like, the red light clouded him in this brothel.
It looked like a void of a person. Was he with someone now? Or was he still alone?
Your father pulled out of her, got up with his jittery illustrated palms, begging for mercy and understanding. Was he going to help him? Did God really hear his prayer?
The other man looked at your father. Your father was half-naked, his length was flaccid, his jeans hung to his shoes, and his hands in a held-up position as he shuddered.
His eyes told a tale of a man who just committed one of the worst crimes possible – homicide - pure tremor clawing at his insides.
“I-It’s not…,” you father gulped. “It’s not what it looks like!”
“Sure,” the other man said – nonchalantly – too indifferent about it. He looked your father up and down and your father couldn’t quite tell what he was doing, so your father pleaded with his eyes.
Something told the mysterious man to come here today.
Your father couldn’t stop breathing heavily, it was as if his throat was sinched, his lungs got sown together with a needle and a string– tight and secure.
“She’s dead, isn’t she?”
Your father nodded frantically. “Y-yeah. S-she-“
“You need help?”
Your father’s Adam’s apple moved up and down. He was still tense, but…. was he about to be saved?
Seriously? Just like that?
Your father was beyond confused. How could it be? He prayed for a miracle, sure. But he just took someone’s life. Needless to say, that your father had mixed feelings about it. But what was he supposed to do here? He was helpless and hopeless at once.
“Yeah,” your father breathed out. “P-please. I need help.”
The man handled it quickly. He told your father to stay where he was and that he was going to come back, advised him to lock the door until further notice. Your father did as told. As he got dressed and was alone, he couldn’t even look at the dead woman on the bed. But everything went seemingly fine. He would ask for forgiveness later. Surely this could be turned around, no? Maybe he did her a favor. After all, she was a prostitute, and young. Who knows why she worked in this brothel. Getting pimped out? Maybe poor? No family? A blessing in disguise?
It was bad to think this way, but your father tried rationalizing it.
The man came back, knocked on the door and then: a suitcase. Both of them hid the woman. Everything went fast – too smooth. He knew where the exit was, he knew which path to take in order to not be seen. Both of them got into his car, the suitcase was in the trunk. And they drove – far away, very far away.
The drive – one hour proximately. They arrived somewhere in the woods. Your father didn’t think anymore, he needed to conceal this lunacy, so he – again - did as he was told. The adrenaline and horror washing through him kept him in its grip, despite his heart tugging at him that this was a wrong idea. The man took the suitcase and nudged his chin towards the woods. Your father knew where he was going with this.
They walked about thirty minutes, branches and leaves disrupting the horrifying silence, which perfectly demonstrated what your father went through internally: silent waters that ran deep – the turmoil that simmered at the deep end of his heart and mind that was on its way on collision: a convergent boundary.
Your father tried his best not to cry, not to utter a word, if he had the chance, he would have ended his life right there, along with this woman. Then they stopped walking. The man turned around and tilted his head towards the lake.
“Don’t worry,” the man stated. “It’s clear. No one comes here. Ever. It’s said that this lake is haunted. Weird shit happens here.”
Weird shit as in hiding a dead prostitute, I suppose? That’s what your father asked himself.
“How do you know that?”
“Quit asking stupid questions, unless you got a better plan,” the man stated – coldly.
“I don’t.”
“Alright. I showed you the place,” the man extended his arm as an offer. “And now it’s your turn. You will take the suitcase and throw it.”
Your father dragged the hard-shell aluminum imprisonment that served its purpose as a grave for the woman. He swung it and it tanked. Your father watched it sink immediately.
“Told you.”
Your father nodded. “Let’s leave. Please.”
They walked back to the car. No one said a thing. The inner war switched into an inner dialogue. Debates upon debates. Your father went crazy in his head. It didn’t stop. Weirdly enough, he was grateful, though. Maybe this could turn out well for him. The only thing he would have to live with was this: keeping the skeleton in his closet and taking it to his grave.
When they both sat in the car again, then: finger’s snapped – the scenery switched.
Your father sat on stage all of a sudden. It was dark. There was no audience. But he was in a theater. Next to him was the man that helped him. Your father’s eyes switched from the empty seats in the audience and instead: creeped his head towards the one sitting next to him. He was there. But he looked different.
Very different. Inhuman, dimensionless.
The man’s eyes were pitch-black – a complete void of oneself. A place of absence. They mirrored rock-bottom. A place in which your father had to self-reflect.
Your father and the man next to him were brought into view: two stage lights in the playhouse.
“What’s your name?” your father asked - cowardly.
Silence.
But then:
“Chief…. Big Daddy….Rainmaker,” the man answered with a smirk. “They call me a lot of things…. Depends on who’s with me.”
Your father didn’t know what was going on anymore. What was real and what was fake? Was he alone? Did he dream all of this? Was this a nightmare?
Why am I inside a theater? Please…. let me wake up. Hello?
“Chief?” you father dared to ask. He needed an explanation.
“I’m the team captain. I play American football.”
Alright.
“What about…. Big…. Daddy?”
“Well,” the man mused, but then broke out in laughter - cold, heartless. “Women consider themselves…let’s say: lucky, when they see me blow the belt. You know what I mean? I’m six-foot-four, after all.”
He winked.
Your father was disgusted – it was pure nausea. His words smelled like puke. The stench almost made your father gag. However, was his reaction adequate, given what he did behind your mother’s back? An affair of two years, and instead of coming clean - pleading guilty - he instead…got rid of the woman he was having sex with. And then: took help from a person he wasn’t sure…. whether he could trust him anymore. Was he really there to help him? Or did he have hidden intentions?
“So, what about Rainmaker?”
It stood out. Your father was familiar with this one.
“Yeah,” the man sighed satisfied. “We just went to a lake, didn’t we? Water. Duh.” Then he continued, “Do you know what a rainmaker is?”
“Yes,” your father said - trembling. He was beyond scared. It was horrifying. Spine-chilling. ”We use it often in our language.”
“There we go. Yeah, you’re a lawyer, aren’t you?”
Your father nodded, “Prosecutor.” And then he introduced himself, despite his fear that consumed him. And that was a mistake. A big one.
“Well, I don’t want to be rude,” the man laughed – darkly. “I’ll introduce myself, too then. My name’s Logan.”
“Logan,” your father echoed. “Nice to meet you, Logan. But why are we inside a theater?”
“Inside a theater? What are you smoking, old man? We are in my car.”
His head twitched and his eyes scrunched as if he got tasered. Then: the clock ticked forward – loud, it echoed in his ears. And they were back in the vehicle.
What the hell?
Logan’s eyes weren’t black anymore. They were green.
“So,” Logan sighed. “Let’s address the elephant in the room.”
As if on instinct, your father knew right away: One hand washes the other.
“I helped you. And now I need your help.”
Your father was proven right.
“What do you need help with?”
Logan cleared his throat and clenched his jaw. “My ex left me, so I…well,” then huffed and chuckled, “Let’s just say everyone knows now that this bitch had my cock inside her.”
Sounds like a very serious crime, your father thought. He swallowed – hard. And he didn’t like the way he talked. Jesus Christ. Explicit? Yeah…yeah that was the right word.
“May I ask what you did?”
“You’re the one that passed the bar, brochacho. You know what shit I am dealing with now. No need to tell you any details. I’m fucked. And I need your help, because my defense lawyer is on my ass and already said it’s hopeless. It’s clear that I did it.”
“You’ll get about two years max.” If your father had known more, then he would have continued and he would have clarified that depending on severity, intent, repetition, that it was going to be a longer sentence for Logan.
And yet, one of the worst possible crimes to commit with not enough jail time. Too many women who got their lives destroyed because of it, he thought. He knew a thing or two about it, didn’t he. After all, he had lots of experience when it came to it. An expert on: coercion, rape, sex trafficking. You name it.
“I don’t fucking care. I am not going to jail, old man.”
Logan then saw the ring on his hand, “Married?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck,” Logan laughed. “You’re worse than me. Fucked a whore for money, killed the bitch while married? Shit, I should pay you some respect, old man. Could learn a thing or two from you.”
Your father didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Because Logan was right, despite embodying hell himself.
“So, I assume you got family?”
And that’s when your father’s phone rang. Worst possible scenario for him. God, no. He didn’t trust Logan one bit now. He should have known better. Your father didn’t want to take his phone out, but Logan’s eyes bore into his.
He knew better than to make hasty or false decisions here, right? He gulped and then looked at the screen once it was in his hand. The tilt was enough for Logan to see the Caller ID.
“Your daughter?”
A firm nod. “Yes.”
“She pretty?”
Your father stared back at him. This was a deal. An exchange. A cold-blooded transfer. With threats and intimidation. And it had more conditions now, didn’t it.
“I assume she’s pretty, then. Listen, you’re just as fucked as me. If not worse, if it comes out, well. You will not only lose your fucking job but your family. But things can change, right? I can keep it a secret. And no one will know.”
Yeah. He knew exactly where this was headed.
“What do you want?”
“Already fuckin’ told you. You got dementia? Simple. You need to drop my case,” Logan laughed and then: his face went blank. Hardly discernable. “And now show me a picture of her. Would be really shitty if someone found out that you’re a prostitute killer, no?” On ‘no’ he cocked an eyebrow.
“You are just as guilty.”
“I am. But you have a lot more to lose, don’t you?” Logan looked at him with a smirk and tapped the wheel of his cockpit. “Sure, a footballer fucks fat prostitutes. Wow. Shocker. It’s because they allow everything. One time I even pissed on a skank, they have no self-respect. The old ones, too. Shit.”
His chest heaved up sporadically and his laughter reverberated in your father’s ears. Goodness fucking gracious. His hollow cackle infiltrated your father’s heart and snatched it – it was wicked: your father was imprisoned by terror.
And then Logan pulled your father by the collar. Logan exerted way more pressure now - like a badger. His grip was steel-like. His eyes stained black again.
Then he went on, spitting, “And I got my lick back for my ex. Whatever. You, however,” breathed out a chuckle, “you are a fuckin’ prosecutor, brother,” he emphasized the last word, heavily loaded with humor. “You would lose everything dear to you. That don’t mean nothin’ to you? Or should I just rat you out now? I mean, I already got a case, you know? I have no problem with taking you down with me.”
He should have never agreed. Taking Logan’s help was like making a deal with the devil himself. That’s what it felt like. Your father started crying. He hiccupped. His body shivered.
“Or,” Logan sang eerily, “you help me. You get my case dropped, I get to date your hot daughter, and we both stain white. Hallelujah. Mazel tov. Nothing happens. How’s that sound?”
Your father couldn’t answer because he was barred in his tears like a waterfall.
“Stop fucking crying. Now, tell me……. Do we have a deal?”
Your father’s prayers did get answered, he figured. But by an entity that’s beyond human comprehension. A creature from the pits of abomination. His innocence he wanted to feign came with a big cost.
“Yes,” your father sobbed. And instantly, Logan’s grip faltered.
“Good,” Logan smirked. “And I promise. I’ll be a gentleman. I’ll treat your daughter like the princess she is. You got my word.”
And at that moment your father knew his destiny was sealed. He didn’t know why, but one was certain: one day, it would come back to him, despite Logan telling him otherwise.
He didn’t know when, didn’t know where. But he was convinced now it would happen one day. And if it did…. he would admit it and take the blame. No matter what would happen to him. Only time could tell when it would suffice.
But he also promised this: that he would love you till his very last breath, the best way he could, unable to love you fully like a father needed to: to protect you from a man like Logan.
He was a pathetic excuse of a man – a failure of a father. Nevertheless, loved you from the bottom of his heart. You were his blood. His only beloved daughter he held in high regards.
That was…. the truth.
A comparison: your father and Leon both got help in devastating situations, didn’t they? Leon got Michael, and your father…well, he, unfortunately, got Logan.
It was clear as day who sent whom. And who was working for good and evil.
One wanted a true change of heart, revealed his transgressions, took the blame, and dealt with the consequences – stripped bare.
The other wanted mercy to get rid of consequences, shifted the blame and hid his transgressions instead – swathed himself in a white clean blanket.
One was going to be exalted, and the other one would fall.
It was clear as day who was who.
So, after a month of his arrest, everything was settled – a clean slate. Michael then urged Leon to act to get you back, but Leon declined, stating that it wasn’t time yet. Despite Logan and your father giving in, Leon didn’t financially help Ashley either. Not yet.
Leon was confident that there was a specific time to deal with it and fix it – all of this.
He wouldn’t risk being impatient. He didn’t know what both of them had up their sleeves. It got him into the predicament years ago, where he lost everything. This time, he would wait for a sign, and if God gave it to him, he would make quick work of it.
Speaking of which, Michael texted Leon:
Captain, code twelve: We’re outside.
This was the moment Leon waited for while sitting on his couch.
You were about to marry Logan, already standing in the chapel across from your soon-to-be husband.
Leon, and his eleven were about to swat the church. And all he knew was this: he didn’t even need to lift a single finger.
He thought about taking his .44 with him (just in case), but something told him not to. He was going to be safe. It was hard to resist, but he needed to trust God here. That’s why he set the metal barrel back onto his couch where he saw his own reflection.
All he needed to do was this - it was as if it was directly communicated to him: to get you and your mother out, and God would handle the rest.
He hid your polaroid in his pocket and he left his penthouse, ready to execute his plan with his men: a true brotherhood, based off loyalty, respect, and mutual love.
Only thirteen, but as strong as an entire legion – an army, Alexander the Great like, ready conquer an island like Tyre, because of this simple fact: they were favored beyond belief. His siege was assured, shiny and bright in front of him.
Leon was ready, Michael was, Leon’s eleven were and God was too.
The white, lacy fabric of your veil in front of your eyes couldn’t obscure the magnifying scenery – your arm was hooked around your father, both of you walked towards the altar.
Everyone had their eyes on you. All one hundred-and-twenty-five.
Your family, your husband’s family, friends you shared, but most were Logan’s acquaintances he made over the years.
Your father cried. You were beyond gorgeous – stunning, the pure definition of beauty. And the best thing about it was this: you were his own flesh and bones. He made you.
God, he was he so proud to call you his daughter.
“Stop crying, dad,” you whispered – snickering. “You’re gonna’ make me cry.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” your father exhaled shakily and sealed his lips together to keep himself from sobbing. He looked at you with a gentle smile. And then blinked his tears away.
And you?
You had to keep your tears in, as well. It was incredibly hard, because everything was so special.
After what had happened in the classroom, times got rocky again. You believed you were going to face the same ordeal years ago. You and your father agreed on not telling Logan that you had an affair with Leon. (Unbeknownst to you, your father and Logan knew. But they pretended for your sake. For the sake of the deal.)
Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. Shocking.
So, you? You naively deemed it as protection.
The church was beautiful – everything seemingly perfect.
Everyone beamed, some shed tears, overcome by emotion. You felt like a princess out of a Disney movie – this was your big moment. Pompeus.
The women stared at you in awe.
The dress you wore was nothing short of breathtaking – a masterpiece of elegance. Delicate lace traced along your arms and neckline, revealing just enough to hint at your cleavage. It clung to your curves like it was woven for you alone – sculpting you. You didn’t look like a bride. You looked like a vision, plucked from a page out of a wedding catalogue and brought to life.
Logan was in tears because of it.
Some swayed, bewitched by the melody coming from the violin triumvirate next to your bridesmaids.
Rose pedals were scattered along the red carpet while stretched toward the altar, leading to the place where your heart and Logan’s would be joined in matrimony.
And then you arrived.
Your father gave you a kiss on the cheek and held you by your arms. One final look, from head to toe, passed over you in awe. And then he released you.
You stood across from Logan now. The pastor in between the both of you.
And then he announced:
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of God and these witnesses to celebrate the union of two beloved individuals in holy matrimony. Marriage is not…-”
He trailed off, but you focused on Logan.
Logan looked at you fondly. The fact that you betrayed him was a big mistake on your end. How could you? Logan loved you – cared for you. He so was utterly careful with you - handled you like you were made out of glass. He never dared to make you feel uncomfortable and remained loyal by your side.
You felt it would be wrong to marry him. Logan was an angel. You on the other hand, you were a liar and a cheater. Had risked your entire life yet again for a man who had clearly not changed. You swapped out a prince for a goon. And the worst thing about this was: that despite what Leon had done to you, the inner sides of your heart bled out, leaving you dry, because what you felt for Leon seemed impossible to undo.
You didn’t deserve Logan, did you?
But your father was on your side.
You smiled at Logan, he smiled back. You were willing to be the best wife possible, regardless of what had transpired.
Your mother couldn’t stop crying and hugged your father. Your father kissed your mother on her forehead and cradled her.
“That’s our beautiful daughter, can you believe it, honey?” your mother sniffled.
“No,” your father sniffled as well. “I can’t. God. I don’t even deserve her.”
The pastor continued, explaining of what a marriage would entail, and what it symbolically meant to God. Everything was picture-perfect – heaven-like.
The pastor made jokes here and there, bringing everyone into a union of warm laughter. You couldn’t believe that you were about to get a happy ending despite your betrayal. And that your father protected you, hiding the affair.
“So, if anyone present knows of any reason why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”
Logan and you looked around. Silence. No one stood up. People looked at each other and shook their heads.
“No one. Of course not. We are perfect together, aren’t we, family?” Logan joked, stringing everyone along to laugh with him. “We are meant to be!”
All of a sudden:
“Now!”
With a thunderous might bang, the door slammed open: eleven men completely dressed in black, concealed with baklavas, ran into the building.
And two men followed right after. One was known to Logan, your father and you – especially you.
Leon.
The other one was unknown to your father. But not to you – especially not to Logan.
Leon’s secret weapon. The guy from the grocery store.
What?
“I object!” Leon yelled, running after, protected by his prodigies.
No, no, no. Please let this be a joke! What!
You were beyond petrified.
You immediately looked to your father, in horror, knowing Leon was going to reveal everything – emphasis on everything, you however, were completely oblivious of what was about to happen. But not your father…. no.
Inside your father…. there it was. In his heart. His sign. He knew it was his end.
You froze aghast and swallowed.
The inside past your lips were beyond dry. As if deserted – dust and tumbleweeds flying around. The only thing that could be heard was the tweeting of the wind.
However, it wasn’t the wind that disrupted the silence. It was all of the guests – tense, alarmed, dumbstruck.
What the hell was happening?
“Don’t marry him,” Leon exclaimed, at the altar, his henchmen now behind him but Michael was next to him. “He’s a liar!”
Logan gulped.
“What?” you spat. “Shut up! You know nothing!”
“Sweetheart –“
“Don’t call me that, you prick!”
Your grief spilled over. This had to be a sick joke. Where were the hidden cameras? Did someone hate you this much to make your life this hard?
You figured, Leon was yet here again to destroy your life, indifferent about the consequences that would follow.
You were about to get ruined.
You were all too familiar with it. However, you were beyond done with him. You told that yourself – never again. You closed that chapter, and yet, he really had the audacity to come to your wedding after the degradation he wanted to put you through but luckily didn’t work out well for him this time.
You looked at your father for support. But, he looked at the floor, avoiding your gaze.
Why?
Why isn’t he protecting me from Leon? You asked yourself. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Dad?
“I have two women that want to talk to you Logan,” Michael smirked. And then: he whistled – loudly.
The first one: Ashley.
Logan’s eyes shot wide and his mouth fell agape. You turned your head towards your fiancé and furrowed your eyebrows.
“You know her?” you asked, shakily, crying. You were beyond confused.
What the hell was happening! Can I please get an answer? Hello?
And then the other: the female principal of the school.
And now…. Logan and you shared the same facial expression.
What? What the hell was she doing here?
Ashley walked timidly towards all of you, but the principal? She shot through the church and screamed with a shrilling tone, “What the fuck? You fucking cheater!”
Cheater……? Did you…. Did you just hear that right?
The entire crowd formed a union once again: hysteria and chaos loomed over them and stared at Logan in disbelief.
Some covered their mouths with their hands. One baby started crying – shrieking. It was loud – it drilled into everyone’s ears. The music prior? The band stood unmoving – as if turned into stone after looking into Medusa’s eyes. One went unconscious because of his blood pressure that shot through the rough due to the mortifying panic.
Your mother was startled and sought for leverage from your father. But he cried – couldn’t move a bit. He kept his eyes fixed on the floor.
This was it. And he was going to keep the promise he made to you.
This time, he would protect you. Which he should have done from the very beginning.
The female principle…. she scampered – heavy boots. Then: stood in front of Logan and slapped him across his cheek – icy and relentless.
The two of them started having an argument, it was explosive. Ear-splitting.
Ashley didn’t get to speak to him. Because she wasn’t there for him. She was here because of your father. Leon made sure she would get her justice too. Get herself an explanation.
You stood there, then to your left: five of Leon’s men, Michael and Leon himself. Next to Leon was Ashley and your mother. And to your right was your father - alone. The one to reveal all of it.
Then: all of you stood in a circle. It was as if everyone was moved into place according to plan. Because Logan was distracted. And God was going to utilize your father now. Then:
“I am so sorry, honey,” your father sobbed. His hand covered his face, smeared the tears away by dragging his skin down. “I am so fucking sorry for everything.”
“What?” you gasped. “What do you mean by that, dad?”
“I couldn’t protect her,” your father trembled. “I wanted to. But I fucking couldn’t, sweetheart. My hands were tied.”
“Who?” you blurted out, crying.
Your father looked at Ashley. “Her.”
Ashley looked at your father. She cried as well. This was so beyond devastating.
Leon, this entire time, looked at you. Leon’s eyes were saturated in pure pain and agony. The destinies that were sealed due to Logan with this much effect was beyond excruciating. And that you would find out just now, made Leon a sad man. A very, very, very sad man. He hated seeing you cry. He hated it when you were sad. He loved you this much that he could feel it: how your heart was splitting in two.
But you didn’t look at Leon, you stared at your father – your shield and armor. The one who taught you everything. How to stand, how to walk, how to ride a bike, helped you with homework, advised you, we need to go on?
Who tried his best to put you first.
“I will love you, always and forever”: That’s what he would whisper to you when giving you a goodnight kiss.
Despite his horrifying secret, he was going to make things right now for you. Like a father should. Like a true man should. He knew it was time.
Michael looked at Ashley – nodded. And then:
“I am Logan’s ex,” Ashley offered shyly. “He’s not who he pretends to be.”
Then your head turned – as if yanked by someone above – towards the woman that spoke up. Ashley continued, “Leon is innocent. It was Logan, and your father is protecting him.”
“What?”
In utter disbelief, but then your father nodded and wept, “She’s right.”
Everyone in that circle turned towards your father, studying him. Your father’s body shivered and looked at you with puffy, wet eyes now, “I had a deal with Logan, sweetheart. And…. I promised him that he would get to date you, if he kept my secret.”
Michael and Leon knew. They were right.
“What? “ you whispered and shook your head – in disbelief. What was your father hiding? Was it bad? “What secret are you talking about, dad?”
Not only were you utterly lost, but the world around you seemed to dissolve - the background fading into nothingness until only the circle remained.
The stage light was on your father now. Again. This time around, he wanted to tell the truth.
“I had an affair,” you father sobbed. “And Logan helped me keep it a secret.”
The interstellar winded down. It was torture. Everything moved in slow-motion. And then he revealed everything. What he had truly done. it was him who had saved Logan’s reputation: he had not just an affair; he also ended up killing the woman with whom he had a secret tie. And that Logan had helped him dispose of the body.
And as if God wanted to protect you – as you now knew ugly truth: that your father was a murderer and Logan was as well – time ticked by extremely fast. Neck-breaking. To not let it sit for even a second. Not now. But later.
On schedule: Logan stopped arguing with his side piece, disrupted the circle and almost knocked over Michael. Logan looked at your father – seething. He knew.
“You fucking bastard! You revealed it didn’t you?” Logan screamed- his fists balled together. The next thing you knew, was that Logan, just like in the car, grabbed your father by the collar, and continued, growling, “You fucking bitch! We’re gonna end up in prison because of you, motherfucker!”
And then: “When need to go,” Leon stated, staring at you. “Now.”
This was Leon’s cue. Just like God told him. He didn’t need to lift a finger.
Your father would keep his promise, sacrifice himself and it would reveal who Logan was – you got firsthand experience of his true self. He screamed, he cussed, he was violent. It was otherworldly. This was not the Logan you knew. All of it was a lie?
Michael nodded, “Now.”
You were planted into the ground like a tree, crying, looking at your father who got yanked by Logan. And then: a knuckle-punch. Almost fatal, your father landed on the floor next. His head hit the concrete.
Your eyes met your mother’s. She wanted to protect your father from the mephitic beast that was your fiancé, but then: Michael held her back before she could move and gripped by the wrist, “No.”
Leon closed the distance to you instantly and held you by the cheeks, shifted your focus to him to save you from what was about to happen. “We need to go. Now. Please.”
“B-but,” you sobbed. “My father.”
All Leon did was shake his head as a no. He knew how disturbed you were. That despite your father being a horrible person…. He was still your dad.
And you knew you needed to heed Leon’s word. From one scene to the next:
Leon held you by the hand, Michael held Ashley by the hand, one of Leon’s prodigies held your mother by the hand, and all of you needed to flee.
This was Leon’s Hercules moment.
Finally.
The pillars were on the verge of collapse and if not now, they would perish with your father. But God didn’t want that. He wasn’t going to let any of you get affected by this. So, all of you left - immediately.
You guys ran. Fast.
When outside: it was pouring buckets of rain now. There were three black trucks. You shared one with Leon. Ashley shared one with Michael. And your mother was protected by Leon’s mastermind who planned time and execution.
All of it came true.
Following promises were kept: Leon’s love would guard you. Michael’s promise came true: you both would end up together (despite being wrong about who would come back) and your father kept his word.
You sobbed. You broke down and you couldn’t stop as every vehicle drove off screeching with the church resembling mayhem. All of you didn’t look back like Lot. God was going to destroy Logan and your father and none of you were allowed to witness it. Out of protection.
Leon sat in the back with you. Held you in his arms. Tight. His heart broke for you. He cried, too. And he never does.
Only three times in his entire life: When he lost you officially for the first time due to your father. When he met Michael in church. And now with the reign ending.
Third times a charm, no?
“I love you,” Leon cried, caressing your cheeks and looking into the windows of your soul – deep in despair. “I am so sorry, sweetheart. So sorry you have to go through this again. But everything will be okay. We will be okay now. I promise.”
It’s been five months since then.
Could you even put into words what had happened? It was a cluster…. of so many emotions. The first days went by, but you didn’t really live. You survived. You functioned, yes. But it felt like you were a shell of the person you once were. You were beyond traumatized – shaken to the core. You couldn’t eat, you couldn’t sleep either. Trying to converse with others was extremely hard to do. You needed a lot of time alone. All of it felt so surreal.
After a couple of weeks, you befriended the idea that all of it needed to somehow happen. It was as if it got proposed to you: highlighted to you and you didn’t know why but you finally felt free. It felt as though poison had been drained from your veins. You just didn’t know why that was.
But Leon did.
It made news. Headlines.
That’s why all of you hid in Leon’s vacation house. When Leon got painted as a pervert years ago only the city knew. This time around, everyone in your country knew about Logan and your father. Across the entire United States, articles upon articles revealed what had happened. This case ran on program. Many experts, ranging from police to lawyers, came together to debate how horrific it was. The proceedings were televised to reveal what would happen next.
Unbeknownst to all of you, this is what happened in church:
One of Logan’s colleagues who got invited to the wedding was a journalist. So that was a first. One of the other guests had called the police immediately. Your father got a beating so brutal he was almost shoved into another dimension. He coughed out vomit and blood. But he…. survived.
Everyone was crying. Some guests were screaming. Some had collapsed onto the floor. There was havoc everywhere the eye could see. Some people were seen rocking back and forth. No wonder, when everyone knew that there were two people present who had blood on their hands and were a witness of assault.
Police came about ten minutes after. Logan and your father got arrested. The people who had kept their sanity told what happened. One guest that sat front row explained to the police that your father confessed to murder and that Logan helped him.
The case was so mind-blowing that people watching the news believed it was the return of a serial killer from another golden era, like back in the 80’s. Because Logan had not done this once. No, he had done this multiple times. Common victims: prostitutes? And no one had a clue?
Logan didn’t reveal where he had hidden them.
But as mentioned, the one who ear-dropped stated that there was a lake.
Definition of Rainmaker (simplified): someone who is extremely successful in what they do.
Yeah.
About twenty-one suitcases were found there.
And it was official - all of them women, and all of them prostitutes. So many visitors of brothels gave their testimonies to prostitutes fading away from the face of the Earth.
Logan drove around. It would be way too obvious of him to murder many of the same brothel. So, he switched places. But he hid all of them at the same spot. That’s why he probably told your father that it was haunted, because it did feel like it. When police got there, it smelled like sulfur. A stench so bad it could make anyone go unconscious on the spot.
But none of you knew, luckily. Leon told everyone not to turn on the TV – out of protection and guidance from God. All of you needed rest - deep rest. Especially you, and Ashley. So, no one dared to even look in the same direction of the device. Most days were spent together instead.
One evening, when everyone was outside in the garden and Ashley wanted to come back from the bathroom, Leon stood there. Ashley was surprised and laughed, “Jeez, you scared me, Leon.”
“Take this.”
An envelope. Ashley looked at it. Her eyebrows furrowed. Now it was finally time to fix it. Inside the mailer: 100.000 dollars in cash. Leon assured her there was more to come, and that he was going to help her find a good, stable job in case she didn’t like working at the coffee shop anymore. Ashley broke down in tears – beyond thankful. She babbled something incoherently, but Leon smiled and looked at her like she was his own daughter. He knew in his heart what she was trying to say.
“Don’t mention it,” Leon breathed out, and hugged her, letting her cry. “This isn’t even enough for what you had to go through.”
He comforted her. And both agreed to not speak a word on it. Charity, in secret, stored in Heaven.
After six months, the mayor of the city tried reaching out to Leon. Even the president heard of the case, tweeting about his heroic act of service. Giving a special shoutout to Michael and to Leon’s eleven that they shouldn’t go unnoticed. But the mayor was the one who called Leon. And then spoke at the podium, suggesting that Kennedy should campaign for mayor for the next election.
God kept his word. Leon was going to be vindicated and exalted after having gone through severe vilification once again. He got his honor back – it came with a golden package this time around, though.
He had thought about it for a while. But all of you cheered him on, in hands jumped around Leon and cheered, “Future mayor! Future mayor! Future mayor!”
“Alright for fucks sake I will run,” Leon huffed, rolling his eyes, feigning annoyance. Inside: he was giddy and excited.
And all of you cheered, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
When Leon made his official choice, one evening, sitting next to Michael by the pool, he stated, “I will make you the Captain.”
Michael was worthy of being his successor. A better option than Leon anyway. Michael’s heart was pure. He was there for Leon whenever times got rough, which was crazy to think about considering how it all started. And yet, Michael stood by Leon, showed his loyalty to him, despite having met him when he was a different kind of person.
Michael exhaled, “Captain-“
“It’s brother, now.”
Michael snorted. “Alright…brother. But…. I – I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” he stated boldly, like a father to his son.
Michael was still very young. It was unusual for someone under the age of thirty to be Captain. Men in that rank usually were in their forties and needed to qualify for it by law.
But Leon was going to break the law for good reasons and make him Captain regardless, because he felt in his heart that he was the right choice. And in order to make his wish come true, he called his Commander. And you know what he did? He agreed with Leon.
All of it came to pass in his vacation house. A heavenly sanctuary for all of you.
Next to his vacation was a guest house. Leon offered Michael and Ashley the chance to move in, and they agreed. Because Leon and you both exchanged looks sometimes. Were Michael and Ashley flirting? So, you know, Leon took it upon him and slipped into his cupid costume, took his bow and shot both of them in the bottom, for fate’s sake, you know?
Leon’s eleven left after seven months and made sure that the district would flourish. And Leon knew they were telling the truth. So now: it was only you, Leon and your mother in his vacation house.
The vacation house was beautiful. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the facade on every level: there were two. It was an entire study in modern minimalism; the exterior struck against the landscape. Inside, the interplay of black and rich mahogany created a sleek, elegant atmosphere. It was very inviting, spacey, bold but refined.
On one side, the terrace: there was a huge pool, the paving stones were in beige. The view: nothing but a field of flowers and somewhere far away: woods. Nothing but trees. You were able to access the terrace if you went through the open kitchen and living room, slid the glass door aside and then you could go outside.
He had a grill there.
And weights, too.
Well, let’s just say you enjoyed watching him working out - grunting heavy, sweating half naked. God. You were one incredibly lucky woman, weren’t you?
And of course, sometimes, you would work out there too, you know? For revenge. Would do your cute little Pilates sessions, or yoga. And oh man, he enjoyed watching you too - very much so. Leon was your man. And he had always loved how flexible you were. Watching you stretch was the best kind of entertainment there was for him.
Needless to say, since it was only you two now, you did what lovebirds do. Have sex of course. And that’s what you both did. A lot.
He couldn’t touch you for months, he was aware of how distressed you were. He couldn’t do it either. All of it was a lot to process. But one night, you and Leon missed each other’s intimate moments. You both were finally ready, not to have sex. No, but to make love. It was more than passion; this was worship. Both of you unified, you both became one flesh. He showed you how much he loved you. That you were his only woman that he had ever loved and would continue to love till the end of time. He also proved to you the man he became through his redemption. You two would share laughter and giggles. Sometimes he would even tickle you. You two were on cloud nine – up in Heaven.
He risked his entire life for you, and you showed him how thankful you were as well. How much you loved Leon, tried making amends in bed for the pain he had to go through because of you. One time you sobbed in bed out of guilt, and he didn’t continue. He immediately stopped and sobbed with you, assuring you that he would do it all over again for you, because he loved you dearly. You held him in admiration and reverence that night and it would forever mark a bond that was irreversible.
And uhm. What about your mother?
Well, let’s just say. Your man did his cupid thing again, and you know?
Coupled her up with his Commander. Not kidding. Yeah, you heard that right.
Despite your mother being utterly heartbroken for months. When she saw him: it felt right. The Commander went through a devastating divorce himself – he got cheated on. And when the Commander paid Leon a visit, he saw your mother: it was like love at first sight. Their eyes met and they both smiled.
You cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. Leon cocked an eyebrow in disbelief.
Then both of you looked at each other – playful, pursed your lips together heavily amused and laughed, “Hell yeah.” And then: a high-five. You two really morphed into teenagers. Feeling alive.
So, it goes without saying that all of you had a lot to celebrate, no? God really made sure of everything. He handled everything. And look at you guys now:
Your man wanted to run for mayor, Michael was on the road to become Captain and had Ashley by his side now. Even your mother found new love.
So, your mother – of course - the sweet angel she is, insisted on throwing a little party for all of you together. Michael and Ashley insisted on going grocery shopping with her, leaving you and Leon alone. The commander would arrive about eight after work. He promised it to your mother. Who was his woman now.
And you? What did you do in the meantime?
Well, it was summer. So, if someone wanted to find you, they’d find you here:
You were on the terrace.
The keyboard rattled with every stroke of your fingers - the pliant feathery bedding of the couch by the pool was an efficacious compensation for the work that you’d been putting into. Dedicated.
For what you ask? For (private, online) college. Yeah, you gave it another try. (Yes, your Leon paid for it).
And this time you majored in political science. Leon ensured to give you a position in his office, stating that the both of you would make the city “sexy again”.
You rolled your eyes, laughing. Oh Leon. But he insisted, musing that the city would have the hottest office siren of all time. And he was going to be the sexiest mayor of all time – well, true! He was your Daddy after all.
For city’s sake! For justice! And for the people!
(And yes. Of course, for this reason too: to see you in skimpy office skirts, watching you when you’d bend over for the handsome mayor. Maybe pick up a pen off the floor you dropped coincidentally – oopsie! I didn’t want to do that! Right. (And also, maybe, to try out the desk in the office for certain things with your Daddy.))
So, studious, that’s who you were - ensuring that every assignment was completed on time, often well before the deadline suggested by your professors. You had truly found your passion, even figured, being a good role model would bring profound sense of purpose to your life. Surely, a difficult task, however, you weren’t someone that would back down whenever things came along with a bit of resistance. Right? You knew a thing or two about it.
And while you were in college, attending your (online) lectures, you got further clarification that you did indeed choose the right major. So, as passionate as you were about your subjects at hand, it’s no surprise that you excelled and faced no issues with academic research - even if it was extremely frustrating sometimes to find the right source – and with writing away papers that were on the wish list conducted by your educators.
However, you did notice that you were a bit exhausted – after all you had already spent two hours of putting in work and the sun was burning. You took in a deep breath and then wanted to reach for your glass of water on the little stand that you didn’t bother looking at, only for it not to be where expected, which made you turn your head and spot Leon who was actually about to hand it to you instead.
You didn’t hear him because you were blasting El Apagon by Bad Bunny through the sound system on Leon’s terrace. That’s the only way you could complete your work! If it was Bad Bunny, it was going to be a good day. But you turned down the music through the app on your phone.
A soft smile tugged at your lips as you looked at him fondly. You hadn’t noticed him standing there either, being too immersed, you felt a short tug of guilt in your heart. He stood there for a while, unbeknownst to you. In his swimming briefs.
“Hey baby,” Leon greeted you softly, his welcoming words being betrayed by his amusement that he could barely contain of how clueless you were. So, he cocked his head to the side with a smirk. “In need of some water, hm?”
“I’m sorry,” you breathed out and chuckled, “I was just so focused on my paper, didn’t notice you at all.”
“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand.” He settled down next to you, still with the confinement in his hand, but reached it over to you so you could finally take a sip. You felt finally content, hydrated. And as you tried placing the glass back onto the table, Leon took it for you as a favor – once again. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
The rapid tapping of keys broke the silence once again (music timidly playing in the background too) and you shifted your focus back onto your laptop. Eyebrows furrowed with your tongue perking out at the corner: Leon couldn’t help but chuckle to himself of how adorable you looked whenever you were preoccupied. (Plus, he thought you looked incredibly hot with your glasses on – oval shaped, skinny frame. Like the sexy office siren soon-to-be).
You hid your neckline, sliding your palm along the irritated muscle.
“You tense, baby?”
“A bit, yeah.” You cleared your throat, your index finger sliding along the trackpad as you scrolled through a document, contemplating whether it was useful for your study. The weight on the mattress shifted, that’s the only thing you were able to sense, until Leon was on top of you, arms extended with his hands resting next to each side of your hips.
“Cute bikini,” Leon offered, a compliment sparked with hidden intent. Oh Leon.
“Didn’t you get them for me?” you almost snorted, busying yourself away.
“I know, baby. They look very good on you, that’s exactly why I bought them.” His eyes lingered on the fat of your ass, almost completely bare since it was a teeny bikini – in pink. It fit you like a thong. (Was that the reason he bought the bikini? Yeah, very likely.)
Then his eyes lingered on the two very defined lines where your cheeks and the back of your thighs conjoined, which had Leon bite his bottom lip unbeknownst to you. What you also couldn’t notice was that his eyes flickered to you, beaming at the back of your head, canopied by your luscious, beautiful hair, as a mischievous glint played at the corner of his mouth. He let himself sink on top of you, with his head resting on your bottom and his two hands grabbing at the peak of your flesh, before it curved down your lower back.
“Leon,” you warned.
“You know what to call me, sweetheart,” he smirked, his cheek plush against yours of your nether regions, before adding, “Damn, better than a fuckin’ pillow, baby. Daddy’s fuckin’ pillow throne.”
You rolled your eyes, the sharp sound of your keyboard coming to a momentary halt, before deciding not to give him any more attention, already wary of his next throughout move. A couple of minutes passed, and it seemed like Leon just wanted to just keep you company. Then he turned his head and gave your butt a kiss, his quiet companionship probably just a sham, or maybe not? After all, it wasn’t that absurd to believe that the man you’d been with for months now (officially, but years when on-and-off phases were considered) wanted to enjoy his time with you.
It was normal. So, you didn’t give it another thought.
“So, when are you going to make things right?” You knew what he was hinting at, but you just needed to get this assignment done, because once you’d give in, Leon would go a mile.
“You mean that I called you by your real name instead of Daddy?”
“That’s exactly right, baby,” he purred, his voice evidently coated with more than just trying to have simple conversation with you. “I am waiting, sweetheart.”
You huffed out a sigh of slight annoyance: you usually loved the infamous back-and-forth with him as it made the relationship incredibly fun. (You did love it, but ugh!) as mentioned earlier, you didn’t want to postpone your work, because you and Leon had a date tomorrow, and that would stress you out beyond belief – the possibility of having to complete it on the same day, with not enough time to work. It was however worth mentioning that Leon took you out at least twice a week now – something that you hadn’t been able to get used to but appreciated a lot. He made sure to be with you as much as possible. It felt like a honeymoon.
“Daddy,” you gave in. “There, are you happy?” (You loved calling him that, but you couldn’t let him know now. Priorities.)
“Very,” he chuckled, drawing the pad of his finger along the waistband of your bikini bottom that clung to you – from Leon’s perspective – like a piece of art, scantily clad, simply perfect. Because it wasn’t even enough to keep his sexual imagination spurred. No, it was right in front of him. Only a sneak peek and he’d able to see everything.
“Big-time fan of your bikini,” he mentioned again, playing with the elastic band. “Did I already say that baby?”
“Yes, you did.”
“Well, I am also a big-time fan of your butt,” he cooed. “So fuckin’ perfect, perfect for Daddy to play with.”
You stopped typing for a second, and Leon took notice – which made him smirk to himself. And since you couldn’t see what was happening behind you, he already had bigger things in motion for you to make exactly that happen – to get you to turn around, knowing full well that his words affected you despite your attempts to pretend otherwise.
“I need to get this paper done.”
“You’re always so grumpy when you do your homework, baby,” he chuckled amused. “My little grumpy baby.”
“ ‘m not grumpy!” you protested softly, wiggling your butt to release yourself from his hold that only got tighter in return to squish his face against you.
“Yes, you are.”
“No.”
“Yes.” He supported his position with a final blow on your ass that stung enough for you to stop talking back to him altogether now though. You groaned out of frustration, Leon believing it was a clear sign that he was able to pull you away from your studies, only to be proven wrong when he heard the clicking resume.
“Grumpy little baby,” he continued, and he still didn’t hear another word from you. You were serious about it, Leon needed to get it together for at least another hour, then you’d be willing to help him with whatever he needed – well, it was you obviously, that’s what he needed at this given moment, but alas, Leon needed to be patient now. You had things to do.
“Grumpy, grumpy, gru-“
“Are you done yet?”
“I don’t think so,” Leon cackled, asking himself what he needed to do to fully distract you so you could loosen up and finally concede. Well, he had something in mind. He pulled the waistband down until it revealed your backside crease and started pressing his lips against it. He peppered along the skin that was – barely - covered beforehand.
“Leon,” you warned again.
“Daddy,” he corrected cockily once again; it was clear to him that it was starting to get to you a bit since you kept resisting him by refusing to call him the name he ached to hear. You were so predictable at this point that Leon didn’t even need to think hard anymore. He had you in the palm of his hand already, however you tried remaining composed. “I’m your Daddy, baby.”
“I am trying to get this paper done.”
Trying, he needed to hear that, because what was it before? Need?
“And you can, just let Daddy have his fun.” His breath fanned against your skin and your focus shifted slightly, the tapping of your fingers steadily decreasing. “And are you having fun doing that? Maybe you could spend some time with me, instead. Way more fun, baby. Daddy won’t disappoint.”
“We are spending time.”
“True, Daddy’s kissing your perfect butt while you’re doing that horseshit,” he snorted, lolling out his tongue and gliding his wet muscle along the cleft that almost made you whimper, but you kept it in for your sake. Once you’d let one noise escape, Leon would take full action – of that, you were certain.
“You’re no fun, baby,” he teased as if he had known that you were trying not to give him what he wanted to hear.
He laid his head back down on your ass and closed his eyes, twisting and turning every once and a while, trying to get comfortable - which was maddening beyond belief, since you felt every single reposition of his. It wasn’t far-fetched of you to assume that he might be doing this on purpose, but oh well, you had no choice but to let it pass.
Your typing stopped for a minute, because you started reading something once again, and that’s when Leon took advantage and started drumming his flattened-out hands on your ass in a rhythm hardly discernable to you, but he was probably harmonizing with Bad Bunny’s song (NUEVAYoL, now) with the taps against your flesh.
“When are you going to pay me attention?” he whined, which was feigned mind you. “I’m bored.”
“Then go do something.”
“You know what? I should,” he smirked. “How about that?”
And the next thing you knew, Leon hid his nose in between your cheeks, close to your pussy, and inhaled sharply through his nose that made you hot instantly – out of embarrassment.
“Oh my God, what are you doing!?” you squealed, extending your arm to grab him by his brown locks only for your plan to get called off when he slapped your hand away and locked his forearms around your ass so he could dig deeper. “Stop sniffing me, you pervert! Leon!”
You were so beyond ashamed, not because you feared that you’d smell bad or anything, but he was like…breathing in your scent through his nostrils – it was loud and reached even to your ears. Your ass and pussy were almost bare. You had no word to describe how it felt.
And despite your emotions taking their course to cause a concoction of slight shame (?) (maybe even slight adoration (?)), you heard him muse, “Never.” Which was muffled by the way since he was basically indulging in you, that’s when you felt his chuckle vibrate against your butt and started swaying his head side to side, burying himself between your cheeks – waterboarding them.
“Stop, Daddy!” you begged with a high-pitched voice and sensed his movement finally falter, as if you were given the right code to put a stop on his foolishness.
“There we go, baby,” he purred, rose slightly, and planted another kiss on your butt before positioning himself again, letting himself relax. Highly satisfied now. “Was that so hard? You always make things way harder on yourself when you don’t listen to me.”
“Oh my God. You are-“
“Sexy? Handsome? Rich? Ripped? Daddy as hell?”
You shook your head and rolled your eyes again as you tried your hardest to keep your laughter in. He had become extremely boyish; Leon had aged back at least thirty years. He had always been this funny, but Leon was lethal now. A true jokester. If he didn’t get his way, instead of asserting dominance, he would say something really funny, and that was extremely effective.
“’s that Bad Bunny you’re listening to, baby?”
“Yeah.”
“Suits you,” he mused, currently on a cloud – that is: your ass was the cloud he was flying on. “Sexy mamacita.”
“Can you even speak Spanish?” you scoffed.
“Of course, baby. Your Daddy’s been to Spain,” he explained, arrogance at an all-time-high and then: “Tu sabor es dulce.”
You secretly clicked away your document and then tried typing it into your laptop. Yeah, Google Translator was going to be your friend here. It translates into: your flavor is sweet.
And something in your stomach…. sank. Oh God.
Were you getting jealous?
Well, it wasn’t necessarily a secret to you that your Daddy got around before you. After all, that’s how he had gained his experience. And you figured, the only way he could have known these words were that he used it firsthand on stunning women in Spain. You hated your jealous side. But could you be blamed for it though? It was Leon. Leon was Leon. Case in point. That alone was enough. Leon was nothing short of a man who exuded seductiveness, manliness and confidence. Sometimes cockiness too, but only to fool around and poke at you. Like right now, to make you shy, because he adored it.
One time, back then – years ago – you’d asked him once how many bodies he had and he made you guess. Fifty? No, more. That alone made you stop because your stomach turned. The fact that other women had your Daddy before you was something you couldn’t describe, because it wasn’t even logical. He had you now. He loved you badly. And here you were getting jealous.
“What’s wrong, my baby?” he asked, seemingly oblivious to what you were feeling.
“Nothing.”
That caught Leon’s attention – immediately.
“Oh no,” he said. “There’s something going on with my baby. What is it?”
“Like I said. Nothing.”
Leon rolled his eyes. “Seriously?”
“Yup.”
Leon bit into his cheek. Oh, did he absolutely despise it when you’d shut down. His sweet girl being silent with him was torture to him. It hadn’t happened ever since being here. Especially when everything turned out for the better and both of you returned to your ways of being obsessed with each other like two rabid rabbits.
But his ways have changed now. Instead of getting annoyed or pissed, he’d get on your nerves. Because there was no way you could stay at your Daddy for that long. And he was right.
“My baby’s grumpy again?”
“No.”
“Oh, my baby sounds very, very, very,” he dragged it out – in amusement, “grumpy.”
“No.”
He had to laugh and you felt it against your cheeks. “Oh, sweetheart you love your Daddy this much, don’t you? Are you jealous?”
Silence.
But that’s when Leon got a bit serious. He hated when you made yourself question with whatever. You were perfect to him. Sure, you were confident, but again, there were ways of living as a woman, no? Insecurities would show up sometimes. For some strange reason, women did have this common theme of being jealous of earlier ones with whom their partners had sexual experiences. It didn’t even make sense. You loved Leon deeply. So you hated the fact that there had been women, in the past, lucky enough to get him too.
“Baby,” he sighed. “Stop it. You know I only love you.”
Silence. Again. It was driving Leon off the wall, and he didn’t even do anything wrong, mind you.
“Baby.”
Nothing.
“Is my gorgeous girl currently present? Hello?”
Yeah, Leon absolutely hated how hard-headed you were. It was beyond attractive when you’d set yourself a goal, and when you were stubborn about pleasing him, but this? Fuck no. Your Daddy wasn’t going to deal with it any longer, and he already had his ace up his sleeve.
His fingers trailed along your flesh, gripping it and then you felt Leon kneading it. He would move your ass in a way so that he could spot your pussy which was barely covered by the pink silky fabric of your swimming string. That’s when you heard him say, “Can you believe it, baby? Mommy is mad at Daddy.”
Who was he talking to?
Then he pulled your cheeks apart and was able to see your puffy folds, an inch away from being bare and Leon gazed at it with such admiration he treated it like it was something precious to him - utterly pretty to him like a rose, “I guess it’s just us two now who will have fun, hm? Since Mommy wants to be jealous for absolutely no reason.”
You had to suck in your bottom lip to keep yourself from breaking out in laughter. You could not give in. Leon, on the other hand, was going to go all in now. To make his sweet girl laugh…. or moan.
“Let Daddy kiss it better, yeah?”
Oh God.
You were folding. Yeah, you were surely folding now. Your fake, unaffected antics came down crumbling. Especially given that he would take action. Which was now:
“Yeah,” he whispered, leaning in. “I definitely have to kiss it better, don’t I?”
To brace yourself and to keep your posture until further notice, you tried typing away which got scrapped when you felt Leon’s lips on yours below the hips. Your eyes fluttered, and you swallowed down the saliva stuck in your throat as you occupied yourself with your work – but Leon was going to make it very hard for you to keep going.
You felt his plump lips graze your clothed entrance down to your clit. Whenever he got to a spot, that’s where you’d feel him. He peppered your pussy with soft, sweet kisses and you overhead him moaning against you as you tried to be a good student, but failed miserably when you also sensed his vibrations against your clit. He was so slow, drawing back to look at your pussy with half-lidded eyes and then would go back to press his lips against you.
“You’re so perfect, aren’t you?”
Your eyelids cemented now, your chest heaved up a bit more and there was no typing to be heard by Leon anymore. On top of that, you started perching your ass up a bit more, so he had better reach which he instantly observed, and took it as a cue to teasingly play with your bikini thong and tugged it, squishing it against your pussy that made him groan. “I will never get fuckin’ tired of this……. Fuck.”
He couldn’t help himself anymore, he rolled out his tongue and took one long swipe across your folds, almost reaching up to where your other entrance lingered. The fabric was no barrier at all, in fact, the string was so crumpled and tight against your core that Leon had a full view of your pussy. He closed his eyes and began to flick his tongue up and down, moving his head in rowing motion to exude more control and force with his wet muscle.
It felt so good. You bit inside your cheeks to keep yourself from making a beat, but your shaky breathing through your nose gave you away. What also gave you away was this: you reached out behind you, putting your hand on his head and you started massaging his scalp with your fingernails which made him moan once again, and you heard him purr which made you wet on the spot, “You’re not mad at Daddy anymore, pretty baby?”
“I…I never,” you gulped, clenching your jaw and huffed out a whimper. “I never was.”
“I know, baby. I know,” he cooed, tugging at your strings that were held together by a knot and released them to make you bare. “You just need Daddy to take all the stress away, don’t you? Poor baby. Always working so hard. Well, I am here now, am I not?”
He took the fabric and carefully slipped it under the waistband of his swimming briefs and gazed at your pussy. “Fuck, I love you. And I love her.”
“I love you, too,” you whimpered and Leon had to chuckle at how cute you sounded.
“Daddy knows that, sweetheart,” he cooed, tipping in to marvel at how you looked between your legs and continued, “Lift your hips a bit.”
You got into the position he told you to be in.
“Mmm, baby…. There we go. Yeah, good fuckin’ girl.”
Your ass jutted into the air a bit more and your legs were parted a bit more: your head was still on the lounge (glasses were cast aside), as well as your chest, you just made sure to create a perfect curve with enough room for Leon to play with. He loved it when you got comfortable and let him take control. “You're gonna’ let Daddy spoil you, sweetheart?”
Immediately, you said, “Yes.”
He snorted out a warm chuckle and felt his heart beat faster. He loved you so much, even a simple ‘yes’ could make him come undone. You expected him to say something again – maybe a compliment, maybe another suggestion on what to do. But no, you felt his tongue against your pussy again, gliding up and now, over and over again. Then he tilted his head to the side while holding you gently by the hips, and started sucking your clit into his mouth that made you whimper as you ran your hand through his full brown hair.
“Oh God,” you whined. “It feels so good.”
You couldn’t see Leon, but you did feel him smile when he returned to licking you instead, coating your core in nothing but his spit. He pursed his lips and spat on your pussy, then he pulled back where a string of his saliva hung from your core to his mouth while he was fixed on his view right before his very own eyes and watched his spit drip down your folds. “Fuck, you have no idea good you look down here, baby.”
He latched himself onto you, and his kisses got deeper and more intense, which made you pull on his hair, and he responded by moaning out loud against you. Leon anticipated that you’d push your core back, into his face, which you did, and he gladly buried himself in between your thighs, slurping your pussy as his jaw fastened up and down while his spit was falling down on the lounge. It was embarrassingly filthy, but Leon didn’t care. His mind went off and the only thing on his mind was you and how sweet how tasted.
“Fuck,” he gasped, swallowing down your water and his salvia simultaneously. “Daddy loves you, sweetheart. He loves you so much.”
You breathed out yet another whine, and started shifting your hips in tandem with his movement which didn’t really work that well because Leon was getting messier and more sporadic. You heard and felt him slurp and suck your folds in, then he let them go to smile to himself, closing his eyes once more and whispered against your folds, “Pretty one. And you’re all mine, aren’t you?”
He heard you mewl loudly which made him chuckle because he knew you were losing it while he was teasing your soaked cunt with his lips and cooed, “Yeah, you belong to Daddy don’t you, sweetheart?”
You nodded frantically against the surface which Leon couldn’t, again, see, but telepathically received in the atmosphere, and was proven right when you whispered, “Yes. I only belong to you.”
Which was funny, because Leon was both talking to you and …. Her. The one right in front of him. Seemed like you were speaking for her down there, and that’s why he added, purring, “Exactly. Only mine, sweetheart. Only Daddy gets to taste you like this, right?” and then dragged his wet muscle to urge you to answer him.
“Y-yes, only you, Daddy,” you whined, almost on the verge of tears, since you were beyond gone at this point and you were overwhelmed by both of his words and his tongue, so you tightened your grip on his hair. “Oh God.”
“Shh, baby. Why so noisy, hm?” he bantered lowly, a huge smirk painted across his face that was half coated in your wetness and his spit, and then he started prodding his muscle around your clit again to hear the noises he longed for despite having just teased you about how expressive you were. And once again, it made him laugh while eating you out when you exhaled shakily and dragged out a sweet moan when he started making your clit disappear again.
“D-daddy, I – oh, I can-“
“Daddy’s right here,” he cooed, kissing your folds in slight rotation as if he was making out with you and circled his tongue around, spat on it and smooched you again. “I am right here, sweet thing.”
You rolled your eyes back and started sniffling under the sensation that Leon was giving you. Not only did he feel good when he was on you, but the love you had for him intensified the physical feeling en-masse. And that’s why you began to feel extreme pressure in between your hips, about to release your devotion you had for him.
“I-I am go-“
“Already?” he grinned cockily and then had other things in mind while giving you a slight swat on your ass. “Daddy’s not even half-done with you, baby. How about I give her some attention, too, then?”
You were completely immersed; your focus was on Leon alone. And despite that, you couldn’t really think clearly to reflect on what he just said. So, he expressed it to you by coating his finger, pushed one cheek - slightly - aside as you were already exposed to have more access and started to play with your other entrance in circles.
“Oh f-fuck!” you exhaled in a miminy-piminy voice. Leon loved it.
“Nuh uh,” he tutted, feigning offence but he was very much aware that he was practically torturing you with his pleasure at this point. “Daddy doesn’t like it when you cuss, baby. You know that. Be a good girl and tell Daddy how it feels instead.”
And then he waited for an answer while kissing your pussy again and outlining the other entrance between your cheeks with his finger. You couldn’t respond, hence why Leon added onto it - to sweep you away - and centered his tongue on it for a split second, then returned to your wet pussy by slipping his tongue along your slit, pressing onto your bundle of nerves again.
You started babbling something incoherently and not even Leon could make out what it meant, but it did mean this: you were in trance. Then, he propped himself up a bit and let a bead of his spit fall. Leon started delving his tongue inside your other entrance while rubbing your clit with his hand now and heard you squeak.
“T-that...I-I…O-oh!” you said, trying to speak but evidently couldn’t even foster a coherent sentence. Which started to get even worse for you, because he started getting really sloppy. He withdrew slightly and let a lot of his saliva drip down again, both in between your ass and your pussy, never ceasing his movement on your clit and then poked the tip of his tongue into you, repeatedly, while groaning.
“Daddy!”
And this time you didn’t even get an answer. He was so fixated on making you feel good he lost himself in his groans and his very own eyes rolled back while tasting you. He latched himself onto you and buried himself in between, stimulating both ways which was a blessing and a curse at the same time. The noises were so wet, so explicit, that were you not currently on cloud nine, then probably would have cowered away somewhere.
“Does that feel good, yeah?” he moaned, the tone of his voice was way more intense as he was watching how you squirmed when he rubbed your pussy faster and hissed, “Yeah, baby. Fuckin’ tell me, cmon. Daddy’s waiting.”
“It-” you started and then peeped out when you felt him spank you.
“Daddy’s being mean, I know, baby,” he jabbed, another swat of his palm hitting your behind and kissed the cheek he had just spanked as slight compensation. “But you fuckin’ love it don’t you?”
“Yes!” you blurted out, before he could hit you again, which he did, while his flattened hand kept massaging your clit, again and again - never ending - as he saw you twitch under his maneuvers.
“That’s fuckin’ right,” he cussed cockily, biting the fat of your ass with smirk, while gazing at the view set before him, completely drunk. “You fuckin’ love it when Daddy gets like this. You naughty little girl,” he chuckled darkly, and dragged his tongue in between your butt again, entering and working his way into you once more.
“Oh, my fucking God,” you cried, slapping the bedding of the lounge with your hands and the shins of your legs all at once, “Oh God, I can’t do it.”
He chuckled darkly again and one could hear how he ate you out simultaneously because the tone of his laughter was strained due to the movement of his wet muscle. Then he swirled a messy kiss on it, and purred, “Oh poor baby, Daddy’s tryna make you feel better and now you’re saying you can’t take it? Don’t be silly, sweetheart. Yes, you can.”
“No!” you sobbed.
Leon went off the rails; he couldn’t hold back. His dick needed to get freed from his briefs, hence why he pulled them down and started jerking off with his hand that used to touch your pussy and reveled in you fully with his face buried in your ass. He had to twist his body a bit, laying sideways to touch his cock. Despite getting carried away, you heard a snap of his waistband and, upon looking, actually spotted that he was pleasuring himself and it made you go insane in an instant.
“No, oh-“ you cried, “Please.”
He wobbled his head side to side between your cheeks, ignoring you while his groans were muffled from clamping his mouth onto you and switched to open-mouthed kisses every once and a while as he kept nudging his tongue into you. He got more erratic with his cock, and he started moaning against your skin while satisfying himself which you’d be very willing to help him with, hence why you sobbed, “Please Daddy, stop.”
“Fuck no,” he moaned, cleaning his mess with his palate and admired the way it glistened. “Daddy’s not fuckin’ done.”
“But I-“
Smack! The hand that gripped his cock slapped your ass cheek instead, and he wouldn’t let you speak up as he followed up with another one right after.
“Why did I say?” he mused teasingly. “That’s right. Your Daddy said he’s not done. So why the back talk, baby?”
Despite Leon getting more dominant, you still tried explaining, “I want to make you feel good, too!”
“No,” he snorted out a laughter and shook his head, while forcing himself into his hand again and hissed, “I know what you are trying, baby. Daddy’s not stupid.”
You were confused, because you meant what you said, and then he continued, “You’re just trying to run away from me. Can’t fool me.”
“No!” you exclaimed and breathed heavily. “I mean it. Please.”
His smirk faltered and he sensed that you were speaking the truth. He released the grip from his cock and despite that it perched up fully. He was rock fucking hard that it peaked up to his navel, which you were about to see soon. He knelt behind you and he kept his drunk eyes on your spit laced ass and pussy as he croaked, “Yeah? You wanna love on Daddy, baby?”
“Yes,” you whimpered needily, “I’m begging you.”
“Begging now, huh?” he asked, the pinnacle of his facial muscles allowing him to stretch it into a shit-eating smirk. “Daddy will be nice and give you what you want. But tell me what you wanna do with Daddy first. And then he’ll decide.”
You breathed and gulped. You were still in the same position as Leon kept mustering the naked view right in front of him while he was touching himself. “Fucking hell.”
“Wanna suck your cock,” you whined looking back at him, and bit your bottom lip as you mentally prepared for what he was going to say. “Please, Daddy.”
“Mmm, “ he hummed, as if he was contemplating it. Externally, he pretended to be unaffected, playing hard to get. But internally, he felt his heart ready to burst and his chest tighten. Nothing on Earth felt better than hearing you say these words, because it made Leon feel special. His sweet girl, so eager to please him – were he able to, he would get on his knees and marry you right now. That’s how you made him feel. And you all you did was offer him a blowjob.
But of course, kept asking cockily, “Why? Why should Daddy let his sweet baby suck his cock?” as he licked lips and kept playing with himself with his eyes glazed with pure affection and need.
On that note, he loved when you put in effort. He knew how crazy you were about him, but hearing you admit it in your own words—how much you wanted to please him—was something else entirely.
“Because I love you,” you admitted shyly, swallowing hard. “And I wanna show Daddy how much I love him.”
Leon’s eyes rolled back and scrunched shut. He needed to keep it together if he wanted to keep acting like he was unmoved. Your words tasted as sweet as honey on his palate. Simultaneously, your words were also charged like the finest artillery busting through his walls of his unyielding façade.
You heard slick movement in the background, and you whimpered, knowing Leon kept jacking himself off while he was staring at your pussy. You asked yourself what needed to be done here in order for your wish to be granted.
Well, there was something that Leon could absolutely not resist. You snuck your arm underneath your body until you reached your core, smirking to yourself, you spread your folds with your fingers, because it usually robbed Leon of his reason. He was going to lose it. On cue, you heard him whine and his breathing got ragged as he kept pumping his dick.
But then…. he stopped.
Instead of going ballistic, what you were used to, Leon bent over you menacingly, completely covering you – and he was quiet. Very quiet. Instead of spanking you or yanking you, he laid over you like a blanket draped across you.
You heard his shaky breathing right by your ear and felt him tug strands of your hair behind your ear as well. Then he whispered, “Do you really want to play this game with Daddy, sweet baby?”
This was new. You expected him to give in, but oh well. None of that happened, instead, he snorted out a chuckle and shook his head. “Daddy’s not falling for that. Silly, silly girl. You know that you’re risking getting bent over his knee for a big spanking, don’t you, sweetheart?”
You gulped.
Then he mused, “Yeah. I know, baby. You do want a spanking, poor baby. Daddy knows.” He kissed your cheek and then went on to say, cooing, “Well, how about no. He has…. different plans for you.”
You couldn’t respond - this was extremely unusual for him. You didn’t want to cross any boundaries, because you didn’t know what was going to happen next. So, you kept your mouth sealed shut.
“So silent all of a sudden,” he teased, pressing his nose against your cheek and whispered, “But Daddy will be nice, unlike you, and tell you. Daddy’s gonna be very, very, very mad at you for the rest of the day, baby. Very mad. And because of that, he won’t touch you.”
Oh no. Your eyes widened.
“Yeah…,” he whispered. “And you know what else?”
Oh oh.
“He will make sure you regret wanting to piss him off, too. So? He’ll tie you to his bed. You won’t be able to do anything except watch Daddy play with himself. And Daddy will be very loud on purpose, too.”
Silence.
“Still wanna make him mad, or are you gonna be nice and apologize to him?”
“I’m gonna’ apologize to Daddy,” you offered weakly, deep in regret.
“Oh, there we go,” he mused cockily, studying you with half-lidded eyes. “Because that doesn’t sound good at all, am I right? Poor baby that would be torture for you.”
He was right. It was already hard enough for you to peek that he was enjoying himself without you…. so, tied to the bed? Having nowhere to go? Without being able to touch him? Yeah, you wouldn’t be able to survive it. Slightly exaggerated, but the point still stands. Leon really did change his approach about everything, didn’t he? This was way worse than just getting a spanking or him getting aggressive.
“You know what to do when you want to apologize to Daddy don’t you, baby?” he asked gently, when he saw you stay still. You nodded, turning your head to face him and looked at him with needy eyes, “Wanna kiss you.”
Leon smiled, and leaned in, brushing his lips against you and pecking you softly. “Thank you, baby. Apology accepted.”
He withdrew a bit to pepper your shoulders with his soft lips which made you giggle. You felt him smile against your skin and to your surprise, he tickled the right side of your waist, so you responded by laughing, “Stop it!”
“Alright,” he chuckled.
He unlatched himself completely, sat down on the lounge and looked at you expectingly. Since you felt his presence leave, you got up and turned around with your knees still on the bedding. And then you saw him fully. The first thing you focused on was his cock with his briefs tucked down. It’s so big, standing there proudly for you with thick veins along his length and a dark tip for you that glazed with his precum which made you moan out loud.
“C’mere, baby,” he purred. “What are you waiting for, hm?”
“Oh my God.”
He chuckled. “Come and give Daddy a kiss.”
You swooned. You crawled over to him, with big, innocent Bambi eyes whilst sucking your bottom lip in and smiling sheepishly at him. He gazed at you lovingly and lustfully at once, the corner of his mouth slightly heightened. When you arrived, you cradled his nape with your hands and kissed him without hesitation. It made Leon moan. His hands smoothed along your back until they reached your bottom again, squeezing it and playing with the fat of your ass.
You pulled back, to joke, “I think you’re obsessed with my butt.”
“I am,” he whispered, skimming your lips. “Because I am obsessed with my baby.”
You tilted your head to the side and marveled at your man. God, was he handsome. The fact he was yours, and the fact that he only wanted you made you the happiest woman alive.
You bridged the distance again, your lips were fiercer this time around while you reached down to grip his cock and started jerking him lazily. Leon withdrew slightly which made you whimper, and he whispered, “Yeah? You wanna make your Daddy feel good?”
“Yes,” you breathed out needily.
“Well, go ahead then, sweet angel,” he whispered again, smiling at you. “Go make Daddy proud.”
He ended his sentence with such sweet words that the idea of pleasing him greatly overwhelmed your mind. You intertwined your lips with his once more as the kisses became sloppier and more passionate with each second. Leon kept you close to him by holding you with his palm covering your nape as you changed positions whilst stroking him. You got up slightly and Leon guided you, giving you room to settle down, spreading his legs so you could edge in between with your knees hitting the beige concrete now. You felt how huge he was as your hand moved up and down along his length, the soft skin branding into your hold. You broke the kiss as a tiny silk of saliva connected the both of you. Leon grazed his hand from the back of your neck, around, arriving at the front and put light pressure on your windpipe, secured by his thumb web, as he bored his half-lidded eyes into you. You whimpered, which turned Leon’s plump flesh of his lips into a peak. Seeing you gaze at him as if he were your everything tugged at his heart and heaped onto his inherent need to praise you.
“You’re doing such a good job stroking me like that, sweetheart,” he cooed which ended with a moan as you tightened your grip slightly. “Just like that…. Good girl.”
“Can I, Daddy?” you asked softly, pumping him a bit faster when you heard him moan.
“Of course, baby,” he exhaled, leaning back until he hit the backrest after giving you another kiss to watch you fully instead. Leon let both of his arms rest along the back of his pool couch with his large muscles fully stretching along each side while hawking every subtle shift you made for him. You were a bit nervous as his eyes were fixed on you like a camera, but you figured, you wanted to look pretty for him, so you leaned in and let his cock come into contact with your plush mouth. You gave him tiny pecks at first which gradually turned into tiny kitten licks which made Leon go nuts. There was nothing sweeter to him than seeing you treating his cock as if you were cherishing it. Leon’s breaths stuttered, not much, but enough for you to hear that Leon was enjoying this a lot more than he led on. Leon was overly responsive with you, always, but not when you’d start sucking his cock. He needed to see how much work you were willing to put in, and when he was satisfied, that’s exactly when he would give in and make you hear it, too. You kept peppering his cock, from tip to shaft and when you arrived at the bottom you dragged your tongue all across his length while looking at him. It was nearly impossible for you to keep eye-contact with him because it felt as though he could stare straight into your soul, but you kept coating his cock with your spit.
You started sucking his tip teasingly. When you saw his neck muscle tense up, you doubled your efforts to force a sound from him by taking his cock, sticking your tongue out and slapped his dick against your wet muscle which made Leon smirk.
“Shit, baby. You love Daddy’s cock, don’t you,” he chuckled lowly; his blue eyes blurring everything else out, leaving you as his sole focus. You smiled sheepishly as you twirled your tongue around his tip, but your eyes belied your coy act. Leon seemed to notice, because he was evidently becoming cockier. He sensed that something inside of you switched and he hissed as his mandible slacked a bit. Leon was close to leaving a moan for you.
“You’re gonna let Daddy slap it on your tongue now?” he rasped, tilting his head to the side. He wanted to drag this out as much as possible, because he knew once he would give you full control over his cock, he was going to lose it and get loud. You nodded and bit your bottom lip while looking at him innocently. Leon’s right arm left the backrest so his hand could grip his cock. His masseters flexed with the clenching of his jaw as he breathed through his nose and croaked, “Open wide, baby.”
You wanted to look as good as possible, so you did what you were told. Leon shook his head and snickered. He saw how willing you were now, so he broke his gaze from you to appreciate your pink tongue that was awaiting his cock. He dragged his length over your tongue, swaying side to side as if he was playing with it. You let him do it for as long as he wanted. You could feel heat coil in your lower stomach as his blue eyes stared back at you again - you were on full display, under his surveillance as his cock budged constantly. Then he teased you with, “Look at you, angel. You look so beautiful with Daddy’s fat cock on you. So, so eager for me, aren’t you?”
As a response, you moaned which he received on his cock and made Leon stifle a whimper. You couldn’t hold it in. His words would mush your brain; everything he said or did would force a reaction out of you – no matter what it was. “Yeah, so fuckin’ eager for me. Good girl.” And that’s when he stopped teasing your tongue with his cock and smacked it against your wet muscle instead – repeatedly. Each slap landed with a wet splat; his dick felt extremely heavy. You stayed still this entire time, as if he had hypnotized you into submission. The thwacking was so raunchy you were almost tempted to start touching yourself but would leave you under his punishing palm which you didn’t want at this moment. No, you needed him inside of you and it didn’t matter whether he was inside your mouth or your pussy.
“Daddy’s little angel,” he cooed, moving his cock to your cheek and coated your skin with the spit that you left on his length instead. He was so big that he covered your side with his tip reaching over the tail of your eyebrow. It was incredibly filthy and lewd, but Leon had you so wrapped around his little finger that your mental restraints vanished; instead, you loved how he dominated you.
“Such an angel, but so naughty for Daddy. Fuck, I love you, baby,” he purred, leaning in and bending his upper body just so he could snatch your jaw with the hand that held his cock and pull you into a kiss. That’s when he succumbed and moaned against you, showing you how much he loved it when you were obedient and would let him do as he pleased. You loved kissing Leon and he loved kissing you, that’s why he didn’t let up on you. If it were up to him, he would keep it that way, but he knew you wanted it, hell, he wanted it, too. So, he figured he could kiss you later when he’s inside of you. He indulged in you, letting his tongue lick yours before pulling back with an open-mouthed kiss, adoring you. “Gorgeous, so fuckin’ pretty. God.”
“I love you, too, Daddy,” you whimpered, which made him grin ear to ear.
“Yeah? You love your Daddy, baby?” he asked gently, needing it for assurance.
And as you nodded, he chuckled warmly, pecking you.
You thought he’d stay put, but your confession elicited a different reaction from him. He settled back onto the longue, leaning against the backrest just as he had before. He did, however, keep his hand on you, cupping your cheek, adding gently, “Go ahead now, angel.” You leaned into his palm, smiling at him as your heart raced at his tenderness. He returned the smile and looked at you anticipatingly. You took it as your cue to act and didn’t hesitate to put his cock into your mouth. You gave his mushroom tip a soft kiss and then let Leon’s thick girth disappear slowly, as you worked your way down mindfully.
“Oh shit.”
Since you had to adjust to his size first, careful not to use your teeth, you assisted your mouth with your hand that worked his shaft that wasn’t suctioned in yet. You heard Leon breathe out small moans and his eyelids fluttered. His hand kept cupping your cheek as he didn’t break away from watching you – not even for a split second - although it got harder for him when you made him feel this good. You bobbed your head slowly and controlled, taking him in with your eyes fully closed.
“Just like that, baby,” he moaned and gulped. “Slow and sweet, just how Daddy loves it.”
Leon hissed and scrunched his nose as well as his lips, the overwhelming warmth of your mouth carrying him away. You were so beautiful to him, you always were, but he believed you were at your best when all you wanted was to pleasure him. He could see it on you as you were fully absorbed, with your eyelids covering the windows to your cherubic soul, refusing to be rushed here. You sucked him deeper now as you finally felt confident enough. Leon’s cock was big, but you made it work, nonetheless. You always did.
“Yeah”, he rasped. “There you go, sweetheart. Nice and easy.”
You started swiveling your head in sync with your hand, doubling down as you heard him grunting. His hand slid through your hair and Leon wanted to look at you, but his eyes rolled back when he felt his tip hit the back of your throat. When you squeezed him tighter past the inside of your lips, you bounced your head a couple times, taking him deep as you cinched your throat together.
“Fuck!”
Leon’s face contorted in pleasure, and he let his head fall back. His mouth opened wide and he exhaled a couple of sharp, short, hot moans, when he heard you slurping his cock and working him smoothly with your mouth and hand; his hand began to move from your cheek to your bump as his arm see-sawed with the dipping of your head.
“Oh shit,” he moaned again, when you turned your head in circular motion once more before finally bottoming out fully as you placed your hand right on his right thigh, choking on his cock. “Oh fuck, baby. Yeah, just like that…. Fuckin’ give it to me.”
Leon’s hand kept you there for a couple seconds which you didn’t mind – like at all. You mewled, letting him know that you loved that he took control and Leon almost lost his mind when he could feel the vibrations on his cock, his grip tightening on the back of your head. That’s when he heard you gag; he stopped pushing you onto his cock and released you from deepthroating him, but his hand didn’t budge from you. You wobbled on his cock a few more times with your cheeks hollowing. Then you moaned around his length as you withdrew with teary eyes since you needed some air to breathe. Leon jerked his head up and saw you with red lips and spit drooling down which made him groan again. You kept jerking him, sparking wet sounds into the air and smiled at him as you sunk your teeth in your bottom lip.
Leon found it hard not to take full charge of you as he witnessed how binary your behavior had become – taking your Daddy deep but also looking at him like you didn’t just do that, as though you were the purest girl on the planet. His cock kept getting your attention, your hand and grip unwavering as you started looking at his cock like it was your most prized possession. Therefore, you added kittenishly and giggled, “I love your cock, Daddy.”
“Fu-“
Before he could say anything, mind you, he was on his way to completely detach from reality, you added onto it by tipping your head in, closing the distance once more, but not to suck his dick, but to suck his balls as you kept stroking him.
“F-fuck, baby,” he exhaled, dragging out a deep groan that erupted from the very end of his chest. “Oh, you’re spoilin’ the fuck outta me, sweetheart. That’s a good fuckin’ girl right there…. Shit.”
Through his misty daze of lust, he was able to see how you were working your fingers around his thick length as your mouth tasted the silky skin of his heavy balls before wrapping your lips around one. You pumped him a bit faster, and Leon had a hard time not making any noises. He kept switching up between grunting and moaning; it was too much as he felt you squelch his balls, so his left arm left the backrest for Leon to bite into his hand, balled into a fist, because you were paying attention to every detail of his fat dick.
“Fuck, ba- fuck!” he whined muffled, when he watched you lap on his balls feverishly, way too obscene that almost had him punch this bedding of the couch. You released his ball with a lewd pop and then concentrated on the other one as his cock throbbed in your hand. Needless to say, you were completely soaked, hearing Leon was torturous on its own. And when you decided to look up to him, you wished you hadn’t because you went feral. Your man was fully gone; his eyes were half-lidded and glazed with pure love and lust for you; you saw his abdomen muscles as well as his well-built chest flex every time you immersed yourself too deeply in his cock and balls. When your eyes met, he whined, “Shit, sweet angel, Daddy’s taught you well, huh. Fuckin’ look at you.”
You returned his whine, then switched plans to take him into your mouth once more with his cock meeting your warm walls and he started squirming a bit. The grip on your hair tightened now and he started putting light pressure on your head as you sucked him deeper and deeper while playing with his balls with your hand. “F-fuck, oh fuck, so pretty takin’ my fat cock like that.”
You focused on keeping your pace steady, and Leon was mindful of it too. You started getting sloppier, however, and laxed your throat as he went all the way in again with your nose tapping his pelvis and Leon’s began to tremble through gritted teeth, “S-shit, boutta cum, baby. I’m gonna fuckin-“
His hips jerked up and his other hand came down to meet your head, two hands guiding you up and down now as you had to place both of your hands on each thigh for leverage as he started fucking your throat with just enough pressure to make you gag on him a couple times. Leon snarled, “S-shit, shit, shit. Oh shit!”
Leon felt his release nearing with every convulsion of your throat, but he didn’t want that - not yet. He rocked into your mouth for one last time and then cupped both of your cheeks to force you to stop regardless of how keen you were, straightening you as he leaned forward and rasped, “C’mere, baby. Fuckin’ come here to Daddy.”
Leon was over the moon, seeing your teary eyes and the bubbles of saliva trickling down your lips and chin after sucking his fat cock like that. He crashed his mouth on you, pulling you in for one sloppy kiss assisted by his tongue and devoured every moan that escaped from your lips. He licked into your mouth and sucked on your tongue slightly before making out with again, passionately, letting you know how good you had been for him.
“Oh God,” he chuckled warmly against your lips. “So proud of you, baby.” He stroked your cheek and continued, croaking while smiling, “Daddy needs to fuck you. You’re gonna let him fuck you, won’t you, baby?” You nodded with big glossy eyes, smiling shyly and you heard Leon groan in response, because he was at the end of his rope – he needed to be inside you now. Visibly labored, he repeated with a hissing breath, “Such a good girl for me. Yeah, need to fuck you so badly, angel. Come lay down.”
As if enthralled, his eyes adored every move you made. Leon kept his hands on your hips, guiding you to rest on the bedding. Your cheeks were tinged with pink; it might have been the shining sun, but in truth, you flushed because of how Leon was so clearly mesmerized by you. You couldn’t stop biting your bottom lip and smiling at him, and Leon thought you were incredibly adorable. He absolutely loved it when you’d get like this – when you’d look like his good girl, ready for him and be happy that you were with your Daddy. He smiled at you too, so when your back finally hit the pliant surface, you affixed your thumb webs under each knee and spread yourself wide open for him as your toes were in the air which made him shake his head and mutter something under his breath.
He crawled over you, slowly, and scanned you up and down, in stupefaction, of how exposed you were – his sweet girl with her wet core showcased like he loved it. “Shit,” he chuckled deeply, coming to be on top of you with his arms fully extended and both hands on each side next to your head, caging you in. Then he smirked and cocked an eyebrow, saying, “Someone’s ready for Daddy, huh.”
“Yeah,” you answered cutely; your deference was clear to Leon because your eyes wouldn’t stir from his light blue ones – you looked up at him as if he was your north star.
“Yeah,” he purred, echoing you and nodded, leaning down to brush his lips against you and marveled at you as well, “Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you now, sweet angel.” His breath fanned against your face as Leon booped your beak with his nose which made both of laugh. And with that, he took his cock while staring at you intensely and started playing with the tip of his dick along your folds which made you whimper. You could hear him gasp, when he slicked his cock along your soaked folds, and then slapped it against your clit which made you slightly jolt in return.
He gave you a smooch on the cheek and stayed put, whispering, “Mmm, you want your Daddy inside of you, baby?”
All you could do is nod, not that Leon held it against you. No, he adored it when you were pandering to him. Even though you weren’t vocal about it, it was evident that you were just as desperate, but this time, he needed you to answer him. He withdrew a bit to murmur against your lips, “Well, God gave you such a pretty mouth. Won’t you answer me then. hm?”
You swallowed – hard: the insides of your mouth beyond dry now of how much had burned up. You answered softly, “N-need Daddy inside of me, please.”
“Good girl,” he chuckled breathlessly, and thwacked his fat cock against your bundles of nerves over and over again which made you squeak and your hips twitch slightly. “That’s fuckin’ right. Your pretty little pussy’s just begging for Daddy’s fat cock, isn’t she?”
You swore Leon’s words intoxicated you. You had no idea whether he had learned that through his years of experience or if it was just his fashion - or both - but each time, it felt as though you got bewitched by him, which worsened as his heavy cock kept spanking your slit. He stopped and then kissed you slowly, taking his cock to level your soaked entrance. His tip slid inside of you, and you whimpered into the kiss. He started poking his dick into you, not going further than his mushroom meeting your walls, and rasped, “How badly do you need me, baby?”
“I need you so badly, please,” you whined, mustering the cutest look you could so he’d give in as you continued, “Please I need you.”
“F-fuck,” he moaned, gliding in further now. “Need you too, baby, so much.”
You scrunched your eyebrows together as you felt him stretch you, it stung a bit – it always would. You could never quite get used to his thickness and length, that’s why he would always start off slowly with you. And as if he was reading your mind, he asked softly, “You okay, baby? Daddy’s not hurtin’ you, right?”
You shook your head and kept your legs parted open for him as his cock made its way inside of you, brimming your velvety walls, already half-way there - the part where you always felt it the most, simultaneously the moment where he kissed you most of the time. Leon feathered his lips on you, bestowing you with a couple of sweet pecks, whispering, “So, so good. Shhh, there you go, sweetheart. I’m almost there.”
And when he finally bottomed out, both of you moaned and smiled in sync, shuddering a bit as well as you conjoined. Leon felt it – how wet and warm you were, how right you were for him. So, he started backing his hips until it was nothing but his tip that soddened and then pushed in carefully again to let you adapt. He continued doing that for as long as needed and wouldn’t go faster until he felt you relax. “Fuck me,” he croaked, huffing. “She’s hugging Daddy tight, perfect fuckin’ pussy.”
He started kissing your neck when he felt you unclench. He dragged his cock in and out and began to work you at a steady pace. His hands fleeted to where you held yourself apart for him, nudging you a bit so he could be the one to grip your instead. Your hands, however, didn’t move from that position, instead, you covered his gently as he was the one to keep you nice and spread now. He let his weight pivot just so he could anchor your knees against the bedding, which allowed him a full free-range of motion. “Gonna’-f-fuck- gonna go deep, baby. Need to feel all of you.”
He kept a mastered pace, his teeth sinking into your skin ever so softly to mark you as he knocked his tip to your hilt, coaxing several loud whimpers from you, “O-Oh God, f-feels so good, Daddy.”
“Yeah?” he rasped, fucking you gradually as he let his tongue slide along your pulse. “Mmm, Daddy knows best, isn’t that right, baby?”
“Y-yes.”
Your hands switched to his nape now, cradling him as he filled you up non-stop. In all honesty, you two might end up with a sunburn after this, but it was as though both of you completely forgot that you were out in the scorching sun, the heat only heaping onto the enraptured tension that left both of you breathless. Nothing broke the quiet summer air, but Leon’s labored gusts mixed in with your soft mewls that were accompanied by the soft slapping of his hips against yours with his balls hitting your behind. Leon kept thrusting into you as he lowered his mouth to your chest, nibbling and biting along until he reached your left breast, skillfully circling his tongue around your nipple and began to suck it into his mouth.
You faded beneath him; it was as though Leon was multitasking – stimulating you in so many ways you were left with no other choice but to take what he was giving you. “Oh my God,” you moaned, your back arching successfully to press your chest into Leon so he could gain more access to your breasts. His face got a bit squished as you heaved, which was followed by a low moan from him. He slopped his tongue around your breast, coating it with his spit and then focused on the other one, letting as much soft fat disappear as possible as he curved into you, regulated and composed. His muffled grunts fell death on your ears when he used all of his mass to hinge you sharply into the bedding as your lower back lifted off the surface a bit, hitting your spot excruciatingly calculated.
“Daddy!” you squeaked when Leon started to dig into you - secured by the balls of his feet on the lounge so he wouldn’t slip away. His hips slammed into you, but not fast, they came to hit you metronomically. However, they were extremely intense which made you see stars.
“Y-yeah,” he grunted muffled, sucking your breast, huffing and puffing, “Take it, sweetheart. F-fuckin’ take that shit for your Daddy.”
It was almost suffocating how deep he was and how he was able to focus on your sensitive nipple as if he wasn’t thudding into you like clockwork. Your soaked pussy gushed every time he rutted into you, and Leon felt you tightening your walls around him even more which almost made him snap. He noticed that you were well underway to come, so he slowed down, left your breast and, instead, crashed his mouth on you, eating your whimpers as he made out with you.
He nestled his entire body on you, nudging into you so gently it couldn’t even be considered thrusting anymore. While his lips deprived you of breath, his cock was marking you from the inside, leaving anything else inside your mind blurred – a tunnel narrowed down to the one inside of you. Leon whispered against you ever so tenderly, “Who do you belong to, sweetheart?”
“I belong to you,” you answered meekly, one hand that wasn’t holding him by the nape, slithered down do his manly chest where his heart was.
“And who am I to you?” he asked, mirroring the tone of his voice – quiet, but raw. He then guided your hand down to your clit, conveying to you that you were to play with you bundle of nerves. When you started flicking, he nodded and smiled.
“You’re….,” you exhaled, focus slightly faltering, “…...You’re my man. The one I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
He took both of his hands now, formerly guiding you and fasted under your knee, and cupped both of your cheeks now, with no room for you to look anywhere else. Then he rasped, “And what’s my name, baby?”
You had to think there for a second, because it was unusual for him to ask you to call him by his real name. As known, you were rarely allowed to call him Leon, so you half-answered, half-questioned, “Daddy?”
He had to chuckle at that and gave you a peck, “My real name, sweetheart.”
“Oh,” you exhaled and then returned the energy, laughing with him. “Leon, your name is Leon.”
“That’s right,” he smiled. “And what’s my last name?”
So, you answered him, and Leon started to haul his big dick out and inserted himself inside of you again, while you were rubbing your clit. Feverish – that’s what you could have called it because his baby blues flamed yours, melting you.
“Good girl,” he croaked, continuing gliding into you until his balls rested flat repeatedly and then urged you with: “Now say my full name.”
You were slightly confused, but as if tranced, you moaned, “L-Leon Kennedy.”
“That’s right,” he whispered, his eyes unflinching; they kept boring into you. “Go faster, baby. Play with your pretty clit and repeat my name.”
You did as you were told. Leon was in the same boat as you - flesh-to-flesh - it was as if both of you fused in the physical realm. You repeated his name – barely – and his grip on your cheeks tightened, his face inching closer until his forehead met yours, rasping, “Don’t ever forget that name. That’s your Daddy right there, baby. Me, the man you feel deep inside of you.”
He smooched you, but he kept his eyes open. Then he created some distance to get a full view of you. He saw that your pupils were blown wide and he started smirking, shaking his head. “Not a single thought in that pretty little head of yours right now…… It’s only me. It’s only your Daddy.” He tiled his head, analyzing you thoroughly while he kept harnessing you with his cock. Then he continued smoothly, “Isn’t that right? It’s only me, Leon. Your Daddy.”
You could do nothing. You couldn’t even nod. Everything was too much. His name echoed inside your head like a mantra.
Leon Kennedy, Leon Kennedy, Leon Kennedy-
His recurring name crossed with his words he muttered raggedly, resonating in your brain you at once: “That’s the only man and person you’ll ever need in your entire life again, sweetheart.”
On cue, as if automated, your fingers sped up around your clit and that’s when he saw your eyes roll back and your jaw go full-on slack. “There she is,” he smiled satisfied, seeing you zone out. “My pretty girl is only thinking about her Daddy now. Good fuckin’ girl.” His inner urge to take ownership over your psyche obsessed him immensely, hence why he started picking up on his pace a bit, thrusting into you controlled. His hips didn’t need to come meet you anymore, he tipped in just enough, the squelching becoming louder as he felt you soaking up fat cock even more.
Your eyes met the entire time.
A lot of pressure built up in your lower abdomen and you started panting. Leon knew, he wanted to finish you off now. He ended any lingering thought inside your mind with one last question, kept holding your head so you were forced to face him as if he wanted to brand himself into you, “Mmm, now tell me who you love. A full sentence, baby.”
You breathed heavily, your lungs tightening into a vacuum. You tried snapping out of it but couldn’t. With the little energy that was left within you, you stuttered, sealing the sentiment with, “I … I love you, Leon. I love you, Daddy.”
And as soon as you answered it, something inside of you clicked – your release was imminent. However, it felt incredibly different. With every strong wave of his pelvis, you felt as though you were about to emit a lot of fluid – your dam was about to break. That’s why you stopped rubbing your clit – you were put on the spot by Leon. He, however, wouldn’t let you live it down. He took notice of it immediately and shot his hand to your bundle of nerves, sloppily rubbing it and your entire body trembled in response, drawing out several squeaks and yelps.
“I know, baby. I know. Just let go,” he groaned, rutting into you now and fucked you fast. “Love on your Daddy, sweetheart. Squeeze him tight. There we go, there we fuckin’ go.”
He hinged his fingers under jaw – you had no choice but to keep staring at him. You weren’t there mentally, and yet, you were extremely embarrassed. Leon started ramming into you and you started to cry; you were so close your velvety walls gripped his cock now. He started grunting and met your forehead against, his hot breath against and croaked, “That’s right, cry for me, sweetheart. Cry for your Daddy. Every tear’s just for me. F-fuck… baby. Soak my big fat cock, c’mon.”
With one last yelp you broke internally, and you got elated into letting go. Leon sensed your climax. He didn’t want his girl to feel awkward, so he crashed his mouth into you, kept slamming into you and chased his own release. The fluid escaped down onto the bedding; you couldn’t process what was happening to you, but you did flush with shame. On the other hand, the pleasure captivated you and enfolded you. Leon wouldn’t let up on you; he kept playing with your clit with your squirt splashing around because of his hand and cock and made you feel all of it – you couldn’t stop quivering with your toes curling. His thrusts started stuttering, he was about to climax as well, and whined, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Daddy’s about to cum, too, angel. Fuck!”
He sealed his mouth on you again, then – finally - mixed his cum with your water, emptying himself inside of you, shooting ropes accompanied with robust thuds coming against you. Leon grunted into the kisses each time his tip reached the brim: His mind drifted off – flesh to flesh – synapses of his brain linked with yours and both of you couldn’t break free. You kept quaking under his maneuvers. Coming inside of you felt so good for Leon that he kept moaning on you uncontrollably. After a while, he halted his movements, deciding to show mercy on you now and smiled at you. He treasured you by caressing your cheeks that were so evidently warm. You both breathed heavily, coming together as one as he said, “Hey, pretty girl. You okay?”
You shook your head. You kind of hated this. All of it came crashing down on you and you tried hiding your face, because for the very first time he made you squirt and it was highly uncomfortable. He saw you move your hands, but he nudged them away with his elbows and kept his hold you, whispering, “Hey, hey, hey. No, sweetheart. Look at me. Don’t be embarrassed.”
You tried again with your palms giving cover, and this time he let you, because he partially understood. He let his hands rest next to each side of your head to give you space, but looked at you fondly, even though your hands hindered Leon from seeing your beautiful face.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about it, baby,” he reasoned again, gently. “Hey…. look at me.”
But you didn’t.
You needed a couple of minutes. Sex with Leon was always intense, no question about it (especially since having it in his vacation house). But this, this had felt otherworldly. It was as though he had scooped your brain and left it full-on empty. You weren’t you anymore, somehow. He was in there…. in your bloodstream; not even a toxicologist with a syringe could infuse a cure to fix it.
He was still inside of you, and you didn’t even want to look at Leon. Which was crazy to believe since he was your everything. At first, you were incredibly playful as always as you did everything in your power so Leon would finally concede and give you what you wanted.
Well, he did. But this time…... This time he truly made you feel your choice. This wasn’t just love making, on a psychological level, he intended to make himself unforgettable – and took it up a notch this time. It wasn’t feasible for you yet, but something in you changed just a couple of minutes ago.
“Sweetheart,” he cooed, beckoning to shift your focus back onto him. “Hey, can you please look at me?”
You peeked through your hands, and he snorted out a chuckle. Then you heard him console you, “I understand that you’re embarrassed, but you don’t need to be, baby. It’s normal.”
But it didn’t change how you felt.
“It is embarrassing,” you countered quietly which only made Leon chuckle again. It warmed his heart to see you shy like this. He truly believed that you didn’t need to be ashamed, though. After all, it was – as he described – a normal bodily reaction to intense stimulation.
“No, it isn’t, baby,” he soothed you, and shot his first attempt to get rid of one by caressing one, pulling your hand away carefully. When he saw that you didn’t resist him, the other one followed and he was finally able to see you again. “It felt good, right?”
You shrugged your shoulders timidly, which indicated that it was a yes, but he needed you to affirm it. He stroked your left cheek and tried again, “It felt good?”
You nodded and whispered, “Yeah.”
“Alright,” he breathed out, slightly relieved having believed that he was going to be proven wrong. “It was just…. intense, yeah? ‘s that it?”
“Yes,” you agreed with a stable tone. “It was intense.”
“Right,” he smiled and nodded. “That’s why you don’t need to get all shy on me, alright, sweetheart? I love you.” He observed you biting your bottom lip so he leaned down and asked gently, “Can I kiss you?”
You smiled shyly and nodded. “Yes.”
“Good,” he exhaled and returned your smile. He kissed you softly, then peppered your lips over and over again which made you giggle. “There’s my sweet girl. I love it when you laugh.”
“And I love you,” you proposed, beaming. You cupped his cheeks and pulled him in for more kisses. Leon extended his arm to the backrest where your towel was – the one you intended to use to dry off after the pool. He tapped the wet area on the couch and then where both of you still joined together. You broke the kiss and watched him clean both of you up.
“It’s okay, see?” Leon reasoned gently, not wanting you to feel ashamed.
“Yeah,” you snorted out a giggle. “I made a bit of a mess.”
“A bit, yeah,” he laughed warmly. “But that’s okay. As long as it felt good, hm?”
You nodded and smiled, then continued, “Yeah, it did feel good.”
“That’s what I am here for,” he explained softly, still occupied with cleaning both of you up and was glad that you confirmed it once again. “To make my angel feel good and take care of her.”
You raised an eyebrow when Leon stopped. It seemed as though he wanted to say something but heavily debated whether he should. So, you asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” he laughed awkwardly. “Is it weird of me to say that I liked it?”
“What?”
“Seeing you squirt,” he smirked and then winked at you.
“Oh my God,” you laughed, about to hide your face again, but Leon stopped you.
“It’s hot, baby,” he chuckled, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “I mean it.”
“I don’t want that to happen ever again,” you sighed, looking at him shyly.
“No?” He cocked an eyebrow. “Why’s that, sweetheart?”
“I just hate that it’s…. it’s….,” you exhaled. “So much fluid.”
“That’s the best part,” he purred, looking you up and down. “Baby’s makin a mess… just for me.”
You rolled your eyes. “Of course you would say that.”
“Like it’s a bad thing.” He draped the towel back on the headrest. Mind you, he still didn’t pull out. “I know, I know,” and then mimicked you, “Daddy’s a pervert,” and then used his voice again, “But I know you love it, baby. Wouldn’t mind tasting you on my tongue this time,” he winked again.
“As if that’s gonna work,” you snorted, in disbelief.
“Oh, so you’re saying you’re up for that challenge?” he poked at you playfully, leaning in as close as possible. “You know your Daddy doesn’t like to lose, sweetheart.”
“Well, I guess we’ll just have to see, then,” you countered confidently.
“Oh, baby,” he chuckled darkly, tugging your strands behind your ear. “Daddy’s gonna be swimming soon and it won’t be in his pool.”
“Ew,” you laughed, which Leon returned. Of course he had to say that.
“What?” he chuckled cockily. “Don’t laugh. I mean it, baby. Daddy means every fuckin’ word that comes out of his mouth, you know that.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re delicious,” he purred, just about to kiss you, but then you both heard someone exclaim: “We’re back!”
Oh oh.
Luckily for both of you lovebirds, you didn’t get caught. Leon immediately pulled out and slipped back his briefs over his naked nether regions, helping you with your teeny bikini. You took your laptop onto your lap and both of you pretended that Leon was helping you with your paper. Yeah, sure…. Help with your …. assignment. Not that you would mind having a hot tutor like Leon. Can you imagine?
In fact, if we were to pretend the following, you would strive to complete your homework the best you could. No? Maybe he’d give a little reward every time you’d do them right. And because of that, you’d finish them in no time, right? How we know that? Exempt a) what just happened on that long couch (We’ll just ignore that he tried distracting you from your responsibilities instead of providing support).
But yeah, obviously, he helped you with something else, for that matter, but neither Michael nor Ashley nor your mother truly had to know.
All three urged both of you to help them with making tonight’s dinner. Your mother had the brilliant idea of making burgers, and to make the buns herself. But she needed assistance, therefore she called both of you into the kitchen. You came right away, and well Leon. He…. Made the excuse of being old at moment’s notice and that he needed to have ten minutes to himself. His age did come in handy in situations like these for the perfect hoax, given that he had the stamina, strength and energy of a young adolescent. Why? He told you not to give him another kiss for a very specific reason: the tent in his briefs would give him away, wouldn’t stop either and he couldn’t let anyone know that, so he kept himself seated on the bedding for the meantime while you were already laughing and preparing the buns with your mother, while Michael and Ashley were cutting up the vegetables. Only Leon was missing cutting up the potatoes for some wedges.
Well, he was a man of his word regardless.
When Leon’s horse cock finally went to sleep, that’s when he got up and joined all of you.
The evening you all spent together was perfect. When the Commander came – eight on the dot as promised - everyone greeted him warmly as if he was a part of the family. The sun set beautifully, the brush from above painting a John Constable sky in shades pink, orange, and yellow. Everyone was either bursting out laughing or engaged in warm tapestries of conversation. But your eyes were fixed on your Daddy who stood by the grill, too stern for his own good, and acted as if it was the most important task of today like a general to oversee his rookies (= the patties). Then your eyes drifted down his feet, and you did your absolute best not to crack up. He had flip-flops on, the stereotype of an older man who was a father perfected to a T, hence why you almost snorted out your coke through your nose which caught Leon’s attention because he feared something was wrong with you, but when he saw you looking at his feet he knew.
He started wiggling his toes and that’s when you basically squirted out your beverage onto the table and everyone looked at you. “Sorry!”
That’s what you get, baby, Leon thought to himself while smirking.
The rest of the evening resumed, all of you ate together, there was an unspoken ease that only family could share. Michael and Ashley sat next to each other, as did your mother and the Commander, only you and Leon stood by the grill, watching the burning coals. Then Leon leaned in and whispered, “Have you ever gotten spanked with a spatula, baby?”
You furrowed your eyebrows and slapped his chest, giggling, “Oh my God, you can’t be serious.”
“Oh, but I am, baby,” he teased, and got closer to your ear as he continued, “Need to get back at my sweet girl for laughing at Daddy’s flip-flops.”
─── making out with older boyfriend .ᐟ LEON KENNEDY in his porsche. lids blink heavy with exhaustion and dark circles paint his under his eyes violet— creases and fine lines of aging lie on his forehead, down his face and when leans into you, dirty blonde strands of hair fall into his icy blue eyes.
─── older boyfriend .ᐟ LEON KENNEDY whose scruffy beard prickles your skin when his lips collide with yours, gloved hand around your flushed cheeks, sensitive from the cold weather, squishing them. it’s almost midnight when you plop into the seat of his car; but you can’t breathe when he’s finally next to you after three long weeks, so you crash into him, shaky arms throwing themselves around his neck, fingers tangled around the lengths of his blonde hair. he doesn’t pull away from you.
─── older boyfriend .ᐟ LEON KENNEDY who tastes weakly of alcohol when you kiss him and moan softly against his mouth. it’s whiskey from a hip flask, a small sip or two. you despise it. but you can’t fix it. there’s nothing you can change about this or him; at the age of forty nine, leon’s heart beats wounded with pain, but the least you can do is make his life less miserable.
─── older boyfriend .ᐟ LEON KENNEDY who keeps his eyes open when he kisses you. his tongue pushes past your plump lips and he almost shoves it down your throat; he’s lost himself completely the moment you pulled the door handle— one hand moves carefully down your chin and for a while it does not move, but you feel his glove slide down your neck and his fingers rest just near a jugular, steadily— you’re alive and he feels relieved to see you in his car, with your heart pulsating inside your chest, faster the more he touches you— as if he wasn’t the one working on cases left and right for the dso.
─── older boyfriend .ᐟ LEON KENNEDY who bites down the leather of his gloves, pulling up and throwing them away in the back seat of his car. leon never looks away and you watch him, from the moment he reveals the scars on his rough hands, to the instant he pushes a thumb softly on your lower lip, “missed me, haven’t you, sweet girl?” — you nod, his thumb against your tongue, his other hand between your legs, index finger massaging your inner thighs. you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
thanks for reading <3 interactions and reblogs are super appreciated ! mwuah 🤍
This expansion will play out from his point of view and will center a plot in which Sol must not only defeat his new enemies, allied forces of RDA and Mangkwan, but rescue his Sarentu family from their clutches.
VARANG WILLS Quaritch's arm to release her ----- his HAND OPENS and he drops his knife.
VARANG'S EYES seem to fill Quaritch's vision ----- he is SLAMMED TO HIS KNEES.
HE MEETS HER EYES.
Grips his KURU. RIPS IT FREE. He collapses, GLARING up at her.
VARANG takes Quaritch's hand, touching the extra finger.
VARANG
-You are strong, sky man.
(a feral grin)
-I will enjoy eating your heart.
friendly reminder that characters don't need to be saints to be entertaining. and telling a story does not mean endorsement. art does not need to be all about morally good people.
Summary: Miguel tries to convince himself that his obsession with you was justified, but fails miserably as you spend the night over.
Pairing: Miguel O’hara x spider-woman!reader
18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Inexperienced reader. Breeding kink. Sexual tension and frustration. Reader has nipple piercings.
Previous parts: 1 & 2 (you may enjoy this one separately, but might miss out on some context)
Miguel tried to convince himself that adding a mic to your digital suit was purely for safety purposes.
He really did try.
But he couldn’t keep from listening in when you first wore it on your way to the spider cafeteria.
He had just briefed a squad and was monitoring Nueva York through a multitude of hovering screens, as he stood on his platform.
Tapping quickly on the flickering surface, he was able to zoom in on you through the ceiling cameras.
You looked absolutely breathtaking.
The suit fit you like a glove and left little to the imagination. He was proud of his work. You deserved wearing something of his for everyone to see.
He saw you approaching a nearby table, taking a seat. In front of you were Jessica Drew and Peter B. Parker with Mayday who greeted you with warm smiles.
The sound of your voice echoed through the walls around him, as you extended your arms.
“Mayday! Baby! It’s so good to see you!”
The little girl broke into a giggle and began wriggling forward on Peter’s lap to reach you.
You promptly took her in your arms. “Did you miss me? Did you?” your voice was slight high-pitched and you wiggled your fingers, tickling her. “Oh, I have a present for her.”
“Really? That’s so nice of you,” Peter beamed.
“I don’t have it here, but I think she’ll love it,” you said, patting Mayday’s back lightly, earning a genuine hug from her.
Miguel felt his heart clench violently.
You were a natural with kids.
You were just too good to be true and he felt his hands clench tightly.
Would he ever be able to have you? To make you yearn for him? To breed you? To have children with you?
“Wait, is that a… digital suit?” Jessica’s voice cracked through the mic.
You had your back turned to him, so he couldn’t see your face, but he felt the warmth in your voice as you spoke, “It sure is!”
He groaned lowly.
There you were… his sweet girl.
“Who gave it to you?”
“Miguel,” you said with that tenderness he had grown to adore.
He could easily get addicted to you saying his name, and he could only hope that, one day, he might hear it a much more compelling setting.
“Miguel… O’hara?”
You nodded.
From the screen he could see her exchanging looks with Peter.
“It looks really cool!” Peter smiled enthusiastically, inspecting your sleeves. “Wish he’d offer me one, too.”
Jessica chuckled. “Well, I’ve been here with him for months and he’s never given me one.”
Jessica…
It was to be expected. She was no fool. He had scouted her precisely because she was anything but that.
You had been recruited only three weeks ago, but the hold you had on him was tight. He had never felt this way before with someone else.
You straightened in your seat, as Mayday nibbled on your thumb. “Wait… do you think I should give it back?”
Miguel felt his heart jumpstart and panic build inside him.
“No — no! Jessica,” Perer shot her a glare who merely shrugged, before offering you a kind smile. “It looks great on you. Did you pick the colours?”
“Yes! I’m really happy with the final result,” you said, helping Mayday sit at the edge of the table, as you secured her with both hands. “It was his way of showing gratitute.”
Jessica snapped her fingers after taking a sip of her drink. “You’re helping him out with the portals, right?”
“We’re working on portal stabilisation and reduced motion sickness,” you said and he could almost taste the pride and passion in your voice. “We’re making some progress.”
Miguel had gotten used to the random erections you’d awake from him throughout the day. But this one felt particularly painful.
You were so smart and so devoted. He couldn’t even take credit for the progress, because it was mostly just you.
His sweet and clever girl.
He glanced down at the outline of his strained cock, clicking his tongue.
By the time his eyes settled on the monitor, Jessica had walked away momentarily and he saw Peter lean in.
“Hey… are you and Miguel… a thing?”
Miguel froze.
Mayday proceeded to wrap tiny fingers around some of his locks, tugging lightly.
He wish he could have seen your reaction.
“Oh! No! No… we’re just friends,” you quickly said, waving your hands rapidly. “He’s like a mentor to me, really.”
Anger flared inside him. A friend? A mentor? He knew deep down this made absolute sense, but it still made him seething with rage.
Peter didn’t seem all that convinced, but nodded. “Just wondering. He’s not usually this… kind?”
Miguel felt his fangs threaten to emerge as he gritted his teeth.
There had been nothing kind about him building you a suit. He hadn’t done it out of the goodness of his heart.
He wanted to claim you and this had been the easiest and safest way for now.
“Well, I know he’s a grumpy,” you chuckled with a shrug, as you patted Mayday on the back. “Maybe he’s changing?”
You wouldn’t want him to change. Not really. The level of devotion he had for you was unmatched and nothing you could ever have from someone else.
“Maybe you’re a good influence on him?” Peter concluded, tapping his chin. “As a friend, of course.”
“Peter….” he growled lowly.
“As a friend,” you nodded. “Besides, there’s…” but your voice trailed off.
His erection nearly immediately deflated as dread took over.
There’s what?
He turned up the mic’s volume, but winced instead, as you banged on the table.
You cleared your throat. “Well, gotta go! I have work to do.”
Peter took Mayday back into his lap and chuckled. “Don’t forget her present!”
“I won’t! Wish me luck, though,” you said, crossing your fingers as you started to walk away. “I really need these chips to stop blowing and melting on me!”
“Good luck! Say bye bye, Mayday,” Peter waved his hand, which the little girl promptly mimicked with a giggle.
“Bye, baby!” you beamed.
Miguel had had enough.
He switched off your mic with a tap on his watch.
He really had tried to convince himself that his obsession for you was justified. That is was rooted in more than lust and desire, but he wasn’t so sure anymore.
After you moved to Nueva York, he had you working closely to him on portal stabilisation.
But what had started out as something innocent, soon shifted into something else entirely.
Your company brought him peace and quiet, and ticket his brain just the right way to keep him motivated.
Until it didn’t.
Until you became his torment.
He had let you in his life in the hopes that you let him in yours.
The first time you gave him a boner was when he walked in on you in the lab, wearing nothing but a tank top and a pencil pressed firmly in between your lips, as you moved from screen to screen to check on the update progress.
The worst part? You didn’t even notice how utterly delicious you looked and how he could easily bend you over and take you right there.
No.
You just offered him a sweet smile.
One he hadn’t recovered from ever since.
“Miguel?”
He jolted as the voice snapped him from his torturous thoughts. “What?”
Lyla hovered nearby, eyeing him closely. “Fangs out,” she wiggled her index finger disapprovingly. “Pavitr and Hobie are waiting for you.”
His fangs retracted slowly as he tried to gain his composure back. “Why?”
“Mission?” she quirked an eyebrow.
Right.
“Now?”
“You’re already late.”
He growled, tapping on a few screens hurriedly.
“Oh, and Miguel?”
“What?”
The hologram popped near the screen to his left. “You might want to be more subtle when using her in-suit mic.”
He gave her narrow side-glace. “What do you mean?”
“Just saying,” she said, adjusting her heart-shapped glasses. “You’re not the only tech savvy spider here.”
The door to his apartment swung open at once, and he stepped inside ready to decompress from the tiresome mission.
He had made plans with some of your audio recordings and his hand, hoping that would be enough to easy the pent-up tension that had been looming over year throughout the way.
It was a less than ideal situation, but would have to do for now.
That was until he noticed his living room was lit.
Pacing rapidly he was met with you.
In the middle of a pile of papers and electronic components scattered around the floor, he saw you sitting cross-legged with a pencil danging from your lips, his digital suit clinging tightly to your body.
“What are you doing here?”
Your bead snapped in his direction and the pencil tumbled to the floor. “Miguel! Lyla let me in.”
He was rooted in place.
Had it been someone else, he would have flung them through the window with no warning.
But you weren’t just someone.
And Lyla wouldn’t have let someone else enter his apartment, either.
“It’s quite late,” he said, pacing carefully toward you as not to step on anything. “You could have called me.”
You waved a hand dismissively and held a circular metallic object in the other. “Catch!”
Before he could say anything back, you had tossed it in his direction, which he quickly grabbed in between his fingers.
“Found what was wrong with it,” you smiled proudly. “It was stupid of me, really. There wasn’t any thermal paste in it. That’s why it kept blowing up.”
Miguel stared at the chip in his hand and blinked a few times.
“I assumed you were using it from the start,” he said, inspecting the cross section.
You rose to your feet in an instant and joined his site, excitement spilling from you. “These ion batteries should not require thermal paste — not for this amount of energy, at least. But yeah… my bad,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck.
Miguel locked eyes with yours and felt a familiar tingle in his body.
Fuck.
You were just so ridiculously attractive, and he wish he could hear you ramble about tech and science for hours.
“This is really, really good news,” he said genuinely, handing the chip back to you.
He squeezed your arm lightly as encouragement, knowing fully well he should be rewarding you in other ways.
His sweet girl…
You darted back to the floor, gathering some papers. “Sorry for the mess. I just had to figure this out and couldn’t sleep.”
A scientist at heart, you were.
Blood began to rush to his groin in no time. It couldn’t be helped. His body had been so on edge to finally fuck you, that it was in this permanent state of arousal around you.
“It’s fine. I still have those moments,” he said softly, crouching to help you out. “Sometimes I can’t sleep, and I have to do something else.”
“Like what?”
“I either go to the lab, or…” I jerk off to the thought of being buried deep inside you, he wanted to say.
You eyed him expectantly, biting your lip lightly, further hardening his cock.
“Well, it’s a bit late,” Miguel eventually said, standing tall. “Maybe you should get back to your apartment?”
He hated himself for even suggesting such option, but he didn’t want to push his luck. You being here would be fuel enough for the rest of the night as he fucked his hand.
“Oh, you just got back from a mission,” you fought back a yawn, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. “I’ll just leave.”
Miguel nodded, but was crumbling inside.
Your face lit up again. “But this was great, right?”
Please stay.
“You did great,” he said with a short smile. “Go get some rest.”
Please…
You made your way down the hall and waved at him. “See you in the morning, Miguel.”
He should have let you go.
But something took over him, before he could fight it back.
“Actually, you could stay. It’s nearly four in the morning,” he tried to sound as casual as possible, but the excitement was hard to contain. “And we have to head back to the lab early.”
You turned around and he stopped breathing.
Too much?
Then he the backpack slide down your arm, hittingbthe floor with a thud. “Oh, thank you! I really didn’t feel like swinging back to my apartment,” you voice held pure gratitude and he felt his ego soar. “Only… I don’t have any clothes.”
He shook his head as realisation hit him. “Right. Wait here.”
“Okay~”
Bolting into his room, he went through his closet, fetching a shirt and a robe.
But before heading out, he decided to change into some sweatpants and a shirt himself.
His erection welcomed the looser material, and he’d be able to better conceal it from you.
Taking a final look at his cock, Miguel decided to give it a few pumps as if trying to calm it down.
He couldn’t believe his luck.
He couldn’t believe his sweet girl would be so close to him in his clothes and apartment.
And bed.
As he exited the room and handed the clothes to you, he cleared his throat. “You can take my bed.”
You looked up at him. “Oh… no, Miguel. You just came back from a mission.”
“I’m not that tired. Just take it.”
Please.
“Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent.”
Anything that was his was yours. He would give it all to you.
“Be right back,” you said, before disappearing into the bathroom, closing the door behind you.
He immediately sighed in relief, adjusting his cock, feeling the first beads of precum spill from the tip.
How was he to survive this?
Not long after, you emerged again.
He glanced over at the length of you, taking in the sight of his shirt and robe on you. Your legs were still covered with the digital suit, but you looked absolutely ready to be devoured.
But he couldn’t do it.
Not yet.
His cock twitched in his pants, yearning to be inside you.
Then something else caught his attention when his moved up your body.
It couldn’t be…
Two symmetrical protuberances poked through the fabric of your shirt — his shirt.
“Are those…” his voice faltered momentarily, not trusting his own eyes.
You followd his line of sight and giggled. “Oh! Yeah. Got them pierced way back. Wanted to defy my dad and got them out of spite,” you went on, adjusting the fabric of the shirt under the robe. “But eventually kept them. They look cute.”
Cute?
Miguel was at a loss for words.
Your voice mixed with your carefree posture sent jolts directly into his cock.
“I…” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I didn’t notice them before,” he said, feeling his mouth run dry.
“I was wearing a bra,” you replied with a shrug and a tender smile.
This was almost comically painful.
You were the closest thing he had ever known to innocence as of late. Yet here you stood, wearing just his shirt, no bra, and with your pierced nipples poking through his shirt.
But none of that seemed to matter to you.
You were completely oblivious of how painfully hard he was for you.
“Did it hurt?”
“Terribly,” you said, still glacing down at your breasts and hardened nipples. “But I think it’s worth it.”
The adorable way in which you said it was almost driving him insane.
Just how innocent could one person be…
Before he could even process his thoughts, he spoke, “Can I…”
Your eyes met his and Miguel feared he had now fucked it up for good.
Brilliant, Miguel…
“Oh, you mean… you want to see them?”
Should he back down and just deny his intentions?
“You’ve never seen nipple piercings before?”
He shook his head.
Just as he was about to tell you to forget it, you lifted his shirt, revealing your breasts to him.
He nearly exploded right there and then.
“Oh, please!” she giggled. “We’re people of science, and you haven’t seen this before. Science is all about curiosity and discovery.”
Miguel, however, wasn’t listening to any of that and felt as though he was hypnotised. He could tear his eyes away from your perky nipples and the metal rods that went through them, a tiny spider danging from each of them.
He wasn’t sure when or how he had got so close to you, but he lifted his hand to touch one.
His cock twitched violently and he felt his mind hazy with lust.
“They’re cool, right?” you beamed, allowing him to swipe the pad of his thumb across the tiny spider.
“Yeah.”
Really ‘cool’.
More precum dripped from his tip and had to fight back his fangs from slipping out.
He wanted to bend over and dart his tongue out to play with them. He wanted to tug on them and wanted you to arch your back with a soft moan.
You pulled down the shirt again and he flinched his hand back instantly, swallowing hard.
“So… if — when you have a baby and want to breastfeed… will there be an issue?”
Of course his need to breed you had to surface at the worst possible time.
But he had to know. He needed to know if that would be a nuisance. He couldn’t take any risks and he wanted you completely ready to carry his children.
You shrugged, adjusting the robe around you. “I wasn’t thinking that far ahead when I got them, but I suppose I just have to take them out.”
He nodded, taking a few steps back.
You stretched out with a yawn. “Mind if I go to sleep now?”
“Of course,” he nodded.
You were about to whirl on your feet, but decided against it. “How do you say ‘thank you’ in Spanish?”
That caught him off guard and his eyes widened. “Gracias.”
Then you gave him the sweetest smile. “Gracias, Miguel.
He could cum just from this alone.
How he would teach you the filthiest things in Spanish… how he would whisper them in your ear, knowing fully well you couldn’t understand a word…
You then slipped into his room and closed the door.
He ran both hands through his hair, wanting to let out a scream.
The things he wanted to do to you…
The things you deserved done to you…
He brought one hand down to tug at his waistband, revealing his soaked cock.
Then he bit the back of his other hand.
Hard.
He didn’t even care if he drew blood.
He couldn’t take this anymore.
Engulfed with overwhelming frustration, he pressed his forehead against the tall window that overlooked Nueva York.
He had to calm down, or else he’d have to synthesise a serum to lower his levels of testosterone…
He had to find a way to stop.
As minutes ticked by, he decided to check your bio readings on his watch. Your heart rate had lowered significantly, indicating him you were now asleep.
The predator in him took control again and he paced towards his bedroom, opening the door just enough to check on you.
Fast asleep.
He walked in with careful steps, finally taking in the sight of you on his bed.
The floor-to-ceiling windows allowed for the faintest moonlight to be cast on you.
He felt his heart was about to implode as he drew near, slowly sitting by the edge of the mattress.
You lay on your back, breathing evenly and covered up to your waist with a blanket.
Miguel took a deep and shaky breath.
You smelled of him and his bedsheets smelled of you.
Such a powerful and dangerous combination, that he almost considered gripping his cock.
Bur decided against it.
Instead, he say there, staring at you, absorbing every single detail of your body.
His hand twitched as an itch took over it.
An itch he had to scratch.
He reached out to graze the back of one finger along your forearm, feeling your warmth coating his skin.
His sweet girl…
His imagination ran wild and he had hoped he could have fucked you to sleep, not sliding out of you, making sure you’d take his seed.
Pain swallowed him whole as despair settled.
What if he never managed to make you his?
What if you decided you wanted nothing more than a friendship?
How could he cope?
Suddenly, you flinched and rolled to your side and heaved a deep sigh. “Oh, Tom…”
Miguel was left petrified and his blood ran cold.
Who the fuck was Tom?
This fic got flagged with a community label just a few hours after it was posted. It’s now shadowbanned from the tags unIess users change their maturity settings (also consider reblogging that post so that more people are made aware).
I don’t usually ask this, but if you’ve enjoyed this part and want Part 4 soon, please consider leaving a like, reply, and/or reblog.
AN: Not a particularly spicy one, here’s some warnings; NSFW 18+ slight thigh riding, deception, reader doesn’t know who Valeria is
Kate Laswell's eyes never left mine as she presented the briefing to me, it was supposed to be easy. Undercover work was my forté, it was something I'd nearly perfected during my time in the military, and now I was practically Laswell's lap dog for these sorts of missions. "Do you have any questions?" She asked me after bombarding my brain with knowledge of who my character was.
At first thought, I didn't have any questions at all, but the more I delved deeper into the woman code-named, 'Serpent', all I could think about was what drove me. The motivation behind wanting to join El Sin Nombre and be in their cartel opposed to doing good. I couldn't just be someone who did it for nothing, "Kate, what's Serpent's motivation?" I asked her, my hands crossed on the desk before me as I picked at the bubblegum pink polish on my nails. "She can't just hate everything and everyone because she wants to,"
"See," Kate smiled softly as she approached the seat opposite mine at the conference table, her face replaced the sinister smiling photo of General Shepherd, "Her motivation, is sex,"
I spluttered, "What?"
"You heard me," She replied with a smirk on her lips, "Why not? It'll be fun for you, and it'll be easier to get your way,"
I looked at the file in front of me, the one without a picture simply because El Sin Nombre didn't exist as far as we knew, "Ma'am, respectfully, have you lost your mind?" my voice was unsteady as I spoke, yet all I could think about was infiltrating the cartel as someone who was motivated by sex and sex alone. Not power, not money, but sex. To be desired.
Laswell's laugh was the last thing I expected to hear as the blush crept across my skin at the mere thought of trotting around like some prostitute, "Maybe, but it's the best way to get you in. You'll be a Bottle Girl, and when it comes to it, you'll find your way to Sin Nombre when he's most vulnerable," she trailed off.
"So, when I'm on top of him, I'll do what exactly? Kill him like Amy did in Gone Girl?" I couldn't even start to believe this, it was absurd. Kate Laswell expected me to go in there scantily clad and for me to sleep my way to El Sin Nombre? Jesus Christ, I needed a drink.
Kate's hands met mine from across the table, "You'll be fine, and besides, who said Sin Nombre's a man?" she said with a wink.
Deep down, aside from our work relationship, I had always been close to Laswell. She was the only woman who really understood what it was like to be gay in the military, although I was Bisexual myself, she understood how daunting it can be. Hell, I'd come out to her when I was drunk in her arms one night by accidentally telling her I wanted to marry her. Of course, Kate being Kate, she was more than loyal to her wife. And, that's how I found out she was married, too.
"Kate, you're going to owe me for this," I sighed, having finally given up to the idea of negotiating a different path for my character, "When I come back, there better be an invitation to your house so your wife can make me lasagne,"
She patted my clenched fists, "Of course," she stood up, her hand reached for the door behind her, "Don't have too much fun," she winked, as though I'd suddenly become the cartel's personal bitch ready to be used and abused by all the men there. This was really going to fucking suck, I just knew it.
---
The mask over my face concealed the person from me, though I didn't need eyes to know El Sin Nombre's personal Sicaria was a woman, come on, it was in the name. Her perfume invaded my senses as I sat rigid in the chair, waiting for her to either kill me or grant me entry. And yet, all I could think about was how attractive her perfume was, how strong it was as the scent wrapped around me warmly.
"Do you speak Spanish?" She asked me, her voice rasped. God, even her voice was attractive, "Little bird?" She followed up with the arbitrary nickname she'd decided to give me. I'd only seen a slither of her lean body as I was forced into the room in the dress that clung a bit too tight to me, but it was enough to make me realise this was not going to be easy.
With a sigh of defeat, I shook my head, "No," I replied, "I don't."
The click-clack sound her tongue made as it flicked across her teeth struck my ears violently at first, but soothed my nerves the more she did it; she was disappointed to say the least, and so was I. "Such a shame," she cooed as she walked around, her voice trailed behind her like a ghost. And, if I was able to, I'd trail behind her too just for another breath of that sweet, sweet perfume she wore. "You're too beautiful to not speak more than one language," she practically purred before her hands placed onto my shoulders.
I craned my neck at the contact, my blind eyes stared up at her as my lips parted softly, "They say the best way to learn a language is through something... but I can't remember what it is," I admitted. It was something I'd heard before, something Alejandro had told me the first time I'd met him months prior, sure, he'd meant it as a flirty thing, and I remember our nights together vividly, but I can't recall the saying.
"The best way to learn a language is through fucking," She finished the phrase, "I'm sure plenty of my men would love to lay their hands on my little bird," she said, and something rustled as she dug her hand into her pockets. The blade clicked into place, and she cut the zip-ties from my wrist before she allowed me to remove the blind-fold. My Little Bird.
The dim light was a welcome for my sore eyes, and it didn't take much time to adjust before I could see her clearly, see the pink polish on her nails which matched mine perfectly, "You like my nails?" I asked her, just to ease the very real fact that she could end my life in a fraction of a second if she so wanted to. I pulled my fingers into a fist to show her, and she took my hand in hers.
The Sicaria had much better nails, hers looked almost professional in how they were done, "They're cute," she said, almost as though she was disappointed mine weren't as polished as hers. The edges were asymmetrical, having done them myself with no sleep was obviously the crux of that mystery, "I'll do yours later," she propositioned.
I drew my eyebrows together, "Are they that bad?" I joked back.
"It looks like a child did them," she purred as she held my hand for a bit too long, "Anyway, I'm keeping you here, you might be of some use to me," she smiled, "At least, more use than the person before you, hm?" she stepped to the side and tilted her head towards the corpse behind her. Such disregard for the dead, it was almost impressive.
What should have been scary, only managed to cause my smile to widen, "I like you," A pause finished my sentence, she hadn't even introduced herself to me, I had no clue what her name was, though she knew mine, that had been the one thing she'd requested when I first met her.
"Valeria," She said, her accent came through as she spoke her own name, and how badly I wanted to say it, to repeat her name as though it was the most prised gem I'd ever come across, as though it would bleed life back into me just to say it.
Instead, I nodded, "Nice to meet you," I said as I stood up, "I guess I'll see you around?" I asked in the most nonchalant way considering she executed three people in the room before she met me, as though I wasn't scared of her. But, let's get this straight, I was terrified of her. In a way that made me excited to make my next move, I was scared.
Valeria, who's name somehow caused flutters to erupt from my heart and into my stomach, smirked at me, "I'll see you around, pájarita," she cooed before she dismissed me into the dark hallway where her other counterpart was. He was the opposite of her. Whilst he looked scary, he also looked like a dad with his bald head, goatee and slight pouch of stomach fat. In fact, he looked like my dad, in a weird way.
"Where too now, hermano?" I asked him, my palms slick with sweat as I walked down the hallway and towards the elevator I had descended in prior to my meeting with El Sin Nombre's personal Sicaria. She was beautiful. God, was I getting a crush on a woman who could easily kill me if she found out I was actually here for her boss? Who the fuck knows.
He pressed the up button, "We're going to the balcony, where you'll serve our guests," he didn't even bother to turn and face me, "I take it you know how to serve champagne?" he asked.
I laughed, "I'm not as stupid as I look," I remarked, though it was in bad taste. I didn't look stupid, because I wasn't. Sure, some subjects I was less academic in, but I was world smart, and that's all that matters in this line of work. No one cares if you can do math, or balance chemical formulas, as long as you know how to get what you want, you'll be unstoppable.
And I planned on exactly that.
---
When I had served at least twenty guests, and when the tray of complimentary Champagne was finished, I decided to wander. Not my smartest idea, I'll give you that, but I was bored. Laswell wanted me to gain intelligence before Soap decided to join the party, and I intended to do just that. No matter what, the mission always came first. What's the worst that could happen, right?
I walked through the stairwell, my eyes trained on the grand piano beneath the spiralled staircase, and all I wanted to do was sit down and play it. Of course, I didn't know how to play piano, but at least I'd have fun playing random notes until one of the guards kicked me out, that would be worth it.
Instead, I carried on my wandering, and made my way deeper into the fortress the Cartel called home. Hell, I was not disappointed. It was so lavish, the sculptures and the food looked so good. If I wasn't trying to squeeze into this dress already, I'd stuff my face with all the food imaginable.
As I continued on my journey, I stumbled upon a supply cupboard full of... cleaning supplies. How very boring. Bleach, bleach, more bleach, a mop, some candles, and then I saw it. The bracelet on the floor looked oddly familiar. It wasn't mine, of course. But it was Valeria's. Wherever she was now, I'd give it to her. But I didn't know where she was, and the compound was far too massive for me to want to give it to her, so I just placed it on a shelf.
And, as I opened the door, someone on the outside opened it. I tumbled forwards, my body unsteady in the dangerously high heels, and then she caught me, and lead me further into the supply cupboard. Past the shelves and the mops, past the sink (that I didn't even notice) and finally into the darkness.
"Fancy seeing you here," I said.
"You can't be seen in here," she said at the same time, her body pressed against mine as mine was flush to the wall. Her eyes never met mine as she kept a close eye on the door.
I cocked my head to the side, "Why not?" I asked her, curious as to why I, a member of their staff, couldn't be seen in a supply cupboard. It's just full of cleaning products, not like I'm going to make a bomb or anything.
She laughed a deep chuckle, one that made my knees weak, "You don't get it," she said patronisingly, "El Sin Nombre doesn't like when his girls go for walks," she purred, still pressed into me. Her thigh was pressing into my heat, and I had to restrain myself because God, she smelled so good and she was driving me crazy being this close.
"Well, what are you doing here, then?" I asked.
She knitted her brows together, "I'm hiding," she lied.
"From who?" I replied, only now at the realisation that my arm was wrapped around her.
Valeria moved her leg, the thigh painfully rutted against my core, "From El Sin Nombre," she said.
"And, what if you're El Sin Nombre?" I joked. She was in no way, shape, or form El Sin Nombre. No one knew who he was, and he was most definitely a he going of the name, surely it would be pronounced differently if Sin Nombre was a female? But that's going off my shit knowledge of Spanish. "What am I supposed to do then?"
She smirked, and withdrew slightly so that she wouldn't crush me, "I'd tie you up and show you how merciless I can be," her voice husked as she spoke through lust clouded eyes, and I was a goner. I knew that much. A Sicaria, a professional hit-woman, gaining a liking to me was not something I wanted to tell Laswell, or Soap, or anyone else who was due to storm the compound at whatever time. In fact, if I could keep it a secret until I died, I would. "Let you know how it feels to be powerless,"
"Who said I don't want that?" I whispered back, too afraid to even say the words myself.
Valeria looked impressed, "Well, I guess I'll have to keep you guessing, because I can assure you, little bird, that I am not Sin Nombre," she purred into my ear before she pressed a tender kiss into my pulse. The one place that would give me away as being completely enamoured with her despite having only seen or known her for... two hours?
"I guess so," I smirked, and allowed her to pull herself away from me before she exited the room before me. There goes my chance of sleeping with one of the most deadly women on the planet. All because I blew it and decided to run my mouth.
As I walked out, defeated, a guard stormed towards me, his mask covered his facial expression, but it didn't stop him from looking pissed off at something. If I didn't know better, I'd turn around and run for it, but that would make a scene, and everyone would think I'd done something wrong then. Which, I had, but that's a surprise tool that'll help me later. Or, kill me. Either way, I'm not bothered.
He said my name as his hand encased my arm, "We need to move," he said, and my first immediate thought was, what the fuck?
"Alejandro?" I asked as I tried to crane my neck to see into his mask, but it was no use whatsoever, "What the fuck? Why are you here?" I asked him. He didn't respond, only continued to drag me towards the stairs where the Grand Piano had sat. As we approached it, all I could smell was gunpowder and the metallic twinge of blood. This had happened a lot quicker than I expected it too.
He dragged me up the stairs, where a trail of dead bodies laid discarded, and he passed me a handgun, "Shoot to kill," he said, and suddenly I regretted wearing a dress, and I cursed the fucker who allowed this to happen as quick as it had done. Right when I was getting what I wanted, it just had to be snatched away because of some mission.
"What the fuck," I said, because I had no clue what happened this quick. I didn't know anything, in fact, I'd been so out of the loop that I had no clue as to who or what our target was, and I'd only been in here a few minutes, but it was enough to frustrate me. "Where's Soap?" I asked.
But, the one thought on my mind was really, where is Valeria? I didn't want her to die, whilst she was a Sicaria, and she should not be admired, I didn't want her to meet her demise through a Scottish bloke with a stolen handgun, that would just be too anticlimactic. Something told me, that if she'd decided to die tonight, it would be all out. She wouldn't go peacefully, and neither would I.
"Fuckin' Nora!" The familiar Scottish accent bellowed as he approached the pair of us, his eyes dark from the focus and the lack of light, "I got the key-card," he muttered, and held up the blood-splattered card as though it was something he'd caught fishing
My eyes narrowed, "Can someone just tell me what we're doing?"
Soap looked at me a little too generously, his eyes wandered to my body, "You look..."
"Like a hooker, I know," I interrupted, "Just tell me what's happening!" I urged as I fired blindly whilst simultaneously praying that no bullet hit Valeria, wherever she was.
Soap checked how many bullets he had left in his Magazine, "We know where Sin Nombre is, and we're going to get him," he urged, my eyes never left his as he spoke in such an animated manner. All I could think about was Valeria, of her joke where she'd said she was Sin Nombre, and God how I hoped I was wrong about it.
---
When we arrived at the penthouse, it was oddly silent. There were no guards in the halls, no security cameras, nothing. We were truly alone as we wandered across the balcony and towards the double doors which separated us from a meeting. I could hear talking, nothing distinguishable, but there was definitely people talking in the background. The sounds were reminiscent of an argument, though I knew no one was arguing.
"Get the snake," Alejandro suggested as Soap approached the door before he crouched down and dug into the bag the Mexican had thrown towards him, "See who's in there, we need positive ID on El Sin Nombre," he said.
I laughed, "You don't know who he is, none of us do," I said, my tone cynical as I spoke. I was fed up of not being able to get my way in this job, I wanted to spend more time here, that's the whole point of me being here. I infiltrate, I'm a double agent, and I'm fucking good at it... for the most part.
"Thank you, captain obvious," Soap tutted as he observed the camera, "Valeria," he seethed, but my heart rate only sped up. Whilst he seemed pissed, I was nervous of all the possibilities from being in close proximity to her again. I wanted nothing more than for her to pepper my body with kisses, but it's immoral considering she was about to be our prisoner. "I'm going in," he said as he stood up and kicked the door wide open.
Valeria wasted no time in her escape, in fact, she moved so fast that if I'd have blinked, she'd have been gone. In itself, it was impressive. But, in reality, it pissed me off. I wanted her to hand herself across to us like some prised possession.
Instead, I carried on running after her, my eyes never left the back of her bob as she sprinted towards the roof. From there, who knew what would happen? She'd get to the roof, escape and be free. And I'd chase her down, I'd look for her in the faces of strangers as they pass by, I'd believe every glimpse of her ghost was her indeed her.
"Valeria!" I yelled between ragged pants as I pushed myself further than I believed was possible, "Just stop - damnit!" I called as I followed her onto the windy balcony. Only it wasn't windy, it was being watched by a helicopter. A United States Marines helicopter.
Soap and Alejandro ran out after me, nearly instantly, and Valeria sank down to her knees, her eyes on me with a pure look of fucking betrayal. "I thought we had something, little bird," she seethed with rage.
"I'm sorry, Valeria," I said, my hands tucked behind my back as I stood over her, "But I have other uses for you."
"Just wait until I get you alone," she said, my name spat at me by venom as she growled, "You'll see what uses you have," she maintained her eye contact as Soap placed cuffs on her, the objects tightened around her wrists as she remained on her knees before me, "You'll see how I treat traitors," she hissed.
Now, I strongly doubted I'd let her get that from me, but I'd be lying if I didn't say the prospect of her getting her way with me would be something I didn't want. Because I wanted Valeria, even if it meant she'd ruin me.