Summary: Leon has a lot of pent up energy after returning from Raccoon city and he couldn’t wait to release it on his sweet wife then she had to go and ask to fuck her with his requiem gun making his control completely snap.
Warnings; improper use of guns, heavy smut, dumbification, choking, overstimulation, feral Leon, praising, fingering, p in v, blowjobs, kinda improper use of a chair??, and whatever else I forgot to mention. not fully proofread
12k+ worrds
Going back to Raccoon City was hell to say the least.
But Leon has never felt better than he has in years relieving the constant pressure in his system as if something were wrong. He felt like a better man – a new man. All the weight of the trauma of Raccoon City made him finally breathe. And he couldn’t wait to see you.
But, he had to get his affairs in order like making sure Grace, the poor anxiety-induced woman jumping at every social interaction as if she were about be hanged at the gallows, was reunited with Emily as they both went into quarantine together to make sure any lingering viruses weren’t in their system. He trusted Rebecca Chambers to look after them now. To make a vaccine from his blood to cure Sherry and the remaining Raccoon City survivors.
Leon could breathe now.
The horror was over and he had a vaccine with Sherry’s name on it. And once he was back inside of the headquarters of DSO giving Sherry the vaccine, he stayed a bit longer making sure she was okay. He always had to make sure she was okay, perhaps he hovered a bit too much as she shooed him away to go shower because once again, he was submerged head to toe in grime and filth. But not before telling him that there was something for him in his office; a surprise, he raised an eyebrow at that wanting to ask for more details but she wouldn’t spill so he obeyed to go shower.
He didn’t want to return home smelling like shit. His best option was using the showers near the training rooms. His bulging muscular back ached with every breath he took, the water cascaded down each fine ridge curve of his muscles washing away the trauma and grime; the open wounds that he hadn’t noticed made him hiss, noticing the blood that poured down the drain.
Fuck, he wished you were here. Despite the calming that came from being cured, his adrenaline was still spiked – he needed to relieve this energy but a quick rub of his cock wouldn’t do the trick.
No.
What he needed was you. Leon needed to fuck his frustrations out in his pretty wife’s pussy molding it to his cock like he always did until he forgot the past two weeks of being gone from you. Two whole fucking weeks, he was sure he was never going to make it back to you but he was glad he did.
Truly, Leon believed he deserved a reward for surviving the worst again. And he was going to get that reward one way or another.
It took him a while in the shower to lay off touching himself at the thought of you. And it took even longer to dress himself in the backup clothes he had in his locker just in case for missions like these – a black compressed shirt that was a bit too tight because he ordered the wrong size ( 2 XL was beginning to fit snugly over his muscles ) covering up to his neck. His cotton boxers spilling on brushing over his hardening cock made him softly hiss and he pushed the feeling down then put on black pants looping his belt around it to secure it.
He was almost excited to get home to you and dive first into your pussy. Right, Sherry said there was a surprise for him in his office. “Sherry, I hope this is a good surprise because it’s cutting into fucking my wife time.” He muttered to himself, grabbing his requiem gun. Easily his large hand engulfed around the gun easily cocking it to see no more bullets. “Better send Grace the bill for each bullet she used.” He joked to himself.
His finger spinned the requiem gun around his hand before placing it on his hostler then made his way to his office. There was absolutely no one around from how late it was into the night besides the janitors, the strangling agents that had reports to fill out from missions, FSO agents that were on their tenth coffee cup trying to stay awake to help the field agents on the other line. Everyone was so busy in their zones that they didn’t notice Leon walking through the corridors back to his office.
Decades of the familiar sights that he almost practically lived here and this routine – a routine he shouldn’t have got comfortable with. It was a surviving routine that desensitized him to the actual world outside. This wasn’t home. But you were. His mind kept going back to you as he finally made his way into his office grumbling for whatever surprise was behind the door.
His hand reached the knob and opened the door. His breath hitched. The sight before him only brought more peace that the cure to Raccoon City syndrome couldn’t relieve him from.
You.
“Honey!” Your sweet, honey voiced erupted through the air and fuck, he was already gone from the simple sound of your voice that he felt his cock swelling beneath his pants. Before he could fully react further, you bounced up to him and threw your arms around his neck. “You’re okay.” Relief and shakiness battling in your tone after he had left two weeks ago to find a cure for the Raccoon City survivors and now, he was here and okay.
Leon froze for a moment then softly groaned. Familiar curves pressing against his chest, the black compressed didn’t help conceal the softness of your breasts. His arms immediately wrapped around your arms. Safe and secured – here and alive. He couldn’t help but bury his face against the crown of your head, pressing his nose through the strands of your hair and began inhaling deeply.
Very deeply. The familiar scent of shampoo and perfume entered his nose, his hips bucked involuntary and maddening, almost intimating the thought of thrusting into you from the simple touch and smell of you. Dying does that to a man. It made him rethink all the times he took for granted but not anymore; he was going to live again and he was going to do that starting with you. “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m better than okay. I feel better than I have in years.” His words came out deep and rumbling in promise to ease that pretty head of yours.
“I was so worried.” Your voice came out shaky, burying your face against his chest inhaling his freshly scented body trying to imprint his scent into your system. “I was here everyday and late at night to see if you were going to come back.”
His heart swelled at that. No one knew you were his wife; his pretty secretary – everyone would have assumed that you were just working for him while he was out on another mission. Not suspecting you were waiting for him here. For some reason, Leon felt feral over that information; he slightly pulled back and glanced down at you. No wonder you were in your formal work attire, attire he had ruined and ripped similar ones like the one you were wearing too many times behind closed curtains in his office.
His eyes were drawn to the way the silk crimson blouse hung loosely over your shoulders as buttons were undone down the middle exposing the plush of your breast pressed together and the very, very faint peeking outline of your black lace bra staring at him mockingly. He knew which set this one was; the set that you wore on his homecoming days where he did his best to not rip the fabric off your body.
“Well, I’m back, anddd,” His voice drawled a bit as his hands roamed from your back towards bunching the fabric beneath his skin as his hands landed around the swell of your breast. His thumb teasingly pressed on the edge of the middle of your blouse pushing the material apart by a fraction, “it seems like you anticipated my arrival. Sherry inform you?”
Your cheeks flushed. Busted. He always caught on everything you did –it was almost scary the amount of information he had stored inside his head about you. Because it was always about you. His pretty little wife was so sweet and caring when he came back from tough missions willing to allow him to lose himself in your pussy first to blow off adrenaline then he allowed himself to weigh in the trauma he faced.
Leon was only comfortable with telling you how he felt. It took a long time to tell you what troubled him at night. What the nightmares were and where they came from. At first he didn’t want to worry you but now, he allowed himself to feel more than just a weapon.
The trauma can come later. His lips twitched into a knowing smirk from your shy blush and the way you glanced away briefly nervously from being caught. “Well, thank fuck for Sherry because this was a delightful surprise.” He had to thank Sherry later for informing you of his return and how she cleared the floor for him ( he noticed before he came to his office, he just didn’t know why it was oddly quiet until now.)
“I wanted my surprise to be a present for when you came.”
A deep laugh poured out his mouth and his thumbs pressed the blouse material opened wider that the strain of the button almost snapped from his hold exposing the swell of your tits to his gaze. “Indeed it is a present and I intend on unwrapping my present right here and now.” His hands immediately began to tear the buttons on your blouse.
A soft squeak of surprise came out of you – it wasn’t the first time he took you in his office but the act of his feral behavior surprised you. “W-wait, you didn’t want to talk about what you went through?”
“No.”
Wow, okay. His answer was short and firm. It was like what he had been through the past two weeks and the past day with Grace had completely left his mind. Leon was a man on a mission to get to one that only kept him grounded in this fucked-up world. And that was you. It’s always been you and he was fucking starved to devour his world. The buttons on your blouse began dropping on the floor with a clattering clank-clank-clank with each one he tore, determined to see your body beneath it.
“Leon.” Your voice softly whimpered out from the cold air of his office hitting the freshly exposed skin across your chest. Nipples straining beneath the lace fabric from the sudden change of temperature. “I just bought this blouse. . “
Leon didn’t raise his gaze from his work on your blouse. One hand left from his workings as the other hand continued with the buttons, his hand reached inside of his wallet and pulled out the familiar gold credit card slamming it onto the desk on his left. “Buy another blouse then. Buy ten. Buy whatever you fucking want. I just want to see my gorgeous wife right now.” He would buy you another Porsche if that meant you allowed him to undress you and devour you as he had been thinking about for the last two weeks.
He would go into financial ruin if it meant he can get a taste of you.
His fingers tore the last button and the material of the blouse forcibly opened completely in the middle, the fabric began sliding down your shoulders. His pupils were blown wide and groaned roughly gazing at the familiar sight of your body. The familiar black lace that cupped your breast perfectly made his eyes dilated at the sight; it didn’t matter how many times he'd seen you in sexy lingerie he wanted more of it. He couldn’t stop from reaching his hands out and cupped the swell of your breast feeling the black lace beneath his skin as he squished your tits together which elicited another groan out of him.
“Fuck, I bet you couldn’t satisfy yourself while I was gone, huh pretty girl?” His voice mocked, brushing around the area on the bra where your erect nipple was straining at.
You arched into his touch and began to whimper. “I-I-”
A breath of amusement came out of his lips. “I already had to deal with one stammering girl for two days. Did I already make you dumb from my touch with just a few simple touches?” His words mocked further as both fingers on both breasts pinched the erecting nipple just a shy of harder than he normally does which illicit a whimper out of you. “Didn’t I teach you how to handle my hands? How to handle my mouth and cock? Didn’t I teach you how to use your words when I’m asking you something?”
There was no answer out of you. Just splutters and stammers again. His eyes narrowed down at you but his eyes flickered with amusement seeing how easily your lips part, eyes blown wide and your chest heaving against his hands. Was he really gone that long that you had forgotten your manners? “I couldn’t have been gone that long for you to forget all that I taught you, sweetheart.”
“I-I’m sorry, I-”
A rumble of amusement left his lips. This was pure entertainment to see how his wife easily crumbled and turned utterly dumb just from his hands on your body. The way your eyes shyly darted away for a moment just glance down at his too tight black compressed shirt ravishing his muscles barely hidden in the fabric right in front of him like a needy slut and not the wife he knew but then again, his wife was a slut for him. As much he is a slut for you.
It has been two weeks since he’s seen you. Perhaps, he was too forward and tried to get to the main course before preparing you sweetly then taking you like the way he dreamed of for the past couple days. “Awe, am I overwhelming my pretty girl? I wasn’t being a gentleman to you.” Being a gentleman was the last thing on his mind but he wanted to take his time with you because now, he had all the time in the world free from the burden of his illness. He was going to take his time pleasing his wife. “I’m sorry, really, I am. Let me go back to the basics of our lessons before I overwhelm you.”
Reluctantly his hands left your bra covered breast. Instead he used one hand to trail his hand over your throat, squeezing for a fleeting moment that he felt your pulse quicken for a moment and a sharp breath hitch before landing his palm against your cheek. His entire hand could have covered your face if he wanted to but no, he was going to be a gentleman and hold you sweet this time.
His thumb traced along your jawline, watching the way you swallowed thickly before his thumb landed on your bottom lip tugging on it briefly and then let go watching it bounce erotically. He groaned. “God, I missed these lips. I miss how they kiss every ache and bruise on my body. I miss them on my lips, so soft and sweet. I miss them around my cock and how they bruise when I fuck your face too hard.” Every sentence was becoming dirtier and dirtier by the passing minute, then his eyes softly softened. “I missed you.”
A soft admission. He hated being away from you for more than a day. Every time he was on a mission, his hatred for bioterrorism and the government grew because he had to keep dealing with the same shit each time and he was forced to be away from you. If only he trusted the world more to take care of the problems then he could stay home with you all the time. But he had to settle for the moments he can get just like now.
His mouth leaned down and captured your mouth against his lips; soft and yearning. The taste of home and cherries filled his lips from your chapstick. His eyes fluttered close from the taste, almost afraid that somehow Victor might have come back from the dead and steal you away from him. Victor. . .he wouldn’t allow it if that happened.
A hitched breath and soft whine escaped your lips, and Leon growled. His hand tightened around your face and began moving his mouth against yours. Lipstick smeared between panting and hungry lips, noises of pleasure erupted around his office space. His thumb pressed down on your chin demanding access and of course you always give it to him, his chest hummed in satisfaction, “good girl.”
The tip of his teeth began nibbling on your lower lip before slipping his tongue between your lips and a pained groan escaped his lips. “Shit-” Leon’s husky tone scorched against your mouth, “I’ve been needing you for so long. If you could have cured me from my virus I would have stayed here and devoured every inch of you.”
Hands landed on his shoulders trying to anchor yourself –or perhaps him to you. You weren’t sure. All that mattred was that Leon wasn’t going on another suicide mission and he was here focused on you, nothing else mattered. “I might be the cure to remedying your need for me, Mr. Kennedy.” A teased tone came out of your mouth burning his lips.
“You think you’d be a cure for me?” A laugh rumbled against your mouth before his hand slipped from your face finding purchase on your waist before lifting you up. A surprise gasp escaped your lips as he settled you carelessly on his desk forcing your legs to rest on either side of him. Files and ink clattered messily off to the floor with a loud clank. “You are poison, my wife. You taint every thought I have. You burn in my very heart. There is no cure for that and I don’t fucking care. I can never soothe this need for you.”
The confession had you shivering as his thumbs brushed against your ribs. No one ever saw Leon have this need for you because he kept it sacred. Private. And there was no better way of keeping his love for you away from the cruel world in his very office. Away from preying eyes. “I just want to drown in your poison, baby.” A soft silent plea came from him and you couldn’t do anything else but nod.
His lips quirk into a faint smirk. “Good, now I’m going to ask again. . and you better use words this time.” His hands roamed up your waist up towards the black lace cups hiding away those perfect tits he loved to stare at and mark up – he hated how there were no marks, all the ones he branded before he left weeks ago were gone. He needed to remedy that. “Were you able to satisfy yourself while I was gone?” His thumbs absentmindedly traced on the pebbling nipple beneath the fabric.
A whimper escaped your lips from each tortuous touch from Leon. He was being cruel at this moment, only because he wanted you wet and wanting. And, fuck, were you. The slick stuck uncomfortably against the black lace completely soaked through that there was a dampening spot on the stockings you wore. It was embarrassing how easily dumb you got from your husband that you almost didn't answer him.
“No. . .I couldn’t satisfy myself.” You admitted arching your chest against his hands and brought your high heeled point against his calf; he visibly stiffened from the touch. “I tried using my fingers, the toys you bought me to keep me occupied while you were gone. I couldn’t finish.” Perhaps you were getting bored of using your fingers and the toys because how often Leon left for missions, it wasn’t stimulating you as much anymore.
His breath hitched in pride at that – he ruined you from using useless toys and your inadequate fingers in this very office. He couldn’t count the many times his fingers were inside of your cunt while he was typing out reports, one hand on the computer and the other stuffed in your walls idly using his thumb to edge you for hours. His cock plundering into your heat with one hand lazily holding your mouth forcing you to be quiet while the other hand firm on your spine keeping you in place as his cheek and shoulder held a phone between it talking to important people acting as if he wasn’t balls deep inside of your pussy.
He almost felt pity for you. Almost. “Awe, my poor baby couldn’t cum properly, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll make it all better for you.” His hands tugged on the material of the black lace forcing the lace beneath your breast. The soft, pillowy flesh bounced in front of him and he groaned loudly from how hard your nipples were and the goosebumps that formed around it. He truly hated the government for keeping him away from this. “Fuck, it doesn’t matter how many times I see them, they’re so pretty and mine to suck.”
His body shifted between your legs forcing it to spread wider – the sound of fabric creaking under the forced pressure crinkled in the air. The black stockings you were stretching trying to accommodate the large frame of your husband. Your leg hitched higher on the side of his hip only to feel the cold metal handle of his requiem gun pressing against the side of your calf that it sent shivers across your leg.
You were never one for gun use. It honestly scared you but Leon made you learn how to shoot a gun just in case you needed to when he wasn’t around. It was more fun watching your husband fire at targets because he always showed off when you were around in the shooting range. His large hands engulfed around the handle expertly hitting each dead on the bullseye with a cocky smirk knowing you were watching him and clapping at each target he hit.
Then he liked to twirl the gun around his fingers after the fifth gunshot. It was loud despite the earmuffs he made you put on but what made you pause and stare at his hands was the way he used one hand to cock the gun. The way his fingers traced along the gun the same way he traced his fingers along the folds of your pussy with such ease and care. You hated how the simple actions of Leon handling his guns made you extremely wet.
It haunted you for a while thinking of the different ways the requiem gun would feel pressing against your skin. The cold metal easing warm skin but it wasn’t entirely the gun that made you wet at the thought. It was your husband handling the gun like how he handles you. Sometimes, you wondered how it would feel if he used a gun against your body.
The weight of the gun pressed against Leon’s hip when he shifted closer to you that it snapped him out of his daze, almost forgetting that he still had it on him. “Shit, sorry. I almost forgot I had that with me still, let me set it aside.” As much he wanted to ravish you, Leon didn’t want you getting hurt, ever. One of his hands left your body and reached down to grasp the handle to take it out. He intended to put it in one of the desk drawers but a hand stopped him before he could.
His brow raised as your cheeks flushed with shyness. “Yes, sweetheart?”
“Did you. . .were you able to handle the gun well when you were on your mission?”
Confusion filled Leon for a moment, he really hoped you weren’t asking about the mission when your tits were out begging to be marked up. “I guess. . .what does that matter?” He questioned with a shrug.
“I dunno, you always had cool techniques when you handle a gun.” A gentle pad of your thumb brushed against his wrist tracing around his bone before trailing behind his hand all the way to his fingers that were curled around the top part of the requiem gun.
“I bet you fucked up everyone with your gun. . .” Your voice trailed off, leaning slightly forwards as your lips brushed against the muzzle keeping your eyes completely focused on Leon in a half-lidded gaze. “I wonder what it would be like being fucked by your gun. . .Can you use your gun on me and show me your techniques?
Oh.
Oh.
He stayed quiet for a long moment. Leon should have guessed from the way at times you insisted on going with him to the training grounds when he would shoot rounds at targets that you were thinking of other things. He often caught you not staring at the targets he had expertly shot at. The way your eyes were on his hands instead while he fiddled with the gun, caressing it and reloaded the revolver with ease. He thought that maybe you were trying to learn from looking at him rather than caring about the targets he shot –oh, how dead wrong he was.
Embarrassment burned on your face from his lack of response and began pulling your lips away from the muzzle. “It-it was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have brought it up-”
His other hand shot out grasped the back of your head keeping your lips pressed firmly against the muzzle that had a faint lingering of gunpowder and use from his use and Grace’s; it was still slightly warm from its usage. You were right, this was a terrible idea and he should have scolded you for thinking he would allow a deadly weapon anywhere near your body but the prospect of a gun pleasing you, his gun; somehow the cure he got had brought a new sense of adrenaline in him.
He would be careful. He couldn’t stand the thought of bringing you harm just for his pleasure.
“Jesus, sweetheart, I’ve been gone only two weeks and you obtained some new kink?” A groan mixed in with a laugh escaped him. “Who would have thought my wife would discard gun safety? Butttt,” his voice drawled pressing the muzzle more against your mouth – he was lucky he cleaned the gun on the helicopter otherwise he wouldn’t have put the requiem anywhere near you, “have you been a good enough girl to be pleased by my gun?”
You couldn’t believe he was considering entertaining the idea. Leon, the man who feared for your safety but your safety was in his hands now. You were sure there were no bullets in the chamber. That the safety was on. There was no reason to worry when Leon seemed like he was into the idea of pleasing you with his gun. “I wore my special black set for you, didn’t I? Your homecoming present.” You pointed out. “I think I’ve been good enough to warrant pleasure from you.”
Leon hummed in agreement tracing the cold metal around your pouty lips. “You did.” He agreed but then his eyes went soft; always full of concern and snapped out his lust for a moment, “but I really need to know if you feel safe enough to do this. Because you know I would never take it far, the moment I believe I’m scaring you, I’m stopping.” Because his skills were made by the government as a weapon but for you? He wouldn’t use his skills to scare you, ever. He made that vow when he married you.
“You’d know if I say the safe word.” You mumbled against the gun.
Leon took another moment to consider this but it didn’t take him long to mull over it. The way your eyes gazed up at him blown wide. Lips shakily parted as if you were wanting to wrap your lips around the muzzle, Bare breast heaving in their spot pushed together from the black lace fabric just barely beneath the underside of your tits while you tried to control yourself. It must have been a rough two weeks with your inadequate fingers and toys if you wanted a gun to please you. But Leon never disappointed. He always delivered and spoiled you when you wanted something from him.
“Okay, baby.” Leon agreed with finality. “But because you’re a rookie, I need to teach you lessons in gun safety before I show you my techniques. I can’t just shove my gun inside of you, I need to make sure you’re prepared first.” A pout formed on your lips but a continuously gentle tap of the muzzle made it stop. “Awe, don’t pout. I just gotta make sure my pretty little wife is nice and wet for my gun.”
“What are you going to do?” You asked breathlessly.
His smirk widened. “I don’t want to spoil the surprise.” He trailed the gun down the crevice of your throat; each contrasting heat of the metal made you let out shaky breaths. Leon was being cruel by tapping the gun mockingly against your throat with each lingering downward caress. The faint warm muzzle made you dizzy with every touch, you were becoming impossibly wetter and he hadn’t even done anything with the gun yet.
The muzzle dragged down the valley of your breast and stayed there for a moment. The tip of the gun weighed heavily against your chest right against where your heart is. Leon suspected fear would have laced your features since the gun can blow body parts off if it was loaded but instead your eyes darkened further. “Trying to shoot my heart, Leon?”
A soft hum came out his lips. As if he would ever shoot at you. “Nah, just trying to see where I should touch you with my gun first.” He admitted pulling the gun away from your heart with another hum. “Because I can touch you.” His gun trailed down and tapped against the perk of your nipple just barely grazing the metal around it, “here.”
“Orr,” His words drawled quickly moving requiem away from your nipple leaving you pouting. He twirled the gun around his finger as he lowered it between your spread legs and placed it just teasingly against your clothed clit through the fabric of your stockings and tapped maddenily delicate, “here. Decisions, decisions.”
“Anywhere Leon. Just please. . .” You begged trying to rut your hips into the muzzle but frustratingly, Leon pulled the gun away from your ruts leaving you to whine while staring up at your husband with big, dilated eyes. “Leon, stop teasing me.”
A chuckle escaped out of him. “Sweetheart, if you’re trying to coax me into doing what you want, you’re going to need to try harder than that.” Leon replied, tapping the magnum revolver side against your inner thigh teasingly. “Your disregard for gun safety is concerning. Didn’t I tell you I was going to prepare you first? You should really understand how to handle a gun before it’s used, baby.”
Frustration crept on your face and you tried to slide your hips over the edge just to feel the muzzle through your stockings again. His other hand shot out, gripping the fat of your hip putting a stop to your plan. “What if I want you to fuck me already?” You questioned with a small pout.
Leon shook his head. “It’s not safe. Sweetheart.” The muzzle pressed insistently more against the fabric of your stockings and began dragging the tip of the gun in circles where your clit was at. A sharp breath inhaled from you and Leon let out a low whistle, you realized he’s been staring down at your legs the entire time instead of your face watching the fabric of your stockings being soaked through with slick. “Perhaps, I should just fuck you with my gun buttt,” he pulled the gun away leaving you with nothing again, “I want to take my time with my girl.”
“What do you mean-”
The sound of fabric ripping echoed throughout the office space. You didn’t realize what was happening until the cold air hit against the damp patch of slick clinging onto your panties. Leon had ripped your stockings straight down the middle to where he needed to see you the most. “Leon.” You scolded.
Leon cocked his head and let out a low whistle. The outline of your pussy strained against the fabric made him stay quiet for a moment. He had to just stare at the way the fabric was clearly wet from a few kisses and touches. “Use my credit card to get another pair.” He replied nonchalantly and then pulled away. “First rule in using a gun? Getting into the proper position, sweetheart.”
“The proper position?” You questioned with furrowed brows. Did he want you to stand up and handle the gun?
Leon chuckled at the confusion on your face. “Yes, the proper position. You can’t handle a gun if you’re not in the right position.” He stepped completely from between your legs and gestured the gun towards his leather office chair. “You know what position I want you to be in.”
For a moment, you didn’t understand what he meant until it hit you. His favorite position. He wanted your knees onto the seat, holding the headrest as your ass sticks out towards him. Lost in a daze, a sudden thwack hit against your laced pussy that a gasp of surprise came out and buck towards the sensation. His wedding band slicken with wetness when he pulled away. “Don’t tell me you forgot the position I taught you, honey.” He tsked.
Shaking your head, you shifted off the desk. “I didn’t. It was one of the last positions you had left me in before you left.”
“Good.” Leon said smugly. “I was almost worried you forgot the basics.”
“Hardly.” Walking over to his leather office chair, he was close behind you. Too eager and impatient to watch you from afar as you followed his command and assumed the proper position. It was almost hard to climb onto the plush leather chair from the tight pencil skirt you were wearing and the torn stockings limiting your movements making it awkward to get onto properly.
Leon must have been really impatient. He wrapped his muscular bicep around your waist, lifting you suddenly. A gasp came out of your lips and he placed you down properly onto the chair, just the way he likes it.
Ass out towards him. Breast pressed against the cushion on the seat. Back arched perfectly in the position he always liked to see it in. The sight made him groan. “God, you don’t how many times I thought about seeing you like this.” The muzzle pressed against your back holding you in place for a moment so he could just stare at you and admire you. “As much I want to immediately fuck you in this position, let’s start with the gun lesson shall we?”
Leon dragged the muzzle down your spine that you arched more down. The cold metal pressing tracing onto your back until you felt the muzzle bunching against the pencil skirt purposefully going to the edge of it on your thighs. “First lesson, always keep the gun pointed in a safe direction.” And in this case, the gun was pointed against the back of your thigh pushing the skirt up your ass bunching it just above it.
In his view was ripped stocking down the middle of your covered pussy and ass straining against the ripped stocking fabric. He licked his lips and pressed the gun against the fat of your pussy watching the outlining of it in the lace being engulfed around the muzzle. “You don’t want to accidentally harm anyone, do you, honey?”
A soft moan came out of you and you shook your head. “No. . .I thought you were going to show me your techniques?" You whined a complaint. “I don’t want lessons. . .”
The side of his gun smacked against your laced pussy making you flinch immediately from the hard metal. “Quiet down, rookie. Are you trying to talk back to me when I know what I’m doing?”
“N-no. I’m sorry.”
“Thought so.” A hooked finger on the side of your panties peeled away slowly pushing it aside to the right cheek bunching the fabric on your skin. He didn’t want to rip his favorite set on you.. He groaned seeing the fluorescent lights capturing the pearlescent juices glisten your folds. “Oh, honey I think you’re enjoying the lessons more than you thought and I haven’t even touched you with my gun.”
Leon missed the sight before him. He never wanted to be gone from you for this long again. He brought the muzzle against your fluttering pussy pressing the tip against the wetness. You whimpered from the sudden coldness and his eyes dilated seeing the creamy ring of wetness trickle against the metal.
The gun would be too big for you to handle. He sighed almost disappointed but he didn’t want to hurt you. He wasn’t going to shove requiem inside of you. He had other ideas of how to please you with his gun. “You’re too small to handle the gun, rookie. Butt,” he slid the gun down between your folds making you buck until the muzzle pressed against your hooded clit, “there’s other ways to keep the gun pointed in the desired direction.”
“I can handle it.” You protested.
Leon let out a breath of a laugh. “No, you can’t.” There was a shuffle behind you and you heard him kneeling behind you as his breath fanned against your pussy. A flutter came out of you from the familiar contrasting warmth of your husband compared to his gun. “Don’t worry, though. We’re going to the next lesson which is always be sure of your target and,” he pressed a purposeful circle around your clit with the muzzle, “what’s behind it.”
“You’re just trying to flex your experience with guns.” You deadpanned.
Smack, five fingers splayed harshly against the curve of your ass and he laughed at the sinful way your ass jiggled and the whine that escaped your lips. “Talking back to your instructor? Not a good idea when I’m the one holding your pleasure in my hands.”
Leon brought his fingers specifically his ring finger against the puffy glistening folds pressing for a moment and blew some air against your cunt just to watch it flutter around the tips of his fingers just begging to filled. His lips quirked into a smirk before his fingers pushed in and the familiar wet, warm stretch made his breath hitched.
“Not sassing me much now, are you?” Leon questioned as he took his time pushing two fingers inside of your cunt maddeningly slow that you were trying to buck your hips back but another firm solid object was keeping you in place. The requiem gun pressed hard against your clit forcing you to stay bent over on his chair. “No, you missed me too much to sass me, huh?”
You were almost too much in a daze to answer until a particular hard thrust of his fingers sliding in completely that the cold metal ring scratched your insides forcing you to answer him. “Y-yes, fuck, Leon. Of course I missed you.”
“Oh, I can tell.” Leon mumbled, glancing down at your pussy. It was completely engulfed by his fingers fluttering obscenely around the stretch of them. “Before we start, repeat the first two lessons I’ve said so far.”
“What?” You asked dumbly.
Leon rolled his eyes and began to circle the muzzle against the hood of your clit. A moan escaped your lips but it wasn’t enough to stimulate you as he refused to move his fingers and kept the slow pace with the gun. “Don’t tell me you forgot the lessons already? How else am I supposed to show you my techniques on handling a gun if you can’t remember the basics?” He clicked his tongue in fake annoyance.
“I-I’m trying, it’s a little hand when I’m stuffed by my husband.”
“You’re only making this harder on yourself, rookie.” Leon replied pressing harder against your clit but he didn’t speed up the pace, instead he completely stopped and you let out a frustrated groan. “Try to remember.” He commanded.
“Okay, okay.” Your hands clutched around the leather headrest glaring at the wall in front of you. “First lesson, always keep the gun pointed in a safe direction.”
Leon hummed and began his languid circles forcing the gun on a better position to circle your nub. “Good job, sweetheart. So you can remember when you’re asked nicely.” He tapped the gun suddenly on your clit that more pearlescent juices seeped out the corners of his fingers sliding down that he had to lean down and take a moment to lick on his glistening flesh, he groaned. “Next lesson, rookie?”
“Um,” Your head was in a daze. You hated how he wanted you to recite these dumb lessons while all you wanted to do was be fucked already. Another false sighed came out of him as his teeth suddenly bite down the fat flesh of your ass cheek. You yelped and looked over your shoulder and glared. “Leon!”
“Come on, what is the next lesson, sweetheart? Don’t make me punish you for forgetting so easily.”
Oh, you hated him at times. Especially when he was so smug about having your pleasure in his hands. “Always be sure of your target and what’s behind it.”
A soft press of his lips pressed against the red flesh he had just bitten. A mocking display of affection before he pulled away. “Good, now always treat guns as if they’re always loaded. In this case, I’m going to take extra care of this sweet pussy.”
Finally, his fingers began thrusting upwards. The essence of wetness dripped down his fingers down the curve of his wrist. He couldn’t find a better way of releasing his adrenaline than this. He deserved this after the long two weeks of finding death. And you deserved this for being such a good rookie and taking his lessons.
“Let me show you my techniques on how to handle a gun.” His other fingers gripped his requiem gun and began forcing the gun to rub against your clit more insistently now. Simultaneously, his fingers were stretching you out and set a pace of desired pleasure that loud moans broke throughout his office.
Thank fuck for Sherry for clearing out the entire floor because he desperately needed this.
It was reminiscent with how Leon handle his guns. His fingers tracing the inside of your walls as he did when he was cleaning his gun. The precision he had while reloading bullets inside of the chamber, flickering his thumb persistently against the revolver just to push his gun harder and harder against your clit. It was untamed and rough just like how he shot the gun.
Your eyes rolled. Leon truly spoiled you from completely your fantasies to the best of his abilities. “Mr. Kennedy, fuck, it feels so good.”
Leon let out a chuckle doing a particular thrust with his ring finger eliciting another moan out of you. “I told you that if you were patient enough that I would show you my techniques.” The speed of his fingers increased, needing to hear the squelching sound of your pussy filling the air. A purposeful drag of his fingers was more for his benefit needing to have the essence of your wetness to coat his wedding ring. He wanted to remember that he had a home to come to.
That your pleasure was one of the sources of his happiness. And god, what a source. Hearing those moans echoing in his office. The way your back arched, bent over his office chair, he watched the way the juices plap-plap-plap down onto the fabric.
He wasn’t sure how many times he had to get a new chair from all the other stains you left previously, but he wanted to keep this one longer so he can remember this night. So that each time he was sitting on your stains, he can have a piece of you throughout boring reports he had to write out.
The sound of your stockings ripping the further you arched to the point your ass was fully out made him groan. He needed a taste. All that dried food from the past two weeks didn’t sedate his hunger, only your pussy could.
With a slow drag, his fingers pulled out of your cunt and a frustrated whine escaped your lips. “W-what are you doing?” You questioned, annoyed looking over your shoulder again to glare at your husband.
Leon held his fingers up to show you the mess you made on him. “Look at what you did, Mrs. Kennedy.” He separated his fingers forcing the string of wetness to snap between them coating around his wedding ring. “You really liked my gun toying with your pretty little clit, huh?” The pearlescent ring of wetness trickled down the sides of his skin.
“I did.”
His eyes darkened at the sight and your confession. “Oh, Mrs. Kennedy, your next lesson? Announce when you’re about to shoot.”
“What-”
Leon slither his tongue inside of your cunt without a warning. He grins when he feels the tightness of your walls fluttering and the sound of abrupt moan escaping your lips. Your hips almost bucked away from the sudden sensation but it didn’t matter whether you moved forward or back because his gun was pressing against your clit and his face was pressing behind you.
“Fuck, Leon.”
His eyes rolled to the back of his head in pure, adulterated need of wanting more. He brought his other hand to pry open your folds more. You were so fucking wet for him that the honeyed slick splashed down on his awaiting tongue.
The creamy essence hit against his tongue and he closed his mouth groaning more loudly that you were almost sure he was being more louder than you. Now, you weren’t sure if the lesson of announcement was for you or him. No one in the office knew how loud Leon Kennedy can be for his pretty wife.
Especially when he was afraid he would never return home to you.
“Sounds like you’re enjoying this lesson more than me.” You breathlessly teased, staring at him the entire time. His eyes were half-lidded, hair sticking loosely to his forehead while his lips glistened in heavy pants from the simple taste of you.
“You have no fucking idea.” Immediately, Leon dove forward. His nose nuzzled between your folds inhaling deeply before his tongue laid flat against your pussy while he closed his eyes in utter bliss. Then, his tongue began tracing every crevice of your pussy as if he almost forgot what it felt like on his tongue. As if he found the fountain in youth in your pussy after years of searching.
He didn’t need the fountain of youth. Not when your pussy made him young again.
The requiem gun followed his ministrations on your clit. Fast paced and rough like he handled those fuckers back in Raccon City. Your fingers dug into the leather chair as your head fell forward against the head rest. “Holy fuck.”
The obscene sounds of squelching came from everywhere. His tongue pressing deeply inside of your walls determined to remember every ridge detail as his gun was dripping in wetness staining against your thighs. You can see how tightly Leon gripped the side of the gun, tracing the revolver as he normally did when he held it.
A grounding technique he had that grounded him to the familiar weight of the gun. Now, he was grounding himself to the bliss of tasting his wife’s pussy on his mouth.
The coil in your stomach was building up from the pleasure on both ends stimulating you so much. Thighs shaking that the chair kept squeaking and squeaking. Heavy pants and moans were coming from both parties; he sounded hot when he let loose like this. And it was all for you.
You flinched feeling a wet glob of saliva hit against your pussy and his breath suddenly fanning against your pussy. When did he pull out of you?
“Are you learning well, rookie?” Leon questioned. “Had enough of my gun techniques?"
Gingerly, you shook your head no and Leon grinned to himself watching the fat glob of saliva mixing in with your essences. His cock throbbed so hard in his pants. He just wanted to pull his pants down and fuck you but not yet, he was determined to make you cum first before he did anything else.
But first, he wanted to commemorate this moment of his welcome home present. His hand fished out for his phone in his pocket and pulled it out. He wasn’t dumb enough to use his work phone, he couldn’t have incriminating evidence of you on there.
The camera panned on your wet pussy and the sounds of clicks-clicks-clicks echoed throughout the room. “Leon,” you scolded, looking over your shoulder to see your husband taking different angles of the gun pressing against your clit. Up close to where juices were trickling down. Now, you weren’t sure if he was taking photos or videos, probably both knowing Leon.
“Sorry but you know how lonely it can get when I’m away from you too long.”
The fucker wasn’t sorry at all with the stupid grin he had on his face. He pulled out of your pleasure for this? You sighed, annoyed and smiled to yourself. “You’re lucky I love you.”
Leon hummed and turned off his phone. “I know, you spoil me too much, my wife.” He agreed and pulled his gun away from your clit. You furrowed your brows about to protest when he maneuvered the gun right against your hole this time. “But now it’s time to spoil you and show you to really handle a gun.”
“Leon-” He shushed you up by pressing the muzzle against your hole. There was a big stretch just from the tip that you fell forward against the leather chair and your toes curled that your heels fell onto the ground with a loud clank. “Nngh, oh my god.”
The stretch was delicious and it was obvious that he couldn’t push anymore without hurting you. Leon paused for a moment to see your reaction almost worried he had hurt you. But no, your brows were pinched together in a familiar state of bliss and he was sure you were going to claw off the leather off the chair from how hard you were gripping it.
“Feeling okay?” Leon had to ask anyway, teasingly trying to pull the gun away from your pussy but your ass pressed back against it refusing him to move away from him. “Fuck, yeah you’re okay.” Flexing his fingers around the handle, he began languidly thrusting the muzzle against your pussy. Not too hard or rough; just enough to stimulate you. “I thought my cock stretched you out good but, fuck, look at you - moaning over my gun that can’t even fit inside your tight pussy.”
Heavy pants and moans were his response. Leon was almost sure he broke you and he couldn’t wait to break you some more. “Let me show you how I handle my gun.” The muzzle began tracing the outlines of your pussy just barely pushing against your hole. He watched your walls flutter rapidly around the metal.
He knew it wasn’t enough stimulation to make you come so he brought his other hand against the side of your thigh to snake around the front. His fingers splayed on your lower stomach as his thumb found purchase on your hooded nub circling around it.
Leon knew it wouldn’t take you long to cum from how long he had been touching you. Yet, he took his time pushing you on the edge just to see your reactions. The cute whimpers and moans echoing in his office. The way your ass was pushing back against his gun trying to ride it yet he kept pulling away so you wouldn’t hurt yourself by accidentally taking more.
When he tilted his head to the side to rest his cheek on his shoulder just to watch you lose yourself on his gun and fingers; he can see your breast swaying above your black bra. He wished his hands weren’t occupied so he could take a video. Next time. Right now, he wanted to live in the moment.
“You’re taking my gun so well, sweetheart.” Leon softly praised with a particular flick of his thumb just to hear you cry out. “Look how pretty you make noises for me. I can watch you all day just riding my gun.”
An idea formed in his head and he couldn’t believe he didn’t think of it earlier. With a purpose stop of pressing his gun against your pussy, another frustrated whine came out of you. You were so close to cumming and he took it away just again. “Leon, stop fucking edging me.”
“Calm down. This is the final lesson.” Leon said, shifting on his knees to get a better view of your pussy against his gun. “Keep your finger off the trigger until your sights on the intended target.” Confusion laced on your face and a small smirk tugged on his lips. “My fingers won’t be on the trigger which means I won’t please you with my gun, you’re going to have to ride my gun if you want to cum, rookie.”
Oh, how you hated Leon at times. He just wanted a show. But if that meant you could finally come and he can fuck you then you had to agree. “Fine.” You grumbled, flexing your fingers around the leather chair to upright your position and hovered your pussy against the muzzle.
“Not too much riding, rookie.” Leon reminded you. “You don’t want to hurt yourself.”
You nodded and took a deep breath. His thumb circled around your clit again just so you could flutter and could ride the gun easier. Lowering yourself on the gun, a sharp breath came out of you. “There you go. You can do it.” He encouraged you in a soft tone that made your stomach flutter.
You were more nervous than you realized. With his encouragement, you began to ride his gun. Never going too low or hard as Leon watched you from behind intently making sure you weren’t taking more than you can handle. Finally, the stimulation was coming back and the creaking of the chair filled the office each time you picked up the pace.
Your knees were burning from bouncing on the requiem gun but you didn’t care. This is what you thought about for a very long time. Praises of encouragement were coming from Leon that made you impossibly wetter.
The metal scraped just barely in the inner walls as pearlescent juices were glistening down the sides of the gun. His eyes stared at the gun, almost jealous that all of those juices were being coated on the metal rather than on him. He couldn’t stand it. His tongue flattened against the metal where it was wet the most.
A rumble of a groan escaped his lips from the cold metal hitting against his tongue sending shivers down his spine. But moreso, the taste of the wet metal of your familiar wetness on his tastebuds was too much. He almost wanted to cum inside of his boxers.
The sounds of licking filled your ears. You almost wondered what that was until you realized Leon was licking his gun obscenely just to have a taste of you. A soft laugh came out of you. “I knew you would enjoy this.”
He hummed. “I’m enjoying this too much.” He mumbled against the metal.
The thought of your husband enjoying watching you ride his gun and tasting the gun made the coil in your stomach tightened. Thighs quivered and knees dug harder into the chair. You were on the verge of cumming and Leon noticed the familiar sight. “Come on, rookie. Cum on my gun and show me what you learned.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. Your body seized in your spot and a ripple of a moan came out of you. The relief of finally cumming washed over you as the wetness seeped out harsh out of your cunt trickling down around the muzzle down to the handle.
His lips pressed against the ass cheek flesh muttering soft praises about how well you did for him and how much of a good girl you were for taking his gun. You slumped over the chair and his thumb languidly came to a stop not wanting to over stimulate you at the moment.
“You okay?”
A hum of exhaustion came over you.
“Good.” The feeling of his gun pulling away from you sopping hole leaving you empty while wetness stained your inner thighs. You were about to ask what he was doing but the sounds of a belt clattering onto the ground with a deafening loud clink!
He grunted from standing up again after being on his knees for a while. Leon couldn’t wait to be inside of you with how hastily he opened the button of his pants and shoved the material of his jeans and boxers just beneath his ass. The cold feeling of his office air brushed against the straining erection that he hissed.
It didn’t help the volumes of precum slide down the underside of his cock making him twitch needily. Anticipation filled you hearing the sounds of slick-slick-slick filling the space, he was touching himself. Low grunts escaped his lips before the sound of walking came to the right of you.
You looked up to see Leon towering over you. His head tilted down with loose strands of hair falling over his head as his eyes were half-lidded with desire. “You wanna show me what you learned?” Leon gruffly asked you. “Show me with your mouth what you learned then if it’s adequate enough, I’ll fuck you properly.”
“Promise?”
Leon smiled softly. “I don’t back out on my vows.”
You bit your lower lip at that. He wasn’t wrong. It was only fair when he treated you so well for the past hour. Leon brought his hand against the back of your neck gently pulling you forward against the chair on level with his cock while his other hand holding his gun pressed against the column of your throat.
“Open wide, rookie.” Leon taunted, bringing the wet, cold muzzle just beneath your chin forcing your mouth open. The chair creaked when you were pulled close to his cockhead, he groaned when your breath fanned but then he really let out a spluttering noise when your tongue darted out to capture the weeping slit.
A moan rumbled around his flesh from the salty taste flooding your mouth. It had been too long since you tasted your husband. The same feral obsession took over you and your lips wrapped around his cock immediately, twirling your tongue obscenely around him.
Leon threw his head back and shut his eyes from the sensation. “Fuck, you’re making me feel so good.” He almost dropped the gun from feeling your hot mouth on him but his fingers flexed bringing the muzzle down your throat. He couldn’t stand another minute of just feeling your tongue twirling around his tip, he shifted his hips forward forcing you to take more down your throat.
“Mrph-” A splutter came out your muffled mouth that he can only groan louder. The feeling of cold metal pressed teasingly against your throat right where his cock was made your fingers dig crescent moons on the leather chair.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” Leon’s voice rumbles out, tracing the requiem where the bulge was prominent on your skin. “Feel that, rookie? You learn well from my gun techniques. Let’s see how much you remembered.”
His cock began sliding across your lips. He loved the way they stretched as your eyes fluttered. “First lesson, always keep the gun in a safe direction.” He tapped his cock mockingly inside of your mouth. “Second lesson, always be sure of your target and,” he thrusted forward letting out a shuddering breath, “and what’s behind it.”
“Third lesson,” He grunted, tightening his fingers on the back of your neck to pull you back and forward, back and forward, “Treat guns as if they’re always loaded.”
“Fourth and final lesson-” Leon pushed his cock all the way down your throat that your nose brushed against his pubic hairs. He admires the way your mouth leaves glittering glazes of spit dripping down his flesh to his balls. “-Keep your finger off the trigger until your sights on the intended target.”
Fingers flexed around your neck and as if he agonizing himself not fucking your throat properly, his hips were moving forward. The sight in front of him made his slit weep more precum down your throat. Bent over the office chair with your face hanging out taking his cock so well. Red lipstick that was smeared from earlier that left faint brandings on his cock as the gun kept pressing against the bulge.
He almost wanted to cum at the sight. Almost.
With herculean effort, his cock dragged slowly out of your mouth to watch the saliva trace down his flesh until he was fully out. Connection saliva was from your mouth and his cockhead until it snapped from a small movement of your head, falling down your chin. His eyes dilated at that sight and he moved his hand from the back of your neck towards your chin, wiping his thumb against the flesh.
“Was that adequate enough for you to fuck me, Leon?” You questioned.
“Adqueate enough?” Leon scoffed in disbelief. “Honey, I wanted to shoot my load down your throat. But there’s always later. You deserve a reward.”
Excitement filled you from his words. His thumb captures the mixture of essence off your chin before bringing it to his mouth, tasting himself and you. He smirked against his lips seeing the way your eyes darkened at the sight.
“Hmm, we taste so good.” Leon let out a deep chuckle from the way you were watching him walk away from you going behind you once again. He looped one of his thick, beefy biceps around your waist to keep you in place and forced you to spread out more on the leather chair.
He let out a low whistle from how much wetter you got from sucking him off. “Such a pretty sight. . .I need to be inside you, now.” There was nothing stopping him. He was tired of foreplay. He was tired of waiting. He needed you immensely.
His cock pressed against your folds and dragged between the fat of them capturing essence around the flesh to lubricate himself. Leon let out a shaky breath and brought his black compressed shirt towards his mouth, sinking his teeth between the material.
He was going to need it for the noises he was going to make. His beefy bicep flexed around your stomach to feel where he’s going to be hitting with his cock. “S-stop teasing, Leon. You already know far it’s going to be in me.”
Leon grunted against the material and he couldn’t help but smirk. He trained you so much to take his cock that you already knew how far he can reach inside of you. That information left him feral and his pinikish tip smooches at your wet entrance this time instead of teasing.
He lurches his hips backwards and then without warning, you’re being stuffed deep in your tight cunt. The first ring of muscle was easy to get through since he made you cum earlier on his gun. He almost faltered from the first ring and his teeth bit harder against his black compressed shirt muffling his loud groan.
He would have been embarrassed if he wasn’t in the best pussy he ever felt. “Come on, baby, open up for me. You were able to take the requiem, you can take my cock as you always do.” He mumbled against the fabric, tapping your ass cheek with his gun.
Your walls fluttered around him for a moment before you were able to relax, moaning from Leon being inside of you once again. The metal dragged to your spine teasingly pushing it underneath the bra strap to keep you still.
“It’s been two weeks since I had you.” You complained, looking over your shoulder with a small pout.
“Awe, my poor baby.” The side of the gun tapped mockingly against your skin. “You can handle it.” His swollen, aching cock rammed inside of you filling every ounce of space. Snug and tight just the way he remembered. His eyes rolled back, taking more fabric inside his mouth that the material lifted over his abs. “Holy fuck, I can’t believe I’ve been gone from this for so long.”
Leon didn’t want to wait. He couldn’t wait.
His hips began to immediately jackhammer against the plush your ass forcing his cock to stay buried deep inside of you refusing to let you not feel an inch of him. Wet plap-plap-plap filled the office spaces as creamy pearlescent globs of your wetness plop down towards his balls.
“Oh my god, I can feel you deep inside of me.” You cried out.
His bicep flexed around your stomach and you weren’t lying. His bulge was prominent beneath his bicep. The revelation of that made him all the more animalistic that he suddenly pressed his weight onto your back. Chest to back, his gun moved towards your lips forcing you to make out with it as he fucked you from behind.
“Yeah? You like when I’m deep inside of you, baby?” He questioned, bringing his nose against the crown of your head to inhale your scent deeply. His cock throbbed inside of you while you nodded dumbly, trying to move back against him but he wasn’t having it.
His chest pressed more against your back, forcing the chair to stay against the desk. The ratting of the chair hitting the desk hard as the sounds of your loud moans were a dream. It was definitely worth almost dying just to have this to be his welcome home present.
“Nngh, Leon, I’m still sensitive from earlier.”
Leon cocked his head to the side to rest his chin against your shoulder. “Oh? So you’re saying that you can’t handle this? It’s not fair that you can ride my gun but you can’t handle my cock.”
“B-because your cock is actually inside of me.” You replied in an annoyed breathless tone.
Leon let go of his teeth around the material of his black compressed shirt just to lean down to bite your shoulder making you yelp. “So, now you’re complaining? You’re the one who,” another particular hard thrust to illicit another moan out of you, “wore this pretty black set knowing it drives me fucking crazy.”
“You’re the one who told me your fantasies of being fucked by my gun.” Leon mumbled against your skin, pressing insistent kisses against your flesh making his way against the side of your neck. “You told me this is my welcome home present. And I’m going to do whatever I want with my present.”
His lips latched onto your skin sucking needily against it. Whines escaped you as your gooey cunt was molding around to the shape of his dick sucking up every inch of him. He took the opportunity of your open mouth to press the muzzle flat against your tongue.
The taste of your cum had dried on the cold metal. You rolled your eyes at the taste and traced your tongue along the metal. The coil tightened in your stomach from how close you were from cumming once again, earlier than he was.
Leon tilted his head to the side with a small pop of letting go of your flesh. “Already going to cum?” He mocked. You nodded and he sighed. “Okay, fine, go ahead.”
Stars burst behind your eyes from the white hot flash filling your entire being. You almost slumped over from cumming hard over his cock if it weren’t for his bicep holding against your waist.
Leon groaned against your shoulder, each pulsing wall clenched and how much louder the obscene squelching filled the office space. “Such a good girl giving me what I want.” He kissed your skin. “My pretty wife.”
Leon almost fell over you from how hard his thrust were and the chair obviously couldn’t keep up with him. His eyes narrowed at the chair as if it personally offended him. Maybe it did. “I need a new chair. I can’t fuck you like this.”
“What?-” A gasp escaped your lips from being pulled up in the air as the sound of the chair being pushed harshly away from you both with a thwack! Hitting against the nearest object. His bicep held you against his chest before he bent you over the desk.
The cold wooden desk squished against your tits. His bicep left your waist and found its way around your neck, practically putting you in a headlock. Muscles engulfed around the side of your face. Dizziness filled you as his cock was still in you while he moved you.
The weight of his muscular chest pressing completely on top of your back forcing you to stay on his desk. Leon couldn’t stand the distance when he fucked you and often laid his entire body on you just feel you. And god, he wished he took his shirt off to feel your skin against his but he was too much in a pussy drunk daze to do it.
“There, that’s better.” Leon mumbled against your ear. “Feel comfortable?”
“I have a two hundred pound of pure muscle on me.” You deadpanned. “How do you think I feel?”
A breath of amusement fanned against your ear as he placed a small kiss against the curve of your cheek. “You won’t be complaining about the weight soon, sweetheart.” His cock plunged deeper inside of you. A whimper escaped your mouth from the overstimulation of already cumming. Your sopping cunt fluttered around him demanding more. “See? Your pussy knows what it wants and don’t worry, I’ll give it to her.”
Leon wasted no time to jack hammer into you again. The desk rattled beneath from the harsh movements that you were might break this time. You felt dizzy His biceps flexing against your throat while his groans were unadulterated and filthy against your ear. He loved talking you through each thrust, praising you once again roughly in your ear.
Your hands reached up to hold onto his bicep to ground yourself from the intense pleasure shooting through you again. Tears brimmed the corner of your eyes but what set you off was the cold metal pressing down between your legs against your clit once again. A cry shot out of you, “n-no more, Leon, I can’t-”
“Ssh, you can.” Leon mumbled. Throbbing filled every single inch of your walls, he was close and you can tell from the way his hips were faltering for a moment. His breaths were short and sharp. “I know my wife can give me another one. Please, I need to feel you soaking me again.”
Fat tears escaped your eyes hitting down onto the desk as broken sobs came out of your lips. The wave of pleasure filled you once again, thrashing beneath him but he wouldn’t let you escape. His biceps tightened around your neck and his chest pressed harder against your back trapping you effectively.
“Come on, show me what you learned today.” Leon murmured, pressing the requiem flat against your clit and you had no choice but to cum once again. He whined at the fluttering of your cunt and the gooey essence. “Oh, thank you, baby.”
Yeah, he definitely was about to cum because he got all whiny towards the end of it. His hips faltered more as his lips pressed multiple kisses against the corner of your eyes. “M’gonna cum in you. Please, let me cum in you this time.” He whined against your skin. A tired nod came out of you and he rolled his eyes, thanking you profusely.
With a final burst, his hips stuttered to a complete stop and came inside of your greedy cunt. Walls fluttered around his stuffed cock gobbling up all the white ropes of seed emptying out – sheer volumes of two weeks worth of cum painting your insides. He definitely was satisfied with the gun technique lesson he’d given you.
His body slumped over yours to calm himself. Heavy breaths and pants filled his office from both of you. It took a few moments to collect himself before pulling himself to hover over your back. “You okay?” He asked softly now.
“Mhm-hmm.”
“Words, sweetheart.” Leon murmured, placing the requiem gun on the desk next to you. The faint traces of your wetness made him proud that he decided to go with your little fantasy. “You know I like hearing you say you’re okay.”
“M’okay.” You replied, laying your cheek against his bicep to look at him in the corner of your eye. “I’m tired now.”
Leon smiled softly and placed a small kiss to the side of your forehead. “Well, what did you expect when I came here to see my pretty wife after so long? I wasn’t going to hold back, you know. . .” Leon paused with a head cock. “Did you enjoy being fucked by my gun?”
“Yes.”
“Better than being fucked by me?” Leon grumbled.
Was he really jealous at the thought of his gun fucking you bettert than him? “Yes.” His eyes narrowed down at you and you rolled your eyes playfully. “Obviously not, old man.”
“Good.” Leon said with the tiniest satisfaction in his tone. “Nothing can be better than me.” Of course, he was going to be cocky about himself fucking you. His cock pulled out of you slowly as he inhaled sharply seeing the traces of cum on his flesh leaving streaks.
His eyes narrowed once his cock was fully out and cum began seeping down onto the ground. It was wasteful so he brought his fingers to the essence and forced it back inside. You twitched and glared at him but he just shrugged and grinned. “Oh, yeah, sweetheart. I adopted a daughter.”
“Another one?” You questioned with a sigh and finally, his fingers left your cunt. Finally he thought you deserved a break. “I thought Sherry was enough. . .well who is she?”
“Grace Ashcroft, we’re meeting her for dinner next week.”
“Leon, you can’t adopt an adult woman.”
“Well, I did. And I told her all about you.” Leon tapped your ass cheek affectionately. “Let’s go home so tell you what happened. But, did you learn all the proper gun techniques from today?”
“Mhm-hmm.” You lazily gave him a thumbs up.
Leon rolled his eyes from your exhausted state and felt pride wash over him. “Good.”
The adrenaline was gone and now, all he wanted to do was pour his heart out and give you the best aftercare. Because finally, Leon had a home to come to and he can finally breathe again.
At first I hated this fic but then once I got into the flow state, I was just writing feral lmao.
summary: A pillow talk turns sour when Leon tells you this might be his last time seeing you, and instead of bidding him a mournful goodbye, you have a hard time accepting this cruel joke called fate.
tags: 18+, explicit content, ab riding, rough sex, oral sex (f!receiving), spitting, unprotected p in v, angst with a happy ending, the girls are fighting (no literally, they have a catfight in the middle of sex but it’s kinda hot), leon and reader are OLD, fuckbuddy dynamic, suicidal ideation in the subtext if you squint, alternating povs, no use of y/n
word count: 6.4k
notes: this was initially just angst but the horny demons got me and then i decided to go the “release elpis” route and make this a one-shot. this isn't fully canon compliant because leon doesn't know that he's infected yet at the beginning. and he also knows that he's going to raccoon city before that = leon thinks he won't make it out of raccon city way before he knows he's sick. so, it's a bit sad innit. is he suicidal? maybe! please read this "maybe!" in a very elijah wood in that "will you wear wigs" interview way, thanks. if you think this detail will break the immersion for you, scroll down/click out now. if you decided to stay, enjoy!
➵ read on ao3.
“I’m going again,” he murmurs, tucking your hair back in your ear. He gets like this after sex, even though he’s the one who insists on leaving. It’s a just a habit from all those years ago, an empty flux of words just for a chance to talk. He knows you’ll ask him to stay, no, more like order him to stay with a roll of your eyes.
(And he will stay, for most of the time.)
“Stayyy,” you fake whine. He hates when you do that, says you sound like a Valley girl that brings trouble where she goes. But you swear he likes it when you get under his skin. Smushing your cheek against his bicep, you look up at him through heavy eyelids. “I know you need a good rest after all that, old man.”
His large palm cups your jaw, thumb mapping your cheek. “Not now.”
“Duty calls?” You grip his wrist to place a kiss inside, right on top of the veins that reach toward his palm. Leon has always been taking care of his physique, pressed to your lips, his forearm feels heavy, veins protruding across tough skin covered with old scars. “You can stay until then.”
There’s a question in the slight raise of his brows, ice blue stare piercing through you.
“I’m not seeing anyone at the moment, Leon.”
“What about the coffee shop guy?”
You let out a sigh, “We just flirted a bit while waiting for our coffee.”
“Hmm.” His hand falls naturally down to your neck, fingers curling to give your nape a light squeeze. “Has your number and everything.”
“I didn’t know you had a habit of snooping.” Biting the inside of your cheek, you feel the faint weight of his thumb on your windpipe. “Or being jealous.”
“I didn’t check your phone. You stopped kissing me to check the message, remember?”
“Ah, happened to see it, did you?”
“Yeah. How old is he? Forty something?”
“Younger than me, for sure.” Next thing, you’re swatting away his hand from your neck and pushing him flat against the bed, throwing your leg over his hips to sit on his stomach. “Divorced, most probably. With kids.”
He grunts and grabs your thigh, squeezing his eyes on the impact. You laugh, remembering the times he used to plop you down on top of him without a noise of complaint. He was two decades younger then.
“But don’t you worry your pretty little head. I like ‘em old.”
His eyes follow the slick space between your thighs, pressed to his abs, up your naked stomach and breasts. He looks at you the same way. Still hungry after all those years.
“Oh, I’m aware.”
You scratch down his firm chest like you would scratch a cat’s fur, nails grazing his ribcage. He lets out a content hum, eyes closed for a brief pause, and his hand on your thigh doesn’t remain idle, his nails dig into your skin. It’s not supple anymore, as with age it’s lost its elasticity.
You see his Adam’s apple move when you scoot down to his pelvis, his free hand on the mattress anchors your palms right above his belly button. He sniffs shortly, eyes glued to your face. “I can’t go again this soon.”
Age has gotten him too. His refractory period longer each time.
“It’s okay,” you whisper. You swear his eyes are redder than usual, it’s easy to attribute it to his lack of sleep, and the glossiness to the post-orgasm clarity. “I’m just teasing you.”
Normally, you’d double down and continue to make fun of him —“What, can’t get it up again, old man?”— and he’d be very smug about it, knowing he’d get you off in a few minutes with his fingers, mouth, or thigh. Then he’d be able to go again, leaving you more than satisfied. But it felt different this time. He held you closer, firmer, and he was quieter to hear you more clearly if you had to guess. So you felt as if you owed him a softer time.
“You should message him back.”
Your hands escape under his hold to mess up his hair, smoothing it back to see his wrinkled face clearly. Pulling on the long locks, you fully lay down on him, breasts pressed to his chest, and mumble against his closed lips. “Hey, you know your limp dick after sex is not a big deal to me. I like you just as you are.”
After a particularly firm pull on his hair, he lets out a soft moan. “No, I’m serious.”
“I’m serious, too.” You start kissing him, voice muffled by skin. From his temple to the deep crow’s feet next to his eye, to his cheekbone and prickly stubble and down to the corner of his lips, you get him to open up his mouth after a few licks. The wet sounds of kissing fill the dimly lit room, urging you to grind yourself on Leon’s happy trail.
“Fuuuck,” he sighs. “Get closer.”
“Any closer and I’ll be in your skin,” you chuckle, trying to shimmy down to his cock. You’re positive he’ll get hard after a few minutes of grinding, you’re still dripping slick from your previous escapades.
“Not down,” he asserts. “Come up.”
Thinking he wants you over his face, you make a move, but his fingers dip into the flesh of your hips to plant you right on his abs.
“Sit here. Do your thing.”
“What?”
Instead of telling you, he shows you. You see his chest muscles tighten, hear him grunt and press you even harder to himself. That’s when you also feel his midriff tighten against your bare sex.
You try it out, grind your core against his hardened abs. It feels better than humping a pillow, even though the last time you humped one was many years ago. A pillow doesn’t have muscular arms to move you how he likes, doesn’t have the warmth of a textured skin. A pillow doesn’t catch on to all the right places, it leaves you frustrated and wanting more.
But this feels right.
The slide of your wet cunt against his abdomen makes the heat between your legs travel up your chest, your pulse thrumming at your throat. Your knees might give out any second with the way they’re burning, but you don’t dare stop rolling your hips because Leon is not quiet this time. You think you can get off just from listening to his low moans.
He’s not like any other man. He prioritizes your pleasure above all else, gets off on the idea of you using him, his focus is always on your contorted expressions and strained noises. It’s the same for you too. With him, you’ve found the perfect equilibrium of give and take with lots and lots of practice.
In truth, you’re both using each other.
He goes away, you see other people, and he does too, and comes back, calling you at indecent hours, and next thing he's ringing at your door, pushing you inside, bending you in all sorts of positions, kissing you like there's no such thing called tomorrow. You get to play this fucked up cat and mouse game over and over again, until one of you gets bored, you suppose.
(It’s easier this way.)
“Le-Leon, breathe—“
He’s so tense and red under you, keeping his muscles tight and firm, blunt nails digging crescent moon marks on your hips. “Shit, no, don’t—don’t stop. Keep going.”
You disrupt the rhythm, pause your hips when he tries to drag you back and forth on his abs again, which makes his eyes open. “Mmnh—please.”
“Stop, Leon.”
For a couple of seconds, there’s a quick battle of movement between you two. You shove his arms away from your body all the while he brings them back on, you push when he pulls. A couple of slaps land on his forearms. “Calm down—ughh— you were going to tear an artery!”
You try to get up and off him but he clasps your wrists together on your chest, pushing you down to let you feel how hard he’s gotten just from making you pleasure yourself on him.
“You didn’t finish,” he says, tone so calm it pisses you off. Like he wasn’t just about to strain himself into oxygen deprivation.
Taking deep breaths through your nose, you rattle your handcuffs— Leon’s tight grip on your wrists. “This isn’t what I want.”
And that’s all it takes for Leon to loosen his grip, thumbs caressing your wrists in apology before wiping his palms on his face.
It’s your chance to throw yourself on your side, facing him. So you do just that, gather your legs and cross your ankles.
One of his hands drops unceremoniously to the mattress, the other stroking his scruff. A drop of wetness clings to his crow’s feet that you are left facing.
“I’m so sorry. About everything.”
“No.” Your voice cracks. “No, it was good. Really good—before, I mean.”
“Yeah, we used to be really good.”
You spring up immediately, trying to get a good look at his face. “What was that? Are we not good anymore? I meant the sex, before you tried to give yourself an aneurysm.”
Instead of answering your question, he deflects it. “Call the coffee shop guy tomorrow.”
He’s not the type of man to sulk, so he doesn’t turn his back to you, just turns his head.
Tired of his bullshit, you reach and cup his jaw, making him meet your eyes. No more tears, just exhaustion. “What the fuck is your problem?”
A beat of silence passes, he reaches up very calmly to smooth out the stubborn wrinkle between your eyebrows. “I need to believe you’ll be alright.”
You take your hand away like you’ve just touched something very hot. “Are you saying you want to end this?”
“We need to.”
“Why?…”The word comes out involuntarily, your brain feels fuzzy, taken aback by the sudden resolve. “Is it something that I did?”
“You know it’s not.” He’s stroking your arms for comfort. You’re not sure who it’s meant to be for. “There’s no guarantee that I will be back.”
Your mouth opens and closes, unsure of what to even say. “What do you mean? Are they relocating you?”
He doesn’t need to say no to that, you only ask these questions to make yourself believe in something other than what he’s insinuating, you can read his expression well enough.
“Where are they sending you? You know I won’t tell anybody.” You shake him by the elbows like that would get him to spill everything.
“I would tell you if I could.”
“When? Or am I also not allowed to know that?”
“In a few weeks.”
“A few weeks,” you repeat absentmindedly. “We still have time.”
“Look at me.” Seizing you by the arms, he grounds you back into reality. “This is might be my last goodbye to you—“
“No—!” You push his arms away. You’re surprised he lets you.
“Listen to me carefully. I need to be back at work tomorrow—no, listen—I won’t be able to see you. There will be preparations. Busy couple of weeks, then I’ll be gone. I need you to know that I regret ruining your chance at a normal life.”
A second at most, that’s how long Leon waits for you to respond. You’re shellshocked as he dangles his legs off the bed.
Thud.
His feet hit the floor. He bends down, searching for his boxers.
Your gaze lingers on the moving muscles of his back. He pulls the band over his hips, a soft grunt escapes him. There, your nails have left several reminders across his back.
He fishes for his socks with his toes, pulling them closer to the bed where he can pick them up easier.
Your head feels heavy against the soft pillow, time feels slower as he stands up and dresses himself.
Your ears stop ringing while he’s fumbling with his belt, and you finally find enough strength to fling yourself off the bed. Clutching onto him for dear life, wet cheek pressed to the back of his shirt, you keep inhaling his musky scent without an ounce of shame, already afraid of forgetting it.
And he lets you cry it out, no words exchanged.
You’re not twenty anymore, so you don’t care how this looks. You, sobbing and clinging to him naked while he, fully clothed, stands and waits for you to finish mourning.
He doesn’t turn around to look at your face as you let go of him to wipe your tears, just reaches to the nightstand for his car keys and wallet. Throwing on a robe, you follow him to your door out of habit.
Look at me, you plead in your head, holding the door open. And in a very familiar manner, he does.
Normally, you’d wrap your arms around his neck for a quick peck on the lips and he’d caress your back as an apology for leaving you so sore. “Don’t wait for me,” he’d say. You don’t expect it this time. Just like how you don’t expect him to cup your face and thumb away at the corners of your eyes now. Maybe it’s his apology for leaving you crying.
He wears an expression you haven’t seen before, as though he’s made peace with it despite everything. You’ve never seen a man accept his death so easily.
“Be well,” he whispers, lips pressed to your forehead.
He isn’t hurried as he walks towards his car in the dark, as if he’s waiting for you to call out “See you when you’re in town again!” from your patio like you always do.
But your familiar cheerful shout never reaches his ears this time. Instead, he pauses at his open car door, watching you, your arms crossed tightly as you shift from one bare foot to another under the pale glow of the patio light.
You raise your hand and wave into darkness as if you’ve just felt his eyes land on you. For a moment, he thinks you do.
He raises his hand in return, but you don’t see him as you press your hand over your mouth to muffle your sobs and go back inside.
He gets a series of texts from you at five a.m., blaming himself for making you lose sleep.
It reads:
You didn’t ruin anything, Leon. I chose this. I chose to wait for you every time. I was happy. And I don’t regret anything.
I don’t quite understand what you mean by ruining my chance at a normal life. I’ve racked my brain over thinking about this.
All I’ve been able to come up with is that you mean I’d have a partner or kids by now if I had never met you.
Or if we’d stopped seeing each other a long time ago.
I want you to know that neither option would have made me happy. I’m glad I met you. I’m glad I know you.
It was so good while it lasted.
He stares at the screen until his work alarm makes him sit up in his bed, head bowed between his shoulders, elbows on his knees. You don’t deserve it but he really shouldn’t reply to you.
Another text:
Did I wake you up? Sorry.
Going to his message settings, he disables his read receipts, so you won’t be able to know he’s seeing your texts the minute you send them. And maybe stop expecting him to answer.
If it’s not too much to ask, I’d like to keep in touch until you know when.
I didn’t get to kiss you goodbye, I think I deserve this at least. Don’t you think so, Leon?
And then you’re typing for a very long time. Leon doesn’t even blink, thumb pressing on your last message, making it the only visible text on his phone screen. He lets it go when a new one appears.
Don’t you think I deserve to know where you’ll be buried?
Hours later, his personal phone pings again when he’s having his blood drawn for a general health check up before he’s sent to Raccoon City.
Leon I’m so sorry. I hope you didn’t see my last message. It was out of line.
I can’t tell if you’re seeing this either.
But if you are reading these, let me clear myself up.
I have no idea what kind of work you’ll be doing this time, like always.
Your goodbye was intense. I guess I wanted to let you know how hurt I am. You left me with a panic attack.
I don’t know how you can be so sure of your own death. I’ve always believed you excelled at your job. No matter how dangerous it got.
Because you were always back in my arms in one piece.
I have a strong feeling it’ll be the same again. I’m not ready to lose you. Not yet.
The keys are under the potted plant as always. You’re welcome in my house at any time, you know that.
Please, let’s talk about this.
DSO provides agents with rings that track their health, meant for significant others to be notified if something bad happens suddenly.
Leon takes it.
He fishes out his phone from his pocket and keeps his messages to you very short:
Hey
The link I’m sending you is an app that tracks my health ring. Download it and track my code. I’ll send that as well.
It’s for you to know when it happens. My team will be able to contact you and answer any question you might have.
Your reply is instant:
Thank you.
Can I call you?
His bloodwork results cause havoc among the medical team. He’s showing symptoms of the t-virus. Sherry’s results don’t look too good either.
With further testing, Leon learns that his chronic fatigue and physical strain isn’t all due to his age.
After a four-hour-long executive meeting, the medical team decides to test all Raccoon City survivors. Sherry doesn’t waste a second to call Claire. Leon, on the other hand, has no way of contacting Ada. Thankfully, he can call Jill and tell her to come get tested as soon as possible.
They ask Leon if he’s been in close contact with anyone recently. He doesn’t hesitate to provide them with all your information.
They ask Leon to pull out of this mission and wait for the researchers to come up with an antidote. He insists and tells them he feels just fine, and that it'd be a short mission anyway. There really isn't much left of Raccoon City, except for another underground lab, apparently.
Five days later, there’s a nationwide public service announcement on the news about “taking the appropriate measures against this flu season” and about how “viral infections are preventable if citizens act responsible and get tested”, and it’s a deception tactic to screen for the t-virus. A cover for the medics going to former Raccoon City residents’ doors, and yours, for being in close contact with one of their infected agents.
Leon thinks it’s probably a good idea to prepare you before some health professionals show up at your door unannounced. Again, without answering your previous texts, he sends his.
An ambulance will be at your door tomorrow. You need to get yourself checked. Please do it.
And don’t wait for me.
He doesn't have a plan for the worst possible outcome. There's no cure. If you're infected as well, there will be a special place in hell for him, Leon thinks. He shouldn't have visited you. He shouldn't have let you get close to him in the first place all those years ago. He shouldn't have indulged.
He doesn't know what to do. He just doesn't want anyone dying because of him anymore.
You’ve seen his last messages. Your results are clean. He’s requested them and the people at the lab were kind enough to ease his mind by sharing them with him.
While the fact of you being unaffected soothes him greatly, there's still one more concern: How is he going to navigate being infected while he knows you'll be in that damn app every day, tracking his vitals?
So he takes the ring off one morning when he sees the decaying skin around his arms and neck in the mirror.
There really isn't much time left for him.
Leon, are you alright?
Your text confirms that you've been looking at that tracking app religiously. Because you text him exactly fifteen minutes after he takes the ring off. He wonders how it must look on your end.
A part of him wants to be selfish and accept your generousness, to find you in your house clueless, wants you to wrap your arms around his neck upon seeing him. He wants so badly to drown in your tenderness that he entertains the idea of abandoning the mission altogether. You'd stroke his graying hair and tell him it would be alright. You'd welcome his dying body with open arms, and you'd be warm, so warm in contrast to his cold and deteriorating skin. Only you would understand.
But he fucked that up, didn't he?
The next time Leon considers buying a lottery ticket, he'll call you and ask for the numbers because you must have some prophetic visions. You must, because he remembers the text well.
I'm not ready to lose you. Not yet.
One of Chris' men is telling him about getting them out of here. Several of his team members drop in on them from an opening in the structure above. Something something about an evacuation, a way out.
Leon and Grace are out of there in no time. He's telling the medics to check on her first, that she's injured. He's being coddled as well, someone throws a blanket around him, asking him how he's feeling. Multiple walkie-talkies are scratching at his ears, blue and red lights of cop cars blinking and blinding his vision.
He's safe. And alive.
Grace healed him. She made the right choice.
After checking up on Grace and reassuring her about little Emily, Leon walks back to the van that's going to drop him off at the DSO headquarters, pulling his ring out of his back pocket to put it back on his finger.
The soles of your feet ache, making your lower back strain. Hot water helps ease the pain a little but it’s only for a short burst, then it comes back again.
You’ve rinsed the soap off twenty minutes ago, right before a terrible head throb blackened your vision. Now you stand under the scalding hot cascade with your arms coiled around your shoulders, cheek pressed to your own skin.
There’s no guarantee that he will be back. He’s said so.
You’ve given yourself a headache thinking about it.
Burying your hand in your sore scalp, you pull at the wet strands, all the dead hair coils around your fingers. Stress isn't kind. There won't be much hair left on your head at this rate.
Unable to track #1z9-8Upi. Contact support for more details.
The letters are engraved behind your eyelids, burning your vision each time you close your eyes. Thanks to that, you don't need to look at your damn phone screen anymore. The pop-up message will still be the same no matter how hopeful you reach for your phone. You want to bring Leon back from the dead and tell him he's a liar to his face. He said they'd contact you when he'd pass away. They didn't.
You have no way of reaching out to anyone, either. The app doesn't actually have a “support”.
Sure, the link seemed dodgy when Leon first sent it to you, because the app didn't seem to be found through a regular search, or when he sent you his code made up of jumbled letters and numbers, though you trusted him and downloaded it anyway.
Facing away from the stream of water, you sit on the floor of your tub when your back screams bloody murder, knees sighing relief as you pull them to your chest. You realize too late that you've been standing while locking your knees straight. Your body is beyond tired at this point, sleep hasn't been in the picture for a couple of weeks.
Because how could you sleep or move on with your life when your Leon was six feet under the ground somewhere?
You should have taken pictures of him. Then you'd have something to remember him by during moments like these. You know he wouldn't have let you as if you've signed an NDA before doing anything with him. You didn't. Not when you met him at a bar years ago, not when he first showed up at your doorstep, not even when he kept coming back every time he was in town.
Now you regret not taking a single picture. Even an image of his faint silhouette on your bedroom wall, back when he used to get up first and dress before going into your kitchen, would have been enough.
“Hey.”
Great, now you're hallucinating his voice, too.
“I thought you didn't hear me come in.”
A sound of metal screeching on metal, like a shower curtain being moved. Then, you lose the feeling of water hitting your back. Someone turns it off.
Oh.
He's actually here. In the flesh.
Your head whips up in a flash before a half-yelp, half-sob escapes your lips, and you quickly turn your face to the wall. Hiding your hiccups with a palm, your eyes nearly cave in with how you're squeezing them shut.
“Hey, hey, hey—”
Next thing you know, your arms are being moved by your wrists. He opens you up like a gift, fingers under your chin tilting your face to the light, eyes examining your tear-streaked face with so much worry. He's sitting at the edge of the tub, waist twisted just to look at you, holding your hands just above your face. Just like how he had you over him last time, except you don't have much strength in you now, and you're not fighting him.
You don't know who moves first, you jump at his neck just as he bends down to you, holding the sides of the tub, he corners you while holding himself up in a very uncomfortable position. You squeeze him so hard that he loses all balance and almost falls sideways into your lap. You want him to.
You want him to crush you with his undeniable being. Right here in your tiny bathtub.
Everything that comes after is a blur. Him hoisting you up on your feet by your armpits, you clinging to him like a baby with separation anxiety, soaking his clean clothes with your drenched skin. He doesn't mind as he cups the back of your neck and wraps his arm across your back. Pulling him down to your chest, you watch his form become somehow smaller trying to nuzzle the space between your shoulder and neck, taking in not so subtle sniffs. Nothing seems to be enough as you try to get him in the tub by hugging him tighter.
The only noises in the bathroom come from two people clawing at each other relentlessly. You pull him at every chance while he tries to protect you from a crash, tries to maintain balance by slamming his palm on the shower curtain gathered on the side. You pull at that arm, tripping him on the edge of the bathtub, his leg bent at the knee to catch himself at the very last second. If he wasn't so big and heavy, this would've been your window to haul him in. His knee must be hurting now, still, he keeps on talking.
“Okay, okay. I'm here, yes, okay, let's just—”
And he's grunting, kissing you in between, on any patch of skin he can reach. Your lips, the spot behind your ear, the edge of your jaw, down your neck and clavicle, your shoulder as you press your cheek against his ear. A pathetic kind of noise, coming deep from your throat, cleaves the humid air when you grab his wandering hand and press it to your breast just to get a taste of a familiar feel. You need his rough and calloused skin on yours, and you're not afraid of demanding it, not now.
You take the charge, he takes it away from you. You whine, sniffle, he pants into your mouth. He pushes just to feel you pull. You're skimming your hands down his chest and stomach, slipping them up his navy blue shirt, he's groping your bottom to pull you into himself. You scratch up and down his abdomen, pulling at the hairs at his chest, and he's gripping you nice and tight.
“Alright, time to get out,” he says huskily, lips half stuck to yours, ending the chaos. Wrapping his arms under yours, he pulls you out. You lift your feet up, making his job easier.
Now much calmer, you have a clearer vision of him. “You look younger.” Your voice cracks. After all that, it's the first thing you say to him. It's ridiculous.
He's reaching for towels, wrapping you up and wiping your face, tucking your soaked hair away and petting at the corner of your eyes. He's here and he's real, you feel the weight of his hand, rough skin against the dampness. You rest your cheek against the wide breadth of his clothed chest, cartilage of your ear crushed under his steady thrumming heartbeat while he squeezes the water out of your hair with a towel. Your arms are coiled around his waist as he cups the back of your skull to kiss you square on the mouth. He starts off slow with a soft brush of his lips, then takes your bottom lip, pulling gently, dull nails raking down your spine. There's no rush in this kiss, you're both taking your sweet time loving on each other.
“I thought you died,” you utter quietly.
“I'm here.”
“I was so scared.”
He continues to soothe you with sweet whispers even when carrying you to your bedroom. You continue to ramble. “You shaved?” you ask at one point.
He huffs out a low chuckle, settling you on your feet near your bed. “Felt dirty.”
It's not the end of the world, you know it'll grow back to how you like it in two days.
He starts patting you dry by your shoulders with he towel he just unwrapped from your body, bending down to press a kiss to the jutting bone of your hip as he pats down the small of your back. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders when he kneels down to dry the backs of your legs. Reaching back, he picks up a comfortable pair of panties from the nightstand's second drawer. He waits for you to step into them, rolling them up your legs so the band snaps into place.
For some reason, you can't help but find the situation all too comical. He manages to return from the brink of death, yet still kneels at your feet, handling you with such care, as if you're a delicate little thing. It's always give and take with him. Always.
A quiet, breathless laugh slips past your lips.
The muscle in his jaw ticks, he looks up. “I half expected you to be angry.”
“I don't care about anything right now, Leon. You came back to me.”
His eyes fall shut upon relief, a low rumble in his throat, as your fingers run through his hair, sliding down to fist at the back of his shirt. The fabric is damp from your struggle in the bathroom, so you tug it up and over his shoulders, and he lifts his arms to help you. Then he sits you on the bed, traps your feet between his thighs on the ground, and lays his head on your lap, bare chest pressed to your knees.
Arms hugging your dangling legs between his, he wordlessly asks for it, and you scratch his back like it’s second nature.
“I'm sorry.”
“It's alright,” you mutter. “It's not your fault.” Whatever it is.
You don't know what causes it but there's a sudden, very primal, predatory look on his face right now. Is he angry?
“Leon?”
Unwinding his arms from your legs, he drops a kiss on your knee, eyes never leaving yours, hands sliding down your calves to give your ankles firm reassuring squeezes. He stands up, slow and deliberate, and taps his finger under your chin. The power easily and smoothly changes hands when you're with him. Because now, he's the one looking down at you from above. He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he undoes his belt, letting the buckle thud on the floor. “You make me want to be selfish.”
Your breath hitches. “Be selfish, Leon. It's okay.”
He's lunging at you, mouth open and fierce against yours, groaning, ripping your legs open while pushing your back flat on the bed. Fist in your hair, jaw slack, he starts sliding down, down, and down, biting on your breast, teeth gnawing at your nipple. He has to let go of your hair when nuzzling his nose into your navel, just above the band of your underwear he helped you put on. With a soft bite to your clothed mound, you're trembling under his hold. You grip his hair, yelping, his hair an anchor for your squirming.
He spits on your sex, rubs his saliva with his lips, and slacks his jaw for a long lick, the damp fabric of your panties creating a gratifying abrasion against your flesh. He eats at your cunt, panting as he hooks a finger under the gusset to pull it aside. His tongue is on you again, this time without any barriers, swiping up from hole to clit.
His movements are not gentle, or slow. They're hasty, like in the bathroom a while ago. He's taking off your panties in a hurry, sliding them down your legs and not even bothering to take them off fully, it dangles from your left ankle when he fumbles with his zipper. Hooking your knees over his elbows, he spits again, and you feel it, him pressing in, thrusting in one go. He leaves you no time to adjust, starts to pull your bottom off the bed, shoving his cock deep. You're not ready enough, it hurts, and you don't care. The breathless laugh he lets out when he sinks in makes you dig your nails to his meaty shoulders, it's like he can't believe his eyes that you actually like this side of him, rough and callous, having you at his mercy. You're pulling him in, trying to cross your ankles around his large form, to lock him down on you, you want it harder, faster, and it needs to hurt more, so you can be sure of the existence of the body that's on top of you.
There's a feral shadow over his eyes, telling you this is exactly what you need. You arch your hips to take him in deeper, the flesh of your bottom overflowing his firm grip, the moan you give into his mouth pleading and obscene. He's fucking hard and fast into your tight heat.
“Fuck, this is not gonna be long. Sor—”
As he's about to say sorry, you take his mouth, not letting him finish apologizing, sucking and licking his lips, teeth clashing, nipping at the corners of his mouth. He snakes a hand down to give the most sensitive part of your body a swirl, thumb feather-light on your clit. Pulling the hood slightly, he watches how his cock splits you open, and he can tell that it's too much, but there's no fear or loss or hurt in your eyes. Your warm insides swallow him like it's all going to be alright. “You're okay, yeah, you're okay,” he chants.
You think you saw him break before, when he was telling you goodbye, but this is it, this is Leon breaking.
Changing up the position, he gathers your legs on one shoulder and hugs them tight to his chest, cheek pressed to the patch of skin just above your ankles, and keeps fucking you with an unforgiving, ceaseless pace. You're close, you can feel he is too, you give him a soft wail, fingers reaching down to run along the hairs on his thighs, his heavy balls repeatedly slamming down on your ass.
Darkened eyes never leaving yours, he rips your legs open again to watch how his cock disappears in your cunt. He can tell you're coming with the way you're squirming and spasming, squeezing his cock and slamming your hands down on the mattress. He's right behind too, not leaving you alone. His balls tighten, and he's buried to the hilt so it's impossible to tell where you end and he begins, he lets out a strained moan as he comes down from his high.
“Is this the ring?”
His head is burrowed in your chest, he's sprawled over you. It's his favorite thing to do after sex.
He grabs your hand with the one that carries the ring and guides it to his lips, brushing the back of your palm with so much tenderness. “Yeah.”
“It doesn't work. Did you know that?”
“It does work.” He's playing with your fingers, squeezing them one by one. “I stopped wearing it for a while.” As if he can hear your frown, he continues. “I know you're mad, you have every reason to resent me and they're all valid. I just didn't want to worry you more than you already were. I was sick and wasn't getting any better, I couldn't find any excuse. I didn't want you seeing me like that. Thought I infected you with the same thing, hence the ambulance at your door. Turns out I didn't. You're as tough as leather.”
“I thought you died, Leon. I couldn't ask anyone anything. You weren't calling me or texting me.”
“I'm so sorry.”
“You know you're forgiven. Just… never make me experience this again. Or I'll bring you back from the dead and kill you myself.”
“It's not gonna happen again.”
He's kissing the inside of your wrist and you think everything's going to be alright again. He's back and he's in your arms, looking younger than you remember somehow. In the morning, he'll still be here, you'll count his grays and wrinkles, find some new scars, smother him in kisses when he opens his eyes. In the morning, everything will be alright.
“So did you call the coffee guy when I was—”
“Fuck you, Leon.”
a/n: heyyy so i know i posted the teaser very early but on my account i didn't expect to get my period and be sick as fuck at the same time this week. thanks for waiting and let me know what you think!
p.s: let's play find the hozier reference because i am simply incapable of writing a fic without involving hozier lyrics.
i know I've only posted for Logan so far and 99% of my followers will probably not read this but the lack of Quaritch pegging fanfics was unacceptable!
Pairing: Recom!Miles Quaritch x human!Reader
Summary: Who would have known that the Colonel knew what pegging was! But the real question is, would he let you fuck him? (Yes he would ;))
Wordcount: 5.1k
Warnings/tags: porn w little plot, pegging, anal, strap-on sex, blowjob, dirty talk, praise kink, slight edging, belly bulge, kuru play, Sub!Quaritch, Dom!Reader, anal fingering, prostate milking, doggy style, handjob, missionary, english is not my first language ❗not proof read❗im so tired
No pronouns for reader, gender-neutral
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
Miles was fresh out of the shower, just a very oversized towel hanging around his slender hips. You were lounging on his large bed, the air warm, soft with the sound of late night humming tech.
You watched a few stray drops of water run down his sculpted chest, biting your lip in thought. Who allowed him to be build like this? The scientists back on earth really did wonders with his recom avatar. You'd have to thank them one day.
The longer you watched him, the more you thought about the recent idea that had popped in your head as you watched him and the other recoms train outside a few days ago. You needed, CRAVED to see him arch his back while you fucked his ass, his ears glowing bright pink and trembling while the Colonel broke apart underneath you, someone just half his size. It made you shiver with anticipation!
Your eyes continoued to rake over his blue body, and you couldn't help but sit up on the bed to ask then, without shame "Hey, Miles...have you ever heard of pegging?"
He froze mid step and you could see his adams apple bop heavily, his ears flicking back. He tightened the grip around the rim of the towel, where his hand would usually rest on his gear, not even turning fully around to face you. Trying to sound nonchalant, he said "...nope" poppig the p.
You cocked your head to the side, mocking him "Oh really? Then why'd you pause like that?" you smirked, leaning back on your arms. His tail swished under the towel in irritation. You knew he hated how his body betrayed him so easily now. He couldn't hide anything anymore, every emotion laid out before you by his twitching ears and flicking tail.
"Didn't." He grunted out with a frown, brushing a hand over his damp, cropped hair. Your smirk only grew wider at his short response. "You totally did" you taunted him, hopping off his large bed to step closer to him, your voice dropping low, teasing and sultry, despite having to look up at him "You sure you don't know what it is?"
Miles scoffed, brushing past you to his wardrobe to get dressed, his tail purposefully slapping your face in the process. And despite his protests, you saw something move under the towel. "Yeah. Sure." he muttered gruffly, pulling a tank out of a drawer and pulling it over his head.
You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms. "Well...I want to try it. With you."
He spun around to face you in just under a second, his ears flattened out, nose scrunched in horror "Absolutely not!" He growled, acting all defensive and...embarrassed. That was the answer you were looking for and your smirk turned fully evil.
"So you do know what pegging is!"
He opened his mouth, but closed it soon after he realized he had been caught. His ears twitched in irritation, anger and embarrassement, his tail flicking like crazy. He was too flustered for his own good and you were cheering internally. Everyone shat their pants at Hell's Gate if they just had to look Quaritch in the eyes and he didn't do much to hide if he was getting bored with a conversation. So his flustered state really, REALLY fed your ego.
You stepped in closer, your chin resting on his hip bone, softly nuzzling the velvety skin there. He looked down at you like you just ruined him and his reputation for good and hated how smug you looked about it.
"You've thought about it, haven't you?" you whispered, your breath tickling his v-line. "Getting taken apart by someone half your size? Letting go of control for once?" you ran a hand down his abs, watching as he shuddered and drew in a sharp breath, looking away from you.
He was fighting hard with himself, you could see it. But his patience and restraint were running thinner and thinner by the second "Just imagine it, Miles" you purred, biting your lip, two fingers hooking under the towel around his hips that did nothing to hide how aroused he was "You, on all fours. Me, behind you, fucking that cute ass until you cum"
He was hard. So fucking hard. And his face? A bright purple blush stretched all the way to the tip of his ears. He was gnawing at his bottom lip, fangs glistening in the low light of the room while he swallowed thickly. That was the most consent you would get from him right now and it was enough.
It all started with a kiss that let every bit of doubt fall away. You wrapped a hand around his long braid, pulling at it to make him drop down to his knees, which was surprisingly easier than you thought, before standing on your tip-toes and joining your lips together. It was desperate and needy, as if Miles had secretly waited his whole life for you to finally suggest this.
Reluctantly, he let you pull away so you could get the strap out of the closet and put it around your hips as if you had done it a thousand times before. Well, he remembered that, back when he was still a human Colonel, you told him about the experiences you had with some women on earth before you came to pandora. But how you were able to pull out a strap and toy from HIS room was still a mystery to him. But he was way too horny to care anyway.
You climbed onto his large bed and stood at the edge of it, while he was kneeling before you. Yes, it was a bit awkward like this, but it was the only way to have the silicon cock properly near his mouth so he didn't have to bend his back too much. Despite his new avatar body being about 20 years old physically, he still complained about his joints as if he was 50.
Trying not to let the awkward position ruin the mood, you bendt down slightly to scratch his ears, your fingers rubbing the sensitive base to which he shivered in delight.
Miles' eyes were half lidded, but his pupils blown wide like a dinnerplate as he stared up at you longingly. Your fingers playing with his sensitive ears slipped up the side of his head to fist his hair in a tight grip that earned you a low groan. "Suck it. And mind those teeth, baby" you purred teasingly, your thumb invading his mouth.
He sucked gently on the digit with a flustered hum, then he opened his mouth wider, his teeth flashing back at you. The pad of your thumb rubbed his sandpaper-like tounge, his mouth opening wider the further down you went, so you were able to guide the tip of the silicon cock to his lips, lightly smacking it against his tounge. It made him whimper, a sound you didn't know he could make.
He was still reluctant to take it in his mouth, so when you tugged on his hair, gentle but firm, he looked up at you as if he was still unsure, before finally closing his mouth around the head. He was acting shy with it at first, slowly moving his head, not taking it deeper than a few short inches and popping off the girth to kiss down the shaft instead.
You knew he could do better, that he was more experienced than he let on. You think it was all platonic when he was stationed with his marine team mates back on earth? Yeah, think again.
"Come on, baby. If you want to get fucked, you gotta earn it. Show me what a good boy my colonel can be, alright?" you cooed, your hand soothingly rubbing his jaw as a form of encouragement. The little pet name seemed to do the trick instantly.
His eyes glazed over, his mouth opening wider to slowly ease the toy down gis throat. He was humming softly, his ears trembling so cutely while tears were dwelling in his eyes from how deep he took it. "There he is" you cheered, admiring how his long lashes fluttered against his cheeks.
Though after a few moments, you pulled him off completely, an obsence pop sounding before he gasped slightly, a string of saliva connecting his parted lips to the toy. His piercing golden eyes looked up at you as if he was scared he had done something wrong, but instead you just rubbed the tip over his right cheek, dragging it along his plush lips and dipping it back into his mouth, just a few inches, then smearing the spit soaked length against his left cheek. He moaned in surpise, but so turned on by what you were doing.
He kissed down the shaft, holding eyecontact with you without blinking, almost as if he was in search of your approval. You breathed out a low 'fuck' as you looked down at the face he made, and for a minute you wondered just how fucking hot he would look with a load of cum dripping over it. The thought made you exhale shakingly, oh how you wished you could do that to him.
His tongue dragged slowly up the length, curling around the head before softly dipping it into his mouth, his striped cheeks hollowing out. His flat nose, made to hold many kisses on its bridge, crinkled as he took a deep breath to prepare himself to let the toy ease down his throat. His ears were practically glued to his head and softly trembling like a kitten that was nursing milk from a bottle. His pink nose brushed your pelvis as he swallowed the length all the way down to the base. Miles' eyelids fluttered softly and helplessly, his eyes teary and glazed over while looking up at you, waiting for your praise.
When you asked him if you could peg him, not even in a thousand years you would have imagined this outcome. If someone told you now, in your horny haze, that you were actually poisoned by some pandorian flower and experiencing bad hallucinations before ultimately dying, you would have believed them. And you wouldn't have wanted to change a thing about it, you'd die any day if this was the last thing you saw- the Colonel choking on your cock like a slut.
"You look so pretty like this" you cooed, your hand reaching down to cradle his face, to which his tensed facial muscles relaxed and he let out a cute little breath through his nose. "Such a good Colonel for me" your whispers made his spine tingle and eager moans rumbled in his chest like a motor. You felt the vibration of the sounds through the base of your harness. It made you grab the back of your head to pull him closer. He choked slightly, but didn't stop his suckling. He wanted to be good for you like you said, so good for you.
His hands came up to grip your thighs to ground himself, squeezing the fat and flesh between his long fingers while he was rutting the air unconsciously, desperate to get some much needed friction on his throbbing cock, which was already poking out and leaking from underneath the flimsy towel.
He was so fucking pathetic, you loved it. And he loved it too, though he would never say that. If any of this was ever made public, he would kill you himself. He had a reputation to uphold, he couldn't let his team know he was a whore for cock, artificial or not.
These thoughts crossed his mind for a moment. What would happen if Lyle walked in here right now? He knew the door was locked, that Lyles quarters were on the other side of the station and that he would never enter without permission, hell the whole base was probably asleep by now! So why was he so scared? Scared wasn't even a word someone would usually describe him with- or ever.
You quickly noticed his sudden hesitation and grabbed his face in both hands, making him look up at you. "Look at you. Sucking my cock like a desperate little bitch. You're a Colonel, you've got authority, but you just want to be used" a whimper slipped from his throat the moment a tear ran down his cheek as he processed your words. So beautiful.
You couldn't help it, you just had to rock your hips once, just enough to hear him gag around the toy. He moaned again, even louder and more pathetic this time, his cock giving a sad throb, a clear drop of pre-cum sliding down his shaft.
You pulled him off by the base of his braid with a loud, wet pop and he grabbed his throat, coughing wildly and gasping for air. Miles' chest was heaving for air while watching you stroke the silicon cock that was lubed with his spit, his ears straightening up to listen to the slick sounds.
You cocked your head to the bed you were kneeling on. "Get on, big boy. All fours"
You had never seen anyone scramble to their feet so quickly, especially not someone his size. In his urgency, the towel fell away, revealing his hard cock and fuckable butt. Damn if it ain't Mr. Bubble Butt over there, throwing himself on the bed in the speed of light. And as if this position was second nature to him, he spread his knees far apart, his chest touching the matress and lifted up his tail to reveal his puckered hole to you.
All this while his cock was leaking and throbbing between his massive thighs. Fuck. Fucking hell. Did you die? Was this fucking heaven? Jesus Christ.
"God damn you...fuck, I don't even know" you groaned at the sight, his ears pinned to his head, brows knitted together in an adorable horny frown. You were utterly speechless. Eywa might as well just blessed the fuck out of you.
Not trying to make him wait any longer, you crawled towards him, running a hand up the back of his thigh and grasping a handful of his ass, making him yelp softly. You gave it a smack, admiring the way the blue flesh jiggled and earning you a nasty glare from your Colonel. But his cock was twitching and dripping like crazy, so you knew he secretly loved it. "I didn't know our Colonel was this desperate to get laid. We just had sex yesterday" you mocked him with a hearty grin and a giggle, wrapping your hand around his tail and feeling the muscles twitch underneath the skin.
"Fuck you" he growled in the back of his throat, his eyes sharp with irritation. "Fuck you? Oh I will fuck you, alright" you retorted. Any other time he would have bend you over his knee for that, for being so disrespectful and sarcastic to your boss. But right now, he wasn't your boss. He was your needy little thing that begged to be filled. And you were gonna give it to him before he could tap out on you.
While Quaritch could easily snap you in half like a twig, or throw you off, he allowed your hands to roam over his bare body, worshipping his strength and smooth skin. His skin was like velvet under your fingertips, the only texture being the goosebumps your touch left in its wake and the sweat that clung to him. You had touched and studied him a thousand times before, you could easily identify him solely on the pattern his stripes created. You knew him inside and out, but you would never grow tired of it. Of admiring, worshipping, kissing and licking every inch of him. But someone else got fed up quite quickly.
You leaned over him, lips brushing his neck "Hurry up or we're not doing this" he warned you, his voice shaking slightly. You chuckled, a sound that made the hairs on Quaritchs neck stand up. "Patience is a virtue, Colonel. You gotta respect that fact every second of every day" you chuckled, using his words against him to see his ears pin to his skull.
Then, you held your hand out, positioning it in front of his mouth. He furrowed his brows in confusion, his frown getting even deeper as he watched you smirk. "Spit" you said, and he snarled in disgust. A snort left you "A minute ago you were sucking me off like a whore, but this is where you draw the line?" you taunted him with a raised eyebrow.
Miles opened his mouth to protest, but quickly closed it again after he realised he could play hard to get all he wanted, but you wouldn’t give up either. With a flustered grunt, he spat into your hands. That earned him a smile "Good boy" you cooed, making his tail wag softly.
You pulled back to settle behind him, your hand that wasn't covered in spit spreading his ass cheeks. He huffed out, turning his head into the pillow. He was so...bare. And vulnerable. It felt wrong and uncomfortable, but damn, he didn't have it in him to stop you.
You rubbed his spit between your fingers, bringing your pointer and middle finger to his puckered hole, circling the makeshift lube around the rim. He tensed up immediately. "Fuck" he muttered "This is so fuckin' embarrassing."
You gave his lower back a gentle pat to get him to relax. "Just trust me, baby. I'm gonna make you feel so good you'll forget your own name, let alone how embarrassing you think this is" you reassured him, or at least tried to. He groaned like he hated how much that thought turned him on.
"Now open up, I'll be nice and gentle" you prepped him slowly, keeping in mind that his avatar most likely never had anything up his ass. At least his tightness let you think that. But you managed to slip in the first finger to your last knuckle, wriggling it around his soft walls. Miles whimpered above you "feels...weird" he said, clearing his throat as if your touch wasn't affecting him in the slightest.
He tensed up as you added another two fingers, his breathing turning a little shallow with every thrust of your fingers. "How do you feel?" you asked him, moving your fingers as if you were in search of something.
And for a second, you wondered if Na'vi and Avatar even had prostates. But before he could answer your question, the pads of your fingers passed over a soft lump, that special spot you were determined to find, and he gasped and keened, hips bucking while his cock twitched helplessly beneath him.
It was like a lighting bolt struck his body when you touched his sweet spot "What the f-fuck.." he rasped, trying to look over his shoulder as if he could see what you just did that felt this good. "Ah, there it is!" You cheered, aiming at his prostate again. It was pretty far inside, with his size and all. "Where is what- oh! fuck!" he was cut off by a screamed moan, your fingers rubbing his prostate with more purpose now.
His mouth stayed open in a silent groan while you circled the nub in slow but firm motions. His body was drawn tight like a spring ready to snap. The pleasure was so new and nothing he ever felt, he wanted more but he couldn't move, only fist the sheets and bite into the pillow to leave holes.
Miles tail curled around your wrist, squeezing you with every thrust just like his puckered hole did around your fingers. You watched his sexed out face with a satisfied grin and a giddy feeling rose in your chest. Just how fucked out would he look if he came on your strap?
He already seemed so close to cumming, subtily pressing his ass back against your hand, his cock drooling non stop over the sheets and so did he, his salaiva soaking the pillow case.
He looked divine, his moans and whines music to your ears. "Someone is enjoying himself, huh?" you purred, applying just a bit more pressure. It had him babble out a cute, dumb "uh-huh" and made his cock throb heavily against his stomach.
When you deemed his hole to be wet and loose enough, you pulled your fingers out. Quaritchs ears shot up in horror- how could you just stop!? He started to regain his senses just enough to lift his head and wriggle his ass back to chase your fingers "Fuckin'...don't stop now" he panted, the words ending with a low little whine. He had already lost his dignity, so he didn't care how needy he sounded or how much you would tease him for it. He just wanted to cum.
You giggled at his eagerness and straightened up on your knees "Relax, big guy. I'm on it" you mocked, blowing him a rasberry to which he could only respond with a frustrated huff and settled back into the bed.
You lined your strap up with his hole "Trust me, this is gonna feel so much better than my hands. Pinky promise" and with that, you pushed the tip past the tight ring of muscle.
His whole body arched at the intrusion, a sound ripping from his chest, loud and unfiltered as you pushed forward. His nose was crinkled in a deep snarl, almost as if he was in pain, fangs buried in his bottom lip until it bled.
"F-fuck, fuck! it's big-" Miles gasped, the stretch making his body lift off the matress slightly, only to realise his arms felt like jelly and couldn't hold him up. "Bigger than you" you confirmed with a nod, thrusting forward an inch, a hiccup sounding from the recom below you.
Just a few more inches and you were nestled inside all the way. His thighs were trembling and you soothingly rubbed a hand over them, squeezing the strong flesh softly. His eyes were screwed shut tightly as he tried to adapt to the stretch in his gut, his ears pinned back, breaths deep and controlled. You smiled warmly "Now you know what it feels like. Its pretty similar when you dick me down, so its only fair."
You leaned in and murmured "Now we're even" before deciding he had enough time to adjust, much like he did when you two had 'ordinary' sex, and pulled out to thrust back in.
You went to set a brutal pace, grasping his slim hips to pull him against your cock with every harsh thrust you delivered. His moan was straight out of a porn video while he couldn't control the way his hips were rocking back to meet you "Shit- shit- oh fuck, don't stop, please-" Miles cried out to you, grasping the headboard tightly you were sure if it was wood, he would have crushed it under his palm.
The sound of wet skin slapping against each other echoed through the room, in sync with his adorable little squeaks. He sounded like a baby viperwolf while he got fucked, he wasn't able to hold back a moan even if he wanted to.
He tried to bite into his hand to muffle some sounds, knowing after this he wouldn’t be in the mood to get a noise complaint from the room next to yours. But you wouldn’t have that.
You reached around, grabbed his braid, wrapped it once around your palm before pulling, his head jerking back with a yelp. "Don't you dare hold your sweet moans back." you barked, your answer being a pained groan from Miles. "Don't act like you don't want others to hear just how good you're getting fucked. Do you think they'd be jealous?"
He didn't respond to you, even after a few seconds, he just couldn't find a way to speak with how hard you were pounding his ass. You pulled his braid harder and slapped his ass with the hand that was gripping hips. His cock throbbed eagerly at the painful sting "Answer me, Colonel" you growled. "Would. They. Be. Jealous?" you asked again, thrusting especially deep with every word.
His back arched, his chest pressed flat on the matress "Yyyes, yes, yesyesyesyeas-" he babbled, turning more and more incoherent the further you impaled him on your strap.
"That's it, such a good boy. Can't even speak properly. Feels too good, doesn’t it?" you cooed and he nearly sobbed, nodding slightly despite the tight hold you had on his hair.
Thats when you hit it again. His sweet, sweet spot. But this time, it took out his legs and he screamed "Oh god fuck! Fuck right there!" he howled, his body limp on the bed. You even had to let go of his braid so you could use both hands to guide his hips back onto your dick. You grinned wolfishly "Fuck you're so hot like this, baby. Wanna keep you like this forever"
A deep pressure formed in his abdomen every time you brushed over his prostate. He felt like he was about to explode, it was so much, so overwhelming, but he feared he'd die if you stopped now. "I-I..I think- m'cumming" he rasped out, his breathing starting to pick up as he braced himself.
His cock was pulsing, purple and swollen at the tip, getting ready to cum all over the sheets. Just a little more, just a bit more and-
You stopped.
Didn't pull out, just stopped.
The feeling started to fade almost instantly. He sat up on his hands, pleadingly looking over his shoulder with the biggest, watery puppy dog eyes you had ever seen. "Fuck, don’t do this to me, I was so close" Quaritch whined, rocking his hips on your cock again, his own edged dick smearing precum over his stomach.
You bit your lip, you could just cum at the sight. "I know, thats why I want you on your back. I want to see that beautiful face when I make you cum" you panted, feeling a slight burn in your thighs now that you weren't moving.
In a second, he was on his back, trembling, spreading his legs for you. His cock stood proudly, the tip angrily throbbing over his belly button. He was averting your gaze, a part of him still being rational enough to be embarrassed.
But you softly put your hand on his cheek, wiping the stray tears that managed to escape his eyes without him noticing. "Watch" you said, guiding his gaze downward to were you slowly pushing the tip of the strap into him again. He groaned softly at the sight, finally feeling full again after you had pulled out of him moments ago. To him, it felt like hours of being empty and denied.
When he took you to the base, he threw his head back. You stared. Stared at his stomach. You knew he was slim, but you could literally see a small bulge forming on his abdomen. You groaned, cursing under your breath and going back to thrusting into him at a fast pace, but not without pressing onto the bulge in his tummy for a while to feel yourself moving within him.
Miles easily fell back into the pleasureable rhythm of being fucked, the change in position hitting even more spots inside him that made him see stars.
Without even having to say anything, he lifted his legs up so his knees where near his face, giving you the room to fuck him even deeper mating press style. Every time you fucked into him, his tight ass squelched around the strap. If Eywa would grant you one wish, you'd wish to have a cock so you could actually feel him squeezing you, how tight and warm he was. And the best- you could cum in him. The thought and desire drove you to pound him even harder, putting everything you had into your thrusts.
With the way his cock was moving with every harsh thrust, you couldn't just not touch it. You wrapped your hand around it, jerking him off in the same rhythm as your movements. He growled deeply, his dick pulsing in your grasp and his thighs trembling around your face.
Thats when you noticed his braid over his shoulder, the tendrils at the end pulsing in time with his rapid heartbeat. Without a second thought, you took his queue, looked him dead in the eyes, watched his pupils dialate as he registered what you were about to do and then let the tendrils wrap around your tounge.
He yelled. Straight up screamed with his chest. You sucked on his kuru, your wet tounge wriggling and swirling around it. He felt it in his head, in his whole body, the tingles and shocks your touch brought.
"Sweet Eywa- I- I can't-" he sobbed, his head tipping back before he couldn't hold it anymore. The abuse on his sweet spot, your hand stroking his cock at just the right pace, your tounge scrambling his brain- all of it made him lose his composure entirely.
The deep knot in his stomach snapped at last, cum shooting out his cock like a geyser. His vision went white and for a moment, he swore he was floating in Eywas realm, not caring that he didn't even believe in that stuff.
Ropes after ropes of thick cum painted his abs, his chest, even his throat and your face. He howled through his orgasm after his face had been locked up in the most pleasureable, eye-crossing expression you had ever seen, desperate sounds ripping from his throat.
His whole body was trembling and thrashing, the jerky movements nearly making you fall off the bed. You fucked him slowly through his climax, gently pulling out as you noticed his face scrunching up in discomfort.
Quaritch looked a mess. Covered in his own cum, his short hair sticking to his forhead because of how much he had been sweating, his braid tousled and coming undone at the end. He panted undern you, desperately trying to catch his breath.
You rubbed a hand over his trembling thighs, cooing to him. "You did so good for me. We gotta do that more often" you smiled and crawled up to him to kiss his lips. He barely had the strength to kiss you back.
When you pulled away, he grunted in agreement, a satisfied but tired smirk on his face. "Not bad for a civilian" he teased. Ah, back he was to being himself again. You almost missed the whiney man he was just moments ago.
You laughed, swatting his cum covered chest playfully. "I'll show you not bad" you giggled, climbing on top of him once more. "Let's go another round, shall we?"
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
Please take your time to like, reblog and comment! It means the world to me
This took so long only for no one to read it💔 I already know it won't do good bc Quaritch is sooo criminally underrated. Maybe the hype will come back when the third movie is out so i didn't just write this fic for me and the other four ppl
I love Pedro Pascal with all my heart and soul as Joel, I love him in every single role he plays, but fucking hell, Nikolaj would kill it. It's like Joel was meant for him to play, not only because he looks just like him but acting wise too 😭
(Kuru play???!) was thinking about how nice it would be to put this man in his place and show him whose boss. size does NOT matter. he's bad. but he's so annoyingly hot. i just wanna aaaaaa-
"you're not scared of me, are you?" the blue colonel tilts his head in fascination. cocking an eyebrow at you from across the conference table. "why should i be?" maintaining defiant eye contact with the avatar who was thrice your size, much taller than any of the others.
they too, seemed amused at the tension between the both of you. you think quaritch is an ass. you can't stand him but you're well aware. the only person to ever give him back his own attitude was you.
"how about I talk to you in your office?" quaritch drawls out, tail swishing behind him. and you internally realise he doesn't even know how affected he is. so disconnected from his own body. "right now." you finish off, slamming the table and walking past the door. you don't need to even look back to see if he's behind you because within seconds his footsteps thud.
"look i'll be nice-" a large strong hand engulfs your whole arm and you turn around. so quick that it takes him off guard, shoving his arm away. reaching behind his back for the ultimate weapon.
"i never asked you to be..." gripping the end of his braided kuru. he hisses, eyes widening as he lunges at you. failing miserably because you press down on a specific sensitive point. it has him trembling and frozen. "..nice."
you grit out, his back curved as he stops himself from falling. fangs coming on display as he hisses aggressively. fading into a choked whimper.
"Get. Down. Now." punctuating your words with a tightening grip on his braid. his eyes widening considerably. gradually dropping down onto his knees, mouth open to release shaky breaths. "you should know. I have a lot of tricks up my sleeve so don't play with me" and he raises his hands up in what you think is defeat. giving you a curt nod. gaze glued to you in awe.
"this is my lab, colonel miles quaritch." sarcasm dripping from your tone, tugging lightly till his eyelids close and his blue ears flutter. "y-yeah. yeah its all yours alright" inhaling deeply when you let go of him. pointing a finger right up in his face.
"and you better learn to respect my rules, especially in my domain" and he blinks furiously at the threat. composing himself poorly but his voice gives it away.
he's turned on. and its so pathetic, you think its hot. "...that...that can be arranged, cupcake"
hi!! I LOVE your dark! rick grimes story!! Rick with a breeding kink would be so hot in part 3
Heyy, thank youu my love! My most recent post is a Rick x Reader oneshot with a breeding kink. It´s not part of the "Uninvited" series but I´m sure you´ll love it. <3
Halloween. You never thought you’d celebrate it again. After everything the world has faced; constant threat, loss, fear; you believed those days were behind you. But somehow, life in Alexandria has given you a new chance, a small window to enjoy the simple pleasures. Celebrations, laughter, costumes...things you once took for granted. It’s a strange feeling, bittersweet.
Standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, you take a deep breath and run your fingers through your hair, trying to steady your nerves. You apply the makeup Carol handed you, her gentle encouragement making you feel a little braver. Carol has become like family, like a mother figure and you’re grateful for her kindness.
A few days ago, you’d asked Rosita for costume advice. She’s in charge of the supplies, always keeping everything organized. Without a word, she handed you a small package. You didn’t think much of it at the time, just another piece of the puzzle. Now, as you unpack it, your stomach tightens. The costume is... revealing. A tiny black lace piece (with holes on the bottom?), satin gloves, a black tie, and those familiar bunny ears. And the tail? A buttplug.
Your cheeks flush with heat as you hold the flimsy fabric in your hands, realizing just how daring, how risqué, this ensemble is. You wonder what Rick will think when he sees you. A thrill runs down your spine, a mix of nerves and excitement.
You couldn’t show up to Deanna’s house like this. No one would ever dare to look you in the eyes or invite you to something ever again. Except for Rosita, she knew exactly what she was doing. That little smirk while handing you the costume, you hadn’t overlooked it.
But there was still the urge inside you to see how it would look on your body. So you step into the costume. It’s tight, almost painfully so and you wonder if you’ll be able to breathe or move in it. The lace hugs your curves, accentuating everything, and the gloves add an extra layer of allure. You double-check your reflection, adjusting the bunny ears atop your head, feeling a strange mix of vulnerability and confidence. You had to be honest, you look fucking sexy.
Just as you finish, there’s a soft knock on the door. You hesitate for a moment before opening it to find Rick standing in front of it.
His eyes widen slightly as his gaze flicks over you. He’s silent for a moment, almost as if hypnotised. “Wow,” he breathes heavily. “Happy Halloween, my love,” you greet him, a shy smile tugging on your lips. Something in his expression changes; it’s as if his eyes darken and a switch inside of him flips. “Go to the bedroom, go to our room, walk,” he demands gruffly. You try to protest, saying you’ve got to put away your stuff, but he shushes you, assuring you that he will take care of it later.
He always does.
You slowly make your way upstairs, feeling his hot breath on your neck. Rick opens the door and motions to the bed, “there we go, sweetheart, lay back,” he encourages, stealing a kiss from you. You can already see his length, hard as a rock. Keeping eye contact, Rick spreads your legs. “You forgot something, bunny girl,” he says, dangling the plug in front of you.
A breath hitches in your throat; you’ve never done this before, and he knows it. You look into his eyes, pleading, and share a long, intimate kiss. “I promise I’ll be gentle baby, at least for now,” he whispers in your ear and presses a kiss to your forehead. Slowly, Rick kisses down the valley of your breasts, to your stomach until he reaches where he wants to be. He practically drools as he raises your legs up and sees the tiny, puckered hole.
“Let’s give it a little taste first. What do you say, little bunny?” You nod nervously, hating his teasing and the way he almost makes you feel humiliated. “Speak up, baby,” he says, his hot breath already on your tight ass. “Y-yes, please, Rick,” you manage to say. He doesn’t stop there; his blue eyes bore into yours disapprovingly and he promptly delivers a stinging slap to your butt cheek. “Who’s Rick?” “Please, Daddy,” you plead. He grins wolfishly and chuckles, “That’s better, bunny girl.”
He circles your rim with the tip of his tongue teasingly; it’s not enough for you.
He continues to rile you up, mouth gently circling the pucker, sending shivers down your spine. You arch your back, pressing against his mouth, desperate for more. Rick chuckles, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through you. “Patience” he murmurs, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. “We’ve got enough time, sweetheart.”
Slowly, he increases the pressure, his tongue delving deeper, exploring every inch of you. You moan, your hands fisting the sheets as you struggle to keep yourself from begging for more. Rick’s hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as he feasts on you, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony. “Fucking beautiful,” he whispers against your skin while fucking your ass with his tongue. He slowly introduces one finger and starts thrusting it inside of you, his knuckle reaching up. You pull on his hair, breathless. He pushes another one inside and slowly thrusts both of them in. “I think you’re enjoying this, bunny?” he cocks his head, making eye contact with your shaking form. You nod weakly, not being able to form words. That’s when suddenly, you feel cold metal against your bottom.
Rick smirks, his eyes dark with desire. “Ready for more?” he asks, a challenge in his voice. You nod, your body aching with need. “Need y-you, Daddyy,” you whimper, your voice barely audible. With a slow, deliberate motion, your partner pushes the plug inside you, his fingers guiding it, ensuring you feel every inch of the intrusion. You gasp, your body tensing around it, but Rick’s touch is gentle, soothing, coaxing you to relax and accept him.
“Good fucking girl, look at your pretty bunny tail.” he praises and rises again to kiss you, leaving tiny kisses around your whole face. His lips trail down to your ear, his breath hot and heavy. “You know how much I love seeing you like this, so desperate and needy. It drives me wild, little bunny.”
Rick pulls back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, a wicked grin playing on his wet lips. “You’ve always been so desperate for it, haven’t you?” hovering above you, he trails his hand along your stomach. “Soft little bunny belly, you’ve been wanting me to put a baby inside you forever.” You gasp, desire bubbling inside you again. Your boyfriend chuckles, a low husky sound “I can already imagine it, bunny. My seed deep inside you, planting my baby in your womb. You’d look so fucking beautiful, round and pregnant with my child.”
His hand moves lower, his fingers brushing against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body "Barely touched you and you’re already dripping, sweetheart.”
He leans down, capturing your lips in a fierce, demanding kiss. You can taste his desire, his need for you. His hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour, igniting a fire within you. You arch into his touch, your body aching with need. You can feel him, hard and heavy against your thigh. “I kept telling myself we can’t. But all I can think about is getting you pregnant, little bunny,” he groans, grinding against you.
With eager fingers, you reach for Rick’s belt, trying to open it. "Someone’s eager. You wanna ride my cock, make you a mommy?” he asks, almost mockingly, helping to free his throbbing cock. You can barely form words, your mind clouded with lust and desire. “Yes, yes, pleaseee. Wanna ride you, Rick,” you manage to whisper, your voice breathless and pleading.
Rick smirks, a wicked glint in his eye. “That’s my greedy little bunny. Always so eager to take my cock and fill that tight little pussy with my seed,” he growls, his voice thick with lust. He flips you upside down, so you’re on top of him, and you free his length entirely, running your hands over it, the gloves getting wet from his precum. He laughs, “Cute little bunny girl, you’re in heat. No need to tease me, I’ll make both of us happy.”
He trails his hands to your breasts, softly squeezing the rock-hard nipples, and groans, suckling on both of them through the lace. “You’ll look so beautiful with a belly and those swollen tits, baby. Can’t wait,” he whispers against the fabric. Rick leaves a few open-mouthed kisses and bites on your neck. He puts his hands on your waist, steadying your overwhelmed form. “Tell me you wanna have my baby, tell me sweetheart,” he demands, gripping your sides.
“W-wanna be a mommy,” you cry out, having enough of his teasing. You slam down on his cock, underestimating the impact of the intrusion. You both moan in unison, the sensation overpowering and intense.
Rick’s hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he starts to move, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. “Fuck, bunny, you feel so good,” he groans throwing his head back, his voice laced with pleasure.
You bounce on him, your body rising and falling with each thrust. You can feel every inch of him, every vein, the sensation overwhelming.
As you make eye contact, his pupils burning into yours, you lean down to give Rick an open-mouthed, dirty kiss.
Breath mixing, saliva pouring, teeth clashing.
Your breasts heave with each movement, the lace of your costume rubbing against your sensitive nipples, adding to the pleasure. You ride him with abandon, your body driven by a primal need to be filled, to be claimed. Broken cries come from your throat, raw and uninhibited.
“That’s it, bunny girl. Take my cock. You look so fucking beautiful like this, riding me like a good little slut,” Rick groans, his voice laced with lust and admiration. His hands grip your hips, guiding your movements, urging you on.
As you continue to bounce on him, your legs start to tire, the muscles burning with exertion. You can feel the sweat dripping down your back, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Rick notices your fatigue and stifles a laugh. “Aw, already tired, baby?” he teases, his calloused hands squeezing your shaky thighs.
You nod, a breathless whimper escaping your lips. “Yes, Daddy. I’m tired,” you admit, your voice soft and pleading.
“I’ll take care of you, my sweet little bunny,” he reassures as he flips you on your back, one hand rubbing your tummy. The head of his cock enters your wetness. “You just shut off your pretty head and let me do the work,” he says as he gives you a tender kiss on the temple.
“Let’s put you in the mating press, baby. The best way to get you pregnant,” Rick suggests and you nod weakly. He helps to push your hips up in the air and place your ankles on his broad shoulders. You turn your brain off obediently. And then he rams into you mercilessly, desperate to fill you up, give you the little baby bunnies you’re always asking for. “Ohh fuckkk!” you both moan at the same time.
Rick buries himself in you as deep as he can and starts rubbing lazy circles on your clit. He pounds into you, never stopping or slowing down, his breath heavy on your neck, trying to drown in your energy. You can feel him hitting that one special spot inside of you over and over again, stretching you out beautifully. “You-you feel s-so good, bunny-bunny girl,” Rick rasps brokenly, forehead against yours. Both of you are a mess now, sweating like crazy, horny with no end in sight. You’re practically sucking him in, primal instincts wanting all his body can offer.
“K-knock me-me up al-already!” you whine, nails scratching his muscular arms desperately. He thrusts even harder, opening your mouth with a strong grip to spit into it filthily. You swallow with another moan. “Bunny girl. Oh bunny, I’m-I’m gonna mate with you,” Rick groans softly, gaze catching yours. And soon enough you feel him tense up and let out groans, almost like an animal. A shudder going through him as he spills a hot rope of seed into your awaiting womb.
You’re close too, his praises only egging you further on, “sweet little, bunny. Gonna claim you, make you mine forever.” You feel something inside of you tense up, as if a burning coil just snapped. You release around him, just as his tip kissed that same spot again. Milking him dry to the last drop. Rick stays inside you, letting you take everything. It’s like your body just knows what to do, fertile womb taking all she needs.
You kiss again, but now more lovingly, he looks into your eyes, proud. Slowly pulling out of you, he takes a look at your hole and admires his work, rubbing and massaging your thighs. “Let’s make sure everything stays inside, sweetheart,” he says with a tender voice, no longer the rabid animal from before. Rick collects his seed, that’s about to leak out, with his big fingers and stuffs it inside of you. You shudder, still sensitive, not having recovered yet and he notices, shooting you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, bunny. Bred you too hard?”, he asks, a smug little smile accompanying his question.
You roll your eyes, the bratty edge slipping back into your posture. Rick only chuckles softly and gathers you into his arms, holding you close against his chest. His heartbeat is steady but still just a little too fast, a quiet reminder that he’s not as calm as he pretends to be.
He buries his face in your hair, breathing you in, brushing soft kisses across the crown of your head.
“Thank you, Rick,” you whisper, not entirely sure what you’re thanking him for. Maybe it’s his gentleness, the way he’s protective without being possessive. Maybe it’s because he sees a future with you, something like a family.
But whatever the reason, one truth settles deep inside you: you are loved.
✦ Leon S. Kennedy x Reader ✦ Rating: E ✦ Word Count: ~2,970 ✦
𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞:
A quiet night in with Leon Kennedy turns from takeout and domestic ease into something molten and intimate.
Warnings/Notes: 🔥 MDNI/NSFW, double penetration (cock + toy), toys, overstimulation, begging, filthy dirty talk, Leon being shamelessly horny.
The apartment still smells faintly like sesame and garlic from the takeout; a pair of empty cartons slumped on the counter beside a grease-blotted menu. Leon’s jacket is hooked over the back of the dining chair, he shed it on the way in, His boots sit by the door. A ring of cold condensation marking the coffee table, the amber bulb of the floor lamp painting the living room in a soft glow. The quiet clink of ice in his water glass as he brings it with him to the couch.
He lifts your legs without asking, sits back down with a low grunt of satisfaction, and drapes them back across his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His palm is warm on your bare skin, fingers idly tracing the curve of your calf as the television flickers, some crime drama neither of you are really watching. The dialogue blurs into background noise, the plot secondary to the weight of his hand, the way his thumb presses into the arch of your foot with just enough pressure to make you sigh and melt.
Another peaceful night in. The slow, hypnotic stroke of his fingers along your shin, your knee, the sensitive skin just above it. You’re draped against the cushions, head tipped back, eyes half-lidded and sleepy, and you don’t notice when his touch shifts from absent-minded to something with more intention until he lifts your leg higher, his grip firm around your ankle.
Leon kisses your ankle first, lips brushing the bone, the hollow just below it. His stubble rasps against your skin, a delicious scratch that makes your toes curl. His mouth travels up, kissing the inside of your knee with a soft press of his lips, then higher still, his breath hot against your thigh. The scruff of his jaw drags along the tender skin there, and you twitch involuntarily, a breathy gasp slipping out before you can stop it.
He hums low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your leg. “Sensitive tonight,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you, the tone that makes your stomach flip. His hand slides up to grip your thigh, fingers digging in just enough to hold you still as his mouth continues its slow, torturous ascent.
Every kiss, every scrape of his teeth, every exhale against your skin feels like it’s searing straight through your skin, branding you from the inside out.
When his mouth reaches the crease where your thigh meets your hip, you can’t help the way your hips lift, the way your breath hitches. He laughs softly, a dark knowing sound, and presses a kiss, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt on your skin
“Leon...” you breathe, and your hand tangles in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan.
He doesn’t stop. If anything, it spurs him on. His hands are everywhere now, gripping and kneading down your legs. Nothing compares to the heat of his mouth, biting down gently then soothing the sting with his tongue.
“Been thinking about this all day,” he admits, his voice muffled against your skin. “Sitting in that briefing, pretending to pay attention, and all I could think about was getting home.”
You catch his wrist before he can go in for another kiss to your thigh, your fingers trembling slightly as they wrap around the corded muscle of his forearm. Leon pauses, his eyes searching yours, that smug satisfaction melting into something more attentive and soft.
“Wait,” you breathe, your voice shaky but determined. “I've been thinking about this all day too...Can we… can we try the thing?”
For a beat, he just stares at you blankly, and then his expression shifts, surprise flickering across his features, followed immediately by something darker. His pupils dilate, his jaw tightening as he processes what you’re asking for. A slow, dangerous smile curves his lips.
“Yeah?” The word comes out rough and eager. “You sure?”
You nod, heat flooding your cheeks, but you don’t look away. “Yeah. I want to.”
“Fuck.” The word is barely more than a breath, and then he’s moving, scooping you up from the couch with an ease that makes you melt into his arms. Your arms loop around his neck as he carries you down the hallway, his grip firm under your thighs, his mouth finding yours in a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue and barely restrained desire.
He kicks the bedroom door open, sets you down on the edge of the bed with a gentleness that contrasts the fire in his eyes. You watch, pulse racing, as he straightens and strips off his shirt in one fluid motion, revealing the hard planes of his chest, the scars that map his skin like a history written in violence and survival.
His hands move to his belt, but he pauses, glancing at you with a raised brow. “Are you gonna get naked for me, baby.”
You startle when you realize that you've just been watching him undress. Your fingers fumble with the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, by the time you’re wriggling out of your underwear, Leon’s already at the bedside drawer, rummaging through it with purpose. He pulls out a dildo, sleek and silicone, not quite as thick as him but close, and a bottle of lube, setting both on the bed beside you.
He shucks his boxer briefs, his cock already hard and flushed, thick and heavy as it bobs against his stomach. The sight of him like this, naked and aroused, focused entirely on you, makes your mouth go dry.
Leon climbs onto the bed, his weight dipping the mattress, and his hands are on you immediately, spreading your thighs wide as he settles between them. “Gotta get you ready first,” he murmurs, his voice low, and then his fingers are sliding through your folds, testing your slickness, circling your entrance with maddening slowness.
“Leon,” you whimper, your hips rocking into his hand, chasing more friction.
“I know, baby. I know.” His free hand wraps around his cock, stroking himself in long, slow strokes as he watches his fingers circle your clenching hole, his jaw tight with restraint. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”
The first press of his finger inside makes your toes curl. “Uh—ah—” The sound slips out of you, and Leon’s eyes flick up, that ocean blue so focused on you it sends warmth throughout your body.
“That’s it,” he says, “Open for me.” He pushes to the first knuckle and holds there until your body melts around him, then deeper. When his second finger joins, your hips twitch up, a little whine clawing out of your chest. He pumps them in and out, curling them just right, his thumb brushing over your clit in lazy circles that have you squirming against the sheets.
“Nnnh—Le—on” and his mouth finds your knee again, kissing your trembling legs. “I’ve got you.” He curls his fingers just so, and your vision blurs and warmth spreads slow inside you, a warm glow that builds and builds. “You’re already fluttering,” he murmurs, voice turned to sandpaper. “So greedy.”
“Please,” you whisper, pulse a drumline in your throat. “Please, Leon.”
When he finally pulls his fingers free, you whine at the loss, but he’s already moving, positioning himself between your legs, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance. He rubs himself through your folds, coating himself in your slickness, teasing your clit with the blunt tip until you’re panting.
As he nudges the tip at your entrance slightly, your body clenches instinctively around nothing. He hushes you, thumb stroking your hip in a soothing rhythm, the low cadence of his voice rolling over you. Then he eases in slowly, and your hands fist in the duvet, breath trembling. “Oh—ohhh—”
His mouth is on your chest now, kissing and biting lightly, his breath hot on your skin. You cry out, your back arching off the bed, your hands scrabbling for purchase against his shoulders. He presses flush to you and your back arches hard. “Fuck. So tight already.” his forehead dropping to yours, his hips pulling back before snapping forward again, setting a steady rhythm that has you gasping with every thrust.
He fucks you like that for a few minutes, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks. You’re already teetering on the edge, but then he slows, his movements becoming shallow and teasing.
“You ready for more?” he asks, his voice strained, and you nod frantically, beyond words.
He reaches for the lube, popping the cap open with his thumb and drizzling it over the dildo, coating it thoroughly. The sight of him still buried inside you, preparing to add more makes your pulse speed up a drumbeat in your ears, a heady mix of anticipation and nerves coiling in your belly.
Leon pulls back slightly, giving himself room to work, and then he’s pressing the tip of the dildo against your entrance, right alongside his cock. The pressure is intense, and you gasp your body instinctively tensing. “It's okay, relax,” he breathes, and the word is a reassuring caress.
“Ah..ohh! fuck—” The toy fills you in a way that’s different than him, you force yourself to breathe and he pushes the dildo in slowly, the stretch burning, almost too much.
Your mouth falls open on a soundless scream as he works it deeper, both of them filling you in a way that’s overwhelming, bordering on unbearable. He pauses when your hands fly to his wrists gripping him, knuckles white, you're unsure if you were trying to stop him or have something to hold. “Easy it's alright keep your eyes on me,” he reminds you softly. “There we go.” His mouth finds your knuckles and kisses them. “You tell me when I can move.”
“More,” you whimper, eyes glassy. “More, I can—”
He gives you more, a slow stretch that builds to exquisite pleasure, it dredges a keening noise from somewhere deep within you when the toy finally bottoms out, your cunt kissing the flared base. His cock and the dildo together make you feel impossibly full, nerves firing like a constellation blinking on one star at a time.
“Oh god. oh fuck, Leon—” Your voice cracks and he groans, his hips jerking involuntarily. He shifts you higher on the bed with ridiculous ease, nudging your knees up, opening you wide, and the dildo stays in place.
“Holy shit,” Leon mutters, almost to himself, his breath shaking. “Look at you… Stuffed full.” He drags the toy out an inch, pushes it back with a twist, your eyes roll. “So fuckin’ pretty.” His voice drops.
You’re trembling outright now, there are tears in your eyes, spilling over down your cheeks, Leon’s thumb is there immediately, catching the first one before it can fall to your ear, before leaning in to press his mouth to yours. The kiss is languid, his tongues coaxing, and when he pulls back, he’s wearing that soft look that you love.
Once he has wiped your tears away, his cock is slotting in beside the toy with a pressure that pulls a sob from your throat.
“Ah—ahh—Le…Leon—” Your nails dig into his shoulders hard enough to leave half-moons.
“That’s it,” he whispers, kissing your top lip, then the bottom. “You’re doing so good, Baby. Taking both for me—mmh.”
You feel so full and he groans and pushes in another inch, pausing so you can really feel him. You flex around him and watch his eyes flutter and his jaw lock, his control slipping.
He holds the base of the toy resting between your thighs, drawing it out, before Leon’s hips roll forward, as the toy retreats and then again, and again. Each alternating thrust builds a pattern, pulse for pulse, depth for depth, until your mind loses sense of which fills you first. The sounds slip together, the wet slick, the smack of skin, the whisper of sheets gathering under your fingers.
The sensation of being so full turns your brain to white noise. “There we go,” he murmurs, each thrust punctuated with a kiss, the corner of your mouth, your cheekbone, your brow.
“Look how wet you are, baby. Makin' a mess all over me just from being stuffed full. You love it, don’t you?” He says filth in the gentlest tone, and somehow it makes the words dirtier.
You nod wildly, every muscle loose and tight at once. “Yes—yes—Jesus, Leon, don’t stop—”
“Not gonna,” he promises, and then his control slips, the careful pace he had built quickens, the pleasure becomes almost overwhelming. He braces a hand at the small of your back, tilting your hips upward and the angle of him beside the toy makes you cry out, a whine that he swallows with his mouth.
“There,” he hisses into the kiss, “That's the spot, huh?” He fucks you through it, a little rougher now, a steady thrust that sends the headboard tapping the wall in time.
“Ah—ah—ah—” The moans tumble out of you without permission, a string of helpless cries. You’re a mess, tears drying down your cheek, replaced by fresh ones. He catches them patiently, thumb sweeping, never missing a beat with his hips.
“Too much—” you gasp, not wanting to stop, but being so overwhelmed the words can’t help but slip out.
“Shh,” he croons, a filthy purr in your ear. “I know.” Every time the dildo sinks in, Leon draws out slowly, a wave of pleasure that rolls through your belly. Then his hips snap forward again harder, the impact vibrating through your body. Your hands shake, grip sliding from the sheets to the headboard to his shoulder, and he laughs affectionately.
your arms hook around his neck and you pull him down, he shudders, the next thrust harder and more savage, almost tapping against your cervix. He recovers pressing a kiss to your jaw in apology even as he drives in again. His hand slips under your ass to hold you open, thumb pressing at your clit, making you clench around him, as you see stars behind your eyes.
“There you go—” He nuzzles your cheek. The climax builds like a storm front, heat skittering up your spine, electricity coiling low each thrust. He whispers encouragement in your ear. “I’ve got you, come on,”
“Ohh...ngh—ah! Please, Leon—” It’s a frantic chant as you get closer and closer to the edge of your climax, and then It crashes over you so hard you go silent for a moment, mouth open, air in your longs gone, then sound returns. A broken sob of pleasure as your whole-body clamps down around him and the toy at once.
You squeeze so tight around him that he swears, his hips stuttering, and he rides you through it, thumb on your clit easing from circles to soothing strokes as your climax ripples and pulses in waves. “That’s it,” he murmurs, pressing lazy warm kisses all over your face. “So fuckin’ good, baby.”
"Nnnghh…" you moan, a soft puff of air into his shoulder, overstimulated as he continues to thrust shallowly, almost impossible for him to pull out as your cunt clenches tightly around him.
“Jesus.” He shifts his angle, slightly deeper, and your mouth falls open soundless, eyes rolling closed. He doesn’t hold back, despite how overstimulated you are, his hips slamming into you, the base of the toy nudging your clit with every thrust, his own control snapping. “Fuck, I’m gonna—” He cuts off the end of the sentence against your jaw, placing kisses and biting along the soft skin, rutting desperately to his own release.
You come again fast, your knees locking up around his ribs involuntarily, your nails dragging hot stripes down his back, and it’s the end of him. His breath stumbles, his thrusts go deeper and then he’s groaning, a drawn out and rough sound against your throat as he spills inside of you with a shudder, pressed so deep that it feels like you’re going to melt around him.
His heartbeat is thudding against your ribs where his chest fits to yours. Leon lays there chest to chest as he kisses your cheek and laughs softly, still out of breath. “Christ.”
“Jesus,” you wheeze back, and he kisses your mouth laughing softly, soothing you down gently from your high, with soft strokes over your hips and soothing little murmurs against your lips.
He presses his lips to your damp temple, before he finally pulls out both his cock and the toy slowly, watching your face for any discomfort. You sag into the mattress boneless arms falling above your head as you stretch out across the matress, sweaty and satisfied. He reaches for a towel, and cleans you with that same sweet thoroughness, kissing the inside of your knee.
When he stretches out beside you, he cups your face in one large hand, thumb brushing once more under your eye. You can’t stop smiling and he can’t help but touch you. He kisses you soft, and you inhale through your nose, breathing him in, the heat finally fading.
He pulls you into his chest, his heartbeat is a slow thump against your ear, as your head rises with his every slow inhale. The apartment is quiet now, your breathing evens, his mouth finds your hair and he murmurs, “Next time, we should try the wand, too.”
“I-I don't think I will survive...,” you look up at him through your lashes and murmur against his throat, smile audible.
He laughs his arm tightening around you, as he kisses your temple.
✦┈┈┈┈┈⛧┈┈┈┈┈┈✦ 𝖆 𝖓 𝖔 𝖙𝖊✦┈┈┈┈┈⛧┈┈┈┈┈┈✦
Day 20 is done, hope you enjoyed!
happy early thanksgiving, hope you like being stuffed like a turkey dinner lol (Leon is such a freak and i love him for it).
okay, but on a more serious note, I don't mean to vent buuuut. I wasn’t really feeling great today, almost didn’t get this one out. i’ve been pushing myself a bit too hard lately (I've literally been writing non stop, staying up way too late writing when I have work in the morning, plus my chronic illness flaring up), so i’m a little drained. but honestly, all your sweet feedback and comments keep me going.
At the end of the day, i’m just doing this for fun! writing these fics make me happy, and seeing you all enjoy them makes it even better. I hope I can continue to make stuff for you guys to enjoy.
Thanks for reading, it means the world!
໒꒰ ྀིっ˕ -｡ ྀི꒱১ ♡
…𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘 𝕯𝖆𝖞 ✦✧✦ 𝕹𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝕯𝖆𝖞...
✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦ 𝖊𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖋𝖎𝖑𝖊 ✦ see you in the next life ✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦
This post was brought to you by BUNI ✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦
Warnings: workplace sexism and discrimination, references to ptsd, physical intimidation, violence, no smut (yet hehe)
Summary: A young agent is forced to train Leon S. Kennedy, a rookie hailed as a hero after Raccoon City. While he’s instantly respected, she’s had to fight for every ounce of recognition. Their rivalry ignites with tension, arrogance, and unspoken attraction.
Working for the U.S. government came with its challenges and sacrifices.
Being nineteen and working for a covert branch of national security was almost unheard of.
People didn’t say it out loud but you could feel it in every glance, every second guess, every condescending remark aimed to cut through your discipline.
You were too young, too inexperienced, a liability, a woman.
The last part didn’t sting like it used to. You’d stopped trying to earn their approval a long time ago. You were good at what you did, really fucking good. You hadn’t been handed your clearance; you’d earned it. Through brutal hours of training, through mistakes that could’ve gotten you killed, through the steel exterior you’d learned to wear like armor.
There was no room for doubt in this line of work. No space for softness. Hesitation was just another way to die.
Then he showed up.
Just two years after you'd clawed your way into the ranks as a junior agent, another recruit walked in. Young. Fresh. A little too clean-cut for the work. Barely out of Raccoon City, with more trauma than training.
His name: Leon S. Kennedy.
He wasn’t like you. He never had to prove himself. Didn’t get side-eyed during briefings or second-guessed in the field.
No, when people looked at him, they didn’t see a kid.
They saw a hero.
They whispered about natural instincts and destiny, like he was the goddamn messiah they’d all been waiting for.
He didn’t get tested. He got trusted.
You weren’t rivals by choice. The system made you that way.
It rewarded him for surviving. It punished you for existing.
You hadn’t expected to see him before the first formal briefing.
But there he was, in the hallway. His tall frame and civilian clothes stood out against the sterile, clinical walls of the facility. He walked with that loose, unbothered ease you only ever saw in people who had nothing to prove.
And yet, there was a sharpness in his gaze. A weight behind it. Like someone who’d seen the end of the world and made it out alive. You’d expected a shell-shocked rookie. What you found was a man.
And damn it, he was good-looking.
The hallway stretched out in taut silence, the faint echo of his footsteps growing louder as he approached. He stopped a few feet away, meeting your eyes with a calm, deliberate intensity, like he was already sizing you up.
Not just sizing you up. Enjoying it. There was something in his gaze, slow, confident, almost daring, that made your chest tighten. Not just pressure. A flicker of something else. A silent challenge wrapped in an unreadable expression that made your skin prickle.
“You’re [L/N], right?” he asked. His voice was low, smooth, almost casual, but with an edge to it. Not a greeting. Not an introduction. A statement.
You nodded, keeping your face unreadable, refusing to flinch. His smirk appeared slowly, the corner of his mouth ticking upward in that cocky, self-assured way that already rubbed you the wrong way. “I’ve heard you’re the best,” he said. “The one they picked to make me combat-ready.”
A flicker of tension ran through you, but you held steady. Inside, your pulse jumped. There was something in the way he looked at you, curious, maybe even a little impressed. Or maybe just calculating. Like he was deciding if you were a threat or prey.
“Funny,” he continued, stepping in just a little closer, voice dropping lower. More intimate. More dangerous. “Because I plan on taking your place.”
You blinked, breath catching. Not from fear. From the chill that ran down your spine and the unspoken heat in the air.
His smirk deepened, gaze gleaming with that same quiet arrogance. Something sharp. Something amused. Something almost interested.
“Don’t take it personally, doll,” he said in a condescending tone. “Just business.” Then, after a beat, “…but maybe a little more.”
The conference room was full, agents gathered around the long table as the director entered, followed closely by someone who didn’t belong yet somehow already looked like he owned the place.
"Let’s welcome a very special someone to our team,” she said, stopping at the head of the room.“Mr. Leon Kennedy. I’m sure you’ve all heard his incredible story by now.”
A few people chuckled. Others nodded, eyes lighting up with recognition.
Of course they’d heard. Raccoon City. The rookie cop who made it out alive.
Leon gave a small, almost sheepish nod, but you saw through it. That wasn’t humility. That was practiced modesty. He knew exactly how the room saw him.
His eyes swept across the table. Casual. Confident.
Then they landed on you and stayed. Heavy eye contact. Too long to be professional. Too direct to ignore.
His lips curved into the faintest smug smile, like he already knew you were the one who wouldn’t clap for him. The one who wasn’t buying the hero act.
He moved down the line, shaking hands, grinning, charming, coasting on the wave of whispered admiration.
Then he reached you.
You stood because you had to. Because not doing so would’ve meant letting him have the upper hand before he even opened his mouth.
He extended his hand. You took it. And immediately regretted it.
His grip closed around yours like a vice. Firm. Deliberate. And just a little too hard. Not enough to bruise, but enough to hurt. Enough to make a point.
You clenched your jaw, forcing your expression to remain perfectly still.
You would not pull away. You would not flinch.
His smirk deepened.
“Agent [L/N],” he said smoothly, voice just loud enough for you to hear over the quiet room. “Looking forward to seeing what you’ve got.”
You pulled your hand back the moment he let go, resisting the urge to flex your fingers.
Then, the director again. “Agent [L/N], you’ll begin combat certification with Kennedy starting tomorrow. 0600. He’s expected to be ring-ready in two weeks.”
You barely had time to react before Leon let out a soft, amused sound, more exhale than laugh. “Hope you’re a morning person,” he said.
You stared at him, unblinking. “Hope you’re fast.”
His smirk faltered just slightly. Just enough to tell you that one landed.
Tomorrow you’d be in the ring. And for once you'd have permission to hit him.
You couldn’t wait.
A/n:
Omg hey guys, I can’t believe it’s been over six months since I last posted a story😭 Life has been crazy, I’ve been traveling a lot these past few months, but now that uni’s started, I’m finally settling down a bit and should be able to update more regularly again.
I just wanted to say thank you for sticking around, and for making these past five years on Tumblr so special. 💞
hello i am fiending for college nerd perv!Leon Kennedy
I ♡ HOT NERDS.ᐟ — Leon Kennedy x YOU! — SMUT!
TAGS: fem bodied reader, blowjobs, lots of pussy eating, pussydrunk leon, no fr hes so whipped for you here, mentions of getting off to your underwear, study buddied to fuck buddies to bff's to lovers, unprotected sex, mentions of sex toys, semi-public fucking, some bad words too
NSFW UNDER THE CUT!
college nerd! leon crushes on you first. you're so sweet, so kind, and was a good friend all in all. during class, he finds himself staring at you while the professor yaps away. you two became friends after he offered to help you with chemistry, the only class you shared with, and after he spotted your failing mark.
you've been closer—inseparable, actually—ever since, always talking, texting, calling the other. he was always over at your place, just like how you were always over at his. your grades have significantly gotten better, too, a perk of being friends with him, he says.
college nerd! leon who always brings over food at your place. he rarely ever orders for himself, always for two. he knows all your favourites. your go-to snacks, how you like your coffee, and even your preferences. you've asked him once how he has it memorized, and he just shrugged. when you blurt out that you're hungry, leon will come knocking at your door.
“you didn't have to!”
“well, i wanted to,”
leon closes the door behind him, and you come rushing to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “you're the best, leon!” you'd chirp, and leon feels his cheeks heat up. you link your arm arm around him as you drag him inside.
“okay, what should we do. do we wanna watch a movie?”
college nerd! leon watches you more than he watches the shitty movie you've set up. you're nicely curled up to him, a blanket nicely resting atop your warm bodies. plus, he had a nice view of your chest, too. if he could stay like this forever, he would. unfortunately, he needed to get up and go to the bathroom. it hurt poking you and watching you settle on the other side of the couch.
college nerd! leon likes the way your apartment looks. it just screamed . . you. the posters, the decor. cuter than he's envisioned. even your laundry was wasn't a sight for sore eyes, only the pink, cotton pair of panties catching his attentio—
he swallows nervously.
college nerd perv! leon had to slap a palm over his mouth, trying to keep his noises down as his roommates were still sleeping. he had the same pink panties wrapped around his cock as he fucked his fist. this was depraved. he shouldn't . . but somehow, the thrill only made it better. he can't believe he's actually getting off to this, to your fucking underwear.
god, he's such a pervert.
you're one of the few people that actually listens to college nerd! leon's yapping. something about this new comic that came out, or a fun fact about this video game, and even though you didn't understand what it was, you always listened, watching him. sometimes caressing his leg with your own shoe.
but college nerd! leon's oblivious to your advances. cuddling with him, holding hands with him, being touchy with him, and sometimes purposefully wearing the skimpiest clothing you had when he was over—he was very clueless, and you wondered if he even liked you.
today, you'll find out.
you're over at his place, watching him as he showed you his "nerd haul", as you called it. a bunch of figurines, some new comic books, and you were simply letting him talk, showcasing his stuff excitedly.
"mhm? what's that one about?"
you asked, glancing over at him as he explained it all to you. blah blah blah, batman and catwoman, blah blah blah. you couldn't really focus on what he was saying when he looked so fucking good and so fucking kissable.
"mhm?"
leon stops mid-yap as he feels your hand rest atop his groin. "y, y/n?" he looks over at you with wide eyes. he looked cute, 'specially with glasses. "go on . . " you cooed, and you watch his adam's apple bob as he swallowed nervously.
"s, so . . um . . "
his breath hitches in his throat as he watches you settle on the ground, between his legs; your hands eager to get his cock out from his trousers. you only hummed, letting his half-erect cock spring out, and god, how does he keep that . . weapon in his shorts?!
your tongue drags up the shaft, feeling it slowly twitch and harden, and leon was completely speechless. "h, haah . . y/n," he whined, setting down the comic back on the table as he leaned back. your wet muscle teased the tip, tasting his pre.
"do you like this, leon?"
fuuuuck . . you were so hot talkin' while your tongue was out. it comes out as barely intelligible gibberish, but leon understood anyway, nodding as he looked down at you through his spectacles. "do you want me to stop?" he quickly shook his head. "use your words," you muttered, and leon whines. "n, no. i don't want you to stop,"
usin' your hands, you lather your spit all over his girth, feeling the veins under your palm. fuck, he's so hot. you've barely started and he was already panting like a dog in heat.
slowly, his girth enters your mouth. it's warm, and so damn fucking good leon could just bust a nut. he wants to prolong this. was this real? were you really blowing him?
"please, y/n," he pleads, and you only glance up at him. "hm?" you chuckled, and the subtle rumble makes him gasp. "l—let me . . let me fuck your throat," he whined, hips bucking up uncontrollably.
"mhm . . "
that was enough for leon, grabbing both sides of your head and filling your throat to the hilt with just one push down. you gagged, spit coating his shaft and balls. it didn't take long for him to start vigorously fucking your throat, the crown of his fat cock always meeting with the back of your throat.
the room is filled with lascivious noises—sounds of you gagging and the squelch of your filthy mouth plus leon's mewls. he only held his gaze low, eyes never breaking away from yours.
you bring your hands up, caressing his body and palming at his thighs. tears were swellin' up in your eyes, and leon loved how your waterline glistened. he wondered just how long would it take to mess up your mascara.
it felt good, so fucking good. his balls are aching to let out this load in your throat, but he can't. not yet. it takes everything in college nerd perv! leon to stop bobbin' your head up and down, pulling his cock out from your throat so you could breathe.
"w, why?" you pant. "not yet," he was, too. chests heaving. "c'mere," his body leans forward, and his hand gently ensnares your jaw, pulling you in for a kiss. he could taste himself on you.
college nerd perv! leon lays you down on his couch, and he was settled in between your legs; arms hooked around your thighs and not even bothering to pull down your panties. he's salivating from just the sight of your cunt, nicely outlined by the cotton. he can't help but just—
"h, hnng! leon!"
his tongue's dragging up your slit, kissing and tasting the cloth while leon fumbled with the hem of your skirt. you lift your hips up, and leon slowly pulls it, his kisses trailing down your inner thighs to your calves.
"you're so beautiful . . "
college nerd perv! leon eats pussy as a sport. he's obsessed with how your taste and smell jus' completely engulfs him. doesn't fuckin' care if you've shaved or not, he'll devour it no matter what.
your clit's all puffy from how much he's been suckin' on it, and his hair's all messed up from how hard you've been tugging on it. he doesn't seem to mind, however, only grunting as his glasses fogged up.
"oh my gooood . . leon," your toes curl, and leon grinds against the couch. "close, 'm close—!" you subconsciously close your legs on him, trapping him in place and—
leon whimpers with a mouthful of cunt, an orgasm washing over him as he kept grinding his cock on the couch. another suckle from him, and you're fucking spraying him again, squealing as your back arched.
oh, and he also eats ass.
college nerd perv! leon always prioritizes your orgasms first. nice guys finish last, he's read. he's been nice to you, right? he's been a good boy for you, just for you, right?
needless to say, you went from study buddies to fuck buddies quick.
you'd have quickies in the bathroom, in the storage room. leon would test out these new sex toys with and on you, too. including a lovense whilst you were in class, and he would randomly turn it on at any hour, letting you know that he was thinking of you.
sometimes you're making out in the gymnasium, or maybe in the rooftops, as long as it was private.
it seriously gave you whiplash how much of a pervert leon actually was. you didn't think he was, but you know what they say. it's always the quiet ones. and it was never boring with him, as he tried a lot of things with you both sexually and non-sexually.
his favourite? putting you on a dildo machine and lettin' it ram you 'til you were fucking stupid.
college nerd perv! leon loved to grope you, too; especially in public. your ass was mostly the victim of this, especially when the jocks who eyed you were around. they always do a double-take, because how could the shy, quiet nerd pull a baddie like you?
leon was possessive too, as you've discovered.
because when he's fucking rearranging your guts, he's always askin' you who do you belong to, and you?
well.
"yours! i'm yours!"
you cried out as leon pounded your pretty cunt. "mine," he whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist and leaning down to bite your neck. your chest had all sorts of hickeys, and you're not surprised. he loved to mark you.
his cock stretches you out so fucking nicely, and nothing compares to the pleasure you give leon. it was probably the highlight of his day, being buried balls deep inside you. gooodddd . . you felt so good.
his balls kept clappin' against your ass, and your cunt just nicely sucked him back in while you coated his length with translucent slick, aaaall the way down to its base.
as his orgasm neared, he lets a thumb roll over your clit so you could both cum together. you screamed, letting your eyes roll back in bliss. "leon . . l, leon—gonna cum. 'm cumming,"
leon picks up his pace as best as he could, even when his hips were burning with fatigue. you deserved it. his pretty girl deserved everything.
"gonna cum too, y/n . . love you, love your fucking cunt,"
the confession goes over your head as you were busy being in cloud nine, and after a few pumps, you're gushing all over him whilst he floods your pretty pussy with his load.
college nerd perv! leon cums a lot. a lot. you don't know why or how, but he just does. you're always left overspilling whenever he creampied you.
"did you mean it?"
leon had a strong arm wrapped around your frame, your back pressed nicely against his chest. "mean what?" he whispered back, a thumb caressing your sides. "that . . you loved me?" you look back at him, and leon lifts his head just so your lips could meet briefly.
"of course i did,"
your eyes widen at the sudden confession, but you were happy. you lace your fingers with him, gradually laying over to your back so he could hover over you kiss you more.
college nerd! leon always gives the best aftercare. you're given water, massages, kisses, everything. you reciprocate it too, of course; covering him in kisses and holding him for as long as he needed.
you were already expecting college nerd! leon to be your boyfriend. he was everything and more you've imagined. flowers more often than you can count, orgasms everyday, a real gentleman, and plus he was so obsessed with you. his social media handles have zero posts, but all of them had you and him as his profile pictures. you couldn't have asked for anyone better.
god, best boyfriend in the world.
college nerd! leon, however, never expected you to be his girlfriend, even though the signs were all there. he's glad you are. you make him happy. the happiest. you were the only person who understood him and accepted him for all his quirks and "weirdness." not to mention also matching his freak.
unlike most, you were actually interested in the things that he liked, sometimes playing his games too even though you sucked and he always carried you. whatever it was, as long as he liked it, you would like it, too. and plus, a week after he had you as his girlfriend, people were complimenting him on how he was glowing.
author’s note: Hi! First RE writing, I hope you’ll like it! Chris is my biggest love, so of course the first writing is his(and there is not enough Chris writing out there!).
word count: 2,8k
pairing: Chris Redfield x fem!reader
warnings: SMUT(mdni!), enemies to lovers, office sex, protected sex, dirty talk, manhandling, powerplay, oral(fem receiving), alcohol, fighting and swearing.
summary: Chris hates the new recruit. Why? He doesn’t even know, until his friend makes his eyes open up. One morning, when he sees her, he decided to take matters into his own hands and show her not to mess with him.
───୨ৎ───────୨ৎ──────୨ৎ────
It was no secret that Captain Redfield hated the new recruit. Most would believe that he hated her because she wasn’t good enough, wasn’t cut for the job, or maybe she might have been a massive bitch. However, none of these could be said about (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She was good, cut for the job and a good person. So why did the Captain hate her so much?
Chris decided to pick up a bottle of liquor after work, so he could wallow in his apartment, surrounded by his own pity. He quickly shed his work clothes, took a shower and lounged on the couch with the bottle of whiskey. Every single thoughts of his were about her.
She quickly picked up his distaste towards her, so she became sassy and sharp-tongued towards him. Technically, the rule was to always respect your superior, but exceptions could always be made. As the weeks went by, their relationship intensified, especially when they got partnered up for training. Both of them were furious, and tried to change it, but the director didn’t let them. “Look, your strengths and weaknesses match up perfectly. And my decision is final.” That made both of them sigh in disappointment.
The hours went by and before they knew it, they were standing in the gym of the base. They were supposed to help each other out, but they decided to make it harder for each other. Chris was lifting heavy weights, and Y/N stood beside him, counting how much he lifted. It pretty much went like…
“One. Two. Two. Three. Four. Four. Four.”
Chris put the weight on it’s stand and scoffed at Y/N. “That’s not how you count, sweetheart.”
“It’s not my fault you don’t pull them down deep enough.” And that’s how the first of many arguments started.
Then, it was time to practice combat. They circled around in the ring like lions. They began fighting, and they did not go easy on each other. Chris’ lip was split and Y/N’s nose was bleeding, due to great timed punches. The more they fought, the more aggressive they became. Their skin was shining with sweat, their hair was messed up and their training clothes twisted around their bodies. After a while, when Chris thought he managed to tire her out, Y/N jumped at him and managed to get him on his back with a flip. The sound of a loud thud was followed by a choked groan, Y/N pressed her foot into his throat. The silence was filled with both of them breathing heavily. After a minute of silence, their phones rang at the same time, indicating the end of their training. She took her foot away and collected her stuff. Just before she stepped out the door, she looked back at Chris, whose eyes followed every move of her’s and whose body was still laid on the floor. She smirked and winked. “Looking forward to our next training, sweetheart.” With those words, she left, leaving the Captain alone with his shame. Not just because a young woman, who was at least ten years younger than him, managed to throw him on the floor. But, because his pants were tight, due to his rock-hard dick straining against the fabric.
After the shameful session of standing under ice cold water for fifteen minutes, Chris decided to call his friend over. He needed someone to talk to.
Leon was sitting at his dining table an hour later, both of them nursing on glasses filled with vodka. Leon was the first to break the silence.
“So, will you tell me what’s up your ass lately, or are we going to sit in silence for hours?” Chris acted weird lately, always deeply pondering and zoning out. “Is it something, or someone?” Leon could read Chris like a goddamn book.
“There’s a new recruit at the BSAA.” The bulky man said it as if it was the biggest problem in the whole wide world.
“…and? Is she a clumsy one?”
“What makes you think it’s a she?” Leon just raised one of his eyebrows, Chris knew he was cornered. “No. She’s… good, great even. She has combat skills, flexibility, reflexes, everything.” He downed his drink in one go and already poured another.
“That means you’ll have a great soldier on the team. I don’t see the problem.” Chris had this guilty look on his face. His silence told Leon the entire situation. “Oh, I see…”
“Oh, please, you have no idea.”
Leon only chuckled. “Let me share my theory.” He cleared his throat. “You are not mad at the girl, you are mad at the things she makes you feel. She is everything you ever wanted, no? And you need to take one look at her to get very aroused. But, you are afraid that the situation is too complicated, and that these feelings will stand in the way of your precious work.” The blonde’s smug face became ever more smug when he was how Chris nearly had his jaw on the floor. Of course his best friend had him all figured out.
“How the fuck did you actually know that?!” Chris said as soon as his words found him again.
“I was in the same situation years ago.” Leon said, referring to the dark-haired woman in Raccoon City many years ago.
“Sooo… What the hell should I do? She hates my guts.” He buried his face in his palms.
“Does she?” Leon got a nod for answer. “Does she dress nicely?” Nod. “All dolled up, everyday?” Nod. “And somehow you two cross paths everyday?” Another nod. “She likes you, man.”
“You really think so?”
“Of course. How old is she?” Asked Leon.
“Nearly ten years younger than us.” Chris hissed as he said it.
“So, what? You’re both adults. And younger women tend to like older men. They are attracted to the experience, and sometimes… They need a real man to take care of them.” Leon poured another round and held up his glass, so Chris could clink their glasses together. “I say, make a move on her.”
“What if she says no?” He was overthinking, as always.
“Then she says no. At least you tried, and you had enough courage to do so. But, I don’t think she’ll say no. She is waiting for you to make a move.”
After that, other topics were discussed. However, Y/N still lingered in the back of Chris’ mind.
The next day, they had no scheduled training. Chris had a little plan of his, a smooth way to ask her out, however… The plan flew right out the window when he saw her. He felt his anger boiling. She was walking around in a low-cut blouse and the tightest pencil skirt he ever saw. Every swell and curve of her ass was visible. She was standing in front of his office, smoking a cigarette by the window. He wasn’t thinking clearly, so he walked up to her, grabbed her wrist and yanked her into his office. He turned back to lock his door, and then he leaned against him. She just sat up on his desk and smiled at him.
“Wow, having a rough mor—-“ she began saying slyly, before he cut her off.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” His voice was furious. She just raised a questioning eyebrow. “Walking around the base like that?! Have you lost your mind?” He walked closer to her, he was nearly yelling, before realizing that anyone could walk in front of the door.
“Remind me. How does my clothing choices involve you?” She just crossed her legs, the fabric rid up and showed off her toned legs.
“Do you want every man in the building to drool on you? Do you want their attention on you? You want them to see everything that is not theirs?”
She only shrugged and Chris stepped right before her. Their faces are only inches away, when he spoke, she could feel his warm minty breath on her lips.
“Do you want them to think you dress for them?” He leaned even closer. “When we both know that it’s me you dress for.” He said boldly.
Her smirk got even more evident. “Don’t flatter yourself so much, Captain.” She hadn’t tried moving away.
They were both becoming more lightheaded and confident, how could they not when they were basking in each other’s scents?
“You didn’t deny.”
She slipped off the desk and began walking towards the door. He immediately caught her wrist, but before he could blink, she turned both of them around and pushed him against the door. He was looking at her lips like a man starved, and who was she to deny him? In a quick movement, she connected their lips and they let out a sigh of relief.
His hands flew to her waist to pull her closer, and her fingers tangled in his short hair. Their kiss became more and more intense. Soon enough, the only thing that was heard in his office was the dance of tongues and clashing of teeths.
He tapped her ass and she jumped into his arms. His palms held her ass, he blindly walked to the desk and put her down.
She broke their kiss, so for a few moments, they just stared at each other. Processing what just happened and looking for the permission to go further. God, she looked so hot, her lips glistening with saliva, her hair all messed up and her face flushed from lack of breath. He must have been in the same state.
They nodded at each other and clever fingers began pulling clothes away. While his hands untucked her blouse, her fingers sneaked under his turtleneck and up his back, only to pull it off him in one fast move. He mirrored her actions by lifting her blouse over her head. His lips kissed the top of her breasts, which was rewarded by a breathy moan from her. He also pushed her skirt upwards, so it was wrinkled around her waist, with her panties on full display. He groaned at the sight of her, he just wanted to eat her up. Of course she had to walk around with lacy underwear under her clothes, now everytime Chris looks at her, that will be the only thing he will be able to think about.
“You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.” He said, it caused her to smile.
“You’re not too shabby yourself, Captain.”
He chuckled and dropped to his knees. His fingers wrapped around the waistband of her panties, the scent of her pussy filled his nostrils and made his mouth water. “Will you let me get a taste of you?” She could feel his hot breath at her inner thigh.
“Please, do.”
With the green light given. He nearly tore the panties off and dived right between her legs. The second his lips came in contact with her cunt, she moaned quietly, her hands flew to his hair. “You taste so fucking amazing, sweetheart. All this for me?”
She whined and tried to push his face into her, but he wouldn’t let her until she said it. “Y-yes, all for you, Captain…”
“Good girl.” His lips quickly found her clit and he began suckling, flicking and tracing around. He did that for a bit, his chin was soaked with her wetness, so he decided to give her clenching hole some attention too. He pushed his tongue into her and he felt her legs twitch. He then switched back to her clit and teased her entrance with his finger. He fingered her and immediately began nudging her g-spot.
“I-I’m close!” He wouldn’t deny her, of course. So, he sped up the movement of his lips and fingers. A second later, she came all over his face and had to bite into her arm to muffle her sinful sounds. He drew out her orgasm as long as he could and when she pushed his head away from her cunt from overstimulation.
He licked his lips with a wicked look on his face, while she tried catching her breath.
As soon as she did. She straightened up and began unbuttoning his pants. She got him out of his boxers and gasped. Her hands wrapped around his rock hard cock, it was so big and thick. His tip was dripping precum constantly, he just couldn’t wait to be inside of her. He felt hot in her hands, and she could feel every throb of his.
She hopped off the desk to drop to her knees, but with a hand on her chin, he stopped her. “No, I cannot wait a minute more, I need to be inside you.” With a swift motion, he turned her around and pushed the front of her body on the table.
He could have blown his load right then and there, her ass and pussy was all on display for him, her hole clenched and waited for him, only him. She suddenly reached into her bra and pulled out a condom, he took it gratefully and rolled it on himself. “Why do you—?”
“Better to be prepared.” He chuckled and whispered a quiet “True”.
He held his cock by the base and the other caressed her back.
With one motion, he slipped inside her, which caused them both to groan. She was so wet that she immediately welcomed her in. He tried to be gentle, but the more she tightened around him, the more he lost control.
Before they knew it, he was pounding into her with an impressive speed. His hands were tangled in her hair, so he could pull her back to his chest. Both of his arms were around her hips to steady himself. She was struggling to keep her moans back, so one of his hands left her hips and two of his fingers were put in her mouth. “Shh, you wouldn’t want everyone to hear how much you love getting fucked by your superior, now do you?” She only shook her head.
After a bit, he pulled out and sat her up on the desk. The second she felt his cock leave her, she whined, which got her a hand wrapped around her throat. “Don’t be greedy. You’ll take what I give you, whenever I do.” He could feel her walls clenching around him, so she was into powerplay? Maybe, but what he did know, is that she looked absolutely divine this way. His arms holding her legs up, her tits in the bra bouncing with his every thrust. This time, he shut her up by claiming her lips with his own, to which she immediately complied. Their tongues twirled, and their moans drowned in each other’s mouth.
She blindly reached for his hand and put it on her neglected clit. He immediately started rubbing her in small circles, and her legs jerked from the extra stimulation. “Have you wanted this to happen, sweetheart?” He said, and she nodded quickly. “Put on your tight little clothes every morning, hoping that I’ll whisk you away to fuck you stupid?”
“Y-yes, Captain!” She whimpered as he began kissing her neck.
“But, you still beat the shit out of me in training?” He said to her slyly and she chuckled.
“Consider it as foreplay.” She threw her head back, to give him more to kiss.
“Mhm, but you’re a good girl.” He cooed to her, and it made her nearly melt under him. “You just need someone to take care of you, hm?”
“Yes, yes! I’m about to—OH!” She pulled her nails across his back, which brought him to the edge.
“Go ahead, sweetheart. Come all over my cock.”
They managed to fall over the edge at the same time, and her walls just kept milking him dry. They took a few minutes to catch their breaths.
He gently pulled out of her and helped her on her wobbly feet. He tied the condom and threw it out. He had some tissues in his desk so he cleaned her and himself up. She was reaching for her panties, when he suddenly snatched. “Mine.”
She pouted. “That’s my favorite pair.”
“I’ll buy you a hundred more.” He said, and that satisfied her enough.
She gave him one last kiss and made her way to the door. She turned around just before she left. “See you at training tomorrow?”
“Of course. And don’t plan on bringing another favorite pair of panties.” He said as he sat down, after all, the paperwork won’t do itself.
She sighed, but giggled. “Fuck you.” She waved and left his office.
“You sure will.” He whispered to himself. He leaned back into his chair and got started on the files.
—♡ leon has successfully been able to restrain his desires for you until you bent over in front of him, revealing a part of you that he deeply craved.
—♡ warnings: pervy best friend leon, reader is kinda bimbo coded, feminine reader, dom!leon, manhandling, teasing, oral sex (reader recieving), mentions of rough sex.
“why don’t you like my teddy bears?” you asked, arms crossed with a pout as you stare at your best friend. he stares back at you, his muscled body resting against your white bed frame.
“i don’t hate them i just don’t see why you care about them so much. they’re not rea-”
“leon!” you cut him off, a look of genuine terror on your face. which makes him chuckle.
you were too cute for words. your sweet personality making his heart gush. as it always does.
you captured his heart so effortlessly. you were pure, so delicate. in every possible way. he couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander to the dark side. he felt so disgusting and tried so hard to keep them in check. but oh god, it was so fucking hard. especially when you were prancing around your bedroom in tiny sleep shorts, smooth thigh highs that hugged your soft legs in the most intoxicating way, white tank tops which were borderline see-through. showing the outline of your perky breasts and nipples. and here you were now, you kneeled next to him on the bed. dressed in exactly that. he felt like a fucking animal, wanting to destroy every ounce of purity that radiated from you.
he wasn’t stupid, he knew you liked him more than just a friend. always finding himself enamored by the way your cheeks tinted pink every time he touched you, or called you pretty, or rested his large hand on your soft squishy thighs. just above where your cute little thigh highs sit. he couldn’t possibly help but think how pretty your pussy would be.
fuck leon, quit it. take your time with her. he’d think to himself.
he can’t quite recall when his forbidden feelings had exceeded a platonic level, all he knew is that he wanted you. needed you. the days would go by where he didn’t make a move and felt himself growing more and more sadistic towards you.
“well, you don't need to cuddle this little thing tonight. you've got me, yeah?” he says, carelessly throwing your cute little plushie on the floor. an overly dramatic gasp escaping your mouth.
“leon, that's not funny. you're so mean. you have to be gentle with them,” you say softly as you move down the mattress to retrieve the beloved little bunny, bending your body off the edge of the bed. as the front half of your body disappeared, leon looked. wanting to get a glimpse of as much as he could without you noticing his devious gaze. but what he wasn’t expecting to see was your bare cunt on full display before his eyes. his breath hitched as his thoughts ran wild.
do you always forget to wear underwear when he's around? why hasn't he noticed this before? is this an invitation?
he couldn’t help but stare. you looked so so soft. eyes locked onto your entrance. swearing he could see it glisten. he gulps, saliva filling his hungry mouth at the thought of fucking you open with his tongue.
“fuck…” he mutters a little too loudly, causing you to turn around. still bent over to retrieve your plushie.
“what’s wrong, lee?” you ask, your pretty doe eyes looking into his with wonder. “are you feeling ok?”
god, you really and no fucking idea what you were doing.
“you… you’re a little fuckin’ tease aren’t you?” he hisses, grabbing your hips as if you were a rag doll and forcing you to lay down on your bed. hair splaying across your silky pillows. he was hovering over you now, you felt like you were drowning under his large frame.
“w-what are you talkin about, leon? i-” you attempt.
“‘i-… i-… what are you talking about, leon?’” he mocks, a sadistic smirk on his face. “you’re not fooling me, doll,” he moves his large hand down to your cunt, resting it over your thin sleep shorts. gasping as the warmth of his skin laid against your most precious area. “did you forget to wear your panties today like a silly little dits?”
“n-no, just wanted to be comfy. didn’t do it on purpose,” you look into his eyes as you plead, precious little pout on your lips.
oh god, he was going to fucking ruin you.
“is that right?” he asks, biting his lip. you nod your head. he doesn’t say anything as he moves down your body, forcing your thighs open as he settles between them. his toned stomach resting against your frilly duvet. he then pulls your bottoms to the side, revealing your glistening pussy to his properly. “then why is your needy little cunt dripping for me?”
“i.. leon i just-” you spoke, being cut off by your own gasp as he pulls down your shorts and throws them carelessly to the side. you blush, nobody had ever seen you like this before. your legs instinctively begin to close, but he effortlessly pulls them open again.
“wanted to see this precious little pussy of yours for years, don’t even think about hiding it from me now,” you whimper at his words. recalling the countless nights you spent alone, whining his name into your pillows to the thought of his rough fingers touching you there. and now, it was finally happening.
your head was spinning.
you weren’t naive, you knew about sex. what your sexual preferences were and what you desired, but you’d never actually done anything before. he knew that, he’s your best friend.
of course he knew.
he leans in, pressing his nose to your clit and inhaling your essence deeply. taking in your scent. it was feral, but your pussy clenched around nothing at his action. he hums, saliva filling his mouth as he prepares to taste you for the first time.
he could no longer resist and licked a rough stripe from your hole to your needy clit, the unfamiliar feeling causing a small gasp to escape your lungs. but oh god, did it feel good.
“leon…” you whine as he kisses your clit softly, and then again, and then again. legs trembling pathetically with each kiss. the sound of you whimpering his name sent him into a feral state, his tongue messily tracing along each crevice of your cunt. his pretty nose poking your clit in the most heavenly way.
“oh… oh, leon,” you whimper out, your trembling back arching off the bed. he finally locks his slick soaked lips around your needy bud, aggressively sucking on the delicate bundle of nerves. he rests one of his large hands on your tummy, semi exposed as your little top rode up when he threw you down on the bed.
“taste so pretty and sweet, knew you would,” he speaks against you, thighs trembling softly around his face and head. he contemplated using his fingers, but concluded quickly that it was unexplored territory for you. he didn’t want to overwhelm you too much, so he decided that simply eating your pussy would suffice. for now.
his attention stayed on your puffy clit, sucking and nipping the bundle. anything to hear those desperate whines and pleas of yours. he could tell you were already about to cum based on the way your body shook in his grasp, the way your hips attempted to buck towards his mouth. not to mention all of the pathetic whimpers that fell from your sweet lips.
all it took was for his eyes to meet yours for the band inside of your stomach to snap. your head flew back as the intense pleasure flooded your jolting frame. limbs wildly trembling and sweet cries that only drove him to buck his hips against the mattress himself. leon collected every drop of cum that fell from your slit, groaning at the sweet salty taste that he knew he’d now be addicted to for the rest of his life.
he continued to lick your cunt until he decided it was enough, kissing up your tummy and torso until his face was hovering over yours. you looked so pretty and fucked out, all he could think about was how you’d look after he finally gets to split you open with his cock. like he’s been waiting for, for so damn long.
he couldn’t wait for that day, but he knew that’d be too much. he knew what was best for you.
he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. you whined when he abruptly moved back. not satisfied with the shortness of the kiss. you watched him as he moved off the bed, bending down to pick up your long lost stuffed animal before returning to his previous position.
“here you go, baby doll. think you’re gonna need his after that,” he says, handing you the plushie that he had carelessly tossed onto the floor earlier. that’s when you noticed the way his chin was glistening with your essence. the warm lamps light reflecting on it causing it to sparkle. you blush and clutch your plushie to your chest. you look up at his lips as you bit yours, hoping he’d take the hint and kiss you once again. and he did.
Leon gazed down at you, breathless and spellbound, as you lay beneath him. Tender marks bloomed on your delicate skin where his lips had just lingered. Your lover leaned closer, his mouth tracing a path up and down your throat, aligning himself with your already glistening heat. "Pleasepleaseplease," he'd murmur breathlessly against your flesh, a good-natured, submissive soul just waiting for your permission.
No time was wasted. He slammed into you as if it were the last thing he'd ever do. Kisses were exchanged, teeth clashing gently, and sinful moans filled the room. The neighbors already hated you as it was – "not much to lose," Leon would always say with a wry smile.
One hand gripping your hip, his other still steadying his broad figure above yours, your husband slowly slid it under your leg. He pulled your limb up, the smooth curve of your tanned calf resting on his shoulder, the newfound angle deepening the intimate connection between your bodies. Both of you let out soft sounds of pleasure as he found his rhythm, thrusting in and out of your cervix again.
The air in the room was thick, the soft glow of the lamp casting long shadows on the wall, highlighting the rise and fall of your bodies. Your breath hitched in your throat as his gaze drifted, settling on your foot resting on his muscular shoulder. It was adorned with a beautiful silver anklet Leon had given you last year in Greece. There, catching the light with each movement, he watched it. His eyes fixated on the small, intricately carved 'L' charm that hung from the delicate chain. It wasn't just an initial; it was a silent promise, a reminder of your devotion to one another, a subtle declaration of ownership that thrilled him to his core.
Marriage wasn’t enough; he needed to be under your skin, to possess every part of you and merge souls. He turned his head, his lips gently brushing against the cool silver of the jewelry piece, a silent acknowledgment of its significance, a claim. "My sweet Obsession," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm completely, utterly crazy about you." His gaze, piercing yours, intensified with heat.
Then he focused on your foot again, running his fingers along the delicate bones, the soft pads of your sole. He trailed lingering kisses from your heel to the tip of your big toe, a silent worship, a fervent devotion to the curves and arches of your foot. Leon admired the way your sun-kissed skin felt beneath his touch. He gently pressed his lips against the arch, then the ball of your foot, savoring the sensation, before trailing his tongue along the length of your toes, one by one, a silent plea for deeper possession.
This wasn't just intimacy; it was reverence, a deep, aching need to claim every inch of you, starting with the beautiful curve of your foot.
