summary: it had been a stupid fight—the kind that should’ve ended with you begrudgingly crawling into leon’s lap with his arms pulling you close like you’d never left. instead, he was forced to leave for his mission, unresolved tension simmering between you. two weeks later, he’s back and intent on making it up to you.
warnings: (18+) smut, some fluff, older bf!leon, age gap, established relationship, pet names (baby and sweetheart), make up/reunion sex, unprotected p in v, me being really horny about leon’s biceps and hands
word count: 3.3k
music choice: i’m your man by leonard cohen.
The door creaks open at half past two.
Leon entered quietly, trying his best to keep quiet and avoid waking you. Though, he couldn’t help the way his feet dragged on the carpet, the floor protesting against his weight with each step.
You take a deep breath before sliding out of bed, palm rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes. Heart thumping in your chest, you aren’t quite sure what the cause of it is this time—his return home, safely, in one piece, or the fact that your tiff had been left unresolved. You figure it’s a mixture of the two, an uncomfortable one that swirls like nervousness personified in your stomach.
Hand resting on the wall, you peek out from behind the corner. Leon had damn near collapsed on the couch, head tipped back with his eyes shut. For a moment, you wondered whether to approach him now or bother him in the morning.
Only, you didn’t have a chance to make that decision before Leon’s head picked up, those tired eyes searching your face in the dim light. His jaw tenses, innate stubbornness wrestling with how much he’s missed you, before he exhales through his nose. Relenting. The moment his gaze drops to the shirt you’re wearing—his shirt that swallows you whole—he realizes that he has no chance in hell at staying upset with you.
“Hey, you,” he says, his voice rough from lack of sleep, yet softer than usual.
Leon shifts on the couch, making space without asking you to come closer. It was a stubborn man’s apology if you’d ever seen one. And when you don’t come near, he looks away, expression almost shy, fingers still tapping absently against his thigh.
You only make him wait a few seconds longer before you approach, bare feet padding softly on the carpet. When you lower yourself onto his lap, you feel the way Leon’s entire body loosens—like he’d been all wound up without realizing it. Like clockwork, his arm curls around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest.
Head tucked under his chin, you melt into him too, like a homecoming postponed two weeks too long. “Hey,” you finally whisper back.
Leon’s free hand lifts, brushing over your hair. He presses his face into it, inhaling your scent while his eyes come to a close. “Missed you, baby.”
Your fingers fumble with the hem of his shirt, something to keep your hands distracted. He seems to notice, wrapping his large, rough hand around yours. His thumb strokes the back of your hand before he brings it up, pressing his lips to your knuckles.
“You still mad at me?” he asks, chin nudging the top of your head, a silent ask for you to meet his eyes.
And when you do, you can practically see the way the older man melts for you. He releases your hand, placing it on his shoulder, then cups your cheek. It was a habit of his, just looking at you like this. Especially when he returns home from missions, his words and energy having been wrung dry. His touch communicates just how happy he is to see you, safe and sound.
“Mm-hmm,” you hum, though you betray your response by pressing your cheek more firmly to his palm.
You watch as a lazy smile tugs on the corner of his mouth, thumb rubbing your cheek. He pulls you in, lips pressing to the top of your head, and then once more to your forehead.
He lingers for a moment before pulling back just enough to catch your eye. “We gonna talk about it?”
You shrug, noncommittal. “If you want to.”
Leon’s mouth twitches, very easily reading in between the lines and picking up on the hidden subtexts in every word you say by this point. His fingers trail down your arm.
“I shouldn’t have left you like that,” he murmurs, hand coming down to rest on your thigh, thumb stroking your skin. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Should’ve apologized before I left. Made it right.”
When you lower your head to his shoulder, Leon feels somewhat better. Maybe he was better at using his words than he thought. Or maybe you were just tired, sleepy, needing rest. It was the middle of the night, after all.
But when you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing even closer to him, he begins to feel more confident in the former.
Leon turns, lips to your temple. “Still mad at me?”
“Kinda,” you mumble against his neck, nodding. “But I’m too tired to do anything about it right now.”
Leon hums, the sound vibrating against you as his arms tighten around your waist to pull you more securely against his chest. “Lucky me,” he whispers, and even though you can’t see his face, you can hear the proud smirk on it.
One hand slides up your back, settling between your shoulder blades. “Let’s go to bed, yeah? We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
Nodding with your voice muffled against his skin, you say, “Take us to bed.”
Leon tuts. “Bossy.”
But even as he says it, he’s already moving to hoist you up. His arm hooks beneath your legs, lifting you as though you weighed nothing. Sneakily, you peek an eye open, admiring the way his bicep looks from this angle.
Years of working out, excessive training, the grueling missions—they’ve paid off, at least in this way—a way you could admire.
Leon nudges the bedroom door closed behind him before depositing you gently on the bed. He strips out of his clothes until he is left in his boxers, each article thumping to the ground, before climbing in behind you without a word.
“Not bossy,” you mutter as you lean back against his chest.
Leon huffs, a sound between a laugh and a scoff, his breath stirring the hairs at the back of your neck. “Right,” he quietly replies, lips just barely skimming the shell of your ear, “you’re just very politely demanding.”
His arm wraps around your waist, and he tugs you back against him while he pulls the blanket up. The warmth of his body soothed all of your aches and pains, his chest molding against your back. You raise your head, and like routine, Leon lays down his arm, his bicep pillowing your head.
“You’re lucky I like it when you’re bossy.”
You reach for his hand, splayed over your stomach, lacing your fingers with his. “I know you do.”
Leon replies by brushing his thumb over your fingers, face pressing into the back of your neck. For a long moment, the only sound to be heard is the synchronicity of your breathing, the occasional shift beneath the covers.
Another caress comes in the form of muffled words against your neck, “I missed you.”
You press more firmly against him, testing the waters. “I missed you too.”
When he doesn’t answer, you worry that he might be falling asleep. You should want him to rest and catch up on lost sleep. But selfishly—and selfish is what you can be when it comes to Leon’s attention—you press against him again, wiggling your ass just a bit more, because you just can’t help it. It’d been two weeks. Two long, torturous weeks.
You nearly smile when you hear him groan into your ear, feeling emboldened by such a quiet sound. Steeling yourself, you press your back to his front again, and this time, you can feel his erection press back.
Shifting to do it again, Leon’s hand comes down on your hip, halting your movement in his iron grip. “What’re ya doing? I thought my girl was still mad at me.”
Leon’s voice produces a heat that travels through your body, making your heart rate double in your chest. It was groggy and deep, rumbling in his chest with each word he said. You would’ve squirmed if his hand hadn’t brushed your hair away from your neck, his lips replacing it.
“I am still mad at you,” you say, doing your best to stabilize your voice, lest you whine midway through your sentence.
He laughs in your ear, the sound tired and deep, while his fingertips skim the skin of your stomach, slipping beneath the old band T-shirt that you found in the closet.
“I’m sure you are, baby,” he says, lips now encouraged to press an open-mouthed kiss to the spot just beneath your ear.
You gasp as his hand flattens on your stomach, pressing you against him until the scant distance between you is no more. He takes one of your breasts into his palm, squeezing gently.
“I am,” you choke out, though you aren’t even convincing yourself anymore.
Leon hums, naturally unconvinced. He kneads the softness of your breast in his hand, lips traveling the slope of your neck. “Then let me kiss it better. Can’t have my baby mad at me forever, can I?”
You’ve never known a love quite like Leon’s. He was gentle in a way guys your age usually aren’t. Never impatient, never rushing. Would rather touch your body in ways that make it sing than ever use it as a means to an end.
Leon pushes the shirt up your torso, pulling it off and over your head in one gentle movement. His hand cradles the back of your head as you lie back down, lips on the tip of your nose before they land on your lips.
Even now, you notice it.
Hands that rub and knead, rather than pinch and pull. Teeth kept behind the lips that kiss your skin rather than bite into it.
A whimper leaves your lips as his fingertips smooth down your torso, tracing the hem of your panties.
Leon kisses your shoulder, eyes on the side of your face. “Can you do me a favor, sweetheart?”
You nod your head, rewarded with a kiss to your cheek. “Y-Yes.”
He smiles against your skin; you can feel it. “Spread your legs for me. Help an old man out.”
Heat burns your cheeks, a tingling sensation traces the curve of your spine, and you nearly squirm at the feeling. A part of you feels too vulnerable like this, even now, even when you know that Leon isn’t the big bad wolf who’s out to hurt you.
The rough pad of his thumb strokes your lower stomach, lips finding the underside of your jaw, planting soft kisses that only stoke the fire within you. All of it was patient. Pressureless.
As you lift your thigh, his hand smooths over the inner side, keeping you spread open. “There you go,” he praises, hand resting on your knee as he waits for you to get comfortable in this new position.
Leon flexes his bicep beneath your head, an attempt to get your attention. When you tilt your head back to meet his gaze, he lowers to meet you where you are, lips pressing to yours.
You whine into his mouth, hips twitching as his hand properly slips between your legs, cupping your mound. Before you know it, his fingers slip beneath the damp fabric, sliding through your folds with ease.
“F-Fuck,” you stutter.
He groans, and you can feel his cock twitch against your ass. “Left my pretty girl so pent up. Gonna let me do right by you now?”
You nod against his lips, and his hand slips lower, gathering your wetness on his fingertips before bringing them to your clit, circling the pearl at a speed he knows you love. Not too little, but not too much. Just enough.
You pull away from his kiss, burying your face into his arm beneath your head. A whine of his name makes his fingers slip down, two fingers prodding your entrance to work you open.
In response, your thighs threaten to close around his hand, but he uses the strength of his forearm to keep your legs spread, fingers never stopping their pursuit.
His lips skim your ear, voice rough with arousal. “Missed this pretty pussy—shit, squeezing my fingers so tight. She missed me too, huh?”
A whine escapes you as you shift your hips, eager for more. “Yes— fuck, I want you.” Your hand slips between the two of you, just fingertips, just barely running over the thick print of his erection. “Want this—”
Leon damn near whimpers in your ear, forehead dropping onto your shoulder. “Shit, none of that, sweetheart— gonna make me cum before I even get to be inside ya. Don’t want that, do we?”
You shake your head, a small pout forming on your lips. He smiles, head dipping to kiss it away. “Don’t gimme that look, pretty baby. You’ll get what ya want, promise.”
Leon continues to fuck you slowly with his fingers, not aiming to overwhelm you. But two weeks apart have turned you greedy.
“Faster,” you say through a breath.
His lips trace your neck. “Mm-mm. How about a please?”
You huff, already impatient. “Faster, please.”
His lips curve up against your skin, but he obliges you anyway. Always does. His fingers quicken in pace, fingers long enough to easily curl inside you, knuckles deep.
The heel of his palm drags against your clit with every thrust of his fingers, the sound of your arousal and pleasure filling the otherwise quiet room.
Leon kisses your temple, a gentle gesture that contrasts with the movement of his hand. He keeps his eyes on your face, reading each expression. Lips fall onto your cheek. “My beautiful girl.”
You find yourself arching against him, the warmth of his cock twitching back and the heat coiling in your stomach making you moan. Your hand shoots down, wrapping around his wrist, feeling the muscles flex with every move of his hand. “Please, Leon, I’m—”
“I know you are, sweetheart,” he rasps, thumb finding your clit. “I’ve got you. Tell me where it feels good.”
He purposefully slips his fingers in a moment later, fingertips stroking the spot inside of you that makes your thighs begin to shake. The sound you let out is music to his ears, a mix between a whimper and a whine, muffled against his bicep.
“Right there, baby? Yeah?”
You nod, moans spilling from you as you bury your face in his arm completely. His fingers curl against that spot once more, sending you flying over the edge, completely undone. Your hips rock against his hand as your orgasm washes over you, panting harshly against his skin.
Leon’s fingers work you through it until your entire body goes limp against him, withdrawing them entirely. He brings his hand up to his mouth, licking his fingers clean of your release, groaning at the taste.
Still panting from your climax, you find yourself pressing back into Leon once more, his erection fitting snug against your ass.
You can hear him chuckle against your neck. “So soon?”
“Mm-hmm,” you hum in response, fingers just barely slipping beneath the waistband of his underwear. “Unless you need to catch your breath…rest your joints. I know you have your senior moments from time to time.”
Leon catches your wrist in a firm grip and uses your arm to roll you onto your back. He nudges your thighs apart once more, fingers hooking into the sides of your underwear to slide the flimsy fabric down your legs.
“C’mon, sweetheart, don’t get all bratty on me ‘cause you’re getting impatient,” he says, voice rumbling against your skin as he presses a kiss on your hip bone.
You try not to squirm—to act affected at all—as he licks a stripe over your puffy slit, just enough to taste you from the source. “W-Well, all I’m hearing is more stalling.”
Leon clicks his tongue, shaking his head. He presses a kiss on your inner thigh before pulling back, resting his weight on his heels. Tugging his boxers down, he easily kicks them away, until you’re both left just as naked as the day you were born.
His hand wraps around his shaft, stroking himself while positioning his leaking tip at your entrance. “There’s nothing elderly about how I fuck this pussy, baby, you know that.”
Your eyes widen, glued to the movement of his hand as he settles between your thighs once more. His cock seems bigger every time you see it, the head flushed a pretty pink color and beading with the evidence of his arousal.
You gulp, still trying to seem brave. “N-No? It’s just been so long, I guess I forgot.”
Rather than reprimanding you, Leon laughs under his breath, hands smoothing over your thighs as he pulls you closer, tip catching your entrance. “Such a brat,” he muses, voice light.
He slants his hips before you can rattle off another dull jab, sliding inside your warmth, cock snug inside you. His lips are on your neck almost immediately.
Your fingers card into his hair, lightly tugging at the root. “Oh, fuck, Leon—”
Another roll of his hips, another moan earned from your kiss-bruised lips.
He keeps his hands planted on your hips, thumbs stroking over the widest points. “Thought about you the whole time I was gone— shhit, baby, don’t squeeze me so tight.”
You gasp as he tilts your hips up just right, enough for his tip to reach the deepest point inside you. “Y-You did?”
Leon pants against your neck, kisses trailing up the side of your face, hot and wet. “‘Course I did. Wanted to—fuck, there ya go—get back home to my pretty girl.”
You turn your head to catch his mouth with your own, hands coming to cup both sides of his face. “I love you. ‘M sorry I’m such a—hah—brat. Missed you s’much.”
He twitches inside you with a groan into your mouth.
Leon is close, and he can feel that you are too.
He smooths a hand over your forehead, brushing your hair from your face. “I love you too, baby. Always gonna.”
You love this feeling. Being so full of him, so warm and loved. Hands in his hair, on his shoulders, raking down his back. Legs wrapping around his hips, keeping him near.
Leon breaks your kiss only to murmur against your cheek, “Fuck— gotta pull out, baby. Perfect pussy’s gonna make me cum.”
Ankles lock around his hips. Your mouth is back on his. “Mm-mm. Inside.”
A sound in between a gasp and a laugh leaves him, pulling away from the kiss just enough to look down at you. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, sweetheart. Say you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” your response comes faster than lightning. “I-I’m gonna cum!”
Leon’s hips stutter in response to you clenching down on him like a vice. He laces his fingers in yours like it was his first instinct, free hand slipping between you to rub your clit.
He watches your face, brought closer to the edge himself with every pinch of your brows and drop of your lips. “There it is, atta girl. So pretty when you cum.”
Your orgasm strikes you, hot and bright and as intense as electricity. Your hips jerk up into his, your veins thrumming with a pleasure that you’ve long been waiting for.
Just as you fall against him, Leon is there to catch you, hips buried to the hilt. Head tucked into your shoulder, you feel the moment he spills inside you. He cums with a choked sound against your skin, his hips stuttering until he empties himself, still buried snug inside you.
Eyes opening, you still see stars. You almost have to remind yourself how to breathe.
Lips on your shoulder. “Love you.”
A kiss on your forehead, hands pressing against the mattress on either side of your head as he stands up. By the time your eyes open, he’s back with a damp rag and a glass of water to your lips.
Cleaned up and sleepy, he slides into bed behind you once more, arm slung lazily over your middle.
You fall asleep in his arms a quarter past four.
an: i finally wrote something after having writers block for months on end everyone cheer !!! sorry if it’s lowk trash, i’ve been out of the writers room for so longggg 😞
SO I was thinking about how strongly Tara dislikes Gale's in-game hair and beard and it made me wonder if it was originally a result of him locking himself away from everyone but then sort of became intentional later. Also brace yourselves for some character analysis which seems to be unpopular in fan works but is interesting to me:
Gale knows he's handsome.
There always seemed to be a bit of a mismatch between how people depict Gale's confidence in fanworks and how he presents himself in-game to me?
One of his very first interactions at camp he does, admittedly cheekily, play off his Mirror Image as fastidious grooming habits, and dismisses the spell with a sly little "Handsome devil, isn't he?" It's playful and could be read as a bluff, but it does exist and doesn't feel particularly misplaced. This is a man that fucked God. I think that is great assurance that you must on some level be looking pretty good on the regular.
He also thinks he's charming, which he is! He has a line somewhere about having a dazzling smile. He calls Karlach "rough around the edges" but that he supposed he could be "smooth enough for the both of them." He is entirely confident that he can befriend Minthara and is the only one to even think to attempt it.
He is not a shy lover, either, once you are in private. Some of his lines are straight up scandalous. He may be a bit shy and bluster when you're the one to bring it up, but later on he is shameless. The "For now, I'll keep my mouth shut. Unless you have use for it, of course" line made my jaw drop. ALSO when you ask Gale if you were his first aside from Mystra, he says no, you are not. But you are the first AFTER Mystra. In fact, Loroakkan insults Gale by implying it was NOT by magical merit that he gained her favor, and all that merit did was insure he lost it.
Gale's insecurity is about his sense of self worth, and how the metric he judges his own worthiness is by what he can do, not who he is.
I think the reason it bothers me to see this TYPE of insecurity attributed to Gale is that he is our token "bookish nerd" character, and it feels too easy to just assign the one "nerd" character the traits "inexperienced virgin who wishes he looked more like the leading man but actually the lead romance thinks he is sweet despite all his shortcomings." Especially when there's almost nothing in game to draw this conclusion from. And I dunno, maybe some people think that formula is still satisfying as a story but I think its boring. This dude is an absolute dweeb who is also handsome as all hell which is one of the many reasons you are able to pay attention to his forty-five minute long speech about the history of gnolls. He does that and then shoots Astarion down in the same breath. Let autistic people be hot. That's allowed.
