Welcome to my corner of Tumblr! I'm a writing, as you may have guessed, and I love to dive deep into different character dynamics and exploring new fandoms. My stories may (hopefully) hit you right in the feels while also making you laugh, if I'm lucky.
🗡 — Ally (she/they)
💀 — Current Hyperfixation(s): Vampires SMP, KPDH (mainly Saja) and a few rotating obsessions I never can seem to shake
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KPOP Demon Hunters Masterlist
Devour Me [VSMP Fanfic Masterlist]
Creepypasta Masterlist [COMING SOON]
Before You [Poppy Playtime Fanfic Masterlist]
> My Hero Academia
> Vampires SMP
> All Life SMP
> Empires (S1 and S2) SMP
> Scream (the og)
> Friday the 13th series
> Shadowhunters
> InuYasha
> PLL
> KPDH
> The Walking Dead
The list is always growing and decreasing based on my interest, so check back regularly and see if it changes!
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“leonnn, I c-can’t-,”you sobbed, tears streaking your face.
your head rolled back into the pillows as leon thrusted deeper. he had you on your back, his arms holding your legs apart. his cock was buried to the hilt inside your puffy pussy.
he hasn’t stopped thrusting. not after your pussy clenched around him like a vice the first, or third time. not after your nails clawed into his back, guaranteed to leave marks. not even after you started crying.
“no no no no, baby, please,” he whimpered, burying his face in your neck. “I wanna cum- baby, please, I’m so so so close!”
poor thing. your pussy was spasming violently around him, desperate to milk his cock. it wasn’t until a gush of squirt splattered against his lower abdomen that he slowed down.
leon whined, high and needy, watching as you made a mess on his cock. he leaned up, his eyes hooded as he looked down to where your pussy was stretched around his cock. your clit was twitching. “you made a mess,” his voice cracked.
as if his cock wasn’t enough, his thumb reached down to rub your clit. small circles pressed against the swollen pearl. “messy girl…” he murmured. “I’m doing good, huh?”
his hips moved slower, but god, he was going deeper. his cheeks were flushed a soft pink as he fucked into you. “you like it, baby? you gonna cum again?” he moaned.
“nghh…! yes, I like it!” you cried out. his large hand rested against your lower stomach, right over the bulge of his cock.
“fuck, you can see it right here,” he said, his thumb tracing the imprint of his cock in your womb. “look, baby, you can see me inside you.”
your cunt betrayed you, clenching and gushing all over again. a creamy ring of cum formed at the base of his cock. leon winced, your pussy feeling tighter this time. he bit his lip, his thrusts faltering.
“f-fuck…!” he whined. one final thrust before he held you against him. hot, white ropes of cum filled you up. heavy breathing filled your ear.
leon pulled away, pulling his cock out to watch his cum drip out of you. you whimpered, feeling it glide down your inner thighs.
summary: between sleepless nights, bruised hands, and captain levi’s relentless attention, the line between self-preservation and self-destruction begins to blur. captain levi watches you like he’s waiting for you to make a mistake. the problem is that you can’t stop watching him back.
words: 6.0k
part: 2/? (pt 1)
content warning(s): age difference, power imbalance, loss of innocence, canon-typical violence, circa season 1 of aot, aged up recruits, slight eren yeager/reader, not so slowburn, eventual explicit sexual content.
chapter specific warnings: almost kiss, teasing, flirting, tension, mentions of sex, levi cockblocking himself
author's note: this is the second chapter of a multi-chapter fanfiction cross posted on my ao3. hope you guys enjoy! my inbox is open for fic requests and headcanon requests, as well as just to chat.
A deep ache throbbed behind your eyes, spreading towards your jaw and neck, reaching to your shoulder and seemingly finding a home there. It pulsed beneath your skin, feeling unbearably hot like something was trying to push out of it. Your body ached in strange places, soreness stretching to places you had never thought they could reach before. At least you could feel your heart thumping. That had to count for something.
There was the inexplicable smell of alcohol and linen reaching your nostrils, causing your brows to furrow. Slowly, consciousness began to drag you towards some sort of light, eyelids feeling impossibly heavy despite you forcing them open. A second passed where you looked towards the ceiling, the soft lantern light emanating across the wood.
“Hey,” a voice came from beside you quietly.
You blinked, slower, enough to turn your eyes toward the chair sitting near your bed. You turned your whole head then, feeling the softness of a pillow behind you. It was Eren. The moment that you made eye contact with him, relief hit his face, making your chest tighten painfully. He had clearly been sitting there for a while, slouched against the wooden chair beside your head with his arms folded over his chest. There were dark circles around his eyes and he looked so, so tired.
“You look awful,” you mumbled weakly.
Eren let out a tiny laugh. “That’s what you decide to say after being unconscious for almost two days straight?”
You stared at him blankly. Two days? You tried to comprehend losing that much time, and you failed miserably. The only thing you could remember last was the forest spinning, Commander Erwin talking and Hange examining you. And then there was nothing. You squeezed your eyes shut, the movement sending another throb through your skull.
“Don’t do that again,” Eren said, leaning forward in his chair. “You scared the shit out of everyone.”
Your mouth twitched. “Everyone?
“Yes, idiot. Everyone.”
Something warm bloomed inside of your chest. Quiet footsteps echoed somewhere outside of the room, other soldiers returning to the mess hall for dinner. Everything felt too calm to be true, though that’s how infirmaries had always felt to you. Detached from reality, a place of rest. Your gaze shifted back to Eren. “How long have you been sitting there?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Only a few hours. We’ve all been taking shifts. Commander Erwin thought that it was unnecessary, but Captain Levi gave us the okay. He was the one who lugged you back most of the way.”
Your brows furrowed. “Captain Levi?”
Eren nodded once, stretching in the chair. “Yeah. He said that someone should stay in case you woke up confused. Maybe he actually felt bad for what happened.”
You stared at Eren, a quizzical look on your face. Captain Levi feeling bad for anything felt almost absurd to think about. It wasn’t impossible, there had to be some humanity locked deep within him behind his cold gaze. But . . . it was strange to think about. Like trying to picture a wolf apologizing to a sheep after biting it. You shook your head, no. It didn’t make sense. He was probably just trying to cover his own ass after what happened.
“He doesn’t seem like the type,” you muttered, something lingering oddly in your chest. Because despite everything, like the insults and the sharp remarks, and how he always seemed like he was one moment away from throwing half of you recruits into a wall — he still caught you. He still carried you back. And apparently, he still made sure that someone stayed behind while you were unconscious.
Eren hummed. “He’s actually been checking in on you. Maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you think he does. He stopped by the infirmary once in a while to ask if you’d woken up yet.”
Heat reached your cheeks and you were lucky that the light was dim enough to not show it.
“What did he say?” You asked.
His expression flattened slightly, clearly trying to mimic Levi. “Is she awake.” A pause. “Is she dead.” Another pause. “Why is Hange still here.”
Both of you erupted into fits of laughter.
Eren spent the next few minutes catching you up on some of the things that happened while you were unconscious. Everything seemed pretty typical, but a part of you knew that Eren was just trying to make you feel less bad about skipping whole days. He told you about all the people that came to see you. It seemed like you had made more of an impact on the people around you than you even noticed. Armin fell asleep in the chair beside your bed while trying to read to you (something about Hange saying familiar voices would take you out of your sleep), Mikasa threatened Connie at least twice for making too many jokes. Jean apparently complained the entire time he visited, but he had also been the first person to volunteer to watch you.
It felt strange hearing all of it. Not a bad strange. Just incredibly unfamiliar.
Before you had joined the Scouts, you hadn’t ever really stopped to consider what it would be like to belong somewhere. Truly belong somewhere. You had been pushed out of your home in Shiganshina by Titans, and forced to live the life of a refugee in a place where no one wanted you or your neighbors. Joining the military was a last ditch effort in order to stay with your friends at first, but now you couldn’t imagine yourself anywhere else. Being here had stitched everyone together in a messy and uneven way, something that would probably never fully come undone. Even now, waking up in the infirmary, there was someone sitting right beside you, waiting for you to wake up.
“See? You’re not allowed to die now. Too many people would be annoyed about it,” Eren said, pushing your shoulder. “So don’t let something like this happen again, or we’ll think that you’re just doing it for attention.”
“You’re evil,” you stated, a grin on your face.
Eventually, everyone heard that you were awake again and your friends came to visit you. That was, until Hange kicked them out and said that you needed your rest. Connie had attempted to argue, but Eren and Mikasa dragged him out by the collar with promises that they could come back and visit in the morning. As much as you wanted to stand up and leave with them, you knew that it was best to take it easy. You were still getting your strength back. Soon enough, you would be back on your feet. And everything would return to normal.
Right?
The evening had fully darkened now, moonlight slipping pale and silver through the infirmary windows. There were a few remaining sounds of soldiers moving through headquarters and somewhere in the small office that was nearby, you could hear pages turning. Hange, most likely. They were probably going over documents of her research until it calmed them to sleep. Did they ever sleep? You really weren’t sure.
You shifted slightly beneath the blankets, trying to reach for the cup of water on the table beside the bed. However, you immediately regretted moving too much when the pain flared in your shoulder. Hange told you that it had almost been dislocated, and that you were lucky or that would have had you out of commission for a few weeks. Through your winces, you were able to take the cup and take a big gulp. It felt good down your throat, obviously parched from being asleep for two days.
A quiet scoff came from the doorway.
“You’re actually awake”
Levi stood near the entrance of the infirmary, arms crossed over his chest while leaning against the doorframe, expression unreadable from so far away. From what you could see, there were bandages wrapped around one of his forearms that disappeared beneath the rolled sleeve of his white shirt. He walked closer now, crossing the room with the same authoritative drive he used when crossing the battlefield. Once he was at the foot of the bed, you could see the darkened bruises blossoming on the pale skin of his collarbone. He looked tired behind his eyes.
He looked less like the untouchable strongest soldier and more like the man that you had been in the forest with, who had enough forethought to grab you so you didn’t end up with more injuries than you already had. A part of you wondered how badly he was actually hurt, and before you opened your mouth to say it, you thought about how it was better not to ask.
“Hange said that your shoulder is still unstable,” Levi said.
You glanced over your body, the bandaging wrapped beneath the straps of your black knitted tank top a testament to just how unstable it was. You shrugged with your good shoulder. “I’m hard to kill.”
He huffed out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. His eyes were still looking at you and you almost felt like a bug under a microscope the way that they scanned from your shoulder to the cut that was already half healed on your cheek, your lip still cut and busted in one area.
“You’re reckless,” he said finally, though it seemed to be less of an insult because it lacked its usual bite. “That isn’t the same thing as being hard to kill.”
Your fingers tightened around the blanket in your lap. “You make it sound like I did it on purpose. I didn’t. I promise I didn’t see you there until it was too late. It was a one time—”
He spoke your name, which cut you off from your half assed explanation of something that you weren’t even sure you were remembering correctly. Your name sounded weird on his lips. You were used to him calling you cadet, or soldier, or anything other than the name that you had been born with. There was no sharpness behind it either, just a soft syllabuled word like he had said it so many times before. Your heartbeat stumbled awkwardly beneath your ribs.
You desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. Did he think that this was all your fault? Did he despise you for giving him injuries that he wouldn’t have if you had been looking where you had been going?
Levi seemed to realize that he had been staring too long at you, because his expression began to harden again, putting an invisible distance between the two of you. “You’re off training for the next several days,” he said.
Your face dropped immediately. “What? I’m fine.”
“You’re not using your ODM gear until Hange clears you.”
It was a clear order. One that you knew you had to obey.
The next two weeks passed strangely. It wasn’t slow, but also wasn’t quick. You were banned from ODM drills and almost all drills that didn’t have the gear either which, frankly, felt worse than your obvious head injury and your shoulder which had practically healed completely. While everyone else was off training in the forest or doing sparring drills or going out for small expeditions, you were stuck doing everything else. Inventory. Repairs. Cleaning. You were sure that if you had to wash the windows one more time or count another potato, you were going to explode.
“He’s doing this on purpose. I’ve been fine for at least two days now and I’m still a glorified maid,” you complained to Sasha, scrubbing blood off of a set of blades that had been used in the latest expedition to kill some Titans that got too close to one of the walls.
Sasha glanced over at the far side of the room where Levi stood, reviewing some paperwork beneath the dim lantern light. “Maybe he just likes staring at you.”
You dropped the blade into the water bucket. Scrambling, you sifted your hand through the liquid to try and find it while saying, “What?”
Sasha shrugged, like it was the most common thing in the world. “I’m just saying. He keeps assigning you to everything that keeps you very close.”
You finally found the blade at the bottom of the bucket and pulled it out with an irritated splash, water dripping down your forearms while you held a scowl on your face. You told yourself that she was being crazy, that he was just keeping you close by in case your brain decided to hemorrhage or something like that. You spent so much time in your head, that was the whole reason that you had gotten hurt in the first place.
You really needed to stop reading so much into things.
And you really needed to stop looking for him every time you did something for some type of approval on his part.
Unfortunately, your body decided to betray your mind, because even after telling yourself all of that, your eyes drifted toward the far side of the room where Levi was standing. The room was busy with soldiers doing menial tasks like cleaning gear and washing clothing and Levi still managed to look entirely separate from all of it. Completely self-contained, not worrying about anything around him. He was so sure of himself and his entire life that you wondered how long it had taken him to get to this point. You had heard the rumors about him, possibly too many rumors that you knew not all of them could be true. Though all of them had at least one thing in common with each other: he used to be very well known in the criminal underground before joining the Scouts. How he got to the Scouts was a bit of a mystery. Some people said that it was because he was bored being a criminal, and others said it was because Erwin took him captive and made him join the Scouts.
Regardless, it all came down to the same idea that Captain Levi was incredibly different than almost everyone you had met before.
The dinner bell rang and everyone was quick to finish or abandon their work. Once you polished the rest of the blade in your hand, you and Sasha walked into the hallway and met up with the others for another delicious meal of some-sort-of-vegetable-soup. You slid into your usual spot beside Eren, nudging him with your elbow before digging into your meal.
“Oh, hey,” Eren said, nudging you with his own elbow in response. “I missed you out there today. It feels so wrong to see you just stand and feed the horses all day.”
You sighed. “Tell me about it.”
He laughed quietly beside you, the sound warm enough to pull a smile across your face. This was normal. You needed normal, especially lately. You listened while your gaze drifted absently across the mess hall. There were more soldiers coming in now, crowded into nearly every single table. And despite your better judgement, your eyes found Levi in the crowd.
He sat near the farthest table from the entrance near Commander Erwin and Hange, with one hand curled around a teacup while the other seemed to fiddle with the same papers he had been looking at earlier. Your gaze lingered for only a second before you looked away, although it was too slow that you realized Eren had noticed.
“You okay?” he asked.
You blinked once, feigning indifference. “Hm?”
“You zoned out again.”
“Oh,” you said, shrugging. “Just tired, I guess.”
Eren studied your face for another moment and you wondered if he could see through your lie. Another moment passed before he said, “You’ll be back to training soon. Don’t worry.”
You nodded vaguely, lowering your gaze back towards your soup before Eren could say anything else. Around you, the conversation was shifting between if Connie could survive out in the wilderness alone while Sasha argued that he would die within hours. They kept talking while you tried your best to eat your food as fast as possible, longing for your bed and a good night's sleep. At least then you could begin to hope that you would be able to train in the morning.
“Captain!” Armin exclaimed, looking at you, which made you raise your eyebrow. But then you heard the sound of shifting footsteps behind you, and it was then that you realized Captain Levi was standing right behind you and Armin was looking at him and not you. The entire table straightened, Connie stopped talking mid sentence and Mikasa lowered her fork from her mouth. Even Jean looked less interested in arguing about his wilderness survival now that Levi stood behind your shoulder.
You turned in your seat, watching Levi look down at the table with an unreadable expression. His attention lingered briefly on the rest of your friends before settling on you.
“Are you done eating?” he asked.
You blinked once, glancing down at your mostly empty bowl. It had only been ten minutes of you sitting down, was he really going to make you do something else? You could only imagine what he was going to make you do now. Muck out the stables? Clean the floors near the bathrooms? You almost shivered at the idea of having to get your hands dirty like that. “Uh, Almost,” you replied.
“After dinner, go to the library.”
Your brows furrowed. “The library?”
That dusty old place? What could Levi possibly want you to do there? You were sure that the room hadn’t been touched by any soldier since the military started using headquarters again. How could it have gotten that dirty?
“There are old scouting formation records that need to be reorganized. It’s impossible to get records to Commander Erwin in the sorry state it's in right now,” he spoke. When he saw the quizzical look on your face, blinking a few times to make sure you were hearing him correctly, he spoke again. “You’re not training. Which means unlike anyone else, you shouldn’t be tired. Perfect for staying up later to do some paperwork.”
Eren muttered something under his breath but you couldn’t hear it. You were too busy trying not to overthink the assignment or the fact that Levi had thought of you specifically for it. Again, you reminded yourself that you were thinking too much into things. It was a simple assignment, something that shouldn’t take too long and then you could go back to your life. And as far away as possible from whatever feelings you were having being near Levi for too long.
“I can do that,” you replied.
Levi sat farther into his heels, his eyes traveling from your eyes to the soft bandages that poked out of your uniform from your shoulder. He watched for a moment longer before walking away through the mess hall, boots echoing softly against the wooden floors.
The library smelled of mildew and leather, a place that had a considerably less amount of foot traffic just by the looks of it. There was a fine line of dust along the top shelves where books that hadn’t been touched in years laid in wait. Luckily, those ones seemed to still be in chronological order. The ones that needed attending to were on the middle and lower shelves. It was clear that the groups of military who were here before left in some type of hurry, different papers strewn in between each book in a disorganized array.
You dragged your fingers along the spine of one of the books while moving through the shelves, eyes scanning the faded lettering stamped along the leather bindings. Lanternlight glowed softly through the library, stretching shadows between each row of books, the heavy wooded doors fading any distant muffled noise. It felt almost abandoned, in the way that churches were quiet.
A strange sort of heaviness settled in your body while you scanned each text looking for proper dates. Every single book in this room represented years of work, years of people fighting for the same thing that you were fighting for, and years of hope for a better life. Most of the soldiers that were in these past formations were probably not alive anymore, due to such a high casualty rate in the Scouts. Your gaze drifted to one of the papers sticking between two books, pulling it free and scanning the handwritten notes that covered the page. Words from a different time.
To your right, Levi was sitting at the head of one of the many wooden tables, scanning over documents himself. It seemed like he was looking for something, the way that his long index finger traced the faded lines of text. If you watched him for too long, you found yourself staring at the vascular contours of his hands, a vein or two sticking out against his pale skin. The finger he was using traced so delicately as to not disturb the pages beneath it.
You wondered, for a split second, if that finger would feel as delicate tracing the vertebra of your spine. And instead of the usual mortifying feeling you had thinking about your commanding Captain that way, all you could do was replay the motion over and over in your head. Your stomach twisted in on itself, the familiar feeling of heat rising to your cheeks.
To try and combat this embarrassment, you looked back down at the papers in your hands, setting them down on the table and beginning to order them by date. Your fingers moved quicker than your thoughts, trying so desperately hard not to think about Levi touching you in any capacity beyond dragging you out of life-threatening situations or carrying you from the forest after you passed out from injury. It was one thing to notice that he was attractive, unfairly attractive, but it was another thing to imagine the exact way that his hands would roam your body while standing only a few feet away from him.
Levi sighed, a sound that caught your attention in the intimate space between the two of you. When you turned to look at him, he had his hand running through his dark hair to the back of his neck, an obvious tiredness in his actions that made you wonder why he insisted on doing this tonight instead of tomorrow in the morning. Your memories flashed back to that night you had been outside with him and how late that was. Perhaps he also had trouble sleeping after all of these years.
“Something wrong, Captain?” You asked, trying to make polite conversation regardless of your splintered and fractured feelings towards him. His hand paused briefly where it rested against the back of his neck before dropping back down to the papers. There was such a pregnant pause between your question and his answer that you almost thought he would ignore your question entirely.
He leaned back into his chair, the creak of wood under the legs of it. “Headache.”
You pretended that you didn’t hear the gruffness of his voice when he said it, the low timbre scratching right into your bones. It was such a common, simple word, and yet you were reeling from it. It took everything in you to not ask him more questions, to dig into how he was feeling, how he felt about what happened between the two of you in the forest. So, instead you tried to go back to work.
It was hard though, because you could hear the scrape of Levi’s thumb against the old paper whenever he turned a page, or the quiet shift of his boots against the floorboards. You could hear the occasional low exhale through his nose when he realized how worn the words were on the page of whatever he was reading. You wondered if other people noticed these things about him too, or if they were too busy being afraid of him to even think about it.
“I’m sorry,” you stated before you could stop yourself. Your eyes drifted back to him, watching him roll up one of his grey sleeves. “For what happened in the forest.”
His finger stilled against the page.
You continued. “During the crash you got hurt because I wasn’t paying attention.”
Levi stared at you, silence stretching thin. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. Maybe you should have just kept your mouth shut so you could get out of here and stop thinking so much about him. He was your Captain, it was so inappropriate to even think about thinking these incessant thoughts about him.
“You really need to stop thinking so much,” he said. An observation. If this had been a month ago when you were just getting to know your Captain, you would have probably taken it as almost an insult the way that he said it. Knowing Levi now, you knew it was just his nature. Levi stood up and put the book he had been reading away on one of the middle shelves, leaning against the wood afterwards to look at you fully.
Your fingers twitched. “And what?” you asked. “You don’t think about mistakes after they happen?”
“I don’t make mistakes.”
You stared at him flatly for a moment, then a laugh escaped your throat before you could stop it. It wasn’t loud, just tiny enough that it slipped without any instinct. Levi’s eyes squinted, as if to ask why you were laughing when he was serious. He walked closer to you, footsteps echoing within the wooden walls of the library. It was here that you could see his face completely, every single painfully handsome detail. His jawline was sharp, so sharp that you wondered if it would soften with a kiss against it, or how it would look with a mouth shaped mark just along the junction between his jaw and his neck.
His eyes stayed glued to yours, dark grey circles that looked right into yours, searching for something. You weren’t sure what.
Maybe he didn’t know either.
Your pulse beat so hard beneath your skin that you wondered if he could see it in the vein in your throat. He was so close now, close enough that if you leaned forward even slightly, your knee would brush against his leg. You could feel his breathing again, the same way that you had felt when you had landed on top of him in the clearing. Calm and concise, like he wasn’t affected by being so close to you.
A hand came up, pausing for a moment while he looked into your eyes, and then landed on your cheek, tracing the faint line that still was present from the accident. Your breath caught in your throat. Levi’s hand was rougher than you expected it to be. It wouldn’t be the first time that someone had touched the healing wound. Eren was obsessed with making sure it was healing properly. But Levi’s hands felt different than Eren’s, his touch felt different than Eren’s. His fingers curled against your jaw, steady and warm, thumb tracing carefully along the fading cut.
It was impossibly gentle for a man who was capable of tearing Titans apart with ease.
You kept your eyes fixed on his face while he examined the scar, gray eyes lowered beneath his dark lashes. You could see every tiny detail that you had spent the last two weeks trying desperately not to notice, like how the faint scar near his lip was pale with age, or how his expression softened just slightly when he stopped thinking so hard about maintaining his sharp persona that everyone expected from him.
“You’ll scar,” your Captain murmured, thumb brushing once more against your cheekbone.
You swallowed. Hard. “That bothers you?”
His eyes shifted from the pale line slowly back toward your own.
“No.”
You remembered then the way he had said ‘no’ that night outside. The same certainty, a quiet finality beneath the word.
Then you must have gotten what you wanted, right, Captain?
No.
It hit you over and over again, just like it had that night beneath the moonlight, the coldness settling in your bones. Something about the way Levi said things made them feel immovable and absolute. He had already carved the thought into stone before speaking it out loud. He looked at your scar like it didn’t lessen you in any way, thumb lingering against your cheekbone before his hand moved, signalling he was going to move away.
Your instincts took over, right hand shooting up and curling around the pale expanse of his wrist, holding his hand there against your face. The entire room seemed to stop breathing while Levi stilled beneath your touch. Your pulse was slamming violently against your ribs the second you realized what you had done, eyes blown wide as you failed to reach eye contact with him.
This was your Captain. The same Captain who would kill a Titan without blinking. The same Captain who people stepped aside for in hallways like he had silently commanded it. Your Captain whose hand was still cupping your face while your fingers curled around the bones of his wrist like you couldn’t bear the idea of him pulling away.
Instead of letting go, your grip tightened only slightly, prompting Levi’s eyes to drop towards your hand. His gaze then lifted towards your face again and you could’ve sworn that something dark flickered behind his gaze. It wasn’t exactly anger. Something worse than that.
Your breathing was shallow, every inhale catching in your throat while his skin burned warm beneath your fingers. The tendons shifted subtly underneath your grip, his hand flexing as if to test the sturdiness of your hand. Neither of you had moved still, while the library became deathly quiet around you. You couldn’t hear the muffling of footsteps in the hallway anymore, nor the flickering of the lantern on the table.
“Careful.”
The word, that singular word, scraped against your spine.
Still, you didn’t let go.
Levi inhaled sharply. A tiny sound, barely there. And the noise nearly destroyed you. His eyes narrowed, though it didn’t look like irritation in his gaze. More like restraint, like he was forcing himself not to react to you the way that his body wanted him to. His thumb brushed slowly along your cheek, eyes still focused as if trying to memorize the exact details of your face.
“If you keep looking at me like that,” he murmured. “Eventually you’re going to get yourself into trouble.”
“How am I looking at you?” You muttered back, mouth going slightly dry. The question held there between your body, like a pulled blade, inches from being stabbed directly into his heart before having him bleed out on the library floor. His demeanor changed then, the same hand on your face tracing a slow path down your cheek to your jaw, finding purchase there before continuing its descent down, down, down and landing on the junction between your head and your neck. You gulped, which he could feel beneath his fingers. He didn’t squeeze, just held you there through his hand and his gaze.
He stepped forward then, pinning you in between him and the table. “You know exactly how,” he said quietly. His eyes traveled downward to your mouth. “Do you want me to do something about it?”
Yes. Your body screamed. Yes you wanted him to do something about it. He had been driving you crazy for the past two weeks, invading your thoughts and infecting your mind with only him. He made you stay close to him under the guise that he was watching your recovery. You hated him because he didn’t let you go back to training. And you hated him for making you seem like a maid to order around on your every whim. And you hated him now, for looking at you like you were the one who was coaxing him into something that he didn’t want. You knew he wanted something, it was evident. But something told you that he would never admit it.
You wanted him to kiss you so bad that it physically hurt, an aching thing that you couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard you tried. In fact, you weren’t even sure that if he kissed you it would go away. It would be easier that way, if he kissed you and things would go back to normal. But the way that he was looking at you now wasn’t helping your rationale. He wanted this, you knew that he did. You could feel it in the way that his hand absentmindedly flexed against your throat as your breathing sped up and then slowed back down.
And still, he was making you say it.
“You’re cruel,” you whispered to him, inspiring a look of amusement from Levi. He hummed, the sound brushing against your lips from how close he was standing.
You hated him for that too. For being so composed while your thoughts were spiraling into something embarrassing, something desperate beneath his gaze. You could barely even remember why you had been in the library in the first place. The reports, which were strewn lazily along the desk you were practically sitting on, felt absurdly unimportant to the both of you.
“You keep asking questions you already know the answer to,” you stated.
Levi’s other hand came to brush his fingers against your jaw, thumb coming up way too close to your bottom lip.
“Do I?”
“Yes.”
“Then answer it.”
A command, one that you were expected to answer. Under normal circumstances, you would have answered right away. Yes, Captain. But the words caught in your throat. It felt wrong to call him Captain at a time like this, when he was this close to you that you could smell the fresh linen scent emanating from his clothing and something like black tea on his breath.
Swallowing your pride, you spoke low, “I know you want to kiss me.”
“You shouldn’t say things like that to me,” he said, a fact. But his voice was devoid of any type of uncertainty. It sounded wrecked.
“Why?” You whispered.
Because I won’t stop.
Every inch of your body leaned unconsciously toward him, waiting for the kiss that felt inevitable now. His forehead pressed against yours and your eyes fluttered shut, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your mouth.
And then?
Nothing happened.
Furrowing your brows in confusion, you opened your eyes. Levi was still looking at you, watching you unravel in front of him, as your stomach twisted and your heart beat right into your ears. What the hell was he waiting for? You had laid out what you felt and what you knew that he felt and . . . he wasn’t doing what he was supposed to be doing!
“Captain,” you whispered, the title slipping free through your mouth, sounding all the more desperate than respectful.
Levi stepped back, your pulse thrumming hard while his hands slipped away from you. His fingertips ghosted along your skin before they disappeared. The sudden loss of warmth hit you immediately and your body almost followed him on instinct. Which Levi seemed to notice, a faint exhale from him. It sounded almost like satisfaction. Like he had wrestled himself back under control and knew exactly what denying was doing to you. His breathing had calmed down, rolled sleeves exposed forearms with the same veins that you had been eying earlier.
As if it was the most normal thing in the world, he reached down toward the table.
“Organize the rest of these papers, then you can leave,” he said evenly.
“You cannot be serious.”
“I’m very serious.”
“You were just —”
“Just what?” Mocking.
You gave him a look, one that was half pleading and half accusatory.
And instead of continuing the conversation, he turned on his heel and left, the sound of the library doors closing echoing through the room.
summary: between sleepless nights, bruised hands, and captain levi’s relentless attention, the line between self-preservation and self-destruction begins to blur. captain levi watches you like he’s waiting for you to make a mistake. the problem is that you can’t stop watching him back.
words: 6.3k
part: 1/? (pt 2)
content warning(s): age difference, power imbalance, loss of innocence, canon-typical violence, circa season 1 of aot, aged up recruits, slight eren yeager/reader, not so slowburn, eventual explicit sexual content.
chapter specific warnings: tension? mentions of death. reader passes out.
author's note: this is the first chapter of a multi-chapter fanfiction cross posted on my ao3. hope you guys enjoy! my inbox is open for fic requests and headcanon requests, as well as just to chat.
Sticking your tongue into the junction of your upper and lower teeth, you swung your sword with purpose.
Thwack!
The enemy did not relent, casting his arm over his head to shield the blow, while the other arm jutted its own weapon out towards your hip. With practiced ease, you maneuvered your body to spin, using your own momentum to propel yourself forward. Your blade slotted in the space between his collarbone and neck, pinning him down onto the ground with your knees. It was here that you had him, one more slice and he would be gone.
Eren’s green eyes widened as he looked up at you, soft tufts of grass displaying around his head like a crown. “Did Mikasa show you that and not me?” He asked as an obvious surrender, tone shifting into that of concern instead of determination. “I told her that you two training together would do more harm than good.”
He pushed himself up, face only a few inches from yours when he grinned childishly. “I mean, it would do more harm than good for Armin and I. You two would be unstoppable if we all got into an argument.”
You laughed, setting your training sword on the ground in order to crawl off of him, looking in the distance at the other cadets sparring in the low evening light. A moment later you held out your hand, to which he grabbed and used your leverage to anchor himself up, brushing the dirt off of his tan pants. “You seem too cocky for someone who was put on their ass a second ago,” you muttered.
Around you, the field buzzed with the humming sounds of cicadas clinging to the trees, the dull percussion of training blades intercepting once in a while over their song. The evening sun hung low, bleeding gold across your friends face.
“Seriously,” Eren continued, panting for breath, “whatever Mikasa is showing you, she definitely skipped over with the rest of us.”
“Maybe she just likes me more.”
A snort was heard nearby from Sasha, who was sitting cross-legged in the grass, nursing a bruise blossoming along her jaw. Next to her was Connie, muttering an apology for hitting too hard to cause harm. You took a moment to admire the scene in front of you, soldiers paired up with one another as they practiced their sparring before calling it a night, taking the last bits of light until it was replaced with the moon. It had been a month since you and your friends had joined the Scouts, desiring the freedom that came from being outside the walls. The Battle of Trost was still fresh in all of your minds, enough to where sometimes you would wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.
The scattered conversations around the field began thinning and practice swords eventually lowered. You could see the weight of their exhaustion in their shoulders. Towards the end of the day all of you got sluggish, sleep so close yet so far away.
Sasha groaned dramatically. “I think I’m dying.”
“You say that every time someone touches you,” Connie said.
She stood up from the ground and looked down at him, giving him a light kick. “Because all of you are violent.”
You smiled despite yourself, hand reaching to your shoulder to rub absently. Everything hurts lately. Bruises were layered over older bruises before they had the time to fade, muscles sore from drills specifically were designed to push recruits until they collapsed. Hange had cheerfully informed all of you during breakfast this morning that the pain meant that your body was learning, to which you had to physically hold Jean so that he didn’t throw a spoon at them from across the mess hall.
Eren began to say something else, which you half listened to while your gaze drifted to the far side of the training grounds. It was there that you saw Captain Levi, standing near the wooded perimeter fence. One hand rested against the hilt attached to his hip while the other held him steady against the wood. He was watching the group to your right, and then in an instant, he was looking at you.
Heat crawled unpleasantly up the back of your neck.
It had become a recurring problem over the past two weeks, where you always caught his attention at the worst possible moments. His attention always shifted at times where you were idle, like now as you stood talking with your friends while you were supposed to be training, or the night that you were ordered to clean the mess hall floors and took a little bit too much time filling the bucket with water. It was as though he could sense the exact moment that your focus slipped.
You looked away first. He was difficult to look at directly for too long. His gaze was sharp in a way that made you feel abruptly aware of yourself. Your posture. Your breathing. The dirt on your boots. Though, it was too late. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him moving closer. The conversations began to dull almost instinctively, quieter in the way that you all became whenever Captain Levi crossed the grounds. Everyone tried to make themselves look busy. Sasha stood up from her sitting position while Connie pretended he was fixing the laces of his boots. Eren grabbed his sword from the ground along with yours, handing it to you.
Levi stopped a few feet away from your group, his gaze sweeping across your groups scattered training swords and half-resting soldiers. His mouth twitched.
Disapproval.
“That’s really interesting,” he said in a flat tone. “I don’t remember dismissing any of you.”
“We’ve been training for over three hours,” Eren muttered under his breath, as if to only say it to your group instead of the Captain. The moment it left his mouth you could see the regret on his face because Levi heard him anyway, and you could see your friend reconsider every life decision that led him to this moment.
“And somehow you still can’t fight for shit.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, the fleshy skin anchoring you hard enough to stop yourself from smiling.
Unfortunately for you, Levi seemed to notice that too. “You think that’s funny?”
Amusement vanished from your expression. “No, sir.”
“Hm.”
You knew that he didn’t believe you and for one unbearable second, his eyes lingered on you. Cool gray analyzing your face with the same focus you had noticed him giving broken equipment or badly cleaned floors. Your stomach dropped, preparing for another snide remark thrown your way, another way that he could spot out your lack of attention or drive.
Instead, his gaze fixed downward to the sword hanging loosely at your side in your hand.
“You’re holding it wrong.”
Your fingers instinctively tightened around the grip of the base. “I—”
“In real combat you would lose two fingers trying to catch it once it falls out of your grip.” His voice was straight as he spoke, like he was bored. “If you weren’t already impaled by the enemy.”
Heat rose to your face.
Levi extended his arm toward you expectantly. And for a second you only stared at him, blinking in confusion before realizing that he wanted your sword, which you quickly handed over. His finger brushed yours briefly, the contact of calloused fingers dragging against your skin before he stepped back. It was less than a second, but it still left you aware of your own heartbeat thumping in your chest.
He rotated the sword in his grip, like it was made for him. He was confident in the way that he held it, as though he would be able to do considerable damage with a sword that was dulled for training. You watched as his fingers curved against the hilt, thumb pressed into the leather handle to steady it.
“You’re compensating too much with your wrist,” he stated, like it was obvious. “You’ll never get a good slash on a titan with the way you were holding it. You’re better off just standing in front of it and letting it eat you.”
“I wasn’t that bad,” you muttered.
Levi’s eyes squinted.
“No,” he agreed, an amusing lilt to his voice. Would he actually compliment you for once?
“You were worse.”
Typical.
“I don’t understand what his problem is,” Eren said to you, passing a piece of bread your way from across the table. The mess hall was filled with multiple different conversations, all ranging to wildly different things. Though, after your encounter with the Captain on the training yard, your group was focused on debriefing what had happened before he let everyone go for the night. You caught the bread before it could bounce off your tray, tearing a piece from it and plopping the bit into your mouth. It was still warm.
Across from you, Armin winced. “I think the Captain is like that with everyone.”
It was typical for Armin to try and see the bright side of things, even when it came to your brooding Captain. His words comforted you more than you let on, giving him a sympathetic look before returning your gaze to the bowl of some type of stew in front of you.
“No,” Jean interjected. “He definitely enjoys being mean to her specifically.”
You shot him a glare.
Jean raised his hands up, one of them holding a spoon as he said, “What? It’s true! He just insults us. She gets a play by play of everything she did wrong.”
Eren kicked him underneath the table. “You aren’t helping.”
Despite reminiscing about your close call with the Captain earlier, you felt some of the tension you had been holding begin to loosen. The mess hall buzzed, steam rising from bowls that smelled like vegetables and broth. It felt normal, or as normal as things could feel after Trost. Your gaze drifted absently across the room, watching your fellow soldiers crowd together. Some laughed too loudly, others were falling asleep hung over tables, a few just stared at nothing.
“You know,” Connie started, “I think the Captain paying attention to you is probably a good thing.”
“That’s the worst thing anyone has ever said to me,” you replied flatly.
He grinned, but leaned forward. “No, listen. Captain Levi barely notices most people. Or doesn’t care to notice people.” A beat. Before he said, “Maybe he just thinks that you have potential.”
Jean pointed at you with his spoon. “Or maybe he thinks you’re going to die horribly.”
“That too.”
Eren raised to your defense again, but the argument blurred into the familiar background noise of the table while you tore at another piece of bread, dipping it into the broth. Potential. You doubted that it was that. There was no way that the Captain was picking on you because of that. He probably thought that you were a dumb little girl who wanted to play with swords and decided to join the Scouts to try and make a name for yourself. Or maybe he thought that you had a death wish, and he was trying to teach you that even if you die, you would die fighting. You hated that you wanted to prove him wrong.
With every fibre of your being, you just wanted to prove him wrong.
You wanted him to look at you and think you were capable instead of careless.
Sasha said something to you and you pretended to hear it, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. A hand came and laid on your own. Eren. “He’s just a dick, don’t take it personally, really,” he said, trying his best to comfort you. “He needs to get laid.”
Mikasa scrunched up her face. “Ew.”
Connie burst into laughter loud enough to turn a few heads from the nearby tables, while Jean nearly choked on his drink.
Armin looked horrified. “Eren,” he said weakly. “You can’t just say that. We should not speculate about the Captain's personal life like that.”
“Why not?” Sasha asked.
“Because if he hears us talking about this we’ll probably die.”
After the bit of laughter had settled down, Armin forced a subject change.
You couldn’t sleep.
You tried to reason with yourself that it was the bruise that was blooming on the back of your thigh from taking a fall earlier that was making you too uncomfortable. But you knew that it was because of the nightmares that plagued you the moment you closed your eyes. In the darkness, Trost waited for you.You saw blood spilling across the stone streets, dust and smoke making everything blurry. ODM gear screamed through the air alongside your fellow soldiers begging for help that never came. Titans wandered through your thoughts like gods at the top of the food chain, mouths opening and eating soldiers between rows of teeth. And afterward, the vomiting. The regurgitated mangled bodies on the ground because its stomach had become too full.
With a quiet exhale, you shoved your blanket away and sat upright. Carefully, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, the wooden floor creaking faintly beneath your feet.
Maybe fresh air would help.
You moved through the halls, pulling the door open just enough to slip outside. Once the cold air hit your face, the sharpness grounded you. For a moment, you stood there beneath the moonlight and breathed. The air was almost sweet smelling. Unlike the air you were used to behind the walls that smelled faintly of smoke and livestock. The grounds looked entirely different at night. Softer. The noise of the day had stilled into silence which left only the trees to rustle their song, the occasional owl hooting.
Your gaze looked upward toward the stars. So many people had died beneath this sky, so many people that you weren’t sure you could remember all of their names anymore.
The thought settled heavily in your chest.
“You’re going to freeze to death standing out here.”
You nearly jumped out of your skin at the voice. And when you turned your head, Captain Levi was there, sitting on the steps near one of the other entrances, half-shadowed by darkness. He was impossibly still. You wouldn’t have even known that he was there if he hadn’t made you aware of it. In his hand, there was a teacup. You could see the steam rolling off of it.
You crossed your arms against your chest instead of answering him, gaze drifting toward the stretch of trees in the distance. The forest looked endless from here. Almost consuming. Neither of you spoke to fill in the silence, which should have felt uncomfortable. Instead, however, it settled strangely still between the both of you.
He spoke again. Slightly louder this time.
“You’re useless to me if you get yourself sick.”
You considered immediately going back inside. That was probably the smart decision, because the thought of being alone at night with Captain Levi felt inherently dangerous to the peace you tried to keep in your mind, especially after the disaster that had happened earlier during training. But a part of you knew that leaving now would make it look like you were afraid of him. Which, for the record, you absolutely were, though, not in the way that he probably thought.
“I’ll survive a little cold air,” you answered instead, keeping your voice firm. Though it was after hours, he was still your Captain.
Levi made a quiet sound against the rim of his teacup, a sound that seemed like half agreement and half dismissal. “You recruits are all stubborn in the exact same way,” he muttered. “You’ve barely spent any time out of here and you think that you can survive it.”
“I survived Trost.”
“If I hadn’t come and protected you and your friends while you tried to pull Yeager out of that titan, you would have died. And we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
The words thrummed through the soft air like a chord struck wrong. Your jaw tightened immediately, fingers curling against your arms. It was cruel. You tried to reason in your head. He was cruel. He spent all of this time trying to beat you down and even when you were off-duty he did the same. Images of that day came back uninvited, like you were asleep again, and you could see Eren’s titan collapsing, you could feel the absolute desperation that you had felt while trying to break him free before more Titans arrived. And then Captain Levi, cutting through them like it was just another day.
“I know that,” you answered, something defensive behind your words.
“Do you?”
Irritation flooded you.
“Yes.”
It was then that Levi stood from his spot on the steps, stretching his legs for a moment before walking closer towards you. He looked different now when you saw him in this low light now that you could see him completely. Less composed, less sharp. Like for almost a moment he wasn’t the strongest soldier that humanity had ever seen and he was just . . . Levi. He stood before you, teacup lazily slung in between his fingers of the hand that rested beside him. You stepped back a pace, and then another, wanting to put as much space in between him and you so that he wouldn’t see just how terrified you actually were that day.
“You say that,” he replied, “but you throw yourself into training like you’re trying to prove something. You overextend your swings, you ignore openings, and you stop thinking when your emotions get involved. If you want to survive more than a week when we go on our expeditions, you need to start thinking like a soldier instead of a scared little girl. Or maybe you just have a death wish. Is that what you want?”
The words were like a slap to your face. It knocked you in the same way that it had on the training field. Something sharp twisted violently into your chest. You always hated the way that Eren blew his top off before thinking about his words first, always chastising him while you were supposed to be considered the more level-headed one. But Captain Levi had struck a nerve, one that you couldn’t find in you to settle. It wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want to die. You wanted to survive. Levi watched you carefully, gray eyes fixed on your face with that same unbearable focus. He was testing you, you knew this.
“You’re angry,” he stated. Baiting you.
“No shit.”
“You need to figure out what you want. Then you’ll become a good soldier.”
Levi stepped closer, and this time you didn’t move back. He was close enough that you could see the push and pull of his chest raising with every breath he took. You could smell the faint smell of tea leaves and clean linen beneath the cold night air. If you looked down even slightly, you would notice the way his fingers rested loosely around the porcelain cup. You kept your eyes fixed stubbornly on his face instead. The corner of your mouth raised for a moment, trying hard to keep your emotions underneath the surface, pretending that your skin wasn’t crawling and heating up at the same time because of how close he was.
Silence was deafening. Even the owls had ceased to hoot. The trees were listening. Understanding. Your eyes watched his, a connection pulled so tight that it felt as though it could snap at any moment.
“If that’s the key to becoming a good soldier,” you asked softly, “then you must have gotten what you want, right, Captain?”
The muscle connecting his jaw to his throat tensed. You wouldn’t have even noticed it if you weren’t so close to him.
“No.”
The answer came immediately. Like it was the only thing keeping you from tearing open his ribcage and examining his heart on a silver platter. Flat. Certain. The answer lodged itself somewhere beneath your sternum, your body keeping it for later. Levi looked away first, breaking the eye contact that had briefly connected you.
“Go back to bed,” he said.
Then, after a beat:
“Before I write you up.”
The cicadas started to hum again.
The next few days passed in a blur, constellations of different moments that could only be equated in the same way that more bruises and more aches made its way on your body. Training. Cleaning. Repairs. More training. The Scouts did not seem particularly interested in whether or not recruits were exhausted and although you could complain, a part of you liked the routine of it. You were able to get lost in yourself and you always were doing things with your friends. You were barely ever alone in the things that you suffered with.
At least now you had stopped waking up screaming. That counted for something.
When you were in those moments where you weren’t with your friends, your thoughts betrayed you and you thought back to that moment with Levi.
Then you must have gotten what you wanted, right, Captain?
No.
No. A single word that danced through your entire body if you thought too much about it. No. Spoken so plainly and so sure-of-himself. It lingered, lodged deep inside of you no matter how many drills you threw yourself into, or how many hours you spent scrubbing blood from training gear or patching tears in your uniform or Eren’s. Captain Levi had looked at you that night like he saw directly through you.
And worse, sometimes when you laid in bed and thought about the way that the moonlight cast across his sharp features, you came to a mutual agreement between yourself.
You had seen something in him too.
“Move your arm.”
Eren grabbed your wrist as it twisted to tie the last of the laces against your brown boots, leaving them to fall flat. You were sitting on the edge of a bench outside with him before you were supposed to run drills with your ODM gear.
“Ow.”
“You really need to take better care of yourself.” He brushed his thumb over a bruise.
“You are possibly the worst person to have that thought considering how hard you pushed yourself all through basic,” you teased, snatching your wrist back from him and continuing to tie your shoes. Morning light spilled through the makeshift shades, catching along both of your bodies. Eren frowned at the bruise for a moment longer, like it had personally offended him.
He opened his mouth, but he was cut off by Mikasa. “We’re going to be late.”
Your group walked briskly to the forest edge, the path worn into the grass that had been walked through by probably hundreds of soldiers throughout the years. All to the same spot in the middle of the forest where you practiced slipping through the air with your ODM gear. The morning air smelled damp, last night’s rain storm helping to emit dew and pine. Somewhere high above, birds called to one another.
After Trost, all of you had become almost painfully attached to one another. Which wasn’t a bad thing, even though soldiers were supposed to stay unemotional and professional on the field, you couldn’t help the connections you had made along the way.
Even Jean.
A sharp whistle cut through the forest, and you fiddled with the last of your gear while staring forward at the noise. There were older Scouts there looking like they had been training for a while already, ODM gear attached to them like they were made for it. In the middle, Captain Levi was there, obviously the source of the whistle to gather everyone's attention. Morning light shined through the trees overhead into fractured pieces, catching against the metal canisters strapped to his thighs, illuminating onto the dark green cloak hanging from his shoulders.
Levi’s gaze swept once across the larger group of recruits that had gathered, expression unreadable. When his eyes passed over you, you could’ve sworn that they had slowed. Barely, but enough for you to recognize the faint glimmer behind them. And then they moved again, mouth open to state, “Today’s drills will be focused on maneuvering through dense coverage. Meaning that if any of you idiots decide to slam yourselves into a tree, at least try not to break the equipment while you’re at it. They’re expensive to make.”
You heard Connie stifle a laugh from behind you. “He definitely practices saying those things in the mirror.”
“Pair off,” Levi ordered. “If I watch any of you nearly kill yourselves today, I will make the next drill worse.”
Everyone immediately disbanded the group into pairs, Eren slotting himself beside you. Not that you minded, training with Eren was easy in the same way that breathing was. You knew each other’s habits too well after all the training you did together in basic. It was you who helped him, along with Reiner and Bertholdt, to train on the ODM gear that kept him in the military. He knew that you always favored your left side, and you knew the exact second that he was going to do something stupid before he even thought about it.
Around you, soldiers began to launch upward through the trees one by one, the familiar sound of the ODM gear firing with sharp metallic bursts. You had always loved this part, the moment right before taking off where gravity seemed to loosen its grip on you. Eren nudged your shoulder. “Race you to the far marker.”
“You will never beat me,” you chided.
“If you have enough time to flirt during drills, you clearly aren’t training hard enough, Yeager.”
Captain Levi.
Before you could even look behind at your Captain, you shot up into the air. “See you there, Eren!”
“Not fair, you didn’t tell me you were —” Eren’s voice dulled into the trees as you swung forward.
The world launched beneath you, gas hissing sharply from the canisters strapped to your hips while your wires shot forward to the trees, catching thick branches in their wake. You had practiced so much with this gear that it was as easy as walking. Past you would be proud, knowing how hard it was to gain the skills that you used so effortlessly now. Momentum grabbed hold while you swung between the trees, sunlight breaking across your vision. Release, fire, anchor swing. It was freedom. This was why you endured everything else. Nothing else mattered in the world when you were flying through the trees.
When you made your way to the first marker that had been slashed into the top of a tree, you took the time to look behind you. Eren was a few meters away from you, his green eyes looking into yours as you turned the corner for the next portion of the route.
A grin had spread across his face. “Oh, so now you wanna slow down?” He shouted.
You laughed softly. “You’re just too easy to beat. I wanted to give you a little help.”
Eren gained enough speed to almost catch your shoulder, shooting through the trees side by side with you for several seconds. This has always come naturally between the two of you, the movement and the instinct of it all. Eren angled sharply around a branch and for a split moment he was ahead of you, attempting to cut you off before the next marker.
Absolutely not.
You fired an anchor higher, slinging your body upward instead of around. You soared right above him perfectly, your stomach flipping with the sudden height. A laugh escaped him, loud and unrestrained. You hadn’t heard him laugh like that since Trost and that thought made your chest soften. It was good. This was good.
“Watch it!” A voice cut through the forest, suspiciously close to you.
When you looked forward, there was no mistaking it. Someone cut right in front of you, the move almost perfect if you hadn’t been lost in your own thoughts. Instead, their wire crossed dangerously close to yours. In an attempt to slow yourself, you angled a hook farther down, as low into the trees as possible as the metal of your gear shrieked.
It wasn’t enough though. Wires collided with a metallic shriek that almost sounded violent. For one horrible second, momentum yanked your body sideways while the tension of your gear snapped beneath you, a singular wire holding you up on the branches that broke under the weight of its tension, snapping in two. Trees blurred together as your balance disappeared entirely.
You closed your eyes, waiting for the impact of a tree to hit your body. But it never came, instead you felt the curve of another body hit your back, a strong arm catching around your waist on instinct just as the two of you slammed through a cluster of lower, yet still large, branches. Leaves exploded around the both of you, the sound of splintering wood cracking through your ears.
The ground was next.
Pain burst across your shoulder as the impact knocked the air from your lungs. Damp earth smeared against your uniform while the world seemed to be rolling in a collage of green and blue. You leaned your head forward, the sound of ringing in your ears overcoming any other noise until you finally seemed to have some grip back on reality.
Breathing. Close enough that you could feel it against your skin. A part of you almost wondered if you had crashed into Eren during the fall, since he was the closest person to you at the time. When you rewound your memory, you could barely see the person who passed in front of you. It could’ve been Eren. It had to be Eren.
Your eyes blinked open slowly, vision swimming for a moment before finally focusing enough to understand exactly what you were looking down at.
Captain Levi.
One of his arms remained wrapped tightly around your waist, instinct having forced him to catch you before the both of you hit the ground. His green cloak was twisted around you, branches and crushed leaves tangled through the fabric of his uniform. His fingers were dug hard enough through the harness that you could feel the pressure of them. It was apparent that he kept holding on before the both of you had slammed into the ground.
You were sprawled almost completely over him. The impact had tangled you together in a mess of limbs and ODM wires, one of your thighs resting between your legs while your chest pressed up against his own, so close that you could feel the weight of his heartbeat between your own. In the chaos of the fall, your hands had twisted into the front of his grey shirt, clinging onto him even now as you struggled to catch your breath, your knuckles white.
Too warm.
Too close.
Leaves continued to fall all around you, a considerable hole in the canopy of the forest, allowing for more sun to come peeking through than normal. There were several leaves caught in Levi’s dark hair and a stick poked right out of a hole that had formed in his shirt near his shoulder. The forest floor was littered with bark and snapped branches, obvious evidence of a disaster. Your racing heart was slamming blood so hard into your veins that you could hear your pulse. Levi was staring directly up at you, eyes sharp and narrowed beneath strands of hair that had fallen out of their neat place, splaying across his forehead.
The hand around your waist shifted, tightening reflexively before it seemed he realized he was touching you and released it to fall onto the ground. Your own hands unclenched from his shirt and you stretched your fingers, ignoring the way that you could see ten fingers on one hand instead of five, an obvious sign that you hit your head a little bit too hard. His gaze flickered from them to your face.
“You’re bleeding.”
Were you? Blinking a few times, you quickly sat up and assessed what you could see of your body, still sitting on top of him, your hips slotted against his own. When you reached one of your hands towards your face, it was then that you felt the gash on your cheek, splitting down your cheekbone and stopping, before another cut was felt on your top lip. Blood speckled against your fingertips, maroon in color, still flowing out. You turned your attention back to Captain Levi, who widened his eyes like he was trying to motion at something. Like he was trying to say —
Get off.
You scrambled backward, elbow slipping against the wet leaves beneath you that you almost toppled sideways. Pain flared from your shoulder, but humiliation was the only thing that you could feel. “I —” your voice cracked, making you clear your throat quickly, mortified while trying to untangle your ODM wires from his and somehow making the knots worse.
Levi sat upright in one smooth motion while you were fighting for some sense of dignity on the forest floor. Dirt was streaked across one of his cheeks while leaves seemed to stubbornly stay tangled through his hair. He looked deeply offended, though not as much with what happened with you but with the uncleanlyness of the whole situation. You probably would have laughed if you weren’t actively feeling as though you would die from the humiliation of it all.
So instead you fought with the tangled mess of wires, the metal cables groaning angrily in protest. He watched you for a few moments before reaching over.
“Stop,” he said, flat and immediate. “You’re just making it worse.” Levi leaned closer as his fingers moved through the wires while you sat there and pretended that you didn’t notice how close he was again. His knuckle pressed briefly against your thigh and he pulled against a particularly stubborn knot near the harness of your hip. He hummed in annoyance and you wondered if he had been in this situation before with anyone. If anyone had felt his pulse thrumming through his body like you did.
The thought hit you so suddenly that you recoiled from it like it had physically hit you. Your eyes fixed on his hands, noting the way that he was becoming more irritated the more that he loosened one knot and moved onto the next. There were callouses along his knuckles and the pads of his fingers and you hated that you took so much time to map the contours against his skin. He gave one final sharp tug against the last cable and the wires finally snapped, shifting your body slightly forward from where you sat.
“I— Captain I’m so—” You stuttered out.
“Save it,” Levi interrupted, hands braced against the harness at your hip for a second longer before he let go, standing up despite the obvious wince spread across his face. It created enough distance between the both of you that you finally felt as though you could breathe properly again. “We just have to wait for someone to come and help. I really don’t feel like lugging your concussed ass all the way back to base. And with the way you screamed, someone should be coming soon.”
He didn’t help you up, but a part of you didn’t want him to. The thought of standing up almost made you want to vomit. You stayed where you were on the ground with the crushed leaves, one hand pressed against the cut on your cheek while trying really hard not to acknowledge how violently your head was pounding now that the adrenaline of the whole ordeal was wearing off. You tilted your head back and forth to try and ease the tension in your neck, watching as the forest seemed to magnify and tense the more you did it.
“Will you stop moving?” Levi told you, scoffing and shaking his head, crossing his arms across his chest. “You’re making things worse, again. Stop.”
A sharp metallic hiss echoed through the trees.
“Finally,” Levi stated.
Commander Erwin landed first, wires retracting smoothly into place. His frame towered over you for a moment, staring at you before looking at Levi, obviously expecting some type of answer for what happened. Then from the trees you saw Hange begin to land, falling into the ground with not as much ease as Erwin, but still with a similar commanding authority. Erwin looked around the clearing that the two of you had forcibly made along with the shattered canopy and broken branches barely hanging on the trees.
“ . . . I see,” Erwin said carefully.
Hange’s eyes lit up behind their glasses with immediate excitement. “Oh my god,” they paused, spinning in place while looking upward through the trees. “Did you two fall from there?”
“No,” Levi said. “We teleported.”
“Really!?”
“No, you blabbering idiot.”
Hange seemed to barely process the insult and instead crouched directly in front of you, hands reaching for your face with unsettling enthusiasm crossing their features. “Oooooh, nasty split on the cheekbone,” they said, tilting your chin carefully to see it more clearly in the light. “This is awesome, we can finally see what type of injuries happen when someone falls from that height! Can I—”
Erwin stuck a hand up. “Maybe we can keep the scientific questions for later?”
You looked at Commander Erwin with a puzzling look. “Woah,” you said, your vision begging to fuzz and blacken. “Why do you have two hands on one arm?” Your body began swaying farther to the ground with every passing moment.
Somewhere, far away now, someone said your name.
Then, nothing.
The last thing you could see was the dirt on the forest ground getting closer and closer to your eyes.
Newly single, you decide to fly solo to the Maldives, because why not enjoy a non-refundable trip your ex already booked? Unfortunately, as you discovered on board the airplane, he had the same idea.
ao3 ☼ wc: 9,892 ☼ based on this request!
tags: Leon Kennedy/cisfem!reader, any era Leon, smut, angst, hate sex, leon is an eater, dry humping, arguing!!, teasing, dirty talk, one bed trope, creampie, p in v, nipple play (f receiving), semi-public sex (reader gets eaten out in a sauna), mentions of cheating (no one actually cheated tho), reader protests a lot but doesn't mean it
“Group one, welcome aboard.”
You picked up your carry-on and fished your boarding pass from your purse as you shuffled into line, clutching it tightly until you held it over the scanner with a beep. “Enjoy your trip,” the attendant said with a smile. You returned it with a thank-you and trekked through the boarding bridge until you were breathing the sweet, stale air of the cabin, thanking yourself for packing a hoodie as the conditioned air nipped your arms. After all, you didn’t need cold-weather clothes where you were going.
You settled into your window seat and set your bag in the empty one next to you, kicking your feet in the ample leg room. First class seats. Your ex-boyfriend’s job really had really some perks. If only he’d shown you more upsides to being with him while you were together.
You tried not to be sad that the middle seat was occupied by luggage instead of him. You should be nestling in arm-to-arm right now, flipping through travel brochures and deciding what movie to watch on the way, but instead, you were alone.
Hard to complain about a solo trip to the Maldives, though. You’re just glad he couldn’t refund the tickets. You’d get the last laugh, after all.
“Excuse me, miss, you’re in my–”
Your heart stopped beating and dread filled your body as you looked up to find Leon with the same slack-jawed expression. He was thinking the same thought as you: no fucking way.
You could see his eyes turn red and his jaw clench as he threw his duffel bag in the overhead compartment, and then he returned to you, who was still watching in disbelief.
He gestured to your luggage in the seat that was supposed to remain empty. “Can you at least move your shit?”
All you could do was stare and guffaw. He rolled his eyes and grabbed it himself with a heavy pinch of attitude, throwing it alongside his own.
“Hey, be careful with that, my laptop’s in there,” you snapped, his harsh treatment willing you to speak. He ignored you and plopped down to sit.
Both of your eyes were set on the headrest in front of you as the painfully awkward situation set in, but he was too close not to notice every little thing. His hands were clasped together to squeeze his biceps in, very clearly not wanting to brush arms with you. His breathing was heavy and you were sure he was irate. Just the slightest sound of his breath through his nose pissed you off.
Oh my god, I’m gonna be stuck here with him for hours, you realized, and then a whole five days on a remote island.
You hadn’t even left the boarding gate, and your vacation was already ruined. Not only that, but you were caught red-handed trying to go yourself.
“I didn’t think you were going to come,” you squeaked out.
“No shit,” he whispered harshly. “Non-refundable, remember?”
“Yeah.”
It was excruciatingly awkward. Your hopes of dozing off until you landed were dashed by the palpable tension in the pressurized air, and each minute felt like an hour. He radiated so much anger and annoyance that you were surprised it didn’t set off the smoke detectors. You felt bad for the other first class passengers, because surely you were shattering the feeling of luxury for the whole section.
You tried to think of a way out of it, but then you lifted off and the wheels retracted, and you were totally and completely stuck. You cursed the Wright brothers for inventing what was now your cruel enclosure.
You rested your head against the window, looking out at the clouds below and succumbing to your fate. Five days with him, and then a flight home, too. It was supposed to be your anniversary. He’d booked a romantic cabin. You didn’t know if you’d survive.
When you landed, he didn’t even take your bags down for you. He slung his over his shoulder and walked away. You stared daggers at his back as you yanked yours down.
There was no reason not to be beside him, although you kept a minimum buffer of six feet between as you waited for your checked bags and the shuttle to the resort. It should’ve looked beautiful as you approached, the sun setting on the horizon and the palm trees in the wind, but it looked more like a prison. And then, you got to your cabin.
One bed, of course. This was a couple’s cabin after all.
“Looks like you’re taking the couch,” Leon taunted and entered the room. You left your things by the door and quickly tailed him to argue.
“Absolutely not, are you kidding me?”
“Who paid for this again?” he retorted with raised eyebrows and a tilt of his head.
Your face was scrunching and burning with anger. Every ounce of chivalry he showed when you were together was clearly dead and gone. You couldn’t argue with his point, though.
“You’re a real asshole, Leon. You were planning on soaking this trip up on your own, same as me.”
“Now neither of us can, since you decided to take advantage of it.”
“Oh, take advantage? Like you took advantage of your missions to oggle at other girls?”
That shut him up. It was the reason you broke up. It cut through the tension and hung in the air like Damocles’ sword. He grumbled and picked his bag up again, leaving the room in a storm, not missing the chance to bump roughly against your shoulder on the way out.
“Fine. You take it tonight, and then we’ll switch. Fair?”
“Fine.” You smirked with satisfaction as you moved into the room. We’ll see about that.
You closed the door and collapsed into the plush king-sized bed, letting yourself sink inside the fluffy comforters. You got up to unpack into the dresser, moving in with no intention of trading with him tomorrow, sighing as dusk took over the view outside the window. It really was beautiful here.
You made a decision: you were here, and the only thing that wasn’t perfect was your company. You’d do your absolute best to enjoy this trip in spite of him. Might even feel good to have him watch you being perfectly happy and blissful without him.
You itched to wash the airplane germs off of your skin. That’s when you realized the first obstacle to your relaxation: you’d marked the bedroom as your territory, making the rest of the place effectively his. You flinched as you turned the doorknob and put on a smug expression as soon as you opened it.
“I’m showering,” you announced as you beelined for the bathroom, not stopping to hear any response or even look at where he was.
Your second mistake was not bringing your nightclothes along with you, which you only realized when you turned the water off. You pulled the towel tightly around you and did your best to hold your head high as you beelined back to the bedroom. You groaned after closing the door behind you. Relaxing was gonna be harder than you thought.
Even more so when you got ready the next morning and remembered you’d exclusively packed your hottest, most flattering, boner-inducing bikinis in the hopes of having a steamy vacation rendezvous with a well-off stranger that’d make even the best romance authors bow before you. Maybe you still could, but Leon would be the primary individual who saw you wearing them. But you certainly weren’t bringing any bachelors back to your place. Leon’s bad attitude in the living room would scare them off if you even found the balls to try.
Whatever. This was your vacation, not his. Might feel good to know he sees all the heads you turn. Rub it in his face that you’re available to every man but him.
You wrap a skirt around you— not that it covers much, it’s more of an accessory— and leave your room.
Breakfast is on the stove, and Leon isn’t around. You shrug and grab a plate, filling it with room temperature eggs as you wait for bread to crisp in the toaster.
You lean back on the counter and take in the place you’re staying at. Tall windows with plenty of natural light shining onto the luxurious furniture and reflecting off the glass frames that house tasteful artwork on the walls. A fully stocked kitchen and hardwood floors that are begging to be covered in sand as evidence of your enjoyment. Everything so clean it practically sparkles. It’s not huge, but it’s nice. Really, really nice.
It would’ve been so much nicer if you were here for the intended purpose, if you weren’t newly single, if your ex wasn’t lurking around and was wrapping his arms around you instead, before your breakup transformed him into a raging dick.
The toaster pops and you take your plate to the table. You look at the sofa in the living room and see the tousled throw pillows and the lingering shape of his body still inlayed in the upholstery.
You look up at the sound of him entering from the bathroom wearing nothing but swim shorts. You quickly mind your business and look down to your next bite of food. You know what his body looks like, you don’t need to stare. You definitely don’t want a reason to add his rippling pecs and washboard abs to the things you should’ve been enjoying here.
Leon gazes at the stove as he passes through the kitchen on his way to his makeshift bed. “I see you helped yourself.”
“Yup. Went cold, though.” A hidden double meaning.
He raised a brow as he sat down on the couch, picking up the pamphlet on the coffee table. “You’re welcome for making enough for you.”
You sighed and leaned back in the dining chair as you swallowed. “I think we’d both appreciate not spending the week fighting. Can you do that?”
“Easy, we’re sure off to a great start.” Dripping with sarcasm.
He was really getting under your skin now. You rubbed your palms into your eyes and picked up your empty plate to throw it in the kitchen before grabbing your totebag of beachside essentials.
“Whatever, Leon. I’m going to enjoy myself regardless. See you around.”
He was very much distracted by your ass moving under your very small bikini as you walked out the door. He blinked to snap back to reality.
“Don’t charge your drinks to the room,” he called after you. You were far enough away that you could pretend not to hear. A drink was a great idea. Who cares that it’s still morning? You’re on vacation.
You really did enjoy yourself. You spent a good while walking around and exploring the resort, and you had absolutely zero complaints. The ocean glittered all around you, an inviting clear blue, you even saw some cute little fishes swimming under the piered walkway. You took a menu from the day spa and decided you’d absolutely book the sauna at some point. The main bar was empty of people, but you couldn’t wait to see it at night. It was kinda fun to roam around and pretend you could afford to be here on your own.
You’d killed an hour and a half and decided to head for the beach. The sun was rising towards noon and was starting to draw sweat from your skin, which made a cocktail sound better than ever. You hummed as your toes met the cool white sand and sauntered over to the beachside bar, all smiles as you relaxed onto the stool and ordered whatever sounded the most refreshing. The tender stopped you before you left with it to ask if you reserved a beach chair.
“Oh, I didn’t know they had to be reserved.”
“They’re all booked up for today. What’s your room number? I can double check if you have one?”
“Sure, thank you.” You sipped through the straw as they clicked on a tablet, until they shared the good news. It’d been reserved in advance as part of the package. “Amazing, thank you!”
You giddy stride as your day got off to a good start was cut short as you approached the chairs. It was just like the airplane, but now Leon had beaten you there. You had half a mind to turn heel until you remembered your goal not to let him rain on your sunny day.
You sat down with a huff, ignoring the way he looked over from under his sunglasses. You pulled out your book and settled in, cocktail still in hand, nestled under the shade of the wide umbrella above.
“Enjoying yourself?”
“Yeah, I am,” he replied.
You wanted to keep it civil, and the tense small talk was a start, but you just couldn’t bite your tongue, could you?
“I figured, plenty of girls in bikinis to keep you entertained.”
He looked up as he started ranting, waving his hands towards the sky like he was talking to god and not you sitting next to him. You closed the book you hadn’t even began as you watched him.
“I told you it wasn’t like that, jesus christ. I didn’t lie to you, I didn’t cheat on you, I don’t know how you expect me to prove a negative.”
You nodded slowly. “Sure fooled me. Guess you’re not even sorry anymore.”
He sighed and covered his hands with his face. He wasn’t lying, but explaining himself was just as impossible now as it’d been in the days-long argument before he threw in the towel, which in your eyes just confirmed that he’d exchanged you for another and used the argument as an excuse to drop the burden of being taken. He regretted the decision after, knowing it was driven by emotional impulse in the heat of an argument, and was ultimately the cowardly way out. The way you accepted it and left in a string of insults solidified it as a lasting choice. It made you certain that he’d actually done something wrong, and that frustrated him worst of all, especially as it was thrown back in his face.
But what was he to do? Try to get you back? He was the one who broke up with you, and the door back in was barricaded shut.
When you stood up and took off your skirt before announcing you’d go for a swim, unwrapping your body so close to him that he could smack your ass if he wanted, he decided he had to try. God bless polarized shades for assuring him you wouldn’t be able to see him watch you strut all the way into the water if you’d looked back.
He grumbled as you plunged below the surface, wetting your hair and reemerging like a siren. He reclined back and closed his eyes, pulling his knees up a bit to hide the tent that was forming in his shorts.
When you got out of the water, his chair was empty, and it remained so for the rest of the many hours you spent cozied up with your book and the melting ice in your cocktail. It was hard to focus on reading, though, as your thoughts always went back to the words he’d said.
There was still a part of you that ached to believe him, that wished it never happened and you could pick back up where you were. But he was the one who broke up with you. He didn’t want you. It wouldn’t be any closure to believe him because then you’d have to mourn a relationship that ended over nothing.
The sun on the outside and the alcohol on the inside pulled you into drowsiness, and the breeze lulled you to sleep.
You woke up with a start and rummaged through your tote bag for your phone. It was four in the afternoon. You’d totally slept through lunch, and now you were starving.
You rubbed the sleep off your face and decided to take another dip, letting the water wake you up, giving you enough energy to walk back to your abode. You thought Leon might be out until you saw the back patio doors were left open and you poked your head through to see him sitting on the edge, kicking his feet in the water as he looked out in the distance.
He hadn’t noticed you were there yet, and you couldn’t help but watch him. God, his back muscles were so hot. You walked back in to avert yourself.
“I’m back,” you called from the living room. He turned his head to see you. You sat on the carpet and stretched a little bit, enjoying the fresh air pooling inside.
“Hey,” he said, and gazed back ahead.
You furrowed your brow. He sounded kinda sad. Dejected maybe? Gloomy. It made you feel bad, because if he was, you definitely caused it. You just couldn’t help yourself. You paused and pursed your lips.
“I’m sorry for–”
“Don’t,” he interrupted. “It’s fine. I’m an asshole, I know.”
You inhaled to say something sharp, but he cut you off again. “No, I mean it. I’m not just saying it ‘cause that’s how you see me.”
You rocked on the ground, a puzzled expression on your face. It was the closest thing to an apology that you’d gotten so far, and remorse was the last thing you expected to come back here and find. You thought he had more to say, but he must have decided against it, because he stood and walked past you to the bathroom, leaving you alone and kinda confused.
Whatever. You didn’t have to help him with his emotions anymore. He’d relieved you of the job. You leaned forward and grabbed the pamphlet from the coffee table, looking for your restaurant options.
You felt a little weird as you sat alone at your table for two. You’d idly scanned around for wealthy benefactors, but they all had a well-dressed lady on their arm or a gold band on their finger. And none looked anywhere near as good as the man who was back in your room.
You rested your chin in your hand as you stared out at the amber sunset on the ebbing expanse of the ocean. The candle on your table flickered and birds chirped as they flew towards their nests for the night. Your food arrived and you dug in, then left cash on the table so you didn’t spend more time waiting around in silence.
You returned to find Leon kicked back on your bed, scrolling on his phone with his legs crossed. There goes your calm mood.
“Oh, hey. Food any good?”
“Are you seriously gonna make me sleep on the couch?”
He shrugged and didn’t look up. “You agreed. I swapped the blankets for you.”
“Unbelievable,” you muttered as you swiped up your necessities from the dresser and the bedside.
“If you really want to sleep here, we can share.”
“You wish, asshole.”
You closed the door behind you and fell into the couch. It felt like concrete compared to the bed.
The next morning, you woke up to the sound of clinking dishes and pressed the pillow over your ears with a groan.
“Morning sunshine,” you heard him mock through the pillow feathers. That was enough to ensure you woke up on the wrong side of the sofa.
It was all grumbles and slammed doors as you got yourself ready. You dragged your blanket back to the bed and returned his to the couch dramatically. And then, the daunting task of getting dressed.
Your hands hovered over a cherry red bikini with a smirk. That was one way to get under his skin.
You sauntered out of the room like you were unaffected by the sour start to the day. Sure, you could’ve put clothes on over your bikini for now, but where was the fun in that?
Leon, however, was made of glass. It was all too obvious the way his neck craned as he watched and his mouth ever-so-slightly parted.
You grabbed the sunscreen from the entryway and stepped onto the back patio, keeping the doors open as you covered your body in the sheer, glossy mist. You took your sweet time rubbing it in, literally and definitely figuratively. It was important to get in every nook and cranny, wasn’t it? You made sure you didn’t miss a spot, gliding your fingers an inch under the fabric in case it moved around.
You suddenly looked back up to catch Leon staring. He was caught red-handed and stuttered in a thin attempt to act like he wasn’t looking. You shook the canister in your hand.
“You need some?”
“Um, uh, yeah.”
He walked over to you all too quickly, acting like a desperate schoolboy. You smirked as he stood in front of you with visible nervousness, waiting.
“Here ya go.”
You shoved the sunscreen into his chest and walked away, leaving him there to die.
As you pulled orange juice from the fridge, you heard him scoff, and then the quiet sound of the spray. You didn’t watch. No way you’d make the same mistake he just did.
He set it firmly down on the kitchen counter as you sipped from your glass.
“That was cruel.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You flashed a smile so sweet it could’ve rot his teeth. He shook his head and gathered his things from the entryway. Sunglasses, sandals, other things in already in his tote (one you definitely bought for him).
“I’m hitting the beach. You coming?”
You grabbed the sunscreen and followed. “Sure.”
The tension was better now that you felt like you had the upper hand. You were actually able to read your book as the waves and bristling palm fronds sang a sweet white noise around you. Leon reclined his seat back to lay down, hands resting behind his head as he soaked up the shade, his earphones acting as a room divider between you. It really wasn’t half bad.
Before long it was time for lunch. You decided to avoid another unplanned nap and led the way back, being certain to put your hips into your walk as he followed slowly behind. The minute the door closed behind you, the easy vibes were over.
“Are you trying to kill me?”
“Is it working?”
But instead of Leon walking away in a huff of frustration or returning a sarcastic jab, something in his gaze darkened in a way that made you feel almost scared. He took measured steps towards you until he was close enough that you stepped back to keep the distance, like he was closing in on his prey.
“You’ve been nothing but a bitch to me this whole trip, acting like you hate me,” he said, voice low and husky, looking at you from under his brow.
“I do hate you.”
You wished it sounded more confident as you tried to match his serious expression. The back of your thighs hit the sofa’s armrest and you gripped it to keep balance, trying to appear as if you were half-sitting on it casually, as if you weren’t just there because he’d cornered you.
“Then why are you acting like you want something?”
You inhaled sharply as he leaned over you, his hands on either side of the armrest, caging you in, so close you had to lean back.
Shit, maybe you’d gone too far. You looked back and forth between his eyes as you tried to get a grip on the situation and where it was going. You should’ve thought your teasing through.
He cocked his head mockingly. “Where’s all that venom now, babe?” He raised an index finger to curl under the string of your bikini that rested between your breasts, pulling it away from your skin and letting it go with a snap that stole your breath. “Y’don’t seem to be talking back now, huh?”
The air went thick as you held his eye contact. A smirk bloomed on his face. And then you were flying backwards onto the couch, and he crawled right over with you.
He was fervent and hungry, devouring your lips with wet, open mouthed kisses that were all tongue and spit. If you had ownership over your mouth you would’ve gasped, but you were struggling for air. You held onto his arms and felt the warm, stiff muscles of his biceps flexing in your grip, making you squeeze them tighter without even meaning to.
You also didn’t mean to arch your back, sending your hips curling against his hard dick in his boxers. You took in the much-needed oxygen as he unlatched from your lips, instead nipping and sucking the skin under your jaw, making him chuckle before he pressed his body closer into you, grinding against your bikini-clad center.
“Your mouth is much better used for this than all that smart talk,” he said as he put two fingers into your open mouth. You knit your brows as your tongue instinctively met the salty pads of his fingertips, and he pushed them further in response. The meat of his palm lightly pushed up from under your chin as he made a blunt command. “Suck.”
You held back from moaning around his digits as he grinded into you with more precision, feeling the wetness begin to seep out under the friction of your bikini as he rubbed himself against your clothed clit. Your head was spinning and you were lost in a daze as he slowly drew his fingers in and out of the vacuum of your mouth. Your eyes flitted open as he rolled his hips with intoxicatingly slow intention, and you found him staring down at you with cruel amusement.
You turned your head and all but spat his fingers out, pushing your hands against his pecs to get him off, but you didn’t try all that hard, really. You looked away from him in embarrassment.
“Get off of me, Leon.”
He pressed his cock against you firmly, keeping it there, ceasing his movements. Your body betrayed you as your hips twitched in search of movement.
“You sure that’s what you want?” He pressed in a little further and you swore you felt him throb against you. Or maybe it was your own sex that was throbbing. You weren’t gonna think about it enough to find out. You couldn’t think about anything when he leaned in and toyed with the hem of your top and took your legs tensing around him as permission to pull it down and latch onto your nipple.
“Oh,” you moaned in surprise at the sensation. It felt like ages since you’d been touched like this, or at all. His tongue slipped around your nipple in crude, soft circles. When he sucked it up into his mouth, he moaned around it, and the vibration sent an electric currents straight to your pulsing cunt. When he pulled off with a wet pop and started flicking up and down over it, you had to put all your effort into not writhing needily under him.
“Could do this somewhere else on you,” he mumbled before sucking and twirling his tongue again.
You felt like you were losing your mind. You needed to get a grip before you completely lost sight of your resolve. This was already miles beyond a bad idea; letting him go further would be insane. You really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, even as his hand brushed your stomach and traveled downward towards your navel. Especially then.
You pushed against his chest with a lot more purpose. “I said get off of me.”
He did, leaning back on his haunches, one knee in between your legs and another on the ground, arms up in a mock surrender.
“Whatever you say, babe.”
You scrambled to rise, yanking your bikini back in place and running your fingers sharply through your hair before you hightailed it towards the bedroom, face red and still out of breath.
“You’re a fucking pervert, Leon. Stay the hell away from me.” You knew he was smiling as you slammed the door behind you.
You felt gross. You could still feel his saliva coating your hard nipple under your top, could still feel his body heat on you. Worse, you were so turned on you felt dizzy. You changed out of your bikini to get the evidence off of you. You paused in horror as your bottoms were mid-thigh, heart hammering as you saw the thick, creamy evidence of your arousal. You bunched them up and threw them in the corner to get them as far away from you as possible, as if that’d separate you from the feelings in your body.
You shouldn’t have let him get that far, not even close to it. And you’d let him get so close to giving you more. Thank god you stopped him so he wouldn’t discover how wet a little dry humping had made you.
You threw on a fresh pair of underwear, the least sexy ones you’d packed, and pulled on a t-shirt and shorts. You threw your hair up in a clip and stormed out, kicking your sandals on while you were halfway out the door.
“Where ya going?”
“Out,” you barked as you fumbled to step into your stupid non-cooperative shoes.
“Where to?”
“Away from you,” you turned to nearly shout as you finally got them on, and then you were off, hands in fists at your side as you walked towards you-didn’t-know-where.
You walked past the guest services building and past the bars and restaurants. You thought about stopping for food, but you’d lost your appetite now, and you didn’t want to sit out in the open where he might find you. A sign pointed towards a different shore than you’d been going to, so you followed it. A five-minute walk and your sandals met sand, and you just kept walking, putting as much distance between you and Leon as possible.
The effort of walking through soft sand in the beating afternoon sunshine forced you to finally slow down. The rigidity of your body from your wired nervous system was replaced by the soreness of your calves and the sweat you wiped from your forehead, forcing you to relax to conserve your energy, or at least focus on your body and not your racing thoughts. You should’ve brought the sunscreen, and you stepped under the shade of the palms that line the far side of the shore. Eventually, you reached the end of the beach where it curved into a small peninsula and sat down under a tree.
You were physically more relaxed, but as you gazed out at the water, your head was filled with the angry white noise of cement crushers and destructive heavy machinery loudly whirring and clanking. Your mind was a demolition zone as you grappled with frustration and confusion and the stupid, undeniable want that still throbbed between your legs.
You wished you brought your phone, but you’d left it in your beach bag. You could really benefit from phoning a friend right now. But what did you hope to hear? That you should kick him out somehow, or you should give him another shot, even if it’s just for hot vacation sex? You wished you could do both, and it made you want to rip your hair out.
You stayed there for a long while, until you calmed down enough to enjoy the scenery again, and decided it was best to avoid him altogether. Then you’d have less opportunities to speak and wouldn’t risk seeing the results of your provocations again, and you wouldn’t have to worry about anything happening or not.
When you got back, he made that hard. He had takeout sitting on the counter next to an unopened bottle of wine. The very kind you liked.
“What is this, an apology?” you muttered to yourself as you inspected the label. You grabbed a fork and a glass, took it all to your room, and ate cross-legged on the bed with your laptop open playing your comfort show. You were glad for the large windows, because even holed up inside, you didn’t miss out on the tropic amber sunset.
The wine didn’t help your thoughts, though. You were a touch dehydrated from your long walk, and one glass hit harder than it should’ve. You set the container of food down on the bedside table and curled into the sheets, arms wrapped around yourself. You weren’t trying to sleep, just waiting to be less tipsy.
Unfortunately, the sheets now smelled of him. Faint enough not to be overpowering, apparent enough to be constant. Pine and balmy musk, with a small hint of sharp spice. Distinctive and comfortingly familiar. The scent you used to savor on all his stolen hoodies, and steal the shampoo in his shower to take a part of him home in your hair.
The image of what happened earlier that day flashed behind your eyelids. You groaned in ire and pressed your thighs together. You flicked off the lamp, kicked your shorts to the floor, and ignored it until you slept.
You woke up. Day three. Two more days and you’d be on a flight home and could forget this ever happened.
But now your problems had doubled. Leon made himself impossible to escape. He stood in your way intentionally, forcing you to stand way closer to him than you wanted to before he moved, acting like he just wasn’t paying attention. He beat you to lunch plans, ordering food to the room, but of course he didn’t tell you that until you were just about to get ready to find a meal on your own, so you were stuck waiting in the room with him because for half an hour it’d be there “any minute”. And the bastard booked you both the sauna that night. Son of a bitch found the spa menu you took and knew you well enough to guess what you most wanted.
“I’ll pass.”
“Oh come on, I already paid for you. You didn’t pass up wasting my money to go on this trip, don’t start wasting it now.”
“Eat a dick,” you replied, but you were already moving to get changed.
The sauna was woefully small. You sat across from him but had to keep your legs in so they wouldn’t touch his. You had a full view of his cut figure as he rested his arms across the top of the seat and his jawline as it tipped back in relaxation. You closed your eyes and breathed in the steam as it filled the bamboo room, trying to relax and not regret agreeing to be here. But your worst mistake this trip, and maybe your entire life, was picking a brand new white bikini to wear.
“You really aren’t subtle,” he said, making your eyes slowly open in question.
“Excuse me?”
“I thought the red bikini was hot, but this one takes the cake.”
You followed his eyes to look down at yourself.
Oh no. No, no, no, this can’t be happening to me right now, you thought as you saw the dampened fabric that was once opaque cling like a second skin, clearly showing the outline and hue of your nipples on the top, and creasing along your folds on the bottom. Your knees banged together as you closed them and you crossed your arms against your chest, embarrassed beyond saving. He giggled as he watched, like it was the cutest joke he’d ever heard.
“How long were you staring before you told me?!” You cursed yourself for shopping online and not reading the reviews.
Leon shrugged. “C’mon, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before. I saw them just yesterday.”
You reached out a foot to kick him as your face grew hot. He’d seen your body in grotesque displays of nakedness, yeah, but you hadn’t planned on this. In fact, you were planning on never showing your naked body to him ever again.
With sympathy, he looked around at the sauna and listened for anyone outside.
“There’s no cameras in here, you’re fine. I’m right by the door, I won’t let anyone come in.”
You relaxed just a touch, but not enough to expose yourself. He scoffed disbelievingly at your shyness.
“Would it make you feel better if I took my shorts off? Then you’d be the most modest one in–”
“Shut up.”
“It’s a sauna, you’re allowed to be naked.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” you sneered.
He looked you up and down and you noticed he definitely had a bulge growing. “So what if I did?”
“‘So what?’ ‘So,’ you broke up with me, Leon. ‘So,’ you don’t get to paw at me like a horny teenage boy anymore.”
“You sure liked it yesterday.”
You turned in an attempt to face away from the truth in his statement, which only egged him on.
“My offer still stands.”
“What offer?”
“To do the thing you like with my tongue somewhere better than your tits.”
He leaned forward and the humidity billowed around him like smoke. From the corner of your eye you could see the moisture sticking to him, dampening his hair into a darker shade of brown, every crevice of muscle shining like he was oil slick in the low light.
You breathed out your thoughts. “You are so vulgar.”
You inhaled shakily as he sank down to his knees. “You didn’t say no.”
“I’m not gonna fuck you, Leon, and definitely not here,” you pleaded. But it fell on deaf ears as his big hands took hold of your knees and slowly pulled them apart. His eyes were blown as he looked up at you between kisses up your inner thighs.
“You don’t gotta fuck me,” he cooed between each soft peck, “just let me eat you out. Don’t gotta return the favor.”
He bit softly at the crease at the fork of your thigh and your cunt, making you gasp and twitch towards him, your legs spreading on their own and giving him just enough room to thumb under the hem.
“Hey,” he said lowly, interrupting your focus on squeezing your eyes shut. He looked up at you through the mist, his face inches away from you. “Lift your hips for me.”
You uncovered your chest and lifted yourself up, turning a blind eye to the way he hummed at the sight of your breasts before pulling your bottoms down to dangle around one ankle. You sat yourself back down closer to the edge so he could access you, and leaned back to accept your decision. He was already spreading you apart in his hands like he was marvelling at the sight.
There was no use in protesting now. You’d given in to him. The promise of an orgasm was too enticing to resist, because you knew how skillfully he’d get you there.
He slowly dragged his velvety tongue up your folds, letting it flatten on your clit before he flicked it back into his mouth with a bite of his lower lip and a furrow in his brow, like he just got a taste of the finest thing on earth and he was ready to dig in. Then he did it again, saliva pooling in his wake, adding to the sap that was escaping from your entrance.
It was getting hard to breathe through the steam, and you felt hot and dizzy all over. Each time he passed over your clit, your thigh twitched in his hands and left you desperate for more as he started all over again, excruciatingly slow.
“Stop teasing.”
“M’not,” he licked again, “just enjoying myself.”
“Thought this was for me, not you.”
“Hmm-mm,” he hummed the negative into you, “just said you didn’t have to get me off. Can get myself off just from this.”
Your jaw went slack at the sight of him pushing down his swim trunks to pull his cock free. He was already rock hard and leaking just from this. He pumped himself slowly, hands twisting to gather the leaking pre-cum at the tip, and rubbing it all the way back down.
He could be such a perv sometimes, needing it everywhere and anywhere. You wished it wasn’t so hot of him so you could close your eyes and imagine it was anyone else, but he looked way too good not to watch.
You arched your back, pushing your hips into his puffy mouth. He moaned just from that, gruff and unashamed of what he was doing and where. His arm flexed as he stroked himself faster as he pushed his face into your cunt, his tongue burying itself and fucking into you crudely. He shook his head from side to side and his nose rubbing against your clit made you moan a little louder than you should’ve.
He planted a kiss onto the sensitive bud. “Maybe I should stop, ‘know you can’t be quiet to save your life.”
You grabbed his hair and pulled those smiling lips back in. “I can be quiet, ahhh… you just, make it hard.”
“Oh yeah?”
He and his goddamn tactical precision, tongue finding your clit like a heat seaking missle. He caught your eye contact as he moved it back and forth until you were ready to combust.
Your breath hitched and you whispered a string of swears as he returned with purpose. “Leon, fuck… gonna make me cum, please.”
He went even faster, head all but thrashing to add to his speed. He pushed a finger inside with no precursor or warning. He curled it against your walls and that was all it took for stars to explode in your vision.
You whined and ground into his face as you came, nerves sparking and sizzling with electricity as your muscles seized and jittered towards his thirsty mouth that slurped every drop with wet and embarrassing sounds. He never showed any mercy when you came; his eagerness to taste you only ever drove him to a faster, deliciously sloppy speed, regardless of how it sent you reeling towards overstimulation.
Your thighs clamped down around his face and you tried to push him away by the forehead, but by the looks of his heaving back and arm pumping at breakneck speed, it wouldn’t be over until he was done.
But then he suddenly stopped, grunting and shaking as he lay his head on your thigh and squeezed the base of his cock. “I can’t cum here...” Clearly he was overheating, too. “Let me give you another, baby.”
“M’not your baby,” you huffed.
You winced as he stuck his tongue out to lick your sensitive folds once more. “I could cum here.”
The idea stole your breath away. Getting eaten out in a sauna was one thing (and was already pushing it, frankly), so there was no way in hell you’d let him creampie you here.
“That’s such a bad idea, Leon. It’d still be way too messy.”
He kissed up your body– taking special pause over your boobs, of course– until he was sucking at your neck. Slowly, his hand moved up and down his shaft again, the tip pressed into your inner thigh, which you had full view of as a bead of precum leaked out and smeared against the point of contact.
He spoke directly into your ear. “Could just eat you out again to clean it up. I’ll make it real good for you, promise. Just the tip?”
You held onto his shoulders as you quivered, and you looked down to see him not-so-subtly inching his dick closer to your entrance. Right now, you wanted it, you really did. To feel his girth fill you up, his length hammer against your g-spot, watch him fuck into you like he didn’t care who saw.
“J-just the tip. Only the tip.” He lined himself up, both of you looking down to see his head slip up and down your sopping hole. “Promise me.” He didn’t respond as he pressed it inside. “Leon, I’m so serious, don’t ahh, go any further, and don’t you dare cum in me.”
It drove you crazy the way he whined in a pitch too high to believe that he produced it. And that was his only reply.
He shallowly fucked you, holding your legs up around his waist as it glided in and out. You were surely leaving fingernail marks on his shoulders with how you held onto him, but it was the only way you could keep yourself from obeying your desperate pussy that fluttered in its desire to draw him further in.
“Feel so good, sweetheart. So fucking tight for me.” His tip was fully disappearing inside of you now, and maybe a centimeter more. “You fuck anyone since we broke up? Or you kept it just for me?”
You trembled as you watched him test his limits, seeing just how much more he could add before you stopped him, whispering such filthy things in the hope of obliterating your composure.
And the truth of it was that you hadn’t slept with anyone new. Leon was pretty blessed down there, and you highly doubted you’d win the luck of a draw if you had a one-night stand. It was an objective reality, not a matter of yearning, that you thought a random guy wouldn’t come close to comparing. So you didn’t even try.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t a rhetorical question. “Tell me, I wanna know. How many guys have you fucked since you’ve been gone?”
Your chest burned, but you answered in a squeak. “N-none.”
The truth was a bad answer. You should’ve said a hundred, or said that you met a guy with a giant penis who made Leon’s look like a marble. But you told the truth and his eyes lit up with that wicked, smug-faced smile. He thrust a little further in.
“Leon stop, you’re going too deep, you said–”
“That was before I knew how much she missed me. Fuck, can’t believe you saved it for me… I didn’t fuck anyone else either, never want another pussy. Look at her grip me, baby, look how wet you’re making my cock.”
You looked and really shouldn’t have because it was a filthy sight, and the blame was spread equally between you. You huffed as your body opened up, and he drove his hips forward harder, distracting you from how he abandoned his initial proposition by yanking your top down to grope at your tits. Your eyes rolled back as he twisted your nipples and he captured your mouth with his own, knowing you were on the brink of being way too loud again, muffling your sounds with his tongue as he sped up and bottomed out.
He couldn’t go too fast or else the sound of slapping skin would give away what you were doing, and it kept you right on the edge, teetering towards another orgasm like a tight rope walk.
“C’mon, give me another, fuck I can feel how close you are.”
His words made the knot tighten and tighten until it was nearly about to snap.
Then, the timer went off.
“Shit, shit,” he muttered as he clamored to pull out and bring his shorts up. He watched the door and blindly tugged your bottoms up to your knee to help you in your own flurry to recover yourself.
The minute you both stood, the door opened and a woman in black scrubs greeted you with a smile. You both froze like you were at attention, flashing your most convincing grins as she chimed, “time’s up! Did you enjoy yourselves?”
Leon rushed to speak and if your heart wasn’t pounding against your ribcage so bad it hurt, you would’ve laughed at his hands clasped in front of him to hold down his hard on.
“Absolutely! Could we get some towels?”
As soon as she turned around, Leon yanked the door closed again and turned around to tie his drawstrings. You gave yourself another once over as you scolded him as sharply as you possibly could in a whisper.
“I told you that was a bad idea, I fucking told you, are you out of your goddamn mind?”
“Shut up,” he grumbled as he palmed his cock like it’d deflate.
“Don’t tell me to–”
The door opened again and you both snapped back to niceties. Leon thanked her and grabbed them, tossing one to you as he rushed to pull his around his waist.
“I’ll give you two a minute. I’ll wait in the hall,” the woman said, leaving the sauna door open as she left.
You bumped into Leon rudely as you stepped out of the steam and into the air conditioning, rubbing your face with the towel and pressing it into your swimsuit to absorb the excess moisture in hopes it’d return to its dry opacity. He walked out a moment later looking criminally unphased.
“It’s fine, she doesn’t know, I’m sure they see that all the time.”
You clutched the towel to your chest as you turned to him. “That doesn’t mean we should risk getting caught. What if she does know? What if they kick us out?”
He rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall. “Then they would’ve kicked us out. They didn’t, so relax.”
You bit your cheeks as your face twisted up, wanting to snap again. He probably thought you had nothing to come back with, but you had plenty. What made it hard to talk was how good he looked flushed and wet, chest still rising and falling with the remaining breathlessness, skin glossy with steam and sweat, muscles pumped and defined from his labors. You gumbled and looked for your clothes. “You’re so stupid, seriously.”
“Keep yelling at me, it’s helping me go soft.”
You threw your towel right in his face and tugged your shorts on with difficulty as your own damp skin clung to the cotton.
You stormed ahead with heavy steps pounding on the boardwalk as you rushed to get back to privacy. You let the door close behind you and heard him stop it from slamming in his face.
“Don’t be like that, you liked it.”
You were in a full on rage, pacing around aimlessly, arms waving in vexation. “Fuck you, Leon, seriously. I cannot believe how reckless you are, you have no consideration for anything but getting your rocks off.”
“You calling me a selfish lover? I remember it starting by getting you off.”
“Because you started it. You got on your knees and begged for it. It was your idea.”
He wasn’t put off by your little stormcloud at all. In fact, he was smoothly approaching you. You scoffed and pushed him away, but he followed at your heel to the bedroom.
“What are you even doing?” he said as he watched you enter.
You held the door and tried to close it, but he was standing in the way.
“Oh,” you laughed, “don’t even think I’m taking the couch tonight. If anyone’s ever deserved to sleep on the couch, it’s you.”
“You can take the bed tonight,” he shrugged cooly.
You blinked and rolled your eyes, leaving him standing in the doorway as you tried to find something in the room to act like you came in there for. You settled on pulling your hair and sitting on the bed, and you sighed in relief as he left.
But it wasn’t for long, because he returned with his blanket and tossed it on the foot.
“What are you doing?” you asked, only slightly simmered down after a moment to collect yourself.
“You can sleep in the bed, but it’s still my night, so I’m sleeping here too.”
“Like hell you are.”
“I don’t know why you’re so resistant,” he started as he walked around to be in front of you. “Clearly you want me, too. I mean, come on, letting me put the tip in?”
You shut your eyes as he stood over you, shaking your head in frustration at yourself as much as him, because he was ultimately correct. You felt his shadow cover you as he closed in. A shiver went down your core as his voice deepened close to you.
“We both know you want it, so let me finish what I started.” His hands trepidatiously swept up and down your thighs, and you hated how turned on you still were. You got so close to release before it ended so abruptly. “I’ll make it up to you, promise. I’ll be nice, I won’t bother you. I’ll make you cum until you’ve had your fill and then I’ll leave you be.”
Your eyes fluttered open and you watched your legs part again. You’d gone this far. He’d already fucked you, and despite your hot temper, he wanted to again. No use in not getting yours now.
You yanked him by the nape of the neck and connected in a searing kiss. He groaned as your hands tightened painfully in his hair and crawled on top of you, pushing you back onto the bed as he started fumbling with your shorts.
You opened your tongue to him as you raised your hips, letting him remove your shorts and bikini bottom in one fell swoop. He threw them somewhere behind him and returned to your top, reaching behind you to untie the strings and letting it fall out of place to expose you. You didn’t hide this time, and he relished in it even more, moaning at the sight of you coming undone before he pushed it all aside to grab and suck on your tits again.
You arched in search of his body heat and he eagerly provided it, grinding his hips into you once before deciding he couldn’t take feeling you through clothing a second longer. His mouth trailed down until he landed sloppy kisses against your cunt, sucking and lapping only a few times before he crawled over you again with a groan.
He smacked your still-sensitive clit as he stared down at you, lining himself up with a taunt.
“This what you need to feel better? Need my cock to stop your bitching?”
He thrust inside to cut off the possibility of further balk talk. You gasped at the feeling, already gone tight again in the time between the sauna and here, the friction of your walls grabbing at him as he entered. He hardly drew back before pushing in again, settling onto his forearms while he stayed flush to the hilt. Only then did he start a steady rock of his hips, bluntly coming down with force that made you cry out.
“You love taking this dick, don’t you? Just look at you, baby, already a fucking mess. You hear how wet you are? ‘Cause I can feel it.”
“Stop talking,” you whined, wrapping an arm around his back and threading your fingers through his hair.
“Mmm, you love my dirty mouth. You think I forgot what my girl likes? Think I don’t jerk off to the thought of giving it to you every night?”
He was right; you did love it. Every knock against your cervix was a thought-terminating cliché, and the filth paired with graphic confessions and the words ‘my girl’ made your head swim even more. And the the confession that made the earth tilt on its axis:
“Think I don’t still love you? Because I do.”
You felt it bloom and burst in your chest, though you couldn’t form words to reciprocate. He was everywhere: his warmth all around you, solid muscles and smooth flesh, the woodsy scent of his skin peppered with the tart musk of sauna sweat. The soft edges of his hair brushed against your face as they swayed with his hammering pace. All the little things you’d tried to get over and fought so hard not to miss, all the reasons you’d treated him poorly to push the yearning away.
“You should be thanking me after what a pain you’ve been,” he muttered the taunts against your neck and traced your pulse point with his tongue. “Shouldn’t be fucking you at all, but you just needed it so bad.”
“You’re such an asshole,” you breathed, not a trace of conviction in it.
He held you by the pit of your knee to drive in at a deeper angle, building momentum to go faster and faster.
“You love it.”
“I– oh– hate you…”
“Keep telling yourself that, babe. You love this dick a whole lot more.”
Your eyes rolled back as he gritted his teeth and hammered in, firmly holding you in his bulky arms as his navel slapped against you, and his cock smacked against your sweet spot. Pornographic sounds echoed in the room and the sheets were undoubtedly earning a wet spot, you could tell by the way he looked down at where you connected. You chanted ah, ah, ah, like a prayer and he folded you in half until each thrust pushed the sounds out of your lungs whether you wanted to be loud or not.
“Cum all over my cock, pretty girl, say my fucking name when you cum.”
Two sharp up tilted snaps of his hips and you fell apart under him, unable to see anything but heaven as your eyelids flickered. You moaned his name so loud you knew you’d feel ashamed later, but right now all you felt was ecstasy as he kept going while you writhed.
You barely started coming down to earth when you noticed him losing his grip, a smile twitching faintly before his face scrunched up in concentration.
“Let me fill you, please, let me cum in your pussy,” he begged.
“Do it, fuck,” you moaned at the mere thought.
He grunted and then his body seized in unsteady shakes and sputters, and your mouth fell open in a gasp as you felt it spill inside.
With every weak thrust he sank further and further down onto you, until he stilled and you were pressed firmly under his weight. You rubbed his back as your teeth buzzed and soaked in the sensation of his cock twitching inside.
You laid there in the afterglow and watched the dimming sunlight dance on the ceiling, wrapping your head around what happened today and the fact that you didn’t feel angry right now.
You patted him as his breathing evened so he didn’t fall asleep on you. He rolled off, both of you hissing as he pulled out, and then collapsed beside you with his arms above his head.
Damn him for being stretched out like a greek god. Damn you for loving it.
He caught your eye as you stared and neither of you could help but huff out a smile. It lingered there until he looked at your lips and then back to your eyes.
“Want me to make dinner reservations?” he asked in a rasp.
Trigger/content warnings: mentions of trauma, PTSD, survivors guilt, and small mention of self neglect, tiny mention of scars (from his missions). Sexual content (mdni)
Description: my personal headcanons of what it would be like dating Leon Kennedy
Notes: Gender-neutral reader. I think this works with any version of Leon above re2. Some things resonate with older Leon, some things resonate with younger Leon. Hope you enjoy ♡
First date
You two finally go on a first date
● Hear me out. He'd take you to an aquarium. I don't care what anyone says, it's peaceful. He's been surrounded by things trying to kill him constantly. Seeing something beautiful, slow, and natural would be grounding for him.
● He definitely prefers walking around, looking at things, and talking, rather than just sitting at a table and asking about each other's lives. He finds the experience more connecting. Sitting across from someone feels like an interrogation (which he's done too many times).
● He'd know nothing about fish. But when you walk past one species, he'd definitely know a really random, niche fact that no one knows about it. He’ll know the exact chemical composition of a pufferfish toxin from a survival manual, but then he’ll look at a sea turtle and just go, "wow. He's a big guy, isn't he?"
● Even on a date, he always subconsciously maps out the exits to each room you enter. He makes sure he's always as aware of them as he can be, making sure you're a tiny bit closer to them than he is.
● He always smells expensive, but understated. Maybe expensive leather and some sort of citrusy cologne. Think bergamot, sicilian lemon, black tea, leather, and a hint of vanilla. It's a scent that lingers on your clothes days after he's hugged you.
● He’d 100% buy you something stupid. A keychain or a plush shark. He’ll act like he’s doing it ironically, but he’ll be genuinely pleased if you keep it.
Everyday life
Things go well and you start dating
● His love language is definitely quality time. He finds peace in just sitting near you while you both do your own thing. You'll catch him just watching you. Not in a creepy way, just memorising all of your features.
● He's surprisingly precise about his hair. You'll catch him in the bathroom mirror for 10 minutes trying to get one specific piece to sit exactly right.
● The longer you date, the worse his puns get. He uses humour to cope. If he's had a bad week, you both sympathise with him and become full of dread because you know the jokes are about to be absolutely unbearable to hear.
● He seems like the type to sit there reading a mission report while holding your hand, not even saying a word, but his thumb is constantly stroking your knuckles.
● He has a habit that you find both endearing and persistent. He will make sure you drink enough water, eat enough, get outside at least once a day, sleep enough. He is unbelievably determined when it comes to you taking care of yourself.
● He has zero respect for what you’re actually doing when the urge to hug you hits. If you’re trying to type an email or cook dinner, he will weave himself around you anyway. He knows he gets in the way because he's a big guy, but he doesn't care.
Mornings and nights
Waking up and going to sleep with him
● He'd definitely be a bit of a night owl. You'd wake up at 2am and see him just watching TV all the time. When he can't sleep, he finds that forcing himself gets him absolutely nowhere, so he just does what he wants until he gets some sort of sleep. His job and all his PTSD has given him pretty bad insomnia.
● If he wakes up from a nightmare, he won't tell you. He’ll just gravitate toward you in his sleep, tucking his face into the crook of your neck as if to remind himself that you’re real and safe.
● He loves playing with your hair until you fall asleep every single night. It relaxes you and gives him something to do with his hands. He's not used to sitting completely still, one of the reasons why he struggles to sleep.
● If you have to get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom or get some water, he is instantly awake. He's not suspicious of you, it's just his active brain. He'll wait until you get back in bed for his breathing to fully even out again.
● He isn't a "jump out of bed and make pancakes" guy. He’s a "stay in bed for an extra twenty minutes staring at the ceiling and holding you" guy. He loves the quiet moments where the world hasn't started demanding things from him yet. But, he'll still make you pancakes if you want him to when he actually gets up.
● If he actually goes into a deep sleep, expect to wake up to him practically crushing you. If he's fallen into a deep sleep, he's shockingly heavy. He'll have an arm thrown over your waist that feels like a weighted blanket. And he won't let you move it.
Bad days
You both have many, bad, heavy days.
● His bad days are heavy because they're riddled with guilt. He's always had pretty bad survivors guilt. He feels like he shouldn't have made it out of Raccoon City. On his worst days, you’ll find him staring at nothing for long periods. It’s like he’s rewatching a movie of his past in his head. He gets very quiet, and his movements become mechanical.
● He might subconsciously pull away or spend the evening in another room because he feels like his "darkness" shouldn't touch you. He thinks he’s protecting you by being distant, but he really just needs to be reminded that he’s allowed to be human and that he isn't "tainted" by what he's seen.
● He is an incredible listener. If you need to vent, he will sit there with his full attention on you, never interrupting, never judging. He’s seen the worst of humanity, so nothing you say will scare him. He’ll just pull you into his lap afterward and let you hide your face against his shoulder until you feel steady again.
● During bad days, he tends to punish himself subtly by not taking care of himself. You happily cook him meals, help him bathe, maybe go on a walk with him. He's very hard on himself, and you both take care of him and try to bring him back.
● If your bad day leaves you too exhausted to take care of yourself, he will quietly take over. He’ll make sure you eat, bring you water, and gently guide you through a routine to help you get better, reciprocating the care you show him on his own difficult days.
Life when he's away
Your life when he's away on missions
● His missions are sudden. One minute he's helping you with dinner, and the next, his phone pings and his entire posture shifts. He can't give you details about where he's going or what he's doing, but he always takes a long, quiet moment to hold you at the door before he walks out.
● He deliberately leaves small, comforting pieces of himself around the living room. He might leave his favourite worn-in hoodie on the back of a chair, or "forget" to put away a specific book he was reading. He likes knowing his presence stays in the room even when he isn't there.
● Before he walks out the door, he double checks everything regarding your security. He will quietly double check the window locks, make sure the door lock works perfectly, and remind you to keep the porch light on.
● The last hug at the door is always the longest. He’ll wrap his arms around you tightly and bury his face into your shoulder or the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent to memorise it.
● On nights when the anxiety gets particularly heavy, you find comfort in the things he does when he's home. You might put on a movie he likes just for the background noise, or make sure you drink the exact amount of water he’d usually badger you about. Taking care of yourself becomes a way of honouring him while he's not there to do it for you.
● You know he's skilled and you know he can handle himself, but you can't stop lying awake at night, worried if he's alive or not. There's so much danger in his job, and he can't tell you where he's going. You don't know if it's the deadliest mission of his life or something simple.
● When he first gets home, he’s a bit of a ghost. He’ll walk into the kitchen, stare into the fridge for five minutes, and forget why he’s there. He needs to be tethered back to reality.
● For a little while, you only really have what's left of all the energy he spent on the mission, but you take care of him the same way he would you, and eventually, he comes back mentally and you’ll notice the exact moment his eyes lose that distant, survival-mode glaze and truly focus on you again.
Intimacy (NSFW)
What it's like being intimate with him
● He'd definitely talk you through it. I don't make the rules. "Don't close your eyes. Look at me. I want you to see exactly who’s doing this to you." "Yeah, say my name. I want to hear it again. I want to know you know exactly who you belong to right now." "That’s it. You’re taking it so well for me. You’re being so good." "Tell me how that feels. Does it feel good? Yeah?" I could make a list of all the things he'd say.
● He’s heavy, and he knows it. He’ll use his size to pin you down. Not to be aggressive, but because he wants to feel the maximum amount of contact and he wants you to feel him.
● He’s usually a bit self-conscious about the scars on his back and shoulders from Raccoon City and his various missions. If you touch them or kiss them, it completely undoes him. He’ll go quiet, his breath hitching, and he’ll pull you closer and hide in your neck.
● He definitely has some hard limits, like cop/criminal or interrogating role play. It feels too much like a Tuesday at work for him. He wouldn't do weapon play or anything like that. Even if it's unloaded or on safety or just for show, he’s seen too many accidental deaths and has used weapons to kill many things. For him, weapons are a tool for death, not something he'd put you around.
● He never shuts up. He'd talk to you throughout the whole thing, praising you, teasing you, and narrating exactly how you’re reacting to him until your ears are ringing as much as your head is spinning. Even when you’re breathless and trying to lose yourself in the sensation, he’s right there. When you finally go over the edge, he just pulls you closer, his voice in your ear. "That’s it. Just like that. I’ve got you." He forces you to maintain eye contact with him throughout the whole thing.
● I also think sometimes he lets you be in control if you ask to. (He says he's letting you "for now," but he actually really enjoys it). He's also vocal. He doesn't leave you guessing. If he likes what you’re doing, you’re going to hear it. He’ll groan, whimper, moan, or breathe your name like it’s a prayer. He knows that his vocal reactions are a reward for you, and he isn't shy about giving them.
● He likes leaving faint marks. Bruises on your hips from where his hands held you tightly, or a hidden bite mark on your shoulder. If you leave scratches on his back or shoulders, he wears them like a badge.
● When it comes to aftercare, he isn't passive. He is the type to immediately bring you a glass of water without you needing to ask. He appreciates the quiet task of bringing a warm towel to clean you up, treating it as a slow routine to help you both wind down. He will press slow, lazy kisses to your forehead, temples, and jawline, whispering low, gentle praises like "You did so good for me" or "I've got you, you're safe." His hands are never still. He’ll trace faint patterns on your back or play with your hair, relying on constant physical connection to anchor himself in the moment.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed ♡ I feel awful right now, I'm pretty sure it's just my period (unfortunately), so I'm sorry if this isn't the best, I feel really sick rn 😭
boyfriend!brian who is just so so so so happy that you and tim are getting along.
his best buddy and his pretty girlfriend are talking to each other?? and making jokes?? and laughing??
he’s so happy. so so supportive.
so supportive that he’s literally holding you in his arms while tim’s tongue is shoved in your mouth.
his arm is tightly wrapped around your waist to keep your back against his chest, while his other hand is loosely around your jaw to keep your head angled towards tim.
his chin is hooked to your shoulder and he watches with excitement as his best buddy’s tongue is shoved in your mouth, and how you eagerly reciprocate it by sucking on it.
with him, there’s no “bro before hoes” or “girlfriend before friends” code.
in fact, he’ll fuck both you and tim!
>__<
a/n: working on a hoodie request and this thought came to me in the middle of work. i need to be sandwiched between them or there will be consequences.
warnings: 18+, p in v, praise, age gap, breeding kink
summary: Sitting next to him across the couch doesn’t cut it anymore. If you’re not grabbing onto him, suffocating him, then you’re not close enough. If you did what you’re currently doing a month ago he would’ve told you to get lost, but it takes a lot to break a man and you’ve officially done it. Leon quickly realized that just accepting his fate saves him more energy than telling you off would.
words: 3k
Maybe it’s the age, or maybe it’s the pent-up sexual frustration, but if he could choke out either one of you and get away with it, he wouldn’t mind.
Ever since his owner adopted you, they have shoved you up Leon’s nostrils, his mouth, his ass, basically up every orifice available. And at first, he tried to be patient, to be understanding that you’re still new here. He remembers the days when he was just adopted from the shelter, the level of attention he used to get before he became a mundane presence after a few weeks.
But your effect doesn’t seem to wane. Two months and counting, and every single day you get practically worshipped in this house. It’s not like he’s jealous, he’s too old for this kind of attention. Maybe when he was younger he would’ve been, sure; but all Leon cares about anymore is to be left the fuck alone, in peace and quiet until death comes knocking on his door—and perhaps that’s why your owner got you.
Obviously, a new young bunny doesn’t quite match his lifestyle; not with the way you run around the house, not with the way you get way too excited for meal time like you aren’t going to eat the same fucking thing for the rest of your life, and definitely not in the way where he is made responsible for teaching you basically everything without his consent.
You’re a pretty thing though, he’ll admit that. Nice long ears, a very fluffy tail, and eyes that no one can say no to—basically the whole package, so he can understand the appeal. What he can’t understand however, is why he is getting roped into this.
After your owner showed you around the house, they then introduced you to him and you immediately hid behind them.
“No come on, don’t be shy. This is Leon, he’s basically your older brother now. If you ever need help with anything you can ask him.”
His expression immediately morphs into one with utter disbelief—not that he purposefully wanted to make an unpleasant first impression, but it’s rather difficult to contain yourself when someone starts speaking straight up bullshit in front of you.
“Right, Leon?”
“No.”
First off, he wasn’t becoming anyone’s older brother. Older brothers babysit, older brothers care, and he was about to do neither of those. Secondly, they decided to expand the “family” not him, so if you need help don’t come running to him.
He did feel bad for making such a harsh introduction for a while, but eventually got over it when he realized that you didn’t speak a drop of English—nor any languages for that matter. It’s typical for hybrids to be behind on communication thanks to some of their animalistic characteristics, he didn’t manage to speak fluently till a few years ago. But he doesn’t recall himself being that bad when he was younger.
Point is, you were terrible to deal with; which he soon realized that he didn’t have choice but to do. Your owner would go to work from the early morning, and come back home later at night. You would sit by the door the whole day, just staring at it. You would concentrate on the handle, as if the more you concentrated, the quicker they’d come back.
Leon left you to it, the busier you were the less likely you were to bother him after all. But it didn’t take you long to realize that this whole telekinesis thing was hopeless. To pass time, you started bothering him instead.
“She’s weird.”
“She’s just watching you Leon, be nice.”
Apparently, being stared at all day, every day is not a form of harassment. Whenever you wanted food, you’d just stand in front of him and stare until he figures out what you want. Do you have any idea how many of his snacks he had to hand over to you just to get you to leave him alone?
And even if you’re fed, it doesn’t mean he gets a break from you idling around him. If he’s watching something, you’re there. If looking at something, you’re there. If he has to change, he’d have to physically kick you out his room to do so.
The thing is, this wouldn’t be that bad if you were looking at what he’s actually doing rather than directly at him. And it wouldn’t be that bad if you had some sort of expression on your face while doing so. You once spent two whole minutes staring at him in silence without blinking a single time-yes, he counted.
When you finally decide to stop ogling at him, you nap conveniently beside him, or on the floor besides his feet if you have to.
You never speak to him however, keeping your thoughts to yourself—and thank God for that, the last thing he needs is your squeaky voice in his highly sensitive ears. The only time you show an ounce of emotion is when your owner comes home, jumping up and down in excitement, practically throwing yourself at them.
You love the attention, the coos, the compliments even when you can’t quite understand what they say. After observing you for a while, he can tell that you’re fond of physical affection. You like curling up next to anyone who steps foot in the apartment, batting your eyelashes at them and devouring every drop of affection you get.
“Oh my god, she’s so cute!”
“Isn’t she the sweetest thing?”
“Aww look at her!”
Sweetheart of the city, what can he say.
And because you have everyone wrapped around your finger, it makes Leon stick out like a sore thumb. Your owner thinks it’s because the two of you haven’t “bonded” enough based off one answer from chatgpt. Surely that’s the reason, not because Leon has time and time again stated that he doesn’t care.
And as if thing couldn’t get worse, they somehow stumbled across an article that said that bunnies bond through cuddling. Again, bunnies and not hybrids. But thanks to you being an attention leech and for your lack of respect for personal space, they think that this behavior is a natural instinct. Either way, it’s not like anyone has been listening to him since you’ve stepped into the picture.
Bonding time consists of the two of you awkwardly hugging each other for ten minutes; and it takes one look at both of your faces to draw the conclusion that none of you are feeling the bondness of it all. Well, to be fair Leon went from hating it to just wanting to get it over with. You on the other hand, you went from being a little shy to being very comfortable with the whole concept. Another victim to add to your never-ending list.
At first, your arms would intertwine but your bodies would still be away from each other. But then you started stepping closer and closer until resting your head on his chest became a regular thing. He decided to not make a fuss about it—it was only for ten minutes after all.
Your owner had to out of town for a few days leaving the two of you alone, and Leon made it clear that no bonding time will be held during these days. Besides, preparing both of your meals seemed more than enough bonding time for him.
But with the way you were acting, it seemed pretty obvious that you were missing that time you had together. It’s either that or the lack of attention is cutting off the oxygen from reaching your brain.
Now, sitting next to him across the couch doesn’t cut it anymore. If you’re not grabbing onto him, suffocating him, then you’re not close enough. If you did what you’re currently doing a month ago he would’ve told you to get lost, but it takes a lot to break a man and you’ve officially done it. Leon quickly realized that just accepting his fate saves him more energy than telling you off would.
Leon runs a very strict protocol when it comes to sleeping. Having big bunny ears means that he can overhear a conversation in another state if he put his mind to it. So, it doesn’t take much to hear and feel another person climbing into his bed.
“Oh my fucking god”
He grumbles before even opening his eyes, he doesn’t need his visual senses to confirm that it’s none other than you. His eyes crack open seeing you on all fours freezing in place once his eyes catch yours.
“What are you doing here?”
His brows wrinkle in disbelief at how far he let things get. You don’t move, instead you just stare at him with that kicked bunny look on your face. He shrugs his arms and shakes his head, waiting for an answer from you.
“…Bonding time”
“No, no fucking bonding time. Go back to your room.”
Dealing with you when he’s fully rested is already draining, let alone when he’s getting cranky. Deciding he’s had enough, he turns around and lays back down closing his eyes.
After a moment, he feels you shift on the bed, sitting down on your knees. You know it’s a problem when he can sense those eyes of yours staring into his back in a pitch-dark room.
“I said go to your room.”
You stay still for a moment before he feels your weight shift off the bed. And for a second, he felt a rush of dopamine at the idea of you finally finally listening to him. But that happiness was short lived when he hears you shuffle and curl up into a ball on the floor below him.
He takes in a deep breath, and reminds himself that things could’ve been worse. You could’ve been a serial killer, or had a hobby for setting things on fire, or a kleptomaniac—actually you’re worse, you hoard all the snacks under your bed.
And even though it’s sad that the bar had to get this low, but being clingy isn’t the worst-case outcome.
The two of you sits in silence, which gives Leon’s subconscious the perfect moment to strike. What if you’re cold? What if you had a nightmare? He recalls dealing with those after leaving the shelter. What if you end up tragically dying in your sleep and he has to live with the guilt for the rest of his life?
His brows furrow in frustration as he tries to shoo away all the dramatic scenarios that pop into his head. But rather than going away, they only seem to get louder and louder.
He caves in, deciding that going to sleep with a hurt pride is better than not getting any sleep at all. He looks down at your figure below him, knees to chest with your arm propping your head as a pillow.
“Hey.”
You lift up your head, looking over at him. You look like you’re expecting a lecture from him for not listening, which truthfully is what he should be doing.
“Come here.” He pats the space on the bed next to him.
“Bonding time.”
Your ears perk up at the last words, immediately getting up and climbing next to him. You wrap your arms around his shoulder, your head snapping to his chest like velcro. Leon takes in the silence after managing to shut his thoughts up. His arm is branched behind you, supporting your back—it is bonding time after all.
His eyes move over to your figure after a while, a strip of light running across your face from the bedroom door you never fail to leave open behind you; and to no one’s surprise, you’re already looking at him. Deciding since he’s already doing something nice, he might as well go all in. He flashes you a soft smile and you mirror him hesitantly.
He can feel your heartbeat starting to accelerate with your close proximity as you begin to lean in; your eyes locked on his lips. He thinks of pulling away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls the arm that’s draped around you, pulling you closer to him. His lips caging your bottom lip in a soft embrace, and you reciprocate.
It starts off sweet, his hand finding its way to your cheek before tangling in your hair and exposing the side of your face. His brain struggles to make sense of what’s happening, struggling to blame his actions on his sleepy state or his dormant feelings. You melt into his touch, your thigh stacking on top of his and he grabs onto your side; his thumb on your chin coaxing your mouth to open wider.
His tongue enters your mouth, and you give him full access by leaning in further. A whine escapes your lips, your hips bucking in need. You grab his hand, bringing it down to the aching between your thighs.
He groans as he senses your naked cunt, slick pooled and almost dripping down your thighs. The idea of you going to sleep with nothing other than a shirt makes his feel brain fuzzy with arousal, his middle finger circling your clit.
“Fuck, needy little pussy,”
You instinctively begin to rock you hips against his digits; your palms planted on his chest for support. Deciding to give you more, his fingers tease your dripping entrance before sinking into your cunt.
You moan at the sensation, and Leon feels his cock begging to be released from the confined of his clothes. You begin to ride his fingers, your fluids collecting on the base of his knuckles.
“This pussy just wanted to be filled, huh? Just wanted to feel good?”
He watches you move, his nose picking up the scent of your fluids. He shifts his attention to the ache from his cock, forming a visible bulge in his sweatpants. His fingers slip down his pants along with his underwear enough to pull himself out.
He wraps his fingers around the hot length, earning a hiss from him at the contact. The sound causes your eyes to open and look at what he’s doing. A smirk forms on his lips, his blue eyes locking with yours as his fist pumps up and down his thick cock.
“You wanna try?”
You nod your head hesitantly and he grabs a hold of your hand. He wraps your fingers around him, and with his hand on top of yours he guides your movements. A low groan vibrates from his chest, his head leaning against the headboard behind him as your fingers squeeze around him.
“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so well.”
The movement of your hips on his fingers halt when you notice the amount of precum leaking from the head. It takes one look at your face to see the kind of ideas swirling in your head, and this is the first time he wishes that you could properly speak so he knows exactly what you’re thinking—but he has a pretty good guess.
He pats his thigh, signaling you to come closer. Moving towards him, your thighs bracket his with your arms around his shoulders. Leon’s hand snakes up your thigh before massaging the plush of your ass and you take this moment to connect your lips again.
He gives your jaw a quick kiss and teases his cock at your entrance. Sensing your impatience, he helps you sink down his length; your hands gripping his shoulders at the sudden stretch. Leon starts babbling words of praise as pleasure clouds his thoughts; and with each pulse of your walls, he actively forgives you for every inconvenience you have caused since you entered his life.
You begin to move, lifting yourself up before sinking down again and again. Leon blames the significant lack of pussy he’s experienced in these past few years for the way he feels intensely pussy drunk—or maybe it’s because your so wet it’s getting concerning.
“Shit, sweetheart. Show me those tits.”
His hand sneaks beneath your shirt pulling the piece of fabric over your head. Now met with your naked chest, his palms cup the tender flesh into his hand. He watches as the fat beneath the skin bounces with each snap of his hips, his fingers pinching the stiff peaks.
Unsatisfied, he flips you onto your back with his body caging you between his arms. Pushing your thighs further apart, his arms slot underneath your knees to keep them open as his hips move against your again.
Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he takes in the sweet scent of your shampoo tangled into your hair. With you positioned beneath him and his heart beat soaring, his animalistic instincts start taking over.
“Gonna breed this little pussy, get you so full of my cum.”
The mattress supporting your weight creaks with each thrust of his hips, sweat droplets forming along his hairline and down his back. Your whines start getting louder, your hands helplessly grasping at anything within your reach.
He hears his name being muttered a few times, his hands tangling with yours and pinning them down to the mattress beneath you. It takes a few squeezes from your walls to make his thrusts turn sloppy, your legs wrapping around his torso to keep him close.
“Like the idea, sweetheart? Having my bunnies? Keeping you knocked up all the time?”
Your fingernails leave trails of scratches along his broad back as his hips fuck into you feverishly. The head of his cock rubs against the spongy spot inside you, helping you reach your climax. Leon squeezes your hands, his chest heaving along with yours as you pull him into his orgasm with you.
He cusses under his breath as ropes of cum shoot into your velvety walls. He thrusts into you a few times, watching the white ring around the base of his cock become more prominent with each thrust.
His hand rubs your thigh soothingly before pulling out of your spent cunt. The hot liquid leaks from your hole, the sight making him miss being inside you already. You prop yourself up on your elbows, a smile plastered on your face.
“More?”
He lets out a breathy chuckle, and nods. It’s still considered bonding time if he hugs you through it.
Im just so tired...like I haven't even touched part two of the Saja Boys new years drabble yet. In fact, I've barely written anything since two months ago.