PAIRING: Sanji/Female Reader. CONTENTS: Non Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, PWP, Oral (f! and m! receiving), Praise kink, Creampie, Some Power Play (Sanji is a little sub) WORDCOUNT: 5.7k
Summary:
You had woken up with certain urges invading your mind. Luckily, you figured out who could help you.
Notes:
I had a specific urge with this fic and i actually thought about it making it like a sex pollen thing but... i didn't really want a plot, so i just used my own horniness as inspiration LMAO Also, reader is bisexual!
This was barely proofread, so there might be a couple of mistakes, but i'm happy to be done with it as well, so enjoy!
If you have a few bucks to spare, considering buying me a kofi!
You had woken up with certain urges invading your mind. Which was an issue considering you were on a pirate ship filled with people that were your crewmates and friends.
Sharing your bed with Nami didn’t help, if anything she had the exact effect on you as she did on anyone else. You gazed at her briefly when you first opened your eyes that morning, feeling heat settle in your abdomen.
You quickly desisted on asking her if she would be up for the idea of getting each other off; you knew she deserved better than a quickie. You weren’t sure if you wanted to have sex with your closest friend there, considering how complicated things could get when that kind of intimacy was involved.
The rest of the day was unbearable. It was impossible to be completely isolated from the rest of the world on a ship that only had hot people in it. You tried to lounge on deck, stealing glances through your sunglasses. Luffy was cute and you adored him, you could never see him differently, no matter that he was currently shirtless, defined chest completely exposed because it was one of the hottest days of the year. At some point, Usopp was sitting nearby, working on one of his many inventions, arms glistening with a few beads of sweat that made your mouth water. Before you went back inside, Robin had decided to read on the deck, her long legs distracting you to the point of almost running into the mast.
Even as you made your way to the galley, you had to avoid glancing at whatever direction Zoro or Franky were. You could not keep tempting fate that way. Briefly considering that you had to be some kind of sick, you settled on the idea that it had simply been too long since you have been intimate with someone. You finally understood how Sanji felt throughout the day.
Speaking of which, you saw him there by the galley as usual, putting away the tableware you had used for lunch. You focused on him through the porthole before even considering walking in; Sanji had always been pretty, but he was more natural when he wasn’t being dramatic in his actions, which was the case when he was alone. He was humming quietly, moving gracefully around the kitchen, blonde hair falling into place like perfect puzzle pieces.
The more you looked at him, the more you considered the idea that he might be the solution you were searching for. He was gorgeous, eager to please, and more importantly, he would only take you seriously up to a point. He was flirty, amorous, and had no shame about it, but you knew he was never that serious about his attraction for any woman (if anything, he seemed to be only loyal to Nami). He would never be serious in a relationship, which was fine because you weren’t looking for one.
When you opened the door, Sanji turned to you, smiling brightly instantly as he called out your name in the most enthusiastic tone.
“Is there something you need? Would you like something to drink? It’s particularly hot today!” He offered with hearts in his eyes, not waiting for an answer before he was already reaching for a glass, ready to make any of your dreams come true.
It worked well for you that he was in the mood to please you, as always, and you smiled warmly as you sat by the counter.
“I would love a lemonade, if you wanna make one for me.” You replied, batting your eyelashes.
You could see a little surprise in his eyes, but he still grinned as he got everything ready.
“Coming right up!”
You watched with curious and frisky eyes as Sanji moved about, getting everything he needed to make “the most perfect lemonade for the most perfect girl”, in his words. His compliments sometimes failed to reach you, too used to them and knowing too well that he would give them away to any girl with a nice face, but you appreciate it nonetheless. He indulged you with his sweet talking, dramatically describing the drink he was elaborating.
“Here you go, sweetheart!” With soft precision, he put the glass in front of you, a few slices of lemon adorning the rim, and a couple of mint leaves in the center. Somehow he had managed to shape the leaves into hearts, which made you smile in adoration. “Is there anything else you want? Some dessert, maybe?”
“That’s okay, thank you!” You replied, taking a sip, tasting the tang of the lemon and something sweet, probably honey. “You’re always so nice to me.”
“Please!” He replied, seemingly shy but you knew him well enough to know he was enjoying your attention.
“I mean it, you always take good care of us.”
“It’s a pleasure, especially when I get to see your pretty face enjoying the food I make!”
Sanji flashed you a handsome smile, and you thought you were getting weak when your heart actually fluttered.
Or maybe you were just too wet.
You finished your drink in practically record time, carefully watching him as he cleaned the counter top.
“Sanji,” You called for him, making him focus on you as he grabbed the empty glass. “Do you wanna get laid?”
The strepitous noise of the glass breaking into pieces as it fell to the floor made you flinch, but you couldn’t contain your smile. Sanji was completely flabbergasted, eyes popping out as he looked at you like you’ve grown another head.
“Wha-What?”
“Do you wanna have sex?”
“Uh, I- This feels-” He stammered, clearly nervous, clearing his throat as he picked up the crystal pieces. “Wha-What do you mean?”
“Sex.” You repeated, amused at his reaction, especially when his whole face turned red. “With me.”
For someone who was so obviously a pervert, Sanji seemed completely taken aback by the idea of having sex, jaw hanging open as the few pieces of glass he had picked fell to the floor again. You pursed your lips, trying not to laugh when he covered his nose, in anticipation of a nosebleed.
“Are you teasing me, darling?”
“No.” You replied in between giggles. “I’m being very serious.”
You stood and approached him, and for once in your life, you saw Sanji take a step back from a woman the closer you got.
“I need a little help and I figured that you’d be more than happy to do it.”
“A-A little help?”
“I woke up incredibly wet.” You admitted bluntly, despite your slight embarrassment at the admission, but entertained when you saw blood dripping between Sanji’s fingers as he covered his face. “You can say no and I won’t get mad or anything, but I know you’re the kind of man that would help me with something like this. Was I wrong in thinking that?”
“No, no!” Sanji stuttered in his reply, eyes wide open as little heart formed in his pupils. “I mean, I would love to help! I understand, you’re a lady in need, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t offer my assistance, right?”
You reached for one of the napkins, removing Sanji’s hand from his face to wipe off the blood, noticing the dopey smile on his lips. Your heart skipped a beat in response; he was silly and adorable and a pervert, just what you needed.
“Is that a yes, then?”
“Yeah, yes!” Sanji practically yelled.
Discarding the napkin, you knelt down to pick up the broken glass. Sanji jolted, obviously surprised by the idea of you getting on your knees for him, before realizing what you were doing; but you were then intrigued by the prospect of a similar situation.
“Don’t do that, honey! You’ll hurt your hands!” He said, immediately moving to pick up the broken pieces himself.
Sanji pried the glass from your hands, and cleaned up the floor in what was probably record time.
As soon as he was done, you grabbed his hand and led him out of the kitchen. You heard his audible gasp as you quickly made your way to the aquarium.
You had it very clear in your mind that there wasn’t any privacy on the ship; there was a high chance that even if you were to be completely secretive about your dalliance with Sanji, someone would notice. The bar was the only room currently empty, and one that would not be occupied unless Zoro ran out of his booze supply (which you hoped didn’t happen anytime soon). Nonetheless, it was still a completely open place, but you hoped to God no one would dare to peek inside or through the glass of the aquarium, at least for the time being.
Locking the door once you stepped in, you glance at Sanji who seemed to be nervous yet extremely thrilled about the idea of being any kind of intimate with you. He stared at you with wide eyes, tugging slightly at his tie. It was an unbearably hot day outside, yet he was in his usual suit and tie; attractive and handsome as always.
“Sanji, if you’re not comfortable with this-”
“What? No, no!” He interrupted you with a squeaky voice. “I mean, yes, I do wanna do this.”
“Okay, good.” You smiled sweetly at him, approaching him slowly, sliding your hands up his shoulders once he was within your reach. “If there’s something you don’t like, you can tell me.”
“I don’t think that will happen.” He said, making you chuckle.
Sanji’s gaze was fixed on your lips as he leaned in towards you, his forehead almost touching yours. He was obviously waiting for any instruction you might give, and you noticed his arms reaching, almost grabbing you, but eventually desisting.
You understood his uneasiness and you knew how to help him.
Standing on your tiptoes, with hands skimming upwards to cup his face, you gently brought him closer to press your lips to his. He took a sharp intake of breath, like he couldn’t believe you were kissing him. You kept it simple and chaste, just lips pressing together for a long couple of seconds, before you pulled back.
To your amusement, Sanji chased after your lips, almost bending over. You couldn’t blame him; that simple touch was making you lightheaded.
“What can I do, darling?” He asked with uncertainty. You had never seen such a look in his eyes, like he was begging for any kind of affection you’d want to offer.
“Anything, you can touch me all you want.”
You didn’t wait for him to reply, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to kiss him again. With a noise of surprise, he responded promptly, holding tightly onto your waist.
This kiss was nothing like the previous one. He tasted just like you imagined, like cigarettes and spices, and it made you all the more weak. Your tongues tangled together as you pressed your body against him. You both moaned into each other’s mouths, his hands fervently gripping yours like you might slip away.
A whimper slipped from his lips when you twisted your fingers in his hair. Sanji was a lot weaker than you expected him to be, and it thrilled you even more.
When you broke apart, Sanji kept his lips on you, planting kisses to the corner of your mouth, to your chin and down your jaw.
“Oh, baby, you taste so good!” He praised you, nuzzling your neck. “If this is a cruel joke, I’m glad it’s you who’s using me.”
“A joke?” You asked, laughing at the ridiculous idea. “I promise you it’s not. I want this, I want you.”
Sanji kissed your lips again, humming contently.
“Say it again, please.”
“I want you.”
“Again.”
“Do you want me to keep saying it or do you wanna get things going?”
You didn’t wait for a reply as you tug his jacket open and let it fall to the floor. Sanji was at a loss for words, letting you do as you pleased when you guided him to the lounge with your hands on your shoulders. He sat down once the back of his knees hit the edge of the seat, looking at you expectantly.
Watching his eyes almost falling off his face as you took off your dress was worth all the berries in the world. You pulled the piece of clothing up and off your head, discarding it randomly, presenting your body to him in just your underwear.
“Oh, darling.” Sanji pleaded when you leaned down, hands on his shoulders as you pressed another kiss to his lips. “You’re so beautiful, I’ve never seen anyone as gorgeous as you.”
“Thank you.”
You gave him a smile as you sank to your knees, right between his legs. When his eyes bulged out for the third time, you worried briefly that he might get permanent damage.
“Shit- Yo-You don’t have to do that!” Sanji stuttered to get the words out as he reached for your hand, tugging gently at it to make you stand, but you didn’t budge.
“You don’t want me to?”
The silence that followed almost made you laugh, especially when you noticed the internal struggle he was going through.
“...I feel like that’s a trick question.”
“Sanji,” You countered, chuckling quietly as you squeezed his hand reassuringly. “I want you. Do you want me?”
“Yes.” He replied promptly, eager and grateful. “Yes, yeah, please, I’ll be good.”
You couldn’t believe his overall attitude at the idea of you pleasing him, and it was working well for you; you’ve never seen anyone as attractive as he was right then. With skillful hands, you undid his pants, and he obediently lifted his hips to let you put them down his thighs, along with his underwear, to free his erection.
It was your turn to have your eyes pop out. His cock sprang free, long and achingly hard, throbbing when your breath hit the sensitive skin. You had barely just kissed and he was that excited? You must have won the lottery.
The muscles in his abdomen flexed when you pushed up his shirt to press open-mouth kisses, nuzzling the trail of hair near the base of his length. He cursed softly under his breath when you dart out your tongue to lick at the tip.
When you wrapped your lips around the head, you glanced up at him; his face was red, hair disheveled, and chest heaving like you had just put him through hell when you had barely even touched him. The sight alone made slick drip down your pussy, drenching your panties.
“Shit- baby, sweetheart… You’re so good to me, honey…” Sanji whined, loud and sharp, when you softly sucked.
Your tongue swirled around the tip as you wrapped your fingers around the rest of his manhood. When you stroked him, nice and slow at first, you tasted precum. His hips bucked just then, making more of it fit past your lips.
“Fuck, sorry!” One of his hands settled on your head, though he quickly put it away, letting you move as you pleased.
You hummed happily as more precum leaked from the tip onto your tongue. Sanji was panting, whole body trembling underneath your ministrations as you steadily bobbed your head. His reaction was doing things to you, heat tightening in your lower abdomen as arousal kept soaking your underwear. When you slid more of his cock into your mouth, his thighs quivered when you sloppily sucked, his breathing getting louder and uneven the more you swallowed.
“God, babe, I’m gonna-”
Sanji didn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence before he was filling your mouth with cum.
It had been unexpected for you even when the signs were there, and you inevitably gagged but swallowed it all anyway, pumping his cock to help him ride out his orgasm. He let out a shaky groan, hips thrusting into your mouth until he had completely emptied himself.
It had surprised you that he had come so quickly, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome.
“Shit, I’m so sorry, darling!” He exclaimed, gazing at you through hooded eyes as he reached for your face, cupping your cheeks. “Spit it out.”
Pleased with yourself, you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue to show him you had actually nothing to spit out.
“You-You swallowed it?!”
When you grinned in response, he pressed kisses to your lips, cheeks, chin and nose.
“Fuck, you’re amazing, you made me feel so good, I can’t believe you did that.” Sanji praised you in between kisses, making you giggle. The knot in your abdomen grew tighter with each praise, so maybe all his amorous compliments could work on you during these moments.
After covering your face with kisses, he locked his lips with yours, this time sliding his tongue into your mouth, tasting himself. He moaned as you returned the kiss just as enthusiastically.
“Will you let me taste you, my love, please?” He asked like he was imploring for mercy. “I want to make you feel just as good.”
Your pussy fluttered in response, you wouldn’t even dare to deny him.
When you nodded, Sanji had already moved you to sit next to him. He got down on the floor, on his knees, in the blink of an eye, taking your breath away when he looked at you with puppy eyes. Hunger bloomed inside you, which was funny considering that you were about to have his mouth on you.
You graced him with a view of your tits as you took off your bra. His breath hitched as his hands squeezed your waist before moving upwards to cup your breasts. You let him play with them, his soft fingers squeezing and massaging your flesh before running his thumbs over your nipples, making you gasp.
You enjoyed the attention but you quickly hooked your thumbs on the waistband of your panties, eager to move along. Sanji helped you undress, sliding the undergarment down your legs and off.
Perching your feet on the velvety seat, you fully exposed yourself to him. The groan he let out once your glistening pussy was on display was sinful, like he had never in his life seen anything as tempting. You watched him closely; his face was completely flushed, breath uneven as he took in the sight of you offering yourself to him.
“You’re a goddess…” Sanji sighed, mesmerized, gaze not wavering as he pressed kisses to the inside of your thighs.
“You’re so sweet to me, honey.” You rewarded him with praise, burying your fingers in his hair and pushing it away from his face.
You both moaned in unison when his fingers slid between your folds, creating a sinfully wet sound. It was an experimental, careful touch, slowly dragging his digits from your entrance up to your clit. Sanji studied the shape of your pussy like it was an exotic treasure, and you would have felt self-conscious if it wasn’t for the fact that his intense attention to your pleasure was making you even wetter.
Your legs twitched when he stroked your clit just right, and his eyes settled on your face then. Pressing another kiss, this time closer to your entrance, he attentively glided his fingers through the same spot. When a gasp slipped past your lips, his eyes twinkled.
His hot breath washed over the sensitive skin before his tongue made contact with your folds, sliding up towards your clit. The feeling of it was different from his fingers; it was softer, warmer and slick, making you moan as the pleasure inside you grew tighter. He groaned simultaneously, and you watched his eyes roll back, utterly lost in your taste.
Sanji gained confidence when he saw your reactions, and he spread your pussy with his tongue, licking a strip from your entrance to your clit before pressing a kiss there. He did it again and again until you were trembling; you didn’t know if he did it on purpose but he seemed to be teasing you, making your pleasure grow but never enough to help you get closer to the edge.
“Fuck, please…” You whimpered, urging his head forward.
The hearts in Sanji’s eyes returned when you begged him, and he looked up at you with eagerness as he shifted his focus to your clit. Your legs clamped around his head, a wanton noise escaping your lips when he moved his tongue, sending jolts of pleasure up your spine. With a moan, he coaxed your legs open, kneading the fat of your thighs before swinging them over his shoulders. He buried his face further, pressing his nose to your mound, suckling on your clit like it was the only thing keeping him alive.
You were at a loss for what to do with yourself. Your hips rocked slightly against his face within the restriction of his grip, every sound imaginable spilling from your lips. Your hand twisted in his hair like an anchor to reality because you couldn’t believe how good it felt, how fucking amazing it was to have him slurp and lick at your pussy like you were the most delicious meal. You briefly regretted not having proposed to him before; you had been sharing the same space as the man who had given you the best head you ever had.
With exploring hands, Sanji kneaded every inch of your body while he kissed and lapped at your clit, grabbing and gripping at every crease and fold. When he pinched your nipples at the same time he suckled particularly hard, ecstasy made your entire body tremble.
“Oh God!” You almost yelled, tugging at his hair as your hips bucked against his face. “Don’t stop, baby, you’re doing so good…”
Sanji groaned in response, pressing a loud kiss to your clit before resuming his work with his tongue.
You were dancing close to the edge, the warm knot in your abdomen so close to snapping it was making you dizzy. When he slurped, you ground down against his tongue as much as you could, until you felt your vision turning hazy.
“You’re gonna make me come…” You whimpered, just as your thighs began to shudder.
Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, immersing you in electrifying sensations from the tip of your fingers to the top of your head. Your toes curled as you let out a stuttering, dragged out moan. He kept going, eating you out and collecting your release with his tongue like he couldn’t get enough of you, making your eyes cross.
Sanji groaned at your taste and watched you as if you were the sun itself, completely enamoured with the expressions and the sounds you were making. He only relented when you gently pulled at his hair, overwhelmed by the ongoing stimulation.
Easing his hold on you but never letting go, he pressed kisses on your mound all the way up to your hip.
“You taste so good, you’re so perfect,” Sanji praised you, a kiss planted on every inch of your skin he could reach. “So beautiful when you come, my darling.”
You sighed, slowly coming down from your high with each kiss he offered. Your legs felt like jelly and thighs were still tingly from the delicious orgasm you just had. What was helping you most was Sanji, currently nuzzling the valley between your tits, humming contently when you slid your fingers through his hair soothingly.
You brought his face to yours, kissing him softly and tasting yourself on his mouth when you tangled your tongue with his.
It had been an enlightening experience so far, and you were greedy after a taste of heaven.
“Ready for more?” You asked, carefully moving your foot up his thigh, only to find he was sporting a newfound erection as you graced your toes over his sensitive cock.
“Yes, baby, whatever you want.” Sanji replied with a shudder. “You can use me however you like.”
You graced him with a smile, pecking his lips once before you moved. Tugging at his tie, you urged him to crawl on top of you as you laid down across the seat, feeling the soft velvet underneath you as you settled there. He followed your wordless instruction, bracing one arm on the backrest as he pulled down his pants even more before fitting his hips between your legs.
Sanji was hot in his always impeccable button up shirt and tie, but you were eager to see his bare chest for once, and quickly helped him get rid of them, practically yanking his shirt open. The urgency was obvious for the both of you, and you giggled when you saw the silly smile on his lips once the shirt was randomly discarded.
Hooking your ankles around the back of his thighs, you urged him forward, rolling your hips once his cock was close enough that you could grind your pussy against it. Barely touching, but you still feel the warmth of it, making you moan.
His breath hitched at the sight, hands settling on your hips, squeezing with affection.
“Sanji, what are you waiting for?” You asked with a pout, moving your hips again to incite him.
“Fuck, sorry, let me just…” He groaned, the one visible eye not leaving your pussy, dripping wet underneath his erection. “I just wanna admire you for a little longer, love.”
You huffed, but your face heated up anyway. You took the opportunity to run your hands down his chest, feeling his smooth skin and firm muscles with the tip of your fingers. His hips stuttered forward, the tip of his dick bumping into your clit, when your hands reached his lower abdomen. You both moaned simultaneously, that simple brush of skin enough to kindle a fire inside you.
It was almost comical how aching hard Sanji’s cock was when he had already come minutes ago. When you wrapped your hand around it, it throbbed, and a whine spilled from his lips.
Unable to hold back anymore, you lined up his cock to your entrance, steadily moving your hips to fit just the tip.
“You’re always so sweet to me, Sanji,” Your voice came out soft, teasing, looking up at him as he groaned at the feeling of your warmth. “I want you to fuck me, baby, c’mon.”
His face was already flushed from the previous activities, but somehow he managed to get even redder, and for a second you worried that he might get a nosebleed. But he only gasped at your words, gazing at you with glee. His fingers gripped you tighter, trembling slightly as he slowly slid in more of his length.
Sanji was careful, moving in a few inches before pulling back. He was being considerate, trying not to hurt you, but the leisured thrusts were making you dizzy, teasing you as the tip of his length grazed your most sensitive spots. Impatient and needy, you pressed your feet to his butt, prodding him to move.
With a thrust that wasn’t entirely on purpose, he buried his cock to the hilt, making your pussy flutter around him. You moaned loud and sharp, back arching instantly at the sudden fullness.
“Oh my God…” Sanji grunted, hands holding onto your waist, firm and possessive.
Luckily, you didn’t need to beg for him to move again. He was still mindful, steadily sliding his dick out before moving back in, but it was a constant stimulation that made pleasure travel through you once more. The skin between your legs pulsed, sensitive from the work his wonderful tongue had done on you, and your eyes rolled back promptly with every move of his hard cock.
You held tightly onto the seat when Sanji picked up the pace, using a little more force when your moans got louder and your pussy dripped down more of your slick onto his manhood. You looked at him, lost in your growing ecstasy, just in time when his eyes crossed.
“You feel so good, so hot, shit…” His voice was breathy, struggling to form a coherent sentence, but his urge to praise you was stronger. “You’re so gorgeous, so beautiful, thank you, thank you, darling.”
You let out a breathy laugh, cut off by a whimper as he pumped into you particularly hard. At that point, you felt like you should be the one thanking him.
The control Sanji had been holding onto seemed to be slipping the more your pussy clenched around his girth. He promptly pulled your hips back to meet his thrusts, groaning every time your hole swallowed his dick. His gaze fixed on you, enraptured with the way your body moved, from your thighs holding tightly onto him to the way your tits bounced with each snap of his hips.
You gazed at him with the same intensity, delight surging just by looking at him. You’d think that by the way he was fucking you, he had probably thought about it before, maybe even like he was doing then, the exact same position-
“Wanted to do this for so long, my love.” Sanji’s confession rolled off his tongue naturally, quiet like a whisper but with certainty, as he leaned over you, planting kisses down your neck. “I knew you’d feel amazing, so hot and soft…”
Words simply escaped you when you tried to respond because as soon as those words slipped from his lips, he began to pump his hips deeper and faster. His hot mouth trailed kisses down your chest, tongue swirling around one of your nipples, adding to the burning desire currently growing in your lower abdomen.
You had never made the kind of sounds that were being ripped from you, so loud and nasty, but he was making all kinds of noises as well, slurring against your chest, in between groans, terms of endearment like “baby, princess, sweetheart” that made your heart and pussy flutter. You wrapped an arm around his neck, keeping him close to you, as you sneaked your other hand between your bodies, pressing your fingers to your clit when you felt like your release was just around the corner.
Sanji noticed, of course, and stared at the way you touched yourself like he was bewitched. He huffed like he had been wounded when your pussy squeezed his cock the more you stroked your clit.
“Fuck, please- I’m not gonna last, honey.” He said, like he was desperately sorry.
“I’m close, too…” You managed to say between gasps. “Want to feel you come…”
His hips stuttered, rhythm getting uneven, and his cock twitched inside you. Those were all the signs you got before cum filled your pussy to the brim. You moaned as his body trembled above you, his face buried in your neck, gasping and cursing as he still pumped his cock in and out of you, riding out his orgasm.
The unexpected fullness of it, his cum making every thrust slicker and hotter, and the compliments he was murmuring against your skin pushed you over the edge. You see stars behind your lids, mind turning white with overwhelming euphoria. Your body shuddered, back arching as your pussy milked his cock dry.
Sanji practically collapsed on top of you, his cock still buried inside you, as you both tried to catch your breath. His hold on you remains firm, arms wrapping tightly around your waist.
As you came back down from the haze, you smoothly ran your fingers through his hair while staring at the ceiling. You were speechless and utterly lost at the experience you just had. You didn’t want to venture and say it had been the best sex you ever had, but even if it wasn’t, it was up there in the top three.
After a moment of comfortable silence, Sanji pulled himself up enough to steady his gaze on your face.
“That was perfect, sweetheart, you’re so pretty.” His compliments came out naturally as his fingers caressed your cheek. You suddenly felt sheepish when you noticed the affection in his eyes. “Thank you for letting me do this with you.”
The state you were in, post-orgasm and mind clouded, was what was making your heart flutter. That had to be it.
“My pleasure, babe.”
When you smiled, Sanji leaned down again to plant a sweet kiss on your cheek.
“Was I good?”
You immediately sensed the nervousness in his tone, and pet his head in response as he trailed his lips down your neck. Normally, you’d crack a joke, tease him about him being anxious when he just nutted inside you, but you knew he was being honest in his insecurity. You wanted to do this again with him, and reassuring him that you had, indeed, seen the stars courtesy of his wonderful cock was a good way of making that happen.
“Sanji, baby, you made me come twice. I think that’s more than ‘good’.”
His head perked up, looking at you with twinkling eyes.
“Really?!”
“Yes!” You giggled, cradling his face. “You were amazing, so nice to me, just what I needed.”
Sanji grinned, giddy and smug, as you kissed him.
You stayed there for a little while, bodies intertwined while exchanging kisses, in comfortable peace until the possibility of being found started to worry you.
“We should probably go…”
The huff he let out as he pouted made you laugh.
When Sanji sat up, his cock finally slid out of your pussy, making you both hiss. The skin between your legs was still sensitive, a little soreness settling in, but it also gave you a certain pleasant sensation, especially when his cum started leaking down your thighs. He watched you for a moment, completely mesmerized, before he tucked himself back in his pants. To your amusement, you saw him wipe the blood that had started dripping down his nose when he started putting his shirt back on.
He helped you with your clothes, carefully adjusting your bra back on before sliding your dress down your body, and you thanked him with a kiss as you both stood up, tenderly stroking his cheek.
“You can keep my panties, by the way.” You said when Sanji gazed at you with hearts instead of pupils.
Luffy is already in that needy, instinct-driven mood.
His hips are slamming into you, balls hitting against your ass, his thrusts are fast and rough. “Hnghh! s’good!” His voice is spilling out loud moans and gasps without holding back. He’s not thinking about the pace or rhythm, he’s just lost in the feeling of your pussy squeezing around him, too tight every damn time. His mouth is open, drooling against your neck, teeth grazing skin like he can’t decide whether to moan or bite.
“y/n, fuuckk.. s’tight!—“ he moans out, hands running down your body before gripping you, his fingers digging in your hips as if he’s keeping you tightly in place while his cock slides even deeper inside your wetness, as far as he can go. His leaking tip hits against the end of your cunt each time, pre-cum coating your already-wet velvety walls.
You're a mess underneath him. “L-lu!—Ah!“ your body is limp but so alive, shaking from every thrust. Your thighs quiver and your back arches helplessly, your mouth keeps falling open with these uncontrollable sounds that get louder and louder. “I—hnghh, ahhn! Luffyy!—“ Your pussy can’t stop clenching around him, and the overstimulation is so much that your whole body searches for something to cling to.
And then without thinking, it happens.
Your nails drag down Luffy’s back. Not gently. Hard. Deep red lines bloom down his skin as you scratch, desperate, grounding yourself in the only way you can. You’re crying out Luffy’s name, sobbing from the pleasure, your hands raking over Luffy’s sweaty back like if you’ll let go, you’ll drown in it.
Luffy shudders the second he feels it. His moan cuts into a sharp gasp, his whole body jerks like electricity shot through him. He’d never felt that before, never had someone mark him like that. And it drives him insane. His instincts kick in—he snarls into your neck, rutting into you harder, chest heaving, but there’s this huge grin splitting his face too.
“—Haa! y/n!! That feels good!!” he cries, voice cracked and needy, and he starts chasing it, almost angling his body so your nails keep dragging along him with every movement.
Your voice is hoarse.. breathless: “l-luffy—luffy please!~ I can’t— it’s so much—!” but your nails dig deeper anyway, your hands trembling as they tear lines down his back again and again.
Luffy is so gone that the sting just fuels him. He doesn’t slow down once, doesn’t even notice his own back burning from the scratches—it just eventually shoves him right over the edge—like his body wants it. “‘m gonna cum, gonna cum—!” the feeling of your nails deep in his back while his cock is getting hugged so tight from your sweet pussy is just too much, it feels too good. His cock throbs deep inside you, and then he’s cumming hard.
Thick, hot spurts fill your cunt in heavy waves, way more than usual, so much it leaks out almost instantly. His moans are loud, breaking into desperate little cries. “Ahhh ‘m cummin’—c-cummin’ s’good.. feels s’good!..haaah—!!” He moans out, eyes half lidded and glazed with pleasure.
His back is still raking against your trembling nails, every sting sparking another throb, another spurt. His hips jerk through it, rutting sloppily, chasing every last drop, still thrusting deep in you—fucking himself through his orgasm.
And you—the moment Luffy empties inside you while rutting so hard, your body shatters, a sharp aching jolt running down your spine as your cunt clenches hard around Luffy’s length, fluttering and sucking him deeper, overstimulated to hell. Your legs quake and lock around Luffy’s waist, heels digging in. You sob out, voice high and broken “hngh—! ‘m—ahhh!!”
And then you're cumming too, hard, pussy spasming. The overstimulation is unbearable, your nerves feel like they’re on fire, every thrust dragging you through wave after wave. Your scratches get even deeper into Luffy’s back, nails trembling but desperate, carving red streaks as you cry out helplessly while he continues to fuck into you.
By the time it ends, Luffy is still above you, panting, drooling on your neck with the dopiest, bliss-drunk grin. His back is a canvas of red marks and welts, but he’s giggling breathlessly, voice hoarse, “Shishishi… that was s’amazing… y/n, you scratched me sooo good… it made me cum s’hard…” he sighs happily.
Luffy’s back is covered in raw, red lines, some still stinging, some bleeding lightly, but he doesn’t care at all—he’s still just grinning like he just had the best meal of his life, “You scratched me a lot, y/n. Do it again next time, ‘kay?” While you just whined underneath him, your pussy fluttering weakly around luffy’s cock as you can’t think straight right now.
Luffy’s humming to himself after, pulling his blue shorts back on, tying his yellow sash lazily around his waist. He’s still sweaty, hair sticking out in every direction, but his grin is wide and boyish.
You’re sitting on the bed, blanket bunched around your waist, legs trembling, face still hot and flushed. You catch a glimpse of Luffy’s back as he straightens up—and your eyes widen.
The whole expanse of his tanned skin is covered in angry red scratches, some raw and welted, a few with little beads of blood. They run all the way down his back, vivid and shameless. You instantly go pale, your hands flying to your mouth. “Luffy—!!” Your voice cracks, horrified. “I–I did that?! Oh my god—I’m so sorry! Does it hurt?! I didn’t mean to—!”
Luffy glances over his shoulder, blinking. “Huh? Oh.” He cranes his neck to try and see his own back, but then just shrugs like it’s nothing.
You're scrambling, cheeks burning, trying to reach for him. “I-I scratched you so bad! You’re bleeding a little—Luffy, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
But Luffy just laughs, that carefree, belly-deep laugh, his grin stretching wide. “Shishishi! Why’re ya apologizin’? I liked it!”
You froze, speechless. Your whole face goes pink, ears hot, lips fumbling to form words. “Y-You… you liked that?!”
Luffy just tilts his head, totally serious but playful. “Yeah! It made me cum way harder. Ya should do it again next time!”
You make this tiny strangled noise, burying your red face into your hands, completely overwhelmed. You don’t know if you want to sink into the floor or kiss Luffy senseless. Your chest is pounding, and all you can manage is a muffled “l-luffy..”
Luffy just plops down next to you with that goofy grin, eventually pressing your foreheads together. “What? It’s true! You’re the best, y/n!” He giggles as he wraps an arm around your waist, nudging you to get up. “C’mon, let’s go!” He announces, that made you let out a sigh, at least he doesn’t mind the scratches you desperately made on him.
Later, when Luffy’s still wandering around shirtless, you're trailing behind him like a little stormcloud of nerves. Every time you see those deep red scratch marks across Luffy’s back, your stomach flips, especially because the crew definitely would notice.
You finally tug him into their room, cheeks pink, holding a little jar of cream Chopper gave you for cuts and scrapes. “Sit down, Luffy..” you mutter, voice all wobbly but stern. “I need to clean your back.”
Luffy blinks at you, tilting his head like a puppy. “Huh? Why?”
Your face heats. You gesture weakly at his back. “B–Because you’re covered in scratches! And they’re from me… If the others see, they’ll—they’ll ask questions!”
Luffy just grins at that, plopping down cross-legged on the bed like this is some big fun game. “So what? I’ll just tell ’em ya did it.”
“Luffy!!” You squeak, nearly dropping the cream. Your whole face is glowing red now. “Y–You can’t just say that! Do you want everyone to know?!”
Luffy blinks at you innocently, totally confused. “Why not!? I told ya I liked it!” He’s so cheerful about it, so blunt. His big smile is making you want to melt into the floor.
You let out a groan, covering your face with one hand, but you still scoop out some of the cream with trembling fingers. Carefully, gently, you smooth it over the angry lines down Luffy’s back. Your touch is tender, almost reverent, even as you stammer out “jeez.. you’re so shameless, y’know that? Aren’t you embarrassed..?”
Luffy giggles at the cold cream, wriggling but letting you work. “Embarrassed? Why? You’re mine! If ya scratch me, then ya scratch me. I don’t care if they see.”
You go silent, your throat tight, you can’t argue with that blunt honesty—it always leaves you speechless. All you can do is keep tending the scratches with careful little touches, your heart pounding like crazy. When you’re done, Luffy twists around and suddenly wraps both of his arms around your waist, hugging you tight with a cheeky grin. “Thanks, y/n! You’re always so nice to me!”
At night, the ship is quiet, everyone else is asleep. But Luffy’s sprawled on top of you, cheek squished against your chest, drooling just a little with that blissful knocked-out smile. His arms are wrapped around you like he’s never letting go.
You’re wide awake, though. Your fingers keep ghosting over Luffy’s back where the scratches are still faintly raised and red. Every time your fingertips trail across them, your chest squeezes with guilt and warmth all at once. You pout down at the mess you left, whispering softly even though Luffy’s practically half-asleep “..You really could’ve told me to stop…”
But Luffy shifts at the touch, a sleepy hum slipping out of him. “Mmm… don’t stop...” His voice is slurred, half-asleep but honest.
You sigh, blushing furiously, eventually you duck your face into Luffy’s messy hair with a shaky little smile. Your nails drag so carefully now, just tracing the lines you left behind, softer than soft. Not hurting—just petting, retracing what you did. Your voice is a whisper, shaky but affectionate “I’d never hurt you… I was so scared that I did… but you really did like it, huh?”
Luffy giggles against your chest in his sleep “mmm.. liked it… ‘lots…” he mumbles.
And your heart melts completely at that, your chest aching with love. You keep scratching lightly, almost massaging up and down Luffy’s back until your own eyelids grow heavy. Before you drift off, you press a kiss into Luffy’s hair and whispered “…love you, lu..” after that, you finally let yourself sleep, your arms locked protectively around your beloved captain.
do not copy, translate, plagiarize or put my writing into ai ⋆˚⟡˖
Clark has got to be one of the best-written horror antagonists in recent memory, and the thing I love most about his character is how the film makes you understand his hardships, while at the same time not using them to justify, excuse, or downplay his actions.
You really get a clear idea of how his own hardships inspire the bad decisions he makes. And at the same time, it doesn't pull any punches in showing you the consequences of those decisions, which ultimately resulted in the creation of the Captain Clark entity.
Yes, I don't doubt that he was going through a very difficult time in his life, but it goes without saying that it doesn't give him the right to lash out at everyone and make their lives difficult. And it sure as hell didn't give him the right to take out his frustrations on his spouse or Mary!!!
That's why I love (to hate) him so much! He's not some run-of-the-mill mustache-twirling villain. He's understandable, relatable, and even sympathetic! And at the same time, the film is smart enough to not use those things that make him understandable, relatable, and sympathetic to excuse the harm and hurt he chose to inflict.
P.S. Mary's crashout on him was absolutely glorious to behold!
Summary: Separating means that neither you nor Leon should care what the other does with anyone else. He seems to have forgotten that detail though, and honestly, you're not far behind either.
General Warnings: Exes-to-Lovers, Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Jealousy
Chapter Warnings: Panty Stealing
When you woke up on Saturday you expected your home to be silent enough to hear a pin drop, but the laughter that wakes you quickly crushes that expectation. Peeks of sunlight enter your bedroom, forcing you to actually open your eyes and start your day– At least the sunlight serves as reassurance that you aren’t waking up at the crack of dawn because one of the girls needs your help. You don’t want to admit it, but it’s nice to have Leon in your home helping.
You sit up on your bed, staring around the empty room, mustering up the courage and patience to actually go out of your bedroom. You love them with all your might, but sometimes you need a break from being a mom. If you’re in the room, Diana and Anastasia flock to you for every little thing, even if Leon is present.
“Give it back, Diana!” “No! It’s mine!” “Daddy gave it to me!” “Nuh-uh!” “Yes-uh!”
Today was supposed to be the one day that you didn’t have to hear the neverending arguing. Alas, there’s nothing you can do now. You stand up from bed, walking to the bathroom to begin your day.
“Hey, do you want anything special for breakfast?!” Leon yells, knocking on your bedroom door. He guesses you can’t sleep through the chaos that’s outside, and while he’s right, you still roll your eyes for his lack of consideration. What if you were still drooling all over your pillow?
You don’t answer, prioritizing getting ready. It’s not like you have any plans of going out today, but getting ready makes you more productive overall. You’re half naked, running around the room trying to find something that’s simply clean, but it’s to no avail.
“Hey–” Leon opens the door without knocking, eyes quickly widening when he sees that you’re practically naked. Instead of doing the respectable thing and shutting the door, he stands still and stares like a buffoon. Before he can properly form a thought, a pillow lands on his face, pushing him back.
“Close the door, you pervert!” you yell, and it takes him a second but Leon ultimately shuts the door. He stares at the wooden door with flushed cheeks, heart feeling as if it were about to beat out of his chest. He smirks and walks back to the dining room table to tend to his girls.
“Who wants more pancakes?” he asks, though the girls are too busy fighting to notice their father. It’s a good thing though, he wouldn’t want them to question why his cheeks are pink.
“Give it to me, Dia! It’s mine!”
“No! It’s mine!”
“Another batch of pancakes coming up then,” he sighs before a low laugh escapes his lips. This is going to be his life forever, but he’s not exactly mad about it either.
“Do you know anyone named Ada?” You find yourself on your best friend’s couch, worried a little too much about your ex-husband’s private life. She hands you a glass filled to the brim with moscato before sitting down beside you.
“Why would I?” Chloe asks, tilting her head to the side. “Is Leon seeing–”
“Why does everything have to be about Leon?” You cut her off, and she begins to laugh. She laughs because she knows the next words to leave your mouth will be concerning him. “Yeah, maybe it has to do with him.”
“How did you find out about this Ada?” She tries her best to maintain a straight face. It’s no matter of laughter but she can’t help it; though you claim you’re absolutely over Leon, he comes up quite often in your conversations.
“She was calling him last night, and when I asked him about it he said she was no one,” you share, and she frowns.
“Didn’t you have a date last night?” she recalls, and you nod before taking a long sip of your drink.
“Long story short he crashed my date,” you answer. You don’t want to give her all the details about it. You’re already upset about this morning and the phone call from last night, you don’t need to remember the details from your date last night.
“Okay.” She nods, and it takes everything in her not to laugh. “So you asked about Ada and he said it’s no one… Did you try bribing him?”
“I did, and it didn’t work,” you answer, and she raises her brow. It shouldn’t be too shocking, Leon is an honorable man, but it’s rare when he turns you down. And by rare she means it’s nearly impossible.
“What did you use?”
You look off to the side, feeling your face get hot as you’re put on the spot. You bite down your lip, debating if you want to admit it. This is one of those situations where you take your secret to the grave. Still, you whisper, “Sex.”
“Huh? Speak up, honey,” she tells you, leaning forward to hear you better. You could die inside knowing that you have to repeat yourself.
“Sex.” This time she hears you loud and clear, and she chokes on her drink. She starts to hit her chest as she coughs up the liquid. You gulp down the rest of your drink as she calms the coughing down. You stand up from the couch, searching for another bottle to open and drink.
“You offered him sex and he–” she trips over her words, trying to wrap her mind around the concept. “Oh, honey.”
“He’s definitely seeing her,” you end up chuckling, wondering why you needed some sort of second opinion when it’s so painfully obvious. You shouldn’t care, it’s none of your business– Even though you keep repeating the same words in your brain over and over again, you’re filling up your glass to the brim again.
“I just think it’s funny that he gets to crash and ruin my date while he’s seeing someone else. He can’t have his cake and eat it–”
“Someone’s calling you,” Chloe interrupts you as she hears your ringtone. She searches for your phone, and when she finally finds it, she holds it up like a trophy. She scoffs as she sees who’s calling you. “Speak of the devil.”
“Don’t pick it–”
“Hey Leon,” she says before you get to finish your sentence. A sigh escapes your lips, and you roll your eyes as you begin to converse. The bottle isn’t empty, and your glass is nearly spilling from overflow, making you bring the bottle up to your lips and chug. You’re drinking like a college girl all over again because of a man you divorced over two years ago.
“Hey, Chloe. How are you?” Leon doesn’t even question why Chloe picks up your phone, it’s a rather common occurrence.
“I’m good, just chilling. How about you?” They continue having a conversation until you sit down next to her again.
“What do you need, Leon?” you chime in, taking the phone from Chloe, taking it off speaker.
“Hey, are you two at your place?” he asks, not giving you the same courtesy he gives your friend. In his defense, Leon saw you in the morning, he already knows how you’re doing.
“No, why?” you reply, furrowing your brows at the question.
“Anastasia forgot her doll and she refuses to go to sleep without it,” he tells you, and you pinch the bridge of your nose knowing that this is an important matter. Anastasia is as stubborn as they come, she’ll refuse to sleep until she has her doll. “Can I go to your place and–”
“Knock yourself out, you know where the spare key is,” you answer. “Just make sure to lock up before you go and you’re all good.”
“Okay, thank you–” Before he can finish his sentence, you interrupt him. He’s already on the line, you might as well ask while you have the courage.
“While you’re on the phone, who’s Ada?” You hear him laugh at the question, making you click your tongue. You have a serious question for him and yet he laughs as if it were some sort of joke.
“Sweetheart, I already told you she’s no one.”
“You’re such a filthy liar,” you scoff before hanging up on him, not giving him the chance to defend himself. Leon can say anything and you won’t believe him. You’ve already made up your mind, Ada is his lover and you won’t accept anything else.
“What did he say?” Chloe questions, and you puff out a breath as you shake your head in response. He didn’t say anything that’s worth mentioning, and that’s your problem. If Ada truly wasn’t anyone worth mentioning, she wouldn’t be calling him late, and he certainly wouldn’t just say that she’s no one.
“I’ll be there soon, Sherry. I just have to find Ana’s doll– Hold on.” Leon’s hand searches over the doorframe to find the key that he hid in the morning. The doormat was simply way too obvious, he needed to find a safer spot. He finally feels the cold metal between his fingers and unlocks the door. “There we go.”
“It’s okay, I don’t mind, the girls are–” Sherry begins, but all Leon can hear is the arguing in the background. He feels awful for bothering Sherry, it’s finals week and she’s busy with her own life, yet he called her for something trivial. “They’re the sweetest. My final essay isn’t due until midnight anyway.”
“I’ll be there soon,” he says as he enters the home. He hangs up before he gets too deep into the place. It feels weird to enter the home and have it be this silent. Leon is too used to chaos every time he steps into the place.
He turns on the lights, and though the first place he should check should be Anastasia’s bedroom, his eyes land on a door that he has no business going through. The better part of Leon tells him to get the stupid doll and get out of the home. But his feet subconsciously guide him to your room– He just wants to take a quick look around, nothing more.
He turns on your bedroom light, eyes scanning the room before walking to the closet. He’s determined to check one thing and one thing only, and then he’ll walk off as if nothing happened. He’s not taking anything valuable, he would never steal from you… Not something that you’d notice is missing at least.
“Jackpot.” His eyes sparkle when he sees the hamper that’s full of dirty clothes. He really shouldn’t. But his hand moves on its own, roaming through the dirty clothes until he finally gets his filthy hands on what he’s looking for.
The red panties catch his attention, and he doesn’t waste a second before separating them from the pile. Leon bites down his lip as he stares down at his prize. He’s really stooped to this level. He doesn’t even think for a moment about how perverted his actions are, he just brings up the pair to his nose and takes in your scent.
“Oh, you’re truly pathetic.” Leon nearly jumps when he hears your voice. He’s been caught red-handed, and even though he knows damn well that you saw them, he shoves the pair into his pocket.
“What are you–” Leon is at a loss of words when he finds you standing behind him. You’re leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed as you stare at the man with a disgusted look. There’s a hint of a smirk on your face, which he can decipher even though you try to hide it.
“This is my home. Now why are you in the closet and,” you reach into his pocket to pull out the panties, “why are you stealing my panties?”
“I got confused.” His cheap excuse makes you burst into laughter. Leon can survive any life and death situations but for the life of him he cannot lie.
“Confused?” you scoff. “Anastasia’s room is on the other side, pervert.”
“Pervert?” he has the audacity to ask as you dangle the pair in front of his face. He snatches them out of your grasp, shoving them into his pocket again. “Fine, maybe I am.”
“Give them back, Leon. Go ask your girlfriend for a pair.” You walk after him as he heads to Anastasia’s room to get the doll he originally came for. Perhaps he got a little side tracked, but he’s getting it now which is all that matters.
“No can do, I’d need a girlfriend for that,” he argues, and you puff out a breath. “Why is it so hard for you to believe that I’m as single as they come?”
“Since you refuse to give me a straight answer about who she is!” You slightly raise your voice, making him stop in his tracks.
He turns around to face you, cocking his eyebrow and asking, “What if I was seeing her?”
“Then you have some guts considering you crashed my date last night.”
“Is that the only reason you’re upset? Or are you jealous?” He tries his best not to crack a smile at what he says, knowing that you’d make sure to wipe the smugness off him. It’s hard not to smile when you look so clearly upset at the idea that he’s seeing someone else.
“What is there to be jealous of?” you reply, and he lets out a low sigh before shaking his head.
“You’re right. Maybe I should ask Ada out–” Before he can finish the sentence, you reach into his pocket to take back what rightfully belongs to you. “Wrong pocket.”
Before you can get a look into the other pocket, he takes a step back and escapes from your grasp, forcing you to follow after him yet again, “Leon, get back here you pervert!”
“I have to get going, babe! Sherry is taking care of the girls and she’s waiting for me.” He barges into Anastasia’s room to look for the doll– The ugly one with crayon marks all over her face and torn up clothes; but if given the choice, Anastasia would trade her whole family for the stupid doll. “It’s way past the girls’ bedtime too, you know how cranky they get.”
Summary: Separating means that neither you nor Leon should care what the other does with anyone else. He seems to have forgotten that detail though, and honestly, you're not far behind either.
General Warnings: Exes-to-Lovers, Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Jealousy
There’s a knock on the front door right at six. You nearly fall as you run to the door.
“I wanna open–” You hear the yelling behind you, but much to their dismay you’ve beat them to it. The last thing you want is a lecture from your ex-husband about how dangerous it is to have one of the girls open the door.
You’re out of breath when you finally open the door, and he’s startled at just how fast you open it. Though that startled look wears down and curiosity takes over as he looks you up and down. He furrows his brows and asks, “Are you going out?”
“Hello to you too, Leon.” You force yourself to smile at him, ignoring the question that has left his lips. He wants to pry into your personal life and you know that nothing good comes from getting him involved in your personal matters.
“Hi. Are you going out?” he asks again, making you click your tongue. You look him up and down, seeing how he’s dressed the opposite of you. He wears a black t-shirt and jeans, something casual to deal with the girls, while you’re wearing a short red dress that while certainly beautiful, is hard to accomplish much with.
“You’re right on time.” You step to the side, letting him walk into the house to pick up the girls. Leon steps inside but before walking past you he looks you up and down again.
“Girls! Are you ready?!” he yells, and they come running to him, practically jumping on him to smother him with all their love. It takes almost all of his strength, but he manages to pick up both the five and six year old. “How are my sweethearts?”
“Can we get ice cream?” your eldest immediately asks, and you massage your temple, feeling an oncoming headache. They aren’t your problem for the night at least.
“Did you bother greeting him first, Diana?” you ask, walking past them to get their stuff for the weekend. While you certainly love your daughters, the faster pickup goes, the more freedom you get to have for the weekend. You have a tight schedule today at least, you need them to get going soon.
“Hi, daddy. Can we get ice cream?” She corrects herself, and you decide not to pay too much attention to it this time around. Leon is with them, he can take over the parenting.
“Not tonight, sweetheart,” he answers, earning a pouty face from both of his daughters. The youngest does still hold a bit of hope, with just enough begging, Leon is bound to give in.
“Please, daddy,” she begs, and Leon sighs. If only there was a way for him to turn off his hearing even if it’s just for five minutes. He knows their tactics, and he’s an idiot because he still falls for it every time.
“Anastasia, I said no.” His tone becomes stern, though it’s just a facade because with just the right amount of pressure, he’ll give in. He puts them down on the floor because while Leon is strong, carrying both girls at once can certainly be an arduous task.
“Okay, bedtime’s at–” you begin as you come back with all of the girls’ stuff, but you stop as you remember that Leon is also their parent. He doesn’t need you to detail everything out for him, he can figure anything out.
“Bedtime’s when?” He doesn’t dismiss the words so easily. He has them every weekend, and when he doesn’t he makes sure to spend a lot of time with them. At this rate he should know when bedtime is.
“Figure it out,” you say as you hand him their stuff. He ends up humming in response, putting their bags over his shoulders.
This is the part where you begin to say your goodbyes and you begin your weekend. Except things aren’t going to be so easy with Leon, not while he’s staring you down like a hawk.
“What are your plans tonight again?” He won’t leave until he gets an answer, and while you think of a lie to satisfy his curiosity, your daughters seem to have another plan for you.
“Mommy’s meeting with a friend,” your eldest chimes in, earning a glare from you. Leon furrows his brows, looking back and forth between you and Diana. You clench your jaw, trying to remain calm, knowing that getting upset at your daughter isn’t going to say anything– You should’ve just kept your mouth shut when they asked why you were wearing the pretty dress. Did you really expect your daughters to stay quiet?
“Friend?” he asks, and you nod in response, nearly looking down at the floor as if you were a teenager that’s been caught redhanded. You and Leon have been separated for a while, there’s nothing for you to be ashamed of, yet you’re embarrassed. Though you greet him with the prettiest dress you have on, he wasn’t supposed to figure it out.
“Mommy’s allowed to have friends, is she not? Is she just supposed to stay inside and– Oh would you look at the time! I think you have to get going.” You try to avert their attention, though it’s not going to work so easily on Leon. Still, your hand goes to his back and you begin to guide him to the door. You look back at your daughters and motion for them to follow. “C’mon girls, daddy is waiting for you.”
“Is this friend someone I know or–”
“Why don’t you go take the girls for ice cream? There’s a new ice cream parlor just around the block,” you cut him off with the one thing the girls can resist, and you know you’ve won when they both chime in agreement. Quickly it becomes too loud for Leon to hear his own thoughts, and a subtle smile appears on your face, knowing that you’ve won.
“You said you’re a lawyer, right? What kind of law do you practice?” you ask, trying to keep conversation flowing during your first date. You can’t even remember the last time you went on a first date– You didn’t remember it being this tedious. Perhaps it’s because your date can’t keep a proper conversation flowing. Or maybe it’s because you’re not that comfortable with each other yet.
He begins to answer the question but the words don’t quite register in your mind because you see something from the corner of your eye. You hum in response, nodding as if you were actually listening to the string of words but instead you’re staring at a table in the corner. That hat looks… Oddly familiar.
“What do you do?” He gets your attention once again, but only for a minute. Your eyes quickly go back to that table in the corner, trying to decipher what bugs you about it. Your date clears his throat, making you look back at him.
“Oh, I do a lot,” you answer. And just as you’re about to give a couple more details, a familiar giggle catches your attention. Your eyes narrow as you try to figure out what goes on in the corner. You’re definitely making a bad impression, but that thought is the least of your concerns.
“Like what?” he replies, though he doesn’t get any sort of response. You stand up, putting your index finger up and giving him a sheepish smile.
“Will you excuse me for a second?” He doesn’t get the chance to answer before you’re out of his sight, walking to the table with a sense of authority. The closer you get, the madder you get as you put a face to the giggles.
You slam your hands on the table, loud enough to startle them but not loud enough to cause a scene. You glare at your ex-husband and your daughters, whispering in a threatening voice, “What are you three doing here?”
You take off the stupid hats on their heads, staring at them in disbelief.
“We were just grabbing dinner,” Leon claims, putting his hands up defensively, making the girls mimic him. You roll your eyes, knowing that the excuse would have been believable if they didn’t look so ridiculous.
Leon notes that murderous look in your eye, and he can’t help but be grateful about the fact that he’s in public. You would have his head on a silver platter if you didn’t have any witnesses.
“And you two.” You turn your attention to your daughters. You don’t even know what to say to them. You simply shake your head in disappointment.
You’re about to turn on your heel and walk away from them, back to your date, but you don’t want to walk away too fast. You look back at your ex-husband and put out your hand. “You’re paying for dinner, give me a card.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He sighs, pulling out his wallet to do just as you say.
“You three are in so much trouble,” you warn them before walking away, going back to your date.
You want to pretend like nothing has happened, but that’s impossible with your ex-husband and your daughters right around the corner.
“You three are–” You raise your voice as you enter your home, only to be promptly shushed by your ex-husband. He sits on your couch, looking through photo albums that you have of the girls. You click your tongue as you walk over to him. “How did you even get in here?”
He holds up your spare key. “Under the welcome mat? I thought I taught you better.”
“Why is your car in my driveway?” You cross your arms, staring down the man that makes himself a little too comfortable in your home. He doesn’t even look up at you.
“Wanted to make sure you got home safe. That guy looked funny.”
“You’re an asshole.” You roll your eyes, plopping down on the space next to him. You let out an exasperated sigh before asking, “So what? Are you spending the night here too?”
“You have a guest room,” he answers, fighting back a smirk because he knows that’s not where he’s sleeping tonight. “How was it? Considering you’re alone–”
“I don’t fuck on the first date,” you claim, making him scoff.
“You sure? That’s how we ended up with the first one,” he responds, making you hit his arm. It’s not a lie, but he isn’t supposed to mention it so casually.
“I’m not like that anymore and–” you sigh. “He’s an asshole. Certainly wasn’t too impressed when I told him my ex-husband and kids were spying on me.”
“We weren’t spying on you, we just happened to go to the same restaurant,” he argues, an excuse that even the most gullible person wouldn’t buy.
“You live forty minutes to an hour away from that place, Leon,” you reply, and he simply hums in response. He can make up any lie he wants, and he knows you won’t buy it. It’s not worth wasting his breath.
“Oh look, here’s the picture of Diana holding Anastasia for the first time,” he says, pointing at the picture that feels like eons ago. Your heart melts and you get pouty as you see your babies. “We make the cutest babies.”
“Don’t try to switch the subject.” You frown when you notice what he’s trying to do. For a moment he succeeded, but Leon should know better. You won’t let a grudge go easily.
“Can’t I make a simple observation?” He laughs, closing the photo album and putting it down on the coffee table. Frankly, the pages that were coming up were just of the girls fighting which is an act he gets to see every time he’s in their presence. Nothing special.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” You click your tongue before another sight leaves your lips. The night has been rough.
“How was your date though? Did you enjoy yourself?” Leon asks, noticing just how annoyed you look. He could’ve told you at first glance that the date wouldn’t have ended well, the guy looked like a total douchebag. Although that’s what Leon thinks of every person that’s within your proximity.
The last thing you want is to talk to your ex-husband about the date that he attempted to spy on. You don’t really want to share any of the grimy details with him, but you have no one else to talk to. And you need to complain. “I’m never talking to a man again.”
“That bad?” he replies and you hum in response. “I could gather he was an asshole the moment I saw him.”
“You made the situation worse,” you point out, and he frowns. Before he can even begin to defend himself, you say, “Having to explain what you did to him was awkward.”
“I would’ve laughed,” he argues, and you scoff. It’s easy to paint yourself as a saint when you’re not in that situation.
“You would’ve been pissed,” you say, and he doesn’t dare contradict you.
You take off your heels, slowly settling into the home. You’re sinking into the couch, though you can’t get too comfortable with the dress you have on. It fits you perfectly but it’s hard to breathe in when you sit down.
“You need help with the dress? It looks uncomfortable,” he offers, and you shake your head. You’re quite sure you can reach to your back and take it off– You don’t need his help for anything. “Suit yourself.”
“The food was awful too,” you share, and he chuckles.
“Tell me about it,” he hums.
“Go run me a bath,” you order, deciding that if he wants to make himself comfortable in your home, he might as well be useful. He stands up, following your orders blindly. A subtle smile appears on your face, and you can’t help but feel slightly happy at the fact that he’s here to do whatever you wish after your date.
You stand up and walk to the kitchen to get yourself a treat while you wait for your bath. Your eyes are searching the fridge for something that your daughters haven’t already devoured, when buzzing from the couch catches your attention. Your ears perk up, and you close the fridge. Your sweet tooth dies down for a moment, curiosity getting the best of you.
You quickly realize it’s nothing, it’s simply Leon’s phone on your couch– Who’s calling him at this hour?
“Leon, your phone–” You raise your voice just enough to say that you’ve made the attempt, but not loud enough for him to actually hear. You look down at the phone, and shrug. “Since he’s not here to pick up the phone.”
You grab the phone, and furrow your brows at the contact name… Why is a woman calling him? Your breath gets caught up in your chest and you stare at the phone completely dumbfounded. For a moment your thumb acts on its own, and you’re so dangerously close to swiping right and picking up the phone. But luckily, his voice snaps you out of the trance you find yourself in.
“Hey, your bath is ready will you–”
You throw the phone back on the couch and you run as if you were attempting to escape something. Leon is walking out of the bathroom but you drag his hand and bring him back inside. His body doesn’t even attempt to fight back, blindly trusting you.
“What’s up with you?” he asks, looking at the mirror and noticing the smirk on your face. You smirk but there’s a certain spark in your eyes. You look furious, as if he had done something– Other than crashing your date with your daughters.
“Will you help me take off my dress, Leon? It’s really hard to reach back there.” You put on that sickening sweet voice which you always use to get something you want. He almost laughs, unsure of why you use it because he knows that what you want is something he’s willing to offer with no complaints.
“Of course, sweetheart,” he answers, hands going to your back and dragging down the zipper of your dress. His cheeks burn when he sees the cute little set that you’ve decided to wear tonight– You were definitely planning on getting lucky tonight, it’s such a shame that your date turned out to be an asshole. Shame for the other dude, Leon is licking his lips and enjoying the view.
“Your eyes are going to pop out of your head,” you comment as you finish taking off the dress, throwing it on top of the sink. You turn to face him, getting a good look at him. “Have you gone on any dates, Leon?”
“Why do you ask?” he asks, not able to look past your chest. It’s the worst time to have a serious conversation. He gulps when he notices reach behind your back to undo your bra.
“No reason.” You shake your head. He watches you unclasp your bra, his breath hitching as he waits in anticipation.
“You know I can help you–” he offers when you take off your bra. All the blood rushes to his dick and it takes everything in him to remain composed. His eyes are glued to your breasts as if it was his first time seeing them.
When he steps toward you, you put your hand on his chest and stop him in his tracks.
“Who’s Ada?” you ask, and he frowns.
“Nobody,” he claims. You smile at him before pushing him away.
“Turn around and go to bed then,” you answer.
“Babe you know–” he begins but you don’t give him a chance to sweet talk himself into joining your bath.
“Bed. Now,” you cut him off.
“Yes, ma’am.” He relinquishes, courtly nodding before turning around and leaving you to bathe alone. Perhaps next time he should plan past the crashing your date part of the night, but in his books this is a partial win.
MDNI. You hadn’t seen Leon in years, until you get a call from an unknown number. He was your childhood best friend, your first time, your first love. He was back in your hometown once and for all to see you.
tags: fem reader, re4r! leon, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, rough p in v, unprotected, leon is kinda an asshole, + more!
Leon was your first for a lot of things. Your first kiss, your first time, your first love. You knew it was naïve to think that way. Stupid to be sentimental over someone you hadn’t seen in years. Seven to be exact. You’d stay up at night, staring at the ceiling fan and wondering if he ever thought of you. If he missed you like you missed him. It all came back to you, the day you answered a call from an unknown number.
You figured it would be a spam call, almost hanging up when you didn’t recognize the voice on the other end of the line. He spoke your name, said it like he’d known you for years. Because he had. “Who is this?” You recalled asking, phone perched up to your ear as you raked through your memory. It wasn’t any voice you knew. Until you heard the name. Slightly slurred, Leon. Leon Kennedy.
“I don’t know if you remember me. This was stupid,” You heard him grumble over the phone, his voice deeper than you remembered. It had been seven years, and you held your breath—wanted to pinch yourself. It couldn’t be real, couldn’t be the same man you’d been hung up on for all these years. You heard your name again, questioning if you were still there.
“Y-Yeah. I’m here.” You spoke in a flat tone, trying to hide the tremor. Sick, you felt sick. You had to sit down when he kept speaking. “I was in town for … work. Our hometown. I bet you’re off in some big city now, aren’t you? I expected that of you. Always knew you’d get somewhere.”
You didn’t know how to respond to that. You never left your hometown, never chased your big dreams. Never became anyone. You didn’t say that, instead you laughed it off. “I’m still here, actually. Decided to stick with what I know. My roots. Our roots, I guess.” You cursed yourself after saying that. Who talks like that? He was making you nervous like he did all those years ago. You heard the sound of clinking on the other line, you assumed he must’ve been drinking. “I can’t believe you remembered my number.” You broke the silence, sounding awkward. Leon laughed on the other end, something breathy. “Can’t believe you never changed it.”
You huffed. Same old same old. If only things had stayed that way. “Yeah well, I guess some things never change.” You mused, closing your eyes. You still saw him at 21 in your head. Fresh faced and sweet. Giving you a hug and a kiss goodbye, swearing he’d write. He’d call, he’d visit. But he never did.
He cleared his throat, it made you hold your breath again. “Since you’re in town, I was wondering if you wanted to .. grab some drinks. Coffee, maybe dinner. I don’t know if there’s any good bars around these days.” He sounded reminiscent, he knew every inch of your hometown. Knew every inch of you. It had you holding onto nothing, wishful thinking. Getting your hopes up a tumble of words that sounded far too excited. “Yes, Yeah, I’m free this weekend.”
“This weekend.” He repeated. You hummed, bringing your thumbnail up to your lips. You chewed on it as he spoke, an old habit you’d dropped years ago.
“How about that old coffee shop you worked at? Is that still around?”
“No, Yeah..It’s still around.” You remembered it plain as day. “Alright. I’ll give you a call when I’m free.”
The line went dead, and that was it. You set your phone down with shaking hands, hardly believing it was true. The days leading up to the weekend went by slowly, painfully slow. Until it finally came. You tried on numerous outfits, wiped your makeup off and reapplied it. You were a nervous wreck, terrified to see Leon’s face again. You checked your phone one last time, a short confirmation text from him. Deep down you felt like it was a bad idea, anxiety knotting up in your stomach with each step toward your car.
It was a quick drive, you declined Leon’s offer to pick you up. You couldn’t stand the thought of being in the car with him after so long. Was it because it would be too awkward? Too intimate? You weren’t sure, pushing the thought down once you pulled up to the cafe. You took a deep breath, in and out. It was just Leon. The same Leon you knew all those years ago. You tried to calm your nerves when stepping out the car, walking up to the front door and swinging it open with faux confidence. You scanned the cafe, not seeing his face. Maybe you wouldn’t recognize him. Maybe he wouldn’t recognized you. You stood there for a moment, getting lost in your thoughts before the same voice you heard on the phone caught your attention.
You turned around, bumping into something firm. “Easy there.” You were pulled back by the elbows, looking up at someone you recognized. The same moles, same blue eyes. Same boyband haircut. “Leon?” You managed to stammer, your breathing picking up. You tried to keep it together, tried not to puke on him from anxiety. He must’ve noticed. “You look the same.” He smiled, “I was worried you wouldn’t recognize me.” You replied without thinking. You hardly recognized him. This man was a far cry from the rookie you knew. Your Leon was long gone. Yet apart of you held onto the man you remembered all those years ago.
“Sure I did. You haven’t changed.” He patted your shoulder. So nonchalant, acting like he never left. “I ordered your usual. If you still like that shit you call coffee.” He teased, slipping past you to grab the cups off the counter. “You remembered that.” You didn’t say it like a question, more a statement. “How could I forget? Your milk and sugar with two shots of espresso.” He picked up your cup and handed it to you.
Leon was always one to pick on you. In a way, he was like a brother you never had. In this case, the lover you never kept around. You took it from his hands, brushing his fingers with yours. A part of you wanted to throw it in his face. Burn that handsome face, punish him for leaving you. But as you stared back at him, you couldn’t bring yourself to do a thing.
“It’s too crowded in here.” He took your hand, just like old times, and led you out the cafe. The air was humid, hot for spring. Your fingers intertwined, slipping away to the benches behind the busy patrons. “It looks the same as I remember.” Leon spoke up, looking around the area. A grassy spot, a couple worn benches. You couldn’t believe how .. chill he was being about all this. “Yeah. It’s still the same old boring town as before. Before you left.” You sat on one of the benches, unable to look him in the eye. You heard him sigh, felt his warmth when he sat beside you. “Look..” He paused, staring down at the coffee in his hand. It wasn’t going to be easy to explain it to you. You followed his eyes, staring at his feet—his knees, until you got to his chest. He’d buffed up since you last saw him.
You remembered Leon being fit back then. But nothing like the man sitting beside you. You remembered his bare chest pressed to yours in moments of intimacy. His mouth on yours, his voice saying he loved you. It wasn’t the same voice you heard now, not at all. “Look at me.” His voice was deeper now, it almost startled you when he was a bit stern. You obliged, lifting your head. Your eyes met his, and for a fleeting moment you saw your Leon. The one that held you close, the one that still loved you. Maybe he did, maybe he missed you like you missed him.
“It’s .. complicated. Alright?” He hoped you’d be content with that. “Complicated?” You repeated, and he nodded. “A lot happened. Too much shit went down, but I’m still here.” He said it like it made up for everything. “You weren’t here. You never called, you never wrote me like you promised.” You felt tears well in your eyes. “I thought you died. I searched obituaries for your name after I heard about what happened in Raccoon City.”
You saw his expression change at that sentence, like he wanted to stop you from going on—but he didn’t. “I thought you .. I didn’t think you were still around.” You looked down at your cup, the coffee going cold. “Can’t you tell me what happened? Why didn’t you call? Why didn’t you reach out? Why now?” You bombarded him with questions he couldn’t answer. At least, not the answers you wanted.
“Stop,” He cut you off. “Don’t get yourself all worked up.” He set his cup down and placed his hands on your shoulders, forcing you to face him. “I wanted to. I need you to understand that. To know that I wanted to reach out. I couldn’t, It just ..” He let out a defeated sigh. “You don’t understand. I can’t get into it.” He rubbed your shoulders, sliding his hands down to your elbows. He touched you like he had the right, like he had never left in the first place. You seethed, goosebumps prickling on your skin at his touch. “Leon,” You choked out his name, wanting to shove him off. Curse him out. “I hated you for the time you were gone.” You admitted, watching his expression soften. His brows once knitted together relaxed, more of a confused look.
“More than hate. I missed you. I loved you. But you know that. I’ve never met another man like you. Nobody could compare to you. To what we had.” Your voice cracked, looking away from him. “It’s pathetic of me, I know.” You closed your eyes, the embarrassment washing over you. Humiliation, shame, you couldn’t pin point which emotion you felt. Leon said your name oh-so softly, his hands squeezing your shoulders. It was like he wanted to pull you in, but stayed stiff. Guarded, he had walls up. Keeping even you at arms length.
“I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you.” He rubbed his thumbs over your skin, voice low. You opened your eyes, looking at his face. Empathy was written all over it. You felt all that hatred fade away into dread. He was hurt just as much as you were. “I can’t make it up to you, not in a way that matters.” He acknowledged the truth, moving in closer. “But let me try. Let me do my damn best to make it up to you the only way I know how.” His breath was warm on your lips, sliding one hand to your cheek.
“Cmon.” Leon tilted your chin up, trying to lighten the mood. “Come home with me. We can catch up just like old times.” Home as in the remodeled hotel he was staying at. Your childhood bedroom was home, but you’d take what you could get. “Like old times..” You repeated with a smile. Wishful thinking on your part, playing along like it was fine. “We did a lot of things back then, Leon. You’ll have to be more specific.” You teased, placing your hand over his on your cheek. That made him laugh, pulling you up off the bench.
“We were just kids back then.” He spoke of seven years like it was a lifetime. It certainly felt that way. “I didn’t know it would .. end up like this.” He dropped his hands from your face with a deep breath.
“Me neither.” Is all you could think of to say. What else? You didn’t have anything left in you to say to him. You stared back at Leon, his face tilted to the ground, not exactly looking at you. When he did, it was more like he was looking past you. Or right through you. “Let’s not mope around any longer.” With that, he gave a half-hearted smile and showed you the way to his hotel.
The drive was quiet and full of tension. You felt your stomach ache when he placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. It would’ve been under any other circumstance. Excitement, you missed the way his hands felt on your skin. Leon didn’t look like himself anymore. Not how you remembered, at least. It was weird, being in the car with this stranger. You arrived, watching him get out the drivers side and circle around to you. He opened your door, still the image of chivalry. “Thanks.” You mumbled, taking his hand as you stepped out. His hands were tougher now—calloused and stronger. It made you feel warm inside, the sheer strength he held. God, you felt like a pervert. If that made you pervert, it meant Leon was just as bad.
It happened in a blur, a hazy memory as he was tugging you inside. The same seedy motel you’d stayed at with him years ago. It was renovated, much nicer than you remembered. He fumbled with the key, pushing the door open and pulling you inside. “Fuck, I missed you.” You were pushed against the door as it shut, one of his biceps next to your head. “You did?” You questioned, pathetic as you looked up at him. Searching for the confirmation that he had pined after you the same way.
“Yeah. You .. have changed since the last time I saw you.” His hands were on your hips, mapping out your body. You leaned into it, relaxing under his touch. Just like old times. You’d filled out since he last saw you, and he certainly had.
“You too. I don’t remember these,” You gripped at one of his biceps, getting an amused huff out of him. “I’m guessing you like it.” He smirked, a rare sight now. “I do.” You admitted, feeling a bit shy. You weren’t sure why, it was Leon. Your childhood best friend, the first guy to give you your first taste of love. Only to rip it away. You didn’t to think of that part, not as he was leading you to his bedroom. It wasn’t anything like the one you grew up in, no more juvenile decor or hoping to God your mom wouldn’t walk in. It was minimalistic almost. The moment your back hit the mattress, you forgot all about the hurt he’d inflicted.
“You even smell the same,” He leaned down, lips brushing your skin as he mouthed at your throat. “I wonder if you taste the same too.” It was a half-assed joke, he smiled when he said it. Despite him poking fun, you felt a rush of excitement. It reminded you of the good days once more—yet the body pinning yours down was much heavier than before. Much more strong and muscular, not your Leon at all. You wondered if they’d completely replaced him with someone new, but it was in the eyes. The way he looked at you, touched you. That’s what grounded you, reminded you that it was real.
You closed your eyes as soon as he was tugging your jeans off, casual. You didn’t want him to think it was a date, bold of you to assume you’d end up in this position. “Just as beautiful as I remember.” He spoke up, trailing his fingers between your inner thighs. You shivered, pliant beneath him as you let him spread you open. “Maybe more.” He added, running his hands up your hips. You felt a bit sick, opening your eyes to look at him. You feared this would be your last memory of Leon. A favorable one though. The sight of him between your thighs, blue eyes all over you.
“I remember the first time we did this.” You spoke up, breath hitching as he played with the waistband of your panties.
“Do you? God, that was years ago. You even cried.” He teased, sliding his hand into your bottoms. “Not anymore though. I doubt you’ll cry this time.” His words made you uneasy, but the feeling of his fingers sliding between your slick folds made up for it. You remembered the first time as well—Tears running down your face as he fucked you like the addled teenager he was. You’d grown up a lot since then. When you closed your eyes, you’d imagine 1998. The baby faced Leon teasing you with clumsy fingers, he was steadier now. He didn’t thumb your clit too fast and eager like, he was slow .. savoring it.
You whined, bucking your hips against his hand. “Leon, fuck.” You opened your eyes, glancing at his busy fingers. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” He slid his fingers out your panties, tugging them down your ass with his free hand. “Just like old times.” He bunched your panties up and left them to the foot of bed, spreading your thighs open. “Yeah,” You stammered out, struggling to remember to breathe as he sat back on his haunches. It was just like old times, except it couldn’t have been any different. The similarities were there. The same moles on his skin, same eyes that met yours with an intensity that made you look away. You took a deep breath, gathering courage to glance at him.
Perverted, you felt that way—watching as he unbuckled his belt with one hand, the other stationed on your thigh. Your eyes focused on his thighs as they were exposed, much more toned. Fuck, you wanted to be smothered between them. In a swift motion, he tugged his jeans down to free the very cock you’d dreamed about. Thick and leaking at the tip, you watched in awe as he gave it a few strokes. You remembered what he felt like inside of you—what his cum tasted like.
Leaning over your body, Leon guided the head of his cock to nudge between your folds. Precum smeared over your clit, pulsing under the sensation. “I missed this,” He grunted, dragging it down to your entrance. “Me too.” You said breathlessly, trembling as he pulled you closer by the hips. You’d spend nights with your hand in your panties, wishing your fingers were his. Wishing it was his cock filling you up. You didn’t have to imagine anymore. “You don’t have to be nervous.” He ran his hands down to your thighs, hiking them up on either side of his hips. “It’s just me.” He gave a smile, trying to reassure you like used to. The worst part is that it worked.
“I’m not nervous, Leon.” You lied, staring down at his stiff length prodding at your pussy. “I believe you. She’s ready for me,” He teased, feeling how wet you’d gotten. You weren’t embarrassed, the opposite. You wanted him to know how badly you needed this, needed him.
You’d slept with other men after Leon left. Even if you did close your eyes and imagine it was him instead. “Please,” You stared up at him, leaving your arms placed above your head. Submissive, just like he used to be. “Using your manners.” He held your hip, eyes hidden by dirty blonde hair as he began to push forward.
You kept your eyes open, not wanting to miss a single moment of it. The way he fit inside so perfectly, pushing half-way in and pulling half-way out again. “Shit,” He bit his lip, and glanced up at your face. “You’re tighter than I remember.” Then back to your cunt, he pulled you against him with a rough thrust. “Leon,” You mewled, clawing at the sheets by your head. He gripped your hips, no doubt leaving bruises in the shapes of his fingers. Rougher, you had underestimated his strength. He jerked his hips forwards, your thighs squeezing his hips as he stretched you out. Stuffed you full.
“You can take it, just like you used to.” He leaned over you, pressing a sloppy kiss to your mouth. He moaned into it, humping into you with vigor. You felt him throb inside, no doubt getting close, just as you were.
You squirmed, feeling his fingers slip between your bodies to find your clit. “Cum on my cock. I know you can do it.” Leon mumbled against your lips, stroking your bud with each roll of his hips. You hooked your arms around the back of his neck, something to hold onto as he fucked you. It wasn’t making love as he’d once call it at 21.
“Leon, tell me you love me.” You whimpered, your release coming fast. He groaned at your words, pulling away from your lips. “I love you. Fuck, I love you, so much.” He spoke brokenly, voice low and raw. You weren’t sure if it meant it, but it was enough to send you over the edge. Your pleasure was overwhelming, nails digging into his shoulders as you drenched his cock. “That’s a good girl,” He praised, snapping his hips against yours again and again. “Shit, shit—‘m close.” He moaned something that reminded you of his old self, whiny and desperate. “I’m on the pill,” You weren’t, but you’d do anything to feel him fill you up again. The risk was prominent, stupid at best. Yet the thought of carrying his baby wasn’t so terrible. If it meant having apart of him with you even when he wasn’t there.
“Good.” Leon held you tight, his thrusts growing sloppier, harder. It bordered on violent, but you took it as a sign he missed you that much. “I think you deserve it, after missing out on this.” He said with a rough grind of his hips, his fat cock throbbing inside. “Uh huh,” You panted. “Taking it just like you used to.” He kissed at your throat, breath hot and leaving spit on your skin. That wasn’t entirely true, he didn’t used to fuck you like this. Not how you remembered, at least.
A slew of curses and your name fell from his lips, kisses from your jaw to your mouth as he reached his peak. Wrong, it was wrong to lie to him, but it felt too good to pass up. He moaned into your mouth, stuffing you full of his warm and sticky spend. He was panting, rolling off of you in a casual way. His dick slipped out, leaving a mixture of both your bodies to smear across your thighs. “Better than I remembered.” He spoke, looking up at the ceiling. You wanted him to look at you. To tell you what a good job you did, how pretty you still were .. but he didn’t.
“Was it?” You rolled onto your side, trailing your fingers up his forearm to his bicep. He finally looked at you, the same baby blues as before. “Yeah. Those were some good times.” He reached over and pulled you close, cradling the back of your head just like he used to. You held onto false hope, imagining a life with Leon. You knew better than to think that way, but in his arms, it was hard not to.
“What about now?” You dared to ask. You felt him stiffen, but he stroked your hair soothingly. “Don’t worry about it.” He spoke softly, casually like nothing had even happened. “I’ll call you when I’m back in town.” He kissed the top of your head, embracing you in a way that made you believe his words. The night went by as if he never left. He drove you back home, albeit awkward as you stood at your front door.
You stared up at Leon, your arms crossed and cheeks flushed. You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to kiss him, tell him you loved him, but you couldn’t get yourself to move.
You held your breath when he brushed your hair out your face, smoothing down to your shoulders, reminded you of your father. “Take care of yourself, yeah?” He smiled, so reassuring. You’d scold yourself for believing him. “I will.” You said it as he turned to leave, leaving you on your doorstep. “You too!” You called out, watching him turn back to wave goodbye. You leaned against the stair railing, eyes on his form as he left. The last glance he spared you made your stomach ache. It was almost as if he knew it was the last time. As his car left the driveway, you stared at the empty spot. You wished he’d turn back around and take you with him. Forget whatever mysterious job he had and come to you. But he never did.
You spent the next month checking your missed calls, waiting by the phone. If Leon said he was going to call, of course he would. Or so you thought. The call never came, as you shut your phone off. If he ever loved you, he was better off keeping it to himself.
Summary: Being the only female rookie at the DSO, you're used to being belittled by your fellow agents. Thought to be invisible to your superior Mr. Kennedy, you would have never thought he'd come to safe you as your first mission goes terribly wrong.
Warnings/notes: Horror, blood and gore, violence, gun mention, angst, appearance of Chris Redfield, protective Leon, age difference, older!Leon, very slow burn, author's first language isn't English
Clouds fill the sky. Putting a dark shadow on the world, while the sun desperately tries to get through the thick cover. It’s faint light cascading on the run-down buildings, streets and everything that once was. The air is cold against your skin. The fresh autumnal morning air doing nothing to prevent the light blush that starts to form on your cheeks once you get out of the car. The cold nips at the top of your fingers, making you curl them into the palm of your hands. Even though it was only the start of October, it wouldn’t take long before winter would sweep the land into its stone-cold grasp. For that reason alone you slightly dread the days in the field that would soon, hopefully, follow. Never really liking the cold, you aimed for a warmer climate. That would be possible of course if your life had been different.
You stand in line with three other agents next to you. Men. Taller and broader than you, but not necessarily better. You’re all clad in a tight marine blue shirt, sleeves rolled up and a small zipper at the neckline. Due to the weather, yours is all the way up, concealing your chest. A pair of black combat trousers hug your thighs while boots in the same color are on your feet, making you stand firm and secure.
The harness around your chest carries the essentials. Handgun at your right side, shotgun and sniper rifle secure on your back. Two hand grenades hanging on your left just in case. The weight of a knife rests against your lower back. The blade is sharp, a machete, ready to chop a zombie's head off if necessary.
The men next to you wear similar assemblies. To your right there’s Jonathan. A twenty-five year old, six ft tall blond with an ego flying through the roof. Shotgun and sniper also on his back but instead of a knife, he carries a large stone hammer. The tip sharpened, making it easier to break one's skull. He has been in this program for just as long as you have, starting three months ago.
The two men on your left, who you can’t even bother to remember the names of, have the same confidence as Jonathan. A smirk on their faces, like this first field job is going to be a piece of cake. They look slightly younger, twenty-two maybe twenty-three? You’re not sure. A few men in the other group that would come after you were twenty-six and twenty-seven. At the ‘ripe’ age of twenty-nine you’re the oldest one out of the rookies.
Standing before you are two more seasoned men. One incredibly broad, hair a dark brown almost grey at the sides, going by the name of Chris Redfield. At almost 6’1”his stance is wide, arms crossed, making his presence well known. He’s looking at us like any other teacher would. His brown eyes looking over his so called “students” with a straight face, while thinking to himself: “What the hell do these rookies think they’re doing here?”.
Next to him, slightly more behind, is his comrade. His hair, a dark blond streaked with a few grey strands signaling his age. Blue eyes focusing on the hand gun in his palm while putting in new ammo, not giving us as much attention. By 5’11” Leon S. Kennedy was not as broad as Mr. Redfield, but compared to him, he was definitely muscular as well. Biceps protruding and forearms showing off the few veins that peak from under his shirt.
The two of them had a well-known reputation. Both fought against any monstrosity the Umbrella corporation had thrown at them. Trying to protect the world from all evil.
They had trained you. Three months inside the DSO facility. Learning the basics from knowing how to reload a gun, to shooting one with perfect aim. Physical and emotional training, needed to defeat all enemies you would come across. Three months and eight trainees. All inexperienced rookies who wished to be full DSO agents, ready to kick some ass. Seven men and one woman. You.
Of course, being the only woman, which is very unseen in this line of work, you were often laughed at. Thought to be useless, weak and incompetent to get the job done. Well, we’ll see about that.
You’re quiet. Slowly analyzing the situation you’re in. Today is your first ever mission. As a trial of course. Three months of training had to lead somewhere. They had divided the group into two. The first group, with you in it, was brought to the outskirts of Raccoon city, driven in a van by Kennedy, Redfield in the passenger seat. The chanter in the car from your three other colleagues had been loud while you kept mostly to yourself. As you arrived at the scene, which seemed to be an open square with buildings surrounding you, you quickly got out of the car before anyone else. Already opening the trunk to get all your gear.
And that’s where we are now.
“Alright listen up.” You hear Chris say, making your ears perk up. “Your mission today will be simple, which is to retrieve some important information back from the old Umbrella labs that are situated below ground. You will be divided into two teams and each will be given a map. Your task is to bring the piece of information back to me. If you fail, you will be taken out of the program and you can pack your bags. Are we clear?”
You hear Jonathan next to you scoff, a silent “as if” slipping from his lips. Ever since the beginning of your training he has made it clear that he was the one who would be the next super-agent at the DSO. You already know now that a simple training, to retrieve information out of a lab, isn’t spectacular enough for him.
Chris’s eyes look us all up and down again before settling on you and Jonathan for a few seconds, then back to the two guys on your left. “Liam and Jason…” So those are their names. “… the two of you will be under my supervision.” Chris announces while walking over to them, handing them a phone with a map on it. “Leon, you take him and the girl” he continues, gesturing over to you. The girl…
“You need to take this mission seriously guys. This may look easy but you never know what could be lurking in this city. Especially underground. This is a necessary part of your training. Don’t take this lightly. You know what happens when you fail.” And with that he gestures to Liam and Jason to follow him, leaving you and Jonathan alone with Leon.
Leon's cold stare lingers on the both of you, sizing you up, almost like he is determining if the two of you are even worth his time. His gun is brought back into its holster, hanging at his right hip, before taking a phone out of his pocket similar to the one Chris gave to his own two rookies. “Take this.” He murmurs while outstretching his arm, waiting for one of you to take it.
Before you even get the chance to put a step forward, Jonathan beats you to it. Grabbing the phone out of Leon's grasp, he immediately starts to inspect the screen. Hastily looking over the map without including you. After a few seconds and a small huff from you, he looks up, eyes directed at Leon. “Is this a competition between the two teams? To see who finds the piece of information first?” The corners of his mouth slowly turn upwards. “Because I’ll beat them to it.”
The smirk that covers his face is so arrogant that you almost want to punch him in the face. You’re sure you could win a 1v1 fight against him.
“It is not a competition in any way. You look for the piece of information that we want, you get it and get back out of there unscratched, together with your partner, is that clear?” Leon isn’t amused by Jonathan's confidence either. When he averts his gaze back to you, you can see the slight frown on his face soften just a smidge.
“Now…” he says, focused on you while pointing to your ear “… The little earpieces you have in do not only allow us to communicate with each other if necessary, but I will also be able to see your vitals while I keep an eye out for you during the mission.”
“Wait, you’re not coming with us?” Jonathan speaks, a slight tremor in his voice if you hear correctly. Maybe even a little nervous? Anyway, it’s not enough to push him off the throne of pride in his head.
Leon looks back at him. “Who am I? Your babysitter? I’m not gonna hold your hand every time you have a mission. I think you’re old enough. You do know this is what you trained for right?”
You have to do your best to not let out the laugh that’s trying to burst out of your mouth. Your lips turning into a small smile instead that you desperately try to cover with your hand.
You’ve always liked Leon, ever since the moment you met him back at DSO. Back when you were truly ‘a rookie’, having very little experience on the subject of being a special agent. Back then he had only greeted you with a firm handshake and a curt nod, murmuring a quick ‘nice to meet you’ as he quickly went on to greet the next rookie in line. But the way he carried himself and the way he was respectful towards others... Trying to help people when and wherever he could? It made you have a certain form of respect for the man.
It was also not difficult to notice that he’s very easy on the eye. The strong build, the sharp jawline, the stubble covering it… After three months of seeing him almost everyday, you'd grown a little crush for him. All innocent of course, because you knew very well the two of you could never be together. What would a successful and good looking DSO agent see in a twenty years younger and inexperienced ‘girl’? So you kept your silly feelings at bay, knowing it wasn’t worth the energy.
All of that put aside now, you are a bit apprehensive about what Leon had just said to Jonathan… You have to admit, you’re a bit nervous being out there in the field with no experienced agent by your side if things were to go to shit. But you’re strong mentally, a good fighter and you’re brave. You can do this.
Jonathan, who of course isn’t impressed by Leon’s words, shoots right back. “And how do we…” he says, mockingly correcting what Leon had warned him about while pointing from himself to you “... know what we’re looking for? How are we supposed to know what kind of special information you guys need us to get?”
“You got a map. Use it.”
Jonathan steps forward. “That’s ridiculous. For all I know we could be out here until nightfall looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“Or until next week. That’s completely up to you.” Leon smirks, clearly having fun riling up the twenty-four year younger ‘boy’.
“You're insane, old man.” Jonathan spits back.
You can see Leon’s eyebrow raise at those words. Seeming to unlock something within him and break through his usual more calm facade. Something that you’ve seen maybe once or twice during your training. Something that was a little bit more dominating… His jaw is clenched, teeth grinding before, in his turn, taking a step forward. Looking your colleague dead in the eye, smirk removed from his face with now a stern glare replacing it.
“Watch it kid. I suggest you temper that tone of yours.” Another step closer. Not raising his voice, but keeping it cold and stern. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I don’t give a fuck if you drop out right now. What I do need to know though, is when you wish to go through with this, you will not fuck around. You will both protect each other while completing the mission. If your lives are at stake, you will do everything you can to get the two of you out of there. If you say yes to that, I, your superior, demand respect from you. Is that clear? You must learn your fucking. place. rookie.”
It went quiet next to you. No more words coming from Jonathan’s mouth.
When you turn to get a better look at him, you swear you see the dilemma in his eyes. Not knowing whether to punch Leon in the face or to restrain himself and go for the more civil option.
Eventually he casts his gaze downwards, realizing he couldn’t keep going like that if he wanted to reach his goal at the DSO.
“Fine.”
Leon recognises the submission and decides to drop the subject. Point taken.
He takes a step back, arms crossed. "Alright, I suggest the two of you start off immediately. The day is short and you’ve got quite a lot of ground to cover. Use the time that you have.” Then before turning his back, his gaze lingers on you one more time. The look in his eyes sincere. “Take care.”
And with that, you and Jonathan are left to fend for yourselves in the harsh reality that is Raccoon city. It is so that even one hour later, you’re still trying to work out the map. That is, if Jonathan would give you a chance to look it over.
You’ve had enough. You were constantly running in circles, covering the same places over and over again, which did nothing to ease your frustration with the man walking a few feet in front of you. It almost felt like the walls started to close in on you. So you decided to speak up. Thinking you’ve been patient enough.
“You have no idea where we’re going, do you?”
He stops abruptly, making you almost walk straight into him. He turns his neck so fast, you’re almost certain he has broken it. “Excuse me?”
You can see he’s trying to stay calm even though a fire is starting to ignite in his green eyes.
“You heard me. I don’t think you have even the slightest idea about where we are.”
A scoff falls from his lips, in deep contrast to the droplet of sweat coming down the side of his face. A sign of insecurity? Guess you’re right after all. “Oh please, I have the map. I know exactly what I’m doing.” His arrogance shining through, even though you can see his facade slowly starting to break. So you continue.
“Jonathan, this is the second time we are going through this alley. There’s two possibilities. Either you don’t know where we’re going, or you love the scenery here so much you just had to see everything twice, some streets even thrice. And don’t tell me it’s the latter. I think it’s about time we switch things up and you give me a go at the map.”
“Oh please…” he replies, now fully facing you, trying to solve the matter in his favor. “You’re a girl. How could you be of any help right now? Do you even know how to read a map?”
What is it with toxic men and their twisted ego’s? Their dying need to make women feel inferior? Never wanting to admit or even think about the idea that a woman could be right for once? Could be better?
That’s the second time today you want to punch him in the face.
You step forward, pushing yourself up so you’re standing on the tips of your feet. Your hot breath hitting his face, mere inches from yours. “Watch a girl save your stupid ass.”
You snatch the phone out of his hand before he even has a chance to register what has happened. Pushing past him, you try to ignore the protests coming out of his mouth. Your fingers flying over the screen of the phone, finally getting a good look at the map.
You’re not too far off from the way you need to go. The so-called entrance to the Umbrella labs underground being only a fifteen minute walk from here. How the hell did he miss that?
“Give me the phone back.” Jonathan grumbles, his arm reaching around you. You’re faster though, already taking a few steps forward, making your way out of the alley and onto the main street, moving in the right direction.
“Just save your breath pretty boy. We’ll be there in no time.” You smile, picking up pace. You hear him right behind you, sighing like a toddler who hasn’t been given his way.
After ten minutes or so, you reach a more secluded area of the city. The buildings looking even more run-down than before. The air suddenly so dense and foggy, you’re sure the entrance should be right around the corner. And you’re right. When you continue, you see multiple Umbrella posters plastered onto nearby fences, the red and white logo clearly recognisable. You grin, looking down at the map again, seeing that the entrance should be right ahead.
“You know, I’m not one to apologize easily but… Seems like you were right after all.”
You almost choke on your own spit at hearing the words Jonathan says from behind you. “Excuse me?” You stop, turning around to face him.
“Yeah, I just…” He starts, stopping next to you “... guess I was kind of dick to you before? You got us right where we needed to go.”
You blink, not fully knowing how to react for a couple seconds. Does the all so mighty Jonathan actually want to apologize to you? Ever since you started training together 3 months ago he wouldn’t even spare you a second glance. And now he’s trying to be nice?
“Uh... Yeah, whatever. Let’s keep going.” you reply, starting to feel a little awkward.
You turn your back to him again, your steps firm as you continue your search. You hear hurried footsteps behind you, Jonathan now making his way right beside you.
“So I’ve been thinking…” Oh boy, he’s been thinking? What an achievement. “... You and I? We would be a great team together don’t you think?”
You turn your head, making eye contact with him before quickly averting your gaze once you see the tiny smirk plastered on his face. You don’t like where his insinuation is going.
“Uh, maybe? I don’t know. What’s your point?”
His smirk grows wider at that. His steps curving slightly to the left, making his way closer to you. “Oh I’ve seen you, you know. Back at the DSO facility. You’re always by yourself, not making a fuss, doing exactly what dear Redfield and Kennedy ask of us. You’re always at the top of the class, doing your training like a good girl. You’re a natural. I figured, when this mission is over, you’d maybe want to consider becoming partners.”
You find his words creepy at the very least. And do you believe him? Has he actually been watching you these past 3 months? Or is this just his way of saving his ass so you won’t complain about him when you get back?
“How could you be of any help to me? You couldn’t even read the map.” You scoff.
You can feel his hand brushing against your underarm slightly. He’s so close now you can feel his hot breath hitting the side of your face. “I didn’t mean it in an agent kind of way, love.”
You stop again abruptly, looking at him like he’d just grown an extra head. “Excuse me?”
He’s laughing now, a disgusting rasp in his throat. “Oh come on, don’t play dumb. We’ve been at the DSO for three months now and you're the only female agent in training. You don’t mean to tell me no one else has ever made an offer like this to you?”
“What the hell are you implying?”
“I could show you a good time, you know? Have you take the edge off for once. I must say that I know my way around the female body very well, so you’d be in for a treat. I could please you just right. You won’t regret it. I can promise you that.”
Not only is he trying to get on your good side to profit from it at the DSO, but he’s also trying to get in your pants. You just shake your head. Sadly this hadn’t been the first time a man had spoken to you like that.
“You’re a pig.” You turn around, ignoring the excuses and promises pouring out of his mouth. You have better things to do than reprimanding a child.
What the two of you don’t know, is that a few streets back, Leon is following you. Not just following and checking your vitals, but also hearing every word that’s being said between you and Jonathan. A little detail the DSO keeps hidden, to see how rookies will react in these kinds of missions, not holding anything back while their superiors listen. And right now? Leon is very happy he’s able to do so.
He finds Jonathan to be an inexperienced low life who thinks he’s got it all figured out. The way he talks to you makes his blood boil. Not necessarily because it’s you, but just of the way he speaks to a woman. Like you’re just a vessel for his pleasure.
He chuckles when you dismiss him so easily, not paying him much mind. He likes your spirit. You always thought he didn’t pay you much thought during training, but you were wrong. He knew who you were. Who didn’t to be honest? The only female field agent at the DSO. Doing your best at every training. Hitting your marks every time there was a shooting test. Often even better than the other male rookies.
So yes, you had definitely triggered his interest.
As you make your way through all the abandoned and burned down cars, you can see a large hole in the ground just a few feet up ahead. Bingo.
You reach it. A black hole, approximately six by six feet big, making its way down through the concrete. No sounds come from it, but the smell is undeniable. Rotting flesh.
Ok. You prepare yourself for a few zombies down there. It should be doable with your training and all the weapons you have on you, you tell yourself. Luckily you’re not alone.
You take a flare that’s attached to your belt before igniting it and letting it fall into the darkness. It falls down a few seconds, hitting a few metal objects in its way, before settling at the bottom. You can see a steep wall of concrete going down, followed by a half destroyed ladder that reaches the bottom. You don’t see or hear any infected. For all you know, there could be a rotting corpse down there. You’re not going to wait to find out.
“Let’s go.” you say before squatting, moving one leg into the hole.
“Oh how how wait! You wanna go in there?” Jonathan grabs your shoulder. When you look back at him you can see the uncertainty in his expression. Gone is all the fun and excitement from before, replacing it with a certain form of fear.
“And what else do you suggest?” you question him.
He starts looking around all of sudden. “Well… Maybe there’s another entrance. One that’s more safe than this one.”
“Nothing about our job is safe Jonathan. Look around you. Do you see another way in? ‘Cause I sure as hell don’t. The map led us to this place right here.”
He doesn’t reply after that, just keeps looking at you with the same uncertainty as before.
“You coming or not?”
His only reply is a curt nod, making you doubt if he actually means it or not. He squats next to you, letting go of your shoulder. You take that as your cue to keep going. You descend gently and slowly, one foot in front of the other down the steep concrete wall. Into the lion's den as they say.
You try to make as little noise as possible, making your way down the ladder. Once you have reached the bottom, you take your flashlight so you can check your surroundings better.
The room you’re in is small, also six by six feet. A long dark tunnel is connected to it. You can’t see anything more than a few feet ahead of you, the flare and flashlight only illuminating a small amount of the place. You see water further ahead, making the tunnel appear to be some kind of sewer, which explains the smell as well.
Jonathan reaches the bottom next to you, frantically looking around, hand covering his nose. “What the fuck is this…”
You pick your gun from its holster, aiming it in front of you while also pointing your flashlight. You gesture for him to follow you. “Come on.”
You step into the tunnel. The water around your feet making your steps more heavy, while also producing a little too much sound for your liking. Behind you, you hear Jonathan pick up the flare. You turn around.
“Leave it so we can still see the entrance. Use your flashlight.”
He looks down again, a little frustrated with himself. “I didn’t bring one.”
You blink. “You didn’t bring one? Seriously?" A tiny shake of his head signaling no was your response. Jesus… Try going to war with someone like him.
“How could you possibly-. You know what? Forget it. Let’s go.” You wish this day would be over very soon.
The two of you continue through the tunnel, you at the front, him checking for any threats coming from behind, his gun now also drawn. The tunnel seems to bring you further down, a slight steep to your feet. It goes on for about two hundred feet until it separates into two new tunnels. One going left and one going right. You stop, trying to decide where to go from here. Jonathan bumps into you, not realising you had stopped. A whispered ‘sorry’ before an ‘oh fuck’ fell from his lips once he sees the split-up.
“What do we do now? What does the map say?” He asks, looking at you.
You take the phone again, your flashlight resting between your cheek and shoulder as you hold it in place. You see the thick yellow line bending to the right, signaling your way forward. As you put the device away again, you hear a low rumbling noise coming from the left. It’s far away though, a gurgling moaning sound that gets swallowed by the dark. You don’t have to ponder very long to realise what it is. You point your flashlight to the left, squinting your eyes, but you can't see anything.
“Thank God we don’t have to go in that direction.” You whisper while hearing Jonathan quietly agree behind you. You take that as your queue to continue your way right.
After about fifteen minutes of following tunnels, coming onto new split-ups, going left and right, you have reached the end of the tunnel. A short type of stairs going up with a metal door at the end of it. That must be where the lab is.
You grin in victory, ready to be done with this mission. You turn towards Jonathan, who’s inspecting the door with a certain nervousness. “You go up there and try unhinging the door. Look for any threats inside. I’ll cover you.” You tell him. He looks at you now, lips parted, clearly not wanting to but not deciding if he should fight you on it or not.
Eventually he nods, taking a few steps forward before going up the stairs, it steps creaking underneath his weight. You turn around, your gun pulled, ammo checked and flashlight up. You’re ready if anything dares to come closer.
Jonathan reaches the door behind you. His shuffling and pacing before the small window making you curious to see what’s inside.
“You see anything?” You whisper, before he turns around to look at you.
“No, it seems clear. It’s locked from inside though.” Another pause. “Let me get this door open.” He murmurs as he uses his elbow to break the glass. When that’s done, he puts his arm through it and reaches for the lock on the other side.
The twist of a lock is heard before the metal door screeches open. No sounds come from ahead of you, so you take a few steps back, gun still at the ready if necessary. You go up the stairs, turning around so you wouldn’t trip. Once you’re standing next to Jonathan at the top, you’re able to look into the room as well.
The room contains several desks decorated with various kinds of test tubes. The contents unknown to you as a result of it not being your field of work. Paper documents are scattered on the floor with a few lab coats and plastic gloves here and there. At least you’re sure now that you’re in the right place. At the end of the room, you can see an ever bigger desk with a large computer on it, its screen almost measuring six by three feet.
You’re the first to take some careful steps into the room, checking left and right for anything that might be out of the ordinary. Something that might look like the important piece of information the DSO needs. The air is cooler, more sterile than in the tunnels, but the awful stench remains.
Leon follows everything on the small iPad in his hand, staying a few blocks away from the entrance. This is a job meant for the two of you, as training. He can not interfere.
He can see you have reached the lab, your heartbeat quicker than normal as he checks your vitals. He listens to your steady breathing when you enter the room with your partner right behind you. Jonathan’s heartbeat however goes sky high, his breathing way more rapid than yours. Leon chuckles at the difference between you. The boy still has a lot more to learn. Compared to him you’re a natural. When a man and a woman go into the field together, you’d normally expect it to be the other way around.
Back down, you can’t find anything lying around. So you decide to start with the computer. The piece of information has to be connected to it somehow. Looking down at the keyboard, you type incoherent words trying to get the computer to work since you don’t see an on-switch anywhere.
You don’t have to try very long, the computer turning on at the first key you press. It’s not locked? How weird…
You take the mouse in your hand and go straight for the saved documents, searching for anything that might be valuable. And thank God you’re lucky. Various files were saved, starting from different kinds of chemicals to files about the test subjects they tried it out on. One particular folder takes your interest ‘The Connections Corporation’. You click it open.
Everything is in there. Their IP-adres, the people who carried out their work, reports from several top secret meetings… Guess you hit the jackpot.
You know what you have to do. Bending down, you look underneath the desk searching for the actual computer instead of looking at the monitor. When you find the black object, you take out your machete as you try to get the lid off. When you do, you look for the computer chip, carefully detaching it from the rest so you can take it with you.
You get back from under the desk. Your flashlight producing enough light so you can see it was still in good condition. As you go to put it in your pocket, Jonathan, who has been quiet all this time, steps up, snatching the computer chip out of your hand before putting it in his own pocket.
“I’ll keep this safe, thank you very much.” he cockily sneers.
Fed up with his childish behavior, you turn around, ready to give him a piece of mind. Who does think he is, letting you do all the work and then showing off after?
What you see next however makes your blood run cold and your breath hitch, quickly swallowing the words you were going to say before shouting something else. “Get down!”
He listens immediately, hearing the urgency in your voice. His body goes down by a fraction of a second before you raise your gun and shoot the zombie behind him right between its eyes, its body falling limp on the ground.
Leon’s ears perk up as he hears the gunshot through the little earpieces, his eyes now focused on the screen of his iPad more than ever, his body on high alert. You’re not supposed to run into any infected. He and Chris had scouted the perimeter before dropping you guys here. It’s supposed to be safe. He can see the two dots on the screen signaling where you and Jonathan are standing, but there’s no sign of a third person on the screen.
You’re shaking, your breathing now rapid as you stare at the lifeless body on the ground before you. The first zombie you have ever seen and also your first kill. You take a few steps closer to inspect it more carefully.
It’s the body of what once was a man, aged somewhere in his forties. It looks gaunt, caused by the lack of nutrition down here, its cheekbones pressing through its skin. Soulless, white eyes stare back at you, the skin between them torn by the shape of your bullet. Its jaw is what freaks you out the most, for it’s barely even there anymore. Half of it is still hanging from the upper part while the rest has been broken and torn off, smearing blood all over the neck, as the tongue hangs limply. That thing had been close enough to Jonathan to push him against the ground and kill him. How had he not heard something? How had you not heard something? If you hadn’t turned around…
The creature wears a labcoat, torn to pieces together with its shirt and trousers underneath. As you look better at the clothing, you start to realise one thing. Whatever kind of infected this thing was… It was already in this room before you first entered.
“I… I thought you said this room was clear?” You manage to get the first words out of your mouth when turning to Jonathan. He hasn’t gotten up, still bending forward as you see him trying to wrap his head around what’d just happened.
His lack of response angers you, so you take a step in his direction, now standing right before him as you make eye contact. “You hear me?” Now slightly raising your voice, still trying to be as quiet as possible. “Hey! Talk to me. You said this room was clear!”
His lips tremble when he speaks. “I… I did… It-it must’ve sneaked up on us back in the tunnels.”
“Bullshit.” You spit back. “I checked our backs right until we walked into this room and not once did I see or hear an infected. Look at his labcoat you fucking moron. He was in this room all this time!”
“I’m sorry. I tried- I really…”
“You could have gotten us both killed.” You silence him as you aim your flashlight around the room, going through it a bit more thoroughly, checking behind and underneath all the desks to make sure that one infected was the only one.
When you finish your round, you step back towards Jonathan. “Look… Accidents happen. Just… Don’t let this happen again alright?” You try to sooth him while stretching out your hand, helping him stand up again. Once he’s standing you check your ammo, ready to make your way back out. The sooner the better.
You only make it a few steps back towards the door, before you feel Jonathan grab your hand, stopping you. “That thing…” A tremor in his voice as he whispers “... It was so fucking close. If-if you hadn’t shot it down, I might have…” He can’t bring it in himself to finish that sentence. “Thank you. I’m so sorry I let you down”
You gave him a soft smile. "Whatever. Let’s just go. I think we’ve both had enough of this place.”
As he agrees, you both make your way out of the lab and down the stairs again, starting back through the almost endless looking network of tunnels.
Leon had moved considerably closer by now, being in the same street as the entrance you went through. There’s still no sign of any infected on his screen, so you both have to make it back without any problems.
You go in front of Jonathan as per usual, the water quietly sloshing around you, aiming your gun and flashlight straight ahead. To your relief, you don’t run into any more filthy bioweapons from Umbrella. Which is a godsend really.
Your optimism is short-lived though. WIth only a few more corners to pass, you suddenly stop as you see a figure standing about fifty feet ahead.
Another infected stands right in the middle of the narrow tunnel, its back to you. Your previous gunshot must have alerted it. You curse under your breath, quickly putting your fist up as a silent motion for Jonathan to stop as well. You look at him, quickly bringing your index finger towards your lips as a sign for him to be quiet. He was already distracted though, eyes fixed on the thing that’s ahead of us.
You see him slowly reach for the gun that is hanging from his right hip. As you’re trying to be as quiet as possible, a gun isn’t the best option here. This has to be done as quietly as possible, to not attract any attention.
You quickly grab his arm to make him look at you, head turning as you make eye contact. You shake your head ‘no’, pushing his gun away, before taking your machete where it’s held at your lower back. You point towards his stone hammer, gesturing for him to do the same.
Leon is getting more and more worried now. Why have the two of you stopped again? There’s nothing showing on his screen, nothing that should be in your way. The way back to the exit should be clear.
You sign to Jonathan to stay put and for him to help you when things go wrong. A basic form of military sign language was part of your training back at the DSO.
As Jonathan nods, you take a deep breath before looking back at the creature before you. Thankfully it hasn’t noticed you yet. As you gather all your courage, you grip your machete tighter as you make your way towards it.
It doesn’t make any sounds. It isn’t even moving, standing in the middle of the tunnel like a statue. The light of your flashlight and Jonathan's flare, not alarming it. Just like the one you’d killed back at the lab. Your heart almost pounding out of your chest as you near it, praying to every god above this would go well.
With only a few feet away, you can feel its rotting flesh starting to infiltrate your senses, almost wanting to gag at the repulsive smell. You take the last bits of distance in a hurry, raising your arm before sweeping it down with as much force you could manage. The blade makes contact with its neck, your cut clean, as in one full motion you’re able to cut its head off. The head falling to the side before the body tumbles into the water, the sound of the splash being something you could have avoided. Fuck.
As on cue, you hear a few gurgling moans coming from somewhere in front of you. You take some steps forward, seeing three infected coming from a nearby tunnel on the right that’s connected to yours.
They’re different from the ones you’d seen before, more active and way louder. They seem way more aware of their surroundings too, your flashlight doing nothing to hide yourself as their heads all turn towards you, gaze feral, screeching, raising their arms while making their way to you. Shit.
This hasn’t gone unnoticed by Jonathan either of course. His breathing uncontrollable as he shakes in his boots. “Fuck…” Clearly for him there’s no point in being quiet anymore “…fuck …we’re gonna die. We’re gonna fucking die!”
“No we’re not. Jonathan, man the fuck up. There’s three of them and there’s two of us, we can take them.” Why is it always you that has to encourage him?
The three infected have reached you within seconds, jaws snapping, out-stretched hands trying to get a hold of you. You dodge them and swing your foot into the chest of the first infected on your right, your strength enough to push him down, arms swaying. You don’t waste any time. Standing over it you lift your machete before swinging it down with all your might, planting the knife right into its skull, body going limp.
The reeking hot breath of the second infected tingles your neck. Before it has a chance you’re spinning on your heels, water splashing, as you swing your knife again, the blade finding home into its neck. Not enough to kill it but plenty to imbalance him. As blood seeps from the wound, you pull back your machete, foot kicking its chest so it goes down. You plan to do the same thing you did to the one before. Standing over it you raise your weapon again.
All of a sudden you feel an immense impact on your back, causing you to drop your flashlight and machete, your body being pushed harshly against the stone wall. You’re quick enough to turn around to prevent the flying hands from scratching you, instead grabbing the wrists and trying to pin them down. The third zombie that cages you in is enormous, towering over you by 6.6 feet, dwarfing you completely. Its broad chest and strong arms preventing you from getting away, its power momentarily too strong for your smaller frame. You grunt as you try to push it off, looking past it to see where Jonathan is.
He hasn’t moved yet, still standing a few feet back with his mouth agape, clearly in shock.
“Jonathan, don't just stand there! Help me out!” You shout, making him snap out of it.
He looks at you, then back at the infected on the ground, which is still moving, towards the infected that has you pinned against the wall. He’s shaking like a leaf.
That seems to knock him out of his stupor. Sadly, not in the way you had hoped. Instead of picking up his gun and shooting the brute that holds you hostage, he passes you, almost jumping over the half dead infected lying on the ground. He looks at you almost in shame. “I-I’m sorry.” Are his last words before bolting, leaving you to die and taking the flare with him.
Leon is sprinting towards the entrance, throwing all protocol aside. Technically, he isn’t supposed to help, but fuck that.
Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach.
No, no, oh god no… The dread that fills you is almost enough to pull you down and lose the battle you’re having against the infected. But that can not happen. As long as you’re breathing you won’t go down without a fight. It’s just branded into you like that.
Think. Come on, think!
There isn’t anything around that can help you. You can’t reach for one of your guns either or you risk getting bitten. You have to use your body, your own strength, to get out of here somehow.
When an idea strikes your mind, you do a quick mental prayer, literally jumping into action, all in the matter of two seconds. Pushing your whole body up, using the wall behind you as leverage, you kick the infected right in its chest with both of your feet. The action causes it to take a few steps back, releasing you, giving you a second to recompose yourself. In the little time that you have, you reach for the shotgun hanging from your back, swinging it to your front so you can hold it better with two hands. A simple pistol shot isn’t gonna do the job you reckon.
You raise it, just in time, before the infected reaches for you again, its mouth open as it brings out a gurgling scream. You lift the shotgun right under its chin as you pull the trigger, not knowing what kind of damage it will cause.
The shot is loud. Its recoil pushes you back as you feel the pressure down to your core. The zombie’s face is blown off, blood and flesh splattering on the wall behind it, leaving only partial pieces of the head still standing. You almost gag as the body tips over, water splashing, mixing with blood as it makes contact with the ground. Pieces of brain and bone now scattered around it.
As you pant, you realize that the last infected, the one Jonathan had jumped over, was still alive. As you turn you see its body still wriggling in the water, face down. You pick up your machete again and make quick work of it. Pushing your foot down on its back you raise your weapon and bring it down with full force towards the wound you’d previously made. Flesh tearing and bone cracking as you end its life, fully decapitating it.
Meanwhile Leon has now reached the entrance to the tunnels, a weak Jonathan climbing out like the devil himself is after him. His gaze lifting as he hears the sound of running footsteps. “Mr. Kennedy…?”
Leon forcefully pushes him out of the way without a second glance, jumping straight into the darkness below, heart pounding and gun drawn, moving as fast as he could.
He almost flinches when the unmistakable sound of a gunshot reaches his ears, the loud noise reverberating through the tunnels. Dread filling his heart as he quickens his pace even more. He takes a detour to the right, knowing the tunnels better than anyone as he had gone through them countless times before on previous missions. He realizes you’re not too far away from the entrance. He just hopes he makes it in time before you get hurt.
You stand up straight again, legs slightly wobbly from the exertion you had to go through while also a bit shaken up. You had never seen an infected before and now you had killed 4 of them in the span of 30 minutes. All in your first ever mission as well. Would have been easier if your partner hadn’t left you behind though…
You would show him what you were made of once you got out of here. He would have to run if he wanted to avoid you killing him. That alone was a wonderful motivation for you to move forward.
Being under the assumption it’s finally over, you place your machete back on the straps at your back, before going to retrieve the flashlight lying on the ground a few feet ahead of you.
The splashing of water, moaning combined with screeching fills the air once more, making you stop dead in your tracks. Your eyes widen, not believing the things you’re hearing. You thought that had been it. That you’d get to walk out of here now unscratched. Oh boy were you wrong.
Five new infected turn around the same corner the previous three had come from, all equally disgusting and horrifying in their own way.
You abort mission, leaving your flashlight for what it is. It will only draw more attention. You duck into the nearest alcove on your left, knees touching the wet ground as you kneel down, sogging the material of your trousers. At least you think it’s an alcove... You don’t have time to check, as the infected are now standing in the middle of the tunnel. Your flashlight making sure you can still see their silhouettes in the dark.
You’re lucky enough to survive the attack of three infected all by yourself, but taking on five at the same time is impossible. You can take three of them, but not five… Not five.
There’s no way around them either. They’re blocking your path towards the exit completely. Keeping you hostage. Panic seeps through you again like a cold blanket. You have to think of an escape plan, and fast. The infected won’t be standing there forever. Hunting you down being their number one objective, to go after the noise they heard. They will follow the tunnel farther down in your direction and if one of them dares to look you way, you’re done for.
As you carefully peek around the corner you can see them already stumbling your way. You look behind you, pitch blackness greeting you like a meager solution. The alcove seems to be a narrow hallway of sorts, leading you to god knows where. You don’t have your flashlight on you either. You won’t be able to see a thing. Who knows what you might run into? And fighting something when you can’t see, is like walking up to the gallows. You have to get your flashlight back but that will risk you being seen.
You take another look around the corner. Luckily, they haven’t moved any closer. You figure that trying to fight the infected is your best shot at the moment. To get your flashlight quickly and use the dark hallway behind you as a plan B.
You reload your pistol and shotgun, getting yourself ready for what might be your last few minutes of being alive. Shotgun slung over your shoulder, pistol gripped tight in your right hand, you close your eyes, taking a few deep breaths.
You will try to get your flashlight first. After that your main goal is to hit as many headshots as possible. And if that goes wrong? You’re bolting.
A gloved hand suddenly covers your mouth, preventing the faint scream from escaping your lungs. At the same time a strong arm wraps around you, pulling you against a hard chest, preventing you from moving any further. Your gun falls to the ground, making too much noise for your liking.
Using your body you push back against the hard surface behind you, wriggling your arms as you try to get free. Your head is pushed back, hitting someone’s shoulder. As you try to look up, a familiar face comes into view, blue eyes meeting yours.
Leon releases your face, bringing his index finger towards his mouth, signaling for you to remain quiet. You quickly nod, a little perplexed as you realize he’s here. His grip around you making sure that you’re not just imagining things.
Moving around, he removes the arm that is slung around you and puts you behind him. As he slowly turns the corner he’s able to get a better look, seeing all the bloodshed you had caused, the infected slowly making its way towards you. He moves back, gesturing for you to come closer to him with his hand on your back so you’re squatting next to each other.
He communicates through sign language. Telling you to stay calm and to follow his lead, that everything is going to be alright. You believe him. With two agents against five infected the job will be more doable. When all of this is over, you have to think of a way to repay him. Repay him well.
Moving his hands he tells you his idea. The plan is to be stealthy and make as little of a mess as possible. Being the older and more experienced agent, he will move first with you right behind him. His axe and your machete at the ready. Before you turn the corner, he will throw a rock over the infected and into the other direction, trying to get their attention away from you. Then the two of you will move closer, each trying to take out one infected separately, two if you’re lucky. The rest will probably have to be done with a gun.
You sign back to the narrow tunnel behind you, to the way he came from. Wondering if that isn’t a better option than the danger that lies before you. Leon shakes his head as he brings up all ten fingers before pointing behind him. Your eyes widen, shock clearly visible on your face. Your hands start to tremble. There are ten more back there? Did he sneak past all of them? The thought makes you shiver.
Leon sees the worry in your expression. Quickly putting his hand on top of yours. He makes sure your eyes are back on him. Clear blue staring back at you, he whispers the words ‘we’re going to be ok’. The warmth of his voice feels like a warm blanket around you, emitting a protective and secure feeling. His hand touching yours, sending goosebumps up your whole body.
All of a sudden you realize how close the two of you are actually sitting. Your knees barely touching, his hot breath slightly caressing your face. For the fraction of a second, you allow yourself to admire him. The few strands of hair slightly covering his eyes. The few wrinkles there, around his nose and on his forehead, signaling his experience in life. The light stubble with a few grey strands going through it, down towards his neck. Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. Down to the broad and muscular pectorals. His arms are a piece of art on its own, the muscles under his shirt bulging as he’s preparing for the fight that’s about to come. He is… beautiful. You feel safe with him even though the situation isn’t very bright looking.
To not let him notice you staring, you quickly take your hand away from under his grasp, signing back that you agree with his plan. You put your gun back into its holster and reach once again for your machete, keeping it ready. Leon does the same, his axe now gripped tightly in his hand, the blade still shining in the faint light that is given. You look at him and curtly nod, signaling that you are ready.
He picks up a nearby rock that lies neglected in the water, putting it ready at his feet. Raising three fingers between you, he looks into your eyes, signaling he’s about to count down. Another nod from you is the last assurance he needs.
One. Two. Three.
The rock goes flying. Straight over the heads of the infected, colliding to the tunnel wall with a sharp loud thud. As on cue the five heads turn in the direction of the sound, giving you and Leon exactly the opening you need.
Leon moves first, stalking the first infected on the left. You’re right behind him, your eyes on the one next to it. The two of you move as quietly through the water as possible. The wrinkles betraying your position, thankfully not too obvious for the infected to notice. You try to be efficient, knowing you’re only given a handful of seconds before their attention will fall back to you.
Leon doesn’t turn to look back, feeling your presence now next to him.
Like the two of you had practiced it a million times before, you both jump at the exact same time. Both of your weapons hitting its mark as you attack from behind.
The two creatures don’t stand a chance. Both being beheaded at the same time. The sound of body parts falling brings the others out of their stupor, all of them turning to inspect what happened.
They don’t get much time to act. The one closest to you is forcefully pushed back against the wall as you kick it in its chest. Leon racing past you to take care of the other two.
The one you had pushed against the wall, recovers quickly. Its arms sway as it tries to hurt you with strong perseverance. You swing your machete, the tip aiming down as you impale it right in the chest. A sound something between a gasp and screech falls from its lips as you pull the blade back out. Aiming it, you swing again. This time chopping both of its arms off. You finish with something that’s starting to become your signature move. Blade slicing through its throat, vertebrae and neck. The head rolls into the water as the body slumps down against the wall.
Panting, you turn around, your gaze searching for Leon. He had downed the fourth infected. Now standing over it, foot placed on its chest, he gives the final blow. His axe planting itself into the skull, blood splattering everywhere as pieces of brain fall onto the ground.
Behind him you see the fifth infected taking advantage of Leon being distracted. Its mouth hanging open, blood already seeping out of it, as it starts for him, reaching for his neck. Leon being completely oblivious.
You don’t have time to scream or shout his name. You raise your machete instead before aiming. With a groan you throw it. The blade swinging through the air before sheeting itself into the neck of your target. The strength of your blow causes the infected to fall to the side. Wriggling in the water with a strangled groan leaving its bloodied mouth.
You reach it in no time. Taking your blade out of its neck before lifting your foot. Bringing it down with full force you break the skull, crushing the bone. Its brain is a mash up underneath your boot as you hear the bone crunch. You quickly pick up the flashlight as you look around. Feeling the adrenaline coursing through your body, awaiting a new threat.
As your eyes fall upon Leon, you see him already looking at you, panting as well and eyes wide. A faint look of disbelief on his face, like he almost couldn’t understand how you’d killed the infected before he did.
“You… uh… Well done.” He nodded, casting his eyes to the ground. He takes his own flashlight out of his pocket before lighting it. Inhaling sharply through his nose, he takes a few steps forward, now standing directly next to you. He checks the way ahead before clearing his throat. “We need to get out of here.”
As on cue you hear an immense blast coming down the way you came from. The tunnels shake as dust and a few rocks come down from the ceiling. The two of you both bending over, Leon’s arm slightly hovering over you as a form of protection.
“What the…” you hear him whisper.
“Mr. Kennedy, what was that?”
The next thing you know, multiple screeches and moans fill the area again. The sound coming exactly from where the huge blast had come from. Not just the screeching of four or five infected. No… There are more. Way more. It almost seems as if the blast from before had opened up a gate of some sorts. The gates of hell, freeing its most horrendous kind of demons.
As you hear the thunder of footsteps and snarling getting closer, you realize this is not something the two of you can fight off on your own. Not even with all the guns you have on you. Leon seems to be sharing the same thought, quickly grabbing your arm and turning you around. “Run to the exit, now!”
You don’t have to be told twice. Aiming your flashlight to prevent yourself from falling down, you sprint through the tunnels. Leon right behind you. Occasionally looking behind him as he draws his gun. You do the same as you do not know what kind of surprises might still lie ahead.
The snarls get louder behind you, signaling the infected’s proximity. They are faster than you, you realize. Way faster, even though they don’t see a thing in the dark. Must be some weird type of mutation Umbrella cooked up in one of their labs.
As you round the final corner, you finally get to see the light of day. Literally. The hole in the concrete that you came through, being about two hundred feet up ahead. You run towards it as fast as you can. But sprinting slightly uphill with water to slow you down isn’t very ideal. Both Leon and you are having a hard time getting up.
You’re halfway when you look behind you. Seeing at least 6 infected rounding the corner you just passed yourself, with more to follow. You’re not as brave now as you were before, fear seeping into your bones again. Fear of not making it in time and having to die out here. “They’re getting closer!”
Leon ceases his sprinting and turns around. “Go! I’m right behind you!”
The first shot of his pistol rings through your ears as it hits its target. The one infected running at the front falling down, the rest crawling over its body like madmen. More shots follow as you hear Leon take out one after the other.
You look back down once you reach the top and see Leon still shooting as fast as he can. As the infected get concerningly closer. You take out your sniper rifle, aiming down and looking through the scope. “Mr. Kennedy c’mon, I’ll cover you!”
You wait as you analyze your targets. Waiting for the perfect shot as you don’t have as much ammo on you as you actually need for the rifle. You grin as three infected align perfectly. The red dot of your scope marking the first one's head. The other two running behind it. You take the shot. Your bullet bursting through their brains in one fluid motion, downing them in a mere second. Because of the silencer, your first shot is almost inaudible. But it does not go unnoticed by Leon as you hear him curse under his breath before turning.
As he’s sprinting up towards you, you do everything in your power to make sure he gets up safe. Only needing a handful of seconds to down the first litter. Sniping is something you’ve excelled at ever since you started at the DSO. Being often told your sniper skills are better than anyone else's, you take immense pride in the skill.
Well your training is definitely paying off now.
Leon reaches the top incredibly fast. Grabbing your hand he pushes you towards the ladder. “Hurry...”
You swing your rifle onto your back before grabbing the metals bars and climbing up. You hear Leon fire a few more shots before following suit. Reaching the top, you lean against the steep concrete wall, regaining your balance before bending down. Your hand reaches for Leon’s as you try to help him up. His warm firm grasp embraces yours. With one strong tug you pull him up.
Something counters your strength, Leon groaning as he’s being pulled down again. A loud curse escapes him. One of the infected has managed to gain up on him and grasp onto his lower leg. As it grabs him with both of its claws and tries to climb up, you know he’ll get bitten if you don’t act quickly. Freeing your pistol from its holster, you aim right between its dead eyes. Not hesitating as you pull the trigger. The blow causes the creature to fall back down, taking two others with him who were also trying to get up the ladder.
With Leon now free, you continue pulling him back up. As he gets up next to you on the concrete wall, you grasp for your shotgun again, aiming towards the next filthy infected that’s right behind him. You pull the trigger. The immense blast making it tumble back down in several pieces.
You hear Leon shout next to you. “There’s too many. Run!”
Climbing up the steep wall, you hear the sharp clinging of metal next to you. You look back at Leon. The metal pin of the grenade he’s holding, being the source of the noise. You see him pull out the pin before throwing it carelessly behind him. He pushes you forward. “Go! Shit’s about to blow!”
With a last look behind him, he throws the grenade back at the infected, before taking a final sprint. You see it land right at the bottom of the hole, at least twenty zombies now filling the area that you came from while some were climbing the ladder again. Leon wraps his arm around your middle and pushes you out of the tunnel as fast as he can.
Finally reaching the top, the two of you climb out, leaving the evil darkness behind. Now running on the street you only manage a few more steps before your body is catapulted. As the bomb goes off behind you, you hear the deafening sound of rubble coming down. Shaking the asphalt below your feet. You fall on your front. Your arms wrap around your head to prevent yourself from getting hurt. Leon falls on top of you. His body now involuntarily protecting yours from any flying debris.
After a few seconds the rumbling and screeching from the infected quiets down. You feel the pressure of Leon’s body slightly crushing you. The smell of sweat and dirt mixed with the smell of freshly washed linen fill your senses like a warm blanket that’s being wrapped around you. Oddly enough, you don’t mind his crushing weight.
A few more moments pass before you feel him shift above you. Slowly lifting himself up as a groan falls from his lips. One hand positioned at your waist as the other holds himself up. You dare look up yourself.
Smoke fills the air, providing an even more thick and impenetrable fog than there already was. Pieces of rubble and dirt all scattered around the place. As you look back at the hole in the ground that you came through, you only see a big pile of debris left. What once was an entrance to one of the Umbrella labs had now caved in, taking the infected with it. The grenade had sealed them in like a tomb.
You feel Leon’s firm grip as he lifts you from the ground. Once back on your feet, you’re turned towards him. One hand still on your shoulder as he starts inspecting you from head to toe. Brows furrowed as he’s looking for any sign of injuries. “Are you alright?” He asks hurriedly, his gaze now coming up to meet yours. Searching your eyes to make sure you’re not hurt.
You nod, slightly nervous because of his touch. “I-I’m fine…” You say before looking at your feet. The intense eye contact a bit too demanding for you to hold. Looking back at the destroyed entrance you huff in approval. “Good thinking, throwing the grenade back there. I thought we were goners.” You joke, trying to lift up the mood. His hand leaves your shoulder as he quietly hums. Looking back at the pile of debris, a frown is edged on his face. Still cautious that anything might come through the rubble and attack you. You admire that about him, just as much as you find it very attractive.
“Mr. Kennedy…” He looks back at you. His gaze making you slightly weak in the knees. “… I- Thank you. If it weren’t for you, I would’ve never made it out of there alive.” Your words seem to soften something inside of him. The frown on his face now slowly vanishing.
“No need to thank me really.” He says, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t have had to go through that. Chris and I, we checked the perimeter for any danger before you guys even came here. If… If I had known there were so many infected, I would have never sent you down there. I’m so sorry.” You see the regret in his eyes, the immense disappointment in himself for failing you like that. As your superior it is his responsibility to look after you and keep you safe during training. To adjust your tactics and give you tips in any way he can. He couldn’t even do that.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen?”
Your eyes widen as he shakes his head no. You suddenly realize what kind of catastrophe you had just avoided. Your whole mission was to just get the computer chip back from the lab and return without scratches. No zombies blocking your path whatsoever. No wonder Jonathan ran off like a pussy.
You see Leon having difficulty with the situation he had put you in. Not daring to meet your eyes, he averts his gaze to somewhere slightly above you. His shoulders a little bit tense, as his hand goes behind his neck to awkwardly start scratching at the skin. You feel bad for him... This man, who saved you when no one else did, did not deserve to feel this distraught. According to the many stories from his past missions when he was younger, he’d already felt enough of that.
“You shouldn’t feel guilty. No one can predict something as horrifying as what has just happened.” Your words are honest and warm as you try to gain his attention.
Leon curtly nods, looking for the way ahead. “Let’s go.” He mumbles before taking a few steps through the mist, discarding your words.
Having none of it, you quickly follow his steps. Reaching out to grab his lower arm, you make him turn, forcing him to lock eyes with you before saying your next words of truth. “Mr. Kennedy… Please believe me when I say it’s fine. Really. You did everything you could. If it weren’t for you I’d be dead.”
“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be in this situation right now.” He grumbles, eyes cold.
“But I am.” You take a step closer before continuing. “And that’s not because of you, but because I chose to be here. I chose to become a DSO agent and to do this mission with you. I chose to step into that tunnel and continue the mission. If I wasn’t prepared to face any danger, I would have just dropped out of the program.”
Leon sighs before clenching his jaw, not very much convinced. “Still… I should have known.”
“But you didn’t. And that’s ok. Mistakes happen. Look, Jonathan didn’t check the lab for threats very well when we were down there and I still forgave him…”
You’re interrupted as Leon’s gaze fixates on something moving behind you. “Speaking of which…”
You turn around, a gasp escaping you. There, sitting on a withered metal bench, was none other than Jonathan. His hunched over form taking shape through the mist. He notices you at the exact same time. Eyes wide and mouth agape as he sees you’ve made it out alive with Leon standing right next to you.
You inhale sharply, eyes narrowing as you feel your head getting warm. You grind your teeth as he stands up. His lips forming a small smile, hand on his chest almost like he’s relieved. Like he forgot what he’d done to you. How he’d abandoned you. A strange feeling of rage flows through you, blood pumping through your veins as you march towards him. You roll up your sleeves before clenching your fist, holding it steady at your side. With only a few feet away, he opens his arms in mock gesture, inviting you in, believing you to be a dumb rookie agent. “Oh thank God, I was so worr-“
You don’t give him time to finish his sentence. Your fist colliding full force against his upper jaw, nose breaking as you give him the hardest punch you could muster. A cry, that sounds anything but manly, bursts from his lips. His body tumbling over as he falls to the side.
“Tell someone who actually gives a shit.” You snarl, desperately trying to stay calm before you do anything worse.
Blood seeps from his nose, his hand reaching for it as he inspects the damage. A look of dismay is thrown at you when he sees the blood coating his fingers. His eyes search for your superior. Leon, standing only a few feet behind you, who’s been watching you the whole time. He doesn’t interfere. You’ve earned it.
“Hey! You’re just letting her get away with this? You got nothing to say about that?” Jonathan says in disbelief. Voice raising as he throws the words at Leon.
You have to do your very best to hold yourself back. Your hand itching to punch him again. You hear the sturdy footsteps of Leon’s boots behind you as he comes closer. Turning your head to see him stop right next to you, you notice the tiny smirk he’s holding. His eyes turn as cold as ice before fixating on Jonathan. “You’re out.”
Jonathan scrambles to get up as his brows furrow and his mouth falls open in shock. “What?”
Leon doesn’t miss a beat to repeat himself. “You’re out. When we get back to the DSO, you take your bags and leave.”
“What? Wait! No-no-no…” He panics, hand reaching inside his pocket, taking out the computer chip he had taken from you. “... I got the computer chip. The important piece of information you guys were searching for. I completed the mission!”
Leon chuckles while shaking his head, staying very calm. He takes the chip out of Jonathan’s grasp, collecting it in his own pocket. “You didn’t do shit kid.” He takes another step closer. Looking Jonathan dead in the eye. “You abandoned your partner in a situation where she needed you most. Running off like a little bitch you left her there to die. The number one rule in a partnership is you both complete a mission and leave no one behind. She-” he says while looking at you for a split second “-has more courage and intelligence in her than you could ever fathom. If it weren’t for her you’d be fucking dead. And that’s how you repay her?”
You see Jonathan’s Adam's apple bob. Probably swallowing the last remnants of pride he has left. A look of betrayal is shot at you. “You told him?”
As much as you want to reply, Leon beats you to it. “She didn’t have to tell me anything. I heard everything that was said between the two of you.”
As both you and Jonathan stare at him with a questioning look, he raises his hand and points towards the little earpiece. You chuckle as Jonathan curses. “Son of a bitch…”
You have to refrain yourself from laughing too hard. Instead your lips part as you smirk, staring back at Jonathan with a satisfied look on your face.
Leon grabs him by the shoulder and pushes him forward. “Now get back to the dropping site and after that I don’t want to see you ever again.”
A low grumble falls from Jonathan’s lips as he starts walking, shoulders slumped, his head bent down in shame. You and Leon follow suit. Just a few feet behind him. With the adrenaline slowly wearing off and your skin still sweaty, you start getting goosebumps. Even now with the sun at its highest peak, it’s still not enough to keep you warm.
“You ok?” A little bit startled by his question, you look back at Leon, his eyes already on you.
“Yeah…” You nod quickly, not wanting him to worry. “Just a little bit cold, that's all.”
He frowns at your words, gaze dropping towards your bare arms, seeing the hairs on your skin standing up. He moves a bit more towards you as you’re walking, dropping his voice a little so only you can hear him. “Just a little longer and we’ll be back at the car in no time. You can warm yourself up there.”
He doesn’t know why he tells you that. Why he says those words of comfort or why he suddenly feels the strange need to look after you. Is it because you’re a woman? Or is there something more? Something hidden. Something buried deeper within himself that he’s desperately trying to ignore.
When he’d found you back in the tunnels, he was impressed at how well you were able to hold yourself up. At how well your resilience was in the midst of danger. The massacre you had caused all by yourself was something on the level of more experienced and seasoned agents. The way you had moved and used your machete, like you had been doing it for years. The way the faint light of your flashlight had reflected the sweat on your pale skin. How your biceps, which were considerably smaller compared to his, had moved when you parried every attack. And don’t get him started on that precision kill you did with your sniper rifle. Killing three infected with just one shot? You had outdone yourself, immensely. It had triggered his attention.
And when you got up to punch Jonathan in the face? He hadn’t moved. On the contrary, he had found it very amusing. Seeing your smaller frame march up to him like a little pitbull before breaking his nose. He even found it a bit attractive as well, though he didn’t want to admit that to himself. You were twenty years younger for goodness sake. You probably thought he was an old creep you had to train with.
Despite his worrying, he can see your eyes soften at his words. A warm smile now covering your face that manages to shake something in him. You also lower your voice. “Thank you again Mr. Kennedy. For everything, really.”
He wants nothing more than to tell you that you can just call him by his first name. To be more familiar with him. But he’s your superior… He has to stay professional. So he answers in the best way he can. “It’s nothing. I’m glad I was there.” Offering you a warm smile in return, you continue your way back to the dropping point.
He feels guilty. So immensely guilty. There’s no way to describe it. He should have known better. Should have seen the bioterrorism pop up on the scanners when he and Chris had first scouted the area. Years of being in the field, facing danger and managing to survive every single day, years of training… and he’d still failed. Had failed you. He tells himself he’s no better than Jonathan. No better than the men at the DSO who think less of you just because you’re a woman. He doesn’t deserve your kind words and compassion. If anything he should be thankful you’re still looking at him with such respect.
With you walking slightly in front of him now, he lets his eyes wander to your smaller frame. Resting on your hair, slightly dirty from all the dust and debris, neatly woven into a French braid. A couple of strands have come loose, framing your face. The color of your hair is a pretty contrast to the dark navy blue of your shirt. As he looks up, he admires your youthful face. Adorning a few little freckles, mostly around your nose, with eyes that shine bright even in the darkest of places. The pale skin of your arms and neck, decorated with a few beauty marks here and there.
The black harness holding your weaponry is tight around your chest, showing off your slim figure and small waist. He notices the zipper of your shirt had come down a bit, revealing the sheen of sweat on your chest caused by all the exertion. A single drop running down, disappearing between the swell of your breasts. He lets his gaze drop lower. To the shape of your hips. To your machete that’s carefully placed above your gorgeous behind. The knife softly swaying from side to side with each step you take.
And when the grenade went off… When he lay on top of you… When he felt your warmth pushed against his crotch…
Jesus Christ.
“What do you think of me?”
“What?” Leon says, startled by your voice. He shakes his head, almost like waking up from a dream. Eyes coming back up to meet yours with a faint blush already starting to form.
“The mission…” You say. “How did I do?” Fuck. Focus Kennedy. Get your act together.
He clears his throat, swallowing the last bit of spit, his mouth going dry. “You uh… You were great. Amazing in fact.” Is that too much for him to say as your superior? Does it sound weird? A simple ok as Chris always says to the rookies won’t do you any justice. He can tell you the truth, right?
You look at him with these big doe-like eyes, almost knocking the air straight out of him. He has to admit it to himself. You are… beautiful.
“So… I passed then?” You question him. “Oh you did more than just pass.” He chuckles, keeping the double-sided meaning of that sentence as a joke to himself.
“What do you mean?”
He sighs. How do you not realize how good you are? “Let me put it this way. Out of all the agents back at the DSO… There aren’t many with as much resilience as you, who would have faced a horde of infected alone on their first ever mission. You held your own back there. Aiding me and complementing my strategies. Following my directions, moving the way I wanted you to, like you’ve been doing it for years. You’re the perfect partner I have missed for so long. So no, you didn’t just pass. If anything I would almost say you’re a full fletched agent who doesn’t need any more training.”
You stop dead in your tracks. “What are you saying Mr. Kennedy?”
“I’m saying that as far as I’m concerned, you have passed your training. Let me have a talk with Chris. Let’s see what I can do. Maybe… I could secure you a good position at the DSO. Give you security.”
You smile at him. “Thank you sir, and I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but… I don’t think an office job is really it for me.”
He returns your smile. “No… I don’t think it is. But I didn’t mean a position at the office. Sadly enough, it is clear you were made for the field.”
It should feel weird to have someone tell you you’re good at killing. That you’re ‘made’ to fulfil missions in very dangerous circumstances. Instead, his words feel like a compliment to you. A feeling that’s so refreshing after the various laughs and sneers from your fellow male DSO colleagues.
“Thank you Mr. Kennedy. For everything. I don’t know how I can repay you.”
“You never have to.”
After a small hour of walking, the three of you make it back to the dropping point. Chris and his two rookies are already waiting.
At the sight of Jonathan’s miserable expression and bloody nose, Chris’s smirk starts to form. “Well well well… Seems like the mission was a disaster after all. Where the hell have you been Kennedy? We already finished an hour ago.”
You huff, a little irritated by his remark. If only he knew how Jonathan got that broken nose. What you have been through…
Leon walks up to him. “Shut up Chris.” His gaze flickers to Jonathan then back to you. He lets it linger there for a second. Blue eyes demanding your attention. Sending shivers down your spine. There’s a message in them. One of certainty, of protection… of dominance. He sends you a comforting smile before looking back at Chris. His voice is deep and steady as he speaks.
“We need to talk.”
Thank you for reading. <3 I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors. Please feel free to comment so I can correct them.
a/n: includes patrick verona, ledger!joker, william thatcher, skip engblom, and tony shepherd <3 + gender neutral reader!!
warnings: mentions of kissing + mild nsfw themes (18+)
Patrick Verona (10 Things I Hate About You)
If you had to narrow Patrick’s kisses down to one word it would be tender. The man kisses you with so much love and compassion that you swear all the blood in your body turns into sugar from how sweet he is. One quick peck and your entire body tingles. Tiny little fireworks exploding inside of you and rattling your bones. On the flip side, your skin bursts into flames when he presses his lips against that certain spot on your neck. He always chuckles at your tiny huff when ever he does kiss you there. You swear he’s pure magic.
Sneaky kisses are one of Pat’s top secret skills. Out and about in public with him but you’re both needy? No worries. He’ll pull you into an empty hallway or vacant room, out of sight from wandering eyes, and give you all the kisses you need right then and there.
He also enjoys giving you forehead kisses at any time of day. He’ll run his fingers through your hair and press his lips on the center of your forehead. It makes your knees weak and heart grow a million sizes. He can’t believe how lucky he is to have someone like you in his life.
Ledger!Joker (The Dark Knight)
J’s kisses are all-consuming. He surrounds your senses like a cloud of black smog hung high over Gotham’s skyline. It’s intense and sharp in a good way. Your first kiss with him isn’t exactly romantic as it was messy, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. Purple leather gloves gripping the back of your neck, stealing all the breath from your lungs. Holding onto his wool trench coat for dear life. Greasepaint staining your skin, a semi-permanent reminder that you’re his.
And of course, his scars. They’re intriguing when you see them for the first time. But when kissing him, it isn’t what you expected at all. You thought they were going to be uncomfortable and scratchy against your skin because they were jagged and healed so roughly. Oh, how you were wrong. They add a unique quality to J’s kisses. They do not hurt you in the slightest. In fact, they are very plush. It’s beautiful, something terribly tragic blooming into something passionate.
J is quite handsy with you. Of course with this comes a lot of biting and nipping at your neck. He loves leaving deep, angry bruises all over as another reminder that he’s the only one who makes you feel the ways that you do. You can never resist him and his touch. Though, you would never tell him that. He already knows it through the way you kiss him.
William Thatcher (A Knight’s Tale)
Oh my goodness, precious William. He surprises you. At first, his kisses were reserved and shy. Whispering against your lips and tentatively asking you questions: “Was that okay?” or “What else would you like?”. It’s incredibly endearing. You later learn it’s because he has not kissed many people before, which makes your stomach flutter with millions of butterflies. As strong as he may be and as much energy he gives away in different jousting arenas, he’ll always be your innocent knight in shining armor.
One thing that you come to find out about Will as your relationship progresses is that he absolutely loves hearing the noises you make when you kiss. He cannot get enough of you. To him, you’re the most powerful drug in the entire universe. Hearing you whine out his name, breathing and sighing deeply for him… It spurs him into a frenzy. You both know that those special noises are for his ears only. Simply put, his kisses make you feel completely whole.
And it’s no surprise that Will is a romantic. He brings you as his date to every ball he can physically attend. He’s so giddy and loves dancing (and drinking lots of wine & food) with you. Hand kisses are exchanged all night, of course. His soft lips pressed gently against the top of your hand which makes you (and him) turn bright red. It’s a simple gesture, but you can’t help to adore his tiny displays of affection.
Skip Engblom (Lords of Dogtown)
Oh, Skip. Skip’s kisses are pure understanding. When you kiss each other, you’re on the exact same page. Hell, you’re on the same line of the exact same book. You’re just two puzzle pieces meant to be together.
Your first kiss though, you’ll never forget. You worked night shifts here and there at the Zephyr Surf Shop for Skip. You two have known each other for years. He’s always appreciated your time and company. Giving an extra hand if he’s running behind on orders doesn’t even feel like working for him. It’s just you & an old friend who you happened to have a big crush on. It’s no big deal, right?
After finishing up late one night, Skip wanted to walk you out to your car: “Listen, Y/N, it isn’t safe in Dogtown at this time of night. Let me walk you out to your car.” You didn’t argue because you knew he was right, even if you were parked just outside the front doors. Warmth spread through your belly as he stood right beside you, protecting you the whole way.
Skip started to express his gratitude (and how guilty he felt because he wasn’t paying you) when you had cut him off: “No, no, Skip. I’ll always help out anytime, free of charge. Anything for you. I mean it.” You reached out to run your hand down his arm. His eyes flickered down as if your hand had dragged bright green paint across his exposed skin. A breath got caught in your throat and your wide eyes suddenly connect with his.
And in that moment, everything slotted into place. A million emotions were rushing in your brain as you kissed each other against the driver’s side window of your car, but the one word short-circuiting in your brain was: Home. Skip was your home.
No matter where you happen to be sleeping that night, Skip always manages to wake you up in the morning by gently pressing his lips to your neck. He watches you stir, eyes fluttering. He’s as warm as early sunshine spilling through open windows and you couldn’t ask for anything better.
Tony Shepherd (The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus)
Ever since the complete disaster Anton caused a week ago that resulted in the Parnassus trailer, aka. your home getting basically destroyed, everything has gone to shit. Well… not everything. There’s Tony. Where do you even begin with life before Tony?
You can’t really recall exactly how or when you joined the Imaginarium team, but you had proved your potential to everyone right away. You drew spectators in and let the others talents shine. It all felt so… natural. You fit in perfectly with this family of misfits.
Then comes Tony. Your whole world was turned upside down when you discovered the hanged man on the bridge. It was like a switch flipped on inside of you. Two bright lights connecting in a pitch black world.
Tony found you sitting on the stage of the trailer one night. That’s when you shared your first kiss. He knew you had been stressed about what was to come now that the only place to perform the show was shattered to bits: “Sweetheart, don’t worry I have a plan. It’s a bit of a change, but that never hurt anyone, did it?”. That’s the thing about Tony. He always seems to be five steps ahead of everyone else.
After chatting about the next course of action, you felt his hand travel from resting on your shoulder to stroking your cheek lovingly. The close heat of his hand reassuring you that it was going to be okay. That he was there for you. You felt your body being drawn in closer to his by some fateful force. His slow breath fanned against your cheek and shot sparks down your spine. His hand was still placed on your cheek, too afraid to make any sudden movements that could tear you away from him. From this moment. His lips finally connected with yours and you were breathless. All of the oxygen in the atmosphere was suddenly gone. All you felt was the warmth of him. The warmth of you two, together. Like dim streetlights reflecting on rain soaked sidewalks. It couldn’t have been more perfect.
You’ve come to learn that Tony’s mouth (and hands) tend to wander late at night. He can’t help it that your twin bed in this god forsaken trailer can’t comfortably house two full adults. You barely get enough rest as it is. So you resort to more intimate activities, hoping that sleep might come a little bit easier afterwards.
Knowing his kisses always leaves you wanting more, he happily obliges along to your all of your needs. He will always love touching you in the softest places overflowing with the deepest pleasure. Your breathy gasps as his mouth trails across your neck while his broad hands stroke your chest. Your whole body aches for him. Soon enough, his hands finally wander down, down, down…
“You know, love, we should have been doing this a lot sooner if we both couldn’t sleep.” “Oh, shut up.”
a/n: ignore the time i’m posting this :), also if this is bad it’s because i wrote it in like 20 minutes and i also haven’t written smut in like 2 years.
“we can’t” you whispered, your hand gripping his bicep as he held you against the wall in the hallway at some party.
“i know,” he said burying his head in your neck and kissing you frantically.
your mind was on cameron. your sweet boyfriend of a few months, he was so kind and he never did anything wrong. he was the perfect boyfriend, but that was the problem.
you longed for danger, something wild, something passionate, something like patrick.
“please baby”
and something made you give in. maybe it was the desperation in his voice or the plea in his eyes, or maybe it was the rough pads of his fingers tracing the fabric of your panties but you couldn’t deny him anymore.
“just this once”
you weren’t sure if you were telling that to patrick or to yourself.
his hands hooked around your waist and he pulled you away into an empty bedroom. he grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it over your head, discarding it on the ground without a care.
you fell back on the bed and his hands were immediately on your body like he was trying to memorize the feel of every inch of you. his fingers unhooked your bra and he slowly pulled the straps down your arms.
“don’t tease” you whined
“shh” he hushed you.
your breasts were bare to his eyes, and he was taking you in.
his large hands made their way from your stomach to your breasts, fingers circling your nipples.
“pat” you pleaded, the dull ache of your pussy becoming too much.
“gonna take my time” he said lowering his head to your breasts, and he flicked his tongue over your hard nipple.
“wanna make it last”
his fingers pinched your nipple and a moan fell from your lips, you looked down at his eyes and you could see the lust.
you felt his cock throbbing against your thigh and you involuntarily bucked your hips against him.
“so needy” he whispered, his lips near your ear and you shuddered feeling his warm breath on your neck as he kissed you.
his fingers slipped under your panties and started rubbing your clit.
he kissed down your stomach making his way to your lower stomach, fingers still playing with your clit, and then he stopped to roughly pull your panties off.
“i’m gonna devour you baby”
he slipped a finger inside your wet pussy and started harshly sucking on your clit.
“fuck patrick” you whined.
your fingers were tangled in his curly brown hair, while your legs rested on his shoulder and he lapped away at your pussy.
you couldn’t help but grind into his face and the feeling of him moaning into your slick folds was only driving you crazier.
he slid two more fingers into your pussy and looked up at you
“I’m always thinking about you”
your hands gripped at the sheets,
“fucking my fist every night at the thought of you”
“you don’t understand what you do to me,” he said, his voice soft as he admired your desperate state.
his other hand moved to your clit
“god i wish you didn’t have this hold on me”
“pat” you moaned.
he spedup, pounding your pussy with his fingers.
“you belong to me” he whispered.
you nodded your head fast.
“say it”
“i-” you couldn’t finish your words before letting out a loud moan, his tongue flicking over your clit in a feverish state.
he paused looking up at you and you couldn’t help but whine.
“say it and i’ll let you cum”’
you bucked your hips into his hands “i belong to you”
“say it again”
“i’m yours patrick”
his fingers went back to your clit and your legs wrapped around his head. “fuck baby” he moaned and you could feel him grinding into the mattress.
one hand moved over your mouth and the other fucked your pussy as you screamed into his hand while your orgasm took over your body.
“fuck patrick fuck” you moaned feeling your legs start to shake.
“i know baby”
when you finished cumming you felt your body slump into the sheets and patrick crawled beside you, pushing the hair out of your face.
you tried to catch your breath and he watched your chest move up and down until you’d calmed down.
“you did so good for me,” he said with a chuckle
“thank you”
he stared at you for a minute and you could tell he was thinking about something.
“i don’t just want this to be a one time thing” you said softly.
and he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you closer.
hi! if your requests are open could you do anything for patrick verona? like anything lol ill take it
So requests are actually not open right now, but given that this was sent in when they were I saved it for Kinktober. I hope you like it!
Kinktober 31st: I Knew You'd Come Around
aka hate sex with Patrick Verona
1k words
Summary: Hate sex with Patrick Verona. That's it.
Pairing: Patrick Verona x fem!reader
Warnings: Smut duh, enemies to enemies with benefits?? probably some darker themes idk, sex at a party but they're in a bedroom, little to no aftercare, vaginal fingering, light scratching, light hair pulling, patrick is a cocky little shit but what's new
~
You hated yourself for doing this, you really did. You hated the butterflies in your stomach for fluttering when he grabbed your ass, hated your hands for tugging him closer by the collar of his, hated your heart for racing at the feeling of his tongue on yours.
That was the general emotion when you were around him. Hate. Hate and frustration and annoyance and pure, fiery arousal.
The last one is the most prevalent as you're pressed up against a bedroom wall, the bass of the song playing outside reverberating on your back. Patrick's hands are all over you, groping and tracing every inch of skin he could find.
"Fucking idiot," you huff in between wet smacks of your lips, yanking at his shirt collar, trying to signal him to take it off.
"Y'know," he starts, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it aside, "for someone who proclaims to hate me so much, you sure are hell-bent on getting me naked."
"They're not mutually exclusive concepts, dumbass." Your words seem frail, and your voice trails off at the end as his fingers tug at the belt loops of your pants.
"Ooh, big words." He purrs, cocking an eyebrow. "Are you doing that thing where you try to sound smart so that I don't notice that you're full of shit?"
"I am not- oh, god..." Any biting remark you may have had ready died on your tongue as his fingers slipped under your pants and were tracing the damp patch on your underwear.
"Aw, not so talkative now, are you?" Patrick placed open-mouthed kisses over your neck, nipping gently every so often. "If I'd known this was all it took to shut you up, I would've done this sooner."
With a gasp, your hand snakes up to Patrick's hair, fingers curling when the pads of his fingers linger over your covered clit, roaming a little before finding the rhythm that made your head fall back with a thump.
"Atta girl, keep making those pretty noises." He hummed, using his other hand to pop open the buttons of your pants and tug them down to your knees.
Well, naturally, you just had to do the opposite of whatever he told you. So you clamped your mouth shut. Of course, you were now resigned to breathing heavily through your nose instead and that was still as audible.
Patrick pulls back for a moment to look at you, eyes darting all over your stony face, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.
"Shoulda seen that coming. But we'll get you talking."
And you should have known he wasn't all talk. Before you have the chance to scoff at his remark, his hand dips under the waistband of your underwear to trace along your folds.
You could feel your cheeks turn hot as you saw his eyes go wide with awe and amusement. "'S such a mess down there, pretty. Little ol' me did that?"
He knew you weren't going to admit that, so he didn't wait for a response. He got all he needed when he saw you react, saw you keen when his fingertips dragged over your clit, resuming the rhythm that set fire in your belly.
"Aw, it's okay," he purrs, tonguing over your collarbone. "Y'don't have to say it. Y'know why? 'Cause this pretty pussy says it all for me, doesn't she?"
That makes your pussy clench, and you know he can feel it. An airy chuckle tells you he definitely can. "Thought so. Can feel her asking for it, begging for me."
You can't help the moan that is ripped from your throat when he sinks a finger in, curling at just the right spot to have you raking your nails down his shoulders, hanging on for dear life. Your legs are already trembling, and stray hairs are already pasted to your forehead by sweat.
"Fucking hate you," you sigh, but when you're rolling your hips up into his hand it doesn't hold much venom.
"Can't hear you, sweet cheeks, might need to speak up."
"I hate you."
"What's that?''
"I hate you." You can feel pleasure boiling in your gut, seconds away from boiling over.
"One more time," he purrs, pressing his palm up into your clit.
"I hate you! Patrick!" You grasp onto his shoulders as pleasure comes over you in waves, spreading through every vein into your fingertips until you're left with a blissful afterglow, panting and whining.
"There we go." Patrick wipes a hair that fell over your mouth away, grinning. "Knew you'd come around."
You roll your eyes as Patrick pats your cheek and then leaves towards the ensuite bathroom. He comes back a moment later with a wet rag and hands it to you.
He stays for cleanup, but for the first time in all the time you've known each other, it stayed silent.
As you fixed your hair in the bathroom mirror, Patrick came quietly up behind you and placed a glass of water on the counter- you hadn't even noticed he'd left, you'd been so lost in thought.
"I'm assuming you don't want to be seen together, so I should leave now."
You didn't respond. You weren't sure why, and you weren't sure what the answer would have been if you had. But Patrick doesn't seem to take offense to it, instead stepping away from the bathroom. You watch through the mirror as he heads towards the bedroom door.
He stops in the doorway, hand on the doorknob. He's wearing his telltale grin and his hair whips with the movement as he looks back at you.
"Oh, by the way, if you ever feel like hating me again, give me a call."
what's in a name? || Patrick Verona (TTIHAY) x gn!reader (Modern!College!AU)
AVAILABLE ON AO3 (SOON)
Inspiration: ✨️Patrick Verona✨️
Summary: Patrick Verona is apparently the most intimidating guy on campus. You just want to get by, pass your classes, and get to your actual dreams. When you casually approach him one day and decidedly are not scared of him, Patrick has some questions.
TWs: light language, use of Y/N (only like twice), second person POV (you, yours).
[[A/N: This is basically under the concept that you approach Patrick first, and aren't really as afraid of him as anybody else. He's intrigued. Also this is a college AU, because I am in college and I think it's weird to write about high school lmao. ALSO,,, I know this is incredibly niche and a dead tag, but... I watched the movie recently and was violently possessed to write this. The parasites in me what to continue this universe, but idk. Anyway. Enjoy :)]]
You were exhausted. Totally and completely exhausted.
You'd stayed up all night for your chem quiz, and still, didn't think you did great on it. Which made your day ever so worse. So, when you went to the library, and someone was sitting in the spot you always sat in, you halfway wanted to cry and halfway wanted to rip your hair out. Normally, such a thing wouldn't be a big deal, but today it was. So, with a certainty that rivaled a lawyer in court, you stomped over to the chair.
For a moment, the guy didn't even look at you. He kept staring at his friend, a surprisingly 'metal' dressing guy who was talking avidly about something.
You cleared your throat.
That's when they both looked at you.
You were entirely focused on the one in your seat. A taller guy with built shoulders, curly hair and a sharp jaw. In normal circumstances, you'd probably think he was hot. Today was not normal circumstances.
The man raised an eyebrow.
Okay, so maybe it was a little normal circumstances, but that wasn't relevant.
"What are you doing?"
The man answered, simply -maybe a little confused, "Sitting?"
"That's my spot," you clarified, pointedly.
"Oh, I'm sorry-" the man pretended to start getting up before pausing -speaking sarcastically, "-Oh wait, I've just remembered, this is public property."
Mindlessly noting that he had an accent that you couldn't quite place, you rolled your eyes, "I sit there everyday. Just give me the spot."
"You weren't sitting here all day," he pointed out, "-or else I wouldn't be here."
You pressed your lips together into a thin line, "I was busy failing a chem test, now get up."
His eyes skimmed over your face, thoughtfully, "Do you know who I am?"
"Why-" you sighed out, frustrated, "-would I know who you are?"
Even despite the comment, he did seem familiar somehow but you weren't going to tell him that.
He furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, and didn't say anything. You felt like you were going to explode in fiery flames.
You groaned, "Oh my god. There are thousands of seats on campus, just go sit somewhere else."
"Exactly," the man countered, "-why don't you sit somewhere else?"
"Because-" you huffed out a breath, "-that's my spot."
"And why is this spot so important to you?" He shuffled slightly, moving his hands along the cracks of the seat, "-You got something good stashed in 'ere?"
"Dear god," you huffed out a breath in defeat, "-Whatever. Enjoy your seat, asshole."
And with that, you spun on your heel and pulled yourself deeper into the library. Taking a breath in, you pulled yourself into a seat not too far from the original, but you were around the corner so you wouldn't have to look at his stupid face. You soured just at the thought.
You pulled open your chem book, and read through it -trying to figure out which ones you definitely missed, that way you could get the ballpark for what your grade might be. You really needed to know, to make sure your GPA stayed in the range for your dream university.
But, in the middle of it, you heard someone plop into the chair in front of you (it was a group of chairs, like for a group of people if necessary).
Before looking up, you spoke -sharply, "Do you mind?"
"Not at all."
Your eyes shot up at that familiar accent, and you frowned.
"You got the seat," you pointed out, bitterly, "-What the hell do you want now?"
"Your name," he answered simply.
You blinked, (what?) before settling back into your seat and flipping to the next page, "Yeah, no."
The man seemed to move forward, and unwillingly your eyes flickered to him (his curls moving with the motion), "Why not?"
"I don't give my name out to strangers," you retorted -flicking your eyes down to your book, "-especially not assholes."
"Don't know if I can change who I am," he smirked, "-but, I can work on the stranger part."
You frowned, eyeing him particularly, "Seriously, what do you want?"
"I already told you," he replied, fidgeting with something in his hands (you weren't paying attention), "-I'm Patrick, by the way."
"Well," you exhaled, sharply, and ignored his name, "-you're not getting it."
"Well," he repeated with the same sort of grin, "-I'll just have to work on that too, then."
You looked up at him again and squinted at him -trying to read him somehow. All he did was grin at you, a charming kind, of course, that made crinkles on his cheeks. You ignored the flutter in your chest that it gave you and darted your eyes back down to your book.
The next day, you were in better spirits. After studying for an entirely different class, you were pretty sure you aced that test. So, you weren't as pissed, thankfully. Until you went into the library to sit between classes like you always did.
You paused in your step and frowned.
The guy (Patrick, your mind treacherously noted) was sitting by your chair, mindlessly tapping his fingers along the arm of the chair. He wasn't in your chair, thankfully, but still, he was in the one beside it. Pointedly close.
You huffed out a breath, and moved toward the chairs, "What are you doing?"
"Sitting," he repeated.
You raised an eyebrow.
He seemed to take that as a repeat of the question -before saying, confidently (too confidently), "I'm studying for a test."
"You don't seem like the studying type," you retorted, throwing yourself into the chair and pulling out your laptop -realizing it was no use to try and get him to leave.
Patrick pointed out, "You don't even know me."
"And I don't intend to," you replied with ease, flicking your eyes to meet his, "-your point?"
He grinned the same bright one from before, amused maybe. Your heart skipped a beat, so you dropped your eyes back down to your laptop. He, on the other hand, didn't seem to look away.
"What's your major?" He asked, thoughtfully.
"I won't tell you my name," you leveled, scrolling through your online schedule for homework, "-but you think I'll tell you my major?"
"Well," he reasoned, "-a name is much more identifiable, but your major," he shrugged, "-not so much."
You eyed him again for a second, before saying, "What if you just want to look up my classes and hunt me down?"
Patrick smiled again, before asking, "What is your next class?"
"Why?" You ask, pointedly, "-So you can force me into talking to you again?"
"Preferably," he replied, grinning cheekily.
You raised an eyebrow, and bit your lip to pull down a smile that begged to quirk up, "I'm not telling you that either."
"What if I just follow you when you leave?" He questioned, curiously, "-Figure it out myself?"
"And what if I-" you smiled at him -patronizingly, "-call the campus police?"
He raised both eyebrows as if to say 'touché' without saying it out loud. You bit down another smile and moved back to your computer -pulling out your planner and jotting down dates.
"Your pissiness," he suddenly spoke, "-Are you often filled with boiling hatred?"
"No," you sigh out, before shooting him another patronizing smile, "-that's special just for you."
He laughed then, and something warm zinged down to your toes (you ignored it), "Do you seriously not know me?"
"Do you know how many Patricks exist in the world?" you point out, "-No, I don't know you."
"So you do remember my name," he smirked, patting along his lap with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
You rolled your eyes but didn't say a word.
It ended up like that for the rest of the time, Patrick shooting questions now and then, and you shutting them down. His stupid smirk and low, rumbly, accented voice, you hated that he actually seemed kinda nice -all things considered.
But, as you stood up to leave, you decided on something.
"Literature," you said simply, gathering up everything into your bag.
He paused, shooting up his eyebrows, "What?"
"My next class," you answered, nonchalantly pulling your bag onto your shoulder, "-Intro to Literature."
Patrick grinned, bright and shiny, "Gen Ed?"
"Yeah," you answered, moving to put the last few things in your bag.
"Can I walk you?"
Your eyes snapped to him then, curiously -detailing the rather honest look, before answering solidly, "No."
He burst into laughter then, throwing his head back against the chair -you mindlessly watched his curls fall back with the motion and then snapped your eyes away.
"Same time tomorrow then?" He asked, still laughing a little bit (something in you twinkled).
"Nope," you exhale a breath, ignoring the disappointment that swirled into your chest, "-I'm not on campus tomorrow."
He seemed to falter for a second, "Do you live on campus?"
You raised a solid eyebrow, you really think I'd tell you that?
"Right, yeah, okay," Patrick conceded, holding up his hands in faux surrender, "-What days are you on campus?"
You paused, pressing your lips together, but something in you did it, "Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays."
He grinned a little brighter, "Are you here around the same time on Mondays?"
Something in your chest flipped, but even still, you answered, "That's what you have to figure out. Not me."
And then, you spun on your heel and walked out of the library. His laughter trailed out behind you, and if you had a small little smile on your face at the noise, that was only for you to know.
Monday came, and you woke up early and made your way to campus -the first class of the day was at the crack of dawn. You physically despised it, but so is the schedule of a college student. Plus, you still worked, so the earlier the better for your schedule -didn't mean it didn't suck though.
Sipping on your drink, you wandered back toward the cafeteria -crossing the main connecting area, where everything led to. There was a baseball game going on, not an official one by the looks of it, in the grass. Your eyes hinged on the game for a few seconds, the echoes of laughter shooting toward your ears. It looked fun, but you weren't too invested in being outside for that long. Before you could look away though, your eyes caught on a familiar frame.
Patrick.
His hair was tied back, and he was wearing a pretty bland tank top (just grey), with some typical jeans. With his hair pulled back, you could see his jaw more distinctively -the sharp lines clear from even this far away. (Not that you were looking.) The sun bore down on them but all of the players seemed to be happily distracted. And you kinda were too.
You pursed your lips, for a moment, and looked forward again after a breath, heading toward the cafeteria again confidently.
Before you could get very far, though, you heard a familiar accent.
"Hey!" He yelled, a little distant -footsteps following his voice, "-Hey!"
At first, you weren't sure if he was talking to you, so you kept moving.
"Shit, I don't know what to call you," he called out, breathless and much, much closer.
You spun on your heels with furrowed brows, and met his eyes over a few people's heads. The grin that swallowed his face whole should've been criminal, bright and twinkly and... charming.
Before you could say anything, he was by your side with heavy breaths -assumedly from playing baseball and getting over to you. Leaning over slightly, he leveled out heavy breaths. You were almost concerned enough to offer him water, but he seemed to settle himself before you could.
"Hi," he echoed, "-'Ve been looking for you all morning, what time did you get here?"
You blinked, all morning?
"I get here early, 7, and immediately go to class," you answered, a little blankly (looking for you, looking for you, looking for you).
"Oh," he paused, "-I got here at 8. There's classes at 7?"
"Obviously," you respond, because you did in fact just say it.
"Did you-" Patrick started, before pursing his lips together, "-Are you going to the library now?"
You furrowed your eyebrows, "No, I'm going to the cafeteria to eat between classes. Why?"
"I'm actually quite hungry myself," he avoided the question, "-Do you mind if I tag along?"
"What about your game?" You furrowed your eyebrows even further -eyeing him curiously.
"'S just to fill time," he explained, "-It's nothing serious. They're sure to find someone to fill in for me."
You flicker your eyes along his face, trying to read him. What's your prerogative?
After a moment, you come up with nothing and instead, just turn on your heel -leading the way to the cafeteria.
"I'm taking that as a yes, then?" Patrick called out from behind you, catching up and matching your stride with ease (despite you making no move to slow down).
You decidedly don't answer him, and say something focused elsewhere -eyeing him as you walk forward, "Do you always stalk people this much?"
Patrick laughed, catching your eye with his warm brown ones (they were almost sparkly under the sun of the day), "Only the ones that blindly hate me."
You pressed your lips together in a flat line (trying not to give anything away), "I didn't say that I hated you."
His face lit up at the words (and you couldn't decide if you regretted it or not), "Well, you could've convinced me."
You roll your eyes, and keep walking forward, "Not telling you my personal information isn't... hating you."
"I'm not sure not introducing yourself is exactly anything but hatred," he argued back, fluidly.
"I just told you that I don't hate you," you point out, "-so it isn't."
"Does that mean you'll eventually tell me your name?" Patrick asked, curiously.
You turned to him, flicked your eyes over him, and then looked forward again, "Maybe on good behavior."
He burst into laughter, brown eyes set on your face, "You're quite an enigma, you know that?"
"And you're not half the mystery you portray," you fire back, naturally, with the flow of the conversation.
He grinned at that, eyes shining with something you couldn't quite label, "You know, I don't think I've met a person like you. You're fearless in like a-" he motioned with his hands, "-casual way."
"I'm not fearless," you argue, approaching the door to the cafeteria, "-I'm just confident."
"Do they not go hand-in-hand?" Patrick offers, getting to the door before you and promptly holding it open for you -unflinchingly.
Something warm stirs in your stomach at the gesture (and his woodsy scent that brushes your nose as you walk past him), but you ignore it, "You can be certain and still be afraid."
"But knowing you're right doesn't necessarily mean-" Patrick followed you in, matching your stride again, as if it's natural, "-that you're confident."
You furrow your eyebrows, genuinely intrigued, "What do you mean?"
He paused, maybe a little shocked by your attentiveness, "Plenty of people know they're right and still concede to someone else because they don't want to fight it. You-" he pointed at you, "-will fight it."
"Well," you purse your lips, avoiding his eye contact, "-maybe I'm only like this with you."
"You," Patrick paused, "-You're not this fiery ball of rage with anyone else?"
You eye him for a second, before saying flatly, "Maybe."
"All of this seething hatred and impressive indifference just for me?" He grins, the big teeth-showing kind, "-I'm touched really. Because I am special to you in some weird kinda twisted way-"
Before you can stop yourself, you let out a laugh at his words -just a quick one. Barely there.
But you could still see the delight smooth along his face, and just knew he caught it.
"How much of that have you been holding back?" He tilted his head curiously, before continuing to push it, smirking, "-Oh I bet you think I'm hilarious."
Your heart skipped a beat at the smirk, and you simply pressed your lips together and turned on your heel to the food counter. There wasn't even a second before you heard footsteps following you.
"You're not denying it, you know," he called after you, close on your tail.
You peer over the selection of food, eyeing the different items thoughtfully, "But I didn't confirm it either."
"Still not denying it," Patrick hummed, sing-songy.
"You know," you turn to him (mindlessly noting that he is very close), sharply, "-someone can have one good joke and still be unfunny."
He leaned forward slightly, eyes set on yours -challenging, "Then tell me why it came out like you were holding it back?"
You blinked at him, once and then twice, the sudden closeness sent a shock through your brain and the challenging tone of his voice nearly gave you full-body shivers. You can't find words to say, and you can nearly see it processing on Patrick's face (the way that he had made your mind melt for a moment), so you turn to the counter and point at something random for them to pick out for you.
The woman eyes the two of you suspiciously, but still diligently pulls out a to-go plate and piles the... mashed potatoes onto it.
"Oh my god," he finally says after a moment (you ignore it).
You go through a few other items, and the woman gathers them onto the plate. You pay, grab your plate-
"You like me," Patrick retorts, and you're not even looking at him but you can tell he's got a shit-eating grin.
Your brain malfunctions for a moment, but you step toward the tables and fire back (on autopilot), "I won't even tell you my name."
He's hot on your trail, following you diligently, "You're avoiding the question."
You spin to him, and reply -sharply, "You didn't ask a question."
His eyes flicker along your face, taking you in (you want to squirm but you steel yourself in place -your eyes now challenging), and then he grins so bright that you'd need sunglasses in any other scenario.
"Oh, you're really into me," he continues, low, gravelly, accented voice rumbling through your ears.
You screw up your face into something defiant, roll your eyes, and turn back to slide into a table. Patrick follows you like a lost puppy. Well, an incredibly arrogant lost puppy.
"You're still not denying it," he slides into the chair beside you and you hate the way your brain swims at the woodsy smell that brushes your nose.
"'Thought you were hungry," you say, simply (avoiding the question and decidedly not denying).
"It was very obviously a ploy," Patrick chimed back, with natural ease -tilting his head slightly and looking at you with twinkling eyes, "-They had pizza out there for all the players. I've already eaten."
Your fork froze for a millisecond (even still, you were sure he caught it), and after a moment, you pulled it to your lips. Maybe conquering both of your lack of response and the way your mind lit up at the idea of 'he just wanted to see me'.
His smile and eyes seemed to soften slightly, as he leaned his head down to catch your eye and guide it back up to your natural gaze (your heart skipped a beat). His brown eyes were soft and if you were honest, maybe a little affectionate.
"What's your name?" He finally said after a soft few moments.
And just like that, for you, the moment snapped, and you rolled your eyes -turning back to your food.
"Oh, come on," Patrick tried to catch your gaze again, "-Look, I'll tell you. Patrick Verona. That's my name-"
You bit down a smile, as he motioned to you with his hands.
"-Now, your turn, tell me yours."
You raised an eyebrow.
Patrick let out a half-laugh, before leaning forward slightly on the table -not quite a breath away, but certainly closer.
"You're so stubborn," he laughed, "-I'll beg. You want me to beg?"
You can't help but let the smile slip onto your lips then, "Why would you beg for my name?"
"Because I want it," he pointed out, still grinning "-Because I want to know you, and personally, I think it should start with a name."
Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you let your fork hang there on the path to your face. You took a moment, scampered your eyes along his face (dark brown eyes so incredibly soft, curls coming down from where he put them up in individual tendrils). Your resolve was weakening, it was really and truly broken under Patrick Verona's hand.
Stupid pretty boys-
"Y/N," you said finally (quieter than intended), immediately pulling a bite to your mouth.
Patrick blinked, "What?"
"'S my name," you explain -shortly, moving a hand in front of your mouth as you chew, "-Y/N."
His eyes lit up at the words, that stupid charming grin smoothing onto his face as he repeated, softer than expected, "Y/N."
You shove down the fluster that begs to climb up your cheeks at his accented voice saying your name. It's something you'd never really thought about but now that it's said, you probably should've thought about it.
Patrick leaned back in his chair, eyes still set on you. He was still grinning, as he said simply, "Suits you."
You furrow your eyebrows, "What's that supposed to mean?"
He raises his hands in faux surrender, laughing to himself, "Jesus, you're a true ball of rage, you know 'at?"
"I'm not-" you huff out, and take a deep breath in, "-I'm not mad."
"Defensive then," he mends, "-You act as though I'm about to strike any minute."
You pursed your lips, "Whose to say you aren't?"
"Me," Patrick laughs, "-This entire conversation. The way I've acted around you since the beginning-"
"Oh, shut up," you roll your eyes, unable to stop the smile creeping onto your lips, "-you were an asshole once."
He groaned, but something like amusement was twinkling in his eyes, "You are the most stubborn human being on this earth-"
"You took my spot," you interrupt, sturdy.
"-It's public property," Patrick argued back, "-and how was I supposed to know it was yours before I sat in it?"
You paused, for a moment, before saying, "You couldn't. But, you could have given it to me when I asked."
"And then we wouldn't be here," he explained, now fully grinning, "-and wouldn't that just be such a bore."
Your eyes swam over his face a moment, Patrick Verona. And his dumb persistence. And his stupid handsome face-
God.
You let out a long sigh, picking around at your food. Eyes watching the swirl of your fork, you debate a few different things to say. Finally, after a few spare seconds, you made up your mind.
"Yeah," you hum, flickering your eyes up to his, "-it would."
Patrick grinned, big and bright and twinkly (you felt your heart skip a beat in your chest). His eyes, the deep brown that if you weren't careful you could stare at for way too long, were soft but still sort of happy, eager. Definitely eager.
And maybe, just maybe, you could get used to-
"I told you I could work on the 'stranger' thing," he suddenly said, smirking, "-You never should've doubted me."
"What?" You raised an eyebrow, confused.
"You said-" Patrick explained, "-you don't give your name out to strangers. And I said I could work on that part-"
You level a look at him.
"-And look, I did," he continued, before adding with a smirk, "-I have successfully escaped the cavernous barrier, deeper than the ocean I'd say, that walls you off from any poor soul who wishes to know you-"
"You're really pushing it, Verona," you chime back, fiery (but not quite all the way).
"What?" He raised his eyebrows, like he said nothing at all to warrant the reaction, "-You can't tell me that it's not like pulling teeth getting to know you. Or trying to anyway-"
You press your lips onto a flat line, "Wow, you must be a sort of masochist, then?
He faltered for a second, before laughing a little, "Oh absolutely, I chase the high of you ignoring me for 2 hours straight every day."
You rolled your eyes, biting down a smile, "I despise you."
"Better that than indifferent," he responded with ease, "-I prefer you feeling something rather than nothing at all."
"Oh my god-"
It continued like that, a back and forth, as you finish eating your mediocre cafeteria lunch. The silence is sparse but not uncomfortable when Patrick isn't running his mouth, that is. It was nice. Insanely nice. You'd probably never had as much fun on this campus as you did with him, just in general, but...
"Same time Wednesday?" He poses with a cheeky grin, leaning onto one hand against the table -closer to you than before.
You felt something warm swirl into your stomach, as your eyes flickered over his face. He was still smiling, like he wasn't able to stop when he was here with you. And something in you never wanted to see it go away anyway.
So, with a slight head tilt and a brighter grin than what you'd let slip past all day, you repeated.
