¡¡TW!! : Contenido explicito, contenido explicito detallado, fetiche de ropa interior, outercourse (practicas no penetrativas), sexo en lugar público, Oc femenina. Probablemente me falten muchas más. Son como unas 3,5k palabras, perdón.
Hola, este es el primer fanfic que escribo en mucho tiempo, espero les guste. De antemano me disculpo si les parece muy fuera de personaje, probablemente me dejé llevar.
—Siendo honesto, también me daba bastante rabia el no poder acompañarte a un sitio tan espectacular —soltó un suspiro mientras sus dedos tamborilean sobre el volante—. Si no hubiese sido por el trabajo…
—No tienes por qué preocuparte, ¿sabes? —le interrumpí—. Cinco días pasan volando. Además, te acosaré mandándote fotos de todo lo que vea; terminaras harto de mí.
Florian se había ofrecido a llevarme al aeropuerto. Era el único momento a solas que habíamos tenido desde hacía días; lo habían despedido de sus prácticas profesionales y ahora estaba sin trabajo. No podía culparle por estar ocupado, necesitaba encontrar una manera de subsistir.
Tampoco estaba molesta, al menos no realmente.
Pero pasar poco más de treinta días sin una cita real era un comienzo complicado para una relación. Y yo comenzaba a estar… ansiosa, por decirlo de alguna manera, puesto que en todo este tiempo no había pasado nada.
Nada.
Nada más allá de sujetarnos las manos en los pasillos, de un beso suave en los labios. Porque así era Florian, suave. Dulce. Incluso recatado. Tanto que me hacía sentir como una pervertida cada vez que me calentaba con solo verlo. Su cabello, su piel, sus manos… Todo él me llamaba de una forma tan obscena que me hacía sentir avergonzada. Me sentía como un hombre victoriano perdiendo la cabeza por simple un tobillo.
¿Y qué si es así? ¿Qué si era una pervertida? ¿Estaba mal desear más del hombre a mi lado?
Lo escuché soltar un suspiro. Mi ensoñación nos había dejado en un silencio mientras Every Breath you take de The Police sonaba en la radio.
Pasamos al lado de un cartel que decía "Aeropuerto, Terminal 2 - 5 km"
Y de repente, sentí mis manos sudar. No podía irme sin hacer absolutamente nada, o al menos sin intentarlo. Tendría que ser yo quien diera el primer paso; él era demasiado dulce como para intentarlo y yo no tenía la paciencia para esperar por él otros cinco días.
Sentía que explotaría en cualquier momento si no hacía algo ahora mismo.
Florian estacionó el auto en un lugar apartado de la entrada principal. La farola más cercana parpadeó hasta apagarse por unos segundos y el único automóvil a nuestro alrededor estaba a unos cuantos metros.
Por una vez, el mundo parecía sonreírme.
Tomé aire antes de hablar. —Florian yo…
No tuve oportunidad para terminar de hablar. Sus manos me sujetaron del rostro para juntar nuestros labios en un beso tan desesperado y exigente que me tomó por sorpresa. Una de sus manos se enterró en mi mejilla mientras la otra viajaba a mi nuca, tomando mi cabello con firmeza para juntar aún más nuestras bocas.
Me tomó un segundo reaccionar, pero en cuanto mis manos encontraron su lugar en su nuca, el auto comenzó a parecerme pequeño.
—Livarin…—Lo escuché jadear mi nombre cuando tiré de su cabello con fuerza y, Dios, sonaba tan divino.
Quería más. Más de él, a él en su totalidad. Lo necesitaba tan cerca de mí y de repente el viaje a París me parecía insignificante comparado con la posibilidad de estar a su lado aunque sea cinco minutos más.
Incliné mi cuerpo hacia él y Florian, ni lento ni perezoso, se separó de mí lo justo para buscar con urgencia y torpeza la palanca que reclinaba su asiento. Sonreí al escuchar el asiento ceder con un golpe seco y me tomé un segundo para mirarlo. Su piel, blanca como la porcelana, estaba sonrojada desde el cuello hasta sus orejas, ardiendo en un intenso color malva. Y sus ojos, esos extraños e hipnóticos ojos magenta me devoraban. Me llamaban e incitaban a fundirme en él, a desaparecer en la profundidad de esa mirada que rayaba la devoción, hasta que no quedara rastro de juicio alguno.
El espacio se transformó en una invitación abierta y él no parecía dispuesto a perder ni un segundo.—Ven aquí. —dijo mientras me tomaba de la cintura y me jalaba hacia él, acomodándome a horcajadas sobre su regazo.
El contacto fue inmediato y devastador. Inclusive a través de las capas de tela que nos separaban podía sentir lo obvio de su deseo, tan firme y duro contra mi muslo que me hizo soltar un gemido contra sus labios.
El corazón me iba a cien revoluciones por minuto y yo estaba segura que podía sentirlo vibrar en sintonía con el suyo.
Lo besé nuevamente mientras mis manos se enredaban en su suave cabello antes de bajar más y más, tocando la poca piel libre de su cuello que mis pulgares lograban alcanzar. Continúe acariciando sus hombros, tocando su pecho y abdomen bajo por sobre la tela que me comenzaba a estorbar. Escuché como soltaba un gemido ante mis caricias y en respuesta, apreté mis muslos contra sus caderas.
Tratando de recuperar cierto control, Florian comenzó a trazar con sus dedos mi cuello, acariciando mi yugular con una lentitud exasperante, casi cruel. Bajando por mi hombro, para después viajar por mi clavícula mientras sus labios seguían el mismo camino por mi mandíbula, dejando un rastro húmedo que me erizaba la piel.
Le gustaba jugar conmigo al muy cabrón, pensé. Evitaba tocarme donde más lo necesitaba, ignorando deliberadamente la piel de mis pechos; su negativa me hacía sentir una urgencia que rayaba en el dolor. Sin embargo yo no tenía la paciencia para seguir sus juegos, esta se había quedado en algún tramo de la carretera, varios kilómetros atrás.
—Florian…—gemí bajo, temerosa de que alguien notara lo que sucedía en este viejo auto. Pero él solo respondía con un beso lento en la base de mi cuello, justo sobre mis clavículas, pero sin bajar ni un milímetro más.
No pude más. Con un movimiento brusco y desesperado, tomé su mano y la obligué a tocarme, estampando su mano directamente sobre mi pecho.
Ambos soltamos un gemido por el contacto y por un momento pude ver como en sus ojos se reflejaba el destello de quien aceptaba que había sido derrotado en esta batalla de voluntad que, en el fondo, ambos sabíamos que deseaba perder.
Florian soltó un jadeo tembloroso contra mis labios y, antes de siquiera procesarlo, su palma apretó mi pecho con tal firmeza que me hizo arquear la espalda.
Cuanto más me tocaba más me dejaba en claro que esa mesura de la que yo tanto hablaba había sido solo una máscara. Florian no estaba siendo dulce, mucho menos suave. Sus manos recorriendo mis pechos, bajando más y más, hasta colarse debajo de mi blusa y rozar mi piel junto con la tela de mi pantalón, me mostraban tal desesperación y anhelo que me hacía perder la cabeza. En ese momento comprendí, que yo no era la única que había estado a punto de explotar.
Él contraste de sus manos frías y febriles contra la piel cálida y ardiente de mi abdomen, me provoco un escalofrío tan intenso que me hizo mover mis caderas contra las suyas en un vaivén lento. Florian soltó un gemido ahogado en respuesta al sentir la fricción. Sus manos subieron con urgencia por debajo de la tela, colándose bajo mi sostén hasta cubrir mis pechos por completo. Me besó con una desesperación renovada, devorando todos esos gemidos y jadeos que se me escapaban cada vez que sus dedos, firmes y torpes, apretaban mis pezones ya erectos, frotándolos con la yema de sus dedos hasta hacerme temblar.
Sin embargo, conforme su excitación incrementaba, la ropa comenzaba a estorbarle tanto como a mí. Rompiendo el beso por solo un segundo, los ojos de Florian brillaron con pura decisión. Sacó sus manos de mi ropa, y con un movimiento brusco, tiró del escote de mi blusa hacia abajo en un solo movimiento, exponiendo el encaje morado de mi sostén. Me dedicó una pequeña sonrisa divertida antes de meter los dedos por el borde de las copas, y bajarlas también, dejando mis pechos completamente expuestos ante su mirada magenta.
No me dio tregua alguna para poder respirar. Su boca viajó inmediatamente sobre mi pecho derecho. Solté un jadeo ahogado cuando su lengua, caliente y húmeda, lamió mi pezón antes de succionarlo con fuerza. Mis manos temblaron, buscando apoyo en cualquier lugar mientras el placer recorría mi cuerpo como una descarga eléctrica, viajando directo a mi intimidad.
Las manos de Florian me sostuvieron con firmeza por las caderas, hundiendo sus dedos en mi carne mientras subía sus besos por la curva de mi pecho, mordiendo suavemente la piel sensible hasta dejarla enrojecida, hasta llegar a mi cuello y repetir el trayecto una y otra vez.
A este punto me era imposible moderar el tono de mi voz, y honestamente ya no me importaba.
—Ah… Florian —gemí cuando sus manos subieron de nuevo para apretar mis senos, amasándolos y estrujándolos con posesividad, usándolos para tirar de mi cuerpo hacia abajo, obligándome a restregarme aún más contra él.
El deseo me nubló el juicio, impidiéndome pensar con la cabeza. Necesitaba desesperadamente apaciguar el fuego entre mis piernas, así que comencé a restregar mi intimidad aún vestida contra la suya con más intensidad, buscando esa fricción aunque sea a través de la tela de nuestros pantalones. Y cuando Florian soltó un gemido tan profundo que retumbo por todo su pecho, supe que podría correrme con solo escucharlo.
Lejos de detenerme, sus ojos se oscurecieron por completo y comenzó a mover sus propias caderas hacia arriba, embistiéndome con desesperación para igualar mis movimientos. El roce constante, su erección dura y firme contra mi centro, incluso aun vestidos, me hizo perder el aire por completo. Me aferré a sus hombros con fuerza mientras nos movíamos en este espacio que cada vez nos parecía más insuficiente y pequeño, devorándonos en un compás cada vez más asfixiante mientras sentía como mi humedad comenzaba a filtrarse por la tela.
Sin embargo yo era codiciosa. Y más aún cuando se trataba de él; lo quería todo. Quería ir más allá, quería deshacerme de todo y poder sentirlo de verdad.
Ya no me importaba el viaje a París, mucho menos el hecho de estar en su auto en medio del estacionamiento.
Mis manos temblaron en anticipación cuando toqué con las yemas de mis dedos la hebilla de su pantalón para desabrocharlo. Y cuando mis manos lograron desabrocharlo y encontrar el botón de su pantalón, Florian soltó un jadeo sorprendido. Sin pedir permiso, lo desabroché y deslicé su cremallera hacia abajo.
Mi mano trató de colarse de inmediato por la apertura, buscando con ansiedad el calor directo de su erección. Pero, muy a mi pesar, sus manos me detuvieron antes de poder seguir, apretando mis muñecas con suavidad.
—Livarin, espera… —soltó un jadeo contra la piel de mi pecho derecho, con su aliento quemando mi piel. Levantó su rostro y me dio la mirada más dulce y patética que pudiera imaginar, con los labios hinchados y húmedos.
—¿Qué…. Qué pasa?—pregunté con voz rota mientras me detenía, temerosa de haber hecho algo incorrecto.
Florian cerró sus ojos por un segundo mientras apoyaba su cabeza en el hueco de mi cuello, dejando salir un gemido de frustración y luchando por recuperar un poco de esa cordura que yo misma me había encargo de arrebatarle. Podía sentir los latidos desbocados de su corazón golpeando violentamente contra mi pecho desnudo.
—No tengo… no vine preparado. —confesó en un hilo de voz cargado de frustración. —No esperaba que esto… que nosotros…
Respiró profundamente mientras sus manos, aun temblorosas, subieron para acomodar con extrema delicadeza mi sostén y el escote de mi blusa, tratando de cubrirme para su mirada, aunque sus dedos rozaban mi piel con una torpeza que delataba que no quería dejar de tocarme.
—Además, no aquí —murmuró cuando sus manos acunaron mi rostro, obligándome a mirarlo a los ojos. Esos ojos magenta que aun brillaban con una intensidad salvaje; esos ojos que me decían que ni siquiera él estaba seguro de lo que decía. —No quiero que el recuerdo de nuestra primera vez juntos sea aquí, en el auto. Mucho menos con las prisas de tu vuelo. Te mereces algo mucho mejor que esto, y yo quiero darte algo mucho mejor que esto.
Me dio un beso corto en los labios. Era lindo, pensé. Pero rápidamente negué con la cabeza; no podía dejarlo salirse con la suya tan fácilmente, no después de haberme dejado en este estado. Sus palabras eran lindas, pero mi cuerpo no entendía de esta clase romanticismo. Yo me sentía palpitar, caliente y vacía. Mi intimidad exigía aquel contacto que él acababa de interrumpir.
Yo no me iba a subir a ese avión a medias, antes muerta.
—No —le respondí molesta.
—¿No?
—¡No! —dije contra sus labios—. Me importa una mierda el vuelo ahora mismo, Florian. No me voy a ir así. No puedes dejarme a medias después de…
¿Cómo se le ocurría? ¿Realmente creyó que aceptaría irme así sin más? Había estado tan cerca…
—Livarin, no podemos… —Insistió él con poca convicción. Poco podía hacer él cuando mis manos se sumergieron bajo su chaleco de lana y de su camisa formal, acariciando la piel desnuda de su abdomen bajo y ese vello que comenzaba a asomarse por el borde de su pantalón. —No… No te quiero poner en esa situación.
—No tiene por qué ser así. —susurre, rozando sus labios contra los míos, sintiendo como tiraba la poca cordura que le quedaba por la borda. —No quiero que te detengas, solo… Solo déjame sentirte, por favor.
Mi súplica terminó de romper el último hilo de resistencia que le quedaba. Florian soltó un suspiro que me sonó a pura derrota y, esta vez, fue él quien buscó mi boca con un beso hambriento y que rozaba la violencia, mientras sus manos bajaban a mis caderas con urgencia.
Entre los dos y como podíamos, logramos desabrochar y bajar mi pantalón hacia abajo, deshaciéndonos de ellos con un jalón desesperado hasta que cayeron en algún lugar del auto. No esperamos un segundo. Con mis manos libres y con su ayuda, baje su pantalón y su ropa interior, liberando su erección por completo.
El contacto directo con su miembro, con su punta rozada, pesado y caliente contra mis manos me hizo soltar un gemido. Por inercia lo bombeé con lentitud, observando como la piel de su prepucio se movía junto con mis movimientos. Lo escuché contener el aliento, arqueando la espalda mientras sus ojos se cerraban con una mezcla de éxtasis y rendición.
El tener entre mis manos, literal y metafóricamente, ese poder de desestabilizarlo, de hacerlo ceder ante su racionalidad, me gustaba. Me gustaba mucho. Sabía que se estaba entregando a mí, rompiendo sus propias reglas solo porque yo se lo pedía.
No hacía falta nada más, tampoco cruzaría esa línea si él no quería. Pero, mierda, tampoco haría falta. El simple roce, aquel límite que nos marcaba la cordura, sería suficiente. La anticipación y la expectativa eran suficientes para volvernos locos.
—Livarin… Basta —suplicó con voz rota.
Florian me tomó de las caderas con manos posesivas y yo misma, guiada por el deseo, acomodé su miembro junto entre mis piernas, deslizándolo entre la estrecha tela de mi ropa interior, en medio de mis labios. El contacto directo nos hizo soltar un gemido al unísono. Su punta desnuda se topó directamente contra mi clítoris y comenzó a empujar sus caderas hacia arriba con un ritmo lento, dejándonos saborear el primer contacto de muchos por venir.
Cada embestida contra mi centro me hacía temblar de pies a cabeza, arrancándome gemidos y jadeos que resonaban por los cristales empañados del auto.
Nos movimos en sincronía, con mis manos apoyadas en sus caderas desnudas para seguir con ese compás caótico y asfixiante, atrapados en un vaivén deliciosamente agónico. Sentía que me faltaba el aire.
Florian subió sus manos desde mis caderas hasta mi espalda baja, hundiéndolas por debajo de mi blusa para pegarme aún más a su cuerpo. Su pecho subía y bajaba con violencia, y cuando levantó su rostro para mirarme, la intensidad de su mirada me hizo temblar, me sentí intimidada. Sus facciones, marcadas y delicadas a la vez, estaban rígidas por el esfuerzo de contenerse, con sus labios abiertos e hinchados.
Traté de esconder mi rostro entre su cuello, pero él no me lo permitió.
—Mírame, Livarin… —jadeó contra mi oído. Su mano derecha subió hasta mi nuca, enredando sus largos dedos en mi cabello para obligarme a sostenerle la mirada mientras sus caderas daban otra embestida firme contra mi núcleo, haciéndome gemir contra sus labios—. Mírame, por favor.
Sostener su mirada fue una tortura que acepte con gusto. Cada que su erección rozaba mi clítoris, junto con la tela empapada de mi ropa interior, mis ojos se ponían en blanco y un gemido agudo, casi desvergonzado, se me escapaba de la garganta.
Pero él se negaba a dejarme apartar la mirada; sostenía mi rostro con su otra mano, delineando mis labios y mi mandíbula con su pulgar, devorando cada una de mis reacciones. Deseaba registrar la manera en la que mis pupilas se dilataban al mirarlo, el temblor de mis labios al exhalar su nombre. Deseaba memorizar la ruta exacta de mi placer antes que cruzara la puerta de embarque que me alejaría de él durante tantos días.
—Florian… Ah, Florian. Más, por favor —supliqué, perdiendo cualquier rasgo de orgullo o timidez, hundiéndome más contra su regazo y buscando desesperadamente el contacto de sus labios.
Florian no me hizo esperar. Soltó un suspiro tembloroso y atrapó nuestros labios en un beso profundo, hambriento y desesperado, sin espacio alguno para la dulzura. Nuestras lenguas rozaron la una a la otra, en una falsa batalla que estaba dispuesta a perder. Sus dedos en mi nuca se apretaron, guiando el ritmo de nuestras bocas mientras yo le correspondía con la misma intensidad, mordiendo su labio inferior y escuchándolo soltar un gemido ahogado directamente en mi garganta.
Mis manos, que se apoyaban en la piel desnuda de sus caderas, subieron por la piel de su abdomen. Mis uñas lo rasguñaban cada vez que el placer se hacía más intenso, haciéndolo fruncir el ceño mientras mantenía ese ritmo que me acercaba cada vez más al borde.
Apretó sus dientes contra mis labios a la par de sus caderas, que se movían con una insistencia casi dolorosa, lo que me decía que también él estaba cada vez más cerca del borde. Sus manos volvieron a mis pechos, estrujándolos a un ritmo y con una fuerza que se coordinaba a la perfección con el vaivén de nuestras caderas.
La fricción, nuestra humedad combinada, el sonido de nuestras respiraciones, de sus jadeos y gemidos… Todo ahora me parecía un estímulo que se tensaba y se asentaba en mi vientre, un nudo que me hacía comprender que no soportaría muchos más.
—Florian… Voy a… —mis palabras fueron sofocadas por un grito ahogado cuando dio una embestida especialmente fuerte contra mi centro,
Y ese fue el detonante. Un espasmo violento nació desde lo más profundo de mi ser, contrayéndome en una ola de placer tan intensa que me arrancó el aire. Mi orgasmo me golpeó como una descarga eléctrica que me hizo arquear la espalda por completo, perdiéndome en el placer mientras mis manos se aferraban a la tela que cubría sus hombros. Enterré mi rostro en su cuello, soltando gemidos agudos y desbocados mientras dejaba que el placer nublara mi vista.
Al sentirme temblar en sus brazos y al escucharme contra su oído, Florian se dejó llevar por mi placer. Soltó un gemido profundo que retumbó con fuerza contra mi pecho. Sus manos me sostuvieron, embistiéndome con movimientos cortos y rápidos, desesperados. Su cuerpo entero se tensó y, con un último jadeo, se corrió en mi ropa interior.
Sentí cómo la calidez de su esperma golpeaba y empapaba la fina tela de mi ropa interior, filtrándose de inmediato y combinándose con mi propia humedad. Florian escondió su rostro en el hueco de mi cuello, mientras nuestros pechos subían y bajaban de forma errática.
Nos quedamos así durante un momento, flotando en el eco de nuestros jadeos, con los cristales del auto completamente empañados. Con los latidos de nuestros corazones yendo al mismo ritmo desbocado.
Una paz pesada cayó sobre nosotros, rota solamente por el zumbido de la radio que me parecía cada vez más lejana. Podría quedarme así durante horas…
Florian deposito un par de besos suaves en mi clavícula y cuello antes de incorporarse lentamente. Cuando lo miré, todavía con sus mejilla encendidas y sus ojos oscurecidos, no hizo falta decir palabra alguna. Me tomó del rostro con ambas mano y me sumergió en un beso lento y profundo, uno que carecía de toda la urgencia de antes.
Nos separamos a regañadientes, rozando nuestras narices mientras recuperábamos el aliento.
—Florian… —susurré, acariciando los risos blancos de su nuca—. Mierda, eso fue increíble —solté una pequeña risa entrecortada—. Pero, necesito cambiar mi ropa interior.
Florian parpadeo, procesando mis palabras con una tímida sonrisa mientras el rubor volvía a tintar sus mejillas. Se aclaró la garganta, recuperando un poco de su habitual caballerosidad.
—Yo… claro. Déjame salir primero. —dijo mientras se acomodaba la ropa a toda prisa con movimientos torpes— Iré a sacar tu maleta de la cajuela para que puedas buscar una muda mientras yo vigilo. No tardaré nada.
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₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ 𝙏𝙖𝙗𝙗𝙮
¡No autorizo que mi trabajo sea utilizado para alimentar inteligencia artificial!
Why Zayne would be the most likely to get you pregnant by accident: A thesis by Soul
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆Yes I’m taking this dead serious and you should too… I’m kidding I just think this is funny I wasn’t expecting this much of a reaction to the initial post so now here we are… enjoy my thoughts :)
He's very in tune with your body, including your cycle.
Maybe too in tune with it. He knows your cycle like the back of his hand, knows it like all the cardiology textbooks he memorized in grad school. Hell, he can tell where you are in your cycle simply by the way you smell, by the way you taste... you get my point.
Zayne knowing you this well is touching, honestly. But it's also his biggest kryptonite because god dammit he just can't resist you. Especially when he knows you're ovulating.
2. He prefers taking preventative measures rather than you taking preventative measures.
Zayne knows how harmful birth control can be to your body. The pill has a side effect pamphlet that could double as a queen size blanket. An IUD is a painful insertion process even if you get pain meds. They mess with your hormones, with your cycle, can cause more issues than benefits in his opinion. It's just not worth it.
While he is more than willing to get a vasectomy for you - something that is reversible for when the time comes that you do actually plan to try for children - you keep telling him that condoms are more than effective and it's not worth the recovery process at this point... ;)
3. Zayne is very easily persuaded by you in the heat of the moment.
If you didn't catch my drift from above... you are very convincing when asking Zayne to take the condom off and fuck you raw.
He won't do it before sex, no he won't do it before or during foreplay either. But let him slip inside, let him feel how soft and warm you are... or at least let him try because that oh-so-thin layer of latex his holding him back from so much... and then try asking... he'll slip it off in a heartbeat. Consequences be damned... he'll pull out... or at least try.
4. Zayne's diet and life style provide him with pretty healthy swimmers... even with his sweets intake.
Zayne eats good, works out, tries his hardest to get enough sleep. All because of you, all for you. He now treats his body with care, even though he can't resist those damn macaroons, his healthy habits tend to balance out his unstoppable sweet tooth. Making the overall quality of his sperm good, strong, and... well... eager.
5. Zayne has an incredibly high sex drive.
Listen... he's pretty insatiable. The more frequently you do it... the higher the risk... and I mean the second you convince him to take the condom off he is not slipping a new one on for the next round... rounds.
In conclusion, Zayne is the most careful among all the love interests. He is so precise with everything he does that it’s almost… bound to happen? Listen, fate has never been outwardly kind to this man so the irony would just be comical at this point. Not that he’d be upset!
Zayne would love to be a dad, so if it happened a little ahead of schedule? He’d welcome them with open arms.
Summary: Leon is the ideal boyfriend: loving, caring, attentive – but there is something he isn’t entirely experienced at. Sex.
Warnings: awkward and shy Leon, fluff!! Once again I present pathetic Leon, very awkward sex for the first time (don’t worry second time is better) p in v, muncher Leon, this man is obsessed with tasting you, creampie pie, multiple orgasms, whiny Leon, lovestruck puppy Leon, jealous Leon, semi-public sex in the bar bathroom, freak! Leon a bit of an angsty ending because we all know what happens next in RC
Note: fun fact, re2 Leon is actually my favorite Leon. Shocking, I know, since I mainly wrote for re9 so far and I’m sorry if this wasn’t the best but my grandma just passed so my family is taking it hard. So not proofread really. 8k words
Leon barely had time to mess around with relationships. He had one goal and focus in mind and that was getting through the police academy. This had been his dream since he was a child and saved by the police officer; some liked to say he was too focused on becoming a police officer that all life’s pleasures were passing through him. He didn’t believe that.
Until he met you.
It was a normal day going to his favorite coffee shop to study laws and the exams that were coming up at the academy. His nose has been stuck down in the books more than usual, his mind was focused on getting what he wanted. His surprise came when the familiar aroma of roasted coffee beans hit his nose and his eyes landed on you.
His brows pinched together. He expected the sweet old lady Mrs. Johnson to be at the counter, the old lady that ran the coffee shop with her husband. He glanced around to see where the older lady was but she wasn’t around. Concern filled him but what override him was the smile you had given him and the sweet sound of your voice.
His heart stammered in his chest and now he understood why his friends at the academy had told him that life was passing by him. He thought for the longest time he didn’t need a relationship and he could just wait until after he graduated but one look at you and he was a goner.
The moment he laid his eyes on you, his nerves were getting to him that he stumbled to his usual spot ( more like he tripped over his own feet and almost fell over a table ) and hid his face behind his police training book. The cafe blared I love you baby by Frankie Valli almost mocking him for how love struck he became with you.
He thought he was being subtle looking at you from across the cafe. He didn’t realize how ridiculous the sight looked – his eyes were peeking over the book staring intensely at you while you worked. He chewed on his bottom lip trying to muster the courage of what to say to you.
Truthfully, he’s never done this before. Sure, he had his awkward first kiss back in high school and crushes but never an actual girlfriend. He always thought he was too awkward for that.
Stop overthinking this and just go up to her, Leon thought. Fortunately for him, he didn’t make a fool out of himself because you decided to come up to him with a cup of coffee. He immediately sat up straight and began patting his hair, though he believed he flattened his hair too much so he began threading his fingers through his hair instead. Now his hair was too messy.
He didn’t have time to fix it when you showed up right in front of him. “Hi!” His voice was extremely high pitched, his cheeks burned before he cleared his throat, “hello.” his voice went deeper this time. Smooth, Leon.
A soft chuckle came out of you as you raised an eyebrow at his behavior. “Hello. Mrs. Johnson told me you’re a regular here and showed me what your order is. I know she always has it ready for you whenever you come in so I thought I’d do the same.” You explained, putting down his coffee order in front of him.
As if he didn’t fall in love immediately, he just did so even more. His eyes couldn’t help tracing down to your hands almost brushing near his clutching hands around his book before darting back to your face. She almost touched me!
“Y-yeah? I hope my order wasn’t too complicated for you. . .with the extra foam and all. . .” He mumbled. If he could die from the awkwardness, he would. “Where is Mrs. Johnson, anyways? It’s unlike her to not show up to work.”
“She had surgery and won’t be able to work for the next couple months so she trained me to take over during that time. She’s friends with my parents so I got to take over for her.”
“Oh, so basically nepotism?” Leon joked. He thought for a moment he must have said the wrong thing. His jokes never land with hardly anyone but a soft snort came out of you and he visibly relaxed. “I hope she will be okay.” He added, he cared about Mrs. Johnson since she was the closest to a mother figure for him. He noted that he would visit her soon.
“Basically, the only way you can get a job right now.” You agree and nervously put your hands behind your back. “So, you’re going to see a lot more of me when you come in.”
This is your chance to see if she’s interested in you. He tried to puff out his chest in confidence.. “Then I have more of a reason to come.” Leon flirted with a shy smile. “Just to see how you’re settling in.” He added in a lie, he just wanted to come see you.
You darted your eyes away shyly for a moment and smiled to yourself. “I look forward to your inspections. . .Officer Kennedy.” You teased, looking back at him.
His face turned red. Officer Kennedy. He wasn’t an officer yet but the way you said it; he can listen to your voice calling him that all the time. He was almost sure that hearts were appearing over his head from how his eyes were soft and big looking up at you from his seat. “O-Oh, I’m not an officer yet! I’m trying to be but it takes time and a lot of studying. If you want to call me Officer Kennedy, you can. Or if you just prefer to call me Leon that’s fine too. . .” He cringed at himself for rambling on.
The bell rang from another customer walking in. Disappointment filled him knowing you’d have to leave to tend to the counter. “I’m sorry for rambling.” Leon muttered.
“No, it’s okay. It was cute,” you turned around to head towards the counter but not before looking over your shoulder to give him one last smile, “I will see you around, Leon.”
A goofy grin spread on his lips. Cute, she thinks I’m cute. He excitedly grabbed his coffee, it was a habit to see what was written on the cup and his breath hitched in his throat. A phone number more specifically your phone number. His thumb subconsciously trace against the numbers and he couldn’t wait to start coming more often to see you.
A couple months passed and it took a while for Leon to ask you out on the second month. You agreed easily. Mrs. Johnson vouched for him and constantly talked about him whenever you were around him before you met him and you were intrigued about Leon.
Suffice to say, Leon lived up to what others have said about him. Caring, generous, attentive and loving. He’s practically the man of your dreams. He always gave you space to express your emotions when you were unhappy with something he had done. He listened carefully from the feedback and immediately corrected his behavior. He made it a habit to bring you lunch and make you lunch with little encouraging notes.
He was a gentleman by always paying for dates. He would run out of his jeep and come to your door so you wouldn’t have to open it. One time he carried you when your feet were hurting from the high heels you were wearing on a date and he claimed it was good for his workout routine anyways.
But there was a downside of dating Leon.
He never wanted to do anything more than kissing. At first you understood that perhaps he didn’t want to do more with how he would brush off the thought of having sex with you. Perhaps he was shy or was the type of guy that waited till marriage. But his actions always contradicted those thoughts of yours.
Constantly, you found yourself in the back of his jeep on his lap making out with him. His needy whines muffled against your lips, his hands splaying on your hips alternating between gripping and kneading grinding his hips desperately up against yours to seek friction.
And when you want to take it further, he’ll pull away and make a pathetic excuse about how he had to take you home and go study the police training book some more. So you had to ask what has been in your mind the past couple months, “do you not want to have sex with me? It’s fine if you don’t, I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you’re not comfortable with but it seems like you want to do more. Like I said, you don’t have to have sex with me but it just feels like you’re holding back for some reason.” Now it was your turn to ramble when Leon was usually the one to go on his stammering ramblings when he was nervous.
Leon frowned and then bit his puffy lips nervously. “O-of course I want to have sex with you!” He practically squeaked out, his fingers flexing around your hips trying to ground himself or figure out how he wanted to explain himself; perhaps both with how quiet he went. “I just. . .” He took a deep breath, “I just want it to feel good for you.”
“It will.” You promised and pressed a soft, chaste kiss against his nose. “You won’t disappoint me.”
Oh, how wrong you were.
First times were always awkward. That was a given for a new relationship when you’re so utterly in love with the person. It started off as good going back to his apartment and the session started like this; Leon laid you down on his bed ever so gently kissing you softly trying to memorize every detail of your lips then it’s like he couldn’t stand it, his kisses turned needy and passionate.
His teeth nipping at your skin, his tongue tracing any part he can taste. Clothes were thrown somewhere in the bedroom where skin was finally exposed. You admire the way the soft yellow fluorescent glow illuminated against the ridge muscles he proudly had been working on. But Leon? His eyes couldn’t take his eyes off you entirely.
His eyes darted from your face down to your naked body. The soft swell of your breast, the curve of your hips down to the gathering slick coating around your pussy. Most of all his eyes darted back to your face and softness filled his eyes holding so much love you thought he might propose to you right there.
No, instead he finally entered inside of you. The stretch made you furrow your brows since it had been a while you had something inside of you. The hopes that this would be the most romantic first time with Leon were squashed immediately from reality. Leon barely moved his hips just staying still above you. Perhaps he needed a moment?
You tried to capture his lips into a kiss instead your lips were puckered in the air and his head was nuzzled inside your neck. Okay, so maybe he was shy being inside of you for the first time? That was fine since it was the first official sexual encounter. You expected Leon to start really moving his hips and waited for it. Small little thrusts were made and shaky little whines came out of his lips.
He was bigger than your first boyfriend, his cock dragging against your walls. It wasn’t enough to satisfy you despite it being nice for what it was. Was this it? You thought, the only pleasurable experience you were getting out of this was from his soft little whiny praises he was giving you.
Leon was enjoying this while you weren’t. You felt terrible for pretending to moan for him realizing how quiet you were while he was the one making the most noises out of the two of you. It ended as soon it started, he had his orgasm in the condom and you, well, had to fake one just to make him feel better.
“How was it?” Leon questioned through soft pants.
You strained a smile at him. “It was. . .great!”
Your chest tightened from lying but you couldn’t bear to sadden him from how disappointed you were from his performance. Now, you were only left with your thoughts; what the fuck were you going to do now?
Several days passed and you were stuck in your thoughts trying to figure out what to do about the terrible first time you had with Leon. You went to your friends for advice and that might have been a terrible idea since their first response was to break up with Leon.
The thought did occur for two days while you avoided Leon at the cafe making the other girl work your shifts and actively avoided his calls. Was sex a good reason to break up with someone? Perhaps if the sex was terrible and Leon was terrible but he was only terrible at sex. Everything else he would be considered husband material by the aunties, Mrs. Johnson already believes so.
It would be immature just to break up with Leon and not tell him the real reason. Communicating the problem would be easier, you were about to head out and go find him at the diner he would go to after he would hang out with his friends ( his schedule was predictable from how adamant he was from not changing his routine until he met you ).
You barely opened the door and you felt someone wrap their arms around your waist and bury their face against your stomach. You almost screamed bloody murder and was about to reach for the baseball bat near your door to ward off the perpetrator until you looked down and saw Leon.
He was on his knees, his face buried against your stomach while his eyes were peeking up at you soft and big like a puppy. “Why haven’t you been answering my calls? I’ve been worried. Did I do something wrong? If I did something wrong, I can fix it. Please let me fix it. I don’t want you to ignore me.” He went on a muttering tangent rambling, holding you closer against him afraid you would leave him.
“Leon-”
“I know I can be much at times and I focus too much on becoming a police officer. I’m sorry if I neglected you-”
“Leon-”
“I deserve whatever punishment you’re willing to give me. If you don’t want to see my face ever again, I completely understand-”
“Leon.” The firmer scolding of your tone made Leon blink and perk his head away from your stomach to look up at you. Your eyes softened from the worry etched on his face. Your throat tightened from the guilt of ignoring Leon and making him spiral like this. “You didn’t do anything wrong. . .” That wasn’t entirely true. “Come, stand.” You gently helped him up and he wobbled up taking your hand and lacing his fingers through them.
You shut the door behind him and took him to sit on the couch. “Then what’s wrong?” Leon questioned with a head tilt.
You sucked in a deep breath. How were you going to let him know he sucked at sex? You didn’t know why you were overthinking this, he’s a grown ass man. He pays taxes and drinks alcohol, he can handle the truth. “Leon, I say this with love,” you started squeezing his hand, “I love you, I really do but when we had sex, I. . .” You had to rip the band-aid just to tell him the truth, “IfakeanorgasmbecauseIwasscaredtodisappointyouandIthoughtitwasreallyawful.”
Leon blinked for a moment from how fast you were speaking that he almost didn’t catch what you were trying to say. He got used to when you talked like this during your nervous ramblings because it clinked inside of him and he stayed quiet for a long moment. You noticed the tip of his ears turning red and his eyes darted away from yours for a moment.
“Oh.” He muttered.
“Leon. . .”
“W-was I really that bad?” Leon questioned, looking back at you with a dejected look. “Why didn’t you say anything, baby? You know I value your opinion even if it’s hard to hear at times.”
You sighed and shrugged, tracing your thumb against the back of his hand. “With my previous boyfriend, he was bad at sex and whenever I brought it up he would throw a fit and said he’s doing it like how he saw in porn videos so I just didn’t want to upset you.”
Leon stared at you. Like really stared at you. The mention of your ex-boyfriend made him want to roll his eyes just because he hated hearing about that guy and each time he heard about him, it was something awful and new. But to think you had to shield your comfort away from him? He was offended.
“First of all, I’m not your dumbass ex,” Leon deadpanned, squeezing your hand before gently pulling you onto his lap, “Secondly, learning from porn is just straight up stupid when all of it is fake no wonder he’s such a loser who couldn’t keep you. Thirdly, how many times have I told you that you can tell me anything and as much as I don't want to hear it or feel hurt, I still want you to tell me.”
Guilt swarmed through you entirely. “I know, I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry for making our first time terrible.” Leon said with embarrassment, wrapping his arms around you to hold you against him. “It was my first time with anyone really. I never experienced this,” he gestured to the both of you, “before. I never cared to be in relationships because my only dream was becoming a police officer until I met you. You became part of my dream and if you’re unhappy then I am too.”
You shyly smiled and felt your heart stammer inside of your chest. And here you thought you were going to break up with him over something was dumb as sex. “You’re mad then?”
“Mad?” Leon questioned with a shake of his head. “More like embarrassed.” He leaned in and peck his lips against yours, “next time, I promise I’ll do better.”
Leon was on a spiral. How the fuck was he going to do better at having sex? He wasn’t going to seek out porn like your dumbass ex did. It was hard to focus during training class, he kept falling on his face during drills which got him severely yelled at. He kept fiddling with the picture he had of you in his pocket, his friends always laughed at him for being overly in love with you but it grounded him.
It was breaktime with his friends and the topic of sex came around somehow. Ugh, I don’t want to think about that, Leon thought hearing his friends crazy stories about the encounters they had or what they have done to the girl. He was quietly absorbing information munching on his food you had prepared him until the focus went on him.
“Huh? What about me?” He questioned with a higher voice.
“What about you, Kennedy?”
“Got any stories with your experience?”
Leon almost wanted to get snappy with them for even daring to ask him that question. He wasn’t going to tell him how tight you were or how you were Aphrodite reincarnated beneath him. That was for his knowledge alone. A true gentleman doesn’t tell anyone else about their partner’s body that way, his grandma embedded that in his head from when he was a teen.
But, he could turn the question around and ask for advice without talking about your body. “Actually, I was wondering how you make a woman feel pleasurable in bed?”
His friend, Jake, raised an eyebrow and snorted. “Is that a subtle way of saying you sucked ass in bed and need advice.” He stated more than questioned Leon.
“Hypthoetical situation.” Leon countered with a blush. “Just asking a question.”
“Right, hypothetical." Jake deadpanned. “I’m going to tell you how to pleasure a woman and you better listen carefully for the next time you see her. After you listen to this and use it, she will never get off your dick.”
Leon rolled his eyes and tried to hide a smile forming. He didn’t only care about having sex with you but the thought of you always on him made him take out his note book and write down what Jake was telling him. His face kept turning redder throughout the whole conversation but he was determined to make the second experience with you better than anything you will ever get.
Leon spent days reading over his notes and admittedly he went to the bookstore to buy a book about female anatomy. If you thought he was too engrossed in studying his police training manual, he was worse when it came to studying how to please a woman.
He felt confident enough to make this experience for you better than the last. He just didn’t expect it was going to be today. After he got out of training, his friends asked him if he wanted to go to the bar; at first, he refused and told them he was going to hang out with you but once they told him they invited you as well to join he perked up and told them he would go.
He ignored the jabs of how much of a love struck puppy he is and practically bounced to his car. Confidence filled him from learning how he can please you better and he couldn’t wait to see you at the bar.
Arriving at the bar, he felt severely under dressed from his casual clothes he was wearing. He almost didn’t care until his eyes landed on you and his breath hitched. There you were sitting with the rest of the friend group wearing a dress he had never seen before; the crimson dress hugged every curve tightly and the low neckline swelling around your breast made his cock twitched in his boxers.
He didn’t care he was acting like a virgin by becoming hard at the mere sight of you. His thoughts were already dying on trying to test on what he learned. You noticed him, giving him that smile that made him want to drag you away from everyone or take you in front of everyone; he didn’t care – he just needed you.
Leon took a shaky breath and forced himself to follow his friends. He barley greeted the rest of his friends while he made his way towards you. His hands reached out and grasped your face placing little kisses all over your face (cheek, forehead, nose, lips), he wasn’t one for displays of affections yet the thought that anyone could think for a moment they can have you was dead wrong.
Your name fell off his lips easily as he planted another soft kiss. A friend groaned and rolled their eyes at him telling him to get a room. Oh, he would soon; he just couldn’t jump the gun yet. “Hey, how’s my pretty girl doing today?”
You giggled through each ticklish kiss and rolled your eyes playfully. “Another boring day at work. I’m ready to drink and forget about it.” You patted the seat next to him, this was the quickest he sat down on any surface.
Leon had a feeling his friends were regretting inviting you along because when you were around, his only focus was on you. And tonight, it completely was as rounds of drinks came. Jokes and stories were being told around while more drinks were being disturbed, it must have been the third round and he was feeling a bit tipsy.
You quit since someone needed to take care of Leon from how light weight he was. That didn’t stop you becoming tipsy and told him you were going to the bar to get a soda instead. He nodded staying in his spot and downed another drink, he scrunched his nose from the taste and felt his cheeks flushing.
His eyes didn’t leave your figure making sure no one would bother you while you were trying to order a drink. Safety reasons, too many things can happen at a bar. And, god, he was right because someone didn’t get the memo with his displays of affections earlier and came up to you. His fingers flexed around the glass and stared from afar assessing whether or not the man was harassing you.
At first it seemed innocent talk between two strangers until he noticed the way the man leaned in too close for Leon’s liking. An ugly tight feeling ached in his chest, he was sure that the glass would have broke in his hands if he was stronger. The stranger was good looking; he looked a bit older than you and Leon, and he couldn’t help the insecure feeling clawing in his chest.
It was obvious the man wanted more than just to get you a drink. The way his green eyes darted across your dress clearly landed on the swell of your breast. His fingers are inching too close to yours. He feared you would rather be this stranger than him. That you would leave with him to experience actually good sex rather the pathetic excuse he had given you.
No.
He wouldn’t stand for that. “Yo, Leon, you good bro?” His friend asked in concern from the way Leon’s jaw was tense and his glare looked like he could kill someone.
“Peachy.” Leon stated, standing up and walked over to the bar. Purposefully Leon grumbled and squeezed his way between you and the stranger, shoving his way in the space. “There you are my beloved, sweet, beautiful girlfriend,” he said, giving the guy a glare and a once over with a scrunched up nose, “Bud light? Terrible taste in alcohol. I believe that says a lot about a person if you enjoy that so, goodbye.”
And because Leon was utterly petty, he pushed the drink the stranger had purchased you. The liquid contents sloshed over and spilled over the guy’s pants. “What the fuck?” He shouted, angrily.
“Oops, I had too much to drink. Forgive me.” Leon replied with a tight smile then turned towards you grabbing your hand and hauling you away from him. “Let’s go.”
“Leon, where are we going?”
Leon didn’t reply. His jaw kept tensing and pushed through the crowded bar, he didn’t notice how much fuller it had got in the past hour - he was too busy looking at you the entire time. He led you towards the back into an empty bathroom and pulled you inside, locking the door behind you with a deafening click. “Leon, you don’t have to worry about him mrph-” His lips crashed into yours and his hands were on your waist pressing you back into the door.
Each time you tried to call his name, his lips were determined to quiet you down and nip his teeth at every inch of flesh. His hands roamed up towards your breast and squeezed around the swelling feeling them overflow out of his hands with a groan. “I do have to worry about him.” He mumbled against your lips, trailing them down under your jaw as he tilted his head down to capture the skin between his teeth to suckle the skin. “You might leave me for him. He might be more experienced than me and I can’t have that.”
Each harsh suckle on the column of your throat made you whimper and slick began to form uncomfortably on your lace panties. He was never this rough with you. His touches always consist of gentleness; not this time. “I won’t let him have you.” His voice grumbled against your neck before pulling away, staring down at you with a half-lidded gaze and puffy lips, “I can’t let him have you.”
“Leon, I didn’t entertain him. I promise.” You reassured him through soft whines from his thumb tracing the exposed flesh peeking out of the neckline of your dress. “You know I don’t want anyone else besides you.”
“I know.” Leon mumbled. “I just hate the thought that some other guy can pleasure you the way you expected me to.”
“Leon. . .”
He shook his head and roamed his hands down the edge of your dress. He knew that it was a crazy idea to fuck his girlfriend in the bar’s bathroom where you deserved to be loved properly on a bed but he needed to prove to you he can please you. “I learned what I should do. I studied how to make you feel good.”
“You studied?” You deadpanned with a small snort then you inhaled a shaky breath seeing him bunch up your dress up to your waist exposing the white lace fabric that was soaked.
“Don’t act surprised, studying is my strong suit especially when it comes to wanting to please my girl.” Leon shifted down to his knees to the floor. Normally, this would have disgusted him being on the bar’s bathroom floor, luckily, the alcohol in his system was overriding whatever disgust and logic in his head. “Please, just let me show you what I learned.”
How can you deny Leon when he was acting whiny for your attention? Especially the way his half-lidded eyes were staring up at you, his large hands gripping your thighs already spreading them apart to the point he placed your leg on his shoulder. He really wanted to make it up to you for how terrible he was last time and truth be told, you wanted to see what he learned.
You nodded. “Fine. But if we get caught, I'll beat your ass later.”
“Sounds reasonable.” Leon said, eagerly. Before he can get too eager, he forced himself to calm down. He couldn’t let last incidents happen again from his eagerness so he took a deep breath and turned his head to the side pressing a kiss against your inner thigh. A twitch under his lips.
This was a good sign. He continued alternating between kisses and sucks on your thighs. He felt your leg shake on his shoulder and those needy little whimpers he loved to hear so much. Progress so far, better than last time.
He took his time with each thigh until he was satisfied with the marks he had left on your skin. Leon pulled away with soft pants and looked back down towards the white lace that was obscenely becoming wetter around your folds that he can practically see through it. “You’re so gorgeous.” He praised softly.
Last time, he was too impatient to taste you. This time, your needs were his priority now that he learned what to do. His face leaned in and his nose was deep against your clothed cunt; he inhaled deeply and rolled his eyes back from the scent of you. “I was dumb enough to not take my time with you because, fuck,” he groaned against your pussy, pulling you forward just to stuff his face deeper against you, “how did I neglect you like this?”
You opened your mouth to respond though no words were formed because his eager tongue darted out and began tasting you through the fabric. You watched his eyes flutter more and almost loud whines escaped his lips; he wasn’t tasting your bare pussy and you could only imagine how he would react once he did,
His tongue darted out and traced the clit. A gasp came out of you and your hand shot out to grasp his head. A smug smirk came on his lips, “I was told that this was the part that would make you scream for me. I wanna test that theory out.” His lips latched onto the nub through the wet fabric and obscenely began to suck eagerly on it to elicit those moans out of you.
Leon was right about his theory. Shaky moans poured out of you while your fingers held onto him tighter trying to ground onto anything. “Y-you really did learned from last time.”
A chuckle rumbled against your pussy. “Told you.” Then, he took his time with you. His mouth suckled on the nub through the fabric for a long time. The saliva overcoats your wetness and the fabric stuck too uncomfortably now on your pussy that was clenching around nothing. His thumbs were tracing on your outer thighs holding you in place against the bar door.
The muffled sounds of the music overflowing outside and loud talking brought him relief that no one could really hear them unless you pressed an ear against the door. He didn’t need to be kicked out of the police academy for wanting to please his woman.
There was a shakiness on his shoulder from your leg. The impending orgasm was filling your entire body. It wasn’t like last time where you pretended to orgasm around him, he can noticeably tell the difference from last time. Your alternating moans and whimpers were becoming increasingly high-pitched rather than bored. Your fingers were digging into his scalp though he oddly enjoyed it. You were chasing the pleasure instead of just laying there and taking it disappointedly.
“Le0n, fuck, I’m going to cum.” You warned bucking your hips against his mouth. Without another warning, a white hot flash seized through your entire body and y0u had to bite your lower lip to hold back the loud cries. Cum seeped out of your pussy coating the white lace fabric to the point you were sure there was no use wearing them from how transparent the material is.
Leon had to agree. He can see your pussy now and satisfaction filled him from what he had learned. Jake told him to always focus on the clit because some women didn’t feel pleasure from penetration, they needed stimulation to help them orgasm. “I did it.” He muttered more in amazement to himself.
Now Leon was entirely pussy drunk. One hand moved from your thigh and pulled aside the overly wet material to the side to get a glimpse of your fluttering folds and drenching hole. “Holy fuck, I should have done this the first time for you. I’m sorry, baby. I need to make it up to you.” You almost wondered what he meant until his lips latched around your clit once again.
Overstimulation filled you immediately. You tried to pull your hips away from his suckles, “wait, Leon. I’m sensitive, you can’t just-”
“I know.” Leon mumbled against your clit, rolling his eyes as his tongue stuck out tracing his tongue down from your clit to your fluttering cunt capturing around the soppy fluttering folds for a moment. Wet, tight and warm; he was definitely mad at himself for not doing this the first time. “I’m counting on you to have another one for me.”
You created a monster.
Leon pried your thighs apart more and stuck his tongue deeper inside of your hole. Contrasting walls were fluttering around his tongue and his nose was nuzzling against your clit. He didn’t care how wet his face was, all he cared about was the taste of you. Determined to show you what he had learned. Determined to make sure the stranger at the bar that flirted with you would never please you in the way he can.
He prided in himself for how the noises that should have been there the first time were real and genuine this time. And if he could bottle up those moans and high-pitched whines that were threatening to become screams, he would and would jerk off to it every chance he got.
Fuck the police academy when his dream was right here. And god, his dream sounded so good for him. “Please, don’t run away from me.” He whined, holding you firmer against the bar bathroom door. “I need to do this for you.”
His tongue continued its borderline savage attacks in your cunt. He didn’t allow any traces of wetness to escape him. Slurps and slicking sounds came from his mouth; one thing that you discovered about Leon, he was a very messy eater. Spit and wetness dribbled down the corner of his lips down his chin where it dripped, dripped, dripped staining his shirt.
Since Leon didn’t give you any time to recover from the last orgasm, the impending one was at its brink. You can practically feel the smug smirk on his lips noticing now what the signs were that y0u were about to cum. “Look at my pretty girl, I know you want to cum.” He mumbled snaking one hand to lay flat on your lower stomach and played with your clit with his thumb to add the extra stimulation. “Don’t deny yourself. I know you wanted this for months. Just cum for me, I need to hear those pretty noises again.”
The soft command of his voice shouldn’t turn you on this much but it did. Your eyes rolled back as you tilted your head to the side. Your entire body shaked and you were chanting his name; the coil in your stomach snapped and another flood of wetness entered straight into his mouth. “Mhm, my good girl.” He mumbled, darting his tongue out watching the wetness drip down fat globs onto his tongue. He closed his mouth and whined from the taste.
“Do you think you can come inside a bottle for me so I can taste it whenever I want to?” He questioned with a head tilt.
“What. . .Leon!” You scolded, embarrassed looking down at him but he merely grinned and shrugged. “You’re a freak.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t deny me.”
“No, Leon.”
His lips quirk into a genuine frown. “Why not? Is it so wrong to want to taste my girl’s cum on the go?” He questioned tapping your sensitive pussy with his hand.
“It is, Leon.” You replied, trying to hide a smile threatening to form. “Maybe another time.” You agreed and if he was a dog, his ears would have perked up at that. Your hips twitched away from his and he got the memo. He needed to give you a moment to recover.
Leon pressed a final kiss to your pussy then gently pulled your leg off his shoulder back onto the ground. Not before pulling off your panties and pocketing them for later. He almost snorted seeing sneakers instead of heels that he barely noticed until now, typical since you broke your last heels on the last date. He made a note to get you new ones.
He groaned from his knees aching being on the ground for a while and stumbled against you. His chest hit your face and the mere contact made his cock twitch. He was so focused on you that he forgot about his straining erection he had the entire time. His hand planted on the side of your head and looked down at you.
His heart fluttered in his chest. Your hair stuck to your skin, your eyes were glossed over with tears he just noticed brimming in the corner, and your lips parted trying to catch your breath from cumming twice.
Instinctively his hips pushed forward and grinded his jeans against your stomach. His eyes rolled back from the friction of fabric rubbing on his weeping slit that he whined. “I did good, right?” He questioned, desperately and pathetically, “I deserve a reward for making you cum twice? Please give me a reward for making you feel so good.”
Something about Leon being pathetic and whiny undid you. Overstimulation still lingered, though he proved himself that he can please you. He did deserve a reward for being a good boy. “Fine but we’ve been in here long enough to arouse suspicions.”
“Oh, our friends definitely know we’re fucking.” Leon agreed, bringing his hands around the plush of your thighs and hauled you up quickly. Your eyes widened from his strength, you knew he had been working out more but the display of strength and how he picked you up without restraint made your pussy clench in anticipation and your legs wrapped around his waist. “And I h0pe that the asshole outside knows it too.”
Leon carried you to the edge of the sink and sat you on the edge. He didn’t waste time to unbuckle his belt and unzipped his pants. He pulled his jeans and boxers low enough below the curve of his ass for his cock to spring out. The weeping pinkish tip throbbed from the cold air and he softly hissed from the sensitivity. “I promise I’ll last longer than last time.”
“I hope because,” your hand reached out and wrapped around the cockhead swirling your thumb down to coat his flesh with his pre-cum, “I really want to feel you inside me. You already took care of me, now it’s time to reap your reward.”
Leon’s hand reached out to the edge of the sink to hold himself together before he fell apart. He couldn’t allow disappointment to happen again. He needed everyone to make sure his woman didn’t need another man to fuck her properly. His dick would be the only one that would make her feel good.
“I intend to.” Leon growled out, his other hand shot out to grab your hand away from his cock and forced your legs to spread further on the sink to accommodate his frame. He rested the underside of his dick against your sopping folds and dragged between them to lubricate his flesh further. His eyes fluttered from the sight allowing himself a few more seconds of this before capturing his cock at the entrance. “Are you sure I did good? You didn’t fake it this time?”
“I’m sure, Leon.”
“Good because I need another orgasm out of you.” Leon didn't give you a chance to respond as he pushed past the first ring of muscles. His forehead fell against yours and whined from how wet and tight you were around his cock. He almost wanted to slam into you until reality crashed on him. “Fuck, I didn’t bring a condom. I left them at home.”
“I’m not ovulating so I can take the morning after pill.” You replied.
His eyes darkened at that. He was so careful the first time wearing a condom making sure he wouldn’t get you pregnant. He wanted to properly take care of you by becoming a police officer, getting you a ring and buying you a house before children. “Oh, thank god. I didn’t think I could pull out.”
His hips pressed harder against yours until he was completely flushed against you. He was inside fully. This felt better without the condom latex and your pussy seemed to agree with how easily it swallowed him hole without restraint.
He can fully feel the wetness seeping down his cock. The clenching of your sopping folds around him that he took a moment to admire the stretch of your lips accommodating him. “I don’t think I can go back to fucking you with protection.” He admitted slowly dragging his hips back watching the pearlescent streaks of wetness clinging onto his skin in lewd strings before snapping. “This is the best reward I ever gotten.”
Because Leon was still overly eager. His hips slammed back into yours and he watched your breast bounce almost out of your dress; the elicit loud moan that came out of you almost made him want to cum there. He promise he would last longer so he gritted his teeth and really started to show you the techniques he learned studying those female anatomy books.
He took in Jake’s advice and began touching you. His hands were first on your bouncing breast thumbing your nipples beneath the dress to stimulate you once again. Last time, he barely touched you. Now, he couldn’t keep his hands off of you.
You almost couldn’t tell who was louder. Leon, you or the sounds of squelching where flesh met each other from your pussy. If the bartender found out you guys were fucking in there, you would be banned. You sure that wouldn’t be the first time that had happened in a bar though. It was worth the risk. Getting fucked properly this time, the aunties were definitely right this time.
He is married material.
He completely checked off all the requirements in your head for a future husband. The first time was a bump in the road. He proved himself that he can do better. And, he did. Each drag of his cock in you, his whiny pathetic praises he was giving you while one hand found its way down to your clit once again.
Leon never wanted to be embarrassed again.
His forehead pressed against yours and watched you with intense devotion. He was studying you now. He was learning what felt good if he thrust his hips a certain way. That thrust didn’t elicit the moan he wanted or the pinch of brows he was used to seeing. “I want to learn everything about your body, baby so does it feel good when I do this,” he thrust another way pressing at a certain spot that made your whine and tighten your legs around his waist, “fuck, yeah it does. I felt you clench around me tighter.”
Leon became a mad man finding the spot that was declared the g-spot for women. His hand left your breast and gripped the fat of your thigh instead while his other hand kept stimulating the throbbing nub. “Now that I know what makes you feel good,” he began pulling you against him harder and faster, “I want to see you cum on my cock properly this time.”
A particularly loud moan escaped your lips and Leon captured his lips against yours to muffle continuous noises happening between the two of you. He didn’t want you to get in trouble though he was sure once you both left, you won’t be allowed back at this bar.
His thrust were becoming sloppy now. The orgasm that was building inside of him was threatening to explode. Heavy pants pressed against your lips and his thumb continued their ministrations needing you to come with him. The obscene slick slick slick formed a creamy white base on his cock and he knew you were going to come once again for him.
“Come on, I know you can give me another one.” Leon mumbled between kisses and brought his lips to the corner of your eyes from the tears forming there. “You’ve done so good for me before. Your pussy is begging for another orgasm, just give her what she wants. Give me the reward I want.”
“Fuck, fuck,” You cried out furrowing your brows tighter together as your legs were shaking around his waist unsure if you needed him to stop or keep going from the tightening sensation in your stomach, “Leon, Leon,” you chanted and then another white hot flash seized through you entirely spasming and cumming hard around his cock. I can’t get enough of her pussy, he thought.
Leon groaned, feeling the creamy pearlescent wetness coat his cock. “There’s my girl, fuck, thank you, thank you.” He rambled thrusting a few more times. His cock throbbed while his hips spasmed and white ropes of seed flooded you entirely that he watched the cum seep out of the corners of your plugged hole. “So pretty.” He mumbled, rolling his hips a few more times and slumped against you.
It was quiet for a few moments. You never had intense orgasms like this in your life and somehow Leon being inexperienced was able to pull them out of you just from studying about it. His lips gently pressed against your cheek and he mumbled, “was that better than last time.”
“A million times better.” You chuckled, turning your head to kiss his cheek back. “And to think I was going to break up with you.”
Leon lifted his head at lightspeed and frowned at you. “You were going to break up with me because I was bad? Jeez, I know I was bad but not that bad.” He grumbled. “At least you have no reason to, and if you try to find another reason then I’ll just prove to you why you shouldn’t again.”
You laugh breathlessly at that. At least he wasn’t mad at the truth. No, Leon is a good man and boyfriend - there is no reason to break up with him. You were going to reassure him you wouldn’t dream of breaking up with him until a pounding sound of the door echoed in the bar bathroom. Both of you froze and stayed quiet.
“Yo, Leon,” Jake called out from the otherside, “you better get out of there! The bartender is going to come and kick you guys out.”
“Shit.” Leon muttered. “Thanks!” He called out and pulled out with reluctance. He hissed from his dick limping and the missed warmth of being inside of you. He watched for a moment transfixed by the way your pussy fluttered around nothing while cum seeped out.
He wanted to take a moment to push his cum back inside of you. But time wasn’t his friend, he helped you first by pulling down your dress and patted your hair and put himself away, buckling his belt again. “We better go before we get the cops called on us for public indecency.”
“We can’t have that on your record.” You teased patting his hair down, he fluttered at that. He offered to go first, but once he unlocked the door the owner of the bar was there instead of the bartender.
And both of you got a scolding of a lifetime. At least the cops weren’t called on you two.
Months later, Leon graduated from the police academy. He had chosen Raccoon City as his destination to be transferred there. You had gone a week ago to slowly move stuff into the new apartment but he had an odd call to stay away.
You had a bad feeling about this. You argued with Leon the entire day that he shouldn’t go. They obviously told him to stay away for a reason but his sense of justice overrides any logic he had.
“I don’t want to argue anymore. I’ll be back, I promise.” Leon said, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “I will just go up to see what’s going on and then I will come back for you.”
And you had to watch your boyfriend go without you because Mrs. Johnson was too weak to take care of herself still. Something bad was about to happen and yet all you can do is watch Leon drive off in his jeep; away from you.
It's something you've known for a while. He tried to keep it under wraps for your benefit, probably not wanting to freak you out. But it started to get obvious every time his fingers gently traced your back, admiring it so openly whenever he got the chance.
So, you started to suggest it more, happy to please him. Plus, you really like it too.
Well, except for one thing.
"Take-take it off." You gasp, nearly tearing a hole in the sheets with your nails. Zayne is pounding into you from behind, hips slamming into yours loudly. It feels incredible, but the thin latex preventing you from properly feeling his cock is really ruining the experience.
Huh, Zayne was right. It really is a slippery slope skipping the condom just the one time.
"What?" He slows his pace, still panting. You squirm, hating the feeling of your orgasm beginning to ebb away.
"Take the condom off! Please Zayne I need-I need to feel you." Your words are dripping with need as he pulls out, but then hesitates.
"You're ovulating right now, which means a higher chance of pre-"
You cut him off by reaching back, grasping the latex and quickly pulling it off him with a loud snap, tossing it aside. When he still doesn't move, you whine in urgency, pushing back against him and feeling his tip brush against your entrance. He hisses at the stimulation, grasping your hips to keep you in place.
"A-Alright." He chokes out, slipping inside you.
A few weeks later, the two pink lines are hardly a surprise.
Synopsis: Sebastian takes it upon himself to investigate your home while you sleep to get more insight into your character. The actual nsft part of this is very short.
Tags: Non-Con/Dub-Con Touching, (Sorta) Somno, (Sorta) Oral (Reader Receiving), Panties Stay On During Pervert Time
This is a part of a chapter for a longer Sebastian x Isekai!Reader fic I am working on. I wanted to get some opinions on this- it is pretty Reader-centric so I'm not sure how enjoyable it actually is to read lmao.
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“Pardon the intrusion.” Sebastian announced himself in a soft tone as he entered your home holding his own already-lit chamber candlestick holder. He closed the door smoothly behind him and clicked the latch shut. “I am here to collect payment for your rather unscrupulous attention this afternoon. As a gentleman, I cannot ignore the potential damages to my reputation that such a heated stare would stir.” He continued speaking to the dead night-air.
Before he continued his trek from your doorway to your living room, he stopped himself. Looking down curiously at the floor. Your shoes were neatly lined by the door just off of the rough carpet he stood on. Even more curious- there was an old icebox with the door removed, laying on its back and filled with sand. A deliberate display, perhaps you are superstitious?
He walked on.
“My Lord has not yet asked me to investigate you at your residence but I assume it is only a matter of time. Any Phantomhive Butler worth their salt would act before their master gives the order.” He slides a hand across the top of your loveseat and surveys the various books lining your shelves.
Books on history, scientific theory and politics feature cracked spines with ribbons peaking out from worn pages, indicating a sort of obsessive research. He pulls out one book on British history which seems to have suffered the most abuse. A collection published by Oxford University detailing the wins and misery of the United Kingdom which was released only last year. Your annotations and scribblings line the margins- in some instances you have even written down extensive notes on a loose sheet of paper and then folded it inside the page. The thin wood cover has been snapped, leaving half of it to hang limply encased in the scratched fabric. Sometimes your notes are curses, while the more elaborate scribblings propose historical corrections. Sebastian can sense that he holds the work of a madman in his hands, thumbing the torn edges of the paper in thought. He isn’t sure what this means but it is certainly a clue.
After sliding the book back into its place on the shelf- with more care than you have ever given it surely- and moves onto the small selection of books tucked into a corner shelf.
Several volumes of Yellow Books were lined by date on one end- and next to them…
“Oh my, what a naughty thing you are.” Sebastian chuckles to himself and picks up one of the erotic works.
“The Lustful Turk, what a classic.” He wishes you were able to hear his teasing. But opening the book it becomes apparent that you only read about 20 pages of it, and the paper which did flit between your fingers lacks the raving madness that possessed you in the History compilation. Sebastian grabs another book.
“Whippingham Papers, do you fancy yourself a Mistress?” He opens the book but is once again disappointed when your devoted touch is absent from the pages.
With a pout, he puts the books back and barely glances at the clearly enjoyed Penny Dreadfuls that make up the last of your written entertainment.
“Such a disappointing display of passion from the Lady who stared me down all day.” He sighs and walks into your kitchen.
And he is pleasantly surprised. Like the rest of your home, the kitchen is clean and orderly. You seem to favor wax paper wrappings, canned goods, and preserved meats.
"You have specific tastes, for someone who forgets to eat." He remarks in amusement. The kitchen goes beyond cozy homemaking- there is an edge of perfectionism and caution.
"You don't appear picky...in fact it has been some time since I have seen such a wordly-eater. But goodness, what on earth are you cooking that requires chainmail to help with the cleanup?" He closes the sink cupboard with it's scrubs and soaps. Sebastian can see it in the expensive metal utensils, the scrubbed and oiled wood cutting boards, the glass jars and their meticulous labeling. At least half of your income must be dedicated to your kitchen, and certainly half of your time. The edge of mania- paranoia even- touches every corner of the room. Sebastian feels a great deal of intrigue and satisfaction just looking at it. Simply put- game recognizes game.
He travels upstairs, looking at your minimal decorations. Some paintings, some dried flowers, plants, and items from abroad that he assumes were gifted to you or acquired at a discounted rate. Noticeably there are no personal affects. Commoners may not be able to afford paintings or photography but they still retained objects with memories- show tickets, childhood toys, craft work from a mother or grandmother- but your decorations lacked any sort of history. It was as if you inherited bits and pieces of human connection from others. His candlelight illuminates a mirror at the top of the staircase, it is the dirtiest thing in your home he has seen, the surface distorted with a layer of dust that is found no where else, highlighting its neglect.
The mirror in your bathroom is in better shape, slightly. But it is the least interesting aspect of the space. Once again, you favor jars and labels. Your beauty products follow the same trend as your kitchen, clean and cautious. There’s a preference for Chinese and Arabic products, a clear aversion to the arsenic-laden but popular European offerings. The notable exception being the German “Tanagra” dental products that occupied your vanity. Sebastian felt himself charmed and impressed. It was exceedingly rare to find such cultured hygiene habits in England, the Plague combined with the chokehold the Church had on the citizens led to a degradation of public and personal cleanliness. One that Sebastian was in a constant battle with in his current estate.
"You truly are after my heart, My Lady." Perhaps Sebastian would be able to use you as an example to his Master. The surly boy seemed to respect you well-enough, maybe he will curtail his whining when Sebastian pulls out the fluate paste.
He looked through your drawers and cabinets thoroughly, taking in your preferences for scent and aesthetic. Eclectic in source but harmonious in the application of it’s owner. It stirs an attraction in him, you have an artless style unmarred by popular influence, an effortless ownership. If every pot of rogue, bar of soap, and herbal comb is a piece of a puzzle then you are the assembler who makes a complete image out of random scraps. Sebastian resolves himself to studying your preferences further for his own application in decadence as he leaves the room.
Your living room displayed obsession, your kitchen held it’s breath with caution, and your bathroom a conveyance of confidence. All that is left is the most intimate place in your home- your bedroom. The place you have rested since he entered. Curiously, your door is wide open. He walks inside without a sound but his attention is drawn to your sleeping figure before he can take in the myriad of details. If Sebastian was more patient, he would have taken note of how vacant the room felt. Basic dresser and closet, clothes neatly arranged, a plant by the balcony. The door leading outside and the windows are all covered in thick drapes to keep the cold at bay. He would have found it odd that all of your jewelry is new and that you have an iron lock box shoved into the back of your closet. But Sebastian is impatient and approached your bed without a glance in any other direction.
Finally, the most important object of observation. Your reproach for him has made it difficult for Sebastian to properly study you. He sets down the candle holder, the stick is over a fourth of the way melted, he had been roaming your small home for an hour.
He used his clawed finger to lift the hair from your face, putting his nose inches from yours.
“Curious. And, is the rest of you like this as well?” He carefully pulls down the blankets- but pauses. You are in an unthinkable state of undress. Even a commoner woman would wear an ankle length chemise and with your occupation you would surely be able to afford one of great quality. But instead, you wore a summer undershirt with a low swooping collar. Even worse your nethers hid behind men’s boxers which were riding up your hips, leaving the entirety of your legs bare.
His mind reached. Were these your undergarments of choice for the day as well? Under your dress, were your nethers blocked only by a man’s thin bolt of cotton?
“I have noticed, My Lady, that not a single cross mounts your walls.” He raises your undershirt and looks at your chest, focusing on the skin that wraps your ribs and circles your nipples. He readjusts himself on the bed, rocking your body slightly as he straddles you, and uses his other hand to run his fingertips from the column of your throat down your sternum with agonizing restraint.
“They are quite the useless eyesore, aren’t they? At least you don’t bother yourself with such empty promises of protection. Deluding yourself into thinking you could be safe.” He coos out. Under him your heart quickens and your breaths shorten. His eyes watch the goosebumps raise on your stomach.
“Excited? I know,” His voice drops lower as do his hands, they graze the waistline of your boxers and pull them further up your hips so that the cotton presses against your pussy. “I have known since you fell in my arms. You are completely untouched by this world.” He feels his mouth watering.
The eerie magenta glow of his eyes highlights the puff of your pubic hair, the impression of your lips against the fabric, the faint but present wet spot at the center. He inhales deeply, presses the scent of you against the roof of his mouth and swallows the glob of spit at the back of his throat with an audible gulp. He exhales against your skin, warm and wet on your trembling abdomen.
“Shall I give you a reward for being so pliant? Or should I take my payment for being the object of your desire?” He lowers his mouth to your sex and licks.
Your entire body jerks under him, a squeak leaving your throat. Sebastian chuckles and traces his nose against the hood of your clit.
“So sensitive. Dare I even continue? I fear that even my influence wouldn’t be enough to keep you asleep, and you would wake up thrashing and begging for release.” He is open-mouth breathing against your mound, his fangs poking your skin through the boxers. “Maybe…instead I should try something more restrained.”
He is mumbling to himself but with his lips ghosting your sex, you feel every word. Your trembling legs closed around his head, unbidden.
“I should put your innocence to use. Stimulate your appetite so that you devour those neglected books of yours downstairs.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your pussy, sucking on the entirety of it through the boxers so that it presses against the flat of his tongue. With a wet pop he pulls away and admires the glistening spit mixed with your arousal. “And then just looking won’t be enough, you will be begging for a taste. Yes, let's do one more taste for tonight."
While he has resolved himself to one more lick, he instead once again puts his entire mouth over your pussy. He licks and sucks, trying to coax out your slick from between your folds so it can seep into the fabric and mix with his spit. Along with the wet sucking sounds, he releases the occasional groan. Your boxers are still held in his hands, stretched over your hips so that the fabric can dig into every nook of your pussy. He lavishes it until it throbs with want, plucks your clit with his teeth until it strains against the cotton.
"Trying to hide yourself in such loose garments, how is anyone supposed to know the delicious treat that is between your legs if you do not show it properly?" He chides you while stroking his tongue between your folds, shoving the cotton into your hole.
A 'last taste' becomes 15 minutes of sucking until your sex puffs out obscenely through your clothes.
When he is finally satisfied with the debauched and inviting appearance of your pussy, Sebastian gently unwraps your legs from his head and tucks your blankets back over your trembling body. He tuts at your face- eyebrows knit and eyelashes fluttering. He uses the back of his tattooed hand to caress your cheek, a final parting gift. The touch is mindless, neither sweet or threatening. The act is automatic, his body making one final skin to skin connection with yours for the night.
“Sweet dreams, My Lady.”
He blows out the candle on your bedside table, which is just a dim wick floating in a pool of wax, and disappears from your room along with the light.
You lay trembling in bed, waiting. It feels safe. It feels like you are alone. But you don’t know for sure so instead you just lay there with your eyes shut and your heart pounding. After what feels like an hour you roll onto your side and curl into a ball, releasing a frustrated sigh. Since you have been waken up by a demon praising your religious abstinence and then his promise to torture you in the future, you don’t think there’s much hope in going back to sleep now. Now you were caught in a terrible debate- masturbate now and risk getting caught or masturbate later when you know the demon will be stuck babysitting.
Cw: lycaon with baby fever, breeding, AFAB!reader, impregnation, pregnancy kink.
He caught himself staring again.
It couldn't be helped for it was that time of the year again. Even though he tried so desperately hard to suppress that more beastly side of him, now that he has you his suppressants hadn't been working as much as he hoped.
It already is annoying dealing with the thoughts of being a father of his own pups. It was merely a daydream since he's so busy with Victoria housekeeping with little to no time in his schedule for any children. But His rational thought waynes when he sees you being so good with young children.
Is it wrong to think about you in this way?
Your hair being disheveled, Your sleepy face with your belly about a couple months in. He knew he would take such good care of you. He would massage your shoulders, Make sure to help you get anything you have trouble reaching with your big stomach, Make sure he has made plenty of meals in the fridge when he leaves for work.
You squeeze him so good, especially when he presses his thumb on your clit to make sure you cum at the same time he does. So your creamy cunt can milk him instead of your womb. And thats when is swollen knot finally locks together with you, forgive him for being a little impatient when he grinds a little bit inside you. He just wants to make sure it takes.
It's not enough. He needs more. This will be the first time you hear him whine, before begging for another round. "Please master just one more?" how selfish of him, Lycaon will regret that he treated you like a fuck toy when he finally comes to his senses. But you didn't seem to mind.
Perhaps it is just his instincts talking but his attraction for you doubles when your body begins to change through pregnancy. He loves the fact that you rely on him more. He swears that your body becomes more soft. And you even smell different, sweeter with a node of milk.
His mind is filling with perverted thoughts again.
he’s an old man now, so don’t expect him to be coming at you with the same stamina as he used to.
his back will seize painfully, his hips will lock, his breaths will come sharper. his arms strain when he tries to hold himself above you, the veins bulging deliciously. inevitably, he’ll fall down, letting his head just rest in the crook of your neck.
but of course, that’s not to say that he still doesn’t fuck you mean. like he always has. like he always will.
he likes to have one arm wrapped around your back, manually arching you into him. he likes to keep his other arm against the mattress, hand gripping yours painfully, or clenching the pillowcase between his fingers so tight that his knuckles turn white.
and he loves to fuck you rough.
it’s not all that fast—god knows if he went as fast as he used to, his damn hip would pop out of place. so he makes up for his lack of speed with hardness. his hips meet yours in cruel, firm thrusts, rocking your entire body up the bed—your head hitting the headboard so often, you fear a concussion.
and his pace might not be quick, but it’s consistent. for a good bit, he could go just like that—strong hips pushing against yours, tip abusing your fucking cervix, coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of your spent pussy.
and it doesn’t help that he sounds so pretty too.
most of the time, he grits his teeth, hissing in your ear and letting little chesty grunts loose. he doesn’t feel that those needy moans would work coming from him at his age, but at his core, he’s always been weak for one thing—you. so when you ask him to be loud for you, tell you how good he feels, his lips will instantly part, jaw dropping for you and letting all those guttural noises spill out.
and when your cunt flutters around him, impossibly more turned on by his deep groans, a whimper sounds at the back of his throat. flustered, he’ll bite down on your shoulder—not hard, he’d never want to hurt you, but firm enough that your skin tingles beneath his teeth.
he doesn’t last as long as he did back then. where once he could go for hours, he can’t stave off his peak for longer than a half hour now—and that’s if he really tries. which, he hardly does. why should he, when you seem so eager for his cum anyway?
something that always speeds up the process is praise. with his age, he’s become a little more conscious of himself—his changing body, which you insist is sexier than ever before, but he remains stubborn in thinking he’s not good enough for you. older, tired, scarred up. so when he’s balls-deep, with sweat dripping from his temples and breath catching in his throat? and you’re breathlessly whining, “Making me feel so good, Leon— fuck, so good for me.” and, “You’re gonna make me cum..” ? He’s gone.
but sometimes, praise from you is just that glaze in your eyes—the cockdrunk gasps slipping from your wet lips, unfocused gaze and tremble in your thighs. visible signs that he’s making you feel good. no, better than good. fucking euphoric. and suddenly he’s gasping for air, hand flying down to your hip to grip it tight as his hips falter, filling you with all he’s got.
he also loves when you ride him. he feels a little less secure in this position, his body more visible to you, but once he gets you in his lap, grinding your hips against his, giggling out moans when his hips instinctively buck up into yours—he forgets all that. and he looks so pretty like this, laid back against the pillows, eyes struggling to stay open, brows drawing tight, lips inevitably falling open as he breathes shallowly. one of his hands on your waist, sometimes helping you bounce, others just resting there. the other is either gripping the sheets to ground himself, stave off his orgasm a little longer, or it’s on you—holding your face with visceral devotion, tucking hair that’s sweatily matted to your temple behind your ear. or on one of your tits, groping the soft flesh there desperately. reverently.
some things have to change. sure, he can’t fuck you like he could, can’t last as long as he could, and he’s not as confident anymore. but he finds ways around it.
he finished before you? he’s shuffling down the bed and stuffing his tongue between your legs for an hour minimum, flicking at your clit and thrusting into your cunt until you’re gushing all over his face. and when you think you’re done, numerous orgasms later, he’s rolling onto his back, pulling you with him and slotting you right onto his face—moaning deeply into you at just the position.
his hips aren’t moving fast enough? his hand is creeping between you, fingers working at your clit in rapid, smooth circles. he’d rub you just right, just how you like it, until your cunt clenches around his cock and leaves a white ring sheening it—and he still wouldn’t stop. you’re his girl—he knows you like it that way.
he’d do anything to make sure you stay satisfied. which, you always are anyway, more than. with a man like that, there’s no way you’re leaving his bed without a tremble in your steps and soreness to last you days.
felt like this was long overdue. i miss writing for leon🥹
HIIII CHINO HOW U ARE?!! 💗💗🫂💗 I also want the interesting things for Leiftan or any thing/fact about Leiftan I’m dying I need content of him 😭😭😭😭🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🫂 mabeibi ma beibi please I beg you sweetie, xoxooo love you sweetie!!
Heya ! I am fine thank you
I guess the easiest for me to tell about Leiftan is his all backstory who was actually and unfortunately never correctly exploited and explained in game.
Leiftan was a toddler during the time of the Blue Sacrifice.
The aengels didn’t want to sacrifice as planned, and for this reason they ended up being persecuted by the other faes.
Leiftan’s parents were killed, but before they died they put him in a stasis spell to hide and protect him.
An aengel survivor, Verom, ended up finding him. (Mowgli style XD )
Verom was weak after the persecution and he decided to establish himself at the Fountain of Youth in company of the Naiade nymphe who guarded the fountain. (She is linked to her fountain as hamadryades are with their tree.) She was a good soul and offered her help.
They cared for Leiftan, still in stasis at this point.
After some centuries, Leiftan’s soulmate was born and Leiftan not destined to be alone anymore, the freezing spell broke. Toddler Leiftan slowly awoke and started living again.
So he grew up with his adoptive parents. As soon as he could, Verom trained Leiftan into using aengel powers, and taught him about the Blue Sacrifice etc.
When he was still very young, a group of exploring humans found the fountain’s place by pure luck. They ended up trying to steal its water but in the fight they killed the Naiade. The fountain dried immediately and she turned to stone. There was just a little bit of water left, she could rejuvenate with a lot of time and patience, and hope.
And then we arrive when Leiftan was a young teen, some humans found the fountain again, but this time they knew what they were looking for. And these humans happened to be... leaded by Erika's father. He was looking for that youth fountain discovered years ago, Erika was sick and dying from some unknown disease (certainly related to her Fae genes), and that was the only way he knew that could save her. He wanted the remaining water.
They fought for it, of course. Charles kills Verom (he is an old man by now) and by taking the last drops of the fountain he also kills the Naiade.
With that bit of magical water with him, he and the soldiers left as he came. Thinking everyone dead.
But Leiftan was not, and he is left as a young daemon, partially trained and able to hide his nature. Full of anger and hate. Hate for both faeries and humans and this is his villain origin story.
(And so, Charles is the person who killed his parents, but also the one who saved his soulmate in doing so. How so tragic hehe.)
———————
Another thing is the potion they make Erika drink later in the story so they would forget about her on Earth.
It was Leiftan’s idea all along, he suggested it to Miiko. With this solution, he was sure Erika would have to stay by their side and he would do anything to keep her close to him. He then acted innocent around her.
And for those who might be mad at this revelation, sorry but don’t forget Leiftan has always been a villain and a good two faced one at this. (Especially in the earlier story)
¡¡TW!!: Menciones de muerte o muerte eminente. Asfixia. Pánico. Trauma. Angustia. Descripciones de ahorcamiento. OC. Son unas 1,7 k palabras, es corto
Hola, es el primer escrito que comparto sobre una Oc, ella es una Phantomhive, hermana de Vincent. Agnes es la dama de Maximiliane. Probablemente olvide muchas cosas
La humedad carcomía las piedras del calabozo, como el tiempo lo hace con un cadáver putrefacto. El moho cubría las paredes y el hedor a encierro se mezclaba con algo más allá del olor a desechos humanos. La decisión de encerrarla en esa fosa, privada de cualquier derecho que le correspondía por nacimiento, había sido una orden deliberada. Un último intento de la Corona por quebrar su orgullo y humillarla antes de si ejecución.
En medio de la celda, Maximiliane Phantomhive permanecía sentada con la espalda recta. Sus manos estaban cruzadas con calma sobre el regazo de su falda sucia, manchada por el barro seco.
No pronunciaba palabra alguna. No había gritado o pedido alguna explicación, ni había pedido ver a nadie, mucho menos llorado. Se había dejado arrestar sin ofrecer resistencia, mientras Ciel gritaba su nombre con furia infantil y Agnes bloqueaba el camino a los guardias. Solo bastó una mirada de su parte para hacerlos detenerse.
—Está bien. —había dicho, dándoles una última mirada.
Desde el día de su arresto se le prohibió contacto alguno. Agnes, Ciel, incluso su abogado... todos habían sido rechazados por un simple comunicado: "Son ordenes de Su Majestad, la Reina."
Distribución ilegal de sustancias no reguladas, ligado a un envenenamiento masivo. Un informe burdamente manipulado alegó que Maximiliane usaba su laboratorio y conocimientos para experimentar con la plebe; algo irónico, considerando que su botica bridaba consultas y medicamento casi gratuitos a los más desamparados en el East End. Pero ella había sabía la verdad, aquellos químicos eran los compuestos experimentales que Ciel había utilizado en su última misión. Un cabo suelto que había salido catastróficamente mal.
Si ella hablaba, arrastraría con ella al Perro Guardián de la Reina. A su sobrino.
La Reina había firmado en tinta seca su condena, sellada en secreto, con una orden silenciosa y fría declarándola culpable. Merecedora de la pena de muerte, la horca. Una condena extraña para una mujer de su posición, calculada para destruir el apellido Phantomhive poco a poco.
Aun así Maximiliane no dijo nada. Su silencio fue escudo para proteger a su sobrino, y también el ultimo clavo de su ataúd.
En la oscuridad más densa del lugar, materializado como una sombra entre oscuridad, Sebastian Michaelis la observaba. Él no necesitaba luz. Sus ojos, escarlatas y fijos, registraban cada matiz: la respiración cadenciosa, su piel ensombrecida por el hollín y esa mirada ausente que ya ni siquiera parpadeaba con frecuencia. Solo su pulso, traidor y oculto, acelerado bajo la piel de su cuello, confesaba el temor que su expresión no delataba.
Había una parte de la naturaleza de Sebastian que saboreaba este momento. Algo en él deseaba ver si ella, siendo tan férrea, tan magníficamente soberbia, se quebraría aunque fuera un instante ante la inminencia de la soga. Quería escucharla suplicar, quería que el miedo la obligara a buscar en él la salvación que tantas veces le había ofrecido.
Pero Maximiliane se negaba a doblegarse.
Hasta que una noche, entre las gotas de agua cayendo por la grietas del techo, Maximiliane hablo para sí misma, sin levantar la voz.
—¿Sería demasiado tarde como para maldecirlos?
No hubo rabia, ni ironía. Fue más bien como quien recuerda un vieja historia de la infancia. Una vieja amenaza o rumor que finalmente la había alcanzado.
Y ante sus palabras, una risa suave, profunda se perdió entre los muros del calabozo.
El amanecer no trajo luz, la niebla seguía cubría el suelo del patio interno como un velo en luto. El aire olía a humedad, hierro y resignación.
Las ejecuciones ya no eran públicas. Las multitudes sedientas de morbo habían sido reemplazadas por funcionarios de mirada gris, que por protocolo, asistían como testigos fieles a la Corona.
Los pasos de Maximiliane resonaban con un ritmo calmo en las escaleras de piedra, como si no temiera a su destino. Iba vestida con un sencillo vestido, desprovista de joyas o símbolos de su linaje. Sin embargo su pulso como un traidor leal, era rápido, seco; palpitaba como si intentara escapar por su tráquea antes de que fuese demasiado tarde.
Los hombres que esperaban, el verdugo, un juez asistente, el notario real y un guardia armado. Todas evitaban mirarla.
Bajaban los ojos y giraban sus rostros, no por respeto, pino por miedo. Maximiliane Phantomhive no parecía una prisionera. Uno de ellos incluso hizo la señal de la cruz en su pecho, como si bastara para ahuyentar una maldición.
—No la mires a los ojos, podría maldecirte con un destino igual. —Los había escuchado murmurar.
Los rumores, esparcidos como peste en los pasillos y callejones de Londres durante años, habían pesado más en la balanza que cualquier prueba de su inocencia.
Maximiliane se detuvo frente al patíbulo. Subió con dignidad, sin necesidad de ayuda o escolta; ni el verdugo se atrevía a ponerle una mano encima. El viento helado soplaba con fuerza, arrastrando consigo un susurro que parecía contener cientos de voces apagados por el tiempo.
Ella los escucho. O creyó hacerlo.
La soga descendió por sus hombros. Se sentía áspera, húmeda e impregnada del hedor rancio de otras ejecuciones. Olio el miedo, la desesperación impregnada en el cáñamo; juraría que podía sentir la piel seca de los que habían colgado antes de ella.
Cuando el verdugo, con sus guantes negros, colocó el nudo corredizo alrededor de su cuello, sus dedos temblaron. No por piedad, sino por temor.
Algunas veces, la ejecución no procedía a la perfección. A veces, cuando la trampilla se abría, los condenados pateaban el aire durante minutos, hasta que el cuello finalmente cedía o la asfixia ganaba.
Maximiliane no pestañeo, pero por dentro una sombra de pánico puro se deslizó bajo su esternón, como una gota fría descendiendo por su columna.
El cuerpo reacciona antes que el alma; la carne sabe cuándo ha llegado el final.
El nudo se apretó con fuerza. Sintió como la cuerda quemaba la piel de su cuello, rozando como una caricia cruel.
Y entonces, por primera vez desde que entró a ese calabozo, tuvo miedo real. No a morir, sino a desaparecer sin dejar huella. A que su esfuerzo, su conocimiento y su visión del mundo fueran sepultados bajo la tierra; que desaparecieran con su muerte. Morir... como una criminal, cuando su único pecado había sido proteger el apellido de su estirpe.
Invisible desde las sombras del patio, Sebastian la contemplaba.
Sus pupilas, afiladas y hambrientas, se dilataron por ese miedo contenido en fascinación pura.
Ese leve temblor en los dedos. La forma en la que sus labios se separaron apenas unos milímetros, como si el aire de pronto se rehusara a llegar a sus pulmones. Su pulso vibrando, vivo, delicioso. El aroma de su terror, mezclado con el sudor tenue y ese perfume de granada que vivía en su piel. Todo llego a él como una ofrenda exquisita.
Hermoso, pensó.
No por sadismo, sino por la pureza de la intensidad. El miedo de Maximiliane no era vulgar, ni histérico; era sutil, precioso, una joya en bruto que se escondía debajo de capas y capas de piel. Una emoción que no mostraba a nadie más, que era solo para sí misma y que, en ese instante, fue un secreto reservado solo para los dos.
Y él la vio. La olió. La saboreo. Ella le pertenecía más en ese instante que en cualquier otro.
Sebastian inclino ligeramente la cabeza, con los ojos entrecerrados, deleitándose con la agonía de la escena como si analizara un cuadro renacentista.
Su lengua rozó sus colmillos, con un hambre de algo que aún no podía nombrar.
Maximiliane no había pronunciado una sola palabra para pedir suplicar, pero su alma, expuesta y vulnerable en ese milisegundo segundo apenas perceptible, gritaba con claridad ensordecedora: "No quiero morir así."
El juez recitaba las palabras finales con la frialdad mecánica y automática de un burocrático.
—Por mandato de su Majestad la Reina, se declara a Maximiliane Phantomhive culpable de distribución ilegal de sustancias no reguladas y envenenamiento masivo. En cumplimiento de la ley y de la justicia será ejecutada el día de hoy en nombre de la Corona, procedan con la ejecución.
El silencio, ese viejo cómplice de los momentos atroces en la historia llenó el lugar y solo así, despojada de su nombre e identidad, Maximiliane se permitió cerrar los ojos.
"Si este es el final, que al menos sea mío."
Sintió la madera temblar bajo sus pies. El verdugo apoyó la mano sobre la palanca de hierro. La tensión estaba a punto de romperse y antes de que la palanca fuese movida, una voz sonó con urgencia.
—¡Detengan la ejecución! ¡Deténganla! ¡Hay nueva evidencia! ¡Traigo la orden sellada por el tribunal!
Es estrépito de unos pasos apresurados contra la piedra interrumpió el protocolo. Un ujier de palacio, pálido y bañado en sudor, subió los escalones del patíbulo agitando un legajo de documentos oficiales.
El juez lo interceptó con el ceño fruncido.
Hubo un murmullo de papeles, sellos lacrados en cera roja y firmas de magistrados. Era la perfecta falsificación de una redención: una confesión convenientemente creíble, una cadena de testigos fieles y comprados en el East End y un nuevo chivo expiatorio, listo para ocupar la soga. Una red de pruebas que Sebastian había tejido minuciosamente en las sombras con días de antelación, moviendo los hilos de Scotland Yard como si de marionetas se tratase.
El verdugo retiró la mano de la palanca, pero no retiró la soga de inmediato.
Para el Sebastian, oculto en la negrura, no hubo satisfacción más dulce en sus siglos de existencia que verla inmóvil. De pie. Con la soga de cáñamo aun en su cuello mordiéndole el cuello y el miedo apenas contenido en sus ojos, desorientados.
Maximiliane no miró al mensajero. Ni siquiera miró al juez. Su mirada, aún impregnada por el terror, barrió la penumbra del patio hasta clavarse de forma instintiva en el único rincón oscuro donde sospechaba que él habitaba. En el fondo sabía que nadie más que él en la Tierra tenía el poder de arrebatarle una presa a la Reina.
Supo, con una certeza gélida, que Sebastian la había salvado solo para demostrarle que el mundo exterior, su sociedad, su realeza, era una ilusión. Qué la Reina podría dictar leyes, pero él era el único de poder dictar el transcurso de su vida, así como su muerte.
Ese instante suspendido en el aire, donde Maximiliane había aceptado su muerte, donde ella expuso su alma vulnerable, ya no le pertenecía únicamente a ella.
Le pertenecía a él, en su totalidad.
Y ahora quemaría en la memoria de Sebastian para siempre. Se aferraría a él, devorando el secreto de su terror en cada suspiro, hasta el final de sus días.
.
.
.
.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ 𝙏𝙖𝙗𝙗𝙮
¡No autorizo que mi trabajo sea utilizado para alimentar inteligencia artificial!
Sebastian feeling a mix of jealousy and confusion when you and Ciel get along well. He knows you arent going to eat Ciels soul so he doesnt have to worry about you- but Ciel shamelessly keeps badmouthing Sebastian around you.
Doing all he can to monopolize your time. It doesnt help that you treat the boy favorably, always advocating for him to have more sweets and games. You inquire Ciel about all kinds of things, you work to pull him out of his shell until he begins to conserve with you. Your attention and curiosity is a luxury that Sebastian has never received. The hot stone of jealousy sits in his chest when you treat him with polite reservation. Ciel will send mocking looks at Sebastian. Unfortunately, the young lord was perceptive and had caught onto the demons interest in you. The emotion may be closer to envy than jealousy as Sebastian never had your complete attention in the first place.
But, he cant help but be puzzled by your behavior. It cant be "motherly instincts"- you are not the boys mother and you arent attempt to parent him in the slightest. Sebastian doesnt know what has compelled you to be so protective of the boy- for free. His guardianship is entirely conditional, as it should be, but your loyalty manifested without any cause. Moreover- Ciel is partial to you yet maintains his aloof attitude. He pretends to not be listening when you talk- but he remembers every detail. He is dry and snappish at your most inconsequential comments, but is the most relaxed when you are near. Ciel considers you the most dependable- yet hates to have your assistance. Sebastian is used to the contradictory behavior of his young lord but what surprises him is the seemingly endless well of patience you have. Unlike most of Ciels close companions, you have a functioning brain. He struggles to understand why someone as clever and observant as yourself puts up with such behavior. Not that he will ever tell Ciel this- as the moment the young master makes a mistake his faithful butler will be there to take care of you it.
The worst moments are when you do approach Sebastian first- because it is always to talk about Ciel. "Has he been eating? Sleeping?", "Im worried he is inside too much", "How can I help with his birthday celebration?"
The two feelings intertwine. Why do you care so much when you get nothing but the young lords prickly attitude in return? Why are you stand by someone who is always pushing you away? Why does Ciel reach for you, who is weak and ignorant to the powers of the supernatural and fatal? Why does Sebastian stand on the outside and feel like he is staring at a puzzle with a completed border and nothing inside? How does he get the pieces to complete the picture?
Sebastian Michaelis x (Knows hes a demon and doesnt believe a single thing he says) Reader
He is so dreadfully smitten- always singing your praises and complimenting you. Your reactions are neutral, sometimes annoying, sometimes amused, but never flustered. You doubt his sincerity.
Bonus points if before he grew to love you, he threatened you in some fashion. The first time in his life he has actually regretted being a dick.
Sebastian craves your attention, your concern, your acknowledgement. Initially he thought your resistance to believing his affection was cute. But the longer it goes on, the more your distrustful attitude becomes habitual- normal. He backs off fairly quickly because he realizes that trying to seduce or romance you will backfire. But the issue therein is he is hyper aware of you at all times, and has no way to direct this energy.
He does small things for you to lessen your workload- stocking your desk with ink, tidying your books, changing your bed sheets, adding medicinal herbs to your meals. Depending on your relationship, he wont tell you most of the things he does for you. On one hand he would adore your praise- but on the other he knows that you will only interpret his actions to be "quid pro quo".
Not that he doesnt get something out of helping you. Theres no level of degeneracy he wont stoop to for you. Laying in your bed with your dirty underwear to his face while he strokes himself dry. Licking your used utensils and dishware, chasing after the lingering taste of your mouth. He wouldnt be doing these things if you accepted his advances- hell, allowed him to attempt to court you! But knowing his nature, you have determined his infatuation to be fabricated. A joke that is the demonic equivalent to when the popular boy at school approaches you and asks if you want to date while his friends snicker in the background.
Your opinion of him would change (for the worst) if you knew the way he whines out your name. How harshly he grips his cock in frustration, incapable of being satisfied despite the puddles of cum in the bath. He tried getting release with other men and women but it only left him annoyed- rather than bringing him relief he feels apathetic. He likes sex, sex is fun, but he is reminded of one of the times he confessed to you and you rolled your eyes saying "Please crawl into the bed of another Mr. Michaelis, that way you will be too preoccupied to continue this charade."
He is grateful you sleep so soundly- that his demonic presence can have the effect of provoking fatigue as much as it does anxiety. He copulated with a gorgeous man, a stunning noble of french and russian blood whose pride crumbled in Sebastians hand like sand. But the satisfaction he got from degrading the young man wasnt fulfulling him sexually. Of course Sebastian would loathe to defile your sheets with such luxurious oils and perfumes. He washed himself before he eased into bed with you. Gently caressed your face and hair, pressed his ear to your chest to hear your heart--
"Whadda fuck?" Maybe you werent as sound a sleeper as he thought.
"Hello my dove." Sebastian, eyes glowing, purred at you.
"Oh its just you." You sighed and wiggled around until you lay in your side. Sebastian took advantage of the position by coiling his arms around you and kissing your neck.
"I have been lonely tonight." He confessed in your ear and smirked when you shivered. This was short lived as you then stuffed your pillow in his face.
I used my Oc as a representation of this iconic scene from chapter 11 of my fic.
I hope you enjoy it ^-^!
Don't come for me for the hands... I had zero intentions on putting effort in them lmao.
I have my phone full of kissing references because this is the first time I draw a kiss so this took way longer than I expected.
Pairing: Adrian Tepes/Alucard x Original Character (Mihaela Karnstein)
Summary: Newly engaged Adrian and Mihaela trying new things in bed.
Warnings: Blowjob, cum eating, face fucking. Minors DNI !
A/N: This is an extra for my story The Blackest Day and its sequel Swan Song. Be mindful that in this particular universe, Alucard was born in 1451 and not 1456 like the show, and Mihaela was born in 1453. However, they are both dhampirs and they develop faster, by the time this excerpt happens they are physically, emotionally and mentally adults.
1463
“Are you sure about it?” Adrian asked tenderly as he looked down at her. “You don’t have to do it just to please me...”
“I want to.” Mihaela was already on the floor, knelt in front of him on a pillow, her inexperienced yet firm hands undoing the ribbon of his sleeping pants. “I like doing things for you.”
He swallowed dry, feeling his face going warm and red. Ever since they slept together for the first time, only a week ago, they’ve been trying new things in bed, exploring each other’s bodies and the nuances of their desires. Mihaela was an anxious lover, so eager to try to give him everything that, sometimes, she ended up covered in bruises and aching spots on her body. The marks never make it to the morning, her dhampir blood granting her fast recovery to almost anything, but Adrian, always sweet and caring, was still afraid of hurting her.
“You must guide me, though. I’ve never tried this before.” The way she looked up at him, eyes burning with lust and anticipation had his cock throbbing in his pants.
Adrian nodded, watching her pull down his only piece of clothe and release his growing erection. Mihaela gasped, she had seen him naked and ready for her at least half dozen times now, but she never had his dick this close to her face, much less about to enter her mouth.
So she started with the things she already knew how to do. Spitting on her hand, she wrapped it around his member, slowly going up and down his length, feeling it pulse in her palm, bringing her other hand to hold the head and run her thumb over the glans.
“Is it good?”
“Y-Yes...” He gasped, fingers sinking into the mattress.
Mihaela smirked, continuing to work her hands on him until he was fully erect. Once he was finally ready, she leaned closer to his member and stuck her tongue out. She started out with shy, contained cat licks, feeling the salty taste of precum for the first time, finding it more appealing than she thought she would.
Above her, Adrian whimpers, fighting an inner battle not to grab her by her hair and push his cock inside her mouth at once, constantly reminding himself that he shouldn’t rush things and ruin her first experience giving him head. His dear love wasn’t doing it just for him after all, he could tell how much it was turning her on given the way she was pressing her legs together.
“Promise me you’ll tell me if I do it wrong.” She plead in half excitement, half wariness,
“I promise. But worry not, honey, just do what feels natural to you.”
Assured by his sweet words, Mihaela opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around the head of his cock. She slightly stuck her tongue out again, trying to coordinate the sucking with circling movements.
“Watch y-your... teeth!” He warned between moans, reminding her that she had fangs as sharp as his.
Mihaela managed a half nod, retracting her lips over her teeth in order not to hurt him as she lowered her head down to his shaft. A drop of saliva ran down her chin as she took more of him in her mouth, her eyes tearing up a little, but the sensation was not unpleasant at all, the throbbing of his dick on her tongue, brushing against her cheek walls caused her to grow wet, it would have damped her undies had she been wearing any.
“Fuck!” Adrian cursed, his tip was so close to hitting her throat that he struggled to speak. “Keep going, love, you’re doing so well...”
His praise made her clench around nothing, and she lowered her head more and more until she took all of his member, choking when it reached her throat. Adrian was quite big when he was hard, it had her doubting if she’d be able to take him in her virgin cunt the first time they had sex, but he fucked her so good she barely felt the pain of her broken maidenhead. She could only hope it would be the case again.
Mihaela held back the reflex of letting go of him to catch her breath, holding onto his knees to keep control of her actions, but Adrian gently pushed her off of him the moment he noticed her struggle.
“Are you alright, my love?”
Mihaela gasped, catching her breath. “Yes, I’m fine… I just need to learn how to breathe with my mouth stuffed.”
He couldn’t say if she meant to sound so obscene, but he groaned in pleasure, not resisting the urge to grasp at her hair when she wrapped her lips around his cock again. He didn’t try to move her head at the pace he desired, he merely held the big brown curls he was so in love with as he watched her getting the hang of it, as she slowly sucked and licked all over his member, taking him deeper in her throat each time.
Her name escaped his lips like a prayer, the vision beneath him could make him come at the spot. Her chin was wet with saliva and precum, her nipples stiff and peeking through the thin fabric of her chemise, her digits pressing on his thighs and her toes curling in need.
“Darling...” Adrian moaned, struggling to keep his hips still instead of moving it against her mouth. “I… I need...”
She let go of his cock with an indecent pop noise. “Do it.” She begged, guessing what he wanted. “I can take it, I promise.”
He threw his last bit of control through the window and used his hold on her hair to push her face against his dick, moving his hips against her mouth once she had him back inside.
Mihaela clawed at Adrian’s thighs, both for balance and trying to endure the initial discomfort of being face fucked. Warm tears ran down her cheek as his tip hitted the back of her throat over and over again, but the look on her hazel eyes as she choked on him made it clear how much she was enjoying it. She loved when he lost control, when his mind was so clouded by pleasure and his only coherent thought was to rail her.
Adrian got up and tilted her head in a better angle for him to use her mouth, one of his hands moving to wrap around her neck, to feel how deep she was taking him, all the while he moaned and said he was sorry for being so harsh, but since she gave no indication that she wanted him to stop, he didn’t. He pushed his dick in and out until his legs were shaking and his seed spilling on her tongue.
He tried to pull out and jerk himself into oblivion, not wanting to make her swallow cum in her first time sucking him, but Adrian failed miserably at the task, he only managed to withdraw after the last drop came out.
Mihaela coughed and gasped for air, swallowing everything he gave her, breathing heavily as Adrian watched her with both worry and satisfaction. He sat back on the bed and took her face in his hands, gently running his thumb over her lips.
“You’re alright?”
“… yes.” She answered, her breath slowly going back to normal. “Was I good?”
Adrian chuckled. “Do you really need to ask, my love?”
She laughed with him, placing a kiss on his thumb and resting her head on his lap, and his hands immediately found their way to caress her scalp.
“But we’re not done yet.”
She arched her brow, wasn’t he satisfied yet? “No?”
“No.” He smirked, his mind bubbling with unholy thoughts. Adrian pulled her up to her feet only to push on the bed right after. Mihaela bit on her lip with anticipation as she watched him grab her knees to spread her legs open, exposing her already soaked warmth. “Now it’s your turn.”
