#soloperative

[sunwalke]

[ HOT ⅋̲ HEAVY ] SENDER AND RECEIVER GO AT IT SOMEWHERE THEY ABSOLUTELY SHOULDN'T.

there's a pile of documents spread out on the desk — or, rather, there was a pile of documents spread out on the desk; now, they are scattered through the floor, some being crushed and ripped under the weight of rey's body as leon presses up against her, his lips mouthing against her throat, teeth-and-tongue, teeth-then-tongue, teeth-and-tongue, over and over again, apologetic but not really: demanding, more realistically. possessive. her hands, fisted on his hair, pulling at the strands as his hands roam her thighs, the thin fabric of her pants too thick for what she wants, what she needs out of him: the hot of his flesh against the hot of her flesh, physical contact, two starving bodies orbiting around each other again and again until finally crashing into one another. 

rey sighs, or moans, spreading her legs further apart, hiking her hips towards him, looking for any sort of friction, her body burning up with so much want you'd think this was the first time — the reality is that the last time was last night, but the few hours in between then and now do nothing to damp the reality of them, the obsessive compulsive possessive borderline repulsive call of his body towards hers, one that she had little qualms on answering, even in a place like this, when anyone could come in at any time, the door unlocked. 

her jacket, lost somewhere on the path from the door towards the desk. her blouse, half open, buttons ripped apart carelessly, leon's hands squeezing her breasts, his mouth sucking a hickey against her jugular vein, and rey lets him, all consideration and survival instincts thrown out of the window — she bares her neck out to him, pulls him closer, grinds her clothed crotch against the outline of his cock, tries, and tries, and — a frustrated sigh, almost defeated,    〝      leon. leon. come on.      〞   she whispers, half whimpers, tries to bring him closer, chases his mouth with her own. 

leon laughs, tensing up his body and pulling away from her. rey frowns, tries to bring him closer again. he shakes his head, and laughs again, presses his hard cock against her wet, clothed, dripping pussy, pulls her neck towards him and whispers against her ear  —  

˙⋆✮₊ ┊ ░ RE. LEON KENNEDY. . . . 〞 @soloperative : 〞   ask me, baby. ask me for more. you know how to.   〝  

rey closes her eyes, the pressure against her cunt maddeningly tempting, her nails digging into the flesh of his neck. a thrust of his hips, temptation, and all semblance of pride, all senseless falsety of it is thrown out of the window.    〝      fuck me. just fuck me, please.      〞

[anchoreds]

He knows resentment.　Or at least he thinks he does;　that dual image of seeing both what he craves in a man and what he sees as his own lack.　So it is an incentive to be worse,　the bigger man,　someone his counterpart is distinctly not.　This is what he becomes when the ache in his chest is far too much to bear.　Scenery made different,　forcibly,　the constant pang of speaker bass cranked high as can go and the blur of darkness and light,　hot on his face.　Fellow man is a target,　he decides,　and @soloperative is pretty enough in the countenance to disallow guilt’s creeping in.

Back to his place　⸻　he can’t believe what he’s doing,　not really.　It’s so unlike him,　free moans pressed directly into Leon’s mouth,　lips sealed firm in exchange of lust and aggression.　Dae-ho really wants this,　and it is that part which exacerbates his ire.　A fight he can’t resist.　Grappling of clammy,　overeager hands palming at thin fabric separating musculature from musculature.　And maybe he just wants to see if Leon can take it:　this is how heft of his arms shove Leon down against and into the mattress,　and further how he drags his own weight atop him.　Tantalizing,　how his outreach for wrists to pin back fumbles.　Or how his lips pull back to reveal a smirk.　❛❛　Hah…　thought you’d be the type to put up a better fight.　❜❜

[hotvillain]

alive when she's wanted, dead when she's not: leon threads his hand through her hair, and it feels like a gun to the temple. a knife to her throat. hot and heavy, dangerous and decadent ... violence and sex blending into one. his hips press against her, whimpers muffled against the base of his length— and her hand travels between thighs. it's damning. (the fabric of her panties, soaked. a twitch of her hips, desperate. the pink of her knees, still pressed against the floor.) he fucks into her mouth like a man, possessed. she blinks up at him like a god, dethroned. any divinity stripped, all inhibitions gone, they're nothing but animals, now.

it's raw, brute pleasure. a hasty, desperate need to tear each other apart. he pulls her off of him, spit-dripped and drool-shined, and mari wastes no time in offering him another place to fuck. another hole to fill. her dress inches up her thighs as she flips: face pressed against the rug, back arched to the ceiling, legs spread to invite him in.

[hurried.] sender hikes receiver's clothing just far enough to push inside of them. — @soloperative, as leon kennedy.

he hikes her dress up, she pushes panties to the side; a glance back, shared, times with the initial thrust in. her mouth parts, shameless with sounds, stringing cusses and whines into a near-slurred state. still aching with the stretch, mari fucks back into him, pulls the bottom of her dress an inch higher, and tugs the top of it a few inches down. her fingers twist at her own nipple, and she pushes back until leon's hips are flush, again. "you don't— " she squirms, gasping. "—have to be so gentle."