one hell of a night | leon kennedy x f!reader
Summary: you couldn’t keep doing this forever. you longed for stability, and that was not something he could promise you. even if he wished he could.
Content tags + warnings: Smut (18+) angst. vendetta!leon, claire mentioned, alcoholism, toxic tendencies and unhealthy relationship, the origin of the term situationship (jk jk), leon's hungover and you attempt to nurse him back to normalcy, clipping back in from present to past (hopefully it's not too garbled + confusing), leon's very persuasive to get you to stay, he's kind of possessive (?), don't let the sex fool you (prolly the longest i've written recently tho) still vanilla though. mostly just fingering and p in v.
Note: 8.8k wc. i am so self-conscious about posting this btw. i'm putting my heart out on the line rn, since some of the motivation behind this come from feelings i can familiarize with in diff points of my life. especially depression. i was debating on whether or not i wanted to write the smut, or leave it in. but it just kinda happened. so um, yeah.
also just to shout out @if-dreams-do-come-true and @leavemealoneplzs - please believe me when i say that i'm not like, trying to broadcast either of you to read this, but i'm also just trying to give credit due to both of you for inspiring me these past couple of weeks. also i recommend them both, for ya'll to read their works instead of this one, lol.
Update 6.13.26 - I wrote a second part 🫣
Eyes blinking open, you found yourself tangled in the sheets, shifting to move over onto your back. You fixed your eyes towards the ceiling— the fan's blades were steady, the pull chain swaying slightly as you focused in on it. Dead tired, your eyes shifted over to the man sleeping next to you, lying on his stomach. Even in slumber he looked completely wiped out. Which, was likely the pending hangover his body was still processing.
Unmoving, besides the rhythmic pulse of your heart, and the slow but steady work of your lungs. You remained in what felt like trance, recounting pieces of the past— when you first laid your eyes on him.
How did it all begin?
Sitting there by the counter, his fingers tapped on his glass. You didn't notice the label the bartender poured from, but you would end up familiar with it later. And despite his somewhat boyish features, he looked like wasn't one for jokes (another facet proven wrong, once you caught wind of his natural charm and sarcasm). His dark hair, gently falling past one side of his face, yet he hadn't bothered to swipe it away. His face, dusted lightly in what looked like he hadn't shaven since the night or so before, though he also didn't seem like the type to sport a beard. Strong, silent type. Well shit, he definitely… physically fit the bill for you.
You hadn't pieced it together from the start, but the signs were always there— you just seemed to wave them off, and make excuses for him. You couldn't even fault him entirely, technically speaking, he was more of an open book than you were at times.
When you introduced yourself, smiling and feeling a bit more confident than you normally would. What preconceived notions did he have about you? And which ones would you get to playfully dismiss, so that you could show him what you were really about?
You hadn't been in a steady relationship for close to four years now, and Claire, somehow thought that setting you up to meet Leon would be helpful. She meant well, you knew that. Leon, on the other hand? Well, he thought she was out of her mind— but she insisted, just telling him to talk and hang out at least once. Maybe, she figured Leon would never even follow through on meeting anyway. Or, maybe she'd seen some glimpse of what she thought was him taking his recovery seriously. So, there was no harm, right?
Well, maybe he hid it better than she realized. Perhaps, she had given him more credit than he deserved.
"So… you know Claire, huh?"
"We were classmates for a couple of semesters back in college. Then she kind of disappeared."
Leon nodded in acknowledgement, understanding the timeline quite literally, having lived through that particular catalyst with Claire.
"I reached out a few years after, and we've kind of kept in touch ever since. When we can. She's ridiculously busy."
"Yeah, that sounds like Claire."
He seems to understand, knowing that Claire certainly had her hands full usually. He didn't always see her, but somehow it felt like their paths would eventually overlap when work was involved.
"She tell you any stories?"
"About?"
He shrugged.
"Ah, if it's about your reputation, it's all been— positive." The pause you took, well it didn't feel very convincing. "Mostly."
Leon detected there was some kind asterisk, though it also seemed to imply Claire had not only hyped him up, but likely gave some kind of warning. Not that he could blame her, but he also told her any chance he got… to stop introducing him to women she knew.
"Oh well, now I've really gotta know what she's said."
It was the last thing he wanted, for Claire to also have any record of the women who've felt personally scorned by him. Not that it was intentional either, at least not in a way that he could simply help. But anytime he tried to justify it to himself, it seemed like the lure to instead forget those things as well, was all too seamless. It was probably just the paranoid part of him to wonder if you were a plant, and had a false pretense to even be here to begin with.
Though for you, you fumbled with trying to pin Leon's intentions. While he didn't seem like a definite red or green flag, he seemed like he muddled into something else entirely. You supposed you did like a bit of mystery now and then. Only time would tell if it was worth even unraveling, though.
But God, he was definitely charming. He made you feel warm, a bit tingly, and flattered.
"Welll, I hear you're pretty stubborn."
You were just trying to get a feel for him. God knows you were thick-headed about things, too.
"Stubborn as a mule."
"I've tamed wild animals. Some…" you trailed, "that were considered beyond help. I think you're underestimating me."
Ah. Were you the type to see him as some kind of project? His eyes narrowed.
Leon looked at the cup he held, downing the rest of it before he gave you a pointed look, your comment directing his curiosity now.
"Huh." He sat on that comment for a moment more, thinking up his next sly comeback. "You said you met Claire…where again?"
"Not a good listener, huh? That's not attractive." you teased.
"No, I was. I… am."
You couldn't help yourself from laughing now. "Hold on, I train animals for a living. Mostly dogs— service animals. There's been challenges, but… it's rewarding."
Leon couldn't help but smirk, finding your comment more than a little misleading, though he could sense your tone. You were definitely interested. And you were definitely flirting.
"Yeah, well. I might misbehave, but I don't bite."
"What are you saying…" you started.
Just that look had your chest fluttering, as you a wisp of a laugh left you, almost in disbelief that it was already heading towards that kind of direction.
"All that aside, I find it admirable. I'm sure it helps a lot of people."
"Well— I do enjoy it."
You said, simpering under the dimmed lights cast overhead, as you then looked down at your hands, keeping them resting ontop of each other. The buzz and rest of sound in the bar seemed to filter through, and during all of this, your defenses felt a tad lighter. Your original anxieties seemed to quiet as the two of you continued your back and forth.
And well, the night… was fun, to say the least. But miraculously, at its close— you walked away before it lead to that pivotal point. The sex? It came a bit later. Afterall, it's not like you were being a tease, like some men impatiently regarded you. You were merely testing the waters, and it was something you did the weed out the less than desirables, no matter how attractive they were.
Your time should be worth it, right? And if it was the right person, there was nothing wrong with leaving them wanting more.
Leon was still asleep, by all indications at least. The curtains remained closed, which you could only assume he preferred. He didn't seem like a morning person, even if he was never around long enough for you to find out.
You were now lying on your side, cautiously reaching out to graze his shoulder, down to his arm with the back of your hand. Just to feel him, and it was your hope that maybe your touch would subconsciously tell him what always felt like a struggle to vocalize.
Swallowing, you thought about what happened the next time you met up. Well, the planned version of it was thwarted; and somehow— the circumstances that brought you face to face was… unconventional, to say the least.
It all started out with a couple of texts. Short and sweet— which made you think maybe he wasn't all that interested. Leon didn't seem keen on dinner. And you figured that it might still be too intimate for the either of you. No big deal. The less pressure, the better.
But you also didn't realize it meant that he also didn't want to sit across from you; side by side? That's okay. Though, if he had a preference, he was going to treat for another couple rounds of drinks. Same bar, just without the practiced formalities from the first time.
So it was settled. And you figured, the first night felt like the two of you hit it off well.
What you didn't realize was that Leon didn't see a clear future for himself, so how the hell was he going to plan the next week? Or commit to a scheduled outing for that matter? It was nothing against you, you seemed like a pretty cool person, actually. If he'd known you during a different time, who knows what things would look like.
You got there a bit early, though eventually, the timeframe agreed upon had passed. Regardless, the allotted grace period was rather generous, by your standards. Ten minutes turned to thirty, and then it was an hour. And you knew better than to try calling or texting. And you didn't really care if he'd forgotten. At this point, you were only still there because you didn't want to waste getting ready for nothing. So you stayed a bit longer, after a couple more drinks, and then called it a night.
Yeah, he was cute. But not so much that you were willing to just let it go for ghosting you.
Though, at the same time you were sitting on the bar stool, you also had no idea that he was mostly non-functioning for the day. He was in his bed, sprawled out and thinking, wondering while in the midst of his daze— Had he forgotten to do something today?
Unfortunately, it wouldn't end up clicking with Leon, not till he's nursing his favorite drink at the very same bar, about a week later. Except, you're there too, with a couple of friends, and you're kind of tuning them out since they're having a conversation that leaves you feeling like a third wheel. Not that it was intentional, but as you took a sip from your drink, your eyes began to scan the bar. Simply observing out of boredom.
But that's when you noticed him. Leon, sitting there on those stools with another woman. Instead of thinking, it was like the red flashed in front of you, and you kept your drink with you. The jolt as you stood up startled the friends that were engrossed in their conversation, and though it wasn't always the best practice to just act— you couldn't be bothered to care. Even if he'd owed you nothing.
You may have been just a little tipsy as you marched right on over. You got between the two stools, splashing your half-full glass right into his face.
The woman looked up at you, aghast, and likely began to surmise you were probably the girlfriend or wife, catching him in the act. She quickly scurried off, and with Leon's face still not quite facing you just yet.
He flicked his tongue quickly over his top lip just to get a taste of what it was, then wiping a hand across his face. His hair was sticking to skin now, and he sighs.
He's about to make some wisecrack, but the words die as his eyes trail up to meet your own. They widened just slightly and he realized you were the thing he'd forgotten that night.
"Yeah, remember me?" you scoffed. Patience way beyond thin at this point.
"Okay, I deserved that."
"No shit." your response was instant.
Again? Maybe it wasn't always the best practice when you acted before thinking.
And well? The rest was history.
You would have thought that normally you would have and should have walked away from him entirely after that, but his apology seemed to ease you. Offering to pay for your table's drinks was probably something you thought would suffice. What you didn't expect was that while he hadn't groveled or made excuses, he also didn't seem angry with your response. Which had you taking a seat, and a beat later, your eyes were rolling from his next comment.
"She was just keeping it warm for you."
You could hear his breathing as you shut your eyes, still asleep. Peaceful? Who knows, he never seemed particularly well rested after a night of passing out from being drunk.
In your mind, you never thought that you had a weakness or gravitated towards troubled men. Apparently, you might have had a track record for wanting to care for others— even with some of your friends. Or maybe, it stemmed from another part of you. You felt like you carried your own baggage, and thought it only made sense to seek another like-minded soul. Some kind of kinship, hoping it would help to understand each other better.
Back then, you truly hadn't discerned how Leon was very much not on the market. Nor was he emotionally available to be a steady partner. It should have been evidence enough that he could hardly hold onto the bottle without it slipping from his grip, much less a woman he could come home to.
Even then, you couldn't deny the way his eyes watched you. Not just before a kiss, or the way he traced over your figure now and then, and what it told you.
It wasn't quite a relationship for a long time. But neither of you could deny that the hookups had become semi-regular. The two of you had been in this stalemate; this awkward phase that neither of you would dare to put a name on. And there were several times you felt the itch, just to ask him outright—
"Are you… seeing anyone else?"
"Do you want to be together?"
"Let's make it… official? Wouldn't that just be easier?"
But for a couple of months, it always got caught in your throat, leaving you speechless for the rest of the night. That is, if the either of you could bear staying past the initial act. When he was in your bed, well, he remained sitting up, just biding his time, leaving in what felt like minutes.
And that dynamic only seemed to shift further after another agonizing month, and you couldn't help but bring it up. And Leon, answered you like it'd be a conversation the two of you discussed before. Maybe in your mind, maybe in your heart. Though, you swore it never happened verbally.
"You know this wouldn't work out."
Then why the fuck did it feel like your heart was already involved past a point you could recover from?
Those words coming from him so easy, like it should have been so obvious. As if you were stupid for even considering more. It stung, and you were embarrassed that it was stuck on replay in your mind so often.
The next time, it came up was when you invited him over for dinner at your place. You wanted to cook for him, to show him how much you felt for him.
He complimented you. He loved your cooking, and in that intimate space, the two of you found yourselves entangled again. The sexual chemistry was clear to both of you, even if that was not what your end goal was for the night.
Leon didn't talk much during sex, but what did you in was something he said in particular, while he was inside of you — resulting with your fingernails digging into him harder just then.
"Sweetheart, shit… don't you give up?" he said, in what felt like a pleading tone.
The pet name felt like a poison coming from him, sweet at first, but it coursed through you so quickly, it made you feel paralyzed, unable to pry away from him, not when you were this close.
You weren't even sure what brought the sudden thought on, but you wanted to believe he was simply remarking on your active libido for him. Though, in his mind, he was definitely referring to your constant offers for more than just this— the way you made it so obvious in your actions, your desire for something permanent, something stable. Things he didn't feel he could ever give you. But he also couldn't keep himself away from you, his hands on you.
It was hard to even think back at how desperate you must have come off all these times. The memory fizzled away, as you could feel yourself blinking, trying to will your impending tears. But as you laid there, they slid down your cheeks, and you quickly wiped them away.
When Claire asked you how things had went, you were a bit dismissive. Maybe if you distanced yourself from the true nature of your relationship with him, she wouldn't press any further. It wasn't like she needed to know the details that you were hooking up on a somewhat-irregular basis. It just felt both embarrassing, and somehow too intimate to reveal, especially while you didn't have a handle on things yet.
Eventually, things got to a point where Leon knew the two of you were exclusive, but he wouldn't admit it out loud. As if it made things easier to just separate permanently, that this could be resolved so easily if he just stopped seeing you. And there were attempts made, a hiatus from either one or the other, but someone always came right back to start the cycle over again.
Whenever you had accidentally left things over at his apartment, he'd always gently remind you to come and get them. But whenever it was the other way around— his jacket left somewhere by the couch or on the chair, his toiletries and other things— you welcomed them into your space.
You figured that if he had something to come back to, he would never truly leave.
Well, that's what you had originally thought, anyway. But emotionally, it had gotten to a point where you could no longer stand the obscurity of Leon's part in your life. The more you had seen of him, the more it worried you— especially once you had caught onto just how often he was drunk. How well he'd hidden it, and all of a sudden his avoidance started to click into place for you.
The periods when he wouldn't answer your calls, and how worried you got that something might have happened to him, only for him to show up at your place, acting like none of it ever happened.
So one day, instead of his touch inciting you to join him, you stopped him. You didn't know you could do it so suddenly, but you had been thinking about it for a while. And you couldn't keep doing this.
Meeting his eyes, you noticed just how dull those blues looked; despite how gorgeous they normally were, you could tell there was so much more buried underneath it. And you couldn't bear to nurture his tendencies, especially if his pain was never properly addressed.
So, you called him out on it, stopping him from pursuing you further. The last words that left you, had him slumping over the nearest surface, mumbling something, though you couldn't quite catch if it was aimed at you or not.
"I can't do this anymore."
You stared hard at him, and the look on his face just made you feel even worse. When was the last time anyone looked at you like that?
Like you were the reason he was like this. As if you were the catalyst, and the pressure weighing down that would make him shatter for certain. What exactly was he feeling right now?
It was never your intention to hurt others. And it was never your intention to do that to Leon, but for as long as this had went on, you couldn't bear to continue feeling this constricted; like you would die if he couldn't love you the same, if at all.
You got up from the couch without another word, walking towards the door.
And he called out, "Can't do what anymore?"
The door shut with finality.
He felt some frustration that he wasn't given more explanation. Even if you'd attempted all these times in the past, though he brushed it off like it wasn't important. All that echoed in his mind, was some kind of childish joke about how women were so difficult to understand.
It only took about a day later of silence.
You weren't answering his calls, and usually you were quick to pick up. Something about your sudden scarcity made the ache in his heart worsen. He knew it was likely intentional— and that was what made it worse. It was unlike you, and even though he couldn't admit how much he'd grown accustomed to your efforts, it had him feeling a multitude of things.
It probably didn't help that the longer he waited, the further in he was on that bottle. And it also didn't help, the way he was mumbling out to himself, rehearsing what he wanted to say. But the more he tried, the more garbled it all felt. He wasn't even making sense to himself.
So it was only a matter of time before Leon showed up at your door, looking a little worse for wear.
You're not even sure how he got himself here, obviously not safely or without breaking a law or two. Yet here he was, and you could just tell by the haze in his eyes, his breath coated in the thick scent of whiskey that he'd overdone it again.
"Leon, oh…god, what are…?" you started.
Leon's voice came out a bit muddled, urging you to let him in.
"Thought…about what you said earlier. That ultimatum… so I'm here," his arm rested by the doorframe, to keep himself upright, "wanna give you that answer."
"Leon, it's late. And you're drunk, you need to lay down." you sighed, the scolding tone in your voice was nearly exasperated at this point. "You shouldn't be here."
"Let me finish, just…please," he pleaded.
Reluctantly, you let him in, shutting the door and clicking the lock in place as he tried to gather himself.
And so you shielded yourself for as long as you could, not meeting his eyes, since you couldn't bear to see him in such a state.
Usually Leon was so much better at saving face; he was a high-functioning alcoholic. Something that you discovered later than you would have liked, once you were in too deep. You'd fallen for him, even if was entirely unexpected.
It probably didn't help that though you had been actively pursuing him early on, he somehow made it seem like he was the one who did most of the yearning.
He could be quite the sweet talker.
Leon staggered for a moment, blinking as he walked a bit further into your apartment, taking a seat on the couch to keep himself from hopefully looking less a fool. Though, it was likely beyond repair, the image of stoicism he had normally defaulted to.
He let out a heavy sigh, allowing his face to fall into his open palms, expressions hidden away with another muffled sound of frustration.
You were on standby for a few moments more, until it clicked that you should probably get him some water, anything to just…hydrate. Maybe it'd help.
Once you emerged from the kitchen, you approached his hunched, defeated form by the couch and placed a water bottle wordlessly infront of him on the coffee table.
And without another word, the sudden movement caught you completely off guard, Leon had tugged you flush into him, his face hidden into the fabric of your shirt, pressed right into your stomach. You could feel and hear the heavy inhale, next— an exhale coming from the crumbling man.
"Leon." you repeated.
For some reason, anytime he heard his name leave your lips it felt like a death sentence. He knew your intent was to break things off for good— and now that it was this close to happening, he suddenly he wanted to plead his case despite it being too late.
You could feel his arms clinging to you even tighter, his voice sounded choked and the way he shook just now. You confirmed it as you felt his tears wetting your shirt, his mouth opening with a shaky hiccup, what sounded like he was sobbing.
Your eyes landed somewhere on the couch beside him at first, and in your peripheral, you could discern that he wouldn't let up anytime soon. All you could think about was just how hard this was on you, seeing the man you were stuck on withering away.
Deep down you didn't feel like there was anything left for you to do, you had already sacrificed so much as is. And yet here he was, drowning himself, hoping he'd dull the nightmares if he was out cold.
You didn't retreat or pull away from him. Maybe, you couldn't.
It was the first time, that instead of merely being the soothing distraction before the sun rose up— you were a choice. Regardless, it felt terrifying. You weren't sure you could provide steady, reliable shelter even now.
But how could you turn away anyone seeking reprieve with what little you had? You were known to share at a moments' notice, even if there was hardly enough for you to save yourself.
With a shaky hand you placed it over his head, stroking his hair, allowing him to let it all out.
Before you could even prevent them from falling, you could feel your cheeks wet with tears, and you used your free hand to wipe them before he could see.
Your mind racing, you couldn't help but think. Did this mean things were ending?
Had things run its natural course, and you were going to lay the history to rest? Like you had resolved recently to do?
Or, was this part of a cycle?
Your throat felt paralyzed. And with what felt like forever, Leon's grip on you loosened and he was looking up at you now. Eyes red, fresh with the sting of his tears. But not for long, as he buried himself back to hide away.
You were not a cruel person. Though, sometimes you wish you could pretend long enough that you were. So that maybe you could speak loud enough, firmly enough— because if you heard yourself say it out loud, it would confirm what you knew had to be done.
If anything, it was never easy to put down a wounded animal, suffering and unable to be nursed back to health, but in your position, you were struggling to pull the trigger.
And it felt so cold to see it this way, but you weren't sure if there was anything left within your power. It was simply something that had you feeling damned either way.
Regardless, you hadn't turned him away. And eventually, once he pried himself away, you somehow convinced him to lay down in your bed, since you knew he'd be more comfortable there than on the couch.
A full night passed by the time Leon finally roused. He looked over to his side, finding the spot empty. You were likely already up and about in the kitchen. He laid there a few more minutes, finally deciding to get up to use the restroom.
After flushing the toilet, and washing his hands, he took in the scene around him. Still blinking, and clearly groggy, he noticed the subtlety in your shower. His shampoo and body wash? Gone.
They were about half full by the last time he'd seen it, which meant you had already throw them out. Just the thought felt like a stab to the gut.
Then your cup, the one that usually held his toothbrush next to yours. Gone as well. He'd truly taken for granted how much you had welcomed his presence in your home— your life, your heart.
Popping off the cap of the mouthwash, he gargled for long enough, just to clear the previously soured taste on his tongue.
Leon jaw tightened as he looked forward into the mirrored medicine cabinet, opening it up and grabbing a bottle of ibuprofen, dry-swallowing a couple of tablets.
Instead of wandering out the hallway to find you, he remained sitting on the side of the bed, and if he waited long enough, maybe he could prolong the inevitable. He dreaded today— figuring that your feelings were cemented and final, and he was refusing to face it. Even though he had no right to demand your withstanding care and affection for him.
The bedroom creaked open, and you walked in with plate and a glass of juice. Leon turned to glance, his eyes widening for a moment, though his gaze lowered to what you were holding. Just some eggs and toast.
Leon's voice was quiet, still a bit raspy from just waking up. "Thanks…"
You began to speak, and he winced even as he took a bite from the toast, preparing himself for the remnants you attempted to express the night prior.
Though, your voice, mild-sounding as you stood there by him, his form hunched over as he continued to nibble here and there. Taking his time.
"Hey, how's your head? You were… pretty out of it last night."
You recounted the way he looked, wounded and without armor. Normally Leon wasn't so keen on showing you too much, though this time it felt different. He'd been a slave, having given in to his base emotions. He couldn't remember everything, but he vaguely pictured you in his arms, soothing him.
"I've had worse."
You nodded, though he wasn't looking directly at you. His eyes were casted down at the plate resting on his lap, chewing pensively on the breakfast.
He truly had gone through worse, that you knew. But you also couldn't seem to bring up calling it quits. It's like the awkward phase of being in relationship, and just when you're on the verge of breaking up— your partner ends up grieving a death, or something similarly tragic causes you to stick a pin it temporarily. And frankly, that's kind of how you were feeling even now.
Would it be fair to leave him like this? Would it serve to even help him if you stayed?
You were so torn, and interrupting you from your thoughts, Leon spoke up once more.
"For what it's worth… I never," he started.
You listened respectfully, giving him the room to continue, and he felt your weight next to him, as he turned to face you.
"I… didn't mean to hurt you. Make you feel like you didn't mean anything to me."
You looked back at him, and your eyes softening, though wavering with uncertainty.
"I know… I figured that, but I can't see you do this to yourself anymore." your breath hitched.
It was taking everything in you to not just fold and be the one to cry now. But you didn't want to start breaking down, not when this might be the most honest the either of you had been. You looked away, shutting your eyes briefly.
"It's okay, hey… look at me."
Leon very gently placed a hand on the other side of your face, tilting it back towards him cautiously. You didn't resist.
"I want you to know… your patience, your willingness to put up with this, well…"
His face was still close to yours, but the neither of you pressed on, since these things needed to be said.
"I would've walked away from the start. But you didn't."
"I've wanted you. This whole time… I just wanted to work through it, because I wanted to see myself with you." you admitted. "I just… feel like such an idiot, I forced those expectations."
"You've never did anything wrong. This is all me."
Leon made it a point to correct you, sliding his hand over to cover your own that was resting on the bed.
You sniffled, and with a nod, you felt shy all over again. Like, you were seeing a different man, a different side of him he hadn't shown you before.
Then, meeting his eyes, the ones you had always felt drawn to before. They looked different, even now, swirling in those hues made it feel like you were being lured in all over again. He looked afflicted, but willing to meet you towards the middle. And that soft gaze had you wondering.
When was the last time anyone looked at you like this?
Like you were all he wanted. Like you were his air, and would be unable to separate himself from you if he chose to continue living. You felt weak, and the pull was strong.
The two of you were lounging across your bed, Leon was resting on his back, while you were precarious, gently pressed into his side, as the two of you kissed. You had expressed that you still wanted to talk, but like this would be okay. For a little while. Just for now.
One peck, and he sought to continue it, and you only parted, lips still so close you were speaking against his own. "I don't want to see you like this, not anymore."
You breathed, a bit desperate in your tone as he whispered back. "Then fix me."
Though, you wanted to counter that was an impossible thing for anyone to do, and just the weight of that— the implication, it was hardly appealing. But the way he sounded, so vulnerable yet confident in a way that his counters had you feeling hot all over.
"I… I can't," you persisted.
Even if you hadn't said it directly, the words echoed within him 'You can't be fixed', he had heard variations of it before, not directly, but usually in a clinical way— some mandated therapist assigned to him. Though, he was never willing to stick with it for long. It wasn't something he reached out for, so it just seemed to piss him off even more. But now, he wondered if he should have given it a chance before.
Instead of weighing it all on someone who was not equipped to handle this— especially with the history, and the emotions behind your actions.
"Only you, baby."
The tone he said it in, had you feeling absolutely magnetized for him, as if you had forgotten all about his little stint the night prior.
It was not your job, but you leaned in more, unable to part from his lips even now, your breasts pushing up against you from the press of him. You were desperate, maybe to convince him that he was being unreasonable to suggest it.
"You should've left before, but you're still here. That says something…"
It was him withdrawing this time, his forehead resting towards yours, the tip of his nose brushing past your own. The two of you were both trying to catch your breath, and your eyes lingered by his lips again as he spoke, as if you were going to silence him once more.
"I'll stop. For you, starting today."
His thumb gently swiped at your bottom lip, and your eyes flit from his hand and then back up into his eyes.
You were… irrevocably fucked, weren't you? Metaphorically, and all ways physically.
"I think…"
Your voice came out, such a soft thing, you were absolutely wrecked for him. Not wanting to raise your voice or startle him, especially with the two of you being so fragile right now.
"I don't think you should say that, not if you don't mean it."
Leon moved his hand down to hold yours, bringing it over his waist to rest, allowing you to continue before interrupting with another brush of his lips.
"You still need to heal, you need time."
You hadn't fully gripped onto his hand just yet, so with your palm facing up, he traced his thumb along the lines of your warmth. "Working on it… should've seen me before we met."
A soft huff of air left you, not quite a laugh, though your eyelashes dusted past the tears. The longing look within them were clear, and he knew he had your attention.
"I'm okay when you're here, when you're with me. When you're mine,"
Leon's throat tightened, the words leaving him quite suddenly. Especially since you never heard him put it this way, and it had you uncertain for a moment. But you couldn't help the way you wanted it— even if it was a false truth, you appreciated the way it sounded.
There was clear hesitation, the unspoken portions of the story so far, and just how heavy such promises would prove to be if broken.
"Stay… even if I mess up."
Your brows furrowed, and you were clearly conflicted. Even if Leon wanted to quit his addictions, it wasn't something anyone could just do, even those with wills of iron. Normally, his refusal to quit were when those instincts kicked in, facing odds that left him running on adrenaline. When he was alone, or in any other low stakes situation, it wasn't even a thing he considered. To hold back, to control himself, to simply stop killing himself slowly— surviving today, just didn't feel like a gift anymore.
You didn't answer him, at least not with words. With a cautious hand, you gently grasped his own back, more willing.
"Let me show you."
The sound of his voice, calm and soothing as he gently nipped at your ear. "Just how fucking much you mean to me…"
At this point? The fight left in you nearly dissipated. You wanted to know what he meant.
Leon shifted from his spot on the bed, gently lowering you so that you could lie on your back now, as he got ontop of you, caging you and leaving you to handle his presence.
You swallowed, feeling your breathing change. Normally, when sex was involved between the two of you, it was something charged with something that felt like urgency, and desperation. But you had gotten used to Leon having you bent over, or on your knees. Sometimes, you were ontop, but Leon could still avoid the eye contact if he tried hard enough. Something as simple as missionary felt so rare inbetween.
"Leon, we can't keep doing this." you begged.
Your eyes reflected what looked like you might shatter if he wasn't gentle enough. Though, he could tell when you needed to be taken care of. And such a moment right now, he was not willing to pass on.
"Then we won't."
Leon breathed, leaning down, cupping your cheeks into his hands as he kissed you once more. You leaned up just barely, hoping to pursue the rest of it, and it left you craving more.
"We'll do things differently."
"Okay…"
You folded. And all of a sudden, it had you feeling like all of your previous hang ups on the relationship were crumbling. Maybe, just maybe you would snap out of it afterwards, or you would just be in deeper.
As he remained above you, he slid one of his rough hands up the expanse of your abdomen, inching up your shirt. His lips found their home across your neck, and he could feel how your throat bobbed in anticipation, which amused him.
One of your hands found their way through his smooth hair, gasping once he began to increase the pressure of his mouth, suckling at a spot that had your grip tightening on him temporarily. Leon liked it when you pulled his hair, which only was encouraging him to continue his trek underneath your shirt
Not wanting to sound desperate, you did your best to temper yourself, withholding most of the sounds threatening to escape you. But Leon was persistent.
"Gorgeous…"
You felt his voice against you, the rumble that left him as let his tongue run over the spot that would likely darken now. His face moved in closer to your collarbone, inhaling your scent. You must have showered the night before while he was knocked out. Your familiar shampoo catching his senses, all the while his hands were grasping and groping at your bra, to feel the shape of your breasts.
You were heaving, and thought it might make more sense if he removed it entirely. So with your help, he tugged your shirt upwards, your arms raising momentarily until he tossed it aside.
It caused a shiver to run through you, once you realized there was never a time the two of you had sex during the light of day— once the sun peeked out and rised after dawn. The two of you were normally hidden within the shadows, always at night.
As Leon descended the revealed skin— his territory. Smirking, he pressed an open mouthed kiss over the top curve of your breast. Your body arched just a fraction, but he could feel it, the way you wanted more of him. Your hand was threading through his hair, hoping that you could coax him to unveil more of your body.
The two of you could already discern it, but the white flag you were unknowingly waving would be distinctly clear once he saw the state of your panties. The color of them? Well, ironically, were also white.
Though, there was a different pressing concern for him, as he unbuttoned his jeans. It was any wonder how he could fall asleep in denim, but you knew it wasn't exactly his choice this time. Once he had them off, his hands replaced your own that were trembling to shed your pajama pants off.
The sounds that left you were adorable, airy, and you couldn't help but laugh just a tad, realizing just how ridiculous it might have looked the way you were both racing to undress now. Limbs and elbows nudging and accidentally bumping into the other. Leon, mostly naked himself now, it was only inevitable that things would continue to escalate.
But suddenly, you were no longer giggly as your mouth parted all of a sudden, looking up at him with those— fuck me, already eyes. His hand delved past the stretch of cotton, already testing just how far along you were. How far gone, more like it.
He was going to drive you mad if he wasn't inside of you within the next few moments.
Just as he was about to comment on just how devastatingly soaked you were, he wet his own lips as he watched you writhe a bit. So without further comment, he decided to just pull them off, sliding them down your thighs.
You were still feeling vulnerable, and perhaps a bit unsure, because you were just about to close your legs up, but he stopped you with one hand on your thigh.
The other? He rested his hand across your mound, just mindlessly grazing his fingers into coarse hair, as he focused his thumb solely on rubbing your clit. Your breath caught even further, and just to play nice, you allowed your other thigh to inch apart wider.
"That's it…" he simply said.
You closed your lips momentarily, trying your best to refrain from the buildup of an actual moan. Instead, he could hear a delicate hum, but the sound wavered higher, and then lower as you trembled the longer Leon circled his thumb.
Next he pecked at the cushion of your breasts, the gap hardly there between them from the way your bra supported you. And his eyes— something lethal, something that had you nearly bucking your hips up just then, right over his hand.
Leon's lips were still glossy with his own saliva, from watching you turn to mush, thighs parted just for him. His eyes closed briefly, and the hand that had been guarding your thigh, slid upwards so that he could tug at the bra's strap. You got the hint, and quickly slipped the other side down for him, using your hand to bring the cups down. The weight of your breasts spilling out immediately, to which he showed his gratitude by opening his mouth to press against a nipple.
You shuddered, and without much of a warning, he slid one of his fingers inside, eager to explore you further.
He wasn't rough with you, instead deciding to take his time in prepping you for the rest. After a short bit of time, he added another finger. The way he kept his mouth on your breast, while he continued to use his tongue and lips to caress.
You were completely done for. Especially with the way your hips lifted slightly on their own, motioning towards his hand, as he began to strum along upwards, teasing and then missing the spot entirely. You knew that he was being deliberate, keeping you at the cusp. But you also weren't normally a beggar, especially with how you had been competing for his affection all the way up to now.
"You want me to stop?" he suddenly asked.
He looked to be in a daze, and you couldn't help but feel that you were as well.
You simply shook your head, and then much too quickly, began to plead your case. "No, please… don't stop. I want you,"
"Yeah?"
"Yes… oh god, yes." you repeated.
Without another word, Leon finally gave you just what you wanted, though this time you fell back, while he remained kneeling, your legs angled just right and resting on either side of him. And with targeted ease, you could feel his fingers grazing you from within, repeatedly.
You were no longer holding onto restraint, or cared about how you looked or sounded. With eyes shut and head thrown back into the pillow, you were certain he would have you climaxing anytime now.
With a ragged moan, you used one of your hands to grasp onto the pillow to anchor you. Leon must have been taking in the sights, because you looked absolutely wrecked. You were so wet, the two both caught whiff of your scent, and it only encouraged him further. And with a few more practiced movements of those two fingers, you made it over your peak.
Lying there for a few moments, you kept your eyes closed, not ready to face him just yet. Though, he waited for you to look up at him once more, before he withdrew his fingers. And once he did, you felt his digits dragging across your inner thigh, smearing your essence across your skin.
Your eyes were still lidded as you watched him, mesmerized with the look plastered on his face. He reached that same hand up to his face, and he began with painstaking slowness, suck each of the fingers responsible. A soft hum left him, since he knew he could keep your scent with him a bit longer today.
Coming up from your lying position, you began to peel at his underwear, to which he was quick to remove for you.
Once that was taken care of, you allowed Leon to find his place between your thighs, and just for extra measure, he took his time in coating himself in your arousal. It nearly had you whimpering even now.
"Leon," you whispered, loving how you fit right beneath him.
He raised one of your thighs, helping your leg to hook over his waist as the tip of him kissed your entrance.
"Let me help you forget, at least for a little while."
You brows furrowed, and you could feel yourself wanting to respond to that. But once he was sinking inside of your heat, you crumbled.
"Just feel me, please… feel me." he huffed.
With some effort, and just so he made sure you weren't tense, he paused before inching past any further. Though, once he could tell you were easing up your muscles and relaxing, it was only a matter of time before he was sinking inside further.
He allowed his hips to begin moving in a slow, grinding motion. Back and forth, as your eyes continued to flutter up to look at him. To see how the sunlight caught on him, the way his bangs fell over his face.
It didn't take long for the two of you to lose yourself to the sensations, and the overwhelming emotions causing them— just how intimate it felt. Your breathless admissions, with what felt like sheer adoration for him, had him now leaning down, his forearms bracing himself on either side of you. Just to get more acquainted with the sweet things you released for him.
He kept the gentle rocking motions of his hips, as you cried out, both of your legs keeping him in place, your heels digging right into his lower back.
You would probably tell him anything he wanted to hear— and it would likely already be true.
Leon didn't speak much more during the session, but the more the sheets seemed to twist from all the friction and movement, it was apparent from the way you were moaning that you were getting even closer to the precipice. You were absolutely insane for him. And you weren't sure it was going to end anytime soon.
"Fuuck…" he groaned. It sounded like heaven, hearing the rasp and unfiltered pleasure leave him. He normally wasn't this vocal. And it had you begging him for more. Though, it hadn't hit him what you were even asking for, so he increased the depth and momentum of his thrusts, just to be sure.
"I don't deserve you," he breathed out suddenly.
You looked up at him, your hands very carefully caressing his face, and your eyes threatened to close from just how well fucked you felt.
"But fuck, I need you…" he choked on his words, nearly sounding like he was about to sob. The sudden impact of his thrust seemed to emphasize the words.
"Leon…" you cried out.
You were desperate, and just hearing that alone had you trying to keep from cumming right then and there. His grip felt bruising as he held onto your hips, making sure you could feel everything he was chasing— so sure you would understand if he poured it into his actions.
It wasn't much longer and the two of you were carried over to that promise— that you could be each other's everything, a succinct feeling that this was a second chance.
And once you felt yourself in the afterglow, the haze of what was something else entirely than what you were used to in bed with him. Your throat still felt raw, and you were going to need some water, probably.
A few moments, and the two of you were lying on your sides, facing each other. "Are you going to leave now?" you asked. The question left you, maybe somewhat bitter because you were so used to the usual answer.
"No."
You swallowed, and scooted a bit closer, and he looked a little lost, even now.
"How are you feeling now?" you asked gently.
You felt a soft smile forming on your lips, you knew that he was still probably not fully recovered from the night before, and thus why he felt so spent.
He grasped your hand, pecking the back of it.
The thought of sleep, especially while sober felt like such a threat. It was not something that felt like a reprieve from his thoughts while conscious. Sleep wasn't rest for him, it was a descent into something much darker, keeping his subconscious at the forefront. It was not something he wanted to explain. Faces of death, not just foes— but of friends, those lost along the way. Even if he closed his eyes now, and he allowed himself to drift while you were there. Well, he just feared what you might see, when you caught him in the midst of his nightmares.
"M'tired… but, don't let me sleep. Not yet."
You focused in on the way his eyes seemed to imply he was elsewhere, even if he was physically lying there with you.
"Okay."
"So uh, what did you think when we first met?" he chuckled, a bit hoarse.
Your heart felt a tug, and you couldn't help the way you were drowning in it— overfilling with everything you felt. And just like that, you began to talk, detailing what you thought.
But it perhaps was the first time you felt like you were getting somewhere. So naturally, you hoped that this would lead you down a road where things worked out.
Time would only tell. And deep down, in the pit of your stomach, you also dreaded if last night would somehow become a regular occurrence.
