#vendetta! leon

[saturncollides]

(pussy) drunk

Imagine having drunk sloppy sex with Vendetta! Leon. You wouldn't be sure if he's slurring his words because of the alcohol or to him being pussy drunk.

warnings: Leon is drunk so??? is that considered non-con even if he consented it? riding, not proofread.

There was something intoxicating about riding Leon. Maybe it was because he carried himself like nothing ever fazed him, or the fact he always seemed too composed to let anyone see beneath the surface. But in the dark of your room, when the city sleeps beyond the windows and moonlight spills softly through the curtains, he always unravels beneath your touch. It’s you who makes the emotionally constipated man come undone.

The way you ride him makes his heels dig deeper into the mattress. Each roll of your hips drives him a little closer to the edge. Your movements are unhurried and slow; you drag your hips in a way it feels like time can bend itself just for the two of you.

Leon’s dark locks are damp from the sweat of your lovemaking, sticking to his forehead as his breath turns ragged, each breath catching unevenly in his chest. His hands wrap around your waist like he’s holding on for dear life, fingers pressing hard enough to leave crescent shaped bruises by morning, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Not when Leon is unraveling beneath you so beautifully. 

The tremor running through him is impossible to miss now, the sharp little shudders that ripple through his body no matter how hard he tries to suppress them. His jaw is clenched, breathing ragged, every ounce of that careful composure cracking apart piece by piece in your hands. And maybe that’s what makes your chest ache so fiercely; the fact that the man who always seemed untouchable is trembling because of you.

It was driving him crazy, how deep you were taking him, how the warmth of pussy hugged his cock. Pussy so good he couldn’t think straight. 

Every single time your hips rose just to sink slowly over and over again, the lewd sounds coming from where you met his hips, how your juices were dripping down your thighs making a mess of the sheets. It was messing with his head. 

The alcohol had long since settled warm beneath his skin, leaving him dazed in a way you’d never seen before. Every flicker of pleasure found its way into his expression before he could hide it. 

“Doin’ okay, baby?” You whisper almost hissing from how good his cock felt inside you, barely holding back a moan as you sink into his twitching cock again, and again while touching your boops, lightly playing with your nipples.

His unfocused blue eyes were glassy when they met yours, and his lips parted as though he couldn’t quite remember how to breathe properly anymore. Leon never knew he could be in so much pain being inside you that it felt like pleasure, the blood rushing to cock and the pressure of your walls felt like heaven and hell all together.

“Don’t,” Words slurred from the alcohol “Don’t stop. Please. Fuck you’re so hot.” 

You can’t help but clench around him when he begs like that, and you know he feels it by the way he moaned quietly, his hips unconsciously snapping up to meet yours in a sloppy way. 

The pressure in your low abdomen tightens and you know you're close, your hips move involuntarily chasing more of the feeling, wanting to be even closer to him as possible.  You feel his clumsy thumb lightly press on your clit, doing quick circles with it to help you reach your peak. The feeling was overwhelming, and you let out a strangled whine.

In the haziness of the moment, you barely notice the mess on your thighs or how Leon’s head is tipping back onto the headboard, too dizzy to do anything else.

You let yourself collapse against his chest, your ear finding the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat as though it belonged there. Leon can do little more than pull you closer, still inside you afraid of ending the intimate moment. His arms tighten around you with something almost desperate. 

Soft, slurred murmurs fall from his lips, quiet thank yous and sweet nothings. 

Leon had never believed in saints or salvation, but he thought he could spend a lifetime on his knees thanking whatever merciful god had looked upon a man as damned as him and still chosen to place you in his arms.

MASTERLIST

[saturncollides]

BEGGED

You never asked him for too much, how could you?

His life was too complicated, his job already too demanding. He always looked exhausted from the sleepless nights full of nightmares and memories, the quiet weight of regret he carried everywhere, the drowning in alcohol every day to soften it all.

So you made yourself smaller, your needs and feelings. You took only what he was willing to give, whatever little space he could squeeze in for you in a life that already had no room to breathe.

Even if the only way you got to see him for more than five minutes was when he collapsed into your bed just to sleep. The five minute phone calls when he was away, putting his life at risk. The hurried texts you reread over and over just to feel close to him.

And still, you selfishly wanted more.

You wanted to have morning coffees with him, not just nights he couldn’t stay awake for. You wanted laughter that wasn’t rushed, conversations that didn’t get interrupted by work calls. You wanted to exist in his orbit without having to beg him to make time for you.

But instead, you sat alone in your living room, the TV flickering in the background, while you imagined him beside you: his arm wrapped around you as you laughed at something he would say, and him seeing just how deeply, how painfully, you loved him.

But reality was cruel, and so you had to share him with the whole country.

And you told yourself it was okay, because how could you ask for more when he was already breaking under the weight of things that were never his fault? He already blamed himself enough. You couldn’t be another reason for him to hate himself.

So you swallowed your needs, bit your tongue, became patient and understanding, even when it hurt. You took what he gave and told yourself it was enough.

Because when he smiled at you, genuinely, with his eyes full of love and hope… it felt like the world paused just long enough to breathe again.

When his arms wrapped around you, you felt complete.

Maybe one day, the weight he carried would feel lighter, the voices in his head would grow quieter, and the space he had for you would finally be enough for both of you to breathe, but until that happens you will wait patiently, for him.

Blame miss Olivia for this, not me.