• Obsessed, with fictional men, and escaping the world through limerence. Reality, has never been my strongest suite neither I like it.
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• I mostly write about my husband Leon S. Kennedy and sometimes about my second husband Simon Riley.
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I am in my mid 20s, and some of my interests include reading, writing, drawing stuff, watching anime, horror movies, playing games and exploring new things.
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genre/cw : abduction, reader is abused by their father , sfw, nsfw, language, 18+, dead-dove, kinda? ooc-simon not really i dunno lmao, stalker!simon, blood, bruises mentions of murder, Stockholm syndrome , somnophilia , possesive/territorial simon
kidnapper!riley who abducted you because, well, you were the daughter of the state minister—the very man who had simon's sister killed simply because she was a journalist who'd gotten too close to the truth and had uncovered dirt on him.
don't ask how simon riley knew; because somehow, he'd managed to get his hands on the proof, and now all that grief he'd carried for years had turned into a boiling, vicious need for revenge.
now he wanted the minister to suffer the way he had, and what better way than to take his precious daughter from him?
so he made a plan and it was simple : kidnap you, make him watch, and eventually kill you right in front of him, or at least, that's what simon told himself when he planned the kidnapping.
kidnapper!riley who had kept tabs on you for two fucking months — about your whereabouts, where you went, who you met, where you ate, when you came home, every little detail of your routine, which route you took home, and even the little habits you probably didn't realize, and anyone noticed, seeing this or him being so invested in this -- some people might even say simon knew your schedule better than you did, after all it was totally for revenge.. at least, that's what he kept telling himself every time he found himself watching you for longer than necessary.
kidnapper!riley who was not at all impressed by you (atleast he let himself believe that), but still he could not help but think you weren't anything like the other rich kids he'd expected, you didn't spend your nights at parties or flaunting your father's money; instead most of your time was spent in libraries, buried beneath books and notes, which, admittedly, made his job a hell of a lot more difficult — and somehow made you far more interesting to watch than he thought.
kidnapper!riley who noticed you always wore long sleeves, even during the fucking summer, and now... he was intrigued, because it wasn't something he'd expected to notice, let alone care about, but he found himself wondering why.
was it a skin condition? did you just hate the heat?
or was there some other reason you kept your arms covered? the question lingered in his mind longer than it should have, and somewhere beneath all the anger, another voice quietly popped into his mind -- what if she’s hurt?
he hated it immediately, hated how quickly concern had crept into his thoughts when you were supposed to be nothing more than revenge, and yet, he knew, if someone had hurt you, if there was someone responsible for whatever you were hiding beneath those sleeves, simon knew with frightening certainty that they would pay the fucking price.
kidnapper!riley who had taken you somewhere secluded, your arms secured behind the chair as he waited for you to wake up.
as you finally woke up fluttering your lashes he'd expected you to panic, scream at him, maybe even make a desperate attempt to fight your way to freedom, the moment you realized where you were.
instead, you did none of it, you just simply stared him dead in the eye for a second long, (you didnt even ask him about his mask which was quite shocking or maybe you just didnt care why he wore, he didnt know) anyways, the silence was unsettling, but soon your gaze drifted toward the ceiling, and when you finally spoke, your voice came out hoarse and painfully rough. “when are you gonna kill me?” something in simon flared at the question. “It'll be too easy for ye, luv,” he rasped. “Need t' fuckin' —” suddenly he stopped mid-sentence when the zipper of your hoodie slipped down on its own, revealing bruises scattered across your chest, and his eyes immediately locked onto them, and whatever he'd been about to say died in his throat, and his heart squeezed painfully as a realization settled inside him --
someone had been hurting you, and his jaw clenched harder, his hands curling into fists as he shook his head slowly, almost as if he couldn't accept what he was seeing, and for the first time since he'd taken you, riley wasn't thinking about revenge anymore, or killing you.
he was wondering who the hell had hurt you so he can kill them instead, not that he would admit that to himself just yet.
kidnapper!riley who was almost amused by the fact that, instead of being afraid of him, you just accepted whatever was happening to you, and in hindsight, you looked fucking exhausted, as if being kidnapped by him was just another Sunday for you, and he couldn't decide whether to be concerned or impressed by how little you seemed to care.
kidnapper!riley with who you spent more time with, (what else choice did you have huh?) and soon, something between you both began to change (no shit sherlock) and instead of treating you badly or taking his anger out on you, simon started becoming protective of you in ways he couldn't quite explain.
because you were still supposed to be his means of getting revenge on your father, nothing more, yet somehow he found himself watching over you, making sure you ate, he even checked your bruises when you weren't paying attention, and becoming increasingly tense whenever something seemed to upset or threaten you.
and god the way he kept telling himself it was all part of the plan, that keeping you safe was simply another way of making sure his revenge went according to plan, but soon that excuse started sounding less convincing — even to him. and obviously simon refused to acknowledge what the hell that said about him.
kidnapper!Riley who finally made the call to your father, sending him the first picture he'd taken of you when he'd brought you there, at first he wanted to send only that, but then he stared at the screen for a moment before adding, “I have your secret too.” and he barely had time to put the phone down before your father's number flashed across the screen, when simon answered, he expected panic, rage, anything that might sound like a father terrified for his daughter.
instead, your father's first words were about the secret.
not where is she? not Is my daughter alive?
his concern was for himself : for what simon knew, for what might be exposed.
when simon used that to his 'benifit' he cut the phone and said, 'we will talk again' after that he went completely still, his jaw tightening as something cold settled in his chest, and he glanced toward your sleeping frame, then back at the phone, and suddenly the unfamiliar warmth settled somewhere in him though he told him it was just pity.
kidnapper!riley who hated that the fact, that the thought of killing you started to bother him, so somehow, he started delaying the fact that he was supposed to kill you. because now the target wasn't you anymore, not really.
yet he still kept you locked up, because he couldn't risk you running away, could he? at least, that was the excuse he kept feeding himself.
but what he didn't know was that you wouldn't have run anyway, bot anymore, because for the first time in years, you felt safe.
and you felt like you were somewhere you could breathe, somewhere you didn't have to constantly flinch or walk on eggshells.
somewhere that, strangely enough, felt like home, and the irony of it wasn't lost on you —you'd been kidnapped, for fucks sake, yet somehow, you'd never felt more free.
kidnapper!riley who just wanted to test you, so one evening he looked at you and said, “Your father doesn't care about you.” he expected you to argue, to defend him, maybe even get angry at the accusation. Instead, you simply shrugged, almost as if you'd expected it all along.
and somehow, that made simon even angrier, on your behalf.
kidnapper!riley who soon realized you two had more in common than he'd ever expected, because he was quite the loner type, and apparently, so were you, you didn't talk much at first, both of you comfortable with silence, but somehow you started spending more and more time around each other, and slowly, you opened up, and instead of telling you to shut the hell up or brushing you off like he'd expected himself to, simon riley actually listened, because he loved listening to you talk he even listened to most ridiculous stories you had to tell, and somehow, one month turned into two before either of you really noticed.
and soon, he felt this strange warmth spreading through his chest, settling dangerously close to something that looked a lot like love. but that wasn't right, was it? It couldn't be.
but before he knew it, he even told you his real name, showed you his face, which was stupid, completely fucking stupid, considering what he'd originally planned to do to you, and you could actually snitch on him, but he wanted you to know him, so eventually, he told you everything — what your father had done to his sister, what he'd taken from him, and why he'd hated your family for so long, and you listened quietly, your jaw tightening with every word, until you finally muttered, “That piece of shit needs to die.” simon stared at you for a second before a grin slowly pulled at his mouth, and he thought that's my girl.
kidnapper!riley who eventually noticed something strange — that there were no other calls by your father, obviously, and more so still no news about you being abducted, no frantic press conferences. Nothing. and it didn't take him long to figure out why, your father was too afraid that simon would air his dirty secret, so he'd rather keep your disappearance quiet than risk everything coming to light, but that motherfucker didn't know simon would expose him, no, or maybe even better, kill him eventually — just not yet, because simon was only procrastinating the inevitable, buying time while he figured out what to do next, so you dont end up caught in the crossfire, because if that happens he would have to let you go and he wasnt sure he had it in him to do that.
kidnapper!riley who couldn't help but notice the way you slept, your breathing shallow, and somehow he found himself watching you the whole night, like a fucking creep, after all he could not sleep either ways so he thought, he might just make better of it, and as he sees you his jaw clenches and he told himself he was only making sure you were okay, that it didn't mean anything, but every time your breathing changed, his eyes immediately went back to you, and he fucking hated how much he cared now.
kidnapper!riley who started noticing every little thing after that the way you flinched at sudden movements, the way you instinctively pulled your sleeves over your hands, the way you went quiet whenever something reminded you of home, and he'd be fucking lying if he said he didn't want to bury those people six feet under for taking something so beautiful from you, for making you feel like you had to hide yourself just to survive.
kidnapper!riley who when he finally saw your bruises properly when you were changing one day, and for a second, he just fucking froze, and of course he knew the reason for long sleeves, the way you sometimes flinched, the way you avoided certain movements, but seeing the bruises for himself was different, his eyes moved over the marks scattered across your skin, his jaw tightening as something dark and furious settled behind his expression, and he crossed the room without thinking, and he caught your hand gently, and looked at you, though his tone didnt match the worried expression on his face, “did yer father did this to ye?”
you clenched your jaw, immediately pulling your arm closer to yourself. “well, my father is a piece of shit, and he did it, so what?” you snapped, “what, you angry because your prey was already too broken before you even got to her, huh?”
and the words hit him harder than he was willing to admit, and riley's expression changes into a fire of fury, and for a moment he didn't say anything, because he hated the way you said it—as though being hurt was something you'd simply accepted, as though none of it mattered anymore, as though he had ever hurt you. “No,” he finally rasped, his voice low and carried the hint of someone who was bloodthirsty, “but he’s gonna fuckin' pay.” and you gave him a humorless laugh, looking straight into his eyes. “Are you a saint now, simon? after kidnapping me?” and his jaw flexed. “No,” he admitted quietly. “never said I was, luv.”
and he reached for your hands again and this time you didnt pull away and his thumb brushed once over your knuckles before his gaze returned to the bruises. “but I know a bastard when I see one, and hell be froze if I didnt make 'im pay for this.”
kidnapper!riley who finally realized just how deep his feelings had gotten when, right after that conversation, he pulled you into a hug without even thinking about it, and he didn't know why he did it — maybe because he'd seen the hurt in your eyes, maybe because he'd realized how long you'd been carrying it alone, but the second his arms wrapped around you, you melted right back into him, hugging him just as tightly, and something in simon went completely still.
and he held you a little closer, his jaw resting lightly against your hair, and for the first time, there was no excuse he could hide behind, because he knew this wasnt his revenge, and it wasn't guilt, it wasn't some twisted sense of responsibility, and he wanted you.
and right then, riley knew he'd break every damn law in the world if that was what it took to keep you with him.
kidnapper!riley who hadn't laid eyes on you properly in months, like of course, he'd seen you, but he had the decency to look away whenever you changed; whenever you werent fully clothed, and he never dared to look at you in any other way, but after he'd finally realized he was in love with you, that restraint didn't exactly help with how badly he wanted you, and when he finally did look, accidentally finding you sleeping on the bed in nothing but your bra and panties, as if you trusted your kidnapper, because how in the hell you were so careless?, and just then something dangerous snapped taut inside him, because seeing the vulnerability of you, stripped down and exposed before him, his to look at but never to take without your consent, so naturally it sent blood rushing south so fast his vision blurred at the edges, and his cock strained against the denim of his jeans, heavy and insistent, and he felt a dull ache that demanded relief.
soon his jaw tightened as he forced himself to look away, and suddenly a low groan rumbled low in his chest, and he forced himself to step back, out of the room, before he did something he'd regret.
and swiftly he entered his room and when the door to his own room clicked shut, he was shedding his clothes before he even reached the bed ; shirt yanked over his head, jeans shoved down his hips, kicked off with his boots, and soon he walked and collapsed onto the mattress, his naked skin against the cool sheets felt perfect, but this time he didn't bother with anything else.
instead his fist closed around his erected cock, and he stroked himself with brutal, desperate rhythm, chasing the release that had been building since the moment he saw you, again and again, he groaned and jerked himself off squeezing the life out of his cock, working himself way too roughly, until his hips bucked off the bed and his release spilled all over his knuckles and stomach in thick, endless spurts, yet he didn't stop until he was spent, until there was nothing left to give, just the ragged sound of his own breathing and the phantom image of you, burned behind his eyelid.
kidnapper!riley who knew, that he wanted you way too much to pretend otherwise.
kidnapper!Riley who, as he looked at you the next morning, finally realized what he'd been thinking about all night, that he was done pretending you were the target. Instead, he was thinking about finishing the job by going after your father, because he knew that man needed to fucking pay for what he'd done -- to his sister and you.
kidnapper!riley who didn't tell you where he was going that night, and before leaving, he deliberately left the lock of the safe house open, just to see what you'd do when you realized you were free to walk out, the risk was fucking enormous, because if you ran, he'd have to find you, chase you down, and bring you back here himself, and he knew that, after all he'd prepared himself for it, but some stupid, stubborn part of him still hoped you wouldn't.
he wanted to see what you'd choose when no one was forcing you to stay, so he left the door unlocked and disappeared into the night, carrying the weight of that decision with him, like a vice. and maybe that was the most fucked-up part of all — a kidnapper walking out there, hoping his own victim wouldn't run.
Kidnapper!Riley who finally confronted your father, and the confrontation ended with the man dead, his blood staining Simon's hands, he didn't even know how many times he'd stabbed him; all he knew was that years of rage had finally boiled over, leaving him standing there in the silence with the weight of what he'd done settling heavily in his chest, and the revenge he'd carried for years was finally over, yet instead of feeling victorious, he felt strangely hollow, still, buried beneath that emptiness, there was a small, bitter part of him that felt satisfied, that he'd finally made the man pay.
kidnapper!riley when he finally came home, he was covered in blood, and for one horrible second, a part of him thought you'd run, because the safe house was still open, the silence inside almost too fucking quiet, and his stomach dropped as he stepped through the doorway, but then he saw you, and god you were still there, but before he could even say anything, you ran toward him, your eyes immediately scanning over him in panic. “Are you hurt?” Simon stared at you for a second, almost unable to process the fact that you'd stayed. “No,” he answered flatly, his voice strangely calm, and you looked at the blood covering him, clearly unconvinced, but before you could ask again, he said,
“I killed yer father.”
The words fell between you like a weight. His expression didn't change, but his eyes stayed fixed on yours. “For hurting ye,” he continued, his voice low and rough. “For my sister.”
and suddenly, what shocked you the most wasn't the blood staining his clothes or even the fact that he'd killed your father. It was the realization that you weren't scared of him at all. Not even a little. Instead, your chest tightened at an entirely different thought—you were worried he would get caught, you were worried about him, about what would happen if someone found out.
kidnapper!riley who freezes when you grab the front of his collar and yank him down, and kiss him hard, and something wild and desperate that tastes like defiance, fills his heart and for a heartbeat, he doesn't move, he just stands there shocked rigid against your mouth, then something in him shatters, and he deepens the kiss, and suddenly the kiss is battlefield of teeth and tongue and breathless moans.
a part of him knew he can't hold back anymore, so swiftly his hands tear at your clothes with frantic, brutal urgency, and the fabric rips in one strong motion beneath the grip of his hands, and soon, he guides you back onto his bed, the mattress dipping under your weight, and his eyes burn black with hunger, though it doesnt change the fact he is still bloody from whatever mess came before, smearing rust-red streaks across his skin, but neither of you cared anymore, instead simon growls, "spread yer legs for me, luv," and god you do, almost trembling beneath him and he grunts—this raw, animal sound—and pushes his cock inside your cunt in one heavy thrust, and the stretch burns so perfectly that you cry out his name, arching off the bed, and he moans your name like a prayer and a curse all twisted together, then he fucks you for hours, sweat-slick and ravaging your cunt, until your vision tunnels and your body gives out completely, and you pass out beneath him, limp and used and blissed.
but when you wake up, the room is dim, your thighs are shaking, and riley is still there, still buried between your legs, his face pressed into your folds like he's starving, and as he feel you stir he looks up at you, his lips shining from your arousal, and he murmurs against your sensitive skin: "sleep, luv, I 'ave got you."
then he dives back in, tongue working you with slow, filthy devotion, licking and sucking like he needs your taste to survive, and he doesn't stop, instead he keeps worshipping you with his mouth until exhaustion finally drags him under — his head still resting against your thigh, his breathing soft and steady, and he passes out with his lips brushing your folds though you dont move , you just sleep there ruined below him while his soft groans and murmurs seeps in your flesh.
Kidnapper!Riley who, after that, made sure the two of you ran to somewhere secluded, far away from your father's reach and anyone who might come looking for you, and once you were there, he looked at you and said quietly, “Ye'll be safe here, and also ye're free to go. Yer father's dead, no one would hurt ye anymore.” and he genuinely meant it this time, he wasn't going to lock the door, wasn't going to stop you if you wanted to leave, and yet, you stayed with him, making a conscious choice of it, not because you were trapped anymore, not because you had nowhere else to go, but because, the man who'd kidnapped you had become the person you felt safest with.
kidnapper!riley who still watches over you whenever you go out though, well old habits rarely die hard.
kidnapper!riley when you wake up from a nightmare, he'll he there holding you in his arms cradling your body until your breathing slows and when you finally sleeps lulls you under, he makes sure to hold you whole night.
kidnapper!riley doesn't sleep at all, instead he feasts.
okay, that means half his waking hours, he's buried between your thighs, his tongue working your cunt with ravenous focus, stubble scraping your inner thighs raw, which is perfect, and when he wakes you at dawn licking through your folds, groaning against your sensitive flesh, drinking you down like you're his only sustenance, you come hard and he licks every drop of it, then he starts again, "can't get enough," he mumbles against your wetness. "too fucking sweet luv, ye ruined my apeptie for anything else."
and swear to god that makes you fall even harder for him, when he's not eating you out, he's fucking you into delirium, night into day and day into night again, against the wall at midnight, slow and deep at noon, your legs wrapped around his waist while he drives up into you with punishing strokes. "Takin' me so well," he breathes, hips rolling. "your cunt was made to belong to me, luvie."
and he makes you cum thrice in a row and he doesn't stop when you pass out, he just slows his pace, and, keeps you full of him until you wake trembling beneath him, then he fucks you through your tears, "please, riley, too much," and even as you said it you were sure you didnt want him to stop and as if he knew your thoughts he only thrusts harder into your hole. "yes, ye can," he grits out. "gunna fuck ye until you forget yer name, until mine's the only word you know."
by the time he's through with you, you're boneless.
and it has been like this for months, and for you, night and day don't exist, its only riley, only his mouth, his cock, his voice, and only the endless, delicious torture of being his.
kidnapper!riley who never calls himself your savior, after all he has no right to do so, in fact, he'll remind you that he kidnapped you in the first place and you had smile that you were grateful he did and one evening, when you quietly tell him, “thank you for getting me out,” he looks away for a long moment before murmuring, “didn't do it for thanks, luv, just knew here is the only place ye should be.”
kidnapper!riley who was now your boyfriend, and honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way, after all he cared for you like you were his trophy wife, spoiling you, fussing over you, and making sure you were always safe, sure, it was a little—okay, very much—fucked up, but you were happy that it happened like this, and you could not be happier that you were here, you were safe, and now you were tucked into his arms, knowing you'd spend the rest of your lives together.
genre/cw : abduction, reader is abused by their father , sfw, nsfw, language, 18+, dead-dove, kinda? ooc-simon not really i dunno lmao, stalker!simon, blood, bruises mentions of murder, Stockholm syndrome , somnophilia , possesive/territorial simon
kidnapper!riley who abducted you because, well, you were the daughter of the state minister—the very man who had simon's sister killed simply because she was a journalist who'd gotten too close to the truth and had uncovered dirt on him.
don't ask how simon riley knew; because somehow, he'd managed to get his hands on the proof, and now all that grief he'd carried for years had turned into a boiling, vicious need for revenge.
now he wanted the minister to suffer the way he had, and what better way than to take his precious daughter from him?
so he made a plan and it was simple : kidnap you, make him watch, and eventually kill you right in front of him, or at least, that's what simon told himself when he planned the kidnapping.
kidnapper!riley who had kept tabs on you for two fucking months — about your whereabouts, where you went, who you met, where you ate, when you came home, every little detail of your routine, which route you took home, and even the little habits you probably didn't realize, and anyone noticed, seeing this or him being so invested in this -- some people might even say simon knew your schedule better than you did, after all it was totally for revenge.. at least, that's what he kept telling himself every time he found himself watching you for longer than necessary.
kidnapper!riley who was not at all impressed by you (atleast he let himself believe that), but still he could not help but think you weren't anything like the other rich kids he'd expected, you didn't spend your nights at parties or flaunting your father's money; instead most of your time was spent in libraries, buried beneath books and notes, which, admittedly, made his job a hell of a lot more difficult — and somehow made you far more interesting to watch than he thought.
kidnapper!riley who noticed you always wore long sleeves, even during the fucking summer, and now... he was intrigued, because it wasn't something he'd expected to notice, let alone care about, but he found himself wondering why.
was it a skin condition? did you just hate the heat?
or was there some other reason you kept your arms covered? the question lingered in his mind longer than it should have, and somewhere beneath all the anger, another voice quietly popped into his mind -- what if she’s hurt?
he hated it immediately, hated how quickly concern had crept into his thoughts when you were supposed to be nothing more than revenge, and yet, he knew, if someone had hurt you, if there was someone responsible for whatever you were hiding beneath those sleeves, simon knew with frightening certainty that they would pay the fucking price.
kidnapper!riley who had taken you somewhere secluded, your arms secured behind the chair as he waited for you to wake up.
as you finally woke up fluttering your lashes he'd expected you to panic, scream at him, maybe even make a desperate attempt to fight your way to freedom, the moment you realized where you were.
instead, you did none of it, you just simply stared him dead in the eye for a second long, (you didnt even ask him about his mask which was quite shocking or maybe you just didnt care why he wore, he didnt know) anyways, the silence was unsettling, but soon your gaze drifted toward the ceiling, and when you finally spoke, your voice came out hoarse and painfully rough. “when are you gonna kill me?” something in simon flared at the question. “It'll be too easy for ye, luv,” he rasped. “Need t' fuckin' —” suddenly he stopped mid-sentence when the zipper of your hoodie slipped down on its own, revealing bruises scattered across your chest, and his eyes immediately locked onto them, and whatever he'd been about to say died in his throat, and his heart squeezed painfully as a realization settled inside him --
someone had been hurting you, and his jaw clenched harder, his hands curling into fists as he shook his head slowly, almost as if he couldn't accept what he was seeing, and for the first time since he'd taken you, riley wasn't thinking about revenge anymore, or killing you.
he was wondering who the hell had hurt you so he can kill them instead, not that he would admit that to himself just yet.
kidnapper!riley who was almost amused by the fact that, instead of being afraid of him, you just accepted whatever was happening to you, and in hindsight, you looked fucking exhausted, as if being kidnapped by him was just another Sunday for you, and he couldn't decide whether to be concerned or impressed by how little you seemed to care.
kidnapper!riley with who you spent more time with, (what else choice did you have huh?) and soon, something between you both began to change (no shit sherlock) and instead of treating you badly or taking his anger out on you, simon started becoming protective of you in ways he couldn't quite explain.
because you were still supposed to be his means of getting revenge on your father, nothing more, yet somehow he found himself watching over you, making sure you ate, he even checked your bruises when you weren't paying attention, and becoming increasingly tense whenever something seemed to upset or threaten you.
and god the way he kept telling himself it was all part of the plan, that keeping you safe was simply another way of making sure his revenge went according to plan, but soon that excuse started sounding less convincing — even to him. and obviously simon refused to acknowledge what the hell that said about him.
kidnapper!Riley who finally made the call to your father, sending him the first picture he'd taken of you when he'd brought you there, at first he wanted to send only that, but then he stared at the screen for a moment before adding, “I have your secret too.” and he barely had time to put the phone down before your father's number flashed across the screen, when simon answered, he expected panic, rage, anything that might sound like a father terrified for his daughter.
instead, your father's first words were about the secret.
not where is she? not Is my daughter alive?
his concern was for himself : for what simon knew, for what might be exposed.
when simon used that to his 'benifit' he cut the phone and said, 'we will talk again' after that he went completely still, his jaw tightening as something cold settled in his chest, and he glanced toward your sleeping frame, then back at the phone, and suddenly the unfamiliar warmth settled somewhere in him though he told him it was just pity.
kidnapper!riley who hated that the fact, that the thought of killing you started to bother him, so somehow, he started delaying the fact that he was supposed to kill you. because now the target wasn't you anymore, not really.
yet he still kept you locked up, because he couldn't risk you running away, could he? at least, that was the excuse he kept feeding himself.
but what he didn't know was that you wouldn't have run anyway, bot anymore, because for the first time in years, you felt safe.
and you felt like you were somewhere you could breathe, somewhere you didn't have to constantly flinch or walk on eggshells.
somewhere that, strangely enough, felt like home, and the irony of it wasn't lost on you —you'd been kidnapped, for fucks sake, yet somehow, you'd never felt more free.
kidnapper!riley who just wanted to test you, so one evening he looked at you and said, “Your father doesn't care about you.” he expected you to argue, to defend him, maybe even get angry at the accusation. Instead, you simply shrugged, almost as if you'd expected it all along.
and somehow, that made simon even angrier, on your behalf.
kidnapper!riley who soon realized you two had more in common than he'd ever expected, because he was quite the loner type, and apparently, so were you, you didn't talk much at first, both of you comfortable with silence, but somehow you started spending more and more time around each other, and slowly, you opened up, and instead of telling you to shut the hell up or brushing you off like he'd expected himself to, simon riley actually listened, because he loved listening to you talk he even listened to most ridiculous stories you had to tell, and somehow, one month turned into two before either of you really noticed.
and soon, he felt this strange warmth spreading through his chest, settling dangerously close to something that looked a lot like love. but that wasn't right, was it? It couldn't be.
but before he knew it, he even told you his real name, showed you his face, which was stupid, completely fucking stupid, considering what he'd originally planned to do to you, and you could actually snitch on him, but he wanted you to know him, so eventually, he told you everything — what your father had done to his sister, what he'd taken from him, and why he'd hated your family for so long, and you listened quietly, your jaw tightening with every word, until you finally muttered, “That piece of shit needs to die.” simon stared at you for a second before a grin slowly pulled at his mouth, and he thought that's my girl.
kidnapper!riley who eventually noticed something strange — that there were no other calls by your father, obviously, and more so still no news about you being abducted, no frantic press conferences. Nothing. and it didn't take him long to figure out why, your father was too afraid that simon would air his dirty secret, so he'd rather keep your disappearance quiet than risk everything coming to light, but that motherfucker didn't know simon would expose him, no, or maybe even better, kill him eventually — just not yet, because simon was only procrastinating the inevitable, buying time while he figured out what to do next, so you dont end up caught in the crossfire, because if that happens he would have to let you go and he wasnt sure he had it in him to do that.
kidnapper!riley who couldn't help but notice the way you slept, your breathing shallow, and somehow he found himself watching you the whole night, like a fucking creep, after all he could not sleep either ways so he thought, he might just make better of it, and as he sees you his jaw clenches and he told himself he was only making sure you were okay, that it didn't mean anything, but every time your breathing changed, his eyes immediately went back to you, and he fucking hated how much he cared now.
kidnapper!riley who started noticing every little thing after that the way you flinched at sudden movements, the way you instinctively pulled your sleeves over your hands, the way you went quiet whenever something reminded you of home, and he'd be fucking lying if he said he didn't want to bury those people six feet under for taking something so beautiful from you, for making you feel like you had to hide yourself just to survive.
kidnapper!riley who when he finally saw your bruises properly when you were changing one day, and for a second, he just fucking froze, and of course he knew the reason for long sleeves, the way you sometimes flinched, the way you avoided certain movements, but seeing the bruises for himself was different, his eyes moved over the marks scattered across your skin, his jaw tightening as something dark and furious settled behind his expression, and he crossed the room without thinking, and he caught your hand gently, and looked at you, though his tone didnt match the worried expression on his face, “did yer father did this to ye?”
you clenched your jaw, immediately pulling your arm closer to yourself. “well, my father is a piece of shit, and he did it, so what?” you snapped, “what, you angry because your prey was already too broken before you even got to her, huh?”
and the words hit him harder than he was willing to admit, and riley's expression changes into a fire of fury, and for a moment he didn't say anything, because he hated the way you said it—as though being hurt was something you'd simply accepted, as though none of it mattered anymore, as though he had ever hurt you. “No,” he finally rasped, his voice low and carried the hint of someone who was bloodthirsty, “but he’s gonna fuckin' pay.” and you gave him a humorless laugh, looking straight into his eyes. “Are you a saint now, simon? after kidnapping me?” and his jaw flexed. “No,” he admitted quietly. “never said I was, luv.”
and he reached for your hands again and this time you didnt pull away and his thumb brushed once over your knuckles before his gaze returned to the bruises. “but I know a bastard when I see one, and hell be froze if I didnt make 'im pay for this.”
kidnapper!riley who finally realized just how deep his feelings had gotten when, right after that conversation, he pulled you into a hug without even thinking about it, and he didn't know why he did it — maybe because he'd seen the hurt in your eyes, maybe because he'd realized how long you'd been carrying it alone, but the second his arms wrapped around you, you melted right back into him, hugging him just as tightly, and something in simon went completely still.
and he held you a little closer, his jaw resting lightly against your hair, and for the first time, there was no excuse he could hide behind, because he knew this wasnt his revenge, and it wasn't guilt, it wasn't some twisted sense of responsibility, and he wanted you.
and right then, riley knew he'd break every damn law in the world if that was what it took to keep you with him.
kidnapper!riley who hadn't laid eyes on you properly in months, like of course, he'd seen you, but he had the decency to look away whenever you changed; whenever you werent fully clothed, and he never dared to look at you in any other way, but after he'd finally realized he was in love with you, that restraint didn't exactly help with how badly he wanted you, and when he finally did look, accidentally finding you sleeping on the bed in nothing but your bra and panties, as if you trusted your kidnapper, because how in the hell you were so careless?, and just then something dangerous snapped taut inside him, because seeing the vulnerability of you, stripped down and exposed before him, his to look at but never to take without your consent, so naturally it sent blood rushing south so fast his vision blurred at the edges, and his cock strained against the denim of his jeans, heavy and insistent, and he felt a dull ache that demanded relief.
soon his jaw tightened as he forced himself to look away, and suddenly a low groan rumbled low in his chest, and he forced himself to step back, out of the room, before he did something he'd regret.
and swiftly he entered his room and when the door to his own room clicked shut, he was shedding his clothes before he even reached the bed ; shirt yanked over his head, jeans shoved down his hips, kicked off with his boots, and soon he walked and collapsed onto the mattress, his naked skin against the cool sheets felt perfect, but this time he didn't bother with anything else.
instead his fist closed around his erected cock, and he stroked himself with brutal, desperate rhythm, chasing the release that had been building since the moment he saw you, again and again, he groaned and jerked himself off squeezing the life out of his cock, working himself way too roughly, until his hips bucked off the bed and his release spilled all over his knuckles and stomach in thick, endless spurts, yet he didn't stop until he was spent, until there was nothing left to give, just the ragged sound of his own breathing and the phantom image of you, burned behind his eyelid.
kidnapper!riley who knew, that he wanted you way too much to pretend otherwise.
kidnapper!Riley who, as he looked at you the next morning, finally realized what he'd been thinking about all night, that he was done pretending you were the target. Instead, he was thinking about finishing the job by going after your father, because he knew that man needed to fucking pay for what he'd done -- to his sister and you.
kidnapper!riley who didn't tell you where he was going that night, and before leaving, he deliberately left the lock of the safe house open, just to see what you'd do when you realized you were free to walk out, the risk was fucking enormous, because if you ran, he'd have to find you, chase you down, and bring you back here himself, and he knew that, after all he'd prepared himself for it, but some stupid, stubborn part of him still hoped you wouldn't.
he wanted to see what you'd choose when no one was forcing you to stay, so he left the door unlocked and disappeared into the night, carrying the weight of that decision with him, like a vice. and maybe that was the most fucked-up part of all — a kidnapper walking out there, hoping his own victim wouldn't run.
Kidnapper!Riley who finally confronted your father, and the confrontation ended with the man dead, his blood staining Simon's hands, he didn't even know how many times he'd stabbed him; all he knew was that years of rage had finally boiled over, leaving him standing there in the silence with the weight of what he'd done settling heavily in his chest, and the revenge he'd carried for years was finally over, yet instead of feeling victorious, he felt strangely hollow, still, buried beneath that emptiness, there was a small, bitter part of him that felt satisfied, that he'd finally made the man pay.
kidnapper!riley when he finally came home, he was covered in blood, and for one horrible second, a part of him thought you'd run, because the safe house was still open, the silence inside almost too fucking quiet, and his stomach dropped as he stepped through the doorway, but then he saw you, and god you were still there, but before he could even say anything, you ran toward him, your eyes immediately scanning over him in panic. “Are you hurt?” Simon stared at you for a second, almost unable to process the fact that you'd stayed. “No,” he answered flatly, his voice strangely calm, and you looked at the blood covering him, clearly unconvinced, but before you could ask again, he said,
“I killed yer father.”
The words fell between you like a weight. His expression didn't change, but his eyes stayed fixed on yours. “For hurting ye,” he continued, his voice low and rough. “For my sister.”
and suddenly, what shocked you the most wasn't the blood staining his clothes or even the fact that he'd killed your father. It was the realization that you weren't scared of him at all. Not even a little. Instead, your chest tightened at an entirely different thought—you were worried he would get caught, you were worried about him, about what would happen if someone found out.
kidnapper!riley who freezes when you grab the front of his collar and yank him down, and kiss him hard, and something wild and desperate that tastes like defiance, fills his heart and for a heartbeat, he doesn't move, he just stands there shocked rigid against your mouth, then something in him shatters, and he deepens the kiss, and suddenly the kiss is battlefield of teeth and tongue and breathless moans.
a part of him knew he can't hold back anymore, so swiftly his hands tear at your clothes with frantic, brutal urgency, and the fabric rips in one strong motion beneath the grip of his hands, and soon, he guides you back onto his bed, the mattress dipping under your weight, and his eyes burn black with hunger, though it doesnt change the fact he is still bloody from whatever mess came before, smearing rust-red streaks across his skin, but neither of you cared anymore, instead simon growls, "spread yer legs for me, luv," and god you do, almost trembling beneath him and he grunts—this raw, animal sound—and pushes his cock inside your cunt in one heavy thrust, and the stretch burns so perfectly that you cry out his name, arching off the bed, and he moans your name like a prayer and a curse all twisted together, then he fucks you for hours, sweat-slick and ravaging your cunt, until your vision tunnels and your body gives out completely, and you pass out beneath him, limp and used and blissed.
but when you wake up, the room is dim, your thighs are shaking, and riley is still there, still buried between your legs, his face pressed into your folds like he's starving, and as he feel you stir he looks up at you, his lips shining from your arousal, and he murmurs against your sensitive skin: "sleep, luv, I 'ave got you."
then he dives back in, tongue working you with slow, filthy devotion, licking and sucking like he needs your taste to survive, and he doesn't stop, instead he keeps worshipping you with his mouth until exhaustion finally drags him under — his head still resting against your thigh, his breathing soft and steady, and he passes out with his lips brushing your folds though you dont move , you just sleep there ruined below him while his soft groans and murmurs seeps in your flesh.
Kidnapper!Riley who, after that, made sure the two of you ran to somewhere secluded, far away from your father's reach and anyone who might come looking for you, and once you were there, he looked at you and said quietly, “Ye'll be safe here, and also ye're free to go. Yer father's dead, no one would hurt ye anymore.” and he genuinely meant it this time, he wasn't going to lock the door, wasn't going to stop you if you wanted to leave, and yet, you stayed with him, making a conscious choice of it, not because you were trapped anymore, not because you had nowhere else to go, but because, the man who'd kidnapped you had become the person you felt safest with.
kidnapper!riley who still watches over you whenever you go out though, well old habits rarely die hard.
kidnapper!riley when you wake up from a nightmare, he'll he there holding you in his arms cradling your body until your breathing slows and when you finally sleeps lulls you under, he makes sure to hold you whole night.
kidnapper!riley doesn't sleep at all, instead he feasts.
okay, that means half his waking hours, he's buried between your thighs, his tongue working your cunt with ravenous focus, stubble scraping your inner thighs raw, which is perfect, and when he wakes you at dawn licking through your folds, groaning against your sensitive flesh, drinking you down like you're his only sustenance, you come hard and he licks every drop of it, then he starts again, "can't get enough," he mumbles against your wetness. "too fucking sweet luv, ye ruined my apeptie for anything else."
and swear to god that makes you fall even harder for him, when he's not eating you out, he's fucking you into delirium, night into day and day into night again, against the wall at midnight, slow and deep at noon, your legs wrapped around his waist while he drives up into you with punishing strokes. "Takin' me so well," he breathes, hips rolling. "your cunt was made to belong to me, luvie."
and he makes you cum thrice in a row and he doesn't stop when you pass out, he just slows his pace, and, keeps you full of him until you wake trembling beneath him, then he fucks you through your tears, "please, riley, too much," and even as you said it you were sure you didnt want him to stop and as if he knew your thoughts he only thrusts harder into your hole. "yes, ye can," he grits out. "gunna fuck ye until you forget yer name, until mine's the only word you know."
by the time he's through with you, you're boneless.
and it has been like this for months, and for you, night and day don't exist, its only riley, only his mouth, his cock, his voice, and only the endless, delicious torture of being his.
kidnapper!riley who never calls himself your savior, after all he has no right to do so, in fact, he'll remind you that he kidnapped you in the first place and you had smile that you were grateful he did and one evening, when you quietly tell him, “thank you for getting me out,” he looks away for a long moment before murmuring, “didn't do it for thanks, luv, just knew here is the only place ye should be.”
kidnapper!riley who was now your boyfriend, and honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way, after all he cared for you like you were his trophy wife, spoiling you, fussing over you, and making sure you were always safe, sure, it was a little—okay, very much—fucked up, but you were happy that it happened like this, and you could not be happier that you were here, you were safe, and now you were tucked into his arms, knowing you'd spend the rest of your lives together.
genre/cw : abduction, reader is abused by their father , sfw, nsfw, language, 18+, dead-dove, kinda? ooc-simon not really i dunno lmao, stalker!simon, blood, bruises mentions of murder, Stockholm syndrome , somnophilia , possesive/territorial simon
kidnapper!riley who abducted you because, well, you were the daughter of the state minister—the very man who had simon's sister killed simply because she was a journalist who'd gotten too close to the truth and had uncovered dirt on him.
don't ask how simon riley knew; because somehow, he'd managed to get his hands on the proof, and now all that grief he'd carried for years had turned into a boiling, vicious need for revenge.
now he wanted the minister to suffer the way he had, and what better way than to take his precious daughter from him?
so he made a plan and it was simple : kidnap you, make him watch, and eventually kill you right in front of him, or at least, that's what simon told himself when he planned the kidnapping.
kidnapper!riley who had kept tabs on you for two fucking months — about your whereabouts, where you went, who you met, where you ate, when you came home, every little detail of your routine, which route you took home, and even the little habits you probably didn't realize, and anyone noticed, seeing this or him being so invested in this -- some people might even say simon knew your schedule better than you did, after all it was totally for revenge.. at least, that's what he kept telling himself every time he found himself watching you for longer than necessary.
kidnapper!riley who was not at all impressed by you (atleast he let himself believe that), but still he could not help but think you weren't anything like the other rich kids he'd expected, you didn't spend your nights at parties or flaunting your father's money; instead most of your time was spent in libraries, buried beneath books and notes, which, admittedly, made his job a hell of a lot more difficult — and somehow made you far more interesting to watch than he thought.
kidnapper!riley who noticed you always wore long sleeves, even during the fucking summer, and now... he was intrigued, because it wasn't something he'd expected to notice, let alone care about, but he found himself wondering why.
was it a skin condition? did you just hate the heat?
or was there some other reason you kept your arms covered? the question lingered in his mind longer than it should have, and somewhere beneath all the anger, another voice quietly popped into his mind -- what if she’s hurt?
he hated it immediately, hated how quickly concern had crept into his thoughts when you were supposed to be nothing more than revenge, and yet, he knew, if someone had hurt you, if there was someone responsible for whatever you were hiding beneath those sleeves, simon knew with frightening certainty that they would pay the fucking price.
kidnapper!riley who had taken you somewhere secluded, your arms secured behind the chair as he waited for you to wake up.
as you finally woke up fluttering your lashes he'd expected you to panic, scream at him, maybe even make a desperate attempt to fight your way to freedom, the moment you realized where you were.
instead, you did none of it, you just simply stared him dead in the eye for a second long, (you didnt even ask him about his mask which was quite shocking or maybe you just didnt care why he wore, he didnt know) anyways, the silence was unsettling, but soon your gaze drifted toward the ceiling, and when you finally spoke, your voice came out hoarse and painfully rough. “when are you gonna kill me?” something in simon flared at the question. “It'll be too easy for ye, luv,” he rasped. “Need t' fuckin' —” suddenly he stopped mid-sentence when the zipper of your hoodie slipped down on its own, revealing bruises scattered across your chest, and his eyes immediately locked onto them, and whatever he'd been about to say died in his throat, and his heart squeezed painfully as a realization settled inside him --
someone had been hurting you, and his jaw clenched harder, his hands curling into fists as he shook his head slowly, almost as if he couldn't accept what he was seeing, and for the first time since he'd taken you, riley wasn't thinking about revenge anymore, or killing you.
he was wondering who the hell had hurt you so he can kill them instead, not that he would admit that to himself just yet.
kidnapper!riley who was almost amused by the fact that, instead of being afraid of him, you just accepted whatever was happening to you, and in hindsight, you looked fucking exhausted, as if being kidnapped by him was just another Sunday for you, and he couldn't decide whether to be concerned or impressed by how little you seemed to care.
kidnapper!riley with who you spent more time with, (what else choice did you have huh?) and soon, something between you both began to change (no shit sherlock) and instead of treating you badly or taking his anger out on you, simon started becoming protective of you in ways he couldn't quite explain.
because you were still supposed to be his means of getting revenge on your father, nothing more, yet somehow he found himself watching over you, making sure you ate, he even checked your bruises when you weren't paying attention, and becoming increasingly tense whenever something seemed to upset or threaten you.
and god the way he kept telling himself it was all part of the plan, that keeping you safe was simply another way of making sure his revenge went according to plan, but soon that excuse started sounding less convincing — even to him. and obviously simon refused to acknowledge what the hell that said about him.
kidnapper!Riley who finally made the call to your father, sending him the first picture he'd taken of you when he'd brought you there, at first he wanted to send only that, but then he stared at the screen for a moment before adding, “I have your secret too.” and he barely had time to put the phone down before your father's number flashed across the screen, when simon answered, he expected panic, rage, anything that might sound like a father terrified for his daughter.
instead, your father's first words were about the secret.
not where is she? not Is my daughter alive?
his concern was for himself : for what simon knew, for what might be exposed.
when simon used that to his 'benifit' he cut the phone and said, 'we will talk again' after that he went completely still, his jaw tightening as something cold settled in his chest, and he glanced toward your sleeping frame, then back at the phone, and suddenly the unfamiliar warmth settled somewhere in him though he told him it was just pity.
kidnapper!riley who hated that the fact, that the thought of killing you started to bother him, so somehow, he started delaying the fact that he was supposed to kill you. because now the target wasn't you anymore, not really.
yet he still kept you locked up, because he couldn't risk you running away, could he? at least, that was the excuse he kept feeding himself.
but what he didn't know was that you wouldn't have run anyway, bot anymore, because for the first time in years, you felt safe.
and you felt like you were somewhere you could breathe, somewhere you didn't have to constantly flinch or walk on eggshells.
somewhere that, strangely enough, felt like home, and the irony of it wasn't lost on you —you'd been kidnapped, for fucks sake, yet somehow, you'd never felt more free.
kidnapper!riley who just wanted to test you, so one evening he looked at you and said, “Your father doesn't care about you.” he expected you to argue, to defend him, maybe even get angry at the accusation. Instead, you simply shrugged, almost as if you'd expected it all along.
and somehow, that made simon even angrier, on your behalf.
kidnapper!riley who soon realized you two had more in common than he'd ever expected, because he was quite the loner type, and apparently, so were you, you didn't talk much at first, both of you comfortable with silence, but somehow you started spending more and more time around each other, and slowly, you opened up, and instead of telling you to shut the hell up or brushing you off like he'd expected himself to, simon riley actually listened, because he loved listening to you talk he even listened to most ridiculous stories you had to tell, and somehow, one month turned into two before either of you really noticed.
and soon, he felt this strange warmth spreading through his chest, settling dangerously close to something that looked a lot like love. but that wasn't right, was it? It couldn't be.
but before he knew it, he even told you his real name, showed you his face, which was stupid, completely fucking stupid, considering what he'd originally planned to do to you, and you could actually snitch on him, but he wanted you to know him, so eventually, he told you everything — what your father had done to his sister, what he'd taken from him, and why he'd hated your family for so long, and you listened quietly, your jaw tightening with every word, until you finally muttered, “That piece of shit needs to die.” simon stared at you for a second before a grin slowly pulled at his mouth, and he thought that's my girl.
kidnapper!riley who eventually noticed something strange — that there were no other calls by your father, obviously, and more so still no news about you being abducted, no frantic press conferences. Nothing. and it didn't take him long to figure out why, your father was too afraid that simon would air his dirty secret, so he'd rather keep your disappearance quiet than risk everything coming to light, but that motherfucker didn't know simon would expose him, no, or maybe even better, kill him eventually — just not yet, because simon was only procrastinating the inevitable, buying time while he figured out what to do next, so you dont end up caught in the crossfire, because if that happens he would have to let you go and he wasnt sure he had it in him to do that.
kidnapper!riley who couldn't help but notice the way you slept, your breathing shallow, and somehow he found himself watching you the whole night, like a fucking creep, after all he could not sleep either ways so he thought, he might just make better of it, and as he sees you his jaw clenches and he told himself he was only making sure you were okay, that it didn't mean anything, but every time your breathing changed, his eyes immediately went back to you, and he fucking hated how much he cared now.
kidnapper!riley who started noticing every little thing after that the way you flinched at sudden movements, the way you instinctively pulled your sleeves over your hands, the way you went quiet whenever something reminded you of home, and he'd be fucking lying if he said he didn't want to bury those people six feet under for taking something so beautiful from you, for making you feel like you had to hide yourself just to survive.
kidnapper!riley who when he finally saw your bruises properly when you were changing one day, and for a second, he just fucking froze, and of course he knew the reason for long sleeves, the way you sometimes flinched, the way you avoided certain movements, but seeing the bruises for himself was different, his eyes moved over the marks scattered across your skin, his jaw tightening as something dark and furious settled behind his expression, and he crossed the room without thinking, and he caught your hand gently, and looked at you, though his tone didnt match the worried expression on his face, “did yer father did this to ye?”
you clenched your jaw, immediately pulling your arm closer to yourself. “well, my father is a piece of shit, and he did it, so what?” you snapped, “what, you angry because your prey was already too broken before you even got to her, huh?”
and the words hit him harder than he was willing to admit, and riley's expression changes into a fire of fury, and for a moment he didn't say anything, because he hated the way you said it—as though being hurt was something you'd simply accepted, as though none of it mattered anymore, as though he had ever hurt you. “No,” he finally rasped, his voice low and carried the hint of someone who was bloodthirsty, “but he’s gonna fuckin' pay.” and you gave him a humorless laugh, looking straight into his eyes. “Are you a saint now, simon? after kidnapping me?” and his jaw flexed. “No,” he admitted quietly. “never said I was, luv.”
and he reached for your hands again and this time you didnt pull away and his thumb brushed once over your knuckles before his gaze returned to the bruises. “but I know a bastard when I see one, and hell be froze if I didnt make 'im pay for this.”
kidnapper!riley who finally realized just how deep his feelings had gotten when, right after that conversation, he pulled you into a hug without even thinking about it, and he didn't know why he did it — maybe because he'd seen the hurt in your eyes, maybe because he'd realized how long you'd been carrying it alone, but the second his arms wrapped around you, you melted right back into him, hugging him just as tightly, and something in simon went completely still.
and he held you a little closer, his jaw resting lightly against your hair, and for the first time, there was no excuse he could hide behind, because he knew this wasnt his revenge, and it wasn't guilt, it wasn't some twisted sense of responsibility, and he wanted you.
and right then, riley knew he'd break every damn law in the world if that was what it took to keep you with him.
kidnapper!riley who hadn't laid eyes on you properly in months, like of course, he'd seen you, but he had the decency to look away whenever you changed; whenever you werent fully clothed, and he never dared to look at you in any other way, but after he'd finally realized he was in love with you, that restraint didn't exactly help with how badly he wanted you, and when he finally did look, accidentally finding you sleeping on the bed in nothing but your bra and panties, as if you trusted your kidnapper, because how in the hell you were so careless?, and just then something dangerous snapped taut inside him, because seeing the vulnerability of you, stripped down and exposed before him, his to look at but never to take without your consent, so naturally it sent blood rushing south so fast his vision blurred at the edges, and his cock strained against the denim of his jeans, heavy and insistent, and he felt a dull ache that demanded relief.
soon his jaw tightened as he forced himself to look away, and suddenly a low groan rumbled low in his chest, and he forced himself to step back, out of the room, before he did something he'd regret.
and swiftly he entered his room and when the door to his own room clicked shut, he was shedding his clothes before he even reached the bed ; shirt yanked over his head, jeans shoved down his hips, kicked off with his boots, and soon he walked and collapsed onto the mattress, his naked skin against the cool sheets felt perfect, but this time he didn't bother with anything else.
instead his fist closed around his erected cock, and he stroked himself with brutal, desperate rhythm, chasing the release that had been building since the moment he saw you, again and again, he groaned and jerked himself off squeezing the life out of his cock, working himself way too roughly, until his hips bucked off the bed and his release spilled all over his knuckles and stomach in thick, endless spurts, yet he didn't stop until he was spent, until there was nothing left to give, just the ragged sound of his own breathing and the phantom image of you, burned behind his eyelid.
kidnapper!riley who knew, that he wanted you way too much to pretend otherwise.
kidnapper!Riley who, as he looked at you the next morning, finally realized what he'd been thinking about all night, that he was done pretending you were the target. Instead, he was thinking about finishing the job by going after your father, because he knew that man needed to fucking pay for what he'd done -- to his sister and you.
kidnapper!riley who didn't tell you where he was going that night, and before leaving, he deliberately left the lock of the safe house open, just to see what you'd do when you realized you were free to walk out, the risk was fucking enormous, because if you ran, he'd have to find you, chase you down, and bring you back here himself, and he knew that, after all he'd prepared himself for it, but some stupid, stubborn part of him still hoped you wouldn't.
he wanted to see what you'd choose when no one was forcing you to stay, so he left the door unlocked and disappeared into the night, carrying the weight of that decision with him, like a vice. and maybe that was the most fucked-up part of all — a kidnapper walking out there, hoping his own victim wouldn't run.
Kidnapper!Riley who finally confronted your father, and the confrontation ended with the man dead, his blood staining Simon's hands, he didn't even know how many times he'd stabbed him; all he knew was that years of rage had finally boiled over, leaving him standing there in the silence with the weight of what he'd done settling heavily in his chest, and the revenge he'd carried for years was finally over, yet instead of feeling victorious, he felt strangely hollow, still, buried beneath that emptiness, there was a small, bitter part of him that felt satisfied, that he'd finally made the man pay.
kidnapper!riley when he finally came home, he was covered in blood, and for one horrible second, a part of him thought you'd run, because the safe house was still open, the silence inside almost too fucking quiet, and his stomach dropped as he stepped through the doorway, but then he saw you, and god you were still there, but before he could even say anything, you ran toward him, your eyes immediately scanning over him in panic. “Are you hurt?” Simon stared at you for a second, almost unable to process the fact that you'd stayed. “No,” he answered flatly, his voice strangely calm, and you looked at the blood covering him, clearly unconvinced, but before you could ask again, he said,
“I killed yer father.”
The words fell between you like a weight. His expression didn't change, but his eyes stayed fixed on yours. “For hurting ye,” he continued, his voice low and rough. “For my sister.”
and suddenly, what shocked you the most wasn't the blood staining his clothes or even the fact that he'd killed your father. It was the realization that you weren't scared of him at all. Not even a little. Instead, your chest tightened at an entirely different thought—you were worried he would get caught, you were worried about him, about what would happen if someone found out.
kidnapper!riley who freezes when you grab the front of his collar and yank him down, and kiss him hard, and something wild and desperate that tastes like defiance, fills his heart and for a heartbeat, he doesn't move, he just stands there shocked rigid against your mouth, then something in him shatters, and he deepens the kiss, and suddenly the kiss is battlefield of teeth and tongue and breathless moans.
a part of him knew he can't hold back anymore, so swiftly his hands tear at your clothes with frantic, brutal urgency, and the fabric rips in one strong motion beneath the grip of his hands, and soon, he guides you back onto his bed, the mattress dipping under your weight, and his eyes burn black with hunger, though it doesnt change the fact he is still bloody from whatever mess came before, smearing rust-red streaks across his skin, but neither of you cared anymore, instead simon growls, "spread yer legs for me, luv," and god you do, almost trembling beneath him and he grunts—this raw, animal sound—and pushes his cock inside your cunt in one heavy thrust, and the stretch burns so perfectly that you cry out his name, arching off the bed, and he moans your name like a prayer and a curse all twisted together, then he fucks you for hours, sweat-slick and ravaging your cunt, until your vision tunnels and your body gives out completely, and you pass out beneath him, limp and used and blissed.
but when you wake up, the room is dim, your thighs are shaking, and riley is still there, still buried between your legs, his face pressed into your folds like he's starving, and as he feel you stir he looks up at you, his lips shining from your arousal, and he murmurs against your sensitive skin: "sleep, luv, I 'ave got you."
then he dives back in, tongue working you with slow, filthy devotion, licking and sucking like he needs your taste to survive, and he doesn't stop, instead he keeps worshipping you with his mouth until exhaustion finally drags him under — his head still resting against your thigh, his breathing soft and steady, and he passes out with his lips brushing your folds though you dont move , you just sleep there ruined below him while his soft groans and murmurs seeps in your flesh.
Kidnapper!Riley who, after that, made sure the two of you ran to somewhere secluded, far away from your father's reach and anyone who might come looking for you, and once you were there, he looked at you and said quietly, “Ye'll be safe here, and also ye're free to go. Yer father's dead, no one would hurt ye anymore.” and he genuinely meant it this time, he wasn't going to lock the door, wasn't going to stop you if you wanted to leave, and yet, you stayed with him, making a conscious choice of it, not because you were trapped anymore, not because you had nowhere else to go, but because, the man who'd kidnapped you had become the person you felt safest with.
kidnapper!riley who still watches over you whenever you go out though, well old habits rarely die hard.
kidnapper!riley when you wake up from a nightmare, he'll he there holding you in his arms cradling your body until your breathing slows and when you finally sleeps lulls you under, he makes sure to hold you whole night.
kidnapper!riley doesn't sleep at all, instead he feasts.
okay, that means half his waking hours, he's buried between your thighs, his tongue working your cunt with ravenous focus, stubble scraping your inner thighs raw, which is perfect, and when he wakes you at dawn licking through your folds, groaning against your sensitive flesh, drinking you down like you're his only sustenance, you come hard and he licks every drop of it, then he starts again, "can't get enough," he mumbles against your wetness. "too fucking sweet luv, ye ruined my apeptie for anything else."
and swear to god that makes you fall even harder for him, when he's not eating you out, he's fucking you into delirium, night into day and day into night again, against the wall at midnight, slow and deep at noon, your legs wrapped around his waist while he drives up into you with punishing strokes. "Takin' me so well," he breathes, hips rolling. "your cunt was made to belong to me, luvie."
and he makes you cum thrice in a row and he doesn't stop when you pass out, he just slows his pace, and, keeps you full of him until you wake trembling beneath him, then he fucks you through your tears, "please, riley, too much," and even as you said it you were sure you didnt want him to stop and as if he knew your thoughts he only thrusts harder into your hole. "yes, ye can," he grits out. "gunna fuck ye until you forget yer name, until mine's the only word you know."
by the time he's through with you, you're boneless.
and it has been like this for months, and for you, night and day don't exist, its only riley, only his mouth, his cock, his voice, and only the endless, delicious torture of being his.
kidnapper!riley who never calls himself your savior, after all he has no right to do so, in fact, he'll remind you that he kidnapped you in the first place and you had smile that you were grateful he did and one evening, when you quietly tell him, “thank you for getting me out,” he looks away for a long moment before murmuring, “didn't do it for thanks, luv, just knew here is the only place ye should be.”
kidnapper!riley who was now your boyfriend, and honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way, after all he cared for you like you were his trophy wife, spoiling you, fussing over you, and making sure you were always safe, sure, it was a little—okay, very much—fucked up, but you were happy that it happened like this, and you could not be happier that you were here, you were safe, and now you were tucked into his arms, knowing you'd spend the rest of your lives together.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
Pairings : re4!leon x fem!reader
Summary : if you knew Leon would actually confess after the rodeo of your 'date', you would have done this fucking sooner, because it would have saved both of you a lotta time.
genre / CW : brother's best friend, slow burn, angst, emotional, banter, enemies to lover? , cold!leon?, witty!reader, slight ooc leon, fluff, smut, oral (f) recieving, virginity!reader, pinv
NOTE : okay so i am kinda sad; since this is the final part of the series! But I am finally done--phew!
AND TYSM FOR STAYING ON THIS JOURNEY WITH ME ILYSM! <33
the next thing you knew, after the kiss was the sensation of being lifted.
Leon’s strong hands gripping your thighs as he hoisted your legs over his broad shoulders, and swiftly the world tilted on its axis.
then suddenly before you could even catch your breath, you were completely exposed to the room, your legs spread open, your nipples completely peaked, and god your pussy…
was leaking juices and just mere inches from his hungry mouth.
suddenly, jittery nerves starts to coil tight in your chest, because fuck you had never done this before, and you had been completely celibate your whole life, your only experience is the touch of your fingers on your cunt and now here you were, laid bare before him, more exposed than you'd ever thought possible, and the realization hit you in a dizzying wave.
then Leon shifted against you, his warm breath ghosting over your soaking folds, and you cried out his name feeling the goosebumps rise all over your body, and slowly you felt your wetness dripping down freely, and trickling down from your hole to down your thighs. breathlessly, he paused there, drinking in the sight of your pulsing hole, and a low, guttural groan rumbled from his chest as he inhaled your scent.
for a second, you couldn't think at all, your mind going blissfully blank as anticipation coiled tight in your belly, and you just stared at him gazing at your pussy like it was the only meal he ever wanted.
and finally, Leon spoke, his voice rough and thick with desire, “dove," he groaned, the nickname falling from his lips like a prayer, "you are so wet for me, and fuck I haven't even touched you properly yet." and finally he nuzzled his nose into your folds inhaling your scent again, making you squirm beneath him.
“Leon," you crooned softly, suddenly feeling self-conscious about his mouth being drowned in your cunt, "I haven't even washed—I should—" and you tried to push him off, embarrassment threading through your voice, but he didn't let you move an inch instead he held you in your place like you weigh nothing.
"honestly dove," he panted, his breath hot against your oversensitive flesh, then he looked up to you through his lashes and god his eyes were dark and burning with something primal making your stomach do a back-flip, "I don't care, I bet you taste fucking perfect."
then he chuckled a dark, wicked sound that sent shivers racing up your spine, and before you could respond to him, he gave your wet pussy a chaste kiss which made you gasp and finally he buried his tongue between your folds.
and the heat of him felt perfect against your own, and finally with a loud groan he lapped his tongue deeper between your folds, right inside your hole, and the wet drag of his tongue from the bottom of your hole to your clit made you suck in a sharp, desperate breath, and your back arches off the bed as your fingers tangled in the sheets beneath you, trying to get more of the friction from his mouth, "shit—ah, Leon, I think… fuck," you stammered, unable to form a coherent thought, and your thighs starts to convulse sooner than you expected.
god, it was embarrassing, but hell, you could not stop the pleasure building in your stomach, because he was just too good at it.
he hummed against your folds, the vibration resonating through your most sensitive flesh. "dove," he murmured, his voice was muffled, "you taste like honey."
and the sound of his words sent sparks racing down your spine, and whatever you had meant to say dissolved into nothing as he worked your cunt with devastating precision, he licked and sucked at your most sensitive spots with practiced thoroughness, as if he had done it with you hundreds of time, and his tongue kept lapping steadily at your clit until you cried out his name, completely overwhelmed.
"dove, shh," he soothed against your trembling flesh, his breath hot and steadying you in the moment. "Let me make you feel good."
then he took the swollen bud into his mouth, sucking it deep between his lips, and you start to make lewd moans your body shaking with pleasure, seeing your reaction, he hollows his cheeks and then he pressed the bud firmly between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, and he kept sucking it, breathing hard through his nose, and groaning your name so loudly between his assault, as if he were savoring an exquisite meal, and you cried out, "feel s' good, ah, leon just dont stop."
and he hummed again, and god the sounds he made—desperate and ravenous—vibrated through your fluttering walls, pushing you higher towards your orgasm.
soon, before you knew what was happening, you were crying out, "Leon, I'm gonna cum!"—far sooner than you could have imagined.
Leon groaned in response, doubling his efforts, and sucking the bud even harder in his mouth, his tongue flicking relentlessly as he encouraged you with muffled, hungry sounds. "Do it," he seemed to say, the words falling like honey against your core. "c'mon, dove give it to me.”
and you do you come undone against his tongue with a wail, your walls clamping down, fluttering and clenching around his tongue as pleasure crashes through you in violent waves, and he grunted against your trembling flesh, the sound primal and pleased. "so soon, baby," he rasped in a rough voice, though he did not stop, he kept mumbling against you, "you taste so fucking good." and your thighs kept trembling around his head, your whole body shaking as the aftershocks rippled through you, consuming you whole, and he let you ride it until your trembling finally subsided.
then as he felt you were finally done, he rose up over you, and your legs slipped from his shoulders, falling completely limp at your sides, trembling and useless as he settled back his weight between your thighs, his body a tower of strength and warmth, that blocked out everything else, and when he looked at you, with love and adoration, he was taking in sharp breaths as if grounding himself, his chest heaving, sweat gleaming on his brow and slowly trickling down his temple and his mouth still glistening from your wetness, but he didnt wipe it off, for a second you just stared back at him and god he looked magnificent like that, drenched in sweat and your arousal, and it made your hole clench even harder around nothing.
then you gasped again, your heart hammering against your ribs as you watched him free himself from his trousers, and god his cock sprang free, heavy, veiny and impossibly hard then he curled his finger around it and palmed his length in his fist, and your breath caught at the sheer sight of him.
because fuck he was thick and long, little curved at the edge and god the broad head of his cock, flushed with dark purple color and his tip already beading with precum, and then keeping his eyes on you, he gave himself a slow, deliberate stroke making a loud grunt, that made your stomach flip. “dove, you okay?” he asked softly, his cock throbbing in his palm.
you try to form a yes but you fail, so you just nod, but even as you do you didn't know if you actually were and he finally lined himself up at your entrance then, the heated weight of him nudging against your slick folds, spreading his precum between your folds and your wetness, and you felt a flutter of panic mixed with desperate need tighten your chest, because yeah, now that you were faced with it, you didn't know how the hell you were going to take that monster inside you. "dove, you look pale, are you okay?" he asked again worry tightening his expression.
and you knew you were, because, you'd felt the need to do it with him, but now the reality of his size made your nerves spark with uncertainty. "I've never—" you blurted out, your voice trembling like a dry leaf in wind, and you feel your throat get dry, admitting the truth that had been hanging unspoken between you. "I've never done this before, Leon."
he froze for a second, his cock throbbing relentlessly against your entrance, and you felt him go completely still. "really?"
you nodded, chewing your bottom lip, then you close your eyes taking in a sharp breath, as if admitting was as painful as getting checked at gynecologist, "I just... I'm scared. What if it hurts? I just don't know if it will feel good, and you're so fucking big. How is it even gonna—"
you stopped suddenly, opening your eyes and you see he was looking at you with something like pure adoration burning in his eyes, his gaze soft and fierce all at once, "you're perfect," he breathed, "so beautiful, so brave. I'll take care of you, dove, I promise, but listen if you don't want to do this, we won't, we can stop right now."
you shook your head, feeling anticipation coil tight and hot in your chest, overriding the fear. "No, I want to. I want all of you. God, I've waited for years for this. I want you. Please, make me yours."
His jaw tightened, something primal flickering across his face. "you were always mine," he murmured, "even if I never said it out loud, dove."
finally he leaned down and without waiting for your response, he kissed you, deep and consuming, and you taste your arousal on him, and he swallows your gasps and nervous whimpers as he finally pushed himself inside your hole agonizingly slowly.
and fuck you felt every inch of him stretching your walls, filling you whole, and your hole (pun intended), and god the sensation of it was burning so bright, inside you that it bordered on too much, and your hands rose up and grasped his shoulder for support and soon your nails dug into them, your back arching off the bed as he sank deeper into you, until he was fully seated inside you, his hips flush against yours, and you felt so full that you could barely breathe.
"dove you feeling fine?" he whispered against your lips, his whole body trembling with anticipation, sweat beading on his forehead from the effort to hold still, and your feel his cock throb in your pussy and you finally nodded, feeling your hushed tears pricking your eyes, not from pain, but from the overwhelming intimacy of being filled, from the way he looked at you like you were the only thing in his world. "yeah," you gasped, "yeah, I'm okay, now, please I want more."
finally he made a satisfied low guttural sound, and began to thrust inside you with focused precision, at first he went shallow, careful not to hurt you, and as he moved slowly inside you, he lets you adjust to his girth, and god the drag of him sent delicious sparks up your spine, as he moved, you feel his cock throb inside your walls, and they slowly wrap around him, your walls rubbing with every thrust he made, and you cried out his name, then he sank deeper rolling his hips, in a perfect rhythm, sinking deeper into you, and his pelvis grinds against your clit with every stroke, the wet sound of your bodies meeting filling the room. "leon," moaned lewdly, the words tumbling out before you could stop them, "I love you. I loved you so much when I was fifteen—I did. And now too, No one else ever—fuck—"
he stilled inside you for a second, hearing for your confession, his eyes going wide and dark, searching your face. "I know, dove," he breathed, and he sounded wrecked as if he was dying to hear your confession. "God, I know I love you too, my beautiful dove."
then he starts to move again and you arched your back, urging him on to go faster, needing him to move, to fill the emptiness that your hole craved, and he snapped his hips, thrusting into you slowly, as if savoring every inch, every moment of finally having you, suddenly you feel the pleasure built fast inside your belly and core—too fast—your body still sensitive and wound tight from before, and you moan "faster, faster", and he increases his pace, and soon you were crying out aloud, nails raking down his back, your inner walls finally clamping down, fluttering and clenching around his cock as you cum on him without warning, "Leon—fuck—"
“christ, you are gonna break my cock like this dove” he groaned your name, his rhythm faltering as you feel the vein on his cock throb against you, and you knew he was losing control too, you feel he was almost there too, with a few more desperate, grinding thrusts, and a loud grunt, “i am — dove, ah, fuck” then he followed you over the edge too, his cock throbbing and he goes still his legs locking as he spurts his seed deep inside your womb, with a ragged, broken groan, and he breathe out a chuckle, “this was–” he could not complete his sentence instead his forehead dropped to yours, and he smiled against you, “i love you, dove, god i love you, i love you so damn much.” he repeated it like it was the only truth he had known, and you had be lying if you said you didn't like it.
though even as he was done he didn't soften, and you feel his cum drip down your thigh, though he was still hard and pulsing inside you, and he pulled back just a little to look at you, and as soon as he does, he saw a complete fucked out reaction and a wicked, satisfied grin played at his swollen lips. “Are you tired?”
“Nggh a little.”
"We'll work on your stamina, dove," he teased, but he doesnt make any moves to fuck you again instead he collapses over you, making you lose all your breath , and sneakily his thumb moves between your bodies, soon he finds your swollen, oversensitive clit, circling lazily over it and you jump out of your skin, and you arch into him, because maybe you did want more.
"I love you Leon," you mewled against his shoulder, the words falling freely now that the dam had broken, and something in his expression softened and he pulled you even closer, crushing you against his sweat-slicked chest, and he kept playing with your clit until you were sobbing his name like a curse, coming apart once more in his arms, and as you came with loud shriek he teases it one more time, making you murmur, “i cant, not anymore" and he smiles, “mhm, okay,”, and you feel your body wrung out and completely his.
afterwards, you both collapsed like you have just dived underwater, into the tangled mess of sheets, your limbs intertwined with each other, and sticky with sweat, your head resting on his chest as his heartbeat slowed beneath your ear, and you drifted off to sleep like that, safe, filled, content, and his arms wrapped tight around you, inhaling your scent, and his last thought before following you into the dark was simple and absolute: I am finally home.
2 months later
God, after that evening, it had now been two months since you and Leon had officially started dating, and somehow, he was still managing to surprise you.
and every day, after that, you had sex, went on dates, and spent whatever time you could steal just being together, whether it was a whole evening, a few stolen hours, or simply lying beside each other at home, you made whatever time you had belong to the two of you.
honestly, he was everything you'd imagined during all those years of circling around each other, he was patient in all the ways that mattered, present in ways that somehow made up for the time you'd wasted, the opportunities you'd missed, and all the almosts that had come before, he remembered the little things, and he always showed up.
not to mention he was always touchy, (you loved it obviously) and, he'd always find some excuse to have his hands on you: a palm resting on your lower back as you moved through doorways, his fingers tangling with yours during movie nights, his thumb tracing lazy patterns over your wrist whenever you were supposed to be paying attention to something else.
and right now, though, you weren't paying attention to anything, except him.
because currently you were making out, on the couch that had somehow become your personal territory over the past two months, and now you were sitting on Leon's lap, your legs comfortably straddling his thighs, his hand warm against your hip, and God, he was kissing you, no, more like devouring you. and it was the kind of kiss that made you forget what time it was, where you were, or that you had anything else in the world to worry about.
or that your brother was flying in tomorrow.
"Leon," you breathed against his mouth, and you pulled back just enough to speak.
"mhm?" but he didn't stop, instead his lips trailed lower, finding your jaw, your throat, that spot just below your ear that made you shiver.
"Luca's coming tomorrow." you reminded him, though a moan escaped your throat a little too fast.
"I know." he crooned, and pulled your lips back on his. "I remember."
you pushed at his chest, but not hard enough to actually move him, and a breathy giggle left your throat, "you know we need to tell him, about us."
"uh-huh, we will." he grunted against your mouth, then his hand slid up your chest, and soon his thumb brushed your nipples over your t-shirt, in a way that was definitely not helping your concentration, and you moaned, "when he's home, and when he's settled we will." he says smiling against your lips.
you finally cradled his face in your hands, gently pulling his lips away from yours, and he immediately pouted, looking at you with those big blue eyes, his expression so ridiculously offended that you couldn't help but laugh.
"listen, so what exactly am I going to say to him?" you arched an eyebrow, trying to look stern despite the way your heart was hammering. "'Hey Luca, by the way, I'm dating your best friend'?"
Leon grinned and, without warning, leaned forward to lick your palm, making you jump back with a startled, “Hey!” You immediately, glared at him, but he only stuck his tongue out at you, looking far too pleased with himself, then he leaned a little, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips against your neck, making you gasp his name softly, and that infuriating, beautiful grin tugged at his mouth, the same grin that had somehow gotten him out of trouble more times than you could count.
you tried to hold onto your annoyance, but the warmth of his lips made it impossible and he pulled back just enough to look at you, with those bright blue eyes practically sparkling with mischief. “I was thinking something more like...” he muses, dragging out the pause as his smirk widened. “‘surprise.’”
"You uh are useless." you whispered.
“You wound me, Dove, but right now let me focus on you, please,” he crooned softly against your skin, his voice warm, as always, and you gave in to the temptation of letting yourself melt into him, your arms slipping around his neck, as you smiled despite yourself.
...
the next afternoon, you, Luca, and Leon walked through the front door, Luca carrying his duffel bag with that same easy energy he'd always had.
then as you entered the apartment he dropped it by the door before moving inside and practically collapsing onto the couch, throwing his head back against it with a tired sigh.
You and Leon exchanged a few quick glances over him, neither of you quite brave enough to say anything first.
Luca noticed, of course, and his eyes moved between the two of you, narrowing slightly as if he could already tell something was going on, whether it was something wrong—or maybe something very right—he couldn't quite figure out, finally, he straightened up his posture sitting upright and looked between you both. “Out with it. Both of you.”
and your heartbeat quickens and you glanced at Leon, then down at your hands before reaching for his, your fingers slipped between his, intertwining with his naturally.
Leon looked down at your joined hands, then back at Luca, letting out a quiet sigh. His expression was unreadable for a moment before he finally said, “We're dating, Luca.” then he paused, his thumb brushing slowly over your knuckles. “I love her.”
for a second there was a silence and luca finally stood up, walking towards you and leon "So," Luca said slowly, repeating Leons word "You two are dating."
and you felt Leon tense beside you, just slightly, a little flinch, as if he was scared of losing his best-friend as well as you, “Yeah,” he said, already bracing yourself for the explosion—
the accusations, the how could you, all the things you'd imagined Luca might say.
“Leon.” Luca's said deadpanned his voice was flat, and unreadable.
and you squeezed Leon's hand, panic beginning to rise in your chest, because no matter what luca was always so, protective of you in that older-brother way, and you didnt want him to hurt Leon.
"Luca." leon said.
your nerves were exploding like little firecrackers in your head because you'd imagined this moment a hundred times, played out every possible reaction in your head, but never—not once—had you imagined your brother looking at Leon like that.
Leon gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go and walking toward him, as he stopped in front of Luca, his expression remained carefully neutral, shoulders squared as though he was bracing himself for impact.
Luca stepped forward, and for one horrible second, and you genuinely thought he was going to punch him, instead, he pulled Leon into a hug so tight that Leon actually froze.
you watched in stunned silence as Leon slowly lifted his arms, seemingly unsure what to do, before finally returning the embrace.
"Welcome to the family, Leon," Luca said, muffled against his shoulder, then, he pulled back and gripped Leon's shoulder tightly, then he added, "you hurt her, I bury you in the desert. But welcome."
and Leon smiled, pulling Luca back in for another hug, and Luca hugged him just as tightly, whispering something in his ear.
Leon only nodded in response, his head dipping slightly as he listened, and god you had no idea what Luca had said, and honestly, you didn't want to know, whatever it was, you figured it was between the two of them, and for now, you were just relieved he hadn't punched Leon—or worse.
You stared at the two of them in disbelief, stepping in front of them with your mouth hanging open. “You're not angry at us?!” You looked from Luca to Leon, still waiting for the catch, because surely this couldn't be it.
Luca finally turned to you, rolling his eyes in that way he had since you were kids. "No, I am not a monster, plus I know, Leon loves you, I see it in his eyes." he said softly which made your pulse jump, and then slowly he wrapped his arms around you, then reaching out to pull Leon in too until the three of you were some strange, tangled knot of limbs in the middle of the living room.
“I knew you two loved each other since you were kids. I was just waiting for you both to catch up,” Luca said with a laugh. “Call it a brother's intuition and I didn't want to meddle in whatever the hell you two had going on, but I sure as hell didn't think it would take you eight whole years!” he shook his head, laughing again as you stared at him in disbelief.
"That's crazy!" you scoffed and pulled back from the embrace to look at him.
“That's effective,” Luca corrected, grinning as he ruffled your hair, quickly dodging your swat when you tried to smack his hand away, then he grabbed his bag and tossed it over his shoulder before looking between you and Leon, his grin widening. “but now, I'm tired, though still after I shower, I want to hear everything.” He pointed at the two of you. “starting with who asked who, and I want details.”
Leon caught your hand, threading his fingers through yours, and you felt that familiar warmth spread through your chest. “Well…” you began, leaning into Leon's side, your cheeks already starting to burn. “We'd prefer not to go into details.” you glanced at Leon, who was already wearing that annoyingly smug smile. “But,” you added, trying to hide your embarrassment, “I can tell you how it happened.”
"fine by me," Luca sighed shrugging his shoulder casually as he headed towards his bedroom, leaving you and Leon standing alone the living room.
leon gently squeezed your hand again and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, and you couldn't help but smile, leaning into him as Luca's words settled somewhere deep in your chest, because maybe he was right.
and after all those years, all the longing, all the almosts and missed chances, you had finally caught up to each other — making you realize that it had always been, two hearts, one soul.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
Pairings : re4!leon x fem!reader
Summary : if you knew Leon would actually confess after the rodeo of your 'date', you would have done this fucking sooner, because it would have saved both of you a lotta time.
genre / CW : brother's best friend, slow burn, angst, emotional, banter, enemies to lover? , cold!leon?, witty!reader, slight ooc leon, fluff, smut, oral (f) recieving, virginity!reader, pinv
NOTE : okay so i am kinda sad; since this is the final part of the series! But I am finally done--phew!
AND TYSM FOR STAYING ON THIS JOURNEY WITH ME ILYSM! <33
the next thing you knew, after the kiss was the sensation of being lifted.
Leon’s strong hands gripping your thighs as he hoisted your legs over his broad shoulders, and swiftly the world tilted on its axis.
then suddenly before you could even catch your breath, you were completely exposed to the room, your legs spread open, your nipples completely peaked, and god your pussy…
was leaking juices and just mere inches from his hungry mouth.
suddenly, jittery nerves starts to coil tight in your chest, because fuck you had never done this before, and you had been completely celibate your whole life, your only experience is the touch of your fingers on your cunt and now here you were, laid bare before him, more exposed than you'd ever thought possible, and the realization hit you in a dizzying wave.
then Leon shifted against you, his warm breath ghosting over your soaking folds, and you cried out his name feeling the goosebumps rise all over your body, and slowly you felt your wetness dripping down freely, and trickling down from your hole to down your thighs. breathlessly, he paused there, drinking in the sight of your pulsing hole, and a low, guttural groan rumbled from his chest as he inhaled your scent.
for a second, you couldn't think at all, your mind going blissfully blank as anticipation coiled tight in your belly, and you just stared at him gazing at your pussy like it was the only meal he ever wanted.
and finally, Leon spoke, his voice rough and thick with desire, “dove," he groaned, the nickname falling from his lips like a prayer, "you are so wet for me, and fuck I haven't even touched you properly yet." and finally he nuzzled his nose into your folds inhaling your scent again, making you squirm beneath him.
“Leon," you crooned softly, suddenly feeling self-conscious about his mouth being drowned in your cunt, "I haven't even washed—I should—" and you tried to push him off, embarrassment threading through your voice, but he didn't let you move an inch instead he held you in your place like you weigh nothing.
"honestly dove," he panted, his breath hot against your oversensitive flesh, then he looked up to you through his lashes and god his eyes were dark and burning with something primal making your stomach do a back-flip, "I don't care, I bet you taste fucking perfect."
then he chuckled a dark, wicked sound that sent shivers racing up your spine, and before you could respond to him, he gave your wet pussy a chaste kiss which made you gasp and finally he buried his tongue between your folds.
and the heat of him felt perfect against your own, and finally with a loud groan he lapped his tongue deeper between your folds, right inside your hole, and the wet drag of his tongue from the bottom of your hole to your clit made you suck in a sharp, desperate breath, and your back arches off the bed as your fingers tangled in the sheets beneath you, trying to get more of the friction from his mouth, "shit—ah, Leon, I think… fuck," you stammered, unable to form a coherent thought, and your thighs starts to convulse sooner than you expected.
god, it was embarrassing, but hell, you could not stop the pleasure building in your stomach, because he was just too good at it.
he hummed against your folds, the vibration resonating through your most sensitive flesh. "dove," he murmured, his voice was muffled, "you taste like honey."
and the sound of his words sent sparks racing down your spine, and whatever you had meant to say dissolved into nothing as he worked your cunt with devastating precision, he licked and sucked at your most sensitive spots with practiced thoroughness, as if he had done it with you hundreds of time, and his tongue kept lapping steadily at your clit until you cried out his name, completely overwhelmed.
"dove, shh," he soothed against your trembling flesh, his breath hot and steadying you in the moment. "Let me make you feel good."
then he took the swollen bud into his mouth, sucking it deep between his lips, and you start to make lewd moans your body shaking with pleasure, seeing your reaction, he hollows his cheeks and then he pressed the bud firmly between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, and he kept sucking it, breathing hard through his nose, and groaning your name so loudly between his assault, as if he were savoring an exquisite meal, and you cried out, "feel s' good, ah, leon just dont stop."
and he hummed again, and god the sounds he made—desperate and ravenous—vibrated through your fluttering walls, pushing you higher towards your orgasm.
soon, before you knew what was happening, you were crying out, "Leon, I'm gonna cum!"—far sooner than you could have imagined.
Leon groaned in response, doubling his efforts, and sucking the bud even harder in his mouth, his tongue flicking relentlessly as he encouraged you with muffled, hungry sounds. "Do it," he seemed to say, the words falling like honey against your core. "c'mon, dove give it to me.”
and you do you come undone against his tongue with a wail, your walls clamping down, fluttering and clenching around his tongue as pleasure crashes through you in violent waves, and he grunted against your trembling flesh, the sound primal and pleased. "so soon, baby," he rasped in a rough voice, though he did not stop, he kept mumbling against you, "you taste so fucking good." and your thighs kept trembling around his head, your whole body shaking as the aftershocks rippled through you, consuming you whole, and he let you ride it until your trembling finally subsided.
then as he felt you were finally done, he rose up over you, and your legs slipped from his shoulders, falling completely limp at your sides, trembling and useless as he settled back his weight between your thighs, his body a tower of strength and warmth, that blocked out everything else, and when he looked at you, with love and adoration, he was taking in sharp breaths as if grounding himself, his chest heaving, sweat gleaming on his brow and slowly trickling down his temple and his mouth still glistening from your wetness, but he didnt wipe it off, for a second you just stared back at him and god he looked magnificent like that, drenched in sweat and your arousal, and it made your hole clench even harder around nothing.
then you gasped again, your heart hammering against your ribs as you watched him free himself from his trousers, and god his cock sprang free, heavy, veiny and impossibly hard then he curled his finger around it and palmed his length in his fist, and your breath caught at the sheer sight of him.
because fuck he was thick and long, little curved at the edge and god the broad head of his cock, flushed with dark purple color and his tip already beading with precum, and then keeping his eyes on you, he gave himself a slow, deliberate stroke making a loud grunt, that made your stomach flip. “dove, you okay?” he asked softly, his cock throbbing in his palm.
you try to form a yes but you fail, so you just nod, but even as you do you didn't know if you actually were and he finally lined himself up at your entrance then, the heated weight of him nudging against your slick folds, spreading his precum between your folds and your wetness, and you felt a flutter of panic mixed with desperate need tighten your chest, because yeah, now that you were faced with it, you didn't know how the hell you were going to take that monster inside you. "dove, you look pale, are you okay?" he asked again worry tightening his expression.
and you knew you were, because, you'd felt the need to do it with him, but now the reality of his size made your nerves spark with uncertainty. "I've never—" you blurted out, your voice trembling like a dry leaf in wind, and you feel your throat get dry, admitting the truth that had been hanging unspoken between you. "I've never done this before, Leon."
he froze for a second, his cock throbbing relentlessly against your entrance, and you felt him go completely still. "really?"
you nodded, chewing your bottom lip, then you close your eyes taking in a sharp breath, as if admitting was as painful as getting checked at gynecologist, "I just... I'm scared. What if it hurts? I just don't know if it will feel good, and you're so fucking big. How is it even gonna—"
you stopped suddenly, opening your eyes and you see he was looking at you with something like pure adoration burning in his eyes, his gaze soft and fierce all at once, "you're perfect," he breathed, "so beautiful, so brave. I'll take care of you, dove, I promise, but listen if you don't want to do this, we won't, we can stop right now."
you shook your head, feeling anticipation coil tight and hot in your chest, overriding the fear. "No, I want to. I want all of you. God, I've waited for years for this. I want you. Please, make me yours."
His jaw tightened, something primal flickering across his face. "you were always mine," he murmured, "even if I never said it out loud, dove."
finally he leaned down and without waiting for your response, he kissed you, deep and consuming, and you taste your arousal on him, and he swallows your gasps and nervous whimpers as he finally pushed himself inside your hole agonizingly slowly.
and fuck you felt every inch of him stretching your walls, filling you whole, and your hole (pun intended), and god the sensation of it was burning so bright, inside you that it bordered on too much, and your hands rose up and grasped his shoulder for support and soon your nails dug into them, your back arching off the bed as he sank deeper into you, until he was fully seated inside you, his hips flush against yours, and you felt so full that you could barely breathe.
"dove you feeling fine?" he whispered against your lips, his whole body trembling with anticipation, sweat beading on his forehead from the effort to hold still, and your feel his cock throb in your pussy and you finally nodded, feeling your hushed tears pricking your eyes, not from pain, but from the overwhelming intimacy of being filled, from the way he looked at you like you were the only thing in his world. "yeah," you gasped, "yeah, I'm okay, now, please I want more."
finally he made a satisfied low guttural sound, and began to thrust inside you with focused precision, at first he went shallow, careful not to hurt you, and as he moved slowly inside you, he lets you adjust to his girth, and god the drag of him sent delicious sparks up your spine, as he moved, you feel his cock throb inside your walls, and they slowly wrap around him, your walls rubbing with every thrust he made, and you cried out his name, then he sank deeper rolling his hips, in a perfect rhythm, sinking deeper into you, and his pelvis grinds against your clit with every stroke, the wet sound of your bodies meeting filling the room. "leon," moaned lewdly, the words tumbling out before you could stop them, "I love you. I loved you so much when I was fifteen—I did. And now too, No one else ever—fuck—"
he stilled inside you for a second, hearing for your confession, his eyes going wide and dark, searching your face. "I know, dove," he breathed, and he sounded wrecked as if he was dying to hear your confession. "God, I know I love you too, my beautiful dove."
then he starts to move again and you arched your back, urging him on to go faster, needing him to move, to fill the emptiness that your hole craved, and he snapped his hips, thrusting into you slowly, as if savoring every inch, every moment of finally having you, suddenly you feel the pleasure built fast inside your belly and core—too fast—your body still sensitive and wound tight from before, and you moan "faster, faster", and he increases his pace, and soon you were crying out aloud, nails raking down his back, your inner walls finally clamping down, fluttering and clenching around his cock as you cum on him without warning, "Leon—fuck—"
“christ, you are gonna break my cock like this dove” he groaned your name, his rhythm faltering as you feel the vein on his cock throb against you, and you knew he was losing control too, you feel he was almost there too, with a few more desperate, grinding thrusts, and a loud grunt, “i am — dove, ah, fuck” then he followed you over the edge too, his cock throbbing and he goes still his legs locking as he spurts his seed deep inside your womb, with a ragged, broken groan, and he breathe out a chuckle, “this was–” he could not complete his sentence instead his forehead dropped to yours, and he smiled against you, “i love you, dove, god i love you, i love you so damn much.” he repeated it like it was the only truth he had known, and you had be lying if you said you didn't like it.
though even as he was done he didn't soften, and you feel his cum drip down your thigh, though he was still hard and pulsing inside you, and he pulled back just a little to look at you, and as soon as he does, he saw a complete fucked out reaction and a wicked, satisfied grin played at his swollen lips. “Are you tired?”
“Nggh a little.”
"We'll work on your stamina, dove," he teased, but he doesnt make any moves to fuck you again instead he collapses over you, making you lose all your breath , and sneakily his thumb moves between your bodies, soon he finds your swollen, oversensitive clit, circling lazily over it and you jump out of your skin, and you arch into him, because maybe you did want more.
"I love you Leon," you mewled against his shoulder, the words falling freely now that the dam had broken, and something in his expression softened and he pulled you even closer, crushing you against his sweat-slicked chest, and he kept playing with your clit until you were sobbing his name like a curse, coming apart once more in his arms, and as you came with loud shriek he teases it one more time, making you murmur, “i cant, not anymore" and he smiles, “mhm, okay,”, and you feel your body wrung out and completely his.
afterwards, you both collapsed like you have just dived underwater, into the tangled mess of sheets, your limbs intertwined with each other, and sticky with sweat, your head resting on his chest as his heartbeat slowed beneath your ear, and you drifted off to sleep like that, safe, filled, content, and his arms wrapped tight around you, inhaling your scent, and his last thought before following you into the dark was simple and absolute: I am finally home.
2 months later
God, after that evening, it had now been two months since you and Leon had officially started dating, and somehow, he was still managing to surprise you.
and every day, after that, you had sex, went on dates, and spent whatever time you could steal just being together, whether it was a whole evening, a few stolen hours, or simply lying beside each other at home, you made whatever time you had belong to the two of you.
honestly, he was everything you'd imagined during all those years of circling around each other, he was patient in all the ways that mattered, present in ways that somehow made up for the time you'd wasted, the opportunities you'd missed, and all the almosts that had come before, he remembered the little things, and he always showed up.
not to mention he was always touchy, (you loved it obviously) and, he'd always find some excuse to have his hands on you: a palm resting on your lower back as you moved through doorways, his fingers tangling with yours during movie nights, his thumb tracing lazy patterns over your wrist whenever you were supposed to be paying attention to something else.
and right now, though, you weren't paying attention to anything, except him.
because currently you were making out, on the couch that had somehow become your personal territory over the past two months, and now you were sitting on Leon's lap, your legs comfortably straddling his thighs, his hand warm against your hip, and God, he was kissing you, no, more like devouring you. and it was the kind of kiss that made you forget what time it was, where you were, or that you had anything else in the world to worry about.
or that your brother was flying in tomorrow.
"Leon," you breathed against his mouth, and you pulled back just enough to speak.
"mhm?" but he didn't stop, instead his lips trailed lower, finding your jaw, your throat, that spot just below your ear that made you shiver.
"Luca's coming tomorrow." you reminded him, though a moan escaped your throat a little too fast.
"I know." he crooned, and pulled your lips back on his. "I remember."
you pushed at his chest, but not hard enough to actually move him, and a breathy giggle left your throat, "you know we need to tell him, about us."
"uh-huh, we will." he grunted against your mouth, then his hand slid up your chest, and soon his thumb brushed your nipples over your t-shirt, in a way that was definitely not helping your concentration, and you moaned, "when he's home, and when he's settled we will." he says smiling against your lips.
you finally cradled his face in your hands, gently pulling his lips away from yours, and he immediately pouted, looking at you with those big blue eyes, his expression so ridiculously offended that you couldn't help but laugh.
"listen, so what exactly am I going to say to him?" you arched an eyebrow, trying to look stern despite the way your heart was hammering. "'Hey Luca, by the way, I'm dating your best friend'?"
Leon grinned and, without warning, leaned forward to lick your palm, making you jump back with a startled, “Hey!” You immediately, glared at him, but he only stuck his tongue out at you, looking far too pleased with himself, then he leaned a little, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips against your neck, making you gasp his name softly, and that infuriating, beautiful grin tugged at his mouth, the same grin that had somehow gotten him out of trouble more times than you could count.
you tried to hold onto your annoyance, but the warmth of his lips made it impossible and he pulled back just enough to look at you, with those bright blue eyes practically sparkling with mischief. “I was thinking something more like...” he muses, dragging out the pause as his smirk widened. “‘surprise.’”
"You uh are useless." you whispered.
“You wound me, Dove, but right now let me focus on you, please,” he crooned softly against your skin, his voice warm, as always, and you gave in to the temptation of letting yourself melt into him, your arms slipping around his neck, as you smiled despite yourself.
...
the next afternoon, you, Luca, and Leon walked through the front door, Luca carrying his duffel bag with that same easy energy he'd always had.
then as you entered the apartment he dropped it by the door before moving inside and practically collapsing onto the couch, throwing his head back against it with a tired sigh.
You and Leon exchanged a few quick glances over him, neither of you quite brave enough to say anything first.
Luca noticed, of course, and his eyes moved between the two of you, narrowing slightly as if he could already tell something was going on, whether it was something wrong—or maybe something very right—he couldn't quite figure out, finally, he straightened up his posture sitting upright and looked between you both. “Out with it. Both of you.”
and your heartbeat quickens and you glanced at Leon, then down at your hands before reaching for his, your fingers slipped between his, intertwining with his naturally.
Leon looked down at your joined hands, then back at Luca, letting out a quiet sigh. His expression was unreadable for a moment before he finally said, “We're dating, Luca.” then he paused, his thumb brushing slowly over your knuckles. “I love her.”
for a second there was a silence and luca finally stood up, walking towards you and leon "So," Luca said slowly, repeating Leons word "You two are dating."
and you felt Leon tense beside you, just slightly, a little flinch, as if he was scared of losing his best-friend as well as you, “Yeah,” he said, already bracing yourself for the explosion—
the accusations, the how could you, all the things you'd imagined Luca might say.
“Leon.” Luca's said deadpanned his voice was flat, and unreadable.
and you squeezed Leon's hand, panic beginning to rise in your chest, because no matter what luca was always so, protective of you in that older-brother way, and you didnt want him to hurt Leon.
"Luca." leon said.
your nerves were exploding like little firecrackers in your head because you'd imagined this moment a hundred times, played out every possible reaction in your head, but never—not once—had you imagined your brother looking at Leon like that.
Leon gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go and walking toward him, as he stopped in front of Luca, his expression remained carefully neutral, shoulders squared as though he was bracing himself for impact.
Luca stepped forward, and for one horrible second, and you genuinely thought he was going to punch him, instead, he pulled Leon into a hug so tight that Leon actually froze.
you watched in stunned silence as Leon slowly lifted his arms, seemingly unsure what to do, before finally returning the embrace.
"Welcome to the family, Leon," Luca said, muffled against his shoulder, then, he pulled back and gripped Leon's shoulder tightly, then he added, "you hurt her, I bury you in the desert. But welcome."
and Leon smiled, pulling Luca back in for another hug, and Luca hugged him just as tightly, whispering something in his ear.
Leon only nodded in response, his head dipping slightly as he listened, and god you had no idea what Luca had said, and honestly, you didn't want to know, whatever it was, you figured it was between the two of them, and for now, you were just relieved he hadn't punched Leon—or worse.
You stared at the two of them in disbelief, stepping in front of them with your mouth hanging open. “You're not angry at us?!” You looked from Luca to Leon, still waiting for the catch, because surely this couldn't be it.
Luca finally turned to you, rolling his eyes in that way he had since you were kids. "No, I am not a monster, plus I know, Leon loves you, I see it in his eyes." he said softly which made your pulse jump, and then slowly he wrapped his arms around you, then reaching out to pull Leon in too until the three of you were some strange, tangled knot of limbs in the middle of the living room.
“I knew you two loved each other since you were kids. I was just waiting for you both to catch up,” Luca said with a laugh. “Call it a brother's intuition and I didn't want to meddle in whatever the hell you two had going on, but I sure as hell didn't think it would take you eight whole years!” he shook his head, laughing again as you stared at him in disbelief.
"That's crazy!" you scoffed and pulled back from the embrace to look at him.
“That's effective,” Luca corrected, grinning as he ruffled your hair, quickly dodging your swat when you tried to smack his hand away, then he grabbed his bag and tossed it over his shoulder before looking between you and Leon, his grin widening. “but now, I'm tired, though still after I shower, I want to hear everything.” He pointed at the two of you. “starting with who asked who, and I want details.”
Leon caught your hand, threading his fingers through yours, and you felt that familiar warmth spread through your chest. “Well…” you began, leaning into Leon's side, your cheeks already starting to burn. “We'd prefer not to go into details.” you glanced at Leon, who was already wearing that annoyingly smug smile. “But,” you added, trying to hide your embarrassment, “I can tell you how it happened.”
"fine by me," Luca sighed shrugging his shoulder casually as he headed towards his bedroom, leaving you and Leon standing alone the living room.
leon gently squeezed your hand again and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, and you couldn't help but smile, leaning into him as Luca's words settled somewhere deep in your chest, because maybe he was right.
and after all those years, all the longing, all the almosts and missed chances, you had finally caught up to each other — making you realize that it had always been, two hearts, one soul.
After a long day at work, there’s nothing I’d like more than to lay down in bed, rest my legs on those broad shoulders and have my insides rearranged by his massive cock.
need a hat that says I WONT SPEAK UNLESS SPOKEN TO AND ITS NOT BECAUSE IM DISINTERESTED AND DONT LIKE YOU I JUST DONT UNDERSTAND SOCIAL INTERACTION AS WELL AS MOST PEOPLE AND ASSUME BY DEFAULT MY PRESENCE IS UNWELCOME AS A PRECAUTIONARY MEASURE SO I KEEP TO MYSELF BUT I DONT MIND IF YOU INITIATE so i can wear it to work
