sum: leon's cleaning his gun in the kitchen, and you can't help but be mesmerized by it and him.
tags/warnings: gun play (no gun in v, unloaded), leon's a tease, dry humping against requiem (and a little on leon's thigh), nipple play, brat taming (?), daddy kink, praise (a little bit), pwp
a/n: [anyone ever wanna fuck something that you physically cant? cause me too.] i zont wanna hear shieettt about this leon being ooc. go complain to someone who cares. anyways i've been writing this for a couple weeks now and finally finished it. i hope my real ones out there find this and enjoy it. mwah, love u freaks <3
wc: 4.4k
Requiem.
Leonās custom revolver. Issued by the DSO.
A hefty thing, if one were to pick the weapon up without the aid of meticulously trained arms and hands. It might slip from anotherās grasp if they werenāt attuned to its magnitude.
Heād designed parts of it himself, scaling every part to size in his sketchbook. The division was more than happy to put in the request.
From bullets specially made down to the millimeter, to the case it came in, the holster, even the grip fashioned with an eagle wing, requiem was the perfect heavy-duty revolver for Leon Kennedy.
Heās sat at the kitchen table, a multitude of cleaning tools and parts scattered about. Steady hands of the aged man work to no end at polishing each part of the gun. By now there is no edge, surface, or curve of the smooth silver surface that has not been shined by Leonās hands. A delicate process, undoing each mechanism perfectly so to be laid out for proper cleaning.
It is something similar to watching a potter craft with clay, observing his silent movements from across the room. Only soft sounds of his breathing are to be heard, that and the occasional clink of requiemās hardened metal parts.
Heās only in a t-shirt and sweats, but heās never looked more domestic, even when the activity heās taken up isnāt anything like the others you do at home. Loving Leon has brought many a strange thing washing up onto your shore.
Many a night without him, weeks away from you at a time, only to come home and crash in your arms were nothing compared to the image of him under a single lamp light, hyper-focused on detailing the weapon in soft clothes. As if he should be doing something moreā¦ homely like laundry or the dishes in an outfit like that. Threads weaved within hems stretch around his biceps and fall loosely by his waist, same for the cotton that rounds his thighs and flutters down his calves by the catching air of an open window. As large as they areāand half covered by sleevesāthey flex every so often, veins bulging along with soft movement.
Though heās wary to leave smudges on the sleek metal, somehow his fingertips leave it void with every swipe of the cloth. Heās intricate with each piece, detailing until thereās no stain left, then carefully placing it back in its place for reassembly.
You havenāt seen him use it, since the policy that came with the sleek weapon only permits its use on those tough-as-nail missions. Though that doesnāt stop Leon from making sure requiem is in pristine shape as if it were fresh off the production line. Requiem is merely one of other firearms he keeps on the premises- since Raccoon City, he can never have too many.
Heās had you learn as well, for your own safety, and for his peace of mind when heās thousands of miles away or on a different continent entirely. Shooting range, strength training at the gym- heās toughened you up for whatever may occur. Youāve learned everything you know about guns from Leon: how to hold it properly, shoot well, keeping your breath steady, the whole nine yards. It was easy when you had a good teacher, and yet you couldnāt stop yourself from watching his biceps flex and the veins bulge when heās practicing.
Leon is painfully beautiful, and itās distracted you on more than one occasion.
Heād said, āPay attention,ā right before, attempting with all your might to do so, but that was proving easier said than done. When heās wearing a regular t-shirt and soft pants and youāre imagining this is how he looks like in the field, up against the most grotesque bioweapons known to man.
Zoning out on how his gloved hands wrap around the gunās grip, only blinking back into consciousness after heād emptied the magazine. It didnāt take a genius, he knew youād been distracted, so when he handed you the gun and asked you to show him what heād just done, you folded in less than a minute.
Leon was always more than happy to help you out, adjusting your grip and getting close behind you to make sure your shoulders were in the right spot. Soft hands relaxed your form while simultaneously setting you on fire.
From then to now, you never grew tired of watching him and his guns.
Leon habitually details requiem after a mission, sat at the kitchen table until itās shining. This time was no different, the last couple hours of evening time used to give the weapon a proper cleaning. Heās so focused in on the task, and yet heās able to pick up the sound of you coming down the stairs.
Youāve stopped right at the edge of the room, watching him for much too long. Those strands of dark hair, his focused eyes, furrowed browsā¦ he looks so prettyā¦ while heās cleaning his most lethal weapon.
Some part of you wishes you worked with him just to see Leon use the gun. It probably has one hell of a kickback for anyone else besides him. The gun looks intimating just by itself, but in use, it goes without question that one shot could kill you instantly.
Not unlike any other gun in the world, but this one was special.
You should be more startled by the thing, knowing Leonās skills with it. Heās told you not to be afraid, and your familiarity with one has definitely made that concern less. Stillā¦ itās deadly. Especially in the hands of the one it had been made for.
A flit of your tongue over your lips as he starts clicking the pieces back into place, then a step closer to watch his hands move methodically.
The floor creaks.
He doesnāt look up, instead speaking into the dimly lit room.
āCome sit by me, you must be tired of standing over there watching.ā
A smile fights its way onto your lips when you step into the room. The moment youāre in the light is when his eyes shoot up from the gun, still clicking pieces back together.
Leonās blues are colored like the daytime sky- soft and pretty, yet they possess such power to fill a single glance with a rush of adrenaline.
One corner of his mouth pulls upwards when you finally let that smile break out around him, taking one of the chairs out to sit down next to him.
āDidnāt wanna disturb you while you were cleaning your gun. You seemed so focused and I didnāt want to break that.ā
His eyebrows lift, light in his eyes twinkling as it catches in their reflection.
āYou could never disturb me, baby.ā
You know this, and still the desire to let him have alone time without you is what makes your relationship work.
āI knowā¦ā you trail off, watching him go back to fitting all the pieces of his revolver together. His hands, rugged as they come, seem to know the weapon inside and out, similarly to how they know you.
Grip in one hand like the weapon weighs nothing, Leon continues to rebuild the gun with each part.
Curiosity strikes, and thereās ideas swimming in your head before you can even think about one thing.
āIs umā¦ is your gun heavy? It looks heavy.ā
āYeah, itās got a good weight to it. But itās not heavy when I hold it.ā
Of course itās not heavy for himā¦ with those arms? It must be a piece of cake.
āRight, on account of it being custom made?ā
āUh huh.ā
A gun that large should be intimidating to even see in person. Even if heās never used it with you around, you should be scared of what it can do. Itās not a surprise most things that should frighten you arenāt as daunting when Leon is present.
Just like how exhilaration fills your lungs when you look at the long barrel of the gun, how its bullets are specially made- how it all is- for his use. Its ridges and width are all you can focus on as Leonās hands move over them, clicking into place with the rest of the pieces. Its look in his hand, like it weighs nothing at allā¦ and on top of all that, how dangerous it must be. Why else would the DSO make him a custom weapon other than to be more efficient at killing things?
āItās pretty.ā
āWhat is?ā
āYour gunā¦ I mean, it suits you. Youā¦ look good with it.ā
Shy he might judge you, you look away and fidget with your hands instead.
āDo I?ā
āMhmā¦ā you mutter under your breath.
āWell, Iād hope so.ā he replies, chuckling a bit.
āYou probably look super hot in the field with it. Too bad I could never see that.ā
āDo you even know how dangerous it is?ā
āItās a gun, of course I do, Leon.ā
āNo,ā he halts his movement, and you can hear when he does, āYou donāt. Not with this one.ā
Your mind is playing back all the weapons training heās given you, instructing how to not be afraid of it when you were starting out.
āWhat?ā
āLook at me.ā
Turning to meet his gaze feels as if it takes ten thousand years at the level of timidness you omit.
āHold out your hands.ā
āWhat?ā you ask again, confused this time.
āJust do it.ā
āBut, you just cleaned it.ā
āI can wipe it down.ā
His voice is stern, so you donāt prod further before holding your hands out. As expected, he places the revolver in your palms, cold metal a stark difference to the warmth your body possesses.
Promptly after, your arms falter a bit with its weight. A type of weapon that would give anyone an arm ache if they werenāt muscled like Leon.
āItās heavier than I thought.ā
āUh huh, more dangerous too.ā
āLeonā¦ā
āIām serious. Itās not a toy. Touch it. Feel how real it is.ā
Upon his command, your fingertips run over the polished titanium barrel, wondering how frequently he uses it on missions. How it probably gets covered in blood with no effort at all. Its warmth after a shot rings out. The gunpowderās smoke trail.
God, itās the perfect weapon for him.
Once again, you should be more frightened.
You should be.
But you arenāt.
Your thumb runs over the indentations along the bottom delicately as if it were an art piece.
āI know itās not a toy, Leonā¦ Iām just not scared. Especially when youāre holding it.ā
He sighs, looking towards you with softer eyes.
āYouāve never seen me in the field with it, so you wouldnāt know.ā
āKnow what?ā
āThe number of things Iāve killed with itā¦ Iāve lost count.ā
The image comes to you instantly of him in one of his jackets, paired with the same navy blue compression tops, pointing the gun at some deformed lab experiment and lining up its head in the crosshairs right before he pulls the trigger. How adrenaline courses through his veins and the strength of his muscles braking any recoil it gives.
āWish I couldāve seen how you looked while doing so.ā you mutter under your breath, placing it back on the table in front of him.
āOh yeah?ā
Leon raises his eyebrows in surprise, picking it up for your viewing pleasure. Heād never deny his girl a showā¦ without being a tease first.
āMhmā¦ you probably looked really good.ā
āYou sure? Cause I can get covered in blood really fast out in the field and, well, I donāt know if youād want to see that.ā
Heās playfully examining the gun while you watch, satisfied with your full attention on him.
Such a burden, beauty.
Popping out the empty cylinder, he spins it with his thumb and closes it back up. He knows youāre staring at his handsā¦ or maybe youāre staring at the gun?
Seeing requiem in his hands made your heart race a bit faster. Itās easier to imagine how effortlessly he can work the gun on his missions, looking as if it weighs the same as his other pistols. But you know it doesnāt.
He shifts the whole chair towards you, so heās facing you from the front, thighs spread how they always are when heās comfortably sitting. Shifting the gun to one hand, he points it towards the ceiling like he does on missions and looks towards you.
āWhat, got nothing to say now?ā
āIām just observingā¦ā
āWhy donāt you observe a little closer then?ā
He pats his thigh, inviting you into his lap with bright eyes and an eager stare, bicep bulging as he holds the gun upright.
An anticipation dripping with need grew under your skin, rounding your eyes and pupils with hunger.
Lifted from the chair before you can even think, your stride brings you to Leon swiftly.
Swinging your legs over his, the scent of his musk surrounds you immediately. His warm thighs are a welcome seat, free hand going to your waist as soon as youāre fully in his lap.
āThere. Thatās better, isnāt it?ā
āMhm.ā
Leonās features up close have your heart beating faster by the time you realize his eyes are on you, and that theyāve been on you this whole time.
āYou wanted to examine my gun, hm?ā
When he moves it in front of you, he cups the barrel in his other hand and presents it to you for your observing pleasure.
āThis is what you wanted isnāt it?ā Leon begins.
āHm?ā
āTo observe?ā
āCould see just fine beforeā¦ā
A failed attempt at concealing how flustered you had become from Leon patting his lap a moment ago.
āAre you suggesting you arenāt enjoying my lap?ā
āNo! N-no, not at all.ā
āThatās what I thought.ā
āLeonā¦ā
āShh. You wanted to know how I look with it in the field, Right?ā
You nod wordlessly.
āThen be a good girl and observe.ā
His words disarm you, and suddenly youāre looking towards him with the willingness to obey his every word. Iced irises study your expression, how yours become rounded and focused on him as he is you.
A smirk pulls at one corner of his mouth again, watching your eyes trail down to the gun in his hands.
āThereās no other gun like this in the world. Iām the only one whoās got such aā¦ beautiful weapon.ā
You swallow thickly, back of your throat running dry from the way he speaks.
āLook at herā¦ sheās gorgeous, isnāt she?ā
Leon shows off the gun in one of his hands, turning it from side to side as it shines in the light.
āMhmā¦ā
He chuckles, āDonāt worry, baby. Youād never come in second place.ā
His eyes drift between you and the gun, noticing how youāre not staring at him with the gun, youāre staring at the gun in his hand.
Time to test a theory.
āYou havenāt spoken more than a single full sentence since you sat down, you sure youāre okay, baby?ā he taunts.
āIām just enjoying the viewā¦ā
āYouāre brushing the question off, honey. Why donāt you tell me what youāre thinkinā, hm?ā
He brings the gun down in front of you, so your eyes focus back on him.
āTold you.ā
āNo, noā¦ I donāt accept that answer.ā
āLeon.ā you whine.
āWhatās so difficult, huh? You like seeing me with the gun? Maybe I should clean it more often so you can watch.ā
One of your hands moves towards the barrel, wrapping your hand around it slowly.ā
āāS cold.ā you speak again, barely above a whisper.
āUh huh.ā
āItās not loaded, is it?ā
Leon shakes his head, but you knew that already. He watches as you swallow again, exhaling a breathā¦and thus his theory confirmed.
Still in his grip, you lift the barrel up to your face for a closer look, then press a kiss to its muzzle.
Fuck, that made his cock throb.
Leonās never been turned on by guns before, but seeing you like this not only proved him right about you, but itās doing something disgusting to him that lights him up like a live wire.
Fingertips glide down the length of the gunās barrel, and he swears he can feel it on his cock. Those teasing touches of yours, feather light that always force him to thrust upward for more friction than youāre giving him.
āāS prettyā¦ ās so prettyā¦ā you mutter.
This is doing him in way more than heās thought possible.
āOh yeah?ā
His depraved thoughts take over as he moves it closer to your face, your hand still wrapped around it. A small gasp leaves your lips as he presses the cool metal into your skin, dragging it slowly down your neck. Thereās no danger of the gun going off, and yet itās exhilirating with his firm hand under yours.
āThat mind of yours is so dirty it couldnāt let you tell you how much you love my gun, huh?ā
āMhmmā¦ā
Trailing down your neck, he runs it along the hem of your shirt, noting how your breath hitches when you inhale.
āHow ābout you take that shirt off, and we can really see how much you love this gun.ā
Leon already knows you do, the way you ogle at it in his hands says enough. It also goes to show with the hardness of your nipples peeking through your shirt. Grazing the muzzle over the hardened peaks of your chest makes you whine, pressing your lips together.
āCāmon gorgeous.ā
Leonās gruff voice makes your lips part when you exhale, hands going to the hem of your shirt to pull it upwards.
Your tits bounce prettily when they fall from your shirt, a sight his eyes focus on immediately upon your movement.
āThere they are. Pretty girls.ā
Your shirt gets tossed to the side and Leonās eyes burn hot against your skin. He doesnāt touch you, at least not with his hands. Instead he places his free hand on your waist and moves you to one of his thighs, flexing it as soon as your weight is rested there. Your breath hitches when he does so, having to steady yourself from slipping off.
His next move is sliding the cold metal tip of his gun down your neck and through the valley of your breasts, chuckling when he notes the shiver that leaves your lips.
"You're way too turned on because of this." he taunts, swiping the muzzle under the soft flesh before bringing it up over one of your nipples. He takes great pride in the way you seem to keen even more for his touch, when it isn't even him that's touching you.
"Seriously... are you that needy?"
"C-can't I just like your gun?" you almost whisper from the fact that you're frozen in place by all this.
"Hm, no... not without me doing something about it."
"Fuck..."
Leon trails it over your areola and the rest of your soft skin there, blues of his eyes tentatively watching the unforgiving responses your body gives him. It's such entertainment for him.
A moment later he's dragging the barrel down your stomach, cool titanium causing more goosebumps to arise over the expanses of your skin. Your head falls forward to watch, but he clicks his tongue in disapproval.
"Ah ah," he begins, "Eyes on me."
"Leon... please..." you whine, and his eyebrows raise, chuckling to himself. He says nothing further, lucky you weren't wearing any shorts under that t-shirt of yours just to see your panties.
Just the cold metal of the gun brings you much more pleasure than you thought was possible, and you clench around nothing as you exhale another shaky breath. Your hips rut forward in the slightest, pulling another smirk from the older man underneath you.
"Couldn't just tell me you found my gun hot, baby. I would've understood." Leon's using that taunting teasing voice he always has on when he wants to push your buttons about something.
"Didn't think you'd know... what I meant... but- oh..."
You're cut off in surprise at the press of the muzzle into your lower stomach, right above the hem of your panties. All you're thinking about is the sound of the gun going off, how loud it's got to be and the imminent danger you'd be in if he'd actually loaded the cylinder.
The risk of life and death in that very moment only seems to exhilarate you even more.
Leon teases you once more when he almost slips the tip of the gun under the waistband of your underwear, but lets it go before it even touches that area of your skin.
"Oh, I knew. From the second I saw you eyeing my gun."
The vibration of his voice spins in your mind, making your clit throb. Another rut of your hips upward to meet some sort of satisfying friction he was so thoroughly denying you of without his touch.
"Bet you'd fuck this gun if it would fit inside you, huh?"
"Mhmmmh..."
You're whimpering again, little short breaths leaving you as your hips move again, attempting to pick up the pace.
"Oh, that's a yes. Too bad you can't though..."
You try to speed up, but Leon's got you right where he wants you, and there's no escape now. His hand on your waist steadies you, flexing his thigh again and driving you insane.
"Stop movin' your hips, doll. Gotta- fuck."
Before he knew what was happening, your hand reached down to grip at his crotch, very proud of getting him hard over all this.
"Brat. Don't you listen?"
"Mmm... sometimes."
"Better. Or else."
Leon is quick to pull your hand off his growing bulge and interlink your fingers.
"Hmph..."
His eyes rake down your body, right down to the wet spot making itself very noticeable on your panties.
"You're all worked up..." He says, dragging the tip of the gun down the front of your panties and not stopping until it's placed right over that spot.
Not only is it growing cold, but even colder now with the gun pressing into it.
"Oh-"
"Yeah? Like that?"
"Mhm... yes, daddy."
He was wondering when that name would slip from your lips. You seemed so turned on already the moment he got you in his lap, but hearing it now just made his cock throb again. You hesitate grinding your hips upward again, but knowing Leon, he'd have a firm punishment in his mind just for disobeying him again.
"Bein' such a good girl for me."
"Always a good girl for you, daddy. My handsome daddy... Look so good with your gun."
"You look pretty with it like this, baby."
He swallows thickly, adam's apple bobbing when he does so.
"Wanna feel you, daddy. Inside..."
"Oh yeah?"
"Please..." you whine again.
"Gonna soak my thigh first, huh? Bet a needy girl like you could get off just from rubbing yourself against it."
Your eyebrows furrow, needy indeed when all you want is for him to take his cock out and shove it inside you.
"What's that look for? You were so eager about it before. Do it for me, gorgeous. For daddy?"
You nod, never wanting to disappoint him. Especially when he calls himself that name. Your pussy burns with want at the smug expression that plants itself on his face.
"Say it."
"Yes, daddy."
"Good girl. Now show me."
Your hips start slowly, the friction of his sweatpants enough to get you going as you realize the wet spot that's leaked through the cotton of your panties is making the gun's metal even colder. Leon holds the revolver steady against you, making sure it doesn't go anywhere.
The curved corners do wonders for bringing just the right amount of friction against your clit when it bumps up against it. Eyes fluttering closed, your arms wrap around Leon's shoulders and neck, holding on for dear life while your hips rut against the gun.
His free hand goes up to your boobs that bounce lightly with every time you thrust yourself forward, pinching one of your nipples with his fingers. He leans down to kiss your neck with the other, making his way down to the soft flesh of the other that's not being tweaked with his hand.
Leon's tongue rolls out, flitting against your other hard nipple and biting it lightly. That gains him one of the prettiest moans he's heard from you as your hips pick up the pace steadily.
"That's my girl. Keep going. Tell me when you're close."
His stubble scratches against your soft skin when he leans over to lick the one in his hand, making sure to give both attention so you're overflowing with pleasure all from him.
"Leon..."
Doing all this has only made your pussy wetter, and thus the spot on your panties bigger. It's all his fault, but you've gotten yourself into this mess, so you can't place the blame solely on him.
A jolt of pleasure courses through you when you find the perfect angle and your grinding becomes so messy and depraved within a second because of it. The cold metal, Leon's mouth on you, how his thigh muscles flex every so often just to make you moan... it was all too much and not enough.
"Fuck, daddy..."
Leon's lips are swollen and pink when he pulls off your tits eventually, blue eyes glazed over and filled with pleasure.
"Just like that..."
Leon's gaze falls to your panties, huffing a breath of enjoyment when he spots how messy his girl's made herself.
"So perfect like this... all messy, all mine."
"Sh-shit, I'm gettin' close..." you gasped out.
He presses his lips against your neck, stubble scratching as well but it only amplified everything else happening.
"Gonna cum for daddy?"
"Yes... yes, daddy... gonna cum for you.."
You were practically vibrating above him, and Leon looking up at you with his pupils blown wide and dark only made it worse.
You're completely done for when your eyes glance at him for a moment just to see his lips parted, breathing heavily as if he's the one about to cum.
The orgasm ricochets through your entire body, your hips stuttering against the cold metal of the gun and hitting your throbbing clit in the best way possible. He bounces his leg, drawing your orgasm out for longer if he could help it, and you whine, moaning his name.
"Atta girl... did so good, baby."
Your voice feels weak when you try to speak again, lifting your head with a dazed look in your eye.
"Gonna fuck me now, daddy?"
Leon drinks the sight of you in, placing the gun behind you on the table.
gunplay with re9 stepdad leon would actually send me into a coma, where he comes home late one day. heās sitting down, in the dark, on the couch and forgets to put his gun away, but you wake up from all the noise. and find him drinking a beer so you sit next to him. and this leads to that :3
hiiii omg!!! this is peak ngl i hope i hit the bull's eye with this!!!
also ignore leon using requiem as beer opener and everything here is really unrealistic... but who goes to read realistic smut anywayyyy and requiem is the sexiest revolver ive ever seen so dont mind me thirsting over it LMAO.
VELVET DREAMS
re9 Leon Kennedy x female reader | MDNI!! 18+ | dead dove do not eat, stepcest, pseudo incest ig, smut, female reader, gun play, blow job, handjob, teasing, petnames, dirty talk, praise, sorry for mistakes, not proofread
With a heavy step, Leon almost stumbles in the apartment, the sound of the streets dissipates in the looming silence of the hallway, disturbed by him now. His hand presses on the doorknob, checking if he didn't forget to lock the door; good news, it is locked. An automatic action at this point. It is dark, eyes are not used to the lack of light before he turns on the switch, just to feel thousands of needles stab in his eyes, that was a mistake. It ends quickly, turning it off and rubbing away the discomfort; Leon is late and reports suck life out of him worse than a cheap whore would.
A drink would be nice. A bitter, woody taste of whiskey would satisfy any urge, but it is late. And he is not sure if there are any bottles of it in place, the fridge probably has beer, he can tolerate it ā just for tonight, every day wouldn't be just bland.
The smooth neck of the bottle is in his fist, a promising chill comes from it, in the silence of the apartment, Leon sits down on the couch, he can almost hear the voice coming from the beer; you deserve this, taste me. He shakes it off ā beers don't talk, that's exhaustion talking. Requiem tonight is not only his loyal friend, but it is also sturdy enough to open the bottle when he is too lazy to look for the opener in the dark. He places the edges of Requiem under the cap's rims, prying it off until there is a satisfying pop that follows the cap coming off.
The gun would feel heavy in any other hand that is not his, 2 kg is nothing with a huge experience with the weapons, in his field it is mandatory, unless one wants to die; he changed many, and every one of them was a reliable friend for the missions. Still not like his beloved Matilda, even though time has passed he doesn't use it anymore, Requiem could come close as a second place.
He takes a sip, not enough to have an effect, beer barely does anything ā but it satisfies the itching need for alcohol, the smell of it and refreshing liquid moving to his stomach. Another sip. Leon groans and sinks deeper into the couch.
"Leon?" You peek out of the door, rubbing away grogginess from your eyes. Shit. Leon didn't notice how loud he was, you are usually not sleeping at this time. Of course he must have put two and two together, you didn't meet him in the hallway as you usually do.
"Yes, pumpkin?" Leon answers, his head tilts to the side, stubbled cheek rests on the head of his shoulder. You walk in, your head turns right and left, inspecting the familiar room, well, not so successfully, as the sleepiness of sudden awakening heaves on you.
Your mother is barely at home, in any other cases he'd feel terrible, tremendously lonely but you are a delight to have around. Really. Meeting him in the hallway with the brightest gleam in your eyes, like he is some sort of an every day gift, sometimes even with a full cooked meal.
Leon puts the bottle on the floor, before looking back at you. Freeing space, forgetting about the gun next to his thigh."Did I wake you up?" he asks you, letting you plop down next to him, your back pressed against his arm.
"What were you doing?"
"Nothing, really," Leon answers, not thinking too much.
You aren't buying his lie. Reaching to turn on the lamp on the table, the one you always told him to replace the way it is useless due to how it barely illuminates the room, a gleam of the bottle catches your eye.
"You were drinking," you state, your finger traces the neck of the bottle; it is still cold, refreshing. "Huh? A beer?" Leon barely drinks beer, so your voice painted with confusion didn't surprise him.
"It barely does anything," Leon says, his hand coming to squeeze your cheeks together. "But it satisfies cravings before bed." It slides down to grip your lower jaw, tilting your head to meet his eyes.
"Cravings?" you echo. "That makes you sound like an alcoholic."
His thumb caresses your lower lip, tugging down just slightly to expose your lower teeth. An affectionate gesture, Leon can't keep his hands off you every time you loom in front of him.
"Your old man craves rest, alcohol helps with that, as simple as it is." Leon says, hypnotized by the sensation of your softness. His finger taps on your mouth, making you gasp softly and it is an easy go to slip it.
Your lips envelop the thumb, its wet silkiness engulfs his skin, just giving a simple idea how it would be if it was his dick instead. Leon presses on your tongue briefly to mess with you, letting your tongue glide across his finger, coating it with saliva, all while staring back at him with the brightest gleam in your wide eyes, but confused, still good for him, for your step dad. Your thighs rub against each other, hard to hide from him; as if your mouth is connected to your pussy, it gushes sooner than he would ever expect.
"Are you good, sweetheart?" He asks, a nod follows from you, your eyelashes flutter like butterfly's wings. "We are going to find out then, aren't we?"
Something heavy, colder (can't be his hand) presses on your chest, making you gasp around his thumb, trying to look for it, but Leon keeps a good grip on your jaw, putting down your curiosity.
"Look at me," he says, while pressing even more the barrel of the Requiem against your clothed chest. "Can you guess what it is?"
You are not sure.
He traces in clockwise the outline of your breast, watching your chest hitch briefly, shakily inhaling around his thumb. On the wet skin, your inhale brings a contrasting sensation, colder before the warmth of your mouth engulfs it back. You can't really answer, as much as you want, the finger presses on your tongue, any possible words turn into a muffled sound, while the muzzle presses into plush covered flesh, before it glides higher just to stop on the side of your neck. There is no barrier that could minimize the sensation, the cold metal kisses your skin, blood pumps in the veins as your suspicion confirms. You mewl, clenching your thighs harder together, it all goes straight to his dick, an ache that fills his own mind with images of you on your knees, him tapping his dick on your lip before thrusting in your mouth. Leon tugs on his pants, trying to ease the pressure as his eyes can read all questions that start swarming in your head; is it loaded? Will he hurt you? Did you anger him?
"You look like you want to suck on it, baby," Leon teases, but you don't try to deny it. Like a dad, your step dad, always wanting something in your mouth. If you were related, you'd take that from him.
He moves the gun, the barrel presses against your cheek. His thumb is pulled out of your mouth with a loud, wet pop, admiring your dumb look with parted mouth and the string of saliva that connects his finger ā dumb, but hot enough to make his dick throb heavier in his pants.
You shift, Leon lets you sit between his spread legs, with the evident swell in front of your eyes, before drifting your attention to the heaviness of muzzle against your lips. You hesitantly press your tongue against it, tracing the void of the circled shape, before tilting your head to the side, letting your tongue slide across the long barrel of Requiem.
"Open up, come on," Leon shakes it impatiently, gripping your head to bring your mouth back to the muzzle. "be a good girl for your dad."
You can't refuse him, even a frown doesn't remove that cat traits his face has, the ones you love so much; routinely promising to yourself you won't seek time with him, he is a busy man, he needs to have his own free time until his face appears in front of you, it whips any possible thought in your head, dumbing you and replacing with the need of him instead. Tonight it is his dick and attention, your mouth opens up, trying to make it wider as possible.
"I wanna see this tongue, baby, don't be shy," Leon tsks, your tongue lolls out, "Good girl, do it for me."
Finally the heaviness of the barrel connects with it, moving his hand enough to let it slide back and forth on the slick surface. More saliva pools in your mouth, trying to swallow it but useless as it starts slowly dripping, making the gun slicker, while drooling on the floor worse than a puppy waiting for a treat. Frisson runs across all his body just from the sight in front of him, your ears catches a shuffling noise of taking off the belt and with a clear, impatient motion he frees his dick. Hard flesh bobs up to his hip, your eyes follow a light curve with a prominent vein along the length, the one that begs you to lean to his dick, to trace it before sinking your mouth onto length. It twitches in air with a red tip, silently begging for attention before his palm curls around it.
Your mouth tries to close around the muzzle, making your eyes tear from the painful stretch, of course you can't take it. It is huge. His dick throbs in his fist at your struggle, tightens the tunnel around his cockhead, squeezing it.
"Too big, sweetheart," Leon groans, keeping pumping his dick in a quick pace. You pull back with a wince, the best option is to give up and let it glide across the silky, wet surface. "don't bite off more than you can chew."
You don't have anyone to impress here, your tongue lolls out and the taste of metal returns, letting your tongue to swirl around it, while your eyes follow his hand; up and down in a quick successions, beads of pre-cum form on the slit, ā enough to remind you how frustratingly empty your cunt is right now, you want to climb on top of him and grind on his dick, to make him feel how much you are wet and how much you want him.
Leon wouldn't mind you playing with yourself right? You hope he wouldn't, right now it feels like you are going to die if nothing will touch your aching cunt. Your hand slips down, underneath the fabric to spread your dripping lips, two fingers dip in the folds and your hips jerk. Fuck, a little of pressure on your clit is enough for a shaky exhale to slip.
The taste of metal on your tongue, his dick twitching and leaking after every stroke in front of you, and your fingers pet the swollen clit, he can't see your pussy, how your folds are glistening and slick right now, but Leon can hear it, oh, so well ā it sounds so wet. Shlick, shlick! The noise is audible in the room, not as much as your drooling mouth from which desperate whimpers slip, still is enough to make his cock twitch.
"Are you going to cum just by sucking this gun?" Leon asks, before shaking his head with disbelief. You nod with teary eyes, as your fingers work, hips buck messily against them. "Fuck, atta girl," he exhales. "Make it soaked, we'll see if I fuck your cunt with it next time."
His fist cups his dick tighter, pumping as more pre-cum starts to spill from the slit. His cock twitches in his hand, quickening the pace after every stroke, hips buck up to meet his fist.
"Wanna know if it is loaded?" he asks, breathlessly as he sinks deeper into the couch, trying to catch answer from your body ā of course you do, even if another muffled whimper, slipped from your mouth, sounded like a no, the muzzle tries to force itself more into your mouth.
Your pussy clamps down tight around nothing, feeling dizzy as your body overwhelms you heavily, like a fucking mess cumming from the taste of his gun, the threat of him pulling the trigger and the sight his pumping fist that cups his dick tighter. His finger caresses the trigger, a threat that your eyes stare at, gleaming with fear while your hips buck against your fingers, shamelessly playing with your clit. Click! You wince, like a flash of pain just passed and your brains are blown all over the wall, just to realize nothing happened ā for a second letting out a shaky exhale, not remembering when your eyes shut down. Oh right. You are out of it with trembling legs, so thankful you are not on your feet, and shaky, muffled whimpers against the muzzle.
Adrenaline probably, your body shakes like a newborn leaf during spring storms. Another click! Of course it is not fucking loaded and you just came because of this. His dick throbs, his ball tightens and Leon grunts. Fuck, too soon and he didn't even fuck you. Leon pulls away the gun, breaking the string of saliva that connects your mouth with the muzzle. The last memory of it, glistening in the badly illuminated room.
"Keep it open, dad is going to give you a real thing." Leon grunts impatiently, pressing the gun under jaw ā easier to keep the angle.
The soft and plush skin of your lower lip connects with his tip, pressing it against your lips as if asking for a kiss. You don't hesitate, kissing the hot hardened flesh, smearing your lips with pre-cum like a new lipstick gifted by your step dad. Your tongue peeks out to taste the bitterness of him, before continuing peppering his dick with affection until he takes control in his hand, now slowly tracing the form of your lip with his tip, teasing himself for what is going to come.
His hips thrust, dick slides in easily until the tip doesn't knock against the back of your throat. The warm and wet heat of your mouth envelops it, your tongue flicks along the shaft enough to make him groan. His dick is not as heavy as a gun, tasting sweat and bitterness of pre-cum even more than it was on your lips. He rocks into your mouth, his cock is slick with all your excess saliva, sloppily moving out and back into your drooling mouth. With long strokes of his hips his dick knocks the back of your throat, enjoying the wetness of your tongue brushing along his sliding length. The constant stimulation of your tongue makes it too hard to stay still, it flicks on his tip at every back and forth movement of his cock, which is enough to remind himself how close he is. And you can feel it acutely, your tongue traces the shape of him, the prominent vein of his cock doesn't hide that fact, you can feel it pulse as a clear signal he is about to come in your mouth.
His balls tighten painfully, Leon wants to prolong this, to savor your lips stretching around his cock, maybe even pull back to fuck your cunt, surely slick folds would feel even better, tighter while he'd press the gun against your head. Or even better, to fuck you with it, rubbing it across your dripping folds to coat it well before pushing it inside you. The muzzle presses harder against your skin in a shaky grip. Click! Your throat clenches around his dick as it slid deeper briefly, like you forgot it is not loaded. This only fuels his quick approaching orgasm.
And that's hot; your eyes tearing up at slightly deeper angles than before, a brief second of your throat tightening around his cock was enough for Leon. The gun falls down on the floor, a loud ignored thud from both of you. He tenses up as his hips roll forward into your mouth, a last attempt to bury your face against his pubes, not that successful. His eyes rolling back before his dick starts spilling the load of sperm in your mouth, keeping himself still and focusing on the overwhelming warmth of your mouth around him. With a heavy gaze he is watching your messy face, glistening eyes directed at him, your lips stretched around his cock, drooling down onto the floor and sloppily taking him so well. Your throat bobs as you keep swallowing.
With a loud wet pop, his slowly softened dick slips out of your mouth. Your head falls lazily to rest on the inner side of his thigh, half-lidded gaze is still directed to him; your lips are puffier than before, glistening with the saliva. When Leon notices your breath starting to slow down, like you are about to fall asleep, he clears his throat, adjusting himself.
"Come here." His hand waves towards him.
"Mm?" You even sound like you are not here, already a step away from falling asleep.
"Come on, I'm going to tuck you to bed," Leon says, tugging you up on his lap, ignoring your light frown and mumbling full of annoyance, like he ruined your sleep. He kinda did, but before he fucked your face.
"I was fine there, Leon." You yawn, your arm rests on his back, head falls into the crook of his neck. Leon shakes his head, his hand rubs your back.
āGet This! Gerard Way, My Chemical Romance, recommends The Sims 2.āĀ Kerrang!Ā #1031, November 2004.
āWhat I like aboutĀ āThe Simsā is that I donāt have a normal life at all, so I play this game where these people have these really boring, mundane lives. Itās fun. My Sims family is called the Cholly family. I donāt know why I picked that name; itās kind of random. The teenage daughter is my favorite, because I just had her go through this Goth phase. Sheās really kind of nerdy and she just became a concert violinist, which is pretty huge for the family. And she got into private school. But she started wearing black lipstick and she died [sic] her hair purple. Itās pretty huge.ā
i love when she is like viscerally horny over ray especially whenever he starts going ham on guitar i think it works her up even more . boy your shredding and bunny hops make me sweat!
you know i also have to mention i think when heās nerdy it lowkey gets her going too. heās in full templar garb and sheās drooling over it . she probably starts panting when he starts gushing over transformers or star wars
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