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I will also occasionally make OC content when i'm feeling lazy :p
currently writing for... ── .✦
⤷ ゛ ˎˊ˗ mostly resident evil,, cyberpunk,, elder scrolls,, dragon age .ᐟ.ᐟ more fics soon to come!
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"I don't want any more regrets. Whatever it takes, count me in."
genuinely one of my FAVORITE re protags aside from Rebecca !! perhaps i am still on the post game release high, but when i start playing re9, i have more trouble putting it down than i do picking that up and part of that is the survival side of grace's gameplay as well as the story. and leon being a girl dad to ANOTHER blonde woman is just,,., *chef's kiss* CINEMA.
feel as though we've entered yet another fanfic famine with the lack of wlw grace x fem reader content out there... (that being said, if ANYONE finds any, please send them my way!!!!!!!)
Everything changed the day Amira was born.
The world outside was collapsing — bombs, dust, screams, and fear. Yet inside a small room, by the dim light of a single candle, a new life began.
While others were running for shelter, I was holding my newborn daughter, trembling, crying, trying to believe that something so pure could still exist in a place like Gaza.
I named her Amira, because I wanted her to feel like a child of life —not a child of war.
A year has passed since that night, but nothing has really changed
Our house is still rubble, our streets still carry the smell of smoke, and the sky still echoes with sounds that make Amira flinch in her sleep.
She has just turned one.
She’s learning to walk, holding my finger with her tiny hand, laughing at the smallest things — as if she doesn’t see the destruction around her.
She doesn’t know the word “loss.”
She never met her father, but when she smiles, I see him there.
Sometimes I watch her sleeping, and I wonder what kind of world she will grow up in — whether she will ever know what peace feels like, what home smells like.
And yet, when she opens her eyes in the morning and says “mama,” everything becomes bearable again.
I want to rebuild our home.
Not just for the walls — but for her future.
For Amira to have a small room, a safe place to dream, a life that belongs to her, not to war.
I’m not asking for much. Only for a chance to give her a beginning filled with warmth instead of fear
My name is Saja. I am a mother, a wife, and just one of many women in Gaza trying to hold on — to hope, to my family, and to a life that no
A Mother’s Message
To everyone reading this — thank you for listening to our story.
Your kindness means more than words.
Every share, every message, every donation — it all helps me rebuild not just a house, but a future for Amira.
From the heart of Gaza, from a mother learning to hope again —
we will live. And I will make sure my daughter grows up in a world that knows love more than war.
characters included: leon kennedy, chris redfield, luis serra, carlos oliveira, billy coen, piers nivans, jake muller, albert wesker, ethan winters,
tags: nsfw warning !! slight angst, major fluff, toxic behavior, and plenty more i forgot
a/n: i'm defo making one for the re girls (tbh im more excited for that) but a wave of inspiration hit me and i just had to crank this out. hope u enjoy! these are also just my headcanons so if theyre not your cup of tea, i do apologize </3 hope u enjoy!
╰┈➤ ⋆˚࿔⋮ leon kennedy
loves worshiping your body and making you feel loved
sees marking as a sign of affection rather than possession
leaves a lot of marks near your inner thighs, chest, and neck
loves giving and receiving; leon's obsessed with being shown how much his partner loves him
his placements and marks are deliberate and soft, he loves taking his time with you
╰┈➤ ⋆˚࿔⋮ chris redfield
absolute zero shame; will intensely kiss your neck while out on date night
loves the idea of getting you flustered in public
anytime you give him marks, he will flaunt them proudly-- short sleeves, tank tops, unbridled confidence
he takes any and every opportunity to show off his marks, even finding casual excuses to go out (washing your car, going to the gym, grocery shopping, etc)
╰┈➤ ⋆˚࿔⋮ luis serra
calls them 'souvenirs' or 'gifts' anytime he marks you
weirdly sneaky with his hickeys, you're always finding new marks in new places
will purposefully leave marks on your neck when he knows you have an important event coming up
teases you relentlessly when you're embarrassed about them
will question when you try to cover them up, playfully of course
╰┈➤ ⋆˚࿔⋮ carlos oliveira
likes them a little messy
he loves seeing other people know he's taken
prefers to receive rather than give
traces the marks you give him like a badge of honor
acts cocky about it at first, but secretly loves the attention they get him
╰┈➤ ⋆˚࿔⋮ billy coen
doesnt love the attention, so visible hickeys on himself makes him tense
loves the idea of other guys seeing marks on you, knowing you're taken
prefers hidden ones: collarbones, chest, places just for you
loves kissing and touching your body, his marks scatter your skin like sun spots
╰┈➤ ⋆˚࿔⋮ piers nivans
LOVES receiving !!
overthinks how obvious they are
steals your concealer to cover the hickeys, fails miserably
absolutely melts anytime you kiss his neck or give him marks
╰┈➤ ⋆˚࿔⋮ jake muller
cocky about it if youre being bratty, "that's not what you were saying when my lips were on your neck"
gives them impulsively, without even realizing it
loves when you mark him, especially if its obvious
treats it like a game: how many can he give you, how long can they last, etc, etc.
╰┈➤ ⋆˚࿔⋮ albert wesker
does. not. like. being. marked
if he allows it, its hidden and intentional
enjoys the control of giving you marks
will make you wear clothes that reveal the hickeys he gave you
theres not much kissing in general for him; he prefers to watch you like a performance
╰┈➤ ⋆˚࿔⋮ ethan winters
gives them accidently, but enthusiastically
he's pretty vanilla and domestic, but will absolutely give you hickeys when you ask
likes giving you marks where only HE can see
confused at first, "Oh-- did i just do that?"
loves kissing your lips/face so marking is rare for him
Click here for my masterlist ⟢ Click here to make a request
⟢ Tags: sub!leon, dom!reader, fem bodied reader,
sad pathetic re2 leon, dumbification, unprotected sex, creampie, hurt no comfort, post breakup, dacryphilia, marking and hickeys, p in v, oral, and plenty more i forgot LOLL
⟢ Summary: After a sudden and brutal breakup, Leon is forced into a new life without you. Convinced he's owed an explanation, he refuses to let go-- replaying every moment, every word, chasing the idea that if he just tries hard enough, you'll come back. Because in his mind, it isn't over. Not really.
⟢ Word count:
⟢ A/N: Dedicating this fic to my amazing best friend who i know has been thirsting for some rookie leon content from me. Ask and i shall deliver (even if it is months later). I love you J <3
⟢ also on ao3
The apartment smelled like dust, cheap dollar store cleaner, and someone’s else’s life. Leon stood in the middle of it, hands on his hips, staring at the few empty boxes of belonging that he owned like they personally betrayed him. His mouth was a thin line, eyebrows furrowed, as he wanted to do nothing more than to collapse on the floor and drift into a mellow sleep.
Leon felt like he was visiting a morgue. The walls were cold, the air was sterile. The entire place was lifeless. But it was his — if he could call it that. His clothes were shoved in a dresser that didnt close all the way. His toothbrush rattled alone in a bathroom cup. No pictures on the walls. No you.
It didnt feel temporary enough to be a pit stop and not permanent enough to be real. It felt like agonizing punishment. You were his entire life. Working felt pointless if he couldnt spend money on you. Sleeping meant nothing because you wouldn't be there to wake up with him. Even jerking off was futile because there was no pleasure without you.
Leon groaned, rubbing his hands over his face, the oils and sweat sticking to his skin. He couldn't remember the last time he showered. Maybe a few days ago? He told himself he would only stay one night in his new apartment before calling you. Just to cool off. Just to give you space. That was the lie he'd been repeating to himself as he spent the day unpacking and breaking down cheap cardboard boxes.
His senses were rattled entirely by the thought of you. Every item he owned reminded him of you, smelled like you, even something to fickle as cardboard boxes reminded him when the two of you moved in together. It was an awkward last week the two of you shared. Minimal words were shared. And you had hardly been home in a hopeless attempt to avoid interacting with Leon as if he were a goddamn parasite.
It broke him when he thought about how cold you had become. How a month ago, the two of you were cuddled up on the couch, watching the newest episode airing on TV. Or how he would come up behind you while cooking and embrace you. Or showering together, bodies pressed under the warm water.
Leon shook his head, swallowing back the lump forming in his throat. It was too recent, too raw to digest. Leon lied back on the bare mattress on his bedroom floor. His phone was already in his palms-- he didnt remember putting it there. Your name burned into the screen like muscle memory, like instinct.
He was owed an explanation, a reason. You said you were suffocated. That moving in together was a mistake. That all of this was too fast. He replayed the breakup over and over, searching for the missing piece. You were so happy before. A month ago, even a week ago, Leon never would have expected everything to crumble in his hands and slip between his fingers.
People just dont walk away like that. Not like this, not from him. Leon clenched his jaw, chest tight, breath shallow. If you’d just explain it-- just talk to him-- he could fix it. He always fixed things. And if you told him to wait, he would. If you told him to leave you alone, he’d try. But not yet. Not without answers. Not without you saying it to his face.
Leon rested an arm between the cradle of his neck and the mattress and held his phone above his face with the other. Your contact flooded the screen, his favorite picture of you hypnotized him. You were so happy in the photo-- so beautiful. His finger hovered above the 'call' button as he hesitated. He shook his head, remembering his no-call vow. So he texted you instead.
hey.
No immediate reply. He decided not to wait.
just finished unpacking.
i think i left something at your place.
Three little dots appeared as he sent the last message. Leon sat up, blood rushing to his head as he moved too quickly.
Your phone screen blinds you as you pick it up, hearing it buzz you awake.
What is it? You reply, shaking your head in disbelief.
You werent pleased to have your sleep be disrupted by your ex. It was just another sad attempt at trying to coin your attention. In a way, you liked it. A change of routine. A real desperate and pleading want by Leon.
He had grown traditional in his affections. Flowers every week, flooding texting throughout the day that made you nearly shackled to your phone. It was work being in a relationship with him. And you had adapted. But it was never meant to last with you, and you selfishly knew it from the beginning.
my badge. Leon replys.
should be on the dresser. i always left it there.
You groan, rolling onto your side to check if it damn badge was where he left it. Sure enough, and unfortunately for you, it was.
It's here.
i'll need it for work tomorrow. mind if i swing by to get it?
I dont want you in my apartment. Be there soon.
He's already standing by the door when the knock comes. Leon doesnt remember when he got there, or how long he's been staring at the door waiting for you to arrive. Just that his hand is on the handle and his heart is kicking, trying to break free from his ribs.
He waits a beat too long to open it. He can't decide if he's relieved or unhappy to see you. He was mostly unhappy to see the scowl on your face where an eager smile should be. But there you were, hair messy, jacket zipped up, and his police badge heavy in your hand like it weighed more than it should.
For a second, neither of you speak. You dont know why you waited after he took it. Your brain demanded you to leave. But the tug in your chest begged you to stay.
You looked the same, too. That was the worst part to Leon. Same tired eyes, same flat mouth that used to soften when you saw him. Leon felt something ugly in his chest. A tincture of relief, guilt, anger, and hope all rolled into one like a diesel-tasting cigarette.
He steps aside automatically. He's let you in anywhere, always has.
"You can just hand it to me." Leon says, too quick, his mouth was impatient to fill the gaps in sound. He was afraid that if he stayed too quiet, you would get bored again and leave. Or stay. And leave again.
You dont move right away. Instead, your gaze flicks past him and takes in the apartment. The bare walls, the empty living room, the white noise coming from his humming fridge. Something shifts in your face. Not guilt or pity, but confirmation.
"This is... temporary, right? Texting in the middle of the night asking for your shit back?" You ask, pretending not to know the answer.
Leon swallows, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Yeah. I mean-- yeah. Just until we get things figured out."
You laugh softly, once. It isn't kind. "Leon."
That's it. Just his name. Once saying like a blessed prayer, now muttered as a hex. It hits him harder than any bullet or any argument. He wanted to curse, scream at the world, at a creator, anyone but you though you made him so damn angry.
He reaches for the badge when you hold it out, but your fingers don’t let go right away. For half a second, he thinks 'this is it'. This is the moment you say what he’s been waiting to hear. The explanation. The reason. The thing that makes all of this make sense.
Instead, you release it and take a step back.
"I dont want you texting me like that anymore." You say, calm, measured. Like you practiced it before, "Showing up, asking for excuses to see me. It's not fair."
"To who?" He spits, unable to stop himself, "Because it's not fair to just-- just drop me and act like I dont deserve to know why."
Your jaw tightens, "I dont owe you that."
The words land, piercing and ice cold. Leon's hands curled around the badge until cold metal digs into his palm. He wants to argue. he wants to raise his voice and declare to the world that he deserves justice. He wanted to scream that he gave you everything: his heart, his time, his goddamn future.
“If you tell me to stop,” he says, quieter now, desperate, “I will. Just-- say it. Say it to my face.”
But you didnt. You just stared at him, blinking back tears in your eyes. But Leon knew that face like it was the key to his car. There was nothing you could hide from him, the two of you knew it. Whatever... this was, it wasnt the end, not really.
His hands fall to his side as he shrugs, palms facing outward as if offering you an invitation will make it easier. But your denial never came.
You shake your head, "This doesnt have to be the end."
Leon purses his lips as you continue, "If you just give me time, i can figure my shit out. You mean something to me. I dont want to lose you completely."
He blinked, mistrusting his own hearing. His head turned to face yours, alert and suddenly ridden with adrenaline. He was sure you were able to see his heart pounding through his shirt.
"I dont want to be just your fuck buddy." He said sheepishly, his eyes fluttering to the ground, unable to look at you as he braced for disappointment.
"Baby," You reassure him, cupping your hand around his cheek and resting your hand on his shoulder with the other, "You're not. Just give me a little bit of time, okay?"
And just like that, he melted under your touch. All the warning signs in his head, every microfiber inside him warning him not to listen faded into oblivion.
He couldn't help himself. Obsessed with the idea of having you back, even for a moment. Seeing your beauty underneath him, knowing that he was the only one you wanted to make yourself feel good. It was small, but it was something.
He swallowed, solace enveloping him as closed his eyes and nodded quickly, "Okay." He finally said. His head was buzzing with excitement, his lips tingled at the energy running through him.
Though his blue eyes were still closed, he felt the familiar taste of your lips on his. The soft plumpness of your kiss worked a small whine from his throat.
It's soft and tentative, at first. Like you were merely testing waters as if it were the first time, making sure he wasnt ready to pull away. he doesnt. Leon leans into it immediately, breath catching in his throat as if his body has been waiting for permission. His hands hover over your hips, uncertain, before settling onto the fabric-- careful and restrained, scared to hold you too close in fear he may lose you again.
You slipped your tongue into his warm mouth while he parted them to breathe. You tasted the same. That stupid detail made his chest ache.
For a moment, his lifeless apartment disappears. The bare walls, the mattress on the floor and box of clothes still half-unpacked; none of it mattered to Leon. All Leon can think about is how right this feels, how easy. Proof, in his mind, that this can’t be over. People don’t kiss like this if they’re done. They don’t touch like this if they don’t mean it.
He pulls back long enough to breathe, to absorb your face, hand wrapped softly against the back of your neck. "We're okay," He murmurs, a buzz from his chest, "We're... We'll be okay."
you didnt correct him. It would feel too cruel to. Instead, your thumb brushes the familiar edge of his jawbone, slow and soothing. Leon chased the warmth of our touch, leaning into whatever you would offer him gratefully.
He tells himself this is patience. This is trust. The back and forth and constant adaptation to your life. That wanting you, even like this, is better than not having you at all.
Leon wrapped his arms around your waist, his hands traveling down your hips and into your ass, pushing you into his bulge in his pants. He couldn't help himself-- he would die to have you again, even if it is the last time.
Unable to keep his hands to himself, every inch of your frame that he explored, he felt himself growing harder. And now, chests pressed against each other, Leon could barely concentrate on anything beside you. He was utterly beside himself, embarrassingly so. No self respecting man would ever allow their feelings to be tossed aside and used again at his girlfriend's leisure.
Any attempts to resist prove futile, however. Your swollen lips pressed against his, slick with shared spit. Your hands traveling his body, running up his shirt and down his bare chest. He could pass on right now and consider himself satisfied.
You try to pull away for a moment, if anything for the chance to breathe. Leon's mouth followed yours like a buzzard, his desperation giving him away like a cheap poker face. You grab him by his shirt collar to get a clear word out as you say though a flurry of desire, "Leon," You gasp breathlessly, "I want..."
Your voice trails off as Leon already knows exactly what you want. He had executed this routine several times over, knowing your cravings and your body better than anyone could dream of. Even if his relationship with you really was over after this, he could still get the depraved satisfaction knowing that he knew your body best. Burningly so. That no matter who you would be with in the future, it would be him in the back of your mind.
Leon guided you to the kitchen, lifting your hips onto the counter with ease with minimal breaks between sloppy kisses. You wrap your legs around his waist, hooking your fingers under his shirt, demanding its removal. Leon practically clawed at your willowy top, hungry for your body.
He mentally swears at himself for allowing this mess, this unwanted compilation. Despite his notion, he gives in to you. Leon lathes onto your chest, swirling his tongue around the buds and sucking sharply. The feeling is unimaginable as your jaw falls open, Leon moaning nearly as loud as you.
He bathes your chest is kisses, dragging his mouth across every surface in his reach. Moving downward, he nips softly at your skin, leaving a trail of purple marks. Even still, the only thing from your mouth came precious moans.
Leon wanted words. He wanted you to tell him that he was the only one that could make you feel this way. To say that you only wanted him. He wanted you to say how good you were feeling, that you wanted more. He wanted you to scream his name and every dirty word from inside you.
Still, his tongue and kisses trailed down to your pussy. As he kneels below you, his head level with your soaking cunt, he wastes no time in teasing or delaying the rapture. He flattens his tongue inside you, groaning and lapping every inch he can get. Leon's nose nuzzles against your clit repeatedly, roughly, and when he tilts his head to suck on the sensitive nub, the entire area is coated with your slick.
He snuck one of his fingers inside your pussy, curling it as he pumped inside you, still licking at your delicate bud. "Ahh-- fuck, Leon." He hears you whisper his name.
He felt his cock throb inside his pants, desperate to be buried inside you. When you moan out his name, he presses slow heated kisses on your slit; legs shivering in delight as you squeeze them around his head. The pressure exhilarates him.
"You're so pretty like this, baby." He coos, slipping another finger inside your dripping warmth. He runs his free hand up your thigh and running across your hips and waist. His touch sent shivers through you as he dove his head back into your pussy with a punctuated suck on your clit.
You reach down for his head, grabbing a fistfull of his shaggy blond hair. You force his head up, making him look at you. Leon's eyes grow wide at your sudden dominance. He worried for a moment if he said something, did something to make you want to stop. He briefly panicked thinking you might leave-- that he might lose you again.
So he obeyed, cowering under your touch like it was a god-sent gift. You guided him up to you, Leon swallowing anxiously as you leaned into him He braced him arms on the countertop beside you, lips moving to grapple yours in a blurry haze. You tasted yourself on him, eyes fanning closed as you allowed yourself to be consumed.
Your hands reached down to his pants, untying the drawstring and pushing them off his hips. He followed, shoving them down his legs and kicking them off his ankles. Discarding his boxers, Leon's dick sprang from the fabric displayed it like an offering.
You bite down on your lower lip, your chest purring with want. You draw Leon back in, whispering in his ear, “I want you to fuck me.”
Leon melted under the weight of your words, resting his heavy head against your cheek and absorbing the softness of your skin. Your demand was a siren’s call to him. His own need trumped over any and all logic that rooted him.
“Whatever you need, baby,” He whispered, husk littering his voice. He knew this would hurt him later, bite him in the ass. He knew that he should say no and make you leave and never see you again. But he just couldn’t stop himself from obeying. You were a force too great for him to withstand.
He couldn't stop himself from lining up his throbbing cock with your entrance, whining as his tip-- leaky with precum-- etched against the wetness of your pussy. It was all so much, too good for his reality. He must've been dreaming.
Leon whined out your name as he eased himself inside of you, pursing his lips in an effort to stay quiet. He breathed heavily, shaky lips trembled as he asked you, “H,how do you feel?”
"Y, yes, nggh, y'feel so good," You shuddered, tension relieving your body as Leon made you feel good.
Leon decided he didnt care about his future regret. He didnt care that you would hurt him later. All Leon wanted to do was make you feel good. If this was the last time he had the privilege of seeing you this way, mouth hanging open and legs spread, then he would give you the best.
You dug into his bare shoulders, nails pricking his warm skin as he held you steady with strong hands. He rutted inside you like it was the first time: shaky, nervous rhythm. His hands pressed into your hips, guiding them into himself. He knew the exact ways to intoxicate you. Slow deep thrusts allowing you to feel every inch and pulse of his cock.
Your words spurred him on, his thrusting was pleading and freakish like a virgin. He cursed under his breath, already coming close to finishing inside you.
He slowed himself down again, frustration welling up inside him. One of his last chances to fuck you and he was already close. Embarrassment flooded his face, red with flush.
"You can handle it, Leon," You whisper between jagged thrusts, your hot breath beating onto his neck, "You know how to fuck me the way I love." He felt his cock twitch inside you.
He dipped his head back and whimpered, his voice breaking from the pleasure, "God you're s, so wet..." He shuddered, carnal embrace urging goosebumps from his skin.
"This is what you do to me, Leon." You say, groping your tits with one hand and holding onto his shoulders with the other, "D, drives me fuckin' crazy," You let out an automatic moan, his leaky tip hitting all the right spots to make you scream.
You scoot your ass closer toward Leon's pelvis, a shiver running through your arched back. You feel the entirety of his length, tip snugged firmly against your cervix.
Leon leaned over you, his head dipping down to suck your sensitive nipples. A deep moan comes from your chest as he tugged and teased it with his canines.
"Mhh . . " Leon whined against your nipple, gazing up and seeing how blissed out you were. He lets your bud slip from his mouth, trailing his kiss up, up your breast, collarbone, jaw, lips.
"I love you, love you so much," leon whispered, tucking away sweat-soaked hair that stuck to your cheek.
"I love this dick," you reply in between pants and gasps for air, "Fuckin' f,fills me so good."
It didnt matter to him that you didnt say it back. Not in the moment, at least. It wasnt what he wanted to hear right now. He wanted to hear you scream in pleasure, wanted to just go stupid by fucking you-- hoping that it might make him forget about the heartbreak.
He kisses you like it's the first time, like he's starved. grunting against your lips as his tongue finds its way in your mouth. You don't mind how messy the kiss is, how spit's leaking from his mouth; you just wanted to be touched by him again.
You cry out his name to the room, the empty walls of his shitty apartment as your audience. His dark brows scrunched up-- whimpers mingling in with yours. Leon's head was empty, save for the single demand of your pleasure. You could ask Leon to do anything you wanted and he would immediately comply.
His legs were weak beneath him, struggling to keep pace and even stand. Leon whimpered as he gripped the edge of the counter, a pathetic way to keep himself standing.
Again-- he cursed your name before peppering your neck with open mouthed kisses, feeling the rumbles of your moans on your skin.
"Fuck, Leon--" You gasped, "Keep fuckin' goin', babe, dont you dare stop."
"F, feels so... s,so good, nngh..!" He cried, eyes rolling back with pleasure. But he obeyed, forcing his hips to thrust into you faster. He tried to ignore how shaky with ecstasy he had become. How undone he became by you.
"I... can't--" Leon pleaded, a lump forming in his throat. He was absolutely enveloped by you. His twitching cock ached for a release. As much as he wanted to prolong it, have you in his arms for the rest of the week, it was something impossible to ask of you.
You grabbed his jaw in your fingers, forcing his face to inch closer to yours. His bright eyes, salty wet tears forming in their center. He didnt want to end this; he didnt want to lose you. Not just yet.
"I didnt tell you to stop," You demand between his thrusting, "You're going to keep showing me how much you love me, yeah?"
Leon's mouth fell open, hot tears falling down his cheek. You brush it away with your thumb, curling your palm around his neck and forcing his mouth into yours. You could taste his watery sorrow on your tongue, his tears falling in your mouth.
"Nod for me," You say, pulling back, "You're n, not gonna stop fucking me until you cum."
Leon nodded desperate for release, heat building in his groin with each thrust into you. His head bobbed quickly as his pummeling grew faster, deeper inside of you. It was the best he could utter in his haze, but you understood well enough.
His knees buckled beneath him. Leon could barely stand though his relentless kneading into your pussy continued. It was all that mattered to him. His pathetic devolution into a whiny puppy had you clinging onto the edge of orgasm, your nails digging into Leon as you whined out his name into his ear.
Leon babbled incoherently about how good your pussy felt wrapped around him and about how much he missed you-- missed this. You inched your hips into his cock as he thrusted into you, your best attempt at matching his fleeting and ever changing pace. His length curved into your g-spot as you moved, the perfect angle for you to get off. You pulsed around him as he slid against your slick walls.
A bit in your belly warms as you inch closer to finishing, making you clench tighter and making him thrust faster. His eyes roll into his head, allowing more streaky tears to fall down his jaw. He couldn't take the pleasure. It made him so drunk that he couldn't even stand properly. And your cute little pussy just keeps sucking him up, a little creamy ring dripping onto him.
He didnt stop; even after he cried out your name in release, shooting ribbons of cum into your pulsing cunt wrapped tightly against him, keeping himself inside. His rhythm is off, twitching inside you as he fucked himself through orgasm. Like his body is fighting itself-- overstimulated but desperate to stay connected.
"Look at that," You purred, coming down from the beautiful release, "If only you could see yourself, pretty tears," You whisper, Leon's rutting finally slowing to a halt as he pushed his sticky cum deeper inside. He leaned over you, his body weight resting on his forearms atop the counter.
"And look at you now," You giggled, "Like you just melted away,” You opened your arms for Leon as he wrapped himself around you.
His entire body shuddered as he placed warm, soft kisses along the back of your neck in embrace.
“T,thank you…” He whispered into your skin. You replied by stroking your fingers down his spine.
You hopped off the countertop, taking Leon’s hands in your own, “C’mon,” you hummed, “Lets get you cleaned up. Wheres the shower?”
Leon, still breathless, followed you with a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. and for a moment, it still felt like you were together. That somehow, things could go back to the way it used to.
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Tags: 18+, Sub!Chris, Dom!Reader, dry humping, grinding, semi public sex, car sex, handjob, spitting, 2x orgasm
Summary: Your boyfriend, Chris, suprises you with a weekend camping trip in the woods. You're far from an outdoors woman, much to your own dismay. Looks like you're stuck spending your getaway sleeping out of a tent, hand-filtering your water, and foraging for food. Not your idea of relaxing. But there's other ways of making sure you enjoy yourself during your time out of town. Starting with the drive there.
Word count: 4155
Your shoulders loosened a little when Chris ordered to take you away for the weekend. He promised you two days of complete relaxation. Your mind quickly swelled with what to expect— dinner reservations at a newly opened restaurant, a suite in a hotel downtown fixed with expensive champagne, luxury spas, all wrapped up and signed by your boyfriend to complete.
What you werent expecting was something so primitive as… camping. It was just about the last way you wanted to spend a weekend. Knee deep in coyote shit and covered from head under in mosquito bites. Chris broke the news to you rather unexpectedly— during a shoulder massage after work. Too tired from the day to really absorb the information, too grateful for the massage to even be upset.
Though you were still with your own reservations. Starting with Chris’ smart mouth as you packed the last of your luggage into the car.
“Come on, baby, it's just for two days. You packed like we’ll be out there for weeks.” He said, hauling in a cooler of waters and beers for the trip. He cushioned the cooler between the rather cramped tent he brought along. You always liked to stretch out while sleeping— safe to say it would be out of the question for the next two days, at least.
Your response was nothing of greater effort than an eye roll and scoff as you climbed into the passenger’s seat. Propping a small pillow between the seat and the crook of your neck, you closed your eyes, brows furrowing together without realization. You were ready to do nothing more than sleep through the traffic.
The backseat was nearly too full for its own good— fishing rods occasionally tapping at the windows, ice slamming into the side of the cooler, the sound of layers of tarp rubbing against each other. Sleep was impossible to find, though your eyes were still shut tight as a silent opposition.
Your own collection of handbags, duffels, and shoulder satchels at your feet wasnt adding to the exuberant amounts of comfort, either. Your knees were propped up to your chest, arms resting in your lap, stiff with tension. It would, as you soon realized, be a very long drive toward a listless destination.
Time was moving slower than death as you passed the time drifting between gently dozing off and complete lucidity. Your head bobbed against the head cushion and the passenger window as Chris drove over rocks and bumps. The hum of the radio transmission going in and out of range buzzed in the radio— some rock station Chris tuned into.
The stench of awkward silence had begun to stink Chris’ nose, even with the radio to keep him company. It wasnt long before he realized, during his extended time to debrief with his thoughts, that bringing you here was a massive oversight. He figured that after so many hours of overtime, dealing with the neverending traffic, and a city that never stop running at a sprint, it would be the last place that you would want to spend a free weekend.
And still, your once near hopes of a fancy city getaway was becoming ever more distant with every mile out of the city. Towering buildings morched into trees, branches talking into the clear sky overhead and the smell of plastic and burning rubber was replaced by pine and tree sap.
Chris’ head turned to you, head pressed into a pillow, gazing out of the passenger window, and said, “Are you sure you dont want to be awake for the drive? You're missing all the views, babe.”
“I’m sure I’ll become very well acquainted with it over the next two days.”
He sighed, hand resting atop the steering wheel and the other propped up on the arm rest. He opened his palm, inviting you to hold his hand, a soft smile tugging at his mouth. You took it, reluctantly at first, though solely through your own damn stubbornness.
“You're right,” You say, head turned toward the passenger window, “Its is beautiful out here.” Chris rubbed his calloused thumb across your knuckles.
He gave your hand an excited squeeze, “Oh, baby, just wait until we’re inside the woods. There's a creek that runs along a trail. Perfect spot for catching fish.”
“Going to catch us dinner, are you hotshot?” You teased, head pressed and nuzzling into his strong shoulders.
“Sure,” He shrugged, “Just as long as you do all the skinning.”
“You're a jackass.”
“Maybe,” He said with a devilish smile, “But you love me.”
Your cross your arms across your chest, gaze fixated dead ahead into the landscape brushing past you. You took in a deep breath through your teeth as you glance at your phone, checking for reception. The bars were steadily dropping, phasing between ‘SOS’ and a wink of service. You cursed under your breath, your head dipping in defeat. Soon, it would be nothing but you and Chris, amidst the trees and fish. How romantic.
In front of you was nothing but woods, split down the middle by a concrete road littered with cigarette butts and potholes. You hald expected a deer or, god forbid, a bear to jump out into the road.
“Next time,” You begin, head flicking toward Chris, “Promise me we’ll just go to a bar.”
Chris huscled out a dry laugh, playfully throwing his hand across his thigh, “And be sick with a hangover for the next day? Trust me babe, when you see this view, you’ll change your mind.”
“I better see god’s shiny ass when we get there, otherwise it’ll take a lot of convincing.”
Your boyfriend, patient as he may be, found your gripping on the unamusing side. “I’ll make a deal with you, babe. If your mind changes after seeing the spot I have picked out for us, we’ll go on more trips like this. If not, then our next little getaway will be whatever you choose.”
“I’m not going to change my mind.” You assured him.
“Then I very much look forward to taking care of my hungover girlfriend.” He said endearingly, bringing a strong hand to massage the back of your shoulder. Begrudgingly, you lean into his touch, planting a small kiss at the base of his forearm as you leaned to the side.
His hand fell down to your thigh, gripping your leg between his fingers. A hum came from his throat, satisfied at his now pacified girlfriend. And at the returned privilege of showing you how much he loved your body.
You decided then that he could be forgiven for bringing you to the worst possible getaway weekend. A shiver ran through you as you imagining the endless swarm of gnats and little blood-suckers that would take more of your blood than you would of any fish that Chris would catch.
Chris gave your thigh a squeeze as he said, “Babe, you brought another pair of pants, right?”
“Why? What’s wrong with these?”
“No, no— nothing’s wrong. They fit you absolutely perfect.” He scooped your hand up and planted a kiss along the back of your palm, “But there's poison ivy, snakes, bugs hiding in weeks, you know? I just want your gorgeous skin to be protected.”
“Fits me like a glove, you say.” You beamed proudly.
“You heard me, right, babe?”
“I tuned out right after you complimented me.”
“A-hah. Well you know how much I love your legs, your thighs, every inch of you.” His hand ran down the length of your leg, his grip tightening as he neared the apex of your thigh. “And as much as i’d love to show you off around the city, I want you to be mine all weekend.”
You move your hand down to the swell of his boner beginning to rise in his pants, “And I hope you know how much i love every… inch of you.” You run your fingers along the stretch of his length, already memorizing it.
The car jerked a little as Chris gained his composure. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, “Fuck, babe, i’m driving.” He spoke as if it were impossible to believe your brazen. He was caught off guard, of course, but it was far from stopping him from getting hard by a single stroke alone.
“Come on,” You plead, Chris’ eyes darting between you and the road, “We haven't seen another car for miles.” He nodded weakly, lips parted slightly, as he clenched his jaw while you continued to massage the pads of your fingers on his cock.
His lips quivered as you zipped down his fly and watched his expression change from a hazy arousal to an apprised lust as you undid the button on his denim. The outline of his thick cock pressed and rising against his jeans was enough to make your mouth water. Chris opened his mouth, a husky echo of words coming out.
“Eyes on the road, baby,” You gently coaxed him. Chris pressed his back into the driver’s seat and took up a position that made him appear most relaxed and nothing like the hot mess you were making of him. He forced his pelvis still, fighting against wanting to prop it higher for you to reach. He was only holding himself back by not just pulling over and having his way with you over his hood.
Your hand continued to press into his length through his jeans, feeling his woodie grow the more your fingers slid down anc back up again. Down— then back up again. Your touch was driving him wild, in tandem with his perverted thoughts of pounding his dick inside you. He thought of having you in any position his car would allow; though having your taut ass ripple against the trust of his hips was enough to bring him all the more closer to cumming for you.
A hollow shudder escaped his lips, beads of precum already forming at his tip. “You like that, baby,” You ask him, mouth breathing into his ear, “Like when my hands are on you like this? Ready for me to stroke that cock whenever I like. I bet you're so desperate for me already.”
You propped yourself closer to him, heat forming between your legs as you saw the shuddering mess you were leaving Chris in already. He nodded his head, “Fuck— yes, baby.” He flexed his fingers as he gripped the steering wheel, still white with tension, “Your hand,” He whined, “Fuck— I need your hand on my cock.”
You cocked your head to the side, expectantly. “P— Please.” Chris added.
You pushed down the waistband of his boxers, his dick springing free from the last layer of clothing between you and Chris’ masculinity. Your fingers traced his happy trail, leading down to his full erection already slick with precum. You wrapped your hand around the tip, teasing him with your almost-touches and sly grins.
Chris restrained himself from bucking his hips up into your hand, giving into his own selfish wants. A throaty whine came from him, desperate to be touched by you.
“Enough with the games, princess, please,” His desperation turned into agitation as he continued to hold out.
“I’ll make another deal with you,” You hummed your fingers dancing along the side of Chris’ sensitive cock, “Cum in your pants for me, and I’ll make sure you’ll be cumming all weekend long.”
“Holy fuck, baby.” He said, eyes glancing quickly between your hand along his member then quickly back to the road. He nodded, a thorough and desperate acceptance, “Yes, sweetheart, whatever you want. I’ll do it. We’ll do it.”
You slid your cupped hand down his shaft, a needy groan coming from his throat. He struggled to keep the car straight on the road, though both hands were still planted firmly on it. It was torture, he decided, not being able to run his hands along your perfect waist, down your back, and to your hips.
Though he was completely mesmerized by the feeling of your hand sliding perfectly down his length. A small piece of heaven entered him along with your touch, as if you were made for him, and he for you. Chris cursed as you stroked his length, balls of precum beading down the veins that line his perfect cock.
You leaned over, spitting on the head of his cock before continuing to pleasure him— twisting your wrist around his girth. You absorb the sight of your boyfriend: struggling to keep himself together enough to drive. His face was a melted mess of flushed cheeks and breathy grunts as he inhaled through his teeth, hissing at the pleasure you give him.
“S… Shit, baby, I…” He bayed. You cock your head to the side in response, jerking him off faster.
“Feels good, baby? Are you getting close for me already?” You adjusted pace had him squirming in the driver’s seat, eyes glued to the road, performing any attempt to help calm himself.
He managed to choke out a smoky ‘yes’ between pleading moans, hips instinctively bucking into your hand. You let him do the work, moving his hips into your cupped hand and letting him make himself feel good.
“Fuck— I… I’m close.” He panted, mouth open like a dog as his thighs shook with pleasure. Just as his whimpers became heavier, more weighted, you removed your hand. The empty space where your hand once embraced him only left Chris more frustrated. He tore his eyes away from the road to look at you with confusion.
“The fuck, babe? Why… why did you stop?” His voice was still laced with pleasure— breathy and gravely from the endless slew of groans.
“It looks like you're having trouble sitting still.”
“Haah— I didnt know that was part of the rules,” He slowed down his breathing, feeling the rush of an incoming release slowly retiring. He was practically pleasure-drunk from just you touching him. Though there was still only one though tracing in his mind: your tongue lapping over the head of his cock, swallowing every drop of his cum as his dick twitched with arousal.
You wrap your hand around his firm shoulders and before Chris could say anything, you had already maneuvered yourself onto his lap, legs straddling him in the seat. It was a tight fit, as you pressed your tits into your boyfriend’s chest with your arms around his shoulder and neck.
He moaned as your inner thighs pressed against his sensitive shaft. Chris pursed his lips as he let the wave of immediate pleasure wash over him. He couldn't help himself but to buck up into your cunt as you held yourself above him. Even with what little layers separate your soaking pussy and Chris’ desperate cock, every inch of his girth pressed into your folds.
His dick was so close to what it needed, and Chris was practically panting at his point, unaware that he was even making any noise at all, only desperate for your heat to wrap around him. You shifted your hips, rolling along Chris’ lap. He braced his arms around you, planting them on the wheel, his dick twitching as you moved against him.
The car continued to jostle along the empty road, getting rougher as Chris drove deeper out of the city. Each bump the car made along the concrete made another wave that drove through Chris, nearly knocking him back with each current. Try as he might to focus on the road in front of him, his mind always came stirring back to you making small bounces on his dick— to the warmth and pressure of you against his aching cock.
He moved up back into you, each upward thrust becoming sloppier. Heat builded in his chest, flooding his cheeks under a thin sheen of sweat. As Chris thrusted up into your pelvis, you groaned as his bulge brushed against your throbbing clit.
Minutes passed as the car continued to bump along the trail, each jolt sending shots of arousal through your arched spine. You were a sloppy mess above him, drool pooling in your mouth as your gaze remained fixated on Chris.
You ran your fingers endearingly through his short, brown hair. Your finger trailed over his cheekbone, down his sharp jaw until you took it firm in your grip. Chris, a trembling, whimpering mess below you, relaxed his jaw as it fell open, submissively.
“You fucking love my spit, dont you?” You demanded, grinding harder onto his pulsing cock, your spit landing in his mouth. He swallowed gratefully, desperate for any and all parts of you to worship. “On your cock as I jerk you off, in your mouth when you open it for me like a good boy,” You continued, Chris bringing a hand from the wheel to grip your ass.
“Are you getting close baby?” You ask him as he continued to rut his cock against your grinding pussy.
He replied with a desperate nod, his voice cracking as he moaned into your neck. “Go on, Chris,” You coaxed him, “Cum for me. Show me how much you love making me happy.”
Chris guided your hips down onto him, timing his thrusts as you grinded on him. He closed his eyes for a moment before snapping open in pleasure, his gut demanding him to cum. He was clueless to his sounds, his movements, letting his cock— and you— to take control of him like a puppet. Slack jawed and a sweaty, he was a whimpering mess underneath you as he struggled to drive steadily.
His breathing into your neck became heavier as his body tensed, arms flexing around you. And with a muffled groan, he came, cock twitching as he spilled pathetically in his pants.
“Aah— fuck, baby!” he cursed, a guttural moan escaping from this throat, “I’m gonna— Fuck, I… I’m coming,” His hips bucked upward, hitting your pelvis as you sat your weight completely on him. Relief washed over him as you grinded on his lap, riding out his climax.
You continued to roll your hips across him, your pace slowing to drag out the equally shared ecstasy. Leaning in to his ear, your hot breath flush against his ear as you whispered, “You're such a good boy for me, Chris.”
His breath hitched, body trembling between muscle spasms as your words self a jolt of pleasure straight through his cock, “I love it when you talk to me like that, baby. Fuck you drive me crazy.”
You smiled in satisfaction, eyes looking lazily down at your boyfriend as you rested your hips on his lap, tracing the outline of his aching member— still hard and throbbing from a massive load shot into his pants.
Though his relief was quickly trumped by overstimulation as the car continued down the road, your ass still bouncing in his lap, creating friction against his already sensitive dick. Chris bit his lips through a moan as you continued his desirable torture.
His mind was flooded with pleasure and pain— the two became unanimous. Chris was unable to tell the difference between the pleasure of your warm heat, and the frustration of constant friction. His cock hardened beneath you again as your pressure continued to weigh above him.
His body was an orgasmic mess of sensitivity and arousal, scrambling his brain with your need. And his overstimulation was quickly replaced by a desperate need for more.
“You like this, dont you, Chris?” You murmured, your voice dropping with teasing amusement, “Getting hard again so soon after cumming for me. Such a needy boy.” You cup his neck with one hand, bracing a hand around his shoulder with the other.
Chris could only nod fervently beneath you, his voice failing him as you continued to grind your hips torturously against him. Each push of your hips sent him deeper into a spiral of desperate arousal, accepting of being completely at your mercy.
His hips involuntarily thrusting upward as Chris groaned in pleasure, or at his own boldness. You moved your hand down toward your shorts, feeling up every inch of your curves. Your visual tease left Chris open-mouthed as you showed off for him. You unbuttoned the denim separating your wanting pussy from Chris’ length.
“Eyes on the road, baby,” You sounded, trailing your fingers down his chest, “Just relax and keep driving. Let me help you feel good.” He eased his muscles beneath you— a tension he hadnt realized he was holding onto.
You let your shorts drop to your ankles as you pulled your panties to the side, a small wet spot already formed on the fabric. Chris’ breath hitched as you planted your weight back on him, feeling your wet cunt through the fabric of his boxers.
You were too fucking good at this— too good at making him feel this turned on just by humping alone. He felt like a rabid animal, salivating and groaning for a drop of your arousal. And like an animal, he still wanted more from you. Chris wanted to bury his throbbing cock in you; he wanted it from the very start. Though you were adept in drawing out his pleasure, getting him so pussy-drunk that his head became light and he couldn't think straight if he tried.
“Aah—” Chris gasped, “Youre so fucking wet. I wish I could fuck you stupid in this car. Just bend you over the seat and— Fuck, baby.” He said through choppy breaths and drag-ons. Short, ragged gasps fell out of him as your hips send jolts of pleasure down his legs and through his overstimulated body.
He took a hand from the wheel and gripped your ass with it, bouncing you on his dick as he moaned into your neck. His breathing came in rapid, quick gasps. The way he had you propped up on his cock made the tip fuck into you even through his boxers.
Chris’ eyes beelined between the road and you. Swift eye movements compensated for his hazy vision, the growing swell in his chest like a battering ram. The fight against his own release became weaker and weaker as you rolled your hips against him.
“You feel how wet I am for you, baby,” You ask, heavy breathing masking your words, “Can't wait to fuck me later, can’t you? Fill my pussy with that perfect dick.” Your own arousal nearly made speaking plainly impossible. Your brain was too scrambled to speak in full sentences.
“Fuck, babe. I’m… I’m close,” Chris gasped, his leg muscles tightening with every strain of his shaft, every roll of your hips along his lap. “I’m gonna fuckin’ cum, baby, I—” He trailed off as his entire body tensed, eyes rolling back before snapping to the road again.
“Aah— fuck! I’m cumming,” He gasped, “I’m fucking cumming again,” Sounds of his pleasure surrounded the car, his entire body spasming as he continued to mindlessly pump his hips into you. You cupped your hands around his shoulders, damp with sweat, and bit your lip as you smiled at the mess you made of your boyfriend.
With one final roll of your hips, stroking your bare pussy along his lap, you had him shooting his load into his boxers again. Chris’ body convulsed as he grinded through the last of his orgasmic high. As the last waves of his orgasm subsided, you continued to move gently, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from his exhausted body.
Leaning in close, you plant a tender kiss on his cheek, ripe with sweat. You slip back into the passenger’s seat, rolling your shorts back onto your hips. Chris was still a gasping, shaky mess beside you as he did his best to steady the wheel. You were starting to look more forward to this trip, even considering suggesting that Chris should take you camping more often.
