Marvel Simp

The next morning, you and Leon made breakfast: Leon cooked, and you made orange juice and set the table. He was just finishing up the French toast when the doorbell rang. Looking at the time, you saw 9:45 am. Swallowing, you realized you had fifteen minutes left of the life you’ve known your whole life. As the idea swam through your mind, Leon kissed your temple, pulling you into his arms.

“You got this,” he whispered. 

Nodding, you inhaled him before going to answer the door. “Hey, CC. Right on time.” Even to your own ears, the welcome sounded forced. 

“Oh, breakfast,” Claire smiled. “Smells delicious.” 

“Yeah, French toast, bacon, eggs, sausage, and orange juice,” you say, closing the door. 

“No coffee?” Chris asked. 

“Sorry, no. Since I can’t have caffeine, we got rid of it,” you tell him. 

“That makes sense,” Chris nodded, walking towards the kitchen. 

Going off of his own stiff shoulders and tight muscles, Chris also felt the gravity of the morning as deeply as you. Leon and Claire controlled most of, if not all, the conversation, while you and Chris simply pushed food around your plates. 

Taking a small bite of toast, you feel Leon’s hand grip your knee. Smiling at him, you place your hand over his. Looking at the time, 10:01 am. “She should have called by now,” you mutter. 

“Baby, it’s barely ten, let’s give Abby five minutes before we start panicking,” Leon suggested, squeezing your knee again. 

The entire table quieted down, simply staring at the clock. Two more minutes go by, then Chris’s phone finally rings. “It’s Abby.”

“Put it on speaker,” Leon said, pulling your chair and you against him. 

“Hey, Abby, you’re on speaker,” Chris answered.

“Great, save me a phone call,” she said. “I have the results right here. Everyone ready?”

“As ever,” you whisper, knuckles turning white on Leon’s hand. 

“Well, Chris, when it comes to your potential thirty-one-year-old daughter, you are the father,” Abby said in an over-the-top Maury Povich voice, obviously trying to lighten the life-changing news she delivered. 

Your entire world ground to a halt. You had a father. You had a dad. Your dad was sitting across the table from you right now. What were you supposed to do now? Were you supposed to hug him? Is this where he teaches you how to change a tire and all those other things a father was supposed to teach a daughter? 

“Baby? Baby?” Leon’s voice came from far away. “Baby, I need you to breathe for me.”

Leon’s face appeared in your vision, his hands anchoring to the reality as your world slowly returned to spinning. “That’s it, baby, breathe with me, in” deep breath “and out” long breath out. Taking a moment to breathe with Leon allowed the world to return to focus and your body to stop trying to decide which door or window made for the best escape. 

“I’m okay now,” you whisper, realizing you now sit on Leon’s lap. 

Tucking your hair behind your ear, Leon gave you a few more precious minutes of just you and him before you face your birth father. “You got this,” he whispered, kissing you. 

“I got this,” you agree, inhaling his scent before looking to find Chris having a similar panic attack across the table from you. 

“So I guess this makes us family,” you whisper as if speaking too loudly could shatter what feeble relationship was building between you and the Redfields. 

“Officially,” Claire responds. “We’ve been family with Leon for years now.” 

“Guess this means I can call you sis,” Leon joked with Claire. 

“Or maybe you now have to ask Chris for his permission to marry his daughter,” she tried to joke. 

Leon ran his hand up your spine, keeping you grounded as he shook his head at Claire. “Not yet, sis.” 

“So you are my father,” you finally speak to Chris.

“Yes, I am,” he nodded. 

“What does this mean?” you ask.

“Whatever you want it to,” Chris answered. “While I would love to get to know you as my daughter and get to know my potential grandchild, I won’t force anything on you.”

“But what is it that you want, Chris?” Leon asked, knowing you needed solid answers.

“I want to be a part of your life,” he answered, catching the hint. “I want to be there for you and the baby.”

Licking your lips, you look at your lap before getting off of Leon and leaving the room. You needed a minute to breathe away from everyone, away from expectations, away from everything. 

“Baby,” Leon called.

Kicking off your slippers, not bothering with real shoes, you pull the front door open and start running down the street. The air is too solid in the house. You had to get somewhere else. The air will be easier to breathe somewhere else. 

“Baby!” Leon called, easily catching up with you. “Baby, you need to stop.” 

“No,” you shake your head, even as Leon pulls you to a stop. “It can’t go back in there. It’s too real. It’s too much. I don’t want to handle it. I can’t handle it right now.”

“Two things are happening: I’m coming with you, and you’re putting on your running shoes,” Leon said, holding up your running shoes. 

“You’re not going to make me face him right now?” you ask, in complete surprise. 

“No,” Leon shook his head. “I know finding out he’s your father is a lot. If you can’t face him right now, then we won’t.” 

“Really? You’ll go back in there and ask them to leave?” you ask, pointing at the house. 

“Yes,” Leon nodded, taking your face in his free hand. “I’ll tell them you need time to process this, and you’ll call him when you’re ready.”

“Chris will accept that? Claire will be okay with it?” you ask, gripping his waist.

“Yes,” he nodded again. “They’ll be fine with it.”

“Okay,” you nod, pressing yourself against him. “I’ll wait here.”

“Why don’t you wait in the backyard?” Leon suggested, tucking you under his chin and holding you tightly against him. You could feel your body shake against Leon’s strong, solid form. Tears welling up in your eyes, you screw them shut, letting your senses narrow to Leon. With him, nothing would happen to you. You knew with him, you were safe.

After you calmed down enough, you walked to the backyard while Leon told the Redfields you needed time to process everything. Legs pulled up to your chest, you watched some birds in a nearby tree until Leon stepped back out. 

“They’re gone,” he said, taking a seat and pulling you to his lap. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, laying your head on his shoulder. 

Neither of you said anything as you sat on the back porch, letting the songs of the birds fill the air around you. 

***

Later that day, you and Leon were watching TV when a beer commercial came on, reminding you how you wanted to remind Leon of how you two met. “We need to go to the bar tonight.”

Leon raised his eyebrows. “Do I need to remind you that you’re pregnant?”

“No,” you shake your head, laughing. “To remind you how we met.”

“Ah,” Leon nodded. “Are you sure you want to do that tonight? I know today’s been a lot.” 

“Yes,” you nodded, already standing. “I want to do it tonight, because of everything. Plus, it’s been about me for too long. You simply being you, I keep forgetting you don’t remember everything, and I hate that. So get us a hotel room somewhere fancy. We’re going to get a memory back tonight and create a new one.” 

“Baby, this can wait,” Leon started, but you shook your head. 

“No, stop thinking about me and start thinking about yourself,” you step up to him. “I am going to pick up at a bar tonight. Show you how I did it. Hear me, Kennedy?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he smirked, kissing you. 

A couple of hours later, Leon already sat at the bar waiting for you while you got ready in the room. You didn’t want him getting a sneak peek and ruining the surprise. Checking yourself out in the mirror, you grinned at how big and perky your boobs looked in your black see-through, except for some expertly placed pasties, corset top. It’s definitely tighter than you remember, and your boobs spilled out more, but nothing that Leon wouldn’t enjoy watching coming towards him. Spinning one more time, you winked at your sexy self, then made your way downstairs to the bar. 

Heels clicking on the floor, you glance around and find the usual lineup. Businessmen looking to drink off a bad day or celebrate a good day. The bar usuals on their fourth or fifth drink of the night. The tourists, looking to hook up while on a ‘business trip’. There in his usual corner, perfect view of the entire establishment, sat your man, dark eyes already scanning you up and down. Ignoring all the others and their lustful looks, you saunter over to Leon. 

“Mind if I have a seat?” you ask, already sliding onto the stool next to him. 

“Not at all,” he said, using that low, deep voice that sent tears dripping down your thighs. 

“Let me guess, scotch, Johnnie Walker?” you ask, catching him licking his lips while staring at your chest. 

“Correct,” he smiled, eyes meeting yours. 

“Another for the gentleman,” you motion to the bartender. “On me.” 

“A woman who knows her scotch? I’m surprised,” he said, eyes darkening with each passing moment. 

“I’m a woman of many surprises,” you smile, pushing your drink towards Leon. “Cheers.” 

As Leon took a sip, another man slid himself between the two of you. “Hello, beautiful. What are you doing with this old guy? You should come home with me. I can show you a good time, all night.”

Tilting your head, you look him up and down. Finding him severely lacking, you met his gaze, knowing your eyes looked as bored as you felt. “Yes, you might be able to stay erect all night, but this man can make a girl cum at least four times, using only his tongue. What’s your record?”  

“I’ll make you drip, sweetheart,” he said, reaching to touch you. 

“He already has,” you say, slapping his hand away. “Get lost.” 

“Bitch,” the man muttered.

Rolling your eyes, you find Leon glaring at the guy. “Oh, don’t let him ruin our night,” you say, using one finger to pull Leon’s attention back to you. “He’s some boy. I’m looking for a man tonight. Could you be him? Daddy?” you whisper right in his ear. 

“I have a room upstairs,” he said, hand running up your thigh. 

“After you,” you say, taking his offered hand. Sliding your breasts against Leon, you step off the stool. The growl in your ear makes your pussy drench your panties. “Such a gentleman.”

“Is that what you want? A gentleman?” he asked, he growled in your ear.

“No,” you whisper back. 

Putting a hundred on the bar, Leon leads you through the bar and towards the private elevator with only his hand on the small of your back. 

“Your own elevator?” you ask, peeking behind yourself at him. 

“I enjoy my privacy,” he said, biting your ear, pulling your body flush to his, his erection pressing against your ass. “Your body is driving me wild.”

Smirking, you ground your ass against Leon’s cock, wringing out a guttural moan from the man behind you. 

“Is that how my baby likes to play?” he asked, running his hand across your breasts down your body. Cupping your pussy, Leon lifts you and grinds his cock against your ass as you both wait for the elevator. “I’ll play.” 

Rolling your eyes back in sheer pleasure, you knew Leon could feel how wet you were, and fuck if that didn’t turn you on further. The ding of the elevator reminded you of the next few steps in your plan. Stepping out of his hold, you turn to see Leon’s pupils blown with lust. Grabbing him by the belt loops, you pull him into the elevator. As if on queue, Leon grabs you by the neck and crashes your lips to his. Holding onto his shoulders, you let Leon’s tongue invade your mouth as he hauls you up, so you can wrap your legs around his waist. Never breaking the kiss, Leon presses you against the elevator walls and grounds his hard cock against your dripping pussy. 

Whining into the kiss, you rut your pussy as hard as you can against Leon’s cock. Frustrated at the amount of clothes between you, you pull Leon’s button-up shirt out of his slacks. 

“Don’t worry, baby girl,” Leon growls as the elevator doors open. “Daddy’s going to make you feel so good.” 

“I need you, Daddy,” you moan, arching your back as he lays you down on a nearby table. “Fuck me, Daddy.” 

“In due time,” Leon replied, running his hand between your breasts. “Set up, baby girl.” 

Doing as instructed, you start to bite, kiss, and suck along Leon’s jaw, stopping to leave your mark on his neck. Mind already going foggy and filling with Leon, you still didn’t notice how easily he removes your corset and pasties in one go. 

Tilting his neck to give you better access, you press your now naked breasts against Leon’s clothed chest, and keep up sucking on his neck. Once satisfied with your work, you sit back to admire your handiwork. 

“Now everyone will know you’re mine,” you smirk up at Leon. 

Gripping you by the throat, Leon laid you back down on the table. Arching your back, giving him a better view of your breasts, you felt him run his fingertips down your throat, trace each breast, pinch your nipples, before sliding down to open the top of your jeans. “Lift.”

Using his thighs as leverage, you lift your hips so he can take off your jeans and panties. “Already so wet for me,” Leon growled, taking in the sight of your dripping pussy. “Bet I could slam my cock into you right now, and you’d scream in pleasure.” 

“Please,” you beg. “I need your cock. Please, Daddy. I need your cock.” 

“Not yet,” Leon smirked, kneeling between your legs. “I’m going to taste you first. Remember, baby, keep your eyes on me.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you whimper, as he licks your pussy folds. 

Licking his lips, Leon dove into your pussy, sucking on your clit. Spreading your legs out for Leon, you sit up for a better view of the man eating you out like a man starved, and you were his first meal. You could feel his tongue fucking you, as he pressed his nose into your clit repeatedly sending shocks of pleasure up your spine. Inserting two fingers, he curled them immediately pressing your G-spot, making you buck against his face. 

“There, Leon,” you moan, rutting our pussy into his face. “Right there.” 

Sucking on your clit, Leon kept stroking that sponge part deep inside you, making your eyes roll back, and thighs shake from the pleasure. “Cum on my face, baby,” Leon commanded, sending vibrations through your clit and up your spine, taking you closer to the edge. A couple of swipes from his fingers, and you screamed his name to the ceiling, your juices covering his face. You thought Leon would stand at this point, but no, he kept licking your juices before going back to tongue fucking you. 

“L-Leon?” you stutter, pleasure already building as he presses his nose into your clit. 

“You told that guy I can make you cum at least four times with only tongue,” he said, licking your folds, before his dark eyes met yours. “I’m going to make you cum at least five times before I’m done.” 

“But your … knees,” you gasp as he sucks on your clit. 

Shaking his head, Leon licked your clit twice. “I’m fine.”

“Th-the bed,” you point weakly, whining as Leon goes back to fucking you with his tongue. “Better.”

Gripping your thighs in response, Leon drank down your juices as he massaged your clit with his thumb. 

“Your back,” you try one more time, but your concerns fell on deaf ears. 

Pressing himself deeper into your pussy, Leon did not stop eating you out until you came five more times from only his tongue, nose, and fingers. 

By the time Leon kissed your thighs, signalling he was done, you were a moaning, dripping mess, completely drunk on his tongue. You weren’t so far gone as to miss Leon wincing and holding his back as he stood. Still shaking from all the orgasms, you sat up, making your pussy spasm again. 

Gripping Leon’s forearms, you shake your head. “You hurt yourself.”

“Worth it,” Leon grinned. “That fucker couldn’t do what I just did.” 

“But you hurt yourself,” you point out. “Was it really worth it?”

Inserting two fingers into you, making your hips jerk, Leon smirked, licking those fingers clean. “Oh yes. Seeing your body react to my touch like this. Worth all the pain in the world.” 

“Well then, mister,” you pant, trying to glare at him. “What do we do now?”

Leon pulled you into a furious kiss, your tongues diving into each other. “Now you ride me,” he growls.

“Then take off your pants, and sit on the couch,” you say, biting his lips. 

After removing his pants, Leon helped you off the table, catching you when it seemed your legs wouldn’t hold. “I’m good,” you nod, pushing him onto a nearby couch. “Now you are to sit there. Understand?”

“Yes, m’lady,” Leon nodded, spreading his legs for you. 

Kneeling between his legs, you nuzzle your face into Leon’s cock and balls before licking him from balls to tip. Taking his tip into your mouth, you hollow out your cheeks, precum coating your tongue. Eyes meeting Leon’s, you hold your tongue out to show off the cum, before swallowing. 

“Fuck,” he growled, but to his credit, did not take control just yet. 

Taking his cock back in your mouth, you start bobbing your head. Using one hand to massage his balls, and the other to stroke the half not in your mouth, you felt your pussy juices drip onto the carpet from the moans leaving Leon’s mouth. Taking him in deeper, you feel Leon take your hair into a makeshift ponytail. Looking up at him, you bob your head and squeeze his balls a few more times before flattening your tongue. Placing both hands on his thighs, you signal to Leon that he can fuck your mouth. 

“Baby,” he growled, thrusting his hips into your mouth, his cock going deeper into your throat. Looking up at the man you loved, you saw his head thrown back in utter pleasure, hair plastered to his forehead, and the veins on his neck popping out. Pressing his hips into the couch, you take control back and begin to fuck your own mouth on his cock. Precum filled your mouth, and rolled down the back of your throat, the longer you let Leon fuck your mouth.  

When his cock began to twitch in your throat, he pulled you off with a pop. “As much as cumming down your throat is amazing, I want you to bounce on my cock tonight.” 

Grinning, you straddle Leon’s hips and take his hard, thick cock in your hands. “You just love watching my boobs bounce.”

“You’re not wrong,” he smirked, licking his lips as you started to sink onto his cock. 

“Every time, you stretch me so wide,” you moan, taking him further into your pussy. “Ruined me for every other cock but yours.”

Growling at the idea of anyone else trying to touch you, Leon slams you completely on his cock in one move, making you scream his name in pleasure to the walls and dig your nails into his shoulders. “I own this pussy,” he growled, thrusting into your pussy with each word. Understand?”

Pleasure was building like a wildfire in your body; you could only nod with each thrust. 

“Say it,” Leon commanded, fingers digging so deep into your hips to leave bruises. “Who do you belong to?”

“You,” you answer, moaning as he makes your bounce on his cock. 

“Who gets to fuck this pussy?” he demanded. 

“Only you,” you whine, body completely submitting to Leon. 

“Good answer,” he growled, sucking on your neck as he thrusts into you and bounces you on his cock at the same brutal pace. 

Something about the angle and the amazing brutality had you cumming on Leon’s cock without warning. Squeezing his cock with your pussy, Leon hardly broke pace, fucking you through your orgasm. 

“Can my baby do that again?” he whispered in contrast to his rough actions. 

“Yes,” you whimper, nails digging into Leon’s shoulders seeking purchase, as your world narrowed to Leon and how amazing his cock felt. “More, a little more,” you whine, the pleasure reaching its fever pitch. Leon biting into your breast, and you came once more, your pussy juices covering Leon’s cock and thighs.

Pussying spasming around his cock, and your beautiful whines in his ears, Leon came with two more thrusts into your pussy, screaming your name to the ceiling. 

Pussy beyond stimulated, and keeping you locked on his cock, you came a third time from every cock twitch and squirt of cum. “Leon,” you moaned, voice going hoarse from the night's events. 

Wrapping his arms around you. “I remember,” he finally said after taking two minutes to simply breathe. 

“What do you remember?” you ask, head not moving from his shoulder, and pussy still quivering around his softening cock. 

“When we met,” he answered, running his fingertips along your spine. “I remember everything about that night. I also remember thinking this woman is going to make me rethink everything.”

Forcing yourself up to look him in the eye, you ask. “What do you mean?”

Smiling Leon pushed your sweat-plastered hair out of your face. “The next morning, when I saw you coming down the hotel stairs, realizing who you were, something inside me knew in that moment you would make me rethink everything I wanted in life.”

“And?” you ask, smiling.

“You make me happier than I have ever been,” he answered, kissing you. “You are my safe place, my happy place, my home.” 

The night before, you found some mommy blogs and groups and found some good recommendations for some books to read to know what to expect during pregnancy and for when the baby gets here. You had plans to go out and get them from the bookstore, but waking up with the worst case of morning sickness changed everything. Thankfully, Leon, knowing how much you wanted the books, went out and bought them. 

Now you sat on the couch, all but lying down, reading “What to Expect when You’re Expecting”, sipping ginger ale, and eating saltines in the vain hopes they might do something for the nausea. Fanning yourself with your bookmark, an old forgotten photograph, you didn’t hear Leon come up until he sat opposite, taking your feet in his lap. 

“How are you feeling, baby?” he asked, starting to massage your feet. 

“Slightly better than earlier,” you admit. “The book says eating small, frequent meals with high protein and carbs can help, along with staying hydrated.”

“Does it say specifically what foods?” Leon asked. 

“Bananas, rice, applesauce, toast, crackers, pretzels, and I should avoid greasy foods,” you answer, going back a few pages. 

“Let’s make a list, and I can run to the store,” Leon offered. 

“Alright,” you nod, setting your bookmark down. 

Tilting his head, Leon picked it up. “You’ve never shown this to me. Who’s this photo of?” 

“Oh, yeah. That’s my sperm donor,” you answer, putting your finger in your book. 

“This is him?” he asked, taking a closer look. “You look nothing like him.” 

“Yeah, at least that’s the only lead I have on who he could be,” you tell him. “My mother was throwing it away when I was thirteen. On a whim, I fished it out before she could.” 

“I thought you said he’d come around for money?” Leon asked.

“That’s what my mother told me, but if I’ve never met him, I don’t remember,” you say. “It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“If you want, we can try and find him,” Leon offered. 

“Nah,” you shake your head. You knew Leon meant well; he always does. Something about searching for the man who abandoned you as a child didn’t sit right with you. Why should you track him down when he couldn’t be bothered to find you for more than thirty years? 

“Alright,” Leon agreed, handing you back the photo. “Think you’re up for a late lunch? I think we have some of the food in the house.” 

“Yeah, at least I should try, right?” you asked, setting your book down. 

“Don’t get up,” Leon said, standing. “I’ll bring it to you.” 

“I can help,” you offer, making a move to stand up.

“I got it, you stay here.” Leon leaned down, kissing your cheek. 

“Okay,” you agree, getting the feeling Leon might become more of a mother hen the farther along in your pregnancy you get. Not that you minded. You loved it when he carried you to bed last night. 

A few more pages into your book, and a knock came from the door. “I got it,” you shouted. 

Setting your book down, you get up and open the door, revealing the Redfields, Chris, and Claire. “CC!” You grin, using the nickname they both disliked. “What are you doing here?”

“We heard Leon was in an accident, and no one called us. Is he okay?” Claire asked, already coming inside. 

Moving aside for Chris to follow, you say, “I thought Alena would have called you.” 

“No one called,” Chris said.

Leon came in from the kitchen. “Thought I heard some voices. What brings you all around?”

“Your accident,” Claire explained. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Leon confirmed. “Just some bumps and bruises, nothing to get worked up about.”

Rolling your eyes, you start folding up the blanket you were using. “Yeah, only a week-long coma, complete with a severe high-grade concussion. He’s still not cleared to return to work. But nothing to get worked up about,” you sarcastically say the last part.

“As you both can see, I’m fine,” he said, playfully glaring at you. “But I am sorry I didn’t call. A lot has happened, and I must have spaced it.” 

“Just glad you're okay, man,” Chris said, doing the guy hand grab back pound, you still don’t understand. 

“Me too,” Claire said, hugging him. 

“Would anyone like something to drink?” You offer, as Claire saw the pregnancy book on the coffee table. Looking at Leon, you felt yourself start to panic. You haven’t discussed telling anyone yet; you haven’t even told Alena. If she finds out, someone else knows before her, she’s going to be so pissed. 

“Leon? Are you pregnant?” Claire asked. 

Leon shook his head. “No, I am not pregnant.” To his credit, he didn’t lie. 

Rolling her eyes, Claire tried again. “I mean, are you two pregnant?”

Leon looked at you, giving you the green light to confirm or deny. Taking a deep breath, you ran out of the room to throw up. Face buried in the toilet, you felt Leon come up behind you to hold your hair back. 

“I got you, baby,” he said, rubbing your back. 

When you’re done, you sit back on the cold bathroom floor. “Guess that answers that question,” you groan.

Leon shrugged, handing you the mouthwash. “They are my closest friends. I think we should tell them.”

“Before we tell, Alena?” you ask. “Do you know how pissed she’s going to be at me?”

“Yeah,” he conceded. “But I don’t want to lie to Chris or Claire. They’re the closest thing I have to family, besides Alena.” 

“Alright,” you nod, seeing how important this was to Leon. “Let’s tell them.” 

Leon helped you to your feet, and you both made your way back to the living room. “Sorry about that,” you say. “Morning sickness was obviously named by a man. It’s never just in the morning.” 

“So you are pregnant?” Claire asked, grinning.

“Yeah,” you nodded, unable to hold back your own smile. “About eight weeks.”

“That’s amazing,” she grinned, pulling you in for a hug. 

“You’re going to be a father again? At your age?” Chris teased Leon. “You’re gonna take the kid to college in a walker.”

“Smart ass,” Leon laughed, hugging his best friend. 

“We should celebrate,” Claire said. “Both the baby and Leon not dying in a huge, horrible explosion.”

“You know how big the explosion was?” you ask, voice going up an octave, as Leon shook his head next to you.

“No,” she answered, backing up into the couch and dropping the book, causing the photograph to fall out. Frowning and looking at the photograph a little too long, Claire asked. “Where’d you get this old picture of Chris?” 

“That’s not, Chris,” you shake your head, taking it from her, and picking up the book. You did not feel like getting into this right now. 

“Who is it?” Chris asked, almost sharply. His features were drawn together, but somehow carefully neutral at the same time. His muscles were so tight, it felt as if he was gearing up to fight something. Not flee, nothing about him showed you he would flee from anything. 

“Um,” you look at Leon, having never seen the side of the man, who had you a little scared. 

“No one important,” Leon answered, putting his arm in front of you out of instinct. 

Claire pointed to the photograph. “That’s Chris, from his time in the military. How’d you get that?”

“I’m sorry, it’s who?” you ask, mouth falling open. Your mind was spinning a million different directions. If that was Chris in the picture, and the picture is your biological father, then that would mean… Starting to feel dizzy, you grab Leon’s arm. 

“Baby?” Leon asked, voice sounding far away.

“I think…” was all you got out before you passed out. 

***

You slowly came to the couch, Leon looking more than a little worried. “Baby?” he asked, softly stroking your arm. “Can you hear me?”

“Should I call 911?” Claire asked. 

“She’s coming around,” Leon said, letting out a relieved breath. 

“What happened?” you asked, moving to sit up. 

“You passed out,” Chris said. 

“Ah,” you nodded, seeing his stature had not calmed in the few minutes you were out. “Must have been a pregnancy thing. Not too far into my book.” 

“Maybe you should lie down,” Leon said, his face filled with worry. 

“I’m fine, I promise. Just an overreaction,” you say, smoothing out his worry lines. “I promise.”

“Maybe we should see a doctor?” Leon suggested.

“I’m fine,” you laugh at his overprotective side coming out. “If it happens again, we’ll call the doctor. Okay?”

“Okay,” he let out a long breath, kissing your temple. 

“So the picture?” Chris brought it up again.

“Really?” Leon drawled, standing to look at the man. “Just let it go.”

“Why does your girlfriend have an old picture of me?” Chris asked, arms folded tightly against his chest.

“Oh my god,” you roll your eyes, ire rising with every word about this stupid photograph. Getting to your feet, you half-yell, “It’s not you. It’s a picture of my stupid biological father, okay? Will you let it go now?”

“It’s what?” Claire asked.

“No, I’m not having this conversation.” You hold your hands up, and go to leave when Chris grabs your arm. Already on edge from even discussing the picture and filled with pregnancy hormones, you turn and slap Chris across the face. “No one touches me without my permission.”

The room went silent, allowing you to storm upstairs. Leaning back against the bed, you feel tears prick at your eyes. Why were you crying? Why were you stressing? You just slapped your boyfriend’s best friend. “God, Leon’s going to be so mad at me. Why did I have to do that?”  you ask, throwing your head back repeatedly against the mattress.

“Why did you do that?” Leon asked from the doorway.

“I don’t know,” you say. “Honestly, I don’t. Something about that photograph. I hate him. I’ve never met him, but I hate him. Hell, for all I know, he’s never met me, and he decided I wasn’t worth his time. I should just burn the photograph already.” 

Leon sat down and pulled you into his lap. Tucking you under his chin, he waited a minute before saying, “There’s something you need to know about the photograph, baby.”

“What?” you asked, inhaling Leon’s calming scent. 

“The man in the photograph could be Chris,” Leon said, stroking your back. 

“Then that would mean…” You pull back and look at Leon. “Chris could be my…”

𓆩 Your sweet welcome home kisses (even more saccharine when it came to goodbyes) did not help in this matter. In fact, it nearly drove him to madness before he broke down and decided on a dog. Yes, you heard me.

𓆩 A sweet German Shepherd rescue that he discovered, after weeks of research and careful planning.

𓆩 Leon treated it like another solo mission. Completely oblivious to you, as he headed downtown to sign all the necessary paperwork. A scribbled check to secure his promise of a good home. And he knew… you’d be the best thing for this sweet puppy, as much as he would be for you.

𓆩 So when Leon came through your apartment door. Followed by the patter of paws, you were more than curious to come find out what the noise was.

𓆩 All of it had been worth it when your eyes lit up. An escape of giggles soon to come when the canine had licked generously all over your cheeks and chin. The interaction was all Leon needed to know you had approved.

𓆩 He took the time to train your new best friend. Often joking that he’d have to “step up his game,” before the sweet, handsome pup stole you away from him.

𓆩 You didn’t question your lover and his motives. In fact, the loving companion may have been just what you needed.

𓆩 Anxiety had taken its toll and while you’d come to find peace, after years of trauma, there would always be a paranoia lingering beneath the surface. Something Leon observed and noticed.

𓆩 The familiar, temporary emptiness Leon left behind was now filled with warmth, affection, and a wet snout to nudge you. You’d given up on trying to protect your precious teddy that Leon bought you a few years back. A silly little anniversary gift of a stuffed bear dressed in a cop uniform.

𓆩 “Pretend it’s me when I’m gone.” He’d said, only to watch your pretty eyes roll over.

𓆩 Now your four legged friend had taken ownership of it. Often snuggling up to it himself.

𓆩 And so… You became the sweetest little family. A special sense of purpose coming with it, which is what naturally happened in protecting something.

𓆩 Leon’s perfect gift to you was now your treasure. Blood and soul. No, that wasn’t ridiculous to you, because you’d clawed and fought all this time to end up here. Safe and sound.

𓆩 Who knew Heaven was found between a weary, muscled DSO Agent and a large, needy German Shepherd? (Who could blame ‘em? They loved their favorite girl.)

𓆩 You were outnumbered now, sure, but you liked to tease Leon. “I’ve got a second guard dog.” You smiled over your shoulder, hands hidden beneath soapy water in the kitchen sink. Leon liked the sound of that, a smirk tugging at his lips.

𓆩 There rarely had been dull moments for you and Leon, and yet… Your furry friend had kept you on your toes in the best way. Maybe Leon didn’t think so.

𓆩 Not when he’d finally buried himself between your plush thighs, groaning into your sweet cunt. Only to be rudely interrupted by a whining puppy at the door.

𓆩 “Poor baby…” You’d pout playfully. Leon not so much in agreement. “What about me?” He’d counter. You wouldn’t have time to answer before you’d find yourself flat on your stomach, his knees spreading you open, to pound into you mercilessly. “Spoiled pup gets you allll day. You’re mine now.” He grunted close to your ear.

𓆩 Leon S. Kennedy jealous of a dog? Yes. And he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

𓆩 He couldn’t complain too much about his right hand. Not after he tied a ring to his collar and sent him running past the threshold of your new home. One of the final boxes being set down, as he turned back to greet him.

𓆩 You scratched behind his ears, before the dazzling thing caught your eye against his dark fur. You crouched to his level. He panted, watching you.

𓆩 A smile broke across your face, managing to retrieve the delicate ring. Just in time for a sweaty Leon to emerge. A golden swath sunlight filtering into the room and across the floorboards. It looked like a scene out of a movie. So domestic, so wholesome.

𓆩 Leon did the honors on one knee and all. You were nothing short of tears and babbling yes’s before he had scooped you up and kissed you. A deep sense of yearning evident in the tenderness of his lips, the strength of his hands against your frame.

𓆩 His little helper barked at you both, clearly eager for his attention too. He did help after all.

𓆩 A last minute decision was made, as you ushered Leon to the couch. Your precious German Shepherd sat between you both.

𓆩 Leon had held up your phone. Long arms capable of capturing the perfect shot. You made a point to show off your sparkly new promise. Leaning into your sweet puppy, you cheesed hard, while Leon squeezed a strong arm around you both.

𓆩 That would be definitely going on the mantle.

𓆩 “Maybe he needs a sibling.” Leon mentioned later that night. After exhaustion had overtaken you both from unpacking. Tired eyes finding his profile. “What kind?…” You asked.

𓆩 The blonde quickly rolled over, trapping you beneath him. As if he had renewed energy. Slotted with easy between your legs, you looked up at his handsome, aging features. “The kind that looks like you and me.”

𓆩 And well… you think you could get used to this.

— Bonus: Leon spends weeks finding the perfect bow tie for your pup. And maaaaybe… he walks you down the aisle. (Because you have trauma from your father, who you escaped, after learning about the monster he was—a scientist for Umbrella—and somewhere in here Leon killed him for ever daring to lay a hand on you. Thank you. Goodnight.)

Leon grabs his jacket and steps out into the cool evening air.

Across the street, the city buzzes with life. Cars move through wet roads reflecting the glow of streetlights. People walk along sidewalks carrying umbrellas and groceries.

Normal.

Everything feels normal. And it stays that way.

He meets you two weeks later.

Not during some dramatic moment.

Not during a crisis.

Just on an ordinary morning.

You work at a small coffee shop near the station. The kind with warm lights and mismatched chairs that always smell faintly like cinnamon.

Leon starts coming in before his shifts.

At first, it is just for the coffee.

Then it becomes something else.

“Large black coffee?” you ask one morning.

Leon blinks at you from the counter.

“You remember?”

“You come in every day.”

“That doesn’t mean you remember.”

You slide the cup across the counter.

“Good memory.”

He smiles a little.

“Impressive.”

You shrug.

“Occupational hazard.”

That becomes the start of everything.

Months pass.

Leon keeps finding reasons to stop by.

Sometimes before work. Sometimes after.

Eventually, the conversations last longer than the coffee.

You talk about small things. Movies. The city. Your terrible attempt at learning guitar.

Leon tells you stories about police training and how he almost failed the driving course because he clipped a cone.

“You hit a cone?” you laugh.

“It came out of nowhere.”

“You ran over a stationary object.”

“It was a tactical misunderstanding.”

You laugh so hard you nearly spill the coffee you are making.

Leon decides in that moment that he likes the sound of it more than anything else in the room.

Your first date is awkward.

Leon tries to act confident.

He is not as smooth as he hopes.

But you do not seem to mind.

Dinner turns into a long walk through quiet streets.

That walk turns into another date.

Then another.

Eventually, Leon stops going home at night.

Not because he moves in.

Because he never wants to leave your place.

His first apartment is tiny.

Ridiculously tiny.

The couch has a mysterious stain he insists was there before he moved in.

The kitchen barely fits two people.

But somehow the two of you make it work.

One night, you attempt to cook dinner together.

The smoke alarm goes off.

“Leon.”

“I’m fixing it.”

“You burned pasta.”

“I didn’t burn it.”

“It’s black.”

“It’s… toasted.”

You laugh so hard you end up sitting on the kitchen floor while Leon opens every window in the apartment.

Later that night, you dance together barefoot in the living room while the room still smells faintly like burnt garlic.

Years pass the way they always do.

Quietly. Gradually.

One evening, Leon comes home from work looking nervous.

You are sitting on the couch reading when he walks in.

He stands there for a moment.

Then says very suddenly,

“Hey.”

You lower the book.

“Hi.”

Leon rubs the back of his neck.

“So… I had a speech.”

You blink.

“A speech?”

“Yeah.”

He pauses.

Then sighs.

“I forgot it.”

You stare at him.

Leon pulls a small box from his jacket pocket.

“Do you wanna marry me?”

You burst out laughing. Not because it is funny.

Because it is so completely Leon.

You nod immediately.

“Yes.”

The house comes a few years later.

Small.

Old.

The fence leans slightly to one side.

Leon spends three weekends fixing it.

You sit on the porch steps watching him struggle with a hammer.

“You know there are professionals for this,” you say.

“I got it.”

The hammer slips.

You try not to laugh.

“You definitely got it.”

Leon glares at the fence as if it had personally offended him.

Eventually, it stands straight.

Mostly.

Children change everything.

Suddenly, the house feels alive in ways it never did before.

Toys on the floor.

Sticky fingerprints on the refrigerator.

Morning chaos.

Leon teaching a small set of wobbly legs how to ride a bike in the driveway.

“Don’t let go!” your son yells.

“I’m not letting go,” Leon promises.

He absolutely lets go.

You watch from the porch as your child pedals forward for the first time.

Leon raises both arms like he just won a championship.

Years blur into warm memories.

School mornings.

Family dinners.

Movie nights where everyone falls asleep halfway through.

Leon sometimes sits quietly in the living room late at night after everyone goes to bed.

Just looking around the house.

The photographs on the wall.

The quiet breathing of a life he built.

One evening, the two of you sit together on the porch.

Your children play in the grass nearby.

Leon rests his arm around your shoulders.

“You know, I used to think I’d never get this.”

“This?”

He gestures vaguely at the house.

The yard.

The laughter.

You lean into him.

“Well,” you say softly, “you did.”

Leon turns his head to look at you.

But something feels strange.

The air changes.

Your voice fades slightly.

The sunset blurs.

The sound of the children laughing becomes distant.

Leon frowns.

“Hey…”

He reaches for you.

But the world is slipping away.

The house dissolves.

The yard disappears.

The porch vanishes.

And suddenly everything is dark.

Leon wakes with a sharp breath.

The room is quiet.

No sunset.

No porch.

No big house.

Just the familiar ceiling of his apartment.

His chest rises slowly as he tries to steady his breathing.

The dream lingers painfully in his mind.

The life he lived there.

The years.

The children.

The quiet happiness.

Leon stares into the darkness for a moment.

Then he feels something move against his chest.

You shift slightly in your sleep, curled comfortably against him.

Your arm draped across his stomach.

Your hair tangled against his shoulder.

Leon blinks.

The apartment is smaller than the house in the dream.

Much smaller.

There is no white fence.

No big yard.

No family photographs lining the walls.

And the laughter of multiple children is absent.

Just the quiet sound of one, a small door down the hallway.

Your son is sleeping peacefully in that room.

Leon looks down at you.

At the soft rise and fall of your breathing.

At the warmth of your body pressed against his.

Slowly, the ache in his chest fades.

Because something becomes very clear.

The dream was beautiful.

Perfect.

But it was not real.

This is real.

You.

Your son.

The life the three of you built together.

Leon pulls you slightly closer, careful not to wake you.

He presses a soft kiss into your hair.

Your brow wrinkles faintly in your sleep before relaxing again.

Leon smiles quietly in the darkness.

No picket fence.

No big house.

But you are here.

And that is more than enough.

~Masterlist~

A couple of days later, Leon’s burns have healed enough that they no longer need dressings, his stitches are scheduled for removal in a few days, and he’s slowly adding physical activity to his routine. At first, he started taking short jogs around the neighborhood, no more than 15 minutes. You and Alena, trying not to stress too much, stood at the end of the driveway watching him, reminding each other that this was doctor-recommended. When he came back, no worse for wear, you both could resume breathing normally. 

“Girls, this isn’t the first concussion I’ve had,” Leon reminded both of you. “You can stop worrying so much.”

You blink at him. “Nothing about that sentence makes me worry less.”

Leon laughed, kissing your forehead. “I love you both, but you need to relax a bit. I’m fine.” 

“Relax, he says,” Alena drawled.

“Nothing he hasn’t been through already,” you reply sarcastically. 

“What are we worrying about?” you both say at the same time, earning an eye roll from Leon.

Two days later, it became clear that Leon was well on the road to physical recovery, allowing Alena to return home without worry, with promises to keep her updated on his progress. 

Today, you lie on the gyno’s exam table, Leon looking at various pictures of babies on a corkboard, both waiting for the doctor to confirm your pregnancy and let you see your baby for the first time. 

“This is the first time I’ve been here,” Leon said, going to stand beside you. 

“Weren’t you here for Alena?” you asked. 

Leon shook his head. “Heather didn’t want me much involved at the time.”

You could see that not being there for every step of that pregnancy still bothered him, even thirty-plus years later. Taking his hand, you kiss it softly. “Well, I want and need you here every step of the way. There’s no way I’m doing this all alone.”

Leon smiled, kissing you softly. “There is no other place I’d rather be.” 

“Good answer,” you say, keeping hold of his hand, nerves starting to itch under your skin. “I’ve never thought I’d ever be here for this. Yearly check-ups, sure, but for a pregnancy, nope, never.”

 Leon kissed the back of your hand. “We got this, baby. You and me.”

“We’re in this together,” you let out a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself. 

“All the way,” he agreed, brushing your hair from your face. 

Taking comfort in Leon’s strong presence, you take a few deep breaths to relax as the doctor walks in. 

“I hear we’re going to have a baby in here?” she said, all smiles. Seeing both of you on edge, she let out a soft laugh. “It’s perfectly normal to be nervous. Is this your first one?”

“My first, his second,” you answer, still taking calming breaths.

“But first one in about thirty so years,” Leon added, rubbing your hand between both of his. 

“Well then, let’s get to seeing this baby, huh?” she smiled, setting up her machine.

 Heart in your throat and lungs in your feet, you clutched Leon’s hand as she searched for the baby. In the long seconds between starting the test and her finding your little bean, a million thoughts raced through your mind. What if something’s wrong with the baby? What if you’re not pregnant? What if you have cancer? You were reading that sometimes a positive pregnancy result could indicate cancer. What if you see the baby and freak out? What if Leon sees the baby and freaks out? That’s when you heard it, their little heartbeat. 

“And right there is your baby,” she whispered, pointing to her screen. “About eight weeks along.”

All those thoughts immediately went the way of the wind, as that little heartbeat filled the room. “Leon,” you whisper, eyes locked on the little bean the doctor found. “Do you hear that?”

“That’s our baby,” he whispered in awe, taking a seat on a nearby stool. “We made that.”

“We did,” you smile, as he kissed your temple. 

“I’ll give you two a minute,” the doctor whispered, quietly leaving the room. 

Leon suddenly let go of your hand, pressing it to his temple. 

“Baby? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” you asked, suddenly nervous for a whole new reason. 

Leon just blinked a few times, eyes darting back and forth, before looking back at you. “I remember,” he whispered.

“What do you remember?” you ask. 

“I remember finding out you're pregnant. We were home the night before I left, and I noticed your boobs got bigger. I went and got a test. It came back positive. I was so excited about the idea of starting a family with you. I remember,” he looked at you, grinning. “I remember.” 

“You do?” You felt tears prick your eyes. Up until this point, he had only recalled little things: your love of photography, your favorite foods, and your fear of spiders. This was the first big memory he got back. 

“I do,” he grinned, kissing you softly. “Something about this little bean must have triggered that memory.”

“Maybe we can do other things similar to what we did. It might bring back more memories,” you suggest. 

“It’s worth a shot,” he agreed. “But for right now, let’s enjoy our little bean here.”

Turning back to the monitor, you and Leon soak in the sound and image of your baby. Never in your life have you felt such intense love for anyone so quickly. The little heartbeat brought so many happy tears to your eyes that they blurred your vision. “I already love them so much.”

Leon kissed your temple, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “That love is only going to grow too.” 

Turning to Leon, you kissed him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, mama,” he smiled.

“That’s right, I’m going to be a mom,” you say in complete awe, feeling more happy tears fall down your cheeks. “And you’re going to be a dad again.”

“Thank you for that,” he whispered.

“Anytime,” you joke, laughing through your tears. 

You left the appointment with a digital and physical copy of the ultrasound, along with a recording of your baby’s heartbeat. You also have a folder filled with papers explaining pregnancy to you, suggested activities and ones to avoid, foods that are good for the baby, and foods that are bad for the baby, with a whole heap of information in between. Deciding to study it all later, you're basically skipping to the car. 

“Should we get anything for the baby? Or do you think it’s too soon? Like, maybe a baby book? I can put their ultrasound in it,” you suggest with a grin. 

“Whatever you want, baby,” Leon said, opening the car door for you. 

“Do you like the idea, though?” you ask, wondering if Leon was simply entertaining you. 

“I love the idea,” he smiled. “There’s a baby store I drive by on the way to work. Let’s go check it out.”

“Okay,” you grin, bouncing in your seat. 

Getting into the driver’s seat, Leon started the car and took your hand. “You know I’ve been thinking. Since we’re starting a family, why don’t we think about getting a bigger place? Maybe one with four to five rooms, kids can have their own rooms, I can keep my office, and maybe you can have a photography studio or something. What do you think?” 

“I think we’d have to check with the bank about how much we can afford, but I like the idea. I have to admit it’d be nice to have a photography studio, and if we get one with five rooms, we can maybe have two kids?” you ask, voice going up an octave. 

“Baby, I’m not saying no, but how about we wait until this little bean is here, then we can talk about another one. Okay?” Leon suggested. 

“Yeah, that makes sense. But you're not completely closed off to the idea of having two kids?” you ask.

“Not completely closed off,” Leon clarified. “Just wanting to wait for this one to be a little older than eight weeks of gestation.”

“That’s fair,” you agree. “So?...”

“Yes?” Leon asked when you didn’t continue.

“So, we’re having a baby, talking about buying a house; is there a ring in that plan of yours somewhere?” you ask. Before the accident, Leon mentioned a proposal, but you weren’t sure how much he actually remembered. 

“Maybe,” Leon smiled at you. “You’ll have to wait and see.” 

“Okay,” you grin, bouncing in your seat. “After the baby place, let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.” 

“As you wish, m’lady,” Leon said, parallel parking in front of the store. 

The baby store went okay. You had no idea how much stuff a baby actually needed. You knew they needed diapers, clothes, a crib, and a car seat, but, lord, there are a million other little things a baby needs. By the time you picked out a baby book and looked around, your head was spinning. 

“Did you know how many things a baby needs?” you ask Leon once you’re back in the car. “There were a million different types of bottles. Which one do we get? Which one is the best? What if we get the wrong one and hurt the baby? What about pacifiers?” 

“Baby, baby,” Leon said, kissing your hand and keeping an eye on the road. “We have plenty of time to figure all of that out. Let’s not have a panic attack right now. Plus, there are loads of baby books we can read to learn about all that stuff.”

“Okay, but which ones of those are the best?” you ask.

“Let’s find some mom groups on Facebook or something, and ask them,” Leon suggested. “No one knows more about what a newborn needs better than a mom.” 

“Good idea, why didn’t I think of that?” you ask, trying to remember how to breathe. 

Leon chuckled and kissed your hand again. “Because my love, you are panicking. Let’s go have some lunch, then we can spend the rest of the afternoon looking at mommy blogs, mommy chatrooms, and all that stuff. Okay?” 

“Okay,” you lean over, kissing his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, baby,” Leon smiled, pulling into your favorite cafe. 

You and Leon ordered your food and were sitting at a booth talking about everything and nothing, when you had to use the bathroom. Hurrying off, you didn’t see another man around the corner holding his drink without a lid. Running right into him, causing him to spill the entire drink all over his white shirt, you felt mortified. 

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” you say, going to grab some napkins. 

“Watch where you’re going,” the man muttered, pushing you roughly. 

Caught off guard, you tripped over your own feet, falling face-first on the cafe floor. Catching yourself on your hands, you could only blink a few times at a complete loss of what just happened. Turning over, you place a hand over your stomach, grateful you caught yourself in time.

Leon did not need a moment to catch up. He suddenly stood in front of the man, who appeared a few years younger than him. “Did you just push my wife?” he demanded, getting into the guy's personal space.

“She needs to watch where she’s going,” he replied, standing his ground. 

“Apologize,” Leon demanded. 

“No,” the man shook his head. 

“Leon, he’s not worth it,” you say, getting to your feet. From the eerily calm look on Leon’s face, you knew if you didn’t step in, the guy might lose some teeth; not that you’d blame Leon, but the cops might. 

“Yeah, Leon,” the guy mocked, attempting to shove Leon. “Move aside.”

Not moving an inch, Leon shoved the guy as hard as he had shoved you, causing him to fall. That’s when you get in front of Leon, placing your hands on his chest. “Okay, we’re done.”

“What the fuck, man?” the guy groused, getting back to his feet. 

Leon took a step forward, but you walked him back, making sure to keep yourself between Leon and the other guy. “No, we’re not doing that.” 

“You let your woman fight your battles for you, old man?” the guy taunted. 

“No, he doesn’t,” you reply before Leon can. “I’m honestly protecting you. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll walk away.”

“You’re the one who spilled my drink,” he half-yelled, getting the attention of the staff. 

“Alright, sir, you need to leave,” the manager told the guy, making the scene. 

“I need to leave?” he demanded. “That son of bitch pushed me.”

“After you pushed my wife,” Leon added darkly. 

Oh, that voice. You love that voice. It did wonderful things for you, but right now it’s not a good thing. 

“He’s right, you need to leave, or I’ll call the cops,” the manager agreed, pointing towards the door. “Leave now.”

Huffing and puffing, the guy left. The manager apologized, gave you free drinks, and coupons for the trouble. 

“Are you okay, baby?” Leon asked, once all the hoopla was over. 

“I’m fine,” you nodded, stroking his arms. “Are you okay?”

“I wanted to punch that guy when I saw him push you,” he answered.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” you smiled, getting on your tiptoes to kiss him. “That would have gotten the cops involved and ruined the rest of our day.” 

Leon let out a long breath and grabbed your hips. “He deserved it.”

“I know,” you use your hand to smooth out his scowl. “But you’re better than that.”

“Thank you for stopping me,” Leon said, squeezing your hips. “I was about to punch that guy out.”

“I know.” You smiled up at him. “By the way, you called me your wife. Twice.”

“Did I?” Leon asked, tilting his head. “I didn’t realize.”

You pull him down for another kiss. “I liked it. You should think about making it official.” 

The meeting with the photographer went great. You and Alena were able to confirm all the types of pictures you wanted from the wedding, the packages you needed, and the correct pricing. You even took another look at the portfolio work to confirm the quality. Everything confirmed for Friday and Saturday, you two decided to have lunch just the two of you. 

It felt nice to sit in a crowded cafe laughing with Alena. You told old and new jokes, she stressed about the wedding, and together you both had a great time. Before you knew it, it was two in the afternoon, and she needed to get back to the hotel for some last-minute Grandma birthday party details. 

Making your way up the suite you and Leon shared, you notice he’s still not back from golfing. Deciding to have some fun, you slide off your shoes in the entryway and prance into the bedroom. Taking out your set of lacey black bra and panties, you touch up your hair and makeup, and put them on. Doing a spin in the mirror, pleased with how it made everything look utterly delectable, you took out your camera and tripod. 

Discovering where the light will cut across your body the best, you set up the camera so it captures your entire body from above, and set the timer. Lying in the bed, arching your chest, and hands above your head, you take a few pictures. Checking quality, taking a few more, and finally finding one you loved, you email it to yourself. 

Bouncing in excitement, you text it to Leon with the caption. “When are you coming home, daddy?”

“Right now, sexy. Be ready when I get there.” Leon quickly texted. 

“Yes, daddy,” you reply, giddy in excitement. 

Putting your camera away, you lie on the table that you and Leon used your first night together. Waiting for the sounds of the elevator, you lift your ass in the air and position your arms so they frame your breasts perfectly. 

The elevator doors opened, giving Leon the perfect view of you and your body. “I missed you, daddy.” 

“Fuck, baby,” Leon took off his shirt, tossing it to the side. “Why don’t you show daddy how much you missed me?”

Licking your lips, you slide off the table, falling to your knees. “Need any help?”

Growling, Leon stepped close, his crotch inches from your face. Cupping your chin, Leon looked down at you, pupils blown wide. “Take it out.” 

“Yes, sir,” you whispered. Never taking your eyes off him, you undo his jeans and slide them down enough for his cock to pop out. Licking from the balls to the tip, you finally break eye contact, sucking on the tip. 

“Fuck,” Leon moaned, hand gripping your hair, not guiding, anchoring himself. 

Hallowing your cheeks earns you drops of pre-cum, which you swallow down before licking the length of him again. Taking him back into your mouth, you use a hand to grip the length of him, not in your mouth, yet. Already knowing where he likes pressure applied, you gently bit down before licking the same area, turning the man above you into a moaning mess. Humming around his cock, you start bobbing your head, occasionally pausing to suck, lick, and nibble on the cock in your mouth. You knew Leon was starting to lose control when he held your head in his hands and started fucking your mouth. 

“That’s it, baby, take my cock,” Leon moaned, head thrown back in pleasure. 

Flattening your tongue, you let Leon’s cock down your throat. Pussy dripping just from sucking off the man, you reached between your legs and started massaging your own clit, causing you to moan around his cock. 

Leon suddenly pulled you off with a pop, laying you down on the nearby table, crawling on top of you, and kissing you deeply. Using your feet to shove his pants down his legs, Leon pauses only long enough to kick them free before returning to devour you in a soul-claiming kiss. Reaching behind you, Leon, used one hand to unclasp your bra, tossing it to the side. 

“You’re a little minx. You know that, right?” Leon stated, against your skin. 

“You love it,” you moaned, as he sucked on a nipple. 

“Still sore?” Leon asked, pinching your nipples. 

“No,” you shake your head, arching into his touch.  

“Perfect,” Leon growled, diving back in to suck on your breasts. “Wonder how long until you come just from me sucking on your tits? Should we find out?” 

“Please,” you breathe out, hands gripping the sides of the table. 

Moving between each breast, Leon sucked, bit, and nibbled until you were a moaning mess under him. Using one hand to keep your back arched into his mouth, Leon licked the underside of your boob, tracing its outline with his tongue before sucking on the nipple again. 

“Daddy,” you moaned, gripping onto his hair. “Close.”

Repeating the action on your other breast, Leon smirked against your skin. “I’m going to mark you here,” he said, biting the underside of your breast. “Whenever you see it, you’ll know who you belong to.”

“Please,” you breathe out, pleasure coursing through your chest down to your pussy. 

Sucking on a spot below your nipple, Leon pinched your other nipple, earning more moans and whines. After biting and sucking for a minute, Leon looked at his work and smiled. “One day, I’m going to mark you for everyone to see. When they ask about it, you’ll have to tell them you're mine.”

God that sent shocks of pleasure straight to your pussy, sending you over the edge, and screaming Leon’s name to the ceiling. 

Pussy still shuddering, body still shaking, Leon lifted you off the table, draped you over the back of the couch, and lifted your ass higher. “I’m going to fuck you now,” Leon growled, already lining his cock up to your dripping pussy. 

“God, yes,” you moan, trying to rock your hips onto his cock, but your position keeps you in place, causing you to whine. 

“So eager,” Leon growled, running his cock along your pussy folds, coating it in your juices. “Beg for it.”

“Please, Daddy,” You begged. “Give me your cock. Please, I need your cock in my wet pussy.”

Gripping your hair into a makeshift ponytail, Leon arched your back. “Good girl,” he said, pushing his cock into your pussy. “Fuck, baby. How are you always so tight for me? It’s like a vice.”

“For you,” you moaned, submitting completely to Leon. “Only for you.”

“Better be only for me,” Leon growled, pushing more of his cock into your pussy. “I don’t like to share my things.”

“Only you,” you repeat, as his cock spreads your folds. “I belong only to you.” 

“Yes, you do,” he said, bottoming out. “God, baby, it’s like your pussy is trying to suck me dry. Doesn’t want to let go.” 

“Fuck me, please,” you begged. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” Leon agreed. Keeping your back arched, and one hand gripping your ass, he starts to pull out before slamming back into you. Setting a fast pace, Leon fucked you against the couch, the sounds of your bodies slamming against each other, your whines and moans, and Leon’s quick breaths filled the suite. As if he could see that your body was done with being draped on the couch, he pulled out, lifted you, and set you back on the table, ass half hanging off. Wrapping your legs around his waist for leverage, Leon slammed back into you, his hips moving faster than before. 

“You’re gonna cum again, baby. Right on my cock,” Leon commanded, his hands on your ass, holding you up. 

“Yes,” you moaned, arching your back, hips meeting his as best as possible. 

“Touch yourself,” Leon growled. “I don’t want to drop you.” 

Using one hand, you begin to stroke your own clit, causing your pussy to rapidly clench around Leon’s cock. “Ah, Daddy. You fill me so good. So full. I’m close. So close.” 

“Cum when you want, baby. Cum on daddy’s cock,” Leon growled, slapping your ass, wringing a whine from you. 

It took two more thrusts of Leon’s cock over your G-spot before you came hard around him, pussy latching onto Leon’s cock, fluttering around it, taking you outside the galaxy. 

“Fuck,” Leon cursed, thrusting two more times before cumming deep in your pussy. 

Gently pushing you further onto the table, Leon stayed inside you for a few more glorious seconds. 

“I have to say I loved the way you told me you were home,” Leon said, between deep breaths. 

“Thought you might,” you smiled up at him, moaning when he pulled his softening cock out of your pussy. 

“Come on,” Leon said, lifting you into his arms. 

“Bath time?” you asked, kicking your feet excitedly. “I do love that the tub is big enough for two.”

Leon kissed your cheek. “I love the wet naked woman in it.” 

Leaning back against Leon, your head on his shoulder, you relish the feeling of being with this man. Remembering you had a few more days with him, just like this, makes you smile wider. However, the conversation with Alena popped into your head; ‘If you really care for him, tell him. Be honest with yourself and him.’ 

“Leon?” you asked, not sure if now’s the best time, but you might chicken out if you didn’t do it now. 

“What’s up, baby?” Leon asked, wrapping his arms around you, as if sensing your change in mood. 

“I know we talked about this being more than a fling, but that was in a restaurant bathroom, and we didn’t have a lot of time. So I wanted to ask, what do you want out of this? Out of us? Yow when this week is over,” you asked, turning to face him in the tub. 

Leon looked around. “And we’re having this conversation in the tub? Now?”

You instantly wanted to pull the words back into your mouth. Remembering your promise to him not to run away from hard talks, you fight the urge to say no and run away from the conversation.

“If I don’t say this now, I don’t know if I can later,” you admitted. “I really like you. Like with real feelings, and that’s not normal for me. In fact, I cannot remember a time when I felt this way about anyone before. I’m doing things with you that I’ve never done before. I’m staying with you. My things are mixed with yours. We slept together, like actually just slept. I want to get to know you. I saw your demons, and I want to help you with those.” You look down, taking a deep breath. “I want to show you mine.” Swallowing tears, you push onward. “But if all this is, for you, is a fun week of playing house, I can do that. You just have to tell me now. Please.” 

Leon took a few deep breaths, looking into the water slowly swirling around. About when you were going to break the silence, he said. “There are a few things you need to know before we decide anything.”

“Okay,” you nodded, realizing he’s not dismissing you outright. 

“I’m fifty. Twenty-years older than you, are you certain you want to tie yourself to a man my age? I’m not looking to have any more kids. My job, while I’m pseudo-retired, takes me around the world; at no certain times. One minute, we could have a date planned, and the next, I’m off to Iran for an unknown amount of time. I won't be able to tell you much either; most of what I do is classified.” Leon moves forward, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “I would love to keep you, but I cannot ask all that of you.”

“You’re not,” you shake your head, placing your hands on his. “I’m offering.” 

Leon leaned and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and for some reason, it made your heart break. “I’m not.”

Blinking rapidly, you nodded, quickly getting out of the water. “I understand.” 

“Baby, please. Can we not just enjoy the week?” Leon asked. 

“You know, I thought I could,” you said, wrapping a robe around yourself, keeping your back to him. “I really thought I could, but dammit, Leon, you just made it too hard. I got to go.”

“Wait,” He called, getting out of the water, following you to the front room. “Please.”

“What?” you asked, turning to face him, proud that no tears had fallen yet, but they stung in your eyes. 

“I care about you,” Leon admitted. “Deeply.”

“But not enough to keep?” you asked.

“Deep enough not to keep,” he clarified. 

Wiping at the one falling ear, you nodded and turned on your heel. Leaving out the front door, you find the stairs, and run down as fast as you can to your best friend's floor. You had no idea what the time was, but you hoped, you prayed, she was there. Tears freely flowing down your face, you knocked on her door. Michael answered.

“Hi, Michael. Is Alena here?” You asked, sniffling.

“Yeah,” he stepped aside, as Alena stepped forward, looking concerned. 

“What happened?” she asked, pulling you inside. 

“I told him. I was honest,” you pressed your hand to your mouth, trying to keep yourself from sobbing. 

“Sweetie,” Alena pulled you into her arms. “I’m so sorry.” 

The federal agent currently lounging on the couch wasn’t helping either. You’d known Leon since you were children, mostly seeing him around the house when you’d come over to play with your best friend. He had kept to himself all those years ago, shooting you fleeting glances and berating you when you’d gotten too loud playing.

Boredom makes your temples throb and the thought of reading through another book makes you feel nauseous, so you settle on approaching Leon, flopping down on the other end with a heavy sigh.

“Hey,” you say, your feet nudging his thigh, “can’t you call up one of your buddies and have ‘em pick us up?”

“That’s not how it works,” Leon sighs, his eyes flitting down to stare irritatedly at your fluffy sock covered feet.

“What good is being a federal agent then?” you drawl, head tipping back over the armrest.

Leon rolls his eyes, shoving your feet away. You grumble, tucking your feet back under you before scooting forward to peer at whatever work on his laptop screen.

“Classified,” Leon says shortly, turning the screen away from you.

“Seriously, Leon?” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s not like I’m going to leak government secrets to a foreign enemy.”

“You might ,” Leon grits out, sending you a glare as you try to twist your body to take another look. 

“Maybe I should be flattered that you think me capable of treason.”

Leon snorts, his eyes glancing over towards you again. “You wouldn’t last a day in the field, dork. Most likely end up getting yourself killed, or maybe even blown up.”

You glare at him, shifting again, making sure to dig your feet into his thigh a little harder as you roll over onto your side on the couch. Leon lets out a low hiss, growing irritated with your petulant behavior. He doesn’t shove your feet away like before so you settle on staying in that position, eyes slipping shut. A tiny sprig of hope unfurls inside of you; maybe if you tried hard enough, you’d be able to sleep the entire snowstorm away.

The weather doesn’t seem to let up, the wind howling outside, a chill beginning to creep into the cabin. You huff out an exasperated breath, eyes peeking open to sneak a glance at Leon. He looks engrossed in whatever he’s doing, fingers tapping against the keyboard, his brows drawn together.

Perhaps you’d struck out, getting stuck here with Leon. Sure, the federal agent stuff was mildly interesting, but he was more like a silent, grumpy lump. It sort of helped that he had a nice face, even if just to stare at. 

“‘m cold,” you mumble, sock-clad toes trying to worm under his thighs, seeking out his warmth.

“Stop complaining,” Leon grouses, nudging your legs away with his hand.

“You’re so mean,” you shoot back, eyes narrowing. “Is it because you got stuck with a desk job?”

Leon glares at you, his touch growing rougher as he grabs your ankle and throws your leg away from him. A yelp escapes you, body bending awkwardly before you straighten yourself up, curling up away from him.

“I’m a field agent,” Leon hisses, snapping his laptop shut.

You shoot him an unimpressed look, eyes flitting over him. “I don’t see a gun.”

“Yeah and it’s a good thing I didn’t bring it, because I would shoot you if I had the chance.”

A sharp scoff leaves you, arms crossing over your chest as you stand up. “You’re such a piece of sh-”

A loud screeching noise cuts you off, your brows furrowing as you glance towards the direction the sound was coming from. It doesn’t take long to figure out what’s happened when the lights in the cabin go out after a moment, the interior lit up by the flickering embers of the hearth. 

“Great,” Leon murmurs, standing up and walking towards the large windows, his eyes landing on the generator, “it’s probably frozen.”

You trail after him, a frown pulling at your lips as you stare out at the snowy tundra surrounding you in every direction.

“Is there no way to fix it?” you ask, fingers pressing up against the window.

“Maybe if we got rid of the snow,” Leon sighs, his hand running through his hair, “but the cold would probably just make it freeze up again.”

“Time to get shovelling,” you murmur, peering up at Leon.

Leon’s gaze flicks towards you, his lips thinning. “I’m not going out there.”

“What?” you ask snappily, irritation prickling across your skin, “why not?”

“Because I’ll freeze to death,” he retorts, “didn’t you watch the weather report?”

You stare at him, eye twitching at his refusal. At this rate, both of you would freeze to death if you weren’t able to get the generator up and running. You didn’t particularly trust the insulation either, although there was enough wood stocked in the spare room to maybe get you through the rest of the nights here.

“So what are you suggesting?” you ask, “that I go out and do it?”

“If you’re desperate enough,” he mutters under his breath.

“You’re the man!” you protest. “Shouldn’t you like protect me or something?”

Leon scoffs, his arms crossing over his chest as he stares down at you derisively. “You’re on your own, pipsqueak. Each man for themselves.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you snarl, stomping over to the door and yanking a jacket off of its hook. You shrug it on angrily, zipping it up tight before wrapping a scarf around your neck. “You’re pathetic, Leon!”

You grab the snow shovel, moving to open the door, only for it to not budge. There’s a moment of silence and you don’t dare look back at Leon. Setting the snow shovel down, you tug at the door handle, yanking hard. 

“Please open,” you whisper, trying to wrench the door open, “please.”

By the time you’re done grumbling and yanking, the door’s only response is a pitiful groan, failing to give way at all, completely and utterly frozen shut.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you mutter, glancing at the hinges of the door.

“Frozen in,” Leon drawls, stepping up behind you, “who would’ve thought? You know, you looked pretty pathetic trying to open it up.”

You turn around to face him, biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from spewing a slew of curses at him. Your best friend would pay dearly for this debacle. Pushing past Leon, you stride purposefully into the room you were staying in, pulling free the sheets before managing to haul the mattress off of the bed frame. 

Leon watches with raised brows as you lug the mattress across the floor. You dump it onto the space just in front of the fireplace, brushing your hair out of your face before disappearing into your room again to gather the sheets and blankets.

“At least you’re resourceful?” Leon offers, following suit as he adds his mattress next to yours soon after.

The absence of heat becomes all the more apparent as the night creeps in, your body shivering and teeth chattering every now and then despite the layers you’re wearing. You and Leon settle on soup for dinner, placing the cans near the fireplace to heat them up.

“Maybe we’ll just freeze to death,” you sigh, tugging the blanket draped around your shoulders a little tighter.

Leon hums, glancing over at you. “Maybe.”

You roll your eyes at his short response, padding through the cabin and into the dark bathroom. No generator meant no lights and you weren’t willing to risk using your phone or the flashlights lest the battery ran out.

“Ouch,” you grumble when your hip hits the side of the sink, your eyes squinting in an attempt to adjust to the dark.

You’re too busy rubbing your hip to notice the dark shadow stepping into the bathroom. There’s an arm landing on your waist and you shriek, hand flying out to smack whoever it is. 

“Careful,” Leon groans when he feels you grab at his face, feeling around blindly.

“What are you doing?” you hiss, pushing at his chest.

“Keeping you company,” he shoots back, “not like there’s anything for me to do other than stare at the fire.”

“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” you say, managing to turn the tap on. The water is entirely too cold, but thankfully not yet frozen. You hunch over, splashing some onto your face.

“Funny,” Leon replies drily, his hand slipping lower to hold your hip as you bend over.

Your breath hitches at the action and you hope Leon doesn’t notice, especially with the way you tremble when his hand smooths over your waist absentmindedly. Leon’s touching doesn’t seem to let up and you turn around in his arms, fingers prodding into his chest.

“Stop touching me, you creep.”

Leon lets out a heavy sigh, his hands falling away from you. You manage to bundle out of the bathroom, finding his eyes in the dim lighting. He stares down at you, and you tilt your head in question.

“Nothing,” he huffs out, shoving your face away with his hand.

You grumble, swatting his hand away, padding over to your makeshift bed near the fireplace. Despite the warmth of the fire, you still shiver, and snuggling in under the heap of blankets. 

Leon’s footfalls are quiet as he makes his way over, settling down on his own mattress. Silence passes over you both until a sneeze tickles at your nose, making your eyes water.

“Are you still cold?” Leon asks quietly.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you mumble back, curling up your toes in your socks, trying to bury yourself deeper under the blankets.

You miss the way Leon rolls his eyes, a squeak leaving you when you feel strong arms looping around your waist, tugging you across onto Leon’s mattress. His chest is warm against your back, the layers of blankets growing with the two of you now pressed together.

“Let- let go of me,” you grouse, trying to unlatch his arms from around you.

“No can do, pipsqueak,” he replies, keeping you close, “my sister will kill me if anything happens to you. Besides, I know you gotta little thing for me.” 

“I do not have a thing for you,” you scoff, your denial sharp. You squirm in his arms, managing to roll onto your other side to face him. “That would be gross, Leon.”

“Yeah?” Leon murmurs, his eyes drifting across your face, “you didn’t think it was gross when you told my sister you’d like to sit on my face.”

You sputter, embarrassment making your cheeks go hot. Suddenly, the chill of the snowstorm seems to fade, replaced by a heat that seems unbearable, Leon’s skin warm against yours.

“I- I did not say that!” you protest, trying to squirm out of his arms again but to no avail.

“I overheard you,” he sighs, rolling his eyes when you try to swat at his face.

“Well, fine,” you admit begrudgingly, stopping your struggling. “But you aren’t special . I could name five other guys off the top of my head that I’d enjoy.”

“Ouch,” Leon replies, his eyes boring into yours. “‘m wounded, pipsqueak.” 

You send him a glare before snuggling closer, your face shoving into his chest. Leon lets out a rough laugh, his grip on you loosening. Silence passes over you and the warmth settles down to something more cozy, making your eyes droop shut.

“Could be fun.”

“What?” you mumble sleepily.

“Could be fun if you sat on my face.”

You peek up at him, taken aback. “Have you lost your mind, Leon?”

His lips purse as he considers your words, shrugging his shoulders lazily. “Gotta kill the time somehow,” he yawns.

“‘m not sleeping with you, jerk,” you reply, trying to ignore the fact that Leon, grumpy federal agent Leon , was offering to eat you out.

He sighs, muttering something incoherent that you can barely pick up on. It doesn’t help that Leon’s managed to ruin your sleep, the image of Leon’s head between your thighs popping into your mind. Could be fun .

Leon’s already staring at you when you look back up at him, his brows raising when you play with the strings of his hoodie, twirling and twisting them.

“Do you want to?” you ask.

He considers your words, running his hand through his hair. “I could use the practice. It’s been a while.”

“I’m not a training dummy, Leon,” you retort, but Leon’s already moving, the blankets around you shifting as he pulls them off, grabbing at your sock and pajama pants. “You said it could be fun .”

“Practice can be fun,” he replies drily, pulling your pajama pants off.

You shiver when the cold hits your skin, goosebumps erupting all over immediately. Leon’s hands are warm when he slides them over your legs, his head lowering to take a look at your panties.

“Cute,” Leon murmurs, finger pulling at the band before letting the fabric snap back against your skin. 

“H- hey!” you stop him when he tries to pull them off, eyes narrowing. “You should build up to it, not just go right in.”

Leon rolls his eyes and you huff out an annoyed breath, feet pressing up against his chest. 

“C’mon, Leon,” you say, voice morphing into a taunt, “work for it.”

“You always like this?” he shoots back, glaring down at you.

You give him a snarky smile, nudging your feet against his chest again. Leon shakes his head, grabbing one of your feet. You watch as he dips his head, his lips landing on your ankle. Leon’s lips are surprisingly gentle, his eyes flitting to yours as he trails his lips up your leg, leaving hot kisses in his wake.

A soft sigh escapes you, the tenseness fading as you relax, letting your eyes slide shut as he squeezes your thighs and kisses the side of your knee.

“Good?” he asks, his voice low.

“Mhm,” you nod, hips reacting to his ministrations as he spreads you apart.

Leon’s breath is hot against your skin, his tongue darting out to lick teasingly as he covers your inner thighs with kisses. You peer down at him, reaching out to place your hand in his hair, back arching slightly when he noses into your panties.

You bite your lip when he licks over your panties, feeling wetness beginning to gather between your thighs. His eyes flutter shut when your nails scratch at his scalp lightly, lapping at your clothed pussy until the fabric is wet with his spit and your slick, clinging to your folds.

“That’s cute,” you murmur, “thought this was just practice?”

He huffs out a breath and you smile, letting him lap at your clothed cunt until he’s satisfied. Leon kisses your hip when he rises up, fingers trailing across your thighs before drifting over your panties again, rubbing the drenched material absentmindedly. 

“‘s nice,” he murmurs, reaching up to tug your panties flush against your pussy, his eyes latched onto the way it outlines your puffy folds. Leon’s fingers reach down, rubbing over your cunt, pressing your panties against you harder. He watches the way you bite back the noises that threaten to escape, his lips turning into a frown. “Don’t do that.”

You shake your head stubbornly and he glares at you, tugging your lip out from the confines of your teeth.

“Guess I’ll just have to wear you out, hm?”

Leon’s fingers are greedy as he pulls your panties free, throwing them somewhere over his shoulder.

“Kiss first,” you say quietly when he thumbs apart your sticky folds, “then lick.”

“I know how to do this,” he grunts, gripping your thighs harder to pull you closer to him.

“Well then show me- oh fuck -”

Your breath hitches when he kisses your clit, the bud swollen and aching from before when he’d licked over your panties and prodded his tongue against you. Leon grins against your cunt, his tongue lolling out to lick a stripe over your wet pussy, delving deep between your folds to drink down your slick.

“Taste good, pipsqueak,” he rasps, licking over your cunt, lapping over and over again until your thighs twitch and your hand tightens in his hair, eyes squeezing shut.

“Don’t- ngh- don’t call me that! ”

“What should I call you then?” Leon asks, pulling back to spit on your cunt, his fingers spreading over your clit and pussy, rubbing it in, his thumb drawing tight circles against your clit. “Hm? Baby, is that what you want? Maybe sweetheart? Darlin’, gorgeous, my good girl? All of ‘em?”

You can only manage out a moan, hips rolling up to meet his mouth as the pet-names ring in your mind, a haze of lust fogging over your mind. Leon lets out a hoarse laugh, prodding a finger against your fluttering hole, easing it in. 

A whimper leaves you, cunt clenching around it as he nips at your thigh, tilting his head to suck your clit into his mouth. You shudder as he suckles, tongue flicking against the throbbing bud, teeth grazing across gently. He presses another finger into your cunt, a deep groan leaving him as you clench around his fingers harder, hips jumping when he sucks at your clit with renewed fervor.

“Such a whiny baby,” Leon muses when he hears the little whimpers and whines that leave you, his hand clamping over your hip to keep you in place as you squirm. “Don’t worry sweetheart, ‘m gonna take care of you.”

You mewl, hips rolling again needily as he buries his face into your cunt, slurping and sucking noisily. It makes your cheeks flush with embarrassment, despite the fact no one can hear you for miles.

“Thought- ah- thought you were gonna let me sit on your face,” you mumble out, body shuddering when Leon curls his fingers, beginning to thrust them in and out of you.

“Is that what you want?” 

You peer down at him before managing out a nod. Leon hums, taking a measured suck of your clit and pressing a kiss to it. He pats your hip, shifting to lay on his back in response. It’s nice of him, you think, when he offers you his hand, pulling you closer as you swing your leg over his face as you peer down at him.

“Sit on my face, baby,” he murmurs, kissing the inside of your thigh.

You flush lightly, reaching out to brush the hair that’s fallen across his forehead, running your fingers through the soft strands. Leon’s eyes slip shut and you smile, trailing your fingers over the curve of his cheek before shuffling forward, lowering yourself onto his awaiting mouth.

“Oh,” you breathe out, hands landing on the sheets above his head, gripping them tightly.

Leon groans, hands grasping at your thighs, squeezing the fat of them as he urges you to rock your hips across his mouth. It’s almost too much, the swirl of his tongue, the intensity of his gaze as he looks up at you.

“I like it when you shut up,” you murmur, giving him a smile as you drag your cunt over the length of his tongue. “So much more tolerable this way, Leon.”

Leon lets out an indignant sound and you yelp, jolting when his hand comes down on your ass, your flesh stinging. What an asshole. You glare down at him, gripping his hair harder, pulling at the strands, enough to make it hurt .

He grunts, eyes squeezing shut in pain before he grasps your hips, pulling you down flush against his mouth. Your mouth opens, a strangled moan sounding as you feel his tongue pressing into your cunt.

“N- ngh- no,” you begin to say but Leon ignores you, fucking into your cunt with your tongue.

You can hardly see straight, back arching, eyes squeezing shut. 

“Brat,” Leon snarls, slapping your ass again, “so fucking bratty, sweetheart.”

“‘m not,” you whine, squirming atop his mouth, moaning again when he sucks his clit into your mouth, tongue flicking and swirling until you’re seeing stars. “‘m not , Leon.”

“You are,” he snaps lowly, “bratty and annoying and a fucking pain the ass.” He licks over your cunt again and again. Your thighs twitch, chest heaving as you suck in short, sharp breaths, hunching over when his teeth nip at your folds carefully.

It’s the worst, or perhaps the best because it has the bridge of his nose pressing up against your clit in a way that you’ve never felt before. You rock your hips, gasping, tears pricking at your eyes when he lands another heavy slap to your ass.

“Cum, baby,” Leon hisses, his voice a low rasp, “cum on my fucking mouth. Can you do that, hm? Be a good girl for once and cum .”

You shudder, a sharp cry tearing its way out of your throat as you cum, twitching violently. There’s sweat covering your body, your eyes squeezing shut as you cum. Leon laps at your slick, drinking it down like a man starved. He squeezes your thighs and you tremble, managing to squirm off of him, slumping down over the blankets, panting as your cunt throbs.

Silence passes over the cabin, save for the soothing crackle of the fire. Leon clears his throat, his arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer into the warmth of his chest.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “you- uh, you good?”

“Shut up, Leon,” you grouse, still reeling from the fact that Leon had given you the best orgasm of your life.

“I didn’t mean it,” he offers quietly, calloused palm rubbing up and down your side, over the dip of your waist and curve of your hip. “Well, not all of it.”

You shift, turning to face him. Leon’s hair looks like a mess and you figure you don’t look that much better, given all the squirming and writhing you were doing earlier.

“Yeah?” you murmur, “well, I mean it when I say you’re a dick.”

“Fine,” Leon muses, a smile pulling at his lips, “I’ll let you h-”

His words are cut off when you shuffle closer, grabbing his hoodie. Your nose brushes against his gently, eyes fluttering shut as you press your lips against his tentatively. Leon sighs into your mouth, his hand squeezing at your ass, his lips working against yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck, letting out a soft noise when he licks into your mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. He can’t help himself as he grabs at you, his hands sliding up under your thick sweater to grasp at your tits. You whimper when he pinches your nipples, rolling them between his fingers before tugging gently.

“Gonna let me fuck you, sweetheart?” Leon whispers against your lips.

You nod, kissing him again, pulling at his hoodie. He sits up, tugging it up over his head before reaching for you, pulling your sweater off of you. Leon swallows when he sees your breasts, his hands reaching for them greedily.

“C’mere, baby,” he murmurs, dipping his head to suck a nipple into his mouth. You bite your lip, hands cupping the back of his head as Leon nuzzles into your breasts, mouthing at the sides of them, landing soft kisses across your sternum and up your throat before finding your lips again.

Your hands are just as greedy as his mouth, reaching down to palm him through his sweats, the bulge looking inviting. Leon moans into your mouth and you smile, pecking his lips as you dip your hand inside, curling your hand around his cock.

It’s thick and heavy when Leon pulls down his sweatpants, his cock bobbing. You lick your hips, straddling his thigh, stroking his cock slowly. Leon’s eyes are squeezed shut, his head tipped back as his hips buck up into your hand.

“‘s big, Leon,” you murmur, watching with rapt attention as thick globs of pre-cum bead at the tip of his cock.

“Y- yeah?” he whimpers, thighs twitching, “‘s all yours, sweetheart.”

You hum happily, meeting his eyes before opening your mouth, letting spit drop down from your tongue onto his cock. Leon groans brokenly, watching as you jerk him off, cum and spit mixing together. 

“Enough,” he grunts when you swipe your thumb over the tip of his cock.

You pout, shuffling back, enough to get your mouth around the head of his cock. Leon’s grumbling when your tongue swirls around his cock, his hand fisting into your hair to pull you off roughly.

“I said enough ,” Leon murmurs, moving you until you're on your hands and knees. 

“Thought you said your cock was mine ,” you drawl, wiggling your hips, ass up in the air for him. “You’re being- oh -”

A dazed sigh leaves you when you feel Leon’s mouth on you again, his thumbs spreading you apart greedily, tongue licking over your cunt. You turn your head, hazy eyes finding Leon’s hand wrapped around his cock, his grip tight as he strokes himself.

“Want your cock in me,” you mumble, drooling into the pillows when he kisses your clit.

“Greedy,” he says, rubbing his cock against your cunt for a few seconds before he presses his cock in.

You gasp, eyes squeezing shut, hips shifting away. Leon clicks his tongue, pulling your hips back, forcing you to take his cock. It’s girthy and thick, a mewl leaving you as you feel his cock stretch you out.

“That’s it,” Leon whispers, hand smoothing over the length of your back, “take my cock, sweetheart.”

You babble incoherently, leaning back into him when he drapes himself over your back, his lips on your shoulder. Leon draws his hips back before thrusting them forward, making you moan. He smiles against your skin, kissing the back of your neck before straightening out.

“Look at that,” Leon murmurs, letting out a low whistle as he spreads your wider, his fingers stroking the edges of your stretched out pussy. “Greedy cunt’s just swallowing up my cock, baby.”

“More,” you whine, starting to rock your hips back to meet his thrusts.

Leon groans, feeling your ass smack back against his hips. He grips you harder, fingers bruising against your hips, pushing down on your back to make you arch. The action has you squeaking when you lose your balance, toppling forward, cheek squishing into the pillows.

The clap of his hips against yours is embarrassing, the cold around you forgotten in the dim cabin, the thickness of his cock replacing any worries you had.

“So fucking good,” Leon snarls, tugging you up again. “Perfect fucking pussy, baby.”

You cry out when he fucks up into you, his chest flush against your back, his arm winding around your neck. Leon squeezes and you slur out a moan, head turning to sink your teeth into his bicep.

He hisses at the flare of pain, squeezing harder. Your body jolts with every thrust, eyes rolling back in delirium at how good the feel of his cock is combined with the squeeze of his arm around your neck.

“Leon!” you whimper, tipping your head back, kissing his jaw sloppily.

“‘m right here, sweetheart,” he groans, mouth slotting over yours messily.

It’s all spit and sloppy kisses, both of your bodies trembling as Leon pounds into you without abandon. The squeeze of his bicep has your vision blurring, nails digging into his thigh. Your cunt clenches and Leon whines, pressing you back down to fuck his cock into you, hand coming down on your ass hard .

“Gonna make me cum,” he rasps, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles around the swollen bud. 

“Please,” you mewl, hugging the pillow to your chest, “please, Leon- wanna cum, wanna cum please .”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he chants breathlessly, kissing your cheek, “wait, where- fuck, baby- where do you want it?”

“In- nghhh- in me,” you beg, hooking your foot awkwardly around his leg, trying to keep him from pulling out. “Cum inside , Leon. Want your cum.”

“Shit,” Leon groans, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, his hips humping into your cunt as he loses himself in the tight clench of your pussy. “Sweetheart, you gotta let go.”

“N- nooo,” you whine, shaking your head, wiggling your hips back so his cock presses into you deeper.

He moans, the sound deep and guttural and it has you moaning too, cunt clenching around him like a vice. 

“Pussy’s not letting me go,” Leon snarls, cock driving into you deeper as he slows his thrusts, opting to roll his hips instead. “Fine, ‘m gonna give you my cum, sweetheart. Gonna fill this greedy, little pussy up.” 

You slur out a response, face shoved into the pillow, writhing as Leon rubs your clit a few more times. He curses when you squeeze around him again, slumping over you as his cock twitches, hot cum spilling into you. You bite your lip, dazed and sated as you cum with him, pussy fluttering around his cock.

Leon kisses your neck, panting as he lets his forehead rest against your back. His softening cock slips out of you and Leon turns you on your back, dipping his head to kiss you deeply. You wrap your arm around his neck loosely, sighing contentedly as he massages your hips and thighs.

“I’ll be back,” he whispers against your lips.

You nod, laying there limp. Leon returns with a dry cloth, his lips lingering on your stomach and hip as he cleans you up.

He tugs you into his chest after, kissing your cheek and letting you burrow into his warmth. Your fingers slide through his hair, playing with the soft strands absentmindedly as he smooths his hand over your side, dropping a kiss to your head every now and then.

“So was that good for practice?” you ask, feigning innocence.

Leon huffs out a laugh, his hand squeezing at your waist. “Yeah,” he says, thumb stroking over the curve of your hip, “real good, baby.”

You hum happily, smiling when he tilts his head, kissing you again.

“Does this mean I can see your work?”

“No,” he replies drily, smiling against your cheek. “Still classified, sweetheart.”

“Well, what can I do to un -classify it?”

Leon grins. “I can think of a few things.”

-

“Bring me any souvenirs?” you call out, leaning against the side of your car.

Leon rolls his eyes, dumping his duffle bag onto the ground, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. You laugh, letting him nuzzle into the crook of your neck, humming in amusement when he grumbles.

“You’re meant to say you missed me.”

You did miss Leon. After the snowstorm had receded, you’d still been unable to keep your hands off one another, even when you’d returned home. He’d been called on some mission some months later, and now here you were, picking him up.

“Just a smidge,” you murmur, biting your lip when he noses into your cheek, pressing soft kisses across your skin.

You turn your head, cupping his cheeks to pull him closer, kissing him deeply. Leon smiles against your lips, holding you tighter, arms squeezing around you. “Maybe a lot,” you whisper, landing another kiss to his lips.

“I missed you too,” he sighs, tucking your hair behind your ear and pressing a kiss to your forehead. Leon’s lips drift, dragging down over the side of your cheek and to your jaw. He presses you against the cool metal of your car, one of his hands drifting under your skirt.

“Know that pretty pussy missed me too,” he murmurs, “‘s why you sent me all those videos, right?”

“Shut up, Leon.”

“Oh c’mon,” Leon drawls, pulling you back into his chest when you try opening the door to your car, “I liked ‘em, sweetheart.”

He kisses your neck heatedly, a soft whine making its way out of your throat when he squeezes the fat of your ass and pats it affectionately.

“We should go home,” you whisper breathily.

“Yeah,” Leon murmurs, his hand forward to cup your pussy, stroking it through your panties. “Car’s right here though.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, muttering a curse when Leon speaks again.

He just wants to be here with you and not think about her for just a little while. He wants to go to sleep with you in his arms where he knows he’ll always be safe.

“I’m okay,” he assures you with that smile that is always reserved just for you. “I’m better with you here.” He smiles even wider and your heartbeat quickens. Sometimes you wonder how you ended up with someone like him. Someone who’s so kind and gentle.

You stare at each other and you watch his eyes flick to your lips. You’re both leaning in and when your lips meet, you know where this is going. You’re both taking and taking from each other until you’re straddling him.

You pull away to look at each other and he’s looking at you like you hung the moon, his eyes filled with nothing but love. When you both lean back in, his lips latch onto your bottom lip, biting down before they slot between yours again.

He’s hard underneath you as your tongue slides into his mouth. You feel yourself getting progressively more wet as your kisses get more hungry. You know where this is headed and with how long it’s been since you’ve slept together, you both more than need this.

His hands are so gentle with you which juxtapose the way he’s kissing you. It’s rough and messy and you can’t seem to get enough. His hands slide down your body, moving to your bare thighs until one travels between them, causing you to pull back from him.

“Conrad,” you gasp, your eyes fluttering shut and when they open again, he’s taking off your shirt. He kisses his way down your neck, pressing a gentle kiss to your chest before he flips you over so your back is flat against the mattress.

He’s looking at you again, those pretty eyes boring into yours and he can’t help but smile. He’s officially the luckiest man on the planet-he’s sure of it. As his lips find yours again, his hands slide underneath you, undoing the clasp of your bra.

Once it’s tossed to the side, he takes another moment to stare at you again. He lets his eyes shamelessly rake over your body and god, you look so-

“Beautiful,” he says with another smile. How many times has he said that exact word and how many times has it made your heart flutter like it’s the first time?

He lowers himself down onto you as he kisses you again. Your hand travels down his back as he pulls down your panties, his boxers following. His hands grab hold of your thighs, spreading them as you feel him inside you.

Your eyes shut tight, moaning loudly as he begins to thrust. It’s slow at first-gentle, but then it picks up, faster and faster, the bed shaking underneath you, mattress squeaking with each thrust.

Conrad was going to be gentle, but he’s been pent up for weeks now and getting himself off after work is just not doing the trick anymore. He needs this so bad and from how hard your hips are bucking against his, it’s clear you need it too.

“So pretty like this,” he says as he grabs hold of your waist, nails digging into your skin. “So fucking hot. Can’t believe this is all for me.”

Your hips buck against his as your nails scratch down your back. This is your favorite view, seeing him above you, letting out the prettiest moans when he’s not talking dirty as sweat drips down his body.

Your moans are somehow even hotter than they were weeks ago and that encourages him to get even harder, so sure that he’s going to break your new bed. And why does he find that so hot?

“Fuck, baby,” he moans. “So needy, aren’t you? God, me too.” He’s moving even faster now and you have no idea how you’re able to keep up. You know you’re close and you’re pretty sure this is the fastest you’ve ever gotten close to coming.

“Conrad, please,” you whine, knowing that you just need a little more. You’re not sure how much more you can last, knowing that you just slurred your words.

“Look at you, already fucked out. Come on, baby. Almost there-”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whine, your back arching and Conrad goes harder, deeper, trying to get at least one more out of your before you go to sleep.

“That’s it, just like that.” He’s slowly down, watching you come once more before he pulls out. And just like the gentleman he is, he grabs a washcloth and cleans you both up before he places himself on top of you again.

He rests his head on your chest as your trace lazy patterns along his back. And you stay like that, limbs tangled as you fall asleep, both satisfied with how you’ve broken in your new bed.

Conrad woke up from feeling the empty side of your bed. His blurry eyes looked around the room, hoping that you were just standing in front of the crib, which wouldn’t be the first time.

His friend Agnes introduced you to him; she thought the two of you would make a cute couple, plus it would get him to move on from his brother's girlfriend. You and Agnes met at the coffee shop, and she noticed a pin on your backpack was from a show she also enjoyed. So the two of them clicked and became best friends.

Towards the end of the fall semester, Agnes was hosting a Christmas party. She practically dragged the two of you to come. She pushed you into a conversation and would tackle anyone who tried to get one of your attention. You guys have been talking and taking it slow, and now you’ve been dating for two years.

Well, except for your first anniversary in January, when you told Conrad you were pregnant. You were so scared to tell him, not knowing how he’d react. He smiled and assured you that it was going to be okay because you’re in this together.

Conrad noticed you weren’t in the room. He was trying to keep his anxious thoughts at bay, but it was hard. What if you fell and you both got hurt? How could he be so careless? He should’ve noticed you weren’t gone and waited up for you.

He bolted out of the bedroom, about to scream your name, but he saw the kitchen light on. Conrad walked into the kitchen, and his heart relaxed at what he saw.

You are sitting at the kitchen island, wearing a short lounge set, which had your showing off your five-month bump proudly. From what Conrad could see, you were eating a bowl of Cookies and Cream ice cream with whipped cream, chocolate drizzle, and… jalapeños? Not the weirdest craving you’ve had, but maybe top three.

“You scared me, love,” Conrad smiled, towering behind you, “I’m sorry, bub. I was going to come back from the bathroom, but she wanted this.” You smiled before taking a big bite of your snack. Conrad chuckled before pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

Conrad moved next to you, his brows furrowed when he saw the abundance of jalapeños you had in your bowl. Now Conrad didn’t want to say anything because he never wants you to be insecure about your pregnancy, but the need to protect you overrides him. “Just be careful with the jalapeños, love. I don’t want you getting heartburn,” Conrad's voice softened, rubbing your back. You gave him your best puppy dog eyes. “More?” You threw in a pout.

The power you had over Conrad was insane. You could ask him to rob a bank, and he would ask which one. Conrad never minded about your power until you used it for evil, like now.

Conrad shook his head, sighing, but his small smile gave him away. “Fine. But only one,” Conrad agreed. You smiled brightly before littering his face with kisses. To this day, Conrad had no idea how he survived life without your kisses.

Conrad opened the jalapeño jar with ease, “You’re going to make me spill the jar.” Conrad smiled, trying to keep his hands steady. You pulled away and looked at him like he had committed a war crime. “Do not drop my jalapeño, Conrad!” You sassed, Conrad, knowing the consequences if he did. Conrad hated when you called him by his real name. It's always his way of knowing when you’re mad at him. Which would make Conrad's chest physically hurt; he never wants to hurt you. He wants to be with you forever, to pick you up when you’re feeling down, and he wants to protect you and his baby girl, Susannah.

You never met Susannah, but from the stories Conrad told you, it feels like you do. You could tell how much Conrad loved his mom, so when you found out you were having a baby girl, it was a no-brainer what her name was going to be. As a way to honor his mom and a thank you for raising such a wonderful guy.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, love,” Conrad smiled, pulling out a big and juicy one. Hoping that this was his ticket to earn back his status as your bub. Conrad dug the jalapeño deep into your snack to make sure it was covered in every sweet treat.

there’s a ding, and the principal is speaking over the pa. everyone stops what they’re doing so nothing is missed. after all, this doesn’t happen often.

the teacher freezes, dry erase marker still pressed firmly against the board, the end squishing and ink bleeding atop the letter he was writing and danny, who’s sitting beside you, gives you a look. you know its meaning, recognize the weight behind it, and know this routine. you stand up quickly. the backs of your knees slam into the hard plastic you had been sitting on and the chair goes skittering back, bumping into the pair of desks behind you.

you’re too tired to send that apologetic smile to anyone else. fortunately danny isn’t. making sure you aren’t alone, aren’t the only one being disruptive and making noise in an otherwise silent classroom, he braces a hand on the back of his chair, twisting around, to face your wide-eyed classmates. “sorry about that,” he whispers.

your movements are all harsh. they’re fast and full of annoyance, as you swipe your textbook, pencil kit, and water bottle off your desk and into your awaiting tote bag.

standing up, you make your way to the door. the teacher stares daggers at you the entire way. They go to grab your arm and you flinch away. “don’t touch me,” you grit, hands gripping around the doorknob so tightly it hurts. air is hitting your face, propelled towards you by the door you shoved open, when you hear your dismissal “please send y/n l/n to guidance,” spoken over the announcements. your teacher follows you out into the hallway, shouting instructions that you reluctantly follow, after you.

you count the tiles on your way. nearly running into the blue door, you end at fifty six.

ms jacobs, tara, as she’ll insist you call her, is a nice enough lady. she has curly brown hair, brown eyes, and perfectly painted on lipstick. she looks disarming, as a counsellor with the numbers of everyone that could ruin your life on speed dial, you suppose she has to. still, this isn’t new. she leads you further into the room and gestures to a chair “take a seat.”

when you don't, her smile becomes more strained. “please, y/n. this doesn’t need to be difficult, we just need to have a chat.”

you sigh, shoulders sagging as you plop down into the hundredth blue thing in this office. doors, trim, there’s a ridiculous amount of the colour and you don’t like it. blue, represents sadness. it’s something you’ve had enough of. sure, there’s other colours. posters upon posters–some neon, and green leaves stuck onto a large potted plant. there’s other colours just like there’s other feelings, but the one you’re stuck on, the one you can’t get over is sadness; it's blue.

“i hate the colour blue, Ms. Jacobs.” You tell her.

“why?” she asks, interested in you opening up further. you don’t.

“are you going to give me the run-down? tell me what i can and can’t say?”

her brows furrow. “do i need to? i called you here to talk about your grades but if there’s something else going on–”

“there isn’t ms jacobs. i do appreciate the concern, though. about my grades. they’re passing, i don’t see the problem.” you didn’t have a single grade above fifty five. it was hard to, when all of your teachers assigned heaps and heaps of homework and you would rather take a deep-dive into hellfire, brimstone, and lakes of lava, then return to the place you were expected to complete it at.

“call me tara.” you don’t.

“ms jacobs, if it would make you happy, i’ll try harder.”

“it would, y/n. thank you.”

you gather your things and stand. a glance at your phone lets you know your second class is over, so you plan to head to the cafeteria. “and y/n, just know that whatever you say to me is confidential.” Unless you are or are planning to hurt yourself, someone else, or if someone is hurting you.

“bye ms jacobs.”

walking into the cafeteria was masochistic in a way, when they were serving your favourite food, and you had no lunch or money to buy any with. still, in your hurried text chain with danny, this is where you had decided to meet. If you had to sit with the theatre kids to score some time with your friend, you would, although it would be better if you could grab him and go somewhere that didn’t make your mouth water and stomach ache.

walking over to his table, you noticed alex was there too. Just chatting with his brother. You and alex weren’t the best friends, but he was nice enough, and like issac, lee, nathan, and cole, you had his number written down in your notepad under the ‘just in case’ column. you didn’t mind alex, he was polite and much like his brother, danny, never made you feel less than. alex was always armed with a smile.

“danny!” you called, announcing your presence so you wouldn’t scare anyone. you smiled at Alex who as expected, mirrored your expression. “nice to see you. mind if I cut in and steal your brother?”

alex nods, “be my guest. i’ll see you at the end of the day danny!”

he leaves and then you’re pulling danny up and along with you. he barely has time to grab his lunchbox before the two of you are leaving the cafeteria and heading outside. you slump down against the brick wall and danny takes a seat across from you. cross-legged, he pulls out two sandwiches and hands one to you. you eyes widen.

“i’m pretty observant,” he supplies, shrugging.

“thank you, d” you eat the sandwich, and it’s a good one. “do you have plans after school?” ‘please don’t be busy, please don’t be busy, please don’t be busy’ you repeat in your head over and over again. it’s a mantra, you’re manifesting. hoping, hoping, hoping.

“y/n/n, i’m sorry, i actually do. erin tried out for the school’s production and she wants help going over her lines–i would invite you to tag along but…”

“no, no!” yoy laugh. manifesting doesn’t work, mantras are pointless, and shit, what are you supposed to do about tonight? “no, danny. don’t worry about it. i know you like erin and this is the perfect opportunity! if she’s asking for help with lines–i mean you’re awesome–but let’s be real, you can go over lines with anyone. so, if she’s asking you specifically for help, that's such a good–a really good sign!”

you two talk for a while longer but it’s easy to see your mind is elsewhere.

the bell rings, you head to your last classes, and then home.

you’ve got to go home.

well, to your house. that place, those four walls, they stopped being your home a long time ago. when your dad got drunk and your mom got mean.

cole walter pulls up beside you on your way home. his truck slows down, nearly to a stop, and you keep walking. your headphones are on and you’re pretending you can’t hear him. you can, but, you hope he’ll tire of shouting, slam his food on the gas pedal, and leave you in a cloud of dust. “y/n, hey! l/n, you need a ride or what?”

the truck stops, pulls off the side of the road and then you’re hearing a door slam and cringing, face crinkling as you realise you should’ve just said no. shouted it, even.

cole walter jogs up to you. he knows your house is quite far away. too far away to be walking. he calls to you again but you’re still walking forward. he places his hand on your shoulder. you know he’s there. you know he’s beside him and still you fucking flinch. the second time today and you're feeling pathetic. you shouldn’t be–really shouldn’t be. it’s not your fault that people can’t seem to respect the concept of personal space, not your fault that your trust has been violated, shredded and spat out, so many times that touch makes you jump. makes you want to jump, or crawl, your way out of your own skin. you flip your headphones down, letting them fall around your neck, but turning your music up a few clicks so you can still hear it. music is your vice, but no one’s complaining because it’s better than alcohol or drugs or, i don't know, being an asshole–you do that too. unintentionally sometimes. like now.

“what?” you snap. on the defensive.

cole isn’t surprised by your flinching. You were dead to the world, listening to music so loud he could hear it from where he stood paces away from you. if he were you–if it was your hand that had sat down onto his shoulder and surprised him he probably would have shouted. he caught you off guard, he was sorry. both of his hands stuck up in the air. “that’s my bad. sorry for scaring you.”

“sorry for–” you guess he did scare you. in a way. “it’s fine. what are you doing here?” you take your time looking at cole. his sharp jaw, full lips, his blue eyes. usually you hate that colour, but on him? it’s not so bad.

“offering you a ride. youe place is pretty far from here, yeah?”

“it is but i like walking.”

“walking is fine and all, but it’s getting colder and it gets dark around five now. by the time you make it home it’ll be past that. my truck has heat, comfy seats, and i’ll even let you have aux.”

you’re not a stranger to the effect cole walter has on everyone. not at all. when he smiles at you, you feel your cheeks warm. you’re an idiot for not taking him up on that offer. your feet already ache and your legs burn.

some things hurt more, though.

actions, all of them, have consequences.

“i’m fine, cole. but thank you. you’re sweet.”

he shakes his head. you aren’t walking anymore, instead, stopped on the side of the road just waiting. this conversation, it’s going places. places you don’t like. “i can’t let you walk home alone. not in good conscience.”

he’s jogging back to his truck and pulling up beside you. he’s leaning over the centre console and pushing the door open. leaning over further, and helping you up, not starting to drive again until your seatbelt is buckled. if only that was the least of your worries. if. only.

“so what do you want to play?”

you plug in your phone and queue up your playlist. a sad song blasts and you hit skip very quickly, not missing the questioning look cole sends you. you laugh, “don’t tell me you’ve never listened to sad music while you’re reading.”

“i don’t read much, and most of the music i listen to is because of the lyrics. those ones were… dark.”

choosing to disregard most of his statement, you echoed his words back to him. “you don’t read much?”

“alex reads a lot. you two would get along.”

“shared interests aren’t everything. we don’t have much in common but i enjoy your company and danny and i click and we both hate each other's favourite tv show with a passion.”

“what show is that?” you tell him and he grins. “that’s my favourite too–seriously. we should get together and watch it sometime.”

“i’d love that!” so, shared interests aren’t everything, but they’re certainly something. you smile for a couple more kilometres and then it gets harder. when you see the sign with your civic on it, you know that the ride, no matter how awesome it was, and how much fun you had, wasn’t worth it.

you hop out of the truck–cole offered to walk you to the door but you denied, knowing you were already in for it. “thank you, though.”

He nodded. “i can give you a ride tomorrow, too. anytime you need one, really. just ask–or get danny to. I really don’t mind.” you smile. thank him again and climb out of the truck. you walk confidently until he pulls out of the long driveway and onto the road. then you sigh, and it’s because of cole’s conscience that you get home before it’s dark enough for you to slip in unnoticed.

you pause on the porch. you don’t want to go in, but you don’t have a choice. not really. what are your other options? run off into the woods and let yourself be some colorado woodland creature’s lunch? knowing what’s coming, it doesn’t sound too bad. you open the door and nearly sob when the wind slams it shut behind you.

your heart beats hard in your chest like your father’s boots do on the floor. “where the hell have you been! days, gone for days. you couldn’t call, couldn’t fucking text,” with each word, most of them slurred, he storms closer. it’s not even suppertime and his eyes are glassed over with that familiar film, his breath a pungent reminder, as obvious as the one in his hand, of what he’s been drinking all day. your mother is behind him in the hallway, puffing on a cigarette, uninterested. “there’s no respect! ya here the brat? thinking they run the place. comin’ and goin without a care.”

“i don’t–i know i don’t run the place.”

“damn right you don’t!” the half empty–you’ve never been a glass-half-full type of person, not growing up in this–bottle of beer come flying at the wall. it hits just above your head, the liquid and brown pieces of glass falling all over you.

“look what you made me do now! gone and spilled m’drink.”

you had taken your converse off at the door. always being yelled at for trekking in mud and dirtying the floor, the hurried steps you take backwards, hurt. your dad is wearing work boots, steel toe, but the only thing between you and the broken glass is a thin pair of socks. your skin splits. the light blue fabric on your feet turns dark red.

you whimper and each step hurts more than the last. then you bump into the wall. “dad, please.”

“calling me tha’ like you think it’ll make me forgive you. fuck,” he throws a glance over his shoulder. “how’d we make something so… so pathetic?”

your mom shrugs, like she hasn’t a clue, either.

“dad, please. i’m sorry, okay? i’ll call next time.”

“there won’t be a fucking next time! get your shit and get out. all we do for you, all we do and you’re still impossible. keep you fed, clothed, give you a place to sleep and just get attitude, attitude, and disrespect. i’m done being disrespected. done!”

“you can’t just kick me out! i have nowhere to go.” you yell. you yelled. you yelled. oh god. oh hell. oh shit. you see his leg rear back and you go to jump out of the way. you’ve already been kicked out–you just need to get out, and quickly. you jump over his leg but then his fist is wrapped in your hair and you’re falling. then the boot you dodged is slamming into you side. again, again, again. tears are streaming down your face. you’re sobbing.

then he’s picking you up by your shirt. lifting you, dragging you. he opens the door, grabs your bag, your shoes, and throws them outside. then, then he throws you. you land on the porch, body aching and pressing into the hardwood.

the door slams and you’re still sobbing. you’re pretty sure that your new mantra is ‘fuck’. it’s what you repeat over and over again as you drag yourself up and away from the front door. You need to get away, you need to get away. You really need to. creating distance between you and that door, you and those people, is priority.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.”

running isn’t really in the cards for you. you limp away and don’t miss your mother peering out the kitchen window. you guess that from her perspective you do look pathetic. but no more pathetic than your dad, the grown man who had to hurt you to feel powerful and get his point across. your pace is terrible but the darker it gets, the further you get. you’re in the woods now, with no idea where exactly you are and not much supplies. maybe you will end up as woodland creature dinner. there’s not much you can do to help it now. you think about calling someone and then you realise your phone isn’t in your bag. you start to shake. choked laughter bubbles it’s way out of your throat. you’re laughing and then the hysterics shift and you’re sobbing. arms wrapped tightly around yourself you cry for what must be hours.

later, slumped against a tree trunk you decide to tackle your feet. one problem at a time, one shard at a time. you pluck pieces out of your skin and the blood makes you feel nauseous. when the job is done, you slide your socks back on, and walk towards the sound that comforts you most. Rushing water. you find a river, and kneel at its edge. you wash your socks, yourself, and dry on a stone in the sun. you scrub the dirt and grime from your feet. when your socks are mostly dry and the cuts have stopped gushing blood, you put on your shoes and lace them up. then you follow the river. you’ll reach town soon enough. your face isn’t marred, just the rest of you, all hidden beneath layers of clothes–a long sleeve, a flannel, blue jeans.

ideally, you’ll find danny.

you don’t live in an ideal world. the boy you find is not danny but he wants something you can give and has something you need–a place to sleep. you do so without clothes, lying next to him. What you did was in the dark, would stay that way, because before he woke, before you were made to converse with the nameless boy, you dressed and snuck out. the walk of shame was just that, shameful. you felt horrendous. your body still hurt and you found yourself walking into a cafe you knew haley, will’s wife worked at.

asking for handouts made your stomach sour but you couldn’t do much else.

haley was scrubbing down a table when you approached her. “hey, haley.”

“y/n, hey, how’s it going?” then she turned to you and realised, not good. that it was not going good. you shot her a flattened smile. “i really hate to ask. like, i really really do, but i haven’t eaten in a bit and was wondering–”

“yeah, yes. of course. just have a seat, i’ll grab you… do you have any dietary restrictions?” you answer her, and when she comes back, handing you a wrapped meal you thank her profusely. “is there anything you need done around here? i appreciate this so much, but i don’t want to take advantage. i can clean–i’m not a great cook but I can make coffee.”

“you don’t need to do anything. you aren’t taking advantage. not at all. is there anything else i can do for you? anyone i can call? your parents?”

fear fills your eyes and perceptive as ever, she catches it. “not them, please.” is what you whisper. haley nods, disappears behind the counter and makes a phone call. then, she dotes on you for the next ten minutes until wil pulls up outside. he comes in, walks over to your table and sits down across from you.

you’re pretty sure you’ve been caught. the ruse, it’s very much up.

“what’s going on, y/n?”

you shrug and sip at the hot chocolate haley made for you. “well, come on. you don’t have to say anything right now but let’s get you home.” you stand, ready to go anywhere but, and will stops you. “my parent’s home, danny’s. katherine knows you’re coming. come on, kid.”

you follow him to the car. most of the drive is silent, but you thank him when the walter’s house homes into view and katherine is waiting outside on the porch with a smile. up the few stairs, and you head straight for her. you’re grateful for her gentle nature, because as you throw your arms around her and squeeze, she simply rests hers on your back, rubbing soothing circles. “they–they kicked me out.”

she takes a minute to respond, only because she finds this hard to process. you were a good kid, a great one, and she, having so many of her own, couldn’t think of a single thing that would make her abandon or discard one of her own children. “you’ll stay with us then.” it isn’t a question and you’re glad because how would you have answered? your mouth is dry but your eyes aren’t.

you sit in danny’s room. he isn’t home from school yet but he will be soon. katherine and george are upstairs making room for you. you feel like a burden, they assure you that you are not.

you’re waiting for danny, only he isn't who makes it home first. it’s cole. he walks in, tosses his bag down onto the bed, none the wiser that there’s another person in the room. his back faces you and he’s rifling through a drawer when he hears you hiccup. he turns around quickly. Sees you, crying in his brother's bed and immediately his brows are furrowed. “y/n?” he walks closer. the bed is near to the ground so he drops onto his knees. he’s close to you know but he’s made himself less intimidating. “y/n/n? hey.”

“hi Cole.”

“are you okay?”

“i’ve been better.”

cole doesn’t ask, he doesn’t push. instead he opens his laptop, logs into his netflix and puts on the favourite show you both discussed watching together. when the two of you are settled. him on the floor, face resting on the mattress, where you’re curled up in a blanket that belongs to his brother, he breaks the silence. “do you want me to get danny?”

“where is he?”

“he’s with erin at the school. i think they’re going over details for the production. but i can go get him if you need him. do you need him?”

you shake your head. as danny’s best friend you were the biggest ‘derin’ shipper there was. plus, cole was here. he made things okay. “no, no thanks. i don’t really want you to go anywhere if that’s okay?”

“that’s more than okay, but i will say, my bed is comfier.”

you smile for the first time in a bit, looking at the uncomfortable position he has himself in. “yeah? well, we should definitely watch this, over there then.”

“my thoughts exactly.” cole grabs the laptop, grabs you, still wrapped in the blanket he tells himself he’ll replace from the linen closet, and carries both over to his bed. you squeal a bit and bite back a real whimper when his hand touches what you know has to be a massive bruise, sitting you down.

you fall asleep, leaning against him. he pauses the show, closes his laptop, and promises to resume it when you’re awake to watch it with him. then he sends a threatening text to his brother, danny.

COLE: Y/n/n has had a rough day and is sleeping in our room

COLE: Wake her up and you’ll get hit

DANNY: is she okay??? ALSO since when do you call her y/n/n???

COLE: I’ll see you later

COLE: Tell Erin hi for me

DANNY: fuck off

george and katherine didn’t receive that same threatening text but when they peeked into the room to check on you and found you cuddled up against cole, snoring lightly, and looking peaceful they left you be. your room was ready and in the morning you moved into it. your clothes were dirty and katherine washed them for you but in the meantime… well it was her dresses or… or what you went with.

you knocked your fist against the door and cole opened it, shirtless.

“hey cole,” look at his face. just his face. only his face.

“hey y/n. What can i help you with?”

your hand flew to the back of your neck which you rubbed awkwardly. “can i, uh… would you mind if I borrowed a pair of jeans and a belt?” cole chuckled, then realised you were completely serious. then he gave you the jeans. then the belt. “need a shirt too?”

you laughed, cheeks stained pink. “i wouldn’t mind…”

he handed you the plain black one in his hand. “riding with me to school?”

“if i’ve got shotgun.”

“‘course.” he said, grinning.

you headed upstairs and got changed. the pants were big but with the belt, and them cuffed they fit alright. then, came the shirt. it fell mid thigh but once you tucked it in a bit it didn’t look too terrible. you brushed your hair, your teeth, and headed downstairs. george looked at you with wide eyes and you shrugged, “i don’t really like dresses?”

katherine sighed. “we’ll get you some clothes after school.”

“from the thrift store!” you amended.

she rolled her eyes but agreed anyway. then, you were sitting beside cole on the way to school, during the one class you shared, and at lunchtime. you weren’t ditching danny, just his time was split between you and erin now. they started dating. they were sweet, good for and to, each other.

you’d only been living with the walters for two days, but everything was great. until cole invited you to the lake house. two coolers had you feeling buzzed and when it was your first turn, playing ‘truth or dare’, you picked truth and ended up faced with a question you didn’t want to answer. so you turned, and pressed your lips to cole’s. his lips parted in surprise, but then he kissed you back, tongue slipping into your mouth as he deepened the kiss. his hands flew to cup your face, your eyes were shut, and you were feeling things. until someone whistled and another yelled: “get a room!”

next round, you were three coolers in and ballsy enough to pick dare. “i dare you to jump into the lake!”

you rolled your eyes. like that was difficult. sure, it was a bit chilly, but you’d been in the river days ago. rushing water compared to water the sun had beat down on all day was nothing. you grinned, and ran to the edge of the dock, canon-balling and sending water flying everywhere. when you surfaced you saw the asshole who wore cole’s jersey shaking water out of his hair like a dog. you grinned, and started to swim back over when you saw something that caused you to sober up quickly. the foundation and powder you had painted on top of the hand shaped bruise on your arm had worn off. gone. It was gone and fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck.

when you didn’t get out of the water immediately cole was curious. when your face reflected horror, he was concerned.

“you good?” you weren’t. he walked over to the edge and dipped his hand in. the water was freezing. “come on out, you’ll get sick.”

you shook your head, plastering a clearly fake smile on your face. “my immune system is really strong and i want to swim! i’ll be fine cole, gonna go that way.” you make a gesture with your head and begin to paddle in that general direction. away from the lakehouse, away from the people, away from the party. away from cole—or, you tried to get away from cole. he walked on the bank, steps matching your strokes as he followed you. “get out of the water, y/n.” you were still swimming, and now cole was having to duck under and climb over branches and bushes to continue following. now, you couldn’t even hear the people at the lake house.

“no thank you.”

“don’t be stubborn. this was—it was funny thirty minutes ago! It’s lost the charm. just get out, we’ll go back and…”

“i don’t want to go back.”

“then we’ll go home. would that make you happy? we can leave, we don't have to go back to school, i can take you home.”

“i want to stay in the water, cole.”

“y/n, just get out of the fucking lake. it’s not that hard! i don’t understand why you won’t—“

you’re in waist deep water and all of you is submerged until it isn’t. you stand up quickly. teats sting your eyes and emotion clogs your throat. “you don’t understand, huh?” your voice breaks, shatters, and cracks. “does this help? do you see why when i say i want to keep swimming, i mean it? do you see why i want to stay in the water cole?”

he sees something. he sees bruises on your arms. deep purple handprints put there by too big hands and with too much force—force that never should have been used on you. he’s blinking, his eyes are seeing but his mind isn’t thinking, not fast enough.

“do you see?!” you’re shouting now, sobbing too. “because the makeup washed off and now you can see it. bow everyone can. everyone will see and then they’ll report it and i’ll end up in the system in an equally shitty situation! cole,” another wave of sobs interrupts, “cole don’t make me get out of the water.” he doesn’t, he climbs in with you. water soaks his boots, the bottoms of his jeans, you hear it slosh as he takes large steps and closes the distance between you both. “y/n/n.”

“what?” it’s a sob, a plea.

“we’re going to get out of the lake. i’m going to walk you through the woods, out to the road and then i’m going to go get my truck. i’ll be ten minutes tops. i’ll grab my hoodie too.”

“it’s… it’s back on the chair.”

“the red one, i know.”

“okay…”

cole keeps his word, but after five minutes you hear his truck. it stops, he hops out. he sets the hoodie on top of you and you shimmy into it. “No one will see, no one you don’t want to know, will know. but y/n, you will never go back there, okay? not to that house, not ever, because if you go, i’m following, and the things i do, most authorities will not agree with.”

“i don’t ever want to go back there.”

“you won’t ever have to.”

“thank you.”

“don’t thank me for helping you with something that never should’ve happened. we’ll get you some ice as soon as we’re home.” cole cranks the heat up and angles the fans to point your way.

he opens your door for you and walks closely behind you. no one else is home—katherine and george both working and the others at school. cole raids the freezer for anything remotely icey and heads up to your room. he makes a pit-stop to grab his laptop and some snacks from a drawer none of his brothers would ever know about. he steals the blanket you like off of danny’s bed too—the soft one with the blue plaid.

you both watch the show, he looks concerned when you press the frozen peas to your side too. you lift your shirt, show him the damage and he freezes. “ugly, huh?”

“nothing about you has ever been ugly, y/n/n but jesus, maybe we should go to a hospital.”

“flattery will get you everywhere cole but there’s no denying i looked like van gogh fucked up starry night—and no hospital. they’d like immediately call someone. plus i think they’re just bruised and not broken so that’s good.”

“i’m sorry that this happened to you.”

“oh don’t do that. i hate when people apologise for things that aren’t their fault.”

“can i apologise for danny, then? for him not realising what was happening sooner?” cole asked. people weren’t perfect, you realised that then, cole having said the first thing that genuinely upset you. this was no one’s fault. No one but your scum of the earth parent’s.

“no. danny didn’t do anything wrong. i didn’t want him to know and usually i’m good at hiding these things.” a bitter laugh, and: “usually.”

“i blame the alcohol, but, i guess it’s nice that you know.”

“i’m glad i know.”

and he is. he carries your bag, your books, even goes thrifting with you and katherine. “i like this one,” he’d said, holding up a shirt that barely had any fabric to it. you rolled your eyes for the fiftieth time and picked out a baggy graphic tee shirt instead.

at school he walks you to and from your classes. he sits with you at lunch and helps you come up with excuses—none so awesome that they work without the grin and charm he lays on your pe teacher.

weeks later, your bruises were healed, and to the blind eye, the only indication you’d been abused was the occasional flinching. cole tended to call out his moves before he made them, especially if you weren’t sure exactly where he was. your arguments–few and far between, seriously, the only thing you’d argued about so far was where you went for lunch, were had with calm voices and distance between the two of you. cole was perfect. he never caught you off guard, he was just always there.

wouls see you getting anxious and move closer. “i’m going to hold your hand,” he’d whisper. when you needed someone to talk to it was always him because he was always there.

then, one night, the two of you were sitting on that same blue plaid blanket. the one you loved–the one cole had paid danny $40 for. you were both staring up at the same stars, both wondering the same thing: when had you become so close? you weren’t sure if there was a turning point, a particular defining moment, but cole had taken danny’s place in your heart as ‘best friend’. cole had done that and more. he was more to you than that. he baked your favourite pastry, would go just about anywhere with you, and he made you smile. he made you feel safe. he had told no one your secret–but katherine and george had a clue, enough of one that they welcomed you with open arms and seldomly raised their voices. enough of one, that for that first few weeks, the ice was always restocked in the freezer.

they had an idea.

but cole knew. knew everything. knew and made you feel okay in spite of everything. he knew and still.. still looked at you like… like that. cole, he leaned in closer. you waited and listened. “i’m going to kiss you. because i want to. because i love you how you deserve to be loved. and not because of some truth or dare game.

“it wasn’t bad though, right? because i thought it was a pretty good ki–”

If there was one thing you couldn’t let go of it was trying and not being able to have a conversation with Cole. You found it difficult since he had been avoiding you like the plague. He’d brush past your shoulder in the halls, and if you locked eyes in public he was already walking the other way. Your friendship has been one for the history books. A long-lasting friendship since elementary, but you wondered when and if your bond was soon to expire. You wanted to keep trying though because trying meant you wouldn’t have to lose Cole for good. 

You had had your doubts the second Katherine had invited you to attend Haley and Will’s wedding. Your doubts clouded your mind as you felt your presence and attendance would cause a great deal of stress or frustration for Cole. Seeing as how he didn’t want to talk to you, you did your best to stay far away, sit far, but even then you watched as he left in the middle of the dancing. Heading towards the barn. You had wished you had gone after him sooner, but you waited, waited till everyone was asleep. Anxiety was all you felt as you faced his workshop shed. The light was on indicating that he was in there but if it hadn’t been for the banging and clanging of tools against metal you would have assumed otherwise. It was only one foot after the other. You thought to yourself. Some part of you told you to run and turn, but he was alone and in his element, this would have to be your only time to get your chance. You had to be brave, and strong, but you were not at the moment so you went head first, heart second. You had opened the door and made your way inside. You complicated whether to make your presence known but it ended up being one hesitant knock followed by two certain ones. You had barely made your way into the area before his voice made you halt in your tracks. 

“Didn’t expect you to be hanging around still. It’s late, shouldn't you be on your way home by now?” 

“H-How’d you know it was me?” You gape at him like a fish out of water, not having expected him to speak first. 

“You’re the only person I know that knocks after walking into a room.” He continued to twist a bolt. “Plus you do things in threes.”

You gaped at him. “No, I don’t.” 

You watched as he turned his eyes towards you, a shit-eating grin on his eyes as he leaned to his left. His hand curls into a fist as he reenacts your entrance. Tapping against the metal for effect.

One… two three. 

“Three times.” He smirked, raising his left brow. You wanted to slap him then and there. 

“Didn’t peg you as the type to pay attention to things like that?” 

“Like what? Like how you scrunch your nose and close your eyes when the sun is in your face, and continue to have a conversation like that. Or how you like to listen instead of speaking when you’re in a group. It's just how observant you are. Or how you do things like knock three times after entering a room.” He chuckles, pointing and mocking where you entered. “Or how you don’t ask or expect anything from anyone because you feel like you’re being a burden. Which you’re not. Or how you go out of your way to help others so much, even though some people don’t deserve to be blessed by your kindness. Or how you prefer bikes to cars cause it means you're helping out the planet a little bit more. Or how you prefer Custard instead of Murphy now because when we were younger Alex said you’d be fine riding him…but then you fell off and you got hurt, and it took a long time to get you to trust us again, and get you back on a saddle. Or… how you’ve been nothing but sweet to me when all I’ve done is treat you like shit.” He slams the hood of his truck down causing you to flinch. Regret fills him instantly. “Or…how you hate loud noises because it reminds you of all the yelling that happens at home.” If your heart could stop you’d have collapsed dead on the floor before him. But it hadn’t, it only skipped and increased in speed because you never thought he'd be so attentive to you. 

“Still don’t peg me as the type to pay attention to things now?” He opened his arms out and gave a tight-lipped grin. 

“What happened to us?” 

“I don’t know what you mean.” He brushes past you like he’s done so time after time again. He walked over to his work table looking for a torque wrench knowing the one he needed was over by the truck in his toolbox. He just couldn’t face you right now. 

“Cole…will you look at me, please? I’ve been trying to talk to you for months now and-“

“Have you seen my torque wrench anywhere I can’t find it?” He cut you off. 

“Cole, I’m serious, if you’d just give me a second-“

“Can we not do this tonight? I need to work on the truck okay? It needed more work after it broke down on me and Jackie the other day and I’d appreciate it if you-“

“Can you just look at me for once, dammit!” You walk over and bang your fist on the hood and flinch. You see his side profile first before his body follows, he raises a brow at you unimpressed. 

“On my truck.” He gestures to where your fist rests. 

“I have been trying and trying for so long now to get your attention. To talk to you.” You run your hands down your face. “Because I miss you…” You gesture an open hand to him. “I miss my best friend. I miss wanting to know how your day is going or if your knee has been hurting, but I can’t do those things because you don’t give me the time of day.” 

“I’ve been busy…” He shrugs. 

“Busy right? Yeah, I know what you've been up to.” You close your eyes. “Look Cole, I don’t know if I’ve done anything to make you want to avoid me but if I have then I’m sorry.” You let your head hang forward. “I don’t know what to do anymore…” You hear him before you feel his hands touch your skin gently. In a soft gentle caress, you can’t help but lean into his palm. “I’m sorry…” 

“Hey, you don’t have to be sorry for anything. I’ve been a jerk okay…I've been a shit friend and an even shit brother, but I’m working on it. I am. Things will be different. Okay, if my speech was anything to go off of, I meant every second of it. Meeting your person…When I met you, nothing, nothing else mattered to me. I should’ve realized it sooner too but when do I pay attention to you.” He joked slightly, causing you to roll your eyes. “I should've held you closer because as my mother likes to remind me constantly. You’re good for me, to me, and way out of my league…” Cole laughed lightly. “I guess what I’m trying to get at is I’m sorry…for everything. I know I don’t deserve to be forgiven for the way I’ve treated you.” 

“You don’t.” Cole retreats his hands from your face. Accepting that as your final word. He’d have walked off with a nod if you hadn’t given him the sweet smile he loves seeing on you. “It’s a good thing I forgave you two days ago then..” 

“Wait what?” 

“Thanks for fixing my bike by the way.” 

He breathes out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “How did you know about that?” 

“I had to take Luna to the vet since she got out the night before, she came back with a limp, but that’s a story for another time. Anyway, your mom and I chatted and she assumed we were on good terms again and asked if you had given me my bike back yet. It didn't take long to put two and two together. That and I’ve been missing my bike for a week now.”

“Can’t trust her now.” He joked. 

“When did you even take it?” You shook your head.

“When did you start asking people for rides again?” He raised a brow at you but laughed as you went to playfully smack him for he was the reason for your lack of transportation. “I was driving the boys home from school when I saw you one day kneeling beside your bike. I wasn’t spying by the way, I just happened to see you in all your damsel ness…” He dragged out the s. 

“Right…” You squint your eyes at him in amusement. 

“I figured it could’ve been the chain since you complained about it falling out one time, so it was either that or the tires finally gave out because let’s face it, sweetheart, that thing was ancient.” He started walking backwards with a smirk. “It was supposed to be a surprise but I guess now is as good of a time as any.” He grabbed a hold of the sheet that covered it and yanked it off.

Your heart did stop then and there. You gasped quietly as a cherry red bike was presented before you. Cole rolled it over in front of you before pulling down the support lever. Though it had been the basket with a pink bow on it that caught your attention. It was beautiful.

“You fixed it.” You reached a hand out to touch it but left it hanging mid-air. Too scared to ruin it. Break it. “And…painted it?” You raised a confused brow at him.

“No. I got you a new one.” He grinned sheepishly as you looked up at him in shock. “The basket was a personal touch I added to it though. I thought you could use something to carry your backpack and books, and the flowers you deliver on Wednesdays. You’ve always carried your bag on your back so I thought this could help take that heavy weight off your shoulders.” 

“Cole…T-This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you…” His heart swelled as you flashed him a smile. You looked back to the bike…thinking he must’ve spent his paycheck on it. You couldn’t believe he’d done such a thing for you. 

“You’re welcome bug.” He nodded. “You deserve something nice. Plus your old bike was on its last limb. That and I thought it’d be good for me to get some exercise in. Work the leg out some more ya know. Believe it or not, I don’t remember the last time I ever rode a bike.” He chuckled. 

"Bug...You haven't called me that in a long time."

"It's my name for you..."

"Yeah, I know it is..." You mutter softly. You thought about the name for a second before your brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait if you got me a new one…What did you do with the old bike?”

“Ah thought you’d never ask. I fixed it.” He jogged back over to the corner. Rolling over the old rusted red one out. He swung a leg over the seat. “Thought you can use the company on Wednesdays.” 

“Keep me company huh?” 

“Yeah, I think it’s time I find a new hobby.” 

“Sulking bored you out.” 

“Among other things…” He shrugs. “I want things to be different.” He cleared his throat and held your gaze. 

“I’m happy for you Cole.” You nodded. 

“Anyway…Let’s test this bad boy.” He pedaled out a few feet then you both watched and heard as the clank of the chain fell out. It lay on the floor. You looked up in time to meet his gaze. You had to cover your mouth to keep you from laughing. 

“Thought you said you fixed it.”

“Yeah…The chain won’t stay. So expect a lot of stopping when we go out on them.” He gave a sheepish grin. 

“You took the old one.” You stated. Turning back to your new one with a new sense of warmth and longing. 

“You were due for a new one. No way I could keep letting you ride this thing. I mean, look at it!” He judged the rusted two-wheeler. 

“Hey don’t make fun. She held out for as long as she could.” 

His eyes flickered onto you, lingering on your eyes a little longer before he let his eyes roam to your heels, up to where your dress ended, then his eyes raked back up to your pouty lips. The accidental double entendre wasn’t lost on him. You had held out for him as long as you could too and he’d been nothing but an ass. 

“Yeah, she sure did…” He nodded slightly. You hold his gaze for a bit longer then look away. 

“For what it's worth. I appreciate you doing this for me.” You grew closer to him, a timid stance as you fiddled with your already chipping nail paint. “I don’t think I can show you just how thankful I am, but all I got is this.” You exhaled, then leaned over to press a kiss against the side of his cheek. Cole closed his eyes wanting the touch of your lips to linger on him a bit longer. You pulled away the slightest, your eyes flickering down to his lips before you averted your gaze. Cole’s chest rose and fell at the sudden change in the atmosphere. He often wondered what your lips pressed against his felt like. Thoughts and questions he probably shouldn’t have had like what did you taste like? What noises he could get out of you. He was hungry for your touch, and he wasn’t about to ruin the opportunity to do the one thing he longed for. 

You watched as he stood up from the bike, letting it lean on the support bar. You took a step back as he closed the distance between you two. His hand reached up to find its place again against your cheeks. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” Your breath hitched at his words. “Let me know if you’d like me to stop.”

“Okay…” You had closed your eyes shut as you waited for him to lean in. It was the barely-there brush of his lips that had you gasping for air. It was the effect he had on you. When he was sure you wouldn’t pull away from him, he slid his hand underneath your jaw holding you there as he walked you both to his work table. The wood had met you back as he knelt to pick you up. Your hands slid over and into his locks. Tugging him closer to you as he stood in between your thighs. 

“Say the word…” He pulled away from your lips kissing down your jaw, onto your neck. “And I’ll stop.” He breathed out as he took note of each sigh of contentment you let out. 

“D-Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” You lifted his chin to have him look at you once more. You curled a hand into his hair and crashed your lips onto his.

“I won’t stop then.” He pecked your lips, pulling back in a teasing manner. You grabbed both sides of his face to press your mouths together, having enough of his playfulness. You just wanted him then and there. You knew you were in for a long evening hearing him unzip his slacks. His belt buckle following next.

“P-Promise this isn’t just a one-time thing. That this won’t be like Erin or any of the other girls you’ve been with. That you won’t leave after this. This is my first time after all.”

“Is that what’s worrying you?” He leaned in and pecked your lips sweetly. 

“Would you be upset if it was?”

“No. Thank you for being open and honest about your concerns to me. But I promise you this time it's different, with you it’s different. I feel something when I’m with you, and I don’t want to find out what my life will be like if you aren’t in it any time soon, but as long as you’re game. I’m in this for the long run.”

“I thought Cole Walter didn’t do relationships…” Cole knew you were only kidding by the teasing in your tone.

“Yeah well that Cole didn’t know what love felt like until he met you.”

“You love me?” You grin feeling that warmth spread over your heart once more. 

mostly individual reactions just because it's a little easier that way but trust polytrix real

Zoey would die for the turtle tattoo im ngl. she's the most likely of them to immediately suggest getting a matching tattoo with you because she loves it so much

i love the lyrics part so much because it's something that i think Zoey's always been a little insecure about. we don't know much about her background obvi but i think her love of like writing music was something she definitely got made fun of for so seeing that you associate it with her and support her enough to get it permanently marked on you??? zoey heart eyes for sure

not telling Zoey and letting her catch sight of it while she's pulling reader's shirt off, actually. she's such a freak that it would turn her on. like a permanent hickey in her opinion like there she issssss

if you get a tattoo for Mira honestly expect her to propose she's so fucking flattered immediately. she's just staring at it with wide eyes for so long that you start to think she doesn't like it

reader starts to cover up the tattoo and Mira immediately jumps in to go on about how much she likes it

the sight of it makes Mira feel shy more than anything. for someone who spent so much of her early life feeling like she would never have a family/fit in, the tattoo means so much to her whenever she sees it

a constant reminder of how important she is and how much you care for her???? she never ever would have thought of the idea but now that she has it she can't live without it

Mira's always touching the tattoo whenever she's near you. touching reader through clothing when you're in public, using it as an anchor when she guides you through crowds

when the skin is bare her hand barely leaves it unless she has to. she just loves to feel it beneath her fingers. it's calming. and a little hot, if she's honest

Mira the most likely to get a tattoo of something that reminds her of you in response i think

Rumi straight out sobs when she sees the marks. her biggest insecurity is something that you want tattooed across your skin forever? she can't handle it. just climbs into your lap and clings to you until she can pull herself back together

Rumi always biting/mouthing at the panther. biter Rumi truther and I won't be ashamed

whenever she gets the slightest bit stressed, she reaches for it. it's become a real comfort for her and she's not even entirely aware that she's doing it

she's on yet another phone call with an important person who keeps droning on and she's leaning against you and just tracing her fingers back and forth along the lines like she's in a trance

Zoey joking about how you and Rumi showed up in the same outfit whenever her patterns and your tattoos are visible, and Rumi just eats it up. she gets all shy but she loves it so much

catching Rumi just staring at it with heart eyes all the time

polytrix constantly leaving hickeys over their individual tattoos. like sign here