MOE (っ˕ -｡) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

yandere! boyfriend's father who licks your ears and holds you down on the kitchen counter-top, watching and enjoying as you struggle against his grasp. he's a man, you can't fight him off. once that horrific reality sets in and he successfully talks you through it, guilt tripping you, telling you this is all you fault, that he'd never do such a thing to a pretty and fragile girl like you but you! you were so tempting, so impish. you were seducing him. really? he's the bad guy? and you with your flimsy short bodycon isn't to blame at all? sliding up with any little movement like you had no respect for him and his household at all. really, you're just as bad as him, worse even because you know what you're doing.

you really think he didn't notice? how you'd take extra care of yourself? your nails and your hair? of course it's because you want to impress him, right? want him to approve of you as his son's girl, i mean you are beneath his family. the family that he diligently built from scratch working as a law professor into one with some sort of status and wealth. you wouldn't be able to appreciate that. and to make sure you don't wanna marry his son for daddy's money, he'll teach you a thing or two about respect.

he'll make it clear. he isn't against the slutty outfits or the way you pamper yourself so much, nuh uh! he both expects and likes it when girls are girly. however, he's totally against teasing and cock blocking like you weren't the one leading him on.

yandere! boyfriend's father who rolls the thinly fabric of your pink body con dress up your ass and gives a good smack, leaving you to choke out muffled whelps as he scolds you like a kid. like where'd the strict and scary yet sweet quiet older man go? you knew he was harsh with his punish, you'd seen first hand how he yells at his son whenever his gpa dropped even the slightest. but you didn't expect for him to be like this did ya? and that's the thing, his son has a whole life ahead of him, that boy is going one of the most prestigious universities in the country, top of the sports club, perfect grades since he was a child, popular, talented. and you? you were just some dumb girl he managed to pick up who only cared about makeup, clothes and looking good. you didn't have much going for you except the for the fact that you're resilient and you always find ways to get what you want. you're just a distraction. but he'll allow once you don't interfere too much with the boy's success.

yandere! boyfriend's father who pushes your panties aside and fucks you silly on the kitchen counter-top, groaning in your ear and sticking those same thick digits that fingered you just previously in your mouth to shut you up. he manhandles you and practically tears off your bra to let your tits freely jingle with each thrust. he comes inside even though you desperate beg for him to not and watches as your legs give out. but! before you could collapse on the cold floor he holds you up, and pushes you into another position. this goes on until who know how long, till your in and out of consciousness and teary eyed, completely filled with his seed.

yandere! boyfriend's father who cleans up after the crime scene he's committed basically. he cleans your blanked out body and lays you to rest in his bed before cleaning himself and finishing up dinner. you wake in his bed that completely smells like him, and by now you probably wreck of that old bastard. you try to get up and walk but your legs are killing you and you're having sharps pains in your lower stomach. as though there are cameras inside the room, he enters at the perfect time when you're struggling and falling, cooing in your ears sweetly like nothing ever happened and putting you back to bed. with him, he brought dinner.

yandere! boyfriend's father who only laughs and shoves your mouth open to force fed you when you yell you'll tell your boyfriend on him. what? you think he's scared of his own son? the kiddo that he changed his diaper as a baby? LOL! bitch, you must be stupid. you're forced to chew and swallow the food. "your boyfriend dearest will be very busy with his finals right around the corner, he'll be staying in the domintary until he's finished. don't be a distraction like you already are and try to contact him. until then, you'll be left in my care, sweetheart"

yandere! boyfriend's father who basically holds you captive in his home and 'take care of you' (fucking you crazy in every position imaginable until you're weak) while your boyfriend's away. and he leaves you weakened everytime, unable to move. he already taken away your cell phone and told his son nothing but lies about how sick you were and how he was taking care of you. you spend a whole month with him like this, and he's so shameless sometimes he just wants to play with your pussy so he does just that. it usually ends with him fucking you and breaking inside your womb multiple times. "yes, she's so sick fckngh-" he whispers out the last part of his sentence, railing your poor pussy as he reassures his son on the phone. "y-yeah, i'm taking care of her now, don't worry just f- foucs on doing well, okay kiddo? dad loves you, you take care care too, and make sure you drink enough water and sleep well. uhm wha? i sound a lil weird? uhm yeah i'm fine, don't worry about me."

yandere! boyfriend's father who plays with your clit while he studies that tight, creamy pussy of yours with his huge, veiny length. he slaps your pussy and ass, pulling you back onto his cock when you try to run from the dick. he's turning you weird. making you into a cock hungry whore who won't be able to fuck and satisfy herself on her boyfriend's shrimp dick afterwards. this is bad, really bad. you know this isn't your fault but you can't help but feel unimaginable guilt towards your innocent boyfriend who has no idea what's going on. he's working so diligently to surprise and make his girl and dad proud... what would he think if he found out? by now you're probably pregnant with this man's seed. your boyfriend would be shattered and heart broken. the worst part is how good this is all feeling, your mind is twisting and contorting into what this bastards wants you to think and feel. he's turning you sick, like him.

yandere! boyfriend's father who's like a demon on your shoulder, whispering nothing but tragedies into your ear. "maybe you should tell him. tell that boy how you've been moaning while his dad drills this thick cock into you. tell him how full you are everyday of semen to the point you're probably pregnant with more than one child. don't you agree, baby? i know you feel bad, trust me you should. we're both partners in crime here, and it feels too good to stop, doesn't it? i know, baby, i know. that face you're making, it's so cute and hot at the same time. maybe we should make a few movies, you as the star actress of course. think i've probably taken a few clips here and there, a few photos just for keeps sake. you've been such a good girl for me lately, have you accepted 'us'? what we have? sooner or later, you'll be completely consumed by me. the same way i am consumed by you."

things really isn't looking bright at all. it gets to a point where the month is up and your boyfriends back, you feel better than everything's still the same. you're still receiving attention from this man, this secrete relationship you have is still going. and worst yet, you're stomach is looking noticeable round, your breast is becoming soft with milk and "your body looks too sexy not to devour even as your carrying my child."

yandere! boyfriend's father who completely and successfully physiologically breaks and baby traps you and has you as a prisoner to him, his little captive~ don't worry though, your boyfriend thinks it's his and since it's his dad's own, a male who shares the closest genetics with him, even a blood test won't give away your little secret...

The snow crunched underneath your feet, your ragged breathing wringing in your ear. "Stay calm." You whispered to yourself, the worst thing you can do in this situation is panic. You look to your surroundings, desperately trying to find something that looks even remotely familiar.

Coming up empty handed, you look towards the sky, noting that the pines here are so tall and mighty you doubt even a smoke signal could get you out of this. That is, if you knew how to make a fire... which you don't.

Damn it. What were you doing here? Did you think you'd suddenly become Steve Irwin and be one with nature-

A howl interrupts your thoughts.

The wolves of this mountain let their presence be known with the sight of the setting sun beyond the tree-line. It reminds you, like cold water being poured down your spine that this is their home, not yours.

You need to get out of here, fast, but picking up the pace is almost impossible, you're exhausted out of your mind. On the other hand if you let the sunset pass and the dark consumes this forest, what would there be left of you?

Maybe it was the stress or the onsetting paranoia you could feel building in your chest, but there's this strange feeling that rolls down shoulders to your lower back; the feeling of being watched.

"Don't think about that." Its for yourself and for yourself only that you say it, not only because of the lack of anyone else to say it too, but because you know once you think it, it won't be long before you believe it.

Regardless, you doubt anyone else would be out here in this storm. You can't even see a foot in front of you and you think someone is watching you? Ridiculous.

The sight of a clearing makes you smile, you must be getting close! You step further with a little bit more determination than before just for it to be crushed all over again.

A giant, gorgeous, frozen, waterfall stood in front of you.

"No..." You whispered in despair.

You had looped back around.

Somehow, at some point, you managed to turn around. That means you were more than an hour away from your cabin and you had little to no time to get back.

The setting sun began to feel less like a beautiful painting and more like a threat in the sky.

"... no no no..." Your breathing spikes and your heart pumps faster than you've ever felt before. You collapse on the ground, your own weight dragging you down to the snow.

Snow? No, this was ice.

Wait, Ice?-

You don't have time to process the crack that reaches your ears, you only feel the freezing, scraping, cold, water breach your clothes and hit your skin.

You manage to successfully grab onto the edge of the opening you created, slicing your palm open on its sharp edges.

You hang on and try to pull yourself up one, two, three, times. By the fourth, you don't have it in you to push forward. You're out of breath and out of strength. Your eyes close and your hand relaxes, succumbing to the dark waters.

Gasp.

The wind of the mountains greets you sharply, biting into your wet skin. You're confused and dazed as how you're breathing or how you were even pulled out of the water, but it doesn't matter right now.

Something sharp grabs onto your jacket and pulls you onto your side, causing you to cough up whatever water was left in your lungs. You hack and wheeze relentlessly for a moment, desperately trying to find your breath.

"Thank-" *cough* *cough* "-you." You croak once you have the strength. "Thank you.." You whisper it like a prayer. Blinking up to the cloudy sky, you hear a growl or maybe a huff? You couldn't tell, so tired that it didn't even occur to you to be confused.

Tunnel vision slowly set in along with a twinge of fear in your heart. You guessed your tiredness must be causing you to hallucinate because the last thing you saw before you passed out was a blur of thick white fur and a pair of daunting, yellow, eyes.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"Cmon' sweetheart, don't leave me hangin'."

It's said far away, farther than you can even think of going right now. All you want to do is stay in this warm, dark, place. At least here your bones don't ache and your muscles don't feel tense. What else could you want?

A cold touch meets your temple, you quiver at the sensation.

"Don't you wanna say thank you to me again?" It's closer this time, much closer. "You said it so pretty for me last time." The voice feels almost like it's right up to your ear now but somehow you know it isn't.

Your eyes open slowly.

"There she is."

Crystal blue eyes greet you, so blue and so light, yet dark and cloudy in a way color on its own can't describe. The face that comes with them isn't any less beautiful, despite its clear age. Dark blonde hair with a few gray strands, tamed facial hair to match, and a menacing yet gorgeous scar that ran from the bottom left side of his jaw, up his cheek, through his hair, and ended at the tip of his cranium.

"I-" You tried to speak but only a rasp came out followed by several coughs. "Easy there." The man said, slowly hoisting you up so you could breathe easier. He held you there for a second till your coughing ceased and he was sure you could hold yourself up.

He separated himself from you for only a second to grab something; water, to your relief. "Here." He whispered. "Drink slowly, there's no rush." The blue eyed man held the bottle to your lips and you greedily took it from his grasp, ignoring his words, taking gulp after gulp, feeling like there's a dessert forming in your mouth.

To no one's surprise, you end up in another coughing fit. The man sighed deeply. "Live and learn, I guess." You hear him say, but despite his clear frustration, there's still a hand that comes to your back and rubs slow circles there.

You finally regain your voice after a moment. "Who are you?" You asked to the best of your ability. The man before you smiled, a toothy, sly, grin that was charming in a way you didn't quite understand. "Straight to the questions, huh?" He quipped comically.

You ignored his comment. "Were you the one who pulled me out of the water?" You probe once more. The scarred stranger squinted his eyes at your persistence, looking like he was mulling something over in his mind. "Yes." He said after a moment. "Yes, I was." He continued to stare at you silently.

His response makes your eyes widen. "You..." What should you even say? "You saved me." There really wasn't much else to state other than the truth. "I owe you my life."

He smiled, but not like before. This smile made you uncomfortable in a way that you couldn't quite pin down. Maybe it was because it didn't reach his eyes, maybe it was because it showed off his sharp looking molars, but it was probably because it felt too eager, almost uncanny.

His smile dropped.

"I'll hold you to that."

Without another word, you watched as he stood from where he crouched next to you and walked over to a table in the corner of the... room? Wait, was this not a house?

The sudden realization that you were completely unfamiliar with your surroundings puts you on high alert. its only now that you notice that the walls are not made of wood or brick, but a jagged, uneven, surface that you could only assume was stone. Mountain stone.

Your view of the ceiling confirms your suspicions, as you realize all light in the room comes from an old oil lantern, no ceiling fixtures or electrical lighting to be found.

What is this place?

"Do you live here?" You asked quietly, surprised by the echo, how did you not notice beofre? He looks at you with a raised brow and you immediately rectify your words. "Not that there's anything wrong if you did live here, it's lovely! Actually its perfect, you have great taste in decoration-"

"I don't." He cuts off your restless rambling with two syllables.

Well, that's a relief.

You look around once more, visibly confused, so he answers you without prompt. "I just come to do some work here." Suddenly things become a little more clear to you. "Oh, so you hunt or something like that?" It was your only guess for the array of tools on the table.

"Something like that."

While you didn't appreciate his vagueness, you guessed the man didn't technically owe you anything. Actually it was you who was in debt to him and here you were being rude of all things.

The room... cave?.... goes quiet once more, mostly because you're unable to find anything else to say. Your eyes peer down in your silence and find your hand. Right, the cut from the ice. It's been neatly bandaged since the last time you saw it, though it clearly needed to be changed, the dressing already being multiple shades of red.

That's funny, you don't remember it being that big. It's crazy how adrenaline works, you suppose.

You watch as your savior sharpens a hunting knife, the sound eerily filling the space.

Shing.

Shing.

You try to rise from your spot on top of the stacked animal pelts but are met with hazy vision and labored breath. "Look, I really appreciate everything you've done for me, but I should really get going."

The knife thuds as its plunged into the table, a deafening silence follows.

"Why the rush, sweetheart?" He speaks, but it's different now, rougher now.

You can't lie and say the way he was looking at you wasn't incredibly intimidating. "Well... I should probably get this checked out by doctor-" You raise your hand to show him. "And I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome." You finish with what you hope is a polite smile but probably comes across meeker than you intend.

He huffs like you just personally offended him. "You've really only been here for a couple hours." He pauses to walk back over to you. "That storm outside hasn't blown over yet and we both know you're in no condition to hike your way back." He kneels in front of you, taking your hand in his, as he slowly unwraps the bandage on your hand.

Theres is a strange trance that comes with the sight of this scarred, calloused, man doing something painfully gently. He reaches for clean gauze with his other hand, not daring to let go of your injured one. It didn't occur to you to question why one man would need several dozen stacks of gauze in all sorts of different shapes and sizes.

"You should get some more sleep." You let him lay you back down against the pelts, not too sure why, you'd never let a stranger get this close. "Tomorrow morning, when the weather calms down a bit, we'll see what we can do about getting you back to your cabin, alright?"

You nod against the hand on your cheek, thoughtlessly. Wait-

"How do you know about my cabin?"

The question leaves you before you can even process what it insinuates, but when you do your eyes widen and lock onto him, like deer caught in headlights.

Theres a beat of silence.

He doesn't answer, he only smiles that same toothy grin from before, like an animal bearing its teeth before the pounce.

You stand up slowly, still unstable from your blackout, but determined nonetheless. He watches as you steadily back up away from him towards what you can only assume is an exit.

He sighs and shakes his head, smile still on his face.

"Had to make things difficult, didn't you?"

You run.

You're out the den faster than you anticipated, rushing past trees and hills at speeds that confuse you but are grateful for.

Theres not much time for thinking but you do note that you've never run like this before in your life. It feels like your feet are about to fly out from underneath you, like they're their own being separate from the rest of you.

You run with no direction, or so you think. You let your legs do all the thinking and take you where they deemed you should go.

Imagine your surprise when you find your way to the waterfall you met your demise at?

"Not this again..." You say slightly, but barely, out of breath.

You slowly come to a stop, feeling like you've put enough distance between you and the cave. Your ears assure you that you're not being followed, detecting no signs of rushed footsteps or ragged breath. Actually, did you even see that guy follow you out of the den?

From here, you thought, you should be able to make it back to your cabin, pack up your things, and make it to a town. It's dark out now, but it doesn't scare you. Theres a strange determination building in your head that doesn't quite mind the challenging environment.

You make a point to walk slowly moving forward, avoiding the spots on the ground you know will give away your position. Even though you technically have no reason to think so, there's still a chance that you're being followed.

After what you guessed was about an hour, you finally noticed that the trees started to disperse bit by bit, which means that they are clearing the way for something, most likely your cabin, but at this point you'd take any human establishment.

And there it was was. After what felt like forever and several traumatizing experiences later, you finally made it back to your cabin. it sat there exactly as you left it the night before, lights on-

"You did good."

It's said behind you in a rough, gravelly voice. You whip around, immediately expecting to find the strange man from before but there's nothing there.

Your eyes whip from one direction to the other, scramming to look for the danger.

"I didn't expect you to get this far but..."

The voice seemingly moves from place to place without any motion, moving like smoke over a fire.

"Here we are."

You spin in place, heart pounding as you look for the voices origin but are met with a sight that knocks the wind out of you.

Yellow eyes like the sun, teeth like knifes, fur as white as snow, and a long pointed scar running through its face.

The wolf opened its mouth and spoke.

"Ive never seen it work this fast before." You watch as its inhuman lips curl and enunciate every word perfectly. "I knew I was right about you." Theres a sick and twisted chuckle that follows the last sentence, it left no doubt in you that this thing was the man you met before.

The beast circles you slowly, rounding you again and again in silence, its eyes never leaving your silhouette. "What are you?" The question leaves you in a sour tone that he doesn't seem to appreciate.

"You'll know soon enough."

It's the last thing he says before you hear a growl and a bark. You've been tackled to the ground, back hitting the sharp rocks harshly.

With you down on the ground, the creature walks out of your field of vision and towards your legs. You hoist yourself upon on your forearms to see him standing by your feet.

"This will hurt." He pauses not for a moment of light hesitation. "I'll make it up to you later, I promise." His words make your eyes widen.

"Wait-"

Teeth clamp down on your ankle. A searing pain and your wild screams follow shortly. Your body doesn't know if it should lay down, sit up, or curl up and die. Not that you could though, a swift look downward lets you know that he has not let go.

Looking down was almost worse than the actual pain itself. The sight of pooling blood distorting the view of your limb, where there was once your ankle there was snow a strange, painful, blur of flesh and blood.

Teeth dig deeper into your already damaged joint. The pain is so strong you don't even notice the world around you starts to move as he drags you from your spot on the ground deeper into the woods.

You don't know if you passed out from the loss of blood or the pain, but you were glad it was over. You embraced the dark, heavy, state of unconsciousness like an old friend, hoping that when you awoke once more you'd find yourself in your bed, breathing heavily and a sweaty brow as you realized it was all a dream in your head.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Leon was never the sentimental type.

He lived his disgraced life as he should, alone. Endlessly wandering this seemingly infinite frozen landscape for however long he had left.

Why should it be any other way?

Wasn't this the way of life of a beast? Of him?

The world had dealt him the card of monster, so that's the one he will play. He clearly wasn't anything else.

So, why? He asks himself.

Why save you?

Why pull you out of the hole you dug yourself into?

He could've done it, if he so wished. Prey had never been served easier or prettier.

He'll never forget that moment, his teeth so close to your neck, your blood audibly pumping through your veins, it was perfect. Like dinner served on a silver platter.

So, why? Why pass up on the first human he had seen in months?

Maybe it's the natural prey drive in him, he thinks. The need to hunt down his meal and play with his food before he can eat. To make you trust him, be comfortable with him, and then and only then sink his teeth into your flesh.

No... there's more to it than that.

It was probably because when he got close to you for the first time, you thanked him. So purely and desperately, not caring who or what was on its receiving end.

Or maybe it was the way your eyes fluttered gently when you were unconscious, dreaming of better circumstances for sure, but he found himself wanting to know.

Perhaps, it was the way your chest rose and fell with the rhythm of your breathing. In and out like a melody. So peaceful, so serene, so alive.

Regardless of the reason, you were an enigma to him, something rare and precious, and that was more than enough for him to take your injured hand, hold it close to his cheek, and then take a small but precise bite.

Not enough for you to immediately notice when you woke but enough for his DNA to mix with yours. He guessed it didn't matter anymore, if that wasn't enough to make the change than the fresh bite on your ankle defiantly will.

He didn't want to hurt you. It just wasn't in his plan for you to be able to get away so fast and he had to bring you back somehow. He's keeping his promise though. As you lay unconscious on his pile of pelts once more, he gently cleans and wraps the wounded area with expert care. He promises to catch something big for you once he can go out again.

He presses a kiss to your shin as you grimace in your sleep. Life may have dealt him a bad hand but you may just have traded him your royal flush, and he's not gonna let it go to waste.

He tucked a strand of hair away from your face.

You're not getting away from him anytime soon.

Anon if your reading this im so sorryyyyyyy, I know this took me forever. But I hope you enjoyed nonetheless! And thank you so very much for being my first request!! Im honored to have written it :)

Incase anyone was wondering, this of coarse does not follow the storyline of the wifey universe. But! if you liked this and wanna see more of my writing or send in a request you can find all of that here.

Lowkey tempted to follow up on this.... mmm idk. We'll see!

Obsessed! Whitney who at first simply approaches you as he has done to many others. After all, he was simply looking for a new toy that could entertain him a bit, who could be best than someone that was in the same class at him?

Obsessed! Whitney who starts to become a bit too interested in you. He does the same thing he has always done to the rest, forcing you to undress in the middle of the road while his friends take pictures and say nasty things about you, and despite he keeps on laughing each time you try to cover your face, he notices a strange knot in his stomach each time one of his friends tries to touch you a bit too much for his liking. In fact, he even has to restrain himself from punching him on the face, which is weird, as he usually has no issue sharing with them as long as he gets the first taste.

Obsessed! Whitney who begins to write more posessive messages all over your body. At first the messages were simply things like: "cumdump" or maybe "cumslut", but as the two of you begin to become closer, the messages become more... clear. With your inner thighs being completely marked by his teeth mark, together with permanent marker that said things like: "Whitney's slut", with his friends simply laughing acting as if they didn't notice that... strange glimpse on his eyes.

Obsessed! Whitney who begins to save your underwear in his room. He keeps telling you to not wear underwear, but he keeps on finding himself fisting his dick with your underwear wrapped around his cock, lewd sounds and curses coming out of his mouth as he tries his best not to remember your stupid face with those stupidly cute eyes. The next day, he has bite marks over his left hand, and he somehow seems to be in an even worse mood, as he keeps clicking his tongue each time you get remotely close to him, still, the only thing you can do is wonder what the hell is wrong that day with him.

Obsessed! Whitney who only becomes more and more fixated on you the hardest he tries to play cool. He keeps forcing himself to get used to sharing you with his friends, used to seeing you on the floor while some other fucker tries to have their way with you... His little plan comes crashing down the second he finds you with that fucking loser, what was his name? Oh yeah, Kylar, that frail boy who kept stealing glances at you every time he thought nobody was looking. Guess it was his turn to show who you truly belonged to, right? So he made his way inside the small closet and closing the door behind him. He suddenly grabbed you by the collar, pulling you to the floor and forcing you to get on your knees as he unbuttons his trousers, rapidly removing his underwear in front of the two of you.

"Who would have guessed that the loser would fall in love with my slut? Guess it's time to show him just how much you love my dick, yeah? Open up, slut." He wrapped his hand around his cock, moving the tip towards your lips as he smiled wickedly. His other hand grabbed you by your hair, pulling it so you finally opened your mouth, your tongue lolling out as if you were trying to mess with him. He tightened the grip around your hair, forcing his whole length into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat as you tried your best not to gag on it. "Come on slut, tighten that fucking throat, we have someone watching..." He started to move his hips on a ruthless pace, forcing you to constantly gasp for air as you kept trying your hardest, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you kept receiving his harsh thrusts against your uvula. This kept going for a few minutes, the closet being filled with the lewd sounds of you choking on his cock, together with the faint sounds of Kylar's crying (and maybe some other wet sound...). Without warning, Whitney put both of his hands on the back of your head, a slightly salty liquid filling your mouth as he held you on your place, heavy ropes of cum falling down your throat as you kept trying to swallow it as fast as possible. "I hope this reminds you who you truly belong to, slut." Without saying anything else, Whitney leaves, looking at you one last time before going to the following class.

Obsessed! Whitney who starts to see you more and more outside of class. He begins to wait at the front gate every single day, always making some poor excuse for him to separate from his group. This strange behaviour only increases, as you start to see him everywhere, from math classes to the park, even sometimes feeling as if you were being followed while walking around the alleways of the city. In fact, you even notice how you stop being harassed by most people, with them simply looking at you with a mixture of desire and restrain. Who would guess that it was thanks to Whitney's threats that you would finally be able to walk around the city more or less safe?

Obsessed! Whitney who starts following you around the whole school, forcing you to have your arm wrapped around his, only letting you away for some time as he speaks with his friends, his hand trailing around your naked lower half, his fingers barely rubbing against it as you force yourself to keep a straight face, making him grin as soon as he notices your useless squirming. This not only allows him to state his position as your boyfriend, but he even gets to see the looks on the faces of all those losers that you had been fucking while he wasn't around, God, he just loves seeing their faces crumble to pieces.

The smooth neck of the bottle is in his fist, a promising chill comes from it, in the silence of the apartment, Leon sits down on the couch, he can almost hear the voice coming from the beer; you deserve this, taste me. He shakes it off — beers don't talk, that's exhaustion talking. Requiem tonight is not only his loyal friend, but it is also sturdy enough to open the bottle when he is too lazy to look for the opener in the dark. He places the edges of Requiem under the cap's rims, prying it off until there is a satisfying pop that follows the cap coming off.

The gun would feel heavy in any other hand that is not his, 2 kg is nothing with a huge experience with the weapons, in his field it is mandatory, unless one wants to die; he changed many, and every one of them was a reliable friend for the missions. Still not like his beloved Matilda, even though time has passed he doesn't use it anymore, Requiem could come close as a second place.

He takes a sip, not enough to have an effect, beer barely does anything — but it satisfies the itching need for alcohol, the smell of it and refreshing liquid moving to his stomach. Another sip. Leon groans and sinks deeper into the couch.

"Leon?" You peek out of the door, rubbing away grogginess from your eyes. Shit. Leon didn't notice how loud he was, you are usually not sleeping at this time. Of course he must have put two and two together, you didn't meet him in the hallway as you usually do.

"Yes, pumpkin?" Leon answers, his head tilts to the side, stubbled cheek rests on the head of his shoulder. You walk in, your head turns right and left, inspecting the familiar room, well, not so successfully, as the sleepiness of sudden awakening heaves on you.

Your mother is barely at home, in any other cases he'd feel terrible, tremendously lonely but you are a delight to have around. Really. Meeting him in the hallway with the brightest gleam in your eyes, like he is some sort of an every day gift, sometimes even with a full cooked meal.

Leon puts the bottle on the floor, before looking back at you. Freeing space, forgetting about the gun next to his thigh."Did I wake you up?" he asks you, letting you plop down next to him, your back pressed against his arm.

"What were you doing?"

"Nothing, really," Leon answers, not thinking too much.

You aren't buying his lie. Reaching to turn on the lamp on the table, the one you always told him to replace the way it is useless due to how it barely illuminates the room, a gleam of the bottle catches your eye.

"You were drinking," you state, your finger traces the neck of the bottle; it is still cold, refreshing. "Huh? A beer?" Leon barely drinks beer, so your voice painted with confusion didn't surprise him.

"It barely does anything," Leon says, his hand coming to squeeze your cheeks together. "But it satisfies cravings before bed." It slides down to grip your lower jaw, tilting your head to meet his eyes.

"Cravings?" you echo. "That makes you sound like an alcoholic."

His thumb caresses your lower lip, tugging down just slightly to expose your lower teeth. An affectionate gesture, Leon can't keep his hands off you every time you loom in front of him.

"Your old man craves rest, alcohol helps with that, as simple as it is." Leon says, hypnotized by the sensation of your softness. His finger taps on your mouth, making you gasp softly and it is an easy go to slip it.

Your lips envelop the thumb, its wet silkiness engulfs his skin, just giving a simple idea how it would be if it was his dick instead. Leon presses on your tongue briefly to mess with you, letting your tongue glide across his finger, coating it with saliva, all while staring back at him with the brightest gleam in your wide eyes, but confused, still good for him, for your step dad. Your thighs rub against each other, hard to hide from him; as if your mouth is connected to your pussy, it gushes sooner than he would ever expect.

"Are you good, sweetheart?" He asks, a nod follows from you, your eyelashes flutter like butterfly's wings. "We are going to find out then, aren't we?"

Something heavy, colder (can't be his hand) presses on your chest, making you gasp around his thumb, trying to look for it, but Leon keeps a good grip on your jaw, putting down your curiosity.

"Look at me," he says, while pressing even more the barrel of the Requiem against your clothed chest. "Can you guess what it is?"

You are not sure.

He traces in clockwise the outline of your breast, watching your chest hitch briefly, shakily inhaling around his thumb. On the wet skin, your inhale brings a contrasting sensation, colder before the warmth of your mouth engulfs it back. You can't really answer, as much as you want, the finger presses on your tongue, any possible words turn into a muffled sound, while the muzzle presses into plush covered flesh, before it glides higher just to stop on the side of your neck. There is no barrier that could minimize the sensation, the cold metal kisses your skin, blood pumps in the veins as your suspicion confirms. You mewl, clenching your thighs harder together, it all goes straight to his dick, an ache that fills his own mind with images of you on your knees, him tapping his dick on your lip before thrusting in your mouth. Leon tugs on his pants, trying to ease the pressure as his eyes can read all questions that start swarming in your head; is it loaded? Will he hurt you? Did you anger him?

"You look like you want to suck on it, baby," Leon teases, but you don't try to deny it. Like a dad, your step dad, always wanting something in your mouth. If you were related, you'd take that from him.

He moves the gun, the barrel presses against your cheek. His thumb is pulled out of your mouth with a loud, wet pop, admiring your dumb look with parted mouth and the string of saliva that connects his finger — dumb, but hot enough to make his dick throb heavier in his pants.

You shift, Leon lets you sit between his spread legs, with the evident swell in front of your eyes, before drifting your attention to the heaviness of muzzle against your lips. You hesitantly press your tongue against it, tracing the void of the circled shape, before tilting your head to the side, letting your tongue slide across the long barrel of Requiem.

"Open up, come on," Leon shakes it impatiently, gripping your head to bring your mouth back to the muzzle. "be a good girl for your dad."

You can't refuse him, even a frown doesn't remove that cat traits his face has, the ones you love so much; routinely promising to yourself you won't seek time with him, he is a busy man, he needs to have his own free time until his face appears in front of you, it whips any possible thought in your head, dumbing you and replacing with the need of him instead. Tonight it is his dick and attention, your mouth opens up, trying to make it wider as possible.

"I wanna see this tongue, baby, don't be shy," Leon tsks, your tongue lolls out, "Good girl, do it for me."

Finally the heaviness of the barrel connects with it, moving his hand enough to let it slide back and forth on the slick surface. More saliva pools in your mouth, trying to swallow it but useless as it starts slowly dripping, making the gun slicker, while drooling on the floor worse than a puppy waiting for a treat. Frisson runs across all his body just from the sight in front of him, your ears catches a shuffling noise of taking off the belt and with a clear, impatient motion he frees his dick. Hard flesh bobs up to his hip, your eyes follow a light curve with a prominent vein along the length, the one that begs you to lean to his dick, to trace it before sinking your mouth onto length. It twitches in air with a red tip, silently begging for attention before his palm curls around it.

Your mouth tries to close around the muzzle, making your eyes tear from the painful stretch, of course you can't take it. It is huge. His dick throbs in his fist at your struggle, tightens the tunnel around his cockhead, squeezing it.

"Too big, sweetheart," Leon groans, keeping pumping his dick in a quick pace. You pull back with a wince, the best option is to give up and let it glide across the silky, wet surface. "don't bite off more than you can chew."

You don't have anyone to impress here, your tongue lolls out and the taste of metal returns, letting your tongue to swirl around it, while your eyes follow his hand; up and down in a quick successions, beads of pre-cum form on the slit, — enough to remind you how frustratingly empty your cunt is right now, you want to climb on top of him and grind on his dick, to make him feel how much you are wet and how much you want him.

Leon wouldn't mind you playing with yourself right? You hope he wouldn't, right now it feels like you are going to die if nothing will touch your aching cunt. Your hand slips down, underneath the fabric to spread your dripping lips, two fingers dip in the folds and your hips jerk. Fuck, a little of pressure on your clit is enough for a shaky exhale to slip.

The taste of metal on your tongue, his dick twitching and leaking after every stroke in front of you, and your fingers pet the swollen clit, he can't see your pussy, how your folds are glistening and slick right now, but Leon can hear it, oh, so well — it sounds so wet. Shlick, shlick! The noise is audible in the room, not as much as your drooling mouth from which desperate whimpers slip, still is enough to make his cock twitch.

"Are you going to cum just by sucking this gun?" Leon asks, before shaking his head with disbelief. You nod with teary eyes, as your fingers work, hips buck messily against them. "Fuck, atta girl," he exhales. "Make it soaked, we'll see if I fuck your cunt with it next time."

His fist cups his dick tighter, pumping as more pre-cum starts to spill from the slit. His cock twitches in his hand, quickening the pace after every stroke, hips buck up to meet his fist.

"Wanna know if it is loaded?" he asks, breathlessly as he sinks deeper into the couch, trying to catch answer from your body — of course you do, even if another muffled whimper, slipped from your mouth, sounded like a no, the muzzle tries to force itself more into your mouth.

Your pussy clamps down tight around nothing, feeling dizzy as your body overwhelms you heavily, like a fucking mess cumming from the taste of his gun, the threat of him pulling the trigger and the sight his pumping fist that cups his dick tighter. His finger caresses the trigger, a threat that your eyes stare at, gleaming with fear while your hips buck against your fingers, shamelessly playing with your clit. Click! You wince, like a flash of pain just passed and your brains are blown all over the wall, just to realize nothing happened — for a second letting out a shaky exhale, not remembering when your eyes shut down. Oh right. You are out of it with trembling legs, so thankful you are not on your feet, and shaky, muffled whimpers against the muzzle.

Adrenaline probably, your body shakes like a newborn leaf during spring storms. Another click! Of course it is not fucking loaded and you just came because of this. His dick throbs, his ball tightens and Leon grunts. Fuck, too soon and he didn't even fuck you. Leon pulls away the gun, breaking the string of saliva that connects your mouth with the muzzle. The last memory of it, glistening in the badly illuminated room.

"Keep it open, dad is going to give you a real thing." Leon grunts impatiently, pressing the gun under jaw — easier to keep the angle.

The soft and plush skin of your lower lip connects with his tip, pressing it against your lips as if asking for a kiss. You don't hesitate, kissing the hot hardened flesh, smearing your lips with pre-cum like a new lipstick gifted by your step dad. Your tongue peeks out to taste the bitterness of him, before continuing peppering his dick with affection until he takes control in his hand, now slowly tracing the form of your lip with his tip, teasing himself for what is going to come.

His hips thrust, dick slides in easily until the tip doesn't knock against the back of your throat. The warm and wet heat of your mouth envelops it, your tongue flicks along the shaft enough to make him groan. His dick is not as heavy as a gun, tasting sweat and bitterness of pre-cum even more than it was on your lips. He rocks into your mouth, his cock is slick with all your excess saliva, sloppily moving out and back into your drooling mouth. With long strokes of his hips his dick knocks the back of your throat, enjoying the wetness of your tongue brushing along his sliding length. The constant stimulation of your tongue makes it too hard to stay still, it flicks on his tip at every back and forth movement of his cock, which is enough to remind himself how close he is. And you can feel it acutely, your tongue traces the shape of him, the prominent vein of his cock doesn't hide that fact, you can feel it pulse as a clear signal he is about to come in your mouth.

His balls tighten painfully, Leon wants to prolong this, to savor your lips stretching around his cock, maybe even pull back to fuck your cunt, surely slick folds would feel even better, tighter while he'd press the gun against your head. Or even better, to fuck you with it, rubbing it across your dripping folds to coat it well before pushing it inside you. The muzzle presses harder against your skin in a shaky grip. Click! Your throat clenches around his dick as it slid deeper briefly, like you forgot it is not loaded. This only fuels his quick approaching orgasm.

And that's hot; your eyes tearing up at slightly deeper angles than before, a brief second of your throat tightening around his cock was enough for Leon. The gun falls down on the floor, a loud ignored thud from both of you. He tenses up as his hips roll forward into your mouth, a last attempt to bury your face against his pubes, not that successful. His eyes rolling back before his dick starts spilling the load of sperm in your mouth, keeping himself still and focusing on the overwhelming warmth of your mouth around him. With a heavy gaze he is watching your messy face, glistening eyes directed at him, your lips stretched around his cock, drooling down onto the floor and sloppily taking him so well. Your throat bobs as you keep swallowing.

With a loud wet pop, his slowly softened dick slips out of your mouth. Your head falls lazily to rest on the inner side of his thigh, half-lidded gaze is still directed to him; your lips are puffier than before, glistening with the saliva. When Leon notices your breath starting to slow down, like you are about to fall asleep, he clears his throat, adjusting himself.

"Come here." His hand waves towards him.

"Mm?" You even sound like you are not here, already a step away from falling asleep.

"Come on, I'm going to tuck you to bed," Leon says, tugging you up on his lap, ignoring your light frown and mumbling full of annoyance, like he ruined your sleep. He kinda did, but before he fucked your face.

"I was fine there, Leon." You yawn, your arm rests on his back, head falls into the crook of his neck. Leon shakes his head, his hand rubs your back.