fairybones @f41ryb0nes - Tumblr Blog

⌖ unconventional methods ⌖

USSTRATCOM was hell, and brutal training made many recruits desperate to blow off steam. For you? That resulted in earning the title of barracks bunny.

But Leon? You liked him too much to reduce him to a notch on your belt, so you avoided him as much as you could since he caught on. Easier said than done being Krauser's top two recruits.

And Krauser? Nothing got past him. He knew exactly what had you both distracted, and he knew how to fix it.

ao3 ⌖ wc: 14.5k ⌖ insp part _ of three’s company

tags: Leon Kennedy/Reader/Jack Krauser, m/f/m smut, cisfem!reader, mostly leon/reader but also spitroasting, repressed feelings, p in v, creampie, degradation, slut shaming, begging, orgasm denial, cockdrunkenness, overstimulation, hair pulling, voyeurism, krauser backseat gaming from the cuck chair, krauser is a sadist, boot kink, dacryphilia, corruption?, slapping, choking, knife play, extremely dubious consent/noncon (reader enjoys/is non-resistant but the dove is in hospice, you’ve been warned)

a/n: I would like to apologize to feminism and also to god. wc is like 80% spice

Personal lives are nonexistent for the poor souls who train at USSTRATCOM; in fact, they’re outright forbidden. But the human will is a stubborn thing, and experiencing constant, extreme conditions makes many recruits willing to do extreme things to fulfill any personal desire at all. Whether it be sneaking a book to their bunk or rubbing one out in the showers, there’s only one rule: don't get caught.

But none are more stubborn than you and Leon Kennedy. It's why you’d each survived the experiences that landed you in military custody in the first place. You’re too stubborn to fail, too hard-headed to die. At least that’s what Krauser always says; that that’s how you both so quickly rose to be his two most-promising recruits

But being on Major Krauser's pedestal came with crippling pressure to keep ahold of his fickle approval. Every trainee lives under his constant scrutiny, and no slip-up is too small to go unnoticed. And his attention, good or bad, isn't something anyone wants to have.

Krauser stated his goal explicitly on the very first day of training— "I will break you" —and he makes good on that promise every single day. Those who he sees as weak are given extra drills and rounds in the fighting ring until they puke from overexertion, and those he believes in are pushed past their limits, resulting in the exact same end.

So to say that you’re stressed would be a laughable understatement, and you blow off steam in equal measure when you can. And since you’re constantly reduced to nothing but a primal instinct to survive, your vice of choice is somewhat primal as well.

You’re a classic barracks bunny. Sue you for having needs, but there are worse things to be. Besides, all female recruits are on a steady diet of birth control, so the number of risks are relatively few.

Leon, however, didn’t exactly seem to approve. He never brought it up, but you once locked eyes with him as you snuck out of the men’s barracks, and it didn’t take a genius to guess what you’d been doing there at such a late hour. He’d never make you feel bad about it, and you hardly had time to dwell on it in the scarce minutes of the day not spent training or sleeping, but you were sure you caught a sour look of disapproval in his eyes.

You and Leon were once as close to friends as anyone could be in a hellscape like USSTRATCOM, so if you’re being honest, yeah, you’re a bit embarrassed that he’d caught you like that, and you haven’t been able to fight off the pangs of guilt you feel in his presence now. So although the topic has gone untouched, it's been a little tense between you ever since; just enough to notice but not enough to address.

Besides, the kind of tension is the only thing that’s new between you and Leon. Tension sprouted within the very first days of group training and had grown ever since, and other people noticed, too. They all chalked it up to being competitive rivals, but it was anything but that.

You have the fattest, most hopeless crush on him ever. Hell, you’re one bad day or BOW incident away from admitting that you’re in love.

That’s what makes you feel so guilty about the subtle glint of disappointment you keep finding in Leon's gaze now. Wondering what he thinks about you makes you beyond anxious, and you doubt you'll ever have the time or courage to find out.

There’s a reason you sneak off into nearly everyone's barracks but his, after all: you like him far too much to seek him out for a quick and dirty indulgence. Leon means far more to you than a notch on your belt, and you wouldn’t be able to stand it if you put yourself in a position where he categorized you as a hookup and nothing more.

But what cuts the most? Assuming he feels disappointed in you might be wishful thinking. He most likely thinks you’re a whore, that you’re reckless and irresponsible, probably shares all the typical judgments you know get whispered behind your back.

Honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if he hates you with how he’s been acting cold.

So despite how much you want him and how often you imagine his face while someone else is balls-deep inside, you’ll never invite yourself into his room, much less admit your feelings for him. Plus, it’s kind of comforting to pretend sleeping around will help you get over your crush.

But your vice of choice has more consequences than those of emotional repression. You have to sacrifice a non-insignificant amount of your already scarce sleep hours to sneak around— and today, the exhaustion has finally caught up to you.

Your aim isn't as sharp, you don't anticipate the most obvious counterattacks, and you’re all-around slower on your feet. Careless mistakes that are totally unlike you, big and small. And no matter how hard you try to muster your strength and focus, dammit, you just can’t stop fucking up.

And none of it got past Major Krauser. That results in him keeping you late for after-hours training, but he isn't one to make a recruit suffer alone. Knowing you’ve dragged someone else into it is a part of the punishment in itself.

So naturally, being the top two recruits, he chose Leon to join you. Just your fucking luck.

That's how you find yourself here in the indoor ring somewhere after 23:00 hours, the air pushed from your lungs as you crash back-first onto the floor with a knife against your throat for the umpteenth time in a row.

Krauser is seriously a sick bastard for making you spar with sharpened weapons, by the way, but that isn't breaking news. Just another "privilege" that comes with being his top recruits.

Leon never goes easy on you, either, but this feels different. Like he really does hate you and is taking his frustrations out with each painful blow to your body. The idea doesn't help you focus, and it isn't long before another miscalculation sends you back against the ground, staring at your tired eyes in the reflection of a knife that would've gouged them out in anyone else's hands.

"You're tired. It’s pathetic. You think the enemy will care that you didn’t get your beauty sleep?”

“No, sir,” you reply through a wheeze as you try to recover your breathing.

“Again.”

Despite your screaming muscles and the tiredness clouding your head, you stand up at once. You make yourself small as you shift your weight between your feet, poised to move wherever you’ll need to. As your combat knife shines in the gymnasium lights where you hold it in front of you, raised within your fist, you look Leon dead in the eyes and gear up for yet another fight.

“Go!”

Leon beats you to the opening move. You dodge to the side. For some reason you put your fucking hand out to block him, and it does nothing to stop his knee from reeling straight into your gut.

You cough and sputter but remain on your feet, stepping back to create a touch of distance to calculate your next move. But you’re more tired than ever now, and your body can’t keep up with your brain.

As riled up as Leon is, the late hours are getting to him, too.

In a second, he came at you again with a strong left hook. Too stong for an opening blow, especially with a fist instead of his weapon. At last, you see an opening for attack.

You use his momentum against him, pulling him through by the wrist. He twists sideways to stay upright, and needing to adjust your own balance, you send a sharp kick onto his back. Your eyes widen with adrenaline as it lands just as harshly as you intended; the upper hand finally seems within your reach.

Or not. He hooks an arm around the back of your knee while your other leg is still mid-kick, and with nothing more than a shove to your chest, you’re on the ground again, pinned in the exact same position as before.

“Absolutely disgraceful,” Krauser barks. “You’re distracted, rookie.”

You blink once at Leon who’s looking down at you with a similarly confused expression. Although you both fit the title, ‘rookie’ has long since been exclusively reserved for Leon. But you were the one who was called here tonight to be punished; why was Krauser drilling him?

Your knit brows turn to widened eyes as Leon attempts to rise but is stopped by a boot on his back.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind, pretty boy?”

It’s clearly a trap question, and the pet name is laced with anything but admiration. Leon purses his lips and opens them as he attempts to think of an acceptable answer, but he’s obviously at a loss. You wonder what sadistic plan Krauser has in store as he awaits Leon’s response, and you grow somewhat fearful for the younger man.

Though he speaks with a sure tone, Leon only manages a single word, like he thinks he can get around it by gathering more information first.

“Sir?”

Krauser adding weight to his stance on Leon’s back is all it takes to know it didn’t work.

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“No, sir,” you and Leon say in unison.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Krauser spat in your direction.

“Then tell me,” Krauser continued, his attention returning solely to Leon, “why you’re face-to-face with what’s distracting you, and you can’t tell me what it is. Do you think I haven’t noticed?”

You get halfway through the thought of “noticed what?” before Krauser pushes Leon down further, so close that the wispy ends of his bangs brush against your cheekbones. You gulp against the knife that still hovers over your neck, but the sharpened edge doesn’t make you feel nearly as nervous as whatever the fuck is happening right now.

You’re used to being in close proximity with Leon in training, but this is entirely different. It’s intimate. Uncomfortably so. It makes your head spin too fast to think about what Krauser just implied.

Instead, your attention is preoccupied with avoiding Leon’s eyes like you’ve been doing for weeks now, but with him this close-range, he’s everywhere, so close that your eyes threaten to cross. You can see every pore on his nose, the moles that constellate his neck, the lines in his forehead where he’ll have wrinkles in ten or so years.

God, he even looks good this up close and personal. Every detail makes your heart skip and your ears get hot, even in a nerve-racking situation like this. Even when you look away from his stupidly beautiful face, all you can see are his biceps straining as he holds himself over you, flexing against his shirt as he holds himself up against Krauser’s unyielding boot.

Your adolescent anguish is cut short by Krauser’s attention returning to you.

“That’s why you’re so tired today, isn’t it? From being in this position?”

Oh. Oh no.

A cold wave shoots through you as you realize what all of this is really about. Of course word got around about your late-night escapades; you just didn’t think it’d find its way to Krauser unless he caught you in the act. You now know what a fool you were for ever thinking that.

Krauser and Leon are by far the last people you're ready to address it with, and Krauser just had to bring it up while he keeps you pinned inches beneath the latter.

It has to be some kind of divine punishment. This is the absolute worst-case scenario. Far worse than you ever could've imagined. The only place to hide is behind the refuge of your eyelids, so you squeeze them tightly shut.

Krauser keeps on twisting the metaphorical knife with a devious laugh that rumbles in his chest.

“You’re awful quiet, rookie. Not gonna defend your lady’s honor? Or, don’t tell me… are you the only one she hasn’t fucked?”

Your heartbeat turns into a war drum that threatens to beat through your ribs. You're sure Leon can feel it thrum in the air between you. You pray to god in all his mercy to open the ground and swallow you whole, but no such thing will happen.

Leon, however, is praying to a wrathful god to smite Krauser where he stands. He can’t handle it. The humiliation, the intentional offensiveness. The stunning accuracy. Being confronted with it in such a demeaning way. He could maybe take it on the chin if it'd only been about himself, but Leon has long since become protective of you, and he carries your degradation as if it's his own. It's the perfect setup to make him seethe, and Krauser pushes him further with every syllable.

“I asked you a question. Have you fucked her or not?”

Leon’s chest becomes thick with heat as his rage dials up to a fever pitch, nostrils flaring and knuckles whitening around the combat knife. It's hardly at your neck anymore, but you're keenly aware of it.

You're beyond uneasy, but you can’t do anything. You can’t move except to squirm, you don’t have a white flag to raise, and you don’t dare speak out of turn. Anything you say right now won’t be helpful anyway; you’re ultimately the reason you three are here, and any attempt to deescalate would absolutely be thrown right back in your face.

You scream internally to Leon as you see his anger dial up to ten, hoping he’s close enough that if your thoughts are simply loud enough they’ll be able to reach him.

Don’t put yourself on the line for me, you think over and over. But telepathy doesn’t happen to be a weapon in your arsenal, and Leon seldom possesses the ability to bite his tongue. So however reckless it might be, he tries to change the subject by steering it towards an argument.

“Go fuck yourself, sir.”

You wince as you prepare for Krauser to skin him alive, but to your surprise, he doesn’t take the bait. Leon avoiding the question is answer enough, so Krauser coolly clicks his tongue, and his level-headedness makes the situation all the more terrifying.

“Just as I thought. Is that why you threw all those haymakers? Want to keep pinning her down just to get a taste? You know damn well that won’t work on the field.”

It’s insane, the way Krauser can tie anything back to training, but his words hit right where he aimed them, and it’s Leon’s turn to be unable to face you as he tries to keep his cool. Tough work, since Krauser’s on a roll.

“She’s obviously easy; why haven’t you just asked her, Kennedy?”

Leon’s jaw sets tighter.

“Afraid that she’d reject you?”

Krauser hits a bullseye. It’s all too clear now that humiliation is Krauser’s goal, and neither of you can leave without it being shoved down your throats. Watching Leon reel between emotions is giving you secondhand whiplash, but it’s only a few seconds before he grits his teeth and lets go of his dignity.

“Because I—” he swallows hard, “I like her, sir.”

The confession hits you like a battering ram, and for a moment, the room is so quiet your ears ring.

He doesn’t hate you. He likes you. A part of you could cry you were so happy, but with the situation at hand, how could you possibly be content? It brings on a wave of emotions that surfaces all the ones you’d been shoving down for months.

Feelings like that are impossible to foster in a hellhole like this. Sleeping around is one thing, but romance? What could even come of it being mutual? For those reasons and many more, you’d accepted it being hopeless a long time ago. And now that Krauser knew— and had apparently set this all up because he’d known for a while— you were now sure that he’d brought you here just to murder your dreams in cold blood.

So there you and Leon lay on top of each other, no warmth or sweetness about it, faced with each other as symbols of your failures to cope. All you can do is wait for Krauser to rip your hearts out and incinerate them so they’ll never distract you again.

“What a goddamn sweetheart,” Krauser tuts, shaking his head. “You’re too soft. And you’re letting it get in the way instead of taking the clear fucking solution.”

The air goes still as you brace for whatever twisted “solution” he might have in mind, mentally preparing to run drills until sunrise or engage in some sick psychological simulation where you’d come to hate each other. Either would be perfectly up Krauser’s alley.

You were once again a fool to think you could predict him. You never would have expected what happened next.

He crushes his boot into Leon's lower back until his navel is fixed solidly against your center. Hissing at the sudden contact, Leon swiftly pushes away as much as he can, but it isn’t much; although you aren’t quite face-to-face anymore, the Major’s full bodyweight keeps Leon’s lower half trapped flush against you.

Startled astonishment washes over your face as you realize what exactly it is you feel pressed against you: at some point during tonight’s training, Leon got hard. You hadn’t noticed, but Krauser apparently did.

Oh my god you feel like an idiot. You were too distracted by your fucking feelings to notice that he was hard. What the actual fuck.

You’re trying not to panic. You’re exactly where you want to be, but it’s in the least conceivable scenario possible. You scan Leon’s face wildly to find some sort of confidence in him that you can hold onto, a muscle memory of the looks you’ve often exchanged to get through training, but he’s just as frantic as you are as he tries to stay still, to not move an inch against you.

Leon is very keenly aware of the fact that you didn’t ask for this, haven’t said that it’s okay, and the shame he feels at his exposed arousal sits like a death grip around his neck. He has no reason to think you were even interested in him; you hadn’t said anything since whatever the fuck this is began— and if you didn’t want it, what could you even do about it? It felt like a noose around his neck, and Krauser kept dragging him by it, tightening the rope with each syllable he spoke.

“Close encounters really do it for you, huh? You like holding a pretty girl down, feeling her struggle against your cock? Maybe you’re not such a boy scout; you’re more like me than you think.”

Any thoughts you had about his statement went in one ear and out the other as Krauser moves his heel to rut Leon back and forth against you, grinding his cock smoothly and firmly against your clothed cunt. You nearly choke at the electric current it sends rushing through your core.

Even though Leon isn’t moving on his own accord, even if the inner war he’s waging against himself is written all over his face, he’s pressed so staunchly against you that you feel every twitch of his cock as it grows harder.

It shouldn’t send a rush of thrill through you, but it does.

You bite your lip as another ebb of downward pressure increases the friction and makes the feeling too bright to ignore. Just as Leon can’t help his body reacting to yours, you’re resistless to the way you unconsciously arch into him.

“Don’t be so shy. Look at her, she likes it.”

That makes Leon finally look at you head-on, and your face floods with a blush so hot it burns, because it’s undeniably true. You did like it. It felt good. A mental hell alongside physical heaven, but heaven nonetheless.

His hips grind into your core again—shaky, but this time of his own volition— before he raggedly whispers, "Do you…? Do you want me?”

You struggle to keep the intensity of his gaze, but you know what he’s really asking for: the truth. You try to show as much surety as you can as you nod your head against the padded ground, sharing it like a lifeline.

“Y-yeah. Yes.”

Krauser interjects with an eye roll and his trademark condescension. “You’re still too goddamn soft. You still have a knife in your hand, for god’s sake, that’s all the permission you need.”

Twisted fucking bastard, Leon thinks, his grip tightening around the hilt of the blade where he holds it beside your head. He stares straight into your eyes with an intensity that says he isn’t readying it for you. Your gut churns all the same.

Luckily for you both, the major moves on from it. His boot leaves Leon’s back and he shudders in relief, exhaling deeply as he’s able to part his body from yours.

It’s a short-lived reprieve as a broad shadow falls from overhead. Krauser looms from above with menacing casualness, thumbs hooked in his belt loops as he cocks his head in amusement.

"Go on, then. Kiss her."

You freeze in place and watch Leon as you remain stuck under him, breathlessly waiting to see if he takes the opportunity, heart pounding as you wonder if he should.

Leon hardly pauses. An order is an order, and he’s getting used to that, as unconventional as they may be. He huffs, leans in halfway, and then retracts another inch; knits his brows together and shakes his head, either deciding against it or shaking off his last bits of resistance. You couldn’t tell which, at least not until he suddenly closes the distance.

It's the gentlest kiss you've ever received. His plush and impassioned lips skim lightly over yours as he still struggles to take what he so clearly wants. And god, you want him too, and you lift your chin in an attempt to press your mouths closer together, but it’s no use; he retreats just enough to leave you attached by the cupid's bow and a brushing of noses.

Krauser is less than impressed by the soft display. Gripping Leon by the crown of his hair, he admonishes, "I said kiss her, rookie," and all but crushes his face into yours.

You inhale sharply as Leon's lips fuse together intensely with your own. He twitches in surprise, grinding into you again inadvertently. The friction evokes a needy rasp from him, lips parting from the sound just enough for your tongues to meet— fleetingly at first, then reckless and deep as passion wins out against restraint.

Leon grinds again, this time with intention as you start to melt into each other, having nowhere to go but further into each other’s bodies. Krauser's hand leaves Leon's scalp as he becomes pleased, finally, with his energy. He circles like a shark as he keeps a watchful eye.

Leon becomes more intense as he gains full room to move on his own, like the levee broke for his desire to surge violently and freely, a desire that’d been held back for months of anguish.

The knife he’d held became forgotten on the ground as his hands grasped for you without instruction, shakily at first, then fervently all around you. His calloused fingertips run across your jawline and down your neck before roaming to your breast, but he doesn't squeeze, not until you arch to push into him yourself.

It instantly gives him permission to squeeze your flesh firmly, and every movement suddenly becomes urgent. Your tongues clash sloppily, his stiff bulge ruts back and forth against your core, and you can’t help but clamor for him in turn— your thighs hook tight around his waist to pull him further in, to help you relieve the growing pressure between your legs as your head becomes thick with need.

You nearly forgot Krauser was there at all until he speaks again with a gruff and low tone you've never heard from him before.

"Good. Keep going.”

You can't deny that someone else being in the room turns your brain somewhat mushy. In fact, it turns you on. You're adventurous, sure, but that's a shocking revelation even for you.

More shocking than that, the third party is your major, and he's telling Leon what to do as if he's giving normal orders. Those are ideas you'd laugh yourself sick at half an hour ago, but now here you are, and you feel your underwear slicken with each directive word and the ache to be permitted more.

But unbeknownst to you, that's the first of many things Krauser will awaken in you tonight. Right now, you don't even know how far he plans to take this. But you've spent months being primed to do whatever insane things he demands, and what you do know is that you'd do just about anything to earn more of the young man on top of you. So ever the good soldier, you let your commander lead you wherever he sees fit, and Leon does just the same.

“Take her top off.”

The cool gymnasium air contrasts with Leon's warm hand as it drags your shirt up your torso, leaving goosebumps in its wake as you shuffle to allow him to lift it over your head, lips parting only as long as they need to. Your top becomes discarded somewhere on the floor, forgotten before it lands.

You tremble under Leon's touch as he roams the soft curves of your stomach, gliding upward until he traces the top hem of your sports bra. He hooks his fingertips under the hem and pauses with trepidation, resting his forehead against yours as he bucks into you. By the look on his face, his trousers are becoming a painful confinement.

Leon waits for permission or to have the rug pulled from under him and be told this is all a sick joke, until Krauser gives the former. Just not before making him sweat first.

“You wanna fuck her, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Leon shudders while looking down at you, relishing the slightest touch he currently has on your body.

“That’s ‘yes, sir.’ How many times have you jerked off thinking about it?”

Leon gulps before answering, feeling every ounce as humiliated as Krauser intended him to.

“T-too many to count, sir.”

“Then take it off.”

It crosses your mind that no one’s asked if you’re fine with being stripped in front of an audience of two, but you’re not exactly apt to complain about Leon getting you naked.

Leon fumbles briefly with the tight elastic band before it’s whisked over your head and added to the growing collection of forgotten garments on the floor mat. You turn your head to the side, shying away as Leon takes in a full view of your nipples as they pebble in the cool air. But when you look to the side, your gaze lands on Krauser.

“Mistake” is your first thought. “Was it?” is the immediate second. All you know is that he’s leaned coolly against the edge of the arena rubbing his thick bulge through his pants as he watches intently. The sight makes you feel like you’ve caught on fire, and you quickly look away.

You have no more time to dwell on it as Leon pinches your nipple between his index finger and his thumb, rolling it between them with a reverent sigh at your reaction, then pulling it up and letting it drop. He repeats it on the other side, and your thighs clench around his hips as the stimulation goes straight to your core.

You can barely stand the teasing, and your hands find their way underneath Leon’s shirt. The feeling of his taut abs does nothing to quell you, though. It only drives home that the current sensations you’re being afforded aren't anywhere near enough. But right as you feel like you’re going mad, it all comes to a stop.

“Sit up, rookie.”

You whine as Leon does as he’s told, your hands leaving the heat of his stomach as he sits back on his haunches, , still with the exception of the labored rise and fall of his chest, his hands clasped behind his back, and your spit still wet on his lower lip. You’re left deprived of all touch, breathless and exposed, brows twisted up with neediness as you wait.

Krauser’s heavy and measured footsteps towards you are menacing. You don’t dare to look until he comes into view on his own, and from the steep angle up that you have, the large tent in his pants is imposing. It nearly obstructs his face as he stands directly over you.

“Pretty…” He hums as he appraises the skin that’s been exposed on you so far, and it’s perhaps the first kind thing he’s ever said to you. It sounds foreign in his voice, but then he goes right back to his usual demands. “Strip down, all of it.”

You hesitate for a brief moment before sitting up and unlacing your boots with shaky hands, all too aware of the eyes on you as you discard them and lay back down to fumble with your belt and zipper. It feels all the more exposing to be undressing yourself as opposed to it being done for you somehow, and you try to push away the feeling of awkwardness as you raise your hips and push your bottoms down in one go. You keep your knees together as much as you can as you foot them off of your ankles and kick them away beside you, and rest back down, now totally bare.

The cold air is nothing against the heat of their gazes as you lie there totally bare, awaiting the first touch. It comes from the rubber of Krauser’s boot as he parts your legs with it.

If Leon weren’t already on his knees, he would’ve fallen to them right then and there. He practically salivates as your pussy is revealed before him, and every nervous twitch of yours makes your wetness glisten in the fluorescent lights. His hands flex where they’re clasped behind him, and his throat tightens as his cock becomes painfully hard within his pants. Still fully clothed, he feels hot, far too hot, as the first traces of sweat begin to form on his skin from the sheer effort it takes not to dive into you.

Krauser hums at the sight of you and takes the toe of his boot to the soft crease where thigh meets ass, and lets the rubber press onto your flesh to pull your cunt open to them. You whine as you feel your slick pool out as your opening flutters for touch.

“Look at that,” Krauser muses. “No wonder everyone wants a taste. A pussy like that is just begging to be ruined. Isn’t it, Kennedy?”

What is Leon supposed to do here? Say he doesn’t want to ruin you for anyone else? It’d be a bold-faced lie, and he’d agree with just about anything Krauser says right now if it lets him get what’s being dangled right in front of him.

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Your cock even big enough to ruin her? Or is that why you haven’t gotten with her?”

For perhaps the first time in Leon’s life, he suddenly feels unsure. He’s never been insecure about his size before, never had a reason to be. He knows he’s well-endowed. But the major always has impossibly high standards. What if this is no different? What will happen if he doesn’t meet them now?

Leon gulps before answering with a shaky breath, although he tries to sound more sure. “Yes, sir.”

“Let’s see it then.”

Leon nearly gets cold feet, but seeing you spread before him is enough to throw his modesty to the wind. His fingers are clumsy in their quickness as he undoes his pants just enough to get his cock free, and he hisses at the contact of his fingers pulling it out by the base. He can’t stop himself from pumping it once between his fingers, but it takes nothing more than a disapproving glance from Krauser for him to put his hands back at his sides.

His fists become white-knuckled as his hardness hangs obstinately in the air. It’s framed by his still-on t-shirt falling over his navel, the waistband of his briefs sitting snugly under his balls, and his cock springing free between his parted zipper; not much skin is showing, really, but it’s all the more lewd a sight for it.

“Oh, shit,” is all you manage to breathe out.

Short, dark blond hairs silhouette the base, and his tip is an angry pink as it begins to shine with the emergence of a clear bead of precum. It hangs heavily in the air, jolting up once as he bites his lip in arousal, and you catch sight of the coursing vein that runs up the side. He’s long and so thick in girth, and your toes curl at the thought of him trying to fit it all inside of you.

God, what a fool you’ve been for jumping between barracks for sex that was often unsatisfactory and only a means to an end. All this time, you could’ve had Leon instead.

It’s an undeniably captivating sight, even for Krauser, who inhales through his teeth as he too takes it in with his eyes. But still, he isn’t one to give his praise so easily.

“Not bad. Let’s hope you know how to use it.”

You whine in surprise as Krauser suddenly fixes the toe of his boot into you and slowly circles around your clit, and Leon grimaces as he tastes copper from how hard he bites down on his lip.

“Because if you don’t,” Krauser taunts, “I’ll have to take over.”

Your pulse soars at the prospect, fear and arousal intertangling into one. Whether or not that’d happen lies entirely with Leon, but it could very well be a trap; the same as being told that training could end early if you do well enough, but no one can ever do well enough for Krauser. He gets too much sick pleasure in dangling hope over your head, fully knowing you’ll never reach it and enjoying watching you struggle to anyway, and this situation is no different.

A moan leaves your parted lips as Krauser presses his boot more firmly into your clit and rubs it left to right. He chuckles thinly at your response.

“She really is easy, soaking just from my boot. Fucking filthy.” He glides it up and down to literally rub it in, making your legs twitch as he presses into your clit, then looks at you and nods towards Leon. “You like what you see?”

“Mmhm,” you nod needily through pursed lips as you tremble under the crude ministrations against your pussy your eyes still fixed on Leon’s increasingly leaking cock.

He lands a soft kick to your clit, nowhere near enough to hurt, but enough to feel the threat and a sharp jolt of pleasure up your spine.

“Yes, sir,” you correct yourself breathlessly.

He spreads your slick a little more, purely playing with it now as he addresses Leon again.

“Don’t let it go to your head. How many cocks have been in here just since training started…? Bet this whore could cum just from my goddamn boot.”

Krauser finally steps back, leaving you shaking and untouched yet again, your lips pressed into a thin line as you pray the question remains rhetorical. It does, at least for you.

“But you don’t mind, do you, Kennedy? You like her enough that you’re alright with sloppy seconds? Thirds? Twentieths maybe..?”

Leon's chest flares. Your body count has never once factored into his envy. He just wants you— evidently, by any means necessary. And you being degraded like that? It stokes his anger all over again, and he once again fails to bite his tongue, the contempt clear in his tone as he speaks through a snarl.

“She’s the whore? You’re the one treating your recruits like a harem, sir.”

Krauser seizes Leon by the bangs, making the younger man yelp as he’s yanked forward by the hair until he’s on all fours in front of you, his face inches away from your cunt. Leon hisses as thick fingers pull viciously at his roots and shake his head in front of your center like a cruel owner admonishing a dog.

“Shut your goddamn mouth— put it to good use before I fuck her and make you watch.”

With no precursor at all, Leon is shoved face-first between your legs. You gasp in shock at the suddenness; with no prior warning for him to begin with any sort of finesse, he lands against you with panting, parted lips, his nose is squished down from the position, pressed just beside your clit.

It takes Leon a second to collect himself, though he does so as quickly as possible once he wraps his mind around his position, nose deep in the part of you he’s been starving for the most.

Krauser continues to hold him there harshly even as he begins to lap frantically.

“Where’s all that snark now, huh?”

Leon doesn’t answer— Krauser doesn’t pull him back for him to be able to— instead he moans hard at the taste of your cunt.

Your folds wetten with Leon’s spit as his face collects your arousal, and you whine continuously as he sloppily makes out with your cunt. Being constantly pushed into you makes each stroke of his tongue press firmly wherever it lands around and within the whole of your cunt. It drags up and down, drawing quick and sloppy circles around the expanse of your vulva and the soft skin between your lower lips, flicking over your clit at the top and darting fully into your hole at the bottom.

It’s so vulgar and divine, but it’s too intense too suddenly, and your thighs clamp down around Leon’s head. Krauser just presses him in even further and Leon sucks your clit in compliance, flicking his tongue against the bud inside the vacuum of his mouth, and you yelp and tense your legs harder around his face. But Krauser still has one hand free, and he uses it to hold you open by the knee nearest to him, and despite your whining efforts, his grip is far too strong to budge free of.

You groan in relief as Leon moves on from his onslaught of your clit and dig your nails into the padded floor as he assaults the whole of your core instead, all while Krauser keeps your legs spread wide for him.

The wet sounds of his tongue along with frantic moans from you both fill the room as you reel towards your seventh heaven, and Krauser can tell— of course he can. It’d be obvious to anyone that you’re on the brink from the way you increasingly arch against the floor. But the absolute sight of you isn’t the only thing that makes it obvious; you’re finding it increasingly difficult to muzzle yourself and you mumble pathetically between labored breaths.

“I– ah, ahhh, Leon fuck— oh-hh…”

And it’s borderline petulant the way you whine when Leon’s mouth leaves you all at once. Your head shoots up in shock at the loss, looking to see what caused your release to be denied, but nothing had happened except for Krauser’s cruel whim.

You’re equally shocked to see the look on Leon’s face. Still on all fours and held back by his hair, his mouth is swollen, pink, and shining with slick from the bridge of his nose to the cleft of his chin. His moans are light as if he’s breaking fever and his eyes are half-lidded like he’s drunk. His cock hangs neglected between his legs with a thick string of glossy precum connected from the head to where it’s dripped down to the floor. But the most shocking of all is the faint smile that pulls at the corners of his puffy mouth as Krauser pulls his hair a little tighter.

‘How’s she taste, huh?”

“Incredible, sir.”

“Yeah? You taste any cock still in there?”

Leon’s nostrils flare and his mouth opens into a snarl, but before he can spit whatever insult he has in mind, Krauser yanks his head back painfully and growls.

“Better watch that mouth, kid, or you’ll be eating my cum out of her next.”

Krauser sends him back on his knees with a shove to the head and then rises to stand again, jostling his hard-on thickly through his pants as yet another threat. “Or maybe I’ll shut you up another way, eh?”

The silent grimace on Leon’s face is much to Krauser’s amusement as he berates him with a smile, still stroking his bulge.

“That’s what I thought. Fucking ungrateful. I let you eat her out and you’re acting like a damn brat. You think I should let you fuck her? Huh?”

Swallowing his pride, Leon answers. “Please, sir.”

“That’s what I thought. Beg.”

That’s a demand Leon is a touch too stubborn to easily do. He clenches his eyes and grinds his teeth, still reeling from the lack of touch, and twitches restlessly as the words struggle to come.

But Krauser is impatient. He expresses it through a dull backhand to Leon’s cheek.

“That’s an order, Kennedy.”

Although the slap is ultimately harmless (and could even be considered kind compared to the many blows you’ve both received from the major throughout training), a sense of fear shoots through you. You suddenly realize just how badly this could end if it goes south. You’re still keenly aware that this began by sparring with real knives, a testament to how insane your instructor truly is.

But your wires are well and truly crossed, and although you tremble on the floor, it all feels thrilling just the same. You’re just as sick as Krauser, maybe, the way you ache for Leon to submit so he can give you what you need. Luckily for your throbbing heat and unluckily for Leon’s dignity, he complies.

“Please,” he begins through his teeth, “let me fuck her, sir.”

“You can do better than that. You’ve wanted this for how long…? Let her hear it.”

Your breath hitches at the thought that Krauser has seen what you couldn’t all this time. It’s reinforced by the way Leon hangs his head and his brows change from being knit with anger to upturning in a pained plea as he speaks straight into you.

“Please let me fuck her, sir. Wanted to for so damn long, I—” His cock twitches in the air as if to attest to it being true. “Wanna show her why she doesn’t need to sleep around, that I’d treat her better than all of them, that I am better. Tasted so good, she’s so— I just— fuck, I’d do just about anything, major, please.”

Leon looks up to search for a sign it’s good enough while you do a double take at such lewd words coming from his lips.

In a change of tone, Krauser speaks low and deliberately to the young man.

“You’re going to do exactly as I say. And I mean exactly. If not, I'll take over. You won't get to cum and I’ll make sure she never sneaks off into your bed. Understood?”

Leon nods rapidly and whispers the affirmative under his breath. Krauser nods once and turns around as he gives his first command.

“Take your shirt off and pull your pants down enough to do the job.”

As Krauser strides away, you and Leon shoot a look at each other behind his back. It’s perhaps your first unobserved moment of eye contact the entire day, you realize, and the brief moment seems to expand into something big and desperate and warm, like something that’s just yours. Then Krauser’s heavy steps land in the room and urge Leon’s hands to move.

Your eyes float down over his cut figure as his clothing finally joins yours on the floor. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, sure, but never with the opportunity to stare, and certainly never with his pants around his thighs.

Your knees subconsciously part ever so slightly at the whole of him; his ashen hair unkempt and askew from Krauser’s disrespect to it, the valleys and peaks of each muscle on his whole torso and arms, and the kind of cock you thought only exists in porn you have to pay for—all of it flushed pink with pent-up desire for you and you alone.

The abrasive whir of a zipper steals your attention. Your eyes flick to the side and you see the major lean against the wall at the edge of the combat ring, pulling his own cock free as he settles in to watch. You feel like you see something you shouldn’t have for some reason, even though you hardly see his dick at all— and you yourself are naked and dripping on the floor, how can you still be embarrassed? Still, you immediately look away with your heart hammering in your chest.

“Kneel between her legs. Don’t touch yourself.”

You part your legs to make room and the flush spreads up from Leon’s chest to his cheeks as he shuffles forward on his knees. He winces as the head of his cock grazes hot against your folds, but he doesn’t dare to do anything about it.

“Slap it with your cock.”

Leon shudders as he holds the base and brings his head down onto your plump clit twice, pauses briefly, and then does it again and again at Krauser’s encouragement. Wet plap plap’s fill the room along with the sound of you sputtering at the teasing.

You fight the urge to curl your hips to get him to push it in; you know he won’t and can’t until he’s given the go-ahead. But it’s torture for you both as Krauser gives him no further instruction for minutes. Only when you both strain and cry out like you’ll break does he give his next demand.

“Stop.”

Not the one you want. Leon’s hands claw into his thighs to keep them fixed away from himself, and you feel hot all over as the head of his tip rests heavily on top of your clit.

Tense and restrained, you push your luck and start grinding against it, careful not to move to much to avoid detection. But if nothing else, Leon’s whine gives it away. Krauser doesn’t seem to mind.

“What a cock-whore,” he says through a devilish smile as he strokes himself leisurely. “She’s just dying for it. You still sure you can satisfy her?”

Leon can only moan and nod in response, and for once, the lack of formalities is accepted.

“Put it in. Stop when you bottom out. Let’s see how much she can take.”

As sadistic and unorthodox as Krauser’s methods are, the results of them are undeniable in the way Leon follows his orders at once.

He rests a hand against your thigh, his thumb rubbing up and down on the soft skin soothingly, as his other guides his shaft towards your entrance. You hold your breath as it notches there, and he wastes no time before he steadily sinks in with a hiss.

“Good god, you’re tight,” Leon chokes out as the head slips past your entrance.

You nearly wheeze as it does, your nerves on fire as they’re delivered the feeling they’ve endured all the torturous teasing for. The long shaft of his cock is hot against your walls and heavy as each new inch settles in, his girth burning the tight tissues of your entrance as they try to accommodate it. Despite the struggle, you keen into him, all to eager to take more, totally forgetting that when he gets to the hilt, he’ll stop.

Three long, tempered drags of his cock and he’s finally flush inside of you. His eyes roll back as he stills there, breathing harder than ever as he fights against thrusting instinctually. Your legs twitch as you sit with the feeling of his fat tip flush against your cervix, your walls hardly accommodating the whole of his dick, at least not yet, and Leon squeezes your parted knees with a frayed and empathetic look.

“Oh, oh f-fuck…”

Leon wants—needs— more just as much as you, if not more than, but he tries to focus on enjoying what he's presently afforded, and tries not to so much as think about how close he feels to cumming entirely too early.

“Enough sniveling— fuck her hard.”

Leon feels a pang of regret. He'd thought of this moment so many times before, ran through it like a waking dream on lonely nights spent lying awake in his cot. He’d always imagined starting slow, making you cum on his tongue and fingers before he entered you gently to hear your pretty breathless moans; to cradle you in his arms as he rocks into your perfect cunt, to hold you tight and kiss you all over—

—But that never happened, and while he dreamed of making love to you, you were busy getting railed in another recruit's room. Sometimes within earshot.

It’s an easy command to follow; he'll take what he can get.

Leon withdraws almost entirely before snapping in to the hilt. You cry out as he crashes powerfully against your cervix and fills every sweet spot all at once, acute pain sitting right alongside the overwhelming pleasure as your cunt stretches to its limits around him.

“Oh f-fuck, Leon—"

You cry out as he does it again with even more force this time, crashing into you so brutally that you slide back on the mat, but he just grips your hips to pull you back to him to continue.

With each new punishing thrust his navel smacks loudly against your center, and you desperately grasp at his wrists to hold on as you take it, moaning feverishly until your body adjusts to accommodate the brute impacts he delivers. When you do, it leaves only a fierce and overwhelming pleasure, and you arch off the mat like an animal in heat, writhing into and away from the intensity simultaneously.

He develops a rapid-fire rhythm he grunts in time to. It takes so much effort to take that you quickly become covered in a thin sheen of sweat that has you sliding back on the mat all over again.

“Grab her wrists and pin her down.”

Leon does it instantly, nailing you in place with an iron grip, your wrists fixed on either side of your head. It brings a new angle that has his cock beating mercilessly against your inner sweet spot, and with your ability to move being limited, you moan shamelessly as you take the bombardment.

He can’t keep himself quiet either, though he tries— he babbles through wet lips and grinding teeth as his eyes roll back in his head.

“Oh fuck, baby. Your pussy’s so perfect, god…”

Every time you twist in pleasure he hits a new spot that makes you see stars, and when you push against his hands, the fact that he so easily cages you in makes it all the better. But sweeter than anything, him pinning you down makes you face-to-face with him again.

The faces he makes are plucked straight from euro porn, full of lust as his expression contorts with every wanton moan. His full lips are a plump and rosy pink, occasionally being wetted by his tongue flicking over them mindlessly as he works; his blown pupils making his eyes a darker, oceanic shade of blue that you ache to drown in.

You tip your chin up to try and kiss him. God, how you want to kiss him again. And you're so close together, if you could just—

He looks at your lips and slowly closes the difference, and then—

Krauser barks your name, and you're yanked right out of your immersion.

“Look at me.”

You hesitantly turn your head away from Leon and towards your major. Your throat feels thick as you do, and your mouth goes dry as you see what, in the back of your mind, you knew Krauser has been doing the whole time.

At some point he's taken his shirt off and he stands bare-chested some five feet away, leaning against the edge of the fighting ring with a wide stance, his posture emphasizing the sheer broadness of his build. He's pulled undone his pants enough to pull himself out and nothing more, and now you know that truly every inch of him is imposing as he strokes his large cock with a strong, persistent grip.

Even sheathed in his big hands, it looks fucking huge. Perhaps equal in length to Leon, maybe an inch shorter, but absolutely formidable in girth and decorated in thick, bulging veins. Your breath hitches as you watch him tug hard up the length of it, squeezing out a bead of precum before smearing it slowly back down his length.

Your eyes flit between Krauser’s face and his cock, each one too imposing to settle on. He smirks like he knows the look in your eyes, like many people before have cowered in fear at his size, like he enjoys the terror that flashes in your gaze.

“Tell me what you think,” he tells you, holding his cock up by the base as if he’s arrogantly raising a weapon.

You struggle to speak with Leon holding your jaw tight in his hands and his cock striking the deepest parts of you— I mean jesus, it’s hard to even think coherently with how he’s rearranging your guts. But you don’t want him to be stopped more than you feel queasy, so you attempt it.

“I-I… you’re– oh– uh, ahh, big, and—”

Mercifully, perhaps, Krauser interjects with a ragged chuckle. “Cock-drunk already, huh? Try again. Come on.”

You completely and totally are, and it becomes twice as difficult to speak as Leon puts more weight into his hips, forcing your legs wider and barraging his cock at an even deeper angle in, like fucking you harder is all he can offer to distract you in the event you're watching something you didn’t want to see.

Do you want to see it…? You really don't know. You'd never looked at your instructor through this kind of lens before, and only were now because you were being forced to.

You try again, blubbering through the drool that trickles down the corner of your mouth and onto Leon’s fingers.

“You’re… it’s… oh—”

The air is pushed from your lungs as Leon sends his next thrust into you with aggressive force, sending your head tipping back as your eyes roll and a loud, wet smack echoes off the gymnasium walls.

“So fucking useless…” Krauser grumbles. “Can’t take a little hard fucking without turning stupid? Choke her out, Kennedy; give ‘er a reason she can’t speak.”

With a grunt, Leon wraps a hand around the whole of your neck. Not enough to hurt, just enough to press you into the floor by it. Still, his ragged breath shakes in surprise at his own lack of hesitation.

He’s even more surprised that he doesn’t hate it and that you don’t seem to either. He tests the waters and squeezes a little tighter, drawing a strangled moan from you that clearly isn’t from pain.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he hisses in time with each thrust, swearing more at himself than anything.

He feels like he’s teetering on the edge of something dangerous. He shouldn’t think this is so hot. He could actually hurt you here.

Your cunt clamps down on him as you gasp, and something new washes over him. He grits his teeth and squeezes hard.

You sputter silently as your airway becomes constricted and something daunting builds in your core. Your pulse pounds in your skull as the oxygen in your brain grows stale and dies, you feel your muscles locking up, and you know you’d be moaning if you could make any noun at all.

Your vision slowly darkens around the edges, obscuring the vicious look on Leon’s face that sits in your periphery. In the center of the vignette stands the sight of Krauser’s hand working himself faster. Leon’s hold on your throat and the constant torrent against your inner walls are equally violent, and your pleasure grows violently in response. But all you can do is weakly keen into Leon’s cock as your body becomes completely flooded with unadulterated sensation.

“Slap her pretty face,” Krauser grunts.

Leon does. You’re barely cognizant enough to flinch and can hardly move enough to anyway, but it lands dully; not even enough to sting.

“Oh, don’t fucking insult me. Slap her.”

This time, your cheekbone blooms with heat in the wake of the rough calluses of his palm snapping against you.

“Harder.”

His hand crashes into your face and the whole room starts spinning.

You’ve taken countless blows to the face before, and many from Leon himself; you knew all too well how hard he could hit. Hell, you’d already have bruises tomorrow from the training session that led you here. But that blow landed utterly uniquely from any other you’d endured. No pain had ever caused this kind of disorientation.

Vision fixed on the voyeur and your cunt skewered on Leon’s cock, decreasing thoughts as your face tingles and your neck aches under a ruthless grip, lungs burning behind your ribs— clit swollen and oversensitive from each smack of Leon’s navel against it. Your eyes are bulging and body’s locking up, making your cunt grip around him tighter, pushing out a new surge of wetness around him—

Your vision darkens until all that’s left is the brute force of how good it all feels. Every ounce of pleasure and pain compounds into blindingly bright sensation, like white-hot lightning running through your every nerve, growing stronger and stronger as your faculties weaken.

Your face feels hot as you try in vain to gasp for air, hips working sloppily to try to meet Leon’s pace as he thrusts into your sweet spots over and over. Krauser speaks, but you don’t grasp the words until Leon’s free hand frantically connects with your clit.

“Look at that, she fucking loves it. Go on, make her cum on your cock.”

The grip on your neck lessens just enough to seize a rough gasp of new air as your orgasm rallies. Your back arches so acutely, you feel like Leon’s hold is the only thing stopping you from levitating. Krauser’s mumbling between barks of orders as you tear at the seams—

“That’s it, give her what she needs. Keep her eyes on me.”

Leon captures you by the cheeks to turn your face back towards Krauser. You breathe desperately and watch him while your hands reach haplessly for Leon, nails dragging everywhere they land as you steal ragged breaths through the nose. It’s all so good, so much, and god the mindfuck of it all— your eyes glued to Krauser jerking himself off while another man pistons his cock inside of you, like they're both being cucked somehow as your physical and mental attention is divvied between them.

It’s all just so insane— the fact that Krauser is getting off to you being split in half and manhandled by your opponent, telling him how and when to fuck you— like Krauser is the director and you and Leon are the stars of his own personal brand of violent pornography.

And it’s a role Leon plays well. He’s grown to be barbaric in his own right, a part of him no one including himself knew existed until now.

Krauser had that effect on his recruits, and apparently this was no exception: he’d made the rookie into exactly what he needed to be to rise to the occasion. And the result is animalistic, further evidenced as Leon licks a flat-tongued stripe up your jugular and bites down before growling into your hair through sharp teeth.

“Fucking feel me.”

His voice pulls the pin on the live grenade of your arousal, and in seconds flat, you combust.

Your orgasm hits you like a devastating blow to the core, tearing through your body as if somewhere within your center an atom had split in half. You writhe like you’re dying, and high-pitched moans flood out of your pursed lips that are still squeezed taut in Leon’s grip. He has to hold you even tighter just to keep you from falling away, and he puts a hand on your stomach with weight that lets you both feel each time he bulges through your stomach.

The cracking sounds of his hips connecting with your cunt become wetter and more crude as you gush around him with each shockwave of seizing bliss. Leon starts falling apart himself, moaning wildly as you tighten around him like a vice. He looks down to see the base of his cock covered in the creamy white slick of your cum, and that's enough to make him see stars.

“Oh fuck, jesus fucking christ I’m—“

Cruel as ever, Krauser makes his next command.

“Stop.”

Leon is in a full breakdown as he tries to; he lets go of you to claw his nails into the ground, pained sounds ripping from his chest as he struggles to keep still, but he can’t keep his hips from twitching forward to save his life. He was so close to cumming and he has to force himself not to as he keeps himself bottomed out again, a guttingly difficult task as your walls continue to pulse around his cock as you come down from your high.

The stakes heighten as Krauser approaches with heavy boot steps, and Leon’s whole body strains as he fights to comply before he gets there. Leon swears under his breath as the tendons in his neck clench and small veins begin to pop against his temple, grabbing your weak body by the hips to fix you on his cock instead of fighting the involuntary jolts of his hips.

“Fuckfuckfuck, m’sorry, I’m t-trying, ahh…”

Krauser stands over you again, pumping his sturdy dick in a firm but leisurely grip at the absolute sight of you two. You can only imagine how obscene you must look lying numb and weak on the ground— you’re still panting as you come down from your high, your wild hair sticking to your sweaty neck and forehead, fucked-out and used with Leon’s cock still stuffing you full while you let your major jerk off above you.

But as downright shameful as you look and feel, Krauser takes his sweet time soaking it in, enjoying the unfiltered vulgarity of it as he pumps himself a hair faster.

You’re grateful for the time to catch your breath, sure, but the longer you’re there, the more his attention burns. As seconds roll by, your sweat cools uncomfortably on your skin, you regain enough feeling in your body to feel a small amount of what it’s been through, but most of all, you become more aware of where you and Leon connect.

Your orgasm made you twice as sensitive, and the lack of motion is as maddening to you as it is for Leon as he throbs inside your walls. You can’t help but to squirm around for relief, and you can’t help but to moan as the movement drags the head of his cock against your g-spot.

“Jesus, you still want more? Is one cock not enough? Should’ve fucking known,” Krauser tuts, twisting his fist around the wide base of his dick. “You’ve always been tough. Shoulda known you wouldn’t break so easily. Always making me get my hands dirty…”

He pushes Leon to lean back and out of the way for a thick droplet of spit to fall from Krauser’s lips all the way down to your clit. You jolt at the sensation of it landing, but it doesn’t compare to when Krauser drops to one knee and rubs it in with two firm fingertips.

He massages his spit into your clit with rough fingerpads that move in tight and steady circles, building you towards another bout of sensory overload with calculated precision. You look rapidly between Krauser and Leon and your own body through wet lashes, frantically trying and failing to get a grip.

It’s all too much, but somehow, it isn’t enough. You need Leon to move like you need air to breathe.

“Nnhg, m-major…” you moan hesitantly

“What?” he says dryly, as if he isn’t causing your undoing. You only manage a throaty whine in response, and he chides you by increasing his speed on your clit. “Speak.”

You try, but your words are bracketed by thick heaving breaths. “Hhha, I… oh, ahh…. p-please…”

Krauser leaves his weighty cock to hang in the air as he adds his other hand to your body, staring at you intently as a high pitched shriek gets caught in the back of your throat. He pinches your nipples one by one before flicking them each sharply, matching his rhythm on your clit, stimulating every part of you continuously. He just smirks as your brain melts in your skull, your mouth falling open with nothing comprehensible coming out of it.

“Please what?”

You squirm in an attempt to lessen the overwhelming feeling, but he doesn’t falter once, only leaving your clit to dip his fingers around either side of Leon’s shaft to gather your wetness to slicken your sore nub. Leon sputters at the brief yet unexpected feeling and he bucks into you so deep you both choke.

“F-fuck, I… I need… ahhh,” you whine hard, your head flying back on the ground.

“You can take it. If you’re not gonna use your words, then be quiet.”

You really do try and stay quiet at that, biting your lip so hard you think you might taste blood, but you just can’t.

You can still feel Leon pulsating inside of you, can still hear the sweet sounds of his agonized grunts as you’re brought back to the brink. Leon holds your hips tight for his own sake so he doesn’t cum before he’s allowed, his fingers pressing deeply into your soft flesh to keep you from bucking into him more than you already are, and the dull pain where his short fingernails dig in just add to it all. You’re trembling severely, the meat of your thighs shaking uncontrollably, and it all just feels too good.

All at once, Krauser pinches a nipple painfully and strums you so quickly his hand blurs, and you all but fucking scream.

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Krauser snarls and removes his touch altogether.

It’s easier to swallow your sounds as the sensation fades, but the damage has already been done. Your vision swims as Krauser grabs the since-forgotten combat knife and tosses it to Leon before kneeling beside your head.

Leon catches it on pure instinct and stares dumbfoundedly at it in his hands.

Krauser frames your face with his thighs and his cock becomes inches away from your face. Close enough to see every short wheat colored hair on his navel, every vein that courses up his substantial width; close enough to smell the salt on his skin, even.

He guides it to stroke the length of it overtop your plush, drool-covered lips.

It’s fucking denigrating, the way he does it, dragging his cock over your face with a gruff hum as he holds you in place by the crown of your hair. The shocked face of shame you wear only makes him leak with pre.

Krauser hooks his fingers behind your bottom teeth and pulls your mouth open to slap his tip against your tongue, and you shudder at the sweet taste of his precum. Then he lets go and notches the tip between your puffy lips.

Leon watches with the knife still in his hands, a quiet horrification in his tone as he speaks.

“Sir…”

“Hold it against her neck,” Krauser answers like it’s nothing, “or I’ll do it.”

Krauser plugs your mouth with his cock at the same time that cold steel meets your neck.

Leon watches the sight wide-eyed and disturbed. This is going too far, he thinks— but he’s gone too far to stop himself, too.

Krauser is clearly getting off to the sight of you being borderline assaulted, and Leon is a partner to it. He’s the one holding the flat of a blade to your jugular while your superior sodomizes you, the one who’s still struggling not to cum and wishing he could fuck you fully again. He’s already an accomplice, or more accurately at this point, a willing participant.

He thinks now that Krauser might’ve actually been right, that in these ways they’re alike. It horrifies him and shatters his self-image, but his cock aches with need regardless.

You’re mindless to it all as you start to suck Krauser off. Your lips struggle to stretch around his girth, your whines are muffled as you take more and more, and you feel so fucking dirty that you rock into Leon without thinking.

Fuck, you’re actually enjoying this. A lot.

‘Maybe I am a whore’, you think as your toes curl against Leon’s calves— but how could you possibly care about that right now? You don’t, and you can’t— all you can think about is making Krauser fit inside your mouth so he’ll let Leon keep going.

Leon is harder than he’s ever been in his life, another fact that has him dumbstruck with himself. He even envies the man for getting to stuff his fat dick past your pretty lips, for being the one who’s making your face twist up like it is.

But the final nail in his moral coffin? The sight of you slowly being face-fucked, struggling to suck such a big dick with enthusiasm, while he holds a knife to your neck… it brings him right back to the edge of release. Not in spite of it— because of it.

So when Krauser tells Leon to fuck you again with a reminder not to cum until he’s given permission, he does it without a hint of hesitation.

When he does, you’re no longer on planet earth; you’re floating somewhere above it, your senses more overloaded than ever. It takes focus you barely have to keep Krauser’s girth from hitting your teeth as he picks up speed to roughly fuck your face.

Krauser alternates between striking the back of your throat and holding your chin down to push it against the inside of your cheeks, watching his head bulge out your face before continuing his assault on your throat, using your mouth like exactly the kind of whore he’d made you out to be. All while Leon delivers blunt thrusts, each one thumping against the most electric spots inside your cunt, and each harsh snap of his hips cracks in the room like lightning.

And every few seconds you feel the flat of the blade bump against your neck, a chilling reminder of the control you’re under.

Krauser truly is a goddamn psychopath. That’s never been more evident than now. But it fills you with a certain thrill to be at the mercy of a certified killing machine and his most promising rookie. Both of them are more than capable of causing you serious injury right now, but all their brawn and might is being utilized to ruin you in a way that feels good, and it’s the best, most exhilarating experience you’ve ever had.

Maybe you’re all psychopaths. Maybe Krauser’s promise on the first day of training held a particular purpose for you and Leon. Perhaps the training broke you long ago, and at some point you couldn’t place, he’d reassembled your bleeding hearts into corrupted, submissive subjects, ones perfectly crafted for him to play with, to even enjoy his sadistic demands.

Tears prick at your eyes as Krauser presses himself as far as he can go into your mouth and you choke around him. He’s too thick to take so deeply, and your throat seizes up in rejection. He slaps your cheek just enough to feel it sting as he forces you to keep trying.

“That’s it, choke on it, bitch.”

And choke on it you do, with horrible sounds emanating from your throat as he likely bruises it. Your hands grasp for nothing at the overwhelm and Krauser pins the arm nearest to him under his knee, and Leon holds the other down by the bicep before Krauser even looks at him.

“There you go, now you’re fucking behaving,” Krauser pants at you both. “My two most obedient soldiers… hah.”

A thick string of spit connects your lips to Krauser’s tip as he pulls out suddenly, giving you a chance to gasp for air. He slaps its weight against the red welts in the shape of Leon’s hand on your cheek, making the sore skin shine with spit. Your tongue lolls out on its own and he goes right back to skull fucking you, holding you firmly by the sides of your head to keep you at the right angle.

You moan as his cock vein drags up and down your wet, flat tongue as he thrusts in and out decisively, and your eyes roll back as he starts working your nipples again, catching them in his fingertips as they recoil with Leon’s thrusts.

Leon can’t help it; he can’t stop watching. It brings him closer than ever to breaking. His orgasm has been denied so many times when he’s right there on the edge, and the thought of holding it back again is devastating. So all on his own, he begs.

“Krauser, please, let me… let me cum, sir. I need to, I need—“

And Krauser is all too aware of his staring.

“You like watching me use her mouth that much? Gonna get off to it while you have a knife to her neck? You’re a sick fuck, kid.”

Leon chokes out a sob at the fact and that his plea went totally ignored. But looking between you, Krauser falters too, and he pounds your moaning mouth more wildly.

“Fuck, you’re both crying. You two are so damn dirty.”

Krauser grunts, and nearing his own edge, he makes sure to bring you with him. He reaches over to wedge his hand between you and Leon’s bodies to rub your sopping clit again.

You try to writhe, but you’re too pinned down, and too big of a movement sends your jugular dangerously close to the knife. All you can do is take it, teary eyed and pliant, trembling like an earthquake as you near another peak.

Leon whines as Krauser dips his fingers down to your cunt, but this time, they don’t pass there just to collect your slick. He keeps them fixed around Leon’s cock while he cups your pussy, and each time Leon thrusts, his shaft passes through the tight friction of his fingers.

He braves a glance down at where you all connect and god, it is dirty, just like Krauser said— and Leon is weak to it. His gut twists as your cunt and the major’s fingers both grip around him, warm and velvety wet and threatening to milk him dry.

Ever the coach, Krauser starts encouraging you both, his steady tone in stark contrast to Leon’s as the younger man starts begging again.

“That’s it, take it. Cum for us so he can get his.”

“Please, oh fuck she’s so tight, m’not gonna make it sir, I—”

“Just a little more, Kennedy, don’t quit on me now. Where’s all that endurance?”

“I can’t sir I can’t, needta cum so bad, oh god it fucking hurts.”

Krauser’s own cracks finally show through, the grumbling under his breath the first sign he has any weakness at all as you suck him off with urgency, trying to catch him up to your contemporary.

“Shit, yeah, suck my cock just like that. Sound so good when you beg for me, rookie, jesus.”

A pathetic sound comes from Leon as his thrusts grow sloppy, and he leans over you on his forearm as his muscles begin to buckle. It makes you feel even more caged in, traps Krauser’s palm against your clit, forces your legs a little farther apart— and suddenly, you snap.

You convulse completely as you cum, and the rough sounds the two men make in response only bring you higher until the pleasure is blinding. Your ears ring and mute the strings of profanities they’re chanting as they feel it soar through you and gush around them, and you’re putty in Krauser’s hands as he pulls out and keeps your slack jaw open.

“That’s it, shit, cum for her, Kennedy, fuck.”

“Where, where—?”

"In her, fill her fucking cunt— ahh, fuck—”

You flinch in surprise at the first hot rope of cum that falls onto your tongue. While Krauser paints your open mouth white, Leon collapses over you, and you thread weak fingers into his sweaty hair as he cries out into the crook of your neck.

His words are only for you.

“Oh god, I’m cumming, I’m– oh, ohh fuck—”

He devolves into a mindless stream of consciousness as he pumps you full of it.

“Shit, you feel s’fucking good, fucking take me.”

And when he remembers the knife in his hand:

“Oh god, I’m so damn sorry.”

You can’t think enough to even wonder what he’s sorry for as you swallow your mouthful of cum, shuddering at the mild tang before suckling the last drops from the head of Krauser’s dick.

All the while, you feel every single drop that Leon buries inside of you, warm in the depths of your cunt and slightly stinging the sore skin at your entrance as tickles escape around his base. It seems like his orgasm will never end; there must be so much of it, and even when you no longer feel new ropes of his cum pooling into you, he ruts it shallowly into your cervix as he shakes with aftershocks.

It takes a long time for you both to settle, and for lengthy minutes, you just lie there together, eyes closed and adrift. Your whole body is abuzz as you run your hands up and down his back, feeling it rise and fall with his staggered breathing as he lies flush against you, a drunken smile on your face as you come down for good. You sink heavily into the floor, no thoughts whatsoever in your head, and nothing behind your eyes but stars.

Leon too is perfectly exhausted from the way he’s been thoroughly drained, and he’s more than happy to join you in your empty-headed daze. So lie there you do, long enough to be overtaken by fatigue as your blown minds weigh down with sleep, even long enough to forget about what Krauser might be doing.

Leon rolls off of you, knife clattering to the ground as it slips from his limp fingers, and you open your blurry eyes to see the cause: Krauser’s boot.

Krauser doesn’t look angry at all, more so inconvenienced. He shakes his head at the way Leon’s dead weight falls beside you, too tired to even react to his soft dick slipping out of your sopping cunt.

“Good god…” Krauser mutters under his breath, scoffing at the soft display of you and Leon in a puddle on the ground— an understandably dissonant sight after what you’ve all just done. But it doesn’t cut through your euphoric afterglow at all; Krauser’s disapproval is too familiar to blink twice at even now; if anything, it’s casual coming from him. You even weakly smile until he speaks again with a touch more bitterness in his tone.

“You two look just pathetic.”

Blinking away the stale tears that cling to your eyelashes, Krauser sharpens into view. He’s collected himself completely in the time you’ve been drifting away.

And there you are in stark contrast, completely naked on the floor, your limp limbs in a tangled heap wherever gravity took them, your hair a mess of sweat and frizz— and the most indecent sight of all, the cum drying on the corners of your mouth and leaking out of your swollen folds.

Leon lies beside you in an equally tragic state: his hair is a disaster, his trousers are loose around his knees, and a final drop of cum leaks from the tip of his sore cock.

No wonder Krauser’s displeased. There’s truly no world where he’d be glad to see his top recruits looking half dead in front of him, especially when he somehow managed to be so unaffected himself.

“Get up before you stain the mat.”

You and Leon are all creaks and groans as you pull yourselves to your knees, not yet daring to try your feet and instead crawling to find your clothes. You fight against your lightheadedness as you sit upright to redress, trying to do it quickly before Leon’s cum spills out of you and onto the floor. You can feel how much there is, and you don’t know if you’ll have the strength to clean it up, which you’d surely be made to if it did.

But in the minutes you have somewhat to yourself, your throat feels tight all over again. You feel like you’re back at the beginning in the exact same predicament as before: How the hell are you supposed to look Leon in the eyes?

When you’re finally dressed, you stumble to your feet, and you hardly look at him at all before you both shy away. But as you stand in the room on wobbly legs, you find a new predicament, too: What the hell happens now?

You’ve stumbled into completely uncharted territory, and you have only your major to guide you. So on pure routine, you both look to your superior to tell you what to do next.

It has to be the most hilariously pathetic attempt at standing in formation ever, the way he looks incredulously at the two of you as he shrugs on his olive green overshirt, pausing at the sight.

“You’re both so fucking clueless” he grumbles and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Hit the showers and go to bed.”

You stumble shame-faced through yes sir’s and turn heel to the gymnasium door, and your mouth goes dry with each new step.

That’s it then..? You have to pretend it never happened without so much as an acknowledgment? You half wish Krauser had shaken you by the shoulders and told you what to think as usual, for him to set right your spinning head.

“Hey,” Krauser calls just before you reach the door. You both look back and wait, your hearts beating in your chest, but he only looks at you. “I don’t like rumors. I better not hear any more. Understood?”

He stares you down sharply with a lift in his brow. You inhale deeply as you catch his drift. “Y-yeah. Understood, sir.”

Krauser calms and nods once, then turns away. You take the opportunity to slip out of the door.

The walk back to the barracks is painfully quiet; neither of you know what to say. Your bootsteps are the only sound echoing in the dim halls, and your heartbeat is the only thing in your ears.

It isn’t a long walk before you reach the fork between the male and female barrack halls. Your steps slow until they reach a halt and Leon lingers behind you. You turn halfway to face him, but nothing comes of it; you both can only stand there with open mouths that don’t say anything.

You stiffly turn away, but then Leon speaks your name quietly and brokenly, and everything unspoken is left in the ellipses. He gulps once and feels his dry tongue cling to the roof of his mouth as he opens it to speak, and a shaky voice comes out that echoes your very same need.

“Tell me it’s okay.”

You turn around and finally manage to look at him, and it cracks your heart wide open. He looks so much like he did when you’d both arrived here, a scared young man who arrived fresh from the horrors he’d witnessed, who’d do anything to keep everything in one piece despite how much he himself needs saving.

It’s the face you’d first fallen for and fell for all over again as it sharpened into the fierceness he had now. The same face that held you impossibly close just moments ago.

You fall all over again and crash into his chest at terminal velocity, clinging to him with all the energy you have left in you to give.

“It’s okay.”

You hold each other there in the hall for a long time. Neither of you know what you’ll wake up to in the morning or how the hell you’ll pretend everything is normal, but right now, you don’t need to. You just need to hold each other long enough to know that the other one is there.

When you slowly pull away, your fingertips linger over each other’s before you finally break apart. And with one last breathless look into his blown blue eyes, you head towards the women’s showers.

You squint in the fluorescents and avoid your reflection. You step into the shower while it’s still running cold and let the tension wash away in the water as it grows to a calming steam.

You wash yourself with purpose— it’s well past one in the morning and you don’t have sleep to spare— but your fingers linger between your legs as you clean where you feel the most dirty. Feeling the slick slip of cum against your sore, swollen lips as it commingles with the suds, you smile.

⌖⌖⌖

The next morning, everything seems to scream. The wake alarm. Your muscles. Your head from three fleeting hours of sleep. Your thoughts as you remember the source of your freshly aching body.

The very beginnings of bruises bloom in greens and purples under your skin: on your wrists, your hips, and the distinct shape of fingers on your bicep. Your neck is sore and your cheek is tender, nevermind your throat and between your legs. As nervous as the evidence of last night being visible makes you, there's no cause to worry about the curious glances your comrades give you. It really does just look like you got your ass beat in combat, which is... true enough, you suppose.

Still, you can hardly look anyone in the eyes without your blood feeling hot about the new secret that you're keeping, but you don’t have many chances to.

First formation comes in place of breakfast. You’ve never stood so straight in your life; it wouldn’t be a good day to have Krauser pick on you. Definitely not.

Every time the major’s eyes glance over you, goosebumps prick your skin. You have no idea what he thinks about last night’s events, and so you dread his reprimands more than ever.

And when your eyes catch against Leon's, although you catch a hundred different things in his gaze, disappointment isn't one of them, and it's comforting somehow to know that he's feeling the same dizzying mix of emotions as you without having to ask.

But somehow, despite your cloudy thoughts, your aching body, and the ever-present signs of sleep deprivation, you excel.

And so the day goes on without incident as far as USSTRATCOM goes. You’re well ready for sleep by the time you’re relieved for the night, but you stay awake until you know everyone is asleep.

You take your time standing up from your cot, careful not to make it creak or shuffle the cheap blankets noisily. You watch your bunk mate snore as you tip-toe to the door in your socks. Boots would sound too heavy, and besides, you aren’t going far.

Your heart races as you scamper to the men’s wing and look for the right door, but you can’t seem to find it. Maybe it’s farther down than you thought? You turn back down the hall with knit brows to check the room numbers again. No dice. Maybe you passed it already.

You turn again and freeze as a doors opens and none other than Leon walks out.

There’s still no disappointment in his face, though. This is full-on despair. His face drops and his shoulders sink before he stammers and looks away, ducking back inside his room like he’s the one who shouldn’t be here.

“I’m, uh… sorry, I’ll just—“

“Leon, wait...!"

You cross the distance in seconds flat and catch his wrist just as he’s halfway enveloped back in the dark of his room.

“I… I came here to see you.”

end notes: pls infer that you and leon made sweet, comforting love all night long :) or that he violently fucked your brains out without krauser there to make him hold back. whichever

#my works #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader x krauser #jack krauser x reader #leon x krauser #leon kennedy x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy fanfic #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil fanfic #dead dove do not eat #resident evil #krauser x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #metaltango #Spotify

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