spencer

The facility is supposed to be abandoned. No bio signatures on the initial recon scan, no movement from hostiles after an extended stakeout, nothing. An abandoned underground lab for an experimental arm of Umbrella, potentially full of important documents on bioweapons research.

Your mission is to gather as much information as possible, should any of the viruses created there pop up on the black market or worse.

Easy, compared to the shit you're usually assigned.

Leon agrees.

Well, you think he agrees. He treats every mission as seriously as the last. You've grown to appreciate his consistency. It makes him easy to trust, which is essential in this line of work.

He's the best partner you've ever had. Thorough, direct, and smart. He never questions your abilities and relies on you just as much as you rely on him.

And, god. He's kind. Funny, too, when he wants to be. One time on a weeklong stakeout in the middle of nowhere, Argentina, he explained to you, in detail, the plot of The Count of Monte Cristo, all because you said you'd never read it. You hadn't even known he liked to read.

He's hard to crack, though. Professional to a fault, more dedicated to the cause than anyone you've ever met. And he's handsome.

How could you not fall in love with him?

You keep your ever-growing feelings to yourself. Asking him if he feels the same isn't worth ruining your partnership, isn't worth being someone else who wants something from him that he maybe can't give. Not when you can have him this way -- at your side with your life in his hands, his in yours.

In some ways, this is more intimate than any regular relationship you've ever had.

You'd spent the chopper ride here watching him as he looked out the window, even though you knew he felt your gaze. He's always doing that, always taking in everything around him with militant attention. You wonder what he sees that most people don't. Connections, patterns, maybe even beauty. You've never asked. Whatever it is has kept him alive this long. It's kept you alive, too.

And so, the mission.

You drop from a very long hatch into dark, stale air. The ladder leaves your hands aching and your shoulders tight, but there's no time for recovery.

Training takes over. Leon leads, with you at his right flank. Flashlights on, service weapon at the ready.

"Stay sharp," he says.

Sometimes you tease him about it, his constant readiness for a threat. But you feel it this time. Something's not right here, scans be damned.

Flecks of dust and grime float through your bright beams. The corridor ends maybe 15 meters in front of you in a set of metal doors, no windows. The security pad on the left side blinks a dull red.

"Emergency power," you say.

It was in the brief as a possibility but not a guarantee. Leon approaches, and you follow, digging into one of your belt pockets for the access card some other agent had to steal last week for this purpose.

"You want to do the honors?" you ask.

Leon shakes his head. "Be my guest."

The red light blinks green with a hover of your hand, and the unlocking mechanisms creak to life. The doors open slowly with a hiss. You're greeted with a dark lobby, dull yellowish lights lining the base of the walls.

"Must be on throughout," Leon says. Sometimes these places are zoned, or some other needlessly complicated system of power distribution. "Hopefully that means doors will keep opening."

He's still tense, arms outstretched to shine his light into the new space, shoulders taut. You feel it too, a prickle at the base of your neck.

"If not, I'm sure the power systems will be super easy to find with no issues," you say lightly.

He huffs, as close to a laugh as you can hope for at the start of a mission, but it's a win.

"Ready?" he asks.

You dip your chin. He glides into the room, clearing one side as you clear the other. There aren't any signs of disturbance, but that's how it goes with these places. The closer you get to the exit, the more normal it seems -- because all of the horrible things happen behind closed doors.

And no one makes it out.

"Clear," Leon calls. You echo it.

There are two single doors that reveal a bathroom hallway and the security office, as well as a set of double doors that resemble the locked entrance, another keypad glowing red at one side. Leon finds a map of the facility in the office and spreads it on the desk.

"That locked door will take us to an elevator that goes down to the labs," he says, tracing the path with a finger under the beam of his flashlight. "Three of them, all on different levels, connected by staircases instead of the elevator shaft, only accessible by keycard and on the other side of an anti-contamination corridor."

"Isolated," you observe. "In case of an outbreak?"

"It's bare bones compared to the other Umbrella stuff we've seen. This must be really out-there shit. Less resources, less of a footprint, less of an issue when it goes wrong."

You try to commit the map to memory. Leon will undoubtedly fold it into one of his pockets, but it's hard to consult a piece of paper when you're running from a B.O.W..

Level B1: MENIS, Level B2: KAMATOS, Level B3: PYRETOS

"Greek," Leon mutters. "More creative than T-virus, that's for sure."

This is just like him, surprising you after countless missions as your partner.

"Do you speak Greek, Leon?"

He shrugs.

"Not really." He tightens the strap on his glove, a cue that he's frustrated. You know most of his tells by now. "I don't know the last one. Fire, maybe?"

"Not really, he says," you tease. "What else are you hiding, Kennedy?"

He rolls his eyes at you, but if the lights were on, you're sure you'd see some pink in his cheeks. Battle-hardened agent he may be, Leon S. Kennedy still blushes for you.

If only...

No. You swallow the pang in your chest and roll your shoulders. "Start with B1 and go down, then loop back up?"

It wouldn't be out of the question to divide and conquer, but the slimy unease dripping down your spine prevents you from suggesting it.

He grunts his agreement, eyes still on the map, frowning.

As a pair, you work so well together because of your communication. It took practice, sure, but now you know each other across a crowded room, through the heat of a fight, in the dark. You don't let things go unsaid.

Well, most things, your traitorous heart says.

"Leon," you say. "It feels off, right? We're missing something."

Blue eyes meet yours. He sighs.

"Yeah," he says. "Guess we just have to find out what."

You can't help it -- you put your hand on his bicep and squeeze just a little, holding his gaze. His fringe hangs in his eyes. In another life, you'd push it back.

"Be careful, okay?" you ask him, faces so close you can feel his breath.

Leon got shot on your second ever mission together. It was a clean wound, through and through, except for the fact that he'd already been shot in that shoulder back in Raccoon City. The bullet fucked up the already fragile joint, so he needed surgery and was benched for six weeks (he was back at your side in four).

There was nothing you could have done. It was nobody's fault. But you felt responsible for waylaying your new partner, who was one of the most well-known agents in the whole damn place, so you went to see him in the hospital to alleviate your guilt.

"They have you with anyone while I'm out?" he asked you.

They did, actually, but hadn't told you who. Leon was troubled by it.

"Well, be careful," he said, as if he didn't trust anyone else to watch your back, even then.

"Only as careful as you," you replied, pointing at his shoulder.

That was the first time you made Leon Kennedy laugh.

Now, it's something you say to each other in the field. A mantra, a reminder, a promise.

Leon gives you a small smile.

"Only as careful as you," he replies, like he always does. We keep each other safe.

You release him and busy your hand at your belt immediately, god forbid you touch him more.

He rolls his shoulders back and checks the chamber of his sidearm.

"Into the depths, huh?"

"Into the depths."

--

Level B1: MENIS

The elevator opens to a dead contamination chamber. Nothing happens as you walk through the three zones where you'd expect to be scanned, doused, and dried. Another set of metal doors opens with a hiss when you tap the keycard. The smell of death hits your nose and makes your eyes water.

There are at least 10 bodies piled on the other side, most of them in pieces.

"Fuck," you curse, sidestepping a caved-in head.

"Looks like the party started without us," Leon says quietly.

"Great," you mutter. "God, that's nasty."

There aren't any claw marks or avid stains or other tell-tale signs of B.O.W.'s you see with this caliber of violence. One look at Leon and you know he's realized the same thing. You tilt your head down the hall. He nods, following your lead deeper into the floor.

Red emergency lights pulse along the base of the walls, illuminating the blood splattered pretty much everywhere. You pass the occasional corpse, most of them so horribly disfigured it's hard to tell if they were staff or test subjects or something else.

There are so many things you want to say, but you keep them to yourself until Leon leads you to the floor's main office. You slide in but don't relax.

"They look like they were torn apart," you say as soon as the door is closed. Leon frowns at you, since you didn't clear the room first, but it's a square office. You can see all the corners from where you're standing.

"I know," he replies. "But no sign of what did it."

You sigh. "So, are you going to tell Hunnigan the location survey was wrong, or should I?"

"I think I've run out of my 'bad news' calls for the year," he says. "That one's all yours once we get topside."

"How generous of you."

Leon smirks. "I'm a giver."

The office is small and the computers are dead. There are papers scattered around, so you divide and conquer.

You find an official logbook. Mostly in-the-weeds science stuff, but you skim until you find a change in handwriting.

LOG #57:

Development continues under new staff. Blood transmission remains the only method that carries enough sample to infect a host; airborne tests were unsuccessful. Vaccine/suppressant formulas abandoned for the time being after we were told that our subject supply would be steady. B2 wants to set one of theirs against one of ours, which seems pointless because any B1 subject will win that fight. B3 is a joke, but they're insistent that it'll work.

No vaccine...that's not good news. But what were they actually testing here? Infecting people with what?

You flip more pages until you find something that makes your blood run cold.

LOG #63:

We've finally gotten a host to survive. B2 and B3 are nowhere near this. We won't be sharing. Their subjects die within hours. B3 is practically useless, anyway. What use is controlling people if they die on you in an hour? But here, we've cracked it. I managed to figure out how to get the virus to work with the host's adrenaline production, stabilizing it into a constant state of fight or flight without short-circuiting the nervous system. If this batch survives the week, we'll ask permission to start on the suppressant. Once we have that, we'll be able to control the whole herd. The future of hostile takeover is here! Now, if only they'd let us out of this fucking dungeon more often…

Holy shit. They were making viruses to infect large populations, to control them. But using what? Changing their brain chemicals, making them reliant on suppressants? Leon told you about this kind of manipulation, how it infiltrated a military unit and even made its way to the White House a few years ago. Who knows how far they got this time?

"Leon," you call, turning with the folder in your hands. "You should look at this --"

You make eye contact and fall silent. He's got his finger over his lips and his gun at the ready. 

You toss the papers aside and take your place on the other side of the door.

That's when you hear it.

Groans, grunts, screams. Footsteps -- a lot of them.

He holds your gaze.

Clear the chokepoint, get into the lab rooms down the hall around the corner, make for the stairwell on the other side of the floor.

That's what you'd do, so you know it's what he's thinking, too. No confirmation needed.

The door bursts open. You duck, missing the arms reaching for your neck. It's dark in here, but you rely on muscle memory and gravity to sweep the zombie's legs out from under it and stomp on its head while you fire at the next one.

The attackers are -- well, they look mostly human. But their eyes are wild, blood running down their faces like tears, pink foam and spit dripping from their mouths.

Leon's movements are sharp and decisive. Headshot, parry, twist. Uppercut, knee sweep, headshot. He occupies the air around you like he's magnetized to your movements, always filling the space where you aren't, ceding room when you need it. After hours upon hours of mat practice between the two of you and hundreds of field opportunities to master it, you work together like a well-oiled machine.

It's exhilarating.

You're forced back from the door, but you keep firing, slicing, covering each other. It's essential that you get into the hall sooner rather than later to avoid being trapped in this room.

A zombie rips the arm off another in its attempt to get to you. That's new.

"What the fuck were they doing with this shit?" Leon grunts. He's splattered with blood now. No doubt you are too.

"That's what I was going to tell you before our party of two got crashed," you say between shots. 

"They wanted to control people."

"Yeah, this sure looks like control to me!"

"We have to clear it or we'll have to fight through on our way back up."

Leon grunts his agreement. "They're not biting." His aim is true, as always. He downs two, three, four infected. "They just want to rip us apart!"

"We need to go into the hall. Cover me," you say, dodging bloody fingers and sliding through the door. "Switching weapons!"

Your assault rifle is strapped to your back. You holster your pistol and reach around for it, but something catches your jacket and pulls.

The fabric tears. For a split second, you worry your flesh will be next, but then the tug disappears. Leon grunts and he breaks the neck of whatever had you.

You keep your gaze on the approaching pack, maybe 10 or 15 strong. Leon keeps taking them down while you holster your pistol and check the new cartridge.

"Gonna need to reload in a second here," he calls. "Six left. Five. Four --"

"Ready," you shout. Leon stabs a zombie in the neck and walks behind it, using it as a wall against reaching fingers until he's at your side again. He tears his knife free and slides beside you, solid, ready.

You open fire.

That's all it takes. The hallway is soon empty and bloodier than before. All you can hear is your combined panting.

Leon lowers his gun. "Nice job," he says.

You drop yours, too. "What was this floor called again? Menace?"

"Basically," he says, slamming in a new clip. "Divine wrath or anger."

"No shit." You look down at the tear in your jacket. "God damnit, this is my favorite."

Leon checks his chamber. "I'll get you a new one," he says.

You laugh. He almost smiles, like that was his goal all along.

The rest of the floor is mostly clear. A few stragglers here and there, but they're no match for the two of you. The containment chambers seem to be where the infected gathered in the months since this facility went dark -- the walls are covered in scratch marks.

"I can't believe they didn't kill each other," Leon says with mild disgust. "Not having control of yourself like that...I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

You've read the report from Spain. He knows how it feels.

"Do you think they're aware?" you wonder aloud.

He looks so sad for a moment that you almost reach for him. "I hope not."

--

Level B2: KAMATOS

The stairwell is a mess. The door to B2 is barricaded, but you manage to get through after slamming your shoulders against it over and over.

This floor is quiet, but in a different way than upstairs. Years of field-trained instincts tell you there's nothing left alive on this floor. That, and it made a hell of a lot of noise getting the door open, and nothing popped out.

It's dustier down here, like things have been still for longer.

"What's this one mean?" you ask. "This virus."

"Extreme fatigue," Leon tells you.

"So if they controlled adrenaline levels on the first floor to make them angry, they're depriving people of sleep on this floor?"

He shrugs. "Maybe they found a way to keep the brain awake without killing it."

They did not.

The documents you find suggest the virus was a failure. The bodies you find confirm it. Hosts died from heart failure, self-inflicted wounds, a number of things, no matter what the scientists did to keep the mind from giving up. All by depriving them of sleep.

Being so tired that you see no other way out…

The horror of it all rises in your throat. You leave Leon with the corpses so you can press your forehead to the cool hallway wall.

This job asks a lot of you. Your time, your well-being. Your security, your personal relationships, your hobbies. It's overwhelming and can bury a person. The things you see, the things you do -- it gets to you. It’s easy to shove it down, to pretend like you're untouchable, but that's no way to live, either.

Sometimes you just have to feel it.

These poor people.

Leon's hand is light on your shoulder. Not patronizing, not rushing, just there. Warm, solid.

You take a deep breath, then stand up straight.

"Let's take a quick break before the last floor," Leon says.

"I'm fine."

You turn to face him, but he's already crouching, back against the wall.

He grins, a real smile this time. It makes him look younger. "Who said it was for you?"

It's like he's giving you permission to put it all down for a second. To forget where you are, why you're there, what you're doing. Leon's guard is rarely fully down, and right now he's telling you that he's got you. Rest for a second, I'll take care of us.

He's proven to you over and over that he will.

So you smile back, shaky but genuine. "Getting old, Kennedy?"

"Something like that." He looks up at you, grin softening into something fond. "Do you remember Greece?"

You slide down the wall to his level. "Do I remember Greece? Be serious. How could I forget --"

"All those stairs," Leon finishes. "Exactly."

It was last year in the height of summer. A small, sleepy cliffside town, except for the fact that a scummy billionaire moved into the monastery and started developing B.O.W.'s in the catacombs.

The town was evacuated. You were sent in to apprehend the guy and secure whatever virus he was using. It turned into three days of running up and down stone staircases away from bats with tentacles and lizards with thousands of teeth where you wouldn't expect teeth to be.

Over the course of your partnership, you've seen each other in all states, but you've never seen Leon as exhausted as he was after that mission.

"I thought I was going to have to carry you to the rendezvous point," you remind him. "You fell down so many stairs."

Leon rubs his knees as if remembering the way they smacked stone over and over.

"And you would have," he says.

He catches your gaze and holds it. He's reminding you that you're in this together. That he trusts you, something you do not take lightly. It's hard to know who you can trust in this job, even your very own employer, but he never doubts you. You never doubt him.

The familiar ache of everything you feel for him sits warm and heavy on your chest. He's the best man you've ever known.

"I would have," you say.

Leon dips his chin, his mouth curling into a smaller smile than before, but this one is just as fond.

"We should go back," you say without meaning to.

It surprises him, but he hides it well.

"That would be nice," he muses. "I don't know the last time I took a vacation."

"We could go to the beach," you continue. It's scarily easy to imagine -- Leon in swim trunks, cheeks pink from the sun. "Stay at the bottom of the stairs and not walk up a single one."

"But you liked the monastery," he reminds you. "We'd have to go back up to see the windows."

Of course he remembers how you'd looked up in awe at the stained glass, gun in your hand and blood on your face.

"I'll climb up by myself. You can relax."

Leon sighs. "Relax," he says. "I don't even know if I know how to do that."

"You're good at everything," you say. "You'll pick it up in no time."

Whatever game this is, you're having too much fun playing it. Leon doesn't lie to you, so while he might be indulging you, there's a part of him that means all of this. He has to know that you mean it, too.

He stands and offers you his hand.

"One more floor," he says. "Then we can go to Greece."

--

Level B3: PYRETOS

The hit comes out of nowhere.

Maybe you're distracted by talk of vacation, or your guard is down after the silence of B2, but you don't see it coming. One second you're rounding the corner, the next you're flying backwards through glass, back slamming against a cabinet. You land heavily on the ground, more glass and something wet raining down on you.

Leon yells your name.

You try to catch your breath, but it's stuck in your chest. He's still calling for you in between gunshots.

"Fuck," you croak, finally finding air. You roll onto your side. Glass crunches under your weight as you try to figure out what the hell just happened.

Everything hurts, but you try to shake it off and push up to standing. Leon hauls himself through the broken window. He begins to clear the room after he sees you on your feet.

"Clear. That was one ugly son of a bitch," he says. "Must have gotten down here from upstairs."

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but the words catch in your throat.

Something isn't right.

Your skin feels tight, like you already went on vacation and got burned to a crisp. Your pulse won't slow. Deep breaths feel impossible. Strangest of all, it's almost like –

Well, your core is buzzing. You press your legs together and try not to panic.

In the early days, after Leon got shot but well before Greece, you hid an injury from him.

You took a knife to the ribs during a fight. It wasn't too deep, but it was wide and bleeding steadily. Adrenaline allowed you to get through it. You figured you could patch yourself up the next time you slowed. But Leon pushed on ahead, and you followed without saying anything.

That is, until you left a bloody handprint on a door. He stopped immediately.

"Is that yours?" he said. "Where are you hurt?"

"It's nothing," you protested. But Leon S. Kennedy does not give up easily.

"Show me," he said, pulling out bandages from his hip pouch. "When did this happen?"

"I'm not compromised," you said, even as you lifted your jacket to show him.

"I know you aren't," he said. "I want to know when you're hurt so I can make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," you said weakly. He patched you up quickly and thoroughly.

"We're partners," he told you. "We have to help each other."

Here, now, you don’t hide from him.

"Leon," you croak. "Something's wrong. I think I --"

He's at your side in an instant, so close your breath hitches. Why are you so affected by him? Why are you so warm?

"The rip in your jacket," Leon says. "Your arm is bleeding."

"Liquid," you gasp. "It felt wet when I hit the cabinet."

The pieces come together. Shattered vials at your feet, an empty cabinet behind you. The dull red emergency lights make it hard to tell what color the puddle is, but you know it can't be good.

"They wouldn't keep a virus out in the open, would they?" you ask weakly. You're shaking now, shivering even though you don't feel cold.

"Fever," he breathes. "Pyretos. It means fever."

You've rarely seen Leon afraid. He's human, so it happens, but normally he faces things head-on without complaint.

Right now, he looks terrified. That scares you more than anything.

"Leon," you whisper. "What do we do?"

He snaps into action. He hands you a roll of bandages.

"Wrap it," he says. He presses a few buttons on his watch until it beeps. Setting a timer, no doubt. Just in case. "How do you feel? Describe it to me."

"Feverish," you say. "But not dizzy. I can think clearly."

Leon starts to dig around the lab, tearing open drawers and rifling through what he finds. The office on this floor wasn't in the same place as the other two, so any information must be in here, right?

"What else?"

You follow his lead, desperately searching for anything helpful. How do you explain the fact that your entire body is pulsing with a very specific kind of need? It scares you, feeling this out of control physically while also being in your right mind.

You land on achey. The buzzing under your skin gets worse every minute you spend looking and finding fuck all.

"There's nothing here," he says, frustrated. "Shit."

You're thinking the same thing: no vaccines. Any hope for you is in this lab.

But then -- your eye catches on a cabinet sitting on deep grooves in the floor.

"There's a door," you tell him, already heading for it. A wave of need hits you so suddenly that you have to brace yourself on the wall to catch your breath. Leon brushes by you. The slight contact has you swallowing a moan.

Jesus Christ.

He shoves the cabinet aside. Behind it is a door that opens into the lab office, as dark as the others.

You follow him in and start searching the shelves. Leon drags a table into the perfect place to effectively barricade you in.

"We don't have time to be interrupted right now," he says. He starts searching the desk.

You're sweating now. If this thing is going to turn you, Leon can't be here for it. You don't want him to see it. "Maybe you should go back to the surface --"

"I'm not leaving you," he interrupts. It's sharp, final.

"But if I turn--"

Leon whirls around. "I'm not leaving you," he says again.

Your nose stings. It's not the rational choice, but it's the Leon Kennedy choice. You can't help but be grateful for it.

He returns to the papers. Everywhere your clothing touches your skin feels heavy, almost painful. Your skin is sensitive, your throat dry, breath still fast.

You're so turned on, you think you might explode. It's all you can do to just stand there and try to keep it together.

"I found something," Leon says. He says nothing else. It's hard to see his expression in the dark without being close to him. You don't know if you can handle that right now.

"Bad news, doc?"

He swallows and begins to read.

"In an effort to bend the subject to commands, a fever is introduced via the bloodstream that increases testosterone and dopamine to near-unbearable levels of arousal. We have successfully altered the balance to allow the mind to be unaffected, making the reaction purely physical. The fever, if detected and combated within 1 hour, can be reduced by repeated bursts of oxytocin until the subject's internal temperature returns to normal. Required oxytocin levels seem to vary by subject; no pattern discernible at this time."

"What the fuck does that mean?" you pant. Your skin feels too tight. You still can't take a full breath. Control is becoming a missed opportunity. "Do I have a sex fever?"

No answer.

"Leon."

He exhales sharply.

"I think you need to be touched," he says. "To release the chemical that will help you fight this on your own."

Your responding laugh edges on hysterical.

"I do have a sex fever. So, what, you're going to hug me and hope I don't die?"

"I could," he says. He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. "I just don't think it'll be enough. This says bursts, and a lot of them. The best way to trigger that kind of response is --"

It clicks in your mind.

"Orgasm," you whisper. "Oh, god."

Leon closes his eyes for a second too long.

"I don't know what to do," he admits. He looks at his watch. "It's been 10 minutes. I don't know what--"

"I'm so sorry," you breathe. The gravity of your situation is like a bucket of cold water. If only it actually made you feel cold. You have to fuck your partner or die. What kind of sick joke is this? "Leon, I'm so sorry. You don't have to do anything, this is my fault --"

He tosses the file onto the table.

"I'm not going to let you die," he says with all his usual conviction. He really believes it, and it makes it easier for you to believe it, too. "Not when there's something I can do about it."

"But not like this," you croak. "This is --"

"I know."

God, you wish the lights were on. You want to see every detail of his face to discern what he's feeling. Can you ask him to do this? Will it ruin everything forever?

A tremor wracks through you. You have to brace yourself on the desk.

He yanks open drawers until he finds a thermometer. It beeps alive, somehow, and he holds it up to your forehead.

"Shit," he mutters.

"What?"

Leon flips the device to show you the screen. 103.2.

"Shit," you echo.

Your brain is going to cook in your skull sooner rather than later. You swallow frustrated tears along with your pride.

"I'm so wet," you whisper. It's the lewdest thing you've ever said to him. "I can feel it."

Leon inhales sharply, standing ever-so-still just next to you, just out of reach.

The pain radiates through you, molten lava in your veins. It's strange to be able to think so clearly. You want Leon as badly as you always do. That's bearable. But the pain. The heat. It's something else, something all-consuming.

You need him to touch you.

"Please don't make me beg," you whimper, turning towards him.

"Jesus," he mutters, filling the space you make for him. His hands find your face. You groan. The contact is like a balm, even through his gloves.

"Oh god."

You nuzzle into his palms. It's like you can feel the battle in your blood, the virus doing its best to cook you from the inside out, but Leon's touch is giving you a foothold, a reprieve.

If it wasn't so awful, you'd laugh at the idea that you're so horny you might die.

"Whatever you need, I'll do," he says. His voice is already hoarse. "But just -- you have to tell me if it's not okay. And I'll stop. We'll figure something else out."

You lean back on the desk and grab his elbows. You've touched plenty, but never like this. Never loaded with all of the unspoken things between you, never with such desperation.

"It's okay," you tell him. "Whatever it takes, it's okay. I trust you."

His thigh slides between your legs.

"Can you forgive me? If I do this?" he whispers, lips so close to yours. You lean forward on instinct, pulled to him by more than just the fire in your core.

"There's nothing to forgive," you say, and then you're kissing.

What you need is an orgasm, but this is something you've wondered about for a long time. Something you've wanted. It almost feels selfish to take it now.

But, fuck, it's good.

He's not shy. You trace the seam of his lips with your tongue. He opens for you immediately, licking into your mouth as he pulls you forward and onto his thigh.

His kisses are desperate, exposing his worry, but also tender, exposing his care. You're in good hands, hands you love.

Even through your pants, the pressure of your cunt on his thigh is enough to steal your breath.

"God," you gasp.

"Not quite," Leon says, kissing a path from your mouth down your neck. "Does that help?"

You grind down on him in reply. His palms have made their way to your hips, aiding you in your quest for pressure on your core.

It's too much. It's not enough. But still, the coil tightens. "Sorry, I just need --"

You chase it, grinding down on his thigh even harder, panting into his neck. You're close, you can feel it. You're chasing it, that snap, that reward. Leon just lets you take and take and take.

You thread your fingers through his hair, panting into his neck. When you tug just a little, he bounces his leg and you keen.

"More, please."

It only takes three more bounces before you're coming, shudders ripping through you, his name on your lips.

When you return to your body, Leon is dragging his palm up and down your back.

"Did you just--"

You're becoming very familiar with the fabric of his shoulder, his leather harness pressing into your cheek.

"Mhm," you manage.

There's a world where you're embarrassed. In that world, you asked Leon out for dinner and then up to your place after. In that world, you made out on the couch and ground down on his thigh until you came. In that world, he laughed with you, utterly charmed, and it was the beginning of something wonderful.

In this one, he gently tilts you back so he can check your temperature with the thermometer.

"Holy shit," he breathes. "102.1. It worked."

You don't feel that different, but the number doesn't lie.

Leon is panting, too. "More?"

You nod. Your cunt aches like you didn't have an orgasm at all.

He tugs off a glove with his teeth, dropping it god knows where.

"Don't know how clean my hands are," he says.

A laugh bursts out of you, but it sounds close to a sob.

Two fingers go in his mouth faster than you can open yours. He doesn't waste too much time wetting them, given how turned on you already are, but he gives them a good suck. A trail of spit hangs from his lip when he finishes.

You work at the buttons of your pants, unbuckling your tactical belt. It clangs onto the desk behind you. Leon slides his hand down under the waistband of your panties. You collapse into him with a guttural moan.

"Leon," you gasp. He holds you up, no problem, even as you go utterly boneless at just his fingers in your folds.

"You weren't kidding," he says, breathy. "You are wet."

"I'm sorry," you pant into his shoulder.

"Please don't say sorry again," he groans. "I can't take it."

"Can I say thank you?"

"That's worse," he says, sliding two fingers into you at the same time. "I just wish it wasn't like this, is all."

The absurdity of the whole thing makes it hard to keep your emotional walls high. What's the point? You're having sex with your partner to save your life in an underground Umbrella laboratory. You're way past keeping your emotions from him.

So you hear his words for what they are. For what he's not saying.

"Oh, yeah?" He curls his fingers and you groan, arching into him. "You have something you want to tell me, Kennedy?"

"Little late for that."

He presses his lips to your jaw, but you pull back so you can see his eyes. He's flushed, his pupils taking over almost all of the blue you love so dearly.

"I always want to know how you feel," you tell him. It's honest, raw, perhaps out of place when he's knuckle deep in your cunt.

"Fuck," he breathes, like eye contact is enough to undo him.

"I just want to help you," he says. "I always want to help you when you need it." He picks up the pace with his fingers. "I like being the guy who has your back."

His thumb circles your clit. It’s all you can do to hang onto his shoulders and ride it out as he keeps talking.

"I want to give you everything you've ever wanted," he says. "I miss you when you leave the room. I trust you more than anyone I've ever met."

"Oh, Leon," you gasp, grinding down onto his hand. "Me too. Me too."

He scrapes his teeth along your neck. "Yeah?"

"Yes, yes, yes --"

The orgasm washes over you. You clench around him over and over. He carefully pulls his hand from your panties and licks his fingers. Good god.

Something has shifted between you. It's still about the mission, about breaking your fever, but now it's more. It's more, because you both want it.

Leon leans in for a kiss. You meet him halfway, tasting yourself on his lips.

Beep.

"101.3," he says.

You push his hair back from his forehead. "Is that low enough?"

This time, you do feel a bit different. Maybe it's the confirmation that Leon has feelings for you, but your muscles feel more relaxed, your skin less taut. The need still burns, though.

"There's no way to say this without sounding like a creep," he says wryly. "But I think you should have a few more."

You drag your hands up and down his torso, but your gaze lands on his makeshift barricade.

"Do we think we have time?"

Even as you ask, you're toeing off your boots and shoving your pants down. Leon is quick to help you.

"If anything comes through that door," he says, fingers hooked in your underwear, "I can kill it with my eyes closed."

He hooks his hand under your thighs and helps you up onto the desk fully, sweeping everything onto the ground.

"So could you," he adds. You hum in agreement. Your hand returns to his torso, trailing it down to the front of his pants.

He's hard.

It's not entirely a surprise, but you're pleased.

"I know, I'm sorry, it's kind of fucked up --" he tries. You don't let it get very far.

"Don't you apologize," you say. "You're allowed to want, Leon. I promise you, whatever you want, you can have. You already do."

His answer to that is a kiss, not searing and heated like before, but soft and slow. Like he's memorizing you, learning every inch of your mouth just because he can.

A wave of heat rolls through you, so intense and unexpected that you have to close your eyes and grit your teeth against the pain.

Leon rubs your back and tells you to breathe, it's okay, you're going to be okay.

The heat dulls. "How long has it been?" you ask through gritted teeth, eyes still shut.

"26 minutes."

His thumbs stroke your cheeks, helping you come back to yourself.

"Are you okay to keep going?" he asks. "I'll do whatever you want."

You reach for his belt with shaking hands. Not because you don't want him, or because you're scared, but because you need him. You need him to survive. This was just as true before you got infected as it is now. And you have him.

He has you.

Leon lets you unbuckle his pants as he undoes his harness and his tactical pouches. They both fall to the ground.

You take him in hand and he hisses. His cock is warm, another layer of heat against your already burning skin. His hips jerk when you stroke him root to tip.

His fingers circle your wrist to stop you.

"Another time," he says. He kisses your chin. "Okay?"

There will be another time. Leon doesn't say things he doesn't mean, so you take it to heart. This will happen again.

It's not exactly romantic, the way you lean back on some long-dead bioterrorist's desk naked from the waist down, Leon's pants shoved down his thighs and his cock in his hand. But it's what you've got, and it's what you'll take.

You spread your legs for him. He sucks in air like a man just saved from drowning.

"Ready?" he asks. You feel his tip at your entrance and can't swallow the moan that rips from your throat in the shape of his name. He wastes no more time sinking into you in one stroke.

You come immediately, legs wrapped around his hips. You might scream, it's hard to tell. But you're so full and it finally feels right. Like you've been missing something all along and finally found it.

Leon says your name over and over, like a mantra, like a prayer.

"I wish I could see you properly," he says, voice breaking. "I wish –

His hips jerk forward even though he's bottomed out. He leans forward until he's bracing his forearms on either side of your head, brushing your nose with his. He's right. It's hard to see him fully in the red-washed office.

"You know what I look like," you tell him.

"Not like this," he shakes his head. "Not like this."

"You're doing so good," you say, lips brushing the shell of his ear. "Leon, it feels so good --"

It's a strange sensation to feel your blood cooling while he's inside you, to regain control of your body just as you surrender your heart.

Leon starts to move his hips, a slow drag at first, but it quickly becomes a snap. You dig your fingers into his biceps and hold on. You can hear how wet you are as he fucks you.

The coil in your core tightens again. "Leon," you moan. "I'm gonna--"

He kisses you, hips slowing to a grind. He reaches between you with one hand to find your clit and give it some messy circles.

"Go ahead," he says against your mouth. "I can take it."

Your cunt clenches around him. Tears prick in your eyes not from overstimulation but from everything else -- the heat in your veins, the tenderness of his hold, the way he's kissing you as you fall apart, swallowing your gasps.

"So beautiful," he says. And god, it sounds like he means it. Half-dressed, sweaty and bandaged, he means it.

Leon goes back to shallow thrusts, but they're becoming more erratic.

"How many is that?"

"Four," Leon says.

"Are you..."

He nods. "I'm close."

His forehead is damp from the effort. You wipe it with the heel of your hand.

"It's okay," you tell him. "It's okay, Leon. You can --"

You tighten your legs around him to hold him inside.

His breath hitches, but he picks up the pace without argument.

The smack of your flesh fills the room. The only thing on your mind is Leon Leon Leon.

The noise he makes just before he comes inside you is a punched-out whine of your name. He stills above you entirely, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

"So beautiful," you echo. "So beautiful, Leon."

He keeps his weight off you but presses his face into your neck as he catches his breath.

"Fuck," he says. "How do you feel?"

You need to check your temperature, but remarkably better. The heat in your veins is an expected one. You can feel sweat cooling on your skin. The incessant need in your cunt has dulled to a satiated ache.

"Still alive." You kiss him chastely, considering he's still inside you.

"Let me check -- where the hell did that thing go?"

He pulls out. You both hiss just a bit, but he finds the thermometer on the ground.

Beep.

"98.3," Leon says. "That's normal."

You feel boneless and make no move to get up from the desk. If you did, you'd surely make a mess.

"Finally, something normal about today."

Leon tucks his cock back into his briefs, buttons his pants. He drags his hands up and down your thighs.

"Can I clean you up?" he asks.

Even though you now know how he feels, know that he wants you just as much as you want him, he's done so much for you today. Your temperature is back to normal. You still need to make it back to the surface.

"You don't need to," you say. "Just...give me a clean bandage, or something --"

"Let me do this for you," he interrupts. Begs, really, already getting on his knees between your legs. "One more. Just to be safe."

The heat that builds is nothing like the wild, uncontrollable fire of before. This is all you, all Leon. 

The fact that he wants his mouth on you, wants to lick his own come from your cunt.

"Okay," you breathe. You thread your fingers through his hair. He preens.

He kisses the inside of your thigh and pushes your legs wider.

Maybe you should feel exposed, but you don't. You feel wanted. You feel safe.

Leon pulls your folds open with his thumbs. He starts with long licks with the flat of his tongue along your seam, flicking your clit when he reaches the top. But your entrance quickly becomes his focus, and suddenly he's a man possessed.

He laps up his own release as it drips from you, humming when you tug on his hair. He hardly comes up for air, but you know he's paying attention to your reactions based on the way he moves his mouth. He sucks on your clit. Your hips buck, so he does it again.

"Leon," you gasp. How is it possible that you're going to come again? But you feel it, the rising tide in your core. All it takes is a glance down to find him watching you, soaking in whatever he can see in the dim light.

He keeps his mouth on you through your final orgasm. This time, a few tears leak from your eyes. Your breath evens out and your heartbeat actually slows the way you expect it to. The fever is broken, you're certain of it.

"Just to be safe," you say to the ceiling. "You just wanted to show me how good you were at that."

Leon wipes his face with the back of his hand.

"I like to be thorough," he replies. He stands, drags your underwear and pants up with him. 

"Are you okay? How are the symptoms?"

"I think so." You scoot forward on the table so he can pull your clothes over your hips. "It doesn't feel like a fever anymore."

"What does it feel like?"

Your legs are a little shaky, but you stand and wrap your arms around him. You've just had sex to save your life, but you don't know if you've ever hugged Leon before.

"It feels like you," you tell him, cheek pressed to his shoulder.

Leon stills, but you can hear his heartbeat pick up. He envelops you in his embrace, lips pressed against your temple, his inhale shaky.

"I'm glad," he whispers. "I'm so fucking glad."

He's hidden his fear from you so well this whole time, but you saw the look on his face when he realized you were infected. You hug him tighter, willing the fear to leave him. You're okay. You're here, in his arms. He saved you.

"What now?" you ask. You turn in his arms. He releases you so you can reach for your tactical belt.

"We get out of here in one piece," he says. "We get you to medical."

"Fucking medical," you mutter. You shove your foot back in your discarded boot.

"I won't leave you there," Leon says. They could keep you for days, but you know he means it. "Then I'll take you home. And we'll sleep for days."

You almost forget that you don't have to keep your feelings from him. You let the joy take over your face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he says, a little sheepish. "If you want to."

"I want to," you assure him. "I want to."

You'll have to talk about this, surely. The way it changes your partnership, how to navigate field work. There is so much to learn about him. What he's like on a quiet morning at home instead of a stakeout. The noises you can pull from him in a real bedroom. His face when you tell him you love him.

The future is bright.

Leon buckles his harness. He laughs to himself, tearing you from your thoughts.

"What?"

He straightens your belt and grins crookedly, boyish and lovely.

K was the eleventh letter of the alphabet. You knew because you had been counting down ever since you had started working with the DSO. K like Kennedy. 

“Kennedy, you’re with the junior.” Of course. Every single time you got paired up with fucking Kennedy. 

“The junior has a name,” you murmured, shaking your head, shooting a look at the senior agent.

He looked pissed. Like being teamed up with you was the worst thing that could have ever happened to him. 

You had no idea what you had done to deserve this level of hatred but ever since you had walked through the doors of the DSO, it burned bright like a fire in him, apparently. He couldn’t even stand looking at you most days. Like now, grinding his teeth, avoiding your gaze at all costs. 

You and me both, old man, you thought.

At first you had tried to be friendly with him. He was kind of your superior after all. Not directly, but all junior agents answered to the more experienced ones, especially if they were a founding member. 

But lo and behold it became clear that he thought you were less than capable. At first you thought he was nothing but a misogynistic asshole. But then you realised he wasn’t like that with the other female agents. Only you. It seemed personal. Like he thought specifically you had no idea what you were doing, which pissed you off even more.

It hurt a little, if you were being honest. Leon Kennedy was well regarded by everyone. You wanted him to think highly of you, too. 

And you weren't a rookie by any means. Actually you were the most competent agent in your field, but something about working on a mission with Agent Kennedy made you feel like you didn't even know how to do the basics. Probably because he never let you do anything on your own and was always there to take the load off your shoulders. As if you were a damsel in distress. You hated it. 

It was dangerous as well. You were supposed to cover for him too. But he never let you. You had tried plenty of times. 

The mission at hand was retrieving some biochemically altered plants from an underground Umbrella facility. Ones that were suspected to spread airborne pathogens, infecting whoever was unlucky enough to breathe them in. 

“Let’s go then,” Kennedy growled, pushing out of his chair, already walking off to the armory without so much as looking at you. You involuntarily sank deeper into your seat. Something about Kennedy made you feel smaller than you actually were, younger too, less experienced. Incompetent.

You drew in a determined breath and followed him down the hallway.

This was the mission to change that. You were going to show him how capable you were, once and for all. And finally Leon Kennedy would tell you that you were doing a good job.

After a whole bunch of briefings because of the high risk of contamination on your mission, you and Kennedy were in the field, Sherry Birkin on your earpiece. 

“Sherry, we're in the warehouse.” Kennedy murmured, walking in ahead of you as if you weren’t even there. Why didn‘t he just go on these missions alone? He was so shit with other people, and especially you. 

Your determination to prove yourself to him had disappeared as soon as he had once again, come between you and your first target, eliminating it for you. It was an unarmed janitor. As if he could make it any more clear that he thought you had absolutely no idea what you were doing.

Kennedy didn't only walk in ahead of you, no. He held the door open for you as well, as if he suddenly remembered the liability he was constantly dragging around.

“I can open doors myself, you know,” you hissed.

“You’re slow. You need to keep up or you’ll get yourself killed.” 

“If you didn't run ahead like that all the time, I wouldn’t have to.” You asshole, you wanted to add but you remembered he was your superior after all. Not your direct one, but still. 

“Check the boxes,” Sherry said over your earpiece. “I need to know the serial number to find the one we’re looking for.” 

You nodded, grabbing one of them immediately. Too slow, you were going to show him 'too slow'. 

Kennedy did a double take. "Don't touch that." 

“She said check the boxes. Do you need a hearing aid?“ you hissed, getting out your knife and slipping it under the lid. 

“She said she needs the serial number,” he retorted, rushing to your side, his hands closing around yours, halting your movements. You ignored the way your heartbeat kicked up at his touch. Kennedy always made you nervous whenever he was near, that was nothing new. 

“If you had listened during the briefings you would know that they printed false serial numbers on the outside to lead us astray,” you spat, struggling against him.

It was pointless. The man was pure muscle, his grip like a vice. But you tried anyway because you were full of rage. He wouldn’t let you do anything. Not even what you were being paid to do. Not even checking a god damn label.

Because of your little tussle with Kennedy your knife got wedged deeper into the box than you intended.

“Let go,” you hissed through gritted teeth. 

“You let go, junior,” Kennedy growled in return. 

“Whatever you do,” Sherry’s voice sounded over your earpiece. “Do not puncture the—” 

Kennedy pushed down on your wrist too hard and you yowled, your hand slipping off the hilt. “You’re breaking my wrist, asshole.” 

Without you to counter his movement, Kennedy pried the lid open in one swift motion, a cloud of greenish yellow pollen erupting from the box, coating his entire face. He squeezed his eyes shut. 

“—plastic inside. As far as we know, they’re probably trying to contain some sort of highly infectious microspores.” 

Under all the pollen you still saw a muscle tick in Kennedy’s jaw. He wiped the dust off his face. “I said don‘t touch it.”

"Sorry," you stammered, cheeks hot, realising you had called a senior agent an asshole to his face. You wanted to disappear off the face of the earth. 

Kennedy sneezed. “Sherry, what if we did? And got the plant shit all over our face?” He sneezed again.  

“Wash it off with water immediately and check inside the box for the serial number. I‘ll try and find out what it is,” she replied. “But be careful not to get any more of that stuff on you.” 

Leon sneezed a third time and fumbled for his canteen, unscrewing the top and dousing himself with water. He shook his head like a dog, droplets flying everywhere. 

“I seriously hope for you this isn’t poisonous,” he hissed, taking a sip of water for good measure. 

You held up a hand. “If you had just let me do what I needed to do, you wouldn’t be covered in chemically fucked up plant right now,” you snapped, slipping on a pair of gloves and lifting the front of your compression shirt over your nose and mouth, before approaching the box. You had enough of him babysitting you. This was ridiculous.

“Excuse me, what?” He whipped around. “I’m a senior agent, you should listen to me and not think you know better all the time. Look where that got us both.” 

You carefully lifted the lid, dodging another whiff of pollen escaping, scanning the plastic inside for the serial number. 

He blamed you for this. If you ever had a chance of Kennedy respecting you, there it went. And with his standing in the DSO, you would never be able to get a foot on the ground in the organisation. You’d better update your CV asap. They would absolutely sack you for this.

You closed the lid as soon as you found it, sealing it shut with duct tape to be safe. “Sherry, the serial number is AV-4/B.” You slipped off your gloves and tossed them to the side. 

“Alright,” she said. “Are you both contaminated or just Leon?” 

“Just Agent Kennedy,” you replied. You would also call him Leon like every other person in the DSO but he insisted on keeping you on a last name basis. So you never dared. 

“I’m fine, Sherry,” Kennedy cut in, splashing some more water on his face and rubbing it onto the back of his neck too. You didn’t miss the way he propped himself up against the wall with his hands. “Besides, we have to keep going.” 

“Leon, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Sherry said. “We have no idea what this might do to you. It’s too dangerous.” 

Agent Kennedy was breathing heavily and you looked him up and down. He didn’t seem changed, but you agreed with Sherry. You stepped closer to him, feeling his forehead. 

He flinched like the touch pained him. “Don’t touch me.” 

“Holy shit,” you breathed. “Sherry, he’s burning up.” 

“Get him somewhere you’re both safe. I’ll try and figure out what he was infected with.” 

Kennedy shook his head, little droplets still slipping from his hair.

“You heard her,” you said, grabbing his shoulder, but he shrugged you off. 

“I said don’t touch me, junior” he hissed. 

You scanned your surroundings for a safe place where you could hunker down until you got the all-clear from your dispatcher. 

“In here,” you said, opening the door to the nearest shipping container, trying to push Agent Kennedy inside. 

He whimpered at your touch. The invincible agent Kennedy whimpered. This was bad. 

“Oh shit,” you hissed, barring the door from the inside.

“No, no, no,” Leon protested. “Don’t lock yourself in here with me.” 

You huffed. “Shut up, Leon.” Another inappropriate way of speaking to a senior agent, and first name basis as well. But you were done for anyway. “I’m not a damsel in distress, I know what I’m doing.” 

He winced, lowering himself down to sit against the wall. “I never said you didn’t.” 

You whipped around to face him. “You didn’t have to, you’re always on my ass, no matter what I do.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut, ridding himself of his weapons and harness, tossing them to the side. “Can you blame me? It's a good ass.” 

You did a double take. Kennedy was seriously unwell. He coughed, clearly trying to cover up what he had just said.

You crouched down beside him and he flinched again. 

“Don’t come so close,” he panted. “I can smell you.” 

“What do you mean, you can smell me? I don’t stink, I showered before we went out on this mission,” you said, offended.

Leon’s brow knitted together in helplessness and he leaned his head against the wall. “I’m serious, back off.”

“No way,” you insisted, fumbling for the canteen on your belt, screwing the top off and offering it to him. 

He eagerly grabbed it, drinking the water inside, some of it spilling down his prominent Adam's apple as he did.

Despite him being old enough to be your father—and an absolute asshole to be around—you couldn’t deny that Leon Kennedy was an exceptionally handsome man. Hot even. 

Right now, literally. He was sweating so much, wet patches had formed all the way down the back of his tactical shirt. 

“Take it off,” you ordered, as you began to unlace his boots. 

He shook his head, lips pressed together, like he was fighting something invisible inside his own body. 

You slipped off both his boots, tossing them to the side, grabbing where his shirt was tucked into his tactical pants. “I said, take it off, Leon. Don’t be so stubborn.” 

He struggled against you, trying to get a hold of your hands, but you managed to pull his shirt out of his pants at least, grazing his crotch when he tried to stop you. 

“Holy shit,” you breathed.

You had just touched your superior's dick.

Not your direct superior, but that didn’t matter. Because you also hadn’t touched his flaccid dick. No, no. Leon Kennedy was rock hard beneath those tactical pants. 

“I’m sorry,” he whined, squirming, desperately trying to get comfortable. 

You stared at him. “So when you said you could smell me you meant—” 

“Don’t say it,” he pleaded, swallowing hard, his throat bobbing. He looked like he was in agony. 

“My vagina,” you concluded. 

Leon bit back a moan and you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “It’s the plant,” he whispered. 

“So it’s what? Some kind of super potent viagra?” you said, still tugging at his shirt. 

“Stop, what are you doing?” He tried to push away your hand but as soon as your skin touched his, a groan slipped past his lips and he clasped his hands behind his back. 

“Leon, I know you’re incapable of listening to me in any situation, but this is serious. You’re burning up and I don’t care that you have a boner right now,” you hissed. “You were infected with some kind of chemically altered shit. Take your fucking shirt off.”

He finally caved, letting you slip his shirt over his head. You drew in a sharp breath. Leon Kennedy shirtless was a sight to see. Taut skin stretching over chiselled abs, beefy pectorals, perfect for propping yourself up on while you were riding him. 

You touched your chest, feeling for your heartbeat and breathing. Were you contaminated too? 

Oh. No, you were just horny for a man old enough to be your father. 

Leon’s nose crinkled and he turned his head away from you. “Stop that.” 

“Stop what?” you asked. 

“Getting wet, I can smell it.” 

You rubbed your forehead. This was going to make for one awkward as hell debrief. “I hope we don’t have to write a report on this,” you murmured and pressed your earpiece, calling for Sherry. No one answered. 

You took out your knife and cut off a piece of your shirt, exposing a sliver of your belly. 

“What are you doing?” Leon rasped. 

“Relax,” you shushed him, folding the fabric carefully and wetting it with water from your canteen. You scooted closer to Leon, dabbing his forehead with your makeshift cloth. His eyes fluttered shut. "I hate to break it to you, but you're in no state right now. You're going to have to let me take over."

“You hate me,” he huffed. 

“You hated me first,” you countered, flipping the cloth over so the new, cool side was pressed against his forehead. 

“I don’t though,” he rasped. “I think you’re one of the best agents we have.” 

You shook your head. “You’re delirious. We’ll talk about that when you’re less animalistic.” 

He chuckled and you joined in. 

A hand shot forward, grabbing your wrist. “Stop that.” 

“What?” 

“Laughing. Smiling, everything.” He writhed, palming his cock with his other hand, desperately trying to get comfortable.

Your breath hitched in your throat. It was the plant, you reminded yourself. This wasn’t really him. 

“Anytime you laugh in a meeting it’s torture for me,” he whispered. 

“Is that why you never talk to me?” you breathed, continuing to dab his forehead, the fact that his hand was still clamped around your wrist not escaping you. 

He gave a shy nod. 

“So when you say you don’t hate me…” you went on. 

“The second you set foot in the DSO headquarters I knew you were going to be my downfall,” he rasped. 

You paused, watching the way he was leaning into your touch involuntarily, like he couldn’t help himself. “Did you request to be partnered up with me? Is that why I’m on missions with you every single time?” 

He nodded again and you leaned closer to him. “I needed to ensure your safety myself. I don’t trust anyone else with it.” 

You bit back another comment about how you didn’t need anyone to take care of you. You had a feeling your capacity of knocking a grown man out cold had nothing to do with his instinct to protect you. 

“Leon, if this is some kind of enhanced viagra, I can help you.” 

He shook his head, his jaw working. “I would never ask that of you.” 

“I’m offering. And in a way this is … necessary,” you whispered. “But if you’d rather do it yourself, I can look the other way and make sure you’re okay while you do it.” 

"Fuck no, that’s way worse," he grunted, a rosy blush creeping up on his cheeks. "I'm not gonna let you watch me jack off."

“Alright, it’s settled then,” you said, hands moving down to the buttons of his tactical pants, undoing them one by one. Your mouth watered with anticipation. 

You would be lying if you said you had never imagined what Leon S. Kennedy looked like naked. Or what he would be like in bed. Matter of fact, the second you had seen him, walking into the DSO on your very first day you thought he was the most attractive man you had ever set eyes on. The fact that he was so much older, making it all the more forbidden and enticing. 

Leon’s hand shot forward again in an attempt to keep your hands from doing what they were doing. “Don’t. This is so unprofessional,” he pleaded and you felt him twitch beneath your palm. He was hanging by a thread. 

You sighed. “Yes, it is. Very much so. But do you not want me to?”

He bit his lower lip and his restraint finally snapped. His hands fell down to his sides and he let himself sink lower against the wall, giving in.

Your hands became shaky when you pushed his pants off his hips. What would this be like at the office? 

Avoiding each other at all costs? Not looking when the other person spoke? So business as usual. 

His cock sprang free and you gasped. It was the most beautiful cock you had ever seen: thick, long and just as veiny as Leon's forearms. 

"Oh fuck," you breathed. How was he the one under the spell of those damn plants when you could feel yourself grow wetter by the second? 

Leon whimpered again, covering his eyes with his arm. Right. Heightened sense of smell. 

You closed your hand around his base, squeezing him. That was already enough to draw a breathy moan out of him. 

The great Leon S. Kennedy. Putty in your hands. 

You gently spread the pre-cum that had gathered on the tip with your thumb, giving him a tentative pump. 

“Oh fuck,” Leon groaned. “I’m so sensitive. It’s not usually like that.” 

A grin tugged at your lips. Was he now? No time like the present to take a little revenge for all those times he had made you feel like a child during your missions. It was too easy. 

You leaned down, gently running your full lips along the underside of his cock, as you slowly pumped him, gripping him tightly. 

His breath hitched and his head shot up, staring at you with half-lidded eyes, brows drawn together. “You don’t have to do that, you can just ah—” 

You shut him up with an open mouthed kiss to the tip of his cock and a hand slipped into your hair. 

“I always exceed expectations, Agent Kennedy,” you whispered, breath fanning over his most sensitive body part. “If you ever let me do what I’m being paid to do on our missions, you would know that already.” 

Leon whimpered and you licked up his entire length in one broad stroke. His hips bucked and the grip on your scalp tightened. 

“Please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be,” he whined and you chuckled, looking up at him. 

“Oh, I will make it harder,” you promised, closing your lips around his tip, hollowing your cheeks. 

Leon growled, drawing in a sharp breath. 

You hummed in response, swirling your tongue around his tip, continuing to work him with your hand, as you french-kissed his cock. 

“Oh fuck, that feels so good,” Leon breathed, his cock twitching in your mouth. You released him with a lewd popping sound, looking at him with lustful eyes. 

He stared at you, mesmerised, his other hand coming down to cup your cheek, running his thumb over your lower lip, all wet and glistening with your saliva and his pre-cum.

You grinned. “Do you want it sloppy or neat?” 

He chuckled, dipping his thumb into your mouth for you to suck on. “Has anyone ever said neat?” 

You shook your head. “Never happened.” 

Leon grabbed a fistful of your hair and pushed you back down on his cock, thrusting his hips up. You eagerly took him deeper into your mouth, saliva running down the sides, gathering at the base of his cock. 

“Fuck yes, just like that,” he groaned, hitting the back of your throat. You gagged, but that only meant more saliva to lubricate for a softer glide.

“I’ve been thinking about this in meetings all the fucking time,” he confessed, moaning loudly. “That’s why I couldn’t look at you. Because I kept thinking about what you’d look like choking on my cock.” 

A moan racked through you at his confession, sending vibrations through his entire body, making him draw in a sharp breath. You came back up to catch your breath.

“What else were you thinking about?” you asked, puffy lips spreading your saliva all over his length. “Because when I first saw you, I thought about how I wanted you to bend me over your desk and fuck me.” 

Leon groaned. “Don’t say that. I’m old enough to be your father.” 

You shot him a fiendish grin. “Daddy.” 

You sank down on him again. 

“Holy shit,” Leon panted, squirming underneath you, cock twitching. You swallowed around him, raking your fingernails over his abs. 

“I’m gonna cum,” he moaned, his breathing coming ragged, his fingers in your hair tightening, pulling at it ever so slightly. 

Tongue pressed to the underside of his cock, you moved up, sucking him into a vacuum for the grand finale, spit leaking past your lips. 

"Oh fuck, just like that." He gritted his teeth, moments from losing it. "Don't st—"

You pulled your mouth off him.

Leon's eyes flew open and he let out most pathetic sound you had ever heard. His hips bucked, cock thrusting up at—nothing.

You chuckled. "You didn't think I'd let you cum that easily, did you?"

He whimpered, brows knitting together. "What are you doing?"

You shook your head. "This whole time, you make me feel like I'm a good for nothing rookie and now you think I'm just gonna suck you off like nothing happened?"

He swallowed, trying to catch his breath. "This is serious, I could die from this."

A smirk tugged at your lips. This was too good.

You shrugged. "See, if I were in your situation, I would ask nicely."

"Junior..."

You clicked your tongue, scoldingly wagging your finger in front of his face.

He let out a laboured breath, fists clenching at his sides. Oh, he hated this. For a moment, you almost backed down.

But you were going to have to look for a new job anyway, so fuck it.

"Say 'please'," you purred, sticking out your tongue, almost close enough to reach, close enough to run over his length, tracing every vein.

"This is very unprofessional," he whined, eyes never leaving you. "We are supposed to work together to ensure mission success."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Unprofessional? Leon, you have your dick in my face." You licked his tip and he let out another broken moan. He was at the very edge of sanity. "Besides, I feel like it's not me who needs a lesson in cooperating with my assigned mission partner."

He thrust his hips upward again, desperately pushing himself against your face. You leaned back.

"Say it." You leaned in closer, watching his muscles ripple underneath his skin, a sheen glint of sweat coating his entire chest. "Fucking beg for it, Leon."

"Please, okay? Please make me cum, I'm fucking begging you, I can't take this anymore," Leon whined. "Please let me cum in your mouth."

You closed your lips around him, making eye contact as you did. Leon looked like he was about to die. Because of the plant or because of you was hard to tell.

Hollowing your cheeks, you picked up right where you had left off, sucking, licking, lapping up every bit of precum and restraint he had left in him. Every single muscle in his body was taut like a bowstring, ready to snap at any moment.

His lips fell open and he let out a strangled moan, cock twitching inside your mouth. Your hand moved down to cup his balls, tight and ready to release all he had into you and you pushed down on his length, swallowing around him.

He cried out, grabbing the back of your head and pushed himself impossibly deeper into your throat, making your eyes water.

"Oh fuck," he panted and you tried to relax your throat, failing, gagging on his cock.

Leon came with a moan loud enough to echo through the entire shipping container and you desperately tried to come back up for air, thick ropes of white coating your tongue, some of it spilling out the corners of your mouth.

This was sloppy as hell. Cum dripped all over his tactical pants and down your chin as you kept sucking him through his orgasm. 

“Fuck, you look so beautiful like that,” Leon breathed, cock twitching, giving you one last bit of cum to lap up. Your eyes fluttered shut at the salty taste. Why did he taste so good? 

Despite the state of you, you licked him clean and pressed a parting kiss to his now softened tip. You sat up, both your breaths coming out ragged. Cum trickled down the collar of your compression shirt and tears were beginning to dry on your cheeks.

Oh, this debrief was going to be hell for everyone involved.

Leon’s chest was heaving, as he came down from his high and—his infection. 

"I don't know what to say," he panted, staring straight ahead.

"Me neither," you replied, shyly backing away, sinking down against the wall next to him, wiping your mouth and chin with your sleeve. Fuck it. This was a whole mess anyway. And you weren't talking about the shirt.

“I..." Leon started, pausing. "Good job, agent."

You chuckled dryly. What the hell were you thinking? Playing with him like that in a life or death situation? This was bad. What had gotten into you? You could drag your ass straight to HR after this, cum stained shirt and everything.

"I feel like I owe you dinner,” Leon murmured, wrinkling his forehead.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Thanks, but I just ate,” you whispered, mechanically.

You and Kennedy looked at each other from the corner of your eyes, waiting for each other's reaction.

“Agents? Agents are you there?” Sherry’s voice over your earpieces made you both jump. Leon frantically pulled up his pants. “Leon? Are you okay?”

“Sherry,” you rasped. “Please tell me you didn’t hear any of that.”

“Nobody heard a thing,” she replied, voice a little shaky.  

Leon grabbed his earpiece. “What do you mean nobody? Sherry, who else is there?”

a/n: this is holy water

-----

Beautiful was what you initially pegged him as, eyes sweeping along the striking lines of an exhausted face and the stubborn swoop of hair spilling carelessly over his brow. Then you decided he was just prematurely aged. The silver threads catching at his temples and the aggressive shadow of a stubble made him look worn down by a decade of exceptionally bad sleep and even worse stress.

He looked like a man who could fuck good. Looked like he approached sex the exact same way he approached the rest of his miserable life, with unrelenting stamina and a terrifyingly methodical focus designed to dismantle whatever stood before him.

He also looked like an easy target, staring into the amber depths of his glass with a level of sad depression that practically radiated off his shoulders. All it took was you stepping directly into his line of sight, ordering another shot with a dramatic sigh, and offering him a painfully cynical comment about the state of the world (while deliberately showing off your cleavage).

The guarded set of his jaw twitched into the faintest ghost of a smirk.

You offered your name, he offered his (Leon—was it short for Leonard? Leonel?), and he leaned in when you laughed at his terrible attempt at a joke. A genuine chortled laugh because you hadn't expected a dad joke from a man who looked as brooding as he did.

You licked your lips, he followed your tongue.

Hook, line, sinker.

Which explains how you now find yourself trapped in a mating press on a mattress that probably costs more per night than your rent. A dingy, cheap motel would have been your practical choice, but you had noted the expensive gleam of the watch on his wrist within five minutes of sitting next to him. Freaking Hamilton that looked distinctly like a limited edition, judging by the brushed steel and intricate dial.

Frankly, you shouldn't be surprised he carried that much net worth. He’s handsome, weathered beautifully into his age (Late forties? Early fifties?), and clearly paid an exorbitant amount of money to survive whatever horrors are actively ruining his mental health.

What does surprise you is how you’ve underestimated the scope of his physical abilities.

Over the past blurry hour, this complete stranger has effortlessly folded you into positions that defy your understanding of your own flexibility. Knees pressed so securely beside your own ears you start to believe the fee you pay for your weekly reformer pilates class might be a scam.

Apparently what you needed to achieve this level of advanced mobility was the unrelenting dead weight of a very, very capable man. So fucking capable that you’ve genuinely lost count of how many times he’s wrung you out on these expensive sheets.

Four orgasms? Maybe five? Whatever the number is, another one is dangerously crawling up the base of your spine.

Your sanity might be beyond saving at this point. You’re sweating profusely, and the backs of your thighs are screaming in dull protest from being pinned back for god knows how long. Leon pulls out and snaps his hips again with a jarring impact that seems to grow more ruthlessly aggressive with every single grind.

He does it again and again and again until you’re basically screaming from the unavoidable crash of yet another orgasm, toes curling frantically in the suspended air while your nails bite into the heavy muscle of his arms.

This man is something else, obviously nothing akin to the standard parade of disappointing men who talked big but possessed absolutely zero game. They were a flimsy attempt to scratch the very surface of your boredom. Leon, by comparison, is clawing straight down to the bone.

There’s a slowness in his thrusts now, and you blink to find an actual smile breaking through the sweat and exhaustion on his face. The warm puff of a chuckle against your cheek tells you he isn't simply amused. He’s actually entertained.

You huff, making a valiant but entirely useless attempt to mock him, "Stop laughing."

The sweat beading along his heavy brow does absolutely nothing to detract from how devastatingly smug he looks right now. “You’re shaking so much. It’s cute.”

So much for playing the femme fatale act at the bar. He swipes a thumb across your blotchy cheek, courtesy of his rough afternoon shadow.

“You okay?”

You sigh out a harsh breath, blowing a damp strand of hair out of your eyes. “Have you," you manage to wheeze, "even cum yet?”

He shakes his head, blue eyes glinting with unapologetic amusement.

"Are you ever going to?"

His low laughter rumbles warmly in your ears. “Why, you want me to stop already?" he presses a kiss against your jaw. "Thought you were having a good time."

“I’m having a great time.”

“Then what’s with the rush?”

“Maybe we should take a break,” you whine, gasping sharply when the weight of his pelvis rocks aggressively against your lower belly. “I-I need to pee.”

He seems unfazed. Moves like you didn't utter a word to begin with. Instead, what he does is press you even further into the mattress. “Is that right?”

“Fuck—Leon—” You arch your back as he maliciously tilts his hips. “You’re not helping.”

“I actually am,” he argues.

“What—”

“Let's test a theory," he drawls, hot breath ghosting over your pulse. "Do you really think you just need to pee, or are you about to squirt?”

You go completely still for a moment. Considering your track record of thoroughly uninspired hookups and non-lasting relationships, there is absolutely no palpable evidence to suggest you are capable of doing what he’s asking.

“I’m pretty sure I need to pee,” you reason quietly. “I’m not a squirter.”

He pulls back enough to meet your eyes. “You’re telling me you’ve never done that before?”

“I have no prior experience to suggest it's even an option.”

He looks genuinely offended by your answer. “Do you want to try?”

Your head falls back to fully take him in. He really is pretty. Never mind the faint, tired wrinkles bracketing his pale blue eyes, or the harsh features of a man who has clearly seen too much and slept too little. He’s simply too devastatingly gorgeous for his own good.

Even with the fragments of scars you’ve spent the last hour subconsciously counting on his neck, his shoulder, his chest. Scars that make you wonder what kind of terrifying life he leads when he isn't in a hotel room with a stranger, fucking their brains out.

And you’re very much aware you’re one of the few he’s taken to bed.

But is he always this attentive? This generous?

Does he fuck everyone else this hard yet still find the gentle grace to cradle their face and brush the hair out of their eyes?

You instantly hate how territorial you sound. It's wildly hypocritical for someone who values the cheap thrill of a purely physical transaction just as much as he clearly does. He’s just a good lover, you decide. And if tonight is the only night you get to have this man all to yourself, then so be it.

If he thinks he can make you squirt, then who are you to deny?

“You really think I’m about to squirt?”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

You frown. “What if it’s just pee?”

He kisses the wrinkled line between your brows. “Make a mess then, I don’t mind.”

Yeah, you’re going to let him absolutely ruin you tonight.

“Then make me squirt, Leon.”

He dips his head, breathing the hot air of his lungs directly into your open mouth. “Yes, ma’am.”

Your pussy tightens reflexively at that, which he obviously catches. He catches on to every desperate tell your body gives him, actually. Probably the sole reason why you've already come an embarrassing number of times.

Not enough, apparently, because he’s already moving his hips in rapid rhythms—not too fast or too slow, but enough to have your eyes sliding shut, focusing on the stretch of his cock driving deep in and out of your cunt.

“Fucking beautiful,” he hums, binding your wrists together above your head. “Just lying there looking all pretty."

“H-harder,” you whine, weakly pushing your hips up to meet him.

“Yeah?” He squeezes your wrists together, leaning even more of his massive frame over you. “You like it when I go hard on you?”

Like it? You thrive on it, nodding frantically as your trembling thighs try to lock around his waist. Try is definitely the word when he’s practically flattened you beneath his crushing weight, effortlessly trapping your body. You can feel your limbs turn gooey and powerless, your stomach contrastingly hard.

“I know, baby, I know,” he rasps, ramming his hips harshly against yours. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Ngh—h—”

“That’s it, give it to me. Make a mess on me.”

The panic hits you first, quickly swallowed by an absolute wave of pure heat. Starts as a buzzing ache in your core before violently spiking into an unbearable sensation. Your belly burns, coils, rattles—and you blink your eyes open, brimming with tears. “Leon—”

He instantly reads the panicked clench of your muscles.

“Don't fight it.”

“I’m not—”

“You are.”

Your groan is feral. “I can’t—”

“Come on, baby, you’ve got to trust me,” he croons softly. “Do you trust me?”

Surprisingly, you do, even if your only judgment on this man comes from the three hours that have passed since you sat down next to him at the bar. “Yes.”

“Good. Then let it happen.”

Your breath stutters. Your body jerks.

“Breathe through your nose.”

He plunges in with a particularly harsh thrust and you gasp. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Oh, fuck—”

“That’s it.” He closes the last inch of space between you. Foreheads touching. “Let it go.”

You try to follow his words and suck in a sharp breath. Lungs expanding, ribs flaring, and the rush of oxygen pouring into your blood sharpens every sensation to something blinding.

It’s like a switch. One moment your muscles are tensed, then a passage of whines pitches upward as your orgasm barrels through you without warning. Strong and gut-wrenching. Body hot in bliss and shame—only for two seconds. Quick as it hits, he abruptly pulls out, instantly replacing his cock with two calloused fingers.

Your mouth gapes in a silent scream. Even more so when his offhand curls around your neck. Fingers pressing against the sides of your throat, palm flat against your windpipe, but exercising barely any pressure all the while his fingers fucks your swollen, dripping cunt.

You’ve seen yourself getting wet, you’ve felt yourself getting drenched, but you’ve never experienced anything as wild as this.

Speckles of liquid spatter across the sheets the more he drags his hand in an up-and-down motion, its squelching sound rising above the fight of your labored breathing.

He pushes his palm against your clit.

“Oh fuck! fuckfuckfuck—”

A sudden rush spills over him. Soaks the sheets beneath you in dark patches and streams down the inside of his wrist, seeping hot onto his thighs. He continues to pump his fingers while you lie there—crying openly, violently shuddering. It goes on for what feels like forever until he smoothes out his pressure around your throat, kissing the drool glistening on your lips with a disbelief chuckle.

“Should’ve met you sooner,” he laughs into your mouth, easily slipping his cock back in.

Maybe it’s the bliss completely corrupting your nervous system, or perhaps it’s the overwhelming stretch of his thick cock driving back into your overstimulated cunt. Whatever it is, you completely lose your grip on the casual nature of a one night stand, eager words spilling past your wet lips before you can even screen them.

“Can we meet again?” You pant. “Like—after tonight?”

He withdraws his hips with a smug grin.

“I would,” thrust, “very much,” thrust, “like that.”

Thrust, thrust, thrust.

You’re somewhere right on the edge of a pathetic whimper and a helpless laugh, entirely too pleasured to think straight, dangerously too giddy at the possibility of actually getting to know him. To uncover those scars in daylight, to figure out what kind of hell he had to survive to inherit those devastatingly sad yet kind eyes.

To learn his last name. To unearth his middle.

You gasp when he effortlessly flips you over, twisting his fingers in your hair and pulling it back.

The fabric is soft against your cheek, worn thin in places by years of washing and chaffing against his skin. It is a simple dark navy henley that carried the scent of your shared detergent, and his scent never quite washes away no mater how many times you wash it. You breathe it in deep, your lungs expanding until you couldn’t anymore, holding onto his scent. The shirt is clutched in your white-knuckled grip as your body arches off the mattress.

Between your thighs the vibrator hums, the silicone is slick and warm with your heat. The pressure against your clit is a desperate attempt to replicate the way he makes you feel when he is between your legs. Your hips roll instinctively against the vibrator, chasing a high that feels just out of reach, you are aching for the feeling of his hands gripping your waist as he fucks into you, of him smothering your moans with his mouth.

The front door clicks open and then there is the heavy tread of boots on the floorboards, but you don’t react, the sound muffled by the blood rushing to your ears. You are gasping and panting into the cotton shirt, the toy still buzzing against your clit in a continuous rumble, you don't even bother with the other settings. Your heart is beating so loud you can barely hear anything, the world around you blocked out. The scent of him is headier now, mixed with the sharp smell of your own arousal, clouding all rational thoughts and feelings.

He appears in the doorway stopping in his tracks, the light from the hallway silhouettes him, a broad figure cast in the light bleeding into the dim room.

He watches from the doorway as a flush bloom across your chest, the sheen of sweat and your own release coats your inner thighs, your knees are trembling, fallen wide in invitation. The shirt, the one he wore before he left yesterday is pressed desperately against your nose and mouth as you breathe the scent in frantically, panting and gasping against the fabric as you circle your clit with the vibrator.

You whimper into the fabric when finally, your eyes meet his, heavy-lidded and wet with unshed tears of frustration and arousal. You don’t seem surprised to see him there, lost in the haze of pleasure, in fact his visage seems to spur you on as you whimper and writhe on the mattress with renewed effort, rubbing your slick thighs together. Your eyes are begging and pleading him without words to bridge the gap, that feels as wide as a canyon, to come closer and join you in the bubble of heat and arousal that you’ve created.

Leon doesn’t speak as he shreds his jacket, letting it fall to the floor before he crosses the distance to the bed. The mattress dips under his weight as he climbs onto the bed with you, the springs groaning in protest. He doesn’t touch you immediately, just kneels there with one hand resting on his thigh, the other braced near your head.

Slowly he reaches out gently pressing his palm to your overheated skin, you jerked moaning as his hand slides down your sweat-slicked stomach. He maps your curves sliding along the dips in your waist, his firm calloused hands gripping your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh, and pulls you softly. A sharp gasp escapes you as your lower half slides across the sheets, settling your lower half heavily in the cradle of his lap. 

"Keep going," Leon murmured, "Show me how you fuck yourself when I'm not here." A shuddering moan escapes you as you obeyed, slowly pushing the tip of the vibrator down and into your dripping warmth and then dragging the toy out before pushing it back in slowly. The vibration and angle is different now with your hips elevated in his lap, and the vibrations hit a soft sensitive spot inside you.

"Ahhh—nngh—Leon," you gasped as your back arches off the mattress, your fingers knotting desperately in the fabric of his shirt. The cotton was damp with your breath and sweat, the faded scent of laundry detergent mixed with the scent his skin fueling the fire in your blood.

His hands slide down from your hips down to the soft flesh of your inner thighs. Pushing them wide to expose the slick, quivering center of you to the cool air and his burning gaze. One thumb drags down your outer folds, collecting the dripping wetness there, before pressing inward to spread you apart. He holds you open, his eyes darkening as he stared intently at your exposed cunt.

"Look at that," he murmured as he watched, mesmerized, as your inner muscles clenched and fluttered around nothing, the wet flesh pulsing. The toy in your hand buzzed frantically, glistening under the low light, coated in a thick sheen of your arousal. You couldn't stop the desperate whine that built in your chest, your hips rocking upward to chase the friction.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he groaned, before he leaned in closer. "Were you thinking about me? Hmmm? Was it my cock you were imagining when you were fucking yourself?"

You nodded frantically, your chin wobbling as tears of frustration prickled your eyes. "Yes—mnm—oh god Leon," you babbled, working the toy in tighter, faster circles now, chasing the building pressure that coiled tight and hot in your core. "Needed you so bad."

He shifted, bracing himself over you, caging you in with his broad shoulders, but his attention never wavered from between your legs. He reached down, his large hand covering yours where it gripped the toy, gently pried your fingers away and took control of the toy himself.

"Such a greedy girl," he murmured, the degradation sending a fresh jolt of heat through you. He guided the toy, changing the rhythm from your frantic fluttering to slow circles that pressed the vibrating head harder against your swollen clit. "Let me help you, baby."

He leaned down, his hot mouth finding the flushed, sweaty curve of your breast. He placed an open-mouthed kiss just above your nipple, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt on your skin, even as his eyes remained locked downward, watching the slick wet mess he was creating between your thighs. Studying every twitch of your legs and every throb of your clit under the vibration.

He shifted his hips, grinding his erection against the soft flesh of your ass. "Leon," you whimpered, your head falling back, the shirt slipping from your fingers as all the sensations became too much for you to handle. The scent of him is everywhere now, overpowering the lingering smell on the shirt, It was intoxicating and dizzying.

He dragged the toy downward, sliding it through your dripping folds to coat it in fresh wetness, the silicone humming against your entrance, teasing the sensitive rim. Then he brought it back up, pressing it firmly against your clit, the vibration rattling your nerves.

Your hands scrambled for purchase reaching up and gripping his shoulders. Your fingernails dug into the skin, raking angry red lines down his muscles, the pleasure threatening to pull you under.

"You look so beautiful like this. Feel good?" he asked softly, his eyes finally lifting to lock onto yours. They were intense and dilated until the blue was just a thin ring around a black void, watching every flicker of pleasure that crossed your face. 

You nodded furiously, your breath hitching in your throat, your hands tightening on his shoulders afraid that if you didn't answer him he might stop. "Yes—don't stop, please don't stop."

The buzzing head of the toy drags away from your clit, moving in slow circles around the swollen bundle of nerves without quite touching it, making you keen and your hips jerk upward, begging for attention. Your breath hitches in uneven gasps, your body trembling with the effort to stay still, to not chase his touch.

Leon shifts, leaning in over your body, and you feel the hot splatter of his spit land directly on your exposed pussy, mixing with your own arousal to make a mess, before he slides two digits into you effortlessly. Your body sucks him in with a greedy, embarrassingly wet squelch and he curls his fingers upward. Immediately finding that rough patch of swollen ridges inside you that makes your vision blur and your toes curl. He strokes it firmly in a 'come here' motion, dragging his fingertips against the sensitive front wall until your thighs shake.

"Leon," you gasp, the last syllable of his name dragging out on a moan as your head falls back against the pillows, your fingers scrabbling uselessly at the sheets.

He answers your plea by suddenly pressing the toy directly onto your clit again. Your thighs clench around his arm, fighting involuntarily to close your legs but he doesn't budge an inch. He holds you open, one hand buried inside you, the other hooked around your thigh to keep you spread while the vibrator grinds into your clit. He watches your face contort in pleasure, your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back.

Overwhelmed and desperate for a connection, you reach up your hands find the back of his neck. Fingers tangling desperately in the hair at his nape, and you pull him down. He yields easily to your whims, a soft grunt escaping him as he lowers his chest down to cover yours, his weight pressing you into the mattress, suffocating you slightly.

You crush your mouth to his, swallowing the low groan he makes as your hips buck against his hand. The kiss is messy, all clashing teeth and dueling tongues and desperate, shared breath. You taste the lingering mint on his tongue and the faint, bitter edge of strong coffee, but underneath it all, it's just Leon. You moan into his mouth, which is swallowed by him as his fingers pump harder into you, the toy still buzzing against your clit. He devours your whimpers, his tongue dominating the kiss, fucking your mouth in time with the rhythm of his fingers.

The kiss breaks only when oxygen becomes a necessity, your lungs burning as much as your veins, the room spinning in the peripherals of your vision. You pull back just enough to gasp, your forehead resting heavily against his, his breath hot and mingling with yours in the scant, humid space between your mouths. He doesn't let up, not for a single second. His fingers pumping inside you, curling hard against your front wall with every thrust, dragging a wet lewd squelching sound from your core.

"God, look at you," Leon breathes, his voice rough like sandpaper against your ear. He shifts his weight, his jeans rubbing against the sensitive skin of your trapped thigh, sending jolts of heat skittering up your spine. "You're dripping all over me."

The pleasure is a tight, hot knot in your belly, pulling tighter and tighter with every circle of his wrist and every crook of his fingers. Your inner muscles clench around him, trying to keep his fingers inside you and pull him deeper. Your hips try to buck, to chase the sensation or flee from it, you aren't sure which. His arm is locked across your leg, holding you open for his use and you are entirely at his mercy, spread wide and trembling.

"Leon, please," you whimper, the words dissolving into a high pitched keen as he twists his fingers just right, scissoring them slightly to stretch you. "I'm—fuck, I'm close."

He growls low in his throat, before he adjusts the angle of the toy, pressing it directly into the swollen hood of your clit. The coil that had been tightening snaps. Your vision whites out, your back bowing off the mattress as the orgasm rushes through you like a wave. You cry out, your fingers clawing at his shoulders, your body seizing up around his hand as the pleasure crashes over you, leaving you gasping and shuddering in his grip.Your body convulses, every muscle locking tight. Your pussy clenches rhythmically around his fingers, squeezing them in fluttering contractions. 

Leon doesn't stop, he keeps his fingers buried deep, curling them through each spasm, drawing out your pleasure to an unbearable overstimulating degree. The toy stays pressed hard against your clit, the vibrations now almost too much, pushing you past pleasure into oversensitive territory. You gasp, your thighs trying to clamp shut, but his arm keeps you spread, keeps you exposed to the stimulation.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you chant breathlessly, your voice breaking on each syllable, turning into sobbing gasps. Your hips jerk erratically, caught between the instinct to grind down onto his hand and the need to escape the overwhelming buzz of the toy. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, leaking out to run down your face and into your hair.

It only then that he finally eases the vibrator away, letting it fall to the mattress beside you where it continues its muffled hum against the sheets. His fingers slow, gentling their movements, stroking your inner walls with a tender caress. His gaze locked on your face, taking in every shuddering breath, every flutter of your eyelashes as you try to come down from your high.

"It's okay...," he murmurs, his voice a low and soothing. "Breathe, baby."

You are dragging air into your lungs in great, heaving gulps. Your body feels like it's made of liquid in his grip. The aftershocks ripple through you, smaller waves that make your muscles twitch involuntarily. You can feel the slickness coating his fingers, dripping down onto his palm, soaking into the denim stretched across his lap.

The room is filled with the uneven sound of your breathing and the slick sound of him slowly withdrawing his fingers from your clenching heat. You whimper at the loss, your body still twitching and clenching around nothing.

Leon brings his hand up, his fingers glistening thickly with your cum, strings of it connecting his digits. He stares at the mess coating his skin, his chest heaving slightly, his eyes dark with a hunger that hasn't been sated in the slightest, if anything, it's only whetted his appetite. He brings his fingers to his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste you, groaning low in his throat at the flavor.

"Sweet," he mutters before sticking his fingers in his mouth to suck them clean. The sight sends a fresh pulse of heat through your exhausted body. You reach up, your hand trembling as you cup his jaw, feeling the scratch of stubble against your palm.

"Leon," you whimper and he leans down immediately, capturing your mouth in a deep and slow kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue, salt and your own release mixing with the unique flavor of his skin. His hips shift against you, and you feel his erection through his jeans.

Your hand slides down between your bodies, seeking the source of the heat pressing into you. Your palm presses against the length of him trapped beneath the denim, and he hisses against your lips, a sharp intake of breath through gritted teeth. His hips buck involuntarily, a reflexive thrust into your touch that sends a jolt of electricity through your palm. He’s rock hard, thick and straining against his denim pants.

He pulls back suddenly, the loss of his body heat leaving you cold for a split second. His hands move to the waistband of his jeans, the metal button snaps open before he drags the zipper down, the teeth parting with a harsh rasp, and shoves the rough denim down his hips just enough to free himself.

His cock springs out slapping against his lower abdomen. The tip is flushed a dark red, already beading with a pearlescent drop of precum that wells up. He fists himself, his large hand still slick with your arousal wrapping around his girth, and gives a slow rough stroke from base to tip. His eyes never leave yours watching your reaction as he squeezes the shaft, drawing another moan from his throat.

He shifts forward, settling between your spread thighs, the heat radiating against your oversensitive skin like a furnace. He hooks your legs over his arms and lifting them, folding you nearly in half. The position leaves you vulnerable, exposing you completely to him.

He notches the tip of his cock against your entrance, sliding it through your slippery folds to coat himself in your wetness. he presses just the broad tip in and your body reacts instantly, your inner walls fluttering in anticipation and trying to draw him in.

He braces one hand on the mattress by your head, the other gripping your hip to hold you, and begins to push inside. He fills you completely in one long slide, stretching you wide until he's seated to the hilt, his hips flush against yours. You gasp, your head falling back against the duvet, the fullness pushing the air from your lungs. He pauses his jaw tight, the muscles in his neck standing out as he fights not to just thrust wildly, letting you adjust to the size of him.

"Fuck," he grinds out, as he drops his forehead to your shoulder, pressing a hot open-mouthed kiss to the sweaty skin of your neck, his breath hitching against your throat.

Then, he shifts his weight, his hands slide from your hips to the backs of your thighs, gripping the soft flesh. He lifts your knees up toward your chest, bending you nearly in half as he hooks your calves over his broad shoulders. The position makes everything more intense, your hips tilted at a steep angle that opens you up to him. Your lower back presses against his thighs as he kneels upright, using his body weight to pin you down.

The first thrust drives the air from your lungs. He thrust into you with a deep, powerful snap of his hips, burying himself to the hilt in one stroke. He is deeper than before, and you feel him hit spots inside you that make your eyes close in overwhelming pleasure. A moan is pulled out of you from your throat with every thrust. Your hands fly out, scrabbling for purchase on his forearms, your nails digging into the muscle there, leaving crescent-shaped indentations in his skin.

"Leon!"

He pulls back until just the thick head of his cock remains inside you, pauses then slams inside again. He sets a punishing rhythm that rocks your entire body with each impact. The mattress creaks beneath you, the headboard thumps against the wall. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, holding you folded, using the leverage to drive deeper, chasing his own release with single-minded focus.

The wet slap of skin on skin fills the room, you're so slick from your earlier orgasm that he slides in and out with ease, each thrust accompanied by a lewd, squelching sound that makes heat flood your cheeks. Your pussy grips him tight, the sensitive walls fluttering and clenching around his thickness with every stroke, trying to keep him inside.

"So fucking tight," he growls, his voice strained, rough with need. Sweat beads on his forehead, a single drop sliding down his temple to drip onto your chest. His eyes are locked on where you're joined, watching himself disappear into you over and over, watching the way your body stretches to accommodate him, your arousal coats his shaft creating a creamy ring before it drips down onto the sheets into a dark wet stain. "Look at you."

You can't even look if you wanted to, your head is thrown back, your spine arched as much as the position allows. The pressure of being folded in half makes everything more intense, the angle has him grinding against that soft sensitive spot inside you with every thrust, the one his fingers found earlier, and the stimulation is pushing you toward a precipice.

"Please," you gasp.

He leans forward, pressing your knees closer to your chest, folding you tighter. The shift drives him deeper, and you sob, your body trembling violently beneath him. He's everywhere, inside you, around you, his scent filling your lungs, his weight pinning you to the mattress. You're trapped in the cage of his body, helpless to do anything but take what he gives you, overwhelmed by him.

He fucks into you harder, each thrust punctuated by a grunt of effort, the muscles in his shoulders and arms flexing as he uses your body for his pleasure. The coil in your belly winds tight, faster this time, the overstimulation pushing you toward another peak.

"Come on, baby," he demands, one hand releases your thigh to snake between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and pressing down hard. He circles the swollen nub in rough, quick strokes, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. "I want to feel you come on my cock."

That's all it takes for you to reach your second orgasm, ripping through you with even more violence than the first. You moan, your body seizing up, your back bowing as much as it can, your pussy clamping down on him. The contractions are so strong they almost push him out, dragging a groan from his throat. He holds firm, fucking you through it, his thrusts becoming erratic, losing their rhythm as he chases his own end.

He buries himself deep one last time, his hips grinding against yours as he finds his release. You feel him paint the inside you in his thick spurts of cum, filling you, the mixture of your releases beginning to leak out around him.

He collapses forward, catching himself on his forearms to keep from crushing you completely. His forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard, your chests heaving in tandem.

Your fingers loosen their grip on his shoulders, sliding up his sweat slicked nape to cradle the back of his head, threading through his dampened hair. "Welcome home...I missed you." You whisper to him sweetly. Leon huffs out a breathless laugh against your neck, the warm air making you shiver, before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

✦┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈✦ 𝖆 𝖓 𝖔 𝖙𝖊 ✦┈┈┈┈┈┈┈✦

Thank you! I'm so glad you like my page and that you trust me with this, anon!!! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ...I love the catching your partner masturbating trope and eat it up every single time. Side note writing smut is interesting...I don't know if it's like this for anyone else but it's so easy to get distracted looking for "references" lol

It's hard to focus on the positives when the debrief takes too damn long, and not for any serious reasons, but because two of the most bureaucratic office-workers, ones who had no idea what they even sent their field agents into, decide to get in an argument over petty details. He nearly walks out before someone manages to get them to shut up. It had eaten up forty-five minutes. He could've been home by now.

Finally out of the offices, discharged officially from duty for about a week to recover, he heads to the parking lot. His car greets him in the same spot, but there's a note on the windshield. He stops in his tracks, closing his eyes and tilting his head upwards in defeat. Of course someone hit his fucking car.

It's just a scratch, but he'll have to get work done to fix it. He grumbles under his breath, trying his best to remember that you're waiting for him, a mere half an hour drive away.

He daydreams about your place, filled with reminders of you. Sheets smelling of your favorite laundry detergent. Two drawers and a space in the closet that you cleared out for him since he practically lives there. A framed photo of the two of you. Trinkets he'd brought you, and trinkets you brought him that he insists stay at your place. It's warmer there, lived in. He wants them to have a home. His apartment is an empty, cold place with an unmade bed, a handle of whiskey, and not much else. He doesn't remember the last time he was even there. When he isn't working, he's with you. It's all he really needs.

Of course, he gets stuck in traffic.

He grips the wheel in frustration, letting out a deep sigh. He tries to convince himself it's a line of coincidences, and not a strike of his repeatedly bad luck. This time, there were just far less stakes. He isn't going to die. Although it surely feels that way, a week home with you being dangled over his head like a dog's favorite snack. The only thing in the way currently is everyone and their mother slowing down to look at someone with a tire blowout. 

Finally, finally, he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex. And of course, the elevator is broken. At this point, he just laughs dryly, beginning the ascent up four flights of stairs.

"Anything else?" He mutters to the world.

When he reaches your door, he fumbles with the spare key you'd given him long ago, finally pushing in the lock and being welcomed into his favorite place on earth. Leftover curry sits on the stove, a lonely dirty dish in the sink, and an empty, clean one set at the small dining table. The two chairs are still pushed together from dinner before he had left. You refuse to sit across from him when you're alone.

"All that useless space between us? No thanks."

His stomach twists with guilt at the sight. You had left it all set out in case he came home. He wonders if you've done that every night.

Leon begins to undress as he moves toward your bedroom door. Holsters, shoulder pads, belt, boots, each one come off in succession as he goes, eventually a pile in the corner of the room for him to collect later. The last bit of weight is lifted from his shoulders when he hears your soft singing float from under the shower running. Suddenly all his bad luck feels cancelled out. He makes sure to knock before entering, lest he get punched square in the nose.

You stiffen at the sudden knock, but immediately relax at the deep, rough voice assuring you he isn't a random intruder.

"It's me," Leon says. You peek around the shower curtain, his familiar blue eyes already glued to your figure. "Mind if I join?"

"I dunno," you hum. "What's in it for me?"

"Selfish," he chuckles, knowing that statement is a complete lie. He begins to strip out of the remainder of his clothes, ready to trade them for your skin on his. He takes three wide strides before stepping in the shower and engulfing you in his arms. You giggle at his enthusiasm. Leon lets out the world's biggest sigh as the remainder of his stress floats away, holding you tight. Your skin is pleasantly warm from the water, and he hardly minds being the left outside of the stream. It's not cold as long as he has you.

"Missed you," you turn, shoving your face in the crook of his neck. He feels every muscle in his body relax. Your touch is better than any masseuse could ever be.

"I missed you, too." His voice is soft, mixing with the pleasant white noise of the water hitting your back, the tiles. You pull back just enough to look at him, all doe eyes and softness. He loves you so damn much. He rests his open palm to your cheek, tugging you close to kiss you. It's gentle, but deep. A little desperate. A confession of just how much he's missed you, even if he was only gone less than a week. Any time is too much away from you.

He groans when your tongue pushes into his mouth, your chest pressing further against his. His hands slip down to grip at your ass and uses the leverage to pull you impossibly closer. You break the kiss, breathless, looking up at him with realization. He cocks a questioning eyebrow as you begin to scan his body for injuries. He lets you, knowing you won't relent until you know if he's hurt.

"No injuries?"

"Not a scratch," his hand sits at the curve of your waist. He's leaning closer and closer, and you almost don't register it, your mind somewhere else.

"You probably need to eat, I left you some food on the stove-" He cuts you off with another kiss. All you can do is make a noise of surprise, and he chuckles deeply before deepening the kiss. Your mouth is so warm, familiar, and you taste a little bit like your favorite chapstick. He can't get enough of you. Leon pulls away, only a millimeter, your chin between his fingers.

"Only thing I feel like eating right now is you," He feels a sense of satisfaction at the rising heat in your cheeks, visible even with the warmth of the shower heating your skin. Another quick, messy kiss before he continues. "And I'm starving."

True to his word, he kneels on the hard tile of the floor, already tired joints protesting, but he couldn't give less of a fuck. He's been dying to touch you all week, and now that you're here, warm and blushing under his touch, it couldn't be any more delicious for him.

"Fuck," falls from your lips in a sigh as he licks a stripe across your slit. He leaves a kiss on your inner thigh, smiling smugly at the relief on your face. He sucks a love bite where he'd just kissed before he dares to stroke his thumb over you. You're already wet.

"You've been missing me that bad, huh?" You think you could collapse from the smirk on his face between your legs. He pushes you against the wall and throws your leg on his shoulder, spreading for him. He licks again, and you know your fate is sealed once he starts focusing on your clit, all gentle licks and sucks to not overstimulate you just yet. "Talk to me, baby, wanna hear you."

"Feels so good," you groan as he continues, sucking a seal around your clit, tongue laving over your vulva. You moan even louder as he presses harder into you, nose giving delicious pressure for you to buck your hips on. It's his turn to moan into you. He loves when you get desperate like this. "Leon," you look down at him again, his baby blues already laser-focused on you. "Can you... fuck-" it's a struggle for you to get any words out when he spreads you open more, directly going for that little bud that has your legs shaking.

"What, sweetheart?" You tug at his hair in slight annoyance at his teasing smirk, face wet with water and your slick.

"Fuck you," you shove his face back down to your pussy before he can say that's the plan. "Need your fingers." You finally manage, and he complies without hesitation. One digit rubs softly at your entrance before slipping in, pumping deliciously slow. "Ohhh my god," you sigh as he returns to sucking your clit. The tension inside of you suddenly begins to build fast as he rubs over the perfect spot inside you. Leon can feel you tightening around him as he slips a second finger in, your moans only motivating him faster. He releases your clit to talk you closer.

"C'mon, angel," he kisses you more on your inner thigh, the crease between where your hip and your leg meet. "Doing so well."

"'M getting close."

"I know, baby," his thumb rubs messily at your clit as you whine. "Come for me." His stubble scratches deliciously against you when he goes back down for more, tight seal on your clit, fingers curling to hit that perfect spot inside you. You'll never understand how he has the wrist strength to hit it so perfectly in such a punishing speed. You can feel the tension getting tighter and tighter, your moans becoming louder. He's encouraging you the whole way, his own groans vibrating against you deliciously.

Just like that, it snaps, and his name falls from your lips in pleasure, your nails digging into your shoulder as you hold onto him desperately. He eats you through it, making you tremble with bone shattering pleasure. You twitch against him, and he pushes your hips against the tile wall to hold you down as he drinks you all up like he's never been thirstier in his life.

As the high slows into something fuzzier, he finally relents, trailing kisses from your thighs to your soft tummy. "Good girl," he praises against your skin as he rises to meet your lips again. His fingers knead at your hips, and he presses his erection against your thigh greedily. You lick into his mouth, and he gasps an uncontrolled, deep groan when you trace your finger down his cock.

"You want my mouth?" You ask, so sweetly like you weren't trying to suck his dick. In these moments, he wonders how you haven't killed him yet. He's so fucking hard it almost hurts.

"If you want," he murmurs, biting your lip, moving into another kiss.

"I asked what you want," your eyebrow is raised. "Use your words." You mock something he demands a lot from you, and the tables turned have him thrumming with arousal.

"Yeah," he's gentle, but firm enough to be sexy when he pushes you down to your knees this time. He thinks you must be some kind of god with the way you look up at him under your lashes, his cock mere inches from your sweet lips. "Want your mouth. Please."

"Someone's polite today," you smirk. He's scared he may cum immediately when you kiss the tip, already drooling pre-cum. Thankfully he has enough willpower to hold back, because the second his length enters your mouth, a guttural groan comes out of his chest without any control. He doesn't want this to end yet.

"You're gonna fucking kill me, sweetheart," he moans as you take him deeper. You hum with him still in your mouth, bobbing your head back and forth, a hand stroking the rest of his length. Even after all this time, Leon still can't believe how well you treat him. 

He's going to fuck the shit out of you for it. You deserve it.

Your pace increases the louder he gets, clearly determined to make him finish. Leon has to will himself to gently stop you, tugging you back to his mouth. He tastes his own pre-cum and tries not to think about how much it turns him on.

"Was I not good enough for you?" You tease, knowing exactly why he made you stop.

"Sure," he grumbles, beginning to suck a hickey on your neck like you were teenagers. You let out a breathy laugh at his next comment pressed into your skin. "That's why I was about to fucking bust, sure." You know he's getting lovingly frustrated with your teasing. He knows you like to rile him up. When Leon's frustrated, he gets demanding. You like being manhandled by him.

"Someone's grumpy."

"I'm not grumpy," he huffs, clearly grumpy. "You're... being a brat." Your teeth bite into your lower lip, and he cannot believe how fucking hot you are. He's going to eat you alive.

He's in the middle of kissing you like a starved animal, body dwarfing yours against the tile, cock teasingly close to your entrance, when the water is suddenly no longer warm, and turning cold fast. He doesn't break the kiss or hesitate in one second as he turns off the water with one hand, yanking open the shower curtain, and lifting you up in his grasp. He's not sure how he doesn't slip and send both of you to the ground. Your hands run greedily over his shoulders and biceps as he deposits you on the bathroom counter. Your nipples have pebbled at the sudden exposure to cold, and he takes the opportunity to thumb over them, squeezing them enough to make you whine.

"Too many fuckin' things going wrong," he mutters. "Keeping me from you." He doesn't elaborate. Its something you'll have to ask about later. "Been thinking about this all week."

"Not very focused on your work, then," you tut, egging him on. He practically growls and throws your arms above your head, holding you in place with one hand, the other still kneading at your breasts.

"You're really playing it up today, huh?" He grins wolfishly. "You wanna get treated like a brat?" You try your best to look innocent. Leon doesn't buy it, but he thinks you're cute, so he plays along. He pinches your nipple tighter and you moan quietly. "Don't get all shy on me now," he ducks down to nip at your jaw, all the way to underneath your ear, where he knows it makes you shiver pleasantly. "If you're so needy, tell me what you want, beautiful."

You're lightheaded with arousal this point, voice airy in his ear.

"Need you inside me. Please." He slides his cock against your swollen clit before you even finish. It's throbbing against you.

"That's all you want? Hm?" His fingers dig pleasantly into your hips. You're sure tomorrow his fingerprints will be all over you. "Like this?" He slides the tip in and stays frustratingly still. You squirm under his hold, desperate for more. "What?"

"Jesus Christ, put it all the way in, please," you're nearly crying from need. He can't believe he hasn't cum from just watching you beg. "Please. Leon." He never gets tired of hearing you say his name. So many times someone has called his name in fear, in desperation. You say it like it's your favorite word, like it's the only thing that matters. And now, you say it like it's your salvation.

"I love hearing you say my name," he pushes all the way in now, deliciously slow and deliberate. A small yes of relief falls from your lips and he eats it up. He watches you, drinks in every detail of your pleasure, your pretty face. He releases your wrists in favor of caressing your cheek. You lean into his palm immediately, melting under his touch. It makes his heart twist pleasantly to know you crave his hands on you, you feel safe with him. Safe enough for this, safe enough to be so teasing and playfully submissive to him. For all his bad luck today, his whole life, he thinks that maybe it's to balance out the luck he was given to have you in his life. You make a small surprised gasp when he kisses you almost chastely, so tender despite being bottomed out inside you. "I love you so much." He murmurs. You smile hard, ruining your bratty facade.

"I love you, too," your hands slide up his chest, resting over his pecs. He slips one of his hands over yours and threads his fingers with yours. He squeezes tightly, an extra sweet addendum to his I love you. You sigh as he moves slowly, a pace that makes you want to cry from how good it feels. Tears well in your eyes and you choke out a laugh. "Fuck, Leon."

"Yeah?" His eyes soften at your reaction, a silent ask if you're okay. You nod at him as he thumbs away a tear.

"C'mon, baby," you wrap your legs around his waist as he thrusts slowly, begging for more. "Ruin me." You're almost not ready as he thrusts increase in force, his hold on you bringing you closer. The counter might as well not be there, as he's practically holding you up now. Your neck lolls back in pleasure, mouth open wide in a silent moan. He's hitting you in that perfect, spongey spot that has your hips grinding back into his thrusts desperately.

"God I missed your pussy," Leon's language turns filthier, a telltale sign that he was starting to near his end. "Fuck, you feel so good on my cock."

"Just like that," you cry as he hits that deep spot in you over and over again. "Oh, shit." You feel the shift in your pleasure, a drop gaining momentum faster than you can control to prolong how good this feels. "Oh my god, Leon I-"

"Me too," he grunts, kissing you messily, all spit and desperation. "Fuck, cum for me, baby. So beautiful for me," he reaches down to rub at your clit and you can't control the near-scream from your mouth as you tighten around him. He moans in response, lips next to your ear to talk you through it. "That's it, cum all over me." He tugs at your earlobe with his teeth, slamming his hips into you over and over. "Good girl. Fuck, you're so hot. Look at you," his pace is punishing now as he nears his own climax. "Where do you want it, hm?"

"Shit, Leon, inside," you're trying to catch your breath, but it's impossible as he rails you into the counter, your head smacking back on the mirror. "Come inside me. Please."

"You're too fucking good to me," he reaches for your hand again, threading your fingers together as his groans turn into a whine. Your joined hands slam into the mirror behind you, and you'll be shocked if it isn't shattered. "Fuck, I'm cumming." He releases inside of you, cock and hips twitching and pressing your hips into the counter so hard you're scared it's going to break.

He lets his weight rest on you for a few minutes as the both of you catch your breath. You feel his pressure slowly release, his now soft cock slipping out of you, a trail of mixed arousal following. You shiver at the emptiness, now craving his touch as he moves away to grab a towel.

"I've got you," he's breathless, gentle as he cleans you up. Leon tries not to look at all the hand prints on the steamed mirror, lest he get hard all over again. He may have wanted that to last forever, but he doesn't think his sore muscles can handle more of that. You're not faring much better. Your legs tremble against his touch.

Once you're all cleaned up, he scoops you up to bring you to bed. While you relax into the sheets, he goes and double checks that the door is locked, as always, putting away the leftovers, turning on the bathroom fan to let some of the steam dissipate. You're already watching him when he pads back into the room, laying on your side like some renaissance painting. He admires the curve of your body for a moment from across the room, until you outstretch your arms for him.

"C'mere, handsome." He would never deny your touch. He pulls the blanket over the two of you as you snuggle into his chest, still damp with sweat. After a moment, your heartbeats settle to a normal rate, beating alongside each other. He traces his fingers over your shoulders, following down the curve of your spine, all the way down to your thigh now thrown over his hip. You yawn with a satisfied hum as you hug him close.

"Did your assignment go badly?" You suddenly ask. He looks down at you in confusion.

"No, why?"

"You mentioned things going wrong earlier," you mumble into his skin. He can feel your body relaxing as sleep's shadow stretches over you. He lightly scratches between your shoulder blades, then soothes it with some rubs, repeating the motion across the expanse of your back.

"Just some dumb luck," he doesn't elaborate for now. You're getting sleepy fast, and he's right behind you. He can't hold back a yawn. "Nothing to worry about, now. I've got you." He kisses your forehead twice. An extra to thank the universe for his luck.

you sat in your driveway, engine still running, staring through your window at the heavy sheets of rain hammering down on the pavement in a powerful crescendo. the short walk up your driveway suddenly felt like a trudge through a fierce snowstorm. you glance at your backseat, nearly a dozen flimsy brown paper bags overflowing with groceries. you groan, already imagining the bags disintegrating the moment you step out of your car. just as your hand reached for the door handle, bright, almost blinding headlights swept across your yard.

it was none other than leon, your stoic yet snarky neighbor, a well-rounded man who just couldn't seem to leave you be. the loud roar of his engine silenced as you watched him step out from his car without hesitation, rain soaking his hair and clothes immediately.

the fabric of his shirt stuck to his frame, emphasizing every muscle on his chest and protruding vein along his biceps. leon was pretty tall— not overbearingly tall, but certainly an ideal height. his solid, well-built frame came from years of physically straining work, a career that put more stress on his body than any gym ever could. his dark blond hair, usually carefully styled, was now plastered to his forehead, water droplets dripping from the ends and running down the sharp line of his jaw.

his eyes caught yours through the window, a small smile on his face even in the pouring rain. leon was usually quite stoic— quiet, observant, and to himself most days— but with you he was different. open, flirty, and a little too persistent. he just could not seem to leave you alone, and as embarrassing as it is to admit it, he was actually pretty helpful... especially in times like these. god, you wished you weren't so helpless around him.

he jogged over to your car, boots splashing through unsuspectingly deep puddles as he made it over to you, a playful smirk gracing his features. he tapped lightly on the glass with two knuckles, brow raised in a mildly teasing way that you'd quickly become accustomed to over the past few months living here.

you rolled the window down, allowing him to rest his elbow on the side of your car to speak to you. "stuck in the rain, huh, sweetheart?" he smiles, voice low and warm, carrying that familiar teasing lilt that made your skin raise with goosebumps. "or are you just here admiring the lovely weather while the rest of us get soaked?" you couldn't help the small smile that graced your face at his sly comment, shaking your head before explaining the predicament you were facing.

leon chuckles as you explain, hands pushing off your car and glancing towards the back as he notices the plethora of groceries. "unlock the back for me, beautiful. couldn't stand to see you get drenched like this." he smirks, winking at you as you unlock your car door for him. you can just feel the warmth creep up your neck at his words, your mind automatically associating the comment with something dirty. he knows exactly what he's doing, you think, swallowing your spit as you stare at him through your side mirror.

he worked quickly and efficiently— the way he always did when he was helping you with something. in no time, he had rounded up most of the heavy paper bags of food and other essentials in his arms. the sight of his biceps flexing under the soaked fabric of his shirt and the way his veins bulged against his forearms from the effort truly felt sinful. you could hardly draw your attention back to the task at hand as you ogled him. pushing your distracting thoughts away, you mentally prepare yourself to step out into the endless onslaught of rain.

grabbing the two lightest bags, you hurriedly jumped out of your car and dashed the short distance to your covered porch. by the time you reached it, you and leon were both thoroughly drenched, the earthy notes of petrichor sticking to your bodies. your clothes clung uncomfortably to your skin, and leon's grey t-shirt was practically glued to his torso, outlining every firm ridge and muscle across his chest, abdomen, and arms.

he set the bags down carefully against the brick so the contents inside wouldn't spill out, then ran a rough hand through his hair, squeezing the water out with his fist. leon turned to you, a soft, endearing smile on his face as water continued to drip down from his hair and down his face despite his efforts.

"see, told 'ya i'd save the day," he says, voice low and warm with that same teasing tone he always took with you. "can't have my favorite neighbor spilling all her groceries everywhere, right?" he chuckles, the deep sound sending shock waves up your spine as you smiled shyly up at him, brushing away a strand of hair that had gotten stuck to your face in your pursuit to the front door.

"thank you, leon... you really didn't have to come running over in the rain like that for me. i would've figured something out." you tell him, eyes locked onto his as you assess his expression. he waved you off and leaned against the porch post casually, arms crossing over his broad chest, causing his shirt to pull even tighter— if it could get any tighter, that is— across his shoulders and pectorals.

"i know you would've," he replied, smiling down at you, head tilted to the side. "you're stubborn like that, sweetheart. i'd know, you never want me to help you, 'cause you can do it yourself, right?" he nods towards you, a smirk playing across his face. you felt a small, knowing smile tug at your lips despite the way your cheeks were warming at his accusation. he wasn't wrong. you had turned down his help more than once, insisting you could handle your own. i mean, that's what you were used to growing up in the city— every man for himself. asking for help had always felt like a weakness.

but standing here on your porch, soaked to the bone with leon looking at you like that, it was getting harder for you to keep denying him.

water continued to drip steadily from his hair down to the rest of his body. you sucked in a sharp breath as you averted your gaze from his distracting frame and met his eyes once more. the longer you stood there, the more you noticed his eyes skimming over your rain-soaked form. your thin t-shirt was completely drenched, clinging uncomfortably to your curves and leaving very little to the imagination under his heavy gaze. to make matters worse, the black bra you'd chosen that morning with a delicate lace trim you now deeply regretted wearing—was clearly visible through the wet fabric.

leon's eyes lingered there for a moment, just long enough for you to look around awkwardly as you felt heat traveling up your neck and spreading across your cheeks. when his gaze finally lifted back to your face, there was a new darkness in those icy blue eyes, pupils blown wide and gaze intense under your faltering one. he pushed off the porch post and took a slow step closer, closing some of the distance between the two of you. rain continued to hammer down just beyond the overhang; the once loud pattering of raindrops reduced to white noise as you stared up at him.

"besides," he murmured, voice dropping lower as he stood mere inches away from you, "i don't mind getting a little wet, sweetheart. long as i get to help you out, yeah?" your breath catches at that, his suggestive tone making you inhale sharply. you instinctively crossed your arms over your chest, trying to hide the way your nipples had hardened from the cold rain and the intensity of his stare, but it only seemed to amuse him more.

leon's expression softens into something warmer, though the desire in his eyes was apparent. he reached out slowly, brushing his hand across your cheekbone to push a stray strand of hair out of your face and behind your ear. his calloused thumb lingered on your face for a moment, brushing against the swell of your cheek before pulling away.

"you're shivering, sweetheart," he said softly, a hint of concern in his voice mixed with slight amusement as his dark eyes assessed your form. "c'mon, let's get you inside. wouldn't want you to get a cold. i'll help you put everything away, yeah?" you blink dumbly, still a little dazed from the physical contact before nodding absentmindedly. you fiddle with your keys briefly, hands shaking slightly as you struggle to put the key in place. once you finally unlock the door, you hold it open for leon as he gathers the heavy bags again effortlessly, setting them down carefully on the island in your kitchen.

the sound of rain becomes muffled as you shut the door behind you with your foot, kicking your shoes off while carrying the two remaining bags into the kitchen before placing them next to the others. the air feels charged, the only sounds present in the room were your soft breaths and the steady drip of the water from both of your clothes onto the tile floor. you quickly find something to do with your hands, reaching into the bags to start putting your groceries away. you couldn't take the quiet atmosphere, never once gotten used to the quaint silence of suburbia.

leon didn't move to leave, instead, he leaned his hip against the counter and watched you with that calm, observant gaze that always made you nervous. his soaked shirt was still clinging to his skin sinfully, and you had to force yourself to not stare at the man.

after a long, quiet moment of you unpacking the goods, he spoke again, his voice lower and rougher around the edges.

"you know, i keep finding reasons to come over here," he said, pushing off the counter to step closer to your frame which had visibly stiffened at his words. "fixing your porch light, mowing that little strip of grass between our lawn, carrying your groceries..." he continued, voice dropping to a low, sultry drawl. "maybe i should stop pretending it's all just me being a good neighbor, huh, sweetheart?" you freeze at his boldness, intrigued at what he meant by "pretending." you'd figured leon was just lonely and liked your company, you'd been there, but you wouldn't have imagined this. perhaps you were much too oblivious to catch on.

leon was now just a foot away, looking down at you with a sultry expression that made your whole body feel hot. he leans down to your ear, deft hands twirling a damp strand of your hair between his pointer finger and thumb, the gesture surprisingly tender.

leon reached down with his other hand and gently took the eggs that you'd been holding dumbly from your hands, setting them down on the counter so he'd have your full attention. he then moved to place both of his large hands on the edge of the counter, caging you in. leon's head dipped lower, lips hovering just beside your ear so you could hear him clearly. you shuddered, breath catching in your throat at the close proximity. god, you think you might explode.

"i've been real patient, sweetheart," he purred lowly in your ear, breath fanning against your skin. "coming over with tools, fixing whatever you need, telling myself i'm just being helpful..." he confesses, and you swallow at his bluntness. you couldn't believe this was your life right now. you knew he was flirty, which was never an issue, but you didn't expect to like it as much as you did. you reveled in the closeness, exhaling softly as he continued.

"but if i'm being honest, darling," he pauses, hands gripping the counter tightly behind you, voice rough as he continues, "i'm not thinking about the fucking porch light or the leaky faucet. i'm thinking about you." he pulls back from your ear slowly, gaze flicking down to your chest again, where your wet t-shirt and black lace bra were still clearly visible. your chest was rising and falling faster than earlier, nipples visibly hardened from the cold rain and the heat of his attention. he curses under his breath, teeth tugging at his bottom lip as his eyes settle back on your face.

"but i'm no dummy, either, baby. don't act like you don't know what you're doing to me." he says, almost condescendingly, voice low and rough with barely restrained hunger. he leans in even closer, one hand leaving the counter behind you to slide boldly up your hip, thumb caressing the small of your waist through the soaked fabric. your breath hitches, eyes tracking his hand as you subconsciously lean into his touch.

"so tell me, you gonna keep playing dumb or are you finally gonna let me have you, huh?" the question hangs heavily in the air between you. leon doesn't move any closer, he just studies your expression closely with slow, deliberate circles of his thumb over the wet material of your shirt. his gaze is intense, unapologetic, almost daring you to look away from him. you stood, frozen in space, staring dumbly up at leon as you try and gather your thoughts. your mind felt foggy, the only thing you could truly focus on was leon's slow movements on your waist.

your lips are parted slightly and your heart thumps against your ribcage, your wide eyes staring into leon's half-lidded ones, the atmosphere in the room thick. you were at a loss for words. this was leon— your neighbor, the man who fixed your porch light without being asked, who carried your groceries in the rain, who always had that easy, soft smile for you. you'd caught yourself thinking about him more than you wanted to admit— the way his veiny arms flexed when he worked, the low timbre of his voice whenever he called you “sweetheart,” the way he'd wave at you every time you'd head inside from a long day at work.

and now he was right here, caging you against your own kitchen counter, telling you exactly what he wanted.

the chilly sensation the rain left on your body had long since subsided and your whole body now felt hot, burning under his stare as you struggled to form a coherent sentence. your mouth opened and closed embarrassingly, settling on shutting it as you melted under the intensity of his stare.

leon's thumb moved in those slow, maddening circles, occasionally brushing just beneath the hem of your shirt, teasing the bare skin of your waist. your skin was hot against his touch, goosebumps forming in wake of his cold thumb caressing the skin softly. he waited for your response, a brow raised in question as he smiled down at you softly.

after a few seconds of silence, he lets out a low, rough chuckle.

"look at you," he murmured, voice dripping with dark amusement. "too flustered to say anything? you're real cute, baby." he says, tilting his head slightly, eyes never leaving yours. his thumb dips just a little higher under your shirt each time, brushing against the sensitive skin just below your ribs. you twitch a little at the touch, his cold hands tickling the skin of your abdomen. his hands felt hypnotizing on you, as if every small circle he traced was pulling you in deeper into his trance.

"you don't have to be brave with words right now, baby." he continued, voice low and confident as he expertly assessed your nervous frame staring up at him. "i can see how fast your heart's racing." he says, breath fanning over your lips in a hushed whisper, "and i can definitely see how hard your nipples are pressing against that pretty black lace." he observes, eyes glancing down to your chest to punctuate his words before looking back up to your flushed face.

your spit caught in your throat in at his boldness. the rain had long since been forgotten, and you were no longer shivering. in fact, your whole body felt feverish under leon's intense, brooding stare. you wanted to say something, anything to not seem like a total ditz, but all you could do was stare up at him in a haze.

leon hums, offering you a sympathetic smile at your shyness. despite his soft expression, the heat behind his eyes never faltered.

"you've been driving me crazy for months, sweetheart," he confessed, letting out a soft exhale as his other hand reaches up to play with a loose strand of your hair again. "every time you smile at me all shy when i help you, when you bend over to tend to your flowers in those little shorts... i've had to walk away and tell myself to behave."

he leans in further, lips brushing the shell of your ear as his voice dropped to a rough whisper. you shudder, thighs pressing together as he presses a chaste kiss to the outside of your ear.

"but i'm done behaving, sweetheart. i won't play these games with you anymore." he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes again, bold and unapologetic. "so i'm only gonna ask once more," he said, thumb dipping higher, brushing under the curve of your breast where the wire of your bra sits. "you gonna keep playing shy... or are you gonna let me have you, baby?" he repeats, eyes piercing into yours with a gaze so intense you think you might explode.

the kitchen felt impossibly small. the rain was still pouring outside, but you had hardly noticed with the way leon's body was pressed so closed to yours. the air was almost suffocating with how hot his hand felt on your skin, looking at you like he was ready to devour you the second you said yes.

your mouth opened and closed again almost embarrassingly. you finally managed one shaky breath before the words slipped out, soft and breathless: "...i want you, leon." a slow, satisfied smirk spreads across leon's face, expression dark as he finally hears the words he'd been waiting to hear fall from your pretty lips for what felt like eons.

"that's my girl." he coos, the hand that was absentmindedly twirling your hair around his finger fervently pushing the strand behind your ear. without another second of hesitation, he cups the back of your neck and pulls you into a deep, hungry kiss. his lips are slightly chapped, slotting against yours perfectly as he kisses you like his life depends on it.

the kiss was anything but gentle— it was demanding, full of all the months of tension he'd been holding back. his hand traveled up the nape of your neck and into your hair, fingers threading through the wet strands as he tilted your head just the way he wanted, deepening the kiss with a low groan that vibrated against your mouth.

you melted into it, hands instinctively coming up to clutch at his soaked shirt, feeling his chest muscles flex under your touch. leon presses you back against the counter, one thick thigh sliding between your legs to keep you steady as he devoured your mouth. you gasped at the stimulation to your core, eyebrows furrowing as his tongue sweeps past your lips, brushing against your own wet muscle. you moan at the contact, the feeling of his tongue against yours so incredibly delicious as you feel a pit begin to settle in your stomach.

he finally pulls back for air, forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing hard. a thin string of saliva connected your lips for a moment before it broke, your lips glossy and hot from making out. leon's eyes were dark, half-lidded, and burning as he stared at you intensely.

"fuck..." he breathed, voice strained and low as he catches his breath. "been dying to hear you moan like that for months." his thigh presses a little firmer between your legs, giving you just enough pressure to make your hips twitch. you whine, tilting your head slightly, staring into leon's eyes with a desperate expression painted on your pretty face.

"so needy," he murmured, lips brushing against yours teasingly. you chase his lips, only to have him pull away at the last second, leaving you whining. he chuckles lowly, hand coming up from your waist to brush against your cheek. "i haven't even touched you properly yet, baby. you needed me that badly, huh, sweetheart?" you nod, desperate, biting your lips briefly before leon leans back in.

he kisses you once more— slower this time, savoring the soft moans and whimpers that leave your mouth as he moves his thigh subtly against your heat to give you some more friction. your mouth falls open slightly more, a whiny moan leaving your mouth as leon pulls away to ogle at your frame under him.

his hand delves under your shirt again, moving higher to cup your breast through the soaked lace of your bra. his thumb cascades over your pebbled nipple, making you arch into his touch with a soft, needy sound. he curses, looking down at you to gauge your reactions. he circles his thumb experimentally around your small, erect nub, a tightness forming in his damp pants as he watches you writhe under his touch.

"please, leon, more..." you whine. you bite your lip in a silent plea for more, staring up at him with a needy expression on your face.

"god, you're so responsive," he groans, voice heavy with desire as he watched your brows furrow at his touch. "look at you, already arching into my hand like you were made for it. this pretty thing's been teasing me too long, sweetheart. it's almost a shame it's going to have to come off, isn't it, baby?" he says, raising a brow teasingly before reaching under your shirt to undo the clasp of your damp bra.

leon's hands tug at the ends of your shirt, pulling the useless fabric up and over your head while you shrug out of it. he tosses the flimsy material on the island, eyes fixated on the one article of clothing he'd been dying to snatch off the whole night. hurriedly, leon's deft hands race to pull the bra off you in one smooth motion, setting it next to the shirt he'd just rid you of.

you couldn't stop the soft, breathy moan that escaped you as leon reached out to cup each of your breasts in his hands. "got such pretty tits, baby," he says, staring into your dazed eyes as he fondles them. "so fuckin' perfect." he squeezed them gently, pushing them together in his large palms before letting them settle again. he leans down, pressing hot, open mouth kisses down the column of your neck, sucking occasionally at the flesh until he reached your chest.

leon's tongue darts out to lick a thin, teasing stripe up your left nipple, his saliva coating the hardened bud. he blows ever so slightly, causing you to shiver at the cool sensation. you can't help but let out a strangled moan as his other hand works your right nipple, rolling it between his thumb and pointer finger. your core clenches as he finally take your nipple into his mouth, mouth sucking the nub fervently.

"fuck, leon... feels good..." you trail, hips subtly grinding down into the thick muscle of his thigh that was still pressed between your soaked core, desperate for more friction. leon groans deeply at the sound of your sweet voice, the low vibration traveling straight through your nipple he has trapped between his lips. his eyes flick up to meet yours, dark and burning with desire, while his thumb continues its slow, relentless assault on your right nipple.

"yeah, baby? feels so good, right?" he breathes out, pulling off your nipple with a wet pop, lips shiny with saliva. a thin string of spit connects his mouth to the swollen peak before it breaks. you nod with an embarrassing amount of enthusiasm, tears nearly pricking at your eyes just from how horny you are. your hips grind down on his meaty thigh harder this time, tiny, desperate moans slipping from your mouth as you stare at him, eyes practically begging him to give you more.

leon's eyes flare with dark satisfaction as he watches you nod so eagerly, tears threatening to fall from your eyes, hips grinding down harder against his thigh. "fuck, sweetheart..." he breathes, thumb giving your right nipple one last slow roll before his hands slide down to grip your waist. "look at you, so goddamn horny you're about to cry. you want it that bad already, huh, baby?" he leans in, pressing a small kiss to your collarbone, then trails lower, running his lips over your chest while his hands slide down to pop the button on your pants, pulling the zipper down in one smooth motion.

the damp fabric clings stubbornly to your skin as he tugs at it, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pants and panties together. you lift your hips to help him, elbow rested atop the counter behind you to balance yourself. he pulls the soaked layers down your legs in one steady pull, tossing them aside on the kitchen floor with a damp slap. the cool air kisses your overheated, dripping cunt and you shiver, a soft whimper escaping your lips under leon's quiet, intense stare. you're now completely bare in front of him, eyes gazing up at him needily as you gauge his expression.

leon is practically hypontized, his gaze dropping between your thighs, eyes darkening with raw, unrestrained hunger. he wets his lips slowly with his tongue, as if he's already imagining how good you're going to taste. he steps closer, right hand traveling down your abdomen and in between your thighs. his palm is warm against your skin, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. he slides two fingers between your thighs, running his middle finger through your slick slit, parting your folds and gathering your wetness.

a low, appreciative hum escapes him when he feels how incredibly soaked you are. he pulls his hand back and holds his glistening fingers up between you, the dim light catching on the shine coating the digit. his eyes pierce into yours as he brings the finger closer to your face, offering it to you.

"open," he murmurs, his voice rough and commanding as he presses his middle and ring finger to your lips. when your lips part obediently, he slides his fingers into your mouth, letting your taste yourself. his thumb brushes your bottom lip and you suck gently, eyes locked onto his.

"that's it, sweetheart. taste how fucking wet you are for me," he drawls, watching your tongue swirl around his finger with hooded eyes. "so wet, been thinking about this pretty little pussy for months." pulling his fingers free with a soft pop, he brings it to his own mouth, sucking it clean with a deep groan. the sight makes your core clench uncontrollably, begging to be stuffed with something, anything at this point.

and with that, leon drops to his knees in front of you, slinging one leg over his shoulder to open you up to him. you grip the counter behind you tightly, balancing yourself as leon grips the soft plush of your thighs. he leans in, hot breath fanning over your dripping cunt, and presses a soft, short kiss to your clit. you whine, eyes looking into his pleadingly.

he only smiles up at you from between your thighs, that dark, knowing smile that makes your stomach flip. he leans in again, dipping his head lower and licking a slow, thick stripe up your folds from your entrance to your clit. when he reaches the swollen bud, he flicks the wet muscle against it with the perfect pressure.

you twitch hard, a soft, needy moan slipping from your lips as sparks of pleasure rush through you.

gauging your reactions, leon hums lowly before taking your sensitive clit in between his lips, suckling the bundle of nerves while flicking his tongue. his tongue draws small, deliberate circles over the trapped bud, forcing out louder, higher pitched moans from you. the sensation is almost overwhelming. your hips jerk, a hand flying to his damp hair as he works you with his mouth. you fingers grip at his strands tighter than you mean to, earning a low groan from leon. the sound vibrates straight through your clit, head falling back ever so slightly as he continues his assault.

leon presses a single digit to your folds, running his finger up and down before pushing it past your lips. you're so wet that it slides in easily, but still he takes his time, curling it gently at first before pressing an additional finger to your clenching pussy. he pumps his fingers slowly, angling his fingers upwards in a hook to press against your g-spot.

"fuck, listen to those pretty sounds, sweetheart," he mumbles against your pussy, voice muffled and rough. "grippin' my fingers so tight, pussy's just been waiting for me to split her open..." his words vibrate through your clit as he continues to suck at your clit with such vigor that you feel tears prick at your eyes from how fucking good it feels. you let out a sob, eyebrows knitted together as you begin to feel a pressure tug at your lower abdomen.

his fingers begin to speed up, hooking upwards inside you as he feels for the spongy bump of your g-spot. every stroke makes wet, obscene sounds echo in the kitchen, mixing with your high pitched, breathy moans and the steady thrum of the rain outside.

you're trembling, hips jerking uncontrollably as the pleasure builds hotter and tighter with every curl of his fingers and every suck on your clit. your grip on his hair tightens even more, tugging hard enough to pull another groan from his throat. only when your thighs begin to shake violently around his head and your moans turn into desperate, broken cries does he finally pull his mouth off your clit with a wet pop. he looks up at you, lips and chin glistening with your arousal, eyes dark and burning.

"leon, w-what the fuck?" you sob out, a single tear rolling down your heated cheeks as you stare at him in desperation, eyebrows knitted together in confusion at your ruined orgasm. he chuckles darkly, fingers pulling out of your core as he rises to his feet to press a chaste kiss to your forehead to console you. he wipes the tear that rolls down your cheek and pushes your hair behind your ear while cooing at your frustrated form.

"not yet, sweetheart." he rasps, holding your chin in place with his thumb as he forces you to look at him. "i want you shaking and begging when i finally bury my cock in this tight little pussy." he whispers, pressing a brief kiss to your pouty lips as he stares down at you. reaching his strong arms under your thighs, he scoops you up in one smooth motion. your legs wrap around his waist automatically, your dripping cunt pressed hot and slick against his abdomen as he carries you up the stairs without any effort.

he walks down the hallway to your bedroom, having already known its location from when he came over to change the film which had desperately needed a replacement.

kicking open your bedroom door, he walks you over to the bed and sets you down in the middle, your form sprawling out as you prop yourself up on your elbows. leon stands at the end of the bed, pulling the tight shirt off his body as you watch in delight. he makes quick work of his jeans and boxers as well, tossing the articles of clothing aside as he descends onto the bed.

your mouth is open in awe as you ogle at his thick cock, the tip leaking with small dribbles of precum. he was big, the base thick and heavy, the shaft curving slightly upward with prominent veins running along its length. it twitched under your hungry gaze, another bead of precum sliding down the flushed head.

leon's lips curl into a smug, knowing smirk as he catches you staring. "you want this, sweetheart?" he purrs, voice low and rough with arousal. he wraps his large hand around the base, giving himself a slow, lazy stroke from root to tip, spreading the slick precum over the head. his eyes never leave yours, thick with lust.

your breath catches in your throat as you watch him stroke his thick cock right in front of you, the wet sound of his hand gliding over slick skin making your empty pussy clench desperately around nothing. the ruined orgasm still has your nerves buzzing, every inch of you hypersensitive and aching for relief.

leon's smirk deepens at your obvious hunger. "yeah... you do," he answers for you, voice a low, filthy rumble. he leans in close, releasing his cock and letting it slap heavy and wet against his abs. his hands slide up your thighs, thumbs digging into the soft flesh as he spreads you wider, exposing every inch of you to his hungry gaze. "look at that. so fuckin' desperate for me. dirty girl, dripping all over the sheets just from watching me stroke it." one thick finger drags through your folds, collecting your slick before he brings it to his mouth and sucks it clean. his eyes flutter shut for a second, like he's savoring he taste of you, then snap back open.

he shifts up the bed slowly, every muscle in his torso flexing as the mattress dips under his weight. his cock drags a scorching, sticky trail up your stomach, leaving a shiny smear of precum across your skin. when he settles between your thighs, the blunt, leaking head nudges right against your swollen clit, making your hips jerk up involuntarily. you let out a whine, your patience nearly spent as you glare at him, annoyed.

"easy, sweetheart," he chuckles darkly, pinning your hips down with one big hand. "you'll get it when i say so."

he rocks his hips forward, sliding the entire length of his cock along your pussy up and down, coating himself in your arousal until the wet, obscene sound of it fills the room. every pass bumping the head against your clit, then dragging back down to tease your entrance, never quite pushing inside. your hands fist the sheets, back arching, broken little whimpers spilling from your lips as the teasing from downstairs makes every nerve ending scream for more.

“leon… please—” you gasp, voice cracking. you were nearly about to give up.

“please what, sweetheart?” he taunts, leaning down to bite at your jaw, your throat, sucking a fresh mark into the skin just below your ear. “use your words, yeah? tell me exactly what you want me to do to this pretty little pussy.”

you’re shaking, thighs trembling around his waist, but the words tumble out anyway, much different from your bashful slurry of words before. you beg, lip quivering desperately as you nearly cry out of sheer frustration. “fuck me—god, leon, i need your cock inside me right now. please, i can’t—i need it—”

he groans against your neck, the sound vibrating through you. “that’s my girl.” in one smooth motion he flips you onto your stomach, yanking your hips up so you’re on your knees, ass high in the air. you barely have time to catch your breath before he’s gripping your hair and tugging your head back, angling it to look towards the mirror on the right side of your bedroom.

“mirror,” he growls against your ear. “eyes on the mirror the whole time, baby." he drawls, hands caressing the fat of your ass with his other hand as he presses himself against you.

your gaze shifts. the tall standing mirror reflects every filthy detail back at you. your flushed face, lips parted and swollen, eyes glossy and desperate. and behind you, leon, shoulders broad and muscle bulging, one hand fisted in your hair, the other gripping the base of his thick cock as he lines himself up.

he pushes in slowly, inch by inch, until the stretch burns so good your mouth falls open on a silent cry. you watch in the mirror as your pussy stretches obscenely around him, lips parting wide to take every thick vein, every ridge. the slight upward curve of his cock drags perfectly against that spot deep inside, making your walls flutter and squeeze. you feel as if you're on cloud nine right now, finally feeling satisfied as his thick cock stretches your cunt deliciously. you could cry right now, the fullness of his cock buried inside you so deep you swear you could feel him in your cervix.

“fuck, look at that, sweetheart,” he rasps, voice wrecked. his eyes are locked on the where your sexes connect in the mirror, watching himself disappear inside you. "so fuckin' tight. swallowing me like you were made for it." he bottoms out with a sharp snap of his hips, pelvis flush against your ass, balls heavy against your clit.

the sight his cock buried to the hilt inside your pussy makes you moan loud enough to echo off the walls. he doesn’t wait. he pulls back until only the flushed head remains inside, then slams forward again, setting a punishing rhythm that makes your whole body jolt. a creamy white ring coats his cock with every slow, rough drag inside your cunt as his hand grips the fat of your ass.

every thrust is on full display in the mirror. the way your back arches deeper, the way your tits bounce with every impact, the way your ass ripples when his hips slap against it. his cock glistens with your slick each time he drags it out before he drives back in.

leon’s hand slides around to your front, fingers finding your swollen clit again. he rubs tight, fast circles in time with his thrusts, never letting up. he leans over your body to your ear to and whispers, “watch yourself,” he orders, tugging your hair harder so you can’t look away. “watch how pretty you look getting fucked like this. watch that greedy little pussy take every inch.” he says, making eye contact with you in the mirror before letting up to set an even quicker pace.

you're already so close, so fucking close to cumming, the teasing from earlier making you hypersensitive to every rough thrust of his cock in your wet pussy. you feel that familiar knot again in your stomach, and you swear you could cry from how good his cock feels dragging against your walls— the slight upward curve that presses against your g-spot, the thick veins that adorn it from the base to the shaft—

“leon—i’m—fuck, i’m gonna—” your voice cracks, breaking into a sob.

“yeah? gonna cum already?” he growls, hips snapping harder, the headboard starting to knock against the wall. “do it. cum on my cock, sweetheart. let me feel it. let the mirror see how fucking beautiful you look when you fall apart.” look grunts out, expression nearly animalistic as he watches you intently in the mirror.

his fingers press harder on your clit, rubbing perfect circles, and that’s all it take for you to fall apart.

the orgasm rips through you like lightning, violent and blinding. your pussy clamps down around his cock like a vice, pulsing and gushing around him as you scream his name. in the mirror you watch yourself come undone, your eyes rolling back and mouth open in a broken cry, whole body shaking while he fucks you through it. Leon's pace never slows as he drags your orgasm out until you’re sobbing and twitching.

“good fucking girl... shit, just like that,” he groans, voice raw. his hips keep snapping forward in that same brutal rhythm, cock slamming deep into your spasming pussy even as you’re still coming apart, walls clamping and fluttering wildly around him. the wet, filthy squelch of your arousal mixes with the relentless slap of skin on skin, louder now that the headboard is hammering the wall in time with every thrust.

“fuck, sweetheart,” leon growls, voice wrecked and dark. his fingers never leave your clit, in fact— they press harder, rubbing those perfect, merciless circles even faster, dragging the orgasm out until it twists into something sharper, almost painful. your scream melts into a broken sob as the pleasure flips straight into overstimulation, every nerve screaming while your pussy keeps pulsing and gushing around his thick cock.

“leon—please, no—too much—” you choke out, but the words dissolve into another helpless cry when he grinds deep and circles your clit just right. in the mirror you’re forced to watch it all as your eyes roll back, and tears stream down your flushed cheeks.

“too much?” he laughs low and cruel against your ear, never missing a stroke. “you’re still sucking me in, sweetheart. look at that greedy little pussy... milking my cock like it never wants me to stop.” he yanks your head up higher by the hair so you can’t hide from the reflection. “watch yourself. watch how fucking beautiful you look when i ruin you.” he grunts, pulling you flush against his chest and forcing you into a headlock as his cock pistons in and out of you mercilessly.

your thighs start shaking violently, legs threatening to give out, but leon just bands one strong arm around your waist and holds you up, fucking you harder, deeper, his cock dragging relentlessly over that oversensitive spot inside you with every thrust. his hand on your waist lowers itself back to your clit to rub at it slick and fast, pushing you straight toward another peak before the first one has even faded.

“gonna give me another one already?” he taunts, voice rough with lust. “poor baby. 'c'mon, cum again for me, sweetheart." his pace never once falters, strong hand holding you up as he presses a small kiss behind your ear while encouraging you to cum on his cock.

the second orgasm hits you harder, sharper, almost too intense to bear. your whole body seizes, pussy clamping down like a vice as you gush around him for the second time, fresh slick squirting out around his cock and dripping messily down your thighs onto the sheets. you scream his name until your voice cracks, eyes screwed shut in the mirror before they snap open again, back arched impossibly, mouth open in a broken sob, tears pouring freely while your body jerks and twitches uncontrollably in his grip.

but leon still doesn’t let up.

he fucks you straight through it, hips pistoning faster, the wet slap of skin turning obscene and constant. his fingers keep torturing your swollen, oversensitive clit—pinching, rubbing, and flicking it until the pleasure flips into pure fire, every stroke making you sob and thrash against him. you collapse forward onto your elbows, face buried in the bed, ass still high and presented for him as he follows you down, blanketing your body completely.

“leon—i can’t—please—i can’t take it—” you’re babbling, drooling into the bed, legs kicking weakly as a third orgasm builds right on the heels of the last one, vicious and unstoppable.

“uh-uh,” he rasps, lips brushing your ear, voice dark and filthy. “i waited months for this little cunt,” he rasps, voice thick with everything he’s held back for so long. "so you can give me one more, sweetheart." leon purrs, his nails digging into your hips as he continues his relentless abuse to your cunt.

he yanks your head back again so you have no choice but to see your tear-streaked, ruined face. you’re practically limp in his arms as hot streams run down your face from the sheer pleasure. the way your pussy is stretched obscenely around his thick cock as it pounds into you without mercy, and the way your whole body trembles and jolts with every brutal thrust is enough for another pit in your stomach to build.

the orgasm that’s been building slams into you hard. and it drags through you in long, shuddering waves, your walls clamping down around him in tight, fluttering pulses while fresh slick gushes out around his cock. you watch it all in the mirror, your eyes glossy and unfocused, mouth open in a hoarse, broken cry, tears slipping down your flushed cheeks as your thighs shake violently.

“fuck… that’s it,” leon groans against your ear, voice raw and satisfied, his hips stuttering as he chases his orgasm. “look at that, sweetheart. look how fucking beautiful you are when you cum like that.”

you’re still twitching, still trying to catch your breath, when the overstimulation really sets in—sharp and electric, too much all at once. your hips jerk away on instinct, a wrecked sob tearing from your throat as the pleasure flips into something almost painful.

"shhh, i've got you," he murmurs against your neck, his voice losing its rough edge as his own release builds. "just one more thing, baby…" leon's breathing is ragged, his hips stuttering as he nears his release.

with a final, deep thrust, leon buries himself to the hilt and stills. he groans deeply, hips bucking as you milk him for all he's got. you feel him pulse inside you, hot, thick ropes of his cum filling you completely as he groans your name against your shoulder blade. his body trembles slightly, muscles tensing and then relaxing as he empties himself into you. it's a satisfying release that seems to go on forever, each pulse of his cock accompanied by a low, guttural sound of pure satisfaction.

leon stays buried deep for a long moment afterward, both of you breathing heavily in the quiet room. the rain has softened outside, now just a gentle patter against the windows. his weight is comforting on your back, his arms wrapped securely around your waist as he presses soft kisses along your spine.

when he finally pulls out, you collapse completely onto the bed, boneless and satisfied. he shifts beside you, gathering you into his arms and snuggling you into his side. you rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as his fingers gently stroke your hair.

"you okay?" he asks after a few moments of comfortable silence, his voice soft, a stark contrast to his rough, lust-ridden voice from a few minutes ago.

"mhm... so good." you mumble into his firm chest, and he lets out a breathy laugh at your reply. he strokes your hair gently, pressing a kiss to your hairline as he watches you catch your breath.

"yeah, baby?" he teases, settling into your arms as he thinks of what he wants to say. you're drifting off when he speaks again, his voice barely above a whisper. "i've wanted this for so long." although your eyes are heavy, you can't help the way your heart skips a beat at his words.

your eyes flutter open at his confession. "how long?" you ask curiously, mouth parted as you listen to the calm thrum of his heart against his chest.

"since the day you moved in," he admits, his thumb tracing circles on your shoulder. "that's why i kept coming up with excuses to see you. the porch light, the film, the fence… none of it... really needed fixing." he says, and it's a little endearing to see leon so honest... it was cute. the sleepiness wore off a bit, your lips curving into a smile as you think about all the times he's offered his help to you in the name of "being a good neighbor."

"what about the leaky faucet?" you ask, propping yourself up on an elbow to look at him better. "that one was actually dripping." you inquire, wriggling your eyebrows at him playfully.

leon grins wolfishly. "okay, that one was real. but i may have exaggerated how bad it was so i could come back a few times." he admits, fingers absentmindedly drawing shapes into the small of your back.

you shake your head, unable to stop smiling. "you're ridiculous." you huff out, mirroring his mannerisms by tracing hearts into his firm chest with your fingers, eyes focused on your movements.

"i tried to be subtle, sweetheart," he admits. "but i was losing my goddamn mind trying to tell you. tonight, when i saw you stuck in the rain... i knew i couldn't pretend anymore." your fingers still on his chest, biting back a smile as you take in his words. you had to admit, it felt nice to finally hear him be honest about how he felt, the flirting a precursor to his true feelings.

"i'm glad you didn't," you say, leaning up a bit to press a soft kiss to his lips. he responds immediately, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. when you pull away, he's smiling.

"so," he says, a boyish smile gracing his features, "what happens now?" he asks, genuine curiosity behind his playful eyes.

"well," you say thoughtfully, "you could start by not pretending things are broken just to talk to me." you giggle, staring at him in amusement as a wider smile breaks out on his features.

leon laughs, the sound warm and genuine. "deal." he says, trapping you tightly into his arms. you giggle, smacking at his biceps for him to release you. once he does, you look at him with a smirk plastered on your face.

"hey, leon?" you ask, staring into his eyes with a hint of mischief.

"yeah, sweetheart?" he asks, brows raised as he stares at you trying not to laugh.

"i think my kitchen sink might be making a weird noise." you say, biting your lips to stop the laugh that eventually does escape, burying your face in his bare chest.

he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. "i'll be over first thing in the morning to check it out."

© cametoile ♡ + ↻

But to you, it felt heated. The way he knew exactly what you liked, how to touch each part of you. It had your mind wandering off into filthy things. And He sensed it, the way your body tensed and squirmed.

He let a smirk pull at his lips, his hand drifting down lower, then slipping under your shirt to feel your skin.

“Like the movie?” His voice was a low murmur, head tilting to then press his lips against the shell of your ear. You hummed, nodding your head enthusiastically to hide the soft hitch of your breath.

His lips trailed down over your neck, breath warm against you as he let his hand nudge at the seam on your shorts. “Then I shouldn’t distract you, huh?” He smiled against your neck.

You knew what he was doing, he wanted to hear you say it, wanted it since the moment he felt your tummy clench under his hand. “I’m easily distracted.” You sighed right as his hand slid underneath the fabric.

His hand moved lower until his fingers slipped down over your clit, finding your entrance and humming low in his throat at the wetness already gathered there. “Been distracted awhile, already so wet for me.” I murmured before sucking softly at the side of your neck, your soft moan filling the air.

His fingers were slow as they gathered the wetness and moved back up over your clit, circling at a tortuously slow pace. Your back arched up slightly, thighs tensing at the attention. His free hand coming up to grope at your breast, kneading it gently in his grasp. “You’re so pretty like this, sweetheart.” His voice was a soft rumble, but it betrayed his own arousal.

His pace increased, only to ease up, fingers sliding down to slip past your entrance, making you gasp softly at the intrusion. “O-oh.. Leon” your hands grasping at his muscular thighs braced against your hips. He took that as his sigh to start dragging his fingers in and out, curling up to hit that spot that made your eyes roll back. The sounds you made covered the noise of the tv, soft whines and whimpers echoing off of the walls.

His speed increased, and his head moved to ghost his lips over your jaw. “That’s it, baby, just what you wanted, isn’t that right?” You could only nod, your fingers digging into his legs.

He felt you clench at his words, his smirk sharpening at the feeling. “Knew she’d like that.” He murmured, pulling back just enough to see your face. “Gonna cum for me?” He breathed, watching your head dig back into his shoulder as your orgasm built and tightened in your belly. “Yes, y-yes gonna cum-“ you cried as his palm made contact with your throbbing clit.

Your thighs spasmed as you came, white hot pleasure washing over you and clouding your sight, breathy moans falling from your lips. “There you go, baby” he cooed as his free hand moved back to your abdomen to cradle you, pressing you back down against him.

As much as he loved sweet, lazy nights holding each other, he’d never pass up the opportunity to see you like this.

His head tilts towards you, shaggy hair shifting as his gaze travels over you with interest. You stare back at him blankly, brows furrowing when you take in the scruffy stubble covering his jaw and the weathered look to his skin. He had to be at least twice your age, but even you could admit the man was stupidly handsome. You’re only left with more questions than you started with as you continue to stare at him, feeling bewildered. The flex of his gloved fingers catch in your periphery, distracting you as you glance down to find him piecing together a disassembled gun with practiced ease, the parts set out neatly on your desk. 

His voice is gruff when he speaks. “You’re younger than I expected.”

“You… were expecting me?” you ask, irritation seeping into your voice, patience growing thin. “Who the fuck are you?”

The man’s brows raise at your blunt question, fingers still moving deftly, his eyes flickering with mirth. 

“You know, the FBI promised me a warm welcome,” he says, the chair swiveling as he turns to face you fully. “Can’t exactly say you’re delivering on that promise.”

“Yeah well, I didn’t make any promises,” you retort, giving him a tight smile, watching as he leans forward, sliding his newly assembled gun back into its holster. “Besides, you still haven’t answered my question.”

He sighs, leaning forward, his arm outstretched as he offers you his hand. “Leon–”

He’s interrupted by the Unit Chief calling out your name. Your eyes narrow when you see the case file in his hands, glancing back at Leon before you leave him, stepping inside the Unit Chief’s office, the door clicking shut behind you.

“We’ve got two new bodies,” he says, handing you the case file. “Unsub’s been crossing jurisdictions and the local police department is… well, concerned to say the least. Think you can handle it?”

You nod, flicking through the pages, nose scrunching when you see the images of the crime scene – each more grisly than the last. Mutilated bodies, blood smeared across the walls, messily carved symbols etched into the wooden door of the victims’ home.

“Seems ritualistic,” you murmur, reading through the reports. You glance up at him, clutching the case file to your chest protectively. “You’re letting me take this alone? I’m flattered.”

“Ah,” the Unit Chief shakes his head, nodding towards Leon. “Not exactly.”

“What?” you scoff, looking at Leon who gives you a smile and waves through the glass. You glare at him, yanking the blinds shut. “The old man?” you hiss, “he’ll only slow me down.”

The Unit Chief sighs, taking a seat in his chair. “That man is Leon Kennedy. DSO. It’s only a precaution. He’s more experienced than any team we could put together and after what happened with Agent Ashcroft, the FBI is trying to be more… mindful.”

“Ashcroft?” you echo, remembering the Rhodes Hill incident. “That’s– that’s because they sent an analyst into the field of all things. She must’ve been terrified. I’m a field agent, I can handle myself.”

“Agent Kennedy took an interest in the case,” he replies, hands clasping together. “If there’s bioterrorism involved, he’ll be useful. If there isn’t, use him as an idea board. The Unit Chief peers up at you, his expression stern. “My decision is final.”

Your jaw works irritatedly before you huff out a heavy breath, nodding reluctantly. “Yes, sir.”

Despite your sour mood and the urge to slam the door shut, you carefully close it, making your way back to Leon. You drag a spare chair towards your desk, sinking down onto it. Leon shakes his head when you offer him the case file.

“I’ve already read it.”

“Huh,” you stare at him, lips pursing while your eyes squint in recognition. “Leon Scott Kennedy,” you drawl, jabbing your finger at him, “you’re the Raccoon City cop. I’ve heard stories about you. Shouldn’t you be…” you gesture to him pointedly, “retired?”

“Ouch,” Leon says, his hand moving to press against his chest as he feigns being hurt. “You really don’t want me here, do you?”

“All I know is that you’re some big-shot DSO agent that I don’t need on my case, Leon,” you shoot back, flipping open the file to read the autopsy reports more thoroughly.

“The first case you’ve ever been in charge of,” Leon muses, his leather gloves creaking softly as he picks up a stray pen, putting it back into its place. “I’m impressed. Not everyone gets to be a lead on a case like this. Then again, you’re pretty good at this kinda thing.”

Was he buttering you up? He had to be. You don’t bother looking up as you mark a few things of interest off on the report.

“Thank you,” you murmur, scrawling a few notes down on a notepad before you pause, head turning to find him watching you carefully. “How did you know that?” you ask, a hint of suspicion in your voice, “we’ve never met before.”

Leon shifts, grunting softly as he tries to get more comfortable in your chair. “I took the liberty of reading your file,” he replies flippantly, his expression darkening as he tries to work the chair’s jammed lever. “Fuckin’ chair… how do you sit in this all day?”

“I don’t sit all day!” you snap, “and you read my file? I don’t care if you have the fucking clearance, you can’t just–” 

You’re interrupted by a loud snap, teeth gritting together when you realize he’s pushed the lever too hard – or perhaps, underestimated his own strength – the lever cleanly detached and now clutched in Leon’s gloved hand. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he murmurs, setting the lever down on your desk, patting it awkwardly. “I’ll buy you a new chair.”

You have half a mind to reach over and strangle him. You even consider doing it, until he grumbles under his breath and shrugs off that jacket of his, your murderous intent forgotten as soon as you catch sight of his thick biceps. With those things, Leon could probably strangle you and have no problem doing it. 

The sheer size of him renders you incapable of tearing your gaze away, your stare settled firmly on his shoulders, arms and chest – every part of him unfairly thick and muscular – his skin-tight shirt leaving you barely conscious of the way your throat was beginning to dry up. 

Your newly broken chair creaks once more under Leon’s weight, the sound piercing through the haze of your shameless staring. You blink uncertainly, taking another lingering peek at his biceps while he’s too busy trying to get comfortable. 

“We’d better get going,” you announce, grabbing the file before standing up abruptly. “The local PD is probably waiting for us.”

“We can take my car,” Leon says as he follows you into the elevator.

“I’m not in the habit of getting into cars with strange men,” you say testily, pressing a button before turning to face him. 

“And I’m not in the habit of babysitting FBI agents,” Leon drawls, leaning against the wall of the elevator, his arms crossing over his chest. 

The movement makes his shirt stretch tighter if anything, the fabric clinging to his broad forearms stubbornly, his watch glinting softly in the lighting. Your head tilts, eyes narrowing with irritation when you register his insult. 

“No one asked you to babysit,” you say, shaking your head. “I have a gun,” you take it out of the holster attached to your hip, pointing it at him, “and I’m smart. I’ll have this case wrapped up in a day or two, so stay the fuck outta my way.”

A smile pulls at his lips, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he lifts his hands in mock-surrender. The amusement in his eyes makes him look a little younger, your heart fluttering with delight for a moment before you tamp it down violently. 

When the elevator comes to a stop, Leon takes your bag before you can protest, his gloved fingers brushing yours briefly. You step after him, brows raising with begrudging respect when you see his car. Big-shot DSO agent, your mind supplies as he puts your bag into the backseat, gesturing for you to get in. You sigh heavily, opening your mouth to argue but Leon’s already disappeared inside his car, the engine rumbling to life. Muttering a curse under your breath, you get in his car, pulling the door shut firmly. 

–

“What do you mean there’s only one room available?”

“What’s there to understand?” Leon asks, dangling the singular key in front of your face. “Rooms are all booked out. They’re celebrating some special harvest festival according to the receptionist.”

“Harvest festival?” you echo, peering up at him. “You gotta be fucking kidding me. That’s like the perfect cover for our unsub.”

“I would help,” he murmurs, nudging your shoulder gently to get you to step aside, “but you wanted me to, what was it?” you roll your eyes when he snaps his fingers, pretending to think. “Ah yes, stay the fuck outta your way.”

You snatch the key hanging from Leon’s finger, ignoring his aggrieved sigh as you push past him and stomp back down the stairs to the reception, ready to demand another room. All the receptionist does is give you an apologetic smile and offer you a discount. You swallow your pride as you trudge back up the stairs, doing your best to avoid Leon’s eyes when you find him leaning beside the room’s door, his brows raising amusedly.

“I don’t want to hear it,” you mutter, slotting the key into the lock.

Leon shrugs non-committally. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

The door is heavy as you push it open, Leon’s hand moving to keep it open for you as you step inside. You fumble in the darkness for the light switch at the same time Leon does, his strong, calloused fingers brushing over yours. It’s enough to have an unwanted shiver running down your spine, warmth blooming in your chest and a flush settling high on your cheeks despite your stubborn annoyance with him. 

“Fuck me.”

You follow his gaze when he swears, taking in the lit room. There’s a shitty couch in one corner, a tiny area with a coffee machine and table, and… a bed. 

“Okay,” you say slowly, staring at the one, pitiful bed you had been afforded. “Great! So I think you should go and chew out the receptionist.”

“I’m not doing that,” Leon scoffs, bending down to take off his boots, his gun clattering against the table as he sets it down. “I can take the couch.”

You look back at the couch, brows furrowing. “That’s really nice of you and all, Leon,” you begin, stepping further inside the small room, “but I don’t think you’re exactly going to fit.”

“You care about me or something?” he drawls, looking over at you with a smile as he opens his duffle bag to pull out a towel and a set of clothes. 

“Get over yourself. I’m just worried about your…” you gesture towards him vaguely, “potentially geriatric bones.”

Leon chokes on a laugh, his brows shooting up. “Geriatric? I’m 49. My bones are in perfect working order.”

“Right, nevermind. You did break my chair.”

“I did you a favor,” he retorts, slinging the towel around the back of his neck. “It was a hunk of junk.”

“It was in perfect working condition!” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Do you always defend inanimate objects with such passion?” Leon muses, stepping closer until he’s only a few inches away, head cocking to the side.

“When they’re close to my heart, yes.”

“A chair is close to your heart?”

You decide to double down. “Yes, Leon.”

“Huh,” he nods slowly, clicking his tongue. “You got attachment issues?”

“Did my file not tell you that?” you smile up at him snarkily.

Leon grins, shaking his head. “I’m afraid I skipped over your psych eval.”

He turns, disappearing into the bathroom. You glare at the door and huff out a sigh, removing your shoes before grabbing the case file and flopping down on the bed tiredly. You flick through the pages absentmindedly, settling on the symbols carved onto the door. You hadn’t seen anything remotely like it before and the database search you’d done earlier in the car had come up empty. 

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, glancing towards the bathroom.

You’d exhausted all your options save for one. A reluctant groan leaves you as you stand, approaching the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Hey, Leon?” you call out when you hear the spray of water come to a stop. “I… might have been a little difficult earlier,” your voice sounds strained, “but if you could maybe take another look at the file, then I would… you know, probably appreciate it or whatever.” You swallow, face twisting with discomfort. “Please?”

Leon laughs, the rich, deep sound seeping through the crevices. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he says, sounding entirely too entertained by your attempt to ask him for help. “I’ll take a look for you.”

You frown at the door, jolting when it swings open suddenly. A few wisps of steam escape, and you blink owlishly, finding yourself face-to-face with his bare chest. It’s hard to keep your gaze from wandering over his exposed skin, a light dusting of hair covering his chest coupled with a few scars. A strange, gurgling noise escapes you when he shifts back to grab his towel, his broad, muscled back now visible to you. You sway, moving to grip the doorframe, knees feeling weak. 

“You okay?” Leon murmurs, glancing over at you as he ruffles his damp hair, brows furrowing.

“Yes!”

Your voice is shrill, pitching up awkwardly until you clear your throat and give him an equally awkward smile. 

“Perfectly fine,” you clarify, this time sounding breathless as you try and fail to not look down, inhaling sharply when you see his defined abdomen and the dark, coarse hair below his navel, disappearing into the waistband of his sweatpants.

“It’s just that you look…” you trail off, fingers itching to reach out and squeeze and touch. Hot. Attractive. Fuckable. Really fucking fuckable for a 49-year-old man. “Like shit,” you settle on, the words tumbling out of you in a strained manner as you force yourself to meet his eyes. “You– you look like shit, Leon.” You pat his shoulder jerkily. “Unfortunately.”

“Right, sure,” he says, his head tilting as he stares down at you, unconvinced. “You really know how to flatter a man.”

“I’m charming like that,” you say, hands clasping behind your back. 

Leon hums, and you stare back up at him, gaze flitting away for one moment to get a glimpse of his left hand. No ring. Perfect. You pinch yourself as soon as the thought comes.

“You gonna let me out?”

“What?”

When Leon gestures towards you, you realize you’re still standing in front of him, blocking the way out. You move to the side sheepishly, pushing the case file into his chest quickly before locking yourself in the bathroom.

You let out an embarrassed groan once you’re in the shower, burying your face into your hands. What the fuck was wrong with you? There was no way that all it took was some dorky, attractive, older man to have you feeling out of sorts. A dull ache flares between your thighs at the thought of Leon, fingers sneaking past your folds to rub at your traitorously swollen clit. It doesn’t take much, just the image of his body pressed against yours, his arms wrapped around you, mouth pressed against your ear while he grunts–

You cum with a muffled whine. Scrubbing the rest of your mortification off of your skin with soap, you dry off, slipping into a pair of sleep shorts and a hoodie. You pad out of the bathroom to find Leon sitting at the table – thankfully with a shirt on – a few containers of food littered across its surface while he’s hunched over his laptop.

“Hey,” he greets when he sees you, gaze travelling over you briefly before turning his laptop towards you. “I had a look. Your guy might be part of a cult,” Leon brings up another image, showing it to you, “they’re not the exact same, but similar enough. Might be worth looking into.”

“Cult? That’s fun,” you murmur, dropping into the chair beside him, watching as he runs his hair through his hair. “Thank you for taking a look, and the food.”

His brows raise. “Those might be the most sincere words to come out of you today.”

“Shut up,” you say, although a small smile pulls at your lips.

Dinner is quick as you both make a plan for tomorrow – visit the local PD, check out the crime scene and investigate a few related areas of interest. Leon settles down on the couch soon after, adjusting his pillow a few times before grunting as he tries to get comfortable. You were right, he doesn’t fit. He looks so awfully crammed, knees bent and back hunched at an awkward angle that even you feel bad about it.

“Leon,” you say exasperatedly, “we can both fit on the bed. That can’t be good for your back.”

“This is fine,” he replies stubbornly, shifting onto his back uncomfortably, arm hanging off the edge. “I’ve slept in worse places.”

“I can’t deal with you complaining about your back tomorrow,” you say, gesturing towards the bed. You lay down, squirming to the side to make space. “See? You can have the other side.”

“You sure your boyfriend won’t mind?”

“What?” you ask confusedly, sitting up on your elbows. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Leon grunts as he gets to his feet, dropping down onto the bed without further protests. It’s a tight fit, but you both manage, a sliver of space left between your bodies. You stare up at the ceiling, lips pursing, feeling antsy. 

“Did you…” you glance over at him, feeling entirely too bold for your own good, “did you ask because you were interested?”

He stares back, brows raising. “Interested in what?”

“In what?” you repeat irritably, “are you seriously playing dumb?”

Leon smiles back at you, shrugging lazily. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Maybe if you clarified what it was you wanted from me–”

“I don’t want anything from you!” you sputter, flushing hot. The bed creaks as you flop onto your side, facing away from him. “You’re old and weird and infuriating and–”

“I feel like you’re avoiding my better qualities.”

“Fuck you.”

“Yeah, I know you want to, baby.”

It’s a miracle your neck doesn’t snap with how fast you turn to look at him. 

“May I remind you that this,” you gesture between your bodies wildly, “is a professional relationship?”

“Yeah?” Leon murmurs, raising his brows, “is that why you got off in the shower? Rubbed one out to make yourself feel better ‘bout liking me?” He looks unfazed when your jaw slackens, tapping the wall behind his head. “Thin walls.”

“That is none of your business.” You lean closer, eyes narrowing in an attempt to hide your growing embarrassment. “HR is going to have a fucking field day with you.”

You flop back onto your side, trying to put some distance between you, but there’s such a little space on the bed that you end up half-dangling over the edge. Leon doesn’t say anything, the silence between you thick and stretching on uncomfortably until you sit up, turning to face him.

He stares back at you, the bed creaking softly as he shifts, folding an arm under his head. His shirt stretches tight, thick bicep flexed and the sight is enough to make you lose your last nerve. 

Your hand cups his jaw, head dipping to press a kiss to his lips. It’s meant to be quick, fleeting, to get whatever the fuck you have bottled up inside of you. Leon doesn’t seem to agree as he returns your kiss roughly, stubble scratching against your skin, his hand moving to cup the back of your head, blocking your escape.

“Where’re you going?” he murmurs, lips brushing over yours.

“This–” you whine softly when he kisses the underside of your jaw, fingers tightening into his shirt. “This is a bad idea.”

“I happen to be full of those.”

“You’re so fucking corny,” you groan, mouth dropping open as he trails kisses along your jaw lazily.

His lips are soft, calloused fingers massaging your scalp whilst an arm slides around your waist to pull you into his side. Another whine escapes you, head tipping towards him as his hand wanders under the hem of your hoodie, hot skin drifting over your waist and higher, his thumb grazing the curve of your breast.

“And you’re a fucking brat,” Leon says, watching your expressions closely as you whine and pant, pulling him towards you for another kiss, arms wrapping around his neck tightly. 

He groans into your mouth, lips slotting over yours feverishly, his hand squeezing at the back of your neck. You squirm, throwing your leg over his hip, mewling when he licks into your mouth. Leon’s a good kisser, you think dazedly as his tongue strokes against yours in a filthy motion that has heat blistering in your stomach. His hand moves, circling around the front of your throat, squeezing gently.

You blink up at him hazily when he pulls away, lips slick with spit and pupils blown out. A smile spreads across your lips as you arch into him, hands sliding up over his strong forearm, fingers wrapping around his wrist.

“You can squeeze harder,” you whisper, pressing his fingers into your skin harder, gasping when he grants your request, eyes rolling back as the pressure around your throat constricts.

“That’s a little fucked up, baby,” Leon breathes out, watching as you writhe and suck in a ragged breath, his brows furrowing. 

His brows raise when you glare at him, leaning over you to let his nose nudge against yours, kissing you gently before he tightens his grip a little more, drawing out a choked noise from you. There’s a heady fog settling over your mind the more he keeps you from barely breathing, something slow and syrupy creeping into the crevices of your brain as he presses a kiss to your cheek. He’s letting go before long though, brushing the pad of his thumb over your lips roughly. 

“I can handle it,” you mumble hoarsely, head tipping as he massages your throat, huffing out a breath when he laughs against your cheek.

“Yeah?” Leon rasps, his gaze darkening when you suck his thumb into your mouth, tongue swirling around the digit needily, head lifting as you feign bobbing your head. “What, you want me to put you in your place or something? Is that what you need?”

The idea is appealing. You’ve been strung tight for months, between work and the never-ending cases that were stacking up on your desk, you hadn’t exactly gotten much time to yourself, to wind-down from the constant wear and tear brought about by the commitments demanded from you by the FBI.

“Maybe,” you say slowly, looking away. “I don’t know. I guess I just want some… attention or whatever.”

“From me?” Leon says, his fingers sliding over your jaw to guide your gaze back to him. “Your way of asking for attention is acting bratty?”

“I don’t know!” you sputter, pushing at his chest, feeling shy. 

“Oh, that’s cute,” he coos, smiling down at you. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll give you all the attention you fuckin’ need.”

You squeak when he moves suddenly, sitting up before he’s dragging you towards him, maneuvering you until you're bent over his lap. A whimper is punched out of you when he squeezes the fat of your ass through your shorts, lashes fluttering when each consecutive grope grows rougher until it stings lightly.

“Guess if you’re into choking, you should be into something like this,” Leon murmurs thoughtfully, squeezing your ass greedily. “‘s been a while since I’ve done this with someone.”

“Since you’ve– ah– groped someone?” you ask, hips wiggling when his touches disappear, ass lifting involuntarily to chase after his touch.

“Kissed, touched,” he sucks in a sharp breath, “groped… fucked.”

You glance at him over your shoulder, brows raising curiously. “Can you still get it up?”

A sharp yelp escapes you when his hand comes down on your ass, hard and punishing. It stings, the pain spreading out over your ass unforgivingly. You try and glare at him but his hand is coming down again, landing another heavy spank to your other ass cheek. 

“It was just a question!” you protest, squeaking when he spanks you again and again, eyes squeezing shut as the red-hot pain spreads over your ass, the ache in your pussy beginning to burrow deeper.

“I know,” Leon murmurs, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts. “Do you want me to stop?”

You pout into the sheets, voice quiet. “No.”

He huffs out a soft laugh, tapping your hip. You lift them, letting him tug your shorts down, mewling softly when he squeezes your ass, his fingers dipping past your panties, stretching them before letting them snap back against your skin.

“Cute panties,” he says, his hand rubbing over your stinging ass, fingers sneaking between your thighs, brushing over the drenched, ruined fabric. “Too bad you’ve made them all messy, baby. So fucking wet for me. You like my hand on your ass?”

“Yes,” you grumble, glaring at the wall. “Stop asking stupid questions, you jerk.”

You jolt when he spanks you, letting out an agitated breath when his hand palms over ass before coming down again in several repeated motions. A whimper escapes you when pleasure bleeds through your body, teeth sinking into your lower lip when the pace of Leon’s slaps quicken. It hurts but feels so good all the same, your thighs trying to squeeze together with how uncomfortably wet your pussy is becoming.

“Don’t– fuck! Don’t stop,” you mewl, arching your back, tears prickling at your eyes. “Leon– please ah–”

“Please?” Leon echoes, “look at that, you’re back to being polite. Good fuckin’ girl.”

You whine in agreement, nodding dazedly as you look back at him, unfocused eyes finding his lopsided smile, heart fluttering in your chest. You reach back for him, hand fighting his shirt, lips parting, eyes slipping shut when he leans towards you, head dropping to kiss you deeply, his fingers squeezing at your ass gently.

“You gonna stop being a brat? Hm? You wanna be my good girl, baby?” Leon rasps against your lips, stealing another soft kiss, his hands still palming at the blistering flesh of your ass, squeezing every now and again to force a pitiful whine out of you. He clicks his tongue when you slur, nose nudging against yours gently. “I asked you a question, sweetheart. Use your words for me.”

“Yes,” you manage out, pushing your ass back into his greedy, awaiting palm, a few stray tears dripping down your cheeks. “‘m gonna be– nghh– ‘m gonna be your good girl, Leon.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out, voice sounding rough as his thumb strokes over your cheek, wiping away the tears. “My sweet, pretty girl.”

“It– it hurts,” you babble, jerking in his lap when he rains an unsuspecting slap down onto your ass, teary eyes rolling back when his fingers slip between your thighs suddenly, rubbing at your swollen, aching clit through the dampened fabric of your panties. “Leon– ah fuck!”

“I know it does,” he soothes, pressing harder against your clit until your legs kick up, “but you asked for this, baby. Remember? You came up to me all pretty and said you wanted attention.”

“Stop being mean,” you hiccup, leaning into his palm when he offers it to you, nuzzling into the warm, rough skin.

“Mean?” Leon whispers, “‘m taking care of you, sweetheart.” He hums as he wipes away the saliva beading at the corner of your mouth, spreading it over your lips before his thumb presses down more firmly, a grunt of satisfaction leaving him when your lips part obediently. “There you go,” he breathes out, “suck on my thumb while I play with this needy, little pussy, baby.”

You whine, fingers clinging to his wrist as you suck lazily, tongue swirling around his thumb. His fingers rub against your wet panties, drawing out a soft mewl from you as he pets your clothed pussy.

“You can take them off,” you mumble around his thumb, biting gently before sucking again, happy to have your mouth occupied. “Want you to touch me.”

“I kinda like ‘em on,” Leon murmurs, his fingers grabbing at your thighs before they move, slipping past the waistband. “Besides, I can touch you like this.”

Your eyes flutter shut when his fingers glide through your sticky, puffy folds, breath hitching while Leon groans when he feels your wet pussy. His fingers are thicker than yours, slipping over the soft skin before the calloused pads find your clit. Your thighs twitch, toes curling when he starts to rub your clit using slow, measured circles.

“Is this how you do it?” he asks, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Did you play with your clit til you came in the shower?”

“Mhm,” you nod, peering up at him, lashes fluttering. You lap at his thumb, tongue flicking against the tip playfully, letting him watch. 

“Fuck,” Leon rumbles, his thumb brushing over your bottom teeth before rubbing against your tongue. “So fuckin’ gorgeous, sweetheart. Look at you.”

You smile, lips wrapping back around his thumb soon after, eyes rolling back when his fingers leave your clit to play with your fluttering hole. A long whine leaves you when he circles your hole teasingly, the tip of a finger pressing in briefly before he draws them back out to rub at your clit.

“Put ‘em in,” you mewl, hips beginning to roll against his hand, one of your hands squirming underneath you to try and move his wrist. “Leon,” you grumble, pulling his thumb out of your mouth when he tries to press against your tongue again. “Put ‘em in.”

“What happened to being polite?” he muses, dipping his finger in again and then pulling it out. 

“If you put ‘em in, I’ll be polite,” you reply, blinking up at him sweetly, a smug smile on your face.

Leon laughs, watching as your mouth drops open when he finally inches one finger inside of your clenching pussy, beginning to slowly fuck it in and out of you.

“Go on then,” he coaxes, “beg all pretty for me, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”

“P– nghh– please fuck me with your fingers,” you whimper, fingers moving to rub at your throbbing clit. “Please, Leon? Want– fuck– want another finger.”

He doesn’t make you beg any further, sinking another finger into you. You shove your face into the sheets, hips wiggling back to meet the thrust of his fingers, your fingers quickening their pace against your clit. 

“Taking me so good,” Leon murmurs, using his other hand to spread you open. You flush, feeling entirely too exposed as he stares down at your pussy stretching around his fingers. “Pretty fuckin’ pussy just sucking my fingers in.”

Your walls flutter around his fingers at that, hand reaching out for him blindly, fingers managing to curl into his shirt. You yank him down, mumbling something incoherent around his lips before dragging him down further, lips pressing against his. You moan into his mouth when he starts thrusting his fingers in and out of you harder, curling them just right. 

“Leon,” you pant against his mouth, biting his lower lip before tugging it. Leon groans, his fingers scissoring before you moan again, lapping at his lips. His eyes roll back when your lips find his neck, head tipping to bare more of it to you until you manage to move, crawling up onto his lap, his fingers slipping out of you momentarily.

His back hits the bed when you push at his chest, his fingers finding your pussy again, thumb rubbing at your clit while his fingers sink back inside. You shove your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in with a mewl, pawing at his firm chest as you let your hips drop, fucking yourself on his fingers.

“You gonna do that on my cock?” Leon moans, his fingers tangling in your hair when you kiss his neck feverishly, teeth scraping against his throat, the action enough to draw a hoarse growl from him. “Gonna ride my cock like you’re riding my fingers, gorgeous?”

“Yeah,” you murmur against his neck, latching onto his skin and sucking, all with the intent of leaving a mark of your own, like he had done on your ass. “Wanna– ahhh– wanna ride your cock, Leon.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, an arm clamping around your waist to hold you flush against him, his thumb pressing against your clit harder, the lewd noises of your pussy growing louder with every snap of his wrist. “You’re gonna drive me fucking insane.”

You smile against his throat, kissing the underside of his jaw when his throat bobs uncertainly.

“We haven’t even fucked yet,” you whisper, fingers slipping into his hair, pulling at the strands to make him expose his neck further, drawing out a pretty whine from his lips. “Think you can handle me?”

Your smile fades when his fingers pull out of you suddenly, a sharp yelp leaving you when he grabs your hips and manhandles you onto your stomach, the fabric of your panties tearing loudly as he rips them off of you and pulls your ass into the air. 

“Those were comfy!” you protest, glaring at him. “Leon?” you jolt when he slaps your ass hard, pulling your asscheeks apart. “Leon, wait– ah fuck!”

You squeal when he buries his face between your thighs, lurching forward unsteadily on your knees, hands grabbing out for the pillows. He’s ruthless, tongue gliding through your warm folds, drinking down your slick with a rough growl, his hands squeezing at your hips, tugging you back onto his mouth when you try and squirm away. The stubble on his cheeks and jaw isn’t helping, scratching against your skin deliciously as he nips and spits onto your cunt.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he snaps lowly, biting punishingly into your thigh when you try kicking at his chest. “Huh?”

“I didn’t–” your leg jerks when Leon bites the back of your thigh, fingers curling into the pillows tightly when he bites the fat of your ass soon after, tongue laving over the bite.

“You didn’t what?” Leon asks, thumb finding your swollen bud, his tongue drifting over the inner crease of your thigh, barely shy of your aching pussy. “You didn’t mean it, is that it, baby?” he drawls, wet fingers rubbing over your pussy. 

“Yes!” you choke out, hand slapping against the pillow when he sucks your clit into his mouth lazily, his nose pressing into your pussy, rough hands massaging your ass. “I– nghhhh– I didn’t mean it, Leon.”

“Oh, I think you did,” he sighs heavily, feigning disappointment. He clicks his tongue condescendingly. “I thought you were being my sweet girl, but turns out you’ve just got one hell of a mean streak. Just can’t help being a bit bratty, can you, pretty baby?”

“I’m not a brat,” you wail, shoving your face into the pillows the same time he presses his face into your pussy.

You don’t think anyone’s touched you like this before, let alone used their mouth like this. Leon’s strong, his hands clamping down onto you to keep you in place as he flicks his tongue over your clit, teeth scraping over the sensitive bud. You drool messily, whimpering and whining as he laps at your cunt, his tongue prodding against your hole.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper, glancing behind you, eyes wide to find Leon looking at you hungrily, his gaze dark and feral. You swallow nervously, thighs twitching when he kisses the curve of your ass. “Leon, Leon– oh fuck!”

A squeal escapes you when he presses his tongue into your clenching cunt, eyes squeezing shut so tightly that you feel dizzy, hips pressing back needily to meet the movements of his tongue. He fucks it into you, head tilting as he holds you against his mouth, a hand moving under your hoodie to stroke over the length of your back. 

You arch, mewling, hips swaying dazedly as he caresses your pussy with his tongue. A soft, ragged moan leaves you when his mouth moves, returning to your clit, toes curling when he presses his fingers back into you.

“You sound so pretty falling apart on my tongue,” Leon murmurs, rubbing his tongue over your clit with a groan, his fingers crooking inside of you. “You gonna cum, baby? Pretty pussy’s clenching around my fingers.”

“Nghhh–” you slur into the pillows, trying and failing to keep your eyes open, your lids drooping shut when his fingers press against that spot inside of you, his fingers rubbing over it with just the right amount of pressure. 

His stubble brushes against the backs of your thighs, lips soft as he trails hot kisses all over your skin. Your hips jerk when he fucks his fingers into you harder and faster, the pressure in your lower stomach growing greater. When his mouth latches back onto you, you moan loudly, knees beginning to buckle.

“Fuck! ‘m gonna cum– ‘m gonna fucking cum, Leon,” you whine, hugging the pillow to your chest, a sharp breath of air leaving you.

“Cum then, sweetheart,” he whispers, “be a good girl and cum for me.”

You cry out when he sucks harder on your clit, his face pressing harder into you, nose buried into your pussy. Leon groans loudly, the vibration shooting up through you, making your pussy clench around his fingers tightly. Your body trembles, knees giving out finally when his tongue flicks at your clit, another moan tearing its way out of your throat as you cum.

“That’s it,” Leon snarls, managing to hold you up despite your arms feeling rubber. “Cum just like that. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”

You whimper, still twitching as he laps at your cunt gently, tongue sweeping over your folds as he slurps down your slick, his thumb rubbing against your clit to draw out the final waves of your orgasm while his fingers slow their pace inside of you before pulling out completely.

Leon’s body is hot when he hovers above you, his hands brushing away the sweaty hair clinging to your skin, head dipping to press soft kisses to your cheek, his stubble oddly soothing as it rubs along your skin.

“You okay?” he asks softly, hands drifting down over your back, squeezing your waist soothingly, hands petting at your still reddened and slightly bruised ass. “I guess I’ve been a little pent up.”

“A little?” you murmur, fingers sliding into his hair when he kisses your neck. “I think you’re more than a little pent up, Leon.”

He grunts in agreement, dropping another kiss to your neck before laying down on his back, letting out a heavy breath. 

“I haven’t exactly had time to relax,” he sighs, “too many fucking responsibilities ever since Raccoon City.”

You hum, sitting up, arms still a little wobbly. Leon watches you, his eyes tracking your every movement. You smile at him, eyes twinkling, fingers hooking into the hem of your hoodie before you pull it up over your head, tossing it to the side. He sucks in a sharp breath when he sees your breasts, hand reaching out before he pauses mid-reach. You take his hand, pulling it toward your breast, smile growing wider when he squeezes.

“Are my tits helping you relax?” you ask innocently, hands landing on his chest as you swing a leg over his hip, straddling him.

“Guess so,” Leon says, his other hand joining the fray, squeezing your untouched breast. “Pretty fuckin’ tits, sweetheart.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you let him play with your tits, distracted momentarily by the way his fingers move – pinching and tugging, thumb sweeping over your hardened nipples. It’s when you shift on his lap that you become aware of how hard his cock is, hips rolling against the clothed length.

“To answer your question,” he murmurs, tracing the curve of your breast, gently cupping one in his hand, thumb stroking over the soft flesh. “I can, in fact, still get it up.”

You snort, unable to stop the laugh that bubbles out of you. Leon grins back, his head tilting as he peers up at you, hands sliding down over your sides to grab your waist.

“I didn’t doubt you for a second,” you breathe out, voice laced with amusement, your hands beginning to pull at his shirt. He helps you, lifting his arms so that you’re able to pull it up over his head easily. “You do look pretty good for a 49-year-old.”

You lean forward, kissing him gently before you trail kisses down his neck and over his chest, lips brushing over his thick pecs. Leon sighs, his eyes slipping shut, a hand cupping the back of your head as you continue to lay his skin with kisses. You kiss his scars tentatively, squirming lower to kiss his abdomen, tongue darting out to trace the defined ridges of his abdomen.

“You tryna make me cum?” Leon rasps, half-lidded eyes watching you as you bite at his side playfully.

“That is a priority, yes,” you say, following the trail of coarse hair that lies under his navel and the thick bulge laying further down.

His hands in your hair tighten when you nuzzle into his sweatpants, nose brushing against the fabric. When you breathe in, you can smell him, all heady and musky and arousal is seeping into your bones once more, mouth sucking at his clothed cock.

“As much fuck– I would like that,” he grumbles, hips bucking when you mouth at him again, spit dampening his sweatpants, “I’ll cum if you put your mouth on me, baby.”

“Just one suck,” you mumble stubbornly, pulling his sweatpants and boxers down. 

Your eyes widen when his cock bobs heavily, struggling with its own weight. You swallow, blinking dazedly as you take in the length and the thickness and the heavy balls that sit underneath. The tip is flushed angrily, darkened and dripping with globs of pre-cum that don’t seem to stop, his cock twitching when you lean towards it slowly.

“It’s big,” you whisper, glancing up at Leon before your eyes find his cock again, pussy beginning to throb as you imagine the stretch. “Really fucking big. You’re– you’re that hard for me?”

Leon grunts, his hand wrapping around his cock, giving it a quick pump. “Yeah, just for you, sweet girl.” He pumps it again, holding his cock towards you. “You said you wanted a taste, go ‘head, pretty baby.”

You don’t need any further invitation, licking your lips hungrily, tongue lolling out. You drag your tongue along the hot length of his cock, feeling the smooth skin and saltiness of his pre-cum. Leon groans, his hips bucking again, another glob of pre-cum dribbling out. You lean forward just in time, catching it on your tongue before your lips wrap around his thick cock.

“Fuck– fuck, baby,” Leon moans, twitching underneath you as you bob your head, beginning to suck. “Your mouth– hah– fuckkk.”

You peer up at him, eyes glittering as you let your tongue swirl around the head before you pull off, pressing a wet, sticky kiss to the tip of his cock. 

“Don’t do that,” he mutters hoarsely, shaking his head, “don’t fucking kiss my cock like you’re fucking in love with it.”

You do it again, brows raising when his cock twitches, looking over to find his hand clenched into the sheets, knuckles nearly white. 

“I think you like it,” you tease, moving to wrap your hand around his cock, stroking it slowly. “And… I think your cock likes it too.”

“Fuck me,” he growls, head tipping back when you take his cock back into your mouth, sucking and slurping lewdly. He groans and grunts through it, eyes peeling open to watch you swallow around his cock, your pupils blown wide with lust.

When his head lolls to the side, you take your chance, head dipping before he can stop you to suck one of his balls into your mouth. He tastes so dizzyingly nice, spit beginning to leak from the corners of your mouth. Leon’s cock kicks and you land one last kiss to the tip before he’s pulling you up towards him, muffling your whine with a messy kiss.

“Wanna ride it,” you mumble against his lips, worming closer, breasts squishing up against his firm chest.

Leon doesn’t answer, too busy tipping your head up by your chin to kiss you again, stealing your breath. You paw at his chest, fingers finally latching onto his thick biceps. Squeezing, you moan into his mouth when his tongue strokes against yours, arms wrapping around his neck as he pulls back up onto his lap. 

Your hips roll, bare pussy gliding along the length of his cock, the tip catching on your newly swollen clit, making you twitch. He refuses to let up with the kisses, groaning into your mouth when you pull at his hair, feverishly swallowing up every little noise that bleeds from your throat.

“Yeah?” he breathes out finally, head tipping back for a moment as he catches his breath, calloused hands squeezing at your hips. “You wanna bounce on it? Hm? This needy pussy of yours need a fat cock to keep it happy, baby?”

“Mhm,” you nod, biting your lip, arousal blistering over your skin, lust beginning to cloud your thoughts once more. You press closer, lips brushing against his ear as though telling him a secret. “It needs your fat cock, Leon.”

“C’mere,” he mutters roughly, moving you up onto your knees, hand grasping the base of his cock to hold it steady for you. “Sink down on it, sweetheart.”

You shift, lowering yourself slowly, letting out a muffled gasp when you start to take his cock, the head of it already beginning to stretch out your pussy as it bullies its way past your entrance.

“‘s just so fucking thick,” you moan softly, peering up at him.

Leon hums, his thumb stroking over your lower lip while his other hand strokes over your hip soothingly.

“You got it, baby,” he smiles, dropping a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You took my fingers and my mouth so fucking good. Only got a few inches left, yeah?”

Your brows furrow as you bite your lip harder, gasping when you finally take all of him, pussy fluttering around his cock wildly in an attempt to adjust to his sheer size. You feel so full, so much so that you think you can feel him in your stomach.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” Leon whispers, his arms wrapping around your waist as he leans against the headboard of the bed. “Take what you need from me, sweetheart. ‘s all yours.”

“Leon,” you mewl, dragging out the syllables of his name, whimpering against his mouth when he kisses your cheek. “I… I can’t,” you say, flushing hot, “it’s too big, I don’t–”

“Good girls don’t give up,” he breathes out, hands moving to squeeze at your waist, “not to mention you were so headstrong earlier. Where’s that attitude now, baby?”

“You fucked it outta me,” you retort poutily, shoving your face into the crook of his neck. 

“And to think you said I was old and weird– shit, baby–”

You relish in the loud, guttural groan he lets out when the walls of your pussy squeeze around him. Nuzzling closer, you kiss the spot under his ear before your hips move, rocking and rolling in a lazy rhythm as you get used to his size. 

“I’m not giving up,” you murmur, glancing up at him as he watches you, head tipping back when his hand moves up over your breasts, slipping between them to wrap around your throat. 

“Atta girl.”

Leon squeezes and you moan, grabbing his wrist as your knees dig into the bedding, hips beginning to rise and fall. He pulls you into a sloppy kiss, growling into your mouth, panting as his tongue slips over yours messily, his thumb prying your mouth open. You pant, tongue lolling out as you ride his cock, the bed creaking from your motions as you fuck yourself on his cock needily.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Leon rasps, watching you with dark eyes, his hair messy and hanging over one side of his face. “So fuckin’ gorgeous, sweetheart.”

You smile at him dopily, breath slowing when his hand tightens, starting to cut off your intake of oxygen. His nose nudges against yours, breath hot as he kisses you, lips working against yours eagerly until his grip loosens, letting you suck in a breath.

“You trust me that much?” Leon asks, smiling back at you with a feral look in his eyes when your hand wraps around his throat. “You think that’s a good idea, sweetheart? You wanna choke me out while you ride my cock?”

“Oh, you can take it,” you whisper, tightening your grip. Your movements don’t slow, thighs smacking against his as you bounce on his lap, your hand landing on his shoulder for leverage as you drop yourself down on his cock harder, setting a firmer rhythm. “Heard you– ahh– kicked ass back at Rhodes Hill.”

He grins, eyes glinting, a ragged noise leaving him when you pant into his mouth, licking at his lips. 

“Yeah, I still hah– got it,” Leon muses, hands squeezing at your ass. 

Your brows furrow when his grip tightens, a moan punched out of you when he grips your hips starting to lift you, using you as he fucks you on his cock. 

“That’s it,” he drawls, controlling the rhythm and you, his forehead pressing against yours as he jerks you up and down his thick, throbbing cock. “Take my fat fuckin’ cock, baby. Cute, little pussy’s just swallowing me up.”

You whimper, hand sliding to cup the nape of his neck, your bodies moving together as his cock carves its way through your pussy, nestling against that spot before it glides out and drives back in. His chest is pressed against yours, firm muscle pressed against your soft breasts, the coarse thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing along your clit. 

“Harder,” you whisper, eyes finding his, hips starting to sway back to meet his thrusts when he plants his feet into the bed, knees bending as he fucks his cock up into you. “Want it– nghh– harder, Leon.”

“That might strain my joints, baby,” he says softly, smiling up at him when you huff out an annoyed breath. “What? You were concerned about my bones.”

“Fuck your bones,” you groan, pushing at his chest, squirming off of his lap onto your hands and knees, ass swaying up into the air. You look back at him over your shoulder, hand worming between your thighs to spread yourself open for him, wet, dripping pussy all on display for him. “‘m so empty,” you whisper, voice lilting. “Fill me up?” You bat your lashes, “please?”

Leon mutters a low curse, his chest heaving as he rises up onto his knees, using your ankle to pull you toward him, his hand stroking his cock with uneven motions, knuckles tightening when he sees the slick webbing between your puffy folds and clinging to your thighs.

You’re half-expecting some witty remark, but all Leon does is brush a rough kiss to your shoulder, grunting into your ear before he’s notching the head of his cock against your aching pussy and driving his cock into you.

“Too– fuck! Too fast!” you squeal when he starts thrusting hard and fast, the bed beginning to rock with every snap of his hips.

“But you said you were empty,” Leon rumbles into your ear, “‘m just filling up this needy, pretty fucking cunt for you, sweetheart. So stop squirming,” his hand clamps down on your hips, “and fucking take it.”

You wail into the room, thrashing under him when his hips smack into your ass, balls slapping against your throbbing clit, the lewd noises echoing through the small space. He draws moan after moan out of you, his cock pounding into your pussy unforgivingly. You think you can feel it in your throat, his fat cock sliding through your gripping, fluttering walls. 

Leon’s body is draping over your back, his mouth settling right next to your ear as he grunts and groans. Your toes curl, back arching when he pushes down on the small of your back, his breathing ragged as he grinds his impossibly thick cock into you.

“Fuck,” you mewl, spying his flexed bicep near your head, drool pooling into your mouth. Your head tilts as the muscle bulges, all inhibitions lost when you follow the line of his arm to stare hazily at his veiny forearm. You lean towards his bicep, teeth sinking into the thick muscle with a moan.

Leon’s breath hitches, his hips stuttering for a moment when he realizes you’ve bit him before his thrusts start up again, his hot, heavy cock pounding back into your needy pussy. You lick his bicep, tongue laving over his warm skin, eyes rolling back when his arm moves, wrapping around your throat, his bicep pressed up against the side of your neck.

“You keep– fuck– staring at my arms, sweetheart,” Leon rasps, grinning against your cheek when you let out a choked moan, his breath cut off by a low moan of his own. “Is this what you need? A strong arm wrapped around your throat, fat cock pounding into your needy cunt and sweet, little kisses?” He punctuates his question by kissing your temple.

“I– nghhh– need you,” you whine, feeling dazed as he drops his weight onto you a little more, enough so that you can feel every inch of him against your back. 

You can’t really do anything but take it, his skin slapping against yours and breath rough in your ear. When his fingers move, finding your clit to rub the swollen bud, you whimper, clutching the sheets, nails raking against the fabric as the string of pleasure draws tighter.

“‘m gonna cum,” you say hoarsely, cunt clenching around his cock desperately. “Leon– Leon, Leon, Leon!”

“‘m right here, baby,” Leon whispers, kissing your cheek, “taking my cock so well. Doing so– fuck– good for me, yeah? Cum whenever you want, sweet girl, I’ve got you.”

Your body jerks when his fingers rub against your clit faster, a ragged scream erupting from you as you cum violently. Leon swears, his grip on you faltering, the arm on your throat drawing away as you twitch on his cock, grasping at the sheets, at the pillows until Leon offers you his hand.

Your fingers lace together with his and you squeeze tightly, gasping uncontrollably until his mouth finds yours, capturing your lips in a kiss. You whimper into his mouth, knees weak and thighs tired, your death-grip on his hand loosening when he soothes you with soft kisses. Your pussy clenches and Leon groans into your mouth, his hips jerking forward unevenly.

“‘m gonna cum too, pretty baby,” he grunts, fingers pushing at your ass gently, hips beginning to pull away. “Greedy, little pussy’s clenching around me too tight, I can’t–”

“Inside,” you mumble, letting your hips sway back tiredly, trying to swallow down the length of his cock. “Cum inside.”

“That’s– shittt– a bad idea, baby,” Leon groans, his head dropping forward to rest against your shoulder as his hips rock into you, pace stuttering.

You can feel his cock throb and twitch, a soft mewl escaping you. “You said you were full of bad ideas.”

Leon lets out a startled laugh, his breath coming out in short, choppy bursts. “I did– hahhh– I did say that. Take my cum then, sweetheart, gonna flood this perfect fuckin’ cunt with cum.”

He grips your hips, thrusting forward with a hard drive of his cock. Leon swears under his breath, his hips jerking into your ass as he cums, cock kicking and throbbing as hot, thick cum floods your pussy.

You let out a contented noise when he moans into your ear, low and guttural, the sound making you feel warm. His softening cock slips out after a few moments and Leon pulls himself away from you, the bed protesting under the weight of you both. You curl up into his side, head dropping over his chest, eyes drooping when you feel the steady beat of his heart.

Leon’s hand settles on your head, stroking over your hair lazily as he pants, chest rising and falling.

“Do you feel relaxed?” you murmur, peering up at him with a sleepy smile.

“I feel fucked out,” Leon mutters, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek, rubbing at the spot of drool that had pooled at the corner of your mouth. “You did a number on me, sweetheart.”

“I aim to please.”

He laughs, hauling you closer and you smile, kissing the underside of his jaw. “You went above and beyond, I can tell you that much.”

You snort, arms wrapping around his neck. “Am I gonna get that in writing?”

“I’ll think about it,” Leon murmurs, his fingers slipping under your chin to tip your head, lips pressing against yours. You hum into the kiss, fingers tangling in his soft hair, a quiet noise leaving you as he squeezes your ass.

When Leon pulls away, you chase after his lips, eyes fluttering shut when he returns your kiss just as eagerly, your thigh hooking over his hip, brows furrowing when you feel his cock against your thigh.

You look down, cheeks flushing when you find his spent cock beginning to harden, the fat length bobbing gently as it fills out.

“Already?” you murmur, sighing softly when he leaves stubbly kisses along your jaw.

“What can I say?” Leon whispers, his hips bucking when your hand wraps around his hardening cock. “You uh… bring out the best in me, I guess.”

You raise your brows, unable to stop the wide smile that spreads across your face. “Your best attribute is your cock? That’s a little disappointing.”

He grins, groaning when you kiss his pec. 

“You didn’t seem to think it was disappointing when I fucked you with it.”

“It is nice,” you acquiesce, head tipping back as he leans into you, trailing hot kisses down your neck, his hips beginning to rock lazily, meeting the strokes of your hand.

“I do have other nice, non-sexual attributes,” Leon says, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb stroking over your skin gently. There’s a light flush settled on his cheeks and he clears his throat, sucking in a soft breath when you squeeze his cock. “Maybe you’d like to find out sometime?”

Your smile softens, affection beginning to creep in through the cracks of your ribs. Leaning forward, you kiss him gently.

Training with Leon was the start. He was almost always your sparring partner, and you two ended up in many positions. He was constantly bashful about it, apologizing for accidentally touching your boob or grabbing your thigh too hard once the sparring was over. You, on the other hand, were always making jokes.

"Shit, I didn't mean to grab you like that." He'd hiss, yanking his hand away as he remained straddled above you.

"Aw, you don't wanna grab me?"

And then you'd flip him over, taking advantage of his anxious apologizing to finalize your 'win'.

Another prime example would be the many times you'd hit your head, and he'd check on you.

"How's your head?" He'd step up to you, watching you chug water and swallow it as you held the side of your head.

"No one's complained yet." You'd look at him, biting back a wince as your laughing only hurt your head more.

"You're shameless." He'd blush, looking away, but he'd remain by your side to help you and make sure nothing major was wrong.

That was years ago by now, and you two were paired up for a lot of things, so Leon became accustomed to your jokes and flirting. He never took it seriously because you told him it was only a joke—unless he didn't want it to be—and that couldn't happen, so it was always just jokes.

Recently, Leon was sent on a mission that he came back from with a new kind of exhaustion. He got back to his apartment, barely showered and changed before he spent the next 12 hours sleeping, absolutely conked out on his bed without even properly covering himself. Saving the president's daughter was exhausting.

When he woke up around 11 a.m. the next day, he didn't expect to smell toast with eggs and bacon, accompanied by music louder than he'd ever listen to at this time of day. He knew exactly who it was. He groaned, inhaling deeply as he stretched and nearly fell off of the bed. He scrambled to stay on the bed, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face in the pillows. He thought he'd get away with just pretending he was still sleeping.

"Leeeon!" He heard you from down the hall, only to hear a knock moments later.

"I'm naked!" Leon lied, voice dry and barely loud enough.

"Liar!" You called through the door, only to barge in and find the truth. He was still face down on his bed, clothes mussed up and hair an absolute mess. "Come on, I made food." You crawled into the bed to sit on the edge by his pillows.

He shamelessly reached out to push you off with his palm on your ass. "It's too early." He complained.

"Jesus, you're already getting handsy? Leon, you animal." You snickered as he pushed you away, his arm falling limp off the edge of the bed.

"Fuck you."

"I'm surprised you haven't."

"Why are you like this?" He lifted his head, squinting.

"You're the one who grabbed my ass cheek." Your hands lifted in a mock surrender, brows raising like your joke was purely innocent.

"Whatever. Get out so I can change." He threw the first thing he could find—a sweatshirt that he took off in the middle of his sleep—hitting you in the face and letting you catch it.

"Ugh, rude! You're not gonna let me watch? What kind of thank you is that?" You laughed as you walked out and closed the door behind you.

Leon took his time to get dressed, splashing his face with cold water to try and wake himself up and look less dead. He didn't bother to brush his hair, finally emerging from the room to find you, already made comfortable at his coffee table, sitting on the floor with two plates set. His had a little more—a small detail he'd grown fond of whenever he'd be treated to your cooking after long missions—primarily a few extra pieces of bacon.

He sat down wordlessly, picking up a piece of bacon and biting into it like he was about to die without it. His head fell forward, a groan leaving his chest as he savored the taste of real food.

"That good?" You snickered, biting into your toast.

"I haven't had real food in so long." He sounded almost emotional. You understood why.

"Jesus, you sound like you're about to fucking bust." You laughed, head thrown back with a hand over your mouth.

His head lifted, a frown on his face as he tore another bite from the bacon strip. "Bet you'd just love to see that, wouldn't you, you little pervert?"

"Or maybe you're just eager to give me a preview." Your giggles slowed as you continued to eat your food, staring at him from across the small table.

"I need to find someone else to cook for me. You're exhausting." He rolled his eyes, shoulders slouching as he focused on eating his food and relaxing in your company.

"You're too picky about meals. It's me, you, or nothing, pretty boy. Get used to it."

He huffed, but let it go by. He was used to it, and he wasn't complaining. Even if you were on the same mission or something worse, you'd do your best to come and help Leon when it was his turn to come home. He did the same for you, but it was more helping you clean or keep up with a routine.

It was your system. You needed help with routines, cleaning, and occasionally, just some grasp of reality. Leon needed help with cooking and motivation to get out of bed. It worked perfectly, even when your missions were misaligned. The stars aligned often enough to keep you two stable.

The rest of the meal was quiet, a comfortable silence and mutual understanding.

"You want more?" You asked, rising from your spot to circle the table and look down at him and his empty plate.

"Please?" He lifted the empty plate, offering it up to you. "Just some more toast, if you could. And maybe some more water?"

You gave him a thumbs up and a nod, taking his plate followed by his cup. You got him another piece of toast and a couple more pieces of bacon with more water to bring back to him.

"That 'nough?" You asked, handing him the plate and cup. He nodded, taking the plate and cup before murmuring a quick thank you. You waited, leaning against the couch as you sat on the floor and surfed some TV channels, settling on some bad reruns of an old show that you two binged a few times on DVD.

When Leon was finished and he had enough silence, he took care of the empty plates and cups before he came to sit with you on the floor, knees tugged to his chest as he settled comfortably. Everything was as usual. Your routine was steady. Silence, a bad TV show, an occasional comment about how bad the show was and how you had to stop rewatching it.

Clock ticked just past 1:30 p.m., and you stood up without warning. Leon looked up, lips pursed subconsciously. "Where you goin'?" He asked.

"It's about time I head out. I've gotta do laundry and run to the store. I also need a shower pretty bad." You explained, stretching your limbs with a deep sigh.

"Bring your laundry here." He said.

"Leon, your dryer takes so damn long." You laughed a little.

"I need laundry done, too. I start mine while you're gone. By the time you're back, mine will be in the dryer, and you can start yours, and then we can run to the store when yours is drying." He spewed his lazy idea, still staring up at you from his spot on the floor.

"If you want me to stay, you can say that." You said, crossing his living room to go back to the door, grabbing your keys and putting your shoes on.

"Then stay. Or grab your laundry and come back so you can still be productive." He pushed himself up, stumbling a little bit due to his leg being asleep.

"I'll be back in a half hour."

"Bring shower stuff so you can shower here, too." He called out as you stepped out, the door creaking shut.

You did exactly that. There was no reason you couldn't. You'd done it enough in the past. By the time you got back, Leon kept his promise of having the washer ready for your load with his already on high heat in the dryer, heavier clothes like jeans hung up to avoid extra dryer running.

"Yo! I'm back!" You called out to the seemingly empty apartment, kicking the door shut as you lugged your basket toward the hall closet where his washer and dryer were tucked away. Leon peeked out from his room.

"Took you long enough." He poked, leaning against the doorway as he watched you sort through what you needed to wash versus what could be left for next time.

"What, you can't keep yourself busy without me?"

"I can. And I did. It just took you a while." He huffed.

"You kept yourself busy, quit whining."

"I can whine all I want."

"I bet you do, you big baby."

"Don't make that dirty."

"I wasn't." You raised your hands in mock surrender, snickering. "You're the one who started it."

"I didn't." He frowned.

"You said you can whine all you want. I told you not to. You're the one whose head went to the gutter." You shot a mischievous grin toward him as you leaned over to start the washer once it was ready.

Leon didn't bother to hide the way his eyes were drawn down to your lower back, the small arch that led his eyes further down to the curve of your backside. You caught him, and neither of you mentioned it even as his gaze remained low when you turned to put your basket on top of the washer.

"Fix your neck, idiot. You're going to crane it so hard you'll give your neck a new pain." You said, reaching out to casually tilt his head up, tapping his cheek twice before you turned. "I'm going to shower while the washer runs. I'll be out soon."

"Don't use all my hot water."

"You'll survive. A cold shower might do you some good if you don't stop staring at me like that." You looked up at him as you passed him with your shower bag, grabbing one of his spare towels from the closet shelf.

"Mmh." He grumbled, turning away to go lie on his bed and wait for you. He spent ten scrolling on his phone before he heard the dryer buzz. He spent another five minutes sorting his laundry before he bent too far forward and was violently reminded of the fact he needed to change the bandages of a recent wound from the mission. It happened literally last minute, with his adrenaline at a high, so he forgot about it and barely paid attention to it. Now, he was receiving karma for it. His shoulder throbbed with pain, the cut right above where his arm bent.

He knocked on the bathroom door, eyes closed tight as he cracked the door. "Can I grab something real quick?" He called out, just loud enough over the water.

"Yeah, grab what you need!" You reached out from the curtain and waved a hand with a thumbs up.

Leon did so, stepping in and closing the door as he reached into the cabinet behind the mirror above the sink. He removed his shirt, undoing the old bandage. It wasn't a stitch worthy wound, but it was definitely gonna leave a mark. "Remind me never to go to Spain again." He joked lightly, discarding the old bandage as he checked it in the slightly foggy mirror.

"No, we'll go to a better town next time. One without a crazy cult. Spain is probably beautiful when it's not a small cult town." You peeked your head out, only to wince at the sight of his wound. "Yikes."

"Did you just say 'yikes'?" He huffed a laugh, brows furrowing as he drenched a clean rag in peroxide to clean the wound. It burned a lot less than alcohol, but it didn't keep him from leaning over the sink, gripping the edge like it had personally tried to kill him.

"Hold on. Let it breathe for a sec, and I'll help you." You said, turning the shower off. "I was just soaking, anyway, so I'm clean." You said, referring to how you'd always give yourself an extra couple of minutes to relax after you were fully cleaned. You grabbed the towel and wrapped it around yourself before you stepped out from behind the curtain.

"It's just a cut." He objected.

"Yeah, but it clearly hurts. You're going to break the counter." You said, reaching out to take the rag to wipe gently around the cut in slow, light touches.

"Ow! Motherfucker!" He groaned, shoulder yanking away as he instinctively pressed a hand to your chest to keep you at arms length.

You smacked his hand away, stepping closer and pressing the rag directly over the wound to let it soak in the peroxide. "It's not alcohol. Suck it up."

Leon's hand twitched, and instead of grabbing at the counter, it went to your side this time, right above your waistline to grasp onto the towel. "I hate you."

"No, you don't. Or you wouldn't be grabbing at me like this while I'm nearly naked."

"Must you point that out?"

"What? It's funny." You huffed.

Leon tilted his head back as you finally stopped the torture of cleaning the wound, now switching to use some vaseline to gently coat the skin around the edge of the cut. With that, you placed a thick pad of guaze over it and secured it with a self-adhesive bandage to keep it in place with the right amount of pressure.

"See? Much faster than you would've been."

"I can take care of myself." Leon argued. With the close proximity and the way you were loosely covered with the towel, Leon couldn't help the way his focus dropped lower to the curve of your breasts beneath the white towel.

"But it's always nicer to have help."

"But I can do it myself."

"Would you just shut up and let me be nice to you without arguing?" You frowned, arms crossing over your chest.

"Now, where's the fun in that?" A small grin spread over his chapped lips, and your gaze dropped just long enough to realize he was clearly not using the Chapstick you'd bought him months ago.

"Your lips are cracking again."

"You're looking at my lips?"

"And you're looking at my tits. We're even."

Leon sputtered, caught off guard because he thought he'd been slick enough with the way he tried to stare elsewhere between his stares. "Lips and tits are very different things." He grumbled.

"I'm eye level with your pecs, Leon. Shut. Up." You made your point by jabbing a nail at his pec, making him jolt and yank away with a hand protectively over the spot you'd poked.

"Oh, but if I poke your chest, I'm a criminal." He said, clearly just making a joke for the fuck of it.

"I never said that."

"So, you'd let me poke your chest?" Leon scoffed sarcastically.

"Why would you want to? Maybe you just want a reason to touch me. Freak."

"I never said that!" He blurted out quickly, brows furrowing. For a moment, you swore you saw the face of Leon from the beginning of your friendship when he'd nearly cry out of embarrassment at your jokes.

"And I never said you needed a reason to."

"To what?"

"To touch me."

Leon actually froze this time, looking down at you with a visibly short circuiting brain. His hands itched to take the offer, something he'd subconsciously wanted for so long now—maybe as long as he'd known you. But he couldn't.

Could he?

"You want that?"

"Want what?"

"Want what—" Leon grumbled at your words. "Do you want me to touch you?"

"Do you want to?" You asked.

"That's not what I asked." Leon frowned, almost anxious.

"If I said yes, would that be wrong?"

Before Leon could respond, the washer dinged, signaling its end. He jolted, eyes widening as he practically jumped out of his skin.

"I'll get that. You should get dressed."

You reached and grabbed him by the drawstrings of his sweats. "Leave it. It can wait a couple of hours." You said, stunning him for a moment.

"Hours? Jesus," he breathed, laughing nervously.

"Answer my question. Would it be wrong?"

"No. I don't think so." He calmed down after your silence.

"Then yes. I do want that. I do want you to touch me."

He didn't even try to wait, pulling you in with one hand on the small of your back with the other cupping the back of your neck, where your hair was still wet and messy. His lips found yours, a much slower kiss than you'd expected originally.

He knew it might be a little poorly timed—you were fresh out of the shower, hair dripping down your back, not even fully dried off or even dressed—but he wasn't going to sit there and stew in his own tension any longer than he had to.

He didn't waste anymore time as he felt you relax into him, your hand coming to the back of his head as the other hand remained resting with his drawstring twisted around your index and middle fingers to keep him from pulling away too far. It was something so simple, so casual, and it drove him crazy. You were so calm about this, and his hands were still shaking.

His lips trailed down your jawline to your neck as he nipped at the skin and kept you from pulling back when his teeth dug in a little too hard where your shoulder met your neck.

A small hiss of his name had him lifting his head, but instead of worry, his face screamed possessive pride. "What?" He barely muttered, returning to nip and suckle at your flesh.

"You bite. A lot." You huffed, head tilting back to give him access before you felt him tug at the towel—a small, unspoken question. You shuffled slightly, letting the towel fall to let Leon catch it and expose you completely to him.

"You've been practically edging me since we first met. I'm gonna bite all I want." He said, shame quickly shedding.

You could only snicker, knowing he was right to feel that way. You'd spent a lot of time teasing him, but it hadn't meant anything until the last few months. Well, that's what you told yourself, much like how he'd told himself for years that he didn't care for you like that.

With the towel now unwrapped, he brought it up and used it to ruffle and try to dry your hair just a little bit so it'd be more damp rather than sopping wet. With your hair ruffled and damp, he dropped the towel and squatted very slightly to loop his arms around your thighs before he hoisted you up to wrap your legs around his hips as he stumbled backward to bring you to his bedroom. Bare skin on skin made him feel hotter. He could feel your skin, yes, but he could feel so much more. The goosebumps of the chills he gave you, the way your nipples pebbled and hardened against his skin, the plush flesh of your breasts soft against him.

Weirdly enough, the skin on skin relaxed him once he had you laid on his bed, climbing on top and slotting himself eagerly between your thighs. His arms remained tight around your waist, palms flat to feel your skin as his lips roamed from your collarbone up to your jawline and then to your lips, like he was rewarding himself. The kiss was hungrier this time, lips slotting comfortably with yours as he nipped at your lower lip experimentally. When you didn't pull away, he took it as a sign to deepen the kiss and urge for you to let him use his tongue.

"Yknow," you huffed, a hand pressing to his chest to stop him for a moment to breathe. "It's a little unfair that I'm completely naked, and you're only shirtless."

Leon rolled his eyes, sitting back on his haunches to crawl out of bed and shimmy his way out of his sweats and boxers, kicking them where he'd definitely forget about them for weeks. You couldn't help but gape subtly, vaguely impressed. You knew he was fit, and you always knew he'd have a good size to fit the rest of him.

"I take it you know how to do this?" You joked, gaze lifting up to meet his as he climbed back into bed with you.

"I'm not a virgin." He grumbled. "I know well enough how to please a woman."

"Hard to believe, if I'm being honest." You quipped.

"Are you gonna shut yourself up or am I gonna have to do it for you?"

Shamelessly, you bit your lip, giggling at his threats. "That depends. How would you shut me up?"

"You wanna fuck around and find out?"

"You're bad at answering questions."

"So are you. Answer mine and you'll find out."

"Come on, Kennedy, give me something. You're making me all kinds of impatient." You urged, reaching out to run your hands along his chest and letting one hand venture lower toward his v-line.

"Good answer." He murmured, only to shift himself to angle his body lower and shimmy his way down to settle with his face between your legs. He didn't bother with the slow, sweet kisses down your body, didn't bother with teasing his way toward the apex between your thighs. He'd make up for it, he decided, but he wanted to be selfish for now.

He delved in, tongue gliding hot and wet between your folds, starting from your already twitching hole and licking all the way up to your clit, sending a shiver through your body. Your hand flew down to grasp at his hair, almost immediately tugging.

"No warning? No proper foreplay?" You complained.

"You wanted to find out." He shrugged, silencing both you and him for the time being. He shifted so that he could use one hand to run between the puffy lips of your pussy, fingertips circling the wet hole at the bottom. You whined lightly, thighs twitching around his head.

Without another wasted moment, he plunged two fingers into the warmth, resulting in a choked sound of shock ripping from your throat. He worked his fingers back and forth, lips wrapping around your clit.

"Oh, my god," you breathed, head falling back as your thighs came to wrap around his head, trapping his head in place. He encouraged it with his free hand coming to squeeze your thigh roughly, only to lift and smack it lightly. You yelped, hips bucking into his face and fingers. His hand soothed over the blooming red mark, gaze lifting to watch the way your tits shook or jiggled with every arch of your back, every jolt of your upper body, or shaky exhale.

"Fuck," he growled. "You've kept me waiting for so fucking long." He admitted, lips leaving your clit so he could nip and suck at the flesh of your thighs. His fingers curled and retracted almost entirely, causing you to cry out at the way his fingers pressed to that spongy spot near the start of your hole.

"Leon, please," you gasped, hips desperately trying to grind into the stimulation he was providing so generously. He felt your walls clench, nearly trapping his fingers. His mouth found its way back down to double his efforts and use his tongue to flick back and forth at the puffy bundle of nerves.

Your hand only tugged him closer, his scalp faintly burning. He brought his free hand from your thigh to reach up and palm your breast, groping roughly before he gave it a smack like he did to your thigh, just to watch it bounce and bloom with that faint redness. You whimpered, body trembling as you got closer and closer, back arching off of the bed as your eyes fell shut and head fell back, lips wide open to let your noises fall for him to hear.

Just before you could warn him about being 'so fucking close', he lifted his head and pulled his fingers out. "Wha—what? Why are you stopping?!" You looked at him, panting heavily as your eyes widened like a dog getting denied a reward.

"I never said I'd give it to you that easily." He smirked, and you fell limp against the bed, a whiney laugh leaving your lips as you kicked at his shoulder. In retaliation, he swatted your thigh.

"You're so fucking mean." You looked down at him, whining impatiently.

"Not my fault. You assumed. Just because I got naked doesn't mean I'm gonna give you what you want." He lifted his previously occupied hand to his lips, licking your arousal from his index and middle finger with an exaggerated moan, just to watch your face brighten with warmth as he cleaned his fingers like it was the best god damn meal he'd had in his entire life.

He tugged you a bit closer by your hips, head dropping again as he roughly spread your thighs again, palms rough against your softer inner thighs. With you completely exposed to him, he kept your legs spread wide and pressed upward as his tongue found home between your folds, cleaning the previous mess he'd made. You shivered, hands squeezing at the sheets this time.

"Don't ruin my sheets." He looked up at you, only to delve his tongue into you. He was more than happy with the way your hands flew to grab his hair, like you were unsure whether you were already overwhelmed or not. His tongue explored as deep as he could go, finding a nice way to lap at your pussy. His nose nudged at your clit, a subtle yet exciting way to encourage your pleasure.

"Shit—ah!—Leon!" You whined, brows furrowing as your eyes rolled back. He went back and forth from penetrating you with his tongue to using it to lap at the folds to lazily clean his mess. You couldn't entirely tell if it was his spit or if it was your own juices making everything wetter. Probably both, you'd later decide.

He let your hole remain untouched for a while, tongue dragging upward to find your clit so he could suckle and flick it with his tongue. You cried out, hips bucking weakly. With his hands keeping your legs spread out and up, it wasn't as easy to fuck yourself onto his face. And he seemed to realize that after a while.

After he dragged you closer to the edge, he stopped right before, listening to the sound of you groaning with frustration. He situated himself to lay next to you, lifting you to straddle his hips before he tapped your ass and pointed up to his mouth. You blinked.

"You're joking." You breathed a heavy laugh.

"No. Sit on my face. Fucking suffocate me." He said, shame clearly thrown out. His lack of shame was attractive, giving him an air of confidence that he'd give in finally.

"If you don't let me finish, I'm going to snap your neck." You threatened, crawling up to hover over his face.

"Whatever you say, gorgeous." He wrapped his hands around your thighs and yanked you down, mouth going to work like he was getting paid by the second. You grabbed onto the headboard with one hand, the other hand grabbing at his hair. You watched him close his eyes, focusing a little too hard as his tongue delved back in, nose nudging at your clit once more.

This position gave you the advantage of higher ground and better support, allowing you to more comfortably grind and fuck yourself back onto his tongue and keep him from stopping this time. Your body leaned forward, head pressing against the top of the headboard as your climax approached relatively quickly. Being denied twice only made it harder to let your body resist and draw it out.

"Fuck, please," you nearly cried. "Please, Leon," you looked down at him, hips jolting against his face so that his nose would press so deliciously against your clit.

Muffled, barely audible, Leon urged, "cum on my face, give it to me."

And you did. You pressed yourself down, grinding shakily against his mouth as he worked his tongue inside of you, purposely moving his head back and forth in a way that let the tip of his nose stimulate your clit more. Your vision blurred, a squeal of pleasure ripping from your throat as your entire body pulled taut, eyes rolling back.

He worked you through it, moaning into your cunt as he dug his fingers into your thighs, keeping you still to get the most out of it. Once you showed signs of needing a moment, he let you bring yourself back down to straddle his hips instead. You heaved, palms resting on his lower stomach to keep yourself upright as you recovered. Leon panted, hands still on your thighs as he watched you.

While you recovered, Leon kept you angled perfectly with your hips elevated just right to where he could reach down and hold his cock upright and line it up with your pussy. He looked up at you as his tip grazed the leftover wetness, watching your body jolt slightly as he pressed his tip to your oversensitive clit.

"You can't wait?" You pouted.

"No."

And he didn't. He pulled your hips down, inserting himself halfway with no issue. You gasped, nails dragging along his abdomen. "You fuck—" a cry of pleasure cut you off as he lifted his hips, fucking up into you with a set pace right off the bat. He held you up, a series of whines, moans, and grunts leaving his own lips as he fucked into you from below. His girth was just perfect—not too small to be underwhelming, not too big to be painful. The icing on his cake was his length. Damn near perfect, if not a little too long. It hit your sensitive spots dead on every time.

"Fuck, you feel so fucking good. Oh, yeah," he breathed, far too confident for how whiney he sounded.

Once you found it in yourself to move with him, he damn near lost it. The sight of you bouncing on his dick had him nearly ready to burst, beyond desperate to fill you with his cum. He met you halfway with each bounce, heavy balls slapping against your ass with each upward thrust of his hips.

"Come on, that's it, baby, don't—mmh!" A guttural groan interrupted him as his cock twitched, balls tightening. "Don't stop. 's like you were fucking made for this, yknow that?" He panted, pace quickening as he reached one hand down to thumb at your clit, watching you throw your head back as you both doubled your efforts.

Leon was more vocal than you'd imagined. With how little he spoke in general, you hadn't guessed he'd be so... vulgar and eager to keep talking. From praise and encouragement to telling you how sexy you were and how he'd been waiting for so fucking long to get his greedy hands on you. Half of it was nearly incoherent with how his words slurred together in your mind, pleasure blurring things around you.

"Leon," you whimpered, hands squeezing at his sides for support as your nails dug into his skin. Your head fell forward as your bouncing got harder to keep up. "Fuck, can't you hurry up? The fuck is taking so long?" You whined, too accustomed to the men who would have already been finished and done for the night within two minutes.

Leon responded with rougher thrusts, his tip kissing your cervix with each one as he held you a little lower to make sure he was fucking all the way into you. You cried out, the only warning he got before he felt you gush and clamp around his cock, making him practically short circuit as his thrusts became sloppy. It only took a few seconds for him to follow, spilling his load as deep as he could get. He pulled you all the way down to sit on his cock, watching the way your body tensed. His hips jolted with some aftershocks, which earned him the burn of your nails digging into his skin.

This time, you fully fell forward, panting like you'd just run a marathon in the mountains without water. He let you recover for a solid 20 seconds before he was flipping you over, cock slipping out of you. He stopped for a moment to give you a chance to stop him, but when you let him grind his cock against your soaked, dripping hole, he took another chance to be selfish.

He lined himself up and sank back into your heat, eyes rolling back as he hissed. "Fuck," he laughed, a breathy sound. Both of you felt horribly oversensitive, but he needed a little more to be temporarily satisfied. The years of your teasing and testing had done too much to his self control.

"Lee," you whined, one hand coming to lightly press at his lower abdomen, a weak plea for him to go slower this time.

"You sound so fucking pretty like that." He leaned down, lips finding yours after so long. He gave off such a gentle impression, you thought he might listen and ease up for this last bit.

Oh, boy, were you so wrong.

The kiss served as a distraction as he worked his way into a rough, unforgiving pace, his cock drilling into you. He let his own collection of whimpers, self-control withering away as he pulled away to look down at you. He took in the sight—furrowed brows, watery eyes, lips red and wet from the kissed, and lower, he caught view of the delicious sight of your breasts bouncing.

"Ooh, fuck," he dug his fingertips into your hips, biting at his lip so hard you thought he might break skin or draw blood.

"Leon, please," your thighs came to wrap around his hips, pulling him in deeper. He caved, hands coming to spread your legs and push your knees up to your chest, giving him a deeper angle to fuck into you.

The new angle didn't last long as he completely caved and found himself spilling his load a lot sooner than he'd hoped. Lucky for him, you followed moments later, a sob leaving you lips as he bottomed out and let his cock pulse inside of your pulsing walls.

He gave you a moment to relax, only pulling out once the aftershocks faltered and seemed to come to a stop for the both of you. He soothed his palms over your hips as he eased your thighs to lay back down.

"Are you convinced I'm not a virgin?" He huffed, shifting to lie beside you with a small snicker. He tugged you closer, lips pressing to your shoulder.

"You're so annoying, yknow that?" You laughed, eyes droopy and heavy. Leon stared, expecting. "You just blew my mind three separate times, Leon. That's all the credit you're getting from me unless you want me to start degrading you."

"Ooh, yeah, baby, tell me how dirty and bad I am." He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, soft kisses soothing over the marks he'd left before.

"Take me to the bathroom. I need another shower because of your dirty self." You complained, snuggling into him as he squeezed his arms around you.

"We'll wash off in a minute. I've been waiting a little too long to not take advantage of this opportunity." He admitted, softer than before.

"Don't get too soft on me, Kennedy." You pinched his arm, earning no response.

Leon shifted to lift and carry you into the bathroom, holding you close until he set you on the counter of the sink to go and start the shower, warming the water.

"So, we can't be weird at work. Yknow that, right?" You spoke, head tilting slightly as you waited.

"I'm not gonna be weird. Is this gonna be a regular thing outside of work?" He looked over at you.

"It has to be kept between us. I don't think our boss would be happy if two employees had any kind of unprofessional relationship." You muttered, a little hesitant.

"I can keep a secret." He came closer, standing between your thighs with his hands finding place on your hips. He leaned in, lips slotting with yours.

"I think a secret might just be what we need." You agreed, smiling against his lips as he deepened the kiss.

"Good, because I don't know if I want to let go of this." He murmured.

"Come on, stop being all sappy—we need to shower." You giggled, pulling back from the kiss.