m i l z

He was also blunt, cold, and occasionally a reason high your blood pressure has so high. He had a talent for walking into a room and making everyone feel like they’d done something wrong, even when they hadn’t. He didn’t sugarcoat, didn’t joke around during office hours, didn’t do anything remotely fun.

And unfortunately, he was your boss, so you were stuck dealing with his bullshit every day of the week.

So when you saw him walk back into the station floor after a particularly long day and the tight set of his shoulders, you knew everyone would be hearing from him. You watched the clipped way he spoke to another agent, a stormy expression glued onto his face that practically screamed ‘my mission went terribly’.

Today was just one of those days where everyone avoided him like he was a living grenade and he actually like he wasn’t looming over peoples’ shoulders.

You exhaled slowly, bracing yourself as he turned towards his office eyes locking onto you like he already knew exactly where to look.

Great.

Perfect.

Exactly what you needed.

Leon Kennedy, freshly returned, irritated, and stalking toward you like some lion on a mission. He approached you with quick strides, expression unreadable as he didn’t bother stopping in front of you. “You. My office. Now.”

You froze for half a second by your cubicle, clutching your tablet to your chest before following after him as he stormed into his office. He didn’t look up, didn’t bother to check if you were following him because he already knew that you were. He pushed the office door open, taking angry steps towards his desk. You lingered by the safety of the door, slowly closing it before approaching him with hesitant strides.

“Did everything go okay?” You asked softly, testing out the waters of how angry he was today. His eyes snapped up to you, staring at you silently before briefly glancing over to the leather chair on the other side of the desk. You slowly plop down on the edge of the seat, nervously fixing your skirt as you set your tablet down on your lap.

He grabbed a file from the drawer of his desk, tossing it on the table. The papers inside the manila folder slide out onto the dark wood of the table in a messy fan. “Explain this.”

You glanced down at the papers, blinking up at him in confusion. “It’s a…report?” You asked slowly only to which he let out a short sigh.

“I know what it is,” he ran a hand through his hair, opening the folder so the rest of the papers were readable. “Explain to me why this was sent back. The report. The timestamps. The inconsistencies. Pick one. Help me understand.”

You stared at him, momentarily glancing down at the papers before scooting forward in your seat. “I’m uh not sure, sir. I didn’t write the report. Agent Ric—”

“I know who wrote it,” he cut in sharply, leaning his arms against the edge of the desk. “But you’re the one who’s supposed to catch this shit before it hits my desk.”

You hesitated, avoiding his gaze as you quickly read through the files. You’re unsure what to say. If you apologized he’d probably just get on your ass about you not doing your job, but if you pointed out the obvious mistakes then he’d bitch and complain about how you could see them. He impatiently tapped his fingers against the wood of the desk, eyes staring into your soul.

“Look at me.”

You slowly blinked up at him, chewing on the inside of your cheek. He could see the debate in your eyes, letting out a small sigh before grabbing the folder from the table. He leans back into his chair, tilting his head slightly as he tapped the palm of his hand against the armrest. “You’re staying late and you’re fixing it.”

Your jaw dropped in disbelief, eyebrows raising as you quickly rested a hand on your chest. “Me? But I didn’t write that.”

“You’re staying, and that’s that.” He gave you a pity shrug, waving you out the office as he tucked the papers into the folder. “Hope you don’t have any plans.”

You frowned, letting out a light exhale as you pushed off the chair. You tucked your tablet between your arms, making your way towards the office door. Leon’s eyes quickly glance up at your backside while you make your way out the office, looking out the office windows as you give him a final look.

You’re gonna need about two pots of coffee and an ibuprofen to help you get through your shift. And the patience of an elementary school teacher.

You were halfway through sorting the mess of reports when the door of Leon’s office swings open. Everyone looks up as Agent Morris steps out, holding a tablet out towards Leon like a peace offering. Leon backs the shorter male out of the privacy of his office, cold eyes glued onto the agent.

“Sir, I don’t understand. I did what you—”

Leon didn’t even let him finish. “No,” he snapped, voice cutting through the room like a blade. “Fix it.”

Morris froze, looking around for some sort of support but everyone else looks away, suddenly all too focused on their own problems. “I just— I’m sor—”

“Stop speaking,” Leon interjected again. “Don’t come in here again until it’s perfect.”

The poor guy looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. You’d seen Leon irritated before, but this was different, like he was barely holding himself together.

Morris tried again. “Sir, I can fix—”

The door slams shut as Leon retreats back into his office, awkward silence following after the public embarrassment. You scratched the back of your neck, hesitating for a moment before carefully approaching Morris.

“Hey, it’s okay. I can help you if you want?” Morris stares down at the tablet, looking up at you before shaking his head.

“No, he’s right. I’m such a fucking idiot.” You open your mouth to try to reassure him but Morris is already moving to sulk silently at his desk. You frown slightly, lingering by the office door before making your way towards your desk.

The small stack of broken reports Leon gave you were narrowed down to a measly two. You were almost done, and your shift wasn’t anywhere near close to ending. You tapped your fingers on your desk, looking over at Leon’s office before looking down at your computer. Even if you had finished, you knew he’d purposefully go out of his way to make your night longer.

The room felt bigger once Leon left. You gathered the scattered reports into a single stack, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

Somewhere down the hall, a door shut, then more silence. Just the quick clacking of computers and the nervous coughs of workers choking on their own anxiety.

You pulled the second to last file toward you, flipping through the pages. Wrong timestamps. Missing signatures. Half‑finished statements. Could nobody write an accurate report?

You rubbed your temples. “Love this for me.”

You started sorting— separating what could be salvaged from what needed to be rewritten entirely. Your pen scratched across the paper, your tablet chiming as you cross‑checked data.

Every now and then, you heard movement from Leon’s office— the low thud of a drawer closing, the faint scrape of his chair. He was wound tight, still very much in that mood.

But he didn’t come out. And part of you was too scared to check in on him.

You were deep into the last report when you felt a strange, prickling awareness that someone was behind you. You didn’t hear footsteps. You didn’t hear the door or the scatter of remaining agents as they ducked out of the way.

But the air shifted.

You looked up slowly.

Leon was standing in the doorway, leaning one shoulder against the frame with his arms crossed. He hadn’t said a word. Hadn’t cleared his throat. Hadn’t let his presence be known. He just stood there, watching you finish the last bit he assigned you.

“I’m almost done.” You reassured, looking down at the report and lifting it up in his general line of sight.

He didn’t answer you.

You awkwardly nodded to yourself, slowly turning to stare down at your hands and not at the heavy gaze of his eyes on you. “Check Morris’.”

You blinked slowly at your pen, pressing your lips together before turning to look up at Leon again. You gave him a small smile and a quick nod. “Yes sir.”

He stared at you for another long silent moment before humming at your response. He raised his eyebrows slightly before turning to disappear into his office again.

You stared at the back of his head until the door closed behind him before wrapping a hand around your neck. You let out an annoyed, strangled breath before pushing up out your seat. This was bordering on ridiculous.

When did you become the designated proofreader around here?

By the time you had finished helping Morris, Leon continued to pack more and more on you. It went from fixing other agents’ reports to checking surveillance footage to running background checks. Then it went from background checks to sorting field samples to sorting evidence logs to prepping gear inventory to unnecessarily cross checking intel from multiple departments.

Suffering, suffering and more suffering. Six hours of moving back and forth and hunching over in your desk until your mind meshed into a puddle of overstimulated goo. Leon hadn’t come to check in on you in the last thirty minutes, which was somewhat helpful because the eery silence of the office comforted the sharp pain behind your eyes.

You stacked the last corrected report on top of the pile and exhaled, rubbing the stiffness from your neck. The operations room was empty now, the clock on the wall ticking silently as you pushed your chair back. You were happy Leon was still holed up in his office, probably making another agent miserable as he types away on his computer complaining about whatever it was that upset him this time.

You gathered the neat pile of files from your desk, tucking them against your chest as you made your way down the short walk to his office. The dim lighting of the office poured out from the small gap under the door, it was quiet inside, but not enough to hear the faint scrape of a chair and the uneven rhythm of someone breathing harder than they should.

You hesitated, fixing the stack as you knocked lightly against the door carefully pushing it open with a tense hand. The office window blinds were drawn halfway, dark expanse of city and distant building lights seeping into the room as you stepped in. Leon was behind his desk, one hand braced against the inside of his thigh.

His breathing was shallow, chest heaving up and down as he quickly looked up at you. Your eyes slowly shifted down to the sight of his other hand wrapped tightly around his exposed cock, veins wrapping around the underside and leading towards the reddish-purple leaking tip. You practically squealed in surprise, dropping the files on the floor in a long fan as your hands snapped up to cover your eyes like you were the one in the wrong and not your hot, older boss who was jerking off knowing you were still in the building.

“Oh, god im so sorry!”

He let out a breathy chuckle, chair creaking slightly as you took large, speedy steps backwards. “You finished everything I gave you?”

“Uhm, yes.” Your hands are still (partially) covering your eyes, peeking through the gaps of your fingers to avoid bumping into a wall.

“Good, bring the files here.” You halt mid step, heels screeching against the tiled floor as you quickly shake your head.

“Oh, no that’s okay— I think I should just come back when you’re… not tied up.”

“Bring the files here.” He repeats shortly. You sigh shakily to yourself, slowly removing your hands over your eyes. You stare down at the floor, slowly inching back to the pile of files you dropped. You took a peek glance up at him, eyes darting to him fisting his cock with no embarrassment whatsoever.

You could feel the burn of his eyes on you as you crouched down to scoop the files, sloppily tapping them together. You quickly rushed towards the desk, avoiding his gaze as you set the files on the table.

“In my hand.” You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you slowly grabbed the pile.

“I don’t think I should.”

“Put the files in my hand.”

He extended the hand on his thigh out to you, the hand around his cock momentarily stopping as you stepped closer to him. You extended the stack to him as he gave you a small, smug grin. You took a blink down towards his hands, eyes darting from his right hand as he grabbed the papers from you then further down to his left hand. His cock jumped in his grip, a glossy drop of pre slipping from the slit.

“Staring’s a bit rude, don’t you think?”

At his question, your attention quickly snapped up to his face, warmth rushing through your body. “Right. I’m sorry, I’ll go.”

You’re more than halfway towards the door when he lets out a soft groan. You hate how through the awkwardness of it all, you can feel the heat pooling in your gut. You look over at the windows, catching how he was very obviously watching you leave.

“Or you could stay.”

You’re a little too quick to hesitate by the door, hand hovering by the door handle before turning slightly to face him. He notices, letting out a little snicker. “Huh?”

“You could stay.”

You tap your heel against the floor, glancing between two different means of salvation. “Why? So we’d like— fuck or something?” The question slips out without you realizing. Leon raises an eyebrow at your forwardness, giving the base of his cock a firm squeeze.

“Or you could just watch me. No worries.”

You wipe your hands over your skirt, nibbling on your bottom lip as you (not so) hesitantly make your way back to the desk. “Will I get in trouble?”

His eyes follow your every movement, pushing off the chair and giving his hard cock a quick shove back into his pants. “For what?”

“Sleeping with you?” He sucks in a slow breath, as if the thought itself had him about ready to combust. He rubs his knuckles along the stubble on his jaw, pointing for you to sit on the desk in front of him.

“Not if anyone finds out.” You quietly shuffle towards the edge of the table, hopping up on the cold wood before nudging the papers back to give you some more room.

“But what if they do?” He approaches you quietly, nudging your thighs apart to place himself in between your spread legs.

“Do you plan on telling people that I fucked you?” You quickly shake your head, nervously watching as he oh so gently rolled your tight skirt up until the fabric awkwardly bunched around your hips. “Good. Could always just tell people that you came onto me.”

Your eyes widened at the way he so casually said it. “Wa— sorry, what?” He just gives you a slow smile, glancing down at your exposed panties before humming softly.

“Cute.” He hooks a finger under the red waistband, pulling back and letting it snap against your skin. His fingers slide down in between your thighs, thumb pressing against the rapidly damp patch. “And you’re already this wet? You’re practically throwing yourself at me.”

You watch him with a heavy gasp as he presses the pad of his finger up towards your clit, just hard enough that he could feel the faint throb through the fabric. “B-but I’m not.”

He looked up at you with a bored expression, rubbing slow circles against your clit, feeling the arousal seeping through the fabric and dampening his thumb. “No you’re not wet, or no you’re not throwing yourself at me?” He pulls his finger away from your underwear, examining the slight sheer glisten of your arousal. “Cause you were the one who mentioned having sex… and looks like you really need it.”

You frown slightly, hesitant to say anything. He wraps a hand around the side of your neck, giving you a grin as he inches you to lay down on your back. You shift against the coldness of the desk, blinking up at him as he nudged his pants back down to free his cock. “Oh, c’mon. Don’t give me that look,” he rests his hand on your jaw, giving you a quick little pat before squishing your cheeks. “I’m only joking.”

Your hum comes out a bit muffled at the squeeze of his fingers, letting out a little yelp as his hand moves down to tug you closer to him. He moves your underwear to the side, guiding your legs around his hips. Your hips jerk forward as he guides the head of his cock along your slit.

His fingers dig into your hips, forcing you still as he nudges the thickness of his tip against your entrance. Your pussy clenches around the slight probe, his hand inching up to rest on the curve of your waist as he slides in with ease thanks to the slick gathering. You grunt at the sudden tightness, your pussy stretching around him.

He grabbed the underside of your knee, pushing it up further against his hip, his eyes dropping to where your bodies joined. His cock twitched inside you, letting out a slight hiss before thrusting again. Harder.

Your body jolted with the quick stroke, hands scrambling for some balance as he continues to buck into you with short, blunt snaps. “Fuck, look at you,” he groans, squeezing your waist gently. “Taking every inch like a good little thing.”

You’re unable to respond, each stroke of his hips forced out another whiny gasp. He lets out a strained laugh at the look on your face, papers crumpling beside you as each thrust makes you slide up against the hard surface of the table. Your eyebrows furrow together in pleasure, thighs aching as he lightly pulls you towards him to match the strides of his hips.

“S-slow down a bit, Leon.” He wraps his hand around your mouth, quickly shutting you up as he stares down at the sight of your pussy creaming a thick ring around him.

“But you’re taking me so well.” He changes the rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. Each thrust makes your hips rock against him, your body moving with his. Discomfort burns into your lower back as he stretches you out around him, lower half burning at the position your legs were in.

He moves his hand away from your mouth, sliding his hand down your button shirt and pressing firmly against your stomach. “Who owns this pretty little cunt?”

Your eyes flutter closed, pleasure building through the pain and force of his movements. “You.” You manage to stammer out, voice breathless.

“Sorry what was that? What’s my name?” He leans forward, rolling his hips in a slow circle, the length of his cock dragging against your walls.

“L-Leon.” He pressed his thumb firmly against your clit, giving it a firm pinch to force a little squeal from you.

“Sir, I’m sorry.” You babbled breathlessly, pussy clenching around him as you slowly started to approach your orgasm.

He rubs a slow circle against your clit, drawing out a shaky moan from you. “Such a good girl. Letting your boss fuck you in his office like some cheap whore.” He watches you with dark, hungry eyes, taking in the way your body responds to his touch.

Your eyes fluttered closed, head tilting back on top of a crumpled paper. “Hey, hey. Look at me when I'm inside you,” he grips your jaw, giving your head a little shake to regain your attention. When you meet his gaze, he smirks. “Fuck, you look gorgeous.”

His other hand slides up your thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he bucks into you one final time, balls pressing against the groove of your ass. His body tenses, as he props one hand beside your hip, leaning forward as his cock throbbed and twitched inside you. Warm pulses of cum flood your inner walls, thick spurts of his seed leaving him as he breathes heavily.

“Shittt.” He groans softly, hips spasming slightly as the last spurts pump into you.

His hands are shaking slightly as he holds himself inside you, taking a moment to catch his breath. When he finally pulls out, you feel the cool air hit your sensitive flesh, slick nut slowly seeping out of your fluttering pussy. He steps back, adjusting his clothes as you watch him with furrowed eyebrows. You slowly prop yourself up on your elbows, feeling the unfamiliar weight of his release inside you as you took deep, shaky breaths.

“But… I didn’t come.” You mumbled slightly, watching him as he peeked up from his belt, giving you a once over.

“Oh, you didn’t? Sorry.” He echoed back sarcastically with fake concern, buttoning his pants. You watched him with clear annoyance, rolling your eyes as you pushed off the table.

He watches you pull your skirt down over your ass, the fabric settling around your thighs as you fumble with your outfit. There's a moment of silence as he looks at you, taking in your disheveled state. You can feel the leak of him in your underwear, stumbling slightly on your heels.

An uncomfortable silence fills the office, room reeking of sex and anger. He turns back to his desk, already dismissing you from his mind as he cleans the mess of papers. The silent dismissal stings, but you take the obvious hint and make your way to the door.