🖤 ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ 🖤

Cat like smile crossing your lips before you lower your head back down to the plush pillow, this time the giggle comes out. Dancing around his rigid body that tenses further when you turn over to give him your back. Adding one last comment before you curled against the pillow with the intention to sleep.

"I see, you're just lonely." It comes out soft, laced with pity. A mistake you'll be sure to learn soon enough.

Before you can react to the sudden presence standing beside the bed, a thick palm wraps around your throat. Squeezing just enough to slow the blood flow to your brain.

"Am I lonely?" His fingers dig deeper, edges of your vision closing in as you feel his weight dip the mattress behind your back, "So touch starved I would pay for company from a whore?"

Even with his strong grip, you jerk in his hold, yet still he keeps you pinned. Adjusting you as if you weighed nothing as he lifts you to his lap, pressing your back to his chest as he leans against the head board. His left hand smooths over your skin before it settles at your thighs, forcing them to spread open for him.

"Maybe it is you who is so lonely, so starved of touch and affection you're willing to trade coin for company." He looks down at you with a cruel gaze, "So starved that you're willing to be choked to be touched."

Your glare is unmatched, burning into his skin, hotter than any flame he's felt. Still he can see something beneath that nasty gaze, sees it is fueled by hurt.

You rear your head back for a headbutt although he simply turns his face away, the smallest of smiles graces his lips before it vanishes.

If there was one thing about you, you never took it lying down or without a fight. Your own stubborn will could be something to admire, although he will not admit that aloud.

"Who said I liked to be choked?" A hiss of your pretty tone, crushed beneath his light grip. He chuckles, leaning closer to press his lips to your ear as he shares the secret. Left hand hovering over your cunt.

"She did." Pressing his fingers between your folds hearing a pretty squelch as he gathers slick to press into your clit, "Hear how wet you are for me? All from a little breath play and you're already soaking my slacks."

Despite his hum he still sounds annoyed, brow pinched until your heels dig into the mattress beside his knees to give him better access. Your body betraying you as a rasped moan escapes your lips.

"Now which of us is licking knives for affection again?" A mirthless chuckle, the sound cruel by your ear, "Can I break you like this? Give you so much you shake and plead for me to stop?"

Your stomach tightens, his fingers skilled in more than just sword play. It is unfair how good this feels, how close you are from his fingers and words alone. From the way he makes you dizzy thanks to his hand at your throat, his thumb letting up enough to stroke across the column gently before he returns to his affections.

Your breath hitches, back arching as you press into his muscled torso before you're shaking. Pleasure washing over you in violent jerks of your body as you claw at the sheets.

"That's one." He smiles against the shell of your ear before hooking his chin over your shoulder. Looking down at his work as he continues the maddening pace, you cry out again, "That's two."

He teases you like this for what feels like hours, until his slacks stick to his skin from your bare cunt crying out for more. As he continues to dangle the power imbalance between the two of you as if it weren't already obvious in your day to day.

You've watched him cut down hordes of men with hardly a twitch of his fingers, faster than their bodies can even process, still speaking as their heads or torsos separate from their bodies. You've seen the way his eyes darken, sclera turned black making his eyes aglow the same as a predator's under a full moon.

He always looked beautiful bathed in moonlight, kissed by it until every strand of his hair was starlit. Otherworldly even without his darkening gaze, his shadow gave him away most nights. Stretching longer than any man's should, giving him a crown of two sharp points.

Your body is weak to him and it feels as if it is by divine design, slack in his hold, no matter how cold his touch may be. Unable to keep your knees up now as they fall open, body limp as your head falls back onto his strong shoulder.

His sclera has blackened, something that happens when his mood is heightened, usually nanoseconds before a kill, but this isn't that. This is something entirely different, cruel smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Frostbitten sapphire flick to your face, hold your gaze, his fingers slow to a stop. A gentle pressure with his left hand as his right does the same. Locked in your lidded gaze his eyes go beyond the veil and peer into the depths of your being.

Into your soul.

Without breaking contact he tilts your head every so slightly to press a chaste kiss to your jaw.

Your back arches, body shaking as you come undone from the simple affection.

"I told you that I was not the one who was starved." Baring his teeth in a manner that seems unlike him before he regains his composure as quickly as he lost it. His sclera slowly bleeds back into white, soon his gaze will be glazed over in boredom. An expression he doesn't have to force with most.

Weakly your hand comes up to run your fingers through his moon kissed hair, threading them into the strands.

"Vergil." Voice strained from his hold on your throat and the moans you forced past his grip over the past hour or so, still you surprise him, "You're a bad liar."

He moves his hand to bite until he tastes copper coating his tongue, sclera blackened again, you cannot help the satisfied cat smile on your lips.

No matter how small and defeated it may be at least for now.

"I told you not to call me by my name." He pulls back, lips and teeth stained scarlet, pink muscle slips past to swipe at the mess.

A world he wanted to protect you from, not drag you into the pit with him. 

But you were stubborn and independent, a quality of yours he admired so greatly, weak to you and that determined face as you declared, ‘I’m not just gonna wait in a hotel for you Kennedy, I’m coming, end of story, consider it motivation to finish this even faster.’ 

Now look at what's happened.

“I know sweetheart, I’m getting you to a hospital, Bec’s already analyzed the samples, she’s gonna get you patched up,” muttered through clenched teeth, struggling to believe in the comforting words he’s blanketing you in. Replaying the scene of an uncovered plant flowering before your very eyes before a pink mist is blasted into your face a moment later. The sound of your yelp almost made his heart stop, turning from the computer terminal he’d been downloading files from into his flash drive to see you wafting the cloud surrounding your skull away. 

Pulled to the present once more when you whimper a sound that sounds less like pain and more like pleasure and with knuckles white from the force, you pull at his collar, you husk, “no hospital. Home. Take me home, please.” 

You feel so desperate, body feeling like a raging inferno even the wind chill he’s creating does little to dull the flames. Perspiration drips down your temple as you cling to him, fighting the urge to nip at his earlobe when you draw closer for him to hear you, “Please Leon, the antidote Rebecca is making.. It'll take too long. Feel like I’m gonna burn up, you know what this is.” 

And he does, Rebecca’s decomposition analysis of the substances submitted came back quickly, before he’d even carried you out of the ‘abandoned’ facility. His skin warms all over again at the recollection of Rebecca’s descriptions and list of symptoms and side affects, how it wasn’t their typical form of BOW but to be used against politicians expressly because of the sort of.. conduct the flowery scent would encourage through select engineering. 

Leon should’ve come alone, as he always does; that he should’ve been more cautious. He wishes he hadn’t been so easily swayed by you, specifically, this would be easier to deal with if it were anyone else. Easy to detach himself and not feel the guilt that threatens to swallow him whole now. 

Still, a hospital could help, could make this easier; maybe even have something to counteract the effects to spare him the turbulent relationship with dubious consent. The line of thought makes Leon debate maintaining his course instead of acquiescing again before you let out a pained whine and the most sinful whimper of his name to follow. 

“Shit, okay. Okay honey, I’ve got you,” and when the quiet, satisfied mewl slips from your lips, the pit of guilt yawns wider as carnal desire begins to also rage within him. 

— 

“Off, off, take it off,” your voice laden with desperation and it shows as you fumble with his belt while he shrugs his jacket off and peels away the second skin he called a compression shirt. 

“Easy sweetheart, easy,” comes his gentle cooing in complete contrast to the frenzied disrobing of you both. Nipping tentatively at places that made you arch and sucking at sensitive skin that threaten to leave marks in his wake and you do the same in turn as Leon herds you both toward the couch. Unlatching himself from you as the backs of his calves hit the couch, face now level with your mound and he greets your covered sex with an affectionate kiss. Something tender and familiar despite your relationship with him being coworkers that held the occasional conversation by a water cooler at worst and a friendly conversation over the phone at best. 

His fingers splay over your skin, thumbs grazing over supple flesh and the delicate article of clothing that feels offending to you the longer it remains. Leon places another kiss to your body, lower this time as he settles to the floor, back leaning against the couch. Another chaste brush of his lips earns a displeased whine from you, the contact grazing your clit in a way that feels mocking in your current state and your hands come down to cup just below Leon’s ears, “stop teasing, please.” 

“It’s alright, m’gonna take care of you like I said I would,” even still, he heeds your plea, straightening his spine that puts him at eyeline with your abdomen, just below your belly button. 

If you were more clearheaded, you’d think his treatment was charming, would certainly feel flustered by the adoration that feels reflexive to him. His lips press into the soft flesh just over your womb before blazing a trail of heated nips and open mouthed brushes of his lips from your pantyline to the space where your hip meets your pelvis before hooking his index fingers into the band and tugging them downward. Biting at the overly tender flesh of your inner thighs as you part them enough to let the lacy material fall away before guiding you to hike your leg over his shoulder. Pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before running the flat of his tongue up in one broad swipe with unwavering eye contact. 

You sigh when he takes your hips and cants them towards his face, placing a tender kiss to your mons. Leon’s silent as he leans his head against the seat cushions, sinking lower into a comfortable position while pulling your body forward until your knees rest on either side of his face. He figured this would be easier, safer, less violating, under the circumstances; pleasure and relief provided to you alone. 

Leon would be lying, however, if he said he hadn’t thought about this with you before, evident in his actions that warm his blood pleasantly. It wasn’t like either of you hadn’t gone to dinner a time or two together, however uneventful those times had been; though, he wonders now if another would’ve ended like this. 

Especially as you comply with wordless ease, knees dipping in the plush cushions of your couch as your hands find purchase on the frame of its back. Curling your fingers and letting your head loll with a breathy moan ripping from your throat when he’s quick to bury his face into your soaked slit. Nose nudging testingly against your clit at first before his tongue delves into your cunt, palming your ass to press more of your weight into him. 

“F-fuck, Leon,” all but purring his name as he laps at you greedily, lewd slurping and slick clicking filling the space, your thighs trembling with effort over a losing battle to not come undone again his tongue already before long. Hips twitching as a jolt of electricity rockets up your spine, bucking before grinding down helplessly on Leon’s face when he adds to your stimulation with his pleased hum. More vocal than usual but you can’t even fully blame the effects of whatever that flowery mist earlier was, not really, considering it only heightening your usual receptiveness to whatever possible relationship coworker wanted with you.

Rewarding him with satisfyingly saccharine suspires and allowing him to watch in real time how he ruins you. Whole bodied trembles wrack your form as Leon drags you headlong into a short lived orgasm, a relief that felt far too fleeting, before you grew frantic at the sensation. Ruining it yourself, completely by accident, when you reach down to cup the curve of his skull as if Leon even remotely planned to draw away from you. 

Crystalline hues alight in the lowlight and his pupils blown wide like a solar eclipse on a summer day, making him look as if he were the one fighting off some foreign agent ravaging his system. It sends a wave of heat through your body once more, that same consuming warmth that threatens to burn you alive but it feels sweeter now, more manageable. 

A cacophony of lewd, wet slurping, sweet moans and muffled hungry groans filling the room before a cry out in frustration slows the symphony. Delicate digits knotting in his perfectly messy sandy blond locks, roots darkened with a smattering a gray over time, and tugging gently while you desperately grind down onto his face, “More Leon, please, not enough, I’m so hot, I’m sorry but I need you, please please please.” 

Leon only hums in affirmation, falling into the frenzy with you, losing himself to a lust he hasn’t known before, a chuckle sparking in his chest but not carrying any further because as if he could leave you unsatisfied now. The vibration of it, however, against your sensitive slit makes you shake needily, trembling overtop him in the beginnings of another climax. Hastily finding your own hurried rhythm to ride out the feeling this time that he adapts to with ease. 

Grabbing handfuls of your ass to assist you in chasing working through the high, assuring this one won't be ruined prematurely while groaning at every gasp and mewl his efforts are rewarded with. 

But even then it doesn’t feel like enough, the euphoria feeling like it fades all too quickly despite already building into another it should’ve cascaded into with little effort. You’re already beginning to feel that telltale sting of overstimulation, clit throbbing in time with the aggressive hammering of your heart and you pant for breath you can’t seem to catch. 

Everything is so overwhelming, even the humid puffs of his breath over your feverish skin feels like a dissolving heat from a source you’ve stepped away from. You feel like you’re burning from the inside out, like the inferno will consume you at any moment if that tightly wound coil doesn’t snap again soon, chasing a high more fleeting than illicit drugs, “s’close, s’close baby please.” 

But your begging doesn’t go unheeded, the need in you seeping into Leon as deft digits alter from kneading the fat of your ass to pulling at the underside of your cheek to expose more of you to him, prodding at your neglected entrance teasingly. Arranging you slightly to accommodate the slight change in position, spit and slick coating his index and middle finger as he parts your folds, coyly lapping between the ‘v’ they form as he drinks in the sight of your divine cunt before he finally slips inside. 

The way you clamp around him is sinful and he can’t help the throatier groan that rumbles against his ribcage and your sopping slit. Though still he tends to you, scissoring and curling his digits within you with fervor, guided by every gasp and moan you give him until he finds where you need him most.

And even once you soak his face once again with his name tumbling from your lips like a whispered prayer, he doesn’t stop nor slow, does nothing to show he wants to work you down but instead prolongs the well earned rapture. 

Alternating between flicking and circling his tongue methodically and sucking at your swollen bundle of nerves while pressing the pads of his fingers against that spongy space along velvet walls until you’re gushing on his face. You don’t have the words to warn him, voice stalling in your throat for a long moment before a gasp rips from your lungs and you moan unabashedly in relief as pleasure finds you for another instance among the many you’ve lost count of by now. 

The feverish haze somewhat abated thanks to his valiant efforts as you ride the calming waves of pleasure until your hips slow from jerky ruts to leisurely rolls along Leon’s wet muscle. Gradually feeling marginally better without the aid of Rebecca’s antidote as you come down, the effects of whatever you’d been inhaled waning alongside the ebbing flow of your orgasm. 

Finally pulling away from your coworker after you’ve regained most of your bearings. Stepping back as you chance a glance down at Leon, facial expression something akin to blissful as he bears the glistening mixture of his saliva and your slick on his handsome face. You glance away from him with a clear of your throat, missing the way he paws subtly at the tenting material of his jeans as he pulls his knees higher to hide it a bit better.

“T-thank you, super cop,” you find it in yourself to tease, need to, so the proverbial bucket of cold water doesn’t douse you detrimentally. The gravity of what’s transpired sure to send you within a shell of embarrassment because, really, this was entirely your fault— meddling in an affair you’ve no part in as a researcher and not a field agent. 

You decided to search for your discarded clothing, finding your panties first to slip them on hastily in a bid for some decency despite what’s transpired. Chancing another glance at him as Leon does the same, tugging on his shirt after moving to sit atop the cushions of your couch.

He always bore an intentionally disheveled look, the sort that told you he cared about his appearance but not obsessively so, but you find this aftermath alluring. His hair tousled and pupils blown wide with a glossiness to his full lips that dares bid your core molten once more. Arms pulling through the short sleeves first, corded muscle of his well toned abdomen tensing and rolling with the movement before its hidden away beneath the fabric that’s soon tugged over it despite how it adheres tightly to his form. 

Silence blankets between you both, feeling tense before long as Leon combs his fingers through his hair in an unconscious habit. He clears his throat but says nothing to follow, something that makes your heart sink slightly, resting your forehead in the web of your palm to hide your face. 

You occupy yourself instead, searching for a pair of comfortable sleep pants, a pair that’s baggy to give the feeling of being swallowed up because the floor beneath you won’t grant you that mercy. 

Should you apologize? You should, right? For coming along, for insisting so at that only to become a liability and cause this whole thing; though you don’t inherently regret the action, only the circumstance in which it came about. You fold your arms over the other, resting just below your chest and your fingers ghost over your ribcage, a comforting touch for yourself as you turn towards him again. 

“Leon?” You start, taking a few steps towards him as he gives you his gaze. He’s slouched into the cushions of your couch, neck craned back as if he were staring at the ceiling before his spine straightens. Confidence wanes quickly despite the softened look on his features instead of the hard lines you’d once thought had become the natural resting expression. 

“Would you wanna get dinner with me?” His tone is smooth although it’s lighter, deeper notes pitched slightly higher; a tactic you’d once learned was used to be more disarming and soothing in moments of distress. You’d learned well over the years that Leon was adept at comforting those around him. 

The question confuses you though, that must be evident on your features with how Leon scoffs a mirthless laugh as he shakes his head slightly and casts his gaze to the floor beneath his feet. His fingers interlace, pads of his thumbs swiping over the knuckles as they dangle between his spread legs, fringe hanging in his face forming a curtain and hiding his expression away from you. 

Is he the one feeling guilty for what’s happened? Of course he did, why would you think otherwise? If you knew anything about Leon, (which you certainly felt that you did despite the constant desire of wanting to learn more, to grow closer) of course he’d feel responsible. 

You sigh, expression contorting into one of disbelief, huffing a delicate sound that bordered an airy laugh as you shake your head at him. Bare feet padding quietly closer to him, near soundless as you surprise Leon with your proximity, crouching in front of him. 

His thoughts are loud, tormenting, something you’ve seen before in the times he’s spaced out in meetings and mission debriefs. Haunted by the past and you refuse to become one of his ghosts, resolute as your hands come to cradle his jaw. 

Your touch is simple yet loving, thumb stroking along his cheek when he gives you his gaze, the gesture keeping him from painting on that unbothered, stoic facade. He looks like that twenty one year old rookie cop Leon believes died in raccoon city, the one you’ve only seen in photos from his file. 

“I’d love to,” releasing him once the tension bleeds from his form and his shoulders sag in relaxation, features unburdened and softened sweetly. He almost looks boyish to you now, the comparison to just a few moments prior making that fact all the more dizzying. Who didn’t love a little duality? 

You look at Toji for a long moment. Inspecting him, memorising his face, staring at the generous scar that adorns the corner of his lips. Instinctually he drags his tongue across the scar and proceeds to hold out the small paper cup of hot milk for you. Eventually, you look at the drink he's offering and then back up at him.

"I got it at the coffee machine. I didn't add anything to it, it's just milk. Thought you'd want something to heat you up."

Without a word you take the drink and hold it to your chest with both hands. Toji doesn't bother trying to convince himself he heard a whisper of gratitude. But, with one of his hands free of boiling hot liquid, he's able to pull out the pre-packaged sandwhich that was hidden in his jacket pocket. "Here, got you this too."

This time your eyes light up and you almost throw your milk into the floor in desperation. You snatch the food from Toji and tear open the packaging with shaky hands; he hears loud and clear the way you repeat 'thank you' under your breath as you wolf down the first half in three bites.

"Hitchhiker?"

You nod a few times and eat the other half in a couple more bites. "I've been here for a couple of days. No one will give me a ride or they're not going where I am. I don't remember when I last ate something. Thanks."

"Where are you trying to go?"

"Fukuyama."

Toji huffs something akin to a laugh, "That's pretty far from here."

He watches as you visibly burn your tongue and throat on the hot milk, but seemingly desperate enough for a drink that it didn't matter. "Yeah," You ball up the sandwhich packaging and stuff it into the pocket of your jacket, "I've been settling for anyone giving me a ride that can get me any closer. That's how I ended up here."

There's something about you that sets something off within him. Maternal instinct? The human desire the help someone in need? It's hard seeing a poor, weak little kitten abandoned on the side of the road and not help them.

"Aren't you in luck—that's exactly where I'm heading."

Your eyes light up even more than they had when he offered you food. Toji can't stop the smirk that plays on his lips. "Really!?" You practically shout; a sound made even louder in the emptiness of the cold night. "Please can you take me? I won't be a burden I promise. I'll be good and quiet and you won't even know I'm there, please can I—"

"Sure, you gotta hurry though because my break is almost over and I have deadlines to make." Toji says after already turning around and slowly heading back towards his truck parked in a designated spot nearby. Hearing your scrambling only made his smirk wider. A strange feeling in his chest that could be regret, or the satisfaction of doing something good for someone.

Something about helping someone when you never got the help you needed. Be the person you needed or whatever.

You weren't kidding when you said you'd be quiet in the truck.

If it weren't for your silhouette being lit in the passenger seat every few seconds by the highway lights, Toji would forget you're there. The radio plays quietly as it always has because he doesn't really care for the radio no matter the journey and warm air fills the space in an attempt to dethaw your bones. While Toji had taken his coat off as soon as he climbed back into the drivers seat, yours stayed on.

Just when he was about to drift into his mindless state of driving along the empty highway, watching out for road signs and getting lost in his own thoughts, you remind him you're still here. Not by talking, though.

Toji blinks at you when your hand is pressed against his thigh, his head moving back and forth as he looks at you leaning over the center console and back on the road. Lights pass by quickly over your face as he drives but he knows that kind of innocent look anywhere.

"I didn't offer you a ride in exchange for—" He starts but catches himself inhaling when you cup his groin through his pants.

"It's okay," You say quietly, your voice purposely soft and silky and Toji feels the confliction between his head and his heart. "I don't mind."

Your hand moves clumsily with the awkward position and natural sway of the big vehicle but it's enough to stir his cock to life. Toji tries to focus on driving more than on you but he's losing the internal battle in wanting to convince you to stop; not like it was much of a battle at all.

A blowjob is a blowjob and it's not like he hasn't gotten road head before. Driving trucks across the country for years, you'll come across an array of people and some of them end up in your truck with you. It's more that Toji didn't intend for any of this like he had before. He never gave you that food or drink with the idea he can get you to suck his dick as gratitude, nor did he let you hitchhike in his truck to gain sexual favours for his kindness.

It's not the best blowjob he's had in his life but it wasn't the worst. Eventually he gave in and let you kiss his neck and grope his crotch until he got hard enough, adjusting in his seat to keep driving safely and giving you access to his cock. As pretty and sweet of a thing you are, taking his cock down your throat like a champ, and swallowing his cum when he finished in your mouth, he felt kind of dirty afterwards. Something akin to guilty masturbation under the blanket.