Thanks to many long conversations with friends and too many sleepless nights contemplating it, you finally made the decision to do it. Were you going to regret it? No, absolutely not. In fact, you’ve been wanting to do this, everyone has been trying to convince you, and you kept daydreaming about what it would look like if you did. This was not the year for what-if’s. This was the year of do’s.

You finally made an appointment to get a tattoo.

It was certainly not worth all this hype and only probably a fraction of the struggle, but there was always an apprehension when doing something new, especially something like this, that was putting you in a totally different environment than what you were used to. Along with their pushing you to finally book something, your friends were as helpful as they could be:

“I swear it only hurts while you’re sitting there. It’s also not even that bad! It’s like a long scratch.”

“It only seems scary because it's sterile there. It’s clean for a reason! They are there to tattoo you, don’t be afraid of them.”

“Just ignore all the noises, you can ask them to put your headphones in, they won’t care. Whatever you are comfortable with.”

And sure, it helped, but as you sat in front of the tattoo shop, windows blacked out with a one-way privacy screen, American Traditional art peppering the windows and shop sign, you couldn’t fight that tiny pit of worry that was starting to knot tighter and tighter.

The shop was nearby and was recommended by a friend who was among the many trying to get you to bite the bullet. They had been there many times and had nothing but great things to say about those running it and the artists they employed. And you had seen the work on their body, too; you knew they weren’t lying about quality. They had to practically force you to DM the Instagram account to book by opening it themselves on your phone and hitting the ‘message’ button. Sometimes, handholding is the only way to do nerve wracking things.

The artist whose DM’s you now reviewed in the car before you finally worked up the courage to go inside was named Leon. They were one of the many accounts affiliated with the shop and the one you had been directed to the most, and, again, quality doesn’t lie. Leon’s art was incredible, his range of styles was mindblowing, you wondered why they even had any other artists working there at all. 

When you had (overly politely) inquired about booking with Leon, his answers were curt but not unkind. He asked what you wanted (you had scrolled through endless files of his flash sheets and available art he could do), he asked you where you wanted it (you had been convinced the thigh wouldn’t hurt as bad as some of the other spots you had considered), and told you a time and a date. It only happened to be three weeks out, which was shocking to even you, for someone as talented and probably booked as Leon was. Nonetheless, you snagged it, and now here you were, those last three weeks having flown by as if it had only been one night away.

Taking that final leap and swallowing all the nerves simmering just under the surface, you pushed your car door open and walked up to the shop.

Pulling the door open, you were affronted by two things immediately: one, the sterility was no joke. You could smell the saline and cleaning products in the air, and though the walls were dotted with the work of the artists and a glowing neon sign of the shop’s name, the decor was very minimal, and it almost felt like a hospital waiting room. Two, looking at the people that were scattered about either tattooing or receiving the tattoo, you stood out. 

You knew it wasn’t odd for someone like you to be in a tattoo shop, but it obviously turned heads nonetheless. The small area of waiting chairs and the reception booth to check in created a divide in the room, but past that, there were a smattering of artists stations in a big open room, some closed with folding dividers, some open and empty. 

At a station closest to the door, there was a man lying on his stomach getting a back tattoo observing you, arms already littered with dark ink. The artist looked the same, both sleeves and a pant leg of tattoos on him, bald head with tribal swirls etched into the skin. At a station in the middle of the room, another man was getting something done on his bicep, silver hoops in his ears glittering under the LEDs and jingling when he turned his head to the artist. A soft soundtrack of metal played over the speakers, mixing with the buzz of the tattoo machines going back and forth over their canvas.

You looked down and fidgeted with your hands in your lap, trying to keep your wandering eyes away, overly self-conscious that it was going to make you look inexperienced (which, you were, of course, but they didn’t need to know).

“Hey, I’ll be with you in a couple minutes.”

You looked up toward the voice coming from behind the reception desk. A man stood there looking down at the computer, but no doubt talking to you, the only patron waiting.

Your mouth spoke before your brain could catch up, making you stumble over the simplest of responses. “Uh, okay.”

You hoped to every higher power in existence that this man was not Leon.

He stood somewhere around six feet; broad, muscular shoulders pulling taught the cotton long sleeve he had on, rolled up to the elbows, forearms surprisingly bare, yet veins ran down long lengths of muscle. His hair was parted to the side, wisps falling into his face, a dusty brown interwoven with occasional grays. His stubble matched the same color scheme. Though he was not looking at you, you could just barely make out the sharp, unmuddled bone structure, a man touched by the gods in his design, surely.

This could not be your artist, it couldn’t be. How were you supposed to keep your calm when that man would have his hands on you? Your adrenaline was already peaking, the last thing you needed was a handsome artist to take care of you and have your mind wandering while in his chair.

You sighed and looked down again, wondering why you needed that tattoo just so damn bad.

You heard your name ring out, loud and firm. You looked up at the man who was now looking back at you.

Keep it fucking together.

“Oh, yes, that’s me.” You shifted sideways, unsure if you should stand or not.

“Cool. I’m Leon.” Fuck. “I’m just printing a couple sizes of the design you had liked, so, just hang out another minute and then I’ll have you come back with me.”

You nodded, unable to stop your fists clenching out of nervousness, now for more than one reason.

You wished your friend could have warned you about how handsome Leon was. There were no photos of him to be seen on his Instagram page, only his art being showcased. You supposed it didn’t really matter much to those being tattooed as they weren’t there to be wooed by him, but rather… to be tattooed.

And, in any other normal circumstance, you probably would not have been weak in the knees so easily by him, but the combination of doing something so intimate with the particular dry streak you were running with… well, it didn’t exactly make for the most ideal of situations.

You snuck a sly glance over at Leon as you heard the printer at the front spit out multiple pieces of paper and watched as he walked over and gathered them, leaning over to the computer once more, then leaving the desk entirely, standing between you and the large room with the taunting tattoo equipment.

“Alright, come on back with me and we can get you started.”

You stood up on unstable legs and crossed the threshold, following Leon to a station all the way to the back.

It was quite simple compared to the others in here; the chair sat in front of a set of plain black cabinets, no art or stickers on any of the doors, the counter was clean, the rolling tray was neat with new plastic wrap secured tight on its surface. Leon sat down in a small rolling chair and gestured for you to sit behind him. You hopped up onto it, watching his back as he cut out the designs.

“I’ve got three different sizes here, but if any of them still aren’t good I can either tweak the design manually or I can go and print another one, but we’ll see what works first.” He turned back towards you holding them out in his hands. “Looks like a small difference, but you’ll be able to tell when it's on you.” He stood again now, towering over you in your sitting position. He placed the designs on the chair next to you before circling your seat, pulling closed the slatted dividers for privacy.

“And with a lack of decorum I promise I usually do have, go ahead and take your pants off and we can get started.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at this, and despite how often he probably used that line with the smooth delivery, you couldn’t help the twist that formed in your gut at hearing it. When a handsome man tells you to take your pants off, your body works quickly to obey. 

Bringing himself back onto the swivel stool in front of you, you remained standing and he diverted his attention to holding the stencils up on the blank canvas of your skin. Despite seeing it coming, you couldn't help but slightly jump at the contact of his gloved hand and your skin. You hoped he didn’t notice, but you doubted it with how intently he was studying his designs against your thigh.

Throughout the few minutes of figuring out which stencil fit best, he had you face the mirror and held up different ones so you were able to decide which one suited you. To be honest, you thought they all looked the same, but you went with the biggest one, liking the way it filled up your blank skin, hoping it would give you the courage needed in the future to continue returning for more ink.

The buildup was finally coming to a close and the purple outline was delicately marking your prepped skin, you were scared to even move in fear of smudging it. Per Leon’s instruction, you sat back onto the chair and reclined so he had full access to where he would be working.

Panic was creeping back in a bit now; it had subsided temporarily with having to deal with your unfairly gorgeous tattoo artist, but now that he was about to begin his craft, you could feel your muscles start to lock in anticipation.

Leon’s hand made it back over to your thigh, one resting right atop, the other fumbling around doing god knows what on the tray he had rolled closer to work off of. A quick glance over earlier informed you of a cap full of ink, the machine wrapped with grip tape, and a popsicle stick of what looked like a petroleum jelly of sorts, but it did nothing to quell the fear. In fact, knowing probably made it worse.

“Nervous?”

Leon’s deep voice scared you out of your reverie for a quick moment, and you lolled your head over to the side to look over at him. Big mistake–he was peeking over at you from under his fringe, sporting a small smirk, undoubtedly due to your innocence in this situation.

“Uh… a bit.”

“I can tell.” He squeezed your thigh with his hand, and you were all too aware of the size and heat radiating even through the glove. This was going to be a long session. “Try your best to loosen up your muscles. I promise it doesn’t hurt as bad as you are expecting.”

You took a deep breath in, trying as hard as you could to do as Leon said and to ignore the way the buzzing was louder than ever in your ear as he fired it up. His other hand stayed firmly on your leg, and you were almost glad he did that, with his touch aiding as a distraction to avert focus from your main stressor.

“Just breathe.” 

You closed your eyes and waited for the impact, expecting some mind-blowing levels of pain that you had never experienced before. At least, that’s all you had to go on with the way your family spoke about tattoos growing up at their best attempt to ever dissuade you from getting one by instilling a deep fear of pain. You swore you heart was about to jump out of your chest, you felt movement from Leon as he leaned closer, resting his arm against the edge of the chair, brought the tattoo machine closer and closer—

Oh. That’s it.

You exhaled all you were holding when the sensation you began to feel was nothing more than thousands of miniscule pricks along your skin. The buzzing was basically the worst part of it, it was masking out any other sounds happening around you, but paired with the dull pokes you were receiving, it was oddly… relaxing.

“Not that bad, right?” Leon looked over at you for a second as he turned back to the tray to refill for another pass.

You shook your head, steadying yourself once more with a deep breath. “No, I was expecting a lot worse. I mean… I’ve heard it was way worse but my friends were telling me otherwise. I guess I should listen to people who have actually been tattooed before…” 

Leon was silent but not in a rude way as he listened and went back to tattooing. You knew you shouldn’t distract him, but your brain was wandering now with the rhythm of the needles punching your skin and the buzz from the machine being almost meditative. You couldn’t see too much of anything; Leon’s plain booth was in front of you, so there was no art for you to explore while you laid there. The dividers he had set for privacy blocked your view of the rest of the shop, unable to see what other artists there had to offer. Leon had his head down, hair blocking his side profile as he was deep in work, giving all his attention to putting the best art possible on your body. You zoned out for a while, deciding to let your body rest rather than engage in more screen time.

Eventually, Leon spoke up again, actually startling you while you became zen.

“Try and shift your leg to the left a bit here…” He gently guided you in the direction he needed you to face. You followed suit, and tapped you once to signal you were in position. “I’m going to be doing this part of the design that goes a bit closer to your inner thigh here, so it might hurt just a bit more than the top.”

You nodded, anticipation returning as you braced yourself. He didn’t lie–it was a bit more painful than the top of your thigh, but you could handle it now that you had sat through at least an hour of the feeling. It pinched slightly harder at the tender skin on the inside, making you wince, but steady breathing and listening to the repeated motion of the machine brought you back down.

By the time the session was over, you had lost track of time and were surprised to see the sun had set already, making you wonder if you had actually fallen asleep in the chair and Leon was too kind to wake you up.

He finished you off by gently rubbing a paper towel dampened with solution along the design, wiping off any leftover ink that hadn’t been embedded in your skin and applying a saniderm on top of it. Thorough care instructions were both spoken and written down on a sheet he handed to you on the way out.

Stapling a care sheet together with a business card on top, he handed it to you over the counter. “Care is super easy, but if you forget what I told you, just refer to what's in here.” You took it from him, leafing through it. “But, if you have any issues, reach out. Don’t be afraid to. You can get to me through where we set the appointment up.” You nodded, ready to thank him and leave, but he kept going. “Seriously, I stress that part because if there’s something that pops up like blowout or an infection, I’d like to know as soon as possible. If I do the work I’ll do my best to remedy the situation.”

You nodded and smiled at him again. “I really appreciate that. I can’t imagine any artist not wanting to take that approach.”

He quirked another smile, leaning forward on the counter, bulging muscles in his biceps on display. You couldn’t help but dash a quick look, and you felt the heat rising to your face when you knew for sure Leon had seen you look. “You’d be surprised.”

You stood silent for another second, brain lagging behind your normal thought process speed. God, this reaction was so pathetic, had the dry streak really been that long that the mere sight of Leon’s huge arms threw you off balance?

Your cheeks were burning and you could sense now you were about to start stumbling on your words, and the last thing you needed after sitting through a three hour long tattoo session with an insanely hot artist was to embarrass yourself any more in front of him.

“Well, I–um, I’m glad you are prepared enough to handle that if it happens. Which I hope it won’t. But, happy that you would help.” Leave already. “Well, thank you again, I love it so much. I’ll probably put it on my Instagram or something if you need more art to showcase, I’m always down to model it.” What?! “Thanks again!”

You backed out of the shop door, the mental image of Leon’s grin just widening the more you rambled on, face flaming hot and lungs deprived of fresh air. You heard him shout ‘have a good night’ as you walked as fast as possible without breaking into a sprint to your car, and you had a feeling he was watching you the whole time.

All you could do was sit slumped over onto the steering wheel, contemplating the last 30 seconds and wishing to anyone listening to rewind and do it one more time.

It was one thing to get a tattoo, which you did. It was another thing to have it done by a very attractive, older tattoo artist who had so much muscle on him you weren’t entirely unconvinced he couldn’t choke someone out using only his thumb and forefinger alone. It was a complete other third thing to then go on and make a fool of yourself because you got too flustered by his appearance after sitting there, pants down in front of him, doing the closest thing to sex in terms of intimacy, and leaving a bumbling mess.

Yeah, he surely wouldn’t forget you now.

Luck happened to be in your favor for the next few days of the healing journey as no signs of blowout appeared nor did anything feel off in the process. It was tender, of course, and the skin was red for the first day afterwards, but when you peeled off the second skin on the third day and watched the ink mixed with plasma flow down the drain, you couldn’t stop staring at your new body modification that you knew you needed more of.

Unable to keep the excitement at bay and needing others to know you had finally braved the needle, you had posted a picture of it on your social media, captioned with your enthusiasm about it, and graciously tagging Leon’s account, hoping to give him more traffic via your friends.

The usual influx of your friends flooded into your DMs complimenting the art, complimenting you for finally doing it, and even those you hadn’t spoken to in forever chiming in, boosting your ego existentially.

One message, however, caught your eye when the notification flashed on screen.

leonsk.ink: Healing wonderfully. I was worried when I hadn’t heard from you, but I suppose that’s a good sign.

Just when you managed to shuck the feeling that Leon had left you with in his presence, the mere notification that he had responded to your tag had your stomach in knots again as if you were going to unclothe yourself for him once more.

You stared at the notification, scared to even open it, knowing you would feel the pressure of crafting the perfect response once he could see that you have viewed it. Your blood started racing through your veins at the mere thought of him going out of his way to add to the pool of compliments you were receiving, and it was on his own art, no less.

He could possibly just be following up, maybe he does this to everyone. Maybe it is just his common courtesy to make sure that his clients are as satisfied as possible. It could be nothing more than that. But yet…

The way he worded it. I was worried when I hadn’t heard from you. So, he had been looking forward to a message from you? Even if it was about something going wrong in the healing process? The thought made you both amused and thrilled that, in one way or another, he had been wanting to speak with you again.

You opened the message, and replied.

You: All due to you, of course! Although, I can’t help but assume that sounds like you wanted something to go wrong just so I’d message you?!

You wondered what he could be doing right now. It was almost 3PM on a Tuesday and you had just finished up your own remote work assignments, but Leon probably didn’t have a client if he was able to be on his phone and message you, or in between two. The thought that Leon was booked and busy was no surprise to you. With art that phenomenal, he had to be.

leonsk.ink: Well, when you put it like that it sounds bad. But, here you are anyways, so something went right I guess.

You bit your lip, unable to fight the smile making its way onto your face. It was much easier to talk to Leon without being in front of him, so you decided to get bold.

You: Something did go right. Now that I have proof of your mastery, I’m waiting for some more from you!

You felt like a high schooler again, flirting with your crush over the phone, knowing inevitably you would clam up and not make a move in real life. The screen gave you a sense of confidence in the craft, letting you say what you couldn’t even get out without stumbling over every word in front of him.

leonsk.ink: I’m waiting for more as well. I’d love to see where else you can offer up for me to draw on.

Was he saying what you thought he was saying? This was obviously blatant flirting, yes, and you had to be thankful he was doing it now and not while he was tattooing you, giving him a distraction. Plus, if he did try to flirt in person, you knew it would be a repeat of what happened on your way out of the shop, unable to form a coherent sentence because his massive biceps had hit the hard reset button in your brain.

You wanted to respond with just as much banter as he was throwing at you, but on the chance he was actually trying to see you again… it would be much harder to live up to your words.

You: Lucky for you I’ve got plenty more. I’ll let you decide what’s the perfect spot.

Leon went quiet for a few minutes this time, not reading the message either. Completely reasonable from a working adult, but it did not help the rapid pace of your heartbeat and the anticipation of seeing a message from him pop up again.

The longest hour (20 minutes) of your life later, another message, but this one was a bit more direct than the last few.

leonsk.ink: Why don’t you come by this weekend and I’d love to let you know where I want to put one.

Fuck a somersault, your stomach did an entire gymnastics routine reading that. So he really did mean what he said, and he’s now inviting you over to his house. You weren’t an idiot, obviously you knew what he was insinuating by his words, and no part of you wanted to run away from this, but you couldn't help those nerves that crept up again, just like you were about to get another tattoo.

Perhaps it wasn’t even the tattoo in the first place. Maybe it was just Leon, and you had some third eye that knew what the interaction at the shop would bring.

You were going to agree, of course, in what world wouldn’t you? You could not pass up the opportunity to fuck your incredibly hot, older tattoo artist if he was showing just as much interest in you as you were in him. Sure, maybe your interest was much more shameful than you’d like to admit, but thank god Leon was able to pick through the mess you left with and see right through your poor disguise of normalcy. You almost couldn’t even believe he was interested in you to begin with… Out of all the clients he probably sees, he picked the first timer who couldn’t spit out one sentence?!

You: I think I can make that work.

Now you had the whole rest of the week to sit through knowing there was the promise of seeing Leon again at the end. Maybe it was in your best interest to be waiting that long, you’d have enough time to get yourself together to avoid another one-sided incident.

Leon sent back an address and the simple instruction to just park next to him in the driveway. You weren’t normal about this (naturally), so putting the address into Google Earth gave you the image of a small, one-story house on a quiet road, barely littered with other houses and what looked to be dense acreage behind it. Despite the fact this house probably didn’t offer much more than two bedrooms and maybe two bathrooms at most, you assumed it had to have cost him a pretty penny. There’s no way only tattooing provided that for him, even if he had been doing it for a long time. There had to have been something else, and that only intrigued you further.

There was nothing else to do besides wait for the time to come. Literally and metaphorically.

Once it did roll around, however, you were standing in front of your mirror obsessively checking your appearance. You kept having to remind yourself that if Leon was still flirting with you and making advances towards you after the state he saw you in, then he probably wouldn’t care, especially not if you put in more effort than just comfortable clothes to get tattooed in. 

It really was the tattoo nerves all over again, but there was no mystery of pain on the other side, quite frankly, it was the complete opposite, and yet you were overcome by the adrenaline of it. Putting Leon aside for a second, this made sense, considering you hadn’t prioritized trying to get laid in recent times, but who were you to deny the chance now that it was here?

There was no denial here, and certainly less of a chance now that you were pulling up to the driveway you had studied on Google Earth. It looked exactly the same as it did on your screen–the house was a deep blue, crisp white frame and fence to match, neatly manicured lawn and garden; you smiled at the thought that Leon took such care to make sure the presentation of his home was neat and tidy. 

You pulled in next to a black SUV parked closest to the walkway, a Porsche Cayenne, sparkling under the streetlight (yes, singular, it was rather difficult keeping track of the road with just your headlights), clean as if it hadn’t been driven since it rolled off the lot. A GT Turbo, too, upon closer inspection. This raised more eyebrows to your more-money-than-just-tattoo-artist theory.

The street was so quiet when you stepped out of the car. You had expected as much given the nearest neighbor that you passed on the way in wasn’t even visible from where you were standing. It was oddly peaceful. It helped to alleviate the stress of the current situation.

The cool night air settled around you as you stood atop the porch, knocking twice, stepping back, and waiting. You heard noise from behind the door, using these last seconds to stabilize. It swung open, and you nearly forgot how to breathe.

“Glad you could make it. I thought for a second you’d go off and find another artist.” You giggled at his remark, and stepped in when he gestured for you to enter. He kept talking while you looked around and followed him into the kitchen. “I know my invitation was kind of sudden but… you were a fun subject. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t interested. I don’t think it was too one sided by the impression you left with.” You didn’t need to turn around to hear the smile in his voice. You shook your head and laughed along with him.

“Oh, god… don’t even bring it up.” You turned finally, having sat down at the chair he offered you at the island counter. “I couldn’t help it. I was already nervous about getting my first tattoo, which did turn out fine, but on top of it I had…” You let the sentence taper off, gesturing in front of you at Leon, the unspoken words very understandable. 

Leon leaned forward toward you across the counter. “Sorry to be so distracting. I hope it at least relieved the pain.” His smirk was killer. You couldn’t take your eyes off of his face, especially in this low lighting, every shadow and highlight contrasting perfectly to paint a picture of this unreal man standing before you.

You put your chin on a hand, propping your elbow on top of the counter’s surface. “It definitely helped, but then I just had to worry about making a mess of myself in front of you, which I did anyway. But we aren’t talking about that.” Leon quirked an eyebrow, signaling he did in fact think it was very funny. At least your embarrassment amused him. “You know… thinking about it, when I was recommended to book with you, my friend had said you fill up pretty fast, but you got me in in less than a month.”

Leon lifted himself off of his elbows and rested on the heels of his palms now, flexing every muscle in his arm. You tried not to stare, but considering the environment and the reason you had been brought here… you stared.

“Originally, when I saw someone was trying to get in with me–you, obviously–I didn’t have an opening until about 5 months from now. There was a lull in booking when you messaged me, and there just coincidentally happened to be a cancellation on the time and date that you came in. If it weren’t for that… you’d still be waiting.”

This wasn’t surprising to hear, knowing how good Leon was and how strongly recommended he was from your friends, you had expected even longer. You were glad that person had to cancel. Imagine if you were still waiting for only a tattoo right now? Instead you were in Leon’s house because he invited you. All because of that appointment.

“Sounds about right. So many people want you. You have people there all day every day and you are still booking out months in advance.” You looked up at him and made eye contact, finally drawing your gaze away from his arms. He stared down at you, half-lidded eyes crested in the shadow of his brow bone. Your breath stuttered.

“Well, not exactly. I only tattoo two days a week.”

“Oh?” You straightened at this. “What else do you do?” Finally you will get your answer. “That’s a real nice car outside.” No point in being subtle now.

His grin held steady. “Government stuff.”

You hummed at this. “Interesting. Like?”

“Like government stuff.” His voice was so low and raspy it was almost a growl. You said nothing to this, simply captivated by his aura. “They can reach me whenever they want, as long as it's not the two days I’m busy at the shop.” He tilted his head, taking you in from another angle. You took a second to just stare at him, now that you finally had the chance. You still couldn’t believe you were even here right now.

“For a side hustle you do an awfully good job at it. How come you don’t expand? Or have you thought about it?” You kept your eyes locked onto his, already feeling yourself going weak, anticipating the moment he finally got his hands on you.

“You said it yourself,” He broke eye contact for just a second to gesture his gaze upwards towards the front door. “That’s a real nice car outside.”

You smiled at this, having your suspicions about another job confirmed, even if he was being picky about the details. You supposed you had to respect this, there was probably only so much he could say if it was a government job. You couldn’t deny that you were kind of into that, though. There was something about the secret that made it more enticing.

Leon spoke again before you could conjure anything else, too enveloped in the promise of the physical touch to come.

“And anyway, how is your’s doing? It looked like it was healing well.” 

Your hand instinctively went to your thigh under the counter's surface, fingers teasing with the hem of the skirt you had on. 

Why waste time with pants?

“I think it’s doing pretty well, it feels and looks fine, but, I don’t know, you’re the professional. You should probably see for yourself.” 

You watched as a devilish smile slowly bloomed on his face. He lifted himself off the counter and circled around to you, standing right in front of where you sat, looking down.

“Good call.” Leon moved quickly–he gathered both of your wrists together in one hand and put them around his neck, and in the same motion, he dropped his hands once yours were steady and planted them under your thighs. He lifted you off of the counter stool, and you couldn’t help the excited squeak that came out of you when you were suddenly detached from the seat. 

Your arms tightened around his neck, your thighs squeezing his ridiculously toned torso. You were caught in the flurry of the sudden movement that you didn’t even catch any scenery of the home flying by, you could only anticipate where Leon was taking you and when you would get there. 

After he turned a corner, you watched his foot kick a door shut, and a second later you were being lowered onto a soft surface. It didn’t take you long to figure out this was his bedroom.

You laid back after Leon let you go, propping yourself up on your elbows, head tilted sideways, simply just watching him. He looked even bigger when he stood before you like this; every muscle bulging, chest rising and falling. 

“Let’s see it.” 

You almost forgot the whole talking point that brought you here, hesitating a second before your hand drifted down to the hem of your skirt once again. You slid it up your thigh, purposefully letting the fabric pull itself taut along your other leg, revealing more underneath than intended. But you were prepared for that. You knew what you were about to get into. 

Leon’s head fell to the side slowly as he let his eyes roam over his work, but you saw them drift. They spent more time examining the color of underwear you picked out for the night rather than actually inspecting the art.

(Not like you could blame him. You knew he wasn’t interested in double checking what he knew he was already good at.)

“You took good care of it. Now I know you’re ready for more.”

You dropped your hand from holding your skirt up, letting it stay hitched. You held eye contact, surprised at your ability despite feeling like you could fumble this at any second.

You took a deep breath in, forcing your nerves down. “Where would you recommend?”

Leon looked away from you and down at your legs again. One hand was braced on the same knee of the leg you were showcasing his art on, while the other hovered over the opposite thigh.

“Well, legs are always a great place to start…” His voice lowered even more if it were possible. His hand finally made contact, skirting along over the skin of the inner thigh, tracing lines with his fingertip, sending a chill up your body. He palmed your hip as he moved upwards, letting his thumb whisper over the thin material of the panty, making you want to buck up into his touch.

His fingers pushed the hem of your shirt up to your ribcage, gliding his thumb across the smooth expanse of skin on your stomach. Your eyes followed the path it made. “Anywhere on the torso is good for once you’ve done multiple and want to step it up. If you can handle the pain.”

Leon barely lifted his hand anymore as he moved higher again, letting any and all contact happen with your breast over your shirt. You took another deep breath in, feeling how unstable it was.

When his fingers reached your neck, he pushed your chin upward using his thumb, forcing you to look up at him again. There was no mistaking the lustful look in his eye, like he was ready to devour you. His hand left your neck and snaked its way through your hair, balling together at the scalp, and you softly hissed at the tension as he pulled your head back even further. 

“And maybe even that pretty neck of yours could make any tattoo look appealing.”

You fought your best against the whimper that was threatening to release itself, but you ultimately lost. Just Leon’s touch alone had your body weak for him, no longer having the rhythmic sting of the tattoo machine there to distract you. He brought himself down to your face, nowhere else to look except for into his eyes. 

“Basically… whatever parts of yourself you’re willing to put on display.”

You could barely even form words, your attention being caught between the lethal stare from Leon and the numbing pull of his fist in your hair. He stood with your legs in between his, and you couldn’t ignore his stiff dick pressing into your leg. You needed this badly. You needed him.

You swallowed, thick and heavy, mouth salivating with arousal. You looked into his eyes, pupils blown, feeling any last sense of courage drain from your limbs.

You could only manage a whisper, your body already too overstimulated, senses being pulled in every direction. “What do you want to do with me?”

Leon hummed in return, something closer to a growl. 

“I’d rather just show you.”

You gasped as the force pulling your head back by the hair suddenly vanished, leaving you reeling in the spot. Leon backed up from you with speed, ordering, “Take your clothes off,” while his eyes never left your body.

Despite yourself, and the overflow of emotion you were feeling during this, you couldn’t help but breath out a laugh at his words.

“Is this the decorum you promised me before the tattoo?”

You watched his face as you slowly shed your shirt and bra, his eyes not meeting yours, simply glued to your body.

“I didn't bring you in here immediately. That was the decorum.”

You bit your tongue to keep in any more nervous laughter and continued to undress under his scrutinizing gaze. When you pulled the skirt down to show off the less-than-discreet thong you chose to adorn, he took a step towards you and ordered you to stop your movement and get back onto the bed.

Spreading your legs using a hand on your knee and his own body, he wedged himself between you, his hard dick tenting in his pants, begging to break free. You could practically feel how wet you were, the cool air on your exposed body parts making the wetness evident, no confirmation needed.

Leon didn’t move for a full second. All he did was stare down at you, making you writhe under his gaze, your nipples tightening, needing friction on them, on everywhere. He seemed to take joy in just watching you squirm while he did nothing except look at you, wanting to see how long you could wait before pleading with him to touch you. You weren’t above begging in this situation if he wanted it, clearly he did, and the wave of lust crashing over you rewired any normal function you could have otherwise offered him.

You choked out, “Leon… please.”

His eyes snapped up to yours and you saw his true mood reflected in them; he was completely overtaken by pure passion. His hands were attached to your thighs a second later, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him. He had you spread open, standing in between your legs, your own core flush to his straining waistband. 

Your stare was attached to his movements as he let his eyes roam even more over your bare body, his hands sliding upwards along your thighs and fingers hooking underneath the thin straps of the thong. 

He was taking painfully long to pull them down. You needed his contact desperately, you could feel the throbbing of your heat as you were aching for him to touch you, be inside you. You wished he would just move quicker and rip the underwear off of you, not only wanting to be free in front of him but needing the uncomfortable choice of lingerie to be laying on the floor already.

You couldn’t help but continue to squirm, gently lifting your hips off of the bed trying to signal to him you wanted him to move. It took far too long for your liking but he finally dragged the small piece of fabric down your legs and dropped it on the floor beside him. 

Your breath hitched when Leon bent down, leveling himself with your dripping cunt and you wanted nothing more than for his mouth to press itself against you. Your head fell back, already anticipating the sensation, but you only gasped when what you actually felt was unexpected.

His mouth was on you, that was for sure, but he planted his lips along the soft, tender skin of your inner thigh, leaving you untouched where you needed it most. 

Your hand found his wrist that still had a hold of your legs and you squeezed it, looking for leverage as you felt his teeth nipping at your flesh, sensations jumping between soft bites and warm, wet licks of his tongue as he marked your skin.

When he was done with the first one, he moved down, even closer now, but continued in his mission to pepper you with bruises from his mouth. It was only causing the strain in your core to tighten, every touch of his lips and swipe of his tongue had you dying for more, needing him like air.

With the third one, he was so terribly close to your center, and his bites were getting erratic and harder, your gasps sharpening, his hands clenching more bruises into your thighs, you were sure he was also desperate for contact on his dick and yet he continued to tend to you, marking you up. Marking you as his.

When he let go, you exhaled shakily, waiting for the beginning of the fourth hickey, but instead you jumped in surprise when he delivered a stiff slap to the side of your ass, and instantly, his mouth was on you, warm and wet, tongue gliding smoothly from entrance to clit.

You choked on a gasp at the sudden contact, mouth open but no sound heard. With one hand still stationed on his wrist, the other threaded through his long hair, keeping stability as he worked you open.

His tongue lapped at your clit, breaking up the softness with the occasional sting of a bite, making your nerves spike, but increasing your arousal. He held your thighs open as you twitched in response to his pleasure, keeping you peeled so he was unobstructed.

Your inhales and moans mixed with the slick suckling and occasional spanks from Leon, head thrown back on the soft comforter as he brought you closer to the edge, the heat building not only within you, but also on the surface, his mouth becoming a furnace attached to your cunt. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling nothing but pleasure as he continued his attack on your clit, nearly going lightheaded.

He moved downward, finally giving the sensitive bud a rest and prodding his tongue at your entrance, giving you just a fraction of relief, but it was nowhere near enough. You knew that he knew this too, as he did this, deliberately teasing you by poking inward, and retracting his tongue before you could make your best attempt at grinding yourself onto his face. 

Without warning, he pulled away, and the ice cold air that filled in the space where his mouth was made you shiver. He pulled your thigh open again, examining his work (of his mouth, not his ink), and grunting in satisfaction before he leaned over you, looking into your lidded eyes, clouded over and hazy.

He held his hand out for you, and with your own shaky hand, you took it, and he gently lifted you into a sitting position, cold air making your skin break out in goosebumps. 

“Turn around.”

You did as you were told and positioned yourself to face the bed, back towards him. He guided you to where he wanted you with hands on your hips, pulling you closer, planting one on the center of your shoulder blades and pushing you downward, ass in the air for him.

One of his hands remained palming a cheek and you reveled in the warmth it brought you as you waited for him to make another move. You could only hope he wasn't going to keep you like this as long as he had before.

The unmistakable sound of a zipper was heard from behind you, followed by the rustle of clothing. You couldn’t wait, yet you wanted a vantage point to be able to still watch Leon at the same time.

His hands grabbed both sides of your hips once more and lifted you into the air, shoving a pillow you weren’t sure when he grabbed underneath your pelvis, giving him more leverage for his angle. Your legs were basically off the bed, but the height of the mattress and the pillow proved to be the ideal height for this purpose.

With one hand still firmly gripping your cheek, he used a finger from the other to drag a long, slow stripe up your cunt, from clit to entrance, making you whine in need. He wouldn’t go further, he simply kept you on the edge until he decided it was enough.

You felt a hand snake through your hair once again, and when he tugged you backwards, his mouth was next to your ear. You arched into his touch, pushing your ass into his crotch.

“You can tell me when it’s too much,” You only whimpered in response, not having enough brain power to conjure words, but taking in what he was saying. “I just know you’ll be addictive.” 

Breathing was the only answer he got, besides a pathetic nod of your head while he had you captive in his grip. Using said grip, he tilted your head sideways, baring your neck out, to which he planted a mix of small kisses and bites along the length. You balled your hands into fists, taking the comforter with you, the tickle of his mouth and the chill of the air and the weight of his cock that came to lay directly between your ass cheeks as he hovered over you proving to be nearly the point of overstimulation.

Leon let you go, lowering your head before releasing your hair. The hand that was on your cheek remained firm, spreading you open as you felt the kiss of the head of his dick pressing into your entrance. You dropped your head forward onto the sheets, giving up on making any attempt to look over your shoulder at him. Your mouth hung open in silent screams as he made his way further in, pushing in a little more then pulling out, coating himself in your slick so you could take him deeper. He must have squirted a small amount of lube along his length as you could feel the frictionless glide of something much smoother (and colder) than skin alone. How he worked quick enough to get that done was beyond you, but it could have been multiple minutes that you were laying there, a dizzy mess. Not that it mattered, whatever made the process quicker.

You felt the delicious, burning stretch kick in as he kept going, the pressure of his pelvis and balls pushing into the delicate skin around your heat. Once he bottomed out, he groaned from behind you, making you melt even further, heightening the arousal and dampening any lingering pain from the stretch. One of his hands returned to your back, forcing you down into the bed. His other hand lifted off of your ass only to come back down rapidly, the slap ringing out, followed quickly by a broken moan from you. 

Leon dragged himself out of you, taking his time, reveling in the way you sucked him in. You reached a hand down to grip his arm, needing something studier than the fabric of the sheets to secure yourself too while he pulled nearly all the way out, and took his sweet time pushing right back in. 

Leon groaned again once he was all the way in, breathing heavily through his nose as he tightened his grip on you. 

“Fuck,” He rasped, and the next in and out movement was not as slow as you were loathe to imagine he would be pacing himself the whole time. He jerked his hips outward only halfway and pushed himself in, the clap of skin pairing well with the fullness you were experiencing. With every one of these movements, your body was ricocheted forward, your nipples creating friction from the bedsheets, somehow feeling Leon go deeper with every thrust.

The hand on your back moved up to the nape of your neck, thumb and fingers squeezing just enough to apply a choking-like pressure. He continued at his pace, providing quick snaps of the hips and a cacophony of sounds happening in the room.

This continued for another undefined amount of time–Leon holding you steady by the hip and pistoning into you, your moans and whimpers mixing with the slaps of skin from both his hands and his thrusts. You buried your face into the comforter as if it could go any deeper, but it served to dampen the moans that had enough velocity to come out nearly as screams.

Leon felt excruciatingly good, the rapid fire of his dick bringing relief to your core like you were desperate for the minute you stepped into his house, into his bedroom, the minute you undressed for him. The way he handled you had you like putty, your arms like jelly, using any left strength you had left to keep the arch for him, and to keep the angle at its prime spot.

Leon was heavenly to listen to; hearing this grown man do nothing but grunt and pant at the feeling you were leaving him with did more to stimulate you than you would have thought. It was a sound you were drinking up. You knew you would need more as soon as they ended.

Suddenly, you could feel Leon pressing deeper into you than he was before, making you choke out a whine at the burn. He was leaning himself over you, chest flush with your back, hand removed from your neck to support him next to your head. His forehead dropped down and crashed into your hair, mouth next to your ear. 

You heard nothing but his deep breaths for a second, but then he spoke. “Can you take it?”

His voice was so low, you swore you felt the vibrations in your guts. Turning your head to the side, you caught his eye. You were sure you looked a mess, hair everywhere and makeup probably smeared across your eyes. Nonetheless, you still saw him quirk a smile, satisfied at the way he had you undone. 

You opened your mouth to reply, knowing the sound coming out would be nothing over a whisper.

“I can take it…”

He hummed at your response, smiling wider, wickeder.

“Good girl.”

He lifted himself from you, but the depth of his dick didn’t relent. The hand that was beside your head lifted from the bed and was now back for the third time at the base of your scalp, hoisting you upwards, intensifying the angle of your arch. 

Holding you steady by both the hip and the head, he drew himself out of your wetness and plummeted back in, harder and heavier than he had been doing before. It elicited wanton moans from you, most of them turning to voiceless whimpers as the force of your head being held back cut off most sound from escaping.

If your eyes weren’t squeezed shut, they were wandering aimlessly, not being able to focus on anything except the sweet sting of every slap of his balls to your dripping cunt. His breathing picked up, as did his groans, it was music to your ears.

“Fuck,” Leon cursed again, hips stuttering their pace. “This pussy is taking me so well,” You wanted so badly to go limp in his arms and just let him have his way with you, but the burn of your hair being pulled kept you upright. “I knew you’d be a problem for me.”

As much as you wanted to process what he was saying, you were too enraptured with the way he was thrusting into you, every muscle in your body burning and tightening with the imminent release that was coming.

Instead, you said nothing, breathing unsteadily and feeling every hit of the head of his dick in you, everything pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

The hand that had remained on your hip this whole time finally moved positions, slithering up your back, feeling every flex and ripple of your skin. He trailed it over your ribcage and around the front, grasping a tit in his hand, softly squeezing and pinching the nipple.

You were approaching the peak, you could feel it. Between taking him to the brim and the caressing of your chest and the sound of his pleasure mixing with your own, it was all too much to handle. 

If Leon was also getting closer to his limit, you were barely able to tell. His hips lost rhythm here and there, but the pace was quickly regained, and his stamina was everlasting. If he kept going, it would be far past the point of pleasure for you, but you had to reach that first. It was so, so close.

Putting in all the effort you could to make sound, you hoped he would be able to hear it over his own sounds.

“Leon…”

He didn’t need any clarification to know that you were warning him. He slowed down his pace only for a second to reposition your hips, bringing your ass higher in the air for him. The hand not in your hair was by your side now, holding himself up above you. He continued, but not before responding to your plea. “Come for me, baby.”

This angle provided only more stimulation than not. It was somehow even deeper than before, and Leon had an endless reserve of energy to borrow from as his speed never slowed down, not even if his own orgasm was right on the brink along with yours. 

You were whining to the point of crying now, the sensation bringing a tear to your eye as you heightened all too fast, overstimulation quickly taking its place, but hanging on to chase the sweet relief just out of sight.

“Oh, god… Leon!” 

Your hand flew out to stabilize yourself on his wrist as flashes of white shone underneath your scrunched eyelids. Your body shuddered, still taking him as he fucked you through your orgasm. You felt the amount of slickness between you two increase. Leon gently lowered your head to the bed, finally slowing down his pace as he watched the wave of pleasure come and go from your body. 

He pulled out of you, the emptiness making you wince, making you miss the fullness, yet knowing it would only end in disaster if you kept going.

Between heavy breaths, Leon spoke from behind you, “Turn over.”

With weak arms and assistance from Leon, he helped to roll you over onto your back, legs hoisted up onto his thighs as he kneeled on the mattress in front of you. 

He had no shirt on. Again, you weren’t sure when this happened, but anything could have been happening behind you while your eyes were shut and you were facing away. His chest glistened with sweat. His torso was littered with patches of hair, only contouring all of his muscles further. Sweat glued strands of hair onto his forehead as well, painting a picture of a blissed-out man.

He held his wet cock in his hand, stroking himself the last of the way to his own climax. He used the other arm to prop himself up once more, bringing his forehead to rest on yours as you watched him bring himself to orgasm. 

There was little friction to slow him down from all the fluids mixing between the both of you, and his grunts sped up as he stroked himself faster and he got closer and closer. 

With a hitch of his breath and a twitch of his abdomen, he was shooting his ropes all over your stomach and chest, the warm, white liquid coating your glistening skin, dripping down the curves of your tits and down the side of your body, into the sheets that absorbed every other liquid from this exchange. 

You felt his body convulse slightly with every spurt, and with his cum now emptied out of him, breathing heavy, he dropped his head into the crook of your neck while he came down.

With a pained groan, he pushed himself upwards after a minute. 

“Let’s get this cleaned up,” Once you had been wiped down with nothing left to drip anywhere else, Leon gently lifted you upwards to a standing position, letting you use him as leverage on your shaky feet. If it weren’t for him, you’re sure you would be in a heap on the floor by now.

If you had organically run into someone like Leon, the stereotypes about someone like him would be drastically different from the man he turned out to be. Someone as tall, broad, and handsome had to have been at least a little stuck up somewhere in his life, but Leon showed you none of that. 

He cared for you afterwards, cleaned you and let you stay the night considering he only had the free time to have you over when it was already bordering the time most of the world was falling asleep. Even though he was the one who said it first, you couldn’t help but to agree. 

You knew he’d be a problem for you. 

The sun crept in without urgency, and your eyes were heavy as they fought against whatever light did make its way into the room. You sighed, reveling in the comfort, knowing it had to end at some point.

Leon had stayed glued to you all night, another unexpected trait from him. Despite the fact that he had only tattooed you once and had barely any small talk before blowing your back out, he was tender in the moments when he needed to be. You two ended up staying awake much later than anticipated, finally doing all that talking that didn’t happen hours ago. 

You were already getting used to his company. You knew you would want to see him again, but if it was for another tattoo or to be under him again, that was really up in the air.

You weren’t sure what Leon’s schedule this morning was like. He hadn’t said he was working, and it wasn’t one of the days he said he was only at the tattoo parlor. Despite this, you were still confused when you finally stretched your body out in bed and he wasn’t next to you.

It looked as if he had left hours ago, but you had no recollection of being woken up at any time that he left. The sheets and pillow were both already chilled, his side being tucked up neatly, only yours being mussed, only yours looking actually slept in. 

You sat up further, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and finally catching sight of something on the pillow.

You pulled the note off the fabric, reading the delicate handwriting.

I wouldn’t have left if I could have helped it. That other fancy government job called, and I’ve always got to answer. Sorry to leave you. I’ll be in touch with you again soon.

You lowered the note and stared out the window. The sky was bright, and the sunshine helped lift your mood even the slightest, feeling thrown off balance now from the sudden absence of your bedside partner. You laid back down, resolving to get up in another five minutes, because even after all this, Leon’s bed was the best thing you had ever felt.

(And no, it wasn’t only because you had been manhandled the night before and were now very sore.)

Movement at the end of the bed made you sit upright suddenly, having been startled from the silent moment you were enjoying. A medium sized, fluffy, black cat had hopped up and was now walking towards you.

“Oh… hi.”

You stared at it, not remembering Leon saying anything about a cat. Regardless, it was a pleasant surprise, and even more so now discovering it was friendly, rubbing its head on your outstretched hand for it.

“I didn’t know Leon had a roommate.”

How a cat this sociable had managed to stay hidden all night was a mystery, but now that it had crawled out of the woodwork and was making quick work of befriending you, you couldn’t complain.

Once you were on the way out, you pat the friendly creature on top of the head and made your exit. Even though he said he would be in touch, it wouldn’t hurt to beat him to it, right?

You opened your DMs.

You: Thanks for everything. It was unforgettable.

You attached a picture of the cat standing on top of you in the bed that you had quickly snapped.

You: Also, I’m taking this little guy home.

By the time you pulled back up to your house, mentally prepared to start another mundane week, Leon had replied.

leonsk.ink: He’s always been good at picking out the right people. Guess I’ll need to have you back over sooner than I thought.

Even on the night you weren’t expecting anything in the way of meeting a man, it was curious how you drew the attraction of the only one in the establishment that you found yourself drawn to.

He’s standing at a pool table with some friends, watching shots be taken and waiting to line his cue stick up to take his shot, and after sinking his designated striped ball, you catch his eye, not able to take your own eyes off of his causal pool skills.

Now, obviously, knowing he’s being watched he has to show off.

You really take a moment to thank whoever made it standard to put lamps so low and close to the pool table; you could see the muscles under his shirt flex and bend with the light as he leaned over to take another shot.

You just can’t help but continue to watch the game play out, no one seems to pay attention to how you two keep locking eyes, playing a silent game of who will say something first.

Taking a deep breath, you knock back the rest of your drink and stride over to the table, lurking on the outside, looking to others as if you wanted to see the result of the game. But he knew better, of course.

It was his turn. He examined the table for a second, finding the perfect angle to maximize his turn to shoot. Locking in on his target, he motioned you over with his head. “Come shoot for me. Help me win.”

Grabbing the stick from him, you can’t help but giggle as you shamefully admit you don’t really know how to play, that you’ll only make him lose.

“Don’t worry about that, let me show you.”

Both his hands were on yours as he lined you up, positioning you to have a steady base to shoot from, simulating the force in order to hit it hard or soft. He was throwing off heat, you could feel it on your back, and subconsciously, you melted into him as he taught you.

You couldn’t believe your luck when you actually sunk the ball he had directed you toward. He erupted in a cheer from behind you, his friends and opponents couldn’t help but laugh at how it truly gave him an advantage (and at the ridiculous play he had getting you to come over).

You took one more shot at his discretion, but no frowns were passed around when you missed that one. He laughed kindly, took the stick back, but told you to stick around, clearly you were his lucky charm.

He went on to win the game, and you couldn’t help but be his cheerleader in that moment.

He held his hand out for you to take. “Clearly a great game partner. Let’s go another round. I’m Leon, by the way.” You really couldn’t fight the smile that spread on your face when you accepted another game, watching his face mirror your own.

The two of you took turns playing, but it was clear that Leon was the one keeping you two ahead in terms of the score. He kept gently correcting your form, still cheering you on when you sunk and when you missed.

“Check this out,” The dangerous tone of a man about to attempt a stupid trick shot, but you were intrigued and had to see it play out. He lined up his shot, turned his head to you, and with a wink, he hit the cue ball, directly hitting its target as intended. “Okay, now you’re just showing off!”

Another game won, and you believed maybe it was that you were indeed a lucky charm. You sat back as he continued to play (only because he asked you to stay), and you kept cheering him on, clearly seeing he loved the attention. From someone like you, how could he not?

Regardless of if it was a one night instance of a fateful run in at the bar, or if Leon decided to continue his lucky streak with you since it paid off so well the first time, it was a night that would be truly unforgettable, and you always thought of Leon whenever you were around a pool table.

a/n: i’ll admit i lowkey took inspo from one of me and my bf’s first dates. iconicccc

An aggravated sigh leaves your lips as you rake your gaze over yourself in the mirror one last time. If you’re being forced to go to this, you might as well try to look the best.

“You ready yet? Don’t wanna cut it too close.” You hear Chris, your deskmate and temporary event date, call out from the living room.

“Yeah, coming.” Flicking the light off, you exit the bathroom and grab for your coat draped over a dining room chair. Chris is ready to go, coat on and shoes tied, keys in hand, you can feel him evaluating your choice of dress. “No need to be in a rush, not like the party is leaning on our shoulders.” You grumble while pulling your hair out from under the coat collar. Chris huffs a laugh, and you know it's directed at how outwardly miserable you are about this event. 

“Careful though, can’t show up late or we might be fired for it.” You want to sigh again at this, but hold back. No need to direct your unfair anger at him.

“Don’t even joke, Chris. You’ll be safe but I will certainly be on the chopping block for that.”

The two of you walk out your front door, Chris levitating behind you while you lock up.

“I’m joking. I’d fight for you even if that did happen.”

You were glad, at the very least, you had Chris by your side this whole night, and, if we’re being real, your whole professional career as well. It was not easy to land the job you did, and you worked damn hard to keep it. Tech was not a field that was ready for female breakthrough yet, but that never stopped you from shoving your foot in that door as it was being slammed shut on your face and forcing it back open. You were determined, strong-willed, and by god, you were stubborn. Everyone in your life knew this, and you took it in stride, but you had to put a mask on at work in front of your mostly male coworkers. Can’t let a woman out of line in your field, who do they think they are?

Upon your first week at the tech firm (you had swallowed your bigger dreams temporarily in order to get experience in the field, settling for web development within the company), you found yourself at a desk next to a large man who looked as if he would be better suited doing security for a bank, or maybe a bodyguard for an A-list celebrity. 

You still consider yourself lucky for who you got to permanently sit next to in the office, as his looks could not have been further from the reflection of his personality. You managed to find the needle in the haystack, a seatmate who was kind, funny, and actually rooted for your success as a woman in a field that was mostly men who wanted to tamp you back down the corporate ladder. He made it a lot more tolerable to deal with most of the men in your workplace, including your division boss.

You made interactions with him as limited as possible, trying to understand your focus as thoroughly as possible the first time around to avoid having to ask him any questions or for clarification, not because it wouldn't be given to you, but because chances are he would be extremely condescending about it before he relented. He sat in his fancy corner office most of the day, and only came out to gloat about another project he has taken on, which, everyone knows by now, means he’s really talking about how his portfolio of owned web brands and sectors he has under his wing. AKA again, that paycheck is getting fatter.

Leon fucking Kennedy. The middle name is never left out when you and Chris chat privately about him.

Leon was the embodiment of ‘alpha’ within the office. It seemed that nearly every other man in your division worshipped him, as if he could tap them on the shoulder and make every one of their wishes come true. It was honestly pathetic, you had to laugh. Many a side eye has been shared between you and Chris on the daily.

To make matters worse, this entire event was for none other than Leon (F.) Kennedy. And while the office wide invitation didn't say it directly, everyone knew it was best to assume that attendance was mandatory.

“Who throws a party for themselves?” You mumbled while facing the car window, pedestrians passing back and forth as you two wove through the city streets. “For their own promotion, nonetheless. Shouldn’t someone else do that?”

“As if anyone in this office would know his tastes enough to throw a sufficient party for him. He’d have no choice but to keep a watchful eye on them.”

You giggled despite yourself, Chris using Leon’s own aggravating phrase against him. He had a horrible habit (you were convinced he was absolutely aware he was doing it) where if someone in the office made even the slightest misstep, Leon would be keeping a ‘watchful eye’ on them to make sure the mistake doesn't happen again.

Since you have become a permanent part of the team, you have seen a few officemates fuck up twice in one ‘watchful eye’ period with nothing but a redirect on their method from Leon, but according to Chris, who had been employed with them for a few years more than you, he regretfully had to say goodbye to one of the only other women who found herself in the same spot. You felt horribly for her, but you were glad you weren’t there–everyone would be feeling your rage had you witnessed it, too.

“Even then, wouldn’t he choose something more exclusive than the restaurant literally below our office? I would think that’s too local for him.”

You saw Chris shrug in your peripheral vision. “I think it’s ‘cause he knows the guy. Notice how last minute he got this thing together? No way a place like this would have been able to accommodate an entire office division, and more.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised.” You felt your slightly lifted mood quickly dropping as your tall office building and resident restaurant below came into sight. The glow of the colored lights in the empty office shone bright throughout the darkening streets, the dim lighting of the restaurant contrasting starkly to the abandoned space above. It looked almost peaceful up there, not a single soul to intrude on your work process or train of thought. Though, more often than not, it was only Chris.

Chris rolled down the tinted window of his sleek Audi and scanned his employee card, rolling down the driveway into the opening underground garage doors. It was a normal sight to see nearly every spot occupied, despite the time of the day. Seeing it almost put you in fight or flight mode, unsure about what the day has in store for you.

Taking a deep breath as Chris parked and killed the engine, you hoisted yourself out of the passenger’s seat. The frigid air of the underground garage pricked at your bare legs, and instinctively, you tugged at your short dress to pull it down closer to your knees.

Standing here now, you felt a bit exposed and overdressed, but seeing your few other women colleagues walk into the restaurant dressed to a similar degree. You knew you would be trying your hardest to stick to them tonight without seeming like the clingy coworker.

The warm air of the restaurant enveloped you and gleeful chatter filled the air from those you saw every day and some you barely see from your secluded office floor. You scanned the room, glad for the lack of the person you were so aptly not celebrating tonight. You held on to this feeling, this relief, knowing you would have to inevitably channel it whenever he made an appearance. This was going to be a long night.

“I’m hitting the bar, you guys want something?” Chris took orders from the small group you two had found for the time being, a cozy enough group to coax you into a false sense of security until the night was over.

You rattled off whatever drink popped into your mind for Chris, and off he went. Your attention was split between making conversation and scanning the room, as if you were a wild animal on edge for predators. 

The restaurant didn’t seem to be in too much of a state for a party. There was a lack of any decor that would set it apart from any other late night dining spot, the only thing that gave it away was the overwhelming amount of people dressed in fancy attire and holding drinks, it seemed no one was sitting or eating anywhere, unless, and you shuddered at this, this was just the mingling hour. Where the hell was Chris with your drink?

A few minutes into the conversation and a return from the drink carriers to the group, a cheer broke out to the right of the restaurant, far from where you were standing. Unable to fight the natural human urge to look towards an audible disturbance, you all turned to see a group crowded to a corner, some drinks raised, others clapping, and out from the center, ready to address the crowd, was none other than the star of the show.

Here’s the awful, vexing thing about someone like Leon Kennedy.

He walks into a room like he owns everything in it. He speaks with his chest out and his head up high and with the confidence of a Greek god. He dresses like he just bought a new timepiece to match whatever color socks he’s wearing that day because he just has play money like that. He’s not afraid to make eye contact, to be the extrovert in any situation, to be a voice of reason when others just can’t come to a conclusion about anything.

And what pisses you off the most about him is that he is undeniably, insanely attractive.

Of course, your life couldn't have been made simple by sticking you in a job that challenges you with coworkers who are all competing for the same goal but it’s all good and fun. No, instead, fate decided to have it so that you would be one of the only women in a space that has been infamously run by men in an office where even the smallest mistakes give you two strikes automatically and on top of your boss being condescending with any piece of advice he tries to give, he needs to be fucking hot on top of it.

Just, ridiculous, truly.

You tried your best to act natural as everyone turned to face the open space in the room for Leon to walk into and start addressing the crowd like he was accepting an academy award, hoping none of your officemates (save for Chris) could tell you were already peeved about this. You took a long swig of your drink.

“Good evening, folks,” Leon raised his glass in a mild toast while flashing a brilliant grin to the crowd. Perfect, straight white teeth. You wouldn't put veneers past him.

You saw Chris give you the side eye from next to you. You bit back a smirk and turned away. Your luck would have it so that you would burst out laughing during this speech.

“Thank you all for gathering here tonight, I understand it was a bit of a last minute call, but I want you to know I cherish all of you for devoting a portion of your time to celebrate the progress of this company and how far we have gotten.” Cue eye roll from you, someone must have told him to make it sound like it was the employees who signed another company's subsidiaries over to him. “As you all know, I recently began harboring a few other domains, and with the help of my division employees, we have been able to keep them all running and up to speed perfectly, as if they were ours the whole time. I want to humbly announce that due to this, and due to the hard work of my office and my management, I was offered a promotion to manage a higher sector of this company, and it is thanks to the folks who put their everything in every day that I was able to achieve that. You guys almost make my job easy. I’ll be spending one last month with my division on our floor before I head upward in the company. Thank you all very much. Keep mingling some more, food will make its rounds, the restaurant is open for everyone’s enjoyment tonight. Have fun out there!”

You couldn’t even will your hands to fake an applause, you felt stunned. You knew what this was for–Leon would be moving up (and out) of the office because of his new portfolio expansion, but to have the audacity to thank the work of other people in the office? You shouldn’t have even come tonight, not like anyone would have noticed you missing.

Chris’ eyebrows went up in surprise when he caught your gaze. You shook your head gently. If you had driven, you would be out of here in no time. Chris, unfortunately, was a better person than you, and probably more liked. You were stuck here as long as he was, better make the best of it.

You had long abandoned your coat to the coat check and with your clutch in tow, you headed for the bar to booze up once more. Your drink somehow magically disappeared during Leon’s speech.

Finding an empty section of the bar, you leaned over to shout your drink order over the rising wave of voices coming from behind you. Once the bartender gave you the thumbs up and turned his back, the motion of reaching into your clutch for a bill was stopped short by a hand reaching into your personal space, slapping a bill down in place of yours. 

The sudden motion caused you to jump slightly, not knowing anyone was standing by. The hand slowly pulled back from the counter, obviously waiting for you to turn, but the glisten of the pearlescent watch face catching the overhead lights and a sleeve rolled up to the elbow stopped you in your tracks. 

You knew all too well who was standing behind you, and your guess was affirmed when he leaned against the bar, forcing his way into your peripheral vision.

Leon stood almost a whole foot taller than you on a good day, the distance shortened tonight by the tall heels you deemed suitable for matching your dress. The hair he wears either falling onto his forehead or pushed up above it was styled like the latter, a few rogue strands hanging off to the sides, framing his angular face almost perfectly, the light in the restaurant only doing him favors, showing off his hard, chiseled cheekbones and jawline. His face was almost devoid of emotion, just staring down at you, waiting for you to do something first. Being more confused than anything, you stood there in silence, turning the cards over to him instead.

He finally cracked a grin. “Enjoying yourself?”

Though you felt the overwhelming urge to insult him to his face, your voice was brought to a hard stop within you from one infuriating, bristling thought. Yes, he aggravated you, he rubbed you the wrong way, he was conceited and airheaded at times, but he was your boss. You unfortunately, had no choice in how you could react.

You slowly lowered your clutch back down off the bar surface. “Yes, of course.” You forced a smile. You felt your work brain take over, putting you in a sudden state of autopilot, anything to get through the shift.

The smile only stayed glued to his face, eyes unmoving from your own, as if he were calculating his response. The moment was thankfully broken by the reprieve of the bartender coming back with your glass, allowing you a moment away from Leon’s intense gaze.

“Surprised to see you here, honestly.” Your brow started to furrow at this, but you schooled it straight again as you looked back up, slyly taking a sip from your glass as you did so. “Didn’t think you would be the party type.”

What kind of type you were was anything but Leon’s business, and as if he had the accurate information about you to assume this. But, of course, that’s the type of audacity that came with someone like Leon Kennedy.

“How could I not? It’s something to celebrate.” You thanked the alcohol already coursing through your veins for the effort of keeping your voice level, almost shocked the sarcasm didn’t seem to pierce through.

“Certainly.” It would have been nice to receive a ‘thank you’ for being in attendance tonight, considering it was literally about him, but, again. Too much to ask. You were about to slither away, thinking this odd conversation was over, when he spoke again. “I’ll be missing the office space once I move up. Probably my favorite division I’ve overseen in my time here.”

You put back on your fake interested face. “Is that so? We try very hard. We’re all a team.”

It nearly made you shudder to speak that, but it was mostly true, if it was just in the absence of Leon himself. The employees made the division work, not whatever he was doing.

He nodded slowly at this. “Very true. That’s precisely why.” You heard someone across the room shout his name, trying to get his attention. He ignored it. “Did you come here alone? Life’s more fun with company.” You hoped it was the alcohol being stronger than you had initially thought, but you swore his eyes flickered down your body for a split second before returning to your face. You fought the urge to squirm.

“Um, no. I came with Chris.” You nodded over to the opposite side of the bar where Chris was still standing with some of your coworkers. Leon slowly turned to face where you gestured, your eyes dropping to the stretching muscle of his neck as he did so. You weren’t sure if you wanted to stab it or bite it.

He turned back to meet your gaze while nodding a bit, as if you had said anything at all. “Redfield, huh?”

You nodded in response. “Yes. We have become pretty good friends since I started here.”

This conversation was way off kilter already, and you could only assume that Leon must be inebriated in one way or another. It made you feel slightly relieved, but only on the notion that you probably wouldn’t get fired for not speaking professionally.

“I see. Then I won’t hold you up much longer. Good to see you here.” He hoisted himself up off the bar, and you were reminded that your heels weren’t that tall, after all. 

“Thanks. Enjoy your party.” Why beat around the bush anymore? He knows it’s for him, no point in avoiding it. He organized the party for fucks sake.

He stood straight, somehow seeming even taller in that moment than before. “Absolutely. The night’s only getting started.” He was swift to depart, but not before throwing a wink at you, the grin never melting off his face.

You felt a warm sensation pooling down your spine, unsure how to process what just happened. It was more attention from Leon than you had gotten since being in the office, except for those moments you were forced to speak with him about some project parameters. You tried hard to think, had he ever acted like this before? Not that you could remember, and you chalked it up to being the alcohol, or something stronger.

Sure, he had a piercing gaze, but that must just be a quality of his. It was never something you attributed to anything other than his seriousness, or rather, his irksome personality. He never seemed to linger by you in the office, and you felt like you rarely saw him at all. But the few times you did… he just left an unfavorable impression. 

(Besides the obvious physical traits, which, try as you might to ignore, but doesn’t everyone still have the lingering attraction to the blatant red flag men from their college days where not even a bad personality could keep them away? You were very guilty.)

You absentmindedly wove your way through the crowd back to Chris and the others, trying to process the interaction that just took place. Why the sudden interest in you? If there was any interest at all, he could have tried harder to not come across as a total dickhead in the office space, especially one that only favors his male employees and tries to be as difficult as possible when you ask him for the simplest things. Fuck this stupid party, you should have stayed home.

“The hell was that about?” Chris threw the question at you once you reclaimed your spot. You just shook your head.

“I have no idea. It was weird. Clearly he was pregaming something before this event.” You sighed, pulling your focus back to the group.

One of the other women in the office turned to you, a mischievous grin on her face. “If that’s the case, I wouldn’t be surprised if he finally opened his eyes to notice you tonight. Look at you, girl!”

You breathed a quick laugh before following her directions and reappraising the way you were dressed. It was quickly thrown together in your closet merely two hours before the function, with you claiming you didn’t want to try that hard for an event no one probably even cares if you showed up to. Admittedly, the tight cocktail dress was probably a bit too casual for this establishment, you having worn it once or twice over the summer on the main streets where the bars for college kids are. But again, it was as nice as you were willing to get for a man like Leon. 

You tugged on the hem of your dress, pulling it down to just below the midway point on your thighs. 

You shrugged. “It was all I had,” A lie, and they probably knew it. “Plus, who am I impressing here? You think I want someone with a personality the likes of which we work with? Insane.”

That elicited a giggle from the group, the focus thankfully dropped from you.

But, was what she said true? Was it in fact the way you were dressed that got Leon’s attention? Of course, he never would have seen you like this before. It was insanely out of dress code, and your go-to style for the office was comfortable business casual. Almost none of your work attire was fitted as well as the dress was. If it was indeed how you looked tonight, then you supposed it made sense for the type of man Leon was, or came off as if he was truly anything different (which you doubted). Only going after what he sees, and deciding if it makes him feel good or not.

You pushed it to the back of your mind. Thinking about it was only going to ruin your night more, and the chatter amongst your work friends was enough to extinguish the negative energy for now. You trudged on.

The night bore into the end of cocktail hour and introduced the main course and sides, but you chose to linger, not having a huge appetite this night. You took a seat with the same bunch and chatted away while some of them ate, others picked, and the rest drank. Leon had made a quick appearance once or twice again, never throwing another gaze your way, but you certainly noticed others paying that kind of attention to you.

Multiple trips either to the bar or wandering to say hi to the few others you liked from the office bought you some eyes on your body, and you weren't even sure if you knew them all or not.

Mostly, you weren't surprised by this. You had grown accustomed to a lingering gaze from men who won’t approach you because of how you were dressed, so while it wasn't all too foreign, you can’t lie and say you felt no shock at all when it was happening at a supposed corporate event for your own job. You knew some of these men, for Christ’s sake.

But then again, you knew the field you chose to pursue. It’s not your fault, but you should have expected it.

By the time midnight crept in and passed quietly there was still a decent amount of people filling the restaurant's main area, mostly lingering around the bar now or leaning on other’s tables just to chat. You wanted to go home, but mostly, you wanted to be nowhere near anyone else right now.

“You seem very bored and over it.” Chris chanted from your side. You deadpanned as a response, only causing him to laugh. “Same, kinda. We can go. I just need to run up to the office quickly, I forgot my passkey drive at my desk.”

You jumped to action. “I volunteer. I need to get away from everyone for a minute.”

He shook his head with a laugh and handed over his badge, leaving your clutch with him in replacement.

“I’ll be back. No promises I won't be up there for an hour enjoying the peace and quiet. Which is already rare for the office.” You ducked away from the group quickly, finding your way to the side exit of the restaurant that was connected to a small lobby where three keycode elevators waited. 

It was surprisingly empty in here; there was no desk for any doorman to be sitting at, but the doors to enter this small space from the street were also barred from entrance without a badge. Surely the overflow from the restaurant should have been filling up in here for moments of solace, which you understood, but it stood barren right now, only the muffled chatter from the restaurant falling away at your back and the clack of your heels on the tile filling the chamber. 

You held Chris’ badge up to the reader, and with a quiet buzz, the elevator was summoned. The gold doors swung open, and you stepped inside, hitting the 4 button for your office floor.

Instantly, the silence that encapsulated the enclosed space was relieving, the pressure of performance, or even just decency, washing away, giving way to temporary relaxation and repose. The motion of the elevator itself nearly put you to sleep.

You dragged yourself up and into the dark lobby of your office space once the floor was reached. It was so odd, you suddenly realize, to hear absolutely nothing in this space and not be up there with a single other soul. Usually you could hear multiple voices, music, notification sounds, or even game soundtracks reverberating throughout all the way from the entrance, but it was dead quiet.

There was the occasional car horn from down below, but it was all so far away it couldn’t have even been a bother to you. Your footsteps were dampened by the carpet as you walked into the open space, the tall windows shedding a view of the city’s nightlife. The office had kept its LEDs on, the gently circulating spectrum of colors being reflected in the glass. 

The space was quite modern, and if you had to pick a favorite thing about the office, it was that there was no shortage of natural light. It was an open floor plan, everyone’s desks being lined up in rows off to one side of the space, the other giving way to a lounge of sorts, and large whiteboards with miscellaneous web design plans and ideas scrawled across them in messy, black marker.

Beyond the wall where the lounge seats were strewn about was Leon’s office. He had a corner space, a 90 degree view of the city from where he worked, and he somehow got lucky enough to where the only bright sunshine through his windows were in the morning, no direct sunlight at any other times to reflect off of his computer screen and temporarily blind him to his work. 

Figures. He would manage to get the best light and views of the whole office.

You strode over to where yours and Chris’ desks were located, opening the side drawer of his and pulling out his tiny passkey flashdrive for at home work. You’ll give him his flowers where he deserves them–he puts in a lot of effort for what he does, and he’s damn good at it.

You spent another moment casting a longing gaze out the window, really soaking in the peace of your surroundings, swaying lightly as you felt the effects of a couple drinks overtake you. It was quite unfortunate that your job brought you more stress than happiness most of the time, but it would be completely intolerable if the office wasn’t constructed the way it was, and if you didn’t have any other coworkers you enjoyed talking to to fill the space on most days.

A creeping sensation up your spine broke the reverie. You had your whole back to the office, staring out the window watching cars go by, listening to the fading sounds of noises on the street, but you felt something. You were sensing another person.

You turned around suddenly and gasped out, “Holy shit,” when you registered a form standing slack against the doorframe to the big room. You held your tongue back even more, and wished you could have taken your curse back, when you noticed it was not Chris coming to follow you, or another coworker, but rather, it was Leon.

Again, your workbrain took over in this dire moment. “Oh, sorry, I… I came up here for Chris. He forgot his drive. We were just leaving.” You held up the drive, as if it meant anything to him.

To your knowledge, there were no rules about being in the office after hours. You knew a few people liked to stay well after contract hours, yourself absolutely not being one of them, but if you had badge access, there was nothing stopping you. With everyone downstairs, surely some must wander up to their work floor. 

“You’re going home with Redfield?”

You almost physically recoiled at this question. Whether or not you were going anywhere with Chris was none of his business, and though the thought wasn't exactly repulsive, you had no plans to do so now or in the future. You already knew the basic rule to thriving in a workplace: you don’t fuck your coworkers.

“What? No, he just offered to drive so I carpooled with him.” You let that statement hang in the air for a second, continuing despite yourself. “He’s my deskmate. We work together… no.”

He hummed quietly at this, taking you in from a distance. You silently cursed at yourself for not being able to properly see him, but you were not about to step closer.

“I wouldn't have guessed.”

You could only stare at him after this, you had no idea what was prompting this conversation, or frankly, how he even got up there without you hearing. Was he already up here in his office? You didn’t hear his door open or shut. You didn’t hear the elevator, or the loud slam of the staircase door. Maybe you were too lost in your own world to register anything, no matter how cutting it would have been in the silence.

You suddenly shook your head as if to physically clear all thoughts from it. You were not about to have this conversation with your boss.

“I’m going now. Sorry if I’m breaking any rules by being up here this late. Not for no reason, though…” You lamely held up the drive one more time, and began to walk forward, but Leon changed course. He flopped over to the other side of the doorframe now, as if to block your path that would have gone right around him.

He said nothing, but your confusion was mounting and you saw no feasible way out of this.

“I-I’m sorry, is something wrong?” At no other remark from him again, you utilized the liquid courage within you to keep going. “I don’t understand why you’re being…” It was enough courage to squeeze those words past your lips, but not quite enough to finish the sentence. Why you’re being so weird, so odd, so interested.

“Nothing at all.” He slowly straightened his body, no longer leaning on the frame to support himself, standing at his full height now. He took a step closer to you, and another. He came into the dim light, streetlights casting one shadow and the LEDs painting another picture. You took a brief moment to study this tableau: sleeves still rolled up to his elbows, dress shirt contouring his body in frustratingly perfect ways, top two buttons undone, exposing the smooth, defined clavicle underneath. Hair still falling into his face, but somehow, he makes it all look put together. It was infuriating.

“Then why…” You were honestly struggling to find the right words for the situation. Between being confused as hell by the events that were happening and, admittedly, feeling a bit flustered from the heat of his stare, your brain was in shambles. You wanted the freedom to just say what you wanted without being at risk of getting fired. That whole thing was still up in the air, too.

Fuck it. If he was going to start this stupid game, then you were going to play.

“Why are you being like this? You’re my boss. I don’t understand why normally you barely spend any time interacting with any of us and think that you’re on everyone’s good side when we aren’t working. Especially me.”

You almost couldn't get that one out, the rationality still left in you wanting to fight it back down, fearing he could do the worst to your employment status. But the other side of you… it felt incredible to say that to his face.

“Forget about that. I’m not your boss right now. We’re off the clock. I just wanted to talk to you. I don’t get to do that normally.” His voice was unlike what you have heard from him before. It wasn’t usually this pitched down, this deep, this raspy. You swallowed.

You scoffed softly. “We’re salary, there’s no such thing as off the clock. If you wanted to talk to me so bad maybe you could be more approachable at work.”

Fuck, you were so getting fired for this. Maybe Chris would be able to back you up if you fought it.

“More approachable.” He echoed. You just stared. “I would have way too many people to deal with, then.”

Shaking your head again in disbelief, you muttered: “So what now? Can I go back down? You talked to me. There. I’d rather not get fired tonight.”

You went to make a move to duck around the other side of him, but he pulled a move again to block your exit once more. You looked up at him in what felt like desperation.

“You’re not getting fired. Just say what you want. I’ll never know what you want to say to me if you keep talking like you’re afraid of me.”

You sighed helplessly. “But, why?! What do you want from me? And why tonight? If you had been nicer to me maybe I would be more receptive to this.” 

At this, his face slowly spread into a wicked grin. Somehow, the shadows on his face deepened even more as he lowered himself closer to your height, never breaking eye contact.

In a voice somehow even deeper than he was speaking before: “Playing nice isn’t fun for me. I like it when you fight back.”

You stared, stunned, and against any better judgement you may have had in this moment, your instincts gave way. You felt a familiar knot in your stomach, and your knees started to shake. No, fuck, this was not happening right now. Not in a million years.

In a voice shakier than you would have preferred, you breathed out, “So, that’s it? You want me up here to… what? Play out some fantasy you have with your employees?”

He barked a laugh, making you flinch. “Please. You think I try this on the daily with just anyone?” You were about to retort, but he read it on your face and jumped to it. “Maybe it’s just you I want. Maybe I know only you will give me what I so desire. Or… ‘fantasize’, to put it your way.”

Your throat suddenly felt thick when you tried to swallow again, your rational voice was still there, just barely, but it was quickly drowning.

“Maybe you would have had me if you weren't my superior and such a dick.”

He sighed, but a smile was still on his face. “Fuck that, I’m no one to you right now. Drop that act. And you heard what I just said. I don’t fuck with the roleplay, I want the real thing. I want you mad at me. I want you to hate me. It just helps that that’s how I am with everyone else, too.”

You were at a loss for words. Leon Kennedy, your division boss, whose party you were attending at this very moment, had you cornered in your own office after hours telling you that, in layman's terms, he gets off on you hating him. What the fuck?

Your rational voice gave one last, mighty try. “You’re going to hold this over my head. Just so I will… what, perform better at work?”

All it took was one long stride and Leon was right in front of you, basically in your face now, his villainous smile long gone. “Enough. You’re not getting fired. No one’s going to know. Are you in or not? ‘Cause I’ll let you go if I have to, but you gotta walk out right now. Don’t waste your time trying to say any more bullshit about the job, that’s not going to translate as a no anymore.”

You said nothing at first, just stared back into his eyes as you mulled this over. Did you hate Leon? Yes, you were sure of it. But, that’s what he wanted. Were you attracted to Leon? Unfortunately so. He probably knew this as well by what a weak fight you put up. Did you want to fuck Leon? Well, the voice of rationality had long died off now and was nowhere to be heard. Yes, yes you did.

“Then tell me what you want from me.” You whispered, his face still mere inches from yours.

He quirked an eyebrow, another sinful grin etching his features, the deep, colorful hues of the LEDs bathing his face in painted light; an image you will never be able to erase from your brain.

“Say what you want to me. Seriously. If you hate me, then tell me.”

You took a deep breath, needing to find the right area of your mind for this. The alcohol had you swimming, but you were positive that tingle you felt in your fingertips wasn’t anything but thrill.

“I shouldn’t have come tonight. You aren’t worth celebrating. You don’t deserve me.”

Trying as hard as you could to make yourself sound strong, his reaction to your words only fueled you to deliver more. He exhaled hard, eyelids fluttering in what looked like a soft flinch, but he held steady to your gaze. He didn’t speak. 

“I saw how you looked at me earlier at the bar. I don’t know what fucking right you have to do that to me, not even when you barely cast a glance in my direction normally. Fuck you.”

In a move you never thought you would see Leon of all people doing, he dropped to his knees in front of you, one hand reaching out to brace himself on the doorframe.

“Come on, I had to see what everyone else was looking at. You think I couldn’t tell how everyone was looking at you.” At this, he let his gaze rake over your body, taking his time drinking in your silhouette, your bare thighs, dress rapidly rising upwards closer and closer to your hips. “You think I was gonna let them get to you first?”

“You can’t claim me.”

He looked back up, locking eyes with you. “I don’t believe that. I don’t think you believe that, either.” With the free hand that wasn’t bracing himself, he suddenly had a hold of your ankle. Your balance was almost impressive as he slowly lifted it, large hands inching their way up your calf, bending the knee so the bottom of your heel was resting on his shoulder. The way he was looking up at you was so sultry, a look you had never seen a man give you. You were suddenly glad you had enough hindsight to shave your legs for no reason. “But if it’s true, then tell me. Do what you really want.”

You breathed an unamused laugh, not taking your eyes off of his hands making contact. “I would go to prison.”

The smile never melted from his face, your leg still bent in his embrace, one hand steadying your ankle close to his body, the other getting closer and closer to your core, past the knee, around the thigh. You shifted your foot in a moment of balance, the ball of your foot square with his chest. What if you just…

You kicked. Hard.

Leon went flying backwards, skidding for almost a foot across the slick tile floor, you were sure you heard his head make contact. But you didn’t move. You simply watched as his chest rose and fell, breaths heavy as, of all things he could do, he started laughing. He caught his breath once more, twice, and your eyes took in the sight of him, disheveled, shirt wrinkled, and, jesus, an erection beginning to tent in his pants.

Quick as lightning he was back up and back at your feet. You could have sworn he had a full, genuine smile on his face from that. One hand grabbed your thigh and the other found purchase on your hip.

“That’s more like it.” He growled, and with a decent shove, he was tumbling you backwards onto the carpeted floor of the office space. He landed on top of you, hand still gripping your hip, but the other left your thigh to hoist himself up, still aware his weight could have been enough to knock all the wind out of you.

You were sure you involuntarily squealed on the way down, not expecting it, but it was overridden by the adrenaline you still felt after delivering a kick to his chest, which he clearly liked.

Leon pressed his body against yours, now a true testament to the fact his dick was getting even harder with the total contact. You fought the urge to press up into him, instead, you planted your hands on both of his shoulders, and tried to shove him off, putting up the fight he so wanted.

You felt him push back into you at this, completely taking over with barely any effort. He wrangled your wrists swiftly with one hand, securing them both in a grip that almost hurt, but it only added more heat to the moment. 

He slammed your pinned hands down above your head, and though you tried to wriggle your body out from underneath him, it only increased the contact happening between you two. He managed to get you to still for a quick moment, but a quick flash from the corner of your eye caught your attention. Your gaze flicked over at the camera mounted to the wall only for a second, but he whipped his head over, wondering what got your attention instead of him.

He leaned back in next to your ear, lips just barely grazing the tender skin underneath. You angled your head as if to pull away from him, but it only opened you up more.

“I’m the only one with access to the security footage. No one will know.”

You gulped at this, not knowing if you should believe it or not.

At this point, the two of you were already in view, already caught on camera in a very suggestive position that left absolutely nothing for the imagination, but you weren’t interested in filming a sex tape tonight.

Maybe later.

“I don’t trust you with it.”

He maneuvered himself from whispering in your ear to being fully on top of you. Despite his demeanor this whole time, this whole act of wanting to be the target of your disgust and hate and pushing you to blatantly physically abuse him, something flashed in his eyes. Something… real. It was almost eerie to see after how he had been presenting himself tonight.

Wordlessly, he stood up, yanking you by the wrists with him, another yelp escaping from your lips. One you both were on your feet, then he spoke. “Let’s go then.” And in another swift motion that should have taken more effort than it looked like it took him, he wrapped one arm around your thighs and hoisted you over his shoulder.

You gasped, and with your wrists now free you yanked at his shirt, trying to worm your way off of his shoulder.

“What the hell? Put me down!” Your voice, even as soon as it came out, sounded pathetically weak from your position.

“Relax.” The vibration of his chest was felt through your stomach, and you suppressed a shiver. 

You saw from your upside down view his foot kick a door closed behind him, and in three long, rapid strides, you were thrown down onto a soft surface. You should have expected he was going to take you to his office, but it was still disorienting to see, especially dark, and without the fear of being chided for a poor work effort.

“Can’t you sit still for two minutes? Where did you think I was going to bring you?”

You huffed, getting more annoyed at his nonchalant expression as he stood above you, probably amused by how disarrayed you looked right now. The mere humiliation of the thought had you springing to your feet.

“And what happened to just asking me? I don’t remember allowing you to treat me like a ragdoll.”

“What fun would that be? Why follow the rules?” There was a maddening grin on his face again, and he knew he was being arrogant with it, too. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, as if waiting for you to make a move in his game.

You stood your ground, unmoving. “There clearly weren’t any rules in the first place.”

“Not like you’d follow them if they were there anyways, you’re good at that.”

You quelled the rage you felt boiling up at this. You knew this was a game to him, but for him to take examples from what he clearly thought he saw in real life, especially after he wanted you to drop the pretense about work, what a piece of shit.

“You fucking wish.” You ground out, forcing the anger in you at bay. You were tired of him being in charge. If he wanted you to hate him so bad, then you would turn the tables. “Sit down. I’m tired of looking up at you.”

The smirk never faded as he willingly traded places with you, and you spun, following his motion as he took a seat on his lounge, legs spread, eyes dark. His bottom lip was caught in his teeth for a second as he took you in from below, again, his observation of you like a physical touch down your skin.

He held a hand out, palm up. When you simply stared and did nothing, he nudged your leg with his. You slowly brought your leg back up again, delight on his face showing through at giving him what he was asking for. He held your heel clad foot once more, settling it back on his chest.

“You liked it that much?”

His face was nothing but sensual as he stared at you, and if you could see his pupils clearly you were sure they would be blown. He was in a state of total bliss. You couldn’t believe this is what was doing it for him.

“If I can dish it out like that I gotta be able to take a little beating every now and then.” His fingers gently circled the skin around your ankle, teasing up your calf as if he were going to go further, then dropping back down again, making shivers wrack throughout your body.

You dug your other foot into the carpet and steeled your jaw.

When he felt your foot moving again, he adjusted in his seat, ready for whatever sort of pressure you were about to put on his body, but that wasn’t your plan.

You carefully watched as his eyes went from excited, to discouraged, to surprise, and maybe even fear, as you lifted your foot from his chest, moved it down, and rested it right on the edge of the couch, the ball of your foot sitting snuggly underneath the rising tent in his pants, his hands never leaving contact with your skin.

His hands stilled, and you could hear his breathing pick up. He slowly lifted his stare from where your foot rested against his balls up to your eyes, scared to make any sort of move.

“What’s your plan here?” Try as he might to sound in control of the situation, a thin waver pierced his voice, and you could tell Leon was now at your mercy, and he knew it.

You tilted your head slightly, reveling in this one time opportunity to have this man at your will. It was almost sick how much he was enjoying even this, his dick bouncing even now in his tight pants.

At this point, there was no denying that you were enjoying yourself. Even if you were doing this with someone you had no ill feelings towards, it was made all the more fun knowing the two of you were not willing to hold back any aggression. What Leon has shown you up to this moment, you could only trust as much as his word, and if he wanted this enough to initiate it, enough to show you how he liked to be thrown around and hated, then fuck it, you would give that to him.

You won’t deny yourself a chance to fuck him, even if it’s mostly just a hatefuck. It will get it out of your system.

Instead of answering his question, you gave him an order. “Take your shirt off.”

In the low light of his office, you could tell there were scuff marks on his white shirt from your shoes, but you felt no remorse about that. He had the money for dry cleaning.

His hands left your ankle, and you begrudgingly felt cold in their absence. His eyes never left yours, but you were too busy watching his hands work his buttons, each one tightening the knot in your stomach as more and more of his chest was exposed, the smooth expanse dipping and curving deliciously around every muscle, his abs flexing every time he took a pained breathed in, trying his best not to move his crotch up into your shoe.

He came to a standstill when he was fully exposed and couldn’t lean forward to pull his sleeves off.

Leon looked up at you, and you almost laughed at his expression.

“I can’t take it off. I have to move more.”

It was your turn to smile at him, and your expression alone made his eye twitch.

You shrugged. “Clearly you like pain. Do it.”

You watched as the shadows contoured around his throat when he swallowed nervously, breaking eye contact to look down at your foot, cemented in place, as if weighing his options. 

Slower than a snail, he finally leaned forward, and you felt the pressure shift under your foot as he reached behind himself to grab at his sleeves. His mouth was slightly parted, eyes downcast as he focused, but you were over the care he was taking. 

You pressed your foot into the soft surface, enough to cause discomfort. You watched his face scrunch up, preparing for more, a lewd groan leaking past his lips as you crushed him under your foot. Not enough to do any real damage of course, but it was fun to see his reaction.

He breathed out one more heavy sigh before sliding the shirt past his biceps, down his forearms, and discarded it on the couch beside him. He looked back up at you with a mix of disbelief and lust.

“I told you I had to move to do that. I didn’t lean into you.”

Leon sounded out of breath, and you weren’t even sure why. Must take a lot of energy being this arrogant.

“You looked like you could use a lesson.” You looked back down at your foot and teased again as if you were going to apply pressure. His abdomen tensed at this, every muscle on display. 

“A lesson, huh?” 

“It’s the least you deserve. Trust me.” Another gulp, more staring. “Well?” You taunted, voice strong and clear now. “You’ve got me here. So what do you want with me?”

He blinked up at you a few times, amusement seeping through the cracks of his sexual frustration. “You got me here under you like this and you’re gonna ask that? I should be asking you.”

You shook your head in response, pressing your foot slightly as a result. He tensed.

“You’re not flipping this on me. You started this with me, and I only used what I learned from you to get you like this. Again. I’m here. What do you want with me? Don’t make me go all the way.” More pressure, another groan and flex. “Though I’m sure you’d like that.”

He heaved another sigh, looking anything but exasperated. “I want you to tell me you hate me and fight me off as I'm going down to taste you, to claw at my chest and hurt me while I fuck you, hold my throat in your hands while I bury myself deeper…” He paused, catching his breath, adjusting under your foot as if to press himself into you. “Get you to change your mind about that.”

You didn't hold back your laugh. “I’m not so sure about that. At least I won’t be pretending for most of it.”

As much as his words had you nearly falling to the floor, wanting to give in to the pleasure he was so set on giving you, you weren’t going to let him win so fast without giving yourself something to excite you.

“Take it out. Show me how much you want that.”

He licked his lips, not moving his hands, which was the complete opposite of what you wanted from him. He said nothing and kept staring, almost as if he couldn’t process what you had asked him. 

You tilted your head in question, and gave one final tap to his balls before it finally sent his hands in motion.

Flawlessly, without removing his eyes from your face, he slid his belt buckle open, popped the button, unzipped the fly, all while you were unabashedly staring at him performing. You could have sworn the size grew at the sudden freedom, and you had to fight a smile from your face as he unsheathed himself, his cock standing at full glory, underwear pooled at the base, his veiny hands straining to contain any reaction at the sudden contact.

You kept staring, watching how he lazily stroked from base to tip, pausing at the rosy pink head, the low lights of the city reflecting off the drop of precum that leaked out.

You sighed in relief, finally getting what you want, and you took it all in, once last time, as he was bared out before you, completely at your will.

He was shirtless at your command, he had his dick out and was jerking himself slowly watching you stand above him, you knew he couldn’t be enjoying this more. You almost hated how much more he was about to be enjoying himself, but at least you’d be getting something out of it, too.

You removed your foot from its chokehold, steadying yourself on two feet as he was now at free range. The hand on his dick paused, an eyebrow quirked up in question.

You held your arms out to your sides in a gesture of, ‘what are you waiting for?’

Leon wasted no time in jumping up from the couch and wrangling you to the floor. Your knees gave out instantly, your back feeling the hard carpet as he towered above you, his body shielding any remaining light from the outside world. You used your forearm to block him getting closer, your leg coming up in an attempt to kick him away by the hip, but it wasn’t enough.

He easily disarmed your attempt at a block by reaching under and shoving you aside, pushing your leg off and pinning it underneath his own knee. Now, one leg was spread open while the other was pinned underneath, and he was close to getting both wrists pinned above your head again.

You tried to twist your body away, going in the opposite direction of where he had one wrist captured, trying to free the leg stuck under his, but the twist was an easy in for him to grab you by the waist, lifting himself for just long enough to pin you back to the floor, this time on your stomach.

You were basically defenseless in this position. You felt his hands clawing up your thighs and hips and you tried to keep kicking away, but strong hands had a vise around your ankles once again, and you had nothing left to fight with.

A strong, flat bone, that you guessed was his shin, pinned down one of your calves while both of his hands gripped your hips and pulled them upward.

Ass in the air and legs unable to kick back, you knew he had won this time.

The hem of your dress was ripped up, cold air filling in the space where the fabric was, anticipating the removal of your underwear following it, which it promptly did.

Leon lifted his shin from your calf and repositioned his hands to your hips. When you kicked out your leg again, it wasn't to fight him off; it was in response to the feeling of his tongue pressed against your core, already moistened from the drawn out foreplay you had forced him into.

You clawed helplessly at the carpet, trying to steady yourself as he dug his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips and thighs, pulling you closer onto his face. His tongue drew circles around your clit, making your limbs react unconsciously in response. His breath was heavy, his moves were needly, and you were only frustrated at the fact you couldn't turn and watch it happen.

It was maddening how good Leon was with his tongue. It traced paths around where you needed it most, teasing you to the point of exasperation, then suddenly ramming it into you making you cry out, glad now that no one was around.

You craned your neck down as best you could, merely seeing Leon’s hand work you like dough and the way your leg was splayed out next to him. The rough carpet was scratching up your face, but each movement Leon made with his tongue delivered enough pleasure to relieve you of the pain.

A rush of cold air suddenly made you gasp, aware now that he had pulled his face away from between your legs. You tried your best to see where he had gone, but a sharp slap to your ass and the intrusion of two of his fingers into your aching pussy had you distracted once more. He was wasting no time, not bothering to slow down his pace for any of your comfort–this was about him. You cried out again, the sound drawing out to a mewl, gasps coming one after another with the way he worked himself inside of you. His other arm wrapped around one of your thighs, hand coming back into contact with your body and pressing into your clit, and you were sure you were not going to be able to hold yourself up any longer. You wanted to collapse into the pleasure, but your neck was now aching from this miserable position he had you in.

Another sharp sensation to your asscheek had you sucking in air, wondering where it came from if both of his hands were working you. You realized, suddenly, the motherfucker had bitten you. Now he’s done it.

You were done with this position, as good as it felt, and you started kicking your legs out at him again. You shoved one of your arms underneath you to push yourself off the floor just as your foot made contact with something. You weren’t sure exactly what it was you had hit, but judging by the groan that came after and the slow removal of fingers from your body, it was probably Leon.

He sighed and his hands roughly grabbed you once more. One on your arm and one on your leg and he had you flipped over on your back once more, Leon above, a familiar scene.

“What? Is this any better?” He asked in almost a mocking tone, fully aware how uncomfortable you must have been.

“How about you go face first into this fucking carpet? See how you like it.” Before you even had another chance to fight him off, he had your wrists.

“As if you could get me in that position in the first place.” 

Cue more struggling against his hard, rigid body for your freedom. You managed to get your knee out far enough from under him to deliver it swiftly into his ribcage, earning a groan and slight release to the pressure on your wrists. You freed one, but he captured your leg in the tradeoff.

His face was hovering just above your neck now, the hand that wasn't positioned over your head effortlessly holding your offending knee back down.

“Enough with the fucking legs,” He breathed, and the warmth that spread across your skin from his breath had you tilting your head in the other direction to grant further access. 

“Don’t tell me ‘enough’ when this is what you asked for.” Very much so out of breath, you still tried to verbally spar with him, not letting him earn the easy victory over you simply because he had you bent over and eating you out. 

You felt a smile spread across his face from where he was, still buried in your neck, lips barely making contact. “Then you better fight like hell.”

At the same moment, Leon opened his mouth and attached it to your neck, nipping at the skin enough to irritate you. He pressed his body harder on top of yours, and you felt the nudge of the tip of his dick trying to push its way in.

Moving the upper half of your body brought his face closer, and moving the lower half brought his dick closer. He knew he had you at a stalemate, where any sudden movement would only cause more contact. 

Keeping your legs still (for once), you used your free arm and wedged it in between you two, using all your strength to force it up Leon’s chest and onto his throat, wrapping your hand around it as far as it would go, applying enough pressure to get him to release you.

Leon let go of your neck, leaning far back enough to be able to see your face. You kept your hand firm in place, bitterly enjoying the look he was giving you.

His breathing was heavy and you felt every drag of air on your palm. Both of your bodies were still, but the head of his dick was still very much present. He tested the waters, clearly wanting to push your buttons, and you felt yourself open up for him. You whimpered, grinding your jaw shut, and trying to keep him out.

“You gave in awfully easily.”

His throat rumbled in your hand, but you held still.

“It’s not easy when there is a clear strength disadvantage.” As if to prove your point, he pressed again, creeping in a little further.

“Good. I don’t like when it's easy.”

Faster than you could process any movement change, he was off of you one more time and dragged you up by the arms again. You were almost dizzy with how quickly he had you on your feet, but you had little time to readjust to standing as he turned you over to his desk, which had apparently been close by, and bent you over it, one hand again holding your wrists captive behind you and one tangled in the base of your hair, lifting your head.

You sent out a weak kick that connected with nothing. 

“I thought you didn’t want it easy. This is as easy as it could get for you.” You grunted out, the cold, hard desk sending a wave of chills through your body. “At least turn me around if you want a fight.”

There was no movement for a second as he seemed to consider this. He pulled you up by your wrists and his other hand was dropped from your hair. He spun you around so that you were seated on the very edge of the desk, and he was now staring you down from above. You were sure you were a mess, hair everywhere and dress up to your waist but you couldn’t care less, he wasn't any better; cock out and rock hard, shirt gone and pants falling down to his thighs. You looked up, breathing hard.

“Better. Didn’t think of you to be so cowardly to take the easiest approach.”

Insulting him hit just where you wanted it to, and he pulled you back by a hand weaving back into your hair, though your wrists were free now. He had already wedged his way in between your thighs, so kicking was impractical now. His dick was sitting right atop your pubic bone, and you had yourself braced with one arm on the desk and one arm gripping his bicep. It would kill you to admit out loud, but fuck, it was solid.

“Coming after me as if it’s going to make you feel better.” He smiled in your face, but at this point, it was anything but threatening. “You better just give in now, I know you’re fighting it.”

You laughed back at him, unable to use any limb to do good physical damage. “I know you want someone to like you so bad, but it’s not me, and it’s not right now.” Blank stare, low growl. “But you were right about one thing.” Leon quirked his brow, barely, but you saw it. “You’ll be coming first.”

The smile morphed into a scowl as he pulled your head back even more, facing your gaze up to the ceiling as he positioned himself right at your entrance again. He showed little mercy as he pushed forward, his dick slipping easily into your wet pussy thanks to his tongue working you open and how badly you were anticipating this moment. You couldn’t fight back the moan that escaped your throat, his length filling you all the way, pushing you to the brink already.

Once he bottomed out inside of you, he brought himself closer, the grip in your hair making you unable to wrench away from him. Every breath he took sounded like a growl deep in his throat and it contrasted with every sharp inhale coming from you as he thrust into you. Your fingernails dug sharp slits into his bicep as you squeezed it hard, both to steady yourself and to try and hurt him how you knew he wanted.

Your other hand, previously bracing yourself on the desk’s surface, now rested on Leon’s chest, pushing against him in an act to steady yourself and to make a weak attempt to push him off you.

You knew at this point there was truly no fighting back. Your arms, or arm, was no match to the strength of Leon’s whole body, especially not in the flow state he was in of pumping in and out of you, with both the feeling of your tightening walls around his cock and the effort you were putting in to try and counter his movements aiding to the bliss he was surely experiencing.

You dragged your hand from his chest once again up to his neck, feeling the way every muscle underneath his skin rippled and flexed, settling your fingers around his throat, applying pressure in your fingertips, feeling the vibrations of the groan this elicited.

He looked up at you, forcing you to look back with the hand still buried in your hair. There was a mixture of lust and rage and devotion in his eyes, you weren't sure which one to trust, which one was the front he was putting on, and which one was the real Leon. Quite frankly, after this, you weren’t sure you wanted to know the answer to any of those.

You tightened your hand around his throat as much as you could, and if his eyes could get any darker at this moment, you were sure they did. Your foreheads were nearly pressed together, the sensation of the tugging on the back of your hair gone numb, the rhythmic pounding into you feeling like heaven from a man that deserves hell. 

His breaths were heavy and ragged. “Do it like you mean it.” He groaned out, intense gaze never softening. “Do it.”

With a string of gasps from how deep Leon was hitting with each thrust, you unsteadily detached the other hand from his bicep and latched it on with the other, both hands gripping his throat. You squeezed, and with every grunt of pleasure Leon gave you in response, you squeezed harder.

You willed as much strength as you could to give this man what he was asking for–to be choked out–and every breath he took you could tell it was bringing him right to the edge. Again, you hated to admit it, but the look of pure pleasure on his face from your hands around his throat was only bringing you closer as well.

He put a hand on your hip, gripping hard enough to bruise, holding you in place so he could push himself in as deep as he would go inside of you, and you opened your mouth in a quiet scream of pleasure. He was struggling to breathe steadily now, and each of the few thrusts that came after were unsynchronized, stuttering, overstimulating.

Leon groaned out loud once, followed by a series of broken breaths as he pulled himself out of you, gripped his dick in his hand and followed through on his orgasm, blasting all over your thigh, dripping down onto the fine hardwood of his desk. 

You felt a gaping emptiness now, clenching around nothing as you were so close, yet unrelieved. You could tell, though, that not even the nirvana of orgasm was enough to make Leon a nice person.

He released your hair and repositioned his hand on your thigh, pulling it open enough to expose the dripping mess of cum he made all over you and his working surface. You let go of his throat, losing balance and shoving both hands behind you to steady you as he pulled your legs open, wiping them dry with tissues you didn’t see him grab. At least he had the decency to not send you back downstairs still covered in his seed.

He backed away, yet you made no move yet to tidy yourself up and leave his space. He stared at you.

“I wasn’t lying.”

He turned, picking up his shirt and tossing the tissues in the trash. You finally stood, pulling your dress down (feeling sticky), and finger combing your hair. You turned away from him.

“About?”

You didn’t want to make small talk with Leon, especially not after he fucked you crazy but didn’t make you finish. Not that you had never seen that before, though. 

“You’re not getting fired. No one will know. I’m not that much of an asshole.”

You laughed, despite yourself. You believed it.

“What a relief.” You finally turned back to him, mid-buttoning his shirt. His pants were redone already. You definitely looked like you had been doing exactly this. “Don’t pop a boner then when I try to fight back on some stupid project guidelines you try to dump on me. Now that I know you can take it.”

He shook his head at you, but no malice was behind it. You headed toward the door, Leon was staying behind his desk.

“Don’t worry about that for much longer. One more month being the head of this division and I’m moving up. You’ll hate me even more when you see how much better I’m doing after that.”

You paused, giving a slow, dramatic turn back to him one last time. Your hand was on the handle, ready to get out of here for once and for all.

“You think I’ll still want you after that?”

Even in his dark silhouette, you couldn't deny you saw the shape of a smile once again light his features.

“I know you will.”

To that, you simply turned, opened the door, and shut him back in his own office. You were greeted by the splayed contents of your inventory before he dragged you in there: Chris’ badge and Chris’ passkey drive. Shit.

The office door swung open once more. You turned, and Leon looked down at the items on the floor. “Guess you better get down there. Don’t want to leave them waiting.” And with his signature cockiness, he winked and closed the door again.

The rabbit was still warm when it showed up at your front door.

It was an odd hour for someone to be out hunting, but with the sun getting ready to enter a state of near dormancy for four months, you took it as a sign that someone was trying to keep your small population fed for the winter.

Bringing the crate with a small, bloodstained bundle into your home, you pondered about who had left this here for you. You were fairly certain that your neighbors were all still home, either that or they were only just now helping dock the ship that arrived with grain. They had been known to occasionally leave you with an animal, but it was usually in the early hours, and the wind chill would lower the carcass’s temperature significantly before you could rouse and bring it in. 

Nonetheless, you didn’t strain yourself over it, as acts of kindness regarding food supply were warmly welcomed before the darkness settled in.

This winter was much like the ones you had seen before–adults of the town strapping down their own food supply, whether that be buried in the ground or in an underground cellar if their cabin was big enough, the children running around only during peak hours when the air was just warm enough that the wind wouldn’t sting when it hit you, and carriages full of leaking meat ready to be skinned and fileted arrived, preparing to be stored with whatever else could last through the winter.

This was routine now, and a small gift like a warm rabbit to eat for the night was one you would not turn down any time soon.

You looked over the animal; the fur was clean, the kill was neat, and it didn’t look harmed. Job well done. You hoped it didn’t suffer for long. As a token of thanks for it, you would save the pelt for a cowl.

You had a decent sized storage for food this winter, you were only feeding yourself and you could survive off of the grains and winter vegetables that were available for as long as you could. Saving the rabbit would be nice, but you knew the winter market would be held shortly, and that is when you did your stockpile. This one would be tonight’s treat.

Leaving the creature on the counter, you whisked yourself over to the front door, sliding your arms into a big woolen coat, your feet into boots, and shoved your hands into your pockets to make the quick walk across the square to your acquaintance’s home. Hissing when the cold made your eyes water, you latched the door shut and raised your shoulders, bringing the collar of the coat up to protect your neck. Such a quick walk made the full winter apparel unnecessary, though at times you do wish it wasn’t so painstaking to put on. The walk would be much better if you weren’t contorted to stay warm.

The sound of the gravel under your feet mixed with the children yelling at one another as they ran around, dodging and weaving wagons and carriages coming into the square. You almost shouted a warning to them, fearing they would get hurt by the large wheels or the horses’ hooves, but selfishly enough, you were too cold to make any extra effort. You knew the other women of the commune were smart enough to do it themselves, you just liked going the extra mile to help neighbors.

The house you were seeking arrived at once. Quickening your pace, you jogged up the jagged walkway of stone and rapt on the door four times. You heard the sound of thundering steps on wood floors within, and the door opened instantly and you walked inside without waiting for verbal permission.

This was your closest ally's house; neither of you were to need permission to enter under any circumstance, though knowing her family was home, you had the kindness to knock anyway. Being a solo woman of the town meant you spent the majority of your time helping her and her family, as you were well off enough with supplies to keep yourself alive. Today was no different, and with her husband out in the woods lowering the population of multiple woodland inhabitants for the winter market, she could use the extra person to run the home for the night.

You shed your coat and propped it up by the door, quickly unlacing your boots and doing the same to them. You followed her wordlessly to the kitchen, not needing instruction.

“I’m worried,” She then said timidly, and you had to turn around from your position at the chopping block to be sure you heard her correctly.

“Worried, did you say? What for? You know he’s out there doing just fine, every market always keeps you all well fed, warm, and whatnot. Is it the children? Have they become interested in wanting to go?” 

You recall her confiding in you that she was anxious of the day her children were old enough to want to follow their father into the woods to join the group of their annual winter gathering. She knew her husband would teach them right, and you had no doubt they were being raised as well mannered children, eventually able to handle firearms for this purpose, but naturally, her mother's instinct would kick in.

“No, not quite…” She paused a moment, opening the floor hatch and pulling up their storage box with chilled greens for supper. You walked over and took a cabbage, placing it back on your board. The cold made your fingertips ache. “I believe this won’t be a great season. He’s told me there’s oddly less game this year than the previous few.”

You furrowed your brow at this. “Well, I suppose it can’t be great every season, no? You know how much you need now, and his catch will be able to provide you with that and more.”

She sighed. “Yes, but… they are growing now. It takes more to feed them. The cold feels like it lasts a lot longer than it used to.” She began chopping, her knife making rhythmic knocks against the wooden slab. You cut your own cabbage in half, leaving it open by the stove to thaw the center.

“I think you’ll be alright. You have the support when you need it, I always have the extra to spare for you.” You looked over at her earnestly, and before she could reply, you both hushed as the door swung open. Seeing it was just one of her three children, she ushered him off into the main room to warm up, not before chastising him about being outside with barely enough on. She shook her head as she walked back into the kitchen.

“They don’t ever listen about their heavy coats. I can’t make them learn.” She sighed again and looked back over at you. “And don’t be ridiculous, please. You need your food.”

You breathed a small laugh. “I’m well off enough to keep myself going with what I have. One small deer is a month of meals for me, you know that. Let me go back to my house, I have a fresh rabbit, we will eat it tonight. I’d rather share it.”

She turned her head sharply, but not out of scorn. “Fresh? From who? No one has come back yet. You certainly didn’t go out.” You laughed again at this, knowing she meant no insult by it.

“I really don’t know. It wasn’t there this morning when I went to the well. I don’t even remember what I was doing in between this time, I had nothing to prepare, I was waiting for the men to come back with meat. I opened my door for something, I don’t even remember what, I just did. And it was there, in a crate.”

She halted her chopping, staring off, pondering. “You didn’t miss it this morning? You know there’s those few that get the dawn’s catch.”

You shook your head, peeling back layers of cabbage that were thawed enough now, pausing to warm your fingertips in the pockets of your apron, loaned by your friend. “Couldn’t have missed it… didn’t see a single soul walk by my window all morning.”

Silence fell between the two of you, and you knew she was also wondering where this could have come from, knowing every man that hunted in the village was not to return until almost sundown with their catches. After a while, she just shrugged.

You nodded your head in agreement. “Meat is meat. Here, let me go get it, I’ve just been letting it sit. This needs to thaw more anyways.” You abandoned your station and walked over to the door, re-suiting up for the walk back. You heard her footsteps behind you. “Would you like the children in? I know they should be all coming back soon, the last thing they would need right now is children becoming more stones under the horses hooves.”

She hummed from behind you. “Yes, that would be great, they should have been back an hour ago now.” 

Having fastened the last button on your coat, you swung the door open. The sky was quickly descending to a deeper shade of gray, indicating the sun was setting against a clear sky the town has not seen in months now. You were about to turn and give her another verbal confirmation of finding her remaining two children when a loud cry from the square stopped you. You turned, and you felt your friend step out to watch as well, unable to ignore the sudden break of the square’s silence.

“I… I’ll go see what’s going on, stay here.” You took a step down and crunched the earth under your boot.

“Nonsense.” She turned to grab her own coat off the hanger, and she shouted inside at her one child home to stay put and not to move. You both hurriedly walked further into the commotion, the other townsfolk creating a barrier around the one who shouted. A break in the human wall opened up, and you were on the outer ring watching the drama unfold.

The man, who undeniably drew attention as he was on his knees and had his hunting gloves ripped off, blood drying and cracking over his cold hands, was recognizable as a man of the hunting group that was soon to be back with their catch for the upcoming market. You looked around as much as you could, past the opposite wall of people concerned for what he was going to say, but you did not see any other carriages arrive with any game. In fact, you did not see even his.

You heard him mumbling something to himself, and one of the elder councilmen came over and took a knee beside him, desperate to figure out what was troubling him. You watched, tense, as they spoke, nods and headshakes and gestures of confusion being traded between them. The anxiety of it all made you forget the rapidly dropping temperature.

The councilman suddenly stood, putting a hand on the man’s shoulders, but he shook it off. You gasped, worried for a violent outbreak that you were sure the whole town wanted to avoid. 

The man stood on his own now, free from what he deemed and feigned support from the councilman.

“I am not saying these things to place fear!” You were shocked at the booming delivery of his statement. Everyone was silent now, not expecting the situation to take the turn it did. “I witnessed it on my own, and though no one else but me did, it does not mean what I saw was not real! Who knows how close it will get to us? Who knows if it will stop not only at our game but turn us into its own?!” 

If the air could somehow grow colder, it did in that moment. You, obviously, as well as the other nearly hundred people surrounding the man, had no idea what he was letting on about, but the sound of what he was saying plus his strained, clearly fearful tone was enough to put you on edge as well.

You felt your friend grip your wrist–you were sure she was suddenly fearful for her husband, who could have been in the way of whatever monstrosity this man claims to have seen. You weren’t sure you even wanted to know yourself.

“Nonsense!” Another elder walked into the circle and up to the man, gripping his shoulder suddenly and speaking to him closely, the words undecipherable. Your attention was diverted to the right, where the elder had come from, the sounds of hooves clopping and wheels churning over rock growing louder. The hunters had come back, and surely someone had filled the rest of the councilmen in on what was going on. Whether or not the townsfolk would also be filled in, remained the question. 

“Everybody!” One of the hunters strode into the center, whom you recognized as their lead, bringing quiet amongst the curious whispering. “I apologize on the behalf of my team for invoking any sort of fear just now. We had a… peculiar encounter on our journey today. With market approaching, the stress of needing a hefty catch along with the preparation of rationing for the hibernating months takes a toll on all of us, some more than others.” He projected his voice with ease, breath coming off in plumes of translucent steam. The scene was entirely chiaroscuro from the rapidly dimming sky and the square lamps up above. “A quick dash by a wolf may scare some of us if we did not see the beast to begin with. Rest assured, we have returned unharmed, and the market will commence this upcoming weekend with enough game for each family’s share. Goodnight!” 

Though a few patrons on the outside of the circle began to disperse, you could see that many did not want to, as drama such as what just transpired was not common in this village. There were no liars, or dramatics, and if there were, it was taken care of so fast that news never got its chance to travel to you. The crowd thinned, but you and your friend stayed put, watching the wagons roll in with slumped deer, hanging rabbits and flayed birds. You felt her grip loosen when her husband sat atop his own wagon now rolling in behind the rest, but you were watching the silent scene happening beyond the newcomers. 

The man who had drawn the crowd was speaking, in what looked to be a rather tense manner, to the man who addressed the audience. Speaking to him as if he betrayed his word, as if he were calling him a fool, or a liar. Whatever was being exchanged between the two was not that of civil camaraderie, but something eager to be settled and swept away. Whatever the intended goal of the man's words to dispel the crowd were, you knew the effect was opposite on you and many others standing around. You knew you would be thinking about it until the market has come and gone, and possibly until whatever threat was out there was defeated.

–

Dark corners of your house had you jumping like never before, even when you could walk through it with a blindfold on, and backwards. 

Admittedly, though being half-heartedly reassured that what he saw out there was nothing more than an unfortunately large wolf, your aquaintance’s husband was kind with his intentions in not spreading a mass hysteria, which he claimed was going to happen if no one tried to counter the claim made in the square the night prior.

The crowd dispersed not too long after that, and after hearing that you were offering up your own portion of meat to share with a family of five, her husband insisted you kept it for yourself, and you joined them for a cut of fresh venison that he just secured that day. 

Though you were now fed for the night and had the animal to spare for the next few, it did you little good in resting your growing worries about a potential danger outside of the town. You knew the men go far to hunt, further each day to find greater populations, but who knew how fast it was? Who knew how strongly it would be drawn to a whole commune of people? Was it carnivorous? Was it big enough to eat a human? Ravage a whole town?

You knew these worries were now getting out of hand–if this were the case, hunting season for the market was about to end and every man willing to kill an animal would be at every corner of the town. But whatever was living in the forest was well adapted to roaming in the dark…

You slept after a while, only after making sure multiple times that the door was locked and the windows bolted tightly. Your heart rate increased at the squeaking floorboards, sounds you were well accustomed to, sounds that now felt like they were intrusions. You now wish you had not gone out to your home that night, if you hadn’t heard this yourself, if you only heard of what went down from someone else, you would have been much more comfortable. But having been there, having heard his tone, your skin would not settle.

And truth be told, you believed what he claimed. Granted, what he was claiming was very vague, and no one had anything better to clear it, but it took a very skilled trickster to sound that convincing. You knew it was no lie.

Knowing there was no one else to turn to for this, though, you had to live as if that is exactly what it was. A deception, an illusion, a truly unfortunate mistake. What else?

This is what you repeated to yourself all day. An emergency would have been declared by now, and the men went out hunting at dawn like they always did during this season. Things were fine. It would be taken care of, you had to believe it.

The next day brought the same as yesterday, minus the showcase. The men left once again for hunting, and you were popping around the square finding neighbors to help them prepare for either their market stall or their rations for the freeze. The incident was mostly off of your mind while you stayed busy, but it was brought back to the forefront once again when the horses pulled their wagons in much too early, and the men rounded the square in what looked to be a secret meeting.

Like the previous day, minus the crowd, everyone around the town fulfilling their own chores stopped and stared, knowing this was out of the ordinary for any hunting season. There would be no reason for the men to return early, and there was a next-to-zero chance that there was no game frotting about in the forest. 

You grew cold, a sensation unrelated to the weather surrounding you, the type of cold that traveled through your veins and wrapped around your bones. You recalled what your friend had said over the vegetables yesterday, “I am worried… He’s told me there’s oddly less game this year than the previous few.” 

Could that be the issue at hand? Were there really no animals left to catch? Couldn’t be… this had never happened, and you knew the whole commune was conscious about their meat intake, giving the populations the whole year to recover their numbers, and the men chose different cardinal directions to travel each season; it seemed impossible. And yet, why were they back with empty carriages?

You spotted your friend’s husband among the men, and felt a surge in your curiosity. You gently parted from the mother you were helping to carry in grain and stalked over, your footsteps becoming quicker with each strike to the ground.

You called out to him and he turned, not being a part of the group conspiring with the councilmen.

“What is it? This can’t be good.” Your breath was ragged from your pace in the biting weather. That, and the addition of anxiously waiting for the answer.

He shook his head and looked around. “I… I don’t know what I can say. There was…” He paused for a moment longer than needed. You nearly shoved him to get it out. “A beast.”

You would have gasped had the air not stung your windpipe. The shock felt like one of the horses had slammed right into you, and yet, you felt as if you knew this would be the answer all along. You believed the man yesterday, no one here had any good reason to lie about the safety of the home he resided in. The thought of that was absurd.

“There was another encounter by multiple of us this morning, it ran off very quickly, but there was carnage.” This time you really did gasp, but he raised a hand to cut off any interjections. “No men down, it was eating deer. But we walked around the area it was found once it put acres between itself and us, and there were carcasses everywhere. It was eating what we could be eating. That is what has been affecting our numbers.” 

And thus, your friend was right. He must have been seeing this all winter so far to clue her in on his personal conspiracy, and here it was being proven true. A skilled hunter he was, he would surely notice when count was declining. 

“What was it?”

He was silent for even longer this time, and you were unsure what to make of it. Once he spoke, it was not words you were expecting to hear.

“It was no wolf. Please, don’t spread it, I’m sure they will come up with some creature to tell everyone, but, I trust you’ll keep my word. It was uncanny. Quadrupedal like wolf, fur standing on end down its back, muzzle black and leather with blood over its body, but it ran like a man. It scaled trees with inches long claws, it had no howl of a wolf, it was so deep, an octave no human could dream of reaching. I felt it in my chest. My eardrums were going to rupture, I was sure of it.”

You stood still, sure your body had turned to stone. There was no way the words he was speaking were true, but the situation holds solid here as well: why would he lie? This man knew you well, you were always round their house to share meals and extend help, he wouldn’t think about putting an irrational fear into you. It made no sense. Yet, that meant this is truly what he had seen…

“Do not say a word… I know they will tell the town something else but someone must know what I have seen. You understand…” 

You did understand, after all, how could he burden his wife with the knowledge of what he had seen? She would become eternally frightened, she would never let her children outside, possibly never want him to partake in a hunt again. You decided to bear this weight with him, it was the least you figured you could do.

“We crossed a squadron of men from another town, out east. We told them we were having some… trouble. They confided in us the same. They did not give away any details but I’m sure that they saw the same creature. Anyway… they offered to help us hunt it down. They should be arriving shortly.” He paused again and looked around. The group of men was now thinning, and you saw many looked to be in distress. You did not know what you could do for them, or for the safety of the community. “It’s safe right now while we are all here, but once we depart again go right back inside, you know.” He stalked away from you to join the rest of the men still discussing with one another. You sighed.

You felt no better knowing this now, obviously; you had to move with caution and you could not take any chances. You didn’t often leave your home during the winter once the sun had set but now you must be certain to remember it. This would be a tough winter, and you hoped the hunters would have it taken care of immediately.

In no world did you think such a beast would exist. You weren’t even sure what to call it, how to describe it. The closest word, without having seen this cosmic beast, was werewolf; you knew there were some legends of werewolves existing within this region, but these are oral tales passed down to scare children into staying in their houses at night and to not run off too far during the day. Tales made to keep them obedient, they were not supposed to be warnings.

Swallowing the lump of fear now present in your chest, you returned to your duties, saying not much at all when asked what was going on. You kept your word, and besides, who would believe you?

Working away the thoughts, they were once again drawn back to the present when the sound of heavy footfall echoed from a trail between town buildings. You looked up and waited for the sound to grow closer. The hunters all convened at the moment they heard it as well, and there entered another 20 or so men from what you assumed was the eastern town that he had been telling you about. They didn’t look much different from the men of your village, save for their primary choice of hide was a deeper brown than your town’s standard tan. 

You felt a slight weight off your shoulders at the sight of all of the men, equipped with their individual weapons slung across their shoulders, but you worried for their safety once they were set out on their mission to defeat the beast.

More talking and strategizing ensued, and you stood to the side to watch them sort themselves out into small groups, presumably to cover area faster. While scanning the tableau, your eye caught a sight of your friend off to the side, two of her children huddled behind her large skirt. You padded over to them.

Once you approached, speaking in a hushed tone, you addressed her, “This is the state of things then?”

She sighed and shook her head. “I can’t believe it. If they find nothing until the market, most of the catch from yesterday will be ours. We don’t even know how much we will be able to trade off. Not like this…” You turned to look back at the men. There were five groups now, and one was making their way over to where the two, or four, of you stood. Her husband was at the front.

They spoke together softly for a moment, and you took the time to discreetly survey the rest of the men who followed him over. 

Again, they all looked similar to your eyes; similar stature, and dress, and they resembled those of your own village as well. You figured that luck was somewhere among the indescribable chaos they witnessed to have run into reinforcements. 

He started talking to you, and you noticed a few of your other neighbors were standing by. He was introducing them all by first name and their village. All standard, you expected this if there were going to be nearby.

There were 6 men to this group total, four of them being strangers. “You’ll see us around, so don't hesitate to also ask for our help,” One of them spoke, voice much deeper than the man you were familiar with. “We are stronger as a unit.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, holding in the cold, and also seeking some inner comfort, as the severity of the situation was starting to dawn.

You were about to walk away and lock up at home when a voice interrupted, “Excuse me. I am late… I apologize. I have been added to your group.”

The group of men parted as they turned around to stare at the newcomer, who you could only assume was someone from their village. They were absurdly quiet for the first moment, letting him take the spotlight from the others.

This man looked nothing like an ordinary villager.

While the men surrounding you were equipped with thick hide jackets lined with fur for warmth and the most contrast to be seen on them was the white trim to their dark hair, this man stood out and would possibly never blend in. He had a deep blue jacket, buttoned and belted together, looking like it awfully lacked in layers, yet he gave no sign of being cold at all. His black pants were accessorized with pockets up and down both legs, and he wore black leather boots, the kind you only saw in mainland areas much further south. He did not get any of this dress from here, nor within hundreds of miles from anywhere around here. 

After scrutinizing his wardrobe, you raised your eyes to await the next words he spoke. Yet, the looks of his face solidified the fact that this man was not only not a villager, he was certainly no native to these areas.

His hair, compared to everyone’s around, was a shocking deep blonde, a hair color you hadn’t seen in years, and had only seen on young children. He was uncharacteristically clean, no signs of having been hunting at all this day, and while most men chose to sport thick facial hair for weather protection, only the light skin and harsh contours of his face were present. And his eyes… those bright blue eyes…

They locked on yours. Heat seared through your veins, the rings of your vision fuzzed, the sky whited out, blood was racing into your head then back out, a wave of dizziness hit you at full force, your fingers went numb then regained feeling all at once, your chest constricted, your knees were about to give out–then he looked away. The chill of the winter returned. You were standing on solid ground.

You were breathless. No one seemed to notice any shift in the atmosphere, except for you. Your hands clutched your jacket even tighter.

“Where are you coming from? I know of no towns that look like… not us.” One of the men said, avoiding the obvious state that he was clearly not local.

“No, I am not from here. I am from much further north. I was passing by and heard word that there was a hunt that needed assistance and… I have no further pressing issues. I am dedicating myself to your cause. My name is Leon.”

Voice like butter, it slid through your ears and caressed your brain, Leon stood with a confidence unknown to you. He held himself as if he were the biggest man in the town and to you, it appeared he was, standing at least 3 inches or more above everyone in this commune. This man was an enigma. Leon was a complete mystery to behold.

“Well,” Your friend’s husband spoke from next to you, making you jump slightly, forgetting he was even involved with this. “We are glad to have you then, Leon. We hope to have this under control within the next few days, we need to keep our market tradition alive.” He clapped the other men on the back and they huddled once again, ready to take off until evening.

You breathed in deeply, not feeling any pain you may have expected. You figured you were suddenly feeling down, from what, who knew, but you were not well. You turned to your friend.

“I… I am not feeling too well, I think I am going to go for the night. I would stay, but I don’t think I should.” Your voice felt feeble, but she seemed to detect no indifference.

“Oh, are you sure? I can bring you what we have left, don’t stress yourself.”

You shook your head. “No, no, don’t worry about me, I have plenty. I need to lay down. Thank you, though.” With a nod from her, you turned your back on her and speed walked across the square, ducking through all of the patrons standing around just as confused as you felt earlier. There was still confusion, but for an entirely different reason.

Who was Leon? There was no way he was simply passing through from a village up north, which introduced more confusion into the equation, because it certainly did not explain the dress. Why would he be dressed for much higher temperature climates up north? There was just no reason…

And those sensations… they were unexplainable to you, yet you had to write them off as coincidence of timing, the shock of seeing the newcomer, some other third party element that caused you to take ill. There was no other way to explain it. It was a mix of unfortunate timing, and he was another man helping the search to keep the grounds safe. Just another man.

But that face was persistent behind your eyelids.

–

The men set out on the hunt officially the next day.

They spent the previous night mapping out routes and directions that each of them would take to avoid overlap and to cover as much area as possible. Your friend came by your house that morning to check on you; she relayed the information her husband had told her later that night, and you felt at least relieved that they were getting out there.

That night you were restless, you tossed and turned and were certain that you got little to no sleep at all. Your body wanted the rest so bad, but your mind would not let you.

You kept feeling the shock of connecting your gaze with Leon’s. You felt like you were at the edge of a nightmare every time you started to drift, and terrified to wake up in one, your mind subconsciously refused. You wanted to sleep, but you knew you could not sleep the day away. Maybe, you supposed, hard work today will put you to sleep tonight.

You finally brought that rabbit up that you had been delivered a few days ago. After the family insisted that you kept it while you shared some of their venison with them, you put it in the underground storage, where it was chilled enough to preserve, yet not freeze. You laid it on the counter, pleased to see you could still save the fur. Your gaze lingered on it.

Its eyes were closed. There were four puncture marks around the head and neck, they didn’t bleed too much. It looked as if it were just sleeping; the position did not suggest any signs of rigor mortis. Eating animals and having to skin them never bothered you–it was how you were raised. Putting too much thought behind it makes things unstable, you begin to question morals, you begin to question the world, but you supposed that was the inherent position of man on Earth.

Who had given you this rabbit? That had still gone unanswered, and you weren’t sure you would ever find out. Nonetheless, you were not going to run in circles to find the mystery gifter when you were hungry, and there was fresh meat on the table for dinner.

You were seated to eat dinner alone after a day of doing last minute preparation before the winter market. It was slated to happen in two days, you were helping mothers around the square fill their grain portions and make room in their storage chests. You did all of this for yourself in between, but as you’ve said to your friend multiple times before, you were only one person, and you could ration it should you need to.

You made the whole rabbit. It was small enough, and you could eat the other half tomorrow. It would cool down just fine in the underground storage overnight. 

The candlelight on your table flickered. You were suddenly afraid of it going dark, you had to have your matches nearby in case of this happening. You already knew you would be caged with fear, unable to move, any sense of navigation in the dark stripped from you.

Putting the rabbit in a cloth wrap, you placed it into your underground storage, making a mental note to bring it up in the morning to prevent it from freezing through. You extinguished the candles, but not before setting a small fire in the hearth, enough wood inside to provide you with light until you were able to fall asleep, but nothing too big to risk a hazard.

You hoped with food in you and a fire going slowly would ease you off to sleep, and let you rest thoroughly this time–it was everything but.

Your eyes shot open. You faced the dark, unable to gather your bearings for a moment. You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, feeling the pinch of pine needles under your clothing. You looked down, desperate to figure out the situation. Hearing the wind howl and not feeling the warmth that your home would be providing you, your vision returned slowly, and your mind pieced it all together.

You were in a forest. Where exactly, you could not tell. You did not often journey into the forest, there was no reason for you to be out there. This aside, out there you were, and you had to find a way back.

Your legs were unsturdy, but you forced them in place, holding your balance upright as you took weary steps over the foliage. The wind occasionally whipped your face and you squinted to avoid it, eyes getting teary and fingers growing numb.

All around you in each cardinal direction was nothing but the dark blanket of night and more trees. You could see the tips of leaves up on the canopy painted by moonlight, and now that you adjusted to the dimness, she was your guidance.

The lack of sound should have been comforting, yet you found it ultimately disturbing. There should be more life around you, yet among the vast acres of wildlife, you were somehow the only one making any noise, the only one to exist here. It was wrong. Something was deeply wrong.

A twig snapping caught your attention. You held your breath in a silent gasp and turned, trying to source the cause. You held as still as the wind would render you, but fear was your driving force, and you became an impenetrable wall while facing the danger. 

Seeing nothing and hearing no more, you turned, ready to continue your trek. Mere seconds after you took another step, yet another branch snap rang out, this time, it was only a handful of paces in front of you. Your ears were not deceiving you, you knew this was not a sound that you had produced, meaning there was something, someone else out there. They could see you, no doubt about it, yet you were blind to them.

Your body refused to cooperate. You could not take any more steps forward despite possibly being in direct vicinity of the danger. As much force as you applied, your limbs never gave way, and you were rooted to the ground, eyes peeled on the ages old trees in front of you, watching as the darkness uncovered itself.

A shadowy mist separated itself from the trees. It hung, suspended in midair, not making any attempts to move, until after a few seconds, it began to evolve, tendrils of smoke solidifying into body parts, horridly long body parts and skin that shone under the moonlight, a sheen to it that was not possible for any human to achieve. Ice blue eyes pierced the vast emptiness, and as you stared into them, for whatever creature they belonged to began to take shape. You witnessed in your peripherals arms and legs, bent to support the hunched body on the ground, muscles undulating and flexing under tightly pulled skin, fur sprouting from its back, claws digging into the dirt, teeth shining like stars from a face as black as the void. It was set on you. There was no outrunning this cosmic beast.

It took no steps forward, yet you felt it’s spirit enter your proximity like a snake tightening on its prey. Your body started to tremble, tears streaking down your face, unblinking, expressionless, save for your mouth slightly agape in a silent gasp. You felt it get closer, but it physically remained, your chest tightened, and you felt the pressure on your skin. Its eyes were glowing white, saliva pooling off of its teeth, its jaw unhinged, and your brain went blank, ears ringing from the deep, droning growl it emitted. It was not felt only with your head, but your chest vibrated, your eyes blurred, you fell to your knees.

You opened your mouth finally in a blood curdling scream.

With a gasp that wracked your whole body, you shot up, hands gripping the fabric underneath you as you stared up at the dark ceiling.

A nightmare. 

You sat still, allowing your heart to steady and slowing your breath down, taking a moment to reground yourself. Nothing of what you just saw was real.

You slowly lowered yourself back down onto your bed, listening to the rustle of the blanket and the distant crackle of the dying fire. As much as you told yourself it was just a dream, the feeling it left behind was more real than you had ever felt.

You jumped again when there was a sudden series of knocks on your front door.

You bolted upright again, staring out into the dark in the direction of the door. Whoever was standing outside was not knocking again, but you had a feeling that they were not walking away when you did not answer. Though you were afraid in this moment, there was no reason you shouldn’t trust a neighbor coming to you at this time. It could be dire. You had to find out.

You lifted yourself out of bed and wrapped a light blanket around your shoulders. The fire was nearly out now, and you paused to throw another log onto it, but made that a task for after you helped who was at your door.

Your hand hovered over the doorknob, making second guesses, wondering if you should just turn around and pretend you did not hear it. But that is not how things operated in this town–everyone helped everyone.

You twisted the knob and slowly opened the door, only enough to peek your face through and observe who was standing at the doorstep.

Your brow furrowed immediately when you deduced who it was. You locked eyes, and you expected the wave of intense emotion that came with it, but nothing happened. You spoke.

“Can I help you?”

He nodded curtly. “I am sorry to have woken you. I got a tad distracted on hunt today, spent a little too long down at the parlor… I don’t have anywhere to stay for tonight. If you had the room… but please don’t hesitate to close the door on me should you feel so inclined. I understand this situation I am putting you in.”

You blinked at him. You opened the door a bit more. “You… you aren’t staying at the inn?”

He looked to his left in the direction of the square. You supposed, putting a mental puzzle together right after you said it, that the inn was full from the other villagers aiding you during this time. “No vacancy.” As expected.

You stared at him for a moment longer. A breeze hit your face, and you shuddered. You figured he was faring much worse wandering outside in this weather.

“Okay… I have a mat I can pull out by the fire. I need to throw more wood onto it.” You swung the door open fully, and he stepped over the threshold. Hanging his jacket and outerwear on the hooks, you felt his eyes follow you as you opened your wardrobe and unrolled the spare mat you had. You suddenly felt pressure to perform in your own home. Shaking your head, you threw two small logs onto the fire and waited for it to come to life.

“Again, I am sorry to wake you. You know, your comrade has spoken of you highly, and I figure a full house such as his would not have kindly taken me in at this time.” You turned to look at him, having followed you to the fire, taking a seat on the floor on top of the mat. The angles of his face created harsh shadows under his brow bone. He looked unscathed. Hadn’t he been outside all day?

“It’s alright, I… I had just woken up anyway. Don’t sleep fully through the night sometimes.” He nodded, but did not speak. You poked the last log fully into the embers for it to ignite, warming the house for a few hours longer. “This season is more stress than it usually is, I imagine that has a lot to do with it.”

“Yes, I can tell many of these men are unsure about how to conduct themselves right now. I can’t say I blame them though. I’m sorry, my name is Leon, by the way, I should have started with that before asking for your hospitality.”

You nodded. “Yes, Leon, I remember,” You spoke wistfully. “How did you get to be wandering this late at night? Everything should have closed hours ago if I know what time it is.” He blinked slowly at you, no expressions on his face. 

“I am much accustomed to the darkness. I like to spend some of my time wandering around and seeing what is open, where I can go, and if that results in nothing for me, then I turn and leave. But, I came here for a reason and I cannot abandon the cause that I volunteered to contribute to, and it seems the inn I had last spent time in was already housing those from the east who are doing the same. I came from there. They had a small parlor, but I was forced out once their latest hour of operation came.” Leon shrugged. “And as I said, I recall having heard the introductions of those who live nearby. My first gamble paid off.”

You said nothing to this. His voice was sliding through your head like silk, and his face moved as if it were a statue enchanted. His aura was unlike any other you have encountered, and you found yourself wondering if this is what people from farther regions were truly like, or if there was something about him that no other could replicate.

“Well, I have a half of a rabbit left that I ate for supper if you are hungry. I would rather it get eaten while it has just recently been cooked.”

He looked over to the kitchen, shrouded in shadow. Pieces of his hair stuck together in blades of blonde, yet it looked purposefully tousled and cleaned. The bare white tunic he wore was clearly too light for the winter weather, yet he seemed unbothered by it.

“I would be lying if I said rabbit weren’t my favorite, but I will decline. I am fair off for the time being. I can snatch one up tomorrow.” He scooted himself back so he was resting against the wall, still facing the fire, where you were sitting. The heat of it was licking your skin now, lulling you back into a drowsy state. As much as you wanted to return to the loft bed to sleep, you couldn’t abandon company.

“So, where do you come from Leon? I remember you saying north but… I have not encountered any northerners for quite some time, I honestly forgot there was anyone up there at all.”

He shrugged again. Before he started talking, you moved from the fire, fearing the heat may put you back to sleep right where you sat. “I do come from the north, but I have always been a roamer. I have visited various villages and small cities, anything that the forest wraps around. I explore. I lend my help when needed.” 

“You’re nomadic? How is that possible in the weather the north gets?”

He rolled his head to the side from where it was resting on the wall. His face was painted orange. “I have learned to adapt. I much prefer living that way.”

You stared again, aware that he was aware of how long you were looking at him. Every answer he gave only puzzled you more. “It doesn’t seem possible.”

He quirked his mouth in a small smirk. You ignored the sudden heat surge from the fire that was surely not growing any larger. “I find a way to make everything possible.”

A spell of silence fell over you. You could feel the sleep creeping back under your eyelids, and wanted to return to the loft.

“Do you need anything else? I’m sorry I don’t prepare for visitors too often…” Leon had closed his eyes, hands wrapped around the blanket off of your small sofa and a spare pillow. 

He shook his head slightly. “It is more than enough, I can’t come into your home at dead of night and demand more than you’ve given me. It is plenty for me to be ready to set out with them in the morning.”

You nodded your head and went to stand. Before you even made it a few paces away from him, you turned again, a sudden fear overcoming you.

“Do you think you’ll be able to catch… it? It’s been driving me crazy, it feels. It’s making my mind reel.”

He turned his head and looked over at you now, half of his face hidden in shadow. A few pieces of his yellow hair fell onto his forehead. “I do believe so. If there is anything to catch out there at all.”

Your brow scrunched. “Do you believe there is nothing out there?”

He sighed. The light made the rise and fall of his chest visible. You watched the way his shirt tightened around his torso with the movement. “I think the case is, more often than not, that one person spreads a moment of hysteria and it catches on. There might be something out there, there might not.”

You recall the conversation you had had with your friend’s husband the other day. He had seen it himself, and you knew he wouldn’t lie. Were Leon’s experiences the only premonition he was speaking from? You could only assume that was the case with him. But as to how he could have been nomadic his whole life and never come across a wicked beast… you couldn’t imagine the likelihood of that scenario.

“I feel that the fear that man held was not fake when he told us all what he saw… I believe him.”

Leon stared at you. The fire glinted in his eyes. They looked impossibly dark and deep from where you were standing. “What do you think it was out there?”

You breathed in and cast your gaze down. You honestly were not sure what you believed. Your logical mind, and the mind that wanted to keep everyone safe, told yourself that it was a wolf. A large wolf that was not afraid of people. But the mind of yours that likes to wander is a different story.

“I think… I think there is an animal. And it is getting closer. So, it makes me worried.” Leon nodded as you spoke, but he offered no insight. “There’s rumors.”

“Rumors? Spread by the men on the hunt or the children eager for more legends to pass on?” You could hear the smirk in Leon’s voice without needing to look up. It made you clench your jaw.

“Rumors that it is otherworldly.” You shrugged. “Who am I to deny the existence of that which I cannot claim to have proof of it not?” You looked up again to Leon, who also had his eyes cast down. A chill washed over you despite the fire still burning. “Could be a werewolf.”

Leon’s eyes snapped up at that. Your head seared with a sudden migraine spike, and your vision went blurry. Your muscles and organs felt ice cold yet your skin burned, both sensations merging to keep you rooted to the spot. All the air left your lungs, and your throat went dry. You felt your knees grow weaker until they could no longer bear your weight, and you registered the sound of your body hitting the floor, but felt none of the pain from the impact. Your vision went black.

When you awoke again, the sun was peeking over the horizon and you were in your bed. Leon was not in the house.

–

You carried an air of confusion with you for the better part of the day. You had not seen Leon once since he left your house, and the only evidence left behind that you knew he was there for sure was the spare mat out on the floor, the blanket folded neatly and the pillow stacked on top of it. You didn’t hear him leave, but then again, you don’t remember going upstairs at all.

Did you black out? Have a fainting spell? That could be the only explanation–what else could you attribute it to? This was a new experience for you, as you had never had any issues like this before with your health (that you knew of) and had no past encounters that would offer you any sort of explanation other than a sudden bout of fainting. You were at least glad that Leon was there; he was the only person around to have put you back into your bed, unless you really had woken up and lost your memory of it.

And Leon–you could barely even remember the conversation happening when you fainted in the middle of it. Though you were not this kind of person and always think the better of everyone, you mind did of course do a mental checklist of everything that could have been blamed on Leon. You drank nothing and ate nothing while he was in the house. You offered him half your rabbit, but he declined. You kept your eyes on him at all times while he was in the house, save for the obvious part when you were unconscious, and he left the house in no state of disarray when you woke. Your body felt intact and unharmed, and you mentally felt comfortable with the idea that he simply carried you back to your bed, and hopefully returned downstairs. You hated that train of thought, but you had to cover all bases.

Today was the final day before the market. There was a group of men going out to finish a hunt while the rest of those who usually go out were split up to finish coverage looking for the wild animal that some had seen. You felt increasingly nervous when you thought about this hunt, taking into account what your friend’s husband had told you he had seen. It sounded like an alien. That thought terrified you, knowing something was roaming about that you had no relation to, no knowledge of its existence, and not a clue at all on what it could do to you or the others around. A true monster.

You stopped short, having been struck with the memories from last night. Leon arriving at your house asking for shelter was not the only odd thing that happened–you had a nightmare.

You rarely dreamed at all, nevermind having a nightmare. You can vividly recall what transpired now, though, as you think back on it. You remember being in the woods alone; cold and dark and the infinite stretch of trees the only other things out there with you. And that beast… it felt far too real for you to be comfortable with. 

The image of it was now seared into your brain, and every noise coming from the town made you jump. Was this what was out there? Was that the monster to behold? If that answer was yes… you decided you would be better off if you didn’t know.

A shouting was heard from across the square. Through the clearing of the trees, you saw a wagon being pulled in. You were brought back to a state of confusion once more at seeing this, knowing it was much too early for anyone to return. You stalked closer to where it would be unloaded, only growing more worried and anxious when you saw there was no game upon it at all, but rather, a body.

You gasped and stopped walking, instinctively reaching out to those walking next to you to stop them from seeing as well. You heard more gasps and whispers, felt others grabbing onto you and you grabbed back for support. You watched as they lifted a man from the back of the wagon, looking utterly pale, limbs swinging back and forth as he was carried to a makeshift gurney that someone had rushed out. You felt at a loss for breath. What had happened on this hunt that caused a lost life?

Some people beside you started shouting to those coming in from the hunt. Asking questions on what had happened, who else was hurt and lost, was anyone coming back at all, and was it the wolf that had done this.

One of the men walked closer, chatting with a man from the council. He was speaking loud enough, purposefully, to let everyone know what had happened.

“We saw it, and we were close to taking it down. We had our rifles pointed and ready, and… by god, I don’t know, but we were ready and suddenly we lost track of where it went. I blinked and everything disappeared.” More whispers broke out from next to you, you almost turned and shushed them so you could hear. “It popped up again through the trees, running, someone shot and we thought it hit. It took a hit on the side of its head, its ear… but it kept going, kept running, then it got to one of our men somehow.” He shook his head. “It… it got his neck, and he bled out so fast, he…” He brought his hand up to swipe at his chin, clearly in distress from seeing one of his men go down. You closed your eyes, you could not stomach to listen anymore.

You turned and made haste back to your home. You wanted to be inside suddenly, safe from the outside. You would go seek the comfort of your friend, but you knew you would have to put on a face not to worry her children. You did not have that energy in you right now, you needed to be alone.

You had hoped for positive news on the return of the men, but hearing this, you knew nothing good could come out of their mouths next. If whatever was out there was taking down the men that were sent to protect those who live within these communities' walls, then who is to say how safe anyone inside is now…

Your mind was reeling as you shut yourself into your home. You found yourself no longer wanting to be outside, no longer wanting to help out of your own selflessness due to the fear of that being the last time you would help anyone, or worse, witness someone else’s unfortunate end to their destiny. The mess this has become was too much for you to swallow. You were nearly drowning in your fear.

You didn’t move positions all night, watching the sky go from a dimly lit gray to a dark one, then deep navy, then black. You weren’t sure what time it was, but you had no intention of moving. Emotion gripped your stomach, making you unable to eat, not wanting to, not wanting to simply get up.

The fire was dying slowly, and the only motivator for you to move right now was the threat of being in the dark. You pushed yourself up off the mat you had not yet put away to throw another couple of logs on the fire. You stared, hunched, as they began to catch fire and watched as their layers were peeled back by the flames, as the bark curled and crumbled to ash, and your face was basked in intense heat that you almost couldn’t free yourself from.

Deep in a trance, you were startled when a series of knocks sounded at the door. Your head whipped in the direction of the sound, blood flowing like a rushing river, knowing who would be behind the door but still being afraid to make the move and let him in.

Your brain was yelling at you to get up and move, to be a good person, the person you were, but something inside of you was still terrified. Terrified that if you let him in, the beast would sneak in with him.

You finally stood, deciding to do the right thing, and perhaps, having some company below you while you slept might ease the worry.

You grasped the cold door handle and turned slowly. Through the light cast from the fire, a sliver of his face was illuminated. Part of his eye was clear under the shadow from his brow, and he looked to be glistening in what you guessed was sweat, but you couldn’t imagine how he could be sweating in this weather. Strands of hair were falling over his face. He looked menacing in this moment, yet he waited for your invitation to even speak first.

“You’re here again.” You spoke in a low whisper, knowing he could hear with the silent world around you.

“You’re awake to greet me again,” Leon’s voice was a low rumble, clenching your heart with emotion, untangling the strings of fear in your ribcage. “I fear I must ask for safety from you once more. It is… the same situation as yesterday with none of the outsiders leaving your grounds yet.”

You breathed in, feeling the cold air of the outdoors fill your lungs. It cleared your head a little bit. Last night was fine, it was you lending a hand to someone who needed it and it did you no harm. There was no reason to turn Leon down this time.

“Sure. I still have your setup by the fire.”

Swinging the door open let in a rush of cold air, but you welcomed it for a moment, feeling yourself calm down from the heat of the house and the mental mess you have been creating. Leon shed his jacket and boots and walked himself over to the mat on the floor, collapsing into a barely sitting position, resting his upper body on the wall behind him. From where you stood in the kitchen after closing and locking up the door, you could see his shirt was almost soaked through.

You swallowed, carefully studying the curves of his arms and the way his back flexed to accommodate his new position, head tilted and exposing the flesh of his neck to you, oranges and yellows dancing over the sheen on his skin, bringing it to life. You took careful steps over, taking a seat by the fire once more.

“Did I wake you again?” His voice was low and raspy, and without moving your eyes from the floor, focusing on nothing, you knew he was looking at you.

“No,” You shook your head. “I was already awake.” 

He hummed. “Another nightmare?” He questioned. You swallowed, not liking the unwelcome recollection of that dream, trying to focus on the present and the tangible person in front of you, not the wretched beast of your darkest dreams. Anything to be distracted from… everything.

Your breath caught in your throat at once, however, upon a dawning realization: Leon should not know about the nightmare.

You suddenly shot your gaze upward, ready to question him, when your thoughts completely derailed.

You gasped. “Leon! Your ear… you’re bleeding…” You stood up and ran to the kitchen, wetting a rag in your basin. Wringing it out, dripping on the way over, you pressed it to the right side of Leon’s head, taking his face in your other free hand. He did not resist, rather he let you pamper him; he seemed to not care about the dripping and drying blood on his face and clothes.

You cleaned his skin to a degree, the wound still looked fresh, but it stopped dripping blood for now. The rag would have to be thrown away.

“How did this happen, Leon? Did you get hurt on the hunt?” You tried to wipe away some of the fresh blood from his shirt, but it merely smudged it. You sighed and stood, deciding to leave it, knowing he didn’t seem to care either way if he was covered in blood or not.

You heard him breathe in deeply. “You can say that.” You glanced back over your shoulder, growing a bit weary to see he was barely moving positions. It would be crazy from what looked to just be a flesh wound on his ear, but you hoped that luck would not have it so he would die in your home on you.

You walked back over to him and crouched slowly again, still by the fire, but closer to him, in case of more blood emergencies. His skin was unnaturally shiny; you could tell he was wet, but the fire was not nearly strong enough for it to be sweat.

“Is everything alright? You seem ill, I think you should see the medic–”

“No, I’m fine.” He cut you off. His tone was much more stern than he had been with you just prior, and the night before. You watched the muscles in his throat contract as he gulped. He was clearly unwell, but you would not push it anymore. “It’s just been a long night. I should start listening to my body when it is telling me enough is enough.”

You nodded, holding yourself back from getting up and fetching all the blankets you had left in the house. Sweating this profusely while it is not nearly the correct weather for it could only mean a fever. But this was still a man you did not know well enough, and you did not want to push on any boundaries where you didn’t know where the line was.

“Leon…” You started gently. He turned his head to regard you. His gaze was as hot as the burning logs beside you. He said nothing, eyes urging you to continue. “I worry that you are unwell. Please tell me what I can do for you. Or… tell me what you would like me to do for you.”

He quirked a smile at this. You felt a rush of cold under your thick wardrobe. “I need you to stop worrying. I know I look ill but I give you my word that I will be just fine. I would have let you know if this was new for me… but I have seen it before.” He shook his head and turned away again. “I will be fine come morning.” He fell into silence again. You watched the veins in his neck dip and bob with the breaths and swallows he took, feeling torn between two distinct emotions inside of you, knowing one came from the humanitarian you were raised to be, and the other, a deep, twisted lust that you felt crawling back up from the grave you buried it in a long time ago.

The fact of the current, unfortunate, situation was this–Leon was a very attractive man. This you could not deny. No amount of strangeness between you two would make you blind to this fact. There was no arguing against saying this as a statement, this man was taller than any other man you saw daily, he was nearly twice their size as well. His face was carved of the smoothest marble, and the way his hair sat brought even more emotion than there already was to the deep inset of his brow bone. With his shirt dampened with sweat, it clung to the hills and valleys of his pectoral and abdominal muscles, and your eyes were glued. You felt a wave of guilt rise, knowing you were taking pleasure in your viewing when he was in such a state, but you could not look away. You just could not.

After what felt like long, agonizing seconds of admiring his build, your eyes drifted upward again to meet his, and you felt a wave of shame pass over as you realized he was already looking at you.

“So astonished by meeting someone like me?” He looked smug without so much as a hint of a smile, his blue eyes practically radiating in the firelight.

“I’ve never seen anyone like you around here.” You choked out, suddenly barely able to speak. 

“No surprise there. There is no one else like me to come wandering by.” He barely moved as he spoke, save for the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed raggedly. “I know no one here has seen someone like me before, in fact. It is all the same from years past when I came through the first time. It is like history is re-living itself.

“You’ve been here before?” You asked with mild shock, knowing no one has ever alluded to a mysterious traveller who has stopped by. Word would have gotten around no matter how long ago it was–even when you are greeted by others of villages far, they look much more similar to you than they do to Leon.

He stared at you for a moment longer before continuing. “Many, many years ago. Nothing has changed. Not that I would have expected it to, the method of living here has worked for decades so why alter it? Why come in and destroy a civilization like I’m stepping on an anthill just because it is in the way of the path I travel? I could have. I didn’t, though. It’s more fun to be the looming threat over the colony and lead a single ant or two astray, leaving the rest wondering if anything ever happened at all years down the line.” 

You felt your body tense with each word he spoke. What was he saying? How had he been here before, long enough before to know decades of history about the commune? Not even you had that many years of life itself to be able to speak for.

This time, a grin spread on his face. You were confusing the emotions blooming inside of you again.

“I…” Chest constricting, you tried to talk through it. You could only muster a loud whisper. “I don’t understand.” 

“How could you? It’s more than one person can bear witness to. The legends always have some concrete event to back them up.” He shifted, brows furrowed as if he were in pain. You felt yourself slightly less inclined to want to help him. The glow of the fire against his skin was turning him even more golden, it seemed like it was happening without help from the flames. “Still have that rabbit?”

You blinked, thrown off by the sudden change in conversation. “No, I ate it already. I am sorry if you wanted it.”

Leon shook his head in response to this. “No, I didn’t want it. Just curious. It was for you, not for you to share.”

You sat up straighter, leaning forward toward him only an inch. “The rabbit was from you?”

He breathed a laugh at this. “Well, who else do you think left it?”

You shook your head. “But… you weren't even here when that was left for me. You didn’t show up until nearly two days later. How?”

Leon sat forward to meet you. He was now inches away from your face, and while on the surface rippled a thin layer of fear, you were far braver than to back down in front of him. The swelling heat of emotion inside of you was enough for you to keep your stance. “I’ve been here. I am not new, and I never have been.” You stared in defiance at him, trying to untie whatever knot he was creating with his words. “I might be new to you, but these grounds are not new to me. You are my ants. I stand over you and watch how you behave in my shadow. Generations come and go from the anthill, but I am always outside watching how tall it gets. Waiting for it to collapse. Seeing how many ants can wander away before the whole colony is gone.”

You tried to shake your head, but you were rooted in place. His eyes burned a hole through you, and they almost unnaturally glowed. He took a deep breath in and rolled his head back, and you unabashedly watched the languid movement the skin of his throat made against the stretch. 

“I… like to watch it and yet… I can’t help but play a game with them every once in a while.”

His eyes were back on yours now. His face showed no signs of discomfort, or any sort of illness it seemed he was sporting minutes ago. The shadows and contours of his face gave him a harsh look, and his stare felt like he knew everything about you. The longer you looked into them, the more you felt yourself unravel, the more unsteady you felt in your own body. A shock passed through you at once, and you were unsure if this was natural, or a phantom being taking control. 

“Game?” You finally managed to get out.

He hummed, and you felt it in your core. “Joining in on a game of hide and seek, trying to find the one that won’t appear, yet the whole time, it is hiding right under their noses. They let it seek with them. Why would they think it hides among them?”

You did not like what he was insinuating with his words–you hoped you were misconstruing them, but you kept up rapidly, and made the connection all too easily. 

You wanted to disbelieve, yet you said it yourself: Who are you to deny the existence of that which you have no proof of living? You have the proof now. He was in front of you.

Wanting to object to his words, you opened your mouth to shut down what he was saying, but you were left speechless. No matter how hard you tried to utter one word, the effort was useless. You felt a wave come over you again.

It felt as if the oxygen in the room had thinned. Now, not only could you not speak, but you could barely breathe. You began to feel dizzy, not sure if you were swaying in the spot you were sitting or truly falling back to the floor. Your vision blurred, and all of the harsh, strong lines defining Leon’s body from the rest of the scene went soft and fuzzy, but the irises of his eyes were a beacon through the fog. They never left your gaze.

You felt the pressure of a hand around your throat, but even through the rapidly unfocusing and refocusing of your vision, you could see Leon was not touching you. Despite this, the sensation never let up, and you felt it get tighter, warmer, and you heard yourself wheeze in a breath around the grasp.

“I must say… I appreciate the mind you had to not cast aside the outlandish ideas you have heard being thrown around regarding what was happening amongst your woods… it made it all too easy for me to take residence inside you.”

The voice, Leon’s voice, was being spoken inside your brain. Your ears were only registering the crackle of the fire, but the deep reverberation of his voice was bouncing around in your head, echoing within, opening your mind to a realm of new possibilities–ones you had previously assumed impossible.

The next time your vision cleared, it stayed that way, and you felt a wash of relief upon having your sight back. The relief was short lived, however, when as your consciousness recentered itself, Leon sent you falling backwards onto your floor with one swift push to your shoulder. He was quicker to reangle himself and send his hand flying to meet your head at the point it would have collided with the hardwood, and you could only gasp as you registered this happening all too slowly for your liking.

Your back was flush with the floor and Leon was hovering above you. You felt the back of his hand underneath your head, the cushion from the wood, and your skin felt alive from his gaze as if he were touching you with invisible hands a million times over. There was no longer firelight dancing on his face, he was swathed in darkness, turning the hollows of his eyes and contours of his cheekbones even darker. But still, his blue eyes emitted a soft glow.

“How easy to lure a rabbit into a false sense of security by standing still until it forgets it saw me. How easy it is to become a presence in the mind of those that had no armor to protect themselves against me in the first place.” This time, as Leon spoke to you outloud, the voice inside your head was still tumbling around in there, making him sound as if he were in too many places at once. You felt so scrutinized under his gaze, still feeling the edge of movement restriction around you, surely still the work of him somehow.

Making as stable eye contact as you could muster, your voice returns for seconds long enough for you to choke out, “If choosing to fight a battle with those that are helpless is how you conduct your strategy, I don’t think of you as worth any nobility we had to offer you.”

He lowered himself closer to your face with swiftness unseen by human capability. “When did I say I was anything of a nobleman?”

As if unleashed by his words, a sensation similar to a boa winding itself around its prey consumed your body. You struggled to breathe in again, back arching off the floor, feeling your torso meet with his as he still held himself above you, watching you obey his command. You tore at the edges of this invisible confine, eager to fight back and prove you were not so easily controlled as he seemed to have a hunch about.

He shook his head slowly above you, laughing in a low, tumbling, growl-like sound that nearly left your ears ringing. “Fight harder. Don’t put your walls up now when I am already inside.”

At this, you stuttered in your movement, trying to make it unnoticeable, but even after it happened you thought this was stupid, as he caught the very moment you faltered. He removed the hand that was pillowing your head and put it on your chest, pressing you back down onto the floor. It was impressively, and embarrassingly, easy for him to do so considering your own struggle against it. He kept his hand there, and whatever trance he had you under made you still at his touch. As much as you wanted to fight it, your body went completely unmoving under the pressure of one hand. 

“Enough…” You rasped out. “Just take what you wanted from here and go. You took our animals and hurt our people, was that not enough?”

Leon smiled in your face. It was simultaneously horrid and mocking as it was suggestive and flirtatious. “I told you already. All I wanted was the game.” He leaned in closer once more, bringing his face into the crook of your neck. You felt his breath paint your skin, and you felt a trail of shivers race down your body at it. While you were fighting against his hold, you were also fighting to get closer to it. The hand that was pressing into your chest snaked upward, and you felt the chill of his fingertips creep up your throat and onto your chin, holding your jawline in between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head to the side with the lightest of touches. You gasped at the movement, and your breath fluttered when his lips made contact. Your hands curled into fists at your side, inwardly wincing when you felt the pinch of needle-like teeth scraping the skin. His mouth came up to your ear, and the heat from his proximity filled your veins. “I am not leaving without the trophy.”

His teeth, sharp fangs like vampires, sunk into the tender flesh where your jaw connects to your skull, and you gasped, body finally able to move again, writhing against him on top of you, and it was as if he were injecting a venom into your bloodstream, you were hit with another wave of his mind control.

Any fear you had lingering turned to a burning lust. Dizziness ebbed and flowed throughout your limbs, the contact you had with Leon at any point of your bodies burned as if you touched a hot iron. Your hands were covered in pins and needles as they reached up and grabbed onto the thick bicep of the man over you, squeezing as hard as you could muster, but losing any feeling seconds later.

Leon detached himself from you and sat back on his knees; you tried to push yourself up to meet him but your body was utterly unresponsive. His lips were coated in your blood, a shade so dark you were stunned to assume it came from you at all. His eyes were shaded over completely, ice blue irises gave way to black voids, and visible blue veins spider-webbing across his neck and near his eyes. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, still soaked to the touch, and he glistened as he was backlit by the fire still burning, still heating you as if nothing were wrong.

He reached his hand out and grabbed your chin again, your eyes rolling back at the searing pleasure shooting through you at his mere touch. He tilted your head backward, and the lightheaded sensation returned. He held your face firmly rooted away from him, you were now completely turned away from him, left only the sensation of touch as he rooted his other hand up your leg from under your long skirt, settling himself in between your legs. 

Your hand came up to wrap itself around his wrist, needing something to stabilize yourself as he brought himself lower upon you once more. 

You felt him return to the side of your head. “The choice is yours. Will you be the trophy of my choosing or will you pick another to make the sacrifice?”

You breathed in as deeply as his trance would allow. Your vision continued to dart in and out, blinking feeling like a process that took whole minutes rather than seconds. Your hand slowly moved its way up his forearm, feeling the flex in the muscle as a response to your touch. That alone solidified it, him reacting to your actions below him was enough.

“It will be me.” Your words came out closer to puffs of air rather than a sound, but the clarity of the delivery was not what Leon was concerned with. “It must be.”

He hummed, turning into an almost carnal growl, before transforming into a deep bass you felt in your chest, making you feel as if your ears were sure to rupture. Your whole body vibrated along with his call, both of your hands clawed upward in an attempt to grasp onto any part of him. They found purchase on the frail cloth of his shirt, ripping holes you knew he was surely not to care about as you pulled him closer. He obeyed, and you felt the prick of his teeth on your neck once more as the weight of his body crashed on top of yours, feeding delicious pleasure when he ground himself into you, locking you in a dance of lust tinged with fear as you needed him closer, needed to feel him in every regard.

The hands of his that were trailing up your skirt ripped apart with a swift motion the thin leggings you had under to sleep in for warmth, feeling the cool air grace your skin as you were now burning from the physical heat and from the heat within. You felt his tongue trace patterns across your throat, and you almost thought he had ripped out your vocal chords and you were unaware–as no matter how intense it felt like you were sighing and moaning from his pleasure, you never uttered a sound.

Your head rolled to the side as the energy to keep your body rigid fled from you, with wave after wave of your own satisfaction mixed with the toying you knew he was doing to your brain. You felt like not yourself, yet when you felt his touch, it was the only thing you could focus on. The weight of Leon on top of you paired with his roaming hands, hands that felt cold from an unhuman skin, and exceptionally warm from the friction between you. 

He now had an arm under your leg, seating himself perfectly between your legs and pressing all of his weight onto you. You felt like prey in this moment, and you knew there would be no way out here.

“I fear that when I keep going I will have no control left to stop… but I am far to gone to pretend I can back out now.” His growl was ever present in your ears, hearing him beside your face as well as inside your head. His voice alone had your eyes rolling back into your skull, your hands losing grip where they sat on his thick arms and sturdy chest.

He swiftly scooped up your fallen wrists into his own hands, pinning you down to the floor, leaving you with no energy to try and fight his strength–but you knew in your mind you did not want to try this. Regardless of whatever spell of his that had you in a clouded state, that deep emotional awakening coming from within you was telling you now, as you were pinned underneath this man-monster, I will accept that this is my way to go.

Wearily, taking in every sensation there was to feel, you brought a hand up to grace the side of his head lovingly. He moved his head further up your body again, locking eyes with yours. You felt the swell of dizzying tides take you away, reveling in the heat that you felt his body throwing off.

You fluttered in and out of consciousness, seeing his mouth dripping crimson every time he came up for air from your neck and body. You could not tell what the temperature was in the room any longer. You registered in pieces his hands still roaming over you, the sounds of his human pleasure when he reveled in your body and thrust himself deep into you, your own mind being clouded from the lust emerging through your trance. You poked back to the surface at your own climax, nearly feeling weightless from the way Leon brought it to you. 

You let Leon have you. After all, you are who he chose.

–

It was on the rising dawn of the next morning you came back to the present. You were not in your home.

You could not move an inch, but your eyes were working normally past a thin layer of fog that you couldn’t differentiate if the source was your own vision or the atmosphere around you. The leaves and twigs poking through the ground went unfelt by you, and you were unsure if you were numb, or you had been there for so long that you no longer felt it.

In your haze, you saw a small movement out in the distance.

Leon’s voice reverberated through your head. “The extent of my heart and gratitude goes to you for allowing me to exist. I will repay your honor in my many years to come.” A blanket of warmth came down onto you, surely Leon’s doing, and an exhaustion took over your senses. You sighed.