Ally

“Group one, welcome aboard.” 

You picked up your carry-on and fished your boarding pass from your purse as you shuffled into line, clutching it tightly until you held it over the scanner with a beep. “Enjoy your trip,” the attendant said with a smile. You returned it with a thank-you and trekked through the boarding bridge until you were breathing the sweet, stale air of the cabin, thanking yourself for packing a hoodie as the conditioned air nipped your arms. After all, you didn’t need cold-weather clothes where you were going. 

You settled into your window seat and set your bag in the empty one next to you, kicking your feet in the ample leg room. First class seats. Your ex-boyfriend’s job really had really some perks. If only he’d shown you more upsides to being with him while you were together. 

You tried not to be sad that the middle seat was occupied by luggage instead of him. You should be nestling in arm-to-arm right now, flipping through travel brochures and deciding what movie to watch on the way, but instead, you were alone.

Hard to complain about a solo trip to the Maldives, though. You’re just glad he couldn’t refund the tickets. You’d get the last laugh, after all. 

“Excuse me, miss, you’re in my–”

Your heart stopped beating and dread filled your body as you looked up to find Leon with the same slack-jawed expression. He was thinking the same thought as you: no fucking way.

You could see his eyes turn red and his jaw clench as he threw his duffel bag in the overhead compartment, and then he returned to you, who was still watching in disbelief. 

He gestured to your luggage in the seat that was supposed to remain empty. “Can you at least move your shit?” 

All you could do was stare and guffaw. He rolled his eyes and grabbed it himself with a heavy pinch of attitude, throwing it alongside his own.

“Hey, be careful with that, my laptop’s in there,” you snapped, his harsh treatment willing you to speak. He ignored you and plopped down to sit. 

Both of your eyes were set on the headrest in front of you as the painfully awkward situation set in, but he was too close not to notice every little thing. His hands were clasped together to squeeze his biceps in, very clearly not wanting to brush arms with you. His breathing was heavy and you were sure he was irate. Just the slightest sound of his breath through his nose pissed you off.

Oh my god, I’m gonna be stuck here with him for hours, you realized, and then a whole five days on a remote island.

You hadn’t even left the boarding gate, and your vacation was already ruined. Not only that, but you were caught red-handed trying to go yourself.

“I didn’t think you were going to come,” you squeaked out.

“No shit,” he whispered harshly. “Non-refundable, remember?” 

“Yeah.”

It was excruciatingly awkward. Your hopes of dozing off until you landed were dashed by the palpable tension in the pressurized air, and each minute felt like an hour. He radiated so much anger and annoyance that you were surprised it didn’t set off the smoke detectors. You felt bad for the other first class passengers, because surely you were shattering the feeling of luxury for the whole section. 

You tried to think of a way out of it, but then you lifted off and the wheels retracted, and you were totally and completely stuck. You cursed the Wright brothers for inventing what was now your cruel enclosure. 

You rested your head against the window, looking out at the clouds below and succumbing to your fate. Five days with him, and then a flight home, too. It was supposed to be your anniversary. He’d booked a romantic cabin. You didn’t know if you’d survive. 

When you landed, he didn’t even take your bags down for you. He slung his over his shoulder and walked away. You stared daggers at his back as you yanked yours down. 

There was no reason not to be beside him, although you kept a minimum buffer of six feet between as you waited for your checked bags and the shuttle to the resort. It should’ve looked beautiful as you approached, the sun setting on the horizon and the palm trees in the wind, but it looked more like a prison. And then, you got to your cabin. 

One bed, of course. This was a couple’s cabin after all.

“Looks like you’re taking the couch,” Leon taunted and entered the room. You left your things by the door and quickly tailed him to argue.

“Absolutely not, are you kidding me?” 

“Who paid for this again?” he retorted with raised eyebrows and a tilt of his head. 

Your face was scrunching and burning with anger. Every ounce of chivalry he showed when you were together was clearly dead and gone. You couldn’t argue with his point, though.

“You’re a real asshole, Leon. You were planning on soaking this trip up on your own, same as me.”

“Now neither of us can, since you decided to take advantage of it.”

“Oh, take advantage? Like you took advantage of your missions to oggle at other girls?”

That shut him up. It was the reason you broke up. It cut through the tension and hung in the air like Damocles’ sword. He grumbled and picked his bag up again, leaving the room in a storm, not missing the chance to bump roughly against your shoulder on the way out. 

“Fine. You take it tonight, and then we’ll switch. Fair?”

“Fine.” You smirked with satisfaction as you moved into the room. We’ll see about that.

You closed the door and collapsed into the plush king-sized bed, letting yourself sink inside the fluffy comforters. You got up to unpack into the dresser, moving in with no intention of trading with him tomorrow, sighing as dusk took over the view outside the window. It really was beautiful here.

You made a decision: you were here, and the only thing that wasn’t perfect was your company. You’d do your absolute best to enjoy this trip in spite of him. Might even feel good to have him watch you being perfectly happy and blissful without him. 

You itched to wash the airplane germs off of your skin. That’s when you realized the first obstacle to your relaxation: you’d marked the bedroom as your territory, making the rest of the place effectively his. You flinched as you turned the doorknob and put on a smug expression as soon as you opened it. 

“I’m showering,” you announced as you beelined for the bathroom, not stopping to hear any response or even look at where he was. 

Your second mistake was not bringing your nightclothes along with you, which you only realized when you turned the water off. You pulled the towel tightly around you and did your best to hold your head high as you beelined back to the bedroom. You groaned after closing the door behind you. Relaxing was gonna be harder than you thought. 

Even more so when you got ready the next morning and remembered you’d exclusively packed your hottest, most flattering, boner-inducing bikinis in the hopes of having a steamy vacation rendezvous with a well-off stranger that’d make even the best romance authors bow before you. Maybe you still could, but Leon would be the primary individual who saw you wearing them. But you certainly weren’t bringing any bachelors back to your place. Leon’s bad attitude in the living room would scare them off if you even found the balls to try. 

Whatever. This was your vacation, not his. Might feel good to know he sees all the heads you turn. Rub it in his face that you’re available to every man but him.

You wrap a skirt around you— not that it covers much, it’s more of an accessory— and leave your room. 

Breakfast is on the stove, and Leon isn’t around. You shrug and grab a plate, filling it with room temperature eggs as you wait for bread to crisp in the toaster.

You lean back on the counter and take in the place you’re staying at. Tall windows with plenty of natural light shining onto the luxurious furniture and reflecting off the glass frames that house tasteful artwork on the walls. A fully stocked kitchen and hardwood floors that are begging to be covered in sand as evidence of your enjoyment. Everything so clean it practically sparkles. It’s not huge, but it’s nice. Really, really nice. 

It would’ve been so much nicer if you were here for the intended purpose, if you weren’t newly single, if your ex wasn’t lurking around and was wrapping his arms around you instead, before your breakup transformed him into a raging dick.

The toaster pops and you take your plate to the table. You look at the sofa in the living room and see the tousled throw pillows and the lingering shape of his body still inlayed in the upholstery.

You look up at the sound of him entering from the bathroom wearing nothing but swim shorts. You quickly mind your business and look down to your next bite of food. You know what his body looks like, you don’t need to stare. You definitely don’t want a reason to add his rippling pecs and washboard abs to the things you should’ve been enjoying here. 

Leon gazes at the stove as he passes through the kitchen on his way to his makeshift bed. “I see you helped yourself.”

“Yup. Went cold, though.” A hidden double meaning.

He raised a brow as he sat down on the couch, picking up the pamphlet on the coffee table. “You’re welcome for making enough for you.” 

You sighed and leaned back in the dining chair as you swallowed. “I think we’d both appreciate not spending the week fighting. Can you do that?” 

“Easy, we’re sure off to a great start.” Dripping with sarcasm. 

He was really getting under your skin now. You rubbed your palms into your eyes and picked up your empty plate to throw it in the kitchen before grabbing your totebag of beachside essentials.

“Whatever, Leon. I’m going to enjoy myself regardless. See you around.” 

He was very much distracted by your ass moving under your very small bikini as you walked out the door. He blinked to snap back to reality.

“Don’t charge your drinks to the room,” he called after you. You were far enough away that you could pretend not to hear. A drink was a great idea. Who cares that it’s still morning? You’re on vacation. 

You really did enjoy yourself. You spent a good while walking around and exploring the resort, and you had absolutely zero complaints. The ocean glittered all around you, an inviting clear blue, you even saw some cute little fishes swimming under the piered walkway. You took a menu from the day spa and decided you’d absolutely book the sauna at some point. The main bar was empty of people, but you couldn’t wait to see it at night. It was kinda fun to roam around and pretend you could afford to be here on your own. 

You’d killed an hour and a half and decided to head for the beach. The sun was rising towards noon and was starting to draw sweat from your skin, which made a cocktail sound better than ever. You hummed as your toes met the cool white sand and sauntered over to the beachside bar, all smiles as you relaxed onto the stool and ordered whatever sounded the most refreshing. The tender stopped you before you left with it to ask if you reserved a beach chair.

“Oh, I didn’t know they had to be reserved.”

“They’re all booked up for today. What’s your room number? I can double check if you have one?”

“Sure, thank you.” You sipped through the straw as they clicked on a tablet, until they shared the good news. It’d been reserved in advance as part of the package. “Amazing, thank you!” 

You giddy stride as your day got off to a good start was cut short as you approached the chairs. It was just like the airplane, but now Leon had beaten you there. You had half a mind to turn heel until you remembered your goal not to let him rain on your sunny day. 

You sat down with a huff, ignoring the way he looked over from under his sunglasses. You pulled out your book and settled in, cocktail still in hand, nestled under the shade of the wide umbrella above. 

“Enjoying yourself?” 

“Yeah, I am,” he replied. 

You wanted to keep it civil, and the tense small talk was a start, but you just couldn’t bite your tongue, could you?

“I figured, plenty of girls in bikinis to keep you entertained.”

He looked up as he started ranting, waving his hands towards the sky like he was talking to god and not you sitting next to him. You closed the book you hadn’t even began as you watched him.

“I told you it wasn’t like that, jesus christ. I didn’t lie to you, I didn’t cheat on you, I don’t know how you expect me to prove a negative.”

You nodded slowly. “Sure fooled me. Guess you’re not even sorry anymore.”

He sighed and covered his hands with his face. He wasn’t lying, but explaining himself was just as impossible now as it’d been in the days-long argument before he threw in the towel, which in your eyes just confirmed that he’d exchanged you for another and used the argument as an excuse to drop the burden of being taken. He regretted the decision after, knowing it was driven by emotional impulse in the heat of an argument, and was ultimately the cowardly way out. The way you accepted it and left in a string of insults solidified it as a lasting choice. It made you certain that he’d actually done something wrong, and that frustrated him worst of all, especially as it was thrown back in his face. 

But what was he to do? Try to get you back? He was the one who broke up with you, and the door back in was barricaded shut. 

When you stood up and took off your skirt before announcing you’d go for a swim, unwrapping your body so close to him that he could smack your ass if he wanted, he decided he had to try. God bless polarized shades for assuring him you wouldn’t be able to see him watch you strut all the way into the water if you’d looked back. 

He grumbled as you plunged below the surface, wetting your hair and reemerging like a siren. He reclined back and closed his eyes, pulling his knees up a bit to hide the tent that was forming in his shorts. 

When you got out of the water, his chair was empty, and it remained so for the rest of the many hours you spent cozied up with your book and the melting ice in your cocktail. It was hard to focus on reading, though, as your thoughts always went back to the words he’d said.

There was still a part of you that ached to believe him, that wished it never happened and you could pick back up where you were. But he was the one who broke up with you. He didn’t want you. It wouldn’t be any closure to believe him because then you’d have to mourn a relationship that ended over nothing. 

The sun on the outside and the alcohol on the inside pulled you into drowsiness, and the breeze lulled you to sleep. 

You woke up with a start and rummaged through your tote bag for your phone. It was four in the afternoon. You’d totally slept through lunch, and now you were starving. 

You rubbed the sleep off your face and decided to take another dip, letting the water wake you up, giving you enough energy to walk back to your abode. You thought Leon might be out until you saw the back patio doors were left open and you poked your head through to see him sitting on the edge, kicking his feet in the water as he looked out in the distance. 

He hadn’t noticed you were there yet, and you couldn’t help but watch him. God, his back muscles were so hot. You walked back in to avert yourself. 

“I’m back,” you called from the living room. He turned his head to see you. You sat on the carpet and stretched a little bit, enjoying the fresh air pooling inside.

“Hey,” he said, and gazed back ahead. 

You furrowed your brow. He sounded kinda sad. Dejected maybe? Gloomy. It made you feel bad, because if he was, you definitely caused it. You just couldn’t help yourself. You paused and pursed your lips.

“I’m sorry for–”

“Don’t,” he interrupted. “It’s fine. I’m an asshole, I know.”

You inhaled to say something sharp, but he cut you off again. “No, I mean it. I’m not just saying it ‘cause that’s how you see me.” 

You rocked on the ground, a puzzled expression on your face. It was the closest thing to an apology that you’d gotten so far, and remorse was the last thing you expected to come back here and find. You thought he had more to say, but he must have decided against it, because he stood and walked past you to the bathroom, leaving you alone and kinda confused. 

Whatever. You didn’t have to help him with his emotions anymore. He’d relieved you of the job. You leaned forward and grabbed the pamphlet from the coffee table, looking for your restaurant options. 

You felt a little weird as you sat alone at your table for two. You’d idly scanned around for wealthy benefactors, but they all had a well-dressed lady on their arm or a gold band on their finger. And none looked anywhere near as good as the man who was back in your room. 

You rested your chin in your hand as you stared out at the amber sunset on the ebbing expanse of the ocean. The candle on your table flickered and birds chirped as they flew towards their nests for the night. Your food arrived and you dug in, then left cash on the table so you didn’t spend more time waiting around in silence. 

You returned to find Leon kicked back on your bed, scrolling on his phone with his legs crossed. There goes your calm mood.

“Oh, hey. Food any good?”

“Are you seriously gonna make me sleep on the couch?”

He shrugged and didn’t look up. “You agreed. I swapped the blankets for you.”

“Unbelievable,” you muttered as you swiped up your necessities from the dresser and the bedside. 

“If you really want to sleep here, we can share.”

“You wish, asshole.”

You closed the door behind you and fell into the couch. It felt like concrete compared to the bed. 

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of clinking dishes and pressed the pillow over your ears with a groan.

“Morning sunshine,” you heard him mock through the pillow feathers. That was enough to ensure you woke up on the wrong side of the sofa. 

It was all grumbles and slammed doors as you got yourself ready. You dragged your blanket back to the bed and returned his to the couch dramatically. And then, the daunting task of getting dressed.

Your hands hovered over a cherry red bikini with a smirk. That was one way to get under his skin. 

You sauntered out of the room like you were unaffected by the sour start to the day. Sure, you could’ve put clothes on over your bikini for now, but where was the fun in that?

Leon, however, was made of glass. It was all too obvious the way his neck craned as he watched and his mouth ever-so-slightly parted. 

You grabbed the sunscreen from the entryway and stepped onto the back patio, keeping the doors open as you covered your body in the sheer, glossy mist. You took your sweet time rubbing it in, literally and definitely figuratively. It was important to get in every nook and cranny, wasn’t it? You made sure you didn’t miss a spot, gliding your fingers an inch under the fabric in case it moved around. 

You suddenly looked back up to catch Leon staring. He was caught red-handed and stuttered in a thin attempt to act like he wasn’t looking. You shook the canister in your hand.

“You need some?”

“Um, uh, yeah.”

He walked over to you all too quickly, acting like a desperate schoolboy. You smirked as he stood in front of you with visible nervousness, waiting. 

“Here ya go.” 

You shoved the sunscreen into his chest and walked away, leaving him there to die. 

As you pulled orange juice from the fridge, you heard him scoff, and then the quiet sound of the spray. You didn’t watch. No way you’d make the same mistake he just did. 

He set it firmly down on the kitchen counter as you sipped from your glass. 

“That was cruel.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You flashed a smile so sweet it could’ve rot his teeth. He shook his head and gathered his things from the entryway. Sunglasses, sandals, other things in already in his tote (one you definitely bought for him).

“I’m hitting the beach. You coming?”

You grabbed the sunscreen and followed. “Sure.” 

The tension was better now that you felt like you had the upper hand. You were actually able to read your book as the waves and bristling palm fronds sang a sweet white noise around you. Leon reclined his seat back to lay down, hands resting behind his head as he soaked up the shade, his earphones acting as a room divider between you. It really wasn’t half bad. 

Before long it was time for lunch. You decided to avoid another unplanned nap and led the way back, being certain to put your hips into your walk as he followed slowly behind. The minute the door closed behind you, the easy vibes were over. 

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“Is it working?”

But instead of Leon walking away in a huff of frustration or returning a sarcastic jab, something in his gaze darkened in a way that made you feel almost scared. He took measured steps towards you until he was close enough that you stepped back to keep the distance, like he was closing in on his prey.

“You’ve been nothing but a bitch to me this whole trip, acting like you hate me,” he said, voice low and husky, looking at you from under his brow.

“I do hate you.” 

You wished it sounded more confident as you tried to match his serious expression. The back of your thighs hit the sofa’s armrest and you gripped it to keep balance, trying to appear as if you were half-sitting on it casually, as if you weren’t just there because he’d cornered you.

“Then why are you acting like you want something?” 

You inhaled sharply as he leaned over you, his hands on either side of the armrest, caging you in, so close you had to lean back. 

Shit, maybe you’d gone too far. You looked back and forth between his eyes as you tried to get a grip on the situation and where it was going. You should’ve thought your teasing through. 

He cocked his head mockingly. “Where’s all that venom now, babe?” He raised an index finger to curl under the string of your bikini that rested between your breasts, pulling it away from your skin and letting it go with a snap that stole your breath. “Y’don’t seem to be talking back now, huh?”

The air went thick as you held his eye contact. A smirk bloomed on his face. And then you were flying backwards onto the couch, and he crawled right over with you. 

He was fervent and hungry, devouring your lips with wet, open mouthed kisses that were all tongue and spit. If you had ownership over your mouth you would’ve gasped, but you were struggling for air. You held onto his arms and felt the warm, stiff muscles of his biceps flexing in your grip, making you squeeze them tighter without even meaning to. 

You also didn’t mean to arch your back, sending your hips curling against his hard dick in his boxers. You took in the much-needed oxygen as he unlatched from your lips, instead nipping and sucking the skin under your jaw, making him chuckle before he pressed his body closer into you, grinding against your bikini-clad center. 

“Your mouth is much better used for this than all that smart talk,” he said as he put two fingers into your open mouth. You knit your brows as your tongue instinctively met the salty pads of his fingertips, and he pushed them further in response. The meat of his palm lightly pushed up from under your chin as he made a blunt command. “Suck.”

You held back from moaning around his digits as he grinded into you with more precision, feeling the wetness begin to seep out under the friction of your bikini as he rubbed himself against your clothed clit. Your head was spinning and you were lost in a daze as he slowly drew his fingers in and out of the vacuum of your mouth. Your eyes flitted open as he rolled his hips with intoxicatingly slow intention, and you found him staring down at you with cruel amusement. 

You turned your head and all but spat his fingers out, pushing your hands against his pecs to get him off, but you didn’t try all that hard, really. You looked away from him in embarrassment. 

“Get off of me, Leon.” 

He pressed his cock against you firmly, keeping it there, ceasing his movements. Your body betrayed you as your hips twitched in search of movement. 

“You sure that’s what you want?” He pressed in a little further and you swore you felt him throb against you. Or maybe it was your own sex that was throbbing. You weren’t gonna think about it enough to find out. You couldn’t think about anything when he leaned in and toyed with the hem of your top and took your legs tensing around him as permission to pull it down and latch onto your nipple.

“Oh,” you moaned in surprise at the sensation. It felt like ages since you’d been touched like this, or at all. His tongue slipped around your nipple in crude, soft circles. When he sucked it up into his mouth, he moaned around it, and the vibration sent an electric currents straight to your pulsing cunt. When he pulled off with a wet pop and started flicking up and down over it, you had to put all your effort into not writhing needily under him. 

“Could do this somewhere else on you,” he mumbled before sucking and twirling his tongue again. 

You felt like you were losing your mind. You needed to get a grip before you completely lost sight of your resolve. This was already miles beyond a bad idea; letting him go further would be insane. You really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, even as his hand brushed your stomach and traveled downward towards your navel. Especially then. 

You pushed against his chest with a lot more purpose. “I said get off of me.”

He did, leaning back on his haunches, one knee in between your legs and another on the ground, arms up in a mock surrender. 

“Whatever you say, babe.”

You scrambled to rise, yanking your bikini back in place and running your fingers sharply through your hair before you hightailed it towards the bedroom, face red and still out of breath.

“You’re a fucking pervert, Leon. Stay the hell away from me.” You knew he was smiling as you slammed the door behind you. 

You felt gross. You could still feel his saliva coating your hard nipple under your top, could still feel his body heat on you. Worse, you were so turned on you felt dizzy. You changed out of your bikini to get the evidence off of you. You paused in horror as your bottoms were mid-thigh, heart hammering as you saw the thick, creamy evidence of your arousal. You bunched them up and threw them in the corner to get them as far away from you as possible, as if that’d separate you from the feelings in your body. 

You shouldn’t have let him get that far, not even close to it. And you’d let him get so close to giving you more. Thank god you stopped him so he wouldn’t discover how wet a little dry humping had made you. 

You threw on a fresh pair of underwear, the least sexy ones you’d packed, and pulled on a t-shirt and shorts. You threw your hair up in a clip and stormed out, kicking your sandals on while you were halfway out the door. 

“Where ya going?” 

“Out,” you barked as you fumbled to step into your stupid non-cooperative shoes. 

“Where to?”

“Away from you,” you turned to nearly shout as you finally got them on, and then you were off, hands in fists at your side as you walked towards you-didn’t-know-where. 

You walked past the guest services building and past the bars and restaurants. You thought about stopping for food, but you’d lost your appetite now, and you didn’t want to sit out in the open where he might find you. A sign pointed towards a different shore than you’d been going to, so you followed it. A five-minute walk and your sandals met sand, and you just kept walking, putting as much distance between you and Leon as possible.

The effort of walking through soft sand in the beating afternoon sunshine forced you to finally slow down. The rigidity of your body from your wired nervous system was replaced by the soreness of your calves and the sweat you wiped from your forehead, forcing you to relax to conserve your energy, or at least focus on your body and not your racing thoughts. You should’ve brought the sunscreen, and you stepped under the shade of the palms that line the far side of the shore. Eventually, you reached the end of the beach where it curved into a small peninsula and sat down under a tree. 

You were physically more relaxed, but as you gazed out at the water, your head was filled with the angry white noise of cement crushers and destructive heavy machinery loudly whirring and clanking. Your mind was a demolition zone as you grappled with frustration and confusion and the stupid, undeniable want that still throbbed between your legs.

You wished you brought your phone, but you’d left it in your beach bag. You could really benefit from phoning a friend right now. But what did you hope to hear? That you should kick him out somehow, or you should give him another shot, even if it’s just for hot vacation sex? You wished you could do both, and it made you want to rip your hair out. 

You stayed there for a long while, until you calmed down enough to enjoy the scenery again, and decided it was best to avoid him altogether. Then you’d have less opportunities to speak and wouldn’t risk seeing the results of your provocations again, and you wouldn’t have to worry about anything happening or not. 

When you got back, he made that hard. He had takeout sitting on the counter next to an unopened bottle of wine. The very kind you liked.

“What is this, an apology?” you muttered to yourself as you inspected the label. You grabbed a fork and a glass, took it all to your room, and ate cross-legged on the bed with your laptop open playing your comfort show. You were glad for the large windows, because even holed up inside, you didn’t miss out on the tropic amber sunset. 

The wine didn’t help your thoughts, though. You were a touch dehydrated from your long walk, and one glass hit harder than it should’ve. You set the container of food down on the bedside table and curled into the sheets, arms wrapped around yourself. You weren’t trying to sleep, just waiting to be less tipsy. 

Unfortunately, the sheets now smelled of him. Faint enough not to be overpowering, apparent enough to be constant. Pine and balmy musk, with a small hint of sharp spice. Distinctive and comfortingly familiar. The scent you used to savor on all his stolen hoodies, and steal the shampoo in his shower to take a part of him home in your hair. 

The image of what happened earlier that day flashed behind your eyelids. You groaned in ire and pressed your thighs together. You flicked off the lamp, kicked your shorts to the floor, and ignored it until you slept. 

You woke up. Day three. Two more days and you’d be on a flight home and could forget this ever happened. 

But now your problems had doubled. Leon made himself impossible to escape. He stood in your way intentionally, forcing you to stand way closer to him than you wanted to before he moved, acting like he just wasn’t paying attention. He beat you to lunch plans, ordering food to the room, but of course he didn’t tell you that until you were just about to get ready to find a meal on your own, so you were stuck waiting in the room with him because for half an hour it’d be there “any minute”. And the bastard booked you both the sauna that night. Son of a bitch found the spa menu you took and knew you well enough to guess what you most wanted. 

“I’ll pass.”

“Oh come on, I already paid for you. You didn’t pass up wasting my money to go on this trip, don’t start wasting it now.” 

“Eat a dick,” you replied, but you were already moving to get changed.

The sauna was woefully small. You sat across from him but had to keep your legs in so they wouldn’t touch his. You had a full view of his cut figure as he rested his arms across the top of the seat and his jawline as it tipped back in relaxation. You closed your eyes and breathed in the steam as it filled the bamboo room, trying to relax and not regret agreeing to be here. But your worst mistake this trip, and maybe your entire life, was picking a brand new white bikini to wear. 

“You really aren’t subtle,” he said, making your eyes slowly open in question.

“Excuse me?” 

“I thought the red bikini was hot, but this one takes the cake.”

You followed his eyes to look down at yourself. 

Oh no. No, no, no, this can’t be happening to me right now, you thought as you saw the dampened fabric that was once opaque cling like a second skin, clearly showing the outline and hue of your nipples on the top, and creasing along your folds on the bottom. Your knees banged together as you closed them and you crossed your arms against your chest, embarrassed beyond saving. He giggled as he watched, like it was the cutest joke he’d ever heard. 

“How long were you staring before you told me?!” You cursed yourself for shopping online and not reading the reviews. 

Leon shrugged. “C’mon, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before. I saw them just yesterday.” 

You reached out a foot to kick him as your face grew hot. He’d seen your body in grotesque displays of nakedness, yeah, but you hadn’t planned on this. In fact, you were planning on never showing your naked body to him ever again. 

With sympathy, he looked around at the sauna and listened for anyone outside. 

“There’s no cameras in here, you’re fine. I’m right by the door, I won’t let anyone come in.”

You relaxed just a touch, but not enough to expose yourself. He scoffed disbelievingly at your shyness. 

“Would it make you feel better if I took my shorts off? Then you’d be the most modest one in–”

“Shut up.”

“It’s a sauna, you’re allowed to be naked.” 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” you sneered.

He looked you up and down and you noticed he definitely had a bulge growing. “So what if I did?”

“‘So what?’ ‘So,’ you broke up with me, Leon. ‘So,’ you don’t get to paw at me like a horny teenage boy anymore.” 

“You sure liked it yesterday.”

You turned in an attempt to face away from the truth in his statement, which only egged him on. 

“My offer still stands.”

“What offer?”

“To do the thing you like with my tongue somewhere better than your tits.”

He leaned forward and the humidity billowed around him like smoke. From the corner of your eye you could see the moisture sticking to him, dampening his hair into a darker shade of brown, every crevice of muscle shining like he was oil slick in the low light. 

You breathed out your thoughts. “You are so vulgar.”

You inhaled shakily as he sank down to his knees. “You didn’t say no.”

“I’m not gonna fuck you, Leon, and definitely not here,” you pleaded. But it fell on deaf ears as his big hands took hold of your knees and slowly pulled them apart. His eyes were blown as he looked up at you between kisses up your inner thighs.

“You don’t gotta fuck me,” he cooed between each soft peck, “just let me eat you out. Don’t gotta return the favor.” 

He bit softly at the crease at the fork of your thigh and your cunt, making you gasp and twitch towards him, your legs spreading on their own and giving him just enough room to thumb under the hem.

“Hey,” he said lowly, interrupting your focus on squeezing your eyes shut. He looked up at you through the mist, his face inches away from you. “Lift your hips for me.”

You uncovered your chest and lifted yourself up, turning a blind eye to the way he hummed at the sight of your breasts before pulling your bottoms down to dangle around one ankle. You sat yourself back down closer to the edge so he could access you, and leaned back to accept your decision. He was already spreading you apart in his hands like he was marvelling at the sight. 

There was no use in protesting now. You’d given in to him. The promise of an orgasm was too enticing to resist, because you knew how skillfully he’d get you there.

He slowly dragged his velvety tongue up your folds, letting it flatten on your clit before he flicked it back into his mouth with a bite of his lower lip and a furrow in his brow, like he just got a taste of the finest thing on earth and he was ready to dig in. Then he did it again, saliva pooling in his wake, adding to the sap that was escaping from your entrance. 

It was getting hard to breathe through the steam, and you felt hot and dizzy all over. Each time he passed over your clit, your thigh twitched in his hands and left you desperate for more as he started all over again, excruciatingly slow. 

“Stop teasing.” 

“M’not,” he licked again, “just enjoying myself.”

“Thought this was for me, not you.”

“Hmm-mm,” he hummed the negative into you, “just said you didn’t have to get me off. Can get myself off just from this.” 

Your jaw went slack at the sight of him pushing down his swim trunks to pull his cock free. He was already rock hard and leaking just from this. He pumped himself slowly, hands twisting to gather the leaking pre-cum at the tip, and rubbing it all the way back down. 

He could be such a perv sometimes, needing it everywhere and anywhere. You wished it wasn’t so hot of him so you could close your eyes and imagine it was anyone else, but he looked way too good not to watch. 

You arched your back, pushing your hips into his puffy mouth. He moaned just from that, gruff and unashamed of what he was doing and where. His arm flexed as he stroked himself faster as he pushed his face into your cunt, his tongue burying itself and fucking into you crudely. He shook his head from side to side and his nose rubbing against your clit made you moan a little louder than you should’ve. 

He planted a kiss onto the sensitive bud. “Maybe I should stop, ‘know you can’t be quiet to save your life.”

You grabbed his hair and pulled those smiling lips back in. “I can be quiet, ahhh… you just, make it hard.”

“Oh yeah?”

He and his goddamn tactical precision, tongue finding your clit like a heat seaking missle. He caught your eye contact as he moved it back and forth until you were ready to combust. 

Your breath hitched and you whispered a string of swears as he returned with purpose. “Leon, fuck… gonna make me cum, please.”

He went even faster, head all but thrashing to add to his speed. He pushed a finger inside with no precursor or warning. He curled it against your walls and that was all it took for stars to explode in your vision.

You whined and ground into his face as you came, nerves sparking and sizzling with electricity as your muscles seized and jittered towards his thirsty mouth that slurped every drop with wet and embarrassing sounds. He never showed any mercy when you came; his eagerness to taste you only ever drove him to a faster, deliciously sloppy speed, regardless of how it sent you reeling towards overstimulation. 

Your thighs clamped down around his face and you tried to push him away by the forehead, but by the looks of his heaving back and arm pumping at breakneck speed, it wouldn’t be over until he was done. 

But then he suddenly stopped, grunting and shaking as he lay his head on your thigh and squeezed the base of his cock. “I can’t cum here...” Clearly he was overheating, too. “Let me give you another, baby.”

“M’not your baby,” you huffed. 

You winced as he stuck his tongue out to lick your sensitive folds once more. “I could cum here.” 

The idea stole your breath away. Getting eaten out in a sauna was one thing (and was already pushing it, frankly), so there was no way in hell you’d let him creampie you here. 

“That’s such a bad idea, Leon. It’d still be way too messy.”

He kissed up your body– taking special pause over your boobs, of course– until he was sucking at your neck. Slowly, his hand moved up and down his shaft again, the tip pressed into your inner thigh, which you had full view of as a bead of precum leaked out and smeared against the point of contact.

He spoke directly into your ear. “Could just eat you out again to clean it up. I’ll make it real good for you, promise. Just the tip?”

You held onto his shoulders as you quivered, and you looked down to see him not-so-subtly inching his dick closer to your entrance. Right now, you wanted it, you really did. To feel his girth fill you up, his length hammer against your g-spot, watch him fuck into you like he didn’t care who saw. 

“J-just the tip. Only the tip.” He lined himself up, both of you looking down to see his head slip up and down your sopping hole. “Promise me.” He didn’t respond as he pressed it inside. “Leon, I’m so serious, don’t ahh, go any further, and don’t you dare cum in me.” 

It drove you crazy the way he whined in a pitch too high to believe that he produced it. And that was his only reply. 

He shallowly fucked you, holding your legs up around his waist as it glided in and out. You were surely leaving fingernail marks on his shoulders with how you held onto him, but it was the only way you could keep yourself from obeying your desperate pussy that fluttered in its desire to draw him further in. 

“Feel so good, sweetheart. So fucking tight for me.” His tip was fully disappearing inside of you now, and maybe a centimeter more. “You fuck anyone since we broke up? Or you kept it just for me?” 

You trembled as you watched him test his limits, seeing just how much more he could add before you stopped him, whispering such filthy things in the hope of obliterating your composure. 

And the truth of it was that you hadn’t slept with anyone new. Leon was pretty blessed down there, and you highly doubted you’d win the luck of a draw if you had a one-night stand. It was an objective reality, not a matter of yearning, that you thought a random guy wouldn’t come close to comparing. So you didn’t even try. 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t a rhetorical question. “Tell me, I wanna know. How many guys have you fucked since you’ve been gone?”  

Your chest burned, but you answered in a squeak. “N-none.”

The truth was a bad answer. You should’ve said a hundred, or said that you met a guy with a giant penis who made Leon’s look like a marble. But you told the truth and his eyes lit up with that wicked, smug-faced smile. He thrust a little further in.

“Leon stop, you’re going too deep, you said–” 

“That was before I knew how much she missed me. Fuck, can’t believe you saved it for me… I didn’t fuck anyone else either, never want another pussy. Look at her grip me, baby, look how wet you’re making my cock.”

You looked and really shouldn’t have because it was a filthy sight, and the blame was spread equally between you. You huffed as your body opened up, and he drove his hips forward harder, distracting you from how he abandoned his initial proposition by yanking your top down to grope at your tits. Your eyes rolled back as he twisted your nipples and he captured your mouth with his own, knowing you were on the brink of being way too loud again, muffling your sounds with his tongue as he sped up and bottomed out. 

He couldn’t go too fast or else the sound of slapping skin would give away what you were doing, and it kept you right on the edge, teetering towards another orgasm like a tight rope walk. 

“C’mon, give me another, fuck I can feel how close you are.”

His words made the knot tighten and tighten until it was nearly about to snap. 

Then, the timer went off. 

“Shit, shit,” he muttered as he clamored to pull out and bring his shorts up. He watched the door and blindly tugged your bottoms up to your knee to help you in your own flurry to recover yourself. 

The minute you both stood, the door opened and a woman in black scrubs greeted you with a smile. You both froze like you were at attention, flashing your most convincing grins as she chimed, “time’s up! Did you enjoy yourselves?”

Leon rushed to speak and if your heart wasn’t pounding against your ribcage so bad it hurt, you would’ve laughed at his hands clasped in front of him to hold down his hard on. 

“Absolutely! Could we get some towels?”

As soon as she turned around, Leon yanked the door closed again and turned around to tie his drawstrings. You gave yourself another once over as you scolded him as sharply as you possibly could in a whisper.

“I told you that was a bad idea, I fucking told you, are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled as he palmed his cock like it’d deflate. 

“Don’t tell me to–”

The door opened again and you both snapped back to niceties. Leon thanked her and grabbed them, tossing one to you as he rushed to pull his around his waist. 

“I’ll give you two a minute. I’ll wait in the hall,” the woman said, leaving the sauna door open as she left. 

You bumped into Leon rudely as you stepped out of the steam and into the air conditioning, rubbing your face with the towel and pressing it into your swimsuit to absorb the excess moisture in hopes it’d return to its dry opacity. He walked out a moment later looking criminally unphased. 

“It’s fine, she doesn’t know, I’m sure they see that all the time.”

You clutched the towel to your chest as you turned to him. “That doesn’t mean we should risk getting caught. What if she does know? What if they kick us out?”

He rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall. “Then they would’ve kicked us out. They didn’t, so relax.” 

You bit your cheeks as your face twisted up, wanting to snap again. He probably thought you had nothing to come back with, but you had plenty. What made it hard to talk was how good he looked flushed and wet, chest still rising and falling with the remaining breathlessness, skin glossy with steam and sweat, muscles pumped and defined from his labors. You gumbled and looked for your clothes. “You’re so stupid, seriously.”

“Keep yelling at me, it’s helping me go soft.”

You threw your towel right in his face and tugged your shorts on with difficulty as your own damp skin clung to the cotton. 

You stormed ahead with heavy steps pounding on the boardwalk as you rushed to get back to privacy. You let the door close behind you and heard him stop it from slamming in his face.

“Don’t be like that, you liked it.”

You were in a full on rage, pacing around aimlessly, arms waving in vexation. “Fuck you, Leon, seriously. I cannot believe how reckless you are, you have no consideration for anything but getting your rocks off.”

“You calling me a selfish lover? I remember it starting by getting you off.” 

“Because you started it. You got on your knees and begged for it. It was your idea.”

He wasn’t put off by your little stormcloud at all. In fact, he was smoothly approaching you. You scoffed and pushed him away, but he followed at your heel to the bedroom. 

“What are you even doing?” he said as he watched you enter. 

You held the door and tried to close it, but he was standing in the way.

“Oh,” you laughed, “don’t even think I’m taking the couch tonight. If anyone’s ever deserved to sleep on the couch, it’s you.” 

“You can take the bed tonight,” he shrugged cooly.

You blinked and rolled your eyes, leaving him standing in the doorway as you tried to find something in the room to act like you came in there for. You settled on pulling your hair and sitting on the bed, and you sighed in relief as he left.

But it wasn’t for long, because he returned with his blanket and tossed it on the foot.

“What are you doing?” you asked, only slightly simmered down after a moment to collect yourself. 

“You can sleep in the bed, but it’s still my night, so I’m sleeping here too.” 

“Like hell you are.”

“I don’t know why you’re so resistant,” he started as he walked around to be in front of you. “Clearly you want me, too. I mean, come on, letting me put the tip in?”

You shut your eyes as he stood over you, shaking your head in frustration at yourself as much as him, because he was ultimately correct. You felt his shadow cover you as he closed in. A shiver went down your core as his voice deepened close to you. 

“We both know you want it, so let me finish what I started.” His hands trepidatiously swept up and down your thighs, and you hated how turned on you still were. You got so close to release before it ended so abruptly. “I’ll make it up to you, promise. I’ll be nice, I won’t bother you. I’ll make you cum until you’ve had your fill and then I’ll leave you be.” 

Your eyes fluttered open and you watched your legs part again. You’d gone this far. He’d already fucked you, and despite your hot temper, he wanted to again. No use in not getting yours now.

You yanked him by the nape of the neck and connected in a searing kiss. He groaned as your hands tightened painfully in his hair and crawled on top of you, pushing you back onto the bed as he started fumbling with your shorts. 

You opened your tongue to him as you raised your hips, letting him remove your shorts and bikini bottom in one fell swoop. He threw them somewhere behind him and returned to your top, reaching behind you to untie the strings and letting it fall out of place to expose you. You didn’t hide this time, and he relished in it even more, moaning at the sight of you coming undone before he pushed it all aside to grab and suck on your tits again. 

You arched in search of his body heat and he eagerly provided it, grinding his hips into you once before deciding he couldn’t take feeling you through clothing a second longer. His mouth trailed down until he landed sloppy kisses against your cunt, sucking and lapping only a few times before he crawled over you again with a groan. 

He smacked your still-sensitive clit as he stared down at you, lining himself up with a taunt. 

“This what you need to feel better? Need my cock to stop your bitching?”

He thrust inside to cut off the possibility of further balk talk. You gasped at the feeling, already gone tight again in the time between the sauna and here, the friction of your walls grabbing at him as he entered. He hardly drew back before pushing in again, settling onto his forearms while he stayed flush to the hilt. Only then did he start a steady rock of his hips, bluntly coming down with force that made you cry out. 

“You love taking this dick, don’t you? Just look at you, baby, already a fucking mess. You hear how wet you are? ‘Cause I can feel it.”

“Stop talking,” you whined, wrapping an arm around his back and threading your fingers through his hair.

“Mmm, you love my dirty mouth. You think I forgot what my girl likes? Think I don’t jerk off to the thought of giving it to you every night?” 

He was right; you did love it. Every knock against your cervix was a thought-terminating cliché, and the filth paired with graphic confessions and the words ‘my girl’ made your head swim even more. And the the confession that made the earth tilt on its axis:

“Think I don’t still love you? Because I do.”

You felt it bloom and burst in your chest, though you couldn’t form words to reciprocate. He was everywhere: his warmth all around you, solid muscles and smooth flesh, the woodsy scent of his skin peppered with the tart musk of sauna sweat. The soft edges of his hair brushed against your face as they swayed with his hammering pace. All the little things you’d tried to get over and fought so hard not to miss, all the reasons you’d treated him poorly to push the yearning away. 

“You should be thanking me after what a pain you’ve been,” he muttered the taunts against your neck and traced your pulse point with his tongue. “Shouldn’t be fucking you at all, but you just needed it so bad.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you breathed, not a trace of conviction in it.

He held you by the pit of your knee to drive in at a deeper angle, building momentum to go faster and faster. 

“You love it.”

“I– oh– hate you…” 

“Keep telling yourself that, babe. You love this dick a whole lot more.”

Your eyes rolled back as he gritted his teeth and hammered in, firmly holding you in his bulky arms as his navel slapped against you, and his cock smacked against your sweet spot. Pornographic sounds echoed in the room and the sheets were undoubtedly earning a wet spot, you could tell by the way he looked down at where you connected. You chanted ah, ah, ah, like a prayer and he folded you in half until each thrust pushed the sounds out of your lungs whether you wanted to be loud or not. 

“Cum all over my cock, pretty girl, say my fucking name when you cum.”

Two sharp up tilted snaps of his hips and you fell apart under him, unable to see anything but heaven as your eyelids flickered. You moaned his name so loud you knew you’d feel ashamed later, but right now all you felt was ecstasy as he kept going while you writhed.  

You barely started coming down to earth when you noticed him losing his grip, a smile twitching faintly before his face scrunched up in concentration.

“Let me fill you, please, let me cum in your pussy,” he begged.

“Do it, fuck,” you moaned at the mere thought.

He grunted and then his body seized in unsteady shakes and sputters, and your mouth fell open in a gasp as you felt it spill inside.

With every weak thrust he sank further and further down onto you, until he stilled and you were pressed firmly under his weight. You rubbed his back as your teeth buzzed and soaked in the sensation of his cock twitching inside. 

You laid there in the afterglow and watched the dimming sunlight dance on the ceiling, wrapping your head around what happened today and the fact that you didn’t feel angry right now.

You patted him as his breathing evened so he didn’t fall asleep on you. He rolled off, both of you hissing as he pulled out, and then collapsed beside you with his arms above his head. 

Damn him for being stretched out like a greek god. Damn you for loving it. 

He caught your eye as you stared and neither of you could help but huff out a smile. It lingered there until he looked at your lips and then back to your eyes. 

“Want me to make dinner reservations?” he asked in a rasp. 

Your smile grew and you briefly closed your eyes. 

“Yeah. That sounds perfect.”

First date

You two finally go on a first date

● Hear me out. He'd take you to an aquarium. I don't care what anyone says, it's peaceful. He's been surrounded by things trying to kill him constantly. Seeing something beautiful, slow, and natural would be grounding for him.

● He definitely prefers walking around, looking at things, and talking, rather than just sitting at a table and asking about each other's lives. He finds the experience more connecting. Sitting across from someone feels like an interrogation (which he's done too many times).

● He'd know nothing about fish. But when you walk past one species, he'd definitely know a really random, niche fact that no one knows about it. He’ll know the exact chemical composition of a pufferfish toxin from a survival manual, but then he’ll look at a sea turtle and just go, "wow. He's a big guy, isn't he?"

● Even on a date, he always subconsciously maps out the exits to each room you enter. He makes sure he's always as aware of them as he can be, making sure you're a tiny bit closer to them than he is.

● He always smells expensive, but understated. Maybe expensive leather and some sort of citrusy cologne. Think bergamot, sicilian lemon, black tea, leather, and a hint of vanilla. It's a scent that lingers on your clothes days after he's hugged you.

● He’d 100% buy you something stupid. A keychain or a plush shark. He’ll act like he’s doing it ironically, but he’ll be genuinely pleased if you keep it.

Everyday life

Things go well and you start dating

● His love language is definitely quality time. He finds peace in just sitting near you while you both do your own thing. You'll catch him just watching you. Not in a creepy way, just memorising all of your features.

● He's surprisingly precise about his hair. You'll catch him in the bathroom mirror for 10 minutes trying to get one specific piece to sit exactly right.

● The longer you date, the worse his puns get. He uses humour to cope. If he's had a bad week, you both sympathise with him and become full of dread because you know the jokes are about to be absolutely unbearable to hear.

● He seems like the type to sit there reading a mission report while holding your hand, not even saying a word, but his thumb is constantly stroking your knuckles.

● He has a habit that you find both endearing and persistent. He will make sure you drink enough water, eat enough, get outside at least once a day, sleep enough. He is unbelievably determined when it comes to you taking care of yourself.

● He has zero respect for what you’re actually doing when the urge to hug you hits. If you’re trying to type an email or cook dinner, he will weave himself around you anyway. He knows he gets in the way because he's a big guy, but he doesn't care.

Mornings and nights

Waking up and going to sleep with him

● He'd definitely be a bit of a night owl. You'd wake up at 2am and see him just watching TV all the time. When he can't sleep, he finds that forcing himself gets him absolutely nowhere, so he just does what he wants until he gets some sort of sleep. His job and all his PTSD has given him pretty bad insomnia.

● If he wakes up from a nightmare, he won't tell you. He’ll just gravitate toward you in his sleep, tucking his face into the crook of your neck as if to remind himself that you’re real and safe.

● He loves playing with your hair until you fall asleep every single night. It relaxes you and gives him something to do with his hands. He's not used to sitting completely still, one of the reasons why he struggles to sleep.

● If you have to get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom or get some water, he is instantly awake. He's not suspicious of you, it's just his active brain. He'll wait until you get back in bed for his breathing to fully even out again.

● He isn't a "jump out of bed and make pancakes" guy. He’s a "stay in bed for an extra twenty minutes staring at the ceiling and holding you" guy. He loves the quiet moments where the world hasn't started demanding things from him yet. But, he'll still make you pancakes if you want him to when he actually gets up.

● If he actually goes into a deep sleep, expect to wake up to him practically crushing you. If he's fallen into a deep sleep, he's shockingly heavy. He'll have an arm thrown over your waist that feels like a weighted blanket. And he won't let you move it.

Bad days

You both have many, bad, heavy days.

● His bad days are heavy because they're riddled with guilt. He's always had pretty bad survivors guilt. He feels like he shouldn't have made it out of Raccoon City. On his worst days, you’ll find him staring at nothing for long periods. It’s like he’s rewatching a movie of his past in his head. He gets very quiet, and his movements become mechanical.

● He might subconsciously pull away or spend the evening in another room because he feels like his "darkness" shouldn't touch you. He thinks he’s protecting you by being distant, but he really just needs to be reminded that he’s allowed to be human and that he isn't "tainted" by what he's seen.

● He is an incredible listener. If you need to vent, he will sit there with his full attention on you, never interrupting, never judging. He’s seen the worst of humanity, so nothing you say will scare him. He’ll just pull you into his lap afterward and let you hide your face against his shoulder until you feel steady again.

● During bad days, he tends to punish himself subtly by not taking care of himself. You happily cook him meals, help him bathe, maybe go on a walk with him. He's very hard on himself, and you both take care of him and try to bring him back.

● If your bad day leaves you too exhausted to take care of yourself, he will quietly take over. He’ll make sure you eat, bring you water, and gently guide you through a routine to help you get better, reciprocating the care you show him on his own difficult days.

Life when he's away

Your life when he's away on missions

● His missions are sudden. One minute he's helping you with dinner, and the next, his phone pings and his entire posture shifts. He can't give you details about where he's going or what he's doing, but he always takes a long, quiet moment to hold you at the door before he walks out.

● He deliberately leaves small, comforting pieces of himself around the living room. He might leave his favourite worn-in hoodie on the back of a chair, or "forget" to put away a specific book he was reading. He likes knowing his presence stays in the room even when he isn't there.

● Before he walks out the door, he double checks everything regarding your security. He will quietly double check the window locks, make sure the door lock works perfectly, and remind you to keep the porch light on.

● The last hug at the door is always the longest. He’ll wrap his arms around you tightly and bury his face into your shoulder or the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent to memorise it.

● On nights when the anxiety gets particularly heavy, you find comfort in the things he does when he's home. You might put on a movie he likes just for the background noise, or make sure you drink the exact amount of water he’d usually badger you about. Taking care of yourself becomes a way of honouring him while he's not there to do it for you.

● You know he's skilled and you know he can handle himself, but you can't stop lying awake at night, worried if he's alive or not. There's so much danger in his job, and he can't tell you where he's going. You don't know if it's the deadliest mission of his life or something simple.

● When he first gets home, he’s a bit of a ghost. He’ll walk into the kitchen, stare into the fridge for five minutes, and forget why he’s there. He needs to be tethered back to reality.

● For a little while, you only really have what's left of all the energy he spent on the mission, but you take care of him the same way he would you, and eventually, he comes back mentally and you’ll notice the exact moment his eyes lose that distant, survival-mode glaze and truly focus on you again.

Intimacy (NSFW)

What it's like being intimate with him

● He'd definitely talk you through it. I don't make the rules. "Don't close your eyes. Look at me. I want you to see exactly who’s doing this to you." "Yeah, say my name. I want to hear it again. I want to know you know exactly who you belong to right now." "That’s it. You’re taking it so well for me. You’re being so good." "Tell me how that feels. Does it feel good? Yeah?" I could make a list of all the things he'd say.

● He’s heavy, and he knows it. He’ll use his size to pin you down. Not to be aggressive, but because he wants to feel the maximum amount of contact and he wants you to feel him.

● He’s usually a bit self-conscious about the scars on his back and shoulders from Raccoon City and his various missions. If you touch them or kiss them, it completely undoes him. He’ll go quiet, his breath hitching, and he’ll pull you closer and hide in your neck.

● He definitely has some hard limits, like cop/criminal or interrogating role play. It feels too much like a Tuesday at work for him. He wouldn't do weapon play or anything like that. Even if it's unloaded or on safety or just for show, he’s seen too many accidental deaths and has used weapons to kill many things. For him, weapons are a tool for death, not something he'd put you around.

● He never shuts up. He'd talk to you throughout the whole thing, praising you, teasing you, and narrating exactly how you’re reacting to him until your ears are ringing as much as your head is spinning. Even when you’re breathless and trying to lose yourself in the sensation, he’s right there. When you finally go over the edge, he just pulls you closer, his voice in your ear. "That’s it. Just like that. I’ve got you." He forces you to maintain eye contact with him throughout the whole thing.

● I also think sometimes he lets you be in control if you ask to. (He says he's letting you "for now," but he actually really enjoys it). He's also vocal. He doesn't leave you guessing. If he likes what you’re doing, you’re going to hear it. He’ll groan, whimper, moan, or breathe your name like it’s a prayer. He knows that his vocal reactions are a reward for you, and he isn't shy about giving them.

● He likes leaving faint marks. Bruises on your hips from where his hands held you tightly, or a hidden bite mark on your shoulder. If you leave scratches on his back or shoulders, he wears them like a badge.

● When it comes to aftercare, he isn't passive. He is the type to immediately bring you a glass of water without you needing to ask. He appreciates the quiet task of bringing a warm towel to clean you up, treating it as a slow routine to help you both wind down. He will press slow, lazy kisses to your forehead, temples, and jawline, whispering low, gentle praises like "You did so good for me" or "I've got you, you're safe." His hands are never still. He’ll trace faint patterns on your back or play with your hair, relying on constant physical connection to anchor himself in the moment.

Maybe it’s the age, or maybe it’s the pent-up sexual frustration, but if he could choke out either one of you and get away with it, he wouldn’t mind.

Ever since his owner adopted you, they have shoved you up Leon’s nostrils, his mouth, his ass, basically up every orifice available. And at first, he tried to be patient, to be understanding that you’re still new here. He remembers the days when he was just adopted from the shelter, the level of attention he used to get before he became a mundane presence after a few weeks.

But your effect doesn’t seem to wane. Two months and counting, and every single day you get practically worshipped in this house. It’s not like he’s jealous, he’s too old for this kind of attention. Maybe when he was younger he would’ve been, sure; but all Leon cares about anymore is to be left the fuck alone, in peace and quiet until death comes knocking on his door—and perhaps that’s why your owner got you.

Obviously, a new young bunny doesn’t quite match his lifestyle; not with the way you run around the house, not with the way you get way too excited for meal time like you aren’t going to eat the same fucking thing for the rest of your life, and definitely not in the way where he is made responsible for teaching you basically everything without his consent.

You’re a pretty thing though, he’ll admit that. Nice long ears, a very fluffy tail, and eyes that no one can say no to—basically the whole package, so he can understand the appeal. What he can’t understand however, is why he is getting roped into this.

After your owner showed you around the house, they then introduced you to him and you immediately hid behind them.

“No come on, don’t be shy. This is Leon, he’s basically your older brother now. If you ever need help with anything you can ask him.”

His expression immediately morphs into one with utter disbelief—not that he purposefully wanted to make an unpleasant first impression, but it’s rather difficult to contain yourself when someone starts speaking straight up bullshit in front of you.

“Right, Leon?”

“No.”

First off, he wasn’t becoming anyone’s older brother. Older brothers babysit, older brothers care, and he was about to do neither of those. Secondly, they decided to expand the “family” not him, so if you need help don’t come running to him.

He did feel bad for making such a harsh introduction for a while, but eventually got over it when he realized that you didn’t speak a drop of English—nor any languages for that matter. It’s typical for hybrids to be behind on communication thanks to some of their animalistic characteristics, he didn’t manage to speak fluently till a few years ago. But he doesn’t recall himself being that bad when he was younger.

Point is, you were terrible to deal with; which he soon realized that he didn’t have choice but to do. Your owner would go to work from the early morning, and come back home later at night. You would sit by the door the whole day, just staring at it. You would concentrate on the handle, as if the more you concentrated, the quicker they’d come back.

Leon left you to it, the busier you were the less likely you were to bother him after all. But it didn’t take you long to realize that this whole telekinesis thing was hopeless. To pass time, you started bothering him instead.

“She’s weird.”

“She’s just watching you Leon, be nice.”

Apparently, being stared at all day, every day is not a form of harassment. Whenever you wanted food, you’d just stand in front of him and stare until he figures out what you want. Do you have any idea how many of his snacks he had to hand over to you just to get you to leave him alone?

And even if you’re fed, it doesn’t mean he gets a break from you idling around him. If he’s watching something, you’re there. If looking at something, you’re there. If he has to change, he’d have to physically kick you out his room to do so.

The thing is, this wouldn’t be that bad if you were looking at what he’s actually doing rather than directly at him. And it wouldn’t be that bad if you had some sort of expression on your face while doing so. You once spent two whole minutes staring at him in silence without blinking a single time-yes, he counted.

When you finally decide to stop ogling at him, you nap conveniently beside him, or on the floor besides his feet if you have to.

You never speak to him however, keeping your thoughts to yourself—and thank God for that, the last thing he needs is your squeaky voice in his highly sensitive ears. The only time you show an ounce of emotion is when your owner comes home, jumping up and down in excitement, practically throwing yourself at them.

You love the attention, the coos, the compliments even when you can’t quite understand what they say. After observing you for a while, he can tell that you’re fond of physical affection. You like curling up next to anyone who steps foot in the apartment, batting your eyelashes at them and devouring every drop of affection you get.

“Oh my god, she’s so cute!”

“Isn’t she the sweetest thing?”

“Aww look at her!”

Sweetheart of the city, what can he say.

And because you have everyone wrapped around your finger, it makes Leon stick out like a sore thumb. Your owner thinks it’s because the two of you haven’t “bonded” enough based off one answer from chatgpt. Surely that’s the reason, not because Leon has time and time again stated that he doesn’t care.

And as if thing couldn’t get worse, they somehow stumbled across an article that said that bunnies bond through cuddling. Again, bunnies and not hybrids. But thanks to you being an attention leech and for your lack of respect for personal space, they think that this behavior is a natural instinct. Either way, it’s not like anyone has been listening to him since you’ve stepped into the picture.

Bonding time consists of the two of you awkwardly hugging each other for ten minutes; and it takes one look at both of your faces to draw the conclusion that none of you are feeling the bondness of it all. Well, to be fair Leon went from hating it to just wanting to get it over with. You on the other hand, you went from being a little shy to being very comfortable with the whole concept. Another victim to add to your never-ending list.

At first, your arms would intertwine but your bodies would still be away from each other. But then you started stepping closer and closer until resting your head on his chest became a regular thing. He decided to not make a fuss about it—it was only for ten minutes after all.

Your owner had to out of town for a few days leaving the two of you alone, and Leon made it clear that no bonding time will be held during these days. Besides, preparing both of your meals seemed more than enough bonding time for him.

But with the way you were acting, it seemed pretty obvious that you were missing that time you had together. It’s either that or the lack of attention is cutting off the oxygen from reaching your brain.

Now, sitting next to him across the couch doesn’t cut it anymore. If you’re not grabbing onto him, suffocating him, then you’re not close enough. If you did what you’re currently doing a month ago he would’ve told you to get lost, but it takes a lot to break a man and you’ve officially done it. Leon quickly realized that just accepting his fate saves him more energy than telling you off would.

Leon runs a very strict protocol when it comes to sleeping. Having big bunny ears means that he can overhear a conversation in another state if he put his mind to it. So, it doesn’t take much to hear and feel another person climbing into his bed.

“Oh my fucking god”

He grumbles before even opening his eyes, he doesn’t need his visual senses to confirm that it’s none other than you. His eyes crack open seeing you on all fours freezing in place once his eyes catch yours.

“What are you doing here?”

His brows wrinkle in disbelief at how far he let things get. You don’t move, instead you just stare at him with that kicked bunny look on your face. He shrugs his arms and shakes his head, waiting for an answer from you.

“…Bonding time”

“No, no fucking bonding time. Go back to your room.”

Dealing with you when he’s fully rested is already draining, let alone when he’s getting cranky. Deciding he’s had enough, he turns around and lays back down closing his eyes.

After a moment, he feels you shift on the bed, sitting down on your knees. You know it’s a problem when he can sense those eyes of yours staring into his back in a pitch-dark room.

“I said go to your room.”

You stay still for a moment before he feels your weight shift off the bed. And for a second, he felt a rush of dopamine at the idea of you finally finally listening to him. But that happiness was short lived when he hears you shuffle and curl up into a ball on the floor below him.

He takes in a deep breath, and reminds himself that things could’ve been worse. You could’ve been a serial killer, or had a hobby for setting things on fire, or a kleptomaniac—actually you’re worse, you hoard all the snacks under your bed.

And even though it’s sad that the bar had to get this low, but being clingy isn’t the worst-case outcome.

The two of you sits in silence, which gives Leon’s subconscious the perfect moment to strike. What if you’re cold? What if you had a nightmare? He recalls dealing with those after leaving the shelter. What if you end up tragically dying in your sleep and he has to live with the guilt for the rest of his life?

His brows furrow in frustration as he tries to shoo away all the dramatic scenarios that pop into his head. But rather than going away, they only seem to get louder and louder.

He caves in, deciding that going to sleep with a hurt pride is better than not getting any sleep at all. He looks down at your figure below him, knees to chest with your arm propping your head as a pillow.

“Hey.”

You lift up your head, looking over at him. You look like you’re expecting a lecture from him for not listening, which truthfully is what he should be doing.

“Come here.” He pats the space on the bed next to him.

“Bonding time.”

Your ears perk up at the last words, immediately getting up and climbing next to him. You wrap your arms around his shoulder, your head snapping to his chest like velcro. Leon takes in the silence after managing to shut his thoughts up. His arm is branched behind you, supporting your back—it is bonding time after all.

His eyes move over to your figure after a while, a strip of light running across your face from the bedroom door you never fail to leave open behind you; and to no one’s surprise, you’re already looking at him. Deciding since he’s already doing something nice, he might as well go all in. He flashes you a soft smile and you mirror him hesitantly.

 He can feel your heartbeat starting to accelerate with your close proximity as you begin to lean in; your eyes locked on his lips. He thinks of pulling away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls the arm that’s draped around you, pulling you closer to him. His lips caging your bottom lip in a soft embrace, and you reciprocate.

It starts off sweet, his hand finding its way to your cheek before tangling in your hair and exposing the side of your face. His brain struggles to make sense of what’s happening, struggling to blame his actions on his sleepy state or his dormant feelings. You melt into his touch, your thigh stacking on top of his and he grabs onto your side; his thumb on your chin coaxing your mouth to open wider.

His tongue enters your mouth, and you give him full access by leaning in further. A whine escapes your lips, your hips bucking in need. You grab his hand, bringing it down to the aching between your thighs.

He groans as he senses your naked cunt, slick pooled and almost dripping down your thighs. The idea of you going to sleep with nothing other than a shirt makes his feel brain fuzzy with arousal, his middle finger circling your clit.

“Fuck, needy little pussy,”

You instinctively begin to rock you hips against his digits; your palms planted on his chest for support. Deciding to give you more, his fingers tease your dripping entrance before sinking into your cunt.

You moan at the sensation, and Leon feels his cock begging to be released from the confined of his clothes. You begin to ride his fingers, your fluids collecting on the base of his knuckles.

“This pussy just wanted to be filled, huh? Just wanted to feel good?”

He watches you move, his nose picking up the scent of your fluids. He shifts his attention to the ache from his cock, forming a visible bulge in his sweatpants. His fingers slip down his pants along with his underwear enough to pull himself out.

He wraps his fingers around the hot length, earning a hiss from him at the contact. The sound causes your eyes to open and look at what he’s doing. A smirk forms on his lips, his blue eyes locking with yours as his fist pumps up and down his thick cock.

“You wanna try?”

You nod your head hesitantly and he grabs a hold of your hand. He wraps your fingers around him, and with his hand on top of yours he guides your movements. A low groan vibrates from his chest, his head leaning against the headboard behind him as your fingers squeeze around him.

“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so well.”

The movement of your hips on his fingers halt when you notice the amount of precum leaking from the head. It takes one look at your face to see the kind of ideas swirling in your head, and this is the first time he wishes that you could properly speak so he knows exactly what you’re thinking—but he has a pretty good guess.

He pats his thigh, signaling you to come closer. Moving towards him, your thighs bracket his with your arms around his shoulders. Leon’s hand snakes up your thigh before massaging the plush of your ass and you take this moment to connect your lips again.

He gives your jaw a quick kiss and teases his cock at your entrance. Sensing your impatience, he helps you sink down his length; your hands gripping his shoulders at the sudden stretch. Leon starts babbling words of praise as pleasure clouds his thoughts; and with each pulse of your walls, he actively forgives you for every inconvenience you have caused since you entered his life.

You begin to move, lifting yourself up before sinking down again and again. Leon blames the significant lack of pussy he’s experienced in these past few years for the way he feels intensely pussy drunk—or maybe it’s because your so wet it’s getting concerning.

“Shit, sweetheart. Show me those tits.”

His hand sneaks beneath your shirt pulling the piece of fabric over your head. Now met with your naked chest, his palms cup the tender flesh into his hand. He watches as the fat beneath the skin bounces with each snap of his hips, his fingers pinching the stiff peaks.

Unsatisfied, he flips you onto your back with his body caging you between his arms. Pushing your thighs further apart, his arms slot underneath your knees to keep them open as his hips move against your again.

Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he takes in the sweet scent of your shampoo tangled into your hair. With you positioned beneath him and his heart beat soaring, his animalistic instincts start taking over.

“Gonna breed this little pussy, get you so full of my cum.”

The mattress supporting your weight creaks with each thrust of his hips, sweat droplets forming along his hairline and down his back. Your whines start getting louder, your hands helplessly grasping at anything within your reach.

He hears his name being muttered a few times, his hands tangling with yours and pinning them down to the mattress beneath you. It takes a few squeezes from your walls to make his thrusts turn sloppy, your legs wrapping around his torso to keep him close.

“Like the idea, sweetheart? Having my bunnies? Keeping you knocked up all the time?”

Your fingernails leave trails of scratches along his broad back as his hips fuck into you feverishly. The head of his cock rubs against the spongy spot inside you, helping you reach your climax. Leon squeezes your hands, his chest heaving along with yours as you pull him into his orgasm with you.

He cusses under his breath as ropes of cum shoot into your velvety walls. He thrusts into you a few times, watching the white ring around the base of his cock become more prominent with each thrust.

His hand rubs your thigh soothingly before pulling out of your spent cunt. The hot liquid leaks from your hole, the sight making him miss being inside you already. You prop yourself up on your elbows, a smile plastered on your face.

“More?”