MayorKyra

The honey oak dining chair creaks under Leon as he shifts his weight uncomfortably. For the last three weeks, Leon and his father have been hosting weekly Bible group studies in their family home, with an intimate gathering of ten other members within their congregation. The presence of two particular members of the Bible group cause Leon extreme unease: Mrs. Jones and her daughter, Oakleigh. Mrs. Jones is one of the mothers of the church who Leon vividly recalls being one of the ladies huddled in a group during the annual barbecue, whispering insults and rumours about you in a hushed tone. Mrs. Jones' daughter, Oakleigh, is the church's poster child for a young Christian woman; she constantly wears pastel-coloured dresses with heels or wedges no matter the occasion, her hair is always in perfectly uniform butter-blonde dyed curls, and she has a blinding white smile. And she is sitting much too close to Leon for his own liking. He subtly shifts away further, closer to the empty space on his other side.

"Now we shall turn to Genesis 2:23-24. Would anybody like to read?" Leon's father, Paul, asks the room. Paul's hazel eyes roam across the room, when suddenly Oakleigh's hand shoots up.

"I can read it, Mr. Kennedy." Oakleigh smiles, straightening her posture.

"Of course, you go ahead Oakleigh! And please, call me Paul." Paul returns her grin, giving Leon an approving look. His father's gaze only makes Leon's stomach turn, like a stuttering washing machine.

"Okay, thank you… Paul," Oakleigh softly giggles, before holding her Bible up. "The man said, 'this is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called ‘woman,’ for she was taken out of man.' That is why a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife, and they become one flesh." Oakleigh reads out, before looking up at everybody in the room slowly, a coquettish grin slowly blooming across her features, her eyes landing on Leon for a few seconds as she moves a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Amen." The room resounds, though Leon could only move his lips to mimic the word in this moment, for only two thoughts were running around in Leon's head. The first being that you would absolutely disapprove of being thought of as part of a man - the way you would loathe your entire identity being a tool to prop up a man. The second thought being that the overwhelming, almost bone-crushing expectation of scripture was being placed on Leon's chest like a weight; he's hyper-aware of what several others think about him in the congregation; that he's a promising young Christian man who should soon start thinking about settling down and getting married to start a family - getting married to somebody like Oakleigh. Before getting to know you, the latter thought seemed like the default - a perfect blueprint to lead the most perfect, holy life. But now whenever that picture-perfect vision is held up to his face, the thought of this life path - especially one without you, fills his entire being with dread.

"Isn't it just such a beautiful foundation for marriage? To be a part of building something so holy with somebody who shares those Christian values?" Mrs. Jones speaks up to the room, her tone filled with awe.

Oakleigh leans in, the screeching white floral of her perfume invading Leon's nostrils. "It's a beautiful promise, don't you think, Leon? Having someone to truly belong to in a holy union." She whispers, before shifting back with a small grin. Leon can't bring himself to say anything. He can't even open his mouth to give a small 'yep' out of fear that he would scream, or even worse - confess. So instead Leon stills himself, finding a particular grain of wood on the dining table very interesting. He doesn't want to think about scripture or the perfectly laid-out path, he wants to think about you. And so he does.

Leon's mind wanders to thoughts of your smile, the way the corners of your mouth quirk into a sharp edge when you grin, the way your soft lips pout a little when you're lost in thought, those same soft lips that have been all over his mouth and neck, those same soft lips that have wrapped themselves around his cock and- shit. His breath hitches in his throat, the sound of the ongoing Bible group suddenly being drowned out to a muffle. The thought of you isn't just a simple memory, it's a visual assault, as if he's replaying the memory of you on a giant screen, the vision almost so vivid that he's reliving that friction from your hot, wet mouth all over him. The flush in Leon's cheeks is nothing compared to the treasonous arousal that is rapidly pooling in his lower stomach, burgeoning to his dick. Leon feels it - his cock stirring against the fabric of his jeans, his pulse thrumming in his ears. He begins to silently pray to every saint, deity, and god that is willing to listen to him. Though it seems no higher being is willing to pick up the phone right now.

"Leon?" Oakleigh's voice calls out to him, her voice dragging Leon out from the fog of his daydreaming. "Are you alright? You've gone completely red." Oakleigh leans in, her hand reaching out to touch Leon's forearm, her brows furrowed in concern.

"I'm-! I'm okay." Leon flinches away before her hand can even touch him. He becomes acutely perceptive of how he appears - a thin sheen of sweat forming on his forehead, his neck and cheeks flushing a beet red, and the crack of his voice.

"Oh no, poor dearie. You don't seem okay, perhaps you need to step outside for a moment and get some fresh air?" Mrs. Jones recommends.

"No!" Leon replies, perhaps a little too hastily and loudly. He clears his throat as the room falls silent for a heartbeat. "No, I'm fine, really. Please, continue." He adds, his rigid posture doing him no favours as the group continue to discuss scripture. Despite their concern and addressing him directly, there was absolutely nothing Leon could do to make it go down. Every time he would try to re-focus, his mind runs off-leash, dragging him back to the memory of his tongue stuffed in your puffy, sopping wet folds, the taste almost present on his tongue, even as he tightly grips onto his Bible.

"Son… You really do look unwell. I know you don't want to miss this, but there's always next week. I think you should lie down for the rest of the night." Leon's father says after a few minutes have passed.

"O-okay. My apologies, everyone." Leon stammers, rising from his chair in one snappy movement and subtly angling his Bible over his crotch area as he shuffles out of the dining room. He awkwardly waves everyone and bids them goodnight as they give him their best wishes that he feels better the next day. The moment Leon reaches the top of the stairs, he pushes down on his bedroom door handle with clammy hands, placing his Bible on the dresser and quietly locking his bedroom door shut. He can only think of one person who he would be able to talk to this stuff about.

'My dad is hosting Bible group tonight and… I don't know what's wrong with me, but I can't stop thinking about you, and I'm so hard. And it's just not going away. Help' Leon types and hits send before he overthinks it and deletes his message. The moment Leon hit send, the tiniest broken whimper escapes his mouth. Pulling his forehead to his knees, Leon attempts to breathe deeply - he feels lost and confused, unsure of what this situation means for his faith, but most of all, the hunger that is gnawing at his gut is downright terrifying. Leon stares at his phone, waiting for your text back, the sound of his father's Bible group discussing purity and salvation downstairs, while he was sat upstairs in his bedroom with his knees pulled to his chest trying not to give in to the temptation of lust and arousal.

His phone dings in less than a minute. He frantically switches it to silent before holding up the screen.

'omg leon, this is starting to become a habit of urs haha' 'why dont u just start jacking off?' You send the second message immediately after the first.

"God help me." Leon whispers desperately, but he's unsure if he's asking God for strength, or mercy.

The idea of touching himself while thinking about you sent a shudder down his spine. Leon's body unfurls, his hand moving before his brain can protest. Leon slid his zipper down with shaky, careful hands, fearing that somebody downstairs could somehow sense his impure thoughts and actions. Once the zipper was finally down, the relief of his straining cock slipping out of his underwear was so intense that he had to bite back a shaky, broken moan. He doesn't even bother pulling his pants all the way down, his hand already closed around his length, slowly pumping at his cock with his precum glistening under the orange glow of his bedside lamp.

'no reply so i'm guessing u took my suggestion lol. did u need some source material?' You text him. As Leon glances at his phone screen, his phone loads an attached picture of you from the neck down, your black tank top rolled up with your tits in full view. "Holy shit…" He whispers, his heart racing at the image, hand automatically tightening and moving faster.

'actually better yet, wanna call?' Another message pops up from you. He pauses - the concept of calling him while he's getting off to the thought of you is hair-raising, not because of the act, but because of the intimacy of the act. But the thought of hearing your voice in his ear entirely nullified any feelings of mortification. Before Leon can even type his reply, you're ringing him, and his hand trembles violently as he accepts your call.

"H-Hey…" Leon greets you, his voice a shaky whisper. He mentally facepalms at how pathetic he sounds already. "Please… I-I think 'm gonna lose it…" You hear him quietly whimper your name over the phone, your hands snaking beneath the waistband of your pajama pants.

"Ohhh, already? What had my good boy so riled up when he's meant to be reading Bible verses and praising the Lord?" You coo. Your voice feels so close to his ear, he can practically imagine the sensation of your warm breath fanning against his ear.

"I couldn't- Ah, I couldn't help it." Leon confesses, squeezing his eyes shut. "They were reading about… Becoming one flesh. And Oakleigh… She tried to touch my arm, and I could only think about how much I didn't want her touching me. And then all I could think about was you. How much I wanted to touch you." Leon explains himself quietly, hearing the shift of your breathing. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be doing this right now and it's wrong, I know I'm- Ah!" Leon lets out a stifled whimper as his thumb accidentally grazes against the underside of his cock.

"Oh… You poor thing." You sigh, but it sounds more adjacent to a moan.

"A-are you… Touching yourself?" Leon asks in a shameless, needy whisper. "Are you touching yourself when you think about me?"

"Mmhmm. I have my hands underneath my panties, and I'm slowly rubbing my clit thinking about how cute you looked while you were eating my pussy." You respond, a soft, wet squishing sound barely audible, but Leon could hear it. He lets out another quiet moan, bucking his hips into his hands. "Oh… You heard that, right? You can hear how wet I am for you?" You ask.

"O-oh, god-" Leon whispers, choking on a sob. "Yeah. I heard it- Fuck- I'm imagining you, your legs spread for me and- Ah… I wanna be there. Between your legs." He gasps, his breathing becoming short, desperate pants as he works his cock faster and harder.

"Your moans are so cute, Leon. I'm already close… I can't stop thinking about how pretty your eyes are when your mouth is stuffed full of my pussy. I just wanna feel your cock against my tongue now…" You moan, the small of your back feeling damp as your limbs writhe in pleasure. Leon can only imagine how you look right now, thinking about him. And that's more than enough for him.

"O-oh, fuck- Please don't stop. Cum for me, please cum for me, cum while I think about you, please-" You can hear him sob from the sheer, overwhelming pleasure. "I-I'm so close, please, I'm so close, I'm gonna-" Leon lets out a needy, strangled moan to the sound of your own orgasm, your moans filling his ears as he shoots hot, sticky, white ropes of cum all into his hand. His head falls back into his pillow, but before he can say anything else to you, he hears a knock at the door. "Shit! I'll text you." He whispers in a frantic hiss, as the line goes dead instantly.

Leon zips up his jeans, before grabbing a worn shirt out of his laundry basket and wipes his hand clean to hide the evidence of his debauchery. "H-Hi! Sorry, about taking a while. I'm still feeling faint, must just be the heat…" Leon speaks, forcing a shaky strained smile as he looks up at the person knocking. Oakleigh.

"Oh! That's okay. Your dad said to check up on you, he said you looked quite ill so he was worried, so… Here's a glass of water. We're about to head home so… Yeah. Just wanted to check in." Oakleigh says, offering the glass to Leon with a sweet smile. Leon actively shoves his freshly-wiped hand into his back pocket, taking it with his other hand as he grabs the glass from Oakleigh awkwardly, avoiding touching her at all.

"Th-Thanks, Oakleigh. I'm sorry for troubling everyone. I think I just need to sleep it off, I'll be okay." Leon takes a sip from the cup, averting his gaze. Before Oakleigh can get another word in, Leon gives his regards with a performative smile that doesn't reach his eyes and shuts the door immediately.

That was close. Way too close. Leon pulls his phone out after he hears the rest of his father's Bible group leaving.

'By the way, you called me your good boy…'

'yeah. i did'

'I liked it. Does that mean I'm yours?'

'yep. just as much as i'm yours, if you'll have me :)'

'Of course I'll have you.'

That night, Leon fell asleep with a huge grin on his face.

…Since that text conversation after the Bible group had ended, you and Leon have managed to keep your relationship under wraps for almost two months now. Leon always felt that sinking feeling in his gut when it came to lying about his whereabouts with his father, but the sinking feeling was nothing compared to the fact that he's been wanting to incorporate you further into his life even though the weighted expectations and growing labyrinth of his own lies have been preventing him from doing so. But you've been patient with him - as always, and for that, Leon cannot be more simultaneously grateful and apologetic towards you and the situation.

Which is exactly why Leon is knocking on your door, like he's done almost every weekend for the last six or so weeks now. And the worst part is that his father believes it every time, especially since Leon's grades have surprisingly only shot up even higher. His teacher told Leon it's something about him having a little more confidence and trusting his intuition a little more; Leon doesn't say it out loud, but he feels as if you're the one to thank for this newfound confidence.

"Hey there, handsome. How was your week?" You smile, welcoming him in. Leon immediately blushes at the word 'handsome'. Although you've been taking it slow, the both of you are no strangers to each others' bodies anymore, however every time you opened the door, you were wearing a bra and your clothes usually had a higher cut. But today you're only in a thin black tank top, with the cotton tightly clinging to the contour of your chest and the outline of your nipples. To add even more disaster to the mix, you're just in a pair of small grey shorts and a pair of white knee high socks. And you just called him handsome.

"G-good. I aced my practical exam, so that's the biggest hurdle out of the way. I'll soon be graduating from the police academy." Leon can't help but stammer, forcing his eyes to fixate on any spot that is above the neck.

"Really? Oh, I'm so glad to hear that!! You're so close to getting the badge!" You grin as he walks in.

"…I've missed you. I know it's only been five days and we've texting been every day, but I've really missed you. And dad's Bible group thing is almost finished, so I'll soon be free from that too. I can't focus on more than half the stuff they say anymore, I keep thinking about you too much." Leon admits sheepishly.

"I've missed you too. A lot." You smile, as Leon shuts the door behind him and settling his bag down. "I've already set the movie up, popcorn's already on the table." You note, heading towards your TV. Leon doesn't follow behind you, he's simply staring.

"Hey, is everything okay?" You tilt your head as you ask - a habit of yours he finds impossibly endearing.

"Y-yeah… Just… Your shirt. And the rest of the outfit." Leon notes, covering his mouth with the back of his hand and looking away with a reddened complexion.

"Oh, right. I got up a little late, needed to do some cleaning so I didn't change out of my pyjamas." You explain, perching on the back of the couch. Leon's eyes follow from the curve of your waist down to your thighs, approaching you slowly as if you were a skittish animal that might run off if he moves too fast.

"I… I like seeing you like this. And it's getting to a point where you're on my mind constantly," Leon stands with his legs almost touching yours, looking at you with impossibly soft, reverent blue eyes. "…What are you doing to me?" His question is a soft accusation, one filled with no conviction whatsoever.

"I'm not doing anything to you. Yet." Your legs move to cage him between your thighs.

"I feel like I'm losing my mind right now, watching you sit there like that in those clothes," Leon murmurs, his large, calloused hands settling on the outside of your thighs, "I feel like I'm losing my mind. I can barely focus to the point where it feels almost physically painful to stop thinking about you and actually concentrate on my studies and my prayers." Leon leans forward a little, resting his forehead against yours. "Are you trying to make me confess something? Because I swear I've already confessed everything to you." He murmurs.

"I… I'm not doing anything, Leon, I swear. I just forgot to change out of my pyjamas. And I'm just really happy to see you. Unless… You're saying this because you really do have more to confess?" You ask him in a whisper.

Leon's throat suddenly seizes for a heartbeat. You were playing coy, and you both know it, but your deception is intoxicating. His eyes roam across your face, the midday sun shining bright through your window, casting a bright, halo-like glow upon the outline of your hair. Leon's been contemplating the existence of God for a while now, but in this moment, he has no doubt that angels are real. "You're killing me here." He whispers back, his hands roaming upwards from the flesh of your outer thighs to settle on the sides of your waist. "I do have more to confess." Leon mumbles.

"I'm listening." You hum lowly in response, watching his Adam's apple bob up and down once as he thickly swallows. In this moment, Leon realised that he wanted to give in to temptation entirely. To sink to his knees and kneel at you, to press his face against your stomach and beg for your attention and affection to the point where it feels overwhelming. But the teasing tone in your voice feels like a challenge, and it's just the impetus he needs.

"I was thinking about how you sound when I'm making you feel good. How much I love hearing my name when you moan. And I can't get the vision out of my head when you touch yourself - when I'm not there. I was thinking about your hands on yourself and how badly I want to replace them. I just want to hear you moan my name until you lose your voice." Leon admits in a low, hoarse tone. You shudder at his words, and the feeling of his thumbs now rubbing small little circles against your waist. "Is that enough of a confession for you? Or do you want me to be really, truly be honest right now?" Leon asks.

"Well now you've intrigued me. I think I do want you to be really, truly honest with me right now." You bite your lip, watching Leon's pupils dilate a little more as his gaze flickers to your lips.

Leon leans in, his lips against the skin of your neck, right underneath your earlobe. "I want to stop talking. I want to put my hands all over you and taste you. And I want to feel your hands all over me when I do it," he pauses to plant a soft kiss on your neck, "I want to worship you. I want to be inside of you." He adds, before pulling away a little. "Is that honest enough for you?"

"You're a very honest man, Leon Kennedy. And I really like that about you." You grin, pulling him in gently by the front of his shirt to kiss him. As your lips meet, an unexpected, guttural raw groan of pleasure escapes from somewhere deep in Leon's throat. For his entire life, Leon has lived by the rules and teachings that say desire and passion are meant to be contained; something to be boxed up, chained with a giant padlock, and channelled into prayer and discipline. But feeling your lips upon his completely eviscerated that notion. Leon's kisses fast evolve from an initial shyness to a clumsy hunger. His hands that have been so tentatively resting on your waist have made their way to your hips, the warmth of his hands seeping into the fabric of your shorts as he pulls you in closer, moving his lips against yours with urgency. The kisses become deep, wet, almost demanding, as his tongue skims against yours. He wants to erase every little gap between to both of your bodies, and as his body presses against yours, he feels only a thin layer of fabric between himself and your breasts, which causes him to whimper in your mouth.

Breaking the kiss for a second, he leans his forehead against yours once more. Both of you are panting heavily, lips swollen and glistening. "I can't think straight when you do that." His hands on your hips slightly trembling with need. "Please… Don't stop. Don't ever stop." He whispers.

"Okay. I won't stop." You grin, kissing him briefly once more. "…Bedroom?" You ask him quietly.

"Yes, please." He exhales heavily. You don't even need to lift a finger - Leon simply hoists you by the underside of your upper thighs with ease as he carries you to your bedroom, placing you down on the bed softly and kissing you once more. "I don't want to control anything anymore. I don't want to put a lid on my feelings. I want to be yours, all of me." He pulls away from the kiss, his eyes misty from the tears forming.

Your heart feels like it might just lurch out of your chest at the sight of him. You want to see Leon smiling and happy for the rest of his life. The thought of his bright laughter alone feels like warm sunshine on your skin. And that's when you realise you can't hold your own feelings back anymore either. "Leon?" You whisper to him quietly.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too." He smiles - and his smile is so gentle and ingenuous you can't help but smile back. "Gee, you beat me to it… I've been wanting to say that for a while." Leon chuckles, the atmosphere turning into something even more affectionate and warm.

"And that means I also want you to be entirely comfortable. I know your faith is in a place it wasn't before, but I need to know that you want this just as much as I do."

Leon's frame stiffens for a moment. Throughout his life, he's been told what to say, what to do, and how to act, no matter what he thinks or feels. He realises that until being with you, he's rarely been asked if he's comfortable, if he's okay with something. You - somebody who is deemed an outsider, has been more considerate and caring towards his autonomy than most people in the church have for his entire life. It solidifies his decision entirely. "Yeah. I do. I… I've never been more certain of something in my life."

His hands slide from your waist to your hips, warm and encompassing. The Leon before meeting you may have found this type of vulnerability and willingness to be so intimate downright terrifying. But the Leon in front of you now is different; he's no longer terrified of this vulnerability and openness to desire. He feels completely seen and safe. His fingertips gently hook into the waistband of your shorts. "I want to make you feel everything," He whispers as he pulls your shorts down. "I'll be so good to you, I promise." He adds, before leaning in and pressing his face against the thin, damp fabric of your underwear, placing an open-mouthed kiss against the only remaining barrier of cloth against your pussy.

"I know. I know you'll be good to me. I love you." You whisper, stroking the side of his cheek, and for a moment, he leans into your palm, kissing it before he returns his gaze to your sopping wet cunt.

Leon could say it a million times and never tire of it. "I love you too." He whispers back. His breath catches in his throat after pulling the waistband of your underwear down, a long glossy string of your slick attaching your skin and the flimsy fabric together before it finally snaps apart. He doesn't hesitate further, he presses his face forward, his tongue darting out to taste you. A low, needy whimper escapes his lips as you buck your hips forward under his touch. "You're so wet for me already… God. You're so perfect." He murmurs against the heat of your skin as his tongue languidly swipes along your clit, his index finger and middle finger slowly entering inside of you.

"Fuck! Oh my-" You gasp, your thighs already trembling as he curls his fingers upwards and continues to work at your clit with his tongue. You've taught him well, it seems.

"That's it… Yeah, please give it to me… I wanna hear you… I want every last drop of you." He mumbles, redoubling his efforts as he sustains the pressure and speed of both his tongue and his fingers, his tongue switching from broad, flat strokes to sharp, precise flicks at your clit. You can see it - the way he's underneath you, watching and studying your reactions and adjusting to them in real time. You can only whimper and moan some more as he works at you with an intensity so feverish it's almost desperate. He's practically consuming your very soul.

He can feel the way your hips are stuttering and your body beginning to pull taut, fingers tangling in his blonde hair as you pull him impossibly closer into you. He can sense it. You moan his name over and over again like a prayer; hearing you whine and moan his name like this sounds better than any hymn he's ever heard. And it's all he needs to fuck you with his fingers and tongue at a relentless pace to get you to the place you want to go. "Ah- Fuck, I'm gonna-" Is all you can manage before you snap, coming undone on Leon's tongue and fingers. Staying true to his word, he really does lap up every last drop, letting you ride your high out until you're completely finished. Only until the last of your body's tremors subsided did he lift his head - his blue eyes dazed, his lips and chin glossy with your slick, and his blonde hair now all mussy due to the several directions your fingers had pulled his hair in. "You have such pretty eyes." You whisper to him, committing the image in front of you to your memory.

There is a crease in Leon's mind, where shame sits. It doesn't like to be ironed out. He was bracing himself to feel that familiar stab of guilt in his gut, but it never arrived. Rising up from his knees, he kisses you once more, letting you taste yourself. Breaking away from the kiss, Leon is the first one to speak. "It'll be my first time." He murmurs, that familiar bashfulness of his floating back to the surface.

"That's okay. We go slow. At your pace. No need to worry about a condom, I'm on the pill."

"O-oh. Are you sure? Because if you would prefer me to wear one, I can, I watched a YouTube video on how to put on a condom like ten times now, since school gave pretty bad sex-ed and nobody else ever- Um, actually, I'm going to stop talking." He chuckles, momentarily breaking the incredibly thick and charged atmosphere with that charming awkwardness. You can't help but laugh in return.

"I think you're incredibly sweet and considerate for that. But don't worry about it. I just wanna feel you inside of me." Leon's face reddens at your words, but the shyness was overridden by the fact that you trust him with something like this. And he takes the weight of that responsibility very seriously.

"Okay, I'll be gentle," he kisses your forehead, his cock lining up against your entrance. You look up at him, nodding with a needy expression in your eyes. He nods back at you, before slowly sinking his cock inside of you. The sensation of your body - the impossibly tight and wet heat, is so staggering that for a moment Leon thought he might just pass out right then and there. He lets out a strangled groan at the sensation of you stretching around him, the feeling of your bodies being so intimately close together that he can't help but let out a loud, strangled moan. "O-oh fuck, you feel so perfect." He gasps.

You let out a hiss of pleasure as he drags his cock almost all the way out, and all the way back in. The sound makes his eyes dart up to yours. "Oh no - I hurt you, I'm so sorry, I-" Leon begins, but you shake your head, cupping his cheek and briefly kissing him.

"I'm okay. Just still kind of adjusting to you… Just start slow." Your voice is calm and soothing.

"Okay, yeah, I can do slow." Leon nods, before leaning down once more and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead - a wordless apology and pledge to you. He takes a deep inhale, before rolling his hips slowly. Leon intently monitors your reactions, searching for any signs of discomfort until your body has fully relaxed. He then begins to buck his hips just a little faster. "I-is this good?" He shudders, the tactile sensation of being inside of you was overwhelming, like hot, wet silk. Despite this, Leon was placing his own pleasure secondary in his mind - he is completely at your mercy.

"Mmhmm. You're doing so good for me… You can go faster now. I can take it." You coo, and you can see the last shred of his resistance utterly collapsing. He lets out an audible whimper in response to your praise. The movement of Leon's hips becomes harder and faster - although the rhythm starts off clumsy, he quickly readjusts and finds that perfect pace and angle. It makes his name tumble from your lips with a loud moan, and it simply intensifies his efforts.

"Y-you're so tight…" He needily groans out, the slick slap of skin and your creaking bedframe echoing in your ears. "You feel so… oh fuck- I can't-" He gasps, an uncharacteristically high pitched whine leaving his mouth as he looks at you with complete adoration and devotion in his eyes. He's completely pussydrunk, and it's all because of you.

"Fuck- oh god, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck- Please, Leon…" You gasp, your entire body beginning to shudder and shake as you feel your second climax approaching. "I'm so close, I'm gonna cum…" You moan, your walls clenching implausibly harder. Your words are more than enough to spur him forward.

"Yes, please, please… Cum for me. Please. I wanna feel you… Please." Leon is begging, his movements even more frantic as he makes it his entire life's mission to make you feel good. His own orgasm is simmering in his gut, his own cord about to snap. "Please, I wanna cum with you, please…" He begs some more, his voice incredibly raspy with desperation at this point.

"Fuuuuuck… I'm gonna-" Is all you can manage. And that's all it takes for Leon. The walls of your cunt clenching around him as you cum. Leon completely loses himself in your pleasure. He cries out your name as he shoots hot, white, sticky ropes of his cum inside of you. And you milk him for all he's worth, as you ride out your high on his dick. Leon collapses forward, slowly pulling himself out of you with a short whimper. His entire body feels sluggish, as if every bone in his body suddenly turned to lead. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, your hands roaming across his muscular back to hold him as you realise something - his body is slightly shaking.

It's not the type of post-orgasm shaking, but the type of trembling in one's body when they're completely swamped by the very foundation of their beliefs and teachings crumbling like a poorly-built sandcastle - not out of sorrow, but out of relief. Gently tangling your fingers in his hair, you pull him close. "Hey… You okay?" You ask him gently, giving him a moment to compose himself.

A short and quiet chuckle of disbelief leaves Leon's lips. "I've never… I've never been so close to somebody like this. Not just physically, but emotionally too." He whispers. Looking up at you with his pale blue eyes, his expression is honest and earnest. "I thought I'd feel the guilt hit me by now, but it hasn't. I don't think it ever will because this was perfect, and you are perfect." He adds, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "Thank you." He murmurs against your skin. You pull him a little closer.

"Thank you as well - for trusting me. I know things like this can turn your world upside down. If you feel anxious about it later on, you can talk to me, okay?" You whisper to him in response.

Leon stiffens for a fraction of a second before looking at you once more. "It does feel like my entire world just got flipped upside down. I'm still processing it - the fear and guilt." Leon sits up, but his thumb is lovingly stroking little circles against your hip; a silent refusal to separate himself from the warmth of your skin. "But for the first time in my life, everything feels like is actually the right way up." Leon adds.

"I'm glad." You respond softly, sitting up with him, "now as much as I'd like to cuddle you for the rest of the day, we desperately need a shower and maybe a coffee. You can head on in first."

"Wait," Leon says, gently grabbing your hand. "Is it okay if I come with you? I've just been tossing and turning with feelings of guilt and betrayal - it feels lonely. I don't want to be alone, I don't want any privacy. I just want to be with you. Is… Is that okay?"

"Yeah, of course. It's more than okay, Leon."

The hot steam curls upwards to the ceiling in translucent little white ribbons. Stepping into the shower, you pull him into the small cubicle, the water planing down both of your skin as the heat seeps into your muscles and bones. You squeeze the shampoo bottle in your hands. "Here. Turn around." You instruct him quietly, and he complies. Your fingers gently press and rake across his scalp as the soapy scent fills both of your nostrils, and he instantly relaxes into your touch.

"…Nobody's done this for me before. Not since I was a little kid." Leon murmurs.

"Same." You hum, lathering the suds into his dark blonde hair. Leon still seems a little out of it. "Everything okay up there, space cadet?" You tease him gently, but your concern and sincerity is evident. Leon flinches slightly, your voice pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, just processing things…" He pauses. "I was brought up being told that everything we just did was sinful. That wanting somebody in this way is a sin. But that couldn't be further from the truth - the best part of me, the part that feels good and wants you, and learns from you, that's the part they told me was the devil's temptation." Leon slowly exhales, looking at you through the fog of the steam. "And now I don't know what to do with that. I don't know how to reconcile the person I was moulded to be, with the person that I want to be when I'm with you. Is that okay? That I'm feeling a little broken right now?" Leon asks.

"I don't think you're broken at all, but I can completely understand why you would feel broken. I think you're just Leon. The Leon who's exploring more and more about himself and his beliefs. My Leon." You respond softly.

'My Leon.' Your words linger in his head. His breath hitches in his throat. He replays your words in his head once more. He feels claimed by you. Your words weren't possessive or controlling, nor did they have the intent to be. He simply feels claimed by you in a way that makes him feel safe.

"Come on, turn around, I'll wash your hair now." Leon murmurs as you pass him the shampoo bottle. Only the sound of the shower running fills the air for a moment in time, but the silence between you both is comfortable. "It feels safe… Being taken care of by you." He's the first one to break that silence.

"I like taking care of you," you softly chuckle to him, "I know you'd do the same for me in a heartbeat."

"I would," he responds, his voice thick with the tone of devotion, "I really, really would." Leon's hands are so large and calloused, but the way he handles you is so delicate, as if you were made of glass and could shatter if he pressed a little too hard. He's capable of many physical feats, but despite his muscular build, he is still so gentle, capable, and attentive. It makes something warm bloom within your chest, branching into your lungs. "…I like this. I think I was made for this." He adds with a whisper.

"I think so too." You whisper, turning around and letting the water rinse the shampoo from your hair. You look at him - really look at him. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes filled with an expression that could only be described as reverence when you look at him. You can't help but grin at the sight of him.

"What is it?" He blinks owlishly, oblivious to the expression he's making when he looks at you.

"Nothing. I just… I wanna attack you with kisses." You smile.

"Attack me with kisses?" He repeats, blinking again, before letting out a startled, breathless laugh as he registered what you meant. Your request was so left-field but so tender, it was exactly the kind of levity he needed to pull him out of his ruminations. The remaining tension in his shoulders relaxed.

"Yes! Please." He softly gasps out a short laugh, already closing his eyes in anticipation. Your grin becomes wider as you gently pull his face towards yours, away from the downwards stream of the shower water, as you begin your assault. Leon fully surrenders himself to your ministrations, his smile bright and airy as you litter kisses all over his face. The sensation of being kissed by you feels as if he's being showered in adoration, a feeling he's never felt before until you came into his life. As you kiss the corner of his mouth and the tip of his nose, you hear him make an imperceptible noise in the back of his throat, a small, happy sound. Each kiss feels like a tiny little electric spark going off deep within his nervous system in the best way possible. He cages your frame in his arms, holding you so tight to point where it feels as if he's trying to erase any gaps between you both. You both stay that way for a couple more minutes until the water in your shower runs cold.

The crisp autumn air has more bite to it than you prepared for, but luckily the hot cup of takeaway coffee in your hand provided that much needed warmth.

"Ah man, I donated a bunch of clothes when I was still living on campus. I need to get a new jacket for the changing seasons soon." You comment as you both sit on a bench underneath the reddening leaves in town.

"Oh no… If I knew you run cold I should've given you my jacket before we left your place." Leon replies, taking a sip of his coffee. "Oof, I think they burnt the beans on my order just a tiny bit." He adds, a slight scrunch of his nose but he continues to drink it anyway. Before you can open your mouth to offer to trade your coffee with his, you see a pair of camel suede knee-high boots step into your field of vision.

"Oh, hey Leon!" Oakleigh beams, completely ignoring your presence. You don't say anything, you just stare at your coffee cup lid, trying not to draw attention. You're already aware that Leon's got a lot of pressure coming from him at all angles - his father, the church, the expectations of the police academy, and the expectations he places on himself. He doesn't need more on his plate.

"Ah, hey Oakleigh…" Leon rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, subconsciously making himself smaller as if he's afraid that she'd be able to smell the traces of premarital sex on him like some kind of hound.

"Haven't seen you around in a while. How's things at the police academy? Your dad won't stop talking about how proud he is that your grades have shot up exceptionally. You must be working really hard." She compliments him, turning her body completely away from you.

"Yeah, um, just been putting in the extra hours to study and stuff. Actually, can we talk another time? I'm kinda in the middle of something here." Leon says, clearly becoming uncomfortable with the way Oakleigh is shunning you.

"Hm? Oh. Right. Hey, how are you? Love your shoes by the way." Oakleigh gives you a faux smile before turning her back towards you once more. "That's really charitable of you Leon, you're really walking in the spirit of the Lord. My parents say to never talk to outsiders, especially…" She flicks a glance over her shoulder at you before turning back to him. "Never mind." She giggles.

"…Can you please stop that? You shouldn't say those kinds of things." Leon shuffles himself closer to you.

"What? Leon. I'm just saying… Don't be like that. You know how it is." She folds her arms, giving you a brief, pointed glare.

"No, I don't know how it is. You're being unnecessarily rude and unkind." Leon's jaw ticks - you've never seen him this confrontational before.

"Um, it's fine. I think it's better that I leave, to be honest." You nod, beginning to move and rise from your seat.

"Bye bye." Oakleigh gives you a smug grin as she turns her attention back to Leon.

"No, no- I don't want you to leave." Leon shakes his head, instinctively reaching for your hand and gently pulling you back towards him, your thighs now touching as you find yourself sitting next to him again, but this time much closer. He doesn't pull his hand away from yours after you're sat.

"…What?" Oakleigh's eyes narrow as she fixates on your held hands. You don't give anyway any reaction or emotion, you stare at her with a neutral face before your gaze shifts to Leon. "Leon, there's no way - you're actually going out with her? She's an outsider… She's a slu-."

"Don't call her that. Don't even finish that sentence." Leon's voice drops to a tone that would even be considered a snarl, a register that he himself had no clue he could ever use. "You call yourself a Christian, walking around with that cross on your neck, yet you're here judging a woman who is simply existing, someone who hasn't even provoked you once and you're still going," Leon pauses, turning to you. "I think we should just get out of here." He adds.

"Gladly." You sigh with pronounced exasperation, as you both begin to walk away from Oakleigh. You hear the click of her heeled boots behind you both, practically chasing after you.

"Leon, does your dad even know about her? Does he know you're hanging out with a non-believer, willingly letting her corrupt you? Hey! This is Satan tempting you!" Oakleigh calls out. You feel Leon stiffen as your pace slows to a brief halt.

"I don't care." He says plainly, before you both turn and walk away from her.

Leon had half a feeling he knew what would be coming when he slowly trudged up to his street. Despite telling Oakleigh that he didn't care, he actually did care. A lot. Every lie to his father was like a brick swallowed, his stomach weighing down with immense guilt. Leon didn't care so much about the expectations of his church, but what he did care about was his father's expectations - after all, the man adopted him after the traumatic death of both Leon's parents, and took him in as if he were his own. To go against his father's teachings and upbringings feels like the ultimate betrayal against his father.

The front porch lights are on, the yellow glow casting downwards on his father's standing form. Leon feels his throat and jaw clench up. "Dad, I-" Leon begins, but the look on Paul's face immediately silenced him.

"Inside. Now."

"Sit down." His father says in that impossibly quiet but angry tone. The home that Leon once felt safe in suddenly became charged with a thick, oppressive atmosphere. "I got a call from Oakleigh Jones. She said she saw you with… That girl. The one that left the church. Holding hands." His father begins, before tapping on his phone and holding the screen up to show the message Oakleigh had sent. Leon doesn't read it, he barely skims over it, unable to stomach whatever message the girl had sent, but he could see the word 'girlfriend' in the text and your name in Oakleigh's message. "Tell me this is a misunderstanding, Leon." His father says - and for the first time in his father's life, his voice cracks. "Tell me you haven't been lying to me, that this is all a misunderstanding and she's not leading you astray. That you haven't been sinning behind my back." His father grits out, slamming the phone face down on the table.

Leon opens his mouth - his mind runs a neat little script; that it really is all a misunderstanding, that he was just trying to save your soul and help you return to the church, that he's just being a good Christian. But then the thought of you crosses his mind immediately after - the thought of you letting another person talk badly about you so blatantly right in front of his face, purposely attempting to humiliate you, yet you didn't say a word so that you could protect him. The thought of you telling him that you love him, that you peppered his face in kisses even when he felt like he didn't deserve to be loved in that moment. Leon has already betrayed his father and the guilt is already weighing him down, but he would be in total agony if he betrayed the woman he loves too. "No." Leon's voice was quiet, but firm. "No, it's not a misunderstanding."

The sentence held in the air like an anvil strung to the ceiling with a weak rope. Leon took a deep, shaky breath, looking his father in the eye properly for the first time tonight. "I'm not being led astray by her, Dad. I'm not a victim. I'm with her because I want to be - because I love her." He adds.

Leon's father runs a hand down his jaw. "…I can't believe my ears right now. I don't know where I went wrong. You know, her parents are good people - but I pity them. We always pray for them, that she'll find her way back to the church, but it seems she doesn't want that. But Leon, I raised you as a Christian with Christian values, son. And now you're going off with some… Temptress. A non-believer." Leon's father sighs disappointingly.

Despite Paul meaning well, every single word felt like a complete insult and a jab. Leon feels a surge of hot, protective anger over you, but it's quickly dampened by the cold, crushing weight of his father's disappointment. "You didn't go wrong, dad. You taught me to be a kind, honest person who stands up for the right thing." Leon stands up, his posture going from small and hunched to tall and rigid. "And that's exactly what I'm doing. She's not a temptress, she's one of the most compassionate and thoughtful people I've ever known. So don't pity her parents. They love her without conditions and terms - they love her enough to let her go from the church and keep the bridge between them. But you… You can't even love me enough to let me be happy." Leon grits out. "I'm not losing my way, I'm just not going on the path you carved out for me. And if you can't accept that that I love her then… I don't know what to tell you. Because I'm not going to let you make me choose between you and her. Because I will choose her, and I will choose to be happy." Leon's fists briefly clench and unclench at his sides.

"Wow… She must've really sunk her claws into you." Paul pauses. "Did you have sex with her? Is that it?" He asks - the question being thrown down like a sledgehammer into the centre of the dining table. "Leon. Did you have premarital sex with her?" He repeats himself for emphasis. Leon can't bring himself to reply to his father's question, but the silence already spoke for him anyway. "You did." Paul breathes out, his words a horrified whisper. "After everything I taught you, after everything we believe, you gave yourself to a… To a…"

"Don't." Leon warned, a deep growl coming from the back of his throat that he thought he'd never use against the man who raised him. "Don't finish that sentence." Leon's voice was steady but his hands were shaking. "She's not a temptress or a sin - she's a person. She's the person who taught me that love isn't meant to come with conditions, she's the one who taught me that I don't have to be afraid of myself." Hot, bleary tears form in his eyes, but he doesn't wipe them away or try to hold them back; he wants his father to understand the raw, bleeding truth of what this confrontation was doing to him. "So yes, I did it. And I don't regret it, and I don't regret her."

Paul's chair legs scrape against the tiles as he springs up from his chair. "I can't believe this… YOU HAD SEX WITH HER. SHE TOOK AWAY YOUR PURITY, AND YOU'RE GETTING CARRIED AWAY BY LUST!" He bellows.

"I'm not a victim, I wanted this! She showed me that purity is just a cage - that loving and wanting someone isn't a sin!" Leon's voice isn't filled with anger, but rather pain and defiance. "It's not lust, it's love! I love her, and you're supposed to be happy for me- you're supposed to love me no matter what!" Leon stares at his father - the man he spent majority of his life trying to please, realising that if he doesn't fit into that perfect cookie cutter shape of an upstanding man, then he'll never experience that love. "I feel like you're shaming me for simply being happy. And I won't let you. I won't." Leon pauses, turning around. "I'm going to pack a bag."

Leon could hear his father's yelling and slamming various objects from downstairs, but his words were drowned out by Leon's own thoughts. As Leon descends the stairs, he takes one last look at his father. His face is red with anger, sending Leon a stone-cold glare. Leon turns away, reaching for the doorknob. "This is exactly what the devil wants! SHE'S TAKING YOU AWAY FROM ME!" Paul bellows.

"You have God," Leon's voice is broken, "you have your church, your Bible study. You don't need me, you need a version of me that doesn't exist anymore." Leon doesn't look back as he shuts the door. He can't bring himself to.

Only an hour later, Leon turned up at your doorstep. You immediately register what happened, letting him in and bringing him in for a long, comforting hug, before letting him take a brief shower. He settled into bed with you that night, and you could feel his body trembling, even as he fell asleep in your arms.

The following morning, you step outside to make a call before Leon could wake up. The sight of him alone was making your heart break - you can spot the deep, hollow purple crescents under his closed eyes, and the small patches of tears that dried on his face during the night. You press your phone to your ear, the line ringing twice before you hear his father's tired, hoarse voice.

"Kennedy household."

"Hi… Mr. Kennedy." You begin.

"Who is this?" He asks - a lack of sleep evident in his own voice, and you identify yourself. There's a long pause filled with tension. "You." He finally says - the single word dripping with ice cold fury. "You have a lot of nerve calling this house." He spits out, but he doesn't hang up on you.

"I know what you think of me," you begin, your voice calm and steady. "And I'm not calling to argue, I'm calling you to let you know your son is safe." Another beat of silence, but the line still doesn't go dead. "Leon showed up at my door last night, crying. He told me everything-"

"You mean he told you how he threw away EVERYTHING I raised him to believe in, how he chose some godless-"

"-He chose to be honest with you." You interrupt, your voice firm but not unkind. "He chose to tell you the truth instead of continuing to lie to your face. That sounds like something you raised him to do." Another pause of silence from Paul's end. "He told me he left his Bible behind, you know. He told me he looked at it and he couldn't pack it. Not because he doesn't believe in God, but because of what it has become in your house - a weapon." You add.

Only a long, gravelly sigh leaves Paul's end.

"He's sleeping right now. He's okay. And just so it's clear: I'm not trying to take your son away from you. I never was and I never will."

"…I lost him last night." Paul rasps.

"You didn't lose him. He wants to be a part of your life so badly that it's hurting him" You respond.

"If he wanted to be a part of my life, he wouldn't have gotten carried away with somebody like you."

"…Those are harsh words sir. Well, he's safe and you know where to find him if you change your mind. Goodbye." You press the red button, deciding that the interaction is not going to lead anywhere productive if it continues.

You lean forward on the balcony of your apartment, staring at the bright morning sun. Leon has about a month left until he graduates, and you know it's going to absolutely break him if his father decides not to attend.

Long day. That was all it was. He was tired. He had been working longer shifts lately, sleeping less, eating whenever he could. There was nothing strange about feeling worked out after a day like that.

He finally moved. His keys slipped from his fingers and landed on the small table beside the door. Except it wasn't where he normally left them. Leon stared at them for a moment. Usually, they went into the little ceramic bowl. Tonight, he had apparently forgotten it existed.

He sighed quietly. "Great." His voice sounded rougher than usual. Leon reached for the zipper of his jacket. It took him longer than it should have. His fingers felt slow. He pulled the jacket off with deliberate movements, wincing slightly when the fabric caught against his shoulders. For a second, he simply stood there holding it, too tired to decide what to do with it.

Then he draped it over the back of the nearest chair. Another thing he'd probably have to fix in the morning. He rubbed the heel of his hand against his forehead. There was a dull pressure behind his eyes, probably from staring at paperwork all day.

"Leon?" He looked up. You were standing at the end of the hallway, watching him. You'd probably heard the door. Your expression changed almost immediately. "You okay?" Leon straightened. "I'm fine." The answer came automatically.

You didn't move. Your eyes travelled over him. His wrinkled uniform, the jacket abandoned on the chair, his keys sitting in the wrong place. "You look exhausted." Leon gave you a tired smile. "Long day." It was easier than explaining. You seemed unconvinced. He couldn't blame you. Honestly, he wasn't even entirely convinced himself.

Something felt wrong. His skin felt too warm beneath his clothes, but every few seconds another chill crept down his arms. He swallowed. His throat felt dry. Maybe he was coming down with something. The thought barely registered before he dismissed it.

No. He couldn't be getting sick. He had to work tomorrow. And the day after that. And probably the day after that. "I'll be fine," he added. You gave him a look. Leon almost smiled. He'd seen that look before. "You said that three times in the last minute." He blinked. "...I'm fine." That earned him the smallest shake of your head.

For some reason, the sight made something in his chest loosen. He was tired. That was all. Just tired. He stepped further into the apartment, finally kicking off his shoes. Another shiver ran through him. Leon shoved his hands into his pockets and ignored it. He could deal with tired; he'd dealt with worse. He just needed a shower, something to eat, and a few hours of sleep. Tomorrow, he'd wake up feeling normal again.

Leon made it to the kitchen before he remembered he was hungry. Or, at least, he thought he was. He opened the refrigerator and stared inside for a few seconds, waiting for something to look appealing. Nothing did.

Usually, coming home meant eating whatever he could find first and thinking about the rest later. Tonight, even the leftovers you'd packed into a container that morning seemed like too much effort.

He settled for toast. It was the kind of meal that required almost no thought. He put two slices into the toaster and leaned against the counter while he waited. The apartment wrapped warm around him. Leon rubbed his hands together, trying to get rid of the lingering chill in his fingers. His headache had gotten worse, enough that every sound seemed slightly louder than it should.

The toaster clicked. He jumped. Leon frowned at it. "Seriously?" You looked over from where you were standing. He hadn't realized you'd been watching him. "You sure you're okay?" There was concern coating your words now. He reached for the toast. "I'm fine." The words came out quieter this time. You didn't answer.

Leon knew that silence. It was the kind that said you didn't believe him without actually calling him a liar. He took a bite anyway. The toast tasted like almost nothing. He chewed slowly, forcing himself to finish at least one slice. His stomach wasn't interested. After half of it, he put the rest back on the plate.

He stared at it. He should finish it. It was only a toast. But the thought of taking another bite made his stomach turn. So he didn't. Leon pushed the plate away and picked up his glass of water instead. He drank almost the entire thing. His throat still felt dry.

"You're not eating." He glanced at you. "I'm not that hungry." Another lie. Or maybe not. He wasn't sure anymore. His body felt heavy, as though every movement required an extra second of thought. Even standing upright was beginning to feel strangely exhausting.

Leon looked towards the clock. He blinked. It was earlier than he'd expected. Normally, he'd still be awake for hours, trying to sleep. But now, the idea of getting into bed felt less like a decision and more like something his body had already decided for him.

He pushed himself away from the counter. "I'm going to bed." You looked at him again. "So early?" Leon nodded. "Long day." The excuse was becoming repetitive. He didn't have another one. He left the unfinished toast on the counter. He even left one of the kitchen lights on behind him.

By the time he reached the hallway, the headache had settled firmly behind his eyes. He slowed down. For a second, he closed them. The floor seemed to tilt beneath his feet, making him stop. He took a breath. Sleep. That was all he needed. He reached his bedroom door and rested his hand on the handle. Behind him, he could hear you moving around the apartment.

Leon turned his head slightly. "Goodnight." You smiled faintly. "Goodnight, Leon." He gave you a tired smile in return. Then he disappeared into his room. The door clicked shut. Leon leaned against it for a moment. His skin felt hot now; his body, however, felt cold. He couldn't seem to decide which one he was supposed to be.

He changed into an old T-shirt and sweatpants without bothering to fold his uniform properly. His clothes landed in a small pile beside the bed instead of in the laundry basket. Another thing he would fix tomorrow. He pulled the covers back and climbed underneath them. The mattress had never felt so good.

Leon curled slightly onto his side, pulling the blanket higher around his shoulders. His eyes closed almost immediately. For once, he didn't think about tomorrow. Somewhere in the quiet apartment, he could hear you still awake. Probably wondering if he really was fine. He wasn't. But Leon was already asleep before he could admit it to himself.

Leon woke up because he was too hot. For a few seconds, he didn't open his eyes. He lay perfectly still beneath the blankets, half-conscious, trying to understand why his room felt like it was holding onto a nonexistent summer.

The air was thick and heavy. His skin was damp with sweat, and yet a faint chill ran through him whenever he breathed. He swallowed. His throat hurt. That was the first thing he noticed. The second was the pounding in his head. Leon slowly opened his eyes. The ceiling above him looked unfamiliar for a moment, blurred around the edges by sleep. Then he remembered.

He turned his head towards the clock on the nightstand. The numbers swam slightly before coming into focus. He stared at them. It was too early. Or maybe too late. He couldn't tell. Leon tried to move his arm. His muscles ached. His shoulders, his back, his legs. Even his hands felt strangely heavy.

He frowned and pushed the blanket away. Cold air touched his skin. He immediately pulled it back up. "No." His voice came out hoarse. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Come on." He needed to get up. That was what people did in the morning. They got up, showered, got dressed, went to work. A simple routine.

Leon planted one hand against the mattress and slowly pushed himself upright. For half a second, he managed it. Then the room shifted. The walls seemed to move sideways, the floor disappearing beneath him as a wave of dizziness rolled through his head. Lon grabbed the edge of the mattress. His breathing became shallow.

He waited a few seconds. The dizziness didn't go away. He tried to stand anyway. His legs immediately protested. A sharp ache travelled through his body, and his vision blurred again. Leon dropped back onto the bed. The mattress caught him with a soft bounce. He stared at the ceiling. His heart was beating too fast.

Then he lifted his hand to his forehead. His skin was burning. He frowned. Then Leon moved his palm down to his cheek, then back to his forehead as though checking himself twice would somehow produce a different answer. He was far too hot. And suddenly, yesterday made sense.

He closed his eyes. I'm sick. The thought came quietly. Leon opened his eyes again. "No." He said again. He reached for his phone. His fingers felt clumsy around it. The screen lit up. There were several notifications. A couple of messages. Fortunately, nothing important. He opened his work schedule. He stared at it. He could still go. He just needed a shower, something to eat, and coffee. A lot of coffee. He could push through one shift. He'd done it before.

Leon started typing a message.

I'll be there.

He stopped. His thumb hovered over the screen. A wave of nausea rolled through him. He swallowed hard and lowered the phone. Maybe after a shower. Yes. A shower would help. He would feel better once he was out of bed.

Leon pushed himself onto one elbow. The effort alone made his arms shake. He stopped. His breathing came heavier now. He looked towards the bedroom door. The apartment beyond it was quiet. You were probably still asleep. For some reason, the thought made him feel relieved. He didn't want you to see him like this. He didn't want anyone to see him like this.

Leon sank back into the pillow. His eyes closed. The room was still too hot. His head still throbbed. And somewhere beneath the fever and the exhaustion, there was one small, stubborn part of him insisting that he could go to work. That he just needed another few minutes.

Leon pulled the blanket closer around himself. He would get up soon. He would shower. He would get dressed. He would go to the R.P.D. He just needed to lie down for a minute first. Just one minute.

Y/N's POV.

Something was wrong. You knew it before you even looked at the clock. The apartment felt different that morning. Usually, by the time you were properly awake, you could already hear Leon moving around.

You stood in the kitchen, staring at the untouched mug you'd expected him to use. The apartment was completely still. You checked the time. Leon should have been up already. You frowned. Maybe he overslept. It could happen. Still, something about the silence didn't sit right.

You glanced towards the hallway. His bedroom door was closed. You waited another minute. Then another. Still nothing. You dried your hands on a towel and walked towards his room. The closer you got, the quieter everything seemed.

You stopped outside his door. For a moment, you simply listened. Not a single sound came from inside. Not even the sound of his phone. You knocked softly. "Leon?" Silence. Your eyebrows pulled together. You knocked again, a little louder this time. "Leon?" There was a pause. Long enough to make your stomach tighten. Then from inside: "Yeah." His voice sounded hoarse and weak. You frowned. "Can I come in?" Another pause. "...Yeah." You opened the door slowly.

The room was dim, the curtains still drawn. The air felt warmer than the rest of the apartment. And then you saw him. Leon was lying almost completely beneath the blankets. He looked completely collapsed. His body seemed to have sunk into the mattress, shoulders rounded and face half-buried in the pillow. His hair was damp and messy, sticking to his forehead.

For a second, you just stared. This wasn't the Leon who normally woke up before sunrise and somehow managed to look functional after barely sleeping. This was someone who looked like he'd been awake all night fighting his own body. You stepped closer.

"Leon?" His eyes opened slowly. Saying he looked tired was an understatement. There was a glassy quality to them that made your stomach drop. You reached for the curtains and pulled them open slightly. Weak morning light spilled across the room. Leon immediately squinted and turned his face away. That was when you noticed the flush across his cheeks. And the sweat at his hairline.

Your concern sharpened instantly. "You're sick." Leon shook his head faintly. "I'm fine." The words were barely audible. You stared at him. He tried to sit up. It took him far too much effort. One hand pressed into the mattress. His arm trembled.

He managed to lift his upper body a few inches before his face tightened, breath catching as another wave of dizziness hit him. You immediately moved closer. "Hey." Leon stopped. For a second, he looked almost confused. Then he let himself fall back against the pillows. His eyes closed.

You stood beside the bed, watching him. The room suddenly felt much warmer. You reached out instinctively, pressing the back of your hand against his forehead. Leon barely reacted. He was burning. Your stomach dropped. "Leon..." His eyes opened again. There was something almost apologetic in them. "I'm fine." He repeated again. You didn't answer. He looked like someone who was trying very hard to convince himself.

You pulled your hand away slowly, watching him sink deeper into the pillows as though even sitting up had taken everything he had. Then Leon looked towards the clock. His eyes narrowed as he tried to focus on the numbers. "I should really get going." You stared at him. "No." Leon frowned. "I can go," he said immediately. "You can barely sit up," you protested. "I'll be fine." You immediately reached for his shoulder when he pushed the blankets aside.

"Leon-." "I'm serious," he cut you off. He planted his feet on the floor. For one brief second, he managed to stand. Then his knees buckled. You caught him before he could fall. Leon gripped your arm, his breathing suddenly uneven. The weight of him against you was enough to make your chest tighten.

He stayed there for a moment, eyes closed, probably waiting for the room to stop spinning. You guided him back onto the bed. This time, he didn't argue when you pulled the blankets over him. But he wasn't fully giving up. "I'm a rookie." His voice was quieter now. "I can't just call in sick," he continued. "You have a fever; you can't go like this." Leon looked away.

The silence that followed told you more than his words could. You could almost see the thought of disappointing everyone crossing his mind. "What if Marvin thinks I'm exaggerating?" You softened. "Marvin will know you're really sick," you reassured him. Leon didn't answer. His fingers were trembling slightly.

You sat on the edge of the mattress. "You don't have to prove anything today." His jaw tightened. "I don't want them to think I'm unreliable," he whispered. "You won't be unreliable because you stayed home with a fever." Leon looked at you. For once, he didn't have an answer ready. You reached for the glass of water on his nightstand and handed it to him.

"Today you're staying here." He hesitated. Then took the glass. His hands were still unsteady. You watched him drink slowly, his eyes closing briefly between sips. The fight seemed to leave him little by little.

When he finished, you took the glass from him and placed it back on the nightstand. "Get some sleep." Leon exhaled a long, defeated breath. "Okay." It was barely more than a whisper. You pulled the blankets a little higher around him. Leon sank into the pillow again. His eyes were already closing when he realized what you were about to do.

Your hand had barely reached for your phone when his eyes opened again. "What are you doing?" You looked at him. "Calling Marvin." His expression changed immediately. "No." You almost smiled. "Leon." He tried to sit up again, which would have been more convincing if he hadn't immediately gone pale and grabbed the edge of the mattress.

You pushed him gently back against the pillows. "You're not going to work," you tried to explain. "I know," Leon protested. "Then Marvin needs to know," you added. "I can call him," Leon kept fighting. "You've been asleep for half the conversation." Leon frowned. He looked offended by the accusation.

You unlocked your phone. "Don't." You ignored him. "Seriously," he warned one last time. You searched for Marvin's number. Leon watched you from the bed, increasingly horrified. You pressed the call button. Leon stared at you. For a second, he looked like he genuinely couldn't believe you'd actually done it. "You're unbelievable," he huffed, a quiet laugh.

"Good morning," came Marvin's voice through the phone. You glanced at Leon. He immediately shook his head. You turned away from him. "Hi, Marvin. It's about Leon." There was a brief silence. Then Marvin's voice changed. "Is everything okay?" He asked. You kept your voice low, although Leon was close enough to hear every word. "Actually, he's sick. He's got a pretty high fever, and he can barely get out of bed," you explained patiently.

"I told you-." Leon started. You lifted one hand. He stopped with a sigh. There was another pause on the phone. Then Marvin sighed. "Tell him to stay home." Leon closed his eyes. You could practically see his pride taking physical damage. You smiled faintly. "I'll tell him," you said. "And make sure he doesn't worry about the tower of paperwork," Marvin joked.

Leon opened his eyes widely. "What?" You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. Marvin clearly heard him, judging by the chuckle he let out. "He's listening, isn't he?" He asked. "Unfortunately," you chuckled as well. Leon muttered something under his breath. "Tell him we'll survive without him one sick day," Marvin reassured him.

You looked over at Leon. "He says they'll survive without you one sick day," you repeated Marvin's words. Leon looked deeply unconvinced. "Tell him I said thanks," Leon said despite the sulking expression he had had ever since you clicked the call button. "You heard him?" You asked against your phone. A quiet hum came from the other side.

"Make sure he rests, okay?" Marvin said one last time before hanging up. "I will," you reassured. The call ended. You lowered your phone. Leon was staring at the ceiling. He looked miserable, not only because he felt sick, but because he had officially lost an argument and had just been portrayed as someone weak.

Leon sighed and pulled the blanket higher over his face. You couldn't help smiling. "Come on, you'll survive not being a hero for a day." A muffled voice came from underneath the covers, but you couldn't quite get what he said. Another sigh followed, but beneath the embarrassment there was relief. Leon finally had permission to stop fighting. And judging by how quickly his eyes closed again, his body had been waiting for it.

Once Marvin's call was over, the apartment settled back into silence. You looked at Leon. He was already halfway asleep again, buried beneath the blankets with only the top of his messy hair visible against the pillow. He looked smaller now. Less like the confident rookie who left every day in uniform and more like someone who had finally run out of energy to pretend he was fine.

You glanced towards the kitchen. Then back at him. He needed medicine. And probably something he might actually be willing to eat. You stood. Leon opened his eyes immediately. "Where are you going?" The question came out so naturally it caught you off guard. "The pharmacy." His brow furrowed. "You don't have to." You gave him a look. He sighed. Apparently, he knew that argument wasn't going anywhere anymore.

You walked into the kitchen and filled a glass of water before returning to his room. You placed it on the nightstand within easy reach. Then you picked up his phone from where he'd left it beside his pillow and plugged it into the charger. Leon watched you quietly.

"You really don't have to do all that." You adjusted the cable. "I know." You made sure the phone was close enough for him to reach without getting out of bed. Then you pulled the blanket back over his shoulder. "Don't get up." Leon gave you a tired look. "I wasn't planning to," he quietly laughed before it turned into a cough.

You grabbed your jacket from your bedroom. Before leaving, you paused in his doorway again. Leon was watching you. It struck you then how strange the scene felt. Usually, this was Leon. Leon leaving, Leon grabbing his keys, Leon heading out into the morning while you were still waking up or eating breakfast. See you later. You heard those words so many times they had become part of the apartment's rhythm. Something you barely noticed anymore.

Now the roles were reversed. You were the one standing by the door. Leon was the one staying behind. You looked at him one last time. "I'll be back." His expression softened. "Okay." You stepped into the hallway, leaving the door to his room half-closed. The front door opened, and a soft click followed as you stepped outside.

The pharmacy was only a few minutes away. You walked there quickly, hands tucked into your jacket pockets against the morning air, but you weren't really paying attention to where you were going. Your thoughts were still back at the apartment. The image of his flushed face, the damp hair sticking to his forehead, the way he'd tried to sit up despite barely having enough strength to hold himself upright wouldn't leave you alone. How could he keep saying he was fine when he looked like that?

You pushed open the pharmacy door. The familiar smell of antiseptic and clean shelves replaced the cold air outside. You walked towards the counter. The pharmacist looked up. "Can I help you?" You nodded.

You explained that your roommate had a fever and was feeling unwell. The pharmacist asked a few questions, and you answered as best you could. How long he'd been feeling sick. Whether he'd been able to eat, or whether he'd complained about anything else. You immediately thought back to last night. You found yourself worrying more with every answer.

The pharmacist recommended the usual things to keep at home and handed you what you needed. Medicine, a thermometer, a couple of packages of bottled water, and tissues. You added a few electrolyte drinks after being told they could be useful if he wasn't eating or drinking much.

The basket grew heavier with every item. You looked down at it. It felt strangely excessive. Then you remembered Leon trying to stand and failing. You added another package of water. Just in case.

At the counter, you paid and carefully packed everything into a bag. The pharmacist gave you one last piece of advice about keeping an eye on his temperature and making sure he stayed hydrated. You nodded. "Thank you."

Outside again, you adjusted the bag in your hand. The walk home suddenly felt longer. You imagined Leon alone in his room, probably asleep. Maybe staring at the ceiling, maybe trying to convince himself he was well enough to get up again. That last thought made you walk faster. You knew Leon. He'd probably wait until you were gone, then he'd decide he was feeling better and try to get out of bed.

You tightened your grip around the bag. "Idiot," you muttered under your breath, with a small smile creeping onto your face without even noticing. You really hoped that when you opened the front door, you wouldn't find Leon standing there trying to prove he was fine.

You were almost home when you saw it. The bakery came into view almost unexpectedly. You'd walked past it countless times without really looking, but something in the window caught your attention. A small handwritten sign sat beside a row of pastries.

Fresh today. With a pair of cute cinnamon rolls painted next to the text.

You stopped. For a second, you simply stared through the glass. Leon loved those cinnamon rolls. The memory surfaced without warning. One of those ordinary mornings that had somehow become part of your routine. Leon had been sitting at the kitchen counter, drinking coffee while you tried to wake up. You'd been talking about something completely unrelated when he'd mentioned someone at the station brought his favorite cinnamon rolls while pointing at the box.

You hadn't thought much of it at the time. But apparently, you had remembered. You looked down at the pharmacy bag hanging from your hand. You almost laughed at yourself. He probably won't want it. He could barely stomach toast. There was no reason to buy something sweet when he was feeling this awful. You should keep walking.

Instead, you pushed open the bakery door. The little bell above it chimed. Warm air wrapped around you immediately, carrying the smell of sugar, butter, and freshly baked pastry. You approached the counter. "I'll take one of those, please." The employee packed it carefully into a small box.

You paid and stepped back outside, now carrying two bags. The pharmacy bag in one hand, the bakery box full of cinnamon rolls in the other. You looked at them for a moment. It was ridiculous. Leon probably wouldn't eat any of it. But that wasn't really the point. Maybe seeing his favorite pastries would cheer him a little bit and would make him feel a little bit better.

You adjusted your grip on the bags and continued walking home. Somewhere along the way, you'd noticed that paying attention to Leon had stopped being something you consciously did. And today, when he was sick and stuck in bed, remembering felt like enough of a reason to bring his favorite pastries home.

The apartment building came into view sooner than you expected. You adjusted the bags in your hands, careful not to let the pharmacy bag swing too much. The little bakery box rested safely in your other hand, its cardboard still warm from the shop.

You unlocked the front door. The moment you stepped in, you noticed the stillness again. You closed the door behind you and stood there for a moment. "Leon?" Nothing. Your stomach tightened. You set the pharmacy bag down on the kitchen counter, followed carefully by the bakery box.

You glanced towards the hallway. His bedroom door was still half closed. You hadn't been gone that long, so he probably was still asleep. You felt the tension releasing from your chest. You walked down the hallway anyway. The closer you got, the quieter everything seemed.

You stopped outside his door. Then you knocked softly. "Leon?" A few seconds passed. No answer. Your hand settled on the doorknob. You opened the door carefully. The curtains were still partially open, letting a thin strip of daylight into the room. Leon hadn't moved much. He was still buried beneath the blankets, lying on his side with his face turned towards the pillow.

His breathing was slow. You let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. He was asleep. You stepped inside. You moved closer to the bed and looked down at him. His cheeks were still flushed with bright red, his hair was damp against his forehead, but at least he looked more peaceful than when you'd left.

You reached down and gently touched his forehead. Still hot. You frowned. Then you noticed the glass of water you'd left earlier, almost untouched. You sighed quietly. You looked towards the kitchen with the bag from the pharmacy. You'd deal with that in a minute. For now, you simply stood there beside the bed.

Leon shifted slightly beneath the blankets. His eyebrows furrowed. Then his eyes opened. He looked confused for a second. Then he saw you. "You're back." His voice was barely above a whisper. You smiled. "Yeah." His eyes drifted towards the door, then back at you. Something about the way he looked at you made your chest tighten.

You pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down. "I told you I'd be back." Leon blinked slowly. "I know." Then his eyes closed again. You stayed there for a few minutes before making your way towards the kitchen to sort everything out.

Leon was awake when you returned to his room. His eyes opened when he heard you approach, but they seemed to struggle to stay that way. He looked exhausted, his face still flushed beneath the fever, one arm resting loosely over the blankets.

You glanced towards the floor. His clothes were still there from earlier. You looked back at him. "You didn't get up, did you?" Leon was quiet for a moment. "...Maybe." You sighed. You reached for the thermometer you'd bought and sat down beside him. "Here." He accepted it without arguing. That alone told you how bad he felt.

A few moments later, you checked the reading. Still a fever. You reached for the water and handed it to him. "Drink." Leon took the glass with both hands. He drank slowly, stopping halfway to catch his breath before taking another few sips. When he finished, you gave him the medicine. He swallowed it with the rest of the water and immediately let his head fall back against the pillow.

The movement looked almost involuntary. You pulled the blankets back over him. "Do you need anything?" Leon stared at you through half-lidded eyes. You expected him to say what he'd said for the rest of the day. But he didn't say it. He simply shook his head instead. "No." It was quiet and honest.

You studied his face for a moment. There was something strangely vulnerable about hearing him say it. Leon had spent the entire morning trying to convince everyone, including himself, that he could keep going.

You adjusted the pillow beneath his head. His eyes closed again. You stayed beside him for another moment, listening to his breathing gradually settle. He looked completely exhausted. And for the first time, you realized that maybe this was what Leon needed more than anything else.

You reached for the glass and placed it back on the nightstand. Leon didn't open his eyes. But after a few seconds, his hand shifted beneath the blanket, moving slightly towards the edge of the mattress. You refused to believe he was quietly reaching for your hand that rested there and decided to believe he was simply trying to soothe his dizziness.

Leon's POV.

The medicine didn't make him feel better immediately. It took time. At first, Leon simply slept. When he woke again, the pounding in his head had dulled. His body still ached, his throat still hurt, but the fever didn't feel quite as overwhelming.

Slowly, Leon pushed himself upright. This time, the room stayed where it was supposed to. He sat there for a moment, waiting for the dizziness to pass. Then he noticed the bedroom door was open. You were somewhere in the apartment. He could hear the quiet sounds of movement from the kitchen.

Leon pulled himself out of bed. His legs felt weak, but they held. He walked slowly down the hallway, one hand brushing against the wall for support. When he reached the kitchen, he stopped. There was a small box sitting on the table. Leon frowned. He recognized the logo immediately.

His eyes stayed on it for a second longer than necessary. "What's that?" You looked up. "Oh, they had the cinnamon rolls you like on sale." Leon blinked. "The cinnamon rolls I like?" You nodded towards the box. "I thought it'd cheer you up." Something in his chest shifted.

He walked closer and opened the box. Leon stared at it. For a moment, he didn't know what to say. He was starting to get used to being speechless around you. He mentioned those cinnamon rolls one random morning over coffee, when you'd been talking about something else entirely. It hadn't been important.

"You remembered." The words slipped from his mouth almost absentmindedly. You shrugged. "Of course." Leon looked back at the box. It was such a small thing. You had already done enough for him; the pastries were completely unnecessary. And somehow, it made it mean more.

Leon swallowed. Something warm fluttered low in his stomach. He immediately blamed the fever. That had to be it. His body was doing strange things. He looked away from the box before you could notice the faint smile pulling at his mouth. "You didn't have to," he whispered. "I know," you said. "I just wanted to," you added with a smile.

He glanced at you before looking away again, before you could catch his expression. The stupid warmth in his chest hadn't gone away. Neither had the butterflies. Leon ignored both. He reached for the edge of the box, careful not to touch it. "Maybe I'll have some later." You smiled. "Whenever you want." Leon nodded.

He looks at the spider.

"...That's a big one."

“Honey…” you say.

He looks at you.

“Kill that thing.”

He sighs, rolls his shoulders, and walks toward the enemy. You watch him switch into something terrifyingly competent. Something dangerous.

The soldier.

He checks the exits. Checks the ceiling. Checks behind the refrigerator.

You whisper, so the spider doesn't catch wind of what's about to happen.

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure there aren't more."

Your eyes widen. "More?"

"Didn't say there were."

Leon crouches.

The spider scurries along the wall. A foot. Then another. Finds a shadow and stills.

You make a noise and grab the back of his shirt.

He doesn't even flinch.

"Stay there."

He reaches for the nearest weapon available.

A spatula.

You stare. "Really?"

“Should I go get my pistol?"

A laugh bubbles out of you, with a little desperation mixed in.

“He'll be gone by then!”

Leon approaches slowly.

The spider twitches.

Leon strikes. One clean hit.

The spider falls, its legs curling in like a wilting flower.

Leon looks at you, smiling easy, posture relaxed.

Now he was Leon again. Domestic, sweet, reverent Leon.

"It's dead."

You stare at the corpse.

"You saved my life."

His mouth twitches. "You weren't in danger."

"I could've been."

He shakes his head, smiling as he wraps the spatula in a paper towel.

"Yeah, yeah."

He walks past you.

"Buy bug spray tomorrow."

You mock salute. "Yes, sir."

"And maybe stop leaving the windows open."

You nod solemnly. "Yes, sir.”

As he starts to walk out of the kitchen, you call out to him.

"You're my hero."

He scoffs, a chuckle escaping him. “Yeah?”

You nod, moving closer. “Big, strong, tall hero.”

He raises an eyebrow. “And handsome?”

You nod again.

“And handsome.”

You kiss his cheek. Walk past him. Smack his ass.

Unfortunately for you, you were far beyond help. Instead, you were greeted by a recently turned rookie cop. Unlike the others, he seemed to shield you away from the rest of the dying city. You could say he was your savior back in Raccoon City.

“Leon, I have that date tonight. Don’t wait up,” you told him as you tidied yourself up in front of the mirror. Leon, looking cleaner than your average undead, grumbled at your words. To him, your date was unnecessary, especially with him keeping you company. “Stay…” he croaked, limping towards you to nuzzle you in the crook of your shoulder. “Stay…with Leon…” he mumbled again, pulling you close like a clingy dog.

“Leon, you can’t keep doing this every time I have a date,” you chuckled and pulled away gently. “Dinner is in the chest freezer. Be sure to thaw it out before you eat it,” you hummed and made your way to the door. “I’ll see you later, Leon,” you beamed and shut the door, leaving Leon to whine alone.

Hours later, you had come back home, but to Leon’s dismay, you weren’t alone. Apparently the date had gone better than he expected, aggravating him. He completely saw through them, noticing how their eyes only looked at you like you were a ticket to a good, one-night stand. Your date, on the other hand, went oblivious to Leon, thinking your references meant a pet.

Their hand brushed against your jaw, settling lower to the curve of your collarbone without much permission. “You’re amazing, you know that?” they purred as they shuffled closer than you would like. You chuckled nervously, “Do you mind? I’m not quite comfortable with the proximity…” Your words didn’t seem to break through to them as they only moved closer. “Then you better get settled. I love close proximity…” they chuckled and leaned in to capture your lips.

Before contact could be made, Leon stood up abruptly, causing your date to jolt and look back. “Who the hell are you?” they sneered, squinting at the dark. They stiffened as Leon stepped closer and into the light. Leon had just mauled his dinner, making it seem like he had just killed a man. Your date screamed, “What the fuck!?” Leon growled and snarled, marching forward. Your date panicked, pushing you towards him before leaping off the couch to flee the apartment. You stumbled into Leon, whose arms firmly wrapped around you. He wiped his grotesque mouth against the cloth on his shoulder before nuzzling your head, “Mine…”

“Seriously, Leon?” you mumbled, disheartened at the thought your date was so willing to leave you without further explanation. “I really…” you looked up at him, pausing. Leon looked at you with hearts in his eyes, nuzzling his nose against yours. “…thanks, Leon. I really appreciate that you’re here,” you caved and smiled, hugging him tightly. Leon let out a comfortable grumble, “Mine.” You chuckled, “Yeah, yeah…I’m yours. All yours, Leon.” Leon’s pupils dilated at your words, growing hungry with lust and need with your words.

Next thing you knew, he held you back on the couch with his head in between your thighs, slurping and claiming you for his own. “Leon…” you breathed out, your hand tangling in his hair. You tugged gently, causing him to emit a growl. His fingers clutched down harder, pinning your hips to the couch—his mouth moving faster than before. “Leon, Leon wait—“ your back arched as that familiar wave washed over you, leaving behind a pulsing ache between your legs. You glanced down at the greedy thing, seeing the hunger still deep in his blue, bloodshot eyes. He pulled your hips closer to him, grumbling. “Stay…not done yet…” he almost growled and dropped back to take you again.

Tuesday couldn't come slower for Leon Kennedy. He barely slept since the day he talked to you at the barbecue. He prayed to God every night, his chest flush against the corner of his bed on his knees, his hands clasped so tightly that it created a dull ache in his knuckles. It was more of a plead than a prayer - Leon was pleading God to show him the right path, to resist temptation, to give him strength. Unfortunately, the silence from above was deafening.

The perspiration on Leon's skin under his police academy uniform is a thin sheen, the moisture causing his blonde hair to stick to the back of his neck as he hurries inside the cafe you both agreed to meet at. It's a sunny Tuesday during his lunch break, and there's a pep in his step that his police academy friends have never seen before in their life. He's the first one to arrive of course, his posture upright as the brown leather -covered seat squeaks from underneath him as he shifts his weight. He's never lied to his father before, and with that came an odd, somewhat intoxicating rush of adrenaline and fear.

Leon's eyes lit up the moment you walked in. He took in the sight of you - the dark fabric of your shirt fitting you so perfectly, your jeans accentuating your figure with the denim clinging to your frame so obediently, and your dark boots making the softest click against the checkerboard patterned tiles. "Hey there. I hope I didn't keep you waiting long." You smile, taking your seat opposite to him.

"No, not at all! I just got here, this place is just a short sprint away." Leon grins earnestly. You blink at the word 'sprint' and note his slightly flushed cheeks, but you don't mention it - you don't want to risk reducing the man to a blubbering, blushing mess when you've only just sat down. "Anyway. Um, I'll pay for both our orders - after all, I'm the one who asked you here. It's my treat. So… What's your order?" He asks; his chivalry is ingrained in him, more reflexive than practiced.

"Uhhh. Haha, I kind of have a strange order." You lean forward a little, propping your head on your hand.

"That's okay. I want to learn more about you. Weird coffee orders and all." Leon nods.

"Okay, well… Just ask for a shot of espresso, and a glass diet cola with ice in it." You add.

"Together? In the same…?" Leon asks, gesturing pouring one cup into another. You nod to confirm. "That's… I've never heard of that." There's a mix of confusion and mild horror etched onto his face.

"Alrighty, one glass of diet cola with ice in it and a shot of espresso." Leon confirms your order. He places his flat white down on the table first, before handing you your espresso and glass of diet cola. As he did so, your fingertips barely grazed against each others, but it was more than enough to send a lightning bolt directly down Leon's spine.

"Thanks, Leon." You smile warmly, as he climbs back into his chair a little off-balance, his knee smacking the table ever so slightly, causing the ceramic cup of coffee to jolt a little.

"Oh no…" Leon softly groans, looking at the small spill he made that pooled to the divot of the saucer beneath his coffee cup. Wordlessly, you placed your drinks down on the table and handed him a wad of napkins. Leon shoots you a grateful smile, beginning to clean up the spill. "Thank you…" He smiles, watching you pour the espresso into the diet cola. "Okay… I'm not judging but, I need to see you drink that." Leon adds, folding his arms on the table as he leans forward a little, watching you with open curiosity.

"Yeah… It's definitely not for everyone, but I do actually drink this." You nod, taking a sip of the mixture. "I dunno. It's like, sweet and bitter, and the bubbles from the soda make it taste almost… Spicy? You can try it if you want. Don't worry, I won't be offended if you hate it." You offer, stretching the glass out to Leon. Leon stares at the rim, the ice cubes gently clinking together as you extend the glass to him. His gaze falls to the rim of the glass, the faint smudge of your lip balm printed against it. Leon took the glass in his hand, his fingers placed exactly where yours just were. The contact is just incidental - after all, people share drinks all the time, it's a normal thing. It's also an indirect kiss. The thought ricochets off his skull and right into his brain like a bullet. He is going to have his first indirect kiss with someone in a coffee shop on a sunny Tuesday afternoon over this cursed espresso-cola concoction.

Leon's lips raise to the glass, bringing the print of your lip balm right up to his own lips against the cold lip of the glass. The taste is confusing, it's bitter, sweet, and so fizzy it was almost like tasting TV static, all at once. He could also taste the vanilla from your lip balm. He sets the glass down, his tongue darting out just a little to wet his lower lip subconsciously. "That's…" He blinks. "It's not terrible, actually. It's strange, but I can see why you like it." He nods.

"Really? You're not lying just to placate me, are you?" You smile, drinking from the exact same spot he just sipped from. His eyes flicker to your lips, trying to suppress the thick gulp at the thought of your lips against his.

"No, no, really." Leon gives you a small smile in return. "So, you've got a while before you graduate university and begin work… What have you been doing in the meantime?"

"Oh. Hmm, I've been catching up on reading some comics and manga series I've fallen behind on. Lounging around watching some horror movies, and playing video games. Just lazing around, guilt-free now that I don't have to worry about assessments and exams anymore." You respond.

"Wow, really? Oh, cool! I read comics and play video games too."

"What? Really? We have so much in common. I mainly read DC, I read a lot of Batman but I read even more Nightwing." Your eyes light up. "What about you? What are your favourite video games and comics?" You ask Leon, eagerly leaning over the table just a smidge more.

"I play a lot of Pokemon and Mario. But I play some Street Fighter as well, but I'm much better on the arcade machines…" Leon takes a small sip from his mug. "My dad… He doesn't know about my Gameboy. I keep it hidden, it's buried between my winter sweaters and socks in my drawer." He admits, as if he were confessing some kind of heinous crime.

…Some time had passed at the cafe as you bonded over your common interests with Leon - you found out that you play plenty of the same games, and read many of the same comics. Due to Leon's stricter upbringing, he wasn't allowed to watch horror movies due to his father citing it as 'demonic'; however he mentioned he's always been interested in branching out into different genres, but even as an adult he feels a strange sense of guilt for wanting to explore a 'forbidden' movie genre. But to Leon none of it mattered - you were asking and answering so honestly, it was like he was looking through a door that was left slightly ajar; a portal into a completely different world. Which is exactly why he couldn't stop himself from asking if you'd like to go to the nearby arcade with him on the following Friday night. Leon couldn't tell what spiked his adrenaline more - the fact that you agreed, or the fact that he was spending time with somebody that half of his congregation, especially his father, would clutch their pearls at.

Every night until that following Friday, Leon would lay down on his bed with the soft orange glow of his bedside lamp with his Bible resting on his comforter, splayed open to Corinthians, but he couldn't bring himself to pick it up and actually read it. He could only stare outside deep in thought - deep in thought about you, as the shine of the street lamps cast tall shadows throughout the street. He could barely sleep a wink that night.

You give Leon a wave as you spot him walking towards your apartment, which is on the way to the arcade. Walking through town, you and Leon share more about yourselves and your interests when he suddenly slows his pace down a little and turns to you, mumbling your name.

"Yeah, what's up Leon?"

"…I feel like I didn't exactly thank you properly for earlier. At the barbecue. And for the cafe." Leon's jaw briefly clenched and unclenched, not out of anger or frustration, but as if he were chewing on something tough that he wanted to spit out. "I just mean, um, at Church. They see this version of me. A Christian man. The son of a cop. A future police officer. They see me as a person who is a person of principle and to be a person that upholds these principles all the time." Both yours and Leon's pace slow to a halt. Leon's gaze drops down to the shadows your bodies cast on the afternoon sun across the pavement - the almost rigid silhouette of his t-shirt and jeans, yours relaxed in your flowy skirt that swayed gently with your movements.

"But they don't see me as… I guess they don't really know me. They don't know I play video games under my blankets, or that I enjoy comics to the point where they may even think it's idolatry. Or that-" Leon clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "That day of the barbecue. Nobody else knows about what happened. Nobody else knows I'm capable of… Desiring something like that…" Leon trails off, trying not to speak out into existence what had happened at the barbecue. "But you saw it - you saw me like that. And you didn't run away, or call me a pervert or a sinner. You helped me when I didn't know what to do. And then you got coffee with me like I was just a person. A normal person." Leon says with a shaky breath and a timid smile. "Nobody's ever let me just be a person before." He adds.

You take a small step towards Leon, his soft blue eyes looking at you with an expression that looks dangerously close to adoration, your heart fluttering like the wings of a swallow. "…I think we can be around different versions of ourselves around different people. And I'm enjoying being this version of myself with you. I feel comfortable around you, Leon."

His mouth opened and closed briefly before forming into a small grin, his eyes turning dewy. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get all- um, I'm fine. We're meant to play games and have fun." He blinks away the tears forming at his eyes as you both took a few more steps, reaching the arcade with the soft glow of red, blue, and purple neon lights in the window. As you step through the doors, Leon's raw expression is now replaced with a crooked grin as you approach the Street Fighter arcade machine. "Okay, important question." Leon turns to you, his hands shoved in his pockets. "Who's your main? Because I need to know who I'm up against. And if you say Chun-Li, I'm going to be very intimidated." Leon asks.

"Oh no, it's not Chun-Li." You smile, taking a seat at the bench as Leon slides in next to you. "It's Guile." You add.

"Guile!? You nerd! He's so broken!" Leon laughs, as he selects Ryu.

"Okay, damn, trash talking my main? It's so on."

The first round between you and Leon is intense, with Leon scoring a narrow victory with a well-timed counter. The second round was even more intense, with you surprising Leon at a huge comeback, chaining combos and juggling him with perfectly timed sonic booms and flash kicks. At the third round, you shoot him a sideways glance. "You're pretty good. I'm gonna have to get serious." You quirk a smile at him, taking the hair tie on your wrist and wrapping your hair into a loose bun that exposed the curve of your neck, highlighting the skin exposed above the neckline of your tank top. A hot sensation creeps up the back of Leon's neck as he stares for a moment too long, his hands suddenly becoming clammy. He can't help it - as the round starts, his mind almost automatically roams back to the day of the barbecue, when you talked him through it and licked his neck.

Leon was too engrossed in his thoughts - the round started and you got the first hit. Leon begins to bounce his leg as he tries to focus on pulling off a combo, but he falters halfway, as he notices his leg bouncing is causing the entire bench to shake, and he sneaks a quick peek at your chest jiggling from the motion he's created. Leon's breathing hitches in his throat, as he tries to keep his eyes glued on the screen and his leg still, but the image is already in his head. It's too late. He can already feel the blood rush to a place that it absolutely should not in a public place, and there's nothing he can do to stop it. You're juggling him with a seemingly endless combo, until Leon manages to pull off a block and special move. In his haste, Leon smacks the wrong button, delivering a punch instead of a kick, to which you see an immediate opening and… "No!" Leon's voice cracking in an uncharacteristic way as Ryu drops to the ground.

'K.O!!!!' The machine blares out, the announcement somehow feeling personal to Leon. You turn to him with a grin. "Good game." You extend your hand triumphantly. He shakes it, and you notice his slightly clammy hand, but you don't say anything.

"You completely kicked my butt. You're kinda scary, you know that?" He chuckles as if he's just run a half-mile marathon.

"Haha, to be fair, I played an abnormal amount of fighting games when I was younger. Wanna switch to something more casual?" You ask him.

"Y-Yeah, maybe we could do uh, air hockey?" Leon asks, desperate to leave the bench. You're sitting too close - his eyes can't stop dropping down towards your neck, the scent of your skin too heady.

"Sounds good. Although I have pretty poor hand-eye coordination with these things, so I'm expecting to get my ass handed to me this time." You grin, as you both get up and head over to the air hockey table. The moment you leaned over to grab the pusher, Leon's eyes couldn't help but roam to the exposed flesh of your chest, barely peeking through the neckline of your top. He swallowed, thickly, leaning over and staring at the puck. Leon makes the first move, pushing the puck at a tricky angle, unintentionally causing you to lunge for the puck and flick your arm out at a fast pace.

The way you were leaning over the table, your body elongated, the way your chest spilled over the neckline just a little, your breasts jiggling with the force was too much for Leon. Entirely too much. He was trying his best - he kept his gaze strictly on the puck, trying to ignore the creeping heat that crawled its way from the back of his neck to the tips of his ears, but he already saw it. Leon's focus is entirely shattered, and you completely dominated in a game that was tipped entirely in his favour. "S-sorry, um… I just need to use the bathroom real quick." His cheeks are tinged pink and he has a sheepish expression in his eyes. You don't want to push him, so you nod understandably as you take a seat on a stool, drinking a soda you plucked from the vending machine.

Meanwhile, inside of the arcade bathroom, Leon has trapped himself in a cubicle, sitting on the lid of the toilet with his hands clasped together so tightly, taking quiet deep breaths as he fights with every ounce of his being to will this erection away. "Lord… Lord I am being tested by temptation… Please give me strength…" Leon whispers, unsure if he's truly whispering to God, or maybe he's whispering to himself.

After a couple more deep breaths, Leon steadies himself, walking towards the bathroom mirror. The waterline of his eyes are tinged a little red from his efforts to squeeze his eyes shut and visualise something - anything - other than the curve of your neck, and the flesh of your chest. Flipping on the bathroom tap, Leon splashes his face with cold water, a feeble attempt to cool his face down as he knows he's immediately going to blush furiously at the sight of you once again.

He steps out of the bathroom, sliding into the chair, giving you a diffident grin. You spot the damp patches of his sandy-blonde hair that have plastered to the edges of his face, a sign that he had splashed his face with water. "Hey… You feeling okay? If you're unwell, you don't need to push yourself. We can head home early." Your voice is full of concern as you scan his face.

"No no, no… Um…" Leon chuckles nervously, but the anxiety eases as you look back at him with a steady look. "I'm so sorry. I was totally fine, I was focused, I wanted to play games and have a good time with you. But then the bench… And when you leaned over… Your… Uh-" Leon swallows thickly. He can't bring himself to finish his sentence. "We're in public, there are literally families all around us. And I'm… I took so long in the bathroom, you probably think something is wrong with me." Leon paused, his shoulders holding visible tension as he turns to you. "…Is there something wrong with me?" His question to you came out small and genuine. Vulnerable, even.

"Leon… Nothing is the matter with you at all. I'm having a lot of fun being here with you, this is a really nice date."

"You're having fun? You're not… Disgusted by me? By this?" He shifts, a look of defenceless etched on his face.

"Why would I be disgusted with you?"

"Because… You're saying there's nothing wrong with me, but I'm sitting in an arcade with… With a problem because… All because a girl leaned over a table." Leon explains in a shaky tone. "You… You leaned over a table. I've never reacted to anybody like this in my entire life, and now it feels like I can't stop. I can't stop even though it's only been a week. And I don't want you to feel like you're to blame, because you're not. It's me. If something feels good, I'm always checking if it's a sin or if I'm falling into the Devil's temptation. Like I need to pray harder, resist more." Leon fidgets with the hem of his shirt. "But I don't feel tempted right now. I don't want you to feel like you're doing something wrong because I feel this way. And I'm… I don't know what to do with this feeling." He adds, staring at you with guilt and terror, but there's something underneath his gaze. It's something warm, and desperately sincere.

"It's alright, really. I know you don't mean any harm. Your brain must've been split in two ways this whole time, huh?" You lean closer to him, your soft stare and understanding tone causing Leon's shoulders to relax just a fraction. He nods, a brief beat of silence between you both.

"You really think it's a nice date?" He asks with a tender look in his eyes.

"Yeah. I'm having a lot of fun chatting with you and playing games, it might actually be the best first date I've ever had." You nod at him.

"Best first date…? Y-you're serious? Because… I'm a complete disaster right now. I've never had a date of any kind, and I spent half of it in the bathroom and the other half totally sucking at arcade games. But you're saying it's the best first date and I haven't even kissed you yet." Leon responds, his eyes immediately widening after he realises he spoke the last part of his sentence out loud. "Wait- um, I didn't mean to presume… Like if you wanted, but I don't know how to-"

You silence his rambling by leaning forward and kissing him. His first kiss. Your kiss is gentle - no tongue and teeth, just a chaste, brief, sweet kiss. You force yourself to break the kiss, worrying that maybe if you lingered a little longer, perhaps Leon would taste the desperation on your own lips.

"Oh… That was…" Leon whispers, his fingertips fleetingly grazing across his plush lower lip as he looks at you, as if he needed to confirm that what just happened was not a hallucination of his. There wasn't a trace of guilt or shame in his eyes this time - just a warm, earnest adoration as he looks at you. "That my first, um… Could we… Do that again?" He says, his voice barely audible above the bustling sound of families and arcade machines.

"Yeah. But… Maybe not in the arcade around a bunch of families. Let's go to the park nearby." You grin, taking his hand in yours.

The small park just two blocks down is dead quiet, with only four measly street lights placed at the corners, barely illuminating the swings and the bottom of the big red tunnel slide. Both of your footsteps crunched on the wooden chips at the bottom of the park, echoing into the balmy summer night air. You climb up the playground with Leon, sitting at the top of the tunnel slide, allowing for total privacy… Or as much as you could get in a public park at night. "Sorry if I was um, bad at it earlier. I've never kissed anyone before, in case that wasn't obvious." Leon admits, grateful that the night sky served as a blanket to dim the hot flush of his skin.

"No, no, it was nice. Really nice." You turn to him with a soft grin, your glossy lips catching faintly in the blue glow of the moonlight. Leon can't help himself but to study your face for a moment - the way your gaze was so gentle when you looked at him, the way your hair has fallen into loose strands framing your face, the smell of your perfume flooding his senses. He swallowed thickly.

"So, um… Could I…?" Leon leans in a little further. "Is there a way you'd prefer to be kissed? Or do I just kinda, figure it out?" Leon whispers, tucking a stray strand of your ear beneath your ear gingerly, as if you were made of glass and you might just shatter if he didn't handle you with care. "Tell me if I do it wrong… Please." He breathes out, his pupils dilated.

"Just do what feels right… I do like being held, though." You nod, your mouth now centimeters away from his. He moves his hand from your jawline to gently holding you by the nape of your neck, his fingers delicately tangling in your hair as he uses his free hand to steady you at the small of your back.

"Okay." He whispers, leaning in.

Leon's lips press against yours with a hesitant pressure, a pressure so light it felt like the wings of a butterfly against your lips. The angle is a little off, his movements a little clumsy - but he recalls you telling him to simply do what feels right. Leon tilts his head again once more, deepening the pressure as he slowly moves his lips against yours. He lets out a sound he wasn't entirely sure he was even capable of making - a quiet and breathy sigh, full of undiluted awe and pleasure. Kissing you feels completely right to him; more correct than any passage he's read or prayer he's uttered. You both pull away for air.

"That was… Nice. Really nice, actually." You breathe out, his forehead leaning against yours. "Wanna do it again?" You ask him, biting your lip. Leon could feel every nerve cell in his body igniting.

"Yeah." He breathes out raggedly, staring at your lips once more.

The next kiss had no hesitation, no questions for permission. Leon's hand tangles deeper into your hair as he pulls you closer by the small of your back, your bodies pressed flush together as the kiss deepens this time. You let go of the restraints, finally letting him taste the desperation on your lips that you've been harboring this whole time. The kiss fast becomes messy and full of desperation on both of your account.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know how to stop." Leon pulls away suddenly, looking at you with flushed cheeks and doe-eyes. You can see it - the good Christian boy trying to stick to the scripture that he's expected to live and die by, and the man who wants you in practically every single sense of the word.

"Then don't stop. I like this. I like you. You don't have to think, just have to feel." You grin, pulling yourself onto his lap, leaning in and kissing him once more. Only this time, the kiss is slower and more exploratory. Leon feels a wave of courage as he holds you as close as he can, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips for entry. Your part your lips, granting him access, the tip of your tongue languidly stroking against his as you let out a soft moan.

"I-I don't know how to feel without… Guilt. Shame. I've always been taught to control and… Resist." Leon pants through kisses.

"It's okay. You can feel this. This is okay. You're allowed."

"I'm allowed?" He repeats your words as a question, a very fragile and desperate question.

"You're allowed." You repeat, your words a soothing balm against the raw wound of religious guilt. And then he kisses you once more, and this time, he really does just feel. He feels you, the swell of your lips, the taste of soda on your tongue - he's practically devouring you now, as if he's trying to consume you with a kiss. His tongue reaches yours once again - the kisses becoming messy, hot, and wet, and it's perfect. You feel Leon's hips involuntarily buck forward beneath you in a desperate thrust, gripping your hips. Your hands guide his own to your ass, and he grips it with gentle pressure as he feels you. He's practically rutting against you, completely and utterly lost to the feeling of the warmth of your body against his.

Leon whimpers into your mouth. "I… I can't… I think… I'm going to-" His body goes taut as he cums right there and then. He actually fucking orgasmed, just from making out with you in his lap, like some kind of horny teenager. You practically swallow his moans and whimpers as his body shudders, biting back a grin as he chokes on a sob of pleasure right against your mouth. "Oh, oh god, I'm sorry-" Leon looks down at the aftermath - a dark stain blooming against his jeans. He buries his flustered face into the crook of your neck, his body still slightly quivering. "Oh no, I couldn't… I'm so disgusting… I-I ruined it." Leon looks at you with tears pricking in the corner of his eyes.

"Hey, hey… You didn't ruin anything. You have nothing to be sorry about. Do you really think that what you did was disgusting?" You ask him, your voice remaining gentle and steadfast. Leon lets out a short whimper and a nod; an admission of his guilt. Hiking your skirt up and grabbing one of his hands, you lead his hand to roam underneath your skirt, his fingers barely grazing against the sopping wet fabric of your underwear. "I'm just doing this to show you that I'm not disgusted by you at all. The complete opposite, in fact. What you did… It turned me on." You whisper, letting go of his hand.

Leon stares at his hand, the sensation feeling like some kind of hot, wet brand against his fingertips. "You're wet… Because of me?" He asks you, and you nod. "I made you feel… Like that." Leon whispers, realising that the animalistic, desperate, pathetic thing he just did just aroused you. Suddenly, his chest feels like porcelain that has just cracked wide open. He felt pride. "I want to… I want to do this again. I want to make you feel good. Properly. Not just grinding on you like a…" Leon winces, recalling what he just did. "I want to make you feel good. Will you teach me how to make you feel good?" Leon asks, his pale blue eyes wide open with a desperate and raw honesty.

"I can teach you." You nod, kissing his cheek. "But let's do another day. Maybe this weekend at my place." You explain, removing yourself from his lap as you rise to your feet, stretching your legs and lending him your hand.

"T-this weekend?" Leon asks, and you nod.

"Okay. I'll… Come up with something to tell my dad. I'll see you this weekend." He says, taking your hand in his own slightly sweaty one. Leon has never lied to his father before all of this - but now he's about to lie to his father again. The feeling of excitement to see you again has overridden his guilt entirely, and Leon is terrified of that. But he chooses not to unpack it.

It was a simple lie.

"I'm going to have a study session with my police academy friends for the upcoming theory exam."

It was that easy to lie. But it wasn't easy to feel the after effects of such an enormous lie. His father - the man who took Leon in as a child after he lost both his parents, the man who taught him how to tie his shoelaces and how to throw a baseball, simply grinned at Leon and told him he's proud of him for applying himself and being so dedicated to following in his footsteps as a police officer. He even handed Leon a packet of cookies, telling him to share it with the boys, before telling Leon to go and make him proud.

On the way to your apartment, the packet of cookies his father gave him felt like he was carrying a brick. Leon couldn't seem to bear the weight of it anymore, and he reluctantly threw the cookies into a trash can near the bus stop, before walking up to your apartment complex.

Leon took a deep breath, texting you as he traversed up the steps, letting you know he's close by. He's so lost in thought on the way to your front door that his foot catches on thin air, and he almost stumbles. But his brain suddenly feels as clear as glass when you swing the door open, greeting him with a smile.

"Hey there, stranger." You're holding the door open wearing a blank tank top without a bra, short grey lounge shorts, and your white crew neck socks. Leon has never seen you this comfortable or at ease in your own place before. The guilt of throwing away that packet of cookies was totally eclipsed by the sudden intense buzzing of every single nerve fibre in his body.

"…Hey." Leon shoots you a shy smile back before taking his shoes off at the entrance. He seems a little comfortable in your presence - since that date at the arcade and the constant texting during the week, you notice his shoulders aren't so stiff and his posture isn't so rigid this time. A warmth blooms within your chest at your own silent observation.

"Oh, welcome to my place." You gesture, giving him a quick tour of your place. Leon was taking in every single detail - the landlord special of white painted walls and walnut wooden flooring still managed to be moody and eclectic. Thrifted hardwood bookshelves and cabinets lined the walls, full of books, trinkets, and other knick-knacks, with a rich oxblood-coloured Persian rug being the moody centrepiece.

"Is that… Do I smell a garden or something?" Leon asks, his eyes traveling towards your lit tomato-leaf scented candle.

"Yeah, oh, that reminds me. Should probably blow that out now." You say, bending down towards the candle and snuffing it with a short puff of your breath. Leon forced himself to keep his eyes on the salt lamp on your shelf, instead of staring at your ass. It's a very interesting salt lamp. Way more interesting than the curve of your ass and- Oh god, he's looking right at your ass. You then gave him the rest of the tour of your apartment, before opening your bedroom door. Leon's cheeks flush crimson, he's never been inside another girl's room before. And it smells so distinctively of you.

"Your room… It's nice. It's really cozy." He compliments, a brief beat of silence. "I've never been inside a girl's bedroom before." He adds, looking down at his grey socks.

"It's okay, really. There's no pressure, I just want you to remember that. How about we just chill for now, maybe cuddle?" You ask him, as you gently lead him by the hand to show him a few of the things you keep in your room. Your jewelry tray. The little painting of a flower you made with friends at a paint 'n' sip. Your favourite framed artworks, hanging on your wall in various frames and sizes in an organised chaos.

"It's so well-decorated… I still have my walls painted a light blue from when I was in middle school. I think I had one poster on my wall at some point… Maybe. Thank you for showing me your room, it's… It's like a snapshot of who you are as a person. I really like it." Leon politely remarks as you both sit on the edge of your bed.

"I'm glad." You smile, turning to him. "…I really want to cuddle you, if that's okay. But we go at your pace if you're not comfortable with that." You request.

"I… I'd really like that." Leon smiles, as you crawl backwards onto your bed. His frame is as stiff as a board despite the plush feeling of your mattress - he's so obviously rigid because he's never done something like this before. "Do I…?" He trails off as you face him, settling into his arms as your cheek leans on his chest. Leon's hands hover for just a moment, unsure of where to put them. But as he relaxes into your touch, his hands find their way to the small of your back and the top of your shoulder, loosely wrapping you in his arms.

"…I can feel your heartbeat." You softly chuckle. It's thudding fast against his ribcage, like a trapped hummingbird, battering against the bars of a cage to free itself. Leon tightens his arms around you just a little more at the comment.

"I can feel your heartbeat too. But it's a bit slower than mine… Is it because you… You're used to this feeling? Or you're relaxed?" He asks out of genuine curiosity.

"…Neither. I've been breathing deeply and purposely trying to calm myself down so I don't jump on you and eat you alive, actually." You chuckle, looking up at him from his chest. "I don't want to scare you off too quickly. But yeah, I suppose it's easier to calm myself since I feel so safe with you." You add in a tender tone.

"Wait, you're… Holding back for me?" Leon blinks almost owlishly, as his brain seems to stutter, reboot, and then reconfigure. The thought of you holding back for him, to restrain yourself for his benefit - it unfurled something searing and dangerous in his gut. "You don't need to- I mean, you can, but, I don't want you to hold back because you're worried about… Breaking me." He looks down at you with an affectionate expression. "Actually I might break, but I don't want you to treat me like I will. I trust you. I really do and I… I really like you. I want to do this. I want you to teach me how to take care of you." He adds in a small but earnest voice.

The corner of your lips curl into a genuine, sincere smile. "…I really like you too. And I really want you to enjoy this, so… We'll take it slow, okay? I don't want you to feel guilty whenever you're with me. I'll stop the moment you don't feel comfortable, okay?" You whisper, and he nods.

"Can I kiss you again?" He tentatively whispers back in question.

"Of course."

You kiss him - it's a tender, slow kiss, brimming with affection. But upon the second kiss, it turns into something more hungry, as you hook your leg over his hip to pull him closer. Leon's hands roam over your body - the small of your back, the nape of your neck, the sides of your shoulders, your hips… His hands wanting to be everywhere at once. Leon moans your name softly, his hips bucking against yours with a whimper. He's painfully hard, only this time, unlike the barbecue and the park, he doesn't seem to flinch. "Teach me… Please… I want to touch you… Properly…" He breathes out in between kisses. "I want to make you feel good. Please… Show me where." He pleads with blown-out pupils.

"Alright… Do you want to learn how to do it with your mouth, or your hands?" You whisper, planting a kiss on his neck. Leon was almost certain his pulse momentarily flatlined at the sensation.

'I think it's cute when a guy has kind and soft looking eyes, because it's really cute when they look up at me all doe-eyed when they… You know…' Your words from the barbecue event replay in Leon's head.

"Mouth, please…" He barely croaks out, his face somehow turning even more red as his breathing turns ragged. "You mentioned, um, at the barbecue that you like it when… They look up at you. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since you mentioned it. Not once… Not a single night. I'm entirely new to this but- I want to try. I want to make you feel the way you made me feel." He confesses quietly.

"Oh… You've been thinking about me a lot, hey?" You coo gently into his ear. "Don't worry, you're learning. I'll guide you." You add, slowly rolling onto your back as he hovers over you, placing small kisses against your neck. His hands fiddle with the waistband of your lounge shorts.

"I guess… These need to come off." Leon murmurs, and you lift your hips off the bed so he can slide them off in one motion. You remove your tank top as well, the skin of your chest hitting the cool air of your bedroom. Leon instinctively lowers his lips from your neck to the swell of your chest, his hands gently grazing against your skin with reverence.

"Good guess." You chuckle affectionately as you gently pull the back of his head, closer to your chest as he plants soft little kisses, gingerly touching your breasts. As his lips wrap around one of your nipples, you let out a soft, needy whine, which spurs him on to sucking on your other nipple, his tongue gently flicking at it a few times experimentally. He pulls away from your chest, his lips a little swollen and flushed already.

"I really like those sounds you make. I… I want to hear more." He says, lowering himself to your hips. "I… I might be bad at this, like, really bad. But I'll listen. I'll do whatever you tell me." He admits, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh. "I think I'm ready. Tell me what you like, please…" He adds in a whisper, his eyes looking up at you, full of devotion.

"Alright." Your voice is soothing and sincere as you slide your underwear off your hips. Leon is frozen like a statue at the sight of you - his jaw hanging open agape at the sight of you, his cheeks flushed and slightly dazed expression seems fixed in place for a good moment. "A-Are you okay? If it's too much we can stop here." You check in. Leon's eyes settle on the sight of your puffy, glistening folds - proof of your arousal. Proof he's making you feel good. Physical proof of your desire for him. "…Leon?" You call out to him. He blinks, his gaze slowly lifting from your dripping wet cunt to your face - the expression of genuine concern and kindness.

Something that Leon had locked away and left to calcify seemed to finally crack, and it cracked wide open. "No," he whispers hoarsely. "No, it's not too much. It's- You're perfect." He looks up at you. "Please tell me what to do. Please, I'll be good. I'll do everything you say." He rasps out.

You gently grab his hand, moving his thumb to your clit. "Here is where the most nerve endings are which you should focus on," you move his hand to stroke your folds, "…And here is where there's less, but it still feels nice to the touch, so you don't need to neglect it. Just start with a slow pace and build up to a fast rhythm." You instruct, tilting your head, noticing he's still staring with wide eyes. "Still with me, Leon?"

"Y-Yeah, I am…" He nods visibly, as if you just pulled out of a foggy dream, and you reach out to stroke his jawline momentarily. He nuzzles into your hand, as if he were a puppy seeking affection.

"Good. You can start whenever you feel comfortable." You whisper.

Leon leans forward, taking a slow, tentative, experimental lick in one slow, flat, broad stroke. All the way up from your hole to your clit. The taste was something foreign but very welcome - slightly salty, sweet, and musky all at once. He feels you shudder underneath his touch, the small gasp that leaves your lungs. And that's all it takes. He repeats the motion once more, this time making those slow, deliberate strokes as if he's intentionally remembering, so he can commit your body to his memory. It's clumsy and a little uncertain, but he's your dedicated student.

"Like this?" He murmurs, his words muffled against a mouthful of your pussy. He focuses his tongue on your clit, starting off with slow and unsure strokes. Your back arches off the mattress, and he watches your expression contort into one of pleasure. Leon quickly falls into a rhythm of evenly-paced wet circles against your clit, his eyes showing intense concentration as he looks for every little whimper, mewl, and twitch of your body to learn what makes you tick. "Am I… Am I doing a good job?" Leon asks, looking up at you with those soft, doe-eyes. That's what you wanted to see.

"Yeah… Yeah. You're doing so good for me."

"Good… Because you taste so good…" Leon dives his head between your thighs once more, his efforts more hungry now as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking with a gentle and steady pressure before flicking at it with his tongue. Your hips buck into his mouth and a needy moan escapes your mouth. 'Oh. She likes that.' Leon thinks to himself, before doing it again, but this time with a little more pressure and keeping an even, steady rhythm. Your limbs begin to writhe and your cunt begins to twitch against his tongue, as Leon studies you with awe with every sigh, moan, and whimper that you make. "Is it okay? Am I doing it right? Tell me, please…"

"Y-yeah… You're doing perfect, baby. You're such a good boy. You're so fucking- Ah- So perfect for me." You whine softly, stroking his silky blonde hair. The praise was intoxicating to Leon; hearing that he's good. That he's perfect. He's not a sinner. He's not wrong for wanting something. Someone.

"Please… Say that again… Please." He whimpers against your cunt. The corners of his ears are prickled with tears, the overwhelming relief and emotion that he wasn't disgusting or tainted, but that he was perfect. In your eyes, in this act, he's perfect. "Again… Please." He rasps out needily. He doesn't wait for an answer - his efforts redouble, his movements now driven and purposeful.

"You're so good to me, you're so perfect- Oh- fuck… You're gonna make me cum, do you think you could do that? Can you make me cum, baby?" You ask as he looks up at you with glassy, affectionate eyes as his tongue is practically consuming you, his tongue working against you with so much fervor that you honestly think he might be devouring your soul at this point. He eagerly nods in response to your question, his tongue flicking and sucking relentlessly until you finally feel that coil snap in your lower stomach. His name tumbles from your lips as you cum all over his mouth, your orgasm ripping right through you as your body shudders. Leon doesn't pull away, he lets you ride your high out until you're completely spent.

"That was… Okay. Yeah. You're one quick learner." You chuckle breathlessly, kissing him as you taste yourself on his tongue. He moans into the kiss, and you look down at the large patch of precum that has stained his pants. "Okay… You took care of me. Now I'm going to take care of you. Just lay back." You whisper, kissing him once more. Flipping positions, Leon is now laying back, still keeping the same rigid posture he usually has - but you're certain that will change shortly. Your knees sink into the bed, your hands freeing his cock from the constraints of his pants and underwear.

Leon's chest is heaving as he looks down at you - the sight of you peering up at him through your eyelashes as your hand grips around his cock. You can feel his pulse wrapped around the flesh of your palm, his pink tip drooling and sticky with precum. "…You're so beautiful." Leon can't help but breathlessly murmur. While his entire body was rigid, his eyes were completely soft - staring at you with adoration and a sense of devotion so intense for him that it's spine-chilling. "I've never… Nobody's ever done this for me before." He whispers, before letting out a sharp gasp of pleasure at the sensation of your tongue darting out to make little kitten licks from the base to the very tip of his cock.

"That's okay. Just relax for me, yeah? I want you to enjoy yourself." You whisper against his skin. Your wet, pink tongue darting out to collect the salty-sweet pool of precum from his weeping slit. Leon's breath hitches in his throat, his hands reaching for your hair as he fondly strokes your head.

The moment your mouth engulfs the entire head of his cock, he lets out a needy whine. "O-oh, this is… Really… You're really… Oh, fuck…" The cuss tumbles from Leon's mouth so naturally. He never cusses. But he's also never had his cock in a woman's mouth before, so there's a first time for everything. Your mouth continues to work him, your hand falling in rhythm, as you create a tight, hot seal against his cock, stroking up and down.

His hips buck against his own will as he lets out a high-pitched, pathetic, whimper. It was the sound of Leon breaking. He's fucking your mouth, and he can't stop; in fact, he doesn't want to stop. The heat of your wet mouth and the pressure and pace of your hand is too much. It's all too much for him. He moans your name, choking on sobs of pleasure as he looks down at you with desperate, dewy eyes. "It's too much, I can't hold it- I can't, I can't, I'm… Ah-!" His voice is strangled and gravelly. He comes completely undone in your mouth, his orgasm so forceful that it momentarily blurs his vision and makes his entire body shake and shudder under your touch. He whimpers and moans as thick, hot white ropes of cum shoot right into your mouth, and you greedily lap up every single drop, keeping your mouth on him until he's entirely depleted, savouring the taste of him.

"How was that? You okay?" You ask him gently, pulling your clothes back on before crawling back to your spot right next to him on the bed. Leon simply lies there for a moment, as if someone had pulled the head and limbs off a toy doll, feeling like a bunch of disconnected parts. His powder blue gaze settles onto you, and he smiles softly.

"I… Think I just died. I think I'm dead." He lets out a short laugh, rolling onto his side to pull you close. "Sorry I didn't warn you, I just… It was really sudden and… Also you swallowed it- Why would you…? It's…" Leon swallows thickly, unable to finish his sentence as he holds you tighter.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, of course I did. It's so… What?" You ask him, as his shaky hand reaches out to cup your jawline delicately.

"I don't know… In the church, they say doing all these acts are unclean. Something like that is… Disgusting. I've been taught my whole life that it's shameful and sinful." He pauses, trying to choose his words carefully. "But you don't think I'm disgusting or dirty…?" He asks, his eyes displaying complete vulnerability.

"You're not disgusting or dirty. Not at all. I would never even think of you that way- well, unless you wanted me to." You chuckle, easing the mood a little. "I did it because I like you Leon. I like you and I mean that. And I really like being intimate with you. At your own pace, of course." You whisper.

"Thank you, I- I think I really needed to hear that. Thank you." Leon whispers back, pulling you impossibly tighter.

You both stayed that way for a while. After you cleaned yourselves up, Leon spent some time holding you in his arms as you watched a lighthearted comfort movie before he thanked you and made his way home.

The entire walk home, Leon feels like his brain and heart have been fractured. He's grappling with his actions and his faith, equal amounts of pride and shame like two tidal waves colliding directly against each other. He's unsure which feeling would win, but the feeling of anxiety is soothed by the memory of your touch. Of your words. And suddenly, it's not so bad.

Leon's keys jingle through the front door lock, his father sitting on the couch with a lukewarm cup of tea as he watches a baseball game. "Hey, dad." Leon greets his father, the casual tone feeling like a pebble stuck in his throat.

"My son! How did the studying go?" Paul grins at Leon, turning the volume down a little. Leon's brain flashes back to the bus stop trash can with the unopened packet of cookies sitting at the bottom of it, likely covered in food and litter. A pang of guilt hits Leon's chest.

"It was great, I'm feeling a lot more prepared now. But I'm so tired, I might've gone overboard on the studying." Leon nods, unable to hold his father's gaze for too long.

"Aw, don't worry about it. You did well! Have a rest. You've earned it." Paul beams proudly, as Leon nods and slowly makes his way up the stairs. "Oh! And Leon, we're hosting Bible group on Thursdays now. Don't forget!" Paul calls out.

"Alright, I'll write it down!" Leon responds, before retreating into his bedroom and shutting the door. Leon stares at his bible, the book splayed open to Corinthians. He lets out a slow exhale, and shuts it, picking it up and placing it on the top of his dresser, barely touching it as if it were a hot stone. For the first time in his life, his bible isn't resting on his bedside table.

The verses, the bible group, the expectations he's placed on himself, the expectations that others have placed on him… None of it matters. Nothing matters to Leon Kennedy anymore, except for the next time he'll see you again. And he's certain that's going to be very soon.

yeahhh i'm so doing a part 3 hope u guys don't mind teehee

I LOVE SUBMISSIVE WHIMPERING MEN

—

—

—

No one really tells you that the first year of marriage is oftentimes the hardest.

You’d been with Leon for so long, neither of you thought making it courthouse-official would change much. You thought you were simply promoting each other from boyfriend-girlfriend to husband and wife.

But somehow, every struggle seemingly got promoted to something more legitimate, too. And ever since your honeymoon in Mallorca, your honeymoon phase is MIA, lost along with your luggage.

You’d outgrown his apartment, as nice as the place was. You agreed on that, at least. But you couldn’t agree on the best place in D.C. to settle down. Probably because you both hated the city itself, though neither of you would say it out loud. You’re pretty sure your realtor was about to fire you as clients the sixth time you changed your mind between an apartment, a townhome, and suburbia. You did eventually find the perfect home with a big backyard and a marble shower to boot, but moving house together was a whole other subject.

You wanted to hire movers, Leon didn’t. You shudder to remember the person you became when you dropped the ump-teenth box, and his sigh as he came to help (again) was all it took to send you over the edge of frustration. Not your proudest moment, for sure.

It also didn’t help that the DSO met his promotion to husband with a promotion to mentor. He’d just been starting to be able to leave work early every once in a while, and suddenly, he didn’t even have time to take his lunch break with you in the break room. Instead, you spent your first few months of marriage picking at your leftovers in your cubicle while you ate alone, eventually spent crying because you knew he wouldn’t be home until bedtime, too.

And because he got home late, you did most things alone. Pretty much everything except put away dinner, since you left it on the stove for him. You felt like you lived alone. And when he was there, you had to spend your time talking about boring, important things, like letters from the bank, when your family should come into town, which one of you left wet clothes in the washing machine, and how the hell you’ll ever be able to have a kid if he’s not present.

That last fight was really bad. But how could you blame yourself? You basically had a sexless marriage six months in. You were dying from sexual frustration which didn’t help anything, and you could safely guess he was too by how he matched your bitter tone.

You just didn’t have time. And when you finally did, one of you was either too exhausted, too mad at the other, or Leon was too afraid of bioweapon brain matter being under his nails from his last mission.

What a normal relationship you had.

The sarcastic thought made you chuckle under your breath without meaning to, and you felt Leon stir on his side of the bed.

“Hm?” he mumbled tiredly.

“Nothing.”

You blinked out into the darkness of your moonlit bedroom for a moment, and then you turned around to him, nuzzling your head onto his chest. His arm instinctively wrapped around you, his thumb tracing light circles on your side. You sighed into his touch, but there was a sadness around the edges of the sound. He always picked up on things like that.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied. Another beat passed. Then, you simply told the truth. “I love you.”

His thumb stopped. You both realized it’d been a while since either of you said it outside of routine. Your heart ached, wondering how long you’d said it and really meant it.

He kissed your head before whispering into your hair, “I love you too,” and squeezing you tighter to him.

For the first night in a long time, you fell asleep somewhat content. You wondered if he did, too. You wondered why you couldn’t remember the last time that you did. You spent the next whole day trying to, and when you couldn’t, you wondered how it all went wrong. Finding no good answer, you called your friend who’d been married a lot longer than you and told her everything.

“This is actually really common, you know. Have you considered couples counseling?”

That’s what she had said to you, and that’s what you just said to Leon.

He looked at you from where you sat on the couch like you said you wanted a divorce. You tried again to swallow the lump in your throat as you watched something shatter in his blue eyes. Then, he looked down at his hands.

“Okay. If you think that’s what we need.”

You blinked at him. You really didn’t expect him to agree just like that. You’d really worked yourself up to have this conversation. To confront the fact that neither of you were happy. To say it out loud, to make it real. A brave act, and the first step on the path to fix it.

“Are you sure?” you squeaked.

Leon stood and hugged you tight, swaying with you in his arms as he held you like you might break.

“I’m sorry things have been so hard. I want us to be good again, too. So whatever you think will help, I’ll try.”

You hugged him back just as hard, and for the first time in a while, your release of tears held hope.

—

Your therapist is a godsend. Turns out, you both had a lot of baggage to unpack. Turns out, that’s easier to do together than alone. Not easy, but still easier at least.

In the past six months of therapy, you feel like you’ve learned just as much about each other and yourself as you had your whole relationship prior. Arguments have been traded for sit-down discussions, bitterness for tenderness, and at least two lonely nights a month have been traded for dates.

But still, every so often, you lie awake in bed despite your husband’s arms around you as he drifts off in sleep.

No one really tells you that even when things get better, you’ll still wish it didn’t take so much work.

You miss the before-times. The butterflies when you first met. When loving each other didn’t take the extra effort, as worth it as it was. Even though you’re happy again, you miss when everything was simple. You miss it terribly.

Maybe Leon wasn’t as asleep as you thought. A common occurrence. Still, you didn’t realize a tear had fallen ‘til he turned towards you and brushed it off your cheek.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He whispered, still maybe half asleep.

“Nothing,” you try, but a sniffle deceives you. Leon turns fully towards you, gathering your face into his chest. He speaks softly as he pets your hair.

“Tell me, it’s okay.”

You sigh and say it.

“Sometimes I miss the beginning. I miss when everything was easy.”

His hold tightens and he holds you there in the dark, firmly, keeping the cracks of your heart together with his strong arms in the way only he can.

“I know, baby. It’s alright. You can cry.”

You do, softly, and he holds you until you fall asleep.

Leon misses it, too.

The next day, he has an idea.

—

When he pitched this idea to you, you thought it was seriously corny. Possibly too corny for you to get into it, so much that you feared the hotel he booked in advance would go unused. Since when did he believe in your nonexistent improv skills? You were skeptical at best.

Then, you walked into this swanky restaurant and saw him sitting at the bar, swirling around a glass of whiskey as he sat alone in the amber light. Your heart pounded like a schoolgirl as you approached, leaving an empty seat in between you, pretending to ignore him as you waited for a bartender.

It really was like being strangers, meeting for the first time. And with every sideways glance he gave you, eyes raking down your exposed shoulders all the way down to your high heel shoes, your skin burned with anticipation.

Just as you got your first drink, he made the first move.

“Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so,” you acted. “Where do you work?”

“Classified.”

“Ooh, mysterious. Do you ask every woman that?” you asked sarcastically, pretending to pick apart his opening line the way you would any man at a bar.

“Only the beautiful ones.”

You kinda couldn’t believe that your blush was genuine. You took a long sip from your drink and swiveled your seat to face him. You took your turn to eye him up and down, your view settling on his silver wedding band still on his ring finger. It plucked your heart strings to know that even for this, he didn’t take it off. And that gave you an avenue to follow.

“More beautiful than your wife?”

Leon bit the inside of his cheek and smirked to hide the way he squirmed inside to find a good answer for that. Then he looked back at you as he answered slowly, measuring every word.

“My wife is the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“Then why are you here trying to chat me up?”

“Guess I can’t help staying out of trouble when someone like you sits next to me.”

“Someone like me..?”

He nodded once, his eyes darkening as he keeps them locked with yours. He looks painfully attractive, and you can’t help but to lean in.

“… And what kind of trouble are you trying to get into?”

“As much as you’ll possibly let me.”

—

You were right. The hotel was a total waste. A fleeting thought as Leon’s cock pounded into you over and over and over again right there in the restaurant bathroom.

You worried you’d break the poor marble countertop with how tight your hands gripped it with every thrust, trying desperately to hold onto anything to keep yourself up on your toes. But in fact, the only thing keeping you upright was Leon, with one bicep around your neck and his other hand tight over your mouth. You could feel your drool seeping through his fingers, but you didn’t exactly have the capacity to be embarrassed about it. Not when your cunt was weeping onto the tile between your feet.

“Keep it down for me. Don’t wanna get us caught, yeah?”

All you could do was whine as the deep rumble of his voice went straight to your core, as if you could even get anymore turned on right now.

“Look in the mirror, look at me. Keep watching me fuck your brains out, baby.”

The sight in the reflection was insane. You looked insane. Your hair was a mess, your carefully done makeup was smeared and running from your watery eyes, your sexiest little black dress pulled down below your breasts and up above your ass where he railed you from behind. And he looked impossibly hot, his bangs falling over his face and darkening his expression, his unbuttoned dress shirt barely hanging onto him, his muscles taught from the force he railed you with.

Your eyes went wide as a knock came from the other side of the door, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Occupied,” he said firmly, not even for a second stopping his assault on your pussy.

Somehow, your senses being put on alert heightened everything, and as your heart rate soared, your legs started to wobble beneath you. But Leon can read you like no other, and didn’t miss the opportunity to change the angle and hit right where would make you see stars.

You couldn’t help but to chant his name regardless of it being muffled under his hand. “Yeah?” he asked in response. “You like doing this in public? Letting me fuck you anywhere? That gonna make you cum?”

You nodded your head fervently, toes curling in your tights even before he reached down to catch your clit between his calloused digits.

“Then do it. Cum on my cock right here for me. Let everyone know who’s in here making you scream.”

And you did at once at those words, getting lightheaded from the force of it as you gasped for air through your nose as he muzzled you tighter to dampen the violent and embarrassingly high-pitched sounds that left your throat, blurry vision on the mirror as he chanted, “look at me, look at me,” and then he too choked on his words as they changed to, “you’re s’tight, fuck, fuck, let me cum inside, let me fill this tight pussy up, please, please.”

You reached behind yourself to hold him tight by the hip, urging him to stay buried deep in you in lieu of words until his thrusts broke apart into a stutter.

You felt him empty within you as you came down from your own high just in time to see him fall apart clearly in the mirror. His cock felt hot and heavy inside as he pulsed there, groaning roughly into your ear with every aftershock. Just as he was done, before either of you had any opportunity to catch your breath, he pulled out and spun you around to catch your mouth in a kiss that was all tongue and passion, his hands roaming all over your body like he’d never hold you again, cupping your face and ass all at once.

You spent minutes like that until you finally broke apart, resting your forehead against his as you panted, wondering if it was the cocktails or him that had you so dizzy.

—

You were dying of boredom in your cubicle by the time your lunch break hit. You made a circle from the break room back to your desk to grab your lunch from the fridge, and then unpacked it as you scrolled on your phone.

You decided to text your husband. He was off on a mission, so you know he won’t answer anytime soon if at all, but you can’t help it. You miss him terribly.

You: Date night when you get back?

And then a few minutes later:

You: I haven’t worn my black dress in a while.

You eat your sandwich with a grin, pressing your thighs together at the memories. Then, to your surprise, your phone buzzes and comes alight.

Leon: Anything to see you in that.

You: I know what you’d do to see me out of it, too

Leon: Anything.

You: All you have to do is come home safe

Leon: Can’t wait to come back to the most beautiful woman in the world.

“your rent, free. just, uh, let me touch you every once in a while. up to you how often.”

leon calls out gruffly, a hint of nervousness in his rumbly voice.

“i’m not a perv, i promise, it’s only if you’re interested.”

you make a thinking face, weighing your options. leon definitely was a pervert, but that was okay, you could work with that. still, he was sweet, and even though he was kinda rough around the edges, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him a little hot. besides, even though the rent was cheap, it’d be nice to have the few hundred dollars back.

“what the hell, sure”

˚.⋆꒰১ ໒꒱⋆.˚

that’s how it started.

at first, leon really just wanted to play with your tits. he’d spend an hour or so sucking and kneading at your breasts, rubbing his hard on through the old pair of tactical pants he always seemed to wear. his canines clipped your skin every so often, making you jump and leon apologize profusely, promising it won’t happen again. it made you wet, to be honest.

almost every afternoon the two of you had your routine, the older wolf-man fondling and licking your nipples until they were aching, while you scrolled on your phone or watched your favorite tv show. you had a sneaking suspicion that leon came in his pants more often then not during your little sessions.

from there, things quickly escalated, leon asking you nervously if he could jerk off in front of you, turning into leon cumming on your tits and pretty lips. drops of sticky white liquid drip from your chin onto your breasts, and you can’t help taking a little lick of leon’s hot cum.

mmm, it wasn’t bad, in fact, you wanted more. his cum was musky, piney, and slightly sweet. you swipe a finger on the side of your lips and pop it into your mouth, tongue swirling around to taste the wolf hybrid’s arousal. leon’s eyes look like they could pop out of his skull, eye bags prominent as he huffs and puffs, trying to retain his composure.

“here, for the other day.”

the older man remarks gruffly as he tosses an envelope onto the kitchen table, colorful edges of cash poking out the sides. your eyes follow the package, then back up to leon with your eyebrows arched.

“y’know for like groceries and stuff. i don’t know, get your nails done or something.”

leon is clearly out of his element but it was adorable the way he tried to communicate his gratitude for you. getting your nails done would actually be fun. being roommates with leon was really the best.

“thanks, leon, i’ll show you them when i get home.”

you leave the older man with a kiss on the cheek, retiring back to your bedroom. leon remains in the kitchen, cock growing hard at the thought of your pretty manicured hand wrapped around it.

˚.⋆꒰১ ໒꒱⋆.˚

and so here you are, bent over the back of the couch as leon fucks your thighs, his thick cock slipping past your plush fat with a wet plap plap plap. he’d brought some lube from his room, jerking his cock above your clothed pussy until he couldn’t resist rutting into your thighs.

you bite your lip, containing a moan as leon’s rock hard cock presses against your wet cunt, shielded by a thin scrap of fabric that was soaked with lube and your slick. your pussy ached to be filled, imagining how good it would feel if leon was thrusting just a couple of inches higher… you push your ass up to meet his thrusts and from behind you floats a low growl. leon withdraws from your thighs and jerks himself through his climax, spilling hot cum all over your ass and panties.

fuck, you were almost ready to rip your panties off yourself, body practically screaming at leon to fill your needy cunt with his thick wolf cock and breed you. every inch of you ached for it, hole clenching around nothing as leon shakily put his cock back into his pants.

more than anything, you’d been looking into what wolf hybrid cycles and knotting entailed and you knew for certain there was something leon could give you that you wanted more than any amount of cash.

you began to hatch a plan.

it’s a normal saturday night, you’re watching a movie with leon before going out with friends. he’s got his mouth on your left breast, sucking at your nipple tenderly, eyes shut and lost in his appreciation of your body. his cock is out, stroking himself languidly as drops of pre-cum bead out of his angry red tip.

moving him off of you casually, you pull up your shirt and stand up.

“gotta get ready, i’ll be back.”

moving towards the bathroom, you throw your phone on the couch, screen bright with your browser app open. leon lets out a sigh, dick still hard in his hand. his eyes move to your phone, curiosity getting the best of him.

the last tab you have open:

“how to prepare for a wolf’s knot”

it looks like leon had seen a ghost when you come back to the living room. his eyes are wide, cheeks pale, and he looks up at you with the sort of desperation that assures you the first step of your plan worked. you smile down sweetly at your old man.

you know, wolf hybrids really aren’t bad at all.