Out of your realm of reality

Being a secretary at DSO meant making no mistakes. Especially if you’re working for Leon S. Kennedy. He’s known for being strict in his work and overly perfect. When you survive such horrific events, you develop a habit of expecting the best from other people. That was the case with Leon.

You started working there as his secretary. Your job application was done simply. You’re perfect for Leon. Fast, efficient, smart, and most importantly, obedient. He’s kept an eye on you since day one; he’s always kept you close. Maybe too close for a professional workspace.

You really like doing everything he asks you to. Acting like a good girl, doing everything for him, which includes private time. He calls you a ‘slut’ for it. You like being insulted by him. He knows it too. You’re his dear miss secretary.

It was a busy day. That morning, he had asked you to proofread an important document. You handled it right away and delivered the papers to his office on time, leaning forward a little more than necessary as you placed them on his desk. Just enough to draw his eye to your cleavage, like always.

But this time, he barely glanced at you. He was on the phone, his voice clipped and professional. He only gave a dismissive wave of his hand, signaling for you to leave.

You shrugged it off and returned to your desk, absently toying with your nails. All that effort, just for him to brush you aside? Sometimes you hated him for it. Yet somehow, that frustration only made you want him more. You really were losing your mind over this man.

Suddenly, the desk phone rang. Your pulse jumped. Maybe it’s him. You snatched it up. “Yes—”

“My office. Now.” His tone was sharp, leaving no room for questions before he hung up.

Your stomach twisted. Why was he calling you in like that? You hadn’t done anything wrong… right? You never made mistakes. That thought repeated in your head like a mantra as you stood up and quickly smoothed down your skirt.

You knocked on his door, drawing in a steadying breath.

“Come in.”

You stepped inside hesitantly and lowered yourself into the chair in front of his desk. He didn’t look at you at first, his eyes fixed on his monitor. You searched his face for any hint of what this was about, but his expression gave nothing away.

When he finally turned to you, he pointed to the spot beside his chair. “Come closer.”

You obeyed.

He tapped a finger on the document in front of him. A large red circle stood out harshly on the page. “Typo.”

Shit.

It couldn’t be. Not you. “I-I’m so sorry, sir,” you stammered, reaching for the paper. “I’ll fix it right away—”

Before you could retreat, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer with a firm grip.

“You know you’re not allowed to make mistakes here, right?”

You nodded quickly, heart racing. “Yes, sir. I know. I’m so sorry.”

“Kneel down.”

You obeyed instantly, sinking gracefully to your knees between his spread legs. Your heart hammered against your ribs as you looked up at him.

He caught your chin with firm fingers and tilted your face upward. “Eyes on me.”

“I’m so sorry, sir,” you breathed, voice already trembling with need. Your hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it with practiced ease. “Please… let me make it up to you.”

He leaned back in his leather chair, watching you with that intense, unreadable stare. “Then stop apologizing with words,” he said, voice low and rough. “Show me. Use that pretty mouth properly.”

You freed his cock, already hardening under your touch. Wrapping your fingers around the base, you leaned in and dragged your tongue slowly along the underside before swirling it around the swollen head. A quiet groan escaped him, and the sound sent a rush of heat straight between your thighs.

You took him deeper, lips stretching around his girth as you worked him into your mouth. The wet, rhythmic sounds of your sucking filled the silent office. He slid one hand into your hair, not forcing you yet, just holding you possessively.

“Deeper,” he ordered, voice tight. “You know how I like it.”

“Mhm…” You relaxed your throat and sank down until your nose brushed his abdomen, taking every inch. Your eyes watered, but you held him there, humming softly around his length. He let out a low curse, fingers tightening in your hair as he began guiding your movements, slow and controlled at first, then gradually faster.

“Look at me while you choke on it,” he growled.

Your teary gaze lifted to meet his. The raw hunger in his eyes made your core throb. You sucked harder, hollowing your cheeks, your tongue pressing firmly along the underside with every stroke.

“Fuck… that’s my good girl,” he murmured, breath growing ragged. “You’re so much better at sucking cock than proofreading, aren’t you?”

You moaned around him in agreement, the vibration making his hips twitch. He started thrusting shallowly into your mouth, using your throat with that same strict precision he brought to everything else. Tears slipped down your cheeks, but you never broke eye contact, desperate to please him.

His grip became tighter, almost punishing. “Don’t pull away. Swallow every fucking drop like the eager little secretary you are.”

With a deep, guttural groan, he came hard, pulsing against your tongue. You swallowed around him greedily, milking every last drop until he finally relaxed back into the chair, breathing heavy.

You kept him in your mouth a moment longer, gently licking and sucking him clean, savoring the taste of him. When you finally pulled off with a soft, wet pop, a thin string of saliva still connected your swollen lips to the head of his cock.

He didn’t let you pull away immediately. Instead, he slid two fingers into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue as he looked at you with dark satisfaction.

“Open,” he commanded softly. You obeyed, showing him your empty mouth. “Good girl.”

He helped you stand, but before you could straighten your skirt, he pulled you close and slipped a hand between your thighs. His fingers brushed over your soaked panties, rubbing slow circles against your aching clit through the fabric.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he murmured against your ear, voice rough with approval. “Sucking me off gets you this wet? Pathetic…”

A soft whimper escaped you as he pushed your panties aside and sank two fingers deep inside you without warning. He pumped them slowly, curling them just right, while his thumb kept teasing your clit.

“You don’t get to come,” he warned, biting your earlobe. “Not until that document is perfect. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” you gasped, hips rolling against his hand desperately.

He pulled his fingers out abruptly, leaving you empty and throbbing, then brought them to your lips. You sucked them clean without being told, tasting yourself mixed with him.

He straightened your skirt with deceptively gentle hands, then gave your ass a firm, possessive squeeze.

“Fix it. Bring it back before lunch. If there’s even one more mistake…” He leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “I’ll bend you over this desk and fuck you until you can’t walk straight. Now go.”

part two , ─── THE LUCKY ONES : coming soon

part three , ─── TEARS IN THE RAIN coming soon

final part, ─── EPILOGUE.

others , ─── ONE-SHOTS, DRABBLES, ASKS.

in which your father’s best friend is obsessed with kissing your ankles and fucks you in a hotel room.

pinterest board, say you want me too ─── playlist.

to join the taglist, please leave a comment under this post ! <3

​it feels strange to be back here.

you packed a pile of clothes inside your suitcase. plenty for a few days away from the chaotic atmosphere of your city and right back to where it all began: your birth town. the horrid traffic jam and constant noise— you temporarily left all of that behind for the retreat of your parents’ home.

you crammed everything in a small, pearly white suitcase and straight into the trunk of your car it went— a pair of lacquered pink stilettos and the gorgeous satin dress for the main event, your pajamas, gorgeous clothes and some of them skimpy, for the warm weather and a pair of bikinis. at the bottom, there’s something you weren’t so sure about. lingerie.

it’s all because of leon. you didn’t know if he’d show up, but you assumed he would.

pink pieces of lace sewn delicately around the edge of the balconette bra that meet in the middle, in semblance with a bouquet of white roses: pale sweet satin, brand new, laid neatly in an agent provocateur box, arranged together with the matching panties.

you didn’t text him about it. he didn’t tell you either.

he’d end up looking like a huge asshole and his absence would disappoint your father, especially. you knew he’d show, however. he wouldn’t miss this. he’s not the type to. his reliability is his most predictable asset and that’d be simply out of discussion.

you drove for a few hours in your convertible, a vanilla cream 80’s mercedes benz that you feel in love with at seventeen on a family trip to arizona. you begged your parents for it and they had to comply with their only daughter’s wish to drive around the town in a vintage car.

you tap your nails against the nude steering wheel, vintage— butt sunken in the cushy, cream leather seat, eyes behind a pair of large, cat-eye shades— with your phone on speaker and the highway winds blowing through your hair, dancing and tingling across your bare skin.

“hope i won’t have to talk to all your guests, dad,” you whine.

white slingbacks click against the marble floor when your mother waltzes around the kitchen, with every hurried step she takes. your father talks to the catering staff. his newly found best friend is an old, high quality bottle of bourbon he’s taken from his collection, hidden in his personal study.

it’s a big day, everyone’s stressed.

“c’mon, don’t be like that!”

“anyone i might actually know? at least?”

“well- auntie’s gonna be here. your uncle hasn’t seen you in ages. remember john and georgia? oh well, y’know… their son, pete-”

“your dad’s trying to tell you pete’s single, sweetie pie,” your mother interrupts, “georgia told me he’s been looking to settle down! isn’t that great?”

“how’s that great? mom. dad. please, i don’t need you to be my matchmakers.”

you flick the volume button and turn the music up, plastic fantastic lover. this conversation that won’t lead you nowhere makes you scoff. you take a puff of your cigarette and flick the ash in the car tray with the tip of your fake nail.

“give it a try, sweetie. can’t even remember the last time i saw you with a boyfriend. anyone in the city catching your eye?”

your mother’s insistence feels futile for reasons unbeknownst to anyone you’ve ever known.

except for your father’s best friend.

“honey, i gotta go. drive safely, ‘kay?” your dad walks around the kitchen, “leon’s in the hallway. buddy’s in dire need of some bourbon.”

leon kennedy. your palms sweat with the agony of expectation around the steering wheel— the excitement and simultaneous wave of anxiety of seeing him for the first time in a month. your gaze lingers down to your wrist, the gold bracelet screwed around it, along with a few other bangles.

so, he decided to show up. your press your foot down the pedal and you speed up the highway. you’re not sure if the news make you excited or if you’d rather hide inside your bedroom for the unforeseeable future. at least until leon leaves. on the other hand, he owes it to you.

you sit inside the local bar, sandal heels tapping on the metal foot rest of the bar stool, thighs shut together in your flared jeans. you’re nervous.

leon was just passing by, visiting your city, making sure you’re fine and not feeling too lonely.

his right elbow rest on the bar table. his big, softly defined muscles under his black shirt that looks like it’s going to explode from how ripped he is. he keeps the bottle of beer in his hand, fingers gripped around it, and the index plays around the glued-on label.

his hair, dirt blonde and long falls over his face and it shines under the dim lights. his blue eyes look so warm, soft, despite the natural coldness of his irises. he looks tired. he always does.

if being fine, by definition, of course, implies squirting all over his fingers and getting fucked dirty in the passenger seat of his porsche— sure, you’re just fine and dandy— strong hands around your hips, pulling you closer in a sloppy drunk make-out session, sucking on his tongue. a sort of forgive me from his side. (if the twenty grand cartier bracelet wasn’t enough of an apology for his lack of communication.)

fine, by leon’s definition, would imply making sure you get mind blowing orgasms and that your pussy gets completely filled up to the brim— every inch of of your stretchy walls, with all the length of his thick cock, bent over the counter of your kitchen with his hand pressed flat against your naked back.

your pajama shorts pulled down your thighs, leg climbed up the edge of the wooden counter. right next to your wide open window, under the moonlight, moaning so loud that an entire neighborhood could hear you.

by his definition, you should fine. you think.

then, he puts a plain red bag on the bar, “open it.”

“what’s that?”

he doesn’t vocalize an answer, but raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to look inside the mysterious bag. you shove a hand inside and pull out a red box with engraved golden details and open it.

“oh! wow- cartier?”

a love bracelet.

“can’t do jackshit with my money. don’t care that much either. you deserve it.”

nobody knows. how could they ever find out about this?

“keep it. i mean it, doll. you’re too attached to that car of yours, i get it. you don’t need one. can’t do nothing ‘bout that. can’t get you a new one either. tryin’ to be more creative.”

“i really love my car-“

“yeah. i know. it suits you - gonna let me help you with that?”

“so,” you mumble while he fixes the bracelet around your wrist. he pulls out the golden screwdriver to lock it, “i get dso pays their best agent very well.”

the stark contrast between the bracelet and the bar, which sits around the corner, a street away from your apartment. there’s a few people gathered around the pool table and the some other at the tables in groups to share a couple of drinks.

“you could say that— there you go. how’s it feel?”

“wow! i love it. it’s so… gorgeous. hmm, it’s perfect.”

you throw your arms around leon, around the back of his neck; his warmth engulfs you and breath him in. you pull away, arms still around him and you give him the softest peck on the lips. he pulls you in for another embrace, longer than an usual ‘thank you’ hug and you stay like that for around a minute, before leon breaks the hug and sips out of his beer once.

the air feels crisp with an agonizing desire to hold him longer, but there’s something changing, an awkwardness of some sort. it feels like a farewell gift.

“thanks, leon, really. i- i’m speechless. i-i wish you’d visit more often.”

he shouldn’t.

he keeps you at a considerable distance away from him, yet closer than he ever intended. leon finds himself missing you deeply during his many sleepless nights, sat at the edge of a hotel bed with some whiskey on his tongue and a bottle in his hand.

he buys you gifts each time he visits you— that already happens more often than he wanted to. or even when he’s away from you.

“what’s up with you and this bar, huh?”

“it’s two minutes away from my place.” this place has seen you in your worst possible moments.

“i know, doll. you’re all so beautiful and dressed up to meet me at a cheap bar? have a mediocre cocktail? so i can crack two beers?”

“don’t put this on me, leon. you’re the one who shows up unannounced at one in the morning. every. single. time.”

you feel guilty for admitting this. for criticizing leon, right when he showed up with a cartier love bracelet to surprise you.

but it’s true. he’s a reliable man when he doesn’t get lost in the scarred corners of his mind.

or when he leaves some finished bottles of whiskey or vodka on the floors of his monotonous hotel rooms—some nights he ends up drunk, half asleep, and the feeling of self imposed loneliness creeps up by his window or terrace, where nothing else is laid; fake flowers in dusty vases, if lucky or a bottle of beer, a gun and a dirty piece of cloth he used to clean up his weapons.

his missions only leave him charred. dead. the edges of his soul reach a state of borderline, emotional necrosis, grown insensitive to his own suffering.

he cares, deeply, and he regrets, truly so. but he feels numb. those states exist in contradiction.

nightmares possess him and he secludes. leon’s isolation only turns him caustic to himself and cautious, to an extent that, naturally so, makes him unreachable and cold, despite his caring and altruistic character. he’s truly a good man. of you asked him, he’d deny it. he tries to be good, always, but admitting it— he’d never do it.

he can’t keep you this close. he’d scare you away. and leon’s guilt is hungry for what remains of his consciousness, for you’re his best friend’s daughter and he should know better than to show up with expensive gifts. or expect you to soothe him. he doesn’t know where this is supposed to be going.

the bartender picks up the empty bottle of beer. leon nods and he’s offered a third bottle, “somethin’ for the lady too?”

“no, no- thanks.” you answer, “leon, you need to stop- stop drinking.”

he sets the bottle of budweiser back on the counter, “yes, ma’am”

“i- i know we shouldn’t be seen together. i do. m-my family.. this place sucks. but i don’t know, leon… what’s this? what are we, the bracelet? the shoes? the clothes? it feels like you’re always feelin’ sorry for some weird reason.”

“let me take you on a date.”

he shouldn’t.

“should i expect another 10 grand bracelet?”

“someone’s a spoiled little girl.”

you’re so spoiled and it’s completely his fault. your wardrobe warns to explode from the amount of pretty clothes, bags and shoes he gifted you. you keep everything stuffed in there. get this. get that. in the very beginning, he used to totally suck at this. but with time, he was eager to accustom to your tastes and get you gorgeous pieces of clothing.

he even left you a credit card to use, like some sort of allowance to cover all your monthly expenses and make yourself pretty gifts— so you’d quit the shitty job that you were complaining about and focus on finding your true passion.

you moved away to escape from the influence of your parents and you ran exactly into the arms of the person who is the best friend of your father. but he’s not a snitch. he proved himself many times.

“that’s not exactly my fault.”

he smiles.

“you drank. don’t go- stay with me tonight? it’s friday. we can… watch a movie on my couch.”

“you mean fuck on your couch? ain’t you subtle, sweetheart. i’d rather have you on the counter. or that pink bed of yours.”

“please don’t leave before i wake up.”

“sure, i’ll stay. i’ll even read you a bedtime story- make us some breakfast. pancakes? ain’t you obsessed with them?”

“i do want those pancakes. but… i want you more, leon.”

“i can book us a table for tomorrow, then. deal?”

leon kept his word and he stayed. you woke up to the smell of pancakes. he made you breakfast and you watched him cook, arms wrapped around his torso, pressing your lips against his back.

but something felt strange. like everything was about to come to the inevitable end and this was leon’s apology.

that was a month ago. ever since that night, leon stopped showing up. he came up with excuses and he stopped texting. although, he didn’t take your card away and your expenses were taken care of.

“my- i almost forgot! i got you a pretty dress, sweetie,” your mom’s voice buzzes enthusiastically through the speakers, “you’re gonna love it! i left it in your bedroom. i was looking through your old clothes, georgia is organizing a charity event with some of the other wives. mind donating some?”

“sure, mom. tell mrs.kane she can demolish my old wardrobe for what i care.”

the celebration of your parents’ marriage brought with it enough ex-coworkers, friends and roughly half of the town’s population.

i already have a dress. you want to tell her, but after all, it’s her big day.

they invited plenty of guests to fill up the great room, the enormous backyard with trellis that overviews your mother’s splendid white garden and victorian gazebo— her flowers kept as well as always: pink, white blooming roses and peonies, magnolias and gardenias. her most precious achievement.

a few lilies she takes pride in, and you’d always run around the gazebo, trailing your fingers through the few vines of ivy she’d keep neatly around the white columns.

she’d put a hand on your small shoulder; rub her palm against your sweaty temples, manicured nails painted always in a tone of burgundy at the local salon. her soft eyes would stare down still at the pages of her book, “careful, cupcake. you’re gonna trip and fall.”

the rich sweetness of the flowers used to fill up your bedroom in small bouquets on your window-still often, throughout your entire childhood, redolent in their smell.

she’s always been overly preoccupied with these aspects of life. with beauty and stability. with your father gone for months at times, working for the government, always abroad. she’d bury herself in housework or spend her time in the garden with you– keeping the house alive.

your home remains unchanged— at its core, it’s a golden box of memories, your innocence untouched. a reverie, mostly sweet, but so repetitive and mundane it turned you bitter.

summer evenings have grown warmer. today feels completely different from the rest. you feel different. like you completely outgrew your own roots and what only remained is the countless of memories stuck inside the walls of this gigantic house.

the air smells of flowers and nostalgia and you inhale it with your eyes closed; then the sizzling noise of your now retired father’s grill— he can’t miss the chance of a barbecue, not even when your mother hired a catering firm to handle the big event.

a few toddlers and children run around the backyard, people chat and laugh, reminiscing about their youth, of what’s been long gone. the few waiters stand around or walk around with plates of entrees and glasses of champagne.

the sun sets the more time you spend zoning out.

you rest your feet in the morning cut grass, stilettos in your hand, and the summer breeze washes over your body, through the flimsy ruffles of your pink dress. you look concerningly similar to the housewives your mother spends time with and it makes you wonder if she’s trying to lure you back into this town; marrying peter kane too. you’d hate that.

leon is here too.

he’s been staring at you for hours, right through the buzzing crowd of people standing and chatting, as if it’s only the two of you and the outside world doesn’t exist.

he laid eyes on you from the very moment you set foot right through the front yard next to your mother, his glass fresh with ice cubes and your dad’s bourbon.

“jeez, leon. ain’t you gonna retire soon? get married? have a kid? can’t lie- it’s hard to picture you like that. but it’s worth it, don’t you think?”

“maybe. i wouldn’t know. you seem happy.”

he was talking to your now retired father about middle aged men boring nonsense. the house roof needs to be fixed. your mother wants a new car. leon sucks on his teeth, not fully present, thoughtful— a part of him regrets his life decisions.

“still waiting for the day i’ll see you at the altar, buddy. i ain’t losin’ my hope.” your father smiles, hand on leon’s shoulder.

you wonder if you’ll be present at the wedding too. as a guest. you’re not the type to settle down and not the type you’d usually settle down with. especially not as a man that’s nearing fifty years of life. unless you’re living in some major state of psychosis and have various delusions.

you too, perhaps, present some form of delusion. despite the many times you claimed settling down isn’t for you, maybe, for leon you’d accept the destiny of a happily married woman. with him, you’d feel safe, accepted. adored.

you’re a wild flower that simply cannot be enclosed inside a garden like your mother’s.

you’re not your mother who spends her days drinking mimosas with the local committee of housewives and baking three hundred cookies for the school fair.

leon’s handsome in the way he rests his body weight so naturally on the balustrade, elbows on the white wood. he looks slightly laid back, but always alert, on the verge of reaction, with a holster tightened around his leg still. not even on his best friend’s marriage anniversary he cannot give up on that gun.

he’s never too elegant, but always so sexy, better looking than any man you’ve ever seen, for what it’s worth– his eyes, so blue and his dirt blonde hair arranged for the big event. his grey stubble peaks out short. he hasn’t shaved in about a week. it makes him look his age, forty nine. and his wrinkles, the crow’s feet radiate right in the corners of his blue eyes.

you’d think his age should make him less attractive, that with time, beauty fades and there’s nothing left of it. but he looks utterly beautiful.

he thinks of himself as an old man already, but truthfully, his effortless way of being makes him more attractive than any guy you’ve met. his calmness makes you seek him out and grow obsessed with the layer hiding underneath. his pain.

his presence soothes in ways nobody has ever done it before. you seek his warmth in your worst days, tucked in under your blanket, pretending he's with you, sleeping on the empty side of your bed.

you call him and he picks up, even when it’s best to keep his distance away from you, instead of creating a habit out of your insomniac late nights calls. that pretty much sums leon kennedy up. he’s a reliable man. he feels responsible, despite putting himself in a situation that could cost his life.

of course, he’d take the blame if anyone was to find out about this. and of course, this ultimately makes him feel like masochist.

when you started seeing each other, he’d leave while you were asleep. even after fucking you senseless, he'd rather leave you alone and not invade your space— he wouldn’t even fall asleep your bed. not crossing the line. what line, you wonder, for he consciously visits his best friend’s daughter for the sole purpose of fucking.

you wonder, also: could there be other woman in his life? it makes you ask yourself if you’re some stupid silly girl, part of a list of countless women. he doesn’t look like the type, but appearances can sometimes be deceiving.

he’d wait for you to doze off in his big arms, face down his shirtless chest and he’d sneak off. he’d let you play with his soft hair before and he’d rub your back till your eyes felt too heavy to stay opened, right in the warmth of his hug.

he’d make you breakfast too and leave it on the kitchen table, next to a small note, “EAT ME! :)”

leon wears a white button-up stays tucked in neatly inside his dark blue suit pants— the sleeves carelessly pulled up to his elbows. he left the jacket in the kitchen, uncomfortable from wearing it for a few hours. now, he’s zoning out, very pensive.

“i’m happy, leon. fulfilled. i did it all for my family. look at this house? wife’s happy too- oh! you remember her, right? i told ya she moved away. look how she’s changed.”

they both come down the stairs and your eyes meet so suddenly. it feels like an eternity since you’ve last seen each other, a month precisely.

this month, though, you spent all of it dreaming about leon with your hands inside your panties and fingers pressed down your swollen clit and a dildo stuffed inside your needy, slick cunt. it feels pathetic to admit that you shoved it down your throat, pretending it’s leon’s cock. you moaned his name too many times, your lips glossy with drool, face buried in your pillows.

leon takes a sip our of his glass.

“haven’t seen you in a while. look at you," he greets you, "your dad told me you moved away. how’s the city?”

he says, as if he hasn’t made a habit of visiting you.

“haven’t seen you in a bit, leon. you’re so much older than i remember. a little bit more… wrinkled-” you tease him and his brows furrow, “the city’s great. the traffic kills me.”

“it happens when you get old like me, y’know. can’t run away from aging.”

“how old were you again? fifty nine?”

“forty… nine.”

“christ! don’t mind it leon, please. is the city so boring that you gotta pick on your old man’s buddy? why don’t you go talk to pete?”

“who’s pete?” you ask, acting dumb.

“cupcake, what’s up with you? y’know pete. he’s john and georgia’s only son... our neighbors? they live down the street?” you look at him, with the same faux confusion and he explains, “he’s single! go talk to him.”

great.

“i’m joking, dad! relax. why would i? isn’t he the one looking to marry? shouldn’t he pursue me?”

a brief pause settles between the three of you. a smirk forms in the corner of leon’s mouth.

“what do you think, mr. kennedy? should i go talk to him? that’s kinda lame, if you ask me,” you scoff, “men these days.”

that’s my girl.

“well-“

“jeez, no. where’s your mother?” your dad looks suddenly agitated.

“i can’t do this. leon, buddy, please don’t answer that. you should talk 'bout this with your mother!"

your father leaves in a hurry, looking around backyard to bring your mother to you. leon stays and he crosses his veiny arms around his chest and it only makes him look bigger. sexier.

“pete? should i be jealous?” leon asks.

“maybe.”

“do you even know what he looks like?”

“as a matter of fact i do. i blew him twice right before leaving for college. so, fuck you.”

“don’t tell me he went down on you too.”

“oh my god-“ you shush him, “are you jealous, leon?”

“i've no reason to be jealous, sweet girl. if i were him, i’d never leave you alone.”

“you’re being a hypocrite right now. we're not talking about this here!”

“who do you take me as? i know it’s risky. i’m just bein’… curious.”

“i gotta go, leon. i don’t wanna talk about this here. it was good… seeing you.”

so, you didn’t pawn the bracelet he gave you, leon notices when you turn around angry and frustrated, fists clenched and nails digging into your palm and it hurts. you could almost bleed.

he thought you’d do it to get revenge on him for disappearing. leon doesn’t fully believe his own thoughts, you wouldn’t to that. you value even the smallest gifts you receive.

you hold a glass of white wine close to your chest and with the your other hand, you subtly tug down the ends of your pink halter dress— which, despite being perfectly adequate for the anniversary of your parents’ marriage, it feel shorter the more leon’s eyes undress your body naked.

he’s not that subtle about it. at least to you. he looks away every now and then— a hand is the pocket of his trousers and a polite smile on his lips. he zones out while three city council members enthusiastically gather around to share some ideas with him, for some reason he can’t seem to fully grasp.

his presence alone makes you freeze after what happened between you earlier.

alcohol flows rapidly through leon’s bloodstream and there’s so much restrained hunger in the way he looks at you. you could melt alone from that and your legs feel weaker and weaker.

the many voices dissipate and time slows down. you can hear your own heartbeat, thudding hard and fast inside your chest. the local governor exchanges words with a neighbor on your left and on the right, two old highschool friends babble nostalgic nonsense, which they try to include you in. old memories. something about your gym classes.

you keep a bright smile plastered all over your face. laugh comes out fake, too high pitched, but they wouldn’t recognize your lack of interest or that you fake it, because, last time you talked them was at the local store two years ago.

your conversation lasted around five minutes and the awkwardness of it made you realize how alienated you've become from this town and its community.

you don't have any friends left. you pushed them all away when you left for college three years ago.

except for aileen kane, pete’s younger sister– the twenty year old girl, who doesn't seem to be here for a very obvious reason– she feels the same alienation, but much differently.

she came out as a lesbian right before you left the town and it a caused a gigantic scandal within the community.

everybody knows everybody here. people talk. they gossip and hate. they also love, but they love their sense of belonging to their happy and safe community. loneliness isn’t healthy for the soul.

they love their own idea of normality just as much. unfortunately for her, aileen is still stuck in this town of religious upper middle class and rich people.

you mother was happy to invite her, as the kanes, especially georgia, hold a special place inside her heart. herself too, seems to be obsessed with belonging somewhere and it looks like she’s already found her place in the local group of rich housewives who thrive on mimosas. it feels utterly robotic and mundane.

people come to you every now and then. after all, you’re the daughter of the happily married couple who invited nearly a hundred people over. it was all your mother’s idea. oh, how you’ve grown! is all that you can hear every five minutes.

your feet hurt from wearing the stilettos and the dress feels uncomfortably tight on your body, around your boobs and hips, where leon’s eyes keep roaming insatiably. you’d take it off for him in a millisecond.

you bring the glass of wine close to your lips and you take a huge sip, drowning your throat in the slight sweetness and numbing taste of alcohol. it feels nauseating, because you’re still somewhere between sobriety and complete drunkenness.

another sip follows, and the stem of the glass rests between your fingers, wine almost finished. you could sneak another couple, instead of looking like an alcoholic in front of the entire town and embarrassing your parents.

leon isn’t a big scary monster, but the opposite, despite his muscular build and job or reputation as a one of government’s best agents. he can be soft and calm. but he’s hard to read at times, especially when he becomes aloof and his sarcasm turns bitter.

you’ve done this entirely sober before.

he’s cooed the sweetest words right in your ear back in your city. he showed up with a bouquet of pink roses in his hand and gifts. so many gifts.

fuck me, you take it so well.

leon has the habit of calling you sweet girl. undoubtedly, every single time, you feel like melting under the caution of his guilty touch.

you’re convinced everybody found out. every single person in and outside this gigantic house is aware that you’ve been fucking leon scott kennedy, your father’s best friend.

this is all staged and by the end of the night, your dirty little secret will be revealed and cameramen will come through the back and front doors— your parents will look at you and feel sorry for you and your mother, with pitiful tears in her eyes will wrap her arms around you, thinking you’re some sort of victim.

wouldn’t it be better if you moved back here? and poof, just like that, she’d lure you back into this shit hole of a pretentious town. she’d make you marry peter kane. you can see yourself having your very own garden— deadly nightshades and black dahlias.

and leon— oh, leon. you’d hate if anything happened to him, just as much as you hate being away from him.

leon raises and eyebrow even from the other side of the great room, you can still recognize that look. he looks at you as if he wants you to stop, which,once again, is a bit hypocritical of him, given his history with alcohol and habitual drinking issues.

you chug the rest of the wine so inelegantly. you defy him. he rolls his eyes.

nobody knows.

nobody knows.

you repeat it in your head like a mantra.

nobody knows. except for you and leon.

it’s your dirty little secret.

and the secrecy of your relationship (or whatever this could be) makes you feel so dirty. like a slut. but it makes you feel special too. the burning sensation aches up to your tummy and your needy cunt feels wet just from staring into leon’s eyes. it reminds you of the many night you spent together with him on top of you, kissing your ankles sweetly, balls deep inside you.

you can’t do this anymore. you’ve spent the entire afternoon and evening trying to avoid your own feelings.

the constant tension between you and the look in his eyes leave you confused. you haven’t seen him in a month and that’s a long time. you don’t see any other men. you can’t. you’d feel guilty. he doesn’t deserve that.

you shove your hand inside your small clutch bag, searching for your phone. you quickly find his contact saved under noel. how silly. you empty your glass down your throat; adrenaline and alcohol pump through your body and your fingers get all shaky against the screen when you text him.

YOU: meet me upstairs? please?

YOU: second floor, take right, down the hallway. i’ll be waiting for you!!

YOU: name’s on the door btw.

leon’s phone vibrates in the pocket of his pants, preoccupied by the same discussion with the two council members, “mr. kennedy. you’ve seen the whole world. illuminate us. how can we make this town better?”

“i- well, i’m not really sure. it’s not exactly my field of expertise-“

his phone vibrates again and this time, leon pulls it out the pocket of his pants, “excuse me. might be somethin’ important.

YOU: pls come !!!

YOU: preferably on my face (;

YOU: i miss ur cock ):

his blue eyes widen and when he scans for where he last saw you, right in the opposite corner of the room, but you’re already gone.

you made your way to the second floor, up the white stairs, sliding through all the guests and making yourself invisiblez

“i have to go. please excuse me.”

you lay on your back on the patchwork cover of your bed and your eyes scan the insides of your old bedroom. it all looks the same. it seems that your mother took care of it. she kept everything in place and clean. there’s fresh peonies by the tall windows with white frames, hiding behind the drawn, mauve pink curtains.

right through the space between them permeates the light and down on the window seat, where an old pink blanket stays perfectly folded. the faded voices of the guests fill up the dead silence. you sight in relief the moment you take off your stilettos and throw them on the worn carpet.

leon.

leon.

leon.

he looked so sexy in his white shirt. each time the muscles of his big forearms flexed and veins pulsed with his rough, long fingers, you’d feel a lump in your throat and your breath would slow down.

you’d wrap your tongue around his long fingers— just the way you always do. big eyes and pretty lashes overdone with black mascara that stare right into his, as you let him fuck your throat. he’d have a bulging hard boner under his pants and you’d undo his zipper and suck on his thick cock till he’d cum white and sticky all over your pretty face.

what a pity he seems to have been losing interest in you.

or could it be that he feels too guilty for fucking his best friend’s daughter?

that sounds more like leon. he has this habit of feeling so terrible and guilty.

you pull up your dress and the brand new satin lingerie you’ve been keeping in your suitcase wraps around you perfectly. you keep your legs spread and you slip your manicured fingers down your clit, pressing the tips down to tease yourself.

the door creaks open a big figure casts a shadow all over your body. you know it’s leon. nobody else you know walks this way. so heavy, cautious steps against the wooden floor. the way you know him, he might’ve eavesdropped before even touching the silver door knob, so you let a little moan slip through your lips, just for his perverted mind.

“oh! you came. finally.”

leon shuts the door behind him and he wastes no time, closing the distance between you. he leans down on the bed and the weight makes the frame creak. he traps you under him and your bodies are almost glued to each other. his knee is locked between your thighs to keep them spread out, apart from each other and if almost touches your clothed heat. and so you move until you can rub against it.

leon caresses your burning cheek and so much heat radiates from him. he looks like he’s starving.

“someone could’ve open the door and see you, sweet girl.” he scolds you.

“but they didn’t, right? did i make you jealous, leon?” you pull him in a kiss and he leans into you. he puts almost his entire body weight on you, but he’s still gentle, despite the animalistic way his lips devour yours. you both taste the alcohol on each other.

you feel intoxicated by his presence and your body is on fire from all the wine you chugged earlier.

“huh?” he pulls away from your kiss.

“pete?”

“pete? as in peter kane? peter kane the son of the kanes who live just down the street?” you roll your eyes, “no. fuck if i care ‘bout that guy or what happened between you two.”

“they’re kinda making me marry him. soon i’ll be off the market, who knows? maybe you’re speaking to future mrs. kane.” you tease him, seeking a reaction. a confirmation that he cares about you.

both of you know that’s never going to happen.

not in a million years.

“yeah? and here i was thinkin’ you’d sneak out and run away in that car of yours. pretend it never happened.”

“would you rescue me like a knight in shining armor?” you rest fingers around the back of his neck and you pull him closer for another kiss, sucking on his tongue “i missed you, leon— mmm, hold on. let me… lock the door.”

leon moves to the side and you move right past him, tip toeing to the door for some reason, in complete silence. you make sure it’s closed and turn the key inside to double lock it and the silver door knob a few times. perfect.

you turn around and leon stands right behind you. he undid two three buttons of his shirt and you can see his strong chest under.

he presses you against the door, muscular, rough arms forming a cage around you and he continues to assure you:

“don’t be silly, sweetheart,” he gives you a gentle peck on the lips, “they’d never force you to marry him. your dad thinks you’re lonely. all by yourself in that city. they’re worried.”

“oh, poor, lonely me! but- would you rescue me, though? hmm? hypothetically speaking?”

he smiles, “probably, yeah. as long as you’re happy.”

fuck him. leon can’t believe he said that; he’s completely swooned by a girl half his age. the person who was supposedly off-limits. he truly is the embodiment of masochism.

he feels pulled in magnetically. there’s times when he gives in and he resists you. and times like these, where all he dreams about is burying his mouth down your wet pussy and drown himself inside your sweetness fully, like some crazed addict. addictions can’t be good.

it’s concerning how much leon cares about your happiness. about your well-being. he’s always so self sacrificial about everything. fuck his endless generosity.

“i’d be much, muuch happier if you’d stop resisting me.”

you pull up the ruffles of your housewife looking dress and sink your teeth down your soft lower lip, and you beg, “fuck me, please.”

“are you sure ‘bout this, sweet girl?”

“i’ve never been more sure about anything in my whole life— ahh, leon!” his lips move down your neck, right where your skin feels the most sensitive. his tongue climbs up your jaw and he sinks his teeth softly against your bare skin. it makes you squirm and dig your nails into the wooden door.

“your dad’s gonna fuckin’ kill me, angel. he’ll blow my head off with that goddamn huntin’ rifle i gave him once.”

you pull him in for another kiss— messy and lonely. it’s so disgustingly sloppy. you don’t want to impress him or be the best, you can’t even think about that. all you want is to devour him. you press your body against his, boobs pressed against his chest and arms thrown around his neck. your hands wander around his blushing face, and you mess his blonde, greying hair up.

“don’t care if he’s gonna kill me?” he breaks the kiss, concerned, joking.

“mmm- leon… shh!” you press your index finger against his lips, “he won’t kill you. because- ah!” he finds a way to slip a hand under your skirt. he slides two fingers against your clothed clit, feeling the slickness. you’re dripping wet and he’s barely even kissed you.

“he won’t find out! please— i need you s’much! i can’t stop thinking about you. where have you been?”

you keep your fingers tangled in his hair and your right leg rests on his thighs, sturdy hand keeping if in place.

“forgive me, princess. been busy as hell.”

“busy enough to keep me waiting for so long?”

another kiss.

“can’t live without me for more than a couple of weeks? that right?”

“can you?”

“i missed you a lot.”

he pauses briefly.

“keep sending me those pretty pics while i’m gone. makes me miss you even more.”

he’s jerked off to them multiple times. dirty old man leon kennedy— he drives around the country and he finds himself pulling his porsche to the side, in the middle of nowhere, to fist the length cock and jerk off to your photos. he daydreams, thinking it's you taking all of his girth down you pretty little throat. you’ve altered something inside his brain to the point he's turned into a true pervert.

your dirty nudes reflect in the blues of his eyes while he keeps his phone in his hand— hard, pinchable nipples and the softest boobs, covered in bubbly foam and droplets of hot water from the shower.

he’s such a dirty pervert.

only for you.

“what do you like the most about them, leon?”

“your smile.”

“really?”

“yeah. you don’t do it often. i like seein’ you happy.”

he loves to know you're well too. you send him photos of yourself throughout the day and the gentlest smile forms on his handsome face. you made a habit out of sending him selfies— doing your makeup, walking down the street with an ice cream in your hand and five shopping bags hanging on your arm.

your safety and the fact that you're living such a sweet life makes him relax. he wishes you'd have more friends. he’s aware that despite making so many acquaintances in your new city, nothing feels real. the dinners feel boring. coffee dates are bland. it's all a pure facade.

leon catches your face and he squishes your mouth until your pout and his thumb presses down your wet lower lip.

“been missin’ those pretty lips too.”

“i-i’m so wet right now.”

he kisses you again and this time, he sucks lazily on your tongue. you moan softly against his mouth when he bites your lip too. you feel his grey stubble stinging your skin, but it's so erotic, you have to abstain from moaning louder. imagine if anyone in this would hear you. his fingers wander up your waist and up to your breasts.

“take it off, sweet girl.”

you listen. he unzips the back of the dress for you and you take it off, throwing it on the carpet.

his big hand wanders and brushes hungrily up your inner thigh. it makes your skin tingle with so much illicit pleasure. how much you’ve missed feeling like this.

you feel high with him.

he takes the lace of your panties between his fingers for a few seconds— then, while his mouth is busy kissing you, he pulls them down your legs and they hang around your ankles.

“is that right? let’s see what’s goin’ on down here, sweet girl.”

you bite down on your lower lip. your cheeks are hot from the alcohol flowing freely through your bloodstream and the room has almost turned into a sauna. you keep your hands around his shoulders while leon finds your boobs, covered by the gorgeous satin bra, and he pulls one out to suck on your sweet nipple. he grunts and he takes the other one between his teeth, tenderly, not to hurt you— just because he has an urge, an impulse to devour you whole. he wants you so much.

“you prepared too, huh? you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous in this.”

he gets down on his knee and he adjusts the sleeves of his shirt. his eyes never leave yours. he slides his fingers up and down your folds to feel the wetness oozing out of your slick, warm entrance.

“been waiting all wet for me this whole evening? took your damn time, i see.”

“y-you can’t blame me. it wasn’t easy. thought you’d never come.”

he can tell from the way you act that you're nervous and tipsy.

“stop shavin’ so much. leave a heart for me down there like you used to." he jokes, “it was cute. don’t sha- shh!”

footsteps make the wooden floor creak and the knock on your door vibrates down your spine.

“everything ‘kay, sweetie? you in there? heard your door closin’ from down the hallway.”

sloppy job.

georgia kane herself. naturally a brunette, her grey roots stick out of her head and a similarly toned, simple dress adorns her short body. she’s standing on the other side of the locked bedroom door, knuckle still pressed against the polished wood.

“ah! mrs. kane? no- no, i’m fine! just- i’m overwhelmed that’s all- just… so many people.”

“have you seen your dad? your mom can’t find him anywhere and she begged me to go searching.”

“d-dad? last time i saw him he was talking to mr. johnson. y’know, something about holding their liquor. maybe they’re in his office?”

you cover your mouth instinctively when you feel that you’re about to gasp— you roll your eyes in pleasure when leon pushes a finger inside your pussy, just slightly, allowinf your entrance to stretch.

“he said he was looking for leon. and now? poof. gone.”

fuck.

“handsome guy, leon, by the way. haven’t seen him in a hot minute. him and your daddy used to be together all the time. now he’s always gone. hmm…” she thinks, “don’t tell johnny i said that!”

if only mrs.kane knew that leon kennedy was stuffing his face between your thighs right now.

“c’mon, darlin’, be honest. he’s handsome, isn’t he? must be something wrong with him the way i’ve never seen him with a woman. ya think he’s single?”

“i- i guess? i-i never thought about him t-that way” you stutter.

“and i believe you! if you see dad, tell your momma, m’kay? and if you see leon, you better tell me, hah. don’t tell johnny!” she laughs.

“by the way, sweetie, pete’s been wantin’ to settle down for a while. mind if i set you two up on a cute little date? one of the wives opened a fancy place down on aster street.”

“i-i- i’ll think about it. thanks for the offer, mrs. kane.”

“get down there when you feel like it, m’kay? i brought some homemade cake. keeping it for the after party.” her laugh fades away down the hallway when she leaves.

“you think there’s somethin’ wrong with me, huh?” leon whispers.

“everything’s so wrong with you! are you seeing other women?” you look upset when you say it and leon hates himself for making you think that.

it’s true; you’re not dating. but he spends a fortune on you, despite his tendency to seclude when he feels like shit, you’re the only woman he could think ever think of. every night and day you possess his mind and soul.

“hmm, no. i'm too busy with this pussy to see other women, to be honest. you’re spendin’ all my money too.”

a stupid smile stays plastered all over your face.

“relax, sweet girl. let me take care of you.”

he grips down your thigh again and he rests your leg on his sturdy shoulder, spreading you just enough to have a full view of your pretty pussy. his eyes glow like a predator’s that has finally found his delicious prey and he licks his lip.

“fuck me, you really are so sweet. i missed your jealous pussy.” he sinks his face fully down your wetness, drowning himself into you, just like he wanted to. a gasp escapes shyly past your lips and you cover your mouth again, holding in your slutty moans.

his cock bulges hard and big under his pants. it twitches and his veins pulse just from eating your pussy out.

his tongue moves naturally, up and down your folds and he stuffs it inside your needy pussy— this is for himself. he’s missed your taste like the addicted man you’ve made out of him.

“are you seeing other women?’” he imitates your voice.

he drags his tongue up, spoiling your puffy clit with slutry, slow circles and meticulous licks. he’s got you figured from inside out— a lot of attention to your little clit to make you roll your eyes and sink you nails in his skin or grab onto his blonde hair. he couldn’t care less if leave him bloody or with a few scratch marks.

“l-leon! i’m being serious!” you moan.

then, a finger stuffed inside your strechy walls, coated in your honey juices (that he’ll immediately lick off). he moves in gently, knuckle deep, pressing the tip of his finger on your sweet spot, while his tongue spoils your clit rotten.

you love it when he buries a second finger, so deep and rough, faster.

“i know, sweet girl. feels good?” he stares right into your hazy eyes and back to your cunt and at his own fingers stuffed deeper around your g spot.

and the third one makes you crave his cock, from the way he finger fucks you so hard that you’re not longer fully present. you’re high. you reached a feeling of elation that’s impossible to describe— your mouth wide open, drool slick on your lips, moaning yes. yes. yes. with your eyes rolling. you’re so close.

he fucks you harder, ramming his fingers inside your gummy walls, right while his lips suck on your clit and tongue draws lazy and very drunk circles to make you orgasm. he fucks you even rougher, faster this time, stimulating your spot and stretching you out. you feel so good with him inside you. you ride his face messily, sliding your cunt up and down his face to make yourself come.

you wanna feel like this forever.

you finally orgasm and you knees almost fail you, but leon is right there to hold you. you coat his fingers in squirt and honeyed liquid, and it splashes all over his face. he’s smiling like an idiot and he licks it all.

“i don’t need anyone else. i-i think i might be in love with you.”

he must be insanely drunk.

you can’t answer that. you’re too breathless. you feel dizzy.

he kisses your knees and you’ve never seen his eyes shine so anxiously and vulnerably. you’ve never seen a man— a man twice your age, confess that he might actually be in love with you.

another kiss on your knee, “i’m fucked, right?”

he is drunk.

“mmm. i’m so fucked. this past month- i wanted to come see you. be with you. got shitfaced one night. all i could see was your pretty face.”

he sucks in your inner thighs, taking your soft skin between his lips and the tip of his tongue savors on the juices leaking down your thighs, “you waitin’ for me late at night. i hate makin’ you wait. it makes you all sad. you think i won’t show up for some reason.”

he leave kisses on your inner thighs and he rests his chin on your leg momentarily.

“but i can’t do this to you, sweet girl,” leon sighs, as if he feels defeated, “i’d be a monster. can’t let you go through this.”

the room still smells of flowers and the light shines through the curtains. the sky turned pink and orange and the clouds set over the purple shades.

“i know you won’t marry pete. it’s ain’t like you. you’re not the small town type. you… you won’t settle down.”

it feels like he’s waiting for a confirmation and trying to convince himself that i won’t happen.

“what if i am the small town type?”

“i know what you want me to say. no.”

“but you said you’d do it as long as i’m happy!”

“rescue you? settling down in a town with an old man- apologies- an alcoholic who does the government’s dirty work? sounds more like some evil scheme than a rescue mission.”

“we can make it work! leon, i- i’m in love with you too!”

“stop.” he seems to grow angrier. not with you, but with himself.

“you’re young. you don’t wanna settle down. you have so much ahead of you. you think you want this but- but you like the attention and the gifts i give you. you ain’t in love with me.”

“don’t you wanna see me every time you come home? i’d make a good housewife. not perfect, but i’d try for you. and i’d wait for you. days. weeks. months. i’d wait— and i’d wait and wait again… for you.”

he does.

but you don’t.

“you’d hate that, my sweet doll. you’re not seein’ this through. you moved away for a reason,” he pauses, still down on his knees, “you’d feel like a princess trapped in a tower and i’d be the bastard dragon. i’m not your knight in shining armor.”

“why do you hate yourself so much, leon?”

no answer. you get on your knees and they brush against the beige carpet. you cup his burning cheek gently and he kisses your wrist, right where the love bracelet is.

“i’ll hurt you.”

he would, inevitably. he’s already done it and mostly likely, it’ll happen over and over again until you’ll come to your senses and realize you have no future together.

“i don’t wanna trap you.”

“i’m a big girl. we all hurt each other without meaning to. i- i can handle it.”

we’re all meant to exist with flaw programmed within us.

“yeah? can you? ‘been gone for a month and you’re all sad and whiny. tryin’ to make me jealous, ‘future mrs. kane.’ my ass.”

“trap me. take me. i’ll get over it. let’s get a big house together!” you sink on your knees, “ i’ll be good for you. be selfish for once, leon. if you want me- take me. just do it.”

he’s already being selfish by putting you through this whole ordeal, not stopping this earlier— he can’t deal with that.

“you’ll get bored in a few months.”

“you don’t know me, leon! i want this! with you.”

“fuck, sweetheart, stop lyin’. i know you. for you- i could change. but… but i don’t know how long that’d take. can’t afford to have you waitin’ for me to be a better man.”

it’s easy to figure out a person who ran away from her town. you don’t want to end up like your mother or the other housewives in this town. and with him, you would. there’s two options. you’d either settle down and wait for him to return from his missions— if he returns.

or you’d be on the run for the rest of you life, with a husband who deals with bioterrorism for a living.

and realistically, your dad would shoot leon off the face of the earth if he was ever to find out he even dared to touch you.

“i don’t want you to change!” you put your palms around his face, “i wanna see you happy too, y’know?”

you want to fix him. deep down, you think he’d put away the bottle of whiskey for you.

you want him to fix you— what if he’s been the only cure to your madness until now? what if, deep down, your destiny was to follow into your mother’s footsteps.

you sound insane.

leon wakes up and his strong arms wrap around your waist to pick you up off the floor. he carries you to the bed and with one hand, he moves the patchwork cover aside to tuck you in. he looks around and he grabs an old t-shirt from your suitcase. you lift your arms up instinctively and he dresses you up like you’re a helpless little girl.

he sits on one knee on the floor, right next to you.

“it was never gonna happen. this. us… the bracelet i gave you that night was my parting gift. or so i was hopin’. i wanted to you to figure out that… i’m in love with you.”

he kisses your hand, breathing your sweet perfume one more time, “but even if i’m so in love with you, i can’t put you through this. i’m sorry, sweet girl.”

“do i have no saying in this? i-i don’t want this to end.” you feel a tear pricking down the corner of your eye, “at least— at least come see me?”

“we’ll see each other again if we happen to visit this place at the same time.”

you’re sobbing now. you cry and the tears sting and make your vision blurry. mascara drips down your flushed cheeks and you smudge it even more when you try to wipe your tears with the back of your hand.

“please, be a good girl and go take a long bath. eat somethin’ for me?” he wipes your tears too and you hold onto his wrist, kissing it a few times. it’s so warm and real. it could’ve stayed with you forever. his warmth and manly perfume.

“i-i… i will, yeah.”

“i’d kill myself for hurtin’ you before your dad gets to that rifle. now, if you’ll excuse me. i gotta find your dad. he was lookin’ for me.”

“are you gonna drink again?”

no answer.

“i hate you! why did you come here? oh- let me guess… you’re drunk, right? is that your excuse? that you’re drunk, again? fuck you. leave me alone! leave- just leave, leon. i don’t wanna see you.”

“you’d hate me more if i’d keep feeding into your little fantasy.”

and so, he abandons you and the night settles down inside your childhood bedroom. you don’t bother turning on the bedside lamp— you sit in the dark, not truly capable of processing your emotions. it feels like you’ve been doing this for hours, but it’s been barely half an hour.

you stare at the bracelet one more and the tears keep rolling down your face.

a parting gift. a love bracelet.

because leon kennedy is madly in love with you.

leon was aware you’d never forgive him the moment he abandoned you inside that bedroom.

it’s for the best.

for you.

to be continued in PART II ── THE LUCKY ONES. MASTERLIST.

── ivy’s (very long) note : after SUCH a long time, it’s finally out ! <3 i really wasn’t expecting to end up with (around!!) 10k words ;o part two is already un progress and i PROMISE the sexual tension between the reader and leon will be crazy. this part has nothing compared to what i’m preparing. the reader is going to be a massive pain is the ass and brat for leon. again, i SWEAR it’s gonna be insane and sexual. I'll also explain their first time together.

my wish is to always make everyone feel as included as possible, so i avoid describing my readers outside their personalities and aesthetics. but i do like to mess around and give my readers unique traits and aesthetics. i had so much fun with this one <3 obviously, my readers are always inspired by myself and my own tastes !

i wanna share this fic’s pinterest board here, which i’ll also add to the masterlist when i post it. — SAY YOU WANT ME TOO. and also, credits to melscanvas_ on twt for the original screencap i used for my banner ! !

now, please let me know. would you like me to write a separate fic for the bar date? i can write so much about it, but that part alone can have up to 4k words, i think?

as always, interactions, especially reblogs are always super duper appreciated <3 thank you for reading, angels ! to join the taglist, please only leave a comment on this post. you can also comment on the masterlist post that i’ll link once it’s posted <3 love ya, mwuah!

he didn't think much of your schemes first, maybe you just had a headache. you were a little stunned when he came back from the kitchen with some water and pills in hand, snatching them from his hands with a huff, "not like.. that sick." you grumble, "what if something happens and you're not here?"

you heard him sigh out your name, "you have my number." he bluntly replied and you were far from amused at this.

"leon." you glared up at him from the couch, looking down at you he met your eyes with a candid expression.

“i’m supposed to be at the bar in..” glancing down at his watch, of course you didn’t miss the way his arm flexed at the small action, “twenty minutes and you’re telling me this now?” his eyebrow was raised with the question.

“it’s not a big deal, what? you’re gonna go see the same people you always do, get drunk, come back wasted, and forget what happened, woah, a real fun night.” you were being far from fair or reasonable but you couldn’t stop yourself now, there was no way he was walking out that door tonight and leaving you by yourself.

“stop talking, you’re really pissing me off now.” he scoffed, hands coming up to his face, groaning into his palms.

“babe..” you whined out, voice sickly sweet to his ears as he feels you squeeze your hand around his arm. fluttering your pretty eyelashes up at him when he moves his hands from his face.

he was gnawing on the inside of his cheek, glaring down at your face, eyes dragging over your lips, sheened and plush with some lip balm you had applied and your eyes were big, staring up at him, into what felt like his soul- god, you were dangerous to him.

a surprise to you, and even himself, leon pushes away your grip on him, turning away, “i’ll be three hours, how about that? it won’t even be midnight by then.”

cute, he was trying to compromise.

“no!” you moaned out, reaching out to grab his arm before he makes it to the door again.

uh oh, now you’ve really gone and done it, is what you think when suddenly he is turning round and gripping your jaw, painfully.

your eyebrows furrowed, feeling the uncomfortable ache from his grip, your nails digging into his arm, “you’re pushing it. i said no and you still can’t fucking accept it.” he shook your head a little in his grasp.

“what is wrong with you?” he spat out.

he let up his grip when his eyes drift down, watching how your thighs clench together and your back is arched to push yourself further against the material of the couch.

his tongue clicks against his teeth, tutting, “that’s what this is about, oh my god.” he stepped back, laughing in disbelief.

you would’ve been embarrassed, honestly, you should have been, but you were too far gone, had been ever since knowing him, leon kennedy made you absolutely feral, the way he carried himself, the gruff tone of his voice- how sexy he looked when he was pissed off.

oh yeah, he was right where you wanted him.

his brain was whirling as he looked you over once again, unbelievable, that’s why you had been prancing around in barely anything all day, clinging to his arm and being all sweet on him, buttering him up for this exact moment.

leon s. kennedy was a fool.

he could still walk away, he debated on it, no matter if you followed him to his bike, blew up his phone all night, cursed his name, he could fix it eventually, no?

he was thinking stupid, he knew was because why was he actually considering staying? maybe some shitty excuse to his friends in a halfhearted text. fuck it.

“i’m never doing this again.” he muttered, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and typing on the keys, sending a message to the group chat to tell them he wouldn’t be coming, apparently his bike wouldn’t start up this time.

you were gripping the couch underneath you, scared that if you even breathed too loud he would change his mind, your eyes hung low too, a little ashamed.

“get up.” you heard him but you didn’t move an inch, almost stuck to the couch, you got what you want, but at what cost?

“don’t act like you didn’t hear me,” he sighed, frustration in his voice, “get. up.” he spat out each word, but before you could even retaliate he grabbed your arm and your feet were moving so you didn’t trip.

his strength was no joke, due to all his training and experience he was probably a little harsher than he should've been, you knew it was deplorable to love it, but oh god you did, your stomach churned with an aching want, nerves lingering on fire where his hand had been when he let you fall back against the wall of the bedroom.

he suddenly felt much taller than you were used to, much more menacing and you almost forgot that this was your intention.

"i didn't mean to make you mad-" you were cut off, a laugh rumbling from his throat, "i'm sorry.. baby." you frowned, bringing your hands up to his cheeks, leaning in to press your lips to his, whiskey on his breath from pre-drinking, but he didn't reciprocate, your lips traveling from his, along his jaw, and feeling the texture of his stubble against your lips.

“touch me..” you whined against his jaw, getting irked when his hands stayed by his side, grabbing one to snake around your waist, hearing him breathe out before you felt him squeeze the plush fat of your ass.

"i should not be here, entertaining this." he grumbled and you could hear the vibrations in his throat, right next to your ear, "you ruined my night."

you frowned at that, "never, you stayed because you know i can make it better." you both knew you were right, quick hands fumbling to unbutton his shirt, palms flattening against his chest, feeling him over and pulling him further against you.

"you don't want me?" you whispered, almost inaudible if it wasn't for your proximity to each other.

his tongue was poked on the inside of his cheek, acting like he was even thinking about it, as though he had to swirl the idea around in his head to even consider it. leon kennedy wanted nothing more, his brain was corroded with nothing but you, maybe all those years of chasing down viruses and killing otherwordly monsters had plagued his mind, and he had gone crazy.

crazy felt good though, even better when he pressed up against you, cock strained in the ever increasingly tight pants he chose for tonight's ruined plans.

"i knew it." you giggled and it made his muscles tense, god, you were insufferable.

"i can't stand you." he grumbled out, he didn't mean it- he just said it in the moment, he moreso couldn't stand the way he gave into you so easily every time, without fail.

if it wasn't for his wandering hands, you would've replied back something snarky but the quip on your tongue fizzled out into a desperate mewl when his hand tugged down the underwear you were wearing, adorned in nothing else but those and a loose fitted shirt of his.

he looked ahead at you and you noticed his fingers in front of your vision before he spat down on two of his digits, the fluid dripping down the expanse of his fingers, some dripping on your thigh but you didn't mind, watching him duck his hand down, prying your thighs open with the back of his hand.

"o-oh.." you hummed, knocking your head against his shoulder you were gripping onto, your leg hiking up until he grabbed ahold of your upper thigh to keep you still and open.

his fingers were warm and slender, you always had a fascination with his hands, adored holding them, playing with his fingers, kissing each one, having them shoved down your throat, gripped around your neck, everything.

your breathing was shakey when his fingers slid up and down your puffy lips, a certain sharp breath exhaling from your throat when he pushed against your clit, earning him a smug smile on his face.

“inside , l-leon..” you fumbled your words, trying to angle your hips to get some leverage on his fingers.

“hmm? i can’t hear you sweetheart.” he frowned, lying.

you cried out in frustration, being worked up like this wasn’t fun but you supposed you deserved it after the fiasco of getting here, “inside, please, your fingers, i want them.” you pleaded, sounding as pretty and delicate as ever.

"only because you asked so nicely." he sighed, one of his fingers pushing between your slick folds, his spit making it much easier to push his finger inside your spongey walls, pumping it slowly until he could fit the whole digit in, up to his knuckle, "nother' one, please babe." you keened, breathy moans against his ear.

he shouldn't be the one following your lead, giving you everything so easily but he was, another finger accompanying the other, stretching your pussy open, fucking the two digits inside of you, pace increasing with each pump.

it had your back arching, your chest pushed against his, "mhm, that feels really good!" you gripped onto your older boyfriend's hair, tugging and earning a moan from his own lips.

each push of his fingers had you further reeling against him, you would've fallen if he didn't have a strong hold on your thigh. when he curled his fingers upward inside you, you swore you felt fireworks bursting inside your tummy, "leon!" you screeched.

you didn't mean to get so excited so quickly but you blamed it on your boyfriend, he knew each and every one of your little buttons to press, knew your body like the back of his hand- so when you got close, he knew it, you got louder, breathier and you would claw, scratch and squeeze any part of him you could get your hands on.

dread filled your body when his fingers dropped from between your legs, your oncoming orgasm fizzling away quicker than it came on, you could barely muster out a complaint, your body limply resting against leon, "why would you do that?" you whimpered out, eyes getting teary.

leon was always so generous, unless it was a quickie he was bringing you to no less than two orgasms every time, you don't think you've ever been denied one before and it made your whole body burn up.

"oh, poor baby." he cooed in a mocking tone, "i've always treated you way too good hmm? i think you forgot how to give me the same respect, angel."

"i told you m' sorry." you muffled out, looking up at him with the sweetest pout on your lips, and glassy eyes to match.

"you're not though, if you were we wouldn't be doing this, but you love getting your way, i've spoiled you." he shook his head disapprovingly.

he didn’t let you reply, his hand that was previously preoccupied with your pussy gripped your jaw again, his face leaning in until his lips meshed with yours in a sloppy wet kiss, his tongue darting out against yours, you felt insatiable and lightheaded, the grip he had on you both physically and mentally made you throb.

he pulled away, only slightly, to speak “is it bad i wanna eat your pussy right now, after everything? can you believe that? god, you’re not good for me.”

you moaned at that, feeling your warmth pulsing at the idea alone, “plea—“ he cut you off when he stuffed his thumb past your lips, shaking his head to indicate he didn’t wanna hear it.

“i’m too good to you.” he groaned, lips trailing wet kisses and nips of your skin downwards until you felt the tug of your shirt, “up.” he nodded his head to gesture that he wanted your arms up, doing as you were told your shirt swiftly came off.

he wasted no time when he saw your bare chest, lips attaching around your nipple as his hand toyed with the other, flicking and pinching the bud deliciously whilst his tongue swirled and licked.

you were feeling pure bliss, every nerve tingling and sending waves of ecstasy straight to your warmth.

you could’ve passed out right then and there when you noticed him drop to his knees, tongue dragging down your stomach, only stopping to turn his attention to prying your legs open once again.

it didn’t take him long to find a comfortable spot between your legs, with one thigh hooked over his shoulder he seemed satisfied and who were you to complain, your gorgeous boyfriend was about to eat you out.

you were brimming with excitement and need, legs practically already trembling when you looked down at him, his breath felt so close, his lips dragging along your inner thigh, biting at the soft flesh before suckling sweet little bruises into your skin.

tilting his head to the side, you held your breath, only to shakily exhale when you felt the tip of his tongue drag over your folds before swirling over your clit. he repeated the motion before flattening his tongue against your cunt, tongue delving between your folds and beginning a pattern of flicking his tongue inside you and licking upwards in between suckling your clit into his mouth, practically making out with the sensitive little nub- and the crude, wet sounds of your sopping cunt mixed with his tongue were getting you so worked up.

“o-oh my god!” you moaned out, hands flying to grip his hair, push his face further into your pussy, you wanted to beg for more but every time you opened your mouth another moan slipped out instead, he made you feel so good.

eating you out was just as pleasurable for you as it was him, he could spend hours between your legs. his head was shaking as he sucked your clit into his mouth, hearing you grow increasingly louder, moving to fuck his tongue into your cunt as his hand reached up to squeeze onto your waist.

looking down at him when he glanced up sent your body into waves of pleasure, you could see his mouth and chin glistening with your excitement and his salvia, he looked so messy, like he was having the time of his life with the dumbest smug smile still plastered on his face.

he pulled back and you cried out, head knocking back against the wall with a thump, breath heaving and nails clawing at your waist to calm yourself.

“such a greedy little pussy.” he sighed, spitting on your cunt before bringing his hand up to swat down on your clit, a surprised shriek sounding from your lips.

your body was quivering, the tingles of pain teetering more on the line of utter pleasure and joy.

“you’re such a dick.” you huff out, tugging his hair once again and hearing him wince in pain.

“after all that, you still insult me?” he chuckled, dropping your leg back by your side, and standing back up in front of you, “i’m the nicest guy you’ll ever meet baby.” you heard the metal of his zipper before the fabric dropped to the ground, kicking it from under his feet.

glancing down you saw how strained he was against his boxers, dick twitching in the thin fabric, you could play nice too but dramatic or not if you don’t feel him inside you in the next five minutes you would jump out the window.

bringing your hands down you helped him rid him of his boxers, thrown somewhere amongst the other pile of clothes, his dick slapped against his stomach, standing tall and you could feel the drool pooling in your mouth at the sight of him.

“stay with me baby.” he chuckles, noticing how dazed you looked, you shook your head, arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders, leaning up on your tip toes.

“i want you so badly.” you whispered sweetly in his ear, teeth grazing his lobe before licking up his neck.

your body jolted when you felt a harsh sting on your ass, before you were lifted up, his footsteps trailing to the bed until you felt the mattress beneath you, leaning up on your elbows and seeing his finger twirl in the air, “ass up.” he tilted his head, hand gripped on his cock, stroking leisurely as his eyes drank in every inch of your body.

you could’ve laid there a little longer and watched him but you were aching with need, turning yourself over, with your chest pressed into the sheets and your ass up in the air.

you swayed your hips playfully as you heard the creaking of the bed, indicating he was situating himself behind you, giggling when you felt his hands rub over your skin, from your ass and settling on your waist, “you’re so pretty.” he thought aloud.

“i can be even prettier with your cock stuffed inside me.” you quipped, pushing back against him.

he chuckled, “you’re disgusting.” he loved it though, you knew it too.

his thumb rubbed along the soft skin of your waist as he positioned his length in between your legs, pushing himself inside your soaking cunt with ease thanks to his fingers and mouth prepping you.

“o-oh my god, leon!” you gasped, hands stretching above your head as you already pushed yourself further down on him, greedy as always.

“fuck..” he stared in awe at where the two of your bodies met, the way you got his cock slick with your arousal and how deep he was stuffed inside you already, “love fucking this pussy so much.” he rasped out, pulling his hips back, hearing you already complain until he slammed back into you, hips flush against the back of your thighs.

you loved everything, every little sensation, every push of his hips and every inch of him, you felt like you couldn’t get enough, “f-feels s’uh good, you’re mine m’kay?” you muffled against the sheets, reaching your arm back behind you until you got a hold of his hand.

he laughed, “i’m yours?” he repeated, leaning over you and oh my god the way he angled his hips intentionally or not had your eyes rolling back, nails digging in to his hand enough to draw blood.

“fuck, yesyesyes!” you chanted, “you’re mine, mhm, no one else can have this, can have you.” you wailed against the sheets until you felt your body being raised from your position, until your back was flush with his chest, his arm had come around to push against your neck, in a softer version of a chokehold.

“this dicks all yours hmm? is that what you wanna hear? that no one else but you can take it? no one else deserves it? you’re a greedy fucking brat.” he grunted, fucking himself up into you, the sounds of your wet soppy cunt squeezing him back in every time he even moved an inch.

you felt lightheaded, thanks to being denied two orgasms your stomach was twisting and whirling with every word he said and every little thing he did, evident by how whiney and incoherent you got.

he had a good hold on you, hips shallowly slapping against your ass as his cock pumped quickly into you, feeling you pulse and clench around him, his own thighs and yours sticky with your arousal.

“you’re close, i know you are, mmm, pussy sucking me in so deep.” he groaned, finding it hard to concentrate when he was so deep in your guts.

you got squirmy as you got closer, your nails clawing at his arm and your hips bouncing to meet his pace, “fuck! fuck! leon, oh my- nnghn!” you squealed, feeling yourself cumming, cunt fluttering around his length, making even more of a mess than you already have.

“oh my god, leon.” you whimpered, still bouncing against him and he didn’t let up his own pace, happy to help you ride out your own high as he chased his.

he let you fall back against the bed, body flush with the sheets though he pushed your ass further in the air once again, a spew of curses leaving his lips, “this pussys so fucking addicting, oh baby.” he moaned, thrusts sloppy and he could hear you mewling again, body still trembling from your own orgasm.

“y’gonna cum again sweetheart?” he laughed out, feeling you push back against him, “you’re fucking crazy, i love it.” he gasped, gripping onto the back of your neck as he fucked you into the mattress, your whimpers of pleasure muffled by the silk sheets.

“ah, fuck! i’m gonna fucking cum.” he growled, cock drilling into your abused pussy, “holy s-shit! ugh!” he threw his head back, hot ropes of cum spurting inside you which pushed you over the edge once again, fingertips squeezing onto the sheets below you as your arousal and his seeped out of you, sticky substances dripping onto your thighs and the mattress.

“oh my god..” he breathed heavily, “you’re so gorgeous.” he sighed, pulling himself out and admiring how messy you were, his length glistening and your pussy was still pushing out his cum, pulsing around nothing as you still reeled from your second orgasm.

you were breathless as you flopped onto the bed, ignoring the uncomfortable sticky mess for now, hearing leon soon join you in laying down, his hands coming up to tug you towards him, a firm kiss being placed on your forehead.

leon walks you backwards towards the counter until the edge of it is digging into your hips, “c’mon, we haven’t got long,” he huffs after he kisses you one last time and then, he spins you around and leaves you staring at him in the mirror with your face flushed pink and your chest heaving in short pants

“long for what?” you ask in a whisper and your answer comes in the form of leon bending you over with a hand planted on your spine while the other rucks the skirt of your dress up and over your ass, “leon, my dads outside—everyone’s outside,” you hiss and flail your arm in an attempt to swat his hand away from your body

your eyes flicker towards the frosted glass window that’s cracked open and overlooks the backyard where your dad is hosting his annual barbecue. there’s several people outside, friends and coworkers plus all of their families. it’s beyond risky but you don’t really seem to care when leon is grinding up against you

he’s hard and straining along the zipper on his jeans, bulging and squishing into the swell of your ass with every shift of his hips that knocks you off balance. you accidentally stand on leon's boots as your thighs clench but you manage to steady yourself by gripping onto the edge of the counter for leverage

“that’s why we haven’t got long,” leon mumbles eventually and then smooths his hand over your ass cheek until his fingers are teasing underneath the hem of your panties. you whine as he pulls them away from your body and the thin fabric separates from your wet pussy, “fuck—you’re already soaked,”

“have been all day—since you got here,” you sigh whilst his knuckle drags along the length of your cunt, from your hole down to your clit where his touch ghosts. it makes you whimper and try to push back against him but as you do, he pulls his hand away and slides your panties to the side in a rush

cool air fans over your warm skin and raises tiny pinprick bumps that tickle down your arms and over your thighs, causing you to shiver, regardless of the fact that it’s a warm, sunny, day—the perfect kind of day for your dad to host a party while his best friend fucks you senseless in the bathroom

“shit, me too—been hard this whole time ‘cos of your fuckin’ dress,” leon drawls while he undoes his belt with his free hand and then works the zipper on his jeans down without looking because he’s too busy ogling you and your—very short— ditsy dress in the mirror

truthfully, your dress isn’t anything special. it’s flowy and airy, perfect for the nice weather but it has thin little straps and contours around your tits nicely and you know for a fact that it always drives leon crazy. which, might have been the reason you reached for it when you were getting ready

“it’s my favo—oh,” you trail off into a quiet moan when the blunt head of leon’s cock nudges against your clit. he slips down the center of your pussy slowly, collecting and smearing slick over himself until there’s an easy glide between your skin and his before he presses against your dripping hole

“yeah, mine too,” leon breathes before he pushes into you. the sudden stretch is intense but it's everything that you’ve been needing all day and it causes your pussy to clamp down around him instantly, feeling every part of him and preventing him from going any further like he so desperately wants to

his hand slides over your hip, squeezing softly and bunching up fabric from your dress as he goes while you whimper and clench around him. eventually though, you reach back to loop your fingers around his wrist, scratching your nails over tanned skin, and that’s enough for him

leon sinks into you slowly, pushing in and then pulling out a little bit before he does it all over again. he’s thick and it forces your legs to part further than they already are to take him but, leon does you one better than that and grabs at the back of your thigh to manhandle your leg up until your knee is resting on the counter

“oh fuck,” you groan into your palm in an attempt to stay quiet as the new angle quickly drops him deeper into you, forcing him to bottom out and bump his heavy balls against your clit. you can feel him everywhere, deep inside of you, in your stomach and knocking the air out of your lungs, all at once

you watch in the mirror as leon traps his bottom lip between his teeth and stares down at where your bodies join, eyeing the fluttering of your cunt around the base of his cock and the thin sheen of slick that you’re coating his skin with and then, just as slowly as he sunk into you, he pulls back out

it’s a dizzying feeling, the drag of his length against the walls of your pussy, that are crushing him in a desperate bid to keep him trapped inside of you forever. if you had it your way, he’d be there all day, every day, but that—unfortunately—can’t happen since your dad has no idea that you and leon have been fucking for months

that’s what makes it more special though, you suppose. the fact that moments are stolen and kept secret, they’re rushed and not often planned and sometimes, it can be a long while before they happen again. so, you’ve started to make a conscious effort to savour whatever you can, when you can

“ready angel? m’not gonna be able to be nice about this,” leon asks, sounding genuinely apologetic. he likes to take his time with you normally, pulling you apart and putting you back together with his tongue or his fingers, always with his cock, but right now, time isn’t on your side

“yeah—yeah, it’s okay,” you whisper before you get caught in a silent moan as leon fucks into you in a single but harsh roll of his hips. you go from devastatingly empty to completely full to the brim in the blink of an eye and as much as you want to, you can’t make a sound

leon does though. he grunts against his will and hangs his head while he picks up his pace. his cock plunges into your cunt on every thrust, from the tip to the base in long strokes that makes your clit throb and cause a burn to spread throughout your stomach like a wildfire

outside, in the yard, people laugh loudly and it makes you tense up inadvertently while your eyes flicker back and forth between the window and leon’s reflection but, his eyes are lustful and there isn’t even a hint of care or worry in them as his pace doesn’t break for even a second

“focus here, not there,” he mumbles and gives both of your hips a reassuring squeeze before he leans over you. his chest rumbles against your back with every silenced groan and his lips ghost over your shoulder, prompting you to relax underneath him almost immediately, “yeah, just like that,”

his low mumbles pair with one of his hands sliding up and over your ribs to your tits. he yanks your dress down and your tit practically falls out and into his awaiting palm where his fingers dimple into your soft skin as he gropes and swipes his calloused fingertips over your perky little nipple

“god—leon,” you gasp and jerk with pleasure that’s being shared equally between his cock splitting you open, his wandering hands and the brush of his lips. it’s nothing like you’ve ever felt before, dancing along a thin line that’s somewhere around too much and simultaneously not enough

but, before leon can do anything more or answer you with something deep and—not doubt—wildly attractive, his phone starts to buzz on the edge of the counter. you didn’t even notice it earlier but you do now because the contact information that brightens his screen is for your dad

once again, you tense and if you weren’t sandwiched between leon and the counter, you would dart out of the bathroom in a hurry, “what the fuck do we do—what does he want?” you hiss in a panic even though your cunt is still fluttering and clenching around leon’s length

“i don’t know, let’s find out,” leon says in a deadpan tone as he reaches for his phone and doesn’t give you a chance to protest before he’s swiping his thumb across the screen to answer the call and putting his phone up to his ear, “yeah? what’s up?” he asks plainly

thankfully, you can’t hear what your father wants and whatever it is has the snap of leon’s hips slowing right down until he’s fully seated inside of you and starting to grind, which you wouldn’t mind if the tip of his cock wasn’t rubbing right over your cervix with the shift of his hips

“nah, i’m upstairs,” leon mumbles, his voice sounding oddly normal considering that you can feel him twitching inside of you. he must be asked another question because his eyebrows raise and then, “your kid? haven’t seen her, man” he lies through his teeth easily and smirks something filthy at you in the mirror

you should be terrified—disgusted even—but instead, your stomach flips and the dirty kiss of his cock against your cervix starts to do more for you than when he was properly fucking into you. leon watches you as your eyes roll back and your reddening cheeks puff outwards and...

the realisation hits you and him at the same time. you’re going to come whilst he’s talking to your dad—who’s literally just downstairs—and there’s nothing that can be done to stop it now

one of your hands slaps over your mouth as noises start to escape while the other shoves its way between your body and the counter to swirl your fingertips in furious circles over your throbbing clit. you’re too far gone and chasing a high that you shouldn’t be and all leon can do is witness it

if he’s still talking, you don’t hear it over the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears but you just simply don’t care as leon’s eyes sharpen in his reflection. his brows furrow and his jaw tightens and his hips start to buck quicker, making the grind of your bodies speed up too

tears prick along your waterlines and spill down your cheeks in fat drips, your ass bounces back against leon to meet his half assed thrusts and the coil in your stomach twists until it hurts. you’re right there and blinking at leon with wet lashes and a silent plead for him to push you over the edge—and he does

he slides in deep, slamming the head of his cock against your cervix while he tilts his phone away from his ear and then tips his head to one side and simply mouths, “come,” and your body is more than happy to oblige

searing heat courses through your veins and makes you sweat in an instant as your body shakes. your knee drops off of the edge of the counter and you trample over leon’s boots again while your knees buckle, prompting him to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you mostly upright and on his cock

you’re not sure if you make a sound, the whooshing in your ears is far too loud but your thighs tremble and your teeth grate together—that much you do know. you’re clamping around leon like a vice and his cock is jerking in time with your uneven clenches which means that he has to be close too

the coolness of the countertop soothes your damp forehead as you rest against it and ride out your orgasm with the help of leon’s hips rocking gently. except, your bliss gets interrupted when leon discards his phone onto the counter with a thud

“good girl,” he growls and clutches at your hips one last time. you're pliant from your orgasm and easy for him to control while he pounds into you like an animal, “so fucking good—god, wonder what your daddy would say if he knew you were up here—shit—coming around my cock,” he rambles

a sob rips out of your chest as leon spears his full length into your sensitive cunt. it aches in a dull way that makes your thighs snap shut and your fingers flex and bend until your knuckles are white, “he’d kill you,” you sniffle amidst the sound of leon’s skin colliding with yours

“yeah well, it’d be worth it,” leon grumbles deeply as his thrusts start to become uneven and sloppy, a telltale sign, “fuck—m’gonna come—c’mere, can’t make a mess of you yet,” he slurs his words and pulls out of you too quickly, eliciting your gasped yelp while he turns you around and shoves you down onto your knees

your tongue lolls out of your mouth when leon reaches down to hold your jaw. his other hand is sliding over his cock frantically, leaving his palm covered in a sheen of your slick. he jerks, once, twice, three times and then feeds the head of his cock past your lips, just in time for his length to kick

leon grunts above you, not nearly as loud as he usually does but still loud enough for it to be suspicious if anyone overheard it. neither of you appear to mind though as thick ropes of his come splash across your tongue and drip down your throat, coating it with the taste of him

his fingers stroke softly over your jaw while you hum and swallow around him lazily until he’s got nothing left to give you and his cock starts to soften. you pull off of him with a little pop, lick over your lips and then stand up while wincing over the pain darting though your kneecaps as you straighten your legs

there’s a moment of silence where leon traps you between him and the counter again but this time his arms wrap tightly around your body and his lips press softly against your hairline. it won’t last for long—it can’t—but you enjoy it for the few seconds that it does last

“m’sorry but one of us has to go out there, now,” he murmurs when he steps back and tucks himself back into his pants. he looks far more put together than you are, you’re sweaty and your dress needs rearranging and truthfully you just need a minute to breathe and hopefully stop your legs from shaking

“go, i’ll come out afterwards,” you whisper and slide the strap to your dress up your arm and back over your shoulder. leon just nods, kisses you properly, only a peck but it’ll do, and shoves his phone into his back pocket while he reaches for the door handle, “wait—what did you mean you can’t make a mess of me yet?”

leon just winks and then he’s gone

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah ily! send prompts to my ask box!

a/n once again edited terribly but i wanted to get it out tonight x

He shouldn’t be hard right now.

He tears his eyes away from you, trying to exert some degree of self-restraint. And he almost groans as he hears the sound you make you when you stretch, leaning further back in your chair. He lets his eyes wander back to you discreetly, and he watches as you straighten out your legs before crossing them at the ankles. He can vividly imagine the sounds you’d make as he kisses up your calf and thigh, biting the soft and sensitive skin. 

And then you basically ruin him. You pull your hair up high and tie it up in a ponytail before putting your glasses on. You look like a frazzled professional that needs to relax, and he wants to bend you over your desk as you keep grading. 

He’s now uncomfortably hard, and the rational part of his brain tells him he can’t let you see. With just one glance in his direction, you’d easily see how he’s straining against his jeans. But he’s not listening to the rational part of his brain. He’s hoping you see.

He averts his gaze then clears his throat before taking a swig from his hard apple cider. Though he’s not looking your way now, he can feel your gaze on him. As he takes another sip, he slowly drifts his eyes back to you to meet your eyes. He watches as your skin flushes and you turn back to your work, and he smirks. Now you can feel his gaze on you, and your shoulders tense from the feeling. You know he stands from his seat on the couch and you can hear his footsteps approaching you, but you refuse to take your eyes off your student’s paper. You know if you make eye contact with him again, you’ll melt. 

So when you feel his hands fall on your shoulders, you’re absolutely helpless. You freeze in his grasp. He brings his face down so he can say in your ear, “You seem tense.” He slowly starts moving his fingers, pressing them into your flesh from over your blouse. You let out a shaky breath and it only spurs him on. “You’ve been working hard. Relax for me…” He digs his fingers in a little harder and you slowly drop your hands down to the armrests of your chair. As you let him touch you and ease your aching muscles, you let out a half moan. You’re in such bliss that you don’t even realize when you do.

But Leon does. And it forces his fingers to grip you tighter on reflex. Every part of his body is hot, screaming at him to touch himself, or better yet, have you do it for him.

Not yet, he decides. He needs to break you down, make you want him as much as he wants you. And break you down he does.

You lean your head back against the headrest, eyes closed, and Leon can see pleasure in your features. He works his hands a little lower, just above the swell of your breasts, before ghosting them back up to your shoulders. You shudder at the feeling and Leon takes it as a sign to keep going. He dips his fingers below the high collar of your shirt and can feel the heat of your skin. Now, your body rolls just slightly, without your permission, savoring his touch. 

Leon steps closer to the back of your chair and feels it against his throbbing cock, the friction causing him to breathe out a sigh of pleasure. But it doesn’t reach your ears as you’re concerned with your own pleasure.

This is it, Leon thinks to himself, I’m thoroughly fucked.

His fingers glide down your skin, this time skimming the top of your tits, testing the waters. When you take in a sharp breath but do nothing to stop him, he gets a little bolder. His lips just barely ghost against your ear. “Enjoying yourself?”

All you can do is nod.

He smirks against you. “Always working so much. You should take a break. Let me help you…” His voice is low and sultry. 

You barely breathe out, “Okay,” before he’s gently slipping the left sleeve of your blouse off your shoulder. His fingers trace the strap of your black lace bra and you hear him let out a light sigh. He pulls on the strap and lets it snap back against your skin. Your body tenses up again as he does, and you can’t decide if you want to run or freeze.

“Don’t worry, princess,” he whispers in your ear. “Just relax…” And then he’s placing hot, wet kisses on your neck, and you feel like you really have melted into a puddle. His fingers begin to dance along your exposed collarbone and you shiver at the sensation. You want him to touch you more. You grab his wrist and pull his hand to your breast, wanting him to touch you there. But he gently pries your fingers from his wrist and continues to trace your collarbone and up your neck.

“Eager, are we?” he growls lowly. “You’re gonna have to be patient, princess. Hope you can forgive me for taking my time.” He goes back to kissing your neck, this time nipping at it and leaving the faintest of marks along your skin.

You whine at him. “Please, Leon… I need more.” Your finger nails dig into your armrest.

“More, huh? Would it help if I…” he drags his lips up to your jaw and kisses it sensually, “kissed you here?” His hand starts to drift around your neck. “Or what if I…” He wraps his hand around your throat and applies pressure to the sides. “Touched you here?” You start gasping from the feeling. “You like this?”

“Yes…” you whisper out. “Fuck, Leon, I–” you don’t even know what you were going to say and can’t finish your own sentence, already feeling dumb from the way he dominates you. 

“You what? Go ahead, sweetheart, you can do it. Use your words,” he says as the hand that isn’t holding your throat continues the dance along your collarbone. 

Your eyes are nearly rolling to the back of your head from his hold on your throat and you just barely process what he says. You muster out whatever words your brain can supply you. “I need to taste you…” Your tongue lolls out of your mouth, as if you’re trying to prove to him how much you mean what you say. 

He smiles down at you and moves the hand around your throat to grip your jaw. “And what were you looking to taste, princess?” He looks down into your eyes from above you.

You gulp down your nerves as you say, “First your fingers, then your cock. Please…” You make sure not to forget your manners as you tell him what it is you want. 

He smiles at your blatant want. “And why do you want that so bad?”

Here is where you swallow your pride and confess. “I’ve wanted to be on my knees for you for months…” you admit. “Wanted to jump your bones from the very beginning…”

He hums in satisfaction. “Why didn’t you just say so?” And then he’s spinning your desk chair around to face him, and he braces his arms against the desk behind you to cage you in. “Now tell me again… what you wanted to taste.” He brings a hand to tip your chin up, his thumb grazing your bottom lip.

Instead of telling him, you show him. You open your mouth and run your tongue against his thumb before taking it into your mouth. You gently suck and graze your teeth along it and moan. And you keep your eyes on his the whole time. 

“Very good,” he says as you slow down. “And what was the other thing again?”

You gaze up at him with pleading eyes, but his expression doesn’t change from the soft smirk he’s had for a while. So you reach out towards him and start fumbling with his belt, trying desperately to get it off.

“Need help, princess?” he asks before undoing his belt for you and popping open the button of his jeans. You watch as his hands work, and your mouth waters at the size of the bulge pressing up against the denim. You’d seen it when he’d been sitting, but it feels much bigger up close. Now it presses against his black boxer briefs and you almost drool at the sight. You dart your eyes up to his expectantly, waiting on his next words. 

He smiles down at you and runs a hand through your hair before gripping tight. “Get on your knees for me, princess.”

You comply with his request without hesitation and maintain eye contact. His hand is still in your hair, and he pulls your face so your cheek rubs up against his hard length. He smirks. “Well go ahead. Help yourself.”

You bring your fingers up tentatively to just below his navel, tracing the happy trail that leads below his waistband before you’re peeling it down and away. You swallow hard when you see just how big he is. You always figured he would be, but actually seeing it has you dazed and dumbstruck. 

A small chuckle drags your gaze back up to him. “What is it, princess? Too big for you?”

Knowing that trying to say anything will just result in a jumble of words, you lick your lips and bring a hand up to wrap around his cock, giving light and small strokes. Leon lets out a sigh of pleasure and drops his head back. When he does, you run your tongue along the underside all the way up to the tip where you wrap your lips around him, eyes raised to watch his face screw up in pleasure.

The hand in your hair grips tighter and pushes you forward, forcing him into your wet mouth. Your eyes water and roll back as you feel his cock press against your tongue.

“So fucking good for me,” Leon rasps out as he begins to pull your head back before pushing you even further, his cock hitting the back of your throat. “This what you wanted, princess? Wanted me to use you like a fucking toy?” He starts to buck his hips along with pushing and pulling your head, and you have to brace your hands against his thighs. He’s fucking your mouth like a man possessed, and you’ve never been more soaked. You pull a hand from his thigh to hike up your tight skirt just enough to touch yourself, tactlessly rubbing through your panties.

Without warning, Leon shoves you all the way to his base, and you fight the urge to gag. His body shudders as he moans, and you feel the hot ropes of his cum dripping down your throat. Tears stream down your face and you moan around him from the sensation. After a few moments, he lets you go and you reel back, coughing. And then his fingers are gripping around your jaw and forcing you to look at him. 

“Open that mouth, princess.”

And you do, lolling out your tongue on instinct.

Leon smiles seeing that you swallowed all his cum. Then he’s gripping your tongue and spitting on it. “Swallow.”

You whine, painfully turned on, and do as he says, opening your mouth again to show him.

He hums out a, “good girl,” and lets go of your jaw, once again bringing his hand up to grip your hair before commanding, “Up.” He tugs on your hair and you scramble to stand back up on your feet. The moment you are, he’s gripping your ass with his other hand and lifting you onto your desk. He pulls your hair to force you to lay back as he slots himself between your legs. The hand that gripped your ass is now bunching your skirt up around your waist and squeezing at your thigh. With one look at his eyes, you can see they are glazed over. 

The hand that squeezes your thigh slowly makes its way to your core and he grazes a knuckle over your wet panties. “You’re fucking soaked for me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” His words have you spreading your legs wider for him. He smirks and takes it as an invitation, pushing your panties to the side before running a finger through your slick folds. Leon leans in to whisper in your ear, “I’m going to ruin this pretty little pussy with my fingers until you’re crying for my cock.” He dips a finger into you, only down to the first knuckle. “So fucking tight for me, princess.” He pushes in deeper, all the way to the base of his finger.

“Fuck!” you cry out, feeling like it’s too much and not enough at the same time. Leon smirks against your ear and starts fucking into you at a painfully slow pace. “Please, please, faster!” you beg and repeat some of his words back to him. “Ruin my pretty pussy!” 

He obliges, adding a second finger as he picks up speed. Your toes are already curling from the pleasure, but you nearly scream when his thumb starts circling your clit with the perfect amount of pressure. It has you stringing together curses, unable to form a coherent thought. 

A third finger sends you to the moon.

“I already fuck you dumb, sweetheart?” It’s mean, the way he says it. But it has you hurtling towards the edge.

“I-I’m gonna!... Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you manage to spit the words out. You can feel the knot tightening low in your belly, getting closer and closer.

“Poor thing,” Leon teases, placing more pressure on your clit, bringing you right to the edge. Just as you’re about to cum, he wrenches his hand away.

Now you’re screaming and tears are threatening to stream down your face from your ruined orgasm. You can’t help but bring a hand of your own down to your core, needing to finish what he started. But before you can even touch yourself, Leon’s hand catches your wrist.

“You’re not cumming unless it’s on my cock, sweetheart.” He brings his free hand to your inner thigh, slowly inching up to where you really need his touch. “And you’re not getting my cock till you’re crying for it, remember?” A finger teases your entrance, not yet pushing in. You feel like if he did, you might cum right then and there.

You whine at his touch and feel a tear finally run down your cheek from how bad you need him. “Please… Please fuck me. Fuck me however you want, just please let me cum!” You surprise yourself with how clearly you beg for him.

The hand that was holding your wrist lets go, and he uses his thumb to wipe away the tear. He looks down at you with a fire in his eyes. “How could I say no to that?” Before you can even process what he’s doing, his hands are gripping your panties and ripping them apart, leaving your pussy completely on display. The instant they’re gone, his cock is sliding through your folds, collecting your slick and grazing your clit. His hands have a bruising grip on your hips as he holds you in place. Once again, Leon’s lips are at your ear as he whispers, “Be a good girl and scream.”

He buries himself into your pussy in one swift thrust. The stretch of his cock does make you scream as you find your nails digging into his biceps, the muscles flexed. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust as he sets a brutal pace, ramming into your pussy over and over. His hands eventually leave your hips to grip under your knees, pushing them up for a new angle.

Your eyes are permanently rolled into the back of your head and your mouth hangs open. You can feel your pussy clenching down around him and your orgasm is building again as he bullies your tight cunt. Moan after moan escapes your throat.

“Your pretty pussy belongs to me, isn’t that right, princess?” Leon asks without slowing down his pace. He wants to see you try to answer with his cock fucking you stupid.

It takes you a moment to realize he even asked you a question. Once your brain catches up, you mumble out, “Yes, s-sir…” The words have Leon’s cock throbbing and he moans at the feeling.

“Your pretty little pussy takes me so well. What a good fucking girl you are.” He slows down his pace just to make his thrusts harsher, fucking right into the spot that makes you scream again.

Again, you can feel the knot in your belly tighten. “Please! Please let me cum!” you beg him. “Want to cum on your cock! Please!”

“Good girl, asking for permission. Go ahead, princess.” He leans down to your ear one last time to command you. “Cum.”

With just a few more thrusts, you’re coming undone on his cock, pussy clenching down on him in quick succession. Your orgasm rips a wanton moan from you, so loud the neighbors could probably hear it.

Leon fucks you through your orgasm, not letting up. As your cunt squeezes him, he groans. “Want me to cum inside this sweet pussy of yours, sweetheart?”

You’re still riding the high of your orgasm as you chant out the word, “yes,” over and over again. And Leon happily listens. He buries his cock to the base as he cums, cock throbbing hard, and he swears it’s the best orgasm he’s ever had. He groans as he starts fucking his cum into you, reveling in the slickness of your cunt. After a few thrusts, he pulls out, still hard, and kneels in front of you.

You’re so blissed out you don’t realize what he’s doing until you feel his tongue against you. “Fuck, you can’t do that…” you say half-heartedly. “I-I’m too s-sensitive.”

Leon shushes you and you feel his hot breath against you. “Shh, I need to clean you up, princess. You still have work to do.” He drags the flat of his tongue from your entrance all the way up to your clit as you feel his cum leak out of you. You shudder at the feeling and twist a hand into his hair.

He hums against your pussy before fucking his tongue into you, intent on tasting the way his cum mixes with yours. He pulls back for just a moment to say, “Look so fucking pretty with my cum in you. Maybe I should fill you up a second time.” He doesn’t give you time to react before diving back in, his tongue pulling more of his and your cum into his mouth. All you can do is moan again.

You’re not sure how much time has passed before Leon pulls his mouth away, seemingly satisfied. You basically collapse back against your desk, trying to catch your breath. Leon stands and then bends to hover over you, planting his hands on either side of your head. He leans down to kiss you, and you can taste yourself on his lips, then on his tongue as he forces his way into your mouth. You suck on it and moan.

When Leon pulls away, he smirks at you. 

“What’s a pretty guy doing here, all alone?” You played coy, flagging the bartender for a drink while (not-so-subtly) looking at him to see if he'll take the bait.

“…” No response. It seemed as if he was stuck in his own lonely world.

“Goldilocks?” You tried again, deadset on getting his attention, even if he's straight up refusing to give you a crumble.

“…Me?” He gruffed. Oh? That got a reaction out of him.

The stranger took another shot, stubbornly refusing to glance at you—refusing to give the attention you craved.

“Of course, you.” You chuckled, refusing to give up.

“Sorry, didn’t know.” He grunts. What a broody man.

“Girlfriend dumped you?”

Hook, line, and sinker. That made him pause. Must've hit a nerve.

“That's your way of asking if I have one?” He replied with a scoff, a petty smirk making itself known.

“You’re cute. Got me already.” You hummed, aiming to catch him off guard.

That got him to finally look at you. His eyes widen a fraction—barely even noticeable—as a light flush dusts his cheeks.

“How would I get you if I don’t even know your name?” He countered, finally having the courage to respond.

“Damn, you’re smooth.” You whistled, giving your name with a grin. Fuck, he was finally interested.

“Hm? What a pretty name,” he mumbled your name, a slight quirk lifting his lips. “Sounds like your mother loves you.”

Now that… kinda made your heart speed up. As if you unknowingly signed a bound-for-life contract with a person whose name you don’t even know, no less. You talked for hours; the conversation fell into a mad, easy rhythm. He looked familiar—as if you’ve seen him somewhere before. You don’t know when or where, but gosh, something about him felt unbearably enchanting. Like he bewitched you—letting him carve a hole in your heart with a sign that says ‘I live here now lol’.

Well, that’s a one-way ticket to enter his home.

No, seriously, he did take you to his apartment—sorry, penthouse. It was nearby, and neither of you was hammered enough to drive—it was relatively safe.

What happened after wasn’t safe at all, though.

After his front door opened, lust resumed to cloud your minds. You felt his presence looming behind you, his hands steady on your waist. The moment the door closed? He’s pouncing on you like an animal starved for weeks. Lips on lips, tongue to tongue, rough hands exploring the canvases of your bodies. His hand snuck on the back of your head, pulling you impossibly closer and angling his wet appendage even deeper—sweet sounds involuntarily leaving your throat, and he swallows it down like a champ. He tastes like a hint of mint and strong whiskey. God, you hoped the walls were thick.

Your hands slide inside his shirt with feather-like precision, moving from his soft pectorals (now hardened as you felt him flex) to his defined abdominal muscles. Six packs, you counted. You felt him shiver as your hands moved dangerously lower to where he needed you most.

He slowly, begrudgingly pulled away, panting as a string of saliva connected you. The erotic display made your head fuzzy with need, forgetting the fact that you literally didn’t know his name. He could be a serial killer for all you care, but it doesn’t matter as long as he’s giving you a taste of ecstasy.

“Leon.” He groaned, and your brain lagged, leaving you momentarily frozen. A small ‘huh?’ was all you could conjure.

“Leon Kennedy, the name you’ll be screaming later, gorgeous.” He grunts, and a wide predatory grin settles on his face as he kisses you with the same—if not more—vigour as before.

His arm wandered behind your legs, effortlessly lifting you. You yelped, scrambling to hold him tighter. All that bastard did was laugh, nosing and playfully biting your stomach. Hard to be annoyed when he quite literally rocked your world moments after. You couldn’t leave immediately after, even if you tried—you felt like a fish walking in the sand for the first time with the way that your legs. just. won’t. work.

So you let him romance you with aftercare. Soft, fleeting kisses and gentle hands tidying you up.

The next day was far from different. Now, the reason why you couldn’t walk away wasn't just because of your out-of-commission legs. You couldn’t walk away simply because a man—Leon, as you've learnt—has you locked in his strong arms and hulking muscles. Every time you shift, his hold would get even tighter. And you couldn’t even pry his hands off your waist; you tried it, and it was useless.

So, what did you do?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Nothing but placing your hand on his cheek while admiring him close up. His soft jawline, his disheveled hair perfectly framing his face, his soft, inviting lips—anything, really. It was as if he was sculpted by the Goddess of beauty herself.

But then, you felt him shift. You were startled, quickly trying to pull your hand away. Keyword: trying. Because just as quickly, his large hand shot up to hold your smaller one—interwining—keeping it from trying to move. You squirmed; his other arm (from below your waist) trapped you in place. It was all too sudden—your eyes widen a fraction as you feel him nuzzle into your warm palm, a soft sigh escaping him.

“Hi,” Leon mumbled, locking eyes with you. His voice was rough, given that he had just woken up, but his eyes. His eyes held affection. Utterly devastating affection, just for you.

Now that made your insufferable heart ache.

And that, was the start of your situationship with a broody, corny, infuriatingly handsome man named Leon (Ass) Kennedy.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

“Hey, Lee?”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Let’s end this—whatever this is.”

“Huh, wha—”

You ended the call, not even bothering to let him finish.

It’s been months of this fuckass cat-and-fish game you didn’t even know you were playing. Months of this on-and-off, months of this disappearing game, and gosh, you’re tired. Tired of him treating whatever you two have as nothing but a mere plaything; tired of your stupid, traitorous heart for always beating faster because of him; tired of yourself for letting him use you just as he pleases.

So yeah, you’re done. You’ve exhausted yourself, and it’s time to get your life back together.

That’s what you would say if you didn’t hear a car pull out in your driveway and the bell ringing incessantly immediately right after.

When you opened the door (because admit it, you were kinda curious—and maybe wanna play round two), all you saw were flowers—a bunch of them. A gorgeous floral arrangement, boxes of chocolates, and a puppy-eyed Leon Kennedy begging you to reconsider.

Safe to say, you were one big dumb down-bad idiot and did something more than just get back together (unofficially).

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The third time was… admittedly kinda different.

He’s in one of his disappearing games again, dodging the topic of whatever it is that he’s doing for a living. You were honestly convinced that he was part of the mafia or something at some point, given the way he acted.

He said no, and you digress. The look of his offended face was something to coo over, blue-boba eyes staring at you like you have five foreheads and an antenna. You would’ve smacked him if he weren’t handsome.

But that’s not the point, no.

The point is that when you inevitably call him (because you missed his clingy ass), a lady with a very pretty voice answers.

“Lee, oh my god, where the fuck have you been?! It’s been what, like five weeks with no—”

“Hi! Sorry, not Leon. He’s kinda busy at the moment, call back later. Bye!”

“…”

“That fucking bastard hung up!” You screamed in frustration, throwing your phone to god-knows-where.

You were livid.

Because of course, a pretty girl (you assume) will come running into his arms the moment you're out of the picture (and babe, girls still swarm him even if you’re in the picture—who are we kidding).

And because you’re kinda fucking crazy and maaaybe a stalker at birth, you checked the location of where the call was connected. Turns out it came from freaking Spain. That fucker was on vacation, in Spain, with a pretty girl (again, you assumed). Forgetting the fact that there was background noise—which seemed eerily familiar with multiple gunshots and a crash, you really contemplated blocking him.

Like, okay, your thingy wasn’t official-official, but c’mon! You fucked, eat together, cuddle while watching sad-sappy dramas you know he hates, but sucks it up because you like it! Hell, he wipes your tears off, is your unpaid therapist, and ties your shoes for you! Both of you had a written agreement that signifies you, and he won’t be hooking up with anyone other than yourselves.

Have you, perhaps, misjudged the situation again?!

You spent five hours retrieving your phone from underneath the cabinet just to send a ‘we’re done, enjoy your next pretty lady’ text. You don’t even know how it got there, and you refuse to talk about how you got it out.

Leon responded with: ‘Hey, pretty lady. I miss your pretty smile. Quit being pissy, yeah? Dinner on me?’ after a week of deadbeat silence.

You’d rather be caught dead wearing a potato sack than admit you sent a ‘when’ text back.

Waiting for a month to pass before you hit send, of course. You weren’t that desperate.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

This time was on Valentine's Day.

Yeah, real sappy.

In each corner you take, it looked like red and pink hearts were thrown up on the streets. And everywhere you looked, all you saw were couples eating each other’s faces off. It’s disgusting, really. Hated it, actually. Totally not thinking of Leon bringing you flowers and letting you decorate him with lipstick and bite marks. Totally.

So you clocked in at work.

As a barista who’s in love with her job, one of your favorite things to do is those rare specials. As a person who’s emotionally constipated and bitter, you hated doing hearts this very specific day.

It wasn’t until you saw a very familiar blond from across the street that you stopped and stared for a few moments. Now, it wasn’t unusual for him to wander around where you worked, but what’s unusual is the fact that he’s talking to a lady with a small, infuriating smile on his face. You saw him—very carefully—receiving a bouquet from her, treating it just as delicately. You saw the lady nudge him, and he chuckled in response before walking away.

Your eye twitched as your smile turned into a grimace, almost scaring the customer who had been trying to get your attention to order.

Your shift ended with you making wonky hearts and fake smiles throughout.

While you were exiting, you saw a familiar car parked along the pavement, and a familiar face half-asleep in the driver's seat. He was cute. That, you’ll admit. You sneakily snapped a photo, forgetting the very cute fact that your flash was on. That woke Leon up, clumsily unlocking the door and stumbling out.

“Nice nap?” you teased, a smile easily making its way to your face.

“Yeah, waiting for you, actually.” He tried to be smooth. He really did. But the slight tremor in his voice revealed that he was nervous. He faked a cough, choosing instead to open his backseat—beckoning you to come closer.

And when you did, the scene almost made your eyes tear up.

Because in his backseat was a huge fox stuffed toy holding a ‘will you let me be your valentine?’ sign propped with a very familiar arrangement of your favorite flowers, snacks, chocolates, and the like.

“So… will you?” whispered Leon from behind you. You turned around and, god, he was so close you practically felt his breath fan your flushed face. You snaked your arms around his neck, pulling him to your height, and stared at his twinkling baby blues with nothing but adoration.

Then, you leaned to close the distance.

Your lips moved in sync, falling into a dance both of you unknowingly memorized as your glassy eyes fluttered shut. You felt him nip your bottom lip, making it part. His warm tongue explored your mouth, as if it were the first time he had the honor of doing so. Your tongues locked, meeting halfway. You felt him suck, swallowing your noises as he backed you to his car.

His hands wander to your waist, pulling you even closer. And the worst part? He was gentle. He was gentle all throughout. As if what you had were real—labels be damned. You didn’t even remember when you parted, just the warmth of his calloused hand that caressed your cheek with hearts in his eyes and a soft smile on his lips. He looked ethereal, with his blown-out pupils and golden hair that swayed with the wind.

“Does that answer your question, Kennedy?” You asked, just as softly, afraid of dampening the surreal mood.

He laughed softly, and god, it was beautiful. You don’t even think there was an ounce of ugliness in that man. Sure, he has his broody act, but god, it just makes him all the more endearing.

“I got you flowers.” Leon started, brushing your hair behind your ear, which felt out of place. “From across the café. You’ve mentioned how much you loved how they arranged their bouquets. Jesus, the lady recognized me from buying there all the time.” He finished with a breathless—shy—laugh, a hint of red slowly blooming through his face.

“Lee, you didn’t have to.” You drawled, your voice fading into a whisper. “Just your presence is enough.”

“I want to. Your smile makes it worth it,” he stated with enough conviction that made your heart bubble with love. Utterly devastating love. All for him. All for the mysterious man you walked up to in the bar that had too much love to give with no one to give it to.

“God, you're sappy.” You shook your head, turning away from him to hide your rapidly blooming cheeks.

“You love it.” Leon chuckled, turning your head back.

“Debatable.”

“What a pretty, pissy girlfriend you are.” He grinned, purposely letting the word linger.

Now that made you freeze, the gears of your head refusing to turn. “Girlfriend..?”

And that made Leon confused, slightly stepping back to give you space, but his hands were still firmly planted around you. “Of course, girlfriend. You don’t think I’ll do this to someone I’m not exclusive to, right?”

“Huh? Since when?!” You exclaimed, gripping the two openings of his jacket.

“Baby, I literally take you out on dates—we’re dating. The fuck you mean ‘when’??” He looked at you, incredulously—as if you were the one making zero sense.

“I—wha—you never asked?!” You tugged, shaking him back and forth.

“We talked about being exclusive!”

“Yeah—exclusively fucking!”

“We literally had thee talk.” He deadpanned, amusement lingering in his eyes.

“That’s not how it works??!”

“Wait, so—the whole time—you don’t think I’m fucking yours?” The bastard had the audacity to laugh at you, making your blood flare up.

“Fuck—yes??”

“Baby, that’s insane. Are you okay?”

“I—you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“So much.” That earned him multiple smacks on the head and a shit ton of kisses that peppered all over his face right after.

Yeah, turns out, in the very deep and concerning mind of Leon S. Kennedy, the two of you were in a very much real, loving, and committed relationship. You just didn’t know it yet.

He thinks it started the very first time you slept together.

He knew you as the pretty lady who works in a cozy café downtown. The cute barista who serves sweet drinks with a matching sweet smile. He was with Claire that time, grabbing a long-overdue lunch. It was the closest café in the vicinity, and like the gentleman that he is, he offered to order and pay for her as well.

He caught a glimpse of you while he was ordering.

And damn, it felt like Cupid’s arrow went straight to his heart and hit the bullseye.

Because from then on, he vowed to visit—at least maybe once a month. Y’know, just to… observe—order, drinks and pastries are good. Totally. Totally not because he was too much of a pussy to talk to you. For sure.

That’s also the reason why he felt as if Cupid came for round 2 when he saw you at the bar.

You were literally talking to him—giving him attention—and he didn’t even notice that it was you, of all people. It’s the whiskey, he swears, that made him undeniably bold. On any normal day, he wouldn’t have the courage to talk to you—more or less, flirt with you! He’s a dangerous man living a dangerous life and working a dangerous job, for godssake! You could be in danger, and fuck, he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you.

But as hours passed by, he just couldn’t help but indulge in a dangerous drug named you. The way your voice lifts when you talk about something that interests you, the way you unconsciously scrunch your nose when you catch a whiff of something strong, and Christ, the way you sweep your hair back so you can see clearly. It irks him. The way you do shit to him, and you. don’t. even. notice.

He didn’t even know what happened. One second, he’s learning about you in the bar, and the next, you’re in his sheets—reeling from satisfaction: bathing in the afterglow. Leon couldn’t let you go, even if he tried. You got him madly hooked. And he’s right where he wants to be. With you wrapped in his arms. With you tracing his scars, kissing him lovingly as if he deserved only the best in this godforsaken world.

“Hi.” He nuzzled into your soft, inviting palm.

“You’re awake? Sorry, I woke you up.” You were so damn warm. Your voice, a little gruff from sleep, makes his blood run in a different direction.

“It’s fine, knew you couldn’t resist me. Not a bad way to wake up.” He teased, disguising his real, incoherent thoughts.

“Hush, you look like a bad decision.”

“One you’re willing to indulge in, yeah?”

“Debatable.”

He laughed, pecking the tip of your nose and pulling you even closer—his head now resting on the top of yours, wishing for the moment to last forever.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Leon was with Sherry this time, on one of his off days. He wanted to visit his kid— checked to see if everything was alright.

“Leon? Who was that?” Sherry asked, a bit curious. For her, it was weird seeing Leon look lovingly at his phone. It was weird seeing him on his phone in general, more so that he’s smiling as if someone hung the moon for him. As strange as it is, she’s just glad that someone is making Leon act like an otter seeing the water for the very first time.

“My girlfriend. She’s probably bored.” He replied, a small smile involuntarily appearing on his face. He can’t help it; that’s just your effect on him.

“You have a girlfriend? Who? Since when??” She almost squealed, excitement flickering in her bright eyes.

“I know. Shocker, right?”

He picked up the call, expecting a barrage of ‘I miss you, come over?’ or some rant about your ass netflix shows you couldn’t help but watch, or maybe even that annoying regular that picks up fights with literally anyone.

What he didn’t expect was an abrupt breakup call.

“… that was awkward,” Sherry faked a cough. “Are you… okay, though?” She winced, voice gradually becoming more of a whisper.

After a few beats of silence.

“…Yeah, she just—does that—I’m okay. Yup… I’ll just—… I’ll see you later, kid?”

He doesn’t know why or what compelled you to break up with him over a damn twenty-three-second phone call, but he sure as hell won’t be losing the absolute love of his life over some fucking boredom.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Spain was crazy. Insane—criminal, actually.

His mission was to save the President’s daughter, Ashley Graham. Jesus, he’s glad she’s already by his side—he can’t fucking wait for the mission to be over.

The absurd call happened when he was literally fighting for his life. His phone might’ve fallen during whatever the fuck he was doing to survive (he’s kinda reckless, okay—but valid), because all he saw was Ashley picking it up and talking to someone before quickly handing it back to him.

“Someone called you. I guess they were worried.”

“…There’s a reception here..?” He was more confused because how the fuck did a normal call connect easily when the comms with Hunnigan were choppy?

It wasn’t until he felt a chill run down his back that he asked the dreaded, “Who was it?”

“Ah, I didn’t check. But it sounds like a girl—wait, do you have a girlfriend?” Ashley asked, a bit incredulously—and he couldn’t stop the involuntary ‘shit’ that fell out of his mouth.

Oh. Oh fuck. He’s fucked.

Because of course, your call would connect; that’s just your effect.

If you knew he was basically kidnapped, would he be forgiven? Who was he kidding, he knew he wouldn’t be telling you any of this when he got home. Not because it’s confidential as fuck, but because he can’t bring himself to tell you all the ugly parts of his job. He can’t bring you down with him—and if that meant forever keeping you in the dark with the horror he regularly goes through? Then so be it.

He’d rather wait for a month than explain—recall—he almost got killed for the umpteenth amount of time in Spain, and not experience the getaway you thought he had. He’d rather whisper sweet nothings in your ear and have you in his arms than tell the tale that he got infected by a freaking parasite that ought to make him a mindless subordinate.

He’d rather take you to a fancy dinner and be enamored by you once again, grovel at your feet, and give you a good time than to admit that he was forcefully employed by the government to keep his mouth shut about the horrors of bioweapons.

Yeah, he’d rather take the burn of your anger than have you worry if he’ll live the next time he disappears again.

He might be selfish, but Jesus, what can he do if you unknowingly became his only salvation?

If becoming official meant going to court to pledge your undying devotion? Then so be it. Leon’s already got a beautiful ring in mind.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　　　.   　　˚　✭　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　✭　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦

hey hey hey!! it's been a while, hasn't it? i'm afraid leon ass kennedy got me in a cage rn fighting for my life, apparently getting tagged-team w chris bulkfield as we speak. this was my third wip for this man n it's the first one to be published. i'm actually shocked bcuz this is like the longest anything i've ever fucking written, and it's also, BY FAR, the most suggestive one i've ever published. my mans been rotting my mind for a month now and gosh, i literally can't get out. hope you enjoyed reading this one as much as i've enjoyed writing it! also btw, no ai was used in this self-indulgent fic, i'm just an em dash warrior. as always, rbs are appreciated lmao ily

You try, at first. Try to lean closer to him, to get his attention, “accidentally” brushing your knee against his.

“Hey,” you murmur, soft enough that only he should hear.

He hums in acknowledgment, but he doesn’t look at you.

“I thought this was supposed to be just us tonight.” You said softly.

“I know, just give me 5 minutes,” he says, distracted.

Yeah, 5 minutes my ass.

10 minutes pass, and then some more. You sit there, half listening to a conversation you’re not part of, watching him engage with them in a way he hasn’t with you in days. He wasn’t even talking, but he was paying attention.

That hurt more.

You swallow hard, staring at your drink before chugging it to avoid tearing up.

So he can do it, you think.

He just won’t do it with me.

You set your glass down a little harder than you mean to, but he still doesn’t notice.

“Rough night?” A man’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

You almost ignored him, almost.

Then you look at Leon again, still not looking at you.

Fuck it.

You just want the ache in your chest to subside even a little bit.

“You have no idea.” You laugh softly.

“Want some better company?”

You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t.

“Depends, are you going to buy me a drink?” You wink at the man.

And just like that, you turn away from Leon to give the man your full attention. For a moment you completely forget about the pain and enjoy a conversation with someone who seems interested in you, and what you had to say.

“You’ve got a nice laugh,” the man says suddenly, leaning closer.

You tilt your head, playing into it just a little.

“Do I, now?” You gave him a coy smile.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Feels wasted with that man.”

Leon’s glass hits the counter a little harder than necessary.  You don’t look at him right away, pretending to ignore his presence. To make him suffer just a little bit.

But the feeling of a strong chest touching your uncovered back is really hard to ignore.

The stranger straightens slightly. Leon doesn’t even look at him, his eyes are solely on you.

“I think that’s enough, sweetheart.” He says with a monotone tone, but you immediately notice how his jaw clenches by just the way he is talking. 

The man backs off with a quiet apology, disappearing into the crowd without a second glance.

“What’s wrong?” You say innocently, avoiding his face. 

Your heart beating fast against your chest, thrilled.

You don’t know if it is because you had been discovered flirting with another man, or if it is because you had Leon’s attention all to yourself.  His coworkers have long forgotten, at last.

“Look at me.” He says calmly, and so you turn fully towards him. 

Good God, he looks even worse up close. He was pissed. Furious, even.

“What?” You play innocent. You are having so much fun.

“You tell me. What the fuck was that?” 

You shrug at him, “I was just talking.”

“Didn’t look like that.”

You let out a small, humorless laugh as you roll your eyes.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, babe. Was I interrupting your very important work conversation?”

His jaw tightens even more, and you’re suddenly afraid he was going to break his jawbone.

“That’s not an excuse for-”

“No it’s not, but after waiting 20 minutes for my boyfriend to finally notice I’ve been busy with some other man really does sound like a pretty shitty date. Don’t you think, babe?”

He is dumbfounded. The patient, understanding girlfriend he’s used to is nowhere to be found. She’s disappeared somewhere between the first sip and the fourth tall glass of alcohol now sitting empty in front of her.

“I get it,” you say, quieter now. “I know how this relationship goes. You shut down and push me away, and I’m supposed to just wait until you decide to come back to me. I don’t mind waiting for you, truly, you’re worth it. But you promised tonight was about me. I miss you, you know. You're always away, and even when you’re here with me you feel so far away.” Your pretty eyes filled with tears, threatening to fall any moment now.

Leon looks pretty embarrassed, you don’t know if it’s because his you (girlfriend) was having a meltdown in front of his coworkers or if it’s because of what you just told him and he feels like a shitty boyfriend.

“But I’m right here,” you continue, voice cracking just slightly. “I did my stupid make up, and put on a really cute dress I bought just for you to take it off and-”

You stop, shaking your head.

“I just really wanted you to notice me. Just me, at least tonight.”

That does it for him. Something in him breaks, and his shoulders drop just a fraction. His gaze softens, the anger in it twisting into something almost pained.

“You think I don't notice you?” he says quietly.

You laugh again, softer this time. 

“Feels like it, and if you do you are doing a pretty shitty job at showing it.”

He steps closer, “I noticed,” he says. “The second he walked up to you.”

Your breath catches. His pale blue eyes don’t leave yours, and for a moment you think they seem darker.

“And I noticed you letting him.”

“Maybe I wanted you to,” you admit. “I didn’t know how else to get through to you.”

Your heart breaks a little when his hand lifts slightly, like he’s going to reach for you but ultimately decides to drop it.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says, voice low. “Not with me.”

You meet his gaze without blinking. The alcohol was giving you courage. 

“Then stop making me feel like I have to.” 

“I’m trying to” he grabs you by your hips just to gently push you towards his chest. Firm but careful, like he’s grounding himself as much as you.

“I saw everything,” he confessed. “The way you leaned into him. The way you let him touch you.”

Your breath catches, so he really was watching you closely.

“You don’t get to-” you start, but he cuts in.

“Don’t get to what? Don’t get to react?”

He leans down slightly, voice dropping even lower, and your pulse jumps.

“You wanted my attention,” he says. “You got it.”

You savor Leon’s possessiveness, pressing your tights together to alleviate the pressure that was forming in between your legs. 

Was it the alcohol that was making him be this open about his emotions, or was it you almost bawling your eyes out that pushed him to be honest with his feelings?

“I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart,” he breathes near your ear, the strong scent of whiskey lingering on his words.

“I don’t know if you’re going to be able to live up to your words.” You say, rolling your eyes. “I don’t believe you anymore.”

Leon doesn’t let your drunken tantrum discourage him, he was going to make you forgive him one way or another.

“Did I tell you how nice your ass look with that dress?” 

You open your mouth, scandalized.

“Let’s get out of here.” He grabs your hand and swiftly pushes you to the exit door.

You shouldn’t look, but you do anyway. A quick glance over Leon’s shoulder, just enough to find the stranger again in the crowd.

Already looking at you. The wink he gives you is easy like he knows exactly what he stirred up.

He lifts his glass slightly in your direction.

A silent toast.

You hesitate for half a second, but you mouth a silent, thank you.

“You’re pushing your luck, sweetheart.”

“‘Yeah? What are you going to do about it?” You look at him defiantly. 

“I’m going to fuck the bratiness out of you, that’s what I’m going to do.”

You stared at him with practically hearts in your eyes.

“Threat or promise?” you say humming happily.

Leon was absolutely done with your shit by now. His hand tightens around yours as he pulls you out of the bar and toward the car. The cool night air hits, but it doesn’t do anything to cut through the tension coiled tight between you.

You barely have time to catch your breath before he opens the passenger door.

He all but crowds you in. One hand braced against the top of the car, the other still at your waist, guiding you (more like pressing you) back just enough that you have nowhere to go but into the seat.

“If the cops stop me for drinking and driving,” he mutters, voice low and edged, “I’m telling them it’s because my girl loves to rile me up.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my love.” You smile at him sweetly.

Too sweet. And completely insincere.

Leon lets out a quiet, humorless breath through his nose as he shuts your door. He drives fast, with tension on his shoulders, and he has a tight grip on the wheel.

By the time he pulls into his place, your heart is already beating too fast. 

Leon exhales deeply, like he’s trying to get a handle on himself before he turns to you.

“Out”

You raise a brow, still playing that dangerous game.

“Bossy.”

He leans in towards you, “You’ve been pushing me all night,” he murmurs,“And you’re still doing it.”

“Maybe I like seeing how far I can go.” You tilt your chin up.

“Out.” He says again but with a deeper tone.

You obliged this time.

The moment you move, his hand closes around yours in an unyielding grip. His other hand finds the small of your back, guiding you forward with a subtle pressure that sends a flicker of awareness through you.

The elevator doors slide open with a soft chime. He guides you inside with that same steady pressure at your back. The doors glide shut behind you, sealing the two of you into a quiet space. The numbers above the door tick upward, one floor, then another. Each second stretches, thick with something unspoken.

You can feel his gaze before you meet it. When you finally look up, he’s already watching you.

The haze of anger and alcohol clouded your mind before but now it had lifted just enough for you to really see him.

Your gaze lingered, letting yourself take him in instead of fighting it. His favorite leather jacket sat perfectly on his shoulders, underneath it, a navy blue shirt made his eyes stand out, worn-in jeans and those boots you’d seen a hundred times before. You forgot why you were upset at all for a moment. He looked good. Too good.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, the sound cutting cleanly through the quiet in your head.

“I’m going to open the door, I want you to go to the room and take off your clothes. And you better hurry up before I come help you.” The threat makes a syrupy mess on your panties.

You should have expected this. The few times you’d fought (rare as they were) he always turned like this. He needed closeness, something steady to hold onto, and it came out in the way he took control. Bossing you around was the only way he knew how to keep himself grounded.

Maybe that’s how he is used to calming himself down during missions, bossing other people around, you thought to yourself.

You blink at him blankly for a second, but wait for him to open the back door and to get in.

Rushing to his room, you hurry up and take off your shoes and the little back dress you bought just for him. 

Rather than waiting in bed as you normally would, you stand with your back against the wall, waiting for him. You weren’t done playing, and you were far from done with being mad at him.

Desire pools in the low of your stomach the moment the door opens, your breath catching as your boyfriend leans into the doorway, you notice he’s no longer wearing his leather jacket or his boots, only left with his jeans and a shirt that hugs every muscle of his chest, hot. 

His eyes find you instantly taking in every detail with deliberate care. Approval written all over his face when he sees that you’re wearing his favorite lingerie set.

Leon moves slowly, making his way towards you. Until he’s standing tall against you, chests pressing together.

His gaze drops to your lips before he can stop himself, your tongue peeking out to lick your bottom lip before he takes it on his own. His lips press against yours with haste, as if he’d lose his chance if he waited any longer. The kiss is desperate and messy with a feeling of aggressiveness to it. 

Leon’s hands find your hips suddenly, gripping them on. And moan into the kiss as you feel his already hard member press into your stomach.

You bit his bottom lip in a playful manner while your fingers played with his dirty blonde hair, lightly yanking at the strands just to pull his head away from you, and to your surprise he left out a soft moan. You opened your eyes a little just to see him smirking at you, his eyes looking at you with a hungry gaze.

The familiar touch of your skin against his, the comfort of your natural scent and the desire he had been bottling up for not being able to take your body in a long time. He felt like he was overdosing on you right now, being apart from you was beyond painful for him, even if he was too proud to say it out loud to you. 

Leon tries to close the distance again, his whiskey breath warm against your hot skin, his eyes searching yours with that familiar desire that you were craving so much. 

But you slip out of reach, pressing a hand lightly against his chest and pushing him back with a teasing smile.

“No,” you said, shaking your head, your voice soft. “I don’t think you deserve to have fun tonight.”

He let out a quiet laugh, more surprised than discouraged.

“Should I beg for forgiveness?” he asked, his tone edged with teasing rather than sincerity. “Or would it be better if I proved just how sorry I am instead?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, when he’s already reaching for your lace bra feeling the weight of your tits on his hands, easily finding your nipples and playing with them.

“Gorgeous tits, sweetheart.” He says looking at you, your face too flushed and distorted with pleasure to notice his loving gaze.

In utter bliss, you release something in between a moan and whine when he finally frees them from your lacy bra. The gentleness of the moment as Leon uses his hands to play with your nipples feels too intimate and the texture of his calloused hands against your soft flesh feels sublime.

A soft little breath escapes you when the wet touch as his lips close around one of your tits as a warm exhale that sounds like moan sounds at the back of his throat, while his other hand finds your other nipple lightly pinching it in between his fingers. 

That sends a ripple through your core.

“Leon,” you murmur, and his eyes lift to yours. “I want your mouth.” If Leon was surprised by your requests he didn’t show it.

Alcohol loosened your self control, your inhibitions long forgotten. Only thoughts of lust and desire for your man’s touch are left in your mind.

Protests leave your mouth when he stops his caresses but are quickly shuttered when you feel his lips lowering. Disappearing from your view, gentle kisses tickling at your stomach. Your worries fade as you imagine the feeling of his mouth in your pussy. 

His hands drifting down your form as he goes down to his knees, his face finally meeting your lacy panties. 

“Do you want my mouth?” He asks, close enough to your core that you feel his breath on it. 

“Please,” you almost whined.

“After the shit you pulled at the bar?” He asks again, but this time with a cynical tone. His big hands curl around the plushness of your ass, gently massaging it.

His mouth presses against your inner thigh, dangerously close to the line of your panties but not close enough to feel his mouth on your center. He nuzzles you, breathing growing heavier as he drinks in your raw addictive scent.

“I need you, baby. It’s been so long.” You begged in a wanton tone.

You gasp in surprise as he hikes your knee over his shoulder, giving himself greater access to your clothed pussy as your leg dangles down his back. 

Leon didn’t even bother to pull down your panties, he simply moved them to the side, roughly tugging your hips against his face, finally savoring the taste of your arousal. 

The first touch of his mouth to your pussy has you both jolting softly, both moaning from pleasure.nHe quickly separates the meaty lips with his tongue, working up and down, lapping up your slickness. 

“So fucking wet, baby. Tastes so fucking good. ” He said against your pussy, and you almost cried from frustration.

“Don’s stop, please,” your hazy gaze looking down at him. The sight of it is hot.

One of your hands grips painfully tight in his hair while the other grips weakly at his shoulder to keep your balance as you grind your pussy against his mouth. Your walls clench down around nothing from the erotic scene of having him eating you out on his knees, he was basically making out with your pussy. Desperate to taste you, to make you feel good.

You wanted him to look up just for a moment, to see him drifting lost in the haze of his arousal.

You suddenly think of the moments when his absence lingers most in the small, quiet moments of the night. When you find yourself drawn to where he should be, resting your face against his pillow  to the smell of him as a hand slips between your legs where you’ve grown slick from a dream of him. Needing him, and his mouth, and his cock. When he’s across the country hundreds of miles away from you.

He had you arching your back, desperate for release. Grinding your hips onto his handsome face as he sucked on your clit. Quickly adding a finger to your entrance when he feels you are close, curling his finger just how he knows you like it. 

You moan his name as you orgasm, pulling away from his face as much as you can. Too sensitive.

But Leon doesn’t care, he grabs you by the hips again forcing you down to his mouth again, quickly lapping all of your juices until the very last drop as you whimper too high from your orgasm to do anything about it. 

You feel him stand up, and gently grab you by the neck to press his lips against you in a slow kiss that has you tasting your juices and you moan at the lustful taste, grabbing onto whatever you can: his strong biceps, his abs, the bulge inside his unbuckled jeans.

Leon gently pushes your hand away walking you to the bed, instead.

“My turn,” he says with a hoarse voice, looking at you with burning desire. Not even bothering to clean up your mess from his face.

You feel like you’re floating as he guides you to the bed, lightly pushing you onto your belly.

You rub your hot flushed face against the cold sheets below your cheek, too hot.

Your boyfriend lifts your hips up, cursing to himself when he pulls down your panties, completely exposing your swollen pussy to him. 

“I’m going to ruin any other man for you, baby. No other bastard will get to see you like this, I'll be damned if I let that happen.” 

Heat slices through you when you feel the pressure of the head of his cock against your pussy, as he shifts closer, his hands on your hips massaging your ass cheeks. 

“Don’t want anyone but you.” You said with a needy whisper.

The bed dips beneath the weight of his knees, and he groans when he fucks himself into you with a slow thrust, giving you time to adjust yourself to his size.

The air is forced from your lungs as his pace he picks up is harsh, fast, his cock thrusting inside of you roughly. You breathe his name over and over, scrambling against the bedding, as pleasure spikes up.

“I was going crazy,” Leon said in a breathy tone as he kept rutting himself into you “Seeing you flirt with that man, when your man was right there.”

You clenched against his cock, his possessive tone was doing something to you.

“You like that, baby? Making me jealous?” His breathing is harsh and ragged as his orgasm grows near.

Obscene sounds as his cock pushes your entrance over and over again, his belt slapping the plush of your thighs with every thrust.

Leon’s grip on your hips with a crushing grip, and when he angles you up a little more to drive his cock into that spot that you love. You cry out in pleasure , and you hear him moan your name in a tone that tells you he’s close too.

You look at him turning your cheek to the side too fucked up to answer him. He presses one hand to the small of your back to hold you still, while his other hand moves under your body where his hips meet yours to rub at your clit again, sending you over the edge.

Your pussy pulses frantically around his thick cock. Milking him for your pleasure as your eyes roll back in your head. 

You hear him whimper when you clench your pussy around his sensitive cock from your orgasm spams, letting all the juices and cum make a mess of your thighs.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” breathy whispers leave his mouth. “So good.”

You turn around slowly, too drunk from pleasure and the alcohol. 

“I love you… I love you so much.” Your voice trembles as tears slip down your cheeks.

He’s speechless as he watches you look at him with a love in your eyes that he knew he didn’t deserve.

“I love you more,” he finally whispers, pulling you into his arms and holding you like he never wants to let go. 

You press your face into his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt, your hands clutching him just as tightly. For a moment, neither of you speaks, just breathing each other in, coming down from your highs.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs softly against your hair. 

“I’ll forgive you if you take a shower with me.” You smile sweetly, and this time is sincere.

𝒟𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓈𝓀𝑒𝓎 𝒯𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓂𝑒, 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹?

The weather lately had been horrible. Constant rain, but not yet enough to give any weather warnings. You hated the rain when it got bad, and because your favorite neighbor was aware of that fact, he took advantage of it to be around you more lately.

Tonight, thunder had been louder than the last three nights, rain heavier, so heavy it sounded like hail. You busied yourself, hoping to fight off your anxiety as you cooked and cleaned and even tried crafting as a distraction. You considered asking a friend for company, but your unspoken rule was as long as the power was on, you were okay.

The light flickered. You felt an impending sense of doom, a whine leaving your lips. You scrambled to grab your phone, looking through your contacts. Who would be willing to drive to you? Or come at all?! In this weather, no one, is what you thought. Not even your closest neighbor.

Coincidentally, your neighbor, Leon, called you as soon as the power went out. You immediately answered. "Hello?" Leon could hear the uncertainty, and he frowned.

"Hey, sweets," he started, his voice low and soothing. "Power out at yours, too?"

"Mhmm." You hummed. Leon could hear you scrambling to find any way to light up the house, at least the living room.

"I'll be over in a second, yeah? I'll bring candles and some playing cards. How about we play some games? Keep your pretty head occupied." You could hear his own shuffling as you lit a small candle, settling into your couch and curling up.

"That'd be really nice. Thank you so much, Mr. Kennedy." You spoke, voice as sweet as ever, despite all your stresses in the moment.

"I've told you to call me Leon, sweets." He chuckled. "Wanna stay on the phone til I'm outside?" He asked.

"No, no, I can handle myself while I wait. I'll unlock the door for you."

"Good idea. Don't trip and fall."

"I'll see you in a minute." You giggled at his warning, and he mused a sweet goodbye, the phone line beeping as you cut it off and went to unlocked the door, rushing back to the couch to curl up with your fuzzy blankets.

Five minutes later, Leon was rushing through your front door, soaked and shivering from the cold. He looked like a wet dog. You scrambled to meet him halfway after retrieving a hand towel from the kitchen to dry his hair.

"Gosh, if I had known you wouldn't bring an umbrella, I would've told you to stay home." You frowned, reaching up to ruffle his hair with the towel, droplets soaking into the thick fabric.

"I don't mind a little rain if it means I get some company during a storm." He hummed, a soft rumble from his chest as he took the small towel and set it aside. "Go get comfy and light these, yeah?" He said, handing over a small bag of candles and a lighter. "I would've brought my flashlight, but I forgot to change the damn batteries, and I couldn't find the stupid things in the dark." He chuckled apologetically, stepping back.

Leon finished drying himself off by the door, kicking his shoes off and huffing softly. You lit the candles, settling a few in the kitchen, one big one in the bathroom down the hall, and the rest around the living room to keep it as welcoming and warm as possible to avoid anxiety spikes any more.

"Thank you for coming. I hate storms like this." You spoke quietly, like it felt wrong to speak normally in the dark.

"Anything, anytime, sweets. I know you get anxious with the weather, and the power going out only makes it worse." He finally padded over the meet you at the couch, where you'd already been shuffling the cards on the coffee table.

"I know you know, I just want to make sure you know I appreciate it." You said, looking up at him as he shifted closer and leaned forward, legs spread as his elbow rested on his knees.

"So, what do you wanna play? Duo or solo game?" He asked, watching you bring the cards together and tap the bottom on the table, tapping the back of the card pile.

"Mmh, let's play. I don't want you just sitting here while I play solitaire." You snickered, thinking of how he'd done that the first time he brought over his deck. He liked card games, you learned that quickly.

Over half an hour, you two played a few games, your anxiety easing over the time. You beat him quite a few times, and he definitely let you win the last couple of times. Leon was scooted right at your side, knee brushing yours. Neither of you retracted, tensed, or got bashful like you usually would if you brushed too close. Leon found it cute, always sought more of those soft blushes, giggles, and sometimes long, warm glances if you let yourself stare.

Soon, you realized the preserved heat was no longer clinging around you, so Leon could see you shivering as you shuffled the cards, your hands shaking. He reached out to take the cards. "I'll shuffle. Warm your hands up, yeah?" He set the cards down for a moment, reaching behind you to properly bundle you up with the comforter he had retrieved from your bedroom earlier in the game spree. The excess fabric laid lazily over his lap, as he wasn't as cold, given how warm he constantly was. You were often cold, and even when it was approaching freezing temperatures, he'd often be perfectly fine to just swear one extra layer.

"I'm fine, Leon." You shook your head, tugging the blanket closer. "It's just a little chilly." You looked up, watching him shuffle and deal the cards. "Can we stop for a little? My hands are a little too cold.." you murmured.

He didn't hesitate to agree, leaning back on the couch. "Yeah. Here, gimme your hands." He said, holding his palms out.

"I don't need—" Your cheeks flushed faintly under the candlelight.

"Just gimme your hands, sweets." He insisted, fingers curling in a 'come here' motion.

You obliged, offering your hands. He enclosed his palms around your fingers, his warmth sinking into your skin. Your body ran cold with goosebumps but relaxed within a few moments. It was quiet as he pressed your hands together and engulfed them with his own.

"Is that better?" He hummed quietly.

"Mhmm." You nodded.

"Good. C'mere." Leon gestured you closer. You hesitated.

"I'm not that cold. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." You looked away.

"I'm offering my warmth. If you don't want to, it's okay, obviously." He chuckled, simply accepting that he was able to warm your hands at least. You thought, body already warming at the closeness and his low, smooth tone, his hands so rough yet gentle and kind against yours.

Finally, you shifted and pressed into his side, bringing your legs to lay over his lap beneath the blanket. "This okay?" You asked, looking up at him as your cheek pressed to his chest.

"Yeah, sweets. You comfy?" He asked softly, arm wrapping around you after he tugged the blanket back up around you, ensuring it covered your feet mostly, knowing damn well they were ice cold.

"Mhmm." You nodded again. Leon always found it adorable how you'd just nod and hum, pretty eyes blinking up at him, often a faint smile accompanying.

"Good." He mused, one hand slipping over the blanket to tug you closer by the underside of your thigh, pressing your side in closer so your head could rest in the crook of his neck.

Your head turned to press into where his neck and shoulder met, and he let out a slow exhale as he felt your warm breath against him. It took a minute, given the chill settled deep in your body, but as you warmed up, it became easier to fully relax against him, and Leon noticed how your muscles would ease in small bits. It started with your neck fully relaxing into him, your eyes falling shut. Then your thighs eased, which he felt from over the blanket as he kept his large palm pressing gently over under your thigh to keep you close. Finally, your body was fully limp, completely surrendered to his warmth.

You two sat like that for fifteen minutes before you were interrupted by thunder. It had stopped for a while, but when it bellowed from the sky, your ease was interrupted, given how it sounded almost violent.

"Jesus fucking Christ." You hissed, body tense all over again as you rubbed your eyes and groaned. He laughed faintly.

"It's fine. It's just thunder." He tugged you back in, hand rubbing gently over you hip as he turned more to face you, looking down at you.

"I know. I know. It just startles me when it's quiet for so long, and then the Gods decide to make me almost piss myself." You huffed, and Leon had to stifle a laugh at how bluntly you expressed your jumpy reactions.

"Do you want me to go check the power? See if I can get it to come back on any sooner?" He asked. "Sometimes it'll let you flick the switch earlier than the power returns on its own." He explained, pulling back as his hands fell to your hip and thigh, thumbs soothing gently over the blanket.

"Bring this candle with you. It's the only one with a proper holder." You said, handing him a yellow candlestick with a proper holder.

"I'll be back." He leaned in for a moment, an automatic action that he barely stopped in time before his eyes widened slightly, realizing he'd gotten too comfortable in such a domestic setting. He pulled back, accepting the candlestick and shuffling off toward the garage entrance inside, finding his way to the fuse box.

"Any luck?" You called out, listening to the click of switches. You frowned.

"No luck, sweets. Looks like a powerline might be out this time, not just a regular blackout." He called back as he sighed and returned, closing the garage door behind him. "It might not come back on tonight." He explained, settling back into the couch.

"Fuck, seriously? All night?" You frowned deeper, leaning back into the arm of the couch, curling up with your blanket.

"I can stay if you want. I don't have work tomorrow." He said, arm stretching over the back of the couch as his legs spread automatically, a position that almost always made your mind go to places that you felt shameful about.

"I don't want to keep you holed up here just because I'm scared of the dark at my grown age." You sighed. "You brought me candles, I'll be fine. You can go home." You said, shaking your head.

"Do you want company?" He asked, ignoring your attempts at pushing him away.

"Well, yeah, but if it's all night, I'm fine. I don't want you losing sleep—"

"Do you want company?" He asked again, firm this time.

"I-i do," you finally nodded.

"Are you okay if I stay?" He pressed further, gentler.

"But you need—"

"Listen. I'm not asking about me. I'm asking about you. What you need from me." He scooted closer, finding your hands.

"Leon, I don't need to be pampered like this. I'm an adult." Your cheeks flushed at how well he knew your needs in times like this, embarrassingly touched by his insistence to help you.

"And it doesn't matter how old you are, we all need things. I have my own needs you'd probably laugh at." He admitted.

"Yeah? Like what?" You scoffed.

"When I can't sleep, and I'm worried I'll do something stupid after a mission, I have a friend I'll call. If he's out of town, he'll let me sit on the phone until I feel better. He even stayed on the phone til I woke up one time. And, because I sleep alone, and I miss the feeling of being with someone, I have two long body pillows for both sides of me when I need a physical comfort."

"Really?" You hesitated, blinking up at him. "You? The big macho man neighbor that everyone asks for help?"

"Yes. The old handyman of the block needs a little help sometimes, too."

"You're not that old." You snickered.

"You still call me Mr. Kennedy." He raised a brow.

"Because it's polite!" You insisted, laughing quietly.

"You still haven't answered. Do you want me to stay? Or will it make you uncomfortable?" He asked, softer, less firm than before.

"If you really, really don't mind.." You trailed off, looking to the side.

"I don't mind at all. It's better to have some good company. Bonus points that it's such pretty company." He grinned, reaching out to poke at your side.

You giggled, swatting at his hand. "Flattery will get you nowhere." Your cheeks flushed.

"Aw, but you like it." He pressed in, tugging you closer and bringing you with your back pressing to his side as his fingers poked at your side again.

You squealed, giggling and squirming. "Quit it! You're here for company, not torture!" You snorted, reaching up to push his face away so he couldn't see anything. He playfully bit at your hand, making you drop your hand and smack his arm.

"This isn't torture, I can promise you that much."

"Tickling was literally used as a torture method!" You argued, laughing as you looked up at him, head fallen back on his shoulder since he'd stopped the tickling.

"Eh, you're fine, sweets, just c'mere." He snickered, tugging you in closer and helping you lean upright on him, your back pressing to his chest. "You comfortable like this?" He asked, arms around your waist.

"Mmh.. yeah, comfy." You nodded.

Despite the circumstances of the power being out, weather being bad, etc., Leon found ways to keep you from losing your mind. Your body was almost always at ease with him, and he was with you the same. What you were both clueless to was how badly you wanted each other. Leon couldn't live with himself if he'd made a move on such a sweet girl like you, especially since the age difference was less than socially acceptable. You, on the other hand, were just not as accepting of your physical needs.

It didn't help you that Leon was so kind. Not only to you, but you'd heard from the sweet old lady across the street that he'd walk her dog, and when her grandkids came over, if Leon was around, he'd always offer to help out and lighten her load. Apparently, he was close with the older lady, and you found that so sweet. He was so kind, welcoming, and so unbelievably sexy. A body made of hard earned muscle and strength, definitely had a bit of a tummy that you found attractive, and that goddamn stubble of his, and his body hair that you often didn't have a preference toward, but on Leon, it drove you crazy. You wouldn't dare make a move, but right now, with his arms around you, feeling a little more than just friendly as he had one hand resting just barely above your waistband, your shirt having been worked up when he was tickling you, so you felt his rough palm against your lower belly.

Leon's breathing remained steady, but he could feel yours becoming faster, uneven as his hand rested there. He'd done it on purpose, just to try it out, and he felt you shift your hips closer to him and his grasp. You hoped he hadn't noticed, but you knew he did when his fingers tensed and splayed more firmly over your exposed belly.

"Still comfy?" He asked, voice sounding raspier than before. You swallowed harshly, nodding.

"Mhmm. Still comfy." You confirmed, quiet and slightly embarrassed.

"You sure? You're squirmin' a little, and you don't sound too comfy." He prodded, knowing damn well what the problem might be.

"No, no, 'm comfy." You insisted, breath hitching as he leaned his head down, a chuckle rumbling low in his chest.

"You don't mind it, do you?" He asked, emphasizing his question with a soft press of his palm into your hip.

You shook your head, curling up closer and turning your head to bury it in his arm. "I.. I don't. I don't mind." You admitted quietly. God, you were so cute, and you weren't even aware of it. Leon was literally fighting every sane, moral part of him right now because all he wanted to do was lean in, kiss your neck, curl his arm around your shoulders and let his other hand roam below the sweats that were already dangerously close to showing off your panties.

"Don't hide from me. I like lookin' at you." He murmured, lifting a hand to gently pull your head upward, letting you look up at him, pretty doe eyes all wide and beautiful.

"You don't have to be all sweet like this just because I'm anxious." You looked away again, but didn't hide.

"I'm not being sweet because you're anxious. I'm being sweet because I think you're beautiful and I'm taking advantage of a nice, romantic moment to tell you how pretty you are. Especially under candlelight." He explained, his tone steady and certain.

"You're just saying that 'cause we're cuddling."

"Oh, is this cuddling? I thought I was just warming you up." He snickered. "I don't mind a little cuddling. Hell, being close to you at all is quite a treat." He said, his head craned lower to have his voice right next to your ear, now dropped to a whisper.

"Leon.." you whined, face turned away quickly as he made you blush deeper. The arm over your shoulder lifted higher, his arm curling at the elbow so he could keep your face from turning away any more.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, genuinely.

You hesitated. The immediate answer was no, God no, but you couldn't just say that. So you shook your head. He clicked his tongue.

"I'm afraid I'll need words, sweets. You know what this is leading to. And I need to know that you want it." He said, shifting to pull you into his lap, your back still facing him.

You nodded. "I.. I do. I do want this. I don't want you to stop." You leaned back, expressing your consent physically in how your body melted and fit perfectly against his.

"Good. Now that we're on the same page.." he trailed off, leaning down to kiss at your neck. He felt the goosebumps rise and prickle your skin. "You wanna tell me how long you've had a thing for me? Or should I talk first?" He mused, lips grazing your earlobe. You poked at his arm, and he chuckled. He knew it meant the second option he gave. He wanted so badly to hear you, but he wouldn't push yet. "That first time you brought over your muffins as a thank you gift to me for helping you move your bed and dresser into the house. You've been the cutest, most tempting thing ever since." He spoke, breath grazing your skin.

There was a pause as he kissed your neck, pulling your hair aside before both hands dropped, splayed over your hips as his thumbs hooked under your waistband. Your breath hitched, hips twitching with self restraint.

"And I love seeing you in your garden when it's warm. You look so fucking gorgeous in those pretty yellow shorts and your tight shirts, almost always without a bra. You think I don't notice?" He groaned at the memories of seeing you across the fence line in the backyard of your house. It started accidental, Leon stumbling across the sight on the first month of warm weather you had when you were still new to the neighborhood. He didn't mean to look, but when he saw you kneeling to tend to your herbs, checking for any damage or growth, he was stuck on you like glue. Almost memorized your gardening days.

"Leon.." you whined once more, head lifting to look up at him. "Aren't you embarrassed?"

"No, not really. Ashamed? Maybe. It feels so wrong, but I think you're too damn pretty not to at least make a move. And if I'm reading this right, you're not exactly denying the attention, are you?" He mused, hands slipping lower into your sweats before you automatically lifted your hips, allowing him to push your sweats down to your mid-thigh, leaving your pink cotton panties on display for him. "Why don't you start talkin', sweets? Don't you think it's only fair?" He teased, hands spreading your thighs wider.

You shivered, goosebumps prickling your skin once more, body trembling faintly from the cold and nerves. "I-its embarrassing." You whined again, head turning away as you wrapped an arm around his bicep, pulling it closer so you could hide your face.

"What, you need me to help with your nerves?" He feigned disappointment. "Poor girl, so embarrassed just because she's a little needy. You want me to help with that?" He finally brought his right hand down, palming your core through your panties, two fingers pressing at the warmth of your entrance through the thick gusset. You yelped, hips jolting as your legs closed around his hand.

"S-sorry, I just... don't usually t-touch myself. Let alone having someone else do it.." you admitted, clinging tighter to his arm.

"Mmh, she's sensitive, huh? Don't worry, that just makes it better." He kissed at your neck again, this time beginning to suckle light hickeys into the expanse of skin.

You let out a soft moan, lips parting as your hips bucked when his thumb pressed to your clit, causing a tiny gush of arousal to begin pooling in your panties. "Fuck," you whined, watching him spread your thighs wider.

"Kick your pants off, would you? They keep sliding back up." He said, his free hand pushing the band back down. You obeyed, shuffling your way out of the loose sweatpants. "There we go. So good, aren't you? You're being so good for me, I think you've already earned yourself a reward."

Leon hooked two fingers under the gusset, pushing it aside to get a view of your fat, slickening pussy. Your legs tried to close again, but he swatted your newly exposed core, making you squeak. "Wha—why did you do that?" You pouted, looking up at him with a frown. He soothed the faint, barely there sting with a slow rub of his palm over it.

"Keep your legs open. I wanna see you all the way." He demanded, though it didn't feel threatening or mean.

You shifted around, trying to get yourself comfortable to where you'd be able to listen to his demands. He just laughed, kissing at your cheek. You looked up at him, and he took the chance to capture your lips with his, deep and slow.

He used your distraction to slip two fingers between your folds, spreading them wide as he teased your entrance with a third finger in the middle. You whimpered, and he deepened the kiss, finally adding tongue as he inserted a finger. You choked on a moan, and he let you pull away to breathe, panting and huffing as you grabbed at his wrist and looked down, watching him slowly fuck his finger back and forth. The sight of your slick coating his finger was humiliating. You turned away, but your body kept bucking for more, and he gave.

He pressed in another finger, feeling your back arch and your body fight the need to melt into the pleasure. "Just breathe, baby. You can take it." He purred, curling his fingers and letting his thumb come down to circle your clit. You yelped, thighs closing around his hand again. "Open. Don't be shy, sweets."

"'S s-so good," you gasped, thighs trembling around his hand. Just when you were getting into it, melting and humping against his hand, he stopped. "Wh—why?!" You looked up at him, pouty and already so overwhelmed.

"Open your legs. I already told you." He said firmly. You craned your head to bury into his neck, pushing yourself to listen to his repeated demand. Once your legs were open, he started slow again. "Hold them open."

"But—"

"Just hold them open. You can close them around my head all you want once I've got you undone like this first." He said, watching your cheeks flush as you listened, pulling your legs upward, holding them to your chest with your arms linked under your knees, spread wide for his viewing pleasure.

Leon sped up, finding that same eager, damn near mind-numbing pace that he had before he stopped. Your body turned to mush in his lap, and he had to hold you up to keep you from slipping too close to the edge of the couch. His free hand tugged you back to him, your head tucker just beneath his chin, and in order to keep you still and upright with nowhere to hide, his arm hooked under your chin in a mock head lock. You never would've thought you'd be so turned on by a wrestling move. Your body jolted, pleasure doubling just because of the threat that if he wanted to, he could put pressure and constrict your airway, leaving you helpless and mushy at his mercy. You cried out, eyes rolling back.

"Mmh, what's wrong, sweets? You like it? Poor thing, so overwhelmed, and yet you can't get enough." He cooed, a deep chuckle leaving his throat.

"Fuck—" You heaved, gasping as your nails dug into your own thighs, fighting desperately not to close. "Leon, please, j-just—ah!—oh, my god!" Your head fell back, back arching almost violently off of his chest as he applied a sharp, mean pressure to your clit, simultaneous with the stimulation of your g-spot, ensuring you were at the height of what he could offer in this position.

"It's okay, just let it happen. You wanna cum, don't you? Take it, take it, and be as greedy as your pretty pussy wants." He groaned, feeling your core squeeze tighter around his fingers. At the last minute, he slipped a third finger into you, and the burn of the stretch only added to your arousal.

"Leon! Fuck—fuckfuckfuck!" You sobbed. Your orgasm crashed into you quickly, vision bleary and skin hot to the touch. Leon fucked you through it, feeling your pussy gush and pulse around his fingers. You cried, thighs trembling as they finally closed again, your hands flying to grab onto his arms, head tilting down to bite at his bicep. Small, broken moans and cries left you as you came down, fully undone and spent in his arms.

Once your teeth stopped biting down, he pulled his arms away, fingers leaving you empty and cold. You shook. Part of you expected to be left now that he'd gotten a taste, but you were beyond pleased when he turned you around in his lap, cleaning his fingers with his tongue before he met you in a slow, softer kiss, lips fitting together nicely despite the quiver in yours.

"You did so good, baby. You took it so well. Now," he kissed down your jaw, stopping at your ear. "I wanna get a proper feel of you. Think I can do that, sweets?" He asked sweetly, so effortlessly convincing with his gravely voice that he made sound so sugary sweet when he'd call you cute little pet names, and just like that, your pussy was already fucking throbbing again, awaiting his touch. You nodded.

"Please," you breathed. "I need it. Need you, Leon." You shifted, thighs still shaky as you straddled his lap properly, pressing your already satisfied and reawakened cunt against his hard-on. It was like a switch had been turned back on in a matter of seconds.

"Yeah? You've been waiting for this, haven't you?" He purred, his hips pressing upward into yours with a low groan. "Fuck, such a pretty thing." He leaned his head forward to dip lower at your collarbone that he revealed with a tug against your t-shirt. His hands slipped under your shirt, sliding all the way up to gently cup your breasts, eliciting a low sound of satisfaction. He felt the lace of the fabric, his hands squeezing gently around your breasts.

"You're wearing lace?" He huffed, kissing back up to your neck as he nipped lightly. "Fuck, I gotta see, can I see it, sweets?" He asked, pecking at your lips eagerly.

"Ah.. yeah, 'course.." You huffed lightly, leaning back with a giggle as he followed, trying to follow your lips and keep you from pulling away. The only thing that stopped him was you lifting your shirt over your head, fully revealing your pink lacey bra that had a tiny bow at the bottom of the valley between your breasts. It matched your panties that had a similar bow at the center of the waistband. Leon was stuck like a deer in headlights. He couldn't figure out where to look, where to touch.

"Oh, God is good." He breathed, half jokingly, as he grabbed you by the waist and laid you on the couch, climbing on top as he went straight to find your breasts with his mouth, his hands tugging gently on the fabric to fully expose the body beneath. He didn't hesitate to take a nipple into his mouth, listening to you squeak and feeling you squirm. He pressed between your thighs, his hands dropping to undo his belt and push his jeans down, letting you get a better feel of his cock through the thin layer of fabric.

"Oh," you breathed, the sound melting into a low moan. "Leon, please." Your hips bucked up, pressing into him, making sure he felt the warmth against him.

"Relax. Just gimme.. gimme a second." He laughed quietly against your chest, kissing his way to your other breast as he pushed your legs wider and ground against you, eliciting a soft whimper as his tip notched against your puffy clit.

"Leon!" You whined, growing more insistent as you reached out to grab lightly at his shoulders, pulling him in closer.

"God, you're so needy." He looked up at you, finally pulling away. He lifted his hips and pushed his boxers down, letting his cock spring free, landing to lay against your folds. "You want it bad, don't you? You wanna tell me how bad?" He encouraged, a nearly perverted grin on his face as he grabbed his cock, sliding the tip back and forth along your wetness before he found himself smacking his tip against your clit, watching you jolt with each one.

"F-fuck!" You gasped, nails digging into his shoulders as your head lifted to look down, thighs trying to close around him. He held one thigh open, the other stopped by his body in the way. "Please, I want it s-so bad. I've waited so long, fuckin' dreamt of it." You admitted, the dirty words slipping out much easier under the promise of him finally giving in.

"Mmh, now I feel a lot less perverse. You had dreams about this? Me fucking you into your couch til you're begging?" He smacked the tip of his cock against your entrance, and he felt you clench around nothing. You nodded rapidly, thighs trembling.

"Yes, fuck, yes. I really.. really need you." You looked up at him, eyes still bleary as you panted lightly from your breath holding periodically.

"God, you're so cute. So fucking gorgeous when you beg and whine." He breathed, finally surrendering as his cock slipped in with no warning, sliding in much easier thanks to his added arousal and prep. You whimpered, lips quivering as you practically shrank, hands dropping and clutching onto the couch cushion beneath you.

Leon groaned, eyes squeezing shut as his nose scrunched with restraint. He tried desperately not to go crazy immediately, trying to remember that he had no clue whether you were experienced like this or not. He knew you weren't a virgin, but the specifics were unknown to him. Slowly, he pulled his hips back, eyelids fluttering with an eye roll as his head lulled back. You melted, walls fluttering around him. He exhaled heavily, a moan lingering in his throat as he pushed back in, finally beginning to actually thrust.

"Fuck—please, f-faster," you whined, thighs trying to wrap around his waist. He grabbed your thighs, pushing them open and up to where your knees pressed up toward your chest, practically folded like a pretzel. You choked on a moan as he pushed deeper, finding spots you weren't even aware of inside of you.

"This better? You like—mmngh—you like getting fucked by your neighbor in the middle of the night? Bet you've fucked yourself with me in mind with the way you're reacting."

Shameless, mind clouded with pleasure, you nodded desperately, lips parted with heavy pants and loud moans leaving you as his thrusts sped up and got meaner, his short nails digging into the skin of your thighs, leaving blunt cresent shaped marks.

Leon found it harder to taunt and talk dirty, his own grunts and moans making it complicated to form proper sentences without interruptions. He resorted to occasional praise, filling in the silence with sweet words between grunts, telling you how perfect you are, how good you feel, how badly he wants to fuck you til neither of you can move or speak. Of course, that would have to wait, and he was more than satisfied for the time being.

You cried, eyes rolling back as your hands lifted to pull him down, begging incoherently for him to hold onto you and not stop because if he stopped, you would most definitely start crying for real purely out of frustration. His body stayed low to yours, hips moving at a pace as fast as he could, tip kissing your cervix with every deep, mean thrust. You whined, hips rolling desperately for a little more. His head dipped, taking your nipple into his mouth as he muttered something you couldn't make out.

Since his hands were busy, you took it upon yourself to reach between your bodies, trembling hand finding your clit, a cry pulled from your throat as you rubbed your clit in quick, firm back and forth motions. Leon groaned, suckling harshly around the hardened nub, biting lightly before you yelped, and he switched sides. He felt himself approaching his own climax, but he refused to finish first. He doubled his efforts, hissing with restraint.

"Fuck, come on, sweets, give it to me. 'M not gonna last much longer in your pretty pussy," his eyes rolled back as he panted against your breasts, his hips faltering momentarily before he snapped back into it.

Without much more warning, only a squeal and a mewl, your walls gushed around him, and he was beyond satisfied to see a ring of white had formed around the base of his cock, a lewd sight that was only made more lewd as he bottomed out roughly, a groan melting into a gasp and a moan that he tried desperately not to let sound like a whimper or a whine. His cum spilled into you, and you gave a small squeak at the sensation, eyes squeezing shut as he ground his hips lazily, tip pressing firm to your cervix.

Once you both came down, Leon pushed himself upward, still above you as he pulled out carefully, a shudder falling from both of you. He sat back on his haunches, sighing as he helped your thighs ease back down, massaging your hips as you whined from the discomfort of the position he'd had you in now leaving you with a small ache that you already felt would be worse by morning. Leon watched, shameless, as his load spilled out of you, your hole twitching at the sensation. You finally moved to close your legs, embarrassed by his heated gaze.

He didn't stop you this time, just pulled you into his grasp, kissing the crook of your neck and all the way up to your lips. "You're an absolute dream." He murmured softly, and you gave a small, bashful giggle as you melted into him, sniffling faintly as you shook in his hold.

"Mmh, 's cold." You complained. He chuckled, rising to stand up as he held you close, your legs wrapping around his waist.

"Why don't we go get you wiped down and we can just lay down? I can bring the candles to your room so it's not too dark." He suggested, already moving toward the bathroom, following the dim candlelight before you were gently placed on the counter. He reached for a clean rag, getting it wet to carefully wipe down the mess between your thighs before he did himself. Once cleaned up, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted, bringing you to the bedroom. "Stay here, just for a second." He muttered, kissing your forehead before he left the room.

Only a minute or two later, he returned with one candle, just for the bedside table, and the comforter. He placed the candle down and crawled into bed with you, tucking the comforter around you as snug as possible.

"Leon?" You muttered quietly, turning to face him. "You'll stay for breakfast, right?"

"Why wouldn't I? I didn't come here with this in mind, but even if it hadn't happened, I was still planning on at least ordering breakfast if the power was still out." He leaned in to kiss your lips, letting you melt into him to ease your doubts.

"Thank you." You whispered quietly, deepening the kiss and pressing your bare chest to his.

"Hey, hey, don't start another round you can't finish, sweets." He chuckled, gently pulling away with a smirk.

"Who said I couldn't finish it?" You grinned, curling closer to him.

Spoiler alert—there was multiple rounds, and the power wasn't back in the morning.

he tries to keep his composure, but you let him sit in his lust, backing your hips against him in your own little rhythm that makes him pull his lips from yours. it’s hard for him to focus as you pull groans from him, quivering inside of you as you cast a spell on him with your stare. his jaw hangs open ever so slightly, feeling your lips beg for him. he wants to function like a normal man and kiss you back, but you ride him so well, he swears he’s malfunctioning. he does lap your lips into a sloppy kiss eventually, breaking it before he even seals it.

“you keep moving on me like that we’re not leaving,” leon warns. his chest rises and falls against your back, meshing with each effortless roll of his body that sends him deeper into you.  

there’s something you say that sends electricity down leon's spine. smirking, your hips slow down, squeezing around him. “old man can’t handle quickies anymore, huh?” you whisper against his lips. “too old to fuck me?”

he swears you light him up right there, feeling the flames engulf him. the grip of his arm around your neck tightens from the tease. leon disapproves, shaking his head. leaning in and placing a gentle kiss to your now messy lips, he quickly snaps his hips into yours once again. “being between me and the dresser is not the best time to be a smartass, sugar.” he relishes in your whine, though it’s replaced by amusement once you speak again.

“if you didn’t want a smartass, you wouldn't have married someone twenty years younger than you, isn't that right?” 

leon couldn't deny that, but it still could’ve been something you said after you were dressed. instead, the consequence has you doubling over as his fingers work into your clit faster, fluttering around his weeping shaft. he hears your cries, slow thrusts quickening. he leaves your body to fall limp over the dresser, toes curling as his arms leave your neck to slip his hand on his back for support. “i hear you joking, but i don't hear you laughing.”

he stares at you through the mirror, hair messy,  makeup ruined and he swears he can feel the urge to fill you up growing. you wriggle so much against him as you fight an incoming orgasm, trying to keep it in so you can cum with your husband. you try with everything in you; breathing, digging your nails in the palms of your hands, but if anything, those techniques pushed you closer to the edge. 

“oh fuck— i’m gonna cum,” you start, hand hovering over leon’s that works in between your though before he stops. 

the growl that leaves you sends leon into a frenzy. he can’t let you have your cake and eat it too, especially after that little quip you made. “what do you think?” he grumbles, leaning in to take in the scent of your hair. “should this old man make you cum?” 

you nod your head quickly, your free hand reaching behind you and cupping the back of his neck. “y-es. yes please,” you caress his nape, fingernails digging into his flesh. he sits with the option in his hand, circling his fingers back on your clit, pushing your hips deeper into the dresser. there’s a hum of gratification from your whimper, feeling the tip of his tongue drag down your neck, soon taking a gentle bite at your skin.

feeling you lose balance in his hold, the older man helps keep you up, picking up on your eyes rolling through the mirror. “you cum, we stay home. got it?”

“g–ot it,” you slur, head resting on his chest, fingers curling over his working hand. 

“hands off,” he demands, ripping his hand away from you again. your gasp doesn’t move him, the tip of his nose running up your cheek prior to biting your ear lobe. “my pussy, ya hear me?” he growls. “you don’t get to tell me how to touch you right now." as he bullies you into obedience, he can feel his body cracking under pressure. a familiar buzz runs over his body, tingling in his fingertips, wrecking his pattern. he almost forgets to continue his movement with his fingers, but he follows through. 

he underestimates how close you actually are, whines being pulled from you like he can’t survive without them. with each stroke he spreads you open, you feel the buildup in your stomach, body twitching under his intensity. your cunt kisses around him the more you hear his breath shake, grumbling swears under his breath like he can’t take it. and maybe he can’t. 

how could he when he feels you attempt to empty him clean? tight around him, begging for him with those cute little moans. the helpless one is him. your moans erupt for him, feeling your climax wave over you, grabbing onto any part of him that you can. leon of course lets you. but not because he wants to, but because he can’t tease you anymore now that he’s spilling into you, mentally begging for mercy. he doesn't mean to fill you up so much, but he can feel the pushback around him that he almost slips out. his head falls back, fingers attacking your swollen little clit. on the rare chance you two come at the same time, you both treat it like it’s the olympics. but sometimes, leon likes to go for gold. with his head coming back up, he sees you writhe under his hold, whining without properly begging for him to stop.

so he doesn’t. in fact, he keeps on working your body. “leon– fuck– leon please.” his hips have slowed down by now but the second he actually pulls out of you, his ring and middle finger take you over. it’s all about you now. you try to speak by saying something, anything. you can't even look your husband’s way without having to spill all over his hands. leon lives for it. he pops a tired smile on his lips as he watches you shudder under his fingers, attacking that spongy part inside of you, curling his fingers. he stays firm while you fight against him, placing his arm back over your neck so you can hold onto him. 

you look at your husband through the mirror, watching his muscles flex, quiver in his lip and the way his lips are parted feels like he’s mocking you. his fingers push everything he released back into you, leaning in and kissing your temple. “what do you think? i still got it?” his digits fight with your slick walls contracting around him, but he doesn't let up.

before you can answer, you don’t fight the wave that leaves you, spilling down your legs. you don’t whine or swear, but release broken sobs, too stimulated to function. your body vibrates in his arms, losing balance feeling him keep you up against his chest. 

your husband is hasty with slipping his fingers out of you, spinning your dizzy body around to see your fucked out expression. he wants to check in, but the low eyed glare you're giving him makes him hold out. he smiles instead, “hey, you alright?” he asks, chuckling while you nod. 

“yes–” you whisper, not worrying if the man hears you or not.

“i’m sorry,” leon starts, cupping your cheek and pressing a soft kiss on your puffy, smudged lips. “i’m sorry we missed dinner.” 

you don’t want to hear it. the man is amused as a finger lifts up to his lips, watching you shake your head. “rescedule it,” falling into his arms, you’re satisfied with the quick nod he gives you. 

“le–on,” you try again between thrusts, watching an intense gaze flicker towards your eyes with fluster. leon doesn’t have it in him to speak; all of the words he wants to say would be the wrong ones. instead, he pulls your head in by the neck, dropping a messy kiss on your lips. his hips ease into yours slower, the smack of your flesh making him grunt through his kiss as he twitches inside of you. 

the air around him is encapsulating, wrapping him in heat. it sends electricity down his spine to see your body reaching on for air through his hand, watching your shut eyes shift under their lids. your breath isn’t completely taken, but restricted enough to be shallow. he notices the way tears brim your waterline, causing him to lick your bottom lip before trapping your kiss once more between his teeth. “come on, i’ve got ya,” he growls against your cheek, breathing in like you’re his lifesource. “you look at me and only me, got it? eyes on me." his demand comes after pulling away from your face, vision training yours. 

“”s so big, daddy.” your eyes grow wide in focus, though they try to close from the stimulation.

leon’s body nearly does a hard reset, hips stuttering as he releases an exhale filled with shake. “what did you say?” he actually has the audacity to shift his posture, straightening his back as if that would help him hear you correctly. 

“you’re so big,” you try again, too lost in your own pleasure to realize that he’s talking about the new nickname. no one had ever referred to him as ‘daddy’ in all twenty seven years of his life, feeling the shiver run over the front of his body, stinging at his toes. 

as if to grab intel from you using intimidation, his face grows closer to yours, gripping your neck tighter. “you know damn well what i’m talking about,” the tip of his nose brushes against yours, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. the hand that kept your thigh back guided your leg to rest over his shoulder, sweeping his free hand to your face. it grips your lax jaw before he has a change of heart, lightly tapping your cheek with the tips of his fingers as if to slap you. “say it again.”

a rush runs through his body watching you gasp, quickly biting your lip. “fill me up, daddy.”

another ‘slap’, “again.”

“please daddy.”

“fuck,” leon lowers his head, feeling his orgasm attempt to be pulled from him. he can feel how tight you are, begging for him to send you over the edge right along with him, and he doesn’t hesitate. “that’s a good girl. my fuckin’ girl.” 

a nod suffices while leon rips one last kiss from you before his face hides in your bosom, hand leaving your face for his thumb to fiddle with the throbbing bud between your thighs. if he was going to fill you up, he’s gonna have to make sure his girl is getting her fix.

your hands fall from his neck only to cling to the wrist holding your neck against the seat. your hips wiggle under the touch of his thumb, cunt devouring him. and as you reach your breaking point, your whole body throbs as leon’s hips stutter, soon climax ripping from him in the back of his blacked out 2003 bmw. he shudders inside of you, jumping, filling your womb with hot ropes of white. his face begs for refuge, brows knit and jaw quivering as groans leave his mauve toned lips. his thumb loses its original rhythm, slowing down before he feels your hands in his hair. 

heavy hands fall to your waist, anchoring himself. you watch his chest rise and fall, an unreadable look littered all over his face until he speaks. “you wanna cum?” he asks you bluntly, eyes shifting between yours. of course you do; you’re not spread out on his seats for nothing. so as you nod once more, he understands, but it’s not enough. 

again, his fingertips slap the flesh of your cheek, his bottom lip hostage between his teeth before he speaks, “talk to me like a big girl.” 

“yes.” 

leon takes this moment to stare at you, smile wavering on the edge of something truly deviant. “mm mm,” he denies, kissing your forehead. “get dressed. when we get home, you're mine.” 

though now you’re soft as dough. too tired to function and too turned on to wait any longer. shaking your head, leon nods, his forehead glued to yours. 

“no,” you whine.

“yes,” he mocks you. “when we make it home, we can go all night if ya want, i promise. i just— shit,” he releases his final tired breath, “really missed you.” you’re just so pretty to him at this moment he couldn’t fathom seeing you in any other way. he watches the sheen on your skin glisten under the natural light pouring into the car, watching your clothed chest rise and fall. 

“that is so selfish,” you hiss, pouting, hands running over his hips. “i want you now.” your body lies limp on the backseat, hearing him chuckle shamelessly, zipping up his jeans. 

“my girl, my rules. you’re gonna pull that skirt down and wait till we make it home, beautiful.” 

“...fine.”