#bladestarwrites

And that was one of the big reasons you were so tense. You hadn’t cum in months and hadn’t had sex in over a year. This dry spell had you desperate. Work had eaten up so much of your time that finding dates or hookups was simply impossible. And you were so stressed and so exhausted that you couldn’t make yourself cum. You’d either end up crying in frustration or passing out from fatigue.

Fuck, maybe going out was a good idea.

The anticipation built in you during the evening and into the next day, and by the time work ended on Friday, you were practically buzzing with excitement. Even if you couldn’t get fucked, you could at least dance and drink your woes away. It was always fun to unwind with your friend, anyway.

You met her at your favorite bar Friday night, both of you dressed in outfits that showed more than they covered, cash ready to tip any live performers. The bar was a great place to pregame—good food, cheap shots, and a fifty-fifty chance at live music. It was perfect to get into the mood for the club later. It was busy with the rush of DC white-collar workers and government employees that always came after work, still dressed in their work clothes. You and your friend were the only ones dressed to turn heads.

You sat together at the bartop and the familiar feeling of the barstool under you made you relax already. You ordered a round of shots and some nachos to get the night started.

“Cheers!” you and your friend cried out as you clinked your shot glasses together.

You threw the shot back and savored the burn of the vodka going down your throat. Fuck, it had been too damn long since you had any fun.

“Ooh there’s an actual smile on your face,” your friend teased good-naturedly, “Hold on, lemme take a photo!”

You swatted playfully at her, “Fuck off.”

You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be annoyed with her, especially not when the platter of cheap nachos was placed in front of you. Fake queso and everything.

When the second plate was brought out, your friend excused herself and scampered off to the bathrooms, leaving you to munch the food on your own. You had a feeling you wouldn’t make it to the club later, but you didn’t mind. The live music was good, the food was good, the drinks were good. Yeah, you were feeling pretty fantastic.

However, when your friend was gone for a solid ten minutes, you began to worry. You turned to get off your barstool, only to see her sitting at a booth and getting cozy with some guy. You caught her gaze and quirked a brow at her and she mouthed sorry at you before laughing at something the guy said.

Ugh.

At least one of you was getting lucky tonight.

“Is this seat free?” a deep voice asked.

You spun so fast you nearly snapped your neck. Beside you stood one of the most attractive men you’d ever seen in your life. Dirty blond hair that covered his face with fringe. A tight blue shirt that showed off his well-built torso. A leather jacket that screamed expensive. A jawline you’d very much like to kiss along. Blue eyes you could get lost in. And… wait, he’d asked you something, hadn’t he?

“Oh, er, go ahead,” you said awkwardly, “My friend ditched me,” you said, gesturing toward where she and that guy were now making out.

Ah, she’d always been a free spirit.

The man beside you chuckled and took a seat where your friend once sat. As he got closer, you took a subtle sniff. Damn, he even smelled nice.

“Whiskey, neat,” he said to the bartender, “And something for the lady.”

“Water,” you said with a smirk, “I don’t let strange men buy me drinks.”

It was a test, of course, and the man gave a smirk and nodded, “Mhm, smart.”

Ok. First test passed.

The bartender poured the man his whiskey and gave you a glass of water. You held your glass toward the man and smiled when he clinked his against it.

“Name’s Leon,” he said before taking a sip of his drink.

You introduced yourself and took a gulp of your water before grabbing some more nachos.

“So, what brings you here?” Leon asked, eyeing you up and down, “You’re not exactly dressed for a joint like this.”

“Well, we were just pregaming,” you drawled, “We were supposed to go to the club, next, but…”

His blue eyes cut over to your friend and mirth spread across his features, “Yeah, looks like your friend already found her entertainment for the night.”

You turned to look, only to turn straight into her. She had the decency to look sheepish as she approached.

“Er, I’m gonna head out with Marcus, here,” she said, nodding toward the man behind her. Her eyes darted between you and Leon before narrowing slightly, “You good?”

You nodded, “I’m good. You owe me a night out, though. You’re paying for everything next time.”

She gave you a grin and a salute, “Aye, ma’am!” she declared before glancing at Leon again, “And be safe, ok?”

“You, too,” you said with barely concealed amusement.

Once your friend and her boytoy were gone, you turned back to Leon before both of you began to snicker at your friend’s antics.

“She seems… spirited,” the man said into his drink.

You rolled your eyes fondly, “Yeah. She’s a wild one.”

“What about you? Got any of that wild side?”

You smirked at him, “Mm, why don’t you get to know me and find out?”

----------

Two hours later and you were screaming like a banshee into the expensive bedding in his fancy-ass apartment. You’d already cum twice—once on his fingers and once on his mouth—and you were now rapidly hurtling toward your third orgasm as Leon gave you the best fuck of your life. Dry spell? Officially ended.

Leon fucked you with a single-minded focus to make you cum. His hips slapped against your ass with lewd, wet sounds as his dick hit your sweet spot on every thrust. You’d literally never been with a man who managed to be so precise as he took you apart. Well, it helped that Leon was also fucking hung. You wailed as his thick girth stretched you so much it burned a little.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Leon groaned as he leaned over you, pressing his weight on you, chest pinning you to the bed, “You’re so wet for me, gorgeous. So sensitive, too. It’s so hot.”

“M-more, please!”

Leon chuckled in your ear and maneuvered you until you were flat on the bed and your eyes rolled back at just how delicious he felt in this position. You’d never done prone bone before, and now you needed it every day. Specifically with Leon. He felt even bigger like this, and you came with a pathetic cry of his name, feeling your cum soaking his navel and your thighs. It splashed around with each wet thrust, and you felt yourself get even more turned on at just how messy you were being.

“Look at that,” Leon rasped, “Squirtin’ all over me, beautiful.”

You grunted in response, beyond words at this point. And, shit, Leon was still going. Cock hard and hot and throbbing and you almost wished he wasn’t wearing a condom just so you could really feel him.

“Mmf, gonna cum, baby,” Leon moaned as his hips stuttered, “Oh, fuck!”

He groaned your name as he came, his hips twitching against yours as you felt extra warmth fill the condom inside you. You whimpered as he collapsed atop you, happy to be pinned wholly under his weight. Both of you were gasping for air, bodies a sticky mess of sweat and cum, and Leon was gentle as he eventually pulled out of you.

You expected him to begin cleaning himself up, maybe nudge you toward the door, but you were delightfully surprised when he helped you to the bathroom. He let you do your business and shower first before taking his turn. You felt a little guilty using his super expensive body soap, but you figured he could afford it. When you were clean—though still a touch shaky—you exited the bathroom to find Leon holding a bundle of clothes toward you.

“Should be comfortable enough to sleep in,” he murmured, “Get comfortable, yeah?”

You nodded mutely. This was… not just a hookup, was it?

He smiled at you as you took the clothes and he pressed a kiss to your forehead before heading into the bathroom himself.

You grinned like a giddy schoolgirl as you got dressed and crawled into his freshly-changed bed and under the covers.

A girl could get used to this, you thought.

Leon is the newest recruit to the RPD and always indulges you in more than simple greetings. He asks you about your classes, your friends, your family, and you return his interest with your own. Your nighttime chats have become such a regular occurrence that Leon now waits for you with a snack and drink on his desk. Always something nice from the deli, not some cheap convenience store or vending machine food. He sometimes follows you around and helps when he can, even throws some teasing remarks your way.

"Missed a spot."

"You're scrubbing that mirror like it stole your lunch money."

You retaliate by splashing him with soapy water and the two of you end up laughing together every time.

Sometimes, after your shift, if you have any energy left inside you, you sit with him in the West Office and listen to music together. You take turns with selecting the music, bringing in your favorite tapes and CDs for each other to try.

And, through the months of late-night chats, laughter, food, music, and companionship, you find yourself falling for Leon Kennedy.

-----

Six months in, and Leon suddenly stops appearing at night shifts. The first night he's a no-show, you brush it off. Maybe he's sick or on vacation. Life happens.

The second week has you feeling nervous.

After another month, you feel your heart break. He must've been reassigned, leaving you without your trusted companion, the only bright spot during these godawful shifts. You contemplate going into the station during business hours to see him, but you push that idea away. You don't want to embarrass him by showing up at his place of work unexpected, especially since you had no inclination if he felt even a fraction of the affection you felt.

You listen to the music he gave you as you work and reminisce on all the good times you had with him. Still, the hallways feel ominous again, and the time passes slowly, slowly, slowly…

Life goes on.

-----

You run into Leon Kennedy again under horrible circumstances.

Someone, or a group of someones, broke into your apartment building and looted several of the units, including yours. When the cops come, you see him step out of the cruiser with one of his colleagues and your breath gets caught in your throat. You watch the two of them walk into the building from your spot on one of the lobby's godawful chairs and you feel the weeks of loneliness bubbling forth. However, this is not the time, and you tamp down your emotions as best you can.

But when Leon catches sight of you, his eyes go wide in shock before a broad grin stretches across his face and your heart bursts at the sight of it. He gives you a wave and gestures for you to stay put. You nod. You're pretty sure your legs will give out if you try to stand anyway, your nerves are so fried between your apartment being robbed and seeing him again. You watch him as he and his colleague split up and question the other tenants, a smile pulling at your lips when Leon works your side of the lobby, leaving you for last.

When he stands in front of you, you know everything is going to be ok.

"Hi," you breathe.

"Hey there," he replies, "How you holding up?"

"Better, now," you admit.

I missed you.

"I have some questions about the incident, if you're ready?"

He's professional as he gets what he needs and you do your best to answer as thoroughly as possible. All the while, you can only think about how much you want to kiss him. When he's done he flips to another page of his notepad and scribbles something down before handing it to you with a smile and… a blush?

"Here. Someone should be coming soon to take photos."

"Oh, alright. Thank you, Leon. For everything."

He smiles and looks like he wants to say something more but is called away by his colleague. He gives you one last look before walking off. You watch him talk to his colleague for a moment before looking at the slip of paper in your hand.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

I've missed our late-night snacks, but how about a date instead?

—Leon

You grin.

Yeah, everything's going to be alright.

And someone else had just signed the paperwork for it as Leon set eyes on it. Steve cackled at Leon's slackjawed expression, wholly amused by the whole situation. The agent gave the other man a sour look, only to be met with more laughter and a condescending pat on the shoulder.

"C'mon, I wanna see who got it before you."

Leon did, too.

He and Steve waited by the bike for the heartbreaker to arrive.

And, damn, heartbreaker was the right word for you. Leon tried, and failed, not to choke on his own spit at the sight of you. You looked damn good. You were decked in a black leather jacket that was obviously expensive and well-maintained. Your denim pants were the same shade of black, which was honestly a feat considering how difficult dye matching was. You even had a sleek black helmet tucked under one arm. The only pop of color was the tank top you wore under your jacket, probably your favorite color, and just short enough to expose the faintest strip of your midriff to him.

"Jesus," Leon muttered to himself.

Steve pat his back knowingly, "Good luck."

Leon stepped toward you as you moved to start pushing the bike out of the shop, helmet looking precarious where you'd placed it on the seat.

"Need a hand?"

You turned to look at him and regarded him for a moment, "I dunno. I saw you ogling my girl here. Can I trust you to behave?"

"Probably not."

You gave a laugh at that and held the helmet to him with a twinkle in your eyes, "Uh huh. Here, in case you trip."

Leon scoffed indignantly but took the proffered helmet, nonetheless, and began following you. However, instead of heading outside, you began walking toward the shop.

"Upgrades?" Leon asked, impressed.

"Paint job," you replied easily, "Each of my bikes is a different color."

Leon did, indeed, trip.

"Bikes? Plural? You race or something?"

"Or something," you said with amusement, "What about you? Since you were gunning for her, too?"

Leon recovered and tossed you a smirk, "Me? I just like a sexy ride."

"Oh? Must not be very good at riding, though," you said slyly, "My sales rep was telling me about you. How many crashes in the past two years, five, was it?"

Leon narrowed his eyes, "Your rep wouldn't happen to've been Darrel?"

You laughed at his irritation, "Maybe."

The conversation was paused briefly as you checked the bike in for the paint job and Leon felt a little awkward standing there and holding your helmet. Once the bike was taken back, you turned to him and gave him a smirk.

"So, how about lunch, my treat? A consolation prize," you offered.

Leon readily agreed, cheering internally. He thought he'd lost all coolness points with you from Darrel's gossip.

"Nah, I'll pay," he offered, "Let you save up for another bike."

You shrugged, "Sounds good to me."

You walked toward the exit, leaving Leon to chase after you.

"Want the helmet back?"

You glanced back at him, "Keep it. You know what they say about wearing protection."

Leon grinned and followed you eagerly.

Your face was serious not a moment later when scuffling could be heard on the other side of the door. The two of you made eye contact and nodded before you reached for the handle and he leveled his gun, ready to shoot anything that moved on the other side. With a quick motion, you pushed the door open, and there was barely a second to react before an infected lunged out of the opening. Leon pulled the trigger without blinking and the infected fell to the floor with a thud. However, two more were behind it, Leon was still recovering from his first shot, and you were fighting off one that had lunged at you. This left the man vulnerable just long enough for the other infected to swing wildly with a syringe in its hand and jam the needle into his arm.

Leon felt the liquid in the syringe enter his bloodstream and grunted and shot his assailant. It pulled the syringe out at a shitty angle as it fell, and the agent cursed in pain as the needle tore his flesh some more. By then, all three infected were dead on the floor, and it all had happened in a matter of seconds.

“Mother fucker,” Leon spat as he finally glanced down at his arm to see a steady trickle of blood seeping from the botched injection. However, the bleeding was the least of his worries. “What the hell was in that thing?”

You inspected his wound with worried eyes, and he could see the true fear hidden under your careful expression. Again, the perks of being together for so long.

“We should look in the lab for any details before we move on,” you said with a light tremor in your voice.

Leon hummed in agreement and let you lead him inside the room with a delicate grip around his bicep. He wished he could say something, anything, to comfort you, but you both knew just how fucked up anything concocted in a lab like this would be. The mere fact that you let him sit idly while you searched around was a sure sign you were really worried. Usually, you would give him some shit for an injury, something about getting old or taking one for the team.

But not this time.

You scoured the room with careful and methodical precision. You were meticulous as you looked for any clues, but Leon could see the tremor in your hands and the quiver in your lips that gave away your fear. He knew better than to get in your way, so he sat in an office chair and let you work.

It took about ten minutes before you gasped in shock as you flipped through the screen of a tablet. Leon stood and walked over to you, hovering over your shoulder.

“Find something?” he asked, wincing as his shirt chafed across his chest.

“I think so,” you said, tilting the tablet toward him, “‘Project LactAid’ a series of injections designed to help families struggling with conceiving and rearing children… ok...”

You stopped talking as you read more and Leon wished he had his reading glasses.

“Babe, what color was the serum you were hit with?”

He furrowed his brow, “Uh, purple, I think.”

You hummed in response and hit something on the screen. A new page opened and the font at the top was big enough for Leon to finally read it clearly.

LACTATION BOOSTER

Wait. What?

“Sweetheart, please tell me what it says,” Leon urged, his chest tingling.

He had and idea of what was going on now, but he needed you to say it out loud.

“Fuck, um. It’s a drug to help mothers with difficulty lactating, but uh, it seems it also works on males,” you said with a stupefied voice, “It looks like, since people with your, um, anatomy technically have mammary glands…”

“I get it,” Leon sighed and rubbed over his chest, wincing at the sensitivity.

You looked at his chest and frowned, “It says it’s not deadly, but it will lead to the same tenderness and sensitivity as regular lactation.”

Leon remembered how sore and grumpy you were when you were lactating after each of your kids were born. The way you literally would sob with relief when the children would finally latch and relieve you of the overbearing fullness you felt. The sensitivity of your nipples preventing you from wearing clothes whenever you could get away with it. How you would even push him away from you during sex if he accidentally brushed your swollen breasts.

And now Leon would have to deal with that.

“How long do the effects last?” he asked tiredly.

“About six hours,” you murmured.

There was a beat of silence before Leon grimaced and fell into the office chair again. He pulled his compression shirt away from his chest and sighed at the relief he felt when his nipples were unburdened. You stood in front of him and massaged his scalp gently.

“You gonna be ok? I can wrap this up alone and come back for you,” you offered sweetly.

“Go ahead,” Leon agreed, “I’ll ping you on comms if I need you.”

You gave him one last lingering look before leaving the office and closing the door with a soft click.

Leon sighed and let his hands fall to the fastenings of his harness, eagerly unlatching it and setting it on the abandoned desk beside him. He smoothly took his shirt off next and set it on top of his harness. It was like a breath of fresh air, and Leon looked down at his chest curiously. Already, his pectorals had gotten larger—not much, but just enough to be noticeable.

“Jesus,” he groaned.

This was, by far, the most bizarre situation he had gotten himself into. His pecs were sore and swollen, and, fuck. He needed something to relieve the pressure. He slumped back in the chair and clutched his hair as he sighed yet again.

He tried to remember what had worked for you back during your lactation periods. Obviously, resources were limited here, so Leon needed to get creative.

Then, he remembered something.

Nights alone together, once the kids were asleep, his hands gently massaging your breasts. Your mewls of pleasure as he massaged milk from your breast in a low trickle, alleviating your soreness and lapping it up as it spilled out.

Leon shook his head. Ok, this was a lot less sexy than that, but he assumed the principle was still the same.

“What the fuck. Why not?” he muttered to himself before tossing his gloves off.

With nervous hands, he began to massage his chest the way he remembered you needed. It was… strange. He was used to you playing with his pecs in bed, even toying with his nipples and biting him. But this? He never played with his own chest. And he’d definitely never felt himself up while lactating. He shuddered at how good it felt, how much he needed it. Each palpation was tentative, but growing more and more bold as he found the right spots to get relief.

Leon felt the milk dribble out before he saw it. A warm, wet sensation on his nipples and fingers. He brought a hand up to his face and stared at the creamy liquid on his fingers.

“This is actually happening. Holy shit.”

The urge to lick his fingers flitted through his mind with the briefest flash, but he hastily ignored the thought and put his hand back on his chest to keep massaging.

“Ngh, ah,” he groaned as the pleasure of his ministrations began to shift from relief to something more… sensual.

Fuck. No wonder you got horny when he’d done this before. It felt too good. He felt his dick begin to stir in his tactical pants. He moaned and squirmed as he continued to massage his chest and his nipples continued to leak. It dribbled down from his chest and onto his torso—muscles tensing when the liquid began to cool atop his skin in the chilled air of the office. The sensation of it was a titillating companion to the pleasure stirring in his chest, and his cock began to fill in earnest.

As always happened when Leon was horny, you came to mind. He imagined you there, standing over him, cooing sweet words at him as you guided him through his pleasure. You would encourage him and tell him how lovely he is as he leaks all over himself. You would kneel in front of him and pull down his pants to free his aching dick—ironically, it was also leaking.

He hastily dropped his hands from his chest to undo his fly and shove his pants and briefs down just enough to free his erection. He whimpered when the cool air of the office hit his heated skin and his dick throbbed with need. He massaged his chest a bit more before dropping a hand down to stroke his dick. His motions were slicked by his precum with the breast milk still on his fingers and the realization was far more arousing than it probably should be.

Leon was so lost in pleasure that he didn’t hear the office door open. Didn’t notice you step inside and freeze at the sight of him. Didn’t notice you until he called out your name in pleasure and elicited a gasp from you.

His eyes flashed open and his hands flew from his body. The two of you stared at each other for a long moment, silent save for the sounds of his heavy breathing.

You stepped closer. The shock on your face had morphed into something else. Something familiar. Something that had Leon feeling hot and bothered again.

“I can’t believe I left my needy boy behind,” you cooed as you kept moving closer, “You’re leaking all over, baby. From your tits and from your cock. Not gonna lie, you look very very sexy right now.”

You’d always jokingly called his pecs ‘tits’, but it hit differently now than ever before. Instead of being annoyed or fondly amused, the word was like bolt of pure lust shooting through his body. His dick twitched needily and your gaze snapped to it hungrily.

“You know, I never understood why you liked watching me leak all over the place back when I was breastfeeding,” you mused as you pulled your gloves off, “I thought I looked gross. But I get it now.”

You reached out and ran a feather-light touch over his nipples, mouth parting as you felt his breast milk coat your digits. Leon whimpered at your touch and had to force himself to keep his eyes open to focus on you. And he was glad he did as he watched you put your fingers in your mouth and lick up the milk he’d produced. Your eyes fluttered shut and you released a delighted moan at the taste and it sent a hot flash of need through Leon’s body.

“Please,” he begged, “Please, help me!”

You opened your eyes and looked down at him for a moment before dropping to your knees between his parted thighs. You pulled his pants down all the way to give yourself better access to his dick and Leon whined when you pressed a gentle kiss to the head.

“Keep milking yourself for me, babe,” you purred, “I’ll take care of this little problem.”

Leon couldn’t form a response. He simply obeyed and let out a pathetic moan as you began to suck him off the way you knew he liked. Not one to challenge your orders, he brought his hands back up and continued to massage the milk from his chest.

In the back of his lust-addled mind, between thoughts of just how amazing this was and how much he loved you, Leon realized this was insane. He was lactating because of an enemy drug in the middle of said enemy’s laboratory offices and now his wife was sucking him off while he milked himself.

Bizarre, yes. Hot? Unbelievably so.

You were working your magic on his dick and Leon was close far faster than normal. He pitched his hips forward with a groan and spilled down your throat without warning. After twenty years together, you’d learned how to take it easily, and you slurped up his cum greedily as always.

“Fuck, baby, fuck!” Leon cried out as his body twitched in the aftershocks.

You pulled away from his cock and soothingly massaged his thighs as he caught his breath, hands limp at his sides, nipples still leaking milk.

“Thank you,” he whispered eventually.

“My pleasure,” you teased as you stood up and kissed his forehead.

A pause.

“Wait, did you finish the mission already?”

You laughed lightly and stroked his cheek, “Baby, I was gone for an hour. It was a piece of cake, too.”

Leon breathed a sigh of relief, “Good, good.”

“While I was out, I did see a lounge with a comfortable-looking couch,” you said with a twinkle in your eyes, “And you have about five hours left of this serum…”

You trailed off knowingly and Leon felt his spent cock twitch again already with interest. He smirked up at you and placed his hands on your hips.

“Mm, this time, let’s get you naked as well, yeah?”

You grinned cheekily, “Come on, milkman, let’s go get freaky.”

Leon chuckled and followed you out of the room.

“I know,” you sighed, “Just… can’t wait.”

“You’ll be fine, baby,” Leon said confidently, “You worked so hard this semester.”

You clenched your jaw and refrained from arguing with him about it—you knew he hated when you disparaged yourself, so you chose to hum noncommittally in response, instead. Leon smoothed one of his broad hands up and down your arm soothingly as the two of you waited. As soon as noon hit, you pressed the refresh button.

Your breath left your lungs in a whoosh, and Leon pulled you into his lap to press a sloppy kiss to your cheek before you comprehended the grades on screen.

“I told you, sweetheart,” he murmured, “Kicked ass in every class.”

You began to laugh hysterically, tears accompanying your laughter as the stress of the past few months sluiced off your shoulders, leaving you suddenly light and emotional. The relief you felt was overwhelming, and Leon cradled your face against his neck as you cried. He murmured soft praises in your hair and kept one hand on the back of your head, the other caressed up and down your spine.

“Thank you,” you sniffled once your sobs subsided, “For everything.”

“Of course, baby,” he assured, “You deserve it. Besides, you do the same for me when work has me on my last nerve.”

Flashes of taking care of him when the T-Virus still plagued him crossed your mind, but you banished them quickly.

“Mm, you deserve it, too.”

Leon chuckled and gently tilted your head back to look in your eyes, “How about a vacation somewhere? I already put in my PTO for three weeks. I was thinking somewhere warm and beachy.”

“Beachy isn’t a word,” you teased, “But that sounds amazing.”

Things moved quickly after that and you knew, by this point in your relationship, that Leon would book everything and pick the nicest accommodations he could. You’d been surprised at first at just how much money he made fighting bioterror, but you had gotten used to it, and, well, who were you to question it when you reaped the benefits of it all the time. Even as you packed your suitcase for the trip, you noted how almost everything you packed was some expensive piece of clothing, courtesy of Leon.

Traveling with Leon, you were also struck by just how blessed you were. Since he was a government agent, he always managed to make sure the two of you were escorted through the airport like VIPs, and his fat paycheck meant first class flights. Again, it had been a lot to reckon with when you first experienced it, but now? You delighted in the stress-free experience. It was especially needed after the past few months of grinding for school.

But what you really needed came after you landed, after you stepped into the beach house, after you took a short nap.

What you really needed was Leon fucking you like he would never get the chance to fuck you again. Rough, deep, and all-consuming. He had you pinned to your stomach on the bed, his dick bullying your insides, his heavy balls slapping wetly against your lube- and cum-soaked thighs. You’d already cum twice, but Leon was nowhere near close to being done with you.

“Come on, baby,” he groaned in your ear, hot breaths puffing against your skin, “Gimme another, I know you can.”

You couldn’t respond verbally, too fucked out to form a coherent thought. You sobbed as your hole clenched tightly around him as another wave of pleasure rocked through you. It was almost embarrassing how your body had learned to obey him, by now.

“There you go,” Leon grunted, slowing down to pepper kisses along the back of your shoulders, “So good for me. Worked so hard for so long, you deserve to turn that big brain of yours off, sweetheart.”

Well, it was off, that was for sure. You barely kept up with what he was saying, and you nearly blacked out entirely as he began to pick up the speed of his hips once again. You wailed with overstimulation and clawed at the bedding, just barely holding on by a thread. Leon had always fucked you good, but after Elpis, he was a whole new man. A beast in bed.

“So, fuck, so good,” Leon huffed against you, “Gonna fill you up, baby, you ready?”

You nodded weakly, and that was all the man needed before he slammed into you a few more times before burying himself deep, spilling into you with thick spurts of cum.

His gentleness in aftercare was in stark contrast to the way Leon fucked you. Gentle hands carried you to the bathroom and helped you clean up. His kisses were soft as he set you back on the bed. His words sweet and reassuring as he helped you drink some water.

Afterward, the two of you sat on the swinging bench in back porch and watched the ocean. A moment of peace neither of you really had for a while. You were looking forward to the next few weeks of peace and quiet, with Leon by your side.

“What?” you blinked dumbly.

“Yeah, Jen and I made things official yesterday,” Leon said with a smirk as he sat (rudely) on the edge of your desk.

Your heart was shattering into a million pieces but you gave him a smile, “Oh, congrats!”

“We're giving it a month and then we want to introduce each other to our friends,” he continued as if he hadn't gutted you, “We're thinking a bar? Neutral ground. She said something about letting our friends mingle.”

You would rather eat glass.

“Sounds good! Just let me know when it gets closer.”

He gave you a smile. One that was genuine and soft and made your heart flutter like the lovesick fool you were.

Lucky for you, the conversation ended when you were called on a mission. Being sent to a remote part of the country to fight zombies was always a decent distraction from your romance woes. At least, while you were in the field. When you were en route, your mind buzzed with insecurity and helplessness. Fun shit.

You were on the way back to DC on a Thursday a few days later and that was when you decided:

It was time to let Leon Kennedy go.

You were grateful he had been put on mission while you were gone, as it meant you could go straight home after debrief. You negotiated a couple days off, too—admittedly surprised at how easily it was approved. Though, being a founding member of the fledgling DSO probably had its perks.

It had only been a year since it was founded and you smiled a little to yourself as you changed into your home clothes. A year since you, Leon, President Benford, and the others started the DSO. You were proud. You'd been in this job for five years now. Leon had even been your mentor back in ‘07 when you'd joined.

Wait, fuck. Don't think about him! You slapped your cheeks and shook your head in an attempt to banish the thoughts.

It was not successful.

With a sigh you glanced at the clock. It was only seven in the evening. Maybe you should go out? You debated it a moment. You were a bit tired from your mission, but you could really do with a drink and a distraction.

You hastily slipped out of the lounge clothes you'd just put on and changed into a cute, yet risqué, dress. The color went well with your skin and the fabric sat on your figure in a flattering way.

Maybe getting laid would help clear your mind.

(You knew it wouldn't, but desperate times, you know?)

You hopped in a cab and made your way to a bar. It was laid-back, a touch expensive, and just busy enough to feel full. Most of the patrons around you were probably government office workers—white collar schmucks making middle-class paychecks in some federal department or another. Not your type, but beggars can't be choosers.

You sat at the bar counter in one of the few empty seats and ordered your favorite cocktail and some pub fries. The wait for your order was agonizing. You hated sitting with your back to the crowd, unable to see the entrances and exits of the building. Between the music and the chatter, you wouldn't be able to hear if someone was coming up behind you. Damn. Maybe coming here was a bad idea. You envied the civilians around you and their naive sense of safety.

Your name being called had you jolting on your stool, hand flying to where your gun would normally be. You turned and saw a man sliding into the stool beside you. Oh. With a smile, you relaxed.

“Redfield,” you greeted, “Fancy seeing you outside of work.”

The man chuckled, “Just got back from an OP and I need to unwind.”

“I feel you,” you sighed.

The bartender returned with your drink and you stifled a laugh as Chris ordered a whiskey on the rocks. He noticed your amusement and quirked a brow at you.

“What?”

You rolled your eyes and sipped your cocktail, “Stereotypical drink, don't ya think?”

“Nothing wrong with the classics,” the man defended playfully, “Can't a man drink in peace?”

“You sat next to me, Redfield,” you chided.

“You don't strike me as the type who likes to drink alone,” he said, voice shifting to something more tender.

Your breath hitched. Oh. You'd only ever been around this man in a professional capacity, but he managed to understand you so wonderfully.

“You're right,” you conceded quietly, “I don't normally go out at all, but…”

You trailed off, but he hummed in agreement, nonetheless. A quiet understanding bloomed between the two of you. You worked similar jobs and lived in the same world of missions and zombies and corporate greed. Conversation flowed between you easily for the rest of the night and, for once, your mind was free of Leon Kennedy.

You were giggling by the time you stumbled back into your apartment with Chris’s lips attacking your neck. His big, warm hands had slid under your skirt to grope your thighs and ass, and you were happy to lean into his touches as you tried to lead the way to your room. The sex was playful and pleasurable and Chris was probably the best lay you’d ever had. You didn’t want him to leave afterward, either.

He lay in bed with you after you cleaned up, giving you that sweet smile he had as he held you close, snuggled on top of him.

“This was nice,” he murmured.

“Mm, more than just nice,” you agreed with a hum.

He ran a hand up and down your back, “Would you wanna do this again?”

Your heart skipped a beat and you felt anxiety creep into your mind.

“As in just the sex, or…?” you questioned.

“I liked drinking and talking with you, too,” Chris confessed.

You bit your lip and contemplated what to say. Chris was a sweet guy, and you did like him, but you knew you were still hung up on Leon, big time. That was something that wouldn’t be going away soon.

“I’ll be honest, I liked it, too,” you eventually said, “But I… there’s someone I’ve been into for a couple years and I’m finally trying to let go. He’s got a girlfriend now, so…”

You trailed off, self-conscious for having shared all that.

“I get it,” Chris said earnestly, “Really, I do. I’m, uh, in the same boat.”

That gave you pause.

“Really?”

He gave you a sad smile, “Yeah. She made it clear she’s not emotionally available for a relationship, but I’ve been hung up on her since, damn, the nineties?”

You balked, “Holy shit. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Chris urged, “You’ve always been nice to be around, and I was being honest when I said I liked everything we did tonight.”

You gave him a smile, “Sweet talker. You better pick a good place for our date. Keep this momentum going.”

He gave you a boyish grin, “Sounds like a tall order.”

“I’m sure the illustrious Captain Redfield can handle it,” you teased.

You chatted a bit longer before you started to drift off on his chest and, vaguely, you realized it was the first night in a long time you went to sleep without agonizing over Leon Kennedy.

He nearly leapt out of his skin at the question, eyes wide as he looked at you from where he stood by the bed to clean himself up.

"The fuck you on about?" he spat, "Daft woman."

You huffed. You'd expected such a reaction, but you were undeterred. You were used to his bitterness by now, and you were adamant in wanting an answer.

"You never fuck me face-to-face," you said pointedly, "It makes me feel rather hideous, if I'm honest."

Anger left him at your words, but the tension did not. He turned away from you and took a ragged breath. He did not speak.

"You're a right cunt," you insulted, feeling tears prick the corners of your eyes, "I've enjoyed this time with you, Clegane, I have, but I can't keep doing this if it feels like you don't even find me attractive."

You began to get out of his bed to leave, only for a rough hand to close around your bicep. You turned to snarl at him, but froze when you saw his expression. He looked like a beat dog.

"Do you really think I find you unsightly?" he rasped, "You, the pretty woman who treats me as more than some dog?"

You placed a hand over his where it gripped you, "Then why can't you look at me?"

"I didn't want you looking at me!" he declared.

The confession hung in the air between the two of you and it made your gut twist with something akin to guilt. You had known of his discomfort with his scarred face, but he never had given you a sense of just how deep his insecurity went. Until now, that is.

"Sandor," you said softly, "I would not lie with you if I did not find you attractive. You've always been a handsome man to me."

He scoffed as if he didn't believe you. Determined, you pulled him onto the bed and straddled his hips. With both hands, you reached up to cup his face in your palms, your thumbs brushed his cheeks, and your fingers lay on his mottled skin. He shuddered at your touch and averted his gaze.

"You are handsome to me, Sandor," you reiterated, "I want you. I want to see your face when we fuck. I've seen you angry. I've seen you laughing. I've seen you annoyed. I want to see your face when I pleasure you. Please."

"Y-you're an idiot," he retorted, though his voice was weak and his hands rested on your hips almost possessively, as if you leaving would be the worst thing in the world.

"So are you," you jabbed, "Now, look at me, Sandor. I mean it."

His eyes slowly trailed up your body until his gaze met yours. His breath hitched when your eyes met and you gave him a gentle smile.

"Watch me, love."

He obeyed. His eyes ravenously raked over your figure as you adjusted his cock beneath you so you could sink down upon him. Both of you moaned at the sensation and you knew this would not take long—both of you still sensitive from the previous round. Still, his eyes did not leave yours as you began to roll your hips atop his. The intimacy of the moment was heightened by that connection, and it only served to fuel your pleasure.

You could not help the way your moans rose in pitch as you approached the precipice, and Sandor's own loud groans joined you as he lay beneath you. When you finished, your eyes threatened to shut, but you stubbornly kept them open so you could watch his face as he came, filling you with his spend for the second time that evening.

He pulled you down for a kiss that said more than his words ever could. You could taste the thank you on your lips and could feel his affection for you on his tongue.

You felt the unspoken implication in his words and sighed. You hoped Leon never stopped being so caring, even if it was breaking your heart. His genuine care made you tempted to tell him what you'd been doing over the weekend, but you refrained—your thing with Chris was still too fresh, too new.

“I really did just want to be alone,” you said somewhat-honestly, “I'm fine, I promise.”

He still looked dubious, “Is it… did I do something?”

“No!” you exclaimed a bit too loudly for the office, “No, you and I are fine.”

He finally looked relieved, a genuine smile spreading across his lips. You loved that smile. Your heart fluttered.

“Ok, good,” he said with a nod, “When you didn’t text me over the weekend I thought—”

“I would tell you if you did something, Leon,” you reminded, “How long have you known me, huh? I don’t sit quietly.”

His smile grew, “No, you don’t.”

He said it with such affection that it hurt. He loved you, clearly, just not in the way you needed. Not in the way you craved.

Your small talk shifted to the missions you had been on, and you found yourself smiling so much your cheeks hurt. Leon was always dishing silly quips, but he was especially horrendous about them with you. It was endearing and it made your otherwise-boring time writing reports a lot of fun.

Your workday with Leon at your side was a little pocket of bliss, but your mind ran wild when you got home that night. You wondered what he was like with his girlfriend. Did he tell her the same jokes? Did he show her the same attentive care? Did he make her heart flutter like he made yours?

You cried yourself to sleep that night.

----------

The weekend arrived all-too-slowly. Work was a slog of endless paperwork and a fruitless daylong stakeout, and texting Chris throughout the week was your only respite. He made you laugh with his silly jokes and made your heart flutter when he flirted almost every other text. It was difficult to keep it from Leon, and you knew that he had figured out something was going on and was waiting for you to tell him. Maybe after he introduced his girlfriend in a few weeks.

His girlfriend which he was telling you about right now as you tried to focus on your stupid paperwork.

His girlfriend whom you were really starting to hate before even meeting her.

You knew something was off the moment Leon stepped into the office that Friday without even saying hello to you. He set his helmet on his desk with more force than necessary before dropping unceremoniously into his office chair. You could hear the worn-out springs of the seat groan in protest as the man groaned in frustration.

“Need a coffee?” you asked softly, noting the bags under his eyes.

He gave you a look that, had you not known him, would’ve made you think he was angry with you. His scowl was etched deeply into his features and you wanted to reach over to him and pull him into a hug.

“We fought last night,” he said shortly, voice acidic and biting, “I woke up in a flashback and she got pissed.”

Your first instinct was to call his girlfriend—Jan? Jess? Jen?—a bitch, but you refrained for Leon’s sake. Instead, offering him your proverbial shoulder to cry on. Though, if asked, you would offer him your literal shoulder.

“She knows what you do, right?”

Leon nodded, jaw clenched tight, “Yup.”

“And she still gave you shit for having PTSD?”

“She was pissed because it was three-something in the morning,” Leon sighed, “Said I scared her, too, with my shouting.”

“It’s not like you can help it,” you huffed in frustration, “I’m assuming you apologized for waking her up, so what the fuck else can you do?”

“I went and slept on the couch,” Leon admitted.

You paused, “Wait. Were you at her place?”

“No.”

At that point, you couldn’t help the glare on your face, “You mean to tell me, she gave you shit for your PTSD and then made you sleep on the couch in your own home?”

He winced and twiddled with a pen, unwilling or unable to look you in the eye.

“I just… I tried explaining it to her, but she got mad and called me ‘defensive’ so I just left. I needed space.”

The look on his face made you want to punch his girlfriend in her face. He looked so lost, so sad, it made you stand from your seat, walk to his desk, and wrap your arms around him, allowing him to bury his face in your tummy. He relaxed in your hold and gripped your shirt with shaking fingers. You felt him shake with quiet cries and you stroked his hair soothingly—quietly grateful that no one else was in the room.

“You deserve to be treated better than that, Leon,” you urged softly, “Did she apologize?”

A small shake of the head.

You sighed and continued to hold him.

“Wanna tell me about the nightmare?”

Another shake of the head.

You hummed an affirmative and held him close as you pretended, yet again, that your heart was not shattering to a million pieces.

----------

Chris Redfield couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he looked at his phone over his shitty BSAA-issued lunch. You’d sent him a picture of your own lunch, homemade and fancy, and made fun of him for not bringing his own lunch to work.

»You: I thought you’d be the type to meal prep, Mr. Muscle

»Chris: The food the BSAA gives us is designed to help us with our macros

»You: I bet

»You: The better the macros, the grayer the food, right?

»Chris: Obviously

»You: If you behave and play your cards right, I might be tempted to help you meal prep this weekend

»Chris: What does ‘behaving’ look like?

The smile on his face grew bigger as he flirted back and forth with you. He really really liked you, and he already loved having sex with you.

But yet…

“You ready to go?”

Chris looked up from his phone and gave Jill a small smile, “Gimme a minute to wrap up, then we can head out.”

Jill nodded and headed toward the meeting room, leaving Chris to sigh and text you goodbye before quickly finishing his lunch.

Guilt twisted in his gut when he saw your text telling him to stay strong in the meeting with the pharma execs. As much as he liked you, Jill still held the most space in his heart. He knew that you were in a similar situation, but he still felt almost like he was leading you on, like you were just a rebound for a relationship doomed to fail. And, as much as he wanted to move on and build something deeper with you, his heart refused to move on from Jill.

He wondered, not for the first time, who it was that had broken your heart. A civilian? Someone from work? His gut screamed that it was Leon, but he dismissed that thought each time it came up. Leon had confessed to him last year that he’d been in love with you for awhile, now, there was no way the blond man would be the one to break your heart.

With a sigh, Chris finished his lunch and headed to the meeting room. He forced you to the back of his mind begrudgingly and got to work.