Fresh-Faced Good Boy
He’s still that wholesome, eager-to-please guy. First day on the force, he shows up too early, shirt pressed, tie straight, coffee in hand for everyone. Literally everyone.
He’s the guy who says “yes, ma’am” to sweet old ladies and holds the door open for everyone at the precinct. Just an absolute ray of sunshine.
Dates Straight Out of a Rom-Com
Dates are wholesome af. Bowling nights where he tries to act cool but ends up laughing at himself when he gutters three in a row.
Weekend flea market strolls, late-night diner, watching old dramas and critiquing the procedures with a mouth full of popcorn.
He loves driving you around (despite being an ass driver). One hand on the wheel, the other reaching for yours. He’s totally the “I made a playlist for us” type.
Smitten as Hell
He falls hard and fast. Gets this goofy smile when he talks about you. His coworkers tease him mercilessly for it, but he doesn’t even deny it.
Always says things like, “You’ve gotta meet them, seriously...they’re amazing,” to literally everyone. You’re his favorite topic.
Overachiever
He’s still trying to prove himself, and that spills into your relationship. Plans perfect little surprises, keeps track of your favorite coffee order, and acts like any mistake on his part is the end of the world.
He’ll literally apologize for sneezing too loud around you. That’s how much he wants to be a Good Boyfriend™.
Softie
He gets along so well with kids. You see him talking to a little boy at the station one day, kneeling down to their level, asking about their toy dinosaur, and you just know: yeah, he’s The One.
Also, animals love him. He’s the type to stop mid-patrol and feed a stray cat, then text you a blurry picture like, “new friend 🐾”
Nervous Confession
The way he asked you out is SO awkward and endearing. He fumbles through it,
“I mean, only if you want to—like no pressure—just maybe dinner? Not like, dinner dinner—unless you want dinner dinner?”
You say yes, and he’s all boyish smiles, like he just won the lottery (he did).
He's Always Checking In
Texts like, “Hey, did you eat yet?” or “Let me know when you get home safe.” He genuinely cares.
Loves Being Domestic with you
Grocery runs with you are his idea of peak romance. He’s pushing the cart, tossing in snacks he knows you love, and grinning when you catch him sneaking in too much cereal.
Makes you breakfast on his days off. Pancakes shaped like hearts that are kinda wonky but made with so much love.
Officer Kennedy Is Kinda Bad at Saying No
People at the station totally take advantage of how nice he is. He’s always covering shifts, staying late, running errands.
You’re the one who gently reminds him, “You don’t have to say yes to everything, Leon.” He pouts, “But they needed help...” You roll your eyes, then kiss his forehead.
He's Weirdly Obsessed With Holding Your Hand
On walks? Holds your hand. Sitting next to each other? Pinkies linked. Driving? One hand on the wheel, the other on your thigh, or fingers laced with yours over the center console.
Says he just likes “knowing you’re there.”
Brings You Little Things All the Time
Coffee. A cute sticker. A weird magnet from the gas station. A rock that “looked kinda cool.” He’s always thinking of you.
You’ve got a growing drawer of “Leon Things” and every time you add to it, your heart gets a little softer.
He's Secretly Incredibly Sentimental
Keeps notes you wrote him in his wallet. Has a photo of you taped inside his locker. Saved your first voicemail and listens to it sometimes when he misses you. You tease him for being sappy and he just grins, shrugs, and goes, “Guilty.”
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content alert :pwp, pussy eating, oral (m/ receive), secretary leon x boss reader, smut, consensual relationship, fem reader! +I8 # MDNI
links 4 u : masterlist ! ☁️ ۰ movie star
secretary! leon, who follows you around all the time with a tablet in hand, jotting down everything that can be noted—obeying your orders like a little puppy. Simply waiting for your next command, doing everything without questioning, simply obeying yo
secretary! leon , who is extremely happy when he sees you happy with his performance. It is inevitable for him to feel butterflies in his stomach when you praise his development in the office—he holds a silly smile the whole time while you mention the parts that pleased you the most in his work, encouraging him to do even more for you. Seeing you praise him has become a desire and an incentive to follow all the orders.
secretary! leon, gradually, he has been inserting himself into your office, showing that you always need him and therefore having him away when you most need him could be detrimental to the progress of the business. So whenever you need him, he will be just a step away, fulfilling all your needs.
secretary! leon, who is attentive and always by your side, offering water, food, offering to turn off the lights, open the curtains, take a coffee break, or even give a massage—you don't refuse, after all, it's hard to be a boss, and that's why it's nice to be pampered, and Leon understands that better than anyone else.
secretary! leon, who understands that you deserve rest and that's exactly why he calmly goes to the door, locking it, closing the blinds and pulling your chair back and going under the table, kneeling on the floor while slowly lifting your pencil skirt , almost dying inside when he saw your wet panties waiting for him. He just pulls your panties to the side and rests your legs on the arms of the chair, burying his face in your pussy, sucking your clit while he feels you stroking his hair and praising him all the time ⸺͏͏ "good boy", "you are so good to me", "no one does it like you do". Leaving this poor man's dick hard inside his pants, almost exploding the buttons and zipper.
secretary! leon, who is hungry for your pussy, sucking and eating you as if she hadn't been touched for years, sticking his fingers in your wet hole and sucking fiercely on your sensitive spot while rolling his eyes feeling the taste of your cunt ⸺͏͏ his dick wetting his underwear all over time he feels your tight hole swallow his fingers and you pull his hair. He holds your legs tightly, burying his face in your cunt, quickly licking your clit while fucking your wet hole.
secretary! leon, who is a good secretary and will always comply with his boss's wishes, working overtime without complaining :)
leon just being so in love with you like you can TELL that man loves you by the way he fucks you
literally 🥹 this man cannot for the life of him stop after round 1 EVER, cause he just wanna keep feeling close to you, idk something about the way you moan prettily against his ear, your pants sending shivers down his spine, the way your warm pussy tightens up around his cock<333 he just wants to hold you against him MOREEEE, and you best believe he's thinking about you all the damn time too.
like it's not his fault his dick gets hard if you bring him flowers??? he doesn't wanna ruin the moment but you're just too cute and his heart is jumping around and he just wants to thank you by bending you over the table, dropping to his knees, and eating you out till you're seeing stars
leon gets JEALOUS and i mean jealous and it’s pretty obvious with the way he is with ashley in re4r, i mean luis just took her hand and he gave him a full on death glare like yes!! that’s what we want :3
>:) so i’m going to write something quick about this because hehehh i’m creasing right now
fpov + mpov.
having an incredibly possessive boyfriend is tiring sometimes but you definitely love it. another guy could just acknowledge you and leon would be seething, call it toxic or whatever but he’s willing to just lock you in a basement so that only he could see you, feed you, talk to you and touch you.
the other day during a walk in the park because it was winter and snowing, the big fountain in the centre pouring it’s icy cold water constantly providing a comforting sound as you held hands with leon.
but.. oh no, your keroppi keychain (that leon gave you) seemed to fall a few feet back without you noticing because you were too indulged in the conversation with your leon. a guy walking behind noticed and he picked it up, quickly jogging over and poking your shoulder.
leon noticed before you did and his smile immediately turned scowl as you looked up at the guy who apologetically smiled and handed you the keychain, saying ‘you dropped this.’
you sweetly beamed, super grateful because you could’ve lost this sentimental memento that brought you comfort at the very sight of it. how silly you were to not realise it wasn’t in your grasp! damn leon and his corny jokes that always distracted you.
“thank you so much!” you exclaimed, taking it a step all too far when you shook hands with the stranger, who gladly accepted and then said his goodbyes and walked away.
“god, i need to be more perceptive.” you groaned, not bothering to acknowledge the way leon’s eyes were narrowed, staring at the hand you touched the guy with. “i could of lost this! noo, not my keroppi.”
suddenly, you were dragged off the footpath with leon near the trees out of eyeshot, quickly pinned to the rough bark, leon’s iconic move: kabedon.
he glared down at you, tilting your chin up with his other hand as you looked at him in surprised. “leon?” you chirped, innocently.
“you didn’t have to fucking shake hands with that bastard,” leon hissed through gritted teeth. “couldn’t you just say thanks and get on with your life?”
ah, now you know.
“leon, seriously?” acting like you aren’t enjoying it, hiding the mischievous smile begging to paint your face. “it was like, for one second? get over it! it’s in the past now.”
leon grabbed a bunch of your hair, just how you like. he leaned in close, hot breath touching your ear making you shudder. “really now? or is it that you wanted to touch that guy? wanted to piss me off?”
you pouted a bit. “what? no! i was just thanking him, you’re being dramatic.”
leon grabbed both your shoulders, shoving you on your knees in front of him, face directly in front of his crotch and the tent in his jeans daring to be touched. he looked down at you, god, he loved seeing you so helpless.
“leon? stop, i don’t want to do this in—“
he shoved your face into his groin, biting his lip at the friction but keeping a stern expression. “what’d you say? didn’t fucking hear you.”
and then all he could hear were the pretty and wet squelches of your throat as he fucked it against the tree, your gags with his big, veiny hands wrapped around your neck effectively squeezing the sides to cut off your circulation.
he loved the sight of your eyes rolled back, nose runny and wet with bubbly slobber all over your face, he didn’t care who saw. you were his, right? he might as well make it known.
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He’s CLEAN but inexperienced
Not totally clueless, he's watched porn, sure — but when it comes to actual sex? He overthinks everything. Like fumbling with your bra while saying, “Is this okay? I don’t wanna… like, ruin the moment.” Because he’s so scared to mess up.
Blushes HARD when you touch him first.
Just run your hand down his chest or whisper something filthy in his ear? You’ll see the panic and the arousal fighting for dominance in his eyes. He’ll stutter and probably bite his lip to suppress a moan.
He cums so fast the first time.
He’s been thinking about it for weeks, jerking off in his bunk, imagining what your skin feels like, how you’d sound. So when you finally get your hand down his pants? It’s over. He’ll apologize like crazy, but god, he looks so good wrecked.
PRAISE HIM.
He’s practically a golden retriever in a cop uniform so if you tell him he’s doing good, that you love the way he sounds, that his cock feels amazing inside you? He’ll melt and grip your hips harder and thrust deeper without even realizing.
Defo loves oral but is shy about asking.
He dies to go down on you but he just doesn’t know how to say it without sounding weird. But once he’s there? He’s committed. Hands gripping your thighs, brows furrowed in focus, tongue desperate to make you cum. One taste and he’s addicted.
Loves when you ride him.
It takes the pressure offf, lets him watch you, touch you, learn your rhythm. His hands will roam everywhere, grabbing your ass, stroking your thighs, eyes wide and lips parted like he can’t believe he’s inside you.
His innocence is deceiving.
Sure, he blushes when you undress him, but catch that glint in his eye when he sees you naked. That breathy “holy shit” turns into rough hands and teeth grazing your inner thigh. He wants to be good, although when your legs shake around his head? He gets greedy.
“You always taste like this?”
“Shit, I could stay down here all night…”
He thinks about sex all the time now.
After the first time, you’ve corrupted him. He zones out on patrol thinking about how your mouth felt, how your nails dug into his back, how you said his name when you came. He’ll straight-up get hard in uniform and have to hide it behind a clipboard or his radio.
Secretly obsessed with being used.
Ride his face, tug his hair, hold his wrists down when he gets too eager? He’ll fucking lose it. He wants to please you so badly he forgets himself. Gets off on you using him — moaning into your cunt like it’s oxygen, begging:
“Please—don’t stop—just use me—fuck, I’ll do anything—”
𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: you thought your sketchbook was private—just a secret outlet for the filthy thoughts you could never say out loud, but now Leon’s got you straddling his thigh, while he makes you admit just how long you’ve wanted this.
𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: leon kennedy x afab!reader
𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨: explicit ahh smut, praise and dirty talk, overstimulation!!
𝘢/𝘯: hi guys!! how yall, i hope u enjoy this as much as i had writing this!!<3 creds for this idea goes to @pandoraslxna
The very last thing you expect when Leon crashes at your apartment for the weekend is for him to go under the bed.
You're in the kitchen when it happens, completely oblivious about your secret sketchbook you forgot to hide, barefoot, sipping wine out of a chipped mug, and trying not to think about how good he looks in sweatpants.
He’s in your bedroom, tossing his bag onto the floor with a grunt, probably pulling out a spare shirt for the night.
You hear it, the scrape of cardboard. The soft thud of something hitting the floor. A beat of silence.
Then,
“Hey, uh... Is this yours?”
You nearly choke on your drink.
You know exactly what he’s holding.
“Leon—don’t—!” You dart down the hallway, skidding into your room with horror blooming across your face.
He’s standing beside your bed, holding the sketchbook. The one with a tattered spine and no label, the one you forgot all about, out of sight and out of mind.
You snatch for it. He lifts it lazily out of reach. Typical.
“Relax.” He flips it open and pauses. “...Shit.”
Your entire body lights on fire.
“Give it back,” you mutter, lunging again. He sidesteps, one brow raised. He’s not making jokes—he’s just looking, looking at your deepest desries that were never meant to be seen by anyone.
You brace yourself.
“I didn’t know you drew stuff like this,” he says, turning the page. His voice is lower now, not teasing, not mocking..just curious.
You’re mortified. Those pages weren’t just erotic, they were detailed. Messy. Filthy. Every stroke of charcoal had come from some late-night ache, some suppressed desire you never intended to share.
Some were based on memories.
Some were just fantasies.
And a few, more than you’d admit, looked suspiciously like him. (because they were him)
“I use reference,” you blurt, trying to play it cool despite the red creeping up your neck.
“Well… this is a strange position.”
You don’t even have to look to know which one he’s landed on.
It’s one of your worst offenses, a sketch of a man who is definitely him, down to the slope of his nose and cut of his jaw, leaning back against a couch while someone straddles his thigh, head tipped back, hair messy, hands gripping his shoulders...that someone being painstakingly obviously you.
You curse under your breath.
Leon, for his part, just whistles low.
“I mean… damn. You even drew the veins.”
You nearly combust.
“Leon,” you whisper, “please stop.”
He looks at you, really looks at you. That teasing smile doesn’t fade, but his eyes change, they darken.
“Why would I stop?” he says, voice dropping. “You made this. You wanted someone to see it, right?”
You open your mouth, but he cuts you off—gently, but firm.
You’re rooted in place, heat rushing between your legs in a wave of humiliation and unfiltered arousal.
He steps in close.
“So, what—this how you imagine it?” he murmurs.
You suck in a sharp breath.
He grins again, this no mockery. Just heat.
“Can’t lie. It’s a good drawing.”
He leans in just enough that your breath catches.
“Real good.”
A pause.
“You’d be down to try it?”
You blink up at him,
His hand finds your waist. His thumb brushes just under the hem of your shirt.
“Could let you use me. Sit right here,” he murmurs, dragging a finger along the top of his thigh. “Just like your sketch. Bet it’d be better than your imagination.”
Your breath stutters.
He dips lower, voice barely audible now. “You get that needy for me, baby?”
You don’t even answer. You just nod.
His eyes drag over you slowly, and he steps back with a low chuckle.
“Thought so.”
He sits on the edge of your bed, legs spread slightly. Crooks a finger.
You hate how desperate you sound. Defensive and small.
He’s sitting on the edge of your bed now, one leg bent, the other outstretched like he belongs there, like this is his fucking idea.
Sketchbook still open on his lap, page still on the filthiest thing you’ve ever drawn.
And his gaze is on you.
“Come here,” he says, crooking a finger. “Go on. You drew it, didn’t you?”
You hesitate, and his brow twitches in amusement.
“Yea,” he murmurs. “You can draw it—but you can’t do it?”
Your breath catches hard. “That’s not—”
His tongue presses to the inside of his cheek. Smirks. “Nah, it's alright. S'cute.”
You swallow.
He leans back on one arm, casual as ever, while you’re standing there like your soul left your body.
“You look like you’ve never been this flustered in your life,” he teases, eyes scanning over your trembling hands, your parted lips. “Didn’t think I’d find it, huh?”
You shake your head, cheeks burning.
“Didn’t think I’d want it?”
Your silence answers for you.
Leon clicks his tongue, pats his thigh. “C’mere, artist. Let’s see if reality lives up to the sketch.”
And you don’t even remember stepping forward, but your knees hit the edge of the bed before you can think, and he’s already tugging you into his lap, positioning you just right, like he’s done this before.
Because Leon Kennedy? He knows what he’s doing.
And you’re about to find out that no matter how horny your drawings were,
they were nothing compared to the real thing.
“Breathe,” he says quietly. “You’re shaking.”
“I—I’ve never…”
“I know.” His thumbs brush under your shirt, resting on bare skin. “I got you.”
His thigh shifts beneath you, and God—even clothed, the pressure is enough to make your hips twitch forward.
You move, hesitantly at first. Just the slow drag of your hips forward and back, the thick pressure of his jeans gliding up your soaked underwear. It sends a tremor up your spine.
And then you feel it.
The hard swell of muscle right under your clit, so firm and flexed, like a rope of stone beneath your center. It presses into you perfectly with every roll of your hips, dragging sparks through your nerves.
You gasp, hips twitching forward again. And again.
Leon feels it. You know he does, because he shifts slightly, just enough to tighten that muscle under you, subtle but brutal.
“Oh my God—” you whisper, already breathless.
He exhales a short laugh, rough and low. “Yeah. You feel that?”
You nod helplessly, but your hands are gripping his shoulders now, knuckles white.
His hands steady your waist as you grind again, slower now, letting yourself feel every inch of him. The curve of his quadriceps tight beneath you, firm and unrelenting, like your clit is being rubbed raw against carved tension.
Each pass sends another pulse deep into your core.
“Wow..” he groans softly. “You’re fuckin’ dripping.”
He’s right, you are. Your soaked panties stick with every drag over that thick, veined muscle.
Your thighs begin to shake.
And then he flexes once again, on purpose and the friction sharpens into something devastating.
“You love it, don’t you?” he murmurs, tightening his grip to help you grind deeper. “How hard I feel under you?”
He notices. “There you go.”
You look at him, stunned, breath caught in your throat.
He chuckles, low. “What? Not what you imagined?”
Your voice is barely there. “It’s… more.”
Leon’s gaze darkens just slightly. “Yeah,” he mutters. “Thought so.”
He leans in, lips brushing your jaw—not kissing, just hovering. “Start slow,” he whispers. “Grind how you need to. Don’t rush it.”
You nod, and your hips move, tentative at first, dragging slowly forward, then back, rubbing yourself against the firm muscle beneath you.
You gasp.
Even through your underwear, even through his jeans, the friction is heaven.
“Fuck,” you breathe.
His hands tighten just slightly at your waist. “Yeah?” he murmurs, lips barely grazing your skin. “Feel good?”
You nod again, this time shakier. Your rhythm starts to find itself, slow, needy rolls of your hips that make the heat between your legs swell and pulse.
Leon’s watching you now, head tilted just slightly back, mouth parted. His eyes track every movement, every little stutter in your breath, every whimper that slips out when you hit that perfect angle.
“Look at you,” he says, almost reverent. “You’re really doin’ it.”
You whine softly, burying your face in his neck. “Don’t tease…”
He chuckles, really chuckles. “Not teasin’. I’m impressed.”
Another slow grind. This one makes your thighs tremble.
“Made yourself look so fucked-out in that drawing,” he mutters, lips now brushing your temple,
“But this?” His hand slides to your lower back. “This is better.”
You moan—quiet, desperate.
His hand drifts up, fingers curling around the back of your neck. “Yeah, that’s it. Just like that, sweetheart. Make a mess on me.”
You can’t stop. Your hips roll harder, deeper now, your soaked underwear clinging to you, every pass of his thigh hitting that sweet, sensitive spot that makes you see stars.
Leon groans softly. “You’re so...”
You mewl into his shoulder, clutching at his shirt like a lifeline.
“C’mon,” he breathes, hand pressing gently at the small of your back. “Get yourself there. You can do it.”
You nod, half-crazed with it now. Chasing your high, chasing friction, chasing that promise of release as your body pulses and grinds and stutters,
He grabs your hips. Holds you still.
Flexes his thigh even harder.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
That’s what does it.
You choke out a broken cry as your orgasm tears through you, hips jerking, thighs shaking. It’s overwhelming. All heat and sparks and sensation as you rut against him like you’ll die if you stop.
He doesn’t move. Just holds you. Supports you through it, his voice low, soothing.
“There you go, pretty girl. That’s it. Just like that.”
You collapse against him, boneless, face hidden in the curve of his neck.
Still catching your breath, but he isn’t.
Leon shifts beneath you, one hand sliding down, deliberate, knuckles dragging along your thigh until his fingers press between your legs.
He feels it. How wet you are. How warm. How you’re still pulsing from your high.
And he lets out this guttural sound from deep in his chest, low, wrecked, like he’s barely holding himself back.
“You soaked my fuckin’ jeans,” he mutters, and he grin. “Damn, you really needed this, huh?”
Before you can answer, before you can even blink, his fingers hook under your panties and shove them aside.
No warning and no questions.
Just a rough, greedy swipe of two fingers up your slit, dragging through the mess you made. (and he caused)
You gasp, hips jolting.
“Ohhh yeah,” he breathes.
He brings his fingers to his mouth, licks them slow, his eyes still on you.
“Always knew you’d taste good,” he says, almost to himself.
Then he lays you back like it’s second nature, hands hooked under your thighs, guiding you down flat, eyes scanning your body with this heavy, starving look.
He needed you so bad, so he leans in..
Lowers himself between your legs without a word, shoulders pushing your thighs apart, breath hot on your still-throbbing cunt.
A long, deep lick up your slit, from dripping entrance to your sensitive clit, and he groans into you like he’s tasting a 5-star meal.
You cry out, body arching, overwhelmed and raw.
“Stay still,” Leon mutters, voice thick against your skin. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Tongue flicking and flattening, lips sealing around you while his hands grip your hips tight, keeping you in place like you’ll beg before he lets you go.
Your thighs are trembling already, but Leon doesn’t care. He spreads them wider, holds you open with a palm on each thigh, eyes flicking up to meet yours.
“You better be lookin’ at me.”
You try—you really do—but his mouth is on you again, and it’s all so much. His tongue works in slow, wet strokes through your folds, pausing only to suck your clit into his mouth with maddening precision, which you enjoyed more than you'd like to admit.
You moan, head falling back, which he caught gracefully with his free hand.
A sharp smack lands on your thigh. Not hard, just enough to shock you back.
“Eyes on me,” he growls against your cunt. “You drew me so good, sweetheart. Want the next sketch to be accurate.”
You gasp, eyes flying open, and there he is.
Between your legs still, wrecking you with his mouth, cheeks flushed, hair falling into his lashes, tongue lapping at you like he needs it to survive.
You cry out as he dives back in, moaning into your clit. The sound vibrates straight through your core.
“Leon—fuck—it’s too—”
“No, it’s not,” he growls, grabbing your hips, pinning them down. “You came once. You can give me one more.”
You’re squirming now, thighs twitching around his head, but he doesn’t let up. One hand slides between your legs, two fingers slipping into you so easily, clutching around him.
Your moan cracks in your throat.
He groans, tongue circling your clit as his fingers curl just right. “So fuckin’ tight, baby. Gripping me like you need it.”
You’re panting. Wild. Eyes glassy.
“Leon—Leon, I can’t—please—”
He pauses just long enough to look up again, lips glistening, fingers still thrusting slow and deep.
“You gonna come again?”
“I—I think so, I—”
“Think?” His smirk turns cruel and gorgeous. “C’mon... You know how it ends.”
You whimper as your hips roll down into his face.
“Say it,” he demands. “Say you’re gonna come.”
“I’m—I’m gonna fucking come—!”
That’s all he needs.
He buries his face against you, tongue and lips relentless, fingers curling with ruthless precision. Your body locks, then shudders—hard, as your second orgasm crashes through you like a wave, a really big wave.
You sob out a moan, legs shaking, back arching right off the bed as he works you through it.
And only then does he finally slow down.
He pulls back, mouth still open, breathing heavy, licking the slick from his lips like he loved it.
Then his eyes flick back up,
Next thing you know, he’s hovering over you, hand still pressed to your thigh, body warm and heavy.
His lips are slick with you, chin glistening, flushed from the heat of it all.
Without a word, he leans up over you and captures your mouth in a kiss.
It’s so very unapologetic.
You taste yourself on his tongue, warm, salty-sweet, intimate, and it sends a fresh shiver through your spine. His hand cups your cheek gently, thumb brushing your skin like he’s memorizing you now that you’ve come undone beneath him.
There’s no teasing. No smirk. Just lips moving against yours like a secret.
When he finally pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, noses brushing.
Leon hums low in his throat, clearly pleased. “Didn’t even touch you properly. You're gonna kill me when I do.”
You barely manage a glare. “Shut up.”
He chuckles, brushing your hair back, eyes soft but still hungry.
