#lua's drabbles!

The build up to kissing you is slow, the way he stares at you like there’s nothing left in the world except you and the love he has for you. The way his hands roam oh so slow; starting at your waist and feeling their way up, stopping for maybe just a moment or two too long when they brush past your chest. The way his fingers dance over your collarbone is sure to send shivers down your spine before he amends the jolt by cupping your face in his hands, the heat from his palms almost scalding. He’s always either freezing or burning, never in between. 

All that for him to finally close the distance even slower, taking in the way your breath catches when he’s close enough for your noses to bump. He likes to hesitate just a breath away from you just to hear the exasperated way you huff out that gasp, just to make you sure you want it as badly as he does. Then his lips are on yours. Slow, but ravenous, light and pressing in deeper and deeper by the second. 

When he was younger this would’ve been the point where he’d start biting and licking, trying to invade your senses to make you want and crave him just as much as he did you. But with age came the ability to draw things out, the ability to linger and kiss you slow and deep to feel the way you crumple, even when you’re straddling his lap on top. 

He likes to pull away every now and then to tease you more. To watch the way you slowly lose your mind chasing after his lips. It only adds to the fun when you’re denied so much that you get desperate enough to bite and licking on your own, pressing and begging him to pick up the pace with a series of pathetic whimpers. 

Now there is the reward he was waiting for. 

He’ll only give it to you once you beg, his hands cupping your cheeks sliding to thread into your hair so he can angle your head, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip slow and playful before he takes advantage of the little gasp you let out and slips his tongue to meet yours, licking against your own to goad you into giving more and more to him. 

He hums low and deep when you do, the sound shooting straight down to your core and pulling a heady moan from you as well. He pulls back to suck and nibble on your bottom lip then, his free hand taking its sweet time finding its way under your shirt. His palm slides up your side the same way his tongue slides against your lip, his fingers rubbing over and pinching your nipple just as sharply as his teeth find your lip and clamp. 

The way you whine is everything to him. It kicks his heart up a few beats, makes him more just a bit faster as his hand trails down, rubbing up against your clit through your panties and feeling how damp the fabric is. That makes him groan against your lips, his cock throbbing against his pants with a desperation that surprised even himself. He didn’t think anything could get him that hard at this age. 

In his new found desperation, his lips trail down in a filthy trail from your lips to your neck, his teeth finding the same place his fingers had so delicately traced earlier to bite and nip, his tongue laving over the bruises he left to soothe. 

As patient as he could be about kisses, when it came to anything more, he really couldn’t help himself. Perhaps it was the aching need for intimacy. The need for physical closeness to feel emotional closeness. Whatever it was, it always made him act like a fool. 

His calloused hands working down your panties with as much gentleness as he could muster despite his hurried pace, his fingers poking, prodding, scissoring and curling to stretch you enough to take his cock. It was never enough in the end, though at times like this he couldn’t wait. 

Times like this, he remembers how much of his life had flown by in a blink. He remembers how many times he held himself back for the sake of others and how little he enjoyed life because of it. He remembers how little he cared for everything, and how much he cares for you now, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t a little desperate to show you. 

So he works you down onto his cock despite the rushed prep. He thumbs your cheek and whispers praises to soothe you until he can move. He starts out slow when he does, just to make sure you can really take it. Slow and hard. He works you down onto his cock, and when you can take enough, he thrusts his hips up into yours, making sure you can feel him buried inside you when you come down. 

He likes to watch the way your face screws up when he angles his hips just right, when his hands press you forward into him so he can more firmly grab your ass and spread you out from the back. He likes to watch the way all thought visibly drains from your head when desperation takes over and his hips snap into yours, when he adjusts the way he’s sitting and drills into you like the grip of your pussy put years back on his life and he’s young enough again to fuck you the way you need him to. 

He for sure likes the way you clumsily try to kiss him through all of this, the way you can barely keep yourself from moaning into his mouth as you meet with a clasp of lips and teeth, all messy yet so fucking hot that he can’t bear it. It takes everything in him from blowing his load then and there. You just clench around him so deliciously when you kiss, as if his lips against yours brought you the greatest amount of pleasure in the world. 

He waits until you get there first, working into that gummy spot of yours with scary efficiency and reaching down to thumb your clit so you break apart on his dick and he can follow. It’s only when you’re twitching and whining that he lets himself spill into you, his grip on you strong enough to bruise and his heart beating so fast in his chest that he’s worried he’ll have a heart attack then and there. 

He wouldn’t do that to you. Keeling over and dying after sex that good, he wouldn’t traumatize his girl like that. No, instead he works you and himself down, pulling your body snug against his as his lips find yours again, back to kissing slow to bring the both of you down from so much heat. 

Kisses with Leon after sex feels better than anything else. So grounding, so complete. So much like home. 

Leon tsks, shaking his head and pinching your hip gently. “Just because the wrapper is wrinkled doesn’t mean the candy isn’t sweet,” he replies, using that distinctly philosophical tone that he knows you can’t stand. 

You’re reaction was exactly what he expected: you doubling over away from his chest and lifting your hand to press over your mouth as you snorted and giggled, The sound of your laughter warms his heart more than he can ever express, and as your laughter finally dies down he eases you back against his chest. 

“Oh my god, don’t ever say that again. I did not teach you what that meant so you could use it,” You said, sighing and catching your breath from the sudden fit of laughter. You wiped an imaginary tear from under your eye and it had Leon rolling his eyes playfully, pinching your hip again. “What, so you can say that to me but me using it is a problem? Way to play unfair, sweetheart. You sure know how to strip an old man of his fun.” 

You swat at his hand, flicking some water at him in retaliation. “You’ll live, walk it off soldier," you joke, turning and glancing over your shoulder when you hear another grumble from Leon. His nose was wrinkled, a mock frown on his face that only widened your smile. “Y’know, I would walk it off if it weren’t for the fact that you’re holding me hostage in my own bathtub. Can’t even stretch my legs in here.” 

You sigh dramatically, pulling away from Leon’s chest again but this time to face him, sitting back on your knees on the other side of the (still not big enough) tub so he could have some space. “There. Is that better, Mr. Whiner? Go on and stretch your legs.” 

Leon snorts at your own dramatics but does take the chance to extend his legs, sighing blissfully. “Y’know, we could just get out and I’d have plenty of space to spread my legs,” he notes, leaning back against the tub and resting his arms on the edge. “And we both wouldn’t be prunes. You’re definitely getting a little wrinkly.” He smiles when you wrinkle your nose at him. Cute. 

“Yeah, but then I don’t get to see you naked and wet,” You sigh, finally revealing why you were so keen to stay in the bath even though your fingers were definitely starting to wrinkle. Leon raises an eyebrow, his smile growing a little wider. And a little more smug too.. “Really? Is that why you’re keeping me in here?” He asks, the teasing in his voice unmistakable. “Baby, if you want to see me naked and wet, just ask. It’s not like I’ll say no. Just let me get a little bit less pruney first. Prunes aren’t sexy, now are they?” 

You stifle a laugh by biting your lip, shaking your head. “No, prunes aren’t sexy, Leon. But I could make an exception for you,” you say, trying to keep a straight face and failing. Leon shakes his head, leaning towards your side of the tub. He brushes a kiss against your forehead and then against your lips too, taking your moment of distraction trying to chase his lips to pull the plug from the bath. 

“Don’t make an exception for me, baby. Even I wouldn’t make a sexy prune. Besides, if you stay in here, the super awesome totally rad and great Valentine’s day gift I have for you will go to waste.” His words have you perking up and finally willing to get out of the tub. 

Bribery always worked in the end. Especially when said bribery included a comically large rose bear and a delicate and definitely expensive necklace. Spending the rest of the night under Leon and then cuddled up with him after was just another bonus on top of all of that. What a great end to your Valentine’s day. 

Leon’s hands gripped your hips harshly, his nails creating crescent moons on your skin sure to discolor later. The contact with your skin was the only thing grounding him as you steadily bounced on his dick, his chest rising and falling with quick, shuddering breaths as if to compensate for the pace. “S-sweetheart, baby.. Don’t you t-think we could-fuck-use a break?” He asked, biting down the urge to pathetically whimper. 

It was early in the afternoon on some random Saturday when you had come to talk to Leon, seating yourself right down on his lap and getting all nice and comfortable. The brief talk led to your lips slotted against his, and eventually to you sinking down onto his dick with a string of pleased curses. 

This was nowhere out of the ordinary, if not for the fact that you just kept going. After an orgasm from the both of you, you had simply just kept moving, working yourself and him through overstimulation and into another orgasm and then some. He’s all but praying at this point that you’ll give his poor old dick a break and sit still. He can’t work it like he used to. 

You shake your head in response to Leon, barely even thinking as you lift and sink your hips onto his, your legs shaking and aching from the constant strain. “I c-can’t.. I want more,” you stutter, rendered a little more than mindfucked from the sensations. It’s a little hard to think when all of your attention is put into how good it feels to have Leon’s cock stuffing in and out of you, his cum burning deep inside you and leaving you wanting more and more. 

You felt like an addict for it. The burning stretch of his cock sinking into you, the way your stomach would warm and your pussy would clench around him when you got close, the look of bliss that softened his face and the warmth of his cum as it settled deep inside you. It felt wrong to go without something that felt so damn good in so many ways. 

It was what kept you going through the burn in your thighs, through the borderline painful clenches around his dick as it dragged against your insides, through the tears building in your eyes as sensation burned through thought in your mind. You wanted nothing else except more, and that meant terrible things for Leon. It probably didn’t help that you were ovulating too.. 

“One-one more, please? Fuck.. just one more, I’ll be good..” You babble, a hiccupy sob passing your lips as your head ducks, tears stain Leon’s shirt where they fall as your pace stutters, the ache in your hips catching up to you just as fast as another orgasm did. It’s sickening how much that turns on Leon, the sight of you, all pretty shudders and tears as you try desperately to fuck yourself on his dick, one hand rubbing your sensitive clit enough to pull more sobs from you. 

“O-One more..” His legs are shaking just as much as yours as he helps you, rutting his hips up and pushing your hips down until you're choking on sobs with every thrust. Any words you were speaking turns into a mess, matching the state of your brain as a familiar warmth spreads across your body. You’re coming before you can even call it, doubling over in Leon’s arms and shaking, sobbing and babbling something incomprehensible into his shoulder as he follows, his body twitching right alongside yours as he spills into you. Lord knows what number you were on now.

It takes a lot of soothing for you to return to a proper state of thinking. A long while spent still with soothing murmurs and kisses, a gentle massage in the shower and then a warm bath after, cuddling in bed after. He does everything in his power to make sure you’re both comfortable after all of that. 

“I don’t ever want to go for that long ever again..” You mumble somewhere in between sleep and consciousness, listening to Leon’s steady heartbeat and the chuckle that rumbles through his chest. “Yeah, that was a little hellish, even for you, sweetheart.” You huff a little laugh at that and nod slowly, falling further into sleep. “Just wait until the next time I’m ovulating..” 

Oh boy. 

~~~

The way you writhed on his tongue as it dipped into you, the way your back arched when he nosed at your clit, the way you whined and dripped all over his tongue like a sweet reward. You were beautiful. You were his everything and when he lifted his head from between your legs, his gaze told just as much. 

Leon stared at you like you were the last woman alive, like you were his last meal on earth and he was fucking ravenous. He’d happily accept if you were. You already had evidence of how well he’d treat you if you were, his face painted in every bit of your essence. 

He didn’t give you nearly long enough to enjoy the sight, not when he was oh so eagerly climbing your body with a filthy kiss to every inch of your skin before his lips met yours, his tongue licking against yours so that you could taste the same sweetness he just had. The way you moaned at your own taste was damn near enough to make him come on the spot. He needed to be inside you now. 

He broke the kiss only so he could crane his head down and watch as he swiped his tip through the mess of your folds. He leaked against you as he saw you twitch, hole fluttering and ready for him. Leon looked back at you and leaned in close, his forehead against yours. “Watch, baby,” he murmured, not moving until he was sure your gaze was between the two of you. 

It was only then did he move forward, making sure you watched every second of him sinking into you. The way your eyes rolled when he bottomed out made him curse low, his face buried against your neck as he laved over your skin with his tongue. He rocked his hips once, and with no protest from your mouth set a steady rhythm of drawing back and pushing forward with a punishing force. 

He pulled back to watch your tits bounce with each thrust, to watch the way your face screwed up tight when he angled his hips just right, to watch the way you scrambled for something to grab when his hand slithered down to rub tight circles against your clit with his thumb. 

Leon’s focus was entirely yours, his eyes roaming every inch of you like he could see past your skin into your very core. He was sure he could, truthfully. He could see what made you tick, he could see what it took to make you fall apart in his arms, and he was never above exploiting that. 

He was never above slowing his thrusts, rolling his hips in deep just to watch the way you tensed up like a pulled wire beneath him. He was never above moaning deep and heady when your nails found his back and raked with the intent to mark, never above leaning in to lap at the tears of pleasure that spilled from your oh so pretty eyes when you found yourself crying about being right there. He was never above getting you there before your mind could prepare for it. 

It was a mouth-watering sight, the way he gripped it firmly at the base, the same way he had your hair gripped in his other hand, not so gently pulling you forward as a cocky grin broke across his face. “C’mon, baby. Weren’t you oh so curious what I tasted like? What’re you waiting for?” His words were taunting, the way they dripped from his tongue was downright filthy and he knew it. 

He knew the effect he had on you. Saw the way your thighs pressed together every time he used that low, teasing tone. Was too aware of the way your heart picked up in its beating rhythm every time he got close. Hell, he’d even go as far as to say he loved the way you seemed to hold your breath around him, as if he was a threat and not a friend. 

To be fair, what friend acted the way he did? All teasing and flirting, low whistles and lingering glances, wandering hands and filthy compliments. He might as well be a threat. But fuck, it was a threat you were willing to take the hurt for. A threat that made your panties embarrassingly wet. A threat that so eagerly dropped his pants for you when you made the mistake of returning his flirting one odd day, and wasted no time in making sure you followed through with it. 

As a woman of your word, you let him lay his tip on your tongue, let him leak onto your tongue and look at you all smug like he’s giving you a treat. Honestly, he was. What better treat than your best friend’s precum? What better treat than him tugging you forward by your hair so you can feel the way his dick drags against your tongue as you take him deeper? What better treat than confirming that, yes, the weight of his dick on your tongue feels absolutely godly? None, that’s what. 

There’s nothing else in the world that could compare to the burn in your stomach as your tongue curled and caressed against him, to the way he cursed low and only leaked more on your tongue. It was intoxicating and so hot it was unbearable. It seems Dante thought the same from the way he kept nudging your head forward, urging you to lick just a little more, to wrap your lips around him and suck just a little harder. There were no complaints from you, not at all. Actually, there was an eager little hum from you as you sealed your lips around him, sucking and flattening your tongue against a vein on the underside of his dick until his grip on your hair tightened painfully. 

“Fuuuck, baby. Pretty little mouth was made to suck this dick, wasn’t it?” He taunts in a low groan, nudging you closer and closer until your eyes start to water. The taunt makes you squirm in place, the sharp ache in your knees nothing compared to the dull throbbing between your legs. You figure all propriety is off the table, and aren’t shy about slipping your hand down your pants, fitting your fingers between your puffy lips to tease at your hole in time with the way you suction around Dante. 

The sight made him harder than he already was, if that was even possible. He was sure you had the hots for him just as he did for you, but watching you touch yourself while sucking him off was a whole other kind of alluring. If he could take a photo to keep this moment forever he would. Maybe next time.. As for right now, he’s really fighting the urge to come down your throat like he’s a virgin all over again. It sure doesn’t make it better when you look up at him, all glossy eyes and clear desperation with your fingers working yourself. He can barely help himself when he puts his other hand on your head and pushes your head down, making you take him until your nose is buried in the bush of his crotch. 

The way you seem to lurch and hum in a light panic around him only spurs Dante on, his head tipping back as he rocks his hips into your face a little less than gently. Your free hand comes to rest on his thigh, bracing yourself as he fucks your face. “Shit, you look so pretty like this, baby. I would’ve done this sooner if I’d known you’d be this into it.” He rocks his hips forward in a particularly rough thrust, groaning when you gag around him and sputter. He suddenly forgot every single worry he had about blowing his load too fast. 

“You look like you’ve been craving my cock down your throat, huh? That right? Go ahead and tell me I’m right.” The hum of an attempted response you give makes Dante chuckle and tip his head to look down at you as pushes your head into his thrusts. “Yeaah, I know it is, honey. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it happens more often from now on.” The words are a sinful promise, enough to make you clench around your fingers and sputter more around his dick, your eyes finding his with a watery gaze that tells of how close you are. Greedy. Aren’t you supposed to be getting him off? He can’t truly complain, not when his grip is tightening around your hair and his thrusts are becoming more of sharp ruts against your face that tells of how close he is too. 

“I-I’ll give you what you need, baby. I’ll give you this dick any day of the week. Don’t even have to ask.” He’s rambling now, spewing promises of giving you every filthy thing you could ever imagine and the imagery is enough to make you see stars, coming all over your fingers with a roll of your eyes and a taut swallow of your throat around him in an attempt at a gasp. He curses, pulling your face flush against him when his orgasm hits him, his dick jerking in your mouth until you feel thick ropes shoot down your throat. You’re content to swallow it all when he pulls back all of a sudden, coming on your face as well. The jerk he is..  

You stare up at him with a less than amused gaze, panting against his tip when he wipes it against your lips with a smug grin and a borderline mocking pat to your head. “What, a little cum on your face is where you draw the line? Really? Didn’t realize you were such a wimp."

And just like that, the moment was lost. 

~~~

Leon seemed thrilled about your sudden change in behavior, looked a lot more at peace now that there was silence or his own voice filling the space that yours once filled. It’s crazy to say, but he even seemed more affectionate now that you were quieter. Time spent together was nicer and spent with less alcohol in his system, sex was sweeter (though not by much), and on rare occasions, he even gave you a compliment. Though the compliments were really just praise for how quiet you’ve been lately. He mentioned it a lot.. It was grating. 

There was no shortage of comments on how ‘you’ve been so quiet lately’ or how he ‘likes that you shut up more now’. You’d started keeping track at some point. As if it didn’t already suck that you had to deal with it in the first place. You’d come to a total of 54 times he’s brought it up so far. 

“Hey baby,” Leon greeted you as he walked in from an errand, a rare smile on his face. The smile you gave him back barely met your eyes but it wasn’t like he really cared. “Hi Leon,” You greet back, voice just as small as it had been these last few days. Before, this is usually when you would’ve asked him about his day, told him about yours and just basked in his presence. Silence was all he was met with instead. 

The smile remains on his face, but his eyes narrow at you in a split moment of skepticism and even annoyance. “Where’s the chatter, sweetheart? Don’t you always have something to say? What’s up? Sick of getting your mouth stuffed for speaking?” That makes 55. 55 times Leon had just complained, or ‘joked’, or just mentioned the silence he had caused. 55 times you bit your tongue and said nothing. Scratch that. 54 times you said nothing, and 1 time you finally had enough. 

“Wasn’t that what you wanted, Leon?” You say all too sharply, voice taut. Leon falters at the question, at the tone you use when saying it. He’s never heard you sound like that. Never heard you sound like you’re fed up. He’s only ever heard it in his own voice, so it’s a slap coming from you. “What?” He replies, his smile falling. 

“Wasn’t that what you wanted?” You repeat, each word enunciated with the hurt that was stabbing through your heart. It didn’t surprise you in the slightest when your eyes filled with tears, anger twisting with that same pain and exhaustion you had from walking on eggshells around Leon. It was no way to live. “Didn’t you want me to shut up? Weren’t you sick of the annoying bitch you were stuck with yapping your ear off?” 

You can see the way Leon’s face contorts as you throw his words from that night back at him, all teary eyes and sharp toned. Voice full of what he thinks is hatred and your eyes filled with even more of it as you look at him. “Tell me what you want, Leon,” you implored, unable to stop a sob from tearing out of your throat. You’re so angry, and yet so unbelievably sad. You loved him so much, but he was the worst person you knew. It was too much. “Do you want me to talk? Do you want me to shut my mouth? Am I your ‘sweet girlfriend’? Am I just what you use for sex? Make up your fucking mind!” 

Leon of course didn’t have an answer. He was never expecting to be confronted about his words or behavior. He thought you were too docile for anything like that. He was sorely mistaken and.. Maybe even a little guilty. He meant it when he said he loved you. But his way of showing love was awful, detrimental, toxic. He didn’t know anything else. He couldn’t show you anything else. In his mind, it was the best he could offer. 

So he didn’t give you an answer to your outburst. All he could manage was pulling your head against him in a low effort hug and an attempt to console you as you cried. That and an uncharacteristic plea for you not to leave him. 

What he wanted was you, no matter how bad it was. 

~~~

There was nothing he loved more than watching you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, licking the tip as your hand worked the rest. It was one of the few times he actually seemed like a loving boyfriend with the way he would stroke your hair and cup your cheek. The way he gazed down at you with such a loving gaze, it almost made it feel like he actually cared about you. Until he got impatient with the kitten licks of course. 

Then his gently stroking turned into less than gentle pushing, nudging the rest of his cock down your throat until your nose was tucked against the bush of his pubes. He kept you there, head tipped back as he relished the way your throat constricted around his dick so deliciously. He’d keep you there forever if not for the fact that you needed to breathe or something. 

He could only think of how annoying it was, you tapping his thigh, looking up at him with tears in your eyes, struggling to breathe around him. It was a little hot too if he was being honest about it, watching you struggle so badly. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t push your head down more just to see your eyes widen in a panic. He held your life in his hands and was toying with it like the sick fuck he truly was deep down. Fuck did it make him hard. 

At the very least he’s not a murderer so he lets you up for air eventually, watching in mild annoyance and amusement as you cough trying to catch your breath while his hand lazily pumps his cock. He reminds you to breathe through your nose and pushes you back down while you're still gasping to catch your breath. He doesn’t relent this time, shallowly thrusting his dick deep into your throat until you’re tearing up all over again. He told you to breathe, it’s not his fault if anything happens after that. 

He bites his lip, a groan tearing through his throat as he watches the way you gag and cry around his dick. “Through the nose, baby. You'll be fine,” he groans out, his head lolling to the side as he pushes your head a little further down. He feels you tapping his thigh again and sighs, shutting his eyes. 

His response to your need for air? Hooking his leg over your shoulder to keep you perfectly in place where he wanted you. You could breathe when he was done. “Through. The. Nose,” he grits out, making sure you feel his annoyance with every thrust of his dick down your throat. The longer you made a fuss about this, the longer it would take, and then the less you would breathe. Couldn’t you just take it for a few minutes more?

Leon bites his lip, grumbling curses about how selfish you are low enough that you can’t hear it over all your gagging and slobbering. To be fair, he didn’t really care whether or not you heard it, all he cared about was the fact that he was just a few thrusts away from spilling down your probably sore throat. 

He dug his heel into your back and tugged you impossibly closer, shoving your face down as his hips thrust up, balls slapping against your chin from the brutal pace he uses to fuck your face. 

His orgasm tears through him with white hot heat, his hips stuttering before falling into a much more languid grind, milking thick pearly ropes down your throat as you struggle to swallow it all. He’d say something nice about you before he ever let you spit what he gives you. 

It’s only when he feels completely drained that he drops his leg, letting you come up for air. He watches as you cough and sputter, hand cupped over your throat as if that’ll make the ache in it go away. He pets your hair lazily, rolling his eyes at your theatrics. He mutters some halfhearted praise for your work as he tucks himself back into his sweatpants, patting your head once more before clicking on the TV, turning it on loud enough to drown out your lingering coughing. 

He’d gotten what he needed, and you loved him enough to please him and not ask for anything in return, right? Right. 

"F-fuck.." Leon muttered, his head a swirling mess as he struggled a lot more than he'd like to admit to pull his belt through the loops. It wasn't easy to do with one hand, the other so deftly holding you down over the arm of the couch by your head. It surely didn't help his head that you were squirming. Crying too he thinks, it was all a little fuzzy. 

"Leon-" He let out a particularly uninterested grunt at the call of his name. He was more interested in working your panties down past your ass, sighing blissfully at the sight of your cunt, crying just as much as you were. Now there is what he wanted to see. 

"Mmm, shut up a minute," he sighs, releasing his hold on your head to paw at your ass with both hands, drunkenly entranced at the way the flesh gives and the way you clench around nothing. Such a pretty body, shame it came with such an annoyingly loud mouth. 

“W-what?” You gasp, your free head now jerking up and back to look at Leon with wide eyes. Oops, guess he said that out loud. He could’ve played it off using the alcohol as an excuse, but.. the look of horror on your face made his dick twitch. 

“You heard me, sweetheart,” he sighed, watching with rapt attention as he pressed his thumb against you and, groaning in delight at the way your cunt swallowed the digit and you twitched. “Tight ass pussy but all you do is whine. Is it fun? Yapping my ear off all day and night.” 

Was he being serious? He looked serious, but surely he didn’t mean what he said.. You shook your head with a stifled whimper, denying his words (to only yourself really, he did not care) as you planted your hands down on the couch, trying to stand. His words had ruined the mood for you. 

“Uh-uh, where do you think you’re going?” Leon grumbled, pressing a hand against your back and pushing you back down against the couch. He clicks his tongue, shifting his grip and pushing two fingers into you when you start to respond. It was a rhetorical question. “Aw, are you upset because I told you the truth, sweetheart? Is that why you’re trying to run away?” You sob in response, twisting underneath him as he pumps his fingers mercilessly, pleasing you with his fingers yet stabbing you with his words. 

“Y’know, I’ve thought like this for a while,” he confesses with a sudden fit of laughter, pulling his fingers out abruptly and watching the way your pussy clenches in their absence. He uses your arousal on his fingers to barely lube his dick, giving it a few pumps as he guides himself to your cunt, smearing his precum against you and your slick against himself. 

“Mmm, after I met your parents I realized I was stuck with the most annoying bitch in the world.” He leans over you as he pushes forward, the tight heat of your cunt ripping a groan from him. “All you ever do is whine and complain, baby. What, was daddy too busy neglecting you to teach you how to shut up?” He can’t help snickering at his own joke, his already sloppy rhythm stuttering as he fights the urge to just double over in his laughter. He can hear you sobbing and sniffling underneath him and he isn’t sober enough and can’t bring himself to really care if it was from pleasure or sadness. Is that awful? 

He’s silent for a moment as he focuses more on working his cock into you, hands gripping your hips hard as he ruts his hips into yours. His silence doesn’t last long though. “Fuuuck, would’ve dumped you ages ago..” he groans, hands slipping down to palm at your ass as his hips stutter, his body a little too heavy to keep the rhythm steady. “Pretty little ass and tight little pussy made me stay..” 

The bite in his words makes your head spin, tied between sadness and upset at his words and blinding arousal at the way he buries his cock into you. At this point it's hard to tell if you’re upset at him, or upset at yourself for feeling as good as you did. 

“Aw, don’t be sad sweetheart,” he coos mockingly, his soft tone accompanied with a sharp slap to your ass, making you jolt and cry a bit harder. The way you clench around him makes him do it a few more times, stopping only once your ass is red. “I still love you. Mmn, my pretty little girlfriend.” He groans, massaging the red flesh of your ass as his pace grows a little more frantic. There’s something so sickeningly pleasing about telling you the truth. It feels better than any sex he’s had. 

He leans down over you, one hand reaching around you to press against your clit, rubbing in tight, quick circles until you’re thrashing about, hands clawing at the couch. “If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t make you come, yeah? Yeaaah, ‘m a good boyfriend, aren’t I?” Good and deluded, maybe. But in Leon’s eyes, he was your gift from god. 

“T-tell me I’m a good boyfriend,” he pants, fingers still rubbing your clit despite your sensitivity. He was ready to keep at it until you told him what he wanted to hear. “C’mon, say it, baby.” 

“Y-you’re a good boyfriend..” You sob, your mind more of a mess than Leon’s was. You never were one for lies, so maybe the burning feeling of your orgasm tearing through you was really just punishment for the fat lie you just uttered, all for Leon’s satisfaction. That sentence is all it takes for Leon to come, his hips snapping into yours and stuttering forward before he stills, a string of curses falling from his mouth as he collapses over you, his heaving chest against your back. 

Silence settles over the both of you, sobriety knocking on Leon’s door from all the work he just put in, and he suddenly remembers that he just said a lot more than he probably should’ve. Before he can fake an apology, you speak up. “..I love you..” The words startled him something bad. Love? After everything he just said? Jesus.. He mutters a return of the words as he at least tries to right his wrongs by cleaning you up, blaming it all on the alcohol in his mind. 

But you were as sober as sober gets.. 

~~~