liah

“It’s a cute date- it’s a… date. Be normal. Everything’s good. You’ve got this.” Leon repeated in his head as he left the movie theater room beside you. He was trying —keyword: trying— to pretend that being so close to you wasn’t affecting him. His arm was around your shoulders, and he could smell your shampoo scent. Was that… vanilla? coconut? Anyways.

The rookie cop invited you to a date, the idea was charming, straight out of a dream: dinner and watching a movie in a cinema. You accepted without hesitation, secretly, you laid your eye on him since the first second you saw him. Little did he knew, you even asked the tarot if you two would be together.

He kissed your cheek when you both were in the street, saying goodbye in a cute way. But you didn’t want the night to end, and since your roommate wasn’t in the apartment, you grabbed his arm, telling him to stay, without pressure.

When you opened the door of your place, he sat down in the couch, looking a little bit uncomfortable…

Scared. Leon was scared as hell. He liked you too since he saw you, and he even practiced in front of the mirror how he would ask you to go on a date. Clearly he didn’t even imagined this scenario.

Plus, he doesn’t have any experience. What would he do if…? No.

The thing was… Leon was a certified, through-and-through virgin.

Since teen, his catholic parents told him that looking a woman with desire was a sin. Having “fun” before marriage? Sin. Jerking off? Sin. Once, he even googled “porn” in curiosity, and before clicking in any site, he remembered his parent’s face saying “sin, sin, sin.” He was a good boy, after all, he couldn’t disobey his father, mother and God.

You noticed him struggling, but not knowing why, so you sat down next to him, putting your hand in his thigh. “You… okay? need water, something?” you asked, but Leon just nodded, almost doing thumbs-up. Almost, because he imagined he would look like a loser.

He wasn’t okay, at all. He was being tempted by the Devil himself, and the only thing he could think about was your lips. How would they taste? Are they sweet like candy, or vanilla just like your hair?

He stared at them shamelessly, and you noticed it, hoping that he would do something with that, because you were dying for a kiss. But of course, he didn’t. He was pretty busy repeating in his mind “And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

You cupped his cheek, tilting your head, and finally… you leaned in, testing, at first. He froze for some seconds, almost dissociating. Did you really…?

Yep, Leon definitely didn’t thought about this scenario when he practiced how to talk with you in the mirror.

The first kisses were cute, Leon was trying to follow your lead, since he didn’t knew how to do it. But surprisingly, he was a very quick learner… and the innocent, cute little kisses quickly turned into a shameless make-out session.

And his hands started to get greedy. The kind of greed Leon read about in the Bible.

Still clumsy in eagerness, his hands touched your waist, then your hips, and shyly, he palmed your breasts through your shirt, making you gasp.

Between kisses you guided him to your bedroom. Your back hit the mattress since he pushed you softly, and he positioned himself on top of you, his legs locking around yours hips, his body making some friction against yours. Suddenly, he felt his pants tightening. What was that? He didn’t know, but he was sure he didn’t want to stop. He kissed your neck, your collarbones, your jaw, every spot he could. His lips found yours again now his tongue was dancing with yours.

Definitely, the rookie was a quick learner.

His bulge was making more friction, chasing that feeling. “So good,” you mumbled. This time, you rolled your hips against him. He was about to lose his mind. His hips jerked up instinctively as he kissed you in a messy, open mouthed and desperate way. Every roll of your hips made his cock twitch painfully, and Leon couldn’t help but gasp.

He was on fire, he never felt this way. Like he was burning inside.

Leon unbuttoned his red shirt and he took it off, seeking for relief. Oh, oh. He forgot he had it on: The prayer beads, a religious symbol. They slipped from his neck in that exact moment, swinging down close to your face. His gaze locked on the rosary for some seconds. He realized he was about to sin. He remembered the times his parents told him this was wrong, he remembered God and the Bible.

With a quiet sigh, he lifted the beads off completely and placed them on the nightstand. He closed his eyes, whispering, praying inside his mind, “Father, please forgive me.”

The prayer had barely faded before his mouth crashed back onto yours, hungrier than before. He was a sinner, but right now he couldn’t care less. He could confess it later in the church.

He was a gentleman, and he helped you to took of your clothes. In less than a minute, you both were completely naked… and Leon didn’t knew what he was doing, but he was getting carried away by the heat of the moment.

He was trembling as he hovered himself between your spread thighs. His untouched and veiny cock was already leaking pre-cum, leaving a trail in your inner thigh.

Finally, he positioned himself in your entrance, two bodies becoming one flesh.

“H-holy f-fuck,” Leon whined, his voice covered with lust and a little of shame, as his tip were pushing past your folds. You moaned as he stretched you open, and how wouldn’t you? he was bigger than you expected, filling you in a perfectly way, making your back arch.

“Oh god,” he groaned, burying his face in your neck. “It’s so warm… so tight. It feels like…”

Heaven: proper noun, where God lives, where good people go when they die, everyone is happy there. Usually, a catholic person imagine it being high up in the sky.

Leon always believed in heaven and its definition. But why did he, being inside you, felt like he was in it?

He stayed still for a long moment, trembling, fighting not to cum right away. It was too much, and he knew he would explode in any second.

But he wanted you to enjoy it, so the instinct took over, making his hips snapping forward in desperate thrusts that grew deeper and harder, fucking you in a messy missionary position. His bright and innocent eyes were dark with lust now.

In a few moments —seconds, sadly—, he felt a certain warmth pooling in his lower stomach. Was he about to—? He can’t do it inside. Even he knows what would happen if a guy did it.

“I’m close already,” he gasped. “F-f… God, I’m—”

He pulled out at the last second, his cock twitching violently against your abdomen as the first rope of cum exploded across your skin. Then another, and another, and it didn’t stop. Thick, heavy spurts that just kept coming and coming, painting your belly, your tits and even your collarbone in long and hot white streaks, far more than you’d expected. His balls draw up tight as he milked himself through it. “S-so much… I can’t stop—” Leon mumbled between moans. Of course that would happen, he had been saving it up for years.

He came for nearly fifteen seconds straight. You didn’t even complained about his hyperspermia, in fact… the sight was incredibly hot. His body paint decorating your skin… It turned you on more and more.

He finally looked down at your face, staring at the mess he made. “I’m so sorry… didn’t know it’d be like that, I’ve never let it out before,” he confessed, embarrassed.

It should be illegal being that cute while saying that he was untouched until now. He hid his face on your neck, and you petted his hair slightly, trying to erase his worries.

Leon, trying to recover from his climax, remembered some of the seven deadly sins, specifically greed and lust.

And right now, he was a fallen soul. A backslider, unrighteous in the eyes of God.

Yet, those thoughts didn't keep him from getting a boner again. Yeah, he was greedy and lustful, once he had you, he wanted more and more. Verdict: guilty of sin.

He slid back in easier, your pussy was even wetter now, all because the sight of his massive first load. This time his thrusts were more confident, even grinding against your clit with every roll of his hips. Missionary again, but closer: your legs wrapped tight around his waist, his chest pressed against your tits, his lips kissing you in a sloppy way. Your poor bed cracked under his powerful strokes. His balls felt heavy against you, full once more despite the ocean he just dumped on your belly.

You felt him swelling thicker inside you, the tip kissing your cervix, and that made you see the stars, obscene and pornographic moans left your lips. It wasn’t your first time having sex, you knew how you liked it. He was fucking you harder and deeper than before.

He felt how your walls were clenching around him, how you were cumming around his cock, and that made him felt weird.

Well… weird was an understatement.

“I… I think I’m gonna…” Leon tried to warn you but his second orgasm hit him like a freight train, unexpectedly. His hips stuttered, then slammed forward one last time. His eyes closed, his mouth opened in reflex, and a deep moan left his lips. He opened his eyes to look at you because he noticed something. “Hah— ah wait—oh shitshitshit— I’m cumming inside—“

The rookie couldn’t pull out, couldn’t make a proper thought. His whole body was jerking, as he kept whimpering and moaning intensely. Thick and hot jets of cum pumping directly against your cervix, pulse after heavy pulse. It felt like it would never end. Leon was flooding every inch of your cunt, his hyperspermia turning your insides into a creamy mess, even it started leaking out, creating a creamy ring around his cock. His hips kept grinding unconsciously, as if trying to push it even deeper.

“‘s too much— too much,” he whimpered, a little bit guilty.

You came again, harder this time. your walls were clenching around his dick, prolonging his orgasm. Leon collapsed on top of you, still buried to the balls, twitching as the last of his second load drained into your cunt.

His face was buried in your neck, breathing raggedly, his body was trembling from the intensity. “Sorry,” he whispered, between gasps. “I didn’t meant to, didn’t even feel it building… it just hit me and I couldn’t stop, I’m so sorry…”

chris stared at leon from the bathroom doorway, watching as he dripped something onto his hand before combing his fingers through his hair.

“is that…hair oil?

leon didn’t even look up. “hair serum,” he corrected. 

“alright, pretty boy, what’s next? face masks? cucumber slices over your eyes?”

“why? you wanna do some? I’ve got a few,” leon said, holding up a variety of sheet masks.

chris blinked. “...why do you have so many?”

“they’re moisturizing,” he shrugged. “my girl took all the brightening ones.”

leon said it so casually that chris had to stare at him for a second before breaking into a grin. leon gave him an annoyed look through the mirror. “what?” he scoffed.

“hair serum. moisturizer. lip balm,” chris pointed at the lineup on the bathroom counter. all the bottles were on a rotating caddy, courtesy of you, of course. he plucked a bottle from the shelf, squinting at the label. “cuticle oil? since when do you care about your cuticles?”

“since someone told me to take better care of my hands,” leon snatched the bottle away from him. 

chris barked out a laugh. “ain’t no way.”

“you don’t have room to talk,” leon said, organizing his caddy.

chris frowned. “what does that mean?”

leon turned around, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. he eyed chris up and down.

“my hair’s healthier. my hands are softer,” he smirked. “and I dress better than you.”

chris looked at himself in the mirror. “this shirt’s fine,” he said firmly. 

“shirt from ten years ago?”

“it’s cotton.”

leon chuckled beneath his breath.

“you know…jill might like it if you put in a little effort.”

that caught chris’s attention. “...you think so?”

“yeah,” leon shrugged. “my girl gives me something to look at, I might as well do the same.”

chris rubbed the back of his neck. “pass me the serum,” he said.

“no. you can have the moisturizer.”

masterlist

© lilacgrayskies on tumblr

“words, use them,” leon orders, though his tone stays gentle. his fingertips squeeze your legs, dimpling into your skin as not only a reminder that he’s waiting but a tender reassurance that although he’s giving you instructions, he’s not mad that you forgot to give him a verbal answer, “need t’hear it, baby,”

“yes,” you whisper promptly but much to your dismay leon clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shakes his head. confusion knits across your forehead as he cocks his head to the side and raises an eyebrow at you and it takes a second but once you get it, your cheeks flush, “oh—yes, daddy,”

leon chuckles at the deepened shade of red that paints across your face, “good girl,” he drawls, knowing that it’ll only make you get hotter underneath the surface of your skin. he separates your thighs slowly and with ease, letting them fall apart while he leans forwards to drag his lips over your body 

he starts at the side of your kneecap and works downwards, pressing soft kisses all the way down to your hip. a gasp catches in your throat as his warm breath fans over your bare pussy but he pays you no attention—not there at least—before he grazes his teeth over the inside of your other thigh

it’s not sharp or at all painful and yet, you jump and instinctively reach down to weave your fingers into his hair. leon knows what he’s doing and knows exactly how to rise a reaction out of you so when he pulls back to kneel between your thighs, he’s smirking something filthy and clearly very pleased with himself 

his palms push against your thighs, shoving them all the way back until the upper part of your legs are flush against your ribcage—a position you weren’t aware that you could be put into until leon came into your life. with your thighs parted, your pussy spreads wide with a little slick sound that makes leon grunt 

“fuck—there she is,” he groans fondly as his eyes flicker down to your core. his pupils blow wide and the blue of his eyes darkens with lust while his tongue darts between his lips. from your point of view, he looks like an animal admiring his prey, like he’s going to ruin you and swallow whole and knowing him, he just might

a whine erupts in your chest as you squirm under his gaze. you feel exposed, more than you ever have done before, but never once do you feel uncomfortable—leon always makes sure of it. his affinity for you and your body is one thing but his attraction to his inspections is another and it’s highly contagious 

heat blooms throughout your cunt and it’s very closely followed by the tell-tale warmth of slick that pools inside of and then overflows from your clenching hole. you moan breathily as you feel it trickle down your skin and watch as leon’s eyes track it until it soaks into the couch cushions beneath your ass 

“wet already—i haven’t even done anything yet,” leon hums a lie that causes you to wriggle. he has done something, he’s always doing something that has your cunt dripping with want. in fact, he could probably do nothing at all and you would still find yourself soaking—you’re just perpetually wet with him in your life

“have,” you correct him with a huff that’s petulant and annoying, though you can’t find it within yourself to care as your fingertips curl into the roots of his hair and tug. it’s a barely there pull and leon doesn’t really react to it but the second you do it, you regret it and know full well that you’ll pay for it later one way or another 

however—for now—leon ignores your touch to give you his own. against the most outer parts of your pussy, leon’s thumbs stroke outwards, stretching you even wider for his viewing pleasure. his eyes focus on your clit for a moment while it throbs and then flit down to your hole before he starts to blow cool air over you

it breezes up and down the center of your cunt slowly and in a straight line that connects his two main points of interest. bumps scatter over your thighs as a shiver runs the length of your spine and makes your entire body shudder, which is strange because you’re practically sweating with anticipation 

leon puffs even more cold air over you as he whistles low, “she’s real pretty, sweetheart,” he says, low and much too calm considering that his intense stare is directed right to where you’re clenching in a—so far, futile—attempt to entice him into doing something—anything

“yeah?” you breathe eagerly, indulging in his praise while actively searching for more. sometimes leon calls you greedy for it but the way it makes your brain fizzle with a pleasant sort of static is addictive. he knows just what to say and when to say it, knows exactly what you need to hear to keep you pliant and docile underneath him, so really, it’s all his fault that you want more

“yeah—prettiest little thing i’ve ever seen,” leon reiterates and before you have the chance to react, he dips forwards and wraps his lips around your clit in a sloppy—but fleeting—kiss. you hiss through gritted teeth as your thighs try to snap shut but leon is much faster than you

his extensive training works wonders for your sex life. he can predict when you’re going to move and can very easily prevent it before you’ve even managed to register that you're moving. his hands grab at your thighs, holding them in place against the couch, even as you writhe against him 

“don’t you dare—keep them there,” he orders whilst digging his fingertips into you harshly enough to leave small dotted bruises that you’ll find for days to come. he jerks his head away from your touch afterwards, prompting your hands to fall out of his hair, “hold them open—now, angel,” he huffs 

your whine gets ignored but you know better than to test his patience and so, your hands slide around your thighs and then slot into the backs of your bent knees—where leon’s hands were earlier—to do exactly as he says without a single complaint but definitely with a frown that’s very pointed 

after a moment of silence, a test that you pass with flying colors, leon  spreads your cunt wide again. his attention returns to your clit, that’s now covered in a glistening sheen of his spit, “bet she aches—huh—throbbing like that,” he purrs and ever so gently ghosts the pad of his thumb against you 

the simple sensation it creates causes your body to tense up and then relax back into it just as quickly while you hum a sound that’s something vaguely agreeable. your jaw hangs open and your lashes flutter against your cheeks as you indulge in the back and forth sweep of his thumb but then, it stops abruptly 

“words—i won’t tell you again,” leon warns 

“yes—fuck—yes, it aches so bad,” you blurt out through a moan that must satisfy him at least a little bit because his thumb settles back over your clit and starts to rub in little circles. your back arches away from the couch and another wave of slick spills from your hole to add to the puddle that’s growing under you 

“mhmm,” leon hums, laced with a faux type of contemplation that he often uses during his inspections, “that’s normal—especially since she’s so needy,” he mumbles under his breath and begins to take the circles wider and really draw them out whilst applying enough pressure to make your eyes roll back 

pleasure seeps through your veins and burns at the tip of every nerve ending that your body contains. short gasps and whimpers fall from the tip of your tongue and echo in the space around you while leon’s fingertips press deeper and circle ever so slightly faster above your steadily pulsing hole 

“she likes that,” leon observes when his eyes flicker down to see the evidence of your arousal, “what about this?” he murmurs as he takes your clit between his forefinger and thumb and pinches softly. a choked sob pulls from your throat and your thighs tremble against your palms—just more displays of your arousal for leon’s consideration, “good—and this?” 

every day—every single day—leon carries out the exact same inspection meticulously. the same routine, the same tests, and still, when his palm strikes your clit in a tame slap, it makes you flinch. by now, you should’ve learnt to expect it—you should remember it—but you never do. it always catches you off guard 

“fuck—oh my god,” you yelp as the spank stings your sensitive clit in the most satisfying way. your nails dig into the flesh of your thighs, creating half moon indents that’ll definitely hurt when your hand eventually shifts but you don’t care when leon soothes your twitching clit with a gentle kiss that makes you whine 

tears flood your waterlines and blur your vision of the older man, “perfect—as usual,” he hums as the shadowed shape of him leans to one side. you can’t see him properly but you can still feel his touch while he lightly bites your calf muscle and then relieves it with a kiss, “let’s see what else my girl has f’me,” 

leon’s thumb traces slowly downwards from your clit, eliciting your disgruntled whines over the loss of his touch against your demanding bundle of nerves. the presence of his thumb hovers over you and it’s dizzying to know that he’s so close but still not quite there. you could beg, could prove to him that you are greedy and insatiable but leon is already well aware 

he circles your hole slowly, outlining the thin and sensitive skin that has pulled taut with how wide your thighs are still stretched. your eyes clench and squeeze a fresh wave of tears over your cheeks while the breath in your lungs expels itself in a wobbly half whimper and half sob 

“she’s needy too?” leon coos, dripping with what anyone else would mistake for sympathy. it’s not that, it’s never that because it’s said with a smirk and a telling sparkle in his eyes. he’s loves watching you become ruined underneath him and as you do, you almost miss that he asked you a question

“oh god—yes,” you cry out as the slide of his thumb gets easy with the copious amount of slick that you have to offer. your pussy contracts with him that close to where you want him and slick coats his knuckles and fingertips, letting him inadvertently smear it across your thighs whilst his thumb orbits you

“god damn—pretty fuckin’ girl,” leon growls mostly to himself and whether he’s talking about you as a whole or just your cunt—you don’t know and you don’t care to ask, you whimper all the same anyway, “so messy and it’s all for me,” he groans and this time, he’s not asking, he’s stating—he knows it’s for him

still though, you answer, “all for you—always for you,” 

“yeah—i know angel,” leon chuckles at you working yourself into a state, even though he’s the culprit of it all. both of his thumbs brush against your pussy and set your body alight as he uses them to hold your hole open and make it gape, “bet she tastes real fuckin’ sweet too,” he adds, although it’s not an afterthought, while he licks his lips. animal. prey. 

you nod frantically. it’s all you can do as you fight the urge to let go of your thigh and pull him face first into your pussy with your fingers twisted deep into the roots of his hair. the mere thought of his tongue against you makes your hole weep and leon watches it happen as you watch cogs turn in his brain and then, he loses the battle he’s having within himself and dives in

he laps at your entrance like a—well, like an animal. it’s sloppy and messy, there’s no grace to any of it. he moans into you like he truly has just tasted the sweetest thing he has ever come across while your back curves and your fingertips struggle to find purchase against your thighs that so desperately want to clamp down around his head as he licks a stripe up to your clit 

around his mouth and the prickly stubble that covers his jaw is shiny with your slick and you can see it pooling on his tongue where he’s gathered it up just before he spits it lazily over your clit and watches it drip back down to your hole, “knew it—she’s always so sweet f’me,” leon grunts

each word is accentuated with a lick and a peck to your clit that rages a wildfire around your spine and winds the coil in your stomach a little bit tighter. it’s like electricity zapping through your body but it’s still nowhere near enough to satisfy you and you’re too far gone to think any less of yourself for begging 

“please—it hurts,” you sniffle pathetically as the space between your scalp and brain fills with cotton wool and clouds that refuse to let your thoughts make it to your mouth in one piece. leon appears to get it though, his eyebrow raises and one of his thumbs returns to slipping around your hole

“poor thing,” leon coos—no, teases—as he reverses the motion he’s doing to go the other way, “where does it hurt—can you tell me?” he asks and reaches up to swipe tears from your cheek with a knuckle on his freehand, “does it hurt here?” he questions, pressing the pad of his thumb deeper into your rim

your head shakes and your breath hitches. whilst what he's doing feels incredible, it’s not where the ache is beginning to tighten and pull at your muscles, “ah—okay—maybe here then,” leon murmurs and before your brain can work out what he said, his thumb pushes past your entrance and slides into your heat 

you make a noise—a moan, a yelp, a sob, any guess is as good as yours—over the sudden intrusion. there’s no familiar stretch and he’s still far away from the ache but it’s something, “deeper, i need—please go deeper,” you sob as leon shallowly thrusts his thumb into you, barely pulling out and barely going any further 

“ungrateful,” leon sighs and snatches his hand back, making his thumb slip free of your body with a wet pop. you want to wail and thrash as he takes the feeling that was dulling the ache with him but you can’t whilst you try your hardest to keep hold of your legs and keep air steadily filtering into your lungs 

“no—no, i’m just—daddy,” you stumble over your words and blink rapidly to clear your vision to be able to see him properly. your eyes burn and your cheeks are starting to get sore and you’re at the end of your tether with his teasing, “please—daddy—it hurts, need you to fix it, ple—”

your desperate ramble gets cut off and morphs into a strained mewl while your heartbeat pounds against your eardrums as two of leon’s thick fingers slide into your cunt with no preamble. you clench around him on instinct, trying to trap him there and suck him deeper—even though you can feel his knuckles against you 

the stretch that you so badly missed earlier comes now in an all consuming ignition that makes your eyes pinch shut and your lips form into a silent—oh. when your eyes eventually open, you jerk in surprise because leon is standing above you, hovering with his free hand clutching the back of the couch and his knees pressing into the backs of your thighs, nudging your hands away roughly 

“this what you wanted—did i find the ache, sweet girl?” he growls while your hands yank at his shirt to pull him lower over you. his fingertips curl deep inside of you to find that soft spot that only he can reach and can treat so well and when he finds it, he strokes against it—hard, “go on, answer me,”

wholeheartedly—you’d love to but you can’t. your jaw hangs and your eyebrows furrow as the air gets punched out of your lungs with every drag of his fingers. you can feel him in your stomach, up in your chest and everywhere else as you blink up at him and shake with your sobs—you’re ruined and it makes leon grin

breathy moans make your chest heave as the room around you fills with the sound of your sloppy cunt accommodating leon’s fingers as they start to plunge in and out of your pussy. with every thrust, he nails his fingertips against the ache that’s dull and bruising but so—so—good that all you can do is turn into a whimpering, whining mess underneath him

“oh—i know,” leon purrs when your eyes search his, “look how well she’s taking me angel, s’like she was made just for me,” he drawls with a voice that’s like honey while he lets you pull him even closer until the tips of your noses bump together, “perfect fuckin’ cunt on a perfect fuckin’ girl—fuck,” 

leon tilts his head before he’s finished talking and crushes his mouth against yours, causing his last word to muffle somewhere in between you and him as he gives you a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth. it’s not supposed to be a good kiss—far from it in fact. it’s raw and instinctual. an animal and his prey. 

your chin tips up to chase him into it as he laps over your bottom lip and then licks messily over the underside of your tongue before he pulls back and puts just inches of space between you, “stick it out—shit—yeah, just like that,” leon huffs when your tongue lolls out so that he can spit into your mouth 

he tastes like you. he tastes like your slick and your arousal and you didn’t realise it when he was kissing you but you realise it now as your head tips back and you moan wantonly. molasses replaces your veins, making your limbs heavy and your eyelids pull down until they’re closer to being shut than open but all you care to see is leon above you and that’s enough 

a gasp catches in your throat as his thumb sweeps over your clit in time with the unrelenting thrust of his fingers. the pace he’s set it unlike any other and if you use every bit of focus that you have left, you can see the veins in his arms popping and protruding from his tanned skin—it makes your mouth water 

“m’gonna need you to come, sweetheart,” leon pants as his eyes flicker down to the bulge in his jeans. he’s rock hard and straining against the denim but he never touches himself until he’s made you come—at least—once, “gotta make sure she can still take it—yeah?” he asks, though you know it’s not up for debate 

leon’s patience is thinning to a place where it’ll be beyond repair and truthfully, so is yours. his ask isn’t a big one, not when you consider the fact that every curl of his fingertips, every thrust of his fingers, every filthy wet sound that follows them, is hurtling you towards the edge of your orgasm 

he knows that though. he can feel the clench of your pussy and how your heartbeat thrums through it. he can feel your clit throb and twitch underneath the pad of his thumb and if that wasn’t enough, he can see your half lidded eyes and hear your moans as they come in quicker succession than they did before 

there’s something else though. something deep inside of you that has been building patiently through all of his touches. it’s a hot pit that pushes back against his fingertips as he seats them ever so deep inside of you and furiously makes a—come here—motion which pushes you right to the edge and almost shoves you right off of it 

your eyes blow wide and you scramble to sink your hands into the couch cushions to push the top half of your body up. the new position puts leon’s fingers at a slightly different angle, one that feels better than anything else you’ve ever felt and one that has you choking on a gasp that doesn’t let you get your words out 

“there it is—come sweetheart,” leon groans to finish you off. his words are distant as you willingly jump from the edge and tip your forehead against his chin. searing white flashes behind your eyelids and your eardrums thump while your cunt spasms around his fingers that don’t stop pressing upwards 

whatever he’s recklessly searching for, he must find with the flood of warmth that gushes from your pussy, “there—just like that—‘atta girl,” leon murmurs into your hair, still distant, as you keen and cry out but leon doesn’t stop even then and when your eyes flutter open with a struggle, you see exactly why 

the front of his jeans is soaked and the denim is stained darker from the seemingly never ending stream that he’s prying from your body like his life depends on it. your orgasm is starting to wane and overstimulation is lingering and waiting to pounce but you can’t stop, now now and not when leon growls 

“more—more—keep going,” he orders and your body begins to vibrate. you clamp down around him like a vice as your whimpers become nothing but a scratch in the back of your throat. it could be seconds, minutes or even hours of him wringing you dry but eventually, you have nothing left to give and finally, it ends, “good girl—did so fucking good,” leon whispers 

your body sags back into the couch with a thud and your thighs don’t even have the strength left to pull together, leaving your swollen cunt on display for leon while he carefully withdraws his soaking wet fingers. your body is a live wire but your brain has long since switched off and everything feels right, it feels good. even when leon slaps your pussy and utters,

“now—let’s see if she can do that around my cock,”

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LEON'S POV

"Fuck. I shouldn't be doing this." I thought as I stroked my leaking cock while admiring one of your instagram posts, my most latest infatuation.

I can't recall when my feelings arose. Maybe it was when I walked in on you and my son sloppily making out on the couch. His hands were grabbing at your ass through your tiny, slutty shorts as you sat on his lap.

Your position, your cute, soft moans...it was just too erotic for me. I felt my pants tighten and my hand subconsciously palming my crotch like the pervy old man I was.

My son was just about to lift up your shirt, but I knew that if he had seen your beautiful tits I would've came in my pants, so I loudly cleared my throat. Sorry, sweetheart, I could tell you didn't want the fun to end.

But, it was just as erotic seeing your flushed, embarrassed cheeks scrambling off my child, and my son whipping his head around and showed his dagger-like eyes. I could tell he was pissed, but I didn't care one bit. My son knew better than to makeout on the living room couch, especially when he knew I was home.

Or maybe it was when you got me that cologne for my birthday. I've always kept his life pretty separate from outside people, but knowing my son, he probably couldn't keep his mouth shut about this silly birthday tradition we share.

But it means something because you got me a gift. You found out, remembered, and got me a present. Whenever you're over, I make sure I wear it just for you, sweetheart.

God, you are so delicious that I had to find your Instagram. It was easy for me, thanks to my burner account and my son being a complete idiot and accepting my friend request. I like that your account isn't private, that I have access to your life I don't see. For example, I didn't know you're really into fan fiction. Reading it, writing it, you name it. Maybe even touch your cute little cunt to it.

Yes, I know about your Tumblr account. No, I will never tell you how I figured that out. You need to realize honey, I work for the government.

One night, I spoiled myself and decided to go through your likes. These blogs you frequent? Geez sweetheart, you're a dirty girl. You realize they aren’t private, right? Maybe that’s your whole plan.

My son wants someone simple. He thinks you're simple. He doesn't know shit. He doesn't know you the way I do. And seeing you, in this Instagram post with my hand wrapped around my cock, knowing all the things you fantasize about...god, it's going to make me come ropes.

THIRD-PERSON POV

Loud, muffled yelling makes Leon stop stroking and look toward the door. He moved off the bed, cock still painfully hard as he put his ear up to the door to hear better.

"You're a fucking asshole!" Leon heard you yell.

"I didn't mean it, trust me—"

"What? You didn't mean to get her pregnant?!"

Leon's eyes went wide. His son cheated on you? A pretty angel sent from up above, the girl that had him jerking off like he was young again.

That asshole.

"Oh, come on baby!"

"No! We're done!" Leon heard you stomp down the hallway. The front door suddenly slammed closed.

He should go out there and comfort you, apologize for his idiot son, and convince you that he would treat you far better than he could. But he couldn't. Not when his cock is still hard as a rock.

Leon wrapped his hand around himself again and slowly moved up and down, up and down. His head titled back and he bit his lip to try not to make a sound.

He backed up and sat at the end of the bed, imagining you laid across his lap, cheeks red from his hands, and your pussy engulfing his thick fingers.

Leon rubbed and squeezed his tip, his other hand going to his heavy balls and massaging the come out of them. You made him crazy, starved, and he didn't mind one bit.

Quiet whimpers escaped his lips, his eyes were violently squeezed shut, his chest heaved—he shot thick loads of his creamy spend. Leon sat there in his quiet room as he waited for his breathing to become normal again. He looked down at his hand covered in that white, sticky goodness and wiped it on his sheets. He'll change them later, or maybe he won't so he is reminded of how you made him feel, what you made him do.

Leon walked out of his room and collided with his son, who was throwing on his coat and grabbing his shoes by the door.

"Where are you going?" Leon's eyes followed him to the couch, where he was sliding on his shoes.

"Out."

Leon cleared his throat and crossed his arms. "I overhead some yelling, mind telling me what that was about?" He knew, of course, but it would be satisfying as hell to hear his son confess what he did. Like a man.

His son looked up from his feet, looking at Leon with a cold stare. He then looked back down and finished tying his shoe. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Leon asked.

"Nothing."

A small sliver of Leon felt bad for his son. It's been hard since his mom passed away a year ago. He's noticed different behavior from him.

His son stood up abruptly, meeting Leon's eyes. "I'm going out drinking with the boys." Leon turned and followed his son to the door, watching him get in his car and leave.

What an idiot.

LEON'S POV

I needed to do something. I needed to apologize for my son's incompetence. I needed to see you, standing in my foyer again, preferably with nothing on but it's okay if you are wearing clothes. I can be patient, sweetheart, I'm not a monster.

I can play the comforting father figure for as long as you need. I'll welcome you with wide, open arms, solve your sweet, little problems that you have, and wipe away your tears once I'm inside you, fucking you good.

I slid out my phone from my pocket and hovered over your number in my contacts. You had given me your number because my poor excuse for a child forgot his phone one night while you were out. I remember receiving the first text you'd sent me, well the only one as of yet. Just a simple, "Hey, it's me. Your idiot son left his phone and his wallet, so not only can he not contact anyone, but he can't pay for my drinks like a real man. So, in order to make it up to you for having to deal with his worthless ass, I decided to give you my number."

At least, that's how I took it.

My fingers did a dance above the screen. What did I want to say to you? Should I be blunt and tell you that I jerk my cock to the thought of you gagged with your own slutty panties? Yes, sweetheart, I've seen your panties. Lacy pairs, hot pink, cheetah print, see-through. Hopefully you haven't noticed that some are missing from your collection every time you leave our house. Maybe you think it's my degenerate son, but little do you know I love the smell and taste of your pussy. I rest your panties on my face as I choke my chicken raw. I know, I know, I am an old, disgusting freak, but I just can't help it princess, you're too addicting. I bet you wouldn't mind that I'm such a pervert, you're probably the same way. I can read all those dirty thoughts inside that pretty head of yours—

I'm getting side-tracked.

My fingers tapped on the text box, the keyboard sliding up awaiting for me to work my magic. I have magic fingers, sweetheart. You'll find out soon.

L: Hey, I heard some yelling before you left. Is everything okay? I'm worried about you.

See sweetheart? Nailed it.

Three dots pop-up on the screen, bouncing excitedly like they were anxiously awaiting your reply like I was.

Sweetheart: Yeah, I'm fine.

Liar. Dirty girl.

L: You know, he's not here right now. How about this, you come over and we can talk about it, or whatever you want. How does that sound? We can even watch that one movie you love but he didn't quite get...what was it again, Obsession? You can tell me all about it. I'll listen to whatever you tell me.

I've heard about that movie, Obsession. I've watched a few clips since it came out on streaming, and I agree with you. Fuck Bear. I'd never make you act like that for me, sweetheart. If you never could love me like I love you, I guess I'd move on.

Or kill myself.

Either way, I feel like I'm more like Nikki when she's under the influence of the Wishing Willow. I would kill for you, princess. I hope you know that.

Those three dots again. Leon looked up at the ceiling in anticipation. Come on, I know you want to, sweetheart.

Sweetheart: Wouldn't it be weird?

Oh, sweetheart. Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart. You're silly, you know that?

L: Not at all. I've known you for years now. It's going to be just two adults watching a movie together. Besides, he won't know.

He won't know. I will make sure he won't, honey. Besides, why do you care anyway? He fucked some other woman, and now he's her problem now. Thank god.

Sweetheart: I'm on my way.

I felt as if the clouds had lifted, or that maybe after all of this, there was an afterlife. You are my religion, sweetheart, and I pray to every vision.

To be honest, princess, I've never felt this excited in my life, with heat rushing from my head down to my toes. I rushed into my bedroom to spritz on the cologne you got me, then made my way into the bathroom to freshen up. I made sure to look my best, just for you.

When I heard the doorbell, I nearly jumped out of my skin. You know, I would peel off my skin and so you could climb in, and I could keep you close and protect you from the world's evils.  

I looked at myself once more in the mirror, taking in my aged appearance. I hope you don't mind that I am way older than you. I hope you could realize that my age is merely just a number—a number that proves I have more experience than guys your age, that I can treat you like the woman you deserve to be treated as.

I don't want to keep you waiting. I walked back out to the foyer and opened the door to be greeted by you. You are gorgeous, and no matter how many times I see you, I am enamored. You are the light in my dark life, sweetheart.

"Hey." I tried not to sound too excited, but the inflection in my voice said otherwise.

You looked up at me with your eyes—eyes that were glossy from tears, those tears that were caused by my son, and not from me fucking you into oblivion. I could just lick away your tears and kiss your eyelids, your lashes. You're beautiful, princess.

"Hey." You offered me a small smile, but you were hurting. Sweetheart, you know you don't have to hide it from me. I know my son is a jackass.

My eyes follow your body as you step inside my home. You look delicious in your tank top and shorts that it was making my mouth water. This heatwave has been living hell, but at least I get to see you wearing basically nothing at all.

I closed and locked the door behind you. "I'm going to get everything ready for the movie. If you want, you can follow me in there and tell me what happened." It was more of a demand rather than a suggestion, but I want to make you think you have a choice, sweetheart. And even if you don't tell me I won't pry. I already know what happened.

YOUR POV

I always thought my boyfriend's house was nice. It was clear his dad had money by the high ceilings and polished wood floors, but this time the house felt sterile, like if I made one wrong move I'd fuck everything up.

I sat uncomfortably straight at the kitchen island, wringing my fingers in my hands, and starring holes into Mr. Kennedy's back as he prepared popcorn at the counter. I've never hung out with my ex's dad one-on-one before. Is this wildly inappropriate? What if my ex finds out? I should've never done this, but I need someone to talk to right now.

"Thanks for inviting me over, Mr. Kennedy." I tried to say in a normal sounding voice, but it kind of came out in a meek mumble.

Mr. Kennedy looked over his shoulder and gave me a small, reassuring smile. "You're always welcome here." He turned his gaze back to the counter. "And you know you can call me Leon."

I nodded. I don't know if I can call him Leon. It feels too casual, too like we're friends. Not that we aren't, but it's just...he's an adult—my ex's father.

"Okay." I managed to say, my voice still barely above a murmur. "Leon." His name will probably always feel foreign rolling off my tongue.

"You drink?" Leon asked. He was now bent down at the fridge, looking back at me waiting for me to answer.

I blinked. "What?"

"Do you drink." He asked again. "You know...alcohol? You've had a bad day, thought you could unwind." He said it with a causal tone, like we were talking about the weather, like we've been friends for years. "Or I have soda, lemonade, water—of course."

I smiled, letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Water sounds good."

I saw Leon's smile outlined from the light in the fridge. "Coming right up." He grabbed a few things from inside the door, then shut the fridge.

I looked around the kitchen at the various knick-knacks that he has accumulated over the years. Mugs that sat in the kitchen sink waiting to be cleaned, notepads and pens complied in a cup by the landline (he still has a landline?) that advertised various companies, and the artwork from my ex when he was a child framed on the wall. It was sweet. Leon must really love him.

He slid over a glass to me. I took a sip and gave him a small smile. "Thanks."

"Of course." He motioned over to the living room. "Let's go sit."

I slid off the stool and walked in front of him to the living room. Maybe it was just my conscience, but I felt a gaze on me.

I plopped down on the couch as I watched Leon place all of our goodies on the table. I sat with my legs on the couch, trying to seem like I was not at all nervous about this whole ordeal. I stared at the black screen of the TV.

"So," I felt Leon's body next to me, "wanna watch the movie, or are you up for talking?"

I looked over at Leon. He was sitting close that I swear I could feel the warmth of his body. "I could talk." I leaned forward and grabbed my glass. "No offense, but I hate your son."

I bit my lip. God, I shouldn't have said that. But instead of Leon defending his kid, he laughed softly. "Yeah...he's..." He didn't finish his thought.

"Yeah, he..." I cleared my throat. "He cheated on me."

"Yeah, I heard. You guys weren't trying to be quiet."

My cheeks felt like they bursted into flames, and I know Leon could see them turn red in real time. "Sorry..."

Leon shook his head. "No, no you had every right to be loud. My son's an ass."

"You can say that again." I took a sip of my water.

"I will. My son's an ass."

I laughed softly and adjusted my position on the couch, turning myself more towards him and pulling one leg up under me. "We weren't doing well recently anyway, but...getting another woman pregnant..." I trailed off, looking back at the blank TV screen. "I feel bad for her, honestly."

I didn't hear Leon respond, so I looked back at him. His eyes were glued on to me, offering me a comforting expression, urging me to continue. "I don't know. Men suck."

"We do." He responded, smooth and quick.

I dramatically groaned. "But why?" I flopped my head on the back of the couch, and turned my face to look at him.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Leon's lips. He shrugged and took a sip of what was in his own glass. "I can't tell you exactly why. I'll admit I did some shitty things when I was around your age. For me...I wanted to prove myself."

I lifted my head, and cocked it to the side. "Prove yourself to who?"

"Myself." It was Leon's turn to look at the TV. "Being in your twenties is a lot of convincing yourself that you have it together." He looked back at me, his eyes softening. "But you don't, no matter how hard you convince yourself. I still don't have all my ducks in a row and I'm going to be in my fifties."

I relaxed into the couch, feeling my nervous system relax in one sweep. This was nice and nothing I was expecting while driving over here. "I think I'm going to take a break on dating. Maybe I just need to take this time to find myself, and realize that I'll never have it all together."

"That's good." Leon took a slow sip from his glass. "You have time for all that nonsense later."

I squinted at him—his casual body language sprawled on his couch, his strong shoulders, his pronounced biceps peaking through his rolled up sleeves. The arm that just moved to rest against the back of the couch, almost like he was preparing to touch my shoulder and pull me closer to him. "You know...it's just crazy."

He put his glass down on the coffee table. "What is?"

I leaned back into the couch. "I can't believe you two are related. You're nothing like him. You actually have self-awareness."

Leon paused for a moment before he let out a soft laugh. "Thanks, but I didn't always. Trust me."

I furrow my brows as a smile spread across my face. "Yeah?" I sat up, kneeling on the couch, and turned fully to face Leon. "So what kind of shitty things did Leon get up to in his twenties?"

Leon leaned closer to me, a smirk planted on his face. "Now why would I go and ruin my squeaky-clean reputation?" He asked, his voice dropping down to something low and playful. "You already think I'm the sensible one, so why would I ruin that title?" I saw his eyes drop to my lips, realizing our close proximity.

My breath hitched, but my body leaned in closer. "Oh come on, Leon. I promise your secret is safe with me. Besides, who would I tell? Your son?"

He huffed, and turned his face. Even without him looking at me, I could tell he was smiling.

"Besides, I like a little mystery," I shimmied my shoulders playfully, "a little edge."

Leon looked back at me, his gaze dropping yet again to my lips. His sparkling eyes met mine. "I thought you were here to talk about your breakup that happened..." He trailed off as he looked down at his watch, the back up at me, "just an hour ago? What happened, sweetheart?"

My cheeks were probably redder than before now. "Sweetheart?"

"Don't try to change the subject." Leon leaned in closer, our noses barely brushing against each other. "You're not thinking about him, are you now?"

I smirked, without flinching. "Who?"

I saw Leon's face light up as he dipped his head down, a low laugh rumbling in his chest. His eyes looked up at me through his lashes, before he sighed and moved his head back up, his face still inches away from mine. "I was twenty-one. Just got my job at the station." He trailed off, his eyes going distant and cold for a brief second.

I watched him, noticing the change in his energy, and gently placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Leon blinked, looking back at me. "Where was I?"

I removed my hand. "You just got your job at the station." I reminded him with a soft voice.

"Right. I don't know if you know about what happened in Raccoon City."

I shook my head. "I don't think so. I'm sorry..."

"No, it's fine. It was probably before you were born anyway..." Leon took a moment to collect himself before continuing. "This epidemic spread through the whole city, and I was the man on the job."

"Yikes."

"Yikes indeed." He murmured with a faint, wry smile. "I met two amazing women during it though. Two of the strongest women I've ever known."

I nodded, very intrigued. "So...what happened?"

"Well you don't see them around, don't you?"

A soft, sympathetic chuckle escaped my lips at his dry delivery.

"I still think about both of them from time to time." Leon admitted, his voice softening. "Wonder if they're doing well, have families..."

"How was this shitty? It just seems sad."

"Fair point, I guess I was just trying to butter you up before I confessed that I committed unlawful murder." Leon deadpanned.

I gasped and covered my mouth, letting out a booming laugh. Leon laughed along with me, watching me with bright eyes.

"But..." Leon's laugh quieted down and his serious demeanor returned, "the shitty part was how I handled everything. And not just these women—with everything."

"And how did you handle things?" I asked.

Leon's eyes dropped to the space between us, staring at the cushion where my hand is resting. A heavy thoughtful silence stretched out.

"I didn't." He admitted, his eyes rising to lock back onto mine. "I focused on my work. Convinced myself it was better that way."

"And are you?" I asked, my voice was more like a breath in the small space left between our faces. "Better off?"

Leon took a slow, deliberate breath. The cool composure he'd held all evening began to melt. "No." He whispered.

I offered him a reassuring smile. "That takes guts to confess, Leon."

I watched as Leon bit his lip, taking in mine yet again. When he looked back up at me, the look in his eyes was different. "I...I'm different now. Older, wiser."

I nodded. "Okay."

"I'm a man now. I know how to treat women how they're supposed to be treated. Women like you."

My eyes widened. Women like me? "Me?"

Leon shifted his body so that he is turned towards me. "Sweetheart." He grabbed my hand that was still resting on the cushion, interlacing out fingers. "You don't even know."

I squeezed his hand back, the breath catching in my throat as the heat of his palm sank into mine. My heart was hammering against my chest. I was sure he could hear it.

"What don't I know?" I whispered.

Leon's gaze dropped to where our fingers were locked together, his thumb slowly tracing the back of my hand with a quiet, deliberate rhythm that made my skin tingle.

"How irresistible you are." He murmured as he looked back up at me. "Sweetheart, you're so gorgeous. Do you know how hard it is for me to even be near you?"

A soft exhale escaped my lips. "Leon—"

"I'm serious." He said softly. "You deserve someone who wants to treat you right, who needs to treat you right. And you're sitting right in front of him."

I shook my head softly. "When...when did you—"

"Since you started dating him." Leon answered.

"That...that was two years ago."

"Two years too long, if I say." Leon squeezed my hand harder. "Sweetheart, you don't even know half of what you do to me."

He grabbed my hand and placed it on his growing length straining against his pants. A strangled groan ripped through his chest as my palm encased around his clothed cock. "Fuck..." His head fell against the back of the couch, his eyes squeezing shut as his jaw clenched tight. "Just this...this alone can make me fucking come."

I let my fingers curve around him, slowly sliding my hand down the hard ridge of his erection through the fabric. "Leon...you're bigger than he is..."

Leon let out a sharp, ragged moan, his eyes snapped open as he stared down at my hand. "Sweetheart..."

Before he could finish the thought, I gave him a slow squeeze. A gravelly growl rumbled from his chest. His hands shot out, wrapping them tightly around my waist. In a fluid motion, he lifted me entirely off my knees and pulled my right into his lap.

The breath was knocked out my of my lungs as I felt me flush against his hard cock. I let out a soft gasp, my hands scrambling up to grip his broad shoulders to steady myself.

"I've always wanted you like this..." Leon rasped. "God, you're driving me fucking crazy, sweetheart."

"Leon..." I whimpered, my fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as I instinctively rolled my hips against him.

His large hands cupped my hips, guiding me on his length. "Fuck!" He growled, before crashing his lips into mine. The kiss was hot and heavy with years of built-up discipline finally snapping. His tongue parted my lips effortlessly, tasting me fast and desperate while one of his arms wraps around my waist and presses me against his hard chest.

A moan escaped my throat into his mouth. I wrapped my arms around his neck, dragging my fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, anchoring myself to him. He moved me rougher and faster against him.

Leon groaned into my mouth, a sound so raw and masculine it made my clit pulse. He felt like iron underneath me, with broad shoulders, dense muscles, and a heavy, surging warmth that left zero doubt about how much he wanted this. And that was good because I've wanted this too. So bad.

He broke the kiss for a fraction of a second, just long enough to drag his mouth down the sensitive line of my jaw, his hot breath searing against my skin. "I'm gonna come...are you gonna come? Please come with me, baby."

I nodded and whimpered. I am so close, which is slightly embarrassing because I usually never get off this fast.

He thrusts up into me and I feel my eyes roll into the back of my head. "Yes—god, yes, Leon." I gasped out, the friction through our clothes was so intense, so fast, that every nerve ending in my lower belly was coiled tight, right on the edge. "I'm there...I'm right there!"

That was all Leon needed to hear. Leon let out a dark, guttural groan, his thrusts turning fast and sloppy, hammering his hips up against mine with no restraint. He held me locked against him with one arm clamped like a vise around my waist, his other hand coming up to tilt my chin back so he could catch my broken whimpers in another filthy, consuming kiss.

"That's it, sweetheart." He rasped, his voice vibrating deep into my mouth. "Give me it."

He thrusted up and hit me in the right spot to instantly push me over the edge. A sharp, breathy scream caught in the back of my throat as my cunt violently clutched as my orgasm crashed over me.

The sound of my release completely destroyed Leon. His back arched, his whole body locking up underneath me. A shattered moan escaped his lips into my neck as he bucked hard one last time, pressing his hips flush against me as his own orgasm hit him.

I soon felt dampness pool around my uncovered thighs. I looked down and a big wet stain covered his whole front.

"Fuck..." Leon panted. He pressed soft kisses along my jaw and down my neck, breathing erratically. He paused and lifted his head up. "Are you alright?"

I nodded. "Y-yeah..." I panted and pushed back my hair.

"Good. I'm not done with you yet." He gently placed me on my back on the couch. He let out a rough laugh. "I can't wait to get you out of this. I can't wait to see your body."

Leon didn't waste another second. His fingers grabbed the hem of my tank top, swiftly pulling it off me, and tossed it aside. His gaze traveled over the valley of my breasts as a quiet exhale escaped him.

"Goddamn, sweetheart." Leon rasped, grabbing one of my breasts in his hand and rubbing your nipple with his thumb. "You're so sexy." He leaned down and licked a wet strip up my stomach to my other nipple, taking it in his mouth, softly grazing it with his teeth.

I gasped, my back arching off the couch as his teeth grazed over my hard, sensitive nipple. I felt a hot wave roll through me, every muscle tightening in an instant to the friction of his tongue and fingers.

My hands gripped the edge of the couch, my knuckles turning white. "Leon..." I whimpered, my voice breaking.

He chuckled against my breast, the low rumble vibrating directly into my skin. He gave the nipple one last lingering flick of his tongue before switching places with his fingers on the other breast.

"You like this, baby?" He murmured against my ear, his breath hot and ragged. "I'm going to make sure every single inch of you feels good tonight."

Deliberately, Leon's hands shifted from my chest down to the waistband of my shorts. His fingers unhooked the buttons and dragged them down my hips in one smooth, unhurried motion.

My breath hitched as his eyes trailed down the full length of my body, taking in every curve, dip, and shiver that ran across my skin under his intense stare.

"Look at you..." He lowly murmured. "God, you're so sexy, sweetheart."

He dropped down to his knees between my thighs on the couch. His large hands reach out, resting against the sides of my waist before sliding slowly down the outside of my legs. His thumbs smoothed over the soft skin of my inner thighs, parting my knees wider until I was completely open for him.

Leaning in, Leon pressed a lingering kiss to the soft skin of my inner thigh, biting and sucking the fleshy skin till it turned purple. "I swore to myself, if I ever had you, I'd take my time with you." He said into my thighs.

He looked up at me through his lashes as I felt his nose press into my wet panties. I gasped, the heat of his breath soaking right through my damp fabric of my underwear. My fingers dug into the cushions as the firm direct pressure of his nose against my cunt sent a sharp jolt straight down to my toes.

Leon let out a low, heavy groan against me, inhaling deeply as if he were memorizing the scent of me. "God, you smell so fucking good," he rasped, his voice muffled against the silk.

He dragged his nose slowly up the center of my panties, tracking my wetness until his lips found my swollen clit through the fabric. He pressed a warm, firm kiss right over it, that made my hips violently jerk off the couch.

"Fuck!" I cried out, breathless.

He chuckled against me, the vibration sending another wave of warmth throughout my body. His large hands slid over my thighs, to pin me down right where he wanted me.

His fingers hooked into the sides of my panties, and pulled the fabric gently to the side, exposing my slick directly to the cool air of the room.

I let out a soft moan as I felt his thumb move up to slowly circle my clit. "Leon..." I softly moaned out. This felt so good, better than my ex, his son, ever did.

Leon looked up at me, his eyes tracking the frantic rise and fall of my chest, before he lowered his head between my thighs.

He slid two fingers past my slick entrance, sinking deep into my cunt in one slow push.

A choked gasp tore from my throat, my back arching completely off the cushions as the sudden, overwhelming fullness stretched me open.

"Fuck, you're tight." Leon growled, his voice thick and rough with restraint. "So wet and tight for me, huh?"

He stayed still for a long second, letting my body adjust to the feel of him inside me before his thumb started up again, making small, agonizingly slow circles against my clit. Then, with a slow tilt of his wrist, his fingers curled upward.

"Ah! Leon!" I cried out, my hands flying to his hair, my hips helplessly thrusting up into his hand.

"That's it, baby." He moaned, watching me squirm beneath him. "That's right."

Every curl of his fingers built the tension back up in my lower belly. I was already writhing on the couch, completely at the mercy of his hands.

"You're close." Leon observed. "Don't come until I tell you to, sweetheart."

I whimpered in response. I couldn't muster up words to say to him.

Leon leaned down near my cunt, his face hovering inches from me. He slowly pulled his fingers from inside me, pulling a moan from my lips.

"Look at me, sweetheart." He rasped, his warm breath searing over my flushed skin. "I want you to watch me while I taste you."

Before I could even process his words, he dipped his head fully between my thighs. His tongue made first contact, taking one long, agonizingly wet swipe up my cunt to my clit, before diving his two fingers back deep inside me.

A guttural moan tore from my throat. Leon chuckled low against my skin, my cunt squeezing around the sound. He set a devastating rhythm, his tongue swirling around my sensitive spot, flattening against it, flicking and sucking with an effortless, experienced control, all while his fingers curled hard and deep into that exact spot inside.

"God...Leon!" I whimpered.

Unlike his son, who had always been clumsy and focused on his own finish, Leon knew exactly where to stroke and lick, exactly how much pressure to apply, and exactly how to pace himself to keep me right on the edge of unraveling. He lapped at me with long, wet licks, his tongue swirling around my clit with a mesmerizing rhythm that made my hips tilt up into his face on instinct.

"You like fucking my mouth, huh?" He murmured into my cunt. "You like fucking my face like the dirty girl you are?" Leon chuckled at my moans and whimpers. "Fuck...come for me, let it all out for me, baby."

"Yes, god, yes!" I sobbed out, My knuckles were so far into his hair that I could probably rip it out of his scalp. "Fuck...Leon, right there."

Leon latched onto my swollen clit, taking it between his lips and applying a soft, steady suction while his fingers thrusted into me. The pleasure was instant and completely overwhelming. I cried out his name, my thighs trembling against his shoulders as my core clutched rhythmically around nothing, as my eyes rolled back.

I felt my release pour out of me and heard it drip onto the leather couch and pool underneath us. Leon rode out every single spasm with soft, soothing licks, sucking and lapping up every last drop like he was dehydrated.

Leon locked eyes with me as he wiped his hand over my slick thighs gathering up the excess wetness of my release. Without breaking eye contact, he brought his hand up to his mouth and licked his fingers and hands clean, his tongue slowly tracing over his skin to taste every drop.

I let out a shaky moan and let my head fall back onto the couch. My chest frantically rises and falls as I try to catch my breath.

"I need to fuck you." I heard Leon say. I blinked looked back up at him. His shirt was already discarded on the floor.

If you would've told me that I would see my ex-boyfriend's dad shirtless, I would've slapped you silly. He was still in good shape despite his age. It must be from doing the work he does. Fighting crime, or whatever he does.

What does he do exactly?

Before the thought could even fully form in my brain, my eyes took their time mapping him.

His broad shoulders tapering down to a tight waist, his bulging biceps, his chest and abs cut with deep, defined lines that shifted with every heavy breath he took. A dark trail of hair disappeared straight down beneath the unbuttoned waistband of his pants.

"You're unbelievable," I blurted out, my voice raspy and completely dazed as I stared up at his chest.

Leon let out a low chuckle. The corners of his eyes crinkled with a dangerous sort of amusement. "Glad you like the view.

He unzipped his pants and shoved them down his hips in one swift, efficient push, taking his still damp boxer briefs down with them.

My breath caught dead in my throat, and my eyes followed it with every movement it made.

Holy shit.

I couldn't stop my eyes from widening. Leon was massive, heavy, and slick at the head with his own come from when we humped, and his clear precum that was dripping from his tip. Veins ridged the entire length of him, throbbing with a heavy, steady pulse.

To compare Leon's to his son's would be unfair competition.

"You like what you see?" Leon took a step closer until the heavy length of his cock was resting right against my trembling inner thigh.

"I..." I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "You're massive, Leon."

"And it's all yours tonight." Leon rasped. He leaned down, pinning my hands above my head on the cushions with one palm, his fingers interlacing with mine. The sheer weight of him hovering over me was intoxicating, trapping me between the plush leather and his warm chest.

His free hand reached down between us, his calloused fingers gripping the base of his shaft. He guided his slick head right to my entrance, lining himself up against my swollen lips.

I gasped as he pressed forward just an inch, testing the stretch. The blunt head nudged past me, and the sheer thickness of him had my legs instantly shaking.

"Look at me." Leon commanded, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly vibration against my ear.

I forced my heavy eyes up to meet his gaze.

"I'm going to slide all the way in." He murmured, his thumb rubbing over the back of my knuckles as he slowly pushed another inch into my tight heat. "And you're going to take every single inch of it."

A long, trembling breath escaping my lips as he began to enter all the way inside. My back arched off the couch, and my legs shook as his fullness stretched me open.

Leon kept his eyes locked on mine, forcing me to watch him as he steadily drove his length forward, inch by agonizing inch.

A high, breathless whimper tore from my throat as the sheer size of him filled me to capacity, my inner walls stretched taut around his girth. He was so much larger, so much thicker than anything I had ever felt before.

"Fuck, baby..." Leon grunted, his jaw clenching hard as his hips pressed flush against mine, burying himself to the absolute hilt.

"Look at how good you take me." He rasped into my ear, as he looked down at him being swallowed by my cunt. His thumb comfortingly stroked the back of my hand, keeping my fingers pinned above my head.

"God, you feel so tight around my cock." He growled. Leon stayed still for a long, heavy second, letting my body adapt to the sheer stretch of him filling me to the hilt.

He slowly began to pull back, dragging his cock out until his tip was left resting inside my entrance, holding me right on the edge of emptiness.

"Leon, don't..." I pleaded, my voice cracking.

"I've got you." Leon whispered, and then drove back in with one deep, heavy, relentless thrust that hit every sweet spot at once.

My head thrashed back against the sofa as a loud sob of pleasure broke from my lips. My toes curled tight, my walls instantly clamping around him in a desperate, greedy rhythm.

"That's it." Leon groaned, setting a slow, agonizingly deep pace that rocked my entire body with every slide of his hips. "Take me, sweetheart."

I moaned out strings of incoherently curses and cries as Leon picked up the pace. My fingers gripped on to his, pressing my nails deep into his palm.

"Tell me," Leon commanded, his voice a low, gravelly rasp against my ear as he pulled in and out in a fast, steady rhythm. "How do I feel inside you?"

Tell me," Leon commanded, his voice a low, gravelly rasp against my ear as he pulled almost all the way out before driving back in, slow and mercilessly deep. "How do I feel inside you?"

I gasped, my fingers straining against his grip where he had them pinned above my head. The sheer depth of his thrust had my mind going entirely blank, every nerve ending focused entirely on the heavy, relentless stretch of him.

"Leon..." I cried out, tears brimming my eyes.

"Open." Leon demanded, pausing his hips long enough to hover right above my face, roughly grabbing my jaw with his free hand.

I furrowed my brows slightly, but parted my lips like he wanted me to. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned down and spat directly into my open mouth, his grip on my hands tightening just enough to keep me still.

"Use your words." Leon rasped, his thumb dragging across my bottom lip, making me swallow. "Tell me how much better this is. Tell me I feel better than my son ever did."

"You're...so much better," I whimpered out, my voice cracking under the weight of his gaze. "Leon...you feel so much better...so much bigger than him..."

I squeezed my eyes shut, my words just spewing out like vomit. "I've always wanted it to be you...fuck! I've always thought of you!"

I heard Leon chuckle. "Good girl."

Leon pressed my body against the leather cushions. The heavy, wet slap of skin echoing through the quiet room was deafening as he drove his thick length all the way inside me, bottoming out with every single thrust.

My hands flexed fruitlessly against where he had my wrists pinned above my head. Every deep, punishing surge of his hips hit the right spot inside me.

"Look at you." Leon groaned, his breath hot and ragged against my neck, watching my face completely undo itself beneath him. "Clenching so tight around my cock...taking me so good."

"Shit!" I screamed out, my back arching completely off the couch, my legs trembling violently against his ribs as my orgasm crashes over my body, my mind, my soul. I haven't came this much ever.

Leon drove into me three more times, before buying himself balls deep, and holding himself pinned inside me as his own orgasm struck. I felt his hot, thick come paint my inner walls. His grip on my wrists finally loosened, his hand coming up to cup the back of my neck as he pulled me up against his chest, burying his face in the crook of my shoulder as we both tried to catch our breaths. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the ragged breathing shared between us and the quiet ticking of the clock on the wall.

Slowly, Leon eased his weight back, pulling out of me, that drew one last, exhausted whimper from my lips. He didn't move far, resting on his knees between my legs as he reached over to pull the throw blanket off the back of the couch, gently draping it over my trembling body.

He wiped a thumb across my wet cheek, clearing the stray tears, his expression unreadable as the heavy reality of what we'd just done settled into the quiet space between us. He rested his head on my shoulder, and wrapped his arms around me.

"So." I said, trying to ease the tension. "I had fun."

"Yeah." Leon gave me a genuine smile. "I did too."

I looked up at the ceiling, closing my eyes. "We didn't even watch the movie."

I heard Leon laugh, so I looked down at him. "We can still watch it if you want."

"Nah." I turned my body carefully to face him. "Would it be crazy if I said I wanted another round?"

A smirk grew on Leon's face. "Not at all."

"I mean, can you even keep up, old man?"

Leon's eyes glint, raising a brow. "Old man?"

"forty three next month."

"leon that is not old—"

"tired," he said again with a finality. he turns a page.

you stared at him. "you're seriously choosing a book over me."

"it's a good book."

"i hate you," you said pleasantly, and went to the bedroom.

the toy had been a recent purchase. you'd mentioned it to him once, held it up, and he'd looked at it and then at you and said "hm" in a tone that gave you absolutely nothing to work with. you took it out now with the energy of someone trying to make a point. you tried to not be petty, to be mature.. quiet and  dignified.

you managed to… for about four minutes.

it felt good and you were frustrated and four days was a long time and the sounds started soft and then got considerably less so, and somewhere in the back of your mind you were aware of this and didn't particularly care anymore.

leon read the same sentence five times.

he put the book down. picked it up. put it down again.

sat there listening to the sounds coming through the wall with an expression doing several things at once.

then he got up, walked to the bedroom, and leaned in the doorway with his arms crossed.

you looked up at him flushed and breathing hard and had the audacity to look unbothered. "can i help you?"

"just checking on you," he said.

"i'm fine."

"clearly." his eyes moved to the toy and back to your face. "don't let me interrupt."

you stared at him. "seriously?"

"go on." he nodded at the toy. a slight curve at the corner of his mouth. "you started without me. finish."

"leon—"

"make yourself cum," he said simply. "go on. since you clearly don't need me."

your face went hot. which was annoying because you were already most of the way there and he'd just made it significantly worse, standing there in the doorway looking completely unbothered while you were falling apart. you tried to look indifferent about it. you failed. and when you came it was with your eyes on him and a broken sound you couldn't quite swallow and his expression shifted into something that made your stomach drop.

"there it is," he said quietly. and finally came into the room.

he took the toy from your hand before you'd even finished catching your breath.

"hey—" you started.

"you'll get it back," he said. and settled between your thighs and pressed it to your clit and turned it on and you immediately tried to close your legs and he held them open with one hand, patiently. "you wanted this so bad," he said. "so have it."

"i already—"

"again," he said. "come one more time. prove to me this is enough. that you don’t need me." his voice is gruff.

you tried very hard not to make noise for him. you really did. you bit your lip and gripped the sheets and stared at the ceiling and lasted approximately thirty seconds before a sound slipped out that you could not in any way defend, your hips rolling up toward the toy despite everything your brain was trying to tell them.

leon made a soft sound like a proud mocking tut. "there she is."

"i hate you," you breathed.

"mhm." he kept the toy exactly where it was and watched you with dark eyes as you tried and failed to stay quiet, and when you finally came apart the second time it was humiliatingly loud and he watched every second of it.

he let you come down for exactly long enough to mock you about it.

"aw," he said. tilting his head slightly. "are you all done now?"

"don't," you said.

"all worn out?"

"leon i swear to god—"

"tired?" he asked innocently . and you grabbed his collar and pulled him down and he laughed against your mouth, low and warm.  

except he doesn't laugh for long.

because the thing about leon is that he'd been holding himself together this entire time. standing in the doorway all composed, sitting between your thighs like he had all the patience in the world, keeping the toy exactly where it was while you came apart twice and made sounds you'd probably be embarrassed about tomorrow. and it had cost him. you could see it now that you were paying attention. his breathing was coming a little short, a little patchy. he shifted his weight, restless, and you looked down and looked back up and raised your eyebrows.

"leon."

"don't," he said.

"you're—"

"i know," he said, clipped.

you almost smiled. "this whole time?"

his breathing was, a little uneven, and when you reached up and curled your hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down into a kiss he made a sound against your mouth that was very close to a whine and very far from the composed man who'd stood in that doorway looking unbothered. his hips shifted forward without permission. his breath kept catching in these short little bursts against your lips, like he'd been clenching his teeth through it for so long that now that you were touching him he couldn't quite get himself under control.

you slid your hand down and wrapped it around him and felt how hard he was, hot and rigid, the veins along his length pulsing under your palm, and he grabbed your wrist. not stopping you. just gripping it, jaw tight, breathing hard through his nose.

"leon," you said again, softer this time.

"yeah," he said. rough. a little wrecked. and then something behind his eyes just gave out entirely. "okay. no. i can't."

and all that patience he'd been so smug about evaporated completely. he reached over and grabbed the pillow and tucked it under your hips and then he pressed forward and the first slide of him into you made you both go still for a second. you were so wet, embarrassingly so, slick and warm and your walls gripping every ridge and vein of him as he pushed in slow, filling you up inch by inch until he bottomed out and exhaled hard through his nose.

"god," he groaned.

he hooked your leg up over his shoulder and the angle shifted and you felt him impossibly deeper, hitting somewhere that made your eyes flutter, and when he started to move it was not slow or patient and the sounds you both made were the kind that the neighbors would probably complain about tomorrow. his hips drove forward in deep rolling thrusts, every ridge of him dragging against your walls on the pull back, and you reached up and gripped his arm and held on.

"couldn't wait?" you breathed.

"no," he said. simply and without apology. and pressed in deeper.

“gonna fill you up,” he’d said right before, voice wrecked, almost like he wasn’t meaning to say it out loud. “fill this up.” his hand pressing down just slightly, possessive, and you’d clenched around him so hard he’d moaned and his hips had stuttered.

now he looks down at you, panting, and presses a little firmer against your belly. watching your face.

“you feel that?” he says quietly.

“yes,” you breathe.

“yeah?” his thumb moves in a slow circle against your skin, that same unbothered focus he gives everything, except his voice is rough and his chest is still heaving. “you like that. being filled with me.”

it’s not really a question. he can feel the answer in the way you clench around him, still so warm and gripping onto him, and the sound you make is small and helpless.

he stays there for a long moment, hand still pressed to your stomach, neither of you moving. then he exhales slowly and drops his forehead to yours.

he presses his lips to your temple and says nothing for a while.

"not that old," you said eventually.

"no," he agreed. comfortable. satisfied. "not that old."

you felt him smile against your hair.

THE SADISTS who enjoy ruining your orgasm and making you cum from nothing but his harsh cunt slapping.

ALBERT WESKER, HUNK, jake muller, karl heisenberg.

the way he laughed was absolutely menacing. “soaked already? i haven’t even made you beg for me yet,” your clit twitches from the sting and from his cruel words. another wet SMACK! echoes in your shared bedroom. your slick only made the impact more blissfully painful.

“look at that cunt. you like this, don’t you? having your pretty pussy slapped. think i can make y’cum with just me slapping it?” you shake your head, and it doesn’t matter anyways; because he’s landing another strike—once, twice—anyways.

“c’mon, slut. beg me. say please, master. don’t make me repeat it.”

THE BRAT BREAKERS who’ll put you in your place, claims to do it to “discipline” you.

ALBERT WESKER, chris redfield, jack krauser, karl heisenberg. 

“how many?”

“e , eight . . ”

this is your punishment when you’re being extra stubborn, and if you dared lose count of how many strikes he’s bestowed on that puffy cunt, good luck; he won’t hesitate to start over so as long as you learn a fucking lesson.

slap!

“n, nine!” your poor cunt’s given soft, gentle rubs as comfort. “my poor angel. are you gonna do it again?” slap! “ten—! n, no i won’t! won’t do it again!” slap! “promise?” you could barely utter out an eleven, the humiliation and the pain makin’ this more pleasurable than it should. slap! “p, promise, daddy! eleve—!” slap! his laughter blends in nicely with your wails.

“you know i'd rather not do this, but you've been bad. y'know what bad girls get.”

THE SWEETHEARTS who’ll do what you ask, because, well, why the hell not?

LUIS SERRA, CARLOS OLIVEIRA, leon kennedy, piers nivans.

“you’re kinkier than i thought, darling,”

he whispered in your ear, thumb rubbing over your sensitive, reddening cunt. “didn’t think you’d love—,” SMACK! “—having your pretty, pretty pussy slapped.” you knew you wouldn’t hear the end of this after specifically requesting it, but fuck, you were dripping; transparent, sticky arousal smearing everywhere.

“should i slap her again, my love?” his eyes break away from your puffy clit and looking over you, expectant. “y, yes please,” you mutter weakly, holding on to his biceps. he can’t resist, can’t say no to his good girl.

SMACK!

Jesus, he can’t wait to return to you.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

LEON S. KENNEDY DISLIKES NOISY MORNINGS. He likes to keep things quiet. Peaceful. Alone. Moping around and wagging his imaginary tail to see you—wait, what?

“Sweets! I bought sweets.” Leon nuzzled at your peacefully sleeping form after carefully putting the boxes on your dining table and shoving the lattes into your fridge. His arms automatically hooked into your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest, greedily taking your warmth for himself. He felt you moving, settling quite nicely, and making yourself comfortable in his hold.

“You’re noisy.” He heard you mumble in his chest, but he couldn’t care less. Hooking his chin at the top of your head, he breathes in your scent, inhaling the fragrance of your shampoo and your detergent, utterly content with being suffocated by—well—you.

“You act as if I care.” He hummed, taming your messy bedhead with soft pats, gently weaving his fingers through your hair as if patting an incredibly sleepy chinchilla.

Christ, he could melt just by looking at you. You looked adorable. Your naturally pouty lips jutted as your eyes remained closed, looking utterly at peace. Blissfully unaware of your effect on him. He thinks it’s unfair. How you just breathe, and he’s already at your beck and call. How the sun peeks through your windows perfectly frames your figure, making you look utterly devastating. How your hair just cascades perfectly on your shoulders, looking like messy waves that just fit.

How he thinks he wanted to be a little more than just a best friend.

“Mhm, stay.” He felt arms slowly snaking around his body, and he swore his heart rate sped up. He’s sure you heard it, too—with how your face was pressed into his chest. And he would’ve been embarrassed if he hadn’t felt you nuzzle—burying your nose in between his soft pectorals. Each puff of breath was hot, rendering his brain pathetically useless—a putty in your embrace.

“F-for breakfast?” Yeah, real smooth, Leon. What a stuttering sweet-talker you are. Proud of you, son.

“Forever.”

Then you were awake, staring at those huge cerulean eyes that reminded you of the vast seas. Gods, he was beautiful. Would it be too greedy to wish to wake up every morning with this sight? With Leon’s flushed cheeks and soft eyes that scream longing and affection?

Oh wait, maybe you’re projecting.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

LEON S. KENNEDY HATES BEING TIED DOWN. He despises commitments with passion. Almost pukes at the mere mention of it, actually. He doesn’t do all that lovey-dovey shit. He isn’t clingy—hates to be that person, in fact. He likes being alone, surrounded by his thoughts. That’s his favorite pastime, actually. He—okay, what the fuck. Who wrote this? This script is wrong. Someone is getting fired.

The air in the dining room feels light. Comfortable. The rays of the sun softly peeking through, the birds by the windows singing their hearty tune, and Leon taking care of you, just as usual. You like this routine: drinking coffee while chatting with your favorite person, just as the sun rises like a beautiful backdrop.

“Let’s make us official.”

You almost spat your coffee, heart suddenly—violently—hammering inside your ribcage, begging to be let out. You think it’s palpitations. The iced Spanish latte does its job at roughhousing your nervous system to the point that you think you’re hallucinating shit at like 7:46 am in the morning. You’re not equipped with the right knowledge for this conversation. It feels like your cells just burst.

“W-what?” You replied, with all the neurons and brain cells working overtime. They’re like three combined, so it’s not really that hard of a job when all you could think about was Katseye’s Gnarly chorus on loop. And maybe your hot-fucking-childhood-best-friend-that-acts-more-like-a-boyfriend-than-best-friend-but-you-digress.

“I mean, we’re not blind. As much as we’d like to deny it, we can’t run away from this conversation forever.” If there was hesitation in Leon’s voice, you couldn’t pinpoint it. And if his hands were mildly trembling beneath the surface of the table, you couldn’t see it. But you’d be damned if you couldn’t feel the tension rapidly resurfacing while the conversation continued.

“I can run away right now.”

“Sweets.”

“Lee.”

Leon sighed, as if he could already feel a headache coming. “I can catch you.”

“I’ll run even faster.” See, your tongue is your greatest enemy here.

“You talk too much.”

“You can shut me up.”

You knew someday that your sharp tongue would be the death of you. You got into so much trouble as a child because of it. Your aunties and uncles often get offended by your blunt words, while your little cousins seem to enjoy it. Your parents often scolded you, urging you to school your sharp tongue and witty replies, specifying it’ll bite you in the ass in the future. You didn’t give a fuck. Little you know who you were from a very young age.

You knew, and you were well-aware.

You just didn’t expect to be bitten right now.

Not that you would complain—oh god, no. You’d die happily.

“What?”

“What?”

Leon was staring at you as if he’d like to do exactly that. You don’t blame him—you’d like to do exactly that, too. You’re just… scared.

Scared to lose him.

Scared to lose the sacred friendship you built since you were in literal diapers.

Scared to mess it up so bad, you’d break up.

Scared to fuck it up, he’d end up lea—

“Whatever you’re thinking of, stop. It won’t happen.” Leon suddenly spoke up, looking at you, even if you avoided it. You hate how he knows you like the back of his hand.

Then, he sighed. Leaning closer towards you, hovering his hand over yours. He doesn’t touch, no. He waits. Patiently. “I won’t let it.” He said, barely a breath louder.

Oh, how you hate how easily he makes your resolve crumble.

You’d pity yourself if only you weren’t exactly where you want to be.

You took a deep breath, looking at his eyes after, letting your fears swirl in your irises and baring your emotions in front of him. It’s just… you weren’t used to being vulnerable, okay? Not when you’ve forced yourself into accepting whatever the fuck life throws in your way, simply choosing to laugh it off rather than to mope somewhere all day.

But this? This sudden vulnerability? This sudden confession—no, it never really was sudden. It had been subtle, yes, but you really shouldn’t have been surprised. You’ve been tiptoeing around—crossed, even—the friendship boundary roughly about a few years ago, after that incident in damned Raccoon City.

Now for the record, choosing to go with Leon to venture to that place was on you. You knew he’d be fucked up, being blacked out drunk the night prior—you would know, you were with him at the bar. You get it, the night he just wanted to forget being dumped by his asshole ex. And well, maybe you just wanted to go to RC because you were curious about his workplace, okay? Sue you for being nosy.

You just haven’t expected it to be, for lack of better terms, infested with rotting undead corpses who wanted you for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert.

That definitely wasn’t how you wanted to start your Monday.

“Leon, I…” You felt your nails digging through your palm, leaving crescent indents. It grounded you. “I want to, I really fucking do. I don’t think I have to confess when I’ve always been obvious.” Something dripped, maybe it was crimson from your hands or clear from your eyes. “I’m just scared. So fucking scared.”

You couldn’t face him, swallowed by your cowardly brain, and yet, you couldn’t stop your mouth from speaking every unsaid thought that plagued you. It has a mind of its own.

“I’m scared. What if you wake up one day and realize that I wasn’t the one you’d like to spend your future with? What if you realize that you just settled for the safest option? Because I’m not her, I will never be her—god, fuck! I wanted to be her, but fuck my life, I’m not. I could never do the things she could—I’m basically useless without you. What if I fuck this up? Fuck it up so bad, I’d lose you?”

You were spiraling. Your mind was clouded, as if the dam had been broken and every word was just falling out uncontrollably.

“I like you. No, fucking hell, that’s lackluster. I’m fucking in love with you, and I hate that my stupid brain keeps spewing nonsense and my mouth couldn’t fucking shut up and it’s exposing me!”

And finally, god, finally. Your eyes finally darted at him.

He didn’t look surprised. God, no. It’s so much worse.

He looked soft. As if something unbelievable finally happened. As if he were just waiting for those words to come out of your damn mouth.

“You’re in love with… me?” Leon uttered—no, it was barely a whisper. It was disbelief and relief, all at once. Packaged like a buy-one-get-me-free sale. His soft cerulean eyes were shining with something suspiciously akin to unshed tears. It was apparent, even if he was looking far from you, staring at his now-empty cup and leftover ice.

“Was that all you’ve heard?” While you, you were puzzled. You knew he was a little fucked up, but damn, all those ramblings and that’s all he registered?

As if finally collected his bearings, Leon looked at you, fighting that watery smile that didn’t seem to get off, no matter how hard he tried. “It was all that mattered.” He choked out, biting his lip as a tear finally dropped.

And another.

Then another.

Until it flowed freely like a beautiful waterfall.

“I couldn’t care less. Shit, I just wanted you.” Leon rasped, “Fucking hell, all I’ve ever wanted—no, needed was you.” Trembling, his hands grasped yours, engulfing them whole. He traced little shaky hearts, his fingers still absentmindedly trembling as he stared at your skin, shying away from your gaze.

“All you, Sweets. Always you.” He lifted your hand, prompting it to cup his cheek. With his eyes closed, he melted into your warmth, exhaling a stuttered breath before looking into your eyes. “Always had been, always will be.”

It was whispered.

The promise.

Barely above a whisper.

But the devotion was loud.

Too fucking loud, it echoed through your heart, silencing your stupid brain’s unnecessary provocations.

“You dumb fuck.” You croaked. Before swiftly crossing the table to suffocate in his embrace. You hugged him like he was your lifeline, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his stupefying scent.

Leon did the same, nosing your hair and pulling you to his lap. His head was filled with nothing but you, his arms wrapped in you like a warm cocoon. Peppering light kisses, while his hands fiddled with the ends of your hair, tracing feather-light patterns on your clothed skin. “Your dumb fuck, I suppose?”

“Mine.” You replied, cheekily pecking his neck, feeling the goosebumps run through his spine. “You learn fast.”

“Mhm, shut up.”

Then suddenly, his hand was on your cheek, guiding you towards his plush lips. And damn, you fucking melted, your lips moved as if you were already accustomed to his, moving in sync, like a mad rhythm waiting to be played. The kiss was tender, full of longing and secret devotion shared. It felt like whiskey, something strong, harsh yet addicting. It was heavy with regret—regret of why you haven’t done this much sooner, how you’ve lasted this long without each other’s constant touch, when you’ve realized all you needed was each other, and what’s stopping you from fully destroying the quote-unquote bounder-less boundaries you’ve been too afraid to fully cross.

And was quickly replaced by need—full hunger that aches to restore time that was lost. There was heat when he parted your mouth with his tongue, curling around yours like a waltz that seeks to devour you whole. Your throat bubbles with whines you don’t even bother suppressing, because he drank it with vigor. He kisses you like he was starved, tongue fondling with yours, curling and stroking until your head was fucked and air was a foreign concept for losers.

You felt his large hands grope your ass, snaking down to grab a hold of your thighs, manhandling you so you’re straddling him, clothed drenched cunt to clothed hard cock. It made you whimper, embarrassing sounds escaping your lips while he rolled his hips, catching your clit. Writhing in his hold, your mouth left his as you tugged his shirt, signaling that you want it gone.

He obliged with a husky chuckle, “Impatient, aren’t you? My needy baby.” Leon’s voice dropped an octave lower, swiftly pulling his shirt off to reveal his muscular build. Before your head could catch a fraction of what you were doing, your hands were already tracing his sculptured lines. Nimble hands flying from the sides of his neck, lightly circling his pebbled nipples (which made him stutter a breathless gasp), dropping lower to his chiseled abs, feeling the deep ridges and subtly grinding on his hard cock.

“F-fuck, sweets. Like what you see?”

“Very.”

Oh, maybe you shouldn’t have done that.

Because suddenly, you’re very afraid of what will happen next.

Maybe your legs would cease to work.

Maybe your voice would refuse to come out.

Maybe his cock would be wrung dry.

And maybe you’d like that.

Leon groaned in response, hauling you up with one arm while his other arm busied itself gripping the back of your scalp, under your soft hair, pulling you closer as his tongue bullied yours yet again. Your arms flew to his neck, inching yourself even closer as you felt him move—walking to what you would assume to be your bedroom.

Plopping you down on your bed, you bounced twice—twice too long for Leon, apparently, as he found himself in between your thighs, rip, rip, ripping your clothes to shreds. His hand found purchase in your bra, swiftly unhooking it with a snap. It would’ve been impressive if not for his tongue immediately lapping your pebbled nipple, calloused hand playing and massaging the other one.

“Fuck, baby,” he panted, sucking lazy kisses that would for sure bruise. “Y’taste too sweet. Shit, you really are my sweets.” Then, you felt a hazy, sharp pain, looking down to see a bite mark right before your areola—all red and new as he stares at you with hooded eyes. Cerulean eyes that seemed to deepen with each passing second, pupils all blown out and dilated as if you were the only drug he’s willing to indulge in.

Then, he switched to your other nipple, slobbering and giving it the same attention as the other one. Little zigzags as his tongue traced your areola to your hardened nipple. Fuck, it was a mess of spit and bites as he sucked wet kisses down your stomach, fiddling the strings of your sleep shorts and tugging them down with the patience of a saint—well, if the saint was being chased by a rather aggressive wolf in a two-by-two world build.

“Fuckin’ look amazing, gorgeous.” Leon huffed, kissing the side seams of your panties and lifting your thigh, placing it on his broad shoulder, his face lightly pressing your inner thighs as he scattered wet kisses—his light stubble scratching you involuntarily, arching your back with light whines.

His warm puffs of breath tickled you, moaning as your fingers travel to his scalp. “S-stop teasing m—” You stuttered, before a sharp whine catches on the back of your throat.

Fuck, it was hot. His warm tongue lapped the gusset of your drenched panties, tasting you just from the fabric. Desperate licks as he sucked, blunt nails digging through your thighs as your arousal seeps through the ruined cloth. Then, his lips found purchase on your clothed (almost transparent) clit, sucking and sucking with the scratchy—wet—fabric adding the stupefying sensations.

The room was filled with your ah-ah-ah!’s while Leon was having the time of his life in between your legs. It wasn’t until you heard a small rip-rip-rip until ypu realized that oh! you’re fucked.

Leon groaned, immediately devouring your fucking pussy. “Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart. Y’ve been keeping t’is from me?” He slurred, tracing your folds with his tongue, fucking you with zigzags that ranged from lazy to vigorous spurts of energy. He eats you out like he was starved and you were the only meal he needed to survive. He flicked his tongue on your clit, swirlin’ and sucking, then going back to your drippy hole where he collects your sweet fuckin’ sap. “Shit—haah—so fuckin’ wet for me—juuuust for me, sweets?”

“C’mon, baby. Gimme more, yeah? Fuuuuuck, y’can gimme more.” Leon rasped, greedily sucking your twitchy, engorged clit, then switching to tongue-fuck your drippy hole, curling and stroking your stretchy walls. While you? You were (s)creaming, throat scratchy with strings of curses, with drool collecting on the corner of your lips—precisely why you barely registered his thick finger entering you, stretching your poor pussy out while his tongue continued to abuse your poor clit. “P-please.”

The burn was insane—insanely fucking delicious, your head was swarming with dizzying pleasure. “F—s-shit, m-more—mhmn—a-aah!” You don't even remember what you were doing, barely even remembering your name. All you could think about was Leon, Leon, Leon.

You felt another finger, scissoring, curling inside your gummy walls. Reaching into the depths of your spongy weakness—making you scream, thrashing into his hold to the point that he has no choice but to wrap his strong arm around your abdomen to halt your involuntary actions.

And then another.

Three fingers, knuckles deep, assaulting your insides—hammering into your fucking g-spot, while his tongue continues to suck the living soul out of your poor hypersensitive nub.

“S-shit, ‘m close—fuuuuuck—‘m close!” You rasped, tugging Leon’s soft locks as your body convulsed—unravelling, coming undone. Eyes rolling back to the back of your skull until all you could see was white, and the coil on your abdomen violently snapping as liquids flew like a damn waterfall.

And Leon? Yeah, he wasn’t done. Still lapping your juices as you spill it all out. Even after your high was released, his mouth was still moving, still making out with your oversensitive pussy, still greedily sucking your juices, even if you tried to pull away, running from his strong embrace. God, no. He just pulls you back even closer, burying his nose in your clit while his tongue circles your hole.

He’s determined to fuck your brains out so good, you’d stop thinking of pointless possibilities that would never fucking happen as long as he’s alive. Why would he think about other women when he’s got you splayed out for him like a fucking five-course meal, just his for taking? Why would he think about the irrelevant fucking future when his past and present were spent with you? All you, baby. All fucking you.

“Oh, fuck—Leon—!!”

Did he say that out loud? Because by the look of it, he did. Your glassy, heart eyes say it so.

“Like that, sweets? That I’m aaaaaall yours? Yeah?” Leon grunts, standing up so he could hover over you, kissing you, all spit, come, and tongue. His tongue—god, his tongue, you love his fucking tongue—coiled around yours. Fucking your mouth while his hand unbuckled his belt, tugging off his pants in a swift motion. You caught sight of his drenched boxers, spurts of wetness visible through the grey fabric. It made you whine on his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as you basked in the sensation.

“Bet you fuckin’ loved that, didn’t you, sweetheart? Loved the fact that I came untouched by eating you out, mhm?” He whispered on your lips, slightly pulling away as his lips reattached to your neck, sucking and kissing deep reds and purples once more. “Didn't even need to grind, fuck, y’r cunt’s allll I need, baby. Drives me fuckin’ insane.”

Just as quickly, you felt something hard and hot pulsing on your fluttering cunt. Blinking—willing your eyes to open, you saw his massive cock—long, pretty, veiny and fucking girthy as you swallowed dry. Shivers traveled down your spine, suddenly very fuckin’ afraid if it’ll even fit.

Leon chuckled, as if sensing your hesitation. His hand moved to cup your cheek while his other traced circles in your hips, grounding you. “It’ll fit, baby. I’ll make it fit.” His tone was soft, his thumb caressing your cheek as he wills you to look at his eyes—but damn, his words were nasty. “Gonna make sure y’r head’s full of my cock, my pretty baby. Y’like that?”

See, you would’ve responded. All sweet and high-pitchy. Instead, moans were the only thing that left your lips when you felt his cock nudge your outer lips, teasing your cunt as you felt Leon spreading your legs further, bullying your cunt until his tip finally fuckin’ entered your stretchy hole.

“F-fuhck! Mhmnn—!!” You stuttered, already feelin’ fucking full. Still too hypersensitive from your earlier release. “S’jus the t-tip?”

It made Leon puff out a breathy chuckle, moving his hips little by little, small thrusts to fit snugly inside you. “Y-yeah, baby. Still jus’ the tip. ‘m sure y’can fit more inches here, yeah?” He drawled out, his fingers tracing to what he would assume to be where his dick would fit. “J-jus’ tell me if y’need a break, ‘kay?”

Then he thrusts, parting your gummy walls, impaling you with his thick, veiny cock fully. And you did nothing but take it, enjoying every second of being fucked dumb by Leon and hearing his damn cute whines. He wasn't afraid to be vocal, oh god no. He was loud. Groaning with each mean thrust on your cunt—whining as he repeatedly pounds your g-spot, making you drool on your sheets.

“Y-yeah? L-like that, baby? Oh fuuck—” Cutting himself off with a groan, he felt you clench—squeezing his damn cock so tight, he had to will himself not to cum that fast. “Sweet girl, you're—ngh—y’r fuckin’ suffocatin’ me.”

You did nothin’ but whimper, and he did nothin’ but take you to pound town.

Leon’s stamina was more than fucking impressive; his unrelenting thrusts were constant and damn consistent, roughly loving and disrespecting you all at the same time. You felt stuffed to the brim with his thick shaft, his calloused thumb traveling to rub mean circles on your clit as you moaned for mercy. The repeated plap-plap-plap of his skin slapping yours was nasty, and his erratic ministrations of your body felt like heaven. You think you could stay like this forever.

“Yeah, b-baby? Fuuuuuuckin’ think you could stay like t’is for—nghh!—forever?” He groaned at the shell of your ear, darting his tongue to flick at the sensitive lobe. “Think ‘m doin’ somethin’ wrong, y’shouldn’t be thinkin’ at alllll.” He croons, tone deep and mocking, manhandling your thighs, folding you in half.

“Wha—Lee!! Oh fuck, Leoooooon—!!” All you could do was squeak, your voice going an octave higher—something you didn’t even know you were capable of, as he jackhammers into your cunt. Fucking you senseless and so utterly stupid, abusing your spongy g-spot with precise thrusts. And you could only retaliate by fucking up his back, scratching while your back gives out.

You swore you heard him whimper in delight.

Your five senses consist of staring at Leon’s fucked out face, smelling Leon’s heady scent, tasting your cum and Leon’s saliva still on your lips, hearing Leon’s sharp grunts and gasps—occasionally his small whimpers as he hits a rather deep spot, and—fuck—feeling Leon’s thick cock spearheading your tight cunt, feeling him twitch as his veins tickled your insides.

Yeah, you won’t be walking, alright.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

LEON S. KENNEDY IS ALL OF THOSE THINGS, BUT MAYBE THERE MIGHT BE EXCEPTIONS (YOU).

“Fuck you, Kennedy. Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou!” You groaned, the feeling of your legs still not returning after a day and a half of full bed rest.

The person charged guilty was found chuckling, eating ice cream, and faaaaaar away from where your wrath could grasp him in the neck (he’d like that). “Ouch, babe. Kennedy? Seriously? Who’s that?”

Aaaaaand then ducking, as if he could already feel the pillow heading toward his head without directly looking at it.

“Fuck you and your stupid fucking stamina and your stupid fucking words—ugh! I am never sleeping with you ever again!”

“You kiss your boyfie with that potty mouth?” He whistled, “Damn.”

“Oh, you dick!” You threw him your plushy, the same thing he gave a few years ago—all purpley and stupid. Cute, but stupid.

“Nine inches, baby. And a grower—hey! Not my child.” Leon pouted, catching the plushy with both hands, then patting in the head as if it truly had feelings.

“Fuckin’ suffocate!”

“In those thighs? Bet.”

“Asshole—!!”

“We could try that, too.”

“Urgh!” You threw your hands up, huffing, as you slumped back in your (thank god wasn’t broken) bed.

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

imsorryimsorryimsorryiwantmore holy fuck i don't know what i wrote and in my defense, my hands started typing shit before i even realized what i was doing okay okay. (did u enjoy it tho? teehee) rbs and comms are greatly appreciated! i work well with praise wink wink wink

he pushes them to the side, dripping spit from his mouth down your swollen clit and dragging his fingers in circles while slowing down the pace of his thrusts to help you and placing another kiss on your ankle, “there you go. feels good, angel?”

you can feel the smell of sex all around you. in between your voiceless moans and leon’s grunts, it drips sticky and heavy down the walls and oozing out of your every pore. it smells like leon, masculine, like a man who’s been busy: shamelessly filling up his best friend’s daughter with cum all day long. his cologne is faint, leathery, long gone.

you can feel it radiate slightly right under his jaw, each time his abs press on your tummy and his cock slides with ease right back inside you, tip bruising your cervix so slightly, when he puts his weight on you, emptying his balls of cum inside you.

masterlist.

taglist ! (comment to join) @mfstargrll @urfaveblackgirl @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @itimisu @nunita24 @branchesofmagic @dxrkoholic @nanalovesff

you carelessly spread your legs wide open at the edge of his king sized bed, panties down your ankle, tits pulled out of your tank top. leon’s back stays pressed against the bedroom white wall, muscles hugged by his black t-shirt and veiny arms pressed against his sturdy chest. he watches you finger fuck yourself and push his spit up your walls to lubricate— the wetness of your cunt splashes down your legs and soaks your inner thighs. he’s tense and you’re worse.

you shake in pleasure and stare right into his eyes and you see it from the way his brows furrow and right fist clenches glued to his thigh. his other, oh, you keep masturbating and dreaming about the length of his thick fingers filling up every inch of you, taking care of your aching burn.

“wanna taste me, leon?”

he gets down on one knee, right at the edge of the bed. he wraps his hand around your forearm, pulling your fingers closer to his hungry mouth and licking them clean.

“thought you’d never ask,” leon coos and he gets up, positioning himself between your legs, stuffing his thumb, then two more fingers inside your mouth, “suck on ‘em, sweet girl.”

and you listen, hypnotized by leon’s words, in something nearing a trance-like state.

“must feel really good, huh?”

you take your time, one hand fisted lazily around the thickness of his cock to keep your busy mouth company. his veins pulse rapidly under your touch and you keep jerking him off with playful, sloppy strokes, up and down his cock to meet your jaw.

leon’s blue eyes land between your legs for a few seconds when a moan escapes muffled past your lips, right where you keep two fingers pressed around your puffy clit.

your pussy is soaked and lonely, almost dripping wet down your inner thighs and pooling and he hasn’t even touched you and yet, your cheeks burn and you feel dizzy. you feel perverted for getting soaking wet, just from being a such good girl and sucking your older boyfriend off in his car. the more pleasure seeps through your core and radiates through every inch of your body, the more your legs spread instinctively and your lids rest half open.

“let me just—mmm. fuck, don’t-” leon’s grip tightens around the steering wheel and he slows down on the highway, because you swallow more of his cock, almost sinking it down your throat. his other hand moves right onto the back of your head, controlling the pace for a few seconds; it feels so good to fuck you mouth.

“spread your legs a lil’ wider for me, sweet girl.”

the position, despite being slightly uncomfortable, doesn’t bother you. leon manages to get his hand down to your pussy and he slides two fingers up and down your folds to lube them, from your slick entrance to your swollen clit, “there we go. much better. want me to stuff my fingers inside you, angel?”

you mumble an short mhm, catching you your breath, wiping some drool off the corners of your mouth and chin. you adjust in your seat in a more comfortable position and leon buries his middle finger inside you and his index follows, coating both in layers of your oozing sweet juices.

the moment you feel your walls stretch around him, you moan, with no urge to control yourself and it makes his cock twitch painfully. you’re quick to lock your hand around leon’s wrist; you nails dig slightly in his skin the deeper he pushes and curls his fingers up to your sensitive spot.

“c’mon, use my fingers to fuck yourself,” he coaxes and you listen.

you take control of the pace, still holding onto leon’s big wrist for support. you masturbate using his fingers and he feels each time you squeeze your walls around his tighter, forcing him to bury himself inside you up to his knuckles.

you take a third long finger and stuff it inside you and feel unable to think— this entire thing feels like a dream through your hazed mind. leon’s name slides past your lips and sultry moans fill the his car entirely.

“you’re gonna make me pull over and fuck you. that look in your eyes… can’t wait any longer, huh?” he leaves you all empty and whiny when he brings your fingers to his own lips— eyes still on the road, “tell me i’m wrong, sweet girl.”

he shoves them inside his mouth, tongue licking you off his fingers, savoring the text of your pussy on his lips. the more he licks it turns into sweet nectar and he grunts lowly, because he could come just from this alone.

“y’know me so well, leon.”

you smile, leaning back in the leather passenger seat, holding onto his wrist once again and shoving his hand under your skirt. he teases you, resting the tips of his fingers at your entrance, motioning slow circles up to your clit, back and forth.

“g-gosh! stop being such tease! you’ve been driving for five hours. don’t you need a little break, hmm?”

you don’t have to tell leon twice.

while i was writing my other nasty car sex fic i was thinking. HM. maybe i could write something and connect it to the og fic. so this will have a second part. i also have a dbf!leon fic i MIGHT finish this week.

as always, interactions and reblogs are super super appreciated !! mwuah <3

taglist (comment to join!) ; @mfstargrll @urfaveblackgirl @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @itimisu @nunita24 @branchesofmagic @dxrkoholic @nanalovesff

The monster’s clutching you too tight, you're gasping for air. Your dominant arm is free, grenade in hand, even if your other arm is squashed in against your side. The fucker’s whipping you around like a litigiously unregulated county fair ride; black edges your vision and your head pounds horribly. You manage to arm the grenade with your teeth and grip it, breathless, waiting.

You need the hydra to screech again. You need the great stinking mouth open, throwing saliva and mucus past rows of needle teeth, the perfect basket in which to throw your one and only egg.

Leon’s already caught on.

A single splattering gunshot splits the air and the monster jerks, limbs flying skyward as it screams in fury; you’re helplessly along for the ride, heaved almost directly above it – and here’s your window.

You drop the grenade. It goes right down the gullet.

The explosion ruptures the monster’s body cavity in a great geyser of green and black gore. Its limbs thrash and flail, whipping high, slamming into the ground. You brace as the arm gripping you speeds for the ground, but then it swings you around and back up, your stomach lurching violently, and –

It throws you.

Your heart and lungs hitch, suspended; time runs slow as you arc high, tumbling, too high, way too high – and start falling. You see where you’re going to land and curl yourself into a ball, protecting your head and neck.

Your body blows a hole right through the lake ice, plunging into the freezing water below.

Leon’s already running.

The hydra is nothing but a tangled, limp, caved-in pile of slop, disregarded the second Leon saw you go airborne. He’s running, stripping off his jacket, ripping open the buckles on his chest rig, tearing off his tac belt, leaving a trail of weapons and ammunition and nylon webbing strewn in his wake. He reaches the bank in his street clothes, shoes skidding to a stop just before the water, breath loud in his ears and visible in the air.

The jagged crater you left in the ice is still sloshing dark, slushy water.

You haven’t come up for air.

“Fuck.”

He looks down at the scuffed grey ice pack, gauges the distance to you, and sprints.

The ice groans and cracks under his feet; he keeps moving. He closes the gap, every pounding footfall turbulence that fractures the lake ice in great echoing snaps, the whole thick sheet weakened by the violence of your intrusion. Finally, with a leap that calves the ice beneath him, Leon dives into the freezing water after you.

The shock of the cold pulls on Leon’s lungs, he has to fight against the primal instinct to gasp. His limbs are immediately leaden, but he doesn't stop moving. The flat grey daylight barely filters through the murky ice above and the water is dark with disturbed silt. He kicks towards the lakebed in search of you, his pounding heartbeat a timer counting down.

Something that looks like a branch solidifies into your arm, limp hand floating in a slack reach skyward. Leon grabs your wrist, hauling your dead weight towards himself, hooking his arms underneath your shoulders and swimming up for the gap in the ice.

He heaves in air when your heads breach the surface.

You do not.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls through gritted teeth, and manages to slide you up onto the ice pack, pushing you clear as he kicks his legs up behind himself and drags flat onto the ice beside you. He moves you onto a thick, uncracked stretch of ice and pushes you onto your back, plugging your nose and forcing air into your mouth.

You choke, spurting dirty lake water, rolling onto your side and spitting up more, coughing and heaving. You try to prop yourself up on your elbow, your throat raw and tight, nose stinging and burning. Your eyes are blurry when you open them, your ears are waterlogged. You squeeze your eyes shut and blink them clear enough to see what keeps pulling at you.

It’s Leon, wet and pale, saying something to you, his eyes intense. You squint at his mouth, trying to read his lips because your ears might as well have been left underwater for all the good they’re doing you.

Get up

We need to move

Can you “hear me? We have to go, now!”

As if to punctuate his statement, the ice below you jerks, a crack scything underneath your body like a bolt of lightning. You recoil onto your hip and Leon pulls at your arm, pulls you up, the ice creaking and popping under your shoes.

“Run!”

It’s a bit much to ask.

You do your best, stumbling after Leon, short on breath and coughing. You’d impacted the ice with your left shoulder, the force ramming your curled arm into your ribs, hard. That side is tight and painful, and you know you’re too frozen to feel the full extent of it yet. It’s really not gonna be pretty.

Your foot catches on a rising gap in the ice and trips you; you slide and weakly scramble back to your feet. Ahead of you, Leon’s almost to the shore.

You’re almost there.

You hit the bank on your hands and knees, gasping. Your fingers, clawing into the crumbling dirt, are pale, the nail beds blue. You can barely feel the dry grit of the cold earth under your hands.

Leon grabs the collar of your jacket and yanks you to standing.

“Keep moving. Keep moving, come on.” He grabs your hand, already running, pulling you after him.

You half-register the scattered bullet clips, weaponry, and leather jacket on the bank as you run in Leon’s wake. You pass the fuckass hydra; it’s nothing but a gelatinous stinking puddle that you quickly leave behind.

The thin, brittle air razors through your lungs, freezing and metallic. The bitter wind axes at you. You can’t feel your extremities; you keep stumbling and it’s slowing you down. Leon looks back just in time to watch you actually fall, tripping in a rut, knees slamming into the ground. He runs back to you and helps you up. You’re both breathing shallow, wracked with tremors, teeth chattering and skin close to blue.

“Almost there. Come on.”

Leon’s car is half-hidden behind a broken fence and an overgrown shrub, parked haphazard on the dry, patchy grass. He hits the driver’s side door with more momentum than he meant to, pressing his thumb to the door handle; it unlocks and he yanks it open. You hear the whole car unlock, the lights flashing, and he slaps the driver’s door shut in favor of the backseat.

“Get in. Get in!”

You slip in the back passenger’s door just as he slides in on the other side, the both of you slamming the doors on the freezing wind. Leon immediately grabs the hem of his soaked shirt, peeling it over his head and dumping it over the headrests into the trunk. It lands with a wet plap.

“Wet stuff in the back,” he says, twisting over the seats to grab something out of the trunk. It’s a duffel; he grunts in frustration when his numb fingers fail at first to catch the handle but then he drags it into the backseat while you’re struggling out of your soaked jacket and shoving it over the backrests. It lands with an even wetter plorp.

You’re still wearing your chest rig; your numb, stiff fingers can’t get the fucking plastic buckles to open.

“Fuck!”

There’s a sharp snk noise; Leon shoves your hands clear and slips a folding knife under the nylon webbing of your rig. The straps pull taut and dig into your injured side, but then he’s cut clean through the belts and he’s helping untangle it from your arms. The buckles clatter against the back windshield as you throw it in the trunk. Leon uses the knife to make quick work of his shoelaces, kicking his soaked and muddy shoes into the footwell, then he leans across and holds your ankles steady, cutting your bootlaces while you peel your shirt up over your head. Your side screams at the stretch and you rasp out a cry of pain.

Your left side is already violently bruised, livid and dark against the pale blanch of your goosepimpled skin. You’re caught for a moment by the horrible picture it makes, trying to remember to breathe.

“Jesus,” Leon says in agreement. In your periphery, he’s struggling with his waterlogged skinny jeans and there’s suddenly a lot more skin above the line of his waistband; the denim sucked his boxer briefs halfway down his hips before he managed to shove the jeans to his knees and off. He throws the jeans in the back, pulls the waistband of his underwear up, and again he’s in your space undoing your useless fucking tac belt that your frozen fingers can’t open. His hands are just as cold and numb as your own, why the fuck do they work better than yours?

Wind gusts against the outside of the car, scratching the scraggly branches of the nearby shrub against the doors. You feel a draft even through the sealed door. Your teeth are clacking uncontrollably.

“Can we get the fucking heat running?” You shove your pants and boots into the trunk, smearing mud on the leather seat. Leon’s rooting through the duffel again.

“No.”

“No?”

“The keys are in my coat.”

“The fuck kind of agent are you? Hotwire the car.”

“Smart, when I can’t feel my hands,” he says, and shoves the duffel into the footwell, tearing open a passport-sized plastic package with his teeth and turning towards you on the seat. “Come here.”

He shakes out the mylar safety blanket and you realize exactly what’s going to have to happen, here. It’s a thought you’ve had triaged as a last-resort solution while stripping semi-nude in the backseat of his car; now it turns out it’s your only solution. He’s scooting to lay down across the backseat and you’re going to have to get on top of him. He’s scooting to lay down across the backseat in nothing but wet cotton boxer briefs and you’re going to have to get on top of him in nothing but a wet bra and panties, and then he’s going to close you both in under the mylar blanket to trap heat like you’re a fucking turkey in a roasting pan.

Fuck.

You clench your jaw against your chattering teeth and don’t let yourself hesitate. There’s no can or can’t here – you’re both freezing, this is life or death. So you climb up over him in the limited space available, helping to pull the mylar blanket around you and tuck it in under your shins, under his head and shoulders, sealing you together into a lumpy, creased foil bubble.

It’s not pitch black like you'd hoped. The mylar filters the grey daylight into a dim, intimate dusk. You can still see Leon’s face clearly, on your hands and knees above him; you could count his eyelashes if you could bear to look him in the eyes. You keep your head down and focus on the uncontrollable chatter of your teeth, the way your whole body is shivering unpleasantly, and not the way his knees are framing your hips. He’s too tall for the backseat.

Your disloyal stomach flutters when you feel his hand brush your darkened side.

“How are your ribs?” He presses his thumb carefully against the darkest patch, low on your ribcage, where your elbow impacted. You hiss and jerk away.

“Tenderized, Leon. Ow."

“How bad?”

“I don’t… think anything’s broken.”

“Deep breath in.”

You oblige, slow and careful, your ribs expanding over your lungs. It stings horribly, your skin feels too tight, but nothing stabs you. His hand rides the motion of your ribs, feeling for telltale hitches or jerks. It’s nothing but clinical.

“Alright,” he says, quiet. He eases his touch but doesn’t drop it away. You’re staring at your hand in the crumpled landscape of the mylar blanket over Leon’s shoulder, because everything else is his naked skin.

His hand moves from your side to your arm, fingers close to the bend in your elbow like he means to fold it.

“You gotta get down on me."

You want to laugh but your side only lets you make a pained huff through your chattering teeth.

"Nice one, icebrain. Lemme loop HR in real quick."

“The air pocket only works if one of us is warm,” he says, steamrolling the comment. And he’s right.

Fuck.

"I don't know where you think my knees are going."

You have to play some strange and painful backseat Twister, the foil blanket complicating shit by clinging to your damp skin and hair, but then you’ve puzzled yourselves together so you can drop onto him with a put-upon huff.

He hisses and pushes you back up by the shoulders.

“Fuck, how much water is in that thing?”

You both look down at your high-impact bra. Squeezed between the two of you, it's now weeping drops of frigid water down your stomach. It's also left an imprint across Leon's chest, wet enough to bead up and roll towards his armpits.

“You can’t be wearing that.”

“Leon–“

"No, this isn't an argument. That's over your heart."

Yes, but. It's also over your breasts. Preventing them from being all over Leon. All over Leon's naked skin.

"Do you trust me?"

You don't even hesitate, because that's the easy question.

"Yes."

It's a zip-front bra. His fingers touch the zipper.

"Okay?" His gaze is holding yours, strong, a promise to keep his eyes up.

It’s taking all your energy to appear calm and unaffected right now.

“Yeah. Fine."

It’s a relief, actually, the compression easing as he pulls the zipper down, releasing entirely when the sides come apart. It’s easier to breathe. He pushes the straps from your shoulders, brushes them down your arms until you can drop the soaked bra into the footwell, tucking the foil blanket back in place. His chest, still cold, feels warm against your freezing breasts.

He rubs the damp, freezing skin of your back, paying special attention to the deep impressions left by the bra seams like he can smooth them out, putty under his fingers.

“Do you know you're doing that.”

He stops. You shift, shoulderblades rolling under his hands.

“I didn't tell you to stop,” you say.

“Yes ma'am.”

Your head is turned away from his, because otherwise your nose would be right against his cheek. You have to maintain at least one boundary in the smoking ruin of all the others. He keeps stroking your back; the gentle flats of his palms, the firm pads of his fingers. You’re starting to feel like putty.

Your eyelids are heavy.

“Is it bad to fall asleep?”

He pinches you hard and you jolt away from it, knocking against the seatback. Your injured side flares with pain.

“Fuck! You ass,” you gasp, poking him hard between the ribs. He jerks under you, cursing, and you brace for retaliation, but he’s gone still.

And you register why.

His face is right under yours, noses almost touching. You’re sharing breath.

And something else is different.

“…Where are your hands?”

You know where they are. He moves them from your hips up to your back again.

“Good boy.”

You don’t know what fucking possessed you. It sounded like a joke in your head, but released into the narrow space between your faces it’s far more charged than that, because of course it is. You’re hearing it now, where it’s too late to take it back. You still have a brain like a frozen chicken cutlet, fucking cold and smooth, he has to understand–

He’s breathing out hot against your mouth, pushing his hands down to the small of your back, pressing your body tighter against his, and it ignites something sharp and fervid in your belly.

“Shit,” you whisper, and kiss him.

He meets it. He kisses you back like he’s just been waiting, gathering the damp hair at your nape with one hand, blunt nails scraping the skin of your neck. His other hand goes lower, the heel of his palm digging in, fingers gripping your ass. You gasp and roll your hips, body lighting up.

“Fuck,” he says into your mouth. “Careful with your side.”

“You be careful with my side.”

“Damn.”

“Shut up.” You fist his hair and pull his head back, kissing the taut line of his neck under his ear, scraping your teeth against the skin. He’s got both hands on your ass now, sliding his fingers under the sides of your panties to gather the fabric into a thong, palming the cool skin of your bared cheeks. You hum, rolling your hips again.

“You’ve got a fixation.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, unashamed. He smooths his hands down your thighs where they’re framing his sides, his fingertips digging in. You’re sitting on his pelvis, grinding on nothing but the flat of his low abdomen, his thighs closed behind your ass, his knees pressed to the car door. You kiss his mouth, open and loose, and speak against it.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you that cold?”

“Don’t be rude.”

You stop moving, pushing up to stare down at him. “Are you serious?”

“No.” He opens his legs, shifting his hips, and you gasp when you feel him against your ass. You shift back, rubbing yourself against the hardening length of his dick, the lake-wet fabric of your underwear dragging together, no longer cold and clammy where you’re touching. His breath tumbles hot from his open mouth, hips rolling to meet you.

“Fuck, Leon.” If this is him with shrinkage, how the hell has he been packing all that into skinny jeans all these years?

He’s watching you, his eyes half-lidded, hands on your naked waist. You sit up more, tipping your head back, running your hands along his forearms as you drag your wet pussy along the firm heat of his cock.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he tells you, molten. You groan, arching.

“Jesus. Keep talking like that.”

“Yeah?” He tugs you by the arms to bring you lower, kissing your neck with an open mouth, his scruff lightly scratching your skin and making you shiver. His hands find your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples, and your breath hitches. “Fuck, I’ve wanted to touch you like this.”

You laugh, just a teasing exhale against his lips. “What, cold and injured?”

He’s pulling the fabric of your panties to one side, holding it there, out of the way. You moan when he rubs his fingers through your drenched folds, slow.

“Naked and wet,” he growls, teeth grazing your shoulder. You whimper and thread your fingers into his hair, gripping, gasping when he circles your clit. Your hips jerk erratically; he’s mouthing kisses up the side of your neck, nipping lightly, then speaking against your skin, his voice subterranean.

“What do you want?”

Holy shit. You don’t remember what it feels like to be cold, anymore. Your body’s on fire. You’ve maybe never been this turned on in your life, and all this after a fucking ice bath.

“Take yourself out," you tell him. "I wanna feel you.”

The first drag of your wet cunt along the satin heat of his naked cock has him groaning, his hips rocking helplessly. You glide on him like that, wetting his dick, feeling it jump and throb between your pussy lips. You prop yourself up on his shoulders, pressing him down into the seat, grinding your clit firm against the head of his cock with little gyrations of your hips. He’s gripping your waist, mouth open, just watching you.

“I’ve never seen you so speechless,” you tell him.

“I’ve – shit – never seen you riding me.”

“Mm. Lucky day.”

“I know.”

“Any last words?”

“What?”

You cant your hips back, reaching down to guide the glistening head of Leon’s cock to your entrance. His fingers tighten on your sides, breathing in sharp.

“Be careful,” he says.

“You’re sweet,” you tell him, bearing down with little adjustments, caging his dick in place with your fingers. The tip of him presses into your tight wet heat and Leon gasps, head thumping back against the seat. You stare at the display of his body below you; the taut stretch of his neck, the flush of his chest, the tight muscles of his stomach as he works to keep his hips still, letting you control this. You take him into you in increments, the burning stretch of him blurring into white-hot pleasure, the length of him making your thighs shake before you’re finally fully seated, the throbbing heat of him bottomed out inside of you, filling you deep. You drop forward, hands on his shoulders, panting.

“Are you okay?”

You manage a nod. “God, Leon.”

He moves his hips, just a small adjustment, experimental. You gasp, lifting to half-mast him, sliding back down. He’s so thick.

Your thighs are shaking too much and you don’t exactly have the room to adjust. You lean down, desperate.

“Fuck me.”

He doesn’t need telling twice. He grips your ass, pushing you down into every thrust of his hips, long and slow at first so you can feel every inch, grinding tight against you when he bottoms out. He uses your breath by his ear as a barometer, picking up the pace, the wet glide turning into a wet slap, and turns his head to catch your moans in his mouth.

“Think you can come like this?”

“Limited menu of options, garçon,” you pant. There’s no fucking space back here.

“Tip your hips down,” he says.

You do; he slams in deep, grinding, putting delicious pressure on your clit. You cry out.

“Fuck, like that Leon!”

He pulls your earlobe into his mouth, sucking lightly, resuming the faster slap of his hips.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, filthy, and jesus christ, he is going to get an orgasm out of you. Almost just did.

“Shit,” you gasp. “Are you close?”

“Do you want me to be?”

You clench around him and he groans, hips stuttering.

“Fuck. I am if you do that,” he gasps. You do it again and he buries deep to grind on you, like he’s warring you, fighting to set you off first.

“Fuck, I’m close, I’m close,” you whimper, bouncing on him, stalling for time. He’s got you right on the edge and you don’t wanna go over yet. “With me. Come with me.”

He curses, fucking into you hard and fast, thrusts starting to go erratic. You keep a litany of babble going in his ear, obscene, feeling him catching up, drawing tight; and then he’s bottoming out hard against you, groaning brokenly as he pulses deep inside of you, your walls convulsing as the final slap of his hips sends you tumbling over the edge with him.

When you come back down to earth, the foil blanket is askew, his leg sticking out in the passenger’s side footwell, your forearm dangling in the driver’s side footwell. You’re lying bonelessly on top of Leon, riding the heaving of his chest as you both catch your breath. He pulls the mylar down to the middle of your back and the cold air raises new goosebumps on your flushed skin.

"I think that did the trick,” he says.

You hum, your eyes closed, face pressed to the side of Leon’s neck. He runs his thumb lightly along the dewy column of your spine.

“How’s your side?”

“Stings.”

He’s still inside you, starting to slip free as he softens. He gently pulls out and your forehead creases, a grumpy noise escaping you.

“Hey,” he says, soft. You don’t lift your head, it feels like too much effort. He shifts under you and you grumble your displeasure, but he’s just resettling you so you’re not leaning your bruised side so heavily against the seatback. He cards his fingers through your hair, pulling it back from your sweaty temple.

“I’m going to sleep,” you murmur. “Try to pinch me again and see what happens.”

He laughs, just a short rumble low in his chest.

“Worked out fine the first time.”

You smile, eyes closed, and tuck your arm in under his body.

“Beginner’s luck.”

There’s a lot of shit to do. There’s kit to grab from the beach, samples to take from the hydra, clothes to dry, reports to fill out, bruises to heal, complex developments to talk through with your partner.

But right now, there’s just Leon’s heartbeat and steady breathing beneath you, his fingers combing lazily through your hair, and you’re pretty sure it’s all gonna work out okay.

On AO3

Guys quick tip don’t take survival advice from a gratuitous x reader they probably died lmao

Thanks for reading! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist when I post these fics 💙

His only saving grace is you, another agent who he works with on his rare duo missions. You’re just about the only other single person in the entirety of the DSO—that’s what it feels like. Sometimes, you two will sit at events and roll your eyes at people showing off their partners. Then an awkward silence after of a silent agreement ‘cause you both know you’re just envious.

“Do you think we can call in sick?” Leon sighs as you both sit in your hotel room before you have to leave for an event. This ceremony thingy-bullshit is a bigger, more nationwide one that your boss sent you both to. One room, but two beds, at least. Cheapskates knew you didn’t have significant others and didn’t bother with privacy.

“I mean, prolly… but we lowkey might get flamed,” you reply. He leans against the doorway of the bathroom as he watches you do your makeup. The pretty, long dress you have on is a far cry from the tactical gear he usually pairs you with. Both looks are hot as hell, he definitely can’t deny that. He’ll just tuck that secret in his pocket for now.

“Well, hurry up. Maybe we can show up and leave as quick as possible,” he says as he checks his watch and pretends as if he didn’t just try to check you out. Not that it would be the first time.

Extremely unfortunately, you make it to the event, dreading every click of your heels against the marbled floors as you step inside. This one’s clearly expensive and fancy—that’s worse. The bar quickly becomes Leon’s victim. He lets you know he’ll get you a drink while you find them a spot at a table with an easy escape.

Well, he didn’t really expect to come back and find some guy hitting on you. He’s more curious than annoyed, but it’s there. This guy has the audacity to hit on a girl like you?

“Really? They flew you all the way out here, huh? So you’re pretty special,” this idiot smirks, thinking his blinding white teeth are gonna win you over. Leon can tell you’re irritated.

“Sure, you could say that,” you reply with pursed lips and your best disinterested voice. Your gaze shifts briefly to Leon standing behind him who looks amused. You’re only taking note of your drink that he’s holding.

“Well, special lady, would you maybe like to go to dinner with me somewhere more… private?” He lowers his tone leaning in a little, thinking he’s smooth as hell.

“Uh… no, y’know my schedule’s kinda full…” you shake your head, using that very obvious rejection tone. If he hasn’t taken the hint already, he has to take it now, right?

“Okay, no date. Maybe just uh… a night together?”

Nope. You were stupid to think a man would ever take a hint.

His tone makes it obvious what he’s asking, he wants his head under your dress. He says it like he knows you’ll say yes.

“Oh, I’m celibate, actually,” you smile tersely. He gives you a look as if he doesn’t believe you.

“Really? A pretty girl like you isn’t interested in sex?” He raises an eyebrow, taking a step closer as if that’s gonna fix your supposed virginity. “I find that hard to believe, sweetheart.”

“Ah, too bad. Really sucks when not every living female wants to fuck you, huh?” You can’t help but mock, returning the raised brow. “Afraid it’s just gonna be you and your fist tonight.”

He scoffs, trying not to look as offended as he clearly feels. He finally seems to take the hint. “God, some special lady you are,” he grumbles, pushing off the chair he was leaning on and giving you a look before disappearing.

“Celibate? Really?” Leon chuckles when he finally gets to talk to you again, holding out a glass of wine for you. He knows first hand that you're just about the opposite of celibate. You’ve been out drinking together multiple times… one thing leads to another.

“Just a white lie, cant hurt,” you shrug with equal amusement. You finally sit down at your carefully scouted table right next to the exit for a quick, uninterrupted escape.

The rest of the night is as boring as you expected, but a couple more glasses of wine gets you through it. The millisecond you receive your awards—some bullshit that you don’t even think needs to be awarded—you and Leon are out of there. You’ve never been more happy to see your hotel room.

Taking your time undressing and relaxing for a while, eventually you turn in for sleep. You’re even wearing your cute silky set, all curled up under the sheets. And clutching them tightly. It’s literally freezing.

“Mmh, Leon…” you mumble, trying desperately to warm yourself up. You look over your shoulder at his bare back turned to you on the other side of the room. When did he take his shirt off? “Are you awake?”

After hearing a quiet grunt, you continue. “Are you cold? I’m freezing.”

“No. ‘S hot as hell,” he grumbles. He waits for you to say something else, and just as he’s about to offer you all his sheets, he hears shuffling from your bed. A moment later, he feels the mattress dip behind him and turns over to see you kneeling on the bed and inviting yourself in.

“Y’don’t mind if we cuddle?” You murmur, slipping under the covers. He swallows as he sees your cute pajamas with the lace and he can already tell this isn’t gonna end with just cuddling. He wordlessly opens his arms up for you, wrapping them around you when you make yourself the little spoon.

He makes sure the sheets are pulled up over your shoulders, rubbing your arms and thighs underneath to try to warm you up. “Still cold?”

Well, not really. You're very hot now, actually, but you nod your head, mumbling yes.

“Want me to warm you up another way?” Leon offers, his voice quiet and rough in that way that sends a shiver down your spine. He rubs his nose against your neck, fingers brushing up under your shirt. How are you supposed to resist?

“Yeah,” you nod against the pillow, squirming slightly as he rubs your side—ticklish little thing. You help shift your legs as he pushes your shorts and panties down.

“There you go. I got you,” he murmurs, sliding his hand back up the inside of your thigh. He kisses the side of your neck as his fingers part your soft curls to get to your pussy. You can feel him smirk against your skin when he feels how wet you are.

“Doesn’t feel very cold to me,” his warm digits spread your slick around, finding your clit with ease and gently circling it with his middle finger. You whine quietly, hands grabbing his forearm that’s around your waist.

You’re snug but not tight around his fingers, easily dipping them in your wet cunt and spreading you open. He shifts, almost draping himself over you to “keep you warm” as he fingers your needy little pussy and gets you nice and ready for him.

“Oh, Leon, right there,” you whisper into the pillow as he makes sure the heel of his hand is rubbing against your clit as he adds a third finger. Your hips lightly rock against his palm, your brows pulled into that soft crease that makes you look fucking adorable.

“Look at you, going around telling people you’re abstinent and yet you’re crawling into my arms,” Leon teases gently, curling his fingers in a slow, languid way that makes your spine straighten and your breath catch.

Just as you’re mumbling about getting close and about to cum, he takes his hand away with a kiss to your shoulder beside the strap of your top. You whine, but he turns you around in his arms with one of those dumb smirks.

“C’mon, girly, you’re on top tonight. Show me how celibate you claim you are, hm?” He taunts, bringing you with him as he rolls into his back, big hands on your soft hips.

“Ugh, how did I let you talk me into this? Didn’t we say we’d stop after last time?” You complain as you settle your hands on his bare chest, your naked hips lazily grinding against the tent in his pajama pants.

“We both know we can’t stop. ‘Sides, I barely talked to you, just tried to warm you up,” he grunts as you start dry humping him, rough hands sliding down your scarred thighs. Rubs his thumbs over the small, raised lines before giving you a light slap on the ass.

“Get going, princess. You’re slow,” he says with fake impatience, staring up at you with that cheesy smirk. You roll your eyes but start to pull down his sweats and boxers anyway.

Your hips shift restlessly with need as you grip his hard cock, giving it a couple light strokes before positioning yourself above him. With your eyes on your movements, you hold him still as you slowly sink down on him with a low, gravelly moan.

“Mmh—fuck, there you go. Hug me so nice,” he sighs with a grunt of your name as he watches you. You sit there on his cock, looking up at him expectantly. This is usually the part where he takes over again and holds you hips while he thrusts up into you.

He simply returns the look. Asshole. What happened to chivalry?

You sigh dramatically, your knees on either side of his waist as you find leverage with your hands behind you on his hard, strong thighs. You don’t usually do this part.

You suck in a breath, lifting yourself up a bit, and then back down with a soft moan. Up and down, up and down, grinding softly against him and keeping eye contact.

But it’s just not the same! Even as you keep up a nice rhythm, your soft moans getting louder and your grip getting tighter, he’s not deep enough. Not hitting the spots he usually gets.

“Leon, c’mon… it’s better when you do it,” you sigh as your hands come back to the front, tracing his abs as you do your damn best riding his cock. He simply stares, amused as his hands rub up and down your thighs.

“…Leon,” you say more firmly this time, hoping you can chastise him into fucking you. It doesn’t work, and you’re getting impatient. You groan dramatically, circling your hips as you lock your eyes on his. “Leon, just fuck me already! Fuck me hard!”

He can’t help but laugh. It gets him going to see you all frustrated, as much as he hates it when you’re anything but happy. Anyway, who’s he to deny you? His hands slides up to your hips, pausing to grope your ass before firmly planting themselves above your thighs.

“Careful what you wish for,” he murmurs before lifting you up and then pulling you back down to meet his thrust. A moan slips from both of you this time as your fingers dig into his bare chest.

“Mmh, fuck yeah Leon,” you groan, leaning back so you can see his face a bit better. Not for long, ‘cause then he pounds into you hard enough to pull out a high-pitched whine and make you throw your head back with pleasure,

“God, fuckin’ love that, don’t you? You can’t even ride me properly. Always need my help,” he grunts as his hips jump to meet yours every single time. He always scolds you in that sickly sweet voice that has your pussy dripping.

“Oh—mph! Right there—yeah, nail my shit, just like that,” you say breathlessly, your head dropping to his chest as one of your hands snakes beneath you to find your clit. A half moan-half growl slips from your lips as your back arches deliciously, teetering right on the edge.

“Jesus, cumming already? Needed it bad, did you?” He murmurs as he trails gentle, contradicting kisses compared to his rough thrusts against your shoulder. “Come on, sweetheart. Cum on my cock.”

It’s hard to hear his words over the squeaking of the bed and your own moans. Almost forgot you were in a hotel—no, you definitely did forget. That’s not what’s crossing your mind right now, though. You’re too busy crossing the finish line. Moaning his name, your fingers still on your clit as i grinds up into you to help you ride it out.

“That’s it, girly. Good girl,” Leon mumbles in your ears, rolling your hips against his pelvis. Once he’s decided you've had enough rest, he gently manhandles you onto your back, quickly pushing your legs up and squishing your knees against your tits as he gets right back to work.

His hands grip the backs of your thighs, his fingertips denting into the plush skin as he pounds into your pussy. His voice leaves him in harsh grunts and satisfied groans, his gaze fixed on his cock coming in and out of your soft cunt.

“Y-Y’know… how much it pissed me off… when that guy was flirting with you?” Leon grunts through gritted teeth, almost like he was trying to keep it back.

“Fuck… yeah?” You question through your sex haze. You guys don’t really talk about other people, or your feelings. Especially not towards each other. So to have him essentially admit that he’s jealous.

“Yeah, princess. Couldn’t believe he thought he had a chance with… you,” his words come out a little slurred—he always talks too much when he gets close. You whine softly, the jealousy woven in his voice making your insides quiver.

His hands grip tighter on your thighs, not enough to bruise but definitely no less than firm. He leans over you a bit, putting a little more of his weight on top of you as he fucks you harder. He barely manages to remember he didn’t use a condom, whining pathetically as he uses all the forces of his self restraint to pull out.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…” he whispers under his breath, one big hand pushing your thighs together as he strokes himself with the other. You make sure you’ve got a front row seat to see his brows furrowed and your name falling helplessly from his lips.

Leon moans your name, his head falling back as he finally pours his hot, sticky cum all over the backs of your thighs. Rope after rope lands on the soft flesh, making him moan a little more as he squeezes as much as he can out of the tip. You look so pretty like that, he’d take a picture if he knew you wouldn’t kill him.

“Oh god… so perfect, sweetie. Did so well,” he mumbles lazily stroking himself a little longer before letting go. He smears a bit of jizz across your skin before bringing his thumb up to your mouth, letting you lick it off.

It takes a moment to recover with his thighs feeling like they’re on fire, but eventually he pats your hip and gets up. He finds a small towel in the bathroom and runs it under warm water to come clean you up. Once you have everything you need, he puts your panties back on and double checks that you're nice and cozy as his little spoon after a very abstinent night.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The light wakes you up in the morning, streaming in through the thin curtains. You grumble, waking up and shaking Leon’s shoulder awake soon after. He kisses you and says thanks for last night, before the two of you return to your “normal friendly mission partners” routine.

Just as Leon closes the door behind you, about to head out to go home, you glance over at the sound of the persom in the next room over leaving as well.

The last thing you expected was to lock eyes with the man who tried to hit on you at the event, looking tired as hell, as if he didn’t get any sleep.

“…you didn’t sound very celibate to me.”

a/n: hi hope u enjoyed!! any notes always super duper appreciated 🙌

LEON S. KENNEDY. ♡

you don't know how long you both have been indulging in each other—all you know is that your cunt's jus' so sensitive. but you want more. you need more. thinkin' about being empty and not being stretched full by your boyfriend's makin' your waterline glimmer with tears.

"leoooon, please—,"

leon stared at you, in awe that you were still conscious. aware. clearly, he's not fucking you properly. "please what, angel?" "fuck me—fuck me, please. need your cock. just put it in," his fingertips tease your clit, and you whine, shaking your head. "nooo—nooooo . . need your cock. please, leon,"

today, leon finds out his ovulating girlfriend can turn into a literal succubus.

"but you said your cunt's all sore, sweet girl. you were crawling away," open-mouthed kisses are bestowed on your cheek. "just the tip. just put the tip in," leon could feel his cock stir, quickly growing erect with your neediness.

"okay, baby. whatever you say," he kisses your teary eyes before hovering over you and grabbing ahold of your legs. just the tip. just the tip. just the tip. leon has to repeat to himself, lathering the leaking crown with his creampie mixed with your slick.

just the tip. just . . the tip.

your creampied pussy makes a lewd squelch as leon slowly pushes the head in. but you're both in cloud nine, eyes rolling like it's the first time you've fucked each other. "y, yes, like that!" you whimper, reaching over to your hypersensitive clit and making aimless circles.

leon begins to move, only giving your cunt shallow, slow thrusts. "fuck, angel—," he lets his head fall back, pleasure enveloping his tip. your cunt's so fucking wet and warm. your fingers pick up their pace, cunt throbbing with intense pleasure. who knew you could jus' get off from just the tip?

"faster,"

faster?

how can leon do that without shoving himself balls deep into you? "faster—pleaseplease, leon," you sobbed. "y/n—i," he bucked his hips, trying to go faster without splittin' you open with his cock. whimpers are spilling from leon's mouth, growing needier by the second, his vision continuing to blur as he eased just the tip in, as per your request.

the way you were clenching around him, creaming around his cock—it drove him crazy. how could he not fuck you? leon has to reminded himself that you want just the tip. but he's relying solely on instinct. and before he could even realize it, he's plunged himself deep by accident, and you're wide-eyed, an unanticipated orgasm taking you both by surprise.

"leon—♡!"

"y/n—i'm sorry, sorry—,"

he can't stop. he won't stop, pounding you into the mattress and making sure you feel every length of him with every ferocious thrust. he's drooling, watching you squirm. something about seeing your pussy spurt out clear fluid with every push in makes him feral, potentially unlocked a new turn on and fantasy to jerk off to.

"t, told you just the tip," you whimper, sniffling, and leon cradles your head, essentially smushing your face into his chest. "sorry. 'm sorry, sorry—i l, love your cunt." leon sobbed, his hips doing all the work for him, pummeling into you without mercy.

spit's shining on leon's built chest as you automatically kiss and lick at the area. marks in the shape of your canines are left, and leon hisses when you bite him again.

"gonna cum, y, y/n—gonna cum—cumming. 'm cumming, oh god,"

he vigorously rams his cock in your leaking pussy, hard yet hurried; it's sloppy, and leon's just desperate to fill you again. your moans are muffled by his flesh, and leon has yet to notice that he's crushing you with his chest. not that you minded, either.

with a few more unrhythmic slams of his hips, he's spilling himself in you, all of his cum just overspilling as he kept rutting into you. "hah— h, haah . . so good—so good," he babbles, spit dripping on his chin as his eyes rolled back. "leooohn—," you grunt from beneath your boyfriend.

it's only when his orgasm finally comes down that he stops moving, clarity slowly seeping into his fucked out mind. he retires from you almost immediately, now-concerned eyes soaking in the sight of you. did you pass out? "y/n," a hand caresses your rosy cheek.

"y/n, please come back to me,"

"mhh . . "

oh thank god. he knows you're just fine, but he was still worried. "are you okay?" he whispers, brushing away the stray strings of your hair. "i'm sorry, i was . . too into it," you chuckle when you feel him pepper your face with kisses.

"i'm fine. still in one piece, baby."

you both groan when he slowly pulls out, the rest of his creampies spilling out of your gaping cunt. "i love you, leon." you mutter, weakly wrapping your arms around him. "i love you too, angel."

LUIS SERRA. ♡

"luis . . just the tip,"

you both really shouldn't have fooled around with these aphrodisiacs. it's been hours and his cock's yet to come down. luis isn't even sure if he can cum anym—

wait. did he hear that right?

"what'd you say, mami?"

it's harder to hear you when you're bent over, and especially when you're mumbling and barely coherent. "the tip—jus' the tip," you whine. "is my bebé sensitive?" he drags a finger over your slit, and you squeak, body jerking in response. your knees almost gave out. "luiiis . . jus' the tip, p, por favor . . "

you poor thing. he affectionately runs a hand over your spine, down to your ass where he kneads your curvaceous flesh. "por supuesto, amor. we can go slow. and . . just the tip," [ of course, love. ] he thought he could do it. luis can control himself, can go slow if requested—usually—but the drug that ran through his veins made that fucking impossible. swallowing a nervous lump, he prods the tip against your slit. fuck, you're so fucking wet. this wasn't fair.

with a slow push of his hips, your warmth embraces his sensitive cocktip. "oh, fuck. oh my fucking god. dios mio," luis's grip on your ass tightens, his own way of restricting himself. "sólo quiero follarte," [ i just wanna fuck you, ] he confesses, but only thrusts the tip in and nothing else.

"me estás matando aquí, bebé," [ you're killin' me here, baby. ] luis babbled on, a shiver running down spine. "are you sure you're sensitive? y, you've been—you've been always able to take it," turns out, he didn't have it in him to fulfill your request. luis could hear the obscene squelches your creamy pussy made, and his brows narrowed as he winced, almost as if he was pained from your instruction. yet, his restrained thrusts—it was more like gentle rocking, to be honest—continued, the tip pulling out with an obscene pop with every withdrawal of his hips.

he enjoyed it, of course. more than anything. but luis was a greedy, hungry man. yearning more. needing more. your pussy was just so fucking inviting, creaming all over for him with just the tip—fuck, you can't ask this from him.

"bebé—y/n, i can't—can't take it anymore. i have to. t, tengo que follarte," [ i have to fuck you. ] your eyes widened when luis slowly slides in an experimental inch. you squeal, reaching behind you with one arm, but luis just pins it on your back.

the moment he's stuffing himself completely fucking full into you, you're just sobbing, legs shaking from the mind-numbing pleasure. luis was, too, not even realizing he had just cum in you. his hips moved like clockwork, "luis! luiissss—fuck!" was all you could cry out. you squirmed, writhed, tried to crawl away from the addicting pain of pleasure, but he's tugging you right back and slamming himself into you to the hilt.

"lo siento—lo siento bebé. feels good, h, haah . . " [ i'm sorry—i'm sorry, baby. ]

all that cum pouring out of you made it much, much easier to pound that cunt. "h, haaah—fuck! luiiss—," you sobbed, unable to stop your legs from giving out. his chest rests warmly on your back, and you feel a loving kiss pressed on your temple.

"te amo, te amo . . . " he murmured as he pummeled that pussy, making sure that the tip thwacked against your perky cervix and hitting all the right spots. your head rests nicely on the pillow, and you're so fucked out, you think you're about to pass out from all the pleasure.

the bed creaks as luis kept ramming his cock deep into you, and you squeal as another orgasm washes over your body. the nth orgasm made your eyes cross, made you see fucking stars as your legs quivered and you clutched the sheets helplessly. luis didn't see it, but he sure as hell fucking felt it as you squirt all over him and his legs. "dios—dios mio, you're making a fu, fucking mess,"

his thrusts begin to slow down, hard-on still intact, but the aphrodisiac wasn’t as strong as it was from the beginning. blinking, luis realizes he was crushing you by resting his whole weight on you. "shit, shit—y/n, i'm sorry," he shuddered when he slips out of your creampied pussy. "mierda, hace frío," [ shit, it's cold. ] is whispered to himself whilst he gently lays you on your back.

"luiiis . . " you huffed. "that's not the tip," "i know, i know. i'm sorry. but, in my defense, eso es imposible," [ that's impossible to do. ] an affectionate hand caressed your hair. "still sensitive, prinsesa?" you groggily nuzzle your face in his arms.

you only hummed. the next minute is spent in silence, as luis kept you warm and held you firmly. "next time, no more aphrodisiacs," you stir as he spoke, letting out a scoff. "what? booooo."

"wha—excuse you, señorita, why are you booing me?"

"oh, c'mon. don't lie. that was fun,"

"jesus, you are such a freak. me asustas. you need to read the bible or something,"

"wow. like it wasn't you who bought those pills!"

"oh. ehehe. right."

ALBERT WESKER. ♡

bro this gif im going to start s/creaming

you're already fucked out. already trembling from the orgasms wesker's given you, and it's all thanks to the new toys he had bought from his trip. a clit sucker and a vibrating, ridged, girthy dildo. you sobbed as wesker kept thrusting the toy in and out of you, making sure you take all of its length.

"f, fuck—! s, sir, cumming—, 'm cumming,"

there wasn't much you could do, not when a silk ribbon tied your wrists and ankles to the headboard. ( he bought those, too, by the way. ) "again? look at the mess you just made." you look over at the silicone, the base was coated in your creaminess—and it was already smearing to his already-soaked fingertips.

it was so easy for him to break you, and he hasn't even undressed himself yet.

your hips buck against the air, and the unintentional reflex just makes you grind your clit against the toy that lavished its attention on you. "fuuck—! fuckfuckfuck—, a, albert—!" you clutched onto the ribbons, eyes rolling as you felt your cunt throb with need. you were close, you could feel it in the pits of your stomach. "what was that?"

wesker clicked his tongue, clearly displeased. "you call me sir, brat. or are these toys getting into that head of yours?" you hear a few clicks, and your eyes widened when you realized that the clit sucker's set to its highest setting. "s, sir—i'm sorry! i'm sorry!"

the dildo could never compare to your sir's cock—never—but the extra sensations of the pulsations and the ridges quickly sent you to the edge, never missing where you were most sensitive, always grazing that spongy nub that made your mouth fall agape. "don't w, wanna cum anymore—too much," you whimpered.

"aw," he cooed, a small smile appearing on his lips; barely noticeable. "that's really too bad, pup." he taunts, giving you a slow, but hard thrust. you squealed, clutching on to your ribbons.

"you're not in charge here,"

your cries are music to his ears, and his eyes gaze over to your squirting cunt in amusement. even though you're trembling and drooling, he's yet to withdraw the toys from you.

"are you?" "n, no, sir!" he's tight-lipped and has yet to move an inch. "n, no, sir! i'm n, not in chaaaarge—y, you are!" "hm," good enough. much to your relief, both are turned off, and you're granted a few seconds of relief.

your body relaxes on the soft bed, chest rising as you pant. “colour?” wesker asks, a rough palm caressing your shaking thighs. “g, green,” you mutter. “good. ‘m not done yet,”

wesker retires from the bed, taking his sweet time in undressing himself. it was quite the sight, though; seeing him undo his tie, unbuckle his pants. his boxers had a wet spot from his leaking tip. “you’ve been a good pup, darling.”

the bed sinks with his added weight, and you watch him leave kisses on your inner thighs, stroking his cock with a spare hand as he lathered his pre all over his monstrous girth. fuck . . could you take that? you don’t think y’have it in you. but you didn’t want to stop. y’wanted him . .

“s, sir,”

you call, and wesker’s eyes tilt up. now that he was much closer, y’could see how blown out his pupils were. “yes, my love?” he asked as he positions himself, grabbing ahold of your thighs as he slaps his fat cock atop your mons.

“c, can you put just the tip i, in—?”

wesker acts as if he didn’t hear a word you just said, rubbing his length all over your slit—continuing to lubricate his shaft with your juices. you gasped when the tip slowly sinks in, and you finally get your answer when he slammed the rest of his girth into you. you screamed, back arching as your eyes crossed.

“why should i?”

he begins to rut into you, pummeling your sensitive cunt with mean thrusts. “tell me, pet. why should i?” you couldn’t utter out a proper response, not when your brain was turning to fucking mush as he pounded you. “speak up, slut.” the added nickname’s making you clench around him, and wesker only scoffed at your lack of coherence.

“gone stupid? from me just putting—hnngg—it in?”

with the position he had you in, it was impossible for the tip to not kiss your cervix, impossible for you to not scream for him as he mercilessly plowed that cunt. "s, sir—h, haaah . . ! fuck—!" your overstimulated pussy's fucking throbbing. a squeal's torn from you as his palm collides with your puffy clit with a smack! the sting's makin' your eyes fucking water, and you could feel your legs tremble again.

"will you tell me what to do again, pet?"

"n, no, sir!"

wesker grinned, rewarding your sore clit with a kind caress of his thumb. "good pet. that's—," he groaned. fuuuck, wesker shudders at the feeling of your cunt spasming around his girth. "—more like it. gonna—gonna fuck you how i want to," his words are emphasized with harsh thrusts, to drill that idea in your pretty fucking head.

"where i want to,"

"u, uh-huh!"

"when i want to,"

"u-uhnnn—y, yes s, siiiir . . ♡ !"

seeing how disheveled and how much of a drooling mess you were, were you even remembering what he was saying? probably not. but don't worry, he's more than willing to remind you where you belonged. he could no longer hold back his noises, but he wasn't even interested in trying, anyway.

the way he sounded—feral, almost beast-like, even—you'd be lying if you said it didn't incite more arousal from you. wesker ensured you felt all of him, hips moving without thought as he mercilessly slammed into that tight fit. unfortunately for you, he was more monster than he was human.

you were fucking tightening up around him—still adjusting from the sudden switch from silicone to flesh—and how could wesker ever resist ramming and bullying that pussy with his fat cock? the way he could see how he split you open, shuddering when his tip's right against your cervix—oh, you were such a sweet, sweet pet.

his cock throbbed with the ache of a release. you made it difficult for him to control himself. "fuck—'m gonna fill you up," he hissed. "think y'deserve a creampie from me, sweet girl?" smack! the collision of his palm on your cunt brings you back to reality for a brief moment. "i'm—i'm talking to you," he snarled, an you nod mindlessly. "s, sorrryyyy . . . y, yes sir! yesyesyesyes—please!"

you continue to beg him, plead for his cum whilst he busied himself with rearranging your fucking insides. it's all you could do amidst your fucked out state. don't you worry. wesker was more than satisfied with your expressions.

burying himself to the hilt, you let out a scream as an orgasm is forced from you again, fingertips affectionately rubbing on your clit. wesker can't decide where to look—if he should watch that pussy quiver as you squirted or your face that's contorting as your irises disappear behind your lids.

"yeaaaaah, just like that. look at you—fuck, you're such a slut,"

his hips stutter as spurts of thick, warm semen floods your womb and walls. wesker groaned, shivers pricking his skin. your cunt milked him so good; and not like he'll tell you, but he's fucking obsessed. obsessed with how you're so obedient fo him, how your cunt clenched around him as you quivered from overstimulation.

"tsk, you're leaking. tighten up, slut. don't spill any more," you only oblige him—it's all you could do in your fucked-out state. a groan echoes in the room as he slowly slips out from you. from where wesker knelt, he had the perfect fucking view of your gaping cunt, trying her absolute best to keep it all in as he asked. you squeaked when he caresses your puffy clit affectionately. "shh, shh . . i know," he cooed, the other hand undoing your restraints. you didn't have the strength to keep your eyes open.

the tension slowly rolls off your muscles as he sets your legs down slowly. "you did well, my love," you could feel him bestow kisses on your face. eyes, nose, lips—they were all showered in loving kisses. your wrists are set free as he undid the ribbons on your sore wrists, his lips ghosting over the red marks over your skin, too. "missed you, albert," you mumbled, eyes slowly opening. "i missed you too, my love," there's a faint smile on his face—meant to be witnessed by you only.

"you know we're not yet done, right?"

JACK KRAUSER. ♡

krauser really has lots of pent-up frustration and sexual frustration. blessed with inhumane stamina, it's really no surprise that he can last multiple rounds. 'specially when all of it just piles up on him, mmmm—god, he loves nothing more than taking it out on you and using you for fucking hours.

but krauser is mean. cruel. you want just the tip? that's really—

"too fucking bad, baby,"

that request is fucking impossible, because he's got you folded and locked in a full nelson hold. did you expect that he'd just not bury himself deep in your pretty cunt? your eyes widened as you watched his cock slowly stretched you out again. your cunt was too sensitive.

"n, no—krauser! don't! d, don't—pleasepleaseplease—,"

his balls only throbbed, eyes rolling as your pleas fall to deafened ears. your groans echo in the room as he pushes another inch or two into you. fuck, you need to breathe—

krauser laughed breathily in your ear. "what was that?" you couldn't muster a single word—it was all just pathetic squeaks. "just the tip, you say?" he'd purr, pushing in as slow as he can so your pulsating walls can feel every single inch stretching you. ruining you.

"c, can't—,"

"can't what? can't speak?"

he completely slams into you with a loud plap! you're speechless and fucking stupefied—but, frankly, what else is there to say? "urgg—feel that?" this fucking asshole just had to start gyrating his hips. you could feel the tip poke 'nd prod against that cervix, and fuck, you're trembling.

"c'moooon, sweets. y'better be awake,"

sticky drool's drippin' from those pretty lips as he began to pound you like he hated you. him doing all the work was not a problem, not at all. krauser could easily manhandle you, and he made sure that you knew. he was bouncing you on his cock like you weighed nothing and fuck—you couldn't even think of anything to say aside from his name and ah's! and oh's!

it didn't help his cock was a mix of both veiny and fucking gargantuan—you're convinced your cervix's all bruised because his tip kept hitting 'nd hitting all of your spots. "love your cunt—fuck, you like this? huh? bet you do. look at your cunt's reflection. messy fucking slut," he groaned, ramming into you vigorously. it's like he hasn't even broken a sweat.

"k, krauseeeer—," you sobbed, absolutely broken and cockdrunk. "yeah? 'm here," he pants, eyes threatening to roll back. but he had to watch you in the mirror, had to watch you crumble and go fucking stupid just from his cock. "what does my baby want, h, huh? want me to go faster?" before you had the chance to respond, he's fucking pummeling into you faster than you could even blink; you're fucking dizzy and barely lucid, but that's okay. no need to think, krauser's got you. ♡

"'m c, cummingggggg—cumming. j, jaaaaack—♡!"

"my fucking goooood—fuuuuuuck . . look at this squirting cunt,"

clear liquid's spurtin' out of that stretched pussy, coating him and yourself as he forces an orgasm outta you. you're so fucking hot, fuck. krauser's never ever ever letting you go. "you love my cock, babe?" if it wasn't for how both his large hands held your head, you would have nodded. "u, uh-huh! love—l, love your cock—♡!" "attaaa girl. i love your cunt so, so fucking much—♡,"

krauser doesn't even realize he's drooling himself—completely immersed in the pleasure. he could stay buried in you for fucking eternity. "fuck—wanna breed you. lemme breed—lemme breed you. need to knock you up," he babbled on, focused on jus' chasing his release. and with the pace of how he fucked you—it wouldn't take long.

and you?

you're fucking spritzing all over him everytime his tip grazes against that spongy nub in your dripping pussy. why'd you even ask him to not put it all in? clearly, you loved this. but don't worry. for once, he'll humour you. "y'wanted just the tip, right?" "h, hnnngg—♡," good enough of an answer for him. you're brought back to reality briefly when his movements halt. confused, you only watched your obscene reflections whilst he shifted his hips. "j, jack, what're you—?!" your eyes widened when you feel his tip slowly bury into the tight barrier of flesh in your cervix.

krauser whimpered. fuuuuuuck, you were sucking him in so good. he can't even pull out. "baby—baby, oh god. fuck, fuck. i'm fucking—cumming. 'm cumming—oh my gooooood," it didn't take any more thrusts for him to start filling your womb up with fertile, sticky cum.

you whined as your cunt's flooded with his seed, and you couldn't do anythin' except for clawing on his built forearms as he held you in place. "urgg—yeah . . . just like that . . fuuuck, i love your pussy baby," you couldn't utter a word. you felt so fucking full. krauser finally releases your head, but still held your body close as he settles on the edge of the bed. you practically collapse on his muscular frame when he finally sits, and that's okay. ♡ krauser made sure he held you tight, wrapping large arms around your body and leaning into you so he could kiss your face.

"tongue out, babe. lemme . . "

you oblige mindlessly, sticking your pretty tongue out for him. krauser's scarred lips wrap around your wet muscle, groaning as he sucked on it. didn't take long 'til he was devouring your spit-stained mouth as you cockwarmed him.

"mmmm. ♡."

CHRIS REDFIELD. ♡

this gif is so? um.

chris usually loves to prep you. loves to spend his time devouring your pussy and having his lips wrapped around that sensitive clit.

but you've got work in an hour, and time isn't a luxury you both have. "chris, j, just the tip, okay?" you say, raisin' your hips as you bent over the dining table; weight propped up on your soft palms. of course you can't say no to him, especially when the outline of his erected cock on his grey boxers is all you've been seeing this morning. but you're just a girl. you have needs and wants.

"just the tip?"

chris asks, pressing his clothed chest against your back. you feel his stubble against your cheek as he pressed open-mouthed kisses on your skin. "i don't . . i don't think i can do it, princess," he whined as his hips push forward. you couldn't utter another word as the leaking head stretches your cunt out.

you shuddered, lips quivering as you clutched on to whatever surface you were bent over on. "y, you caaaan—a, aaah, fuck—you have to . . ” you whined. but chris was greedy. hungry.

he’s not sure where he gets the courage to pull out, but he does. the tip slides out from you with a lewd, almost muted, pop! and you’re both unsatisfied, left yearning with feeling the other completely; but it makes do. it has to. tonight, he can have you for as long as he wanted.

“y/n, p, please—,” he pleads, still fuckin’ you with just the tip. chris can feel just how wet you are, hear how that cunt squelched as bucked his hips. “n, nooo—chris, i’ll—i’ll be late,” “don’t go,” his canines graze your skin, and you squealed when he pushes an inch in. your cunt’s pulsating—trying to accommodate his fat cock without prep. “don’t go—y’don’t h, have to go. please stay,” “ch, chris, i—hnnn!” the rest is completely slammed into you, and your eyes cross. chris takes advantage of your agape mouth, kissing you and letting his tongue glissade over yours.

chris starts to pound that cunt, and muffled cries were swallowed by his lips. you can’t really lie, this felt waaaay better than just the tip. the way the tip bulges out from your lower tummy, the way the pink crown keeps kissing that sensitive cervix, it can’t compare. ever.

“mhhhf,” you groan against his lips, and chris playfully bites down on your lower brim. it was hard to take in air when every thrust into you knocked the air outta your lungs. chris parts from you as he held your hips with those big hands of his.

his pace quickens, ramming into you mercilessly. you're both whimpering, voices blending together in melodious sin; whatever thoughts you had before—gone. not when chris had the skill to turn your brain to mush. "goddd—fuck, y/n. y, y'feel so goooood . . " chris sobbed. if only you could see his face. brows scrunched as he struggled to keep his eyes open; only you could bring these facial expressions to this big, beefy man's face.

you squealed when a hand snakes under your skirt, fingertips rubbing against your neglected clit. "oh fuck!" you mewled, unable to keep your cries to a low. "feel good, princess?" chris purred whilst fucking you into oblivion. "u, uh-huh—♡!" fuuuuck, his balls are fucking throbbing.

"d, don't go . . jus' stay. be my pretty little wife. i can t, take care of you,"

he babbled on, rutting into you, stuffing you full with that veiny cock. chris wants nothing more than to fucking breed you, fill your womb with his cum. "'m g, gonna fucking cum," he pants, chest heaving. but he doesn't stop pummeling that cunt—goes faster, actually. chasing his release and eager to give you yours. the table's creaking, and everything on it shook with every thrust. upstairs neighbour behaviour.

you screamed when he lightly pinches that sensitive bud, and you're seeing stars; mouth agape and back completely arched as he coaxes an orgasm from you. your legs trembled, and chris bit on his lip. "fuuuuck, baby. you're so hot—love you, i love you," "chriiiis, fuckfuckfuckfuuuuck. love youuuuuu . . ♡,"

your lips crash together again, sloppily kissing each other as chris fucks you through your high. he grunts, wrapping his lips 'round your tongue, tasting you. with another slam of his hips, you moan against his mouth when he's completely buried deep in you; thick ropes of cum flooding your creamy, spasming cunt. he can't move any more, can't think anymore. he pulls away from you, because he's sure he'll forget how to breathe.

"oooooh, fuuuck—♡,"

spit's trickling down his stubbled chin, and chris is quiet for a moment; sent to cloud nine and completely fucked out. it takes a minute or two for him to recover, and he tilts your head to the side so he could briefly kiss you while he slid out of your cunt. you both groan, and chris kneads your ass, watching his cum slowly leak from your gaping pussy.

"heheh . . gonna call in sick?"

well, you couldn't feel your legs, so. yes.

CARLOS OLIVEIRA. ♡

carlos watched you writhe whilst you came undone from his tongue. your fingers were tugging on his already disheveled, raven tresses. it's your fifth orgasm—he thinks, if he's counting right; and he'd gladly give you more. his wet kisses trail up your tummy, chest, lips, and you liked how your taste lingered on his tongue.

"carlooos,"

"yes, meu bebê?"

carlos gets a realization tonight.

"want more. 'jus wanna feel you,"

he spoils you a little too much.

your cunt was still twitching with need. you'd do anything to satiate your hunger, anything to relieve that arousal pooling in your tummy. even though he's spent the last few minutes coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you.

but he loved seeing you like this. desperate. needy. like he was the only person you needed. you knew just how to get his gears going without trying. "hmm? but you just came, meu bebê. my beard's still wet," he teased, lips latching on your neck and tracing your skin with sharp canines. you held on to his built biceps, and carlos brings your knuckles to his lips. "j, jus' the tip. please. i want more," "i know, i know, bebê. shh . . "

he can never resist you. especially when you were begging him so prettily. didn't take long for him to prod his tip against your needy hole. you both gasp when the tip slowly sinks in, slowly stretches that wet pussy apart. your nails dig into his skin, and carlos bit his lip. "fuuuck, y/n. your pussy—," fucking warm 'nd tight. clenching on him like you needed him.

carlos didn't mind being bossed around by you, especially by you. he'd do anything you'd ask before you could even blink, but he just has to remind you who's in charge.

you gasped when he slowly sheathes an inch or two into your tight cunt. "carlos, w, what're you—?!" he makes sure to slide in nice and slow, so you'll feel every inch of him splitting him open. and also so he can savour that surprised look in your face.

especially when he harshly shoves the rest of his cock in your leaking pussy, god. you'll kill him. "y, you're so unfair, princesa. so cruel t'me," he cooed, not even giving you the time to process a thought as he began to pound you with ungodly stamina.

"you think i don't have needs too? think i don't need to fuck this cunt and to fuck you 'til you're cockdrunk and overstimulated?" nasty mouth, nastier thrusts. your eyes crossed, body jouncing with every slam forward of his hips.

"c, carlos—h,hnnngg!"

he grins. "yeaaaah, that's right, baby. scream my name." you were so sensitive already, flesh walls spasming around his veiny girth, but fuck, you were oozing so much milky essence, it smeared all over his balls. he leans in so your lips could crash together, and carlos grunts against your mouth as you instinctively wrap you legs around him. of course he had to pick up his pace. why wouldn't he? he was such a good boyfriend to you, paying attention to all your needs.

you whine when he parts from you, but he has to, or else he'd lose his balance. he needed to focus on fucking you, tire his pretty bebê out. he bites his lip when you run your palms all over his built chest and abdomen.

"fuckfuckfuck—carlos—♡!"

a hand wraps around your breast, kneading your tits and running his fingers over your erect nipple. whatever thought you had, he quickly fucked it out from that pretty mind of yours. whatever. not like you needed to think when he could do that for you. well, try.

"y/n—♡ godddd, minha linda garota," [ my pretty girl, ] he babbles on, absolutely hypnotized. god, what were you doing to him? carlos kept pummeling that cunt, bed creaking obnoxiously in the process but it seemed that neither of you cared.

more marks littered his skin, ranging from bites to scratches, and they were definitely going to be sore later, but that's okay, a little pain didn't hurt no one. spit trickles down on carlos's stubbled chin, and you lift yourself up a little jus' so you could lick it up.

"y/n—♡! f, fuck! você é tão porra de suja, m, merda!" [ you're so fucking filthy, shit! ] hooking his arms around your thighs and lifting it up to his shoulders, you squealed when he begins to fuck you faster. harder. sounds of skin slapping growing louder as he rammed you without mercy.

a spare thumb began to trace aimless circles on your clit, and you screamed as an orgasm was ripped from your poor oversensitive cunt. "c, carlos—♡! oh fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuuuuck!" you clutched onto the pillows, sheets, fucking anything. you sobbed, and carlos gently flicks his middle finger against that puffy clit—you squealed as you squirt in small fountains.

"you're sensitive, aren't you, bebê? eu te quebrei, princesa?" [ did i break you, princess? ]

and oh, the way you only responded in fucked out mewls, how fucking precious. now that you've coated his girth in your squirt, it was much easier for him to move in 'n out. you could hear jus' how wet he made you, how that soaking cunt squelched with every thrust. you were such a slut for your boyfriend, and rightfully so.

he stops being cocky when his orgasm nears, grunts turning into high-pitched whimpers as he fucked you into the mattress. carlos tried to keep his monstrous, merciless pace, but fuck, he was so close. the closer he was to filling your cunt up and flooding your walls, the sloppier his hips got, probably from fatigue.

but you were such an angel, his god-sent angel, movin' your hips as you tried to meet his thrusts halfway. carlos could cum at the fucking sight of you trying to fuck yourself against him.

"oh god—♡! oh god, fuck, fuuuuck. vou gozar. vou te engravidar. ai meu deus." [ gonna cum. 'm gonna get you pregnant, oh my god. ] carlos sobbed, and after a few more push of his hips, he's crying out as ribbons of thick cum filled that cunt.

he rides his high out with a few more mindless thrusts, combing a spare hand through his hair. he's in fucking heaven, jesus christ. it's you that brings him back to reality, rubbing his forearm and eventually interlacing your fingers with his.

"oh my god, baby. are you okay?" he caressed your face, and you tiredly smile at him. "never better," you kissed his palm, and carlos tucks away the stray hairs on your face. "you sure? you okay? does anything hurt?" "no, i'm fine. well, a little sore and sensitive, but it's okay. i like it," a grin tugged on his lips, and he shook his head. "you're such a freak, baby. it's okay, i love you," a kiss is pressed on your forehead, nose, and then lips.

you shuddered when he pulls out, and his cum slowly leaks from your used, gaping hole. "i love you . . " you mutter, scooting over to the side so carlos can have the space beside you. he sighs in relief when he finally lays down, absolutely spent. "c'mere," carlos sleepily grunts, pulling you to his arms. you took it upon yourself to cover both your bare, sweaty bodies with the blanket.

"did i tire you out yet?" "hmm . . no, not really," you jeered, and carlos chuckled. "well, i certainly tired myself out," you both laugh, and it didn't take long 'til you both dozed off.

end.