#father in law leon

[porcelainseashore]

Something about older, dilf Leon who, idk took a class on dirty talk 101 and aced it, makes me go feral 🥵 I mean, what is this?! I can't handle a string of sentences made up of:

“Marriage is just a piece of paper, sweetheart… And right now, you can’t deny we both want to rip that paper up as much as I want to rip that dress from off of you,”

“You would have made a great wife for me,”

“God, all I want is to hear that pretty mouth scream my name,”

My brain is literally malfunctioning 🫨 Also, that cocky, “Oh, I thought this was a one time thing,” why do I want to slap him yet ask him for more? 😩 Thank you @admirxation for feeding us this week!

Marriage is just a piece of paper ~ Leon Kennedy oneshot

father-in-law!leon kennedy x daughter-in-law!afab!reader

summary - Leon has had his eyes on you ever since his son introduced you to him, and after the honeymoon he decides he won’t let your union come in the way of what he wants.

cw - this fic contains pseudo-incest and heavy smut; actions in this fic are not condoned; I do not condone everything I write; this is just fiction where real people cannot get hurt, continue at your own discretion // 18+ heavy smut (mdni), description of disappointing sex with partner, pseudo-incest, injury, slight hurt/comfort, touching, tit play, unprotected sex (p in v), back scratching, dirty talk, and coming inside. (word count: 2.4k)

Honeymoon. A period of harmony following marriage. The word is known and experienced by many, whether it is a short getaway, a dream vacation, everyone has the notion that the honeymoon entails a dream like state of beauty. You, like many others, dreamt of sharing a honeymoon with a lover for so long, expecting it to be one of the best moment of your life, next to the actual marriage ceremony. After all, it’s in the name with the connotations it provides. Honey implies sweetness, and the moon casts an imagery of beauty and romance.

But expectations tend not to be fulfilled.

You and your partner had everything planned: going to your dream destination, it was a smooth journey, didn’t forget anything, surrounded by wonderful people, culture, many things to do and plenty of time to complete them and rest… But those weeks were the worst weeks of your whole relationship.

The first night was okay, nothing exciting. You got to your place and had some spontaneous sex, but it didn’t quite hit the spot, you felt like you had to perform every moan, every whine, and every movement — but you just ignored that, thinking you were just tired from all the travelling. Then, you tried a second time, you felt zoned out and faked another orgasm, it wasn’t one of your proudest moments. The third time, you two just stopped in the middle of everything because neither of you “felt it”, cleaning yourselves up and rolling over to go to sleep. You two were newly weds, but it felt like being trapped in a loveless marriage of 30 years.

The sex just stopped altogether on that journey. You did most things separately, him going on retreats and you staying at the beach; the only times you were together was just before bed watching whatever show the hotel allowed on and dinner time. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be, but communication was a terrifying thing.

You two came back and were greeted with your house needing to have some renervations to be completed; you were lucky your partners father, Mr. Kennedy opened his home to you with no questions asked.

Mr. Kennedy was always lovely to you. You were terrified of meeting your partners father, but the moment you saw him all those fears melted away; he accepted you, supported and never made you feel unwelcome, he would even allow you to call him by his first name but you always felt uneasy and disrespectful.

You were now in a sea of thoughts about the honeymoon, analysing every moment and every bit of shared speech — but there was little speech to be focused on. Standing in the kitchen in a silky night dress that came to the midway of your thighs, distracting yourself with the coldest glass of water, the wet surrounding the glassy outlayer dampening your fingers as you stared out into the garden, surrounded by nothing but darkness and street lamps.

You were a wife. It was difficult to let that settle in, especially when the happiness of that wasn’t even short lived, it was non existent. It seemed like god was playing a cruel joke on you, punishing you for maybe picking the wrong person, or not trying hard enough. Whatever it was, you wanted it to stop.

As you kicked your head back to finish the last drops, feeling the cold wave pass down your throat you turned around to put the glass away, startled at your sight of Mr. Kennedy standing in the doorway.

Smash.

The sound of glass hitting the tiled floor filled the room, leaving you to hurriedly trying to pick everything up in a panic, Mr. Kennedy coming to your aid.

“I-I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to, you know I wouldn’t do this on purp… Ahh!” you felt a piece of sharp glass slide against your gentle and soft skin of your index finger, automatically shoving the tip of your finger into your mouth, feeling the metallic thick taste of blood coat your tastebuds.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay dear, go sit down I’ll clean this up,” you hesitated at first just followed suit with sitting at the dinning room table just a few steps away from him; guilt eating at you as you heard the clatter of glass as he swept it all up.

The moment all the glass was swept away and collected in the bin, he came over to you with those kind eyes, motioning with his hands to come take a look at your finger.

“Ooo, seems like a nasty cut,” he said with sympathy, reaching out to a box in the middle of the table and grabbing a band aid, before gently wrapping it around your finger, gently shushing you as you winced in pain.

“Thank you, Mr. Kennedy,” you smiled.

“You know it’s okay to call me Leon sweetheart,” you quickly apologised and rephrased your previous statement with the replacement of his last to his first name, “Why are you here, shouldn’t you be asleep, it’s quite late.”

“I could say the same thing to you… Leon.”

“Stop avoiding the question. What’s wrong? My son hasn’t hurt you has he?” a streak of protectiveness was shown.

“No. No. He’s been wonderful. Just… Just kinda getting used to the whole… being a wife thing,” the tone of your voice dropped in the last few words, you still couldn’t comprehend that you were a wife, especially with the lack of opportunity to feel like one.

“Trouble in paradise? You shouldn’t be having those thoughts, it’s too early for that.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“The honeymoon wasn’t exactly a honeymoon. We barely spent time together.” you felt him look at you differently, just then, feeling like his gaze was never going to sway and feeling like it was glued to your form, “anyways… thank you for helping me, I best get some sleep.”

As you were walking to your room, you were stopped with a rough hand grab your wrist. You never experienced this before with him. He never touched you like this; the only times he touched you was to hug you.

“Why don’t you stay… I could keep you company… Besides I can’t sleep anyways, I’m sure my son wouldn’t appreciate being awoken to you coming back to bed,” there was a small moment of feeling alarmed, just then, but that was easily and quickly diluted to how much trust you had in him.

You sat back down in your seat, feeling his gaze get stronger as the thin strap of your nightdress elegantly fell to the side; you didn’t think much of it and went to put it back in place, but Leon bet you to it. He leaned in and let his fingers tuck onto the band, placing it back on your shoulder and letting it linger there for a few moments before gliding down the soft skin of your arm — all you could do was blush at how close he was, and how touchy he was starting to become.

You should have turned him down right then; but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t like him taking the freedom to get closer to you. All you could do was let out a soft giggle to ease the tension of unspoken words and exchanging glances between you two.

“I don’t know why he didn’t spend that much time with you. I wouldn’t leave your side,” your blush was getting intense, feeling how warm your face was and how your body was beginning to tremble with slight tremors due to his gaze.

“Thank you… I appreciate that… But I guess that’s what I have to get used to… besides married couples do tend to spent more time apart… or so I’ve heard.”

“Yes many do,” he took the invitation to have his hand place on your exposed thigh, roaming it up and down and slightly lifting your silky dress, so close it exposed your lack of underwear; Leon looked at your cunt with hunger as he felt his cock grow with looks and fantasies building from just imagining to fill that pretty pussy of yours, to give you everything he wanted to over the years. You sat there for a moment, wanting him to just take you, to smash your body against the table and feel him fuck you hard — but you were a wife.

You slowly pulled down the hem of your dress, looking away and not wanting to greet that blue eyed gaze that was already undressing you with suggesting staring.

“You know, the couples that do stray away from one another do it for a reason,” his hand ventured further and you could feel his fingers just hoovering around your pulsating heat, “sometimes that distance helps people find the one they need. It starts with just one night, then another, and then they find the right person.”

He wanted you. God he fucking needed to feel you, to hold you, to hear you, he wanted that for years and now he was taking the chance.

“… I’m not a bad person… This is wrong,” morality and sexual wanting was fighting in your brain, you needed a sweet release but knew betraying your husband was despicable, how would you feel if he laid with another ?

“You can’t deny that you want me… Is it so bad to indulge in a natural instinct, after all marriage for love is a new conception… The human body knows what it wants,” his voice was thick and smooth like honey, it enticed you with temptation running its course through each and every word and action Leon gave to you.

“And we live in a world where the conception is practiced. I married your son… I made vows that man, I signed the papers,” you tried to argue.

“Marriage is just a piece of paper, sweetheart… And right now, you can’t deny we both want to rip that paper up as much as I want to rip that dress from off of you,” he was leaning even closer.

“Will you… Will you keep it a secret?” if you were going to indulge in immorality you needed to cover your tracks.

“I’ll keep it a secret. I won’t tell anything you don’t say first. Now let me see if my fantasies come close to reality.”

Just then you felt a heat pool in every corner inside your body, feeling that urge and letting it make you lunge right into his arms, and letting him kiss you has hard as he wanted, feeling your lips collide with each interlock as your tongues glided against one another’s as he roamed his hands along your body as if he was your actual husband. You quietly moaned as his grabbed the fat of your ass, leaving an imprint of his hand the harder he squeezed it.

“Mmm,” you moaned continuously within that deepening kiss that made your core get hotter and needier, you felt Leon grow against you as he finally pulled the straps of your dress and tugged the material harshly, leaving the straps to snap off, and leaving you fully exposed under his scrutiny and the cold bite of the air surrounding you both.

“Fuck. You look even better than I imagined,” he cooed in your ear as he let his large and calloused hand grab your prominent breast, making you yelp at his touch, having him grab harder and with purpose the more he kissed you, and left bites on your lower lip.

“Oh god,” you groaned as you tossed your head back the moment he let his thumb and index finger trap your pebbled nipple and pinch it, rolling the bud along his fingers as he left you panting. “L-Leon,” you let out a whispered hush, just before he pushed his lower half into you and made you collapse on the table, leaving you to sit and wait for his next move.

You watched as he stripped himself and exposed his strong phsique, getting you even wetter as he frayed his hands by his waist and pulled down his pants, exposing his large and erect member that was tinted with a blush of red and wet with precum, waiting to come inside your entrance. You bit your lip as he started to stroke along the shaft, pumping himself before meeting the tip of his cock in your wet folds; you whimpered with just his slight touch, you wanted needed him. You felt yourself grow more impatient the more he slid along the folds that left a slick on his cock, leaving him to play at smirk at the corner of his lips to himself.

He finally had you.

“Do you want me?” he whispered in your ear.

“Of course I do.”

“You would have made a great wife for me,” he uttered as he slowly pressed his length inside you, releasing a laboured and long breath as he felt your wet walls surround him, feeling you clasp around him and beg to make you his. “Fuck, you feel amazing,” he hissed.

You let your body go and feel every single thrust Leon pumped into you, hearing his gutteral groans and dirty whispers in your ear everytime he pushed his large, throbbing cock inside and hit that perfect spot just right. You press your mouth against his shoulder, trying so hard not to let out your moans and wake your real husband up.

“God, all I want is to hear that pretty mouth scream my name,” he uttered.

“He’s g-gone tomorrow.”

He raised an eyebrow out of interest: “Oh, I thought this was a one time thing,” he slowly released as he continued to thrust himself in your aching pussy, his fingers pressed into your hips as he forced himself inside.

“I need you so much more.”

You saw a glimmer cross his blue eyes, a darkening clouding his vision just before he smashed his lips against yours, groaning into your mouth as he rocks his hips back and forth, picking up the pace to fuck that pretty pussy of yours.

He thumbs your puffy clit as he continues to fuck and drill into your cunt, jabbing that sweet spot over and over again.

“I want you to cum on me, I want to see your face as you do it,” he moans as he continues to maintain the pace with bucking his hips forward and circling your sensitive bud, making your breathing depending and elongating every time he messes with you.

You reach your peak with his masterful movements, letting out pants as you cover his cock with your release; shuddering, you not long after feel his nails dig into your back, lightly scratching and making you wince, as he releases streams of hot cum inside you, making your eyes roll back to your head as you feel him pump his seed further into you and make you his.

“You’re mine now, sweetheart.”

a/n: when i posted this on my wips post (in pinned post) i saw excitement to the father in law leon so i just had to post it. i will say ik it’s a little rushed but i wanted to get it out a bit quicker, i might also write some more father in law stuff, we’ll see. i hope you lot like this and all engagement is appreciated *kiss kiss*

[ao3-rex1223]

TᖇᗩᗪE Iᑎ - ᖴᗩTᕼEᖇ-Iᑎ-ᒪᗩᗯ ᒪEOᑎ

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Pairing: Father-in-law!Leon Kennedy x Married Fem!Reader

Summary: You marry who you believe is the man of your dreams. At your wedding, you meet your extremely sexy father in law, Leon Kennedy. When your husband becomes neglectful, Leon is there to be a friend...and perhaps even more.

Tags: Fluff and Smut, Porn With Plot, Cheating, Reader is married but her husband is a neglectful prick, father-in-law sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Size Kink, Creampie

Special thanks to @lipglossanon for the graphic! <3

“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest happily announces, raising his hands up and rejoicing for the beautiful union he's just officiated. 

Your husband, Chase, pulls you into him for a deep kiss. You wrap your arms happily around his neck, pressing your body to his. Your heart soars as you finally get to call the love of your life your husband…or at least you think he's the love of your life.

The rest of the afternoon is a blur of photographs, hugs, and greeting your guests. The wedding dress was comfortable when you tried it on at the bridal shop but, damn, it was getting hot now. The tight bodice doesn't help, either. You're relieved when the night finally arrives and you can sit down to eat at the reception. You happily gobble up the dry chicken breast and steamed veggies. 

When dinner and all the speeches are done, you share your first dance with Chase. God, he looks so handsome in his tuxedo. You can't wait to rip it off later. He gently peppers your face with soft kisses and your panties are getting wet. “I love you so much, baby,” you purr, gently whispering in his ear while your guests all look on. You look longingly into his eyes, as if there’s no one else in the room. 

Chase smiles and kisses you deeply. You lose yourself in the heat and passion of his lips. The first dance ends and the dance floor fills with guests; your friends and family alike! You grin widely as you celebrate your beautiful union with your loved ones. 

Finally, a very handsome looking man who reminds you of Chase approaches you. His straight, brown hair hangs slightly around his forehead, topping off a square face. His jaw is sharply angled and speckled with stubble. It’s ruggedly sexy, just like your husband when he forgets to shave. “I'm sorry, I haven't gotten a chance to meet you, yet. I'm Leon. Chase’s father.” He smiles warmly at you.

Clasping your hands together in front of your chest, you light up, excited that you finally get to meet your father-in-law. Leon is an agent with the government and is gone a lot so the stars just never aligned for you two to meet until now. “Oh! Mr. Kennedy! I'm so glad to finally meet you!”

“Please, call me Leon,” he corrects politely and reaches out his hand for yours. “May I dance with my new daughter-in-law?”

You blush with happiness and glee. You're thrilled to have such a sweet father-in-law! Your own father was absent most of your life. He and your mother split when you were little and he’s been gone ever since. You're not even sure where he is. “I'd love to!” You take his hand and follow him to an open spot on the crowded dance floor. He gently places his hand on your waist while holding your hand with his other. You place your free hand on his shoulder and begin dancing. “Chase has told me so much about you!”

Leon chuckles, his charming laugh and easy smile the same as his son's. “Hopefully all good things.” He flashes his pearly whites and looks at you with warm eyes. 

You giggle. “Yes. Chase really looks up to you. He always talks about how hard you work. You've saved a lot of lives!”

Leon shrugs and smiles sheepishly. “It's not really a big deal…”

“You saved the president’s daughter! That's a big deal!” you argue playfully. 

“Anyone could have done it.” He twirls you around as you dance then brings you back into his arms.

“Oh come on now, you know that's not true!” you smirk at him, charmed by his humble attitude. 

“Well, thank you.” His smile fades. “It's been a double edged sword though.”

“Oh?” You ask, your face mirroring his. 

He nods solemnly with a guilty sigh. “I was away a lot. I missed a lot of big things in my son's life. Chase’s mom, my ex-wife, didn't like waiting around for me either.” He smiles sadly. “My marriage ended because I was never around. So I took a partial retirement and now, I just take a few missions here and there so I can be there for Chase…and my new daughter-in-law,” he explains, a more cheerful expression returning to his face.

“I'm glad to hear that! I know Chase has a few business trips coming up so I could definitely use some help renovating the house.”

“Won’t you be busy at work?” Leon asks, his head cocked to one side. 

“Chase and I talked and I decided I wanted to stay home. Chase makes more than enough to support us both…” you begin and blush brightly, “and our future children.”

Leon lights up with a bright grin. “Are you…?”

You chuckle with a wide grin. “No, not yet. Chase and I decided to wait until marriage.”

Leon swallows hard, a look crosses his face that seems almost guilty, but he quickly masks it with another smile. “That's…so beautiful…you waited for him…” He can’t help himself. He leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m so happy for you two. My son is the luckiest guy in the world.” He twirls you again. “I promise, I’ll be around for you both AND your kids…my grand kids.” He lets out a shaky laugh and drops his gaze to the floor for a moment. “Man…I’ll be a grandfather.”

Your eyes sparkle with endearment. “You look too young to be a grandfather.”

Leon’s cheeks blush. “Yeah…Chase’s mother and I were pretty rambunctious teenagers…She got pregnant when we were seventeen.”

You try to keep your eyes from widening. You knew Chase’s parents were young when they had him but… “Well, I guess I can’t blame his mother…with a boyfriend as handsome as you…”

Leon smiles again, cute dimples forming on his cheeks. “You’re sweet. I see why Chase married you. You remind me a lot of me and Chase’s mother.” He frowns and shakes his head when he realizes he may have implied that you two won’t last. “I didn’t mean…that came out wrong. I just mean, the way you look at him and the way you talk about him, it’s just like how my ex-wife and I used to look at each other. You two will be fine. Just make sure Chase stays home once in a while,” he jokes with a wink. 

You chuckle. “I will.” 

You continue to dance with your new father-in-law and when the song ends, you peck a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’m so glad we have you in our lives, Leon.” 

He picks up both your hands and kisses your knuckles. “Likewise, sweetheart.”

At the end of the night, you return to the bridal suite, but are surprised to find it empty; you had planned to meet Chase here at midnight. Oh well, you think to yourself. He's probably just having fun with his friends. You sigh and turn to head into the bathroom to wash up and change out of your dress. You don the sexy, lacy lingerie set you bought to wear for him for your first night together. You smile as you look at yourself in the full body mirror, excited that you'll both be losing your virginity to each other. An hour passes and there’s no sign of Chase, but you know he had been having a great time with his groomsman. 

After another thirty minutes, Chase finally strolls into the bridal suite, surprisingly less inebriated than you expected him to be. You let slide the fact that he made you wait for an hour and a half and instead greet him with a warm smile. “Hey, handsome,” you coo, standing up from the bed to show him your lacy bra and panties. Your body thrums with anticipation for finally joining with your husband in every way possible.

He looks at you with mild interest, not that you realize it right now. “Hey,” he replies with a lukewarm tone. “You look nice,” he compliments, though it’s forced. He calmly walks inside and doffs his tuxedo jacket, gently laying it across the armchair. 

“I got this for you, baby,” you explain with a hopeful smile, gesturing to your revealing outfit. 

He forces another smile and kisses your cheek and replies, “Thank you.”

You tenderly grab his hand. “Are you ready to… go to bed ?” you mutter suggestively. 

Chase smirks lightly and nods. “Sure.”

You crawl into bed and wait as he takes off the rest of his clothes. He sits on the edge and strokes his cock a few times; it slowly hardens. You tremble with excitement as you stare at him…he looks…well you’re not sure if it’s big or small…you haven’t seen many before…

He crawls on top of you and kisses you gently as he guides his cock to your entrance. You feel a sharp pinch as he invades you, stretching your walls. You wince. I thought this was supposed to feel good , you think to yourself, feeling disappointed. He glides into you further, the sharp stinging only increasing. Tears pool in your eyes from the pain. “S-slow d-down,” you plead. 

“Sorry,” Chase mumbles and slows his pace. He pumps a few times, then groans. He stills, holding himself inside you as he cums. He flops onto the bed next to you and rolls over, your marriage officially consummated and your virginity officially gone. 

You love him, you really do, so you’re naturally very upset with yourself when all you can think is, Is this it? You lay awake staring at the ceiling in the hotel suite while you feel Chase’s warm cum sliding out of you. Finally, exhaustion takes you and you fall asleep. 

When you wake the next morning, Chase is gone. The sun beams in through the thin curtains of the suite. You rub your eyes, still sore and puffy from such a long and exhausting day yesterday. You slowly crawl out of bed, trying to feel happy about finally being married. You put on your best smile and get dressed for the day, hopeful that everything will only get better…

But it doesn’t. Chase is almost constantly away for work. Your mood slowly declines. Is this really all there is to marriage? You had hoped Chase would be around long enough to help you paint the guest room, but no such luck. You remember how enthusiastically Chase’s father, Leon, offered to help out if you needed. You contemplate for a while but eventually call him.

He answers after a few rings. “Hey, there!” he greets cheerfully. “How’s my favorite daughter-in-law?”

You chuckle. You’re his only daughter-in-law. “Hey, Leon. I was wondering…could you help me paint the guest room today? I promise I’ll pay you!”

You hear Leon’s soft chuckle. “You are not going to pay me. I’d be happy to help.”

You sigh with relief. “Thank you!” You brainstorm for a second, trying to figure out a way to thank him. “How about I cook you a nice lunch instead?”

“Only if you join me,” he replies happily. 

You chuckle softly with a bright smile. “Of course!”

“I’ll be right over,” Leon confirms. 

True to his word, he arrives a few minutes later, engulfing you in a big hug. He looks handsome in his tight gray T-shirt and old jeans. His thick biceps peek out from the sleeves. “Let’s get started, yeah?”

You nod and lead him to the guest room, already taped, tarped, and ready for a coat of paint. The afternoon flies by as you work and talk with your father-in-law. You laugh more than you have in weeks, your entire marriage so far. 

“So what do you and Chase like to do for fun?” Leon asks innocently. He reaches up with the roller and carefully swipes another stripe of paint onto the wall. 

You pause, trying hard to think of an answer. Chase is hardly around. The last time you did something together was…before you were married really… “Well…Chase has been busy. He’s away a lot for work,” you explain, making excuses for your absent husband. 

Leon frowns and looks at you with sympathy. “Do you want me to have a talk with him?”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that! He’s gotta make the money for the two of us, you know? And our future kids!”

“Any developments on that front?” Leon asks casually with a hopeful smile. He resumes painting but periodically turns back to look at you as he does. 

“Well, no…we haven’t really been trying. I’ve wanted to…I’d love nothing more than to be a mom…but Chase is usually pretty tired when he gets home…we just haven’t had time.” You avoid looking at Leon, realizing how sad your explanation sounds. 

“My son is an idiot,” Leon declares frankly as he returns to painting. “When I first married my wife…I couldn’t keep my hands off her…we were at it every day…sometimes more than once,” he reveals. 

You chuckle. “I love Chase. We’re just getting settled right now…that’s all.”

Leon hums affirmatively in reply. You finish painting the guest room and enjoy a nice lunch together, talking and laughing like old friends. He stays all day and you even end up cooking dinner and watching a movie together. 

When it’s finally time for him to go home, you embrace him tenderly. “Thank you for everything, Leon!”

He returns the hug gladly. “No problem. Call me whenever you need me, when my knucklehead son is too busy to be with his wife. ” He gives you a content smile, but there’s more emotion behind it. You can’t see it now, but he’s jealous of his son. You’re so beautiful and kind. He can’t help but gravitate toward you. He pulls himself away, knowing he can’t allow himself to lose control and do something he will regret for the rest of his life. “Goodnight, sweetheart,” he adds softly and kisses your forehead. 

The weeks go by and Chase continues to be away on business trips for days at a time. When he is home, he barely pays attention to you. You practically throw yourself at him and he still barely makes love to you and when he does, it’s devoid of the pleasure that you’ve heard comes with making love; the feeling that your friends and all those cheesy romance books describe. Surely you’re missing something or doing something wrong. Every night you're in bed alone, you cry yourself to sleep, plagued with loneliness. As time goes on, you start to look forward to Chase being gone; that means you have an excuse to invite Leon over. He makes you feel whole, warm…loved. When he's around, there are no tears, only happiness and laughter.

You grin with joy one morning when you hear a knock on the door, knowing your father-in-law is on the other side. You run to answer and jump into his arms when he walks inside. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he greets warmly, wrapping his strong arms around you and spinning you around. “What's on the agenda today?”

“I thought we could start a garden. I'd like to plant some tomatoes, cucumbers, and zucchini.”

Leon smiles. “No problem. Let's get started.”

You grin happily and lead him to the back yard. The day passes with laughter and inside jokes, time slipping away as the world around you disappears, leaving only you and Leon, the person who makes you happy. Truly happy. 

When you walk back into the house for dinner, you're both sunburnt and sore, but your joyous smiles persist, underpinned by the deep affection you share for each other. 

Leon groans a bit, carefully stretching. “Man…I'm not 20 anymore.”

You hand him a glass of ice water. “I couldn't tell by looking at you,” you compliment. He's incredibly handsome and it takes everything in you to try and ignore it. 

He happily downs the cold drink, his Adam's apple bobbing every time he swallows. The sight makes your mouth water. You're overrun with an urge to kiss his thick neck. You shake your head and swallow hard, trying to rattle the depraved thoughts from your mind. I'm married! “I'll go start on dinner.”

You glance occasionally at your wedding ring which right now feels like a prison. Why does it have to be this hard? Leon makes you so happy. You smile and laugh when he's around. You feel like yourself; you feel whole.  

You season and prepare a few steaks to grill for you and Leon. Your body aches for his touch even though sex has been merely a chore for you at this point. You take several deep breaths, trying to realign your thoughts with your morals, which are dangerously close to collapsing, anyway. 

You finish cooking and serve the meal. Leon is eternally grateful, unlike Chase whenever you cook for him. He simply eats and leaves. “This looks amazing! You're a real master chef!” Leon compliments. 

You preen from his praise. “Happy to cook for the best handyman around!”

“You sure you don't want me to scold my son and get him to stay around more?” He offers with genuine desire to help. 

You contemplate, but the first thought that comes to mind is if Chase is around more, Leon will be around less. You certainly don't want that! “Oh no, that's okay. I'll talk to him!” 

You won't. 

Leon smiles and relaxes back into his chair, returning to his delicious meal. After dinner, you take his hand and bring him to the living room for a movie. 

“What's on the docket for tonight, sweetheart?” Leon asks. He plops down onto the couch, settling into the soft cushion with a relaxed sigh. 

“You pick.”

“The Godfather?”

“I love that one!” You gleefully reply and quickly start the movie. Without thinking, you grab a blanket, snuggle in close to Leon and cover the two of you. It's as easy as breathing. He wraps his arms around you and you lay against him, secure in his warm embrace and happier than you ever have been. 

As the credits roll, you look up at him, eyes heavy with sleep. You spot a small smudge of soil from the garden on his chin. With a soft giggle, you gently wipe it away with your thumb. “Missed a little dirt.”

He smiles slightly from your touch and turns to face you, his eyes glazed with desire. Like magnets drawn together, his lips close the distance with yours almost by instinct. 

The softness surprises but excites you. His kiss is gentle, tender, everything you'd hoped for in a kiss. Your mouths mold to fit each other, like you've been waiting to do this your whole lives. As the kiss lengthens, your lips part, as if on cue, making way for your eager tongues to dance together. 

Your warm breaths mingle in the cool air along with the electricity surrounding you. You feel his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your face closer to his, his strong, calloused digits rubbing your scalp. You lean in closer and slide your hands by his face, cupping his jaw on either side. The soft pads of your thumbs gently caress his cheek. He lets out a soft moan. Dropping his hands to your waist he guides you onto your back on the couch without breaking the kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, keeping him tight against you. He supports his weight with his forearms. You feel his hardening cock press against your thigh, causing red, hot desire to course through you.

A breathy whimper escapes your tender lips and your eyes slip closed as you surrender to the passion igniting between you. Just as the thrilling euphoria begins, it ends as Leon pulls away. Your eyes fly open, watching him retreat from you, then the couch. He heads for the door quickly, shoving his feet into his shoes and flying out the door without a word. 

You’re left alone, confused, your heart in a storm of passion, desire, and sin. 

Days go by without hearing anything from Leon. The silence slowly drives you mad. Chase is due home tonight and you feel as though you should at least have a conversation with Leon before you confess your transgressions to your husband. You sigh heavily as your period arrives right on time, a confirmation that you still have not conceived a child, one of your biggest life dreams. Your hope of happiness begins to fade as you feel tragically isolated once more, longing for even platonic companionship. Chase tries to engage with you but when he finds out you’re menstruating, he pulls away and leaves the house, his destination left unspecified. 

Alone and lonely are two very different things, the intricacies of them well defined for you at this point. Chase leaves the following week again and you’re left isolated in your home, your prison. You call and text Leon several times, just wanting someone to talk to, but he doesn’t answer. Finally, you leave a voicemail, in tears, on his phone. “Hey Leon…it’s me again. I just,” you let out a sigh, “I really want to see you. I know what happened was…not supposed to happen…but…” you swallow a sob, “I just…you’re my best friend,” you sniffle, “and I really need my best friend right now…please…at least call me…or come over…anything…please.”

To your surprise, you hear your doorbell ring a couple hours later. Hope fills you once more and you answer the door. Seeing Leon’s face on the other side is like a balm for your ailing spirit. Without thinking, you draw him into a warm, welcoming embrace. Your heart finally feels bright again. He tentatively returns your embrace. He missed you too, but there’s a hesitancy in his movement. 

“Leon…I-” you begin but he jumps in.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. He steps back from your embrace to gaze into your eyes. He looks just as lost and guilty as you feel. 

“No, I’m sorry,” you reply, your insides stinging with disappointment in yourself. 

“I shouldn’t have…kissed you,” Leon adds with a blush. He looks away, too ashamed of himself to look at you anymore.

You grab his hand, trying to convey your reassurance. “Leon…we���re both at fault here…” you lead him to the kitchen where you both sit across from each other. With a deep sigh, you confess, “My marriage is…not good.” Tears start falling from your eyes. You turn your gaze to the table, as if that will somehow prevent Leon from seeing your distress. “Chase is never around…he barely touches me when he is…and I just…I feel so lonely.”

Leon’s hand twitches, the desire to reach out and hold yours nearly uncontrollable, but he keeps it frozen in place. He wants to be there for you, but he doesn’t want to cross that line again or even worse, cross another…

“Can we just…” you wipe your tears away, “go back to hanging out and doing random stuff around the house and laughing like idiots all the time?” Your eyes finally climb back to meet his gaze and look at him with hope of returning to how things once were. 

Leon’s pained expression slowly melts into a soft, sympathetic smile. “Of course.”

You grin happily. “Thank you! I missed you so much!” You pull him into your arms again, even though that’s a slightly dangerous move. You blush slightly and withdraw just as quickly, knowing Leon will want to set some boundaries. “Sorry…”

Leon smiles placidly. “It’s okay. You’ve been through a lot. I don’t mind…just…no more kissing, okay?” he asserted with a slightly humorous edge, trying to keep the mood light. 

You let out a light chuckle in reply. “Deal.” You wipe away the last of your tears and start cooking lunch together. It takes a bit of time, though not as long as you might have thought, to slip back into your routine. Before too long, you're eating lunch together, talking, and crying, this time from laughter. 

Another week goes by, every day spent with Leon, and the day before you expect Chase to return, he calls. “Hi, sweetie,” Chase begins. You hear a great deal of noise in the background, lots of music and voices. “I’m hitting another conference and I’ll be gone another week. Think you could bring my BMW in to get the oil changed?”

It barely even registers with you anymore when Chase says he’ll be away for longer. “Sure,” you answer. “See you next week.” You don’t bother adding ‘I love you’. You’re no longer certain it’s even true. Plus, it's not like he ever says it to you .

Leon glances over at you inquisitively. “What was that about?”

“Chase wants me to bring the BMW in to get the oil changed,” you reply with a shrug. “Guess I can bring it in tomorrow.”

Leon lets out a dismissing “Psh,” and waves his hand. “I can do it. I’ve got ramps in my truck.” He jumps up from the chair and heads to the front door. You smile and shake your head. He’s always willing to help. 

You quickly slip on a pair of shoes and trot outside to help move the ramps. He grins widely at you, eager to embark on another home improvement-esque project. You help position the ramps properly and then guide Leon as he drives the vehicle up onto them. You stick around while he begins working, watching his T-shirt ride up while he lays on the ground under the car. His delicious looking abs peek out just begging to be licked…

You shake your head. “Need me to grab you any tools or anything, Leon?” you ask, trying to get yourself back to a platonic mindset. 

“Uh, sure.” He describes a few tools around the garage he needs and you carefully search them out and deliver them. 

Whether it's a slip of his hand or a flaw in the car, you're not sure, but you hear Leon groan and curse. 

“Leon!? Are you okay?” You ask worriedly. You drop to the ground to look under the car. 

“Ugh…yeah…just spilled oil all over myself.” Leon’s voice is a mixture of annoyance and disgust. 

“Oh! We need to clean that off! That's hard on your skin!” You tug his foot, coaxing him out from underneath the faucet of motor oil. He emerges from underneath the mischievous BMW and you see motor oil has spilled all over his shirt, arms, and neck. Worried about the potential corrosive effects, you take his hand, smearing some of the offending substance onto your own skin, and lead him to the shower. You quickly help him out of his clothes. Leon blushes, acutely aware of his nudity in front of you, but he’s grateful that you seem to somehow not notice, genuinely concerned for his well being. Your eyes are fixated on starting the shower, shoving Leon under the cleansing water, and washing his naked body. 

“Y-you don’t have to…” Leon awkwardly sputters, his blushing reaching from his cheeks down his neck. 

“We need to make sure we get all of it! Two sets of eyes are better than one!” you argue. You ignore his stuttering protests, worried sick about the negative effect such a toxic substance could have on his health. You couldn't stand it if something happened to him! With gentle thoroughness, you lather him up with soap and scrub carefully, getting every inch, every nook and cranny. When you make your way down to his hips, his dick catches your eye. 

Fuck.

It's big. Bigger than Chase’s…by a lot…you blush and gulp. You force your eyes away from the tantalizing appendage and return your lusty gaze to his face. “Um…I'll let you clean…down there.” You hand him the washcloth with a shaky hand as the deep red hue staining your cheeks spreads like an aggressive rash throughout your body. You turn, facing away from the creature that appears to have been sculpted by the gods. In your haste to rid his skin of toxic chemicals, you hadn’t noticed his ripped physique. His thick shoulders were barely contained in his T-shirt before you ripped it off. His biceps were now fully visible and rippled with each flex. His taut abdomen built up his core like carefully laid bricks. Oh how you’d love to run your hands along it, despite the notion that you could cut yourself on abs so sharp and tight. Tingles bubble through you as you recall the recent memory of his long, thick cock. Your legs tremble, imagining Leon’s tender touch all over your delicate skin, his warmth seeping into every nook and cranny of your form. Your mind conjures an image of his fat dick sliding inside you, consequences be damned. Your heart gives in, your mind yields. Casting off the obligation you willingly accepted when you got married, you let your carnal desires flood the forefront of your consciousness. You’re no longer fighting to justify the craving, no longer desperately explaining away the lustful thoughts he stirs up within you with a mere glance. Your breaths are ragged and uneven as you allow yourself to be submerged in these feelings that have been tugging at your mind since you met. 

Your outward reactions to your own intimate musings don’t go unnoticed by Leon as he scrubs the last of the motor oil off of his skin. He’s apparently reached his own breaking point as you hear a low growl behind you only a moment before strong arms wrap around your waist, lifting you into the shower with him. 

Your shirt and pants quickly begin absorbing the warm water cascading down on you from the shower. Before you can begin taking them off, Leon’s lips crash into yours. One hand snakes up the back of your neck, tangling his fingers into the hair at the base of your scalp. He tilts your head up to give him better access to your willing mouth. Your lips instinctively part, making it an effortless endeavor for his tongue to devour you. His other hand crawls to the hem of your T-shirt, slipping underneath to glide up to your bra-clad breasts. 

You can feel his hardening cock rising up and pressing against your clothed sex. Slick starts to pool between your legs, in quantities you had neither felt before nor thought possible. An icy hot tingle sizzles through you as your body ignites in a passionate blaze. A choked moan escapes you as his hand wraps around your breast, squeezing tentatively at first, but with more fervor as the moments tick by. He grips your wet shirt and peels it off of you with ease, breaking the kiss only for seconds before your lips collide once more. Pulling the cups of your bra down, he resumes his intimate massage of your plush breasts. He groans, his cock painfully hard. Your body responds in kind, the slightest friction against your swelling cunt driving bolts of delicious pleasure to surge through you. 

Realizing you’ve been stunned by the intensity of the moment, you finally let your own hands explore. You begin slowly running your hands up his thick chest, caressing his pecs and sliding upward to gently circle your thumb on his pulse point. Your kiss deepens, moans and whimpers swirling around in the steamy air. 

Leon reaches down, unbuttoning and unzipping your shorts. Without completely removing them, he uses the newly gained space to sneak his fingers into your underwear and tease your quivering folds. He groans like a starved man as he feels how slick and creamy your forbidden center is with only a few sensual touches. 

Feeling bold, you trail your hand down his body, stopping briefly to appreciate every rock hard muscle before reaching his cock. Leon’s breath hitches in his throat, a raspy growl tightening into a euphoric moan. His hips thrust into your hand, abs quivering as he succumbs to your erotic touch. His fingers still momentarily while exploring your depths, left without instruction from his brain, now almost completely drained of conscious thought by your ministrations on his steel shaft. He loves you; he fucking loves you and he can’t deny what he needs anymore. He knows his son is a bastard and probably nailing some slut in a high class hotel room, tainted with adulterous debauchery. Granted, he’s about to do the same with you, he knows you put everything into being a good wife; you gave it your all, but a human being can only take so much neglect. Leon knows you need him and he’s going to give you everything. 

Turning off the shower, he lifts you into his arms and brings you to your bedroom; your marriage bed. Though clinging to your skin, Leon manages to rid you of the rest of your soaking wet clothes. His soft lips briskly kiss yours before venturing further down, sloppily nibbling at your collar bone and eventually sucking as much of your pliant breast into his mouth as he can. His tongue swirls around your nipple and his teeth softly graze the sensitive bud. His fingers bury themselves in your sopping cunt again, continuing their earlier excursion. 

You feel like you're orbiting the moon right now, between the sensations on your breast and the ones between your legs, you wondered how you never knew intimacy could be this pleasurable. You’ve never felt anything even close to this with your husband. He takes no time to do stuff like this. He rolls on top of you, pumps inside you a few times, then finishes. There’s not much to it. He’s in and out like a doctor who’s on his last appointment for the day and already late for his 4 o’clock tee time. But Leon…he’s giving you sensations you didn’t know existed on this plane. Your body feels like it’s burning in the most delicious fire, blazing through your form and leaving scorching pleasure in its wake. His fingers hit a particular spot on your inner walls that rockets you into the stratosphere. An unrefined, guttural moan cuts through the air, fired from your parted lips as your back bows off the bed. 

Noticing your reaction, Leon amps up his ministrations, stroking your spongy pleasure center with expertise. You’re writhing in the throws of passion and euphoria. Having surrendered to your baser instincts, you arch your back again, letting every moan and whimper fly past your lips, unencumbered because, fuck it, you don’t even care if the neighbors hear. Every rub of his fingers on the sensitive trigger within your vault has you seeing heaven. 

“You're so beautiful,” Leon purrs. He drops his lips to yours again, swallowing your sweet, melodic vocalizations. His pace quickens, his strokes becoming quicker and more intense. The build towards something that can only be described as magical progresses rapidly. Your breaths are rapid and shallow; your heart races, pounding heavily in your chest. Sweat beads all over your body, leaving your skin glistening in the afternoon light. 

His thumb begins rubbing your clit, that sensitive bundle of nerves you hardly knew existed until it swelled as a result of Leon's expert touch, making you feel like a horny teenager. Finally, the fireworks explode, your entire body contracts, cunt squeezing down on the fingers inside you. Pleasure overflows in every cell as your brain floods you with dopamine. An ecstatic cry bubbles from deep within your lungs, surging through your throat and curling around Leon's tongue as it surges through your mouth. 

When the waves of rapture subside, you fall limp on the bed. Your pussy finally releases Leon's fingers and he slowly withdraws them. He brings the delicious essence to his lips, sucking your delectable juices clean off his hand, the act causing your eyes to overflow with lust and your jaw to slip just slightly open. His gaze bores into yours and you know this is only the beginning; the preliminaries. 

He gently crawls on top of you, capturing your lips in another decadent kiss. His tongue reunites with yours, tenderly caressing your oral muscle. He rolls his hips at a lazy pace, teasingly grinding his length against your drenched cunt. Your senses are on fire yet still hungry for more heat. One of his arms holds him up and the other glides softly down your perfect curves. “I need you, sweetheart. I can’t stop myself anymore,” he murmurs between kisses.

“Don’t stop! I want this! Please! Oh God! I need this!” you beg through heavy breaths as your tongue dances with his. Your arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer, desperate to feel your bodies pressed together even tighter. You feel Leon’s hand slide further down your lithe body, his fingertips leaving buzzing tingles behind. He moans your name like a whispered prayer in your ear, brushing his lips against the supple lobe. Your fingers tangle into his sandy blonde hair as a soft whimper slips out. 

Finally, his hand grips his thick, rock hard cock and guides the tip inside you. Your head digs into the pillow beneath; Chase’s pillow. A twisted sense of satisfaction fills you but disappears just as quickly as the exhilaration of Leon’s incredible dick gliding inside you replaces all conscious thought, lubricated by your natural, creamy essence. A long, desperate moan draws out of you, paradise within reach. Your breasts heave against Leon’s chest as gasps overtake your breathing. His lips dance across your face and jaw as he begins to pump at a teasingly slow pace. He nibbles on your neck, gently biting and sucking your creamy skin. Your back instinctively arches into him, each thrust of his cock along your sensitive walls sending bolts of pleasure up through your spine. 

Your heart is racing, pounding in your ears and hammering in your chest. Your cunt begins to quiver, submitting unconditionally to the pistoning shaft grinding against your inner vault. The warm, electric buildup you can feel inside your lower abdomen grows ever stronger until it’s impossibly tight, ready to burst like a rubber band stretched too far. Finally, you reach your peak, your pussy squeezing Leon tight like a greedy sinkhole of lust and sex. A deep gasp sucks in the thick air around you, replenishing the oxygen that’s been dragged from your lungs to fuel your earth shattering orgasm. “Oh God, Leon!” you cry out, your hands gripping his thick biceps as you ride out your climax. Your slick pussy squeezes his cock, a vice grip holding onto his manhood like it never wants to let him go. Your thighs tighten around his waist as euphoria rocks through you. His touch is like a drug and you’re already addicted. 

A low growl rumbles in Leon’s chest, manifesting to a guttural moan the erupts from his lips just as he thrusts inside you one last time to spill his cum deep within your womb. “Fuck…” he pants out with winded breaths. He collapses onto the bed next to you, sweat beading down his forehead. You both lay there recovering from the intensity of your tryst for several moments before Leon rolls to his side and props himself up in his elbow. Smiling affectionately, he leans down and kisses your forehead. “That was amazing…I…I've wanted that for longer than I care to admit…”

You gently cup his face, pulling his face back to yours for a tender kiss. “Leon…” you whimper, letting your voice drift away as your emotions overwhelm you. You're having trouble admitting to even yourself that you wanted him too…for a long time. 

He gleans your meaning anyway and rolls to cover you partially, capturing your lips once more as you both ride the afterglow.

[leonsliga]

Never too far away 🥰🤘🏼

[justaz]

arthur and all his knights know that merlin has magic (it’s a test leon sets up for each potential round table recruit, they follow merlin out while he’s doing magical things and leon falls behind for a bit to allow the potential recruit to find out merlin’s magic and then he rushes up all out of breath like “did i miss anything? :o” and if the potential recruit goes “nope! all good! he’s just gathering herbs :)” then leon tells arthur who allows them to sit at the round table) and arthur is secretly drafting a magic ban repeal along with all the laws of what kind of magic will be punishable by you know time in the dungeons, a fine, or banishment. merlin doesn’t know. the round table wants it to be a surprise.

anyway, some curse gets placed on camelot and they need a sorcerer and arthur + his knights watch gaius and merlin coming up with lies on the fly and cringing at how abysmal they are at lying and contemplating how they never found out sooner. gaius does the iconic line of “i have chosen a woman” as the sorcerer, or rather sorceress, to help them out. they have to hide their snickers at the look merlin sends him. uhh instead of the dolma this time tho, the potion turns him into a younger woman who merlin places the moniker of emrys upon.

merlin follows the knights out into the woods and starts his shenanigans. he conjures illusions of emrys to lead the knights all throughout the woods before transforming and meeting the illusion that led arthur astray. arthur is Staring bc hot damn is this sorceress hot- fuck its merlin…eh, merlin was always hot. it tracks he’d be hot as a woman. and she’s wearing purple! arthur always knew purple suited her. he expects emrys to be like dragoon or the dolma and be all sassy and witty but, well, she is witty! just…very, very flirtatious. arthur gets tongue tied at how touchy and seductive and alluring she is.

the other knights’ illusions lead them back together just without arthur and they’re chilling like “oh well, its merlin. he won’t hurt arthur”. emrys gives arthur the cure and brings him back to his knights who are surprised at the sudden appearance and draw their swords. emrys holds up her hands and smirks “i bring him unharmed,” then brings her fingers up to drag under arthur’s jaw, “can’t say much for being untouched.” she winks at arthur and waves her fingers at the knight, “see you around, arthur pendragon”

then she transforms back into merlin and appears behind the knights where lancelot gives him a Look to which he dutifully ignores. arthur asks where merlin is and the knights are like “he hasn’t returned” and merlin is like “hello?? yes i have?? i’m right here??” and the knights go “oh! there you are!! you were here the whole time!! i forgot :)” and merlin looks arthur up and down before teasing too much like emrys “got lucky with a sorceress, did you? imagine what your father would think” before turning and walking away leaving arthur. Hot. and. Bothered.

[asetamago]

Literally my first thought

[woso-dreamzzz]

Difficult VI

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Teen!Reader

Summary: You're a racing star

Ingrid can remember it like it was yesterday.

It wasn't the best race she'd watched, not with you crashing out from third position on the first lap, not when you'd fallen from your bike and rolled on the floor for a bit.

But then you'd gotten up again and you'd gotten back onto your bike and sped off to catch the pack.

It'd been a brutal battle for you to make up the places you lost and then from last you were second, closing in on first around the second to last corner.

Ingrid can remember the commentators when she watched the race back.

"And...Oh my god, Redbull's Rookie sweep pasts her championship rival! From last to first at the first Barcelona MotoGP race, it's the home favourite! The Norwegian raised in Barcelona, the Rookie in her first year! Y/n Engen-León crosses the line! Her first win! One of many I think!"

Ingrid can remember it all so clearly as you parked your bike, took off your helmet and ran at her, sobbing into her shoulder.

It was your first year in MotoGP. It was your first race win too and you sobbed like that little girl who once watched Ingrid lift the Champion's League trophy.

And, now, you're here.

"I'm Max Verstappen, former Formula One driver."

"And I'm Y/n Engen-León, current MotoGP champion and I'm going to be trading in my motorbike for a Formula One car."

You'd been a Redbull girl since your very first race at the tender age of five. It had been on one of the dirt tracks in Mapi's hometown and a Redbull representative had come up to you all at the end of the race to discuss your potential.

From there, you'd grown up driving for Redbull. You'd driven for them in Motocross and then now in MotoGP too.

You were more than happy to drag Ingrid and Mapi along to your interviews and opportunities.

But Ingrid has to admit to some degree of fear seeing you in Max Verstappen's old championship winning car.

It had taken years for Ingrid to get used to you on a bike and while a car is meant to be safer, that fear increases tenfold as she watches you mess around with the steering wheel and test out the pedals.

"I like this," You say to the camera before turning to your parents," Mumma, Mami, check this out."

Always eager, Mapi practically prances forward to look at where you're pointing. Ingrid follows a little more slowly, a tense smile on her face.

"It'll be fine, Mumma," You say, reaching out to take her hand," I'll be okay. I was made for this kind of thing."

As Ingrid watches you peal onto the track, she can't help but think that you're kind of right. You've adored all types of racing since you were tiny, the little daredevil that you were.

It was just luck that Mapi's father got you a bike instead of a kart or else you would have ended up in one of these cars rather than your bike.

You had a need for speed and a racer's disregard for speeding laws.

You took to all forms of racing as you turn through a corner neatly and cross the line.

"Woo!" You say, pumping your fist as you step out," That was good. Was it good?"

Max Verstappen looks up from the data, nodding. "Two seconds off the reference lap."

You grin. "Not so bad for my first time, huh?"

He purses his laps, eyes studying you. "I think you could do better."

Your grin stretches into a smirk. "I know I could do better."

You do lap after lap after lap until your barely one-hundredth of a second off your reference lap.

Ingrid knows, in theory, that Formula One racing is different to your racing but you make it look so easy. You look like you've been racing cars your entire life.

"Look at her," Mapi says in awe," Look! Look!"

Your last lap is your best, one tenth faster than the reference and you're grinning like you've just won your home race again.

Your fists pump up as you jump from the car, pulling off your helmet.

"Did you see? Mumma, Mami? Did you see?"

"I got a video!" Mapi says," I'll send it to your Abuelo, he'll be so excited to see this!"

After your drive in the car, you end up in another interview with Verstappen.

You've become quite the star in your racing series and the team are really trying to capitalise on it.

"Yeah, I mean," Ingrid catches you saying," I've been racing since I was little. My Abuelo got me my first bike when I was still young and we had to hide it from my Mumma for months because she didn't approve."

Ingrid can still remember seeing you on your first bike. She can still remember thinking that it was surprising they made ones that small. She can still remember your racing suit and your helmet and the joy you got out of something simple as going up and down the bumps of the dirt track.

"I don't think I can even explain what I felt when I won in my rookie year. It means so much to me and my parents had to sacrifice a lot to help me on my journey. I didn't have quite as much success in Motocross as I'm having in MotoGP right now. I know my Mumma would prefer if I chose a safer sport but I think that's why I try so hard. I want to prove to her that despite all these injuries and despite all the danger, she did a good thing in letting me keep racing. I could have driven under Spain's flag if I wanted but Mumma's Norwegian and I'm Norwegian and I want to make her proud."

Something in Ingrid breaks then and she turns her head into Mapi's neck, tears falling from her eyes as she tries not to sob out loud.

Of course she's proud of you. She's so proud of you. She'll always be proud of you.

With or without a championship.

"And of course, my Mami and her family are the ones that got me into racing. Her father used to be my mechanic when I was a kid and Mami was always signing me up for races and supporting me when I got hurt. She designs all my helmets. I think my first win at Barcelona was really the culmination of all the hard work she put into me and my racing."

Verstappen nods along with you. "Would you say that your mothers are your biggest supporters?"

You grin. "Definitely."

[marcskywalker]

alright alright

Merlin has made a habit of laying protective charms and spells on Arthur's armor. The man is a big liability (king or not, Merlin will say it as it is). Running into danger head first, without thought or concern, is his top favorite activity.

It's what makes Arthur Arthur; his courage in the face of death.

So yes, it's become a necessity for Merlin to charm his armor for strength and endurance.

He decides to charm the King's new set of armors in his royal chamber in the middle of the day, while Arthur is away presumably listening to another one of mind numbingly boring reports from his knights.

What is a safer place for Merlin other than this room? Where else can he walk in as he pleases? Move about as he pleases? Leave a mess, jest around, lock the door and loiter as he pleases?

Within these walls, no one would dare to question him.

The King's trust is loud enough.

So, Merlin lays out all the metal on the floor and begins. He holds the cold, sharp chestpiece in his hand. Imagines Arthur under it; Arthur's beating heart and his warm, soft, breakable skin.

His magic flows out of him without command or permission, desperate to erase all the images of his mortal king bleeding and weak.

Oh, protectors of Earth and Magic! Cradle him as you would cradle your son.

His eyes are ember, words still on his lips, the shimmer of magic over the metal, when door swings open.

"Leon is one of my oldest and closest friends, but by Gods he makes me miserable," Arthur lets out a long breath, as if to blow out all the air in his body, looking right at Merlin as he does so.

The gold finally fades from his eyes but Merlin is frozen in place, his bones and breath refusing to move, watching Arthur's face scrunch in confusion, a myriad of feelings flashing through his face before settling on stern eyes and pursed lips.

"Mingling with the druids a lot now, are we?"

"Arthur, I-"

"I know, I know!" he sighs, commanding his face to neutrality, stepping over Merlin and metal towards his desk, "They are my people, too. You're allowed to trade and learn from each other."

Despite his resigned tone, Merlin knows how hard Arthur has worked to ensure a place for Druids in Camelot. Writing in stone, clear as day, that he is more than his father's son; he has claimed them as citizens of Camelot, opening the doors to courts and trade and provisions equally for all in the Kingdom.

Watching Arthur grow into the prophesied will be Merlin's greatest pride. Even if magic is still prohibited to practice under the law, magic users aren't hunted like animals for existing. And Merlin has all the faith in his King that when the time is right, he will bring magic back into the land. Until then, he's happy to live in half shadows.

"I'm allowed to learn magic?" he can't help the skepticism and shock bleed into his tone.

"Well, no! I'm not allowing you for anything, Merlin. But I'm not stupid enough to believe that that's about to stop you."

"So," he draws out the word, unsure of how to step out of the conversation. Unsure if he should even be stepping out of the conversation. "I can learn more magic?"

"You know how I feel about this. The price I have- we have had to pay for it. If you still find yourself curious, do what-" gestures to the laid out armor on the ground, "-ever this is. I only ask that you be careful."

"I'm enchanting it. To keep you safe."

"In exchange for what, Merlin?"

"Nothing-", Merlin loses his grip on the conversation faced with the frightened heartbreak on Arthur's face; the courageous bones bending in unfamiliar ways. "I swear. Nothing. It's not any big magic. The druids do it all the time, we won't have to pay a price for this, Arthur."

"We'll see."

[melankkholy]

a christmas secret

✎ If you knew your boyfriend turned out to be such an asshole, you wouldn't even look at him in the first place. You'd have called off the engagement, of course, but you chose to stay for the sake of someone who sweetened your days and that someone is none other than your fiancé's brother. Leon.

cw: MDNI, shameless smut, p in v, cheatingz!, unprotected segs goes hard ngl, bre3ding mayhaps, family drama aka kennedy family is the new kardashians, not proofread, sorry, praise kink, stomach bulge!, finger!ng, fem! reader, MDNI

For Leon, this Christmas is overly festive, too much of an extravaganza. He has always hated family gatherings and has always been the type of boy who would retreat to his room after grabbing his share of the dishes his mother cooked for the house guests. No girls to bring home for his parents, no serious talks with them at all, and the concept of marriage has always been a total can of worms. For him there was Ada and the many nights he shared with her, nights of “oh, yeah. We fuck each other, and we don’t put a name to it.” This was more than enough for him but nothing to last forever.  

Until one day the tide completely turned the night he happened to meet you. He was quite surprised when he heard that his little brother, the one he thought was nothing but a good-for-nothing, had finally met “the one” a year ago. Quite frankly, all Leon could think of was a body mass with every known sexual disease in the world collectively stored in his nuts and sperm. Yes, he was clearly not very fond of his brother.  

He did, though, at the request of his father and mother, show up at last year’s get-to-know-the-new-girl-in-law dinner.  

And that was the night he saw you for the first time. The truth of the matter is you were far out of his brother’s league, along with the girls from all over the States, but Leon could only see an incapable man next to a pretty girl like you. Still, for the sake of pretending to be the good brother, he did the laughing and ate the food cooked that night. He pulled off a good Kennedy act, the best version of Kennedy his father could muster. Whatever his brother was, Leon was the opposite, and his father couldn’t have asked for anything more. He didn’t care what exactly was going on between his sons. The Dad of the Year, absolutely.  

Nobody could blame the old Kennedy. Leon was alright. Whatever. The other boy, however, is the equivalent of a child who was supposed to be jettisoned from the beginning and who, despite the condoms and the pills, was still accidentally conceived one night. He’s the headache itself. The only problem is that he has been so fucking blind to see this kind of unpleasantness and discomfort he has created for years. The guy lives in his own fantasy world.  

How he found someone like you is a veiled story behind the scenes.  

Leon really wanted to ask, quite a few times, but something stopped him, and the subject remained like a chest of unspoken family secrets. It went as far as getting your engagement with his brother.  

It was only a summer night when Leon found you crying alone by the pool outside the house that the tables were turned. The mother of your tears: his moronic brother. But why? Because he will never understand you. Thinking that you might actually find true love now seemed like a rookie mistake to you. So you cried. For Leon, it was just sad. Who knows how many times he had to comfort and sometimes even hug his brother’s female friends?  

Oh, and of course there was also the part of providing the most important detail that his brother was missing. Fucking those pretty girls. Hugs and heart-to-heart talks always led to the same thing. You, like the other girls, had found yourself in the same trap—the trap you had willingly walked yourself into—on top of him on a night of poolside fucking in a lounge chair. Doesn’t that make Leon an asshole? Perhaps, but at least Leon’s the kind of guy who has a sense of reverence for the women he sleeps with, whereas his brother... Well, Leon can’t find the right words in English for that guy.  

No beating around the bush, Leon wants the same thing tonight. The sex. Your sex. Why would he come to this stupid Christmas dinner anyway? For you, that’s the answer. Couple that with the fact that his job has kept him away from you for a couple of weeks—from the scattered things in life he likes to do—and you’ve got a man who’s been feeling peckish for many weeks.  

“Come on, big boy. Jus’ have a bite to eat.”  

Leon’s brother’s soused tones interrupt the eye contact between you and Leon, the one that has been covertly lingering on and off. He’s a piece of shit. It’s scarcely seven, and already he’s drunk as a doornail.  

Like a demented child, he leans over the table and brings his fork to Leon’s mouth, making artificial train noises in midair.  

“Now, now, my boy. Show me your mouth. Honk hooooooonk! Toot toot!”  

Your beloved fiancé forces the fork into Leon’s lips, which are pressed together to smooth matters over despite the sour expression on Leon’s face, as if he had just bitten into a lemon, and he doesn’t do much to hide it.  

At this point in your life, what could be more embarrassing than witnessing your fiancé doing this in front of all his relatives? And that’s coming from you—someone who usually doesn’t give a shit about relatives.  

Mercifully, Leon’s father saves the day when he raises a full glass of wine to draw the attention of the guests at the table to him.  

“Here’s to my beautiful family and to many happy years with them. With you guys. I love you all.”  

A sweet harmonization prevails around the table courtesy of this man. At least the eyes are where they should be, on the table, on the food, on whatever the good things are. What of your eyes? They are hunting for certain shades of blue, and when they locate them, the same kind of serene smile sits on his lips as on yours.  

Why is it that you feel so safe around him, but so bare around his brother and his kin? He’s their blood, but he acts just the way you always need him to be.  

Blending into your vista and turning the picture upside down, a red face suddenly intervenes between you and Leon. As it always does.  

“Heyyy.” He orates garishly and kisses your cheek.  

That’s not serious. Why must he butt his nose into absolutely everything? Sometimes you just want to throw away the ring and give a basket, then spit in his face and run like hell.  

Apart from the striking blue gaze, far away from Leon’s gaze, your fiancé’s attention is focused on you. More precisely, down your cleavage, or even exactly at the low-cut level.  

“What?”  

“What what what?” He’s parroting you, yammering.  

“Stop drinking like a horse and quit clowning around.”  

“Why? Tits the size of my head—”  

“Why don’t you shut your mouth? There are kids around. Screw you.” You look askance at him, but all to no avail. Yes, everything happens out of the prying eyes of the relatives—except for one person (Leon!), you and your fiancé are bickering at the mouths of each other. An outsider would even make a compliment about your idealistic relationship, saying something like—what a romantic lovebird these two are."

“Ha. Nice.” Your lover almost burps with a bitter taste on his tongue. In your face. “Huh. How about making them new cousins?” And as if his sobriety wasn’t already bad enough, he, of course, dares to dare to think about anything that pertains to his dick. What an idiot. Like he can even fuck you. This guy has been dead for some time. The alcohol does that shit, he says, but he’s always been all thumbs, dick down.  

“Get lost. Seriously. I’m on my period, anyway.” You lie, and within a split second your fiancé responds with a horrified scowl that is woven across his face like a tapestry. Of course you’re engaged to a misogynist and a guy who’s allergic to the subject of menstruation.  

“Yuck. No way. ‘m going to go now.”  

“What? Where to?”  

He stands up heedlessly, scrambling up the chair with the back of his shoe as you pelt him with a barrage of follow-up questions.  

“Hey, guys! I’m outta here.”  

He waves to everyone like a famous singer at a concert hailing his fans from the stage.  

This fucking guy...  

The assembled folks watch in silence for a spell as your fiancé staggers along in a drunken swagger. Even Leon watches him, and he knew from the moment he received the invitation that he was going to be subjected to such a moonstruck stunt. More or less, he could have guessed that the main character would be his stupid, dickhead of a brother.  

You try to recover from this situation with a short ha! of laughter without even letting the situation escalate into a real problem. “He’s too busy. Even on New Year’s Eve. Got... a call... from work. Yeah. He did—God. What a man. He makes me so proud.”  

What a shock.

Leon’s holding his laughter like it’s a sneeze at your eye-watering performance. Turns out everyone in this house who has or is about to have the last name Kennedy is always obliged to deal with the chaos created by that mindless pain in the ass. Tonight was no different from any other disaster, and Leon knows you’re a real Kennedy now.

“Yes, indeed. He’s just recently qualified. The boy is quite overwhelmed with business.” Mrs. Kennedy, sitting next to Leon and across from her husband, is quick to gloss over her young son’s asinine mistakes. It’s hard not to admire her as she does so. It’s her aura that speaks, not her, and it’s at that particular minute that you decide that some of Leon’s facial features descend from her. Like mother, like son.  

The table stills after another parental rescue drill. Not a bad kind of night, you might say. The conversation circulates. You make the acquaintance of people who aren’t so black and white. Turns out the Kennedy bloodline isn’t all bad, sort of. American as apple pie, Italian as... pizza?  

All this talking, socializing, and blah blah blah goes right through your social battery. That’s enough people and new faces. It wouldn’t hurt to venture out into the garden and catch some air. Maybe light a cigarette. You never know.  

Excusing yourself from the throngs of people, you finally step out of the back door of the kitchen through the patio door leading to the backyard.

The bracing air from yesterday’s foot-deep snow is wafting sweetly across your face. The ground beneath your feet is still dewy, and the caked snow sticks to your soles. Too much on your mind to give a crap. That stupid boyfriend of yours is the culprit of it all. Easy.

Raising the joint in your hand, you roll a cigarette and cradle it between your lips. You dig in your pocket for the lighter you think is in your dress pocket, but no luck so far.

Within a scant few seconds, the gentle gusts of breeze blow into waves of bone-chilling cold and spray your skin under the thin fabric of your dress. Silly you are. It’s a recipe for disaster to be going out in such weather without even putting on a single jacket.

You’re kicking yourself from the inside.  

Luckily, the sliding door behind you flings to the side. It’s none other than your soon-to-be brother-in-law. Squinting at you in the twilight, as if he’s judging you. Yes, yes, yes, yes. What a way to be out in the cold, damn it. He most likely will lecture you. You know the drill.

“Is this the way to go out in this cold, sweetheart?”  

Called it!  

You just shrug your shoulders, and Leon lines up next to you. He looks at the cigarette between your lips with a bogus hint of titter. “You know these things will kill you.”

What a wiseass.

As you flick your lighter, he takes off his brown jacket, which you think is new and pretty. He looks good with it.

Unexpectedly, the gesture is a small token from his heart. He slides the jacket over your shoulders, and you notice the flashes of sparkles that fill his eyes. Tonight, especially after yesterday’s bellowing of flaky snow, there is a distinctive gale in his eyes under the arch of the constellations and the blue-gray moon—like two small globes of blue-sky moon.  

“You must really like staring at me.”  

This man is a dab hand at deflecting attention with a comment that will definitely ruin the whole moment. It must be a family thing, you decide.  

“No, I’m surprised. Look at you looking like such a show-off. You’ll catch cold.” Your voice is laughable and blurred from the cigarette between your lips.  

“Don’t even think about it.”  

Just as you’re about to take the jacket off you and return it to his arms, Leon holds you by the arm and then intercepts you. Doesn’t take you seconds to register that you have been missing his touch all along in your memory. It’s so distant yet so fresh.  

The stillness of the night falls between you, leaving a familiar glow inside your bones—white and aurelian. It’s all the same to Leon. Moments like these are potentially precarious, and it’s usually Leon who does something to diffuse the situation in those peak seconds of emotional overload. Practical wit.  

He takes the lighter from the palm of your hand and with a few flicks, ignites the cigarette’s stub. His free hand instinctively cups around the bluish, wavering flame. He watches and waits until you take a drag — notwithstanding the sharp, burning wallop searing through his palm. Worth it, he figures. The agony in his hand is only temporary, a demising singe. Yet the fire inside you? That’s something else, something you both share. You’re burning in your lungs. He’s burning in his hand. Unquestionably, with an esoteric surrender. 

“Thanks.” You exhale away from him. In his case, Leon fiddles idly with the same lighter. He looks contemplative.  

Must be an acquired connotation to that expression on his face. Sometimes you really wonder what on earth is going on in his head. You would have sacrificed your fiancé to cut open Leon’s head and find out what’s going on inside his head during such hush-hush intervals, really. It wouldn’t be half bad. The world would be rid of a piece of shit, and eventually, you would have peeled back the layers and understood who Leon Kennedy really was.  

You raise your brow at him and grill him while he snatches the fag he robbed from your lips. He takes a long draw. By heart he knows the taste of your lips, all paper-wrapped and kissed.  

“Whatcha got there? Cherry lip gloss?”  

“Yup.” You hum in approbation, and now you watch the heady vapors drifting from his lips, frost-kissed red as fresh grains in a pomegranate against the biting cold.  

What is clear is that you both crave to be with each other. Why, Anna wants Vronsky like Vronsky wants Anna, like Vronsky has that mad, demeritorious longing for Anna. And for Leon, you’re what they might label that weird thing inside him.

“Come with me to the greenhouse. Now.”  

“What? N-now? The surge in your speech ripples, either from the cold or sheer astonishment.

With the last puff, Leon throws the cigarette on the snow-carpeted ground and treads on the glowing ash with the sole of his shoe. The next thing you know—  

He grabs you by the wrist and drags you behind him to the glass vestibule of his mother’s one and only conservatory. All this silence, all these initiatives are the signs that he has a master plot in his head, and you’re just getting the hang of it.

“This is insane. House is teeming with people. We... we should wait for them to sleep.”  

Your words make no sense, at least for Leon, and yes, they are sensible, but Leon’s a recalcitrant one. He’s straight in his head.  

“Oh, that’s it?” He lets you in and zooms out the door behind you. Naturally, he first snoops around to see if the place is empty or not. He doesn’t have to search every corner. The survival instinct that comes with his profession assures him that the place is pretty vacant from the moment he steps foot inside.

Your tentative steps are no different than trekking through a minefield. You trust him, but getting nabbed is always a contingency.

“Yeah. Fat chance, sweetheart. It’s now or never.” Leon whispers a brickbat, mimicking the way you croon your words when you feel imperiled. The two of you cross a lane, and Leon turns to you. Curling his fingers around the delineation of your waist, he lifts you onto a sturdy mahogany tabletop that his mother usually decorates with lovely flowers. Show off.  

“What if someone—”  

He heckles you obliquely with his index finger, pressing it just slightly to your lips.  

“I’ll be completely honest when I say this to you. Everybody knows that we’re fucking.”  

“They do?”  

Leon offers one affirmative shake of the head. “My dad and ... my mom... well, she knows everything.”  

“Christ.”  

How much more scandalous information can Leon reveal about his family, you ponder, as your darling brother-in-law rucks the hem of your dress up and you, with what must be muscle memory, spread your legs apart to give him more room to do his thing.

“I knew it.”  

He makes a subtle jab at the sheer wetness staining the frilly seam of your panties. Inoffensive, alright. Call a spade a spade; you’ve been sitting wet from the very beginning of the evening—or rather, from the second you glanced in Leon’s direction. Kind of like a stupid baby who peed her pants.  

“You’re wet, missy.”  

Don’t mind your panties skimming down to your ankles, just around your heels.  

His touch, the one you have been yearning for, sinks into you in two fingers, scissoring your pussy with his middle and ring finger, and your heart nearly pops out of your throat. He could have taken out his phone and taken a picture of a memory he didn’t want to forget, a cover photo that could have been the most memorable snapshot of your face—the most beautifully captured moment of the year.

“So tight,” his whisper sears your chest, “he could never give you what you want, and he will never give you what you want. Gotta be thankful that you have me.” 

Well, you’ve never been a thankful person, but maybe now is the time for a character transformation. Maybe you really should thank your brother-in-law for his very existence this year as he fucks his fingers into your velvety folds.  

“Hmmm? What you say? Don’t you fuck him just to keep yourself for me?”  

“Maybe.” Your breath touches his cheek, like a summery kiss, as he thumbs the spot that makes you squeeze down on his digits.  

“Not the answer I expected, though not that I care. I have more important things to do.”  

He’s talking about important things like you, to be sure, or your lovely cunt where the slick is bleeding on his fingers.  

When he’s sure he can fit himself in, he samples his glistening fingers himself, in his own mouth. A familiar taste, yes, but it leaves a trace of saccharin on his tongue that he has been denied for quite a long time. When it’s forbidden, it’s the lushest.  

“Maybe I’ll eat you tomorrow morning after breakfast.”  

How funny. No offense, but he sucks at these quip games.  

Neither he nor you have the patience to wait any longer in the rush of this. Whatever this is. Quick as it is, Leon wraps your legs around his hips, which he grasps by your calves.  

You do the rest and release him with your hand, loosening the belt around his waist and running your hand down to the zipper of his pants. Either it’s something in your imagination, or tonight he seems bigger to your eyes than you can ever remember him being. That, and the scars, which you can now observe so vividly for the first time. They’re emblazoned on his pale hide and mar him in angry pinks and ultraviolets. As much as you want to touch them, to plant those healing kisses, it’s Leon who stops you.  

“We don’t have time.”  

You already know that. In his defense, Leon and you have made one thing clear from the beginning: no feelings attached!  

So maybe in another universe you had the right Kennedy, and you were the one who lay with him in the same bed. You had a life beside him, with a cat and a dog, plus a roof over your head. Tragically, in this universe you were the cheating slut who cuckolded your fiancé, and he’s the asshole who banged his brother’s fiancé.  

“We don’t have time,” says the smartass, as he strokes the reddish tip of his cock back and forth over your wet entrance and repeats it like a looped movie script. It’s enough to piss you off, but your impatience is through the roof.  

“Please. Please, Leon.”  

The first thing he’s anticipating is the begging stage. But he wants more than that. And you know it.  

“Expecting better words from that witty mouth.”  

You bite your lower lip, and no, that’s not what he’s expecting nor what he aspires to.  

Leon pulls back a little and lays hold of his cock by the shaft. It’s leaking from the tip, and he smears the pre-cum by gliding the fat head of his dick into your slit. Smart saving, no wasted material.  

“See?” He massages the fluids with his ring finger, rubbing everything inside. “How your little pussy loves me. Your body wants me, sweetheart.” 

He then spits on his palm, garbing the dew over his cock, and proves his practical acumen even if he comes up with a solution that is not particularly hygienic.

“Now you tell me. Want me to fuck a little Kennedy in this pretty pussy?”

You should be ashamed of yourself. That you’re dying for this. Synonyms for these images of humiliation, however, don’t even cross your mind during those abandoned seconds.

You don’t know how many times you have shaken your head at him, positively, but it’s so worth it to see that boyish grin on his face. 

“I want it, Leon. Nothing but you.” You are no longer begging but spewing the truth as almost a last resort.  

Leon feels a thrill of elation at the way you squeeze him as he slides into you, tighter than sin. Your lips are sucking in a delicate puff of breath, and he’s not even inside you.  

The table beneath you is virtually slipping out of your palms, but fortunately you have him. He always holds you and always gives you whatever you want. He pulls on your hips, and moonlit tears well up in your eyes, stinging your lashes.  

“Damn, gorgeous. Can barely fucking fit.” The rasp of his lilt in his voice, the rush of his fingers on your hips. It’s all turning your head topsy-turvy. Slow, perhaps lazy thrusts push inside you, and your fluttering walls memorize the shape and outline of a cock that fucks you up inside and out. He leans back and groans as his dick melts into you—inch by inch, deeper and deeper, and the parting of his lips breaks into a grin as you near your limit with a newly forming bulge inside your stomach.

Only then do you auscultate the scratchy urge seething inside him.

“Look at this. Too big for ya? God—missed this pretty pussy so bad.” 

More than you have missed him?

Or does he even realize how wretchedly you tighten around his cock when you hear the subtle eulogy out of his mouth?

This is Leon you’re talking about. Of coure, he feels you. The guy worships you.  

He knows and reads your body, your soul. Goes further when you gently repel back to meet his hips, to less when he realizes that your hand is curling into a fist on his abdomen, and tenses up when he lashes your cervix with a very hard stab.

Everything is for you: every error he has made and will ever repeat and every right he will ever do.  

So is the way his lips quest for yours. The kiss rips out everything in your brain that belongs to survival instincts—rough and soft in equal measure—utterly debauched. His demanding hands play with your right tit poking out of your dress as if it were his own personal meat and vein toy. Hands reach up from his biceps down to his forearms, helpless, and you cling tightly to his shoulders because his body is the only thing that is holding you on the end of the table right now. He’s the only thing keeping you here, against the freezing degrees outside, against the happy house imaginary, against the people in it.  

Your mutinous whimpers choke in your own throat in an audible volume, and you recoil from his lips as if you are screaming in a nightmare but happen to have lost your voice. Eyes glazed, and both your lips are alizarin to the point of bleeding.  

“Look what I fucking do to you, greedy girl.” He reaches down your neck. Doesn’t choke you, though.

He’s the one who made you this way. Tonight he’s just more cynical than you’ve ever known him to be. Dirty talk will definitely rattle around in your brain in the most unlikely of places—maybe during a briefing, or maybe when you’re sitting with your beloved husband-to-be, sipping coffee or hot chocolate together.  

“I can’t. Leon. I think I—” The little words you’re trying to say just won’t come out of your mouth. You push so hard, but there’s simply no way through. Those mental words linger in your mind like clouds of rumination, leaving you mouth agape.  

“Yeah, me too.” He whispers quite musings as his thumb finds the pearl of your clit.

That’s exactly where the hell breaks loose. You no longer possess the vigor to spring up on the table, nor does he have the stamina to be sucked into the molten lava in which he’s melting and kindling.  

Drunken mistakes or impulses often drive people to make a choice they will regret. Your ineptitude is a down payment. Right there and then, you blanket his still throbbing cock, and he’s blinking his eyelashes together. All that ponderous, stinging thrusting, now numb and sporadic.  

“I’ll give you, give you—my baby.”  

Famous last words.

Still, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. Really, the very essence of male beauty must have been invented for him, or you’re just too fucked up here.

To him, you’re so beautiful, and you take his cock so nicely. Absolutely worth its weight in gold.

With his face sunk into your neck, he moans, making a note of total bliss as he bottoms out, filling you as intensely as possible. Leon betrays a breath of air and closes his eyes for a second as your lovely pussy sucks in every lingering drop.

Your pulse is as senile as an oldie; you’re flushed and panting, gripping the edge of the table beneath you.

The rank ham-fistedness of your conduct dawns on both of you as you both only just regain your composure.

“Merry Christmas, beautiful.” So effortlessly, as if what happened between you hadn’t even had a spare moment to touch you—both emotionally and physically—as if he isn’t still inside you, he gives you his New Year’s wishing.  

“Merry Christmas, Leon.” Back at him, you sigh exasperatedly. No harm done. Can’t help wishing that the new year will be spent right next to him.

“Are you ready to get up, or should I carry you?”  

“Have I told you how hilarious you are?”  

“Oh, honey. The girls love it. So do you.”  

He crowns his comedy rehearsal, which is guaranteed to get a standing ovation, with a conical hat that he finds on the table at a random and very absurd moment and plonks it on your head. You nearly flinch.  

“There you go. Now you fit the theme.” 

[sweets3rial]

i wanted it to be you. (II)

ch. 1 // ch. 2

di!leon x fem!reader

summary: when Leon thinks things are too late, he gets a friendly reminder that things are never too late.

tags: angst/comfort, happy endings, fluff, wedding ceremony, marriage, vows, talks about future, small mention of overbearing in-laws, reader having many second thoughts, drunk letters/vows, Chris and Claire Redfield mentioned, runaway bride, panic/anxiety attacks, Leon loves you, time skips, teasing, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before ya' tap it)

warnings: panic and anxiety attacks

word count: 10.3K (yikes srry ya'll)

“my dream house?”

“yeah, tell me.” he urged, bumping your hip with his. you looked up into the sky, pondering his question. it was a good question. you’d never thought of something like that before. you were so used to your two-bedroom and one-half-bathroom apartment.

“well, i want lots of greenery. like plants in every corner and in every room.” you began, using your spoon as a little wand as you spoke. “i also want a lot of warm lights, to give the house a nice welcoming vibe to it,”

he hummed, nodding as you finished each sentence. “i like earthy tones or nude tones, nice soft couches, and a stone fireplace. a big living room and a large dining room- y’know how in those movies where the rich sad family gathers for dinner and it’s very awkward and quiet?”

his eyebrows furrowed, “you want something like that?”

you chuckled, “no, but i want my dining room to look like that just less … sad.”

“i see, it’s like those where the father is at the end and the mother at the other end,”

“exactly,” you smiled wider. you picked a cherry floating atop your frozen yogurt, taking it by the stem and bringing it to his lips. he opened his mouth with an audible sound, wrapping his cold lips around the fruit and plucking it off the stem.

you flicked the stem out of your fingers and onto the street where it’ll be swept away in the wind and trampled on by those who walked by.

“i want a large backyard, with either a poo or just a large field of grass.” you smiled at the thought of walking out onto your porch as an old feeble woman to enjoy a cup of coffee as you stared out into your backyard to watch the sun set or rise. or even watch your future kids play with the family dog.

you never wanted to have kids. just the thought of splitting yourself in half while pushing out new life sent chills up your spine. but sometimes, the idea of holding a child to your chest and watching it grow. the idea of listening to them laugh and play, watching as they discovered new interests and learned new things, and being alive to discover the person they will become, doesn’t sound too bad.

“i want a balcony, one that stretches from one side of the house to the other. that way i can sit outside and i don’t know enjoy a nice cigarette.”

a laugh erupted from his chest at the thought of you only wanting a balcony to smoke a cigarette. but then that image warped into him watching you from the door smoking that cigarette. the wind blowing in your hair, the sun kissing your skin, your clothes flapping against your skin.

he imagined you’d be wearing a baggy shirt, maybe one of his shirts. the wind blowing up from the balcony would cause your shirt to cling to you. to your curves and the dips of your body, the purchase of your hips, and the slim of your waist.

you’d turn to him with your elbows leaned up against the railing behind you, cigarette between the plump skin of your lips as you beckoned him over to join you.

“i had a friend,” you started, interrupting his small daydream.

“her parents had this master bedroom. when you walked in, to your left was a sliding door that led to the balcony overlooking her backyard, and then to the right was a couple’s bathroom,” you sighed at the memory, you envied her.

one, because her parents were happily married and slept in the same bed. two, because she had a big house with a large backyard. and three, because she was happy. she lived luxuriously in her big house, she was spoiled, and her parents doted on her. her life was perfect.

yours, not so much.

“her mom occupied one sink with her makeup and her jewelry, and her dad occupied the other with cologne and little figures,” you gulped down a lump in your throat, looking up at him to see him already looking at you. you could see the sad look on his face. the look of pity and sadness, it left a stab in your heart knowing that you probably ruined his night for him.

“i want that.” your words left your throat with a small croak. you weren’t just talking about a couples bathroom with a jacuzzi bathtub but also to be happy. to live in a large house, to be happy with your future husband and kids, to enjoy luxurious jewelry and clothes.

his heart hurt at the look in your eyes, the yearning and the hope. he could see the pain as you spoke about your friend, even if you were smiling as if it was a good memory. he wanted to say, i can give you that.

he wanted to give you that. not only for you but also for himself, that way when you beckon him over as you smoke your cigarette he can join your side. his daydream began to play again; as he joined your side, you’d put your cigarette out and wrap your arms around his torso with a sigh.

he could smell the shampoo in your damp hair and the lotion you lathered onto your skin — along with a hint of his cologne from the baggy t-shirt that belonged to him. the wind was nice and fresh, a cooling breeze along with the warm morning sun. he’d shut his eyes and hold you to his chest, slowly swaying you back and forth as he enjoyed the warmth from the sun along with the warmth from your body.

“that sounds nice,” he looked down at you, “peaceful,”

you smiled up at him, licking your sticky lips, “yeah, it does,”

your smile slowly faded as you began to doze off, he was very … pretty. the way his dirty blonde hair framed his face so perfectly. golden strands that are soft like silk and fluffy like cotton. his eyes, how they gazed into yours, pulling you in deep like the tide of the ocean and drowning you into his being.

they say the eyes are the window to the soul. when someone furrows a brow, you can tell their soul is confused or troubled. when a tear swells you know their soul is sad. when their pupil dilates you know their soul is in love.

there is a ring around his pupils, a ring of blue — the color of his irises. his plump lips are agape, sucking in breaths and letting them go. his lashes flutter with every blink, his eyes trailing every inch of your face, taking every detail of you into memory.

you did the same. scanning over his dimpled cheeks, his high cheekbones, his strong brow bones, his long lashes, the tips of his cold ears, and the window to his soul. all of it.

“you’re so beautiful,” his words came out almost in a drunken whisper. his brain wasn’t able to process any word that left his mouth until it did.

the blood that pumped into your veins instantly ran to your face. your cheeks heating up as your eyes widened, you looked back down at your melted froyo — hoping that taking a bite would hide away your hot cheeks. “thank you,” you mumbled trying to fight back the smile creeping up onto your sticky lips.

“of course uh- back to your dream house-“

“oh right! um-“

------

a living room with comfortable couches and a coffee table in the middle sitting, in front of a large stone fireplace. a kitchen with off-white cabinets, black tile floors, and an island with black marble counters and a deep sink. a dining room with a large table with seven chairs and a runner underneath.

plants, everywhere. in the front, in the large backyard, hanging from the roof, in every room, and in every corner.

large windows that faced the sunset and sunrise, casting down their warmth and triumph into the house to illuminate every corner without a single flip of a light switch. warm lights, in the kitchen, the living room, the dining room, the hallways, everywhere.

a patio out front and out back, a balcony that stretched across the back of the house. five rooms, a guest room, three kids’ rooms, and a master bedroom. a master bedroom where when you walked in, to the left were the sliding doors to the balcony, and to the right a couples bathroom and a walk-in closet.

though, it wasn’t a home. there were drapes over the furniture to keep them from collecting dust. there were no plants just empty corners. the windows were shut and no one lived there.

the rooms were empty, with nothing but carpet and walls. it wasn’t a home. it had no life, no family, no giggles and happiness. it was simply just a house.

“sir, i just need you to sign here and then we’ll lease the house.”

he straightened his posture and blinked away the dryness in his eyes. he looked over at the man, he was about his height. he wore a fancy suit, his mustache was nice and jelled up, his hair slicked back and he smelt of expensive cologne.

he took one last look around the house, his heart aching. if he closed his eyes, he could hear you in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and listening to your music or your podcasts. he could hear your voice calling him from your bedroom. he could hear a dog maybe the giggles of children. but that was just a figment of his imagination.

he was standing in the middle of a house. your dream house. the one you told him about so many years ago. back then, he would’ve said ‘i can give you that’, but he hesitated. would that have made you stay? if he said he was putting all his money into building this house for you.

buying the furniture and the tiling and marble necessary to make it happen. hiring construction workers to add on a balcony and a back porch. would all his effort … would it have made you stay?

“who’s getting married?” the realtor asked, pointing at his boutonniere with his pen. he blinked, once again brought out of his daze.

“uh my … ex-girlfriend,” he grumbled awkwardly. the realtor jumped back a little, a small strand of his slicked-back hair falling out.

“oh,” was all he could say as he too joined him in looking around the house. the real estate agent could tell that this man wasn’t looking to live here by himself, there were so many rooms, rooms for a family. a couples bathroom and a shared walk-in closet.

the realtor sighed, looking up at the man. his eyes were bloodshot red, most likely from crying or being up all night. the bags under his eyes were dark and heavy. he was holding a flask of whiskey and his posture remained slouched.

“Mr. Kennedy,” the realtor clicked his pen and hooked it back onto his suit pocket. he stuffed the paperwork under his arm and puffed out his chest. he was losing business by doing this but he’d rather see a man happy to sell his house rather than sad to sell his house.

“i was young once,” he began, standing next to Leon as he dozed off. “i too had a girlfriend, she was the girl of my dreams,” the man chuckled at the memory.

“we were young and very, very stupid,”

Leon’s head slowly turned towards the man beside him, he found that the realtor was looking out the window with a smile on his face which caused his mustache to turn upwards.

“i was poor and she was wild, i wanted to give her a proper life. so i worked and i worked to the point that i’d tire myself and i barely had time for her.”

Leon let his eyes fall to the ground, this story was sounding a bit too familiar to him. not having time for each other led to miscommunication and arguments all the time. it was not a story that he wished to retell.

“so she left me, one day i came home and she was gone.” the man sniffled a bit, watching a bird fly out of one of the trees that sat on the front lawn. the bird reminded him of her, his songbird, always singing and so loud. though, he loved it when she sang and tweeted like a bird.

her voice was always like music to his ears anyway.

“i crashed her wedding like a fool and she told me that she would’ve been happy getting married without a big ring and a big house. that she would’ve been happy with how things were,” the man let out a sigh, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“so, my word to you is…don’t let it be too late. if you love her and hopefully she still loves you then … make it work.” the man placed a hand on Leon’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. a sign of support for the young man since he too has been in Leon’s position once.

“it is never too late to be what you wanted to be,”

'i wanted it to be you.'

your voice replayed in his head. he could still hear the tears clogged in your throat and he could still see the look in your eye. he could still smell your perfume and feel your lips on his skin. it isn’t too late. he wasn’t too late.

Leon slowly began to nod his head, building up the courage to do something anything. he knew it was time to let you go, that it was over and done.

'do you still love me?'

'goodbye, Leon.'

those were the last words you said to him. he replays the sound in his voice every night and it keeps him awake at night. he tosses and turns, missing the warmth of your body and the feeling of your skin. he feels selfish, yearning for someone who wants nothing to do with him. someone who is getting married in a few hours.

but you aren’t just anyone. dare say, you are the love of his life.

“thank you, Mr. Gudzynski.” Leon smiled at the man, taking one last chug of the whiskey in his flask before making his way out the door. Chris stood there waiting for him, leaning up against his car with a cigarette hanging from his lips as he stared down at his phone.

upon hearing Leon’s foot crush the rocks beneath him, he looked up. he stomped out his cigarette as he blew out the last puff of smoke.

“how’d it go?” Chris asked, rolling his shoulders to let the sleeves of his suit adjust.

“did you just put out your cigarette on fresh cement?”

“i guess you sold it then,” Chris chuckled dryly.

Leon took a moment to reply, looking at the porch behind him. it was empty, just plain wooden slabs. he knew how much you wanted a patio, this was your house after all.

completely inspired by you. every corner and every detail of this house you had spoken to Leon years ago. he made your dream a reality, though you'll never know that.

“i couldn’t,”

Chris turned to Leon, his frame tensing up, “uh you what?”

“i couldn’t sell it, i just…” Leon ended his sentence with a shrug and much to his dismay, Chris nodded understandably.

“i knew you wouldn’t be able to,” Chris sighed, opening the door to his car.

“what?” Leon said with a lift of his brow.

“just get in,”

the whole drive to the church, Leon could feel his body growing heavier and heavier. he was nervous. unsure of what he should do or say? will he have the time? he was constantly wiping his hands onto his pants, trying to wipe the nerves and sweat away.

he was staring out the window blankly, bouncing his leg and biting on the inside of his cheeks.

~

’stop that,’

‘stop what?’

your fingers reached up to tap his cheek, ‘stop biting your cheeks, you’re making me anxious’

he stopped instantly, licking over the skin that he was just biting at. you sighed, standing in front of him as you fixed his tie. you worked with straightening the silk fabric and tightening it around his neck — not too much.

he looked down at you and his nerves instantly eased. your face was relaxed, your breathing slows, your lashes fluttered with every single blink, and god you were glowing. he couldn’t help but smile, he knew he had no reason to be nervous if you were right by his side.

and here you were; fixing his tie and smoothing out his suit.

‘you got this, it’s just a simple speech, we rehearsed it many times,’ you leaned up onto your tippy toes to place a kiss on his chin. ‘and i’ll be right in the audience supporting you,’

~

his lips curled into a small smile at the memory, he would’ve for sure embarrassed himself if it wasn’t for you being by his side. he remembers it clear as day, standing up on that podium as he received his award, his hands were shaking and his vision was blurry.

he was trying to read off of his speech but he couldn’t. that was until he found you in the room and then suddenly, you two were in the living room of your shared apartment. you were sitting on the couch with takeout in your lap. as he practiced his speech, you’d slurp your noodles or take a bite of your fried rice as you pretended to be a high government official.

once his eyes found yours in the large crowd, you smiled up at him mouthing the words; ‘you got this,’

“we’re here,” Chris sighed aloud. Leon looked up to see many familiar faces walking up the steps into the church, hand in hand and with smiles on their faces. all dressed in black suits and dresses, a simple and traditional color.

you were never a religious woman, you weren’t the type to go to church every Sunday or pray before every meal. but here you were getting married in a church, under the eye of god as if you hadn’t slept with another man just a few months ago.

your eyes were stuck on the cross hanging above you. the hairstylist you hired was busy touching up your hair, your makeup artist was powdering your nose and adding more highlight to your cheekbones consistently saying the same words, ‘make sure you smile that way you can really pop.’

you’d give her a small silent nod, whatever made her happy.

you haven’t smiled once. it was your wedding day. after months of trying on dresses, trying cake flavors, sending out invitations, and picking out bridesmaids. the day was here and you couldn’t smile. you’ve been sitting in this chair for hours, getting your hair and makeup done.

your bridesmaids would come in screaming excitedly while waving around bottles of champagne. you put on a fake smile with fake laughs and giggles but your mind was elsewhere.

you were thinking of a lot. your future after today, losing your last name, kids, and in-laws. but mostly you were thinking about him. it was hard, writing his name down on an envelope and sending it to him through the mail.

your fiancee, soon-husband, didn’t know about you and Leon. he believes you two are coworkers and nothing more. acquaintances or even strangers. he didn’t know the deep love you held for that man.

he was excited to see that you were inviting the other agents. he felt special. as if him being married to a D.S.O agent would make him a better tech or get him a promotion.

it was so hard sending him that invitation. most of the other invitations were given in person unless the guests lived far away. you wondered if he would come, part of you hoped he did and the other part of you hoped he didn’t.

“it’s almost time,” you looked to your side to see your uncle standing in the doorway. you chose him to walk you down the aisle, he’s been here for you more than your father. he was there for your daddy-daughter dances, for your graduation. elementary, middle school, and high school.

you stood up from your chair, smoothing out your dress. your dress was itchy and heavy, the pins in your hair stabbed your scalp with every movement, your makeup felt heavy and cakey, and your heels hurt. everything felt wrong.

“are you ready?” you looked at your uncle, a smile on his face as he looked at you. that was when tears welled in your eyes and you shook your head, suddenly you were a little girl again, crying to him when you didn’t get a toy you wanted.

your uncle’s face contorted with worry as he rushed to your side.

“hey, what’s wrong?”

you sobbed, throwing your head down so your tears wouldn’t ruin your makeup. you grabbed the back of your chair, trying to find your words and your breath but it was hard with the corset constricting your every movement.

“i can’t do it, i can’t go out there-“

“of course you can,” he reached over for a few napkins as his hand rubbed up and down your back, “i know it’s stressing, this is your big day, and your life is going to change after this.”

you shook your head again, pursing your lips together to keep another sob from leaving your lips.

“but this is the day you’ve been waiting for, you’ve stressed yourself out enough. after this, you get to enjoy your honeymoon and your house.”

you looked up at him, blinking away another tear. he smiled at you, taking the napkin to blot away the tears. you couldn’t help but think, only if he knew.

only if he knew where your heart truly lies. who your soul calls to. what you did, more specifically who you did. you couldn’t tell him. it was too late to tell anyone. what were you supposed to say? i slept with another man. quite frankly, the only man i’ve ever loved.

you’d be burned at the stake, by everyone in the church. especially, your mother-in-law.

so you sucked in a deep breath and stood up straight.

“okay,” you croaked, and you held the napkin to your tears. you hoped he wasn’t here, you really did. you knew if you made eye contact with him somewhere in the crowd, you would break.

so you linked arms with your uncle, standing up straight and putting a smile on your face. your uncle smiled back at you, giving your arm a small squeeze. your feet were already beginning to hurt and the minute the piano started your limbs began to shake.

your nerves were on edge, your palms were sweaty and you could barely control your breathing. you walked out of the small room you used to get ready and into the main hall. there were photographers, gasping at the sight of you.

gorgeous dress that made you look like a princess, the fabric along with your veil trailed behind you, leaving a path of your essence. instantly, camera shutters were beginning to go off. you gave the photographers a nervous smile and wave as you stood in front of the two large doors.

you looked up at the roof, naked baby angels danced above you, they were holding harps and chasing each other with smiles on their faces. clouds surrounded them along with doves. hints of gold were seen in the paint.

it was beautiful. architectural and just pure with grace. even if the paint was fading and cracking, it was the most beautiful thing you've seen today.

your uncle knocked at the doors, signaling whoever was inside that you were ready. when the doors opened you were met with gasps and the sound of people rising from their seats. you made eye contact with a few people both from your family and his.

you watched as a few covered their mouths in shock, their facial expressions softening in awe. you smiled at a few, keeping your head forward most of the time. your fiancee stood at the end with a wide smile on his face. his friends were giving him firm pats on the shoulder, demonstrating their support.

you smiled at him, pursing your lips as you let your eyes wander. to your left, in the second row, seated in the very first seat…there he was. he came. your face dropped upon seeing him, your knees suddenly felt weak, and a large pain erupted in your chest.

he stood with his hands folded in front of him. his lips were agape, his jaw hanging loose. his eyebrows were upturned in awe. your steps slowed a bit as you got closer to him. you wanted to see him one last time before it was too late.

in his mind, he was standing there at that altar instead of that bearded man. he was watching you walk down the aisle and you were smiling at him. you looked beautiful. god, that color always suited you. your makeup and hair were done beautifully, he’s never seen you this way — all dolled up.

it put his heart to a complete stop. he couldn’t focus on anything but you. your eyes were stuck on him as you passed by. he watched your smile fade as you both made eye contact and he felt a stab in his chest. for a second, he couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t blink. he was just frozen in time.

as you walked past him, your head fell to look at the ground. Leon too looked away, continuing to bite on the inside of his cheeks, this time he could taste blood. he shouldn’t be here. he shouldn’t watch this happen. he couldn’t. he couldn’t.

but he wanted to, today was special to you but it was the complete opposite to him.

he watched as you stood before your husband, a smile rising to your mouth as you gave him a small ‘hi’. Leon let his head drop to his lap, his leg was bouncing uncontrollably. he couldn’t do it. he couldn’t be here.

he was about to look up at Chris to tell him he had to go but he was interrupted when Chris put his hand on Leon's knee. when he looked at Chris, he was looking ahead. a toothpick between his lips and his eyes stuck ahead on you and your future husband.

he knew Chris was trying to convey something, probably 'calm the fuck down,' but also some type of support.

Chris knew today was hard for Leon. with each passing day that the wedding got closer, Leon has been sulking and slacking off during training. his flask was his best friend and so was his bed.

Chris was the only one who knew how deep Leon’s love ran for you. Chris was there during the nights Leon would stumble around drunk and depressed. he gave Leon a hand when he was at his lowest. he helped Leon get rid of his addiction. he got Leon a therapist.

he did a lot for Leon when you two split, same for you. Chris was like the older brother you never had, he was supportive and kind. he was always understanding. you were able to confide in him comfortably. you could sob on his shoulder and use him as a punching bag instead of Leon.

Chris saw both of you at your lowest points and he brought both of you back.

he did so much to bring you two back together but here he is; watching one get married while the other watches with tears in his eyes. Leon kept his head down, unable to face you and watch the scenery before him. the priest prompted you two to begin your vows and he was first.

there was a nervous smile on his face as he pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. he unfolded the paper, his eyes flickering between you and the speech before him. he cleared his throat, facing the crowd.

“first and foremost, i want to thank everyone for being here; friends and family.” he cleared his throat once again, looking towards you. it made Leon’s stomach twist with jealousy as you smiled at him so lovingly. he also couldn’t stop admiring how beautiful you were. pure innocence and grace, well he knew you were far from innocent.

“and most of all my gorgeous wife-to-be,” your smile dropped into a simple lift of your lips. but slowly, you began to look around the crowd. your eyes landing on your family, your in-laws, and then Leon. from there, you stayed fixated on him.

you haven’t seen him so polished in so long. his suit was nicely tailored, sleek back with a white brooch. though his tie was crooked and he was chewing on the inside of his cheeks. his frantic leg bouncing stopped once he made eye contact with you. his body froze in a way, his breath caught in his throat.

he smiled at you, gently. the look in his eyes spoke for him, ‘you look beautiful,’ he said.

he tried to keep calm, for you. even though he was on the verge of a heart attack. even if he was terribly heart broken, he needed to be happy for you. today is your day.

you smiled back at him even wider, shying away from him with visible heat in your cheeks, ‘thank you,’ you said back, smoothing out the skirt of your dress. your fiancee’s speech fell on deaf ears, you were paying attention to everything else but him at the moment.

Leon sat right in your field of view. at the other side of the aisle, in the second row, towards the very end of the bench.

you sucked in a deep breath, your lips falling agape as you kept eye contact with him longer. suddenly, the feelings you wished to bury. the ones you’ve been trying to bury for years were coming back. it was like slowly drowning. you can see the surface still but as you sink deeper and deeper, it becomes blurry and you are forever trapped in the ocean beneath you.

his kisses, his touch, his love, his passion, his laugh, his smile, his hair, his teeth, his nose, the hair on his arms and legs, the scar on his shoulder, the mole on his neck — it was all coming back. he was coming back.

the happiness you felt when he would wake you up with gentle kisses to your neck and shoulder. the joy you felt walking into the kitchen to see him there making coffee, he hated coffee. he hated the feeling it left on your tongue. the bitter taste and the smell of your breath after taking a sip. he hated coffee but he still made it.

it made him feel like a normal person living in an apartment with his normal girlfriend.

the comfort you’d get when he’d hug you. the excitement you felt when he’d come home. the small things he did that aroused you to the point of insanity. the arguments…you even missed the petty arguments. arguments never lasted long. Leon hated arguing with you.

it would usually end up with him sleeping on the couch that night. then he’d wake up with a heavy weight on top of him. of course, it was you. or it would end up with him throwing you over his shoulder and locking you both in your shared bedroom together.

even if you two argued, you refused to be away from each other.

you were woken from your daydream by the wave of chuckles around the room. you joined in subconsciously, blinking your dry eyes and averting your attention away from Leon. meanwhile, he was gripping the pants of his suit with butterflies in his stomach. he couldn’t shake off this feeling.

the feeling of loss. the feeling that maybe it was too late.

your fiancee had finished his vows, folding up the paper and storing it back in his pocket. you looked up at you, a blush on his cheeks and sweat brimming at his forehead. you could see he was nervous, he was shaking — constantly rocking back and forth and itching at his beard.

you reached into your bra, pulling out your vows. you were so unprepared. you wrote your vows probably a few nights ago, drunk one too many drinks and elbow-deep in a bag of your favorite chips.

the minute you unfolded the paper, you knew you should’ve read it over.

‘To my beloved, Leon…’

you swallowed a lump in your throat, nervously looking between the paper, your fiancee, and Leon sitting in the crowd. you were drunk and wrote vows to the wrong man. no, it was to the right man. Leon was the right man. he always has been.

“um, to my beloved, future husband,” you began, your voice trembling and your throat aching. you read over the first line and you instantly felt tears swell up in your eyes, “i miss you, um,” your eyes flashed over to Leon.

“i miss you even if you’re right next to me. no words can summarize how much i love you, how much i burn and yearn for you every passing minute … every passing day.”

Leon felt his heart break into a million pieces right then and there. your eyes remained on him, only looking away to glance back down at your vows. were you … reading these to him? Leon swallowed a lump in his throat, his eyebrows upturning as he tried to hold himself together.

you were making up things as you went, your words completely different from what was really written down:

“i am glad to have you by my side,” i wish you were by my side, holding me and singing your cheesy songs in my ear.

“i am blessed to wake up to you every morning and suck in a deep breath of your essence and your being,” i miss waking up to you every morning, staying in bed for a few more hours just so i can watch you breathe and stir in your sleep.

“i was broken when you found me but you pieced me back together, slowly and patiently,” you broke me. we broke each other but every single piece of me will crawl back to you in the end. no matter how shattered i am.

a tear slipped down your cheek, you were beginning to choke up the more and more you read. it was getting hard to make things up and say those instead of reading what you wrote down. a full page confessing your every feeling and thought to the right man … to Leon.

tears continued to fall.

‘i miss you. god, i miss you. i should’ve never left. i should’ve stayed. it was my fault. i broke us, i hurt us. i died when i left you but you brought me back to life when i saw you standing on that cliff.

when i saw you, the emotions running through me i couldn’t comprehend. i wanted to run, i wanted to turn away because i knew if i approached you it would be bad. but my body made its way towards you anyway.

i love you. i always have and i always will. i wish i could hold you again. i wish i could go back. they say to never open the closed doors of your past. fuck not opening closed doors, your door never closed.

when i turn back i can see you, standing there in the doorway watching me leave. just like the night i left. it hurts looking back, it hurts because i want to run back to you so bad.’

‘do you still love me?’

his words rang in your head like an alarm. you were looking down at your paper, vision blurry with tears. you could feel the weight of your tears falling onto the sheet as you sat there in silence. a small sob left your lips as audible whispers rang throughout the room.

you folded the paper in half, shaking your head as you looked up at your fiancee.

“i’m sorry,” was all you said as you took a step back. your body moved before you could process anything. you ran down the steps, lifting the skirt of your dress with one hand while the other held your love letter with a vice grip.

you ran down the aisle, towards the large doors. your throat was on fire and as you burst through the wooden doors, you finally let out a singular sob.

everyone in the church stood and watched you run out, looking between you and your fiancee abandoned at the altar. the whispers became louder, and gasped erupted through the room. your fiancee stood at the altar looking at his feet, completely still.

his mother ran up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder as she threw a million questions towards him. he stayed silent, eyes fixed on the ground below him. he couldn't believe it and neither could anyone else.

Leon looked back from you running out the door towards Chris standing behind him. his face was painted with worry, his eyes wide and eyebrows scrunched together. Chris nodding his head towards the door, signaling Leon to go after you.

“go, she needs you,” Claire said from behind Chris. Leon nodded silently, a heavy breath leaving his lips as he ran after you.

he was second to burst through those doors after you. he looked right and left, panicking. what happened? what was wrong? he knew he shouldn’t have come. this was his fault. if he didn’t come, you would be running out of this church with your husband on your arm. not like this.

those vows. they weren’t for your husband. he knew that for sure. your eyes were stuck on his, he watched with agony as tears slipped past your pretty eyes and down your cheeks. god, he hated seeing you cry more than anything. he just wished he could scoop you up in his arms and coax them out of you gently.

a sign against the wall that read ‘garden’ caught his attention. the sign pointed to the left and Leon was quick to take after you.

he knew you well. he knew you loved gardens and flowers, always plucking them from the ground or from their bush and sticking them into Leon’s hair. you once mentioned to him how when you’re troubled you tend to turn to nature or your bed. you’d take walks, sit outside in the sun in silence. you’d brush your fingers against the soft petals and leaves.

your bed was nowhere in sight so he ran in the direction of the garden.

he made way down the steps into the garden, loosening the tie around his neck. he shut his mouth, listening to your voice over his beating heart and his heaving breaths. he could faintly hear sobs coming from his right. his head snapped in the direction of your cries, his heart breaking as he spotted your heels on the ground.

they most likely slipped off as you ran away. he sucked in one last deep breath, trudging through the grass of the church garden to pick up your heels. the garden was beautiful, tall bushes acting as walls to a makehsift maze.

white roses were planted everywhere. the grass was healthy and warm, tickling at his ankles. bees buzzed around the bushes, hopping from flower to flower. birds chirped in the trees, singing melancholic tunes on this beautiful afternoon. or pretty drastic afternoon.

as he walked further into the maze, he caught eye of you. your back was turned to him, you had sat down on a bench in the middle of the maze and in front of a marble statue. he stopped in his tracks, gulping down the lump in his throat which somehow made his presence clear to you.

you turned around surprised, eyes wide and a small gasp leaving your lips.

when you caught eye of him standing there, holding your heels with one hand and the other tucked in his pocket. you felt tears welling up again, though you hid it away with a dry laugh.

“how cliche huh? runaway bride.”

he didn’t answer, making his way closer and closer to you. he rounded around the bench, getting down on one knee in front of you. he took your right ankle into his hands, rubbing at your soft skin.

Leon tried to ignore the damp paper in your hands — your vows. he was curious, what did they really say?

he slipped on your heel, continuing to draw circles onto your skin.

you watched him, inhaling deep, trembling breaths and gripping the edge of the bench with all your might. the tension was thick, so thick to the point neither of you could breathe.

“say something,” you sighed out.

“i don’t know what to say,” he croaked out, his voice stuffy and hoarse. he took a hold of your other ankle, slipping on the last heel.

“say that i don’t know, i’m stupid. i’m an idiot. i embarassed myself, i-“ you cut yourself off with a heavy sigh, dropping your head into your lap. there was a moment of silence, leaving you two stuck in an oasis of tweeting birds, rustling trees, and buzzing bees.

“look at me-“

“no,”

“please, baby look at me,” he practically begged. butterflies arose in your stomach and you shut your eyes, hoping you could shut him out. hoping the noise in your head would stop, just hoping everything will quiet. “i need you to look at me.”

that was all it took. you slowly looked up from your lap and at him. once you met his gaze, you felt like you were that young girl again. that young girl walking down the street after a dinner date, eating froyo in freezing weather and talking about your dream house.

“you’re not an idiot, you’re not stupid, you’re perfect. you’re so perfect,” he sighed out. “why’d you run?”

you shook your head, “i couldn’t do it, Leon, i-“ you stopped yourself to suck in a deep breath, but it felt so constricted. your head was pounding, everything felt heavy and you were so dizzy. every thing was falling down. you felt like you couldn’t breathe or think, your head was spinning and your knuckles white.

you gripped at your chest, nervously playing with the pendant of your necklace but at the same time trying to tug it off. you felt like you were choking, your vision began to cloud with tears but at the same time you felt like you were losing consciousness.

“hey, hey,” he came to sit next to you, instantly wrapping his heavy arms around your shoulders to bring you into his chest but still giving you room to breathe.

his fingers began to loosen the ribbons to your corset. his movements were stable and calm. “breathe with me ‘kay?" he soothed, "in and out, just how we always did,”

you nodded, gripping onto his suit, “in”

you shut your eyes and took a deep breath in. “good, what’s one thing you can taste?”

“um my lipstick,” you said, as you both exhaled.

“in,” he rubbed your back with one hand while the other held you firmly against him, “what are two things you can smell?”

his voice was getting deeper and quieter. slowly, your body began to relax. you could breathe again. you focused on your surroundings, naming off the first things you could. “the grass and…” you paused to let a deep breath out, “you.”

he wasn’t going to lie, your reply made his heart jump a little bit. he tightened his hold onto you, burying his nose into your hair. “in.”

as he took a deep breath in, he was bombarded with the smell of your shampoo and hairspray, “what are three things you can hear?”

“birds, wind and your heart beat,” you whispered to him as you let out another deep breath.

“in,” another deep breath in, “almost there, what are four things you can touch?” he could feel your body loosen up as you began to feel around him. your eyes were shut and your body began to go slack against him.

“your suit, the bench, and a button,” another deep breath out.

“good, almost there, in.” you were prepared for this one, pulling back from the hug just a bit so you could look around your surroundings. “what are five things you can see?”

you looked up at him, your breath hitching in your throat and your knees going weak. even if you were sitting down, you felt like jelly — as if you would melt right through this bench. you opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out but a weak croak.

he whispered out your name, concerned. his eyebrows curling upwards and his eyes searching yours. the longer you stayed like this, looking into his eyes and breathing with him, the quieter it got. there was no more pounding and noise in your head. your dress didn’t feel itchy. the pins in your hair no longer stabbed at your scalp. the soles of your feet didn’t hurt.

it was all so peaceful. everything.

“i do,” you managed to croak out.

“what?”

“to answer your question,”

‘do you still love me?’

“i do, Leon, i do. more than you’ll ever know,”

you couldn’t read the look on his face, all you saw was a flurry of emotions. he searched your face for any hesitation or lie, anything to keep him from taking you away from here for good. something to stop him from being selfish and keeping you all to himself.

“i love you, Leon Scott Kennedy.”

~

To my beloved, Leon,

i wish you were by my side, holding me and singing your cheesy songs in my ear.

i miss waking up to you every morning, staying in bed for a few more hours just so i can watch you breathe and stir in your sleep.

you broke me. we broke each other but every single piece of me will crawl back to you in the end. no matter how shattered i am.

i miss you. god, i miss you. i should’ve never left. i should’ve stayed. it was my fault. i broke us, i hurt us. i died when i left you but you brought me back to life when i saw you standing on that cliff.

when i saw you, the emotions running through me i couldn’t comprehend. i wanted to run, i wanted to turn away because i knew if i approached you it would be bad. but my body made its way towards you anyway.

i love you. i always have and i always will. i wish i could hold you again. i wish i could go back. they say to never open the closed doors of your past. fuck not opening closed doors, your door never closed.

when i turn back i can see you, standing there in the doorway watching me leave. just like the night i left. it hurts looking back, it hurts because i want to run back to you so bad.

you’re my everything and you’ll continue to be for the rest of my life. i cannot breathe without you, i cannot think, i cannot function. my head is foggy. but when i see you it all becomes so clear. when i go to sleep at night and the thought of you crosses my mind i can’t help but smile.

i wish i still had that picture of you by my bed because it’s never enough to see you smiling in my head as i lay in the dark. the sheets are cold, this house is cold, my heart is cold. i need you Leon.

it’s too late to go back now. i can’t keep doing this to you. i’m sorry. i love you.

~

a heavy hand was draped over your waist, strong firm muscle pooling you into a brick wall of a chest. you smiled, placing your hand over the one on your stomach. light kisses were pressed to your neck and down to your shoulder. rough stubble tickling your smooth skin only prompting you to smile wider.

“good morning,” a hoarse voice spoke in your ear. you looked up at the clock on your nightstand, it read 12:16. you grumbled, turning over and burying your face into chest and muscle, draping your arms around his frame and intertwining your legs with his.

“it’s so early,” you whined, hiding away from the sun peeking through your balcony doors.

“baby, it’s noon.” more kisses were pressed to your face, slowly waking you up with each one. gentle and wet kisses, you smiled at the feeling, nuzzling your nose between his pectorals with a low groan.

“it’s time to get up,”

the sound of you faking a snore earned you a small chuckle, the chest you lay on bouncing up and down — shaking you awake a bit more. the hand on your back traveled further south, rubbing over the bare skin of your ass.

“i tire you out last night, huh?” he taunted, kissing over the love bites forming on your neck and shoulders. you nodded shamelessly, every single one of your limbs was sore and you could barely move an inch without wincing in pain.

“that’s unfair, you folded me like origami and you expect me not to be tired, let me sleep,”

“i'm sorry baby, but i’m not done,”

a smirk grew on your lips and all of a sudden the pain in your body was gone. you were flipped over onto your back, making you squeal out in surprise. you were met with a pair of blue eyes and a messy head of brown hair.

warm lips met yours in a heated frenzy of a kiss — full of flame and passion. you tangled your fingers into the head of messy brown hair, moaning deeply into the kiss. you lifted your legs and brought them up and around his waist.

you could feel his hard cock press against your inner thigh, a small groan left his lips at the contact and a needy moan left yours. his hand reached between your nude bodies, two fingers slotting in between your folds and a slow and languid pace.

the tips of his fingers found your clit, rubbing small and slow circles around the sore nub. your walls fluttered around nothing, craving his cock that throbbed against your thigh.

you failed to kiss him back as a small whine left your lips.

“so wet already,” he kissed your chin, “were you dreaming about me, baby?”

you couldn’t help but give him a large smile, “maybe,”

you watched a smile grow on his lips as he placed another deep kiss to yours. his fingers left your aching cunt, leaving you pleading for more. his hand glided up your thigh, making sure your legs were securely wrapped around him.

he pulled away from the kiss, kissing your nose and then the corner of your mouth.

“i love you,” he breathed out.

“i love you too…ah,” your voice faded away into a moan as he slowly thrust into you. a weak moan left your lips and your nails dug into the skin of his back. you were never used to the sheer size of him, even if he was given to you just a few hours ago here you are, gasping for air as you clench around him.

“so beautiful, taking me so good,” he praised with a small groan. his tip nudged against your cervix, practically knocking the air left in your lungs straight out. he kept a hand on your leg, keeping you as close to him as possible.

with each deep thrust, he watched your every facial expression, watching as your mouth dropped open into a moan and as your eyes rolled into the back of your skull. he watched your lips try and form words, the only words you could moan out was his name:

“Leon,” you whined, dragging your nails down his back. he winced at the pain but he reveled in it, the way you’d claw at his back as he’d pound into you was better than any pain ever conflicted upon him. or when your teeth would sink into his shoulder, muffling your whines and moans.

the image only saturated his need.

you could feel his cock twitch inside of you and his hips began to roll against yours. still plagued by sleep, you buried your head into his shoulder, whimpering with each thrust. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, locking your ankles around his waist to bring him closer.

you loved feeling his weight on top of you, keeping you pressed firmly into the mattress, that way you had nowhere to run. not like you’d ever want to, the pleasure he gives you when he’s on top of you like this is inexplicable.

his arms underneath you, pulling you to his chest as he brought you up with him. both of your jaws dropped open, this new position allowing the tip of his cock to press further into you. you cupped his cheek, breathing in his heavy gasps as you slowly began to roll your hips down into him.

your breasts were pushed up against his, sweaty bodies sticking together and the smell of sex filled the room. soft and gentle moans slipped past your lips, your hands grabbing at anything in reach; his shoulders, his face, his arms, just him.

“you’re so beautiful,” he groaned, gripping the back of your neck and forcing you to look down at him. your lips met him in a frenzy, your cunt squelching the base of his cock as you rocked your hips against his faster — desperately chasing that high.

your stomach was burning with need, and every part of your body from your toes to your neck was on fire. you’ve never burned for someone like you do for him. his hips jolted up to meet yours and you gasped into his mouth which allowed him to slide his tongue against yours.

he was meeting you halfway with his thrusts, a gasp of pleasure leaving your mouth with every single one.

“fuck, it’s too much,” you whined as his lips traveled down your neck, biting down on your shoulder and your collarbones — he wanted to leave a mark.

“you can take it,” he heaved, “can’t you, baby?” he urged, as his teeth scraped against the plump of your breast. a shiver rolled up your spine at both the pain and pleasure, either way you nodded ecstatically.

“yes! i can take it,”

he smirked wider, his hips thrusting up faster. he watched as your tits bounced against his chest, your head rolling back which let your frizzy hair fall over your shoulders. his eyes were glued to the love bites decorating your body. the bruises and the redness growing on his skin.

the image of your body was now forever painted in his mind. your thighs wrapped around him as your hips ground down into his thrusts. your puffy cunt taking him so well, his cock sheathing inside of you and out again. your juices soaking the tuft of hair surrounding the base of his cock. your breasts bouncing and your ribs poking out.

“oh Leon, i’m so close-“ you whined, wrapping your arms around him. one of your hands running up the back of his neck and into his brown hair, the other wrapped around his shoulders with nails digging into his skin.

“let go for me, baby.” he egged you on, teetering close to his high as well. he screwed his eyes shut, digging his fingers into the fat of your ass, helping you meet his thrusts.

you buried yourself into the crook of his neck, muffling your loud moans into his skin. the sound of wet slapping skin only got louder, along with the sound of needy moans and the headboard banging against the wall.

the fog in your mind only got heavier and stars danced in your vision. your legs clamped around his waist as you came undone around his cock. stars danced behind your vision as you called out his name in a chant.

he wasn’t too far behind, biting down on your shoulder as he shot his seed deep inside of you. hot and thick, coating your gummy walls and painting you as his.

he continued pulling your hips down into his, slowly and carefully to help you ride out both of your highs. you slumped against him, completely worn out. all the soreness came back in a flash and your eyes felt heavy. but you smiled, draping your arms around his shoulders and allowing his softening cock to stay inside of you.

you turned your right, met with the bright light of the sun and the most beautiful view ever. the sun high in the sky shining down on a field of green grass. birds flew around in the distance, gliding in the wind and twirling in the air. you watched as they flew up and up until they were out of sight.

you pulled back from leaning on his shoulder, cupping his cheek and guiding him to look at you. his eyes peeled open slowly, his pupils contracting against the bright light he was exposed to before dilating again as he caught sight of you hovering above him.

he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, smiling up at you.

“hi,”

you chuckled, “hi,”

he placed a deep kiss on your lips, sealing in the steamy morning you both shared. as he pulled away, he let his eyes stay shut for a moment, he wanted to mesmerize the feeling of your lips alone. he wanted to remember the feeling of your sticky body pressed to his. he wanted to remember the sound of your voice. he wanted to remember this moment. that way if he died tomorrow, he would be able to lay back and remember you.

“my body hurts,” you groaned, leaning back and taking him with you. as you both hit the mattress with a loud ‘puff’, he couldn’t help but smile.

“let me guess, you’re going to spend the whole time in bed,” he chuckled.

“what? i can’t enjoy my honeymoon? and my new house,” you smiled widely up at him. he cupped your cheek, smiling happily as he brushed your cheek. your smile faded as you nuzzled yourself into his palm, with a small sigh.

“you know, the moment i got home after that date with the froyo,” he began, licking over his dry lips. “i went home and began mapping out how your dream house would look,”

"really?" you smiled as you turned towards him, bunching the duvet up to your chin. he nodded and you gave him a small playful scoff, "and here i thought it was just a question,"

"well, it wasn't,"

your heart ached at the image of a young and blonde Leon sitting at his crowded desk, sketching out a house with the tip of his tongue sticking out the corner of his lip. you smiled at his confession, letting him plop down beside you as his arm wrapped around your waist to bring you against him.

“i was determined to make it happen,” he chuckled to himself, “i bought the property, hired construction workers, and interior designers. now that i think about it, i was so mean to them.”

you laughed at that, his story playing out in your head like a movie. you wondered how long it took and how much it all cost. though, he refused to tell you. he refused to tell you anything about the making of this house. you didn’t know about it until just a few weeks ago.

when he carried you out of the car bridal style with a blindfold around your eyes. he placed you onto the ground for a moment and you could hear the jingling of keys and the squeak of a door. when you stepped into the house it smelt stale, like wood and dust.

but when he took that blindfold off you were faced with something much better. you were face to face with your future — your dream. he mapped it out perfectly, just to your desires and nothing could ever be better. it was better than your dreams. so much better.

“the day of your uh other wedding,” he paused stifling a small nervous laugh as you giggled, “i was about to sell it. i was about to throw your dream away,” you frowned, both feeling guilty and saddened at the thought. he reached down under the covers, finding your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours.

“our dream…i was going to throw our dream away,” he laid his head down against the pillow, looking down at your hands as he ran his thumb over your delicate knuckles. “it wasn’t your fault, i just couldn’t stomach the thought of living or owning a house that was meant for you,”

“oh Leon,” you sighed.

“you didn��t know about the house, i never got to tell you and well it was too late to.”

you brought your joined hands to your lips, placing a kiss on his knuckles as you scooched closer to him. you didn’t go back to him because of the house, even if you did know about the house, you knew that you would have gone back to him for the sole purpose of being with him.

you could still be in that dainty old apartment and you’d be happy. you could be living in a studio apartment with him and you’d be happy. you could be living in a cardboard box with him and you’d be happy. as long as you were with him. home was where he was. Leon was home.

“the realtor convinced me not to, he told me a story similar to ours,” his other hand reached up, cupping your cheek and stroking the puffiness underneath your eyes.

“his story didn’t have a happy ending like ours but he told me, ‘it is never too late to be what you wanted to be.’” Leon sighed heavily, looking deep into your eyes. you looked at him attentively, eyes wide and eyelashes fluttering up at him. he smiled at you, finding the look on your face adorable, like a kid listening to a bedtime story.

“and well i wanted to be with you,”

your heart swelled with love and your features softened. you gave him a look of pure adoration, and every waking moment and every waking day you found yourself falling more and more deeply in love with him. from the moment you woke, to the moment you slept and into the dreams you inhabit, you loved him dearly.

your heart called for him in your strongest and weakest moments. your soul was tied to him and your every thought revolved around him.

Leon. Leon. Leon. he was all you knew and all you wanted. he was your dream, your prince charming, your fairytale. he was your everything. he held you in the palm of his hands and he didn’t even know it. from the moment you met and to this very moment now, laying in bed with limbs entangled — stealing kisses and whispering sweet nothing, you were his.

you wanted it to be him.

you wanted him to be your partner in crime. you wanted him to be your husband, your partner in life and death, the father to your children, the man you introduced to your parents, the man to give you his last name, the person you woke up to in the morning and fell asleep next to in the night, the sole owner of your heart and soul.

and now he is that. he is your partner in life and death, your husband, to father of your future children, the man you woke up to and fell asleep next to. he is that man.

“i’m glad it was you.”

(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)

tags : @xoxoloveless @luvrgreyy @ynsvnte @satinwithsilk @child-chomper1 @porcelain-sea-shore @stefoooo @spfoah @chesue00 @daervannafia @puppyina @prettyntxhee @leonkennedygvrl @altissia-09 @leqonsluv3r @yuiopiklmn @folksriddle @squazmine @its0214-am @xqlenkdy @belovedcloud @beafart (loved ur lil note btw! it made me laugh) @admirxation @neverg0nnagivey0uup @fancyyme @marymustdie @bloodstainedbandaid @jeonmochi99-blog

notes: if you wanna be on my tag list pls message me or fill out the form below (just to make it easier on me :D)

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author notes: MY GOD! pt. 2 is done and this shit is LONG! literally i did not need to write this much but i hope you guys enjoyed this one and tysm for filling out the taglist i was so surprised to see so many people wanted to be tagged in my work i thank each and every one of you ToT!!

also, summer is officially here for me so expect me to be active much more :D! - V!

[mypoisonedvine]

𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 | raymond leon x reader

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 | since you've managed to outsmart (or, more accurately, seduce) your last four bodyguards, your wealthy father decides it's time to take a new approach: hire a timekeeper to watch you. after all, a man who dedicates his life to the law can withstand the wiles of a spoiled, lonely girl... right?

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 | 4.7k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 | dubcon smut (rough sex, daddy kink, choking, slapping, creampie, breeding kink, glove kink, degradation), age gap (raymond is ????, reader is early 20s), slight dd/lg undertones, reader is a bit dark and manipulative hehe

You were rolling your stockings up your legs, one of the final stages in dressing for the party tonight, when your bedroom door opened.  “Hey, Ray,” you greeted with a purr as he stepped inside.

“Officer Leon,” he corrected you.

“Right,” you smiled, tilting your head.  “I’m sorry, sir.  I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”

He scoffed, looking away, and you bit your lip— he was getting frustrated, in more than one sense of the word, and you were going to get what you wanted (like always). Boys are simply too easy.

This whole cat-and-mouse thing was starting to drive you a little crazy— none of the other bodyguards had taken this long to crack.  But really, the anticipation just added to the fun.

You stood up and turned your back to him, hoping he was eyeing the V-shaped portion of your back he could see with your gown still open.

“Will you help me zip up my dress?” you asked sweetly, making sure your hair was out of the way and looking back over your shoulder at him sweetly.  He sighed but stepped closer to you, but tugging on the zipper only lifted the bottom of your dress a bit— so he had to put his other hand on your hip to hold it in place as he pulled the zipper up, and you were thankful he couldn’t see your eyes flutter shut at the feeling.  His hands were so strong, you could feel it even through the gloves— and those fucking gloves, shiny black leather, he knew damn well what he was doing to you.  He just didn't seem to care.

"There," he said when he'd tugged it up to the top, stepping back, and you turned around to face him.  The dress was more elegant than you usually went for: you traded in your lace and bows in pastel shades for a dark purple silk that fell to the floor.

"What do you think?" you asked, biting your lip.  "Daddy picked it out for me."

"He has expensive taste," Raymond noticed, though he conspicuously didn't comment on your appearance.  He was very uptight, especially about professionalism.  You sort of got the feeling that if you could just pull one of his strings hard enough, he'd totally unravel: which is why you kept trying.

As he tried not to look at you, you gave him a slow look up and down.  "Is that what you're wearing tonight?" you asked incredulously, pointing to his high-neck black sweater and long leather trench.

"I'm working tonight, so yes," he answered.

Everyone thought Raymond stuck out like a sore thumb in your room— his angular, dark form against the soft baby pinks and white laces around your bed, a hardened cop amongst the porcelain baby dolls and fluffy stuffed animals and gold-edged tea sets: but you thought he fit right in, standing there amongst all your playthings.

~

The party was a bit dull— you were having more fun toying with your bodyguard than anything else.  “Try this,” you’d insist as you held up an hors d'oeuvre to feed him; he had to give in, he had to do whatever you said in front of all these people, but he glared at you as he leaned forward and took a bite out of the mini-tart.

You bragged to your father’s guests about your new bodyguard— or toy, as you called him more often.  “Daddy bought him for me,” you’d say, “and he has to do whatever I want.  Show them your gun, Mr. Leon!”

He only looked at you sternly again, and you rolled your eyes.

“He’s sort of grouchy,” you explained to the amused dinner attendees.  He didn’t react much, still standing there with his gloved hands held in front of him, but you saw a little tightness in his jaw.

Best of all, you flirted with as many suitors as you could get away with in a night, just to bother him.  The tricky thing about a world without aging is men who’ve been around quite some time were still just as eligible for your hand as men closer to your age— you wondered if it would bother him more knowing that one of your father’s wealthy friends who had been alive at least 80 years was doting on you.  Didn’t matter either way: you let them all stand a bit too close, put their hand on your lower back— you laughed too hard at their shitty jokes.  All to make Ray jealous, but when you glanced over your shoulder at him, you could never catch a reaction.

After the guests had left and the staff had begun cleaning, you went back to your room to change.  You’d coyly asked Raymond if he would watch over you during that, too, but he didn’t answer because he knew you were joking.  It’s not like you were ever really serious… but you did want him.  Not just for fun, and not just to prove to your father that there was no use hiring these bodyguards— he was fucking sexy, obviously.  Definitely your favorite so far, and exactly your type… for how much he thought you were trying to tease and tempt him, he was the one driving you a little crazy.

Still, you kept your cool as best you could; you needed to keep control over him, and thankfully with him working for you, that was pretty easy to exert.  (Well, technically he worked for your father, but it was close enough.)

“Oh, Mister Officer,” you called out to him through the door as you sat on your bed, hearing him step closer.

“Yes?” he asked, voice slightly muffled.

“I just need your help with something,” you explained, but he still hesitated.

“Are you decent?”

Damn, he wasn’t that gullible anymore.  “Enough,” you replied, and he sighed before opening your bedroom door.

You were in your bra and panties now— but with your heels and stockings still on, of course; he lost track of his step for a second when he saw you, then frowned at you.  “That’s not what I would consider decent,” he said.

“Well, I need your help and I wasn’t going to put on a turtleneck just for that,” you replied.  “You’ve seen me in my bikini by the pool, anyways…”

And you’d made him apply sunscreen on your back as well; you smirked to yourself at the memory.  “What do you need my help with?” he reminded you of the original topic.

“Well, these shoes are too small for me now,” you said, “I didn’t realize how much I’d grown since I wore them last…”

You hoped he’d find that a little intriguing, as someone who himself hadn’t grown in… you didn’t even know how long.  He obviously never talked about it— for all you knew he could have been alive a hundred years, though he certainly didn’t act like it.  

You lifted a stiletto-clad foot forward towards him.  “Now they’re stuck.  Will you help me take them off?”

He sighed that trademark, frustrated sigh of his, and you fought off a smile.  “You can’t do that yourself?” 

You shook your head.  “I’m not strong enough,” you explained with a shrug.

Clearly not buying it but in no position to accuse you of lying, he knelt down in front of you.  Taking the shoe in his hand, he looked at you with annoyance in his eyes as it slipped off easily.  

“You’re so strong,” you cooed, wiggling your toes inside the pantyhose, then putting your foot down to hold out the other in front of him.  “Now the other one,” you demanded.

He took the shoe off of you, tossing it aside, and you let your foot brush against his thigh as you lowered it down— just long enough to make it not quite believable as an accident.

“Now my stockings,” you continued, and he got up and started to walk away.

“You’ll have to do the rest on your own,” he insisted.

“But who’s gonna help me undress?” you pouted, and he stopped walking halfway to the door, dropping his shoulders a bit.

“I don’t know, how about you ask one of those boys that was sniffing around you all night?” he suggested, and you smiled proudly.  Oh, you noticed that?  

“I can’t,” you sighed, “you know Daddy doesn’t let me have any boys in my room— except you.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “because I’m the one who keeps the boys out of your room.”

“It’s no fair,” you whined.  “It’s so boring up here by myself…”

“Please,” he groaned, finally turning around, “with all these things you have?  You shouldn’t have any trouble being entertained.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, “I shouldn’t— but I do.  There’s only one thing I really wanna do right now…”

You started to slowly and delicately run your fingers up your legs, spreading them a bit.

“But I don’t wanna have to do it alone…” you continued, blinking up at him as you saw his nostril twitch— could this finally be the moment you caught him?

In an instant, he stormed towards you and grabbed you by the neck.  “So fucking spoiled,” he growled, his black leather gloves crinkling softly as you whimpered and held his wrist.  “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?  You think your father didn’t tell me what happened to the last four bodyguards?”

“I— I didn’t fuck them all,” you defended, voice a little thin from the pressure on your throat, “the third quit on his own—”

“Because he knew what would happen if he gave in to you,” Raymond sneered.  “And so do I.  You think I’ll give up on a job like this that easily?”

That was one thing that made Ray different than the others before— they were all professional bodyguards, used to working for the elite class.  Most of them probably already had plenty of time, or could at least keep getting jobs of this caliber to earn a similar keep.  But Timekeepers weren’t especially well compensated, paid daily but only paid just enough to keep going until the next per diem.  He’d probably never had more than a couple days on his clock, and now he was earning a month a week just to babysit you.  That was why your father hired him for this, you finally realized: he’d said before that he simply hoped a lawman would have a little more integrity and not give in to temptation with you, but it was far more than just that.

Raymond let go of your neck and tossed you back onto the bed, but just when you hoped he’d climb on top of you and pin you down, he scoffed and turned away.  “You’re too young, anyways,” he said as he crossed his arms.

“Am not,” you denied.

“Your clock hasn’t even started yet,” he noticed.

“I’ve only got a few more years left,” you frowned, “but I’m still an adult.”

“Then fucking act like one,” he suggested sharply, and left the room with slam of your door.

You sighed, once again left frustrated with another unsuccessful attempt to get him into bed.  But, you smiled, too; because you knew this was a step in the right direction.

~

Your father tried not to travel much, since it was one of the few things that exposed him to the risk of death.  Wouldn't it be absurdly ironic, dying in a plane crash after living for hundreds of years and with nearly a millennium left on his clock?

Still, he didn't get all these years by sitting around in his house, he was a busy professional.  And his work sometimes required him to leave for as long as a few weeks.

He had you come and see him off at the hangar, Officer Leon not far behind as you kissed your father on the cheek and bid him safe travels.  

You loved when he left, it gave you a lot more freedom.  But Raymond didn't know that, he just knew you were a billionaire's youngest daughter left alone in a massive mansion, and you'd already had planned for weeks how you could use that to your advantage.

You knew he was outside your door, you could see the shadow of his boots through the crack between the wood and the plush rug.  Fighting off a little smile, you whimpered softly— but not too soft, he needed to hear it.  The first one didn't seem to work, so you dropped your head and did it again.

He swung open the door a second later, and though he seemed relieved to find you alone and not being kidnapped or something, he still had to ask: "Are you alright?"

You sniffled and wiped at your eye, acting like you were trying to hide your tears as if it all wasn’t a performance in the first place.  “Daddy’s gone away,” you pouted, “and left me all by myself… m’so lonely, Mr. Leon.”

“Officer,” he corrected, but his voice faltered when you looked up at him with big, needy eyes.

“I don’t wanna be all alone,” you whimpered, “I need somebody to take care of me… protect me…”

You rubbed your thighs together as you sat on the bed, toying with the lacy hem of your nightgown.

“Somebody big and strong,” you continued as he crossed his arms, “like you.”

His stare was icier than ever, yet those eyes still could’ve melted you if you let them.

“Will you be my new daddy while he’s gone?” you asked sweetly, biting your lip, and he tensed his jaw as he looked away.

“What do you get out of toying with me?” he asked sharply.

“Fucked, hopefully,” you smiled.  

“You know, I’ve known a lot of women,” he informed you; you had no idea where he was going with this, but you liked how it started.  “Rich, poor— prostitutes, politicians— young, or just young-looking.  But I don’t think I’ve ever met such a brainless, insatiable little whore as you.”

You stood up from the bed, stepping closer to him carefully.  “Really?” you smiled, taking it as a compliment, and that only angered him further.

“What is it that makes you think you can get whatever you want?” he wondered, his blue eyes like daggers as he glared at you. 

“Experience,” you shrugged, reaching up to trace a finger over his lapel, but he batted it away harshly.  “Ooh,” you breathed, “you’re a mean daddy, hm?  The type that believes in lots of discipline?”

He didn’t respond, even when you stepped so close that your body was nearly touching his.

“I can be a good girl,” you promised sweetly, “for you.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” he snapped.

“Let me prove it, daddy,” you purred, “just give me a chance…”

You leaned in, wondering if he’d let you kiss him— he hadn’t backed away, but he hadn’t relaxed out of his bodyguard posture, either.

“Just make me yours,” you pleaded under your breath, lips nearly brushing against his.

Before you even realized he’d given in, he slammed you back against the wall with a hand around your neck, the other instantly grabbing you between the legs, and you mewled joyfully.  “Fuck,” he snarled, like he was just as frustrated with himself as with you; his gloved hand roughly navigated up under your nightgown and into your panties.  

Two leather-covered fingers slid inside you, and you arched your back up off the wall.  

“Needy whore,” he grunted as he shoved his fingers deeper into you, making you whimper as your knees almost buckled.  “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Yes, daddy,” you moaned happily, though he slapped you across the face hard with his other hand right after you said it, and you yelped as you clutched your cheek.

“I’m not your fucking daddy,” he spat at you.  “Such a goddamn brat— if I was your daddy, you’d have some fucking manners.”

“Teach me,” you begged, “fuck, please— I need to learn.  Teach me right now.”

He let go of you, and pulled his fingers out of you, and stepped back slightly as he shed the gloves and his long coat.  “Get on your fucking knees,” he growled, watching you slide along the wall onto the floor.  

You didn’t need to be told what to do after that, you simply smiled as you reached up to rub the bulge in his pants.  Unbuckling his belt for him, you had to catch your breath when you realized how big he was.  

He smirked when you whimpered slightly while taking it out, stroking him as he got harder in your grip.  “More than you bargained for?” he wondered smugly.

“Nothing a brainless, insatiable little whore can’t handle,” you promised just before leaning forward and taking him into your mouth.  He gasped a little before humming in satisfaction, and you suckled as you swirled your tongue around his head, fitting what you could in your mouth and trying to coat the skin with your spit.

His hand suddenly held onto your hair when you started to bob your head, and he groaned when you choked slightly on the tip of him.  “Fuck,” he whispered, “yeah— like that, baby…”

You moaned around him, not just for show but a reaction to the satisfying weight of him on your tongue— and the slightly salty taste of leaking precum.  Your fingers brushed gently over his balls as you blinked up at him: you were pulling out all the stops, you wanted him to lose his mind over you even more than he already had.

He pushed your hair back, tilting your head further to meet your gaze.  You thought he might speak when he opened his mouth, but you gagged on him again and he just sighed.

Your hand wrapped around the rest of his length that you couldn't reach with your lips, stroking him in time with the way you bobbed your head; and your other hand couldn't help but reach down between your bent legs, pressing against your core— bare, as you'd already thought ahead and forgone panties— and making you hum at the smallest hint of friction.

You were just starting to set a rhythm with it, the bobbing of your head and the stroking of your hand and the way you swirled your tongue… but of course he had to throw you off and shove your head down, making you choke again unexpectedly, as he groaned at the feeling.  “S’what you wanted,” he reminded you, starting to roughly fuck your mouth.  “What you fucking wanted, right, little whore?”

You could only barely nod with him holding your head, and your clit throbbed just from the way he looked down at you with his teeth bared.

“Fuck, just need a cock to choke on,” he growled.  “Only way to shut you up, huh?”

He gave your throat a few more aggressive thrusts before pulling back, and you coughed and wiped your chin as you looked up at him.  “It’s not all I wanted,” you reminded him when you caught your breath, and he smiled at you in a condescending sort of way.

“Right,” he recalled, tilting his head, “you wanted to be fucked.  Poor thing.”

“Please, daddy?” you batted your eyelashes up at him, and he just laughed thinly.

“Nothing’s stopping you, princess,” he replied, holding his hands out, as if to suggest you come and take it.  You couldn’t resist an offer like that.

Standing up and grinning at him, you pushed him back by the shoulders and down onto the bed, straddling his lap.

He smirked up at you; “Really need it that bad, huh?” he mocked as you pulled your nightgown up over your head and tossed it aside quickly.

“Uh huh,” you agreed with a nod, “need you so bad— you’ll let me ride your big cock, right, daddy?  Please?”

But you were already lining him up to your entrance and sinking down, and you both groaned loudly as he filled you.  “God, it’s so wet,” he hissed, watching you gasp as you lowered yourself further.  “You get that wet just from sucking cock?  Fuckin’ slut.”

Your eyes rolled back as the tip of his cock pressed further than you thought possible.  “Fuck, daddy,” you moaned, “you’re so deep…”

“Yeah,” he panted in agreement, “can’t believe that little pussy’s taking all of me…”

You started to grind on him right away, holding onto his shoulders as you rocked your hips desperately.  “Oh my god, oh my god,” you chanted, “it’s s-so good, it feels so good—”

He bit his lip as he watched you, and you loved how it felt to have those steely eyes looking up and down your body as you moved.

You'd been sort of on edge the whole time, sucking him off and all— not to mention that the foreplay with you and Raymond had started, in your mind, months ago when he was first hired.  The satisfaction of finally having him exactly where you wanted him was nearly as good as the physical sensation… but it did feel incredible, the curve of his cock rubbing up against your spot with so much pressure that you shuddered all over.

His hands ran over your body, the strength of them more than apparent even when he was touching you somewhat delicately, and you moaned as his rough fingers punched your nipples.

You shifted from grinding down on him to properly bouncing up and down, arching your back to get the perfect angle as you both groaned.  "Fucking tight," he mumbled his praise.

You held on tighter to his shirt, really wishing you could see him without it, but there was something hot about him still being in his uniform… especially when you were totally naked.  It probably made him think he had more power over you, which was exactly what you wanted him to think.

Moving faster, you felt the pressure building inside you already, pulsing and swelling as you let your head drop forward to look down at him looking jus perfect underneath you.

He grabbed you by the neck, only to be unexpectedly sweet and pull you down into a kiss— but it was still a hungry, dominating kiss, one that made you whine and tense up inside as he tasted all over your tongue and mouth.  And he didn’t let go of your neck, either, in fact he tightened his grip just enough to make you choke out a raspy moan against his lips, which you felt smirk a moment later.  

“So good, daddy,” you mumbled into the last moments of the kiss.  His hands moved down to your body, following your movements, and you pulled back enough to look at his face closely.  “You’re so fucking good, daddy,” you praised again.

He groaned and held your waist tighter, making you hum and smile.  "Little slut," he scolded through his teeth as you moved faster.  “Show daddy how you make yourself come.”

You beamed as he really accepted the title for the first time.  Sitting up higher and bouncing faster, you moaned loudly as you chased your high: shocks of sensation hit inside you, faster and faster the longer you continued.

You grabbed his hands off your hips and pinned them down beside his head, riding him harder while he smirked up at you.  "So desperate," he cooed— but you could hear in his voice that he was close, too.

Whimpering at the feeling, you felt your walls bearing down on him as it nearly hit you— it was sort of difficult to come like this, since you could only move so fast, but the way it was drawn out just made you sure it would build up even stronger and hit you harder.

“Fuck, get off,” he warned, “gonna come.”

You grinned, biting your lip, and kept grinding your hips.

“Get up,” he demanded, but you just tightened your grip on his wrists.  “Fuck, are you—?”

“Shh, m’close,” you scolded, feeling him try to struggle under you— but he was flexing inside you, too, and you knew he couldn’t hold back forever.  He was obviously more than strong enough to fight you off if he really wanted, but it wasn’t about your body overpowering his— it was about you forcing him to give in to his instincts… to temptation.

“I swear to fucking god,” he groaned through his teeth, “if you don’t fucking get off me right now—”

“I’m coming, daddy!” you announced suddenly as you bounced on him even more fervently.  “Oh my god, daddy, m’coming on your big cock!  Yes!”

It felt great, don’t get me wrong, but you were definitely playing it up and giving him a real show as you tossed your head back, screamed out his name, dug your nails into his wrists— you wanted him to be totally helpless to you for just that moment.  “Fuck!” he groaned, and you laughed excitedly as his cock pulsed inside you, heat flooding between your legs and his head falling back onto the mattress with the most gorgeous fucked-out look on his face.  

“Oh fuck, come in me, daddy,” you demanded, rocking your hips and squeezing him tight for every drop, “wanna be so fucking full—”

He groaned through his teeth as it all started to die down a bit, scrunching his face up for a second before relaxing under you again; you felt his cock pump just a few more times, weaker than before, and you hummed proudly.

“God— oh my god—” he panted out, opening his eyes wide as he started to catch his breath, looking at you like you were crazy.  You just laughed and bit your lip as you finally stopped moving.  “What the fuck did you just do?” he snapped, but he still whimpered a bit when you deliberately clenched your walls around him.

“Sorry,” you shrugged, “I just really needed some come inside me— been really in the mood to get bred lately—”

You giggled as he grabbed you and threw you down onto the bed, turning you both over as he held your arms tight and pulled out— he blinked quickly, his lips slack and still a little stained from your pink gloss, as he watched his come leak out of your pussy.  “Fuck,” he snarled, clearly trying to use his anger and panic to hide how much it turned him on.  “Are you fucking kidding me?  Do you realize what fucking happens if you get—?”

“Pregnant?” you finished for him, licking your lips excitedly.  “Doesn’t it sound so hot though?  You knocking me up, getting me all nice and full with your baby, ‘cause I’m so young and fertile— and then you can be a real daddy—”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he spat, sitting back at little on the bed and running his hands over his face in dismay.  “You’re— oh god— I can’t believe this is happening—”

“Calm down, grumpypants,” you scolded with a smile as you sat up and looked at him closer.  “I’m on the pill, haven’t missed one in years.”

Ray’s terrified expression fell into relief and frustration simultaneously.  “Fucking— you could’ve told me that before,” he frowned, dropping his hands to his sides.

“But then I would’ve missed out on your little meltdown,” you laughed proudly.  “You looked cute like that, panicking and thinking you really got me pregnant.”

He watched you get up out of the bed and snag your silk robe from off of a hook on the wall, slipping it on as you walked to the bathroom.  You looked over your shoulder at him as you turned the door’s golden handle, smirking when you saw the dumbfounded look on his face.

“I think I could use a bath,” you explained, “care to join me, big boy?”

The look on his face was that sort of incredulous denial— like he couldn’t believe that you’d ask him that, expecting him to ever want to be near you again after pulling that stunt.  “Are you serious?!” he choked.

“Of course,” you laughed, “I’m not in a joking mood anymore.  Are you coming or not?”

He laughed in bewilderment and looked around for a moment, before sighing in relent.  “Yeah, I am,” he admitted, sliding off the bed to come join you.  You smirked to yourself; these boys are simply too easy.

[leon4nyx]

Where My Affections Lie

CrownPrince!RE4R!Leon x AFAB!Maid!Reader

word count - 2.6k

tags - MDNI, not proofread, slight angst, p in v, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), fingering (f!receiving), soft dom/sub undertones, creampie, missionary, begging, aftercare, generally vanilla sex

the crown prince, Leon, grapples with his princely duty to marry the princess of the neighboring kingdom in order to secure a political alliance with both lands, even if his heart belongs to another− you.

Leon enters your quarters, shutting the door and sliding the lock in place behind him. He looks crestfallen and defeated, his dejected face worrying you. He takes your work-hardened hands in his smooth ones, pressing kisses and nuzzling his face into the warmth of your palm as he looks up at you with tear-glossed eyes. He sets aside the linens you were folding, recently picked from the clothesline first thing in the afternoon. Unlike your princely lover who could indulge in personal interests and other idle hobbies, nearly all your days in serving his family are spent busying yourself with chores and domestic duties; up until he had come inside to seek comfort in your presence, you were occupied with folding newly dried sheets before sending it upwards to their personal housekeepers.

“What’s the matter?” you gently ask him, cupping his teary face nearer to yours.

“The king and queen,” his voice nearly cracks. “My parents, they will marry me off to the princess of the neighbouring kingdom in a month. I am due to meet her at the end of this week and shall be gone for two nights.”

The breath never makes it past your lips, lodging itself in your throat to form an uncomfortable lump that accompanies the sunken feeling in your chest and the tears that begin to blur your vision.

“It is purely for the interest of politics, for the economic well-being of our kingdom,” Leon continues though he sounds far from pleased. “Father has cut ties with the trade of our previous ally, much to my contempt. No matter what I say and how much I beg, nothing will change their minds. A ship is on its way to deliver the message now.”

The king’s speak is the law and you know that there is no denying his wishes unless you wish to lose your head. If Leon, the crown prince, couldn’t get him to retract his statement, what more can a lowly maid do? You set aside the ache of your own heart, putting Leon’s emotions first in this gutting moment in both your lives.

“Leon, it’s all going to be fine. I’m sure she is rich and beautiful,” you point out with a feigned smile.

“That is nothing if I cannot have you,” he responds. “I care not for material riches when you are far more wealthy in the love you spoil me with. She is not you so I could care less about her. She will never be you.”

“The kingdom needs you, Leon. We are all relying on you for our prosperity,” you quietly say. “It’s best you follow the king, this is for the good of your people.”

Leon shakes his head, his blond fringe swaying along with the motion. He dips his head, eyes downcast to his bare ring finger.

“I don’t wish to stop loving you, my dove.” He confesses in a voice so broken.

“But you’ll hurt her,” you retort. “She is your wife, my future queen, and I am but an ignoble servant. She will bear your children so you must love her, as fiercely or more than you have loved me.”

He shakes and cries into the crook of your neck, saline tears leaving dark circles on the fabric of your garments as his arms hold you close to himself.

“It’ll be fine, Leon. I forgive you and I always will,” you whisper as you pat the soft hair at the back of his head. “It must be done.”

You had more words to say but it dies down at the base of your throat, the lump growing more uncomfortable as tears of your own descend as you both share your griefs in the tragedy of your circumstances.

After a delicate silence spent tearfully, Leon pulls back and stares into your eyes with fervour as if he is committing every blemish and groove of your face to memory.

“Fuck it,” he whipsers beneath his breath.

Light and careful hands cup your cheeks as if your face is made of glass, drawing your face near until your lips connect. The kiss is gentle and careful at first, no more than the tender smacking of lips and stifled noises accompanied by low smacks but the passion and desperation grows tenfold; his hands find themselves groping and grabbing, warm tongues coming to meet in the middle to engage in a passionate tango amidst hot puffs of breaths. Leon breaks away and plants damp kisses on the side of your lips, trailing it down your neck and making its way into your collarbones. His fingers fumble around behind you, fervidly undoing the laces of your clothing.

“Take these off,” he damn near growls. “Rip it, just rip it.”

You reach behind you to try and undo it swiftly but your lover has gone impatient, the sound of fabric ripping reaching your ears as your back is exposed to the air as he shoves the remainder of the torn clothing down, exposing your breasts.

“Leon!” You yelp in surprise.

“Need you,” he breathes in between clumsy pecks to your lips. “Need you now.”

He backs you into your bed, gently setting you down before climbing on top of your pinning you down with his enveloping weight. His kisses are bold and sloppy, desperate for more of you as teeth clack and grunts increase in volume. Your hands untangle themselves from his locks, gliding down the ripples of his muscled back and down to his trousers as you try to shove it down. Taking your hint, he rises up for a moment and undoes the button before shucking it down along with his underwear. His cock springs out, slapping into his abdomen right underneath his navel; his tip is flushed and glossy, covered in a thin layer of his arousal. Veins deliciously adorn the shaft like vines, the sight before you making you all the more hot and bothered. You sit up as Leon lies down, back resting against the headboard as you bend to eye-level with his erection.

“Please,” he begs. “Just…– ah, fuck.”

You interrupt his begging in the most heavenly way possible with your lips wrapped around his tip, gently giving cautious sucks before you take more of him into your mouth and start bobbing your head up and down. Spit dribbles from the corner of your mouth and glides down his girth, making Leon painfully harder if it was even possible.

“F-Faster,” he chokes out as his hips twitch. “Faster… yeah, jus’ like that.”

You pull away for a moment to catch your breath, a thin string of spit connecting you to his cock. You wrap your warm hands around him and form a tunnel, gliding it up and down his length at a pleasurable pace while you look at him through lidded eyes.

“F-Fuck,” he whimpers as his back bows from time to time. “Ah, ple–please, please. F-Fuck, faster!”

Shlicks resonate through the room, growing in speed as you pick up the pace with your hands. His face tightens and his balls flex, signaling that he’s right over the edge when you pull your hand away for a moment before replacing it with the wetness of your mouth again.

“Faster, faster–ngh–faster!” He chants in a whiny tone as his hands cup the back of your head as he urges you on. “Mine, y-you’re… hngh… mine! A-And I’m yours– all yours, p-please!”

He shoves your head down a little rougher, catching you off-guard as warm spurts of his cum shoots deep inside your mouth. Throaty whines and moans accompany his bliss, throat exposed as his head is thrown back in a white-hot ecstasy. He releases his hands from your head, letting you pull away as you take a breath. He’s still hard, angry cock pointing to the sky as it kicks in desire for more of you.

“Get on your back for me,” he pants in a low register. Sitting up, he crawls over you to lay down. “Let me return the favor, like a good lover does.”

You lift your hips up for him as he unbuttons your lower garments and slides it off of your legs before haphazardly tossing it to the floor as he focuses on his desire right between your legs. The sunlight filtering in through the window illuminates your soaked pussy, bathing it in a tantalizing glow.

“She’s crying for me and I haven’t even touched her yet,” he thickly chuckles to himself as he parts your soaked folds with his thumb, earning a weak mewl from you.

“Touch me, Leon. “ You admit in a hushed tone. “Please.”

“I’m going to need you to be a little louder for me, my queen,” he breathes against your inner thigh as he noses your sensitive clit.

“Leon,” you drawl. “Please! Please, just touch me.” Your cheeks burn with embarrassment at hearing yourself beg but you’re given no chance to bask in it before he dives in and plunges his tongue. “Leon!”

He positions your legs to rest against his shoulders, his arm encircled over your hips to gently rub soothing circles against your skin as he laps and licks like a mad hound. He looks up at you, the throb in his weeping cock aching even more powerful as your cries of his name reverbs throughout the room with no regard for who could hear.

“Good girl,” he purred as he plunged his right index into your eager hole and used his left thumb to stroke your pudgy clit. “Good fucking girl.”

“H-Harder,” you breathed as your velvety walls clamped around his finger. “L-Leon…”

“Gotta give my girl what she wants,” your lover breathes as he withdraws his finger to add another one and plunge it inside again. “You hear yourself, love? How she’s so needy for my cock?”

“Fuck!” You curse, writhing due to the overwhelming pleasure that runs through your body. “Ah! T-there, Leon– there, don’t s-stop!”

Your moans increase in volume and pitch, growing more feral and raw with the need to chase after that high as he relentlessly rubs that gummy spot you love.

“That’s it,” you hear him say. “Don’t be quiet, have to let everyone know who I love. Let the princess know, yeah?”

You feel empty again, only for his mouth to engulf your wet sex. Your mouth parted to make way for a primal groan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel that knot in your abdomen tense up for an incoming release.

“Louder baby,” Leon says with a smug smirk. “Let them know how good I treat you– ugh!”

He groans as his eyes shut as you tug on his face forcefully, shoving your pussy into his face as your body shakes with the shockwave of pleasure that crashed over you.

“Leon!” you breathe as you keep his head in place between your legs. “Leon!”

You chant his name over and over again like a prayer, screaming in pleasure as you feel his tongue kitten lick your clit. Your body relaxes, your fingers releasing its vice grip on his hair as your legs fall apart and free his head.

“Are you still with me?” Leon asks as he presses gentle kisses to your cheeks.

“Yes,” you pant as you direct his lips to yours. You hum with the taste of your slick, still not satisfied with being devoured alive alone. “Wan’ more, dove.”

“Good,” he darkly chuckles. “You want me now?”

You nod feverishly, coating his erection in your slick and his spit as you grind despite your overstimulation.

“Fuck,” he hisses as he lines himself up. “Tell me you want me, please, love. Tell me you want me so bad.”

Your hands gently push his hips down to yourself, easing his hot cockhead into you. “I… want you so bad, Leon. So fucking bad.”

“T-That’s it,” he encourages you as he pushes himself in slowly. Despite having made love with him more than twice, his cock still stretched you out like you’ve never taken him before. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

He stills to let you adjust to being stuffed to the brim, occasionally huffing grunts when he feels your walls pulse and constrict around his sensitive cock. Once you give him the go-ahead to move, he moves his head to watch your face scrunch in pleasure as he begins to rock his cock in and out of your soaked pussy.

“I love your whines,” he chuckles. “Fuck, what a slut for me– only me. You’re mine,” he rasped.

“Yours!” You choke out as you drag your nails down his back, certain that it will leave red streaks that would certainly sting later on. “Yours, L-Leon!”

The grind of his recently-trimmed pelvis provided a delicious friction as he drove himself deeper into you, the bed creaking with each thrust.

“L-Love… you!” Leon keened, punctuating his words with harsh slaps. “So fucking much!”

Leon is temporarily taken aback by your hands moving to both sides of his sweat-soaked cheeks as you drew it nearer to yourself and captured his lips in a hungry exchange of passionate-fueled smacks as he delivered more thrusts of growing intensity. He felt his heart drop at the fact that he will need to consummate his marriage with the princess he will soon marry, a dark cloud coming back to trouble his mind, but the feeling of your teeth and tongue on his neck brought him back to the present so he pushed those negative feelings away for now, focusing on how snug your pussy envelopes his cock and how pretty the marks you’ve left on his neck and collar bones are. He does the same, moving your face to the side to paint your neck in reds, purples, and light indents of his teeth on the flesh.

“I’m g-going to cum,” Leon whines against your ear. “F-Fuck! This sweet pussy’s m-made just f’me.”

“Leon!” You exclaim as you cling onto him even more as if he’d be ripped away. “L-Leon, I-I’m going t’cum!”

He knocks the breath away from your lungs, back arched and chest pressed against him as your finger nails embed crescents into his shoulder blades. You weakly gush some more of your juices around his length, velvety pussy rippling around his cock.

With a throaty whine of your name, he holds you close against him as he delivers the last thrust before he shoots his warm spend inside you. He only puts a halt to his shallow thrusts when you tell him to stop as the pleasure is now bordering on discomfort. Ever the caring boyfriend he is, even in times of steaming passion, he looks after your wellbeing. He pushes hair away from your eyes, gently rubbing your cheeks as he adoringly whispers your name while he tends to you first.

“Does anything hurt?” He asks. “Did I cause you any pain?”

You laugh, tucking a long strand of sweat-dampened hair behind his ears. “No, my love. You made me feel happy today, like you always have. Stay with me for a little longer, Leon. I wish to rest with you,” you softly ask of him as you lift your covers to your chest.

“What about cleaning yourself up?” He asks.

“That can wait. I need you now,” you respond. “I meant it when I screamed that I needed you, Leon. I said it with my heart.”

His heart pinches in his chest, unfortunately brought back to the grim reality of his situation but that can wait so for now, he lifts the covers over both your bodies and stretches his arm to let you rest on it, stroking your hair until you fall asleep with no plans to leave despite what awaits him.

NOTE - hi guys!! i decided to try my hand at writing smut so if this isn't the best smut you've ever read, i'd like to apologize because this is my first time!! though it was certainly full of me giggling mid-writing coz i found my situation lowkey funny, i actually had fun but i don't think i'll be writing lots of smut :) i decided to post this to check out the flexibility of my writing skills so this is pretty experimental. i won't be super active in here because my main is @leonw4nter :) i also decided to start a ko-fi [still fixing some things up] in case anyone wants to drop a tip but please, please, please do not think that i'm forcing you to give me some money-- it's just there as a grander form of showing appreciation but likes and reblogs get me going already :) anyway, that's it and thank you for reading this <3 let me know what you guys think in the comments, i'd love to hear your thoughts <3

[porcelainseashore]

Father-in-law Leon strikes again! I'm loving the way you connected it with what it's like to keep a secret and to reveal it. Kind of gave me "In the Mood for Love" vibes - one of my favourite movies btw 🥰

The relief you described when Reader found out that her husband was seeing his secretary was very telling on how the whole relationship was like. It was as if they fell into it by accident and then just went along with it because it was comfortable and society thinks it's the right thing to do.

It goes without saying the smut scene was hot, especially the possessiveness and breeding kink 🫣 Also that Reader agreed to leave her husband for Leon! I'm really wondering how that's gonna play out, and will we see more of this series in the future, since these two can't keep their little secret any longer? ❤️‍🔥

彡 Secret - Leon Kennedy

father in law!Leon Kennedy x daughter in law!afab!reader | 18+ | 3.5k | oneshot

synopsis — Your husband goes on another business trip, an excellent time for you to seek affection with his father.

contents — 18+ heavy smut mdni, pseudo-incest (in-laws), cheating, slight hair pulling, thigh touching, dirty talk, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), tit play, unprotected sex (p in v), breeding kink, possessiveness (a little), and creampie // I do not condone everything I write, this is just fiction if you don’t like don’t read. Read the warnings and continue at our own discretion. I’ve provided ample warning.

tags: @mrswint3rs @elfven-blog (please check the taglist in my pinned post if you want to be tagged in future works)

The essence of secrecy lies in its concealed nature; it is meant to evade the awareness of others in confidence between only a select few, often confined to a mere duo. The revelation of this can imperialise many involved. However, the enigmatic nature of maintaining a secret is undeniably captivating; it entices individuals to guard and preserve its sanctity. The prospect of clandestine knowledge imparts a sense of thrill; it can keep the individual’s heart pumping with adrenaline each second that goes past, and each day, it finds another day to survive between the knowing. Yet, beneath that surface of excitement, the weight of culpability lingers, a moral unease inherent in the act of concealment, the feeling of guilt inhabiting the consciousness of the one keeping it, especially with the amount of gravity certain secrets have—like the one you were holding with Leon. 

When you first sought comfort with your father-in-law, you thought this was going to be a one-time moment of weakness, a feeling that it was just happening through the disconnect with your husband, a moment of letting your desires warp your mind and your morals—but this soon escalated into ‘one time’ being apart of continuous routine. Tiptoeing into his room, sneaking away when your husband was at work, betraying your vows, those sacred words that shouldn’t be tarnished for a few moments of fun, but you were indulging in breaking those promises every moment you lied in Leon’s arms, every moment you let his form engulf you in its shadow, every moment you pressed your arms around him and left sweet kisses on his skin. 

When you wrapped yourself up in a blanket next to your husband, there was a phantom feeling of something tugging at your heart, like a hand squeezing and pulling at it, pushing down into the form of a cold spike feeling travelling down into the pit of your stomach whenever you pictured the inevitable moment when your husband would find out; you weren’t completely stupid, you knew that this would all come out sooner or later, especially with the fact that you were cheating with your husbands father. This wasn’t some secret or tall tale that you could take to the grave with you; no, this was something that needed to be known; it was starting to become more than just bodily fulfilment with another; there was a connection in your betrayal, an emotional one that whenever you parted from his presence you craved to be back into it, and not just through lust, through romantic interest like you formerly had with your husband. The feeling of guilt was only natural when these affairs were starting. Still, it all started to melt away when your husband reciprocated the distance, as well as the infidelity you were providing in the relationship. 

There has always been a lack of chemistry and connection within the relationship; when you first met each other in college, it started as a casual sexual relationship, meeting each other whenever your roommates were gone and finding some late-night indulgences. Then it rolled into something more serious. It was all a blur now; you remember a casual to serious relationship shift; you noticed this when you first met his father. You always thought he was attractive, but you never thought he would be the person you wanted to be with. You felt trapped in this relationship. Granted, your husband never pushed you into that decision, but you felt dependent on him for what he provided, all the benefits he gave you, and even pulled you up in the ranks of your job position; you did owe a lot to him. However, this lack of connection was always found in his wandering eye. 

He always had a wandering eye for every woman who passed but never acted on it…until now. 

You never blamed him or felt betrayed, hell you didn’t even cry or wince in reaction when you were met with the vision of the text messages he shared with his secretary; you just turned the phone off and pretended to be the innocent wife, oblivious to it all; but when you saw those messages, you could only feel… relief? Relief that you weren’t hurting someone in love with you anymore, relief that both of you were aware of this trapped marriage. You were hoping this affair would be the trigger to make him throw the divorce papers in your face, something you were too cowardly to do. 

You were waving off your partner for another business trip; it made you laugh when he would always make up some extravagant lie, always bringing up names to make his lie seem more believable; of course, you always knew when he was lying, he would never maintain eye contact, and whenever you asked who was going, you saw his eyes widen and look around the room trying to remember what he fabricated a few days earlier. If anything, you admired how far he would go. Sometimes, you wondered if he was just doing this to spite you for sleeping with his father, but you didn’t care; you just wanted him gone longer so you could spend time with Leon. 

When telling Leon this, he laughed at how his son was trying to make things even, though he knew his son was awful at covering his tracks; after all, he had known him all his life; he knew what his son was capable and incapable of. When learning the information that your son is cheating on their wife, it arranges multiple reactions. Some people simply do not care, and some even blame the wives. Others will be shocked at their son's behaviour, knowing they didn’t raise him like this and will be there for their daughter-in-law. But Leon, oh, Leon intensely disliked how his son never fully appreciated you. He was also glad that his weak ability to be a husband granted him the opportunity to give the woman whom he couldn’t stop thinking about the attention she deserved. When learning of another business trip his son was going on, he just smirked when hearing your tempting words through the phone, knowing exactly what you were planning and insinuating. 

“He can spend all the time he wants with… Whatever her name is… Now, come to mine; I know you’re free.” 

When you heard those words on the phone, you were quick to leave your house, locking the door and jumping into your car for a few-minute journey to him; you felt your heart flutter and jump within your chest every time the tyre rolled further to your destination, every turn and bend you had on the road, all of it adding to that feeling of impatience whenever you were stopped by traffic. 

You didn’t have to knock; you already had a key to make your way whenever you wanted to, whenever you wanted a late-night roll around when your husband was in a night of deep sleep or having ‘overtime’ at work. You made your way to the staircase and ascended into his room. 

Leon was sitting at his desk, working alone. It was clear that he was probably waiting for you to come a bit later, considering this time of day harboured the most traffic. 

He greeted you with a smile, dropping his pen and looking you up and down under his scrutiny; you felt undressed under his gaze with those longing and erotic states; the tension between you two was undeniable every time you were together, all those pent up desires every time you couldn’t be together all bursted within an explosion of desire whenever people were out of the picture. You could fulfil everything you two thought of. When no one was around, his house was the realm where the secret wasn’t something to hide, but something accepted between you two, something loved by you two. 

You pushed away his work to one side, positioning yourself in between his legs before pushing yourself up to the table, feeling a jolt course through your body when you felt Leon’s large hands slide to the sides of your waist, roaming and sliding down to the plush of your thighs, continuing to maintain that lustrous stare that always made you weak whenever looking deeply back into that blue undressing gaze. 

“It’s rude to ignore a guest, especially when you invite them, Leon,” you said to him, looking down and watching as he took the free invitation to keep touching you, pushing his hands under the flap of your dress, feeling your soft and smooth skin as he caressed you further; a smirk playing at his lips as he witnessed you subtly parting your legs as he continued to keep touching, providing him with a further invitation. 

“True. Especially one that is so beautiful; where are my manners?” he looked up at you as you bent your head forward to meet him, your lips being mere moments away from his, letting that tension arise between the both of you; you leaned in to let him give you a soft and tender kiss, a kiss that slowly increased into further sensual deep interlocks between you two. 

He pushed one of his hands to the back of your head, tangling his fingers within the strands of your hair, slightly tugging at it to make you release soft winces; you bit your lip as you two both continued to share erotic eye contact that was already creating a knot within your stomach and made your heartbeat deeper and your breaths deeper. As you were lost in those pools of blue, you expressed a sharp and high-pitched gasp when his fingers led to your clothed core, feeling the tips of his fingers rub circles around, pulling sweet and tender moans from you. 

“How long is he gone for?”

“A week,” Leon pushed his fingers with harder pressure as he rubbed your sensitive bud through the wet patch already formed from his long digits. 

“Good. A week with me, would you like to stay here, darling? I wouldn’t want you to be lonely,” you could only release a nod as you pressed your lips into a line, squeezing your eyes shut as he pushed his index and middle finger deeper and circulated in a clockwise motion—from just a tiny amount of time he knew what would drive you crazy. “Use your words, sweetheart; I can’t mind read,” he tilted his head to the side as he waited for you to open your mouth. 

“Yes, I would, yes I would want that,” you managed to fabricate your chosen words in a breathy release as he quicked his motions, moans wanting to erupt already to replace your words.

“Am I already driving you crazy?” you nodded again, “I love it when you’re easy for me… And only me,” his words were elongated, arousal and stimulation within the way he spoke that made your core flutter in excitement and anticipation, even more so when he wrapped the tip of his finger around the side of your already soaked panties, and slowly pushing them to the side, he wasn’t going to rush this no matter how many times he felt you, he always wanted to savour the feeling of making you his. 

He lifted your skirt even further to witness your glistening cunt, feeling your heat as he lingered his fingers around your inner thigh, teasing you even more, not knowing when he was going to draw more moans from you, simply with his fingers.

“Do you want to feel good, sweetheart?” you nodded, looking down and spreading your legs even further, “You’re such a dirty little slut for me, aren’t you? Yet you won’t just leave him.” 

You had been thinking of leaving your husband ever since you started this affair with Leon, and he wasn’t going to leave it alone until you were his, not just in bodily and emotional connection, but under the eyes of the law and society, he wanted everyone to know that you were his girl. 

“You know it w-won’t be any longer,” your breathing hitched as you waited for Leon’s fingers to creep themselves inside you, feeling a tingle and tightening sensation within your stomach the way he looked at you with those eyes that controlled all your feelings. 

He ran his thumb over your soft mouth, his other fingers on his left hand rubbing your wet slit, dragging the tips of his fingers along your soaked cunt. Hearing your heavy breathing, he pulled you back for another kiss, his tongue entering your mouth and swirling and sliding on yours, enjoying every minute and surprised little noise secreted from your mouth, muffled by his kisses. He pushed his long and thick digits inside you, slowly, pulling a long and quiet moan as he bit your bottom lip in between kisses, feeling him slowly pump and curl his fingers as your walls tightened around them. 

“Does my dirty girl want more?” he whispered to you in between kisses, “and I expect you to use your manners.” He always loved to have that cocky attitude with you, always loving to have the upper hand, knowing you melted every time you felt his touch, forever in his submission. 

“Yes, please, Leon,” you begged. 

“Good girl.”

He left one final wet kiss on your lips before pushing his chair away with a harsh kick and letting his face be in front of your pussy, your aching pussy that was craving him all through the journey, that craved him every night and day when you were apart. He kissed lightly at your pussy before enclosing your clit with his lips, interlocking with your wet and soft folds, his tongue lapping and dancing around your sensitive cluster of nerves, continuing to pump his long fingers inside you, circling your bud over and over again in perfect rhythm to pushing his digits further into your throbbing cunt, feeling his cock harden inside his pants every time your taste lingered around in his mouth, every time he took ownership with having fun with you. 

“All mine,” he quickly said as he continued to press his face back in between your thighs, his hand massaging your thigh, “I’ll never get tired of tasting you,” you felt him smile against you, his breathing deepening as you continued to moan for him. 

“Fuck, Leon-” your back arched as your fingers messed through his blonde locks, tugging and ruffling as your head continued to be kicked back. Your eyes squeezed shut as you let his soft lips continue to be attached to your clit, sucking and circling it, his fingers keeping you on the edge and making your toes curl with each load of erotic sound to fill the room’s atmosphere. Leon loved how much you squirmed as you tensed every muscle in your body when feeling that pleasure course through you at the hands and skill of Leon; you felt a pulsating scream ready to roll through your body as you whined from the stimulation; Leon continued to put you over the edge as he increased the speed and rhythm, setting another catalyst for your first orgasm so he threw his hand on your breast and squeezed it tightly, your skin poking out in the gaps of his fingers, later rolling your hardened nipple with his fingers while hungrily lapping his tongue around your clit, like being indulged into an addictive sweet treat. 

“Leon!” you screamed like you always did, and he continued to love hearing those sounds. 

Your thighs continue to tighten, your pussy spasming, and Leon’s tongue awaiting as you squeezed your eyes shut and engaged your core, releasing a clear and delicious release into his mouth, inviting Leon to lick up every drop and savouring the flavour only he craved every morning and night. He licked up a strip of your pussy, slowly pulling his fingers away as he watched your chest move up and down in rapid action with your changed breathing patterns. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not done yet,” he cooed as he licked his lips, watching your face beg for more. Your heart practically leapt when hearing those words, ready for whatever dictation he will provide for you. 

He continued to unbutton and drop his pants down, his erection bouncing out and exposing its red blushed tip already leaking with precum from just receiving the taste of you; you moved off the table and were ready to feel him deep inside, but his next words stopped you momentarily. 

“Why don’t you just leave him when he comes back… He’s got somebody… And I don’t want us to keep being secretive,” his hands were placed on your hips, you hoovering over him and feeling your heartbeat move at a quicker pace. “I make you feel better than he ever did. Marry me instead. I know that’s what you want, baby,” a blush crept on your cheeks as he continued to rub your sides, putting pressure on you with his touch. 

“Hm, sorry for putting you on the spot, let’s resume-” 

“Yes. I will. I will leave him for you.”

Leon’s eyes widened; you no longer felt his touch pressure down onto your skin. He stopped there momentarily as if time had frozen within his body clock.

Then that smirk came back. That knowing smirk of him finally getting his way, that smirk revealing he could finally have you and not just as an affair, he wouldn’t want to give a damn what others thought; he finally had you, and having you was all that mattered to him. 

“Come here, you,” he growled as he pulled your underwear, his eagerness igniting impatience as he pulled hard enough for the delicate fabric to rip, the threads pulling out in intricate patterns, pulled down to the carpeted floor; you didn’t care as he pulled you and sat you on his lap, feeling his cock push inside your wet, throbbing, squelching cunt as he aggressively thrusted you down on him, hearing the slap of your skin come crashing down on his thighs, erupting another deep moan out of you as you felt his large cock pressed inside and wrapped around your tight and warm walls. 

“Fuck. You’re so tight, baby.” You bounced with the help of Leon’s hands tucked underneath your ass and bouncing you on his member, pushing along his length further inside of you as he felt a craving that now belonged to him, “God. You feel amazing,” he continued to hiss as he felt you, his cock continuing to twitch as he heard your continuous gasps and moans. 

“Mmm, you’re so good,” you managed to get the words out as his large hands continued to grip your ass, watching his eyes darken with lust and possession as he watched your tits bounce in front of him with every thrust he pumped inside of you. 

“Just like that,” you found the perfect rhythm for him, “Umpth, you’re doing so good, baby,” he kicked his head back as you continued bouncing along his length, a red flush engulfing your pretty face, drool collecting at the corners of your mouth as you continued to scream for Leon and watch his perfect frame push inside of you. 

You whimpered as he squeezed your ass hard, your walls clenching around his dick even harder and making his desperation to finish inside you grow as you screamed his name again, releasing another loud luscious orgasm that drove Leon crazy with the fact he knew your body so well. 

“Cum for me, Leon,” you whispered, “you know I want to feel it. You know I love it,” you continued to push Leon when you saw that look in his eyes, knowing he was close. 

“Hmm, god,” he continued to growl as he felt your pussy tighten around him, “Oh sweetheart, I don’t just need a ring to prove to-to everyone you chose the better man… I need to fucking breed that, that perfect pussy,” he couldn’t create a perfect sentence without being interrupted with the odd messing up of words, focusing on trying not to cum until he finally let this words out; the effort to not release inside you was building up, beads of sweat were forming across his forehead and his chest puffed out in deeper breathing. 

“Do it then, I’m all yours.” 

A glimmer crossed his blue gaze as he pumped his last belligerent thrusts inside of you, his arms wrapped around your waist tightly. His face buried in your tits as he released his white and creamy cum inside of your walls, shooting inside of you with desperation, slowly pushing it further inside you, the head of his cock continuing to bash against your cervix as he fucked his seed further inside of you. His actions released a long, drawn-out moan escaping your glossy lips, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your formerly tense body melted back into relaxation and your breathing becoming laboured as you felt his cum pool inside of you, the rest trickling down your sticky thighs as you tried to catch you breath. 

A secret is always fun to keep, but it eventually comes out, whether from being revealed by another or from people no longer being able to keep it inside and wanting the whole world to know.

please remember the best way of supporting writers is by liking and reblogging, i give everyone love who has taken the time of their day to read what i have created, thank you *kiss kiss*.

[leonkennedybreedingkink]

NEUTRON STAR

real dad!leon kennedy x reader

tags: dddne. discussion of incest and noncon, implied child abuse (one line), spit, vomit discussion, hallucinations, victim blaming, discussion of ptsd and anxious behaviors (from personal experience). reference to my dark vanessa btw.

Session transcript, October twenty-first, 2018. [15:03]

Patient: Kennedy

”Ms. Kennedy, would you tell me why you’re here?” Your therapist asks after five minutes of silence, her pen writing the date and time on the right corner of her legal pad.

[Silence.]

A steadying inhale. “The court ordered me to.”

More scratching. ”And why is that?”

“They say I’m traumatized.” You answer, audible clicking noises as you pick at your cuticles.

“Why is that?” Your therapist asks, eternally patient and blank.

“‘Cause my dad and I had sex.”

The pen stops scratching, then scratches again briefly. “Would you elaborate?”

You scoff audibly.

[Silence.]

“My dad and I had sex. That’s it.”

More scratching. “What led to that event?”

A long sigh through one’s nose. “Um, I came home from college for the weekend. I was hanging out with my dad and doing nothing when I… felt weird. My, my wine tasted salty, I almost spat it out.”

Scratching. Patient’s wine was drugged by father.

“My head… felt fuzzy. Couldn’t move my arms or legs, they felt so heavy. I thought I was gonna throw up and choke on it, like Jane.”

”Jane? Is this a friend of yours?”

”No, um. Breaking Bad. She was Jesse’s girlfriend. She did a speedball with him and Walter rolled her onto her back on accident. When she puked, she choked on it and died.” More clicking. “That’s what I mean.”

”I see.” Scratching as she writes down the events in order. “You may continue.”

”Anyway, uh,” Your voice wobbles slightly. “I was in and out of it. Dad, um.” You clear your throat.

[Silence.]

”He… pulled down my pants, my sweatpants. He… fingered me, and it hurt, cause I was dry. Despite the wine.” Your voice lowers ashamedly. “I came.”

Patient focusing on smaller details outside of rape by her father.

“Then he pulled down his pants and got on top of me.” Sniff, sniff. Rustling as your therapist hands you a tissue box. “Thank you.”

”You’re welcome.”

You clear your throat. “Then we had sex. He drooled in my mouth. I was… I was drooling a lot, there was a wet spot on the couch the day after. I threw up the entire day afterward.”

The scratching stops. Insistence on ‘sex’ instead of rape. ”Was this… a pattern?”

A loud sniffle. “Pattern?”

”Did he violate other women?”

”I don’t fucking know.” You blow your nose and toss the tissue out. “How do I know they didn’t want it, if he did?”

Patient blames other hypothetical victims.

”Did he violate you any more after this initial encounter?”

A derisive laugh from you. “It wasn’t a violation, it was sex. With him. The law says a lot of things are wrong without taking nuance into account.”

A scratch as your therapist underlines insistence on ‘sex’ instead of rape. “How often did your encounters with your father occur?”

Your voice lowers. ”At least twice a week.”

Violations from father at least twice a week.

“All the specifics.” You snort, blowing your nose again and throwing out the tissue. A soft squelching noise as you squirt some hand sanitizer into your hand and the wet sound of you rubbing your irritated and chafed hands together.

Patient compulsively washes hands.

“Is this the point where you diagnose me?”

“No, that comes after a few more sessions of getting to know you.”

Another derisive laugh.

”Are there any encounters with your father that stick out in your mind?”

”Chickenshit.”

[Silence.]

”I’m sorry?”

“You’re a chickenshit.”

”Why is that?”

“You won't call it what it really is. It’s just sex, it doesn’t mean anything.”

Patient is in denial.

A deep inhale from your therapist. “What you just described to me sounds like no consensual sexual encounter I’d ever heard of. Are there any encounters with your father that stick out in your mind?”

Clicking. Clicking. Clicking. “We went hunting over Thanksgiving break. Mom died close to Thanksgiving. We, uh, went up to the cabin and got settled in before we had sex again. He made me promise not to tell anyone, afterward.” Pause, dead air. “And I didn’t.”

First encounter: Patient was home for the weekend from college and was drinking. Father drugged her wine and raped her on the couch. Patient threw up all day and the day after.

Second encounter: brought patient up to a cabin to go hunting, raped her, and made her promise never to tell anyone. Patient followed instructions.

”We went hunting in the morning and brought home a doe. I thought—“ Your voice breaks and you clear your throat. “When dad slung her over her shoulder, I saw myself. And when he showed me how to butcher a deer and when I was butchering it, I saw myself again.”

Patient hallucinated herself as the deer her father killed and brought home for meat.

“I threw up outside.”

“That must’ve been distressing.”

A snort. “You think?”

Scratching. Patient extremely defensive as a response to long-term trauma—uses sarcasm and humor to deflect.

”Is there anything about your relationship that sticks out in your mind? Did he manipulate you?”

A haughty scoff. “Him sharing his feelings isn’t manipulation. That’s what’s wrong with psychiatry, it pathologizes normal human behavior.”

Patient exhibiting protective behaviors over her father, herself, and their relationship. Cognitive dissonance to distance herself from what happened as a protective measure.

“What feelings did he share with you?”

[Silence.]

”That he was lonely.” Your voice quiets down. “He’s my only family, and I’m his only family. We’ve only got one another, since mom died. He didn’t wanna lose me. That’s why we got so close.”

Use of present tense when describing her and her father’s relationship. Father employed emotional manipulation to groom patient into accepting a sexual relationship after the second rape.

“So your father intentionally isolated you from everyone else and made you feel as though you were the only one who could save him.” Your therapist says patiently.

”No, he didn’t.” You say stonily. “I still had friends and people I could talk to. He never took my keys or anything like that.”

”I mean emotional isolation. Your father very carefully whittled you away from your friends and made you feel as though you only could be understood by him.”

”Well, he didn’t, no matter what the DSM or ABC or whatever the fuck says. He’s my dad, he’d never hurt me.”

Stomping, and a door slamming shut.

Patient has hit a wall when it comes to recovery: cannot fathom her father raping her willfully and has mental walls in place to avoid reality of incestuous sexual abuse.

Session three transcript, November fourth, 2018. [29:58]

Patient: Kennedy

“Before we get started, I’d like to thank you for coming in for another session with me.”

”The lawyers are paying for it, figured I wouldn’t waste their money.” Click, click.

“Right, I see.” Patient is not coming of her own volition. “Actually, I’d wanted to ask you a question before we continue from last time, if that’s alright with you.”

”Uh, okay. Shoot.” Rustling as you adjust yourself.

”Since your father’s incarceration, how have you been sleeping?”

[Silence.]

“Not well.” You don’t speak very loudly, it’s hard to hear over the recording. “I have to down a bunch of nyquil every night just to go to sleep. And even then, um… I don’t sleep well. I have a bunch of waking interruptions and nightmares.”

“Would you be willing to tell me what the nightmares entail?”

Rustling as you shift again. ”It’s dad. Always him.” You clear your throat. “It’s almost always the first time we had sex, too. I… can always taste the wine. And… my tears.” Your voice wobbles. “And… the pain. Like he was gouging at me from the inside. Even after I came.”

A sniffle and rustle as you take the tissue box. “Thank you.”

”What happens after you wake up?”

”I can’t sleep. I don’t. I get up and watch TV or play on my phone, since there’s—“ You cut yourself off, blowing your nose.

Scratching of a pen. Patient has nightmares and acute stress response to said nightmares. Patient afflicted by insomnia.

“Since what?”

”Since there’s nobody else for me to wake up. I slept better when we slept in the same bed.” You murmur, almost inaudible. “My dad and I, I mean. He… it was like having an octopus in the bed. I’d always wake up sweating because he runs so hot and he’d be clinging to me. I didn’t sleep in his bed until after our second time.” Your words muffle as you put your face in your hands.

More scratching. Patient and father codependent, typical of familial abuse survivors.

“Is there anything else you’re experiencing since your father’s incarceration?”

Cracking as you pop your knuckles nervously. “I can’t see police lights anymore. I… they make me hyperventilate. I feel like I can’t breathe. I can’t watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer anymore.”

Scratching: trauma responses to related stimuli (e.g., police lights).

”How come?”

”I got to season six in my rewatch. And… Buffy’s almost raped by her boyfriend in an episode. Onscreen, violently.”

[Uncomfortable silence.]

“I couldn’t see, and I was back on the couch with him on top of me. I felt… phantom pain. And I was crying. I couldn’t stop.” Your voice breaks and you pull a tissue from the box, blowing your nose and throwing it out. Wet squelching as you sanitize your irritated hands.

Your therapist adds, patient exhibits trauma response to sexual abuse related stimuli. Beneath your name, she writes Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder with anxious facets.

“And all—“ your voice breaks, soft sniffles leaving you as you try to keep it together, “all I can think is that I wanted it. I must’ve told him, shown him, something. I must have.”

Rustling as your therapist stands up, pouring a glass of water from a pitcher.

“Thank you.” Your voice is wet and raw as you take the cup, soft swallows echoing through the recording.

Brief silence as your therapist waits for you to compose yourself. “I think we should have a discussion about personal responsibility.”

A mirthless chuckle. “I’m sure. Isn’t this the part where you coddle me and tell me that I didn’t do anything wrong?”

”It is, because you didn’t. Let’s unpack this.”

A groan under your breath. “Goodie.”

”So, what makes you think you did something to tell him you wanted him to have sex with you?” Patience, must meet the patient where they’re at.

”I… I don’t know.” Your voice quiets like your head dips forward. “Maybe it was unconscious.”

”I see. You wanted your father to have sex with you. But you saying that you wanted it and broadcasted it to him unconsciously doesn’t answer why he had to drug you.”

Footsteps and muffled sniffles and sobs, a door opening and shutting.

Your therapist lets her last client out for the day, locking the practices’ doors behind her and walking out to her car in the lot, heels clicking on the pavement and sidewalk. Her phone rings in her bag and she pauses, pulling open her bag and fishing through the mess in her bag to pull her phone out.

It’s you.

You’d reluctantly accepted her phone number after session eight, for use during emergencies.

She picks up, putting her bag back over her shoulder and walking to her car. She unlocks it and tosses her bag in the passenger seat.

“Ms. Kennedy?” She asks after a period of quiet sobbing on your end of the line.

”He—“ You clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle a loud sob. “He said he didn’t want to see me. Ever. And I’m no daughter of his. He—He thinks I sold him out and left him to rot.” The last word trails off into sob into your palm, wet and ragged inhales almost painful to listen to.

Oh. You’d gone to visit him today, you’d made a remark about that after the last session.

“I didn’t, I told him I kept the promise, I swore to him.” You’re nearly incomprehensible through your tears. “It was those other bitches who’d made that complaint and got him locked up, it wasn’t me.”

Your therapist listens silently, heart breaking with every sob.

”And he’d—“ A dry sob. “He’d told me that he loved me so much, that what we did was a natural extension of his love for me as his daughter, that he didn’t want to lose me, he needed me like air. Did he lie? Was it all a lie? He’s my only family, he’s all I’ve got.”

You sob between your words. “He’s all I’ve got and he’s cut me off. I have nobody. And I—I felt so small, like I was nine and he was having a fit again, breaking glasses and all that shit.”

A pause as you keep sobbing, making no effort to muffle yourself. “I wish my mom was here. I wish he was here. I just want—“ A pained inhale.

Your therapist cries with you.

“I just want a hug. He’s my dad, and I love him, and I just want one last hug.”

She sits in silence with you, intermittent sniffing coming through the receiver. Eventually, you blow your nose and sanitize your hands.

“If it’s not a love story, what is it?” Your voice comes through, heartbreakingly small and raw.

You know the answer: rape, incest, abuse of power, emotional manipulation and abuse.

“I… I need it to be a love story. It has to be, because I have nothing left if it isn’t.”

[leonsliga]

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CwZ3A3asy7f/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

Normal fun content with leon = better day immediately!

Mood = boosted 😁🎉 seeing Leon smile is always a sign of good things to come!!

Side note: I love how Manu’s hands are so steady while Leon’s are shaking with every pour 😂 and ofc, the video could only end one way: obligatory flicks for the loser and Leon smiling through the pain of receiving them

[rveyjules]

A Second Chance

Part 1, Part 2

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Prime Minister's Daughter! Reader (ft. Ada Wong)

Genre: Smut, Romance, Angst

Warning: cheating, Leon is obsessed with the reader, taking photos, the reader is cold but deep inside she’s a sweetheart, mentions of arranged marriage, pure smut (masturbation, foreplay, kissing, breasts fondling and sucking, markings,  p in v intercourse, virgin sex, penetrative sex, Leon is huge [I think it's at least 9 inches, sheesh], creampie, aftercare)

Word count: 6.2k

Summary: As the eldest daughter of the Prime Minister and one of the faces of the family, you received multiple assassination attempts. So, your father hired someone to keep an eye on you. And to your surprise, out of all people, it was Leon Kennedy your father picked for you. You and Leon had a secret relationship but soon did not last because another woman came into his life. Now that the both of you meet again, will it be the start of chaos or a continuation of romance?

author's note: This is the second part of my story. This story is entirely fictional. I do not know what the President and the Prime Minister exactly do for the country. Same with the occupation of being a prosecutor and the chief of the CIA. English is not my mother tongue so pardon if you encounter mistakes and grammatical errors. This is only for entertainment purposes only. And minors, please do your homework first.

—

“The jury found the defendant guilty.” 

               Joyful sounds were heard from your client, who was the victim, and from her family. You closed your eyes and a sigh of relief escaped your mouth, smiling at your performance today. You just won another trial. The suspect is proven guilty with the evidence you have against him and the jury was on your side. 

“The jury is thanked and excused. The court is adjourned.” 

               You turned to your female client. She’s a 22-year-old who was a victim of rape and sexual assault. You promised her that you will do your best to give her the justice she was longing for after being made fun of by her schoolmates, calling her such names, giving her judgemental looks, and earning a lot of hurtful words.

        It has come to the point where she almost took her own life on the rooftop of the apartment she was staying at. Being a victim of rape is traumatizing. It would take time before you recovered completely from what happened by going under rehabilitation and psychological observation. But today, justice is served.

“Thank you so much, prosecutor!” Her mom shakes my hand repeatedly. You can’t count how many times her family expressed their gratitude for helping the child. You giggled and patted the mother’s shoulder. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you hired me as your lawyer. By the way, how was your rehabilitation?” You asked the last part, looking at your client. She has a smile on her face, brighter than the times we met before the trial and you just realized how pretty the child is. 

“It’s all nice and okay. Prosecutor,” She took a few steps ahead towards you and held your hand. “I don’t know how to express my feelings in court. Our opponent came from a prestigious family in the town. I am afraid that we will not win because of how powerful their family is. I think I underestimated you a little and I’m sorry for that. I see how focused you were in every trial session. And now that it was confirmed that he was the bad guy, I felt so happy. So, thank you so much, Prosecutor L/n.” 

            You smiled at her and cupped her cheeks. “You’re a law student, right? I want to give you some advice that can help you when you become an attorney one day,” I paused. “I considered going into law. Not because of money, but for the thrill of problem-solving. And always remember, be an independent woman. You are what you are. Face them with your head high. Justice is served and the suspect is proven guilty.” 

            The girl nodded and gave you a tight hug. “I hope we will meet again in the future, attorney.” You nodded your head and hugged her back. “I’m looking forward to it, dear.” 

           From a distance, Leon watched how you comforted a girl after winning a nerve-wracking and intense trial in the court just now. He crossed his arms and smiled, seeing you being warm around your client. Leon received a voicemail from his earpiece, 

“Agent Kennedy, the Prime Minister, scheduled a meeting with Prosecutor L/n.” 

“Copy,” He replied before approaching you. 

               The mother of your client acknowledged his presence as Leon made his way toward you. The older woman smiled at him before looking back at you and asked something unexpected…

“Is he your husband? You two look great together.”  

                 Your eyes widened and immediately denied it. “No, we’re not. He’s not my husband. I’m still single.” You awkwardly replied. Leon was taken aback by the woman’s question and quite affected when you quickly denied the woman’s question. He felt butterflies in his stomach at the thought of you being his wife. 

“Sorry for misunderstanding but he’s only my bodyguard. He’s only with me for safety purposes.” You explain, smiling to ease the uncomfortable feeling you have. The woman nodded in understanding.  

“You’re too pretty to not be in a relationship but I respect your decision if you’re not into relationships.” She smiled and you thanked her for understanding. When your client and her family have left, you turn to Leon and shoot him a death glare. 

“Seriously? You as my husband? Hell, no.” You sharply claimed. Leon cleared his throat and replied, “I just want to say that the Prime Minister scheduled a meeting with you.” You rolled your eyes at him. 

“When you received a voicemail, I received a text message from the Prime Minister.  At least you should have waited for my client to leave before popping out of nowhere only to be misunderstood as my husband.” You snarled. Leon finds you cute, though. 

“Bet you feel the butterflies in your stomach, don’t you?” He asked flirtatiously, making you scoff. 

“Butterflies,” You scoffed and chuckled sarcastically. “I got headaches.” With that, you walked past him to the exit. 

—

“Papa, you know I don’t want to be in a relationship. How many times do I need to tell you that? I don’t even want to go on a date, why are they trying to put me up in an arranged marriage?!” You snapped, rubbing your temples. 

            The meeting your father scheduled is private and personal. Right now, in front of your parents and the Senator’s son that was supposed to be your husband in this arranged marriage, looked at you in disbelief. You declared your plan in life and that is you’re not going to get married to anyone. 

“Y/n!” Your father yelled angrily. “For our family’s sake! Senator Carter’s son is the right man for you! You know that this man has the potential to become a President in the future! I want you to become the First Lady of this country.” 

“But being a First Lady has limitations, Papa! And also, it will only give me more responsibilities!” You retorted back. 

“You’re already thirty-three, Y/n. A perfect age to prepare yourself—” 

“I am not interested in becoming a First Lady,” You interrupted. "Besides, I am not into politicians. Helping the government is enough for me but marrying a politician? No." 

          With that, you grabbed your bag and walked out of the room, leaving your parents disappointed and frustrated. You can hear your dad calling out your name but you did not turn back. Tears filled your eyes, and you couldn't bear the fact that your parents are forcing you to marry someone you don't love. 

           Leon noticed your expression and he knew something was wrong. "Y/n, what happened in–" He was interrupted when you snapped at him, “Shut up! This is all your fault!” 

        He was startled and the guards that were securing the area looked in your direction. Tears started falling down your eyes, and couldn't bear the pain. “This is all your fault.” You whispered before storming out of the establishment. 

            You get the keys from your driver and ride the car before driving on your own. You sobbed as you sped up on the highway but were still aware of the speed limit. You want some time alone. Betrayals, family pressure, arranged marriage… Goddamned it, why can’t you be free from this? The trauma of your past relationship with Leon did a lot of damage. You run your hand on top of your head, calming yourself down.  

—

            In your house, you are checking the report of the CIA. There are files that must go under your consent so you have a lot of papers to sign. It’s not new for you anymore. Being a prosecutor, a superior of a top security agency, as well as being a politician’s daughter has its pros and cons. When it comes to wealth and fame, you got the jackpot. But when it comes to responsibility…

“Goddamn, I need a vacation.” You sighed as you signed the last file and put them organized on the shelf. 

           And then, Leon popped into your mind out of nowhere. He has been working under you for three months now. You are secretly doing everything to make him leave. You mean it when you say you don’t need him anymore. But there are times where Leon would be so caring of you. He’d hold your hand secretly when the two of you are close to each other in crowded places. He’d take off his jacket and put it on your shoulders when he saw you shivering. Although you are cold and dismissive to him, he’s still caring for you and his love language was still the same as before. 

           Turning your heel, you went to the window and watched the city lights of Washington D.C. You want to take a break. You want to sleep all day,knowing that you deserved it for doing a great job. But you simply can’t. Even falling asleep in your room is sometimes difficult, especially when you feel something is not right. The President needs you to be active 24/7. The White House could call you anytime when an emergency occurs. Even if it was two in the morning, you need to get up and meet the President and cabinet secretaries. 

           You are so powerful that’s why there are people who tried to kill you. Imagine, surviving five assassination attempts. You may be looking cool but deep inside you are scared. Those moments where you were stunned when the assassin pulled the trigger of his gun and you barely dodge them. It makes you feel like a child, being scared when you are supposed to be brave. 

           Taking off your gloves, you looked at your scars and caressed them. You thought the pain was gone, thinking that your scars symbolizes your bravery despite being left out. But everythings is coming back ever since Leon came back. With that you remembered how you struggled just to survive.  

         Three days after Leon left with Ada, you almost lost your sanity thinking that surviving the apocalypse is impossible. You have no one to lean on. You barely make it to find an abandoned store with foods and drinks that can ease your thirst and hunger. The city was filled with zombies. Finding a safe place to stay is difficult. The device you used to track Ada’s identity was broken. It was your only hope to contact your father. 

         Every day, you’d cry while washing your wounds on your wrists to prevent contamination and easier access for infection. Being alone and desperate to survive scared you the most. You are asking yourself what you ever did to them to leave you in this state. As for your relationship with Leon, thinking about those times when you caught him with Ada, doing the unthinkable emotionally damaged you. 

“Leon– ahh!” Ada moaned as Leon pressed his half naked body to her, sucking her neck and leaving marks on her skin. “Y/n would get suspicious where did I get this,” Ada said but Leon didn’t budge. 

            Instead, he lifted the skirt of her dress and pulled her underwear out of her legs before undoing his pants and taking his member out of its cage. “Just be quiet. She wouldn’t know that we’re doing this.” He smirked before slipping his hardened cock into Ada’s aching hole. 

           They tried to be quiet to hide their secret affair while you were standing by the door, sobbing quietly. You heard how Ada moaned and praised Leon at how good he makes her feel. And then there was you, heart shattered into pieces. You felt numb and couldn’t feel or hear anything aside from the sinful sounds coming from them. 

           That piece of memory made you punch the mirror in front of you, breaking it. Your knuckles started to bleed. You covered your ears as you fell on your knees, traumatized and heartbroken. You knew that things would go wrong between you and Leon. But this is beyond your expectation. Never in your life you thought that he would do that.

          One day, you found a radio in the establishment where you are currently staying. It was functioning and you heard voices coming from the radio. You realized that it can connect to a military base. You grabbed it and spoke to the speaker. It says that the government will bomb the city to stop the virus from spreading. Hearing this increased your fear. You don’t want to die with these monsters.

“Is this the military? Please, help me. I’m a survivor.” You said, hoping that they will hear your voice. 

        After a few seconds of silence, the voice on the other line spoke. “This is Commander Valdez speaking. Please, state your name and current location.” Your hope was growing as the commander replied. 

“My name is Y/n L/n, daughter of Senator L/n. I’m a first year college student, studying Law. I am in a safe room of the high-rise hospital in Raccoon City. Please, help me. Zombies are surrounding the area.” You sobbed. 

         Hearing that you are the daughter of the Senate President caused the Commander to order to gather up his men and prepare to rescue you and also ordered the President to refrain from releasing an order to wipe out Raccoon City until you are completely rescued. 

“Miss L/n, listen carefully to my instructions. My men will be there in less than an hour. Now, I want you to prepare yourself to fight against the horde of zombies. The President has moved the time of releasing the bomb. They will nuke the city after we rescue you. I know you have limited resources to use as your weapon but I hope you can find some to defend yourself.”

“Yes, sir.”

“The military is on its way. Go to the rooftop of the hospital. The military chopper will come to rescue you. Goodluck.” Then your conversation ended. 

             This is your last chance. You must make it out of this damned city. You went to the bathroom of the safe room and looked at yourself through the mirror. You washed your face to make up your mind and covered your injuries with a clean cloth. You wear your jacket and luckily found a baseball bat as your weapon. With a deep breath, you gathered all your strength and prepared yourself for a life-or-death fight against those monsters. 

            You walked out of the safe room quietly to prevent attracting the attention of the zombies. You held your weapon tightly, alert for any zombies to come to your way. You are currently on the 20th floor of the hospital. The rooftop is on the 25th floor. Of course, as you expected, zombies found you and chased after you. You run for your life, hitting those zombies who will try to grab you or block your path with a baseball bat. 

            Anger was rushing through your veins that you went on a killing spree with a single weapon. You looked out the window as you ran and found the helicopter coming to the hospital you are in. This increased your hopes in survival. Little by little, you made it to the rooftop. You closed and blocked the door with anything that you think can prevent those zombies opening the door. 

          The helicopter has found you from a far distance. You waved your hands in the air as you jumped to gain their attention. But the zombies managed to break in and it found you. You turned around and fear creeped out to your veins. A large horde of zombies are coming towards you. Then, you heard loud gunshots coming from the soldiers, shooting the zombies as the helicopter moved downwards on the edge of the rooftop.

“Miss Y/n! Hop on!” A soldier yelled through the loud sound of the propeller. 

                You ran towards them and jumped to the helicopter, feeling a little relieved to be rescued. The helicopter started to move away as the zombies were falling down from the building, mindlessly trying to reach for us. The soldiers check on you to see if you are bitten. The pilot spoke through the radio. 

“General, Y/n L/n is successfully rescued from the Raccoon City. She’s not bitten or infected, just some injuries that need medical attention. Aside from that, everything is cleared.” 

“Roger that,” You heard the military general replied through the radio. 

               After a few moments, when you are far enough from the city, you hear a loud, roaring, and huge explosion. You looked out and saw an atomic bomb explosion, destroying Raccoon City. You saw how wide the bomb reached to kill those who were alive or undead. You survived the chaos on your own. You make it out of the forsaken city. You are the last man standing. The city where Leon promised you that you build your dreams and goals has been wiped out into ashes.

            A sigh escapes your mouth as you caress your scars. For everyone who barely knows you, wearing gloves is your trademark in fashion. People never see you take them off or go out without gloves on. But your family and other important people in your life know what’s behind that piece of clothing. It’s not like you were ashamed of it. It’s just that it hurts you emotionally as you remembered that you went under hard and difficult circumstances just to survive as those people you helped betrayed and left you to die. 

            Your phone opened and rang, snapping you back to your senses. You turned around and grabbed your phone. It’s a call from your older brother, Judge Dylan L/n. You picked up the call and put the phone next to your ear. 

“Dylan? What can I do for you?” You asked. 

“Y/n, Papa called me just now. What was that behavior?” He asked calmly but there’s a lingering strict tone. 

“If you’ll scold me, I’ll hang up.” You scoffed. 

“Y/n, you are the only daughter of the Prime Minister of the country and has the potential to become a First Lady.”

“I know that. Among the Prime Minister’s five children, I am the youngest and the only daughter. But that doesn’t mean that I need to go under his order to marry a politician.”

“But the boy is the son of the Senate President.”

“Dylan, please. Don’t make yourself a problem for me. He didn’t even congratulate me for winning my case today. He just called a private meeting only to say that I am bound to marry the man and ended up scolding.” 

“Patience is a virtue, Y/n,” Dylan paused. “I know that your past relationship still affects you. But in this case, you are just proving to them that you haven’t moved on from your ex-lover. Y/n, it’s been fifteen years…” 

             You sighed, heading over the table to pour yourself a glass of wine. 

“Please, believe me when I say that I truly moved on from my past relationship. It’s just that…” You paused, trying to find the right word to say. “The pain was coming back. You know that feeling when you believe in yourself that you are completely free but the truth is you are still chained up to the past?”

“Did you and that guy cross paths again?” He asked and you hummed. 

“I don’t know if fate is fooling around with me. After fifteen years, why did he come back? I mean, I don’t want to see him or even cross paths again with him but then, one day he just appeared out of nowhere.” You explained. Your brother chuckled at your response. 

“I think I know the guy you are talking about. Leon Kennedy, right? Your ex-lover but currently your bodyguard.” You pouted as his response. “If Papa knows that Leon Kennedy is your ex, what do you think he will do?” He asked.

“He will fire him immediately, probably.” You replied. 

“Wrong,” Dylan quickly responded. “You and Papa never interact with each other that much, that's why you don’t know the possibility of his reaction regarding the issue.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked. 

“Y/n, please. If you interact with Papa, you will find the answer. That’s all for now. I have to prepare for my trial tomorrow. I just called to check on you.” 

           You bid goodbye to each other before ending the call. You received another phone call from the Senate President’s son. You picked the call…

“Let’s have a drink. The usual place.” He said.

—

        Leon can still hear how loud you were when you snapped at him earlier. He can tell that your meeting with your family did not end well. The way your eyes teared up when you yelled at him, gaining the attention of the people who were in the area at that time. Leon gulped down another glass of whiskey, slightly wincing at how strong the alcohol is as he ran his thumb against your photo, which he secretly took throughout the years. 

         Yes, he has been stalking you. After saving Ashley Graham from an insane cult in Spain, he immediately did some research on you. And there he found out about your success after leaving you in a hard situation in Raccoon City in 1998. At that time, you were a newly licensed prosecutor but you became one of the most influential prosecutors in the Supreme Court as you easily solved and won cases back then. Your father was a Senate President back then and having you beside him is a big asset. With that, your father managed to reach the position of Prime Minister. 

          Every event you need to attend whether it was a national or international, he was there. He camouflaged within the crowd so that you wouldn’t see him or feel his presence. He took a lot of pictures of you, keeping them in a secret room of his house. He was obsessed with you. He even finds himself masturbating in his room with your picture in his hand, looking so elegant in every angle, every outfit you wore, every look you pulled out, it drives him crazy. 

           For his latest mission, which was in China, he brought a dozen of your pictures as his motivation and inspiration. Weird but he did. There are times when he was in a tight situation and went through near-death experiences but he remembers that he needs to come back. For you. He encountered Ada again but this time, he was not her puppy anymore, who would follow her demands and manipulate him. 

“I heard that she’s the new Chief of the CIA aside from being a prosecutor. Seems like your ex-lover has already moved on from you.” Ada smirked as she looked at the photo of you in a black dress, holding a piece of paper while speaking in court. 

“Give it back,” Leon demanded. “What are you even doing here, Ada? Are you going to use me again?” He added and Ada chuckled in response. “What do you think?” 

             What Ada did not expect was Leon’s sudden attack. He disarmed her and took the photo out of her grasp, hissing when it was crumpled slightly. Ada noticed his unusual behavior and smirked. 

“You’re obsessed with her. What is she going to think when you two meet again? What will be her reaction if she meets the one she loved the most but also the one who betrayed her?” Ada asked, trying to provoke Leon.

           Leon got furious when Ada dug up the past. Without hesitation, he pulled out his gun and shot Ada in the shoulder with eyes full of anger and guilt, not for her but for you, who he left just to escape that damn city. The woman looked at him in shock. Never in a million years did she expect that Leon would do this to her. He was different from the one she used to order around. There were also times when Leon almost got down on his knees and worshiped her like a saint. But now, his eyes are filled with the flame of anger. Leon wasn’t hers anymore, but yours even without knowing it. 

         Five months after that mission, he was summoned to the White House by the President and they talked about the assassination attempts you had. His face remained calm but his hands were clenched into fists and his insides were burning in anger. When the President asked him if he could be your bodyguard, he immediately said yes. Your father, the Prime Minister trusted him the moment the President introduced him as a recommendation. That’s how he got into your life again. 

            He prepared a plan on how he was going to win your heart again. He thought it would be easy but it turns out it isn’t. You are colder than he expected. You never look at him the way you used to look at him before. It wasn’t easy to make a conversation with you as you always dismissed him. His top priority is to keep you safe away from assassination attempts you might encounter again in the future while finding a way to see a crack in your armor. 

           He believes that you will give in to him someday. He laid down on his bed, closing his eyes, and imagine how good it feels to be between your legs as he fucks you hard. The way you’d moan loudly or even scream, praising him for making you feel so good. You’d hold onto his shoulders as he pounds against your cunt, tip kissing your cervix that sends you crying. 

          His mind was filled with lewd images of you, wearing tight blouses and pencil skirts, teasing him as you walked. Your curves are perfectly fitted into the skirt and he will pounce on you and rip all of your clothing until you are completely naked under him. You and Leon never made it to take your relationship to the next level because you were just eighteen and in your first year in college back then. You two agreed that you’ll only do it when you are ready or wait until you get married. Although your relationship was a secret, you both gave pure love to each other until shit happens. 

            He believes that your virginity hasn’t been taken yet. For someone like you who focuses on studies and two professions as well as having trust issues, he’s sure that no one hasn’t touched or even kissed you. And the thought of taking your virginity sends him to the edge as he found himself masturbating. 

“Y/n… you feel so damn good. So tight!” He moaned, imagining how tight you are when he pushed his pulsating cock inside your wet, aching, virgin pussy. 

              Your moans ring into his ears as he fucks you. The way you’d ask him to be gentle or be careful of you, sobbing. And the best part of it is when he spilled his warm seeds deep into your cunt. In real life, his cock spurted his juices, staining his hands and abdomen as he trembled from his orgasm, groaning as he let it out until the last drop. 

             No, he did not feel guilty. Why not? He’s going to take you back. Now that he heard from his co-worker that you are bound to marry the Senate President’s son. No, he wouldn’t let that happen. Not even over his dead body. If he needs to go through hell just to win your heart again, he will do it without any hesitation. 

—

         On the other side, you are back in the VIP Room of the bar where you usually go. You are currently with the Senate President’s son. There’s an awkward tension between the two of you. David Carter is sipping on his glass of vodka while you are drinking wine. 

“Your outburst earlier is unexpected,” He chuckled, studying your expression. You glanced at him as he started the conversation. “A lot of women tried to catch my attention but then there was you.” 

“Is that a compliment?” You asked, sipping on your wine and he nodded with a hum in response. 

             David might be quiet and did not have a chance to explain himself during your meeting yesterday but he is one of the most respected and most influential men in politics just like you. He’s a congressman with the potential to reach the highest rank in the country. That’s why your father wants him to be your husband. 

“Yes. I rarely compliment a woman. You know I have a high standard when it comes to women and you passed.” 

“Because this is me.”  You rebutted, rolling your eyes, and smirked. 

              You two are good friends. You went to the same law school and passed the board exams together. When you were elected as the new Chief of the CIA, he was elected as a congressman. Coincidence? He would say no but you would say yes. David understands why you suddenly snapped at your father upon mentioning the arranged marriage. He knows that you have a trauma in love although he doesn’t know who caused you that pain to be so dismissive of love. But deep down, he wished that you would realize that he has hidden feelings towards you. 

“I noticed that you are not with your personal bodyguard today. Leon Kennedy, right?” He asked, causing you to scoff and roll your eyes again. 

“I don’t know. I don’t care though. That guy needs to breathe from my dark presence.” You joked. 

“I’m surprised that he’s not resigning yet when you are so cold and dismissive to him. In my perspective, men who manage to stay despite your bad side are the ones who have true feelings for you.” You paused and glanced at him. 

“I feel this agent knows you better than I know you. For the past three months of him being your bodyguard, I have never seen someone who's more patient than your father. I noticed that you throw your tantrums on him often but he will only look at you and give you your favorite coffee. Your former bodyguards never bring you your coffee without you telling them which one you prefer. But this agent, he will just pop out of nowhere with a cup of coffee you like. Is there something I don’t know about? Do you have connections with each other?” He added. 

“Oh, David. Stop the spectacle of yourself. Agent Kennedy is nothing but only an agent who saved Ashley from Spain and is currently my bodyguard.” You retorted. 

“But a bodyguard wouldn’t act so protective and caring of you. I mean, he’s crossing the line of being a bodyguard and you don’t notice. He’d protect you from the media, people who will tend to cause you discomfort, and bodyguards should keep an eye on his distance to his boss. But he will take off his jacket and put it on your shoulder like a man who cares for his lover.” 

“Enough!” You snarled. 

“You’re guilty because it’s true. A bodyguard shouldn’t look at his boss with stars in his eyes.” David added. 

              What's surprising about him, even though he has secret feelings towards you, it feels like he’s helping you regarding your issue with Leon which you never mentioned to anyone before. 

“Admit it already, Y/n.  You and Agent Kennedy had a thing before.” 

                   You looked at him, speechless. David is a very observant person but he takes that to another level that's beyond your expectations. He raised his eyebrow at you while you shook your head in defeat. 

“You’re right. We used to be lovers.” You admitted. 

—

             Leon was in his apartment across the apartment building you are in. He purchased the unit to keep an eye on you a few years ago. He knows that this is the place where you usually go to ease your mind rather than going to your own home. He brought his own telescope, not to look up in the sky but to stalk you. With his knowledge in hacking, he used to sneak into your apartment unit and set up small cameras that are difficult to see around your place to see what you are doing when you are out of his sight. 

            You just came back from your hang out with David. You are quite tipsy and tired after a long day. Leon watched you from his computer, your every movement is being captured by the  hidden cameras he put around your apartment. You kicked off your heels and put them on the shoe rack before heading straight to your bedroom to have a nice and cool shower. Undressing yourself, Leon watched your naked figure step into the shower. The sound of water running as you hummed a song sent shivers down to his spine. 

            He watched how you touch yourself as you scrub yourself with soap and wash your hair with shampoos. The way the water ran down your body is something he can’t ignore, but craves. Those perfect large breasts, slim waist, and thick thighs, ugh. He badly wants to go there and fuck you already. 

            After thirty minutes of shower and skincare routine, you came out of your bathroom, wearing nothing but your robe and drying your hair with a towel. Leon continued watching you. He observed you as he realized that you were looking out the window, staring at the apartment building where he was currently in. He looked out too and there he found you standing, seemed to be in a deep thought. He studied your face and he believes that you’re unable to see him because his window is tinted. 

         But for you, you can definitely see him. Since Leon has become your bodyguard, you were even more observant of your surroundings. You've always had a feeling that someone is watching from the shadows and the moment you meet him again, your questions have been answered. Earlier, you and David had discussed this without mentioning Leon’s name. 

“You know, obsessive people are usually more on body language, eye contacts, and sometimes, they use metaphorical words. They are waiting for the right time to have their way to their target. I suggest you give this man a little show. I believe you can do this easily. For a seductress like you, I think this is an easy task.” David smirks as he sips on his whiskey.

“What kind of ‘show’ are you talking about?” You asked. 

“A strip show…” 

            You glared at him at the idea he suggested. “But be careful. Don’t let your bodyguard know about this show you are about to pull out or else you’ll receive a severe punishment from your daddy.” He chuckled. 

            He doesn’t know that the obsessive man you are talking about was no one but your bodyguard himself… 

           Sighing, you untie your robe and let it fall to the floor, revealing your perfect naked body. Leon gasped as his eyes widened in surprise about your sudden, unexpected move. You looked like a Greek Goddess that came down on Earth to seduce men and fulfill their lustful needs. You smirked before getting inside, slowly walking, naked. You grabbed your phone and played soothing, yet seductive music. 

             You started dancing and closed your eyes, feeling the rhythm and the melody of the music. Your hair dances in the air as you turn gracefully. Leon watches you, smiling to himself. Seeing you dance like that felt like nostalgia but way different from before. You changed from a sweet teenager into a seductress. Leon smirked, crossing his arms. 

             After a few minutes, you stopped dancing and went to your closet and wore a silk nightgown, gloves, and a coat. You put on your sandals, dried your hair, and put on a light shade of lipstick. You left your apartment, leaving him wondering what the hell just happened. You just gave him a little strip show, unsure if you did it on purpose or was that just some naughty habits he had never seen until now. While Leon heaves out an unsatisfied sigh, you went to the apartment building across yours to confront him already. 

              David is right. He crossed the line of being a bodyguard. Though he is affectionate to you when the two of you are together, you did not expect him to be this obsessive of you. 

“...or just give in to his needs already if you find yourself attracted to the man. Confront him.”

                You remember David gave you another advice earlier before going home. You also thought about this while taking a shower. You are aware that there’s a hidden camera around your house. Yet, you don’t feel creeped out at all as if you know who’s responsible for this. All the dots are connected and the mystery is solved the moment Leon came back and got hired as your bodyguard. The spark you felt towards this obsessive person sparked even more when it comes to Leon. It’s always him. Every question you make about this emotional stuff always leads back to him. 

             The ding of the elevator snapped you back to your senses as the doors opened. You stepped out of the elevator and went to Leon’s apartment unit, Unit 2704. You pressed the doorbell and waited for Leon to open the door. 

            He went to the front door and looked at the peephole. He was surprised to see you standing on his doorstep. He opened the door, you looked at him and he was surprised to see you. 

“I need to talk to you,” You started in a stern tone.

—

To Be Continued...

[justaz]

au where arthur is king but morgana never turns against camelot, merlin helps her with her magic and perhaps morgana kills uther but can you blame her? she’s a woman with hobbies. anyway, once every 25 years (bc traversing the perilous lands is so dangerous and they don’t want to risk the royals too much), the royals from the north/south travel through the perilous lands and all get together in once kingdom for a large feast. the host switches every time, once in mercia then deira then nemeth then bernicia etc etc. one year after arthur becomes king, camelot is to host the feast. most of the southern kingdoms are happy to come, but all the northern kingdoms are tense and a bit cold. arthur isn’t sure why until one of the northern royals who has been biting their tongue for days finally lets him have it and goes on about how uther started the anti-magic rhetoric and spread all this hate. the northern kingdoms prosper and thrive with magic running free while the southern kingdoms are entrenched in chaos, death, and destruction. the northern royal offers arthur the opportunity to come to their kingdom and see magic in all its glory if he leaves behind his father’s opinions and enters their kingdom with the open mindedness of a man born yesterday.

arthur, morgana, merlin, and the knights travel to their kingdom and are a bit wary (bar merlin, morgana, lancelot, and gwaine). a few days pass and arthur and them are coming around to the idea bc magic is not hidden or persecuted here and it is SO peaceful. merlin and morgana are missing constantly bc they are out in the town and experiencing life without the fear of persecution they normally feel. they get invited to a tavern and agree to sneak out later that night to attend. lancelot and gwaine go with them bc merlin told lancelot and gwaine was eavesdropping and was in when merlin said the word “tavern”. turns out the entire place is filled with magic users and magic swirls in the air freely, casually.

arthur runs into elyan, percival, and leon who are also in the process of sneaking out. they tell him that they were going to go see late night magic for funsies. arthur reminds them it’s still treason under camelot law. they tell him that they aren’t in camelot so technically it’s fine. arthur concedes and goes with them. they don’t wander for long before catching sight of a tavern where magic is practically spilling out of the walls. they enter to a huge crowd cheering and clapping. and merlin and morgana dancing on a table. they’re smiling wider than arthur has seen them do in a little over two years.

merlin and morgana are spinning around, holding one another’s arm, and laughing brightly. magical lights swirl around them, glowing in tune with their laughter - attuned to their joy. then they start speaking loudly to one another though it’s also meant for the crowd. they talk about being free and not being hunted. they they start moving the lights around and the cheering grows louder and their eyes are gold-

arthur leans on percival for support. the crowd calls back up to merlin and morgana, they talk of the home merlin and morgana could make in this kingdom, they won’t have to look over their shoulders, they won’t have to hide who they are, they won’t have to hide or lie, they could be truly free. to arthur’s horror, morgana is quick to agree and talks of a life she could build here happily. merlin is hesitant and his jubilant nature starts to wane. he refutes their point by mentioning arthur. morgana shoots back that arthur will never change anything, that he is his fathers son. merlin adamantly denies such a claim. they go back and forth for a bit before lancelot intervenes. fucking lancelot. and, oh, there’s gwaine. right.

arthur is glad and riddled with guilt that despite everything, merlin will remain at his side. arthur is terrified of morgana, his sister, leaving camelot and living in this kingdom hidden behind the perilous lands. the repeal of the magic ban is already being written in his head. he follows merlin out, merlin who grabbed one last drink and is now wandering the dark streets of this foreign kingdom drunk and alone. merlin smiles dopily when arthur finds him and arthur mentions how happy he seems. merlin, already a few drinks in and lost his filter around thirty minutes ago, just links his arm with arthurs and leans on his shoulder

“you make me happy”