Heavenly Sin

oh, to fit him like a glove...

WARNINGS; ooc sukuna, virgin!reader (well... not for long), size kink, BREEDING, vaginal fingering, sukuna only has one dick here cuz i wanted to make it less complicated, COCKWARMING, stomach bulge, degradation, praise, sukuna is a four armed king, overstimulation, mouth-hands, EXCESSIVE CUM

based on this anon's ask! dividers credit; @/cafekitsune

word count; 3k

imagine being sukuna's precious princess of a wife-- whom he spoils and dotes on because its in his interests to do so. like any other woman, youre tiny compared to him, so having you take his cock eventually will be very tedious work, and sukuna will need a lot of patience.

and we all know, sukuna is the most patient man in the world... at least when it means that it'll be worth it for him at the end. and to him, you are worth everything.

he's proud and pleased to be your first... sukuna can't help but feel keen about the idea that he will be the only one ever to have had the pleasure of being so intimate with you.

he watches you intently, as you struggle to take even two of his thick fingers in your tight hole, tearing up and whimpering as he tampers with those delicate spots inside you.

"nngh.. sukuna... that feels so good..." you whimper his name delightfully, it almost makes his enduring patience snap.

outwardly, his face looks calm as he looks down at you with soft lust that takes the form of an almost blank expression.

"does it?" he asks, with a certain playfulness in his voice.

his fingers move a little faster, scissoring you inside and pressing in an upwards manner, where it makes you gasp the most. you're producing so much slick, but your hole is still so tight and unrelenting, clenching around his thick digits even more. sukuna thinks about good it'd feel if his dick was inside instead, and he feels himself aching with desire, twitching and leaking precum from his hidden erection.

...not yet.

he dutifully touches you to your orgasm, and watches with a hitched breath as you tremble on his fingers, walls fluttering against them. your sighs and soft moans reach his ears like nothing else.

his extra hands grope at your breasts, finding solace in them.

"do you think i'm ready yet?" you ask tenderly, after your breath returns to normal.

"... hardly, my love. that was only two of my fingers," sukuna tells you languidly, as he feeds your slick on his digits to the mouth on his stomach.

"only two? oh dear..." you sigh with sorrow, "will i ever be able to take you whole one day?"

he smirks at the question, and leans down into your chest while holding ahold of your hand.

"well of course. i'll make it happen no matter what. i promise." the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.

when it does happen, you best be ready for him to breed you full every night.

however, on some days, the urge gets unbearable, even for himself. he's been saving himself up a little, so he could pour everything inside you when the time comes, but the lust gets overwhelming, clouding his sight and judgement.

one night, you gesture towards the bulge in his pants, with a shaking hand.

"what about you? isn't it painful to always withhold yourself like that?" you ask, wanting for him to feel good as well, instead of just yourself.

sukuna grows silent, sweating bullets as his dick throbs upon your mention of it.

the next minute, he's taking it out and slotting it between your thighs, rubbing up against your slit and seeing how the size compares to your stomach.

the temptation is too great.

not. yet.

this was the whole reason he was avoiding using his cock with your body in the first place - because he was afraid he'd cave in and attempt to deflower you when you weren't ready yet, still too tight for him to squeeze in, causing you pain only.

if it were anyone else, he wouldn't bother... but you're one that he cherishes too much... he wants to work to make the end result even tastier. the moment where he'll finally claim you entirely.

the bed creaks as he thrusts in and out between your thighs, rubbing his twitching dick against your hole oozing with slick, also brushing up onto your clit that's swollen from arousal.

" 'm sorry... i wish... there was more i could do..." you whimper sweetly, squeezing one of his large hands.

"there's no need for that. whatever i can't put inside you now... i'll pump in twice as much, once you're ready for me," sukuna whispers gently, holding your hand back, a groan resounding in the back of his throat.

rewards become so much sweeter after restraint. like how you wouldn't pick and eat an unripe fruit from a tree.

"you're doing plenty enough for me... for now," he tells you breathlessly. he adores the glossy look in your eyes.

his cock continues to glide back and forth, and he feels so hot between your thighs.

"i... i want your tip inside when you cum, please," you say, eyeing his dick with a certain neediness.

"are you sure, love?" he asks, hoping you'll say yes. you nod fervently.

sukuna feels lightheaded at the thought of it, all the while his dick gets more and more sensitive against your thighs... his balls feel so heavy and full, all those times he held himself back coming to catch up on him.

you squeeze your legs around him harder, making him groan, cock pulsing for all it's worth. he thinks about how tightly your walls would clamp around him. the heat from your insides, and your slick covering his shaft. he's close.

he suddenly spreads your legs.

at this stage, he's only barely able to get his tip past your entrance. it's possible when he does it slowly enough. you whine beneath him, doing your best to not go against his arms that are pinning your legs down.

a drop of sweat rolls down the side of his face. sukuna uses an extra hand to stroke the rest of his dick as his tip remains snug inside your puckering hole. when it comes, he gives a choked-off gasp from how good his first-in-a-while release feels.

he has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from burying himself any further.

the ropes of cum seep and trickle into your womb in thick, heavy spurts, and the hotness of it gets you breathing unevenly, being so aroused by this sensation. there's a copious amount. he continues jerking himself off to get every last droplet out, and his own hand can feel the intense twitches of the veins on his erection.

it's not nearly enough to satisfy him, but it's enough to keep him patient.

once his tip pops out from your wet hole again, his spend come out of it in large globs, and sukuna can't help but admire the sight, his dick twitching weakly in his hand.

he abstains from cumming all over again for another few weeks- another few weeks of stretching you out with his fingers, and prepping you to perfection.

when the day finally creeps up, where he believes you're ready to take him whole, sukuna hears and feels his heartbeat in his own ears.

ever so slowly. he's sitting down on the edge of the bed, and he has you lower yourself on his throbbing cock as he's face to face with you, ever so slowly. your body trembles lightly and he feels it on his hands and fingers as they're placed against your hips. sukuna senses your anxiousness that flows from you in large waves.

your hole is so tight, trying to push the intrusion out, but the wetness from your slick helps his cock slip inside easier, and sukuna's breath is kept within the back of his throat as you swallow him up deeper and deeper.

he's sweating. you're sweating. but soon enough, you're sat on his lap completely, having gotten all of him inside you at last. you can barely breathe with how tightly you enclose around him. how his cock is nudged up snugly against your cervix, pushing the literal air out of your lungs. and the way you feel it twitching inside.

sukuna has never been more patient, more self disciplined, more repressed than in this moment. one wrong movement and he feels like he could snap and start thrusting in without concern for you in any moment. no. he shouldn't do that. it would ruin all everything he's done to build you up for this moment.. but your walls keep tauntingly squeezing around him...

"i- i can finally fit all of you inside..." you say with glee, tears on your lashes, but looking very proud of yourself. it snaps him back to sanity, a little bit.

"of course... you were made for me, after all. so perfectly mine, fitting me like a glove," sukuna mumbles, as his bigger tongue licks against your clit, arousing you more so that you could loosen up for him. his praise gets to your head and makes you feel sheepish, wanting to do more to please him. but you don't think you can do that, just yet.

"can we stay like this for a bit, please?"

"that would be...for the best. can't have my wife splitting in half, can i?" sukuna jests rather sinisterly.

"oh, you..." you pout at him. the larger tongue rubs against you more persistently to distract you, and he smirks as it does the trick. you whimper, and your walls pulse gently around him making him groan. your eyes get half lidded, already feeling somewhat exhausted, and you lean your face against the large man's chest.

veins are bulging out of his arms, and one on his forehead. you seem so relaxed, unbeknownst to the fact that he's currently doing everything to keep himself together. you're like a tiny mouse trapped in the claws of a tiger.

sukuna starts to bite and kiss down your neck and shoulder to satiate himself.

few minutes after you've calmed yourself a little, your eyes start wandering down, taking notice of the bump on your stomach, from having him inside you.

"it goes without saying, but you're so big..." you press against it without thinking, and you feel him throb inside you intensely. sukuna grabs your wrist with a growl.

"are you trying to test my patience right now?"

you look at him with wide eyes, from how unusually on edge he is... something about him being all restless makes you feel aroused. you're doing that to him. a man who rarely ever feels. but you've gotten him all sensitive.

" 'm sorry. kiss me?" you ask sweetly, lips curling up in a foxy way.

his gaze softens.

"when you ask me so sweetly... i can't deny you, can i?"

and he leans down to press his lips onto yours, despite seeing the mischief in your eyes. your arms go around his neck, and as he's kissing you, his hands go for your breasts.

you tighten up on his leaking dick, making him moan into your mouth. his grip on your hips squeeze harder, but he doesn't stop kissing you.

you want to make him cum. you want him to lose control from being inside you.

sukuna breaks the kiss with a little choked off heave, when you begin to roll your hips around him slightly.

"you're getting awfully ahead of yourself-"

you cut him off by latching your mouth to the side of his neck, suckling and running your tongue against his skin while your hips keep moving.

he'd call you cute, but it's working. sukuna grits his teeth and his eyes get heavy lidded, dick getting impossibly harder. his heavy breathing adds to your excitement.

"i never knew my wife was such a whore. i'll be sure to return this favour later," sukuna tells you with a low voice, his hands now guiding your hips against him.

you're wordless, as you continue running your lips and tongue up his skin, moving onto his jawline, only giving a whine in response, feeling his tip press into the entrance of your womb.

such lousy movement usually wouldn't be near enough for him, but...

his head lulls back, exposing the way his adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows thickly, getting close... your little kitten thrusts and the way you're tonguing the sensitive area under his jaw...

sukuna's hips jolt into you for the last time.

" 'm cumming-"

his mouth hangs open as he releases - dumping weeks' worth of seed into your cunt. his body jerks against you and you bite into his shoulder.

his cock throbs erotically in your clamping walls, and you milk him effortlessly, and you moan on his neck, while still suckling and tonguing the same area, feeling the hotness of his cum as it thickly pours into you, making your belly swell a bit from it.

sukuna groans as he seeds your womb properly for the first time, two hands on your hips, one against the back of your neck, and the remaining arm wrapped around your waist to keep you still as his dick pulses inside you.

your head is whirring from the tense situation, being creampied so lewdly for the first time, to think that he's released inside, and the feeling of his every breath as he orgasms, is enough to make you feel so exhilarated.

suddenly, he stills.

it makes you a little nervous, so you detach your upper body from him and aim to look at his expression. but before you can make any further movement, you're suddenly thrown onto your back against the soft mattress of the bed in the speed of light. he keeps himself buried in you, making sure to plug you up nicely.

when you meet his eyes after a shocked gasp, you see his darkened expression, his eyebrows furrowed, but his mouth curved up in a toothy, sinister grin.

"you really tested me back there, didn't you?" he rasps, grabbing your face and forcing you to keep your gaze on him.

"i hope you're aware that i'm not letting you get a wink of sleep tonight."

not a word gets out of your mouth, before sukuna pulls his dick back, and slams his hips into you, his thick cock dragging against your tight walls.

your voicebox makes a noise that you never thought was possible, a noise that's mixed with both a moan and a scream.

"oh, fuck..." sukuna mumbles gutturally, beginning to thrust in and out of you the way he's always wanted to. your hands fist the sheets behind your head, and his hands keep your legs spread apart for him, while the other two pinch at your breasts roughly, groping at your flesh so brazenly.

his heavy balls slap against your ass as his hips rut into you, making sure to drive himself in to the hilt, before pulling out to the tip and doing that all over again.

you squeal and mewl under him, eyes watering from pleasure and already getting overstimulated as he fucks you senseless. to think that only a few weeks ago, you were only able to fit two of his fingers. it all feels like a fever dream.

sukuna breathes heavily, his muscles glistening from his own sweat as he indulges in his reward, his reward of you, and your cunt that is finally nice and loose for him, sheathing him so nicely, coating his dick with your slick like the harlot you are. his laboured breaths stutter when your walls pulse around him as you reach your orgasm-- your head tilting back into the mattress.

cock leaking more precum into you, sukuna's eyes become half lidded again as he gets close to his second release.

"you're gonna drive me crazy," he grunts, as his tip reaches your cervix again and again and again.

his thrusts become erratic, and then halts as he busts another thick load into you, making you cry out pitifully.

"fuuck, fuck, fuck...." sukuna shudders, leaning down on his forearms, getting so close that you feel his breath ghosting against your skin, while his other two hands grip onto the sides of your hips. his pecs rub up into your tits and the tongue from his stomach messily laps away at your clit as he empties his balls into you, your pussy seemingly trying to squeeze him dry.

all of his eyes close up as he then kisses you like he's trying to swallow up your tongue. you whimper against his lips, doing your best to reciprocate, struggling to keep up with the pace of this kiss.

he breaks away from your lips.

"c'mon, not good enough. put your tongue into it more," he instructs breathlessly, with somewhat of a disappointed expression. your mind is too hazy from the intense lust but you give a short nod with teary eyes, which makes him smirk before pushing his lips onto you again.

you kiss him back the most you can, and he hums in pleasure, your tongue finally intertwining with his. it distracts you from how full you feel right now, even with only two of his loads in you.

his thrusts slowly start back up again.

"s-sukuna-!" you gasp, breaking the kiss.

"i warned you... it's gonna be a long night," sukuna tells you. he seems to have become more sound of mind after that second orgasm.

"give me more..." he mutters, leaning against the crook of your neck, and licking a stripe up against it, "my precious wife."

your arms wrap around his neck, holding him tight. he grins, and you feel it on your skin.

... eventually when his third load fills you up, he's running his tongue against the shell of your ear, two mouths sucking at each of your nipples, from the way he clasped his palms over your breasts at the last second.

you're trembling beneath him, tears now running down the side of your face, babbling nonsensical words at him.

sukuna leans back to run his third hand through his disheveled hair to slick it up again, and he grins at your state of overstimulation. he feels so good inside you. it was worth waiting and preparing you for so long.

once your orgasm subsides a bit, he finally detaches his mouth-hands away from your tits, making a line of saliva stretch between in the process. then, the mouths disappear. your body relaxes. but sukuna's cock is still inside you.

"you alright, my love?" he asks smugly, looking down at your state of fatigue caused by intense pleasure.

you mumble out something of a 'yes', and he chuckles. his eyes trail down to your now slightly pudgy stomach.

"you're so full with me, my dear wife. haha, it's quite the lovely sight," sukuna tells you softly, pressing his hand down softly against the swell of your tummy. you jolt a little, whining.

"sukuna... too full..."

he leans down closer to your face and wipes the sweat off your forehead, before bringing his lips to the same area gently.

"we can stay like this for a few minutes. rest up. but we're not done yet."

he hasn't even had the chance to sink his teeth into you yet. just a little more. you can do that for him, can't you?

Masterlist

I'm a little shy hence the anon but I need to see you do a virgin sanemi fic or just hear your thoughts on it (but like, he actually loves the person, too, like he wants to marry them and shit) and its his first time.

I'm a sucker for desperate sanemi.

My idea of virgin sanemi having his first time with someone he truly loves is so SOFT.

For starters, He’s the type to talk you through it. Even if it’s his first time, he still has a pretty good idea of what needs to be done. He appreciates it if you talk him through it as well, regardless if it’s your first time or not.

He’ll ask you things like “does this feel right? How about this? Why don’t you show me how you want it, etc etc”

He takes his time, listening attentively to what you want him to do and will try his damn hardest to hold himself back until he knows you’re ready for him

He was initially a bit scared of his first time, he couldn’t wrap his head around how it would go down. He always envisioned it to be very awkward and silent

So when the time actually comes, it’s like a weight lifted off his shoulders. It feels natural, it’s not awkward, it’s exciting even. Even if he makes a mistake he’s not worried about it because it’s you, you know him so well.

When Sanemi actually enters his partner for the first time, he comes very quickly. He’s never experienced something so warm, so soft and inviting. That’s probably the only time you’ll see him get embarrassed.

You assure him it’s fine, you don’t mind one bit. It’s no shock that he’s hard again within minutes of kissing and touching. His first time takes a while, because he’s so enthralled with getting to know your body, you getting to know his, all that fun stuff.

He’ll whisper soft praises, tell you he loves you and adores you and he could never picture his life with anyone else.

He’s always thought of sex as stress relief, lust fueled fun. He didn’t expect it to be so tender and warm, full of love and care. He’s quickly becoming addicted, he never wants it to end. He loves the way you say his name, look at him so needy and dazed.

He builds his stamina pretty quick, moves his hips in a way that feels right and gauges your reaction every thrust. He learns fast what feels good for you and what doesn’t, he listens to your instructions and lets you guide him.

“L-like this?” He chokes out, your body is wrapped around him so tightly it’s nearly dizzying. “Yeah… yeah like—oh fuck— like that… just like that…” you moan softly, fingers gripping the sheets tightly as he slowly drags himself in and out of you.

Hehehehehehehehehheheheheheheheheheh

Can we please take a moment to appreciate this latest chat photo?

I would make Solomon talk to every cat for me. Be my kitty translator I need to know all about that precious baby’s life.

Barbatos, darling, give me those books they look stupid heavy. He calls that paperwork in the chat.

I love them both so much it makes me silly.

my thigh kink cannot handle this rn

Succor

Sanemi x F!Y/N

I'm feeling horny and sad, so here's a horny and sad comfort one-shot I had queued, and I know y’all love some soft Sanemi

CW: hurt/comfort; mentions of death? explicit sexual content, creampie, emotional sex/love-making, crying. MDNI.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

He comes back bruised, beaten, and bloodied, but he comes back alive; and that’s all that matters.

But he comes back a little more broken, and Y/N can see it in his eyes; can see that his head and shoulders hang limp under what is undeniably the crushing press of guilt.

There was a loss of life on this mission. Whether it was one or many does not matter because Sanemi will bear the entirety of its weight, and she will lose another piece of him to this war they wage on behalf of humanity.

So when he shuffles through the shoji door of her estate and drops his head into the crook of her shoulder, she wraps her arms around him and holds him close. She holds him tight, and maybe it’s because she’s trying to keep him together when she knows that he is about to fall apart.

And when his arms encircle her waist and crush him to her, and his lips find the side of her neck as he whispers, I need you, Y/N lets him have her completely.

She lets him tug open the sleeping kimono she wears before undressing himself and allows him to lower her to the unmade futon on her bedroom floor. She lets him kiss her soft and needy, while he wraps his arms around her waist and holds her impossibly tight against him as he slides into her with a soft groan.

Sanemi has lost today, and she knows that he needs to feel her in his arms, to know that she’s safe, and still here and breathing with him until the screams in his head subside.

She locks her legs firmly around his waist to hold him to her as he rocks his hips against hers, slow and steady. Her white-haired lover hardly pulls himself out, instead content to grind up into her core because he needs to feel as close to her as possible. But she cannot help but cry out from the friction that is becoming too much to bear, and she feels Sanemi pick up his pace, his hips moving a little harsher, his length dragging in and out of her more hurriedly, and Y/N clamps her teeth down around his clavicle. She knows that he is doing this now solely for her benefit, but tonight isn’t about her; it’s about him, and he needs to be comforted.

So, with great effort, she slides her hand down the rippled expanse of her lover’s back until she comes to his firm backside and presses down, limiting the push and pull of his hips until he slows back to that needy grind against her.

In her ear, Y/N hears Sanemi’s strangled moan of gratitude as he resumes the languid roll of his groin into hers. Y/N’s hand slides back up to grip his hair, tugging lightly until he removes his face from where it has been buried in her neck so that he can meet her eyes.

The lilac irises she loves more than anything in the world are filled with such exhaustion and grief and love that it causes something inside of her to break, and her eyes become mirrors of his own. Before she knows it, they are both crying because they are both so damn tired of having to sacrifice their comrades for every demon they manage to kill.

But Y/N can do nothing but wrap her hand around the base of his neck and pull him down to kiss her, to swallow the broken sob that bubbles up in his throat as his mouth moves desperately against hers.

“It’s okay,” she whispers against his lips as she breaks away to pant, a familiar heat beginning to coil in her belly as Sanemi continues to grind deliciously into her. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

The muscles in Sanemi’s arms flex as he tightens his vice-like hold around her waist, melding every inch of Y/N’s skin into his own as he rolls his hips harder against her. He buries his face back into the side of her sweat-dampened neck, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin of her sides. Suddenly, Y/N feels herself clench tightly around him and she cries out, her vision going white as she comes apart beneath him, thrashing against the blankets while her thighs spasm around his hips. Her back arches sharply, somehow pressing her harder against him, and Sanemi cries out her name in a broken shout. He comes and she loves him, and she loves him, and she loves him.

He collapses against her, and Y/N thinks she could die happily crushed beneath the full weight of her lover’s body. She almost cries again when he moves to pull out of her, wincing at the empty cold that fills her, leaving her only with the sticky warmth of their mixed pleasure between her thighs.

But Sanemi does not move off her completely. Instead, he shuffles himself down between her legs until his head comes to rest against her stomach, his arms still wrapped around her as they lay on her futon, both still panting as they calm their breath. Y/N’s fingers move on their own to stroke his mop of white hair as it rises and falls against her belly with each breath she takes. He presses sleepy kisses against the soft of her belly and nuzzles his face against her sensitive flesh; and though she can feel his hot seed beginning to ooze out of her, this somehow feels more intimate.

“Stay here with me tonight,” she murmurs, fingers lightly scratching along Sanemi’s scalp as he hums in contentment against her skin. “Let me take care of you.”

Sanemi does not answer her, instead just settles harder against her, and she knows that he won’t argue; he’s feeling far too vulnerable to pull away from her now.

Though the enormity of the night’s casualties still threatens to suffocate him, Sanemi thinks it might be a little easier to breathe now that he’s here, with Y/N warm and soft and alive beneath him.

And so, Sanemi sleeps.

just can't get enough

part 2/series masterlist

Pairing; Rookie!Virgin!Leon S Kennedy x fem reader

Summary; Leon's fresh out of the academy and into the Raccoon City police department-and he's still a virgin. Not only that, but he has almost no idea what what sex even is. Then he meets you, and his body starts wanting things. Or, the first 3 stages of Leon Kennedy learning about his body.

Warnings; 18+ minors dni or I'll set nemesis on u! there's dirty thoughts, lottttttta boners, a wet dream, male masturbation, fantasies, porn watching kinda, cold showers, can't remember what else so!

(a/n) uh basically everyone is ooc v sorry bout that, idek what chris is doing in this, leon is 21 and reader is like 20/21? idk lets say everyone is in their 20's yeah? leon is like. utterly clueless in this. like he knows NOTHING! lets also ignore all the biological stuff and how he would have learned abt this beforehand and that he would prosb have more wet dreams in general if he wasn't doing anything like stfu this is just what happened to fall out of my mind- title is Just Can't Get Enough by Depeche Mode

Word Count; just under 8.7k

stage 1

The moment Leon steps into the station, his eyes land on you. Sitting behind the front desk, chatting to a man and laughing as you play with a pen. It’s like something in him locks onto you just then, like his mind fixates on you and suddenly he can’t see anyone else. 

The man showing him around doesn’t notice Leon’s distraction. Simply talks to him about the water coolers and the break room while Leon nods along, humming in agreement at all the right times as he stares across at you now typing away at your computer. 

He can see you’re not a cop, evidenced by the white blouse, silky satin fabric molding over your skin, and the black pencil skirt hugging your figure. He’s never been one to let himself get distracted by a pretty face or fall at a woman’s feet-there’s a reason he excelled at his training while other students became preoccupied after all, but he finds himself distracted nonetheless. 

It makes something in his gut stir, makes it drop strangely and he suddenly needs to be near you. His fingers twitch ever so slightly, envisioning his grip on your waist, before he blinks and realises you’re staring back at him, amused curiosity painted all over your features. 

His cheeks flush instantly, blooming with heat as he bites his bottom lip embarrassedly and fidgets with his gun holster in nervousness. 

His guide sees him not paying the slightest bit of attention and follows his gaze, but instead (thankfully) assumes Leon must be focused on the cop standing a few feet in front of your desk. He’s the classically handsome type, and Leon realises that this is the cop you were talking to only a couple of minutes ago. 

“Oh Chris? He’s accomplished alright, more arrests than anyone here and the highest records for pretty much anything you can name-best in the shooting range as well, until you showed up I guess-”

Leon feels a burst of pride, still partly feeling like he’s in the academy and trying to be the best, accomplish the most. The pride is quickly replaced with embarrassment when he realises that he also selfishly somehow wants you to see that he’s better than this man. That he’s beaten Chris’ record, and that Leon could be the one standing by your desk as you laugh and smile instead of this big burly officer. 

His cheeks flush even more, glowing red as he tries to figure out what the heck is going on with his body and his mind. He’s never been this enamoured by a pretty face before-he appreciated the beauty of some of his fellow cadets, recognised his vague attraction to some classmates, but he can’t remember a time he was ever struck dumb by the sheer presence of someone. An after effect of being raised in a fairly religious and abstinent environment, he supposes. It still makes him feel odd though, makes him wonder why he feels so hot and nervous all of a sudden. What’s even more baffling is why his stomach keeps flipping when you adjust your bra strap, why his gut feels tight when your skirt rides up ever so slightly as you cross your legs. 

Leon’s guide is still talking about Chris, saying what a man he is and how he treats everyone the same, what a perfect officer and all round good friend and coworker he is. Again, Leon questions himself. Why so bothered?? Why suddenly so annoyed about a man I’ve never met and by all accounts seems to be an upstanding citizen?

His brows furrow confusedly when you smile at Chris and wave as he walks past, and his stomach suddenly doesn’t feel so good. The feeling is baffling, he doesn’t even know you. He hasn’t even met you yet, has only stared at you from across the room-and yet you’ve done something to him. You’ve made something happen to his body, given him an odd feeling that he doesn’t know how to get rid of. One that makes his uniform feel two sizes too small and the station feel humid.

As his guide moves on to the bullpen next door he tries to bury the feeling and ignore whatever is happening with his body. It’s more difficult than he anticipates, especially since he doesn’t actually know what’s happening. 

The heat and the tension eases slightly when you’re out of view, but there’s still that tugging feeling within him where his pulse is oddly loud and present and he just craves your presence. How weird. 

The rest of his day is spent meeting his fellow officers and superiors, eating the cake they bought to welcome him and setting up his things at his new desk. The heaviness within him fades after a little while, and you don’t appear again for a few hours so he relaxes again. Focuses on making some friends and familiarising himself with the computer systems instead of what you did to him. 

Chris and a few guys insist on taking him out at the end of the day, want to take him to the bar down the street and get him drunk and get him laid. 

Leon flushes brightly yet again at their words and wonders if you’ll be joining them. Then he immediately scolds himself for thinking so boldly about a woman he wasn’t even introduced to-he doesn’t even know why he has this urge to meet you so badly, doesn’t even know what the feeling in his lower belly was and why he kept thinking about the colour of your bra strap. Inappropriate, Leon. Get a grip and start being respectful, be good, like you were taught. 

He manages to stick with just a couple of beers when they get to the bar-you didn’t join them and he felt something that he couldn’t tell if it was relief or annoyance-and pretend he’s getting tipsy as the other men get drunk. 

With devoted religious parents, he can truthfully say he never really rebelled or experimented. Many kids would go the opposite way and act out, drink and smoke and steal and fuck-Leon often wonders if he should be proud or possibly ashamed that he didn’t particularly go either way. Simply figured out his parents life wasn’t for him and slowly stopped going to church, focused a little more on the end of his high school days and on getting into the academy. 

The only part that bothers him is his lack of…knowledge. 

It pains him that there’s many facets of regular life that he’s almost completely unaware of. Things most people were taught about in school or by their parents just passed him by, weren’t deemed important or were considered sinful by his church and his parents. He’s somewhat made his peace with drinking, though for a few long years he struggled with the onset of shame that would floor him whenever he picked up a drink. 

He’s never gotten drunk. Only slowly works his way through pints as his companions go hell for leather. He’s never had any desire to smoke or steal either, never had any desire to cloud his mind or dull his senses and committing any kind of crime seems outrageous if you’re trying to become an accomplished member of the police force. 

One thing that still baffles him though? 

Sex. 

Even purely just the logistics of it. 

By the time his parents passed and he’d stopped going to church, he was way past the point where most teens learn about sex. And being raised in an abstinent, premarital-sex-is-a-sin, masturbation-is-a-sin household, well, there weren’t many opportunities to learn about such things. 

Other students weren’t exactly telling him in detail what happens when you have sex either, after all why wouldn’t he know?? 

By the time he got to the academy it seemed odd and embarrassing to ask. 

What would he even say?

What’s sex? How do you have sex? How do you get laid? What happens when you have sex???

No, it ended up being easier to just smile and laugh when his fellow cadets joked about ‘hitting it from the back’ and pretend he was just a little more shy than the rest of them, rather than admitting that he has no fucking clue what they meant.

So when Chris asks if he has his eye on any of the women sitting at the bar, he flounders for a second. Buys some time looking around carefully and smiling while he thinks about how much Chris has drunk, whether he’ll remember much of this in the morning. 

Leon furrows his brow and chuckles a little, placates Chris by drinking some more of his pint and then shaking his head a little. 

Shrugs and says, “Too tired for that Redfield, can’t be bothered with that fuss when I’ve got a nice pint here-”

Knows from experience that he’s most likely to be left alone if he makes a demeaning comment about women rather than dodging the question. It settles uncomfortably in him whenever he does it, but is vastly preferable to telling a bunch of grown men that he’s out of the police academy and has still never had sex. That he doesn’t even really know what it is, only pecked a girl on the lips once when he was about six, that he’s never watched any kind of pornographic content and that he doesn’t even know how to go about touching himself. No, much easier to make a little uncomfortable comment and leave it to the other guys to change the subject. 

The evening doesn’t go on for much longer and before many more drinks are consumed Leon finds himself supporting Chris as they all stumble out of the bar. Leon manages to pour him into a cab and shut the door on him as he rolls around in the backseat and scrabbles drunkenly at the car window. 

With a lot of effort, Chris manages to roll it down and hangs his head out, beckoning Leon closer and wearing a wide grin. 

“Dude-dude you should-you gotta go back in there-you see the-that blonde chick at the-at the bar? Yeah-yeah man you gotta-dudeee you gotta check that shit out! First day at the station man! Gotta-gotta go-gotta get your dick wet, rookie!”

Leon holds back a laugh when the cab starts driving away and ‘rookie’ is dragged out as Chris’s head gets pulled backward, leaving a ‘rookieeeeeeeeee’ echoing around the busy street. 

His walk home is relatively uneventful, just thinking over the events of the day and his new colleagues. It’s an odd feeling, knowing he’s just met men who will depend on him to save their lives at some point, and that he might rely on to save his one day. At least they’re amiable, he thinks, at least they seem like fun and he’s gotten along with them so far. And at least no one realised how naive he is. 

The only spanner in the works was you. 

He still doesn’t know what exactly happened to his body when he saw you, it wasn’t like when he saw criminals or perps and instinctively knew they were no good, and it wasn’t like when he saw men like Chris and thought they’d make suitable friends. It was just…something else. 

-

Leon’s sober again by the time he reaches his apartment, the limited two pints and cold night breeze working fast. 

He methodically goes about his routine, dropping keys into the bowl by the door, towing his shoes into the rack, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, walking to his room and slowly stripping his watch, holster and badge off onto the dresser. 

And still, he thinks of you.

First day at his new job, fresh out the academy, new friends, new apartment-and you’re on his mind. 

He starts his shower and lets it run for a few minutes, holding his hand under it briefly before turning the temperature dial to his preferred. Loosening his tie, his mind wanders back to the way you leaned back in your chair. How he’d seen you stretch your arms a little around the back of your chair as you’d frowned at your computer screen. It makes him frown, the memory making his heart beat a fraction faster just like it had when he’d seen it. 

As he unbuttons his shirt he thinks of yours. The white fabric, sleek satin flowing over your figure and shifting with every slight movement. It occurs to him with a jolt that he took in much more about you than he thought he did at the time. He hadn't realised he’d paid so much attention to the way the sleeves were rolled up and sitting comfortably above your elbows. But now, his gut feels tight again as he remembers the colour of your bra ghosting through your blouse, just barely there but apparently visible enough to do something to him. 

His shirt is thrown into the corner of his bathroom with a little more force than usual, frustration pawing at him as he tries to decipher what he’s feeling. When his fly is undone he pulls his socks off and shucks his trousers and underwear down in one, wincing as the material brushes past his cock. It slaps up against his stomach, obscenely red and sensitive as the tip brushes his abdomen-Leon sucks in a sharp breath and scrapes his hand through his hair at the feeling. 

Breathing out slowly, he steps into his shower and winces again when the water hits him and makes his cock twitch. He ignores it though, just picks up his shampoo and tips his head into the stream of water to rinse his hair thoroughly. 

Unsurprisingly, his mind drifts again. 

He absentmindedly spreads body wash over his torso and under his arms as he thinks about your smile. How you’d appeared as though you were trying to hide it while Chris talked, like you were trying not to let on how amusing he was being. It was a sweet sight, he remembers. Knuckles resting against your jaw as you pressed your lips together and spun a little to each side in your chair. 

Consumed by his memories, Leon doesn’t notice he’s been washing his bicep for a full minute. He just stares at the tiles opposite as his hand scrubs back and forth methodically, yet in his mind his eyes are drifting over your hidden smile and down to your crossed legs. 

The image of your supple skin below the hem of your skirt is crystal clear in his mind, and his cock jumps again as he relives the moment the material rode up when you moved. 

He sucks in another breath at the sensation and his hands drift down his stomach to his lower belly, scratching gently along his happy trail. Leon thinks back to the one and only time he was ever remotely educated about…relations, and turns in the shower to rinse away the suds from his body. 

It was a short affair, an encounter which pretty much consisted of being told that he’d meet a nice young woman, marry, and conceive beautiful babies. He was told that he and his wife would have sex the night they married, that that would be his first time unless he wished to commit a great sin. There was a brief comment-more an allusion than anything-about using his…privates, before they laughed and said “Well, you’ll know what to do when it happens!” 

The sentiment hasn’t been particularly helpful, Leon thinks as he remembers the countless comments he’s just had to smile and laugh at, nod and brush off because he doesn’t know what people are talking about. All the times he’s opted out from drinking games, trivial ‘never have I ever’ rounds because he’s done nothing. He’d chosen to stay away from encounters like that after he’d sat through a game where he’d just looked confusedly around at people putting fingers down for things like ‘choking’ and ‘bareback’. 

What the hell either of those things had to do with sex, he’d never found out. 

Leon had only survived that evening by bowing out early, excusing himself with the lie of too much alcohol and the pretence of ‘don’t kiss and tell’. Which is how he survived most of his academy years, actually-sadly. 

Leon blinks and pulls out of his memories. Tipping his head down, he tries to focus on the rivulets of water streaming over his cheeks and running off his jaw, rather than the pulse he feels in his member. His hands lift momentarily and pause a few inches away from his stomach, trembling ever so slightly as he debates what to do. 

The urge to put his hands on himself has never been very strong with him, his body has never ached this much before-it’s always been slightly bothersome when this happens but relatively easy to ignore. Besides, he didn’t even know what to do; much simpler to just wait out whatever the feeling was in his gut. 

Tonight though, he can just feel so much. It feels as though he’s on fire, like his heart is beating in every part of his body and like something is going to happen. 

After what feels like a painfully prolonged amount of time-though is only a few seconds-his hands fall to his hips, rubbing nervously over bone and still shaking as he thinks of your fingers sliding under the strap of your bra. 

When he’d seen it you’d been pulling it back up your shoulder, but before Leon knows it his mind conjures up the image of you pulling it down, down over your arm and slipping your hand from it. 

With a gasp he jerks his hands away and grabs the temperature dial, wrenching it to the coldest it can manage. He immediately flinches at the freezing water before closing his eyes and letting it wash over him, knowing this always helps him feel normal again. Gets rid of the strange throbbing that pulses through his body when he wakes up like this sometimes. 

When he steps out of the shower and towels himself off, there’s an oddly bereft feeling in him as though his body is craving something. Leon swallows down the uncomfortable feeling and tugs some briefs on before going about his nightly routine and sliding under his covers. 

He doesn’t sleep for hours, tossing and turning under the covers while his skin feels sensitive and uncomfortable, like he’s not wearing it right, like his body can’t sort itself out. He slips into unconsciousness in the early hours of the morning, mind exhausted and body strung out-you still manage to throw a wrench into his mind yet again, making him think of your hidden smile right before he falls under the blanket of sleep. 

-

stage 2

Leon wakes up with a moan on his lips, spilling out as his thighs flex and his hands fist in his sheets. 

His eyes shoot open immediately and he gasps at the onslaught of sensations he can feel. Abdomen tight, gut twisting, hips jerking and toes curling. The most prominent thing he feels, however, is the tip of his cock caught between his stomach and the waistband of his briefs. It’s red and angry, swollen with need and almost weeping onto his abdomen. 

Leon plunges a hand into his hair and uses the other to rip the covers off of his body-they’re soaked in sweat anyway. His briefs are grey and he suddenly wishes he’d put on black ones so he couldn’t see the small wet patch of something growing by the top. His hands tremble like they did in the shower the night before, and as he goes to move his leg he whimpers, feeling the material chafe along his sensitive shaft. 

It hits him a little just then, makes his eyes well up as he tries to reconcile with the fact that he doesn’t even know what’s happening to his own body, the fact that he’s never felt so much, how it’s too much and not enough and his body craves more but he’s so scared of what will happen if he moves again. The sensation borders on painful, body so strung out every movement feels a thousand times more. 

With a muffled sob he pushes his head back into his pillow and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to stay as still as he can until it all just goes away-until his body stops throbbing. 

It’s a painful few minutes, hiccups escaping every so often as his hips reflexively move and he has to bite his lip to stop more sobs spilling out, but eventually his body calms somewhat, he softens a little and can manage to slide off his bed and stumble to his bathroom. He turns on his shower and sets it to freezing immediately before leaning on the counter and braving a look at himself in the mirror above his sink. 

The reflection makes him flinch a little. There’s a splotchy red flush spreading across his chest and up his neck, painting his cheeks alarmingly. Eyes red as well, pink rimmed and slightly bloodshot with heavy waterlines still-some of his hair sticks up in odd directions but Leon’s gaze is stuck to his abdomen. 

It floors him for a minute as he stares at himself, lips parted in surprise at his own appearance. 

There’s a dark splotch on the waistband of his grey briefs, uncomfortably wet against the tip of his cock. His eyes are glued to the space just above though. A dribble of something decorates his skin, pearly white and slipping slowly down to seep into his briefs. 

He swallows uncomfortably as he thinks back to his teenage years, back to the few rare mornings where he woke up almost like this-skin painted with something he doesn’t know and mind hazy with some sort of endorphin rush. 

He’d never asked anyone about what it was, never googled and tried never to think about it again. 

Was it meant to happen? Was it normal? Should it happen more often? Never? Did all guys do it? Was it needed? Did it happen during sex? 

Questions he figured he’d never get the answer to. 

His cock is still half hard and pressing weightily against the fabric of his underwear, but he ignores it in favour of slowly lifting his hand toward his stomach. Involuntarily his eyes narrow a little, squinting so he doesn’t have to watch clearly what he’s doing. Tentatively, he presses one fingertip into the puddle on his skin and instantly retracts it. 

His gaze hesitantly drops down, as though he thinks his reflection is lying to him somehow. Vaguely, his mind registers that his hand is trembling yet again, but he can’t see anything apart from the liquid collected on his index finger. 

Pressing his lips together, he turns the tap on and runs the water over his finger, washing away the evidence of his morning. 

He peels his briefs off delicately, wincing all the while at his sensitivity and throwing them in his hamper before stepping into his cold shower. He starts shivering as soon as the water hits him, and briefly wonders if this is how it’ll be from now on. If something happened when he met you and now he won’t be able to control his body. It seems as though that’s the way it’s going. 

It’s a somewhat pitiful couple of minutes, just standing there in the freezing water as he waits for his body to relax fully. After a short while he turns the temperature up-but still just stands there. Eyes closed, head hanging down and hands resting on the tiles in front of him. 

-

He doesn’t see you today.

A wave of relief washes over him when you’re not on the front desk as he walks in, followed immediately by a wave of curiosity and anxiousness. 

Are you just not at your desk? Are you not in the building at all? Are you sick? Weirded out by Leon staring at you yesterday?? Oh god what if it was him-

He does his best to banish all thoughts about you as he sits down at his desk and grins at Chris-who’s slumped back in his chair, sunglasses propped crookedly onto his face and snoring lightly. Hiding his smile, Leon opens and slams a desk drawer shut, watching Chris bolt upright and wince as his glasses topple off his nose and clatter to the floor. 

“Rough night?”

For a second all he receives is a groan in response before Chris looks his way, frowning and squinting at him. 

“How-you’re not dead. Why aren’t you dead like the rest of us rookie? Traitor-” 

His smile falters for a split second as he remembers last night and this morning's showers, before shrugging at him and grinning again. 

“First day on the job? Thought it might be best not to kill myself with alcohol poisoning. You do you though, it was pretty impressive to be fair Redfield-”

Chris just groans again, takes a full minute to reach down and pick up his sunglasses before sighing and slipping them back on-upside down. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever rookie-might have liver failure but I got a girls number so ain’t it worth it-”

He falls back asleep in his chair almost immediately after he finished speaking and Leon finds himself glad, relieved that he doesn’t get asked about any women or numbers or getting laid or more things he doesn’t have the first clue about. 

An uneventful few hours go by, but he meets Jill and gets given a shit ton of paperwork so he can ‘get used to the computers’. The man who gives him the stacks of files looks disappointedly at the evidently hungover officers dotted around the room before he tells Leon this, who he takes one more look at Chris (who’s elbow slips off the arm of his chair and makes his head thwack down onto the wood, before he gives up and falls asleep there instead) and chooses to just take the papers. 

About an hour later he’s made some decent progress, but gets jerked out of his focused trance when he hears a yelled ‘MORNING CHRIS!’ come from the opposite end of the room. 

The pen he’s using jerks up out of his hand onto the floor and his face takes less than two seconds to flush bright red again. 

You. 

You again. 

You making his cheeks flare with heat, heart stutter and gut tighten. What have you done to me?

He can’t help staring as you stroll into the room, evidently stifling a laugh at Chris’ dishevelled state and holding a stack of files in your arms. You’re wearing the skirt and the blouse again, but the bra Leon can ever so slightly see behind the white fabric is a different colour to yesterday. 

He wishes he hadn’t seen that because his pulse picks up the instant that registers in his mind. It gets worse still when you stop to talk to Chris and rest the files on your hip gently, leaning to one side slightly and accentuating your figure. 

Leon swallows before looking back down at his papers. But the outline of your body is printed on his eyes like he’s looked at a light bulb for too long and he can’t resist looking back up at you. 

His heartbeat quickens dangerously and his uniform feels hot all of a sudden when you look up, catching his eye and smiling as you make your way to his desk. With a thump, you drop your files onto the stack next to him. 

Leon hesitates when lifting his face to yours because he just knows how bright his cheeks are, he can feel the heat and is sure you’re about to be set alight from it. After a few seconds he does so-and finds himself struck dumb yet again by the sight of you smiling. Except this time his jaw goes a little slack because you’re smiling at him. Not at Chris, not at Jill, not anyone else. You’re smiling directly at him, just for him. Not a polite society smile either-a genuine warm expression that makes him realise how dry his lips are. His tongue darts out to wet them as he tries to think of what to say to you, but then you’re bending and picking up the pen he’d accidentally thrown into the air when you walked in. 

Still silent, he reaches to take it when you hold it out to him-smiling all the while god help him-and his fingers brush yours. Unexpectedly, his cock twitches behind his zipper and he has to work quickly to school his features. 

And then you offer him a soft ‘nice to meet you, Leon, let me know if you need anything-’ before walking back the way you came and leaving him sweating with a dry throat, red cheeks and uncomfortable tightness in his uniform trousers. 

“Pretty ain’t she?”

Chris’ words shock him out of his trance and make him splutter a little as he tries to think of an answer. 

He struggles somewhat, because his mind is distracted by the fact that yes, that’s what it is-he thinks you’re pretty. Really pretty, some kind of pretty he hasn’t seen before. 

With the other cadets and students he’d spent the last few years with, he appreciated their looks sometimes, could recognise their beauty but was never exactly attracted to them per se. Never really had a desire to act on anything or try something new-and now, for what he thinks is the first time in memory, he finds you really pretty and wants to do something about it. What that something is, he’s unsure. Unfortunate, yet not surprising. Sadly. 

He gives Chris a vague ‘mhm’ in response as he looks back down at his desk, attempting to focus back on his paperwork but failing.

“Don’t give me that rookie, know you were thinking it. We’ve all tried-”

That makes his head shoot up again, eyes widening as he looks at Chris (unsuccessfully) holding back a smirk. His heart speeds up slightly and he thinks quickly-does that mean you’re with someone? Is another officer appreciating your pretty smiles and seeing them more than Leon ever will?

“Everyone’s-what? You’ve all what?”

Chris laughs at that, bold and loud as he slips his sunglasses up onto the top of his head.

“Oh don’t look all innocent and wide eyed like you weren’t thinking of it mate-but yeah everyone has-”

He sighs as he finishes speaking before turning his head and muttering a little, “Everyone says that dude on the desk over there got closest but it was me I’m tellin ya-”

It makes Leon’s stomach flip uncomfortably, the thought of you and Chris together. He suddenly feels a little sick, when he imagines you sending sweet smiles to him, perching on Chris’ desk and letting him see more than just ghost of your bra through your shirt-

Leon blinks himself out of his spiral, gasping quietly with his second unsettling realisation of the morning. That he wants to see more of you, see what others haven’t. 

He curses himself when he sees that his hands are trembling again, overwhelmed by the connections his mind makes-that he knows you need to be attracted to someone to have sex with them, and you need to be somewhat nude. That he is attracted to you and wants to see more of your body. His leg jogs under his desk a little, bumping against the wood every so often.

He’s felt pent up before, felt like he was about to burst with energy and like he just had to do something-but he’s never felt like this before. It confuses him somewhat, the heady mix between that and of the overwhelming need he felt this morning. Shakily, he picks up his pen again and prays he won’t see you for the rest of the day, in case he loses the rest of his sanity at one glimpse of your smile.

-

Days pass almost the same way.

He wakes up sweating and gasping, unable to move because he doesn’t know what will happen. He takes a cold shower, finds himself unable to look at his own reflection. He goes to work and can’t decide whether he wants to watch you work all day or if he hopes he won’t see you at all. 

And each day ends with him going back to his apartment and wishing he spent more time with you, that he talked to you and saw your smile and the blouse you wear and the face you make when Chris tells a bad joke. You’ve consumed so much of him, make him think of you when he sees certain characters on TV, make him picture the way you frown at your computer when he picks up his laptop.

After a couple of weeks of this, of feeling his entire body pulse and heat with the smallest comment from you, he wakes in the middle of the night.

A quick look to his left tells him it’s just gone three in the morning and he wonders why he even woke at all. His neighbours aren’t playing loud music as they have an annoying habit of doing, there’s no motorbikes outside, not an intruder or even something falling over in his flat. He furrows his brow and moves to slide out from under his covers.

He barely makes it a centimetre before a whimper is forced out of him though, suddenly all too aware of the sticky mess saturating his briefs. His head is thrown back against his pillows as he gasps, letting his hips jerk up instinctively before forcing them back down to the bed.

Leon snakes a hand under the covers and over his stomach, but he hesitates when he reaches his abdomen. His skin is wet and coated in something, much like the morning after he met you-but it’s everywhere, covering his toned muscle and soaking his underwear. He pulls the sheets back and winces at the sight, wet patch covering the front of his briefs and stomach painted with a glistening sheen of something, smeared ropes all over his skin.

Absentmindedly, he registers the cloud of pleasure that hangs over his thoughts, the immense satisfaction flowing through his body. The fabric of his underwear is plastered wetly to the outline of his shaft and he reaches down again to brush his fingers over it. He accidentally traces the thick vein on the underside of his member and whimpers again, thighs trembling at the slightest bit of stimulation. 

He remembers his teen years and the few times this happened to him. He’d just brushed it off back then, taken a shower and forgotten all about it. But now he can’t. 

He can’t because all he can think of is that he’s pretty sure he was dreaming of you just before he woke up.

In his mind is the vague image of you without your blouse, lying back on his bed and teasing the cups of your bra with your fingertips. The thought makes his cock twitch and his breath hitches as the tip brushes the sodden material. His mouth drops open as he gently pulls the material away and tugs it down to his thighs, and he thinks of the pleasure he felt when he woke, unable to stop lowering his hand and rubbing his thumb over the sensitive head of his dick.

Something in his gut tightens and he lets out a broken moan when his member twitches at his touch, the tip leaking onto his skin again and adding to the mess he’s already made. 

He stumbles into his bathroom and almost falls into a cold shower, not knowing what to do apart from this. 

It feels a little like the only respite he has these days, the only thing that has managed to return his body to normal over the past couple of weeks. 

He doesn’t sleep very well for the next few hours, wondering what the next day will bring when he sees you.

-

stage 3

Leon feels his heart beat faster the moment he steps inside the station, but you’re not behind your desk. 

He reluctantly acknowledges the pang of disappointment he feels and shakes his head lightly as he walks to his desk, trying to rid himself of the distraction you inevitably cause. When he sits down he must have a frown on his face because Chris takes one look at him and tells him you had to accompany the captain somewhere-Leon feigns disinterest as he clears his throat and logs into his computer for the morning, but his fellow officer just raises his eyebrows and turns back to his own files. 

Given that you’re not there, Leon makes it through the rest of the work day without any trouble. Except for one incident. 

Unsurprisingly, it involves sex. 

It happens when he’s in the break room, using the battered coffee machine and soon wishing it worked a whole lot quicker. But it refuses to listen to his silent pleas and churns slowly, makes Leon wait for his drink while he listens to an officer-he might have been called Dave?-talk about what he did on his weekend. 

Well, more like who he did. 

Leon opens the cupboard above him, hiding his head from the officers, but his hand hesitates when he goes to grab a coffee cup. 

“Man you should’ve seen this girl-pornstar tits I’m tellin’ you-”

His eyes widen as he slowly grabs a mug. 

“No fuckin way don’t believe you-you’re always makin shit up like this-”

“I’m serious this time, god it was insane-coulda stared at those tits all day and I’d die a happy man-”

“You just stared at her? Little guy fall short did he?”

Leon closes the cupboard and sees the first guy whacking his friend on the bicep, and turns the words over in his mind, trying to figure out what they mean. 

“Course I fucked her, man-can’t see a mouth and an ass like that and be expected to not stick my dick in one of ‘em-”

Her mouth?!? Why would that happen what does her mouth have to do with it?

The other officer throws his head back, laughing loudly. 

“Aight aight, she fuck like a pornstar too then?”

Maybe this would be easier to follow if I’d seen porn. Should I? Oh god am I going to watch porn?!?

“Fuck man you bet your ass she did-you ever back shot a girl? When I pul-” 

“Oh gross man I don’t need to know about your jizz get the fuck outta here-”

They both walk out of the break room laughing and muttering to each other while Leon stands at the counter, slowly stirring his coffee. 

As he walks back to his desk, he feels a little as though he’s in some sort of daze. His mind keeps overturning what he heard, just confusedly cycling through ‘backshot’ ‘pornstar tits’ ‘little guy fall short’ and ‘jizz’. He didn’t think he’d heard so many things he was unaware the meaning of since he’d been in school. 

And it’s not like he has a teacher to ask about why he’d put his dick in someone’s mouth.

But. 

There is porn. 

His cheeks heat a little as thinks about it, and he realises he’s been staring at the wall for a few minutes. Blinking, he comes back to himself and tries to carry on with his paperwork. 

The rest of the day isn’t very productive though, as he spends it all distracted by the thought that he’s made up his mind. He’s going to watch porn, for the first time ever, tonight. 

-

When he gets home he’s jittery, like he drank too much coffee-even though he only made the one cup and then was so distracted he forgot to drink it. 

He’s torn by the urge to grab his laptop and finally learn what he should have years ago, or to try and relax first. Make dinner, have a shower, watch some tv and then…experiment. 

Leon makes dinner first and settles onto his couch to watch some tv, but unsurprisingly finds himself unable to focus for very long. His eyes keep darting to the side, flicking to where his laptop lays on the sofa beside him. A few minutes after he finishes eating, he swears quietly and gives in, grabs his laptop and tugs it onto his lap. 

He watches the tv for a few seconds before steeling himself and opening up the browser. 

Slowly, he types,

porn

And presses enter. 

He squints at his screen slightly to dampen whatever he’s about to see, and hesitantly scrolls through the page of search results. Sighing and going back to the top, he settles further into his sofa as he reads. 

pornhub

The mouse hovers over the first result. 

That’s what guys use, right?? I swear I’ve heard people mention pornhub?

With a click, he’s suddenly taken to a black background and dozens of thumbnails for various videos. 

As soon as he looks at the first one, he jerks his hands away from the keyboard and feels his eyes widen, cheeks flushing once again as he takes in the image of a woman with her mouth wide open, tongue hanging out and just the tip of a man’s cock in view, laying on the flat of it. Leon’s cock throbs painfully in his sweats, aching and pulsing as he stares at his screen. 

Clearing his throat, he tentatively looks along to the next thumbnail-an image of a woman lying back on a bed, legs spread open and exposing herself. His cock twitches as he looks at the space between her thighs, hardening rapidly as he realises that whatever coated his stomach that morning is…leaking out of her. 

A pop up flashes up on the screen, asking if he wants like minded singles in his area (anna is only 3 miles away and wants to do sex with you!) and it jerks Leon out of his trance. With a start, he shuts his laptop and shoves it onto the coffee table in front of him, leaning back and breathing heavily. His sweatpants are tented, bulge showing prominently and a small patch is dark grey, as though a droplet of something has landed on it-or soaked into it. 

He reaches a hand down, knowing exactly what’s going to happen. As expected, the moment his fingers brush over his bulge, his hips buck up and he tries to stifle the whimper that crawls up his throat. 

Dropping his hand back to the couch, he grabs his laptop again and opens it, keeping his gaze squarely focused on the top of the screen where he presses the back arrow to return to the search bar-and away from the images that make him tremble and throb. 

He decides it might be easier to take it a little slower, to actually learn some things before plunging into the deep end. Which is why he finds himself typing ‘how to touch-’. He quickly backspaces and deletes it though, scoffing at the idea that he’d have to look at some sort of sex-ed for kids/teenagers. 

Then he frowns, and realises he probably actually knows less than the average teenager. Sighing again, he types. 

how to touch myself

Wincing at his ignorance and the phrasing of his search, he presses enter and tucks a leg under himself to scroll comfortably. 

Most articles he finds are for people with vaginas and he attempts to ignore the constant ache in his member every time he reads something about a woman pleasuring herself. After a few minutes of browsing, he finds an article that seems to have what he needs. 

It’s rather clinical to begin with, but he supposes it’s what he needs, given that he barely even knows what happened this morning let alone how to touch himself when he’s conscious. 

From the first few paragraphs, he learns about orgasms and that he ‘came’ while he was asleep-also called a wet dream! He learns that it happens to teenagers a decent amount and ‘is nothing to be ashamed of!’ which immediately tells him that most people are embarrassed, and therefore makes him feel ashamed anyway. 

He learns all the clinical technical words for things, feeling slightly overwhelmed by all of it-and he also finds out about some slang and more casual words for things. He finally reads what the word ‘jizz’ means, and thinks back to earlier in the day, trying to figure out what the men were talking about. 

Clearing his mind once more, he looks back to his screen and keeps reading-next the article details how different people find different things erotic, how he might like to be touched in different places, he might not like to be touched at all, he might like someone else to touch him. It’s rather impressive, the way his mind only takes a split second to picture you. He thinks of when you handed him his pen and your fingers brushed his, the brief sensation of your skin against his and he decides just then, thinks firmly that yes, yes he does want to be touched by someone else. He really wants to be touched by someone, and he really wants it to be you. 

His mind drifts for a minute, eyes almost glazed over as he wonders what it would be like. It’s so fucking intense already when he wakes up already hard, or when he trails his fingers over himself, and he can barely even imagine what it might be like with your hands instead of his. Your smile directed at him as your fingers trace over the sensitive veins on his cock. With a quick glance down, he sees the wet patch on his sweatpants has grown slightly bigger, and he turns back to his laptop. 

After a few more minutes reading, he also learns that it will likely feel better lubricated with…something. The article suggests lube, spit, lotion-or, if he’s with a partner, their bodily fluids. Leon grimaces at that, before thinking back to the first articles he flicked through and remembering what will happen if he’s with a woman and, somehow, manages to arouse them. Even though he’s alone, he lets out a small ‘oh’ and hunches further over his laptop, still attempting to ignore how hard he is. 

Reading on, he learns a little about how to use his hands on himself, how sensitive his balls can be, that he can play with his nipples if he likes-by the time he reaches the part about trying anal his head is swimming from the overload of knowledge and he closes the tab, leaning back into the cushions and staring across at the tv. It’s playing some cooking show, but he wouldn’t be able to focus on the chef chopping spring onions if he had a gun to his head. 

By now, the way his cock is throbbing is almost unbearable, constantly jumping behind the material of his sweats and leaking obscenely from the tip-something he now knows is called precum, as a matter of fact. 

Slowly, but with a racing heart, he places his laptop on the table and leans back once more, fisting one hand in a cushion next to him. His left hand tugs at the strings on his sweats and he undoes the bow, slipping his fingertips into the waistband before pausing and thinking it’ll feel better with his right hand. 

He swaps the cushion over to have something to grip, and pushes his right hand into his trousers. 

The second he touches his member he lets out a moan, long and loud and he trails off into a gasp. Slightly clumsily, he wraps his hand around his shaft and whimpers out a quiet ‘fuck’ at the intense feeling-hastily, his hips buck up to fuck himself into his grip. 

The wave of pleasure he felt this morning rushes up at him again and he pulls his hand from his sweatpants, panting and looking down to where the flushed head of his cock peeks out under the waistband. Precum beads at the tip and he watches intently as it drips onto his abdomen, gradually sliding into the v of his hips. He briefly thinks back to the article, to how it said it might feel better with something to help him along, and he raises his right hand a little, spits in his palm and pushes it back into his sweats. 

The feeling makes him whimper and jerk again, thighs trembling and eyes squeezing shut as he spreads his spit along his cock. He flattens his hand out and slides his palm along the underside of his shaft, feeling the veins against his skin and how the heel of his thumb brushes against his weeping tip every so often. 

It barely takes twenty seconds before he’s letting out a stream of moans, whiny ‘oh oh oh’s echoing around his apartment, accompanied by the lewd squelchy noise of his spit and precum mixing. 

It almost hurts, how much he feels right now, the onslaught of pleasure that’s suddenly hitting him after all this time-and the fact that he knows now, he knows what to do and what’s going to happen, he knows he’s trying to make himself come, that god willing one day someone will do this to him, that he might be able to come inside someone-

Fleetingly, his mind pictures the woman from the second thumbnail with her legs open and come dripping out of her-but it’s you suddenly. Your face contorted in pleasure and your legs he’s seen peeking out from under your skirt, and it’s his come, his warm seed spilling from you because he’s just fucked you, just had his cock inside you and it just happens, his eyes fly open and his lips part as he moans obscenely loud. It echoes off his walls, high pitched and whiny again as he feels his cock throb, ropes of come splattering across his stomach and over his fingers. 

Without thinking he moves his hand again, sliding his palm wetly over his length once more before gasping and pulling it away, unused to the stimulation. 

Leon lays there, panting, for a few long minutes before he can even bring himself to lift his head up. What he sees makes his eyes widen-his abdomen and his hand and the top of his sweats coated in his own come, just like this morning but he made it happen this time. He touched himself for the first time, touched his dick and and knew what he was doing and knew what he was making happen, and to the thought of you no less. 

A burst of shame fills him as he remembers how he thought of you, before he tries to banish it and take things one at a time. First-a shower is in order. 

He stumbles when he pushes himself off the sofa, stabilising himself on the arm of it as he winces at the material chafing his length. With slow steps he manages to get to his bathroom and into the shower, smiling a little when he realises he won’t have to have cold showers every morning and evening now-he can just…touch himself. He knows how to now, and, quite frankly, he already feels a little desperate for the rush of pleasure it gave him again. 

When he gets out and towels himself off a few minutes later he’s still smiling somewhat, until he remembers he’ll see you tomorrow. He’s going to have to work in the same space as you for hours and hours, all while knowing the pleasure he can so easily give himself to the thought of you. 

It’s gonna be a long day, that’s for sure.

part 2

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maybe in another universe

warm-bodied | leon k.

genre(s): erotica, romance warning(s): female reader, soft dom leon, choking, clothed petting, mentions of bodily fluids, language, light dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, size kink, brief somnophilia, dry humping, stream of consciousness, lowercase, not proofread, written while under the influence now playing: some days - stella jang

he prefers you like this.

without the knit of your brows or the upturn of your lips. defenses buried beneath the gravel, your voice soft with sleep. no sharp quips, no biting comebacks. just your lids dancing and your mouth parting slightly with each exhale.

he likes it best when he can get away with stroking your cheek with the flat of his nails as you dream of pretty things. when he can root his nose into the curve of your shoulder and inhale.

you smell like earth and heady things, and you shift the slightest bit in his arms, nuzzling further into the safety of his body. cling to the fabric of his shirt like a grabby child, and the notion makes his lips—and dick—twitch.

the rain taps a steady rhythm on your makeshift shelter—a tarp he fashioned between two trees to shield you from the elements. 

you needed the rest, your bones shaky with fatigue. leon insisted after you reconvened following a split-up to gather intel. after you stumbled into his back when he took the lead to resume your search for the president’s daughter. wasn’t like you to be so out of sorts. so naturally, being the good partner leon was, he herded you to safety—or some semblance of it.

you allowed him to hold you beneath the veil of night. to ward off the insistent chill because you were soaked to the bone, your clothes sticking to you like a second skin. and he was warm and so very big, and…

well, he was just helping out his partner, right? definitely not swelling with something feral at the sight of your body wrapped snug in his coat and you burrowing into his armpit like a scared little bunny.

besides, it isn’t often he has you like this. in the clench of his arms, his fingers meandering along the skin of your neck. dragging further downward towards the divot between your collarbones, grazing over your breasts. further still, on an unhurried excursion to your nipples pebbling beneath your shirt. from the cold or his touch, he isn’t sure. but the sight of them makes him bite his lip as he chokes on a groan.

you stir when you feel him. clear the phlegm from your throat, your lids still heavy with sleep.

“leon,” you warn, voice rivaled by the patter of the rain overhead.

“i know.” humor hangs in the depths of his voice, interweaved with something sensual. something disarming. “just tryna help keep you warm, is all.”

snort. “we don’t have time for the nonsense.” 

leon scoffs. feigns hurt, his ministrations never faltering. sure, danger looms between each crackle of a tree branch. between every hoot of an owl in the distance, every whisper of wind, but—

a well-placed nipple pinch invokes a bitten-off growl from your throat. and he smiles at that, sighing hot and open-mouthed against the space behind your ear.

“we’ll make time, sweetheart.”

a promise clings to the air like the oaky aroma of petrichor, and he doesn’t miss how your thighs clench at the rumble of his voice. how you arch the slightest bit, pushing your breasts into the calluses of his hands, still feigning sleepiness. give him the go-ahead to touch you more, and he’s every bit of smug now as he kneads, plucks, and flicks his fingernails over your pretty, pretty nipples.

and, oh, how he wants to taste them; roll them over the bumps and grooves of his tongue, between his teeth. but given the angle and the timing, he’ll have to settle for this.

“gonna take care of you,” he huffs into the delicate hairs at the nape of your neck. hands dip a little further down, coasting over the ripples of your rib cage, massaging the meat of your belly, melding to your hipbones. “promise.”

you shudder, growing a little boneless, legs instinctively parting. and leon heeds the invitation, his nails raking up and down the inner sanctum of your thighs, all honey slow and teasing. and he intentionally nudges your meaty outer labia with the knuckles of his thumbs, and they’re swelling and fat in your pants, pulsating with each touch. he coos alongside you, infatuated by the beautiful noises he invokes upon touching you there.

you shiver again, a cute whimper easing past your lips. the sound shoots straight to his cock, painfully hard.

“want me here?” he croons. you nod all too quickly, earning a chuckle from him.

leon needs no further goading, taking to massaging your pussy through your pants with a cupped palm and artful fingers. revels in those breathy little sounds leaving your mouth and how your head falls back against his shoulder. and he’s there, mouthing over your carotid, sinking his teeth into whatever flesh he can reach.

his name drifts from your lips in a gentle cadence—in a dulcet supplication that makes his head spin, and he unconsciously grinds in tandem with the steady undulation of your hips. mind filled only with you you you. with getting you off. with tasting the briny tang of your cum. with being buried deep in the searing clench of your pussy, and the notion makes him nip at your shoulder to mask the pathetic little whimper burbling in his throat.

“right there?” he dotes at a particular buck of your hips, and your thigh craters beneath his fingers as he squeezes to anchor you down, keeping your legs spread so he can play at the seam of your pussy. “keep ‘em open for me, baby. yeah, just like that. gooood girl.”

he’s breathless now, sweat beading on his temple, because watching your resolve wither away has him leaking pre-spend and rutting into the cleft of your ass like a beast in heat. you burn hot as he shackles your neck with his hand, unraveling you little by little, your cunt so very wet and warm and weeping into his palm. and his hold on your throat tightens until he feels your pulse beat violently against the lines of his palm and your breath hitches.

“oh fuck, leon! so—so close! i’m gonna…i’m gonna—”

“yeah? gonna cum, baby? want you to. so bad. fuck. please.”

like a frayed bowstring stretched taut beyond its limits, you snap. topple as quickly as leon built you up, your slick saturating his fingers through the thickness of your cargo pants. and fuck fuck fuck, it’s embarrassing how quickly he cums after, drawn to his peak by the erratic stutter of your hips and that sinful tongue of yours curling around his name. he soaks his pants like an overzealous teen, fighting against his labored breaths and the urge to push you onto your back to fuck his cum into you.

but as the dust settles and the rainfall filters back in through the static of his mind, you look at him with a lazy smile. with a quirk to your brow, your gaze all-knowing and swimming with exhaustion.

“well, that’s one way to keep a girl warm.”

to which leon snorts, tugging you back into his arms, lips pursed and tender on the crown of your head.

masterlist

Drunk!Satoru thoughts ~ 18+

Drunk Satoru would get wasted off of half a spiked seltzer. This bitch would be white girl wasted, sobbing in the corner of the room asking you if you’d still love him if he was a worm. He’s gonna be a whiny little bitch and so utterly sensitive. Even you caressing his arm will have him whimpering and whining.

You could ask drunk Satoru to sit on your lap… no better yet STRADDLE your lap and he’s doing it with enthusiasm. Doesn’t mater that he’s taller and bigger than you, he will put all of his weight on you and nearly crush you with the force of his love.

Sloppy make outs with drunk Satoru will always lead to sloppy fucking. Sloppy because he’s too far gone to actually be on top in any capacity, he’s relying on you to ride his dick till you’re done and will not be able to assist you in any capacity.

Sloppy because you’re equally as drunk and cannot bounce on his lap without his assistance after a while. So it turns into this wet mess of just half heartedly bouncing while primarily grinding your hip down on his.

Drunk Satoru is practically sobbing as you ride his dick, not stopping even after he has cum because he’s still fucking hard and you want to milk him for everything he’s worth. Either that or you’ll pass out first.