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dixmondcat · 9 months

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Within Session .Part Six.

Holy shit, happy December and Merry Christmas y'all! I'm so happy to finally post another chapter of Within Session. Yes, its been a while but starting a new job is stressful. Thankfully, I figured how to manage time. This part is extremely long, more than 5k. words. I'm proud of myself! This fanfic consists of Yandere!Leon Kennedy. I intend for this fic to progressively become disturbing and fucked up with each chapter. While the first few chapters will be tamed, expect the following in this series:

~Stalking, Kidnapping, Forced Breeding, Degradation, NonCon, Gang Banging, Forced Pregnancy, Somnophilia, Blackmail, Manipulation, Abuse, Pet Names, Obsessive Behavior (Duh), Torture, Constraints, Mentions of Blood & Gore, Mental Degradation, Toxic Relationship, Sexual Abuse, Masturbation, Drugged & Drunk Sex, Loss of Virginity, Forced Penetration…

Also you will be retconned (Too bad 😏): Female Reader, 24 Years old and from Texas 💝 (yeehaw)

This story was purely written with RE 4 (Remake) Leon in mind. So no puppy dog Leon from RE2 or DILF Leon from later games & movies. The story takes place several months after the events of RE4. Yay, you’re in 2004!

I plan to make this series long and fleshed out, but I promise what you want will hit you like a train~🚂

This story does contain +18 content (NSFW) 🔞 If you’re a minor, please go read a real book or something, don’t cry to me when your mom finds your shit.

Summary

As an on sight therapist for STRATCOM in Nebraska, you’re tasked with providing quality therapy for US military personnel and government agents. After working at the headquarters for 6 months, Hunnigan recommends you to a notable government agent, Leon Kennedy, who is in need of therapy. After a number of sessions with you, Leon notices a substantial stability in his sanity yet is threatened when you are offered a position back home, closer to your family and friends. Your choice doesn’t sit well with one particular client, who can’t fathom you out of your role as his therapist. Leon has found a means of keeping his precious therapist and realizes you are the key to his permanent solace. You were obviously destined to be his in some form. Why dream of him letting you go?

A\N: I was heavily inspired by Satoshi Kon’s Perfect Blue 💙, ExploreVenus’s Something Permanent and Guardian Angel by NexysWorld. We're finally getting into the nitty gritty of the story. Reminder that if you're not comfortable with male obsession and stalking, this is not for you. But if you're fucked up like me, please enjoy this! This is a really long chapter, hope y'all like it. 😉 Please comment on what how you feel about this chapter, I'm a whore for feedback. Hate it? Comment. Love it? Comment, por favor.

This is the longest chapter with 5k words, pretty much twice than I typically write for a chapter. Keep this in mind if you are wondering why, it seems longer.

Hope y'all enjoy the sixth part! More to come 💝~ Anisssa أنيسة

Here is Part One , Part Two, Part Three, Part Four and Part Five of Within Session

Blue Monday

For several months, the disdain for the winter season was prominent as the days were still short of daylight. Along with the absence of familiar faces from family and friends from home, winter blues roused thoughts of returning to home. Even with the presence of Mateo and his buddies around at the house, it never satiated your homesickness. The transition into this New Year was strenuous, yet you continued the routine of attending to clients at the USSSTRATCOM headquarters during the week, the occasional LAN parties hosted on weekends with the dudes, and friend dates with Hunnigan. Still, you could not deny there were urges to pull out your suitcase and call quits on the government position. Home was not here in Nebraska.

Now in the middle of February, the extensive drive home seemed to kindle symptoms of burnout. Upon opening the entrance door to your apartment, the dead silence prompted your eyes to glance around the living room for the presence of your roommate, Mateo. For once you arrived home before him. With every step further into your living room, the floor boards seemed to creak under pressure. Your body immediately gravitates towards the couch, slumping on the cushions to sprawl out in exhaustion. In one hand, you gripped your purse while the other held a bouquet of flowers.

Until the last session earlier today, it did not dawn on you that today was Valentine's Day. Leon, of all people, arrived at session with a bouquet of roses in his possession with his usual smuggish smirk. The gesture caught you off guard that you simply accepted the bouquet without protest. This questionable offering from him was unpredicted, a moment of vulnerability impelling you to accidentally violate a simple policy between client and therapist.

A groan emits from your mouth, decisively kicking off the heels to note how sore your feet were. No doubt the roses in your hand were beautiful, but they were from a client on this particular holiday. You grunt in disapproval, instead eliciting to assume he gifted the roses for his appreciation for your dedication to him as his therapist. Yes, those thoughts brought peace of mind. But you then realized the price tag sticker on the bottom of the bouquet.

“Holy fuck! Who spends $80 on a bouquet of roses? Well shit, now I’ll feel guilty if I toss them out… Dammit, Leon…”

Leon Kennedy, a client you have been providing treatment with for the last three months since November. Along with his substantial progress in his intervention goals, you had the opportunity to further learn about the peculiar character that is Leon. Every session he never failed to crack jokes on whim or comment snide remarks, his attempt to speak off topic. Beside his efforts to conceal his discomfort with humor, there was also an underlying suspicion that Leon was withholding details regarding certain discussions. He avoids topics through escape by immediately steering the conversation. Every instance that Leon avoids a subject, you take note of it, knowing somehow you would eventually touch base on it.

With the bouquet of roses in your hand, you notice several detached rose petals on the couch cushion. A pang of guilt coursed in your chest, registering the maltreatment of the flowers in your grasp. Despite the aching pain in your feet, you stand from the couch to walk to the kitchen in search of a vase. You were no flower arranger but the glass vase you found complimented the red of the petals. Next session you would have to bestow some gratitude to Leon, since the guy deserves some appreciation for the gift. Maybe the man really was trying to express his reverence, Valentine’s Day was not all about romance, right?

In the moment of admiring the roses you placed in the glass vase, you realize that it has been a while since you have received something like this from anyone. While you let out a gentle huff, your hands reach out to rearrange several roses until you were appeased with the arrangement. Then the abrupt ringing of your phone from your pocket interrupted your trance from the vase of roses, a phone number unbeknownst to you displayed on the small screen of the flip phone.

‘It’s an area code from Texas… is it from San Antonio, Dallas, or Austin? But who calls late on a Monday night?’ You decipher, debating the thought to answer the call knowing the area code was from one of the major metroplex cities.

This time you sigh, adjusting your throat to answer in a pleasant tone. “Uh, hello?” You greet hesitantly, holding the pink flip phone to your ear.

A gentle feminine voice responds with “Hello…” along with your full name.

The utterance of your first and last name from the unknown voice nearly startles you to the core, immediately furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“This is her… Uh, who are you?” You ask, slight concern obvious in your question. Was this call a scam?

On the other end of the line, the female voice chuckles lightly into the phone,”Sorry to call this late, I am from a counseling program partnered with a foster care facility based here in Austin. We are looking for new recruits with the right credentials. I came across your application from a year ago and I am curious if you would still be interested in doing an interview and perhaps be interested in joining our team? From your application, I can see your address is in Corpus Christi.”

At that moment you seat yourself on a chair in the dining room, glancing at the adorned vase of roses on the dining room table. This was an unmistakable opportunity that manifested itself in one phone call, but you could not allow yourself to become excited so soon.

“Unfortunately, I am not living in Texas at the moment. I actually took a therapist position here in Omaha, Nebraska. I won’t be able to schedule an interview, I apologize,” You express in a solemn tone, assuming this would end the conversation.

“Oh, if you don’t mind…. We can do an interview right now over the phone.” The lady mentions, followed by silence on her end.

You direct your eyes at a digital clock in the distance, noticing the time was a little past 9PM, which meant no minutes were being wasted.

“Sure, why not…” You respond, guessing this opportunity was unprecedented to simply dismiss.

For the next 30 minutes, you were asked a series of questions, mostly about your experience and qualities. In your efforts, you answer professionally while you slug against the dinning chair in exhaustion. Your hand became cramped as you gripped the flip phone to your ear. Every time you glimpse back to the vase of roses, you notice several petals shed from the roses. With one rose petal, you twindle it between your fingers as you speak to the woman over the phone.

“I’m impressed with you, I really think you would be a great addition to our team. I’d like to offer a full time position, with a Monday through Friday schedule. Instead of hourly, you will be paid a salary with benefits. If you need help with moving, we can pay your first few months of rent wherever you decide to move in Austin. How does that sound?” The lady expresses, seemingly to be entirely impressed with you.

For a moment, you were hesitant as the offer seemed too good to be true. “When can I start?” You then ask, feeling the sweat in your palm as you grip the phone to your ear.

“Since you said you’re out living in Nebraska, I can give you a month… March 14th on a Monday, and we will run a background check and proof that you can work in the US. Nothing major, it’s usually quick. For any certifications you need, we will pay for them…” The woman explains, her voice cheery with every word.

By the end of her explanation, your body involuntarily begins to shake. Several thoughts coursed in your mind yet the most prominent thought was obvious… you were finally returning home.

“I look forward to starting,” You respond, matching her voice of enthusiasm.

“That is great to hear… Well, I will let you enjoy the rest of your night. Please call this number again if you have any questions or updates,” She infers.

“Thank you, have a great night!” You add before clamping the flip phone shut, ending the call.

In that moment, your body slumps in the chair while a long exhale of breath escapes your mouth. Every part of your body was jittery to the point it was difficult to contain despite the laborious deep breaths exercises and your hands crossing to squeeze your upper arms. No doubt, the ticket home seemed to magically appear on your lap. Maybe the universe had finally answered your prayer, and within a month you would travel back home.

Tears formed, your eyes evidently becoming glossy while you were seated slumped on the dining room chair. With tears flowing down your face, a part of you felt ridiculous for becoming this emotional.

The front door knob jiggle, the sound of keys from the other side of the door interrupting your mini crying session. Once the door opens, you whip your body to direct your attention to Mateo standing there in the entrance. The evidence of crying was still conspicuous as your cheeks were entirely wet and your eyes were puffy.

“Ah shit, did I come home at a bad time?” Mateo mutters, cautiously setting his black bag on the floor by the entrance after he shuts and locks the front door.

“No, you little jackass. I just got a job offer back home… I start in a month,” You respond in a sincere tone, cracking a subtle smile to Mateo.

Mateo appeared taken back, now walking into a plethora of confounding information. With a few steps into the dinning room, he sits beside you at the dining table. He notices the vase of roses placed on the center of the table yet does not comment on them for now.

“Are you moving because of me?” Mateo questions, a pout forming on his face. He was honestly a child at times.

“Huh? No, absolutely not because of you… I just think I have overstayed here in Nebraska, and need to return home so I can be near family,” You explain, your tone heartfelt as you glance at Mateo with a grin.

Mateo deeply exhales, his brown eyes narrowing at the sight of you, “I guess I'll allow you to leave… on the condition you visit,” He expresses smugly.

A soft chuckle emits from your mouth, nodding in agreement to his prerequisite,” Deal…But I plan on moving out in three weeks. Tomorrow, I am putting in my two weeks resignation letter. Some of my clients are not going to be happy.”

To your verdict, Mateo expresses a solemn smile before his hand points to the roses you arranged in the vase earlier,” So… who bought you these?” He asks with an eyebrow raised.

“I’ll let you guess, but the answer is obvious,” You respond bluntly.

“Leon?” He answers immediately with his lips curved in a grin.

“Mhmm..” You hum, scratching the side of your hair with a finger. “He arrived at session with them, and pretty much shoved them in my arms. Never been so caught off guard,” You then comment.

With a sudden snap of your fingers, you jolt up to stand before scurrying across the room to your bag, “Oh shit, I almost forgot, he also gave me a card. I haven’t opened it yet.” Within a moment, your hand digs inside your beg to then reveal a red envelope once you pull it out. By holding the red envelope in hand, you return to seat yourself at the dining room table beside Mateo, ripping the side of the envelope with your hand. A blank expression instantly appears on your face once you slide out the Valentine’s card. By opening it, you notice a gift card and Leon’s writing inside the card, “Mateo… He gave me a gift card to Chili's… Dude, look what this says…’To the spiciest therapist I know’... What the fuck does that mean?!” You glance at Mateo, biting your lip from amusement and disturbance simultaneously.

Mateo only burst out laughing, snatching the card from your hand to read Leon’s writing closely, “Damn girl, what you be doing to him during your sessions, huh?” Mateo questions you in an accusatory tone with a hint of humor behind it.

“Absolutely nothing… Goodnight!” You huff, snatching the card from his grasp back into your possession before stomping off to your bedroom.

By next morning, you were able to have written a two weeks notice letter explaining your resignation with a clear date that you would be concluding your tenure with USSTRATCOM as a therapist officially on Tuesday, March 1st. The following days were heart-wrenching, revealing to clients that you would be concluding your position as their therapist and only a few sessions with them remained. Several clients congratulated your new position while others simply were in denial of your departure, or expressed their grief to you.

Friday eventually arrived with the anticipation of preparing the last client with the news of your resignation. Instead of being seated at your desk, you waited patiently for the arrival of Leon on one of the two chairs that you would usually sit during the session. Every minute that passed, you contemplated on how to deliver that in a few weeks, you would no longer be his therapist. Last Monday, he gifted flowers and a gift card to you, clearly there was a modicum of admiration from him. Would he congratulate the advancement in your career or distress over your inevitable departure like other clients? You could not rationalize with yourself on why you were nervous to tell him.

Right at 5PM, you heard the knock on the door of your office. Leon was always on time for his sessions when he was not sent away on missions. For his division, you still did not know the kind of work he did but only that he was revered as a top dog in his position.

Upon hearing his steps, your eyes instantly gravitate to his ocean eyes piercing back at you as he treads further inside the office. Leon seats himself on the chair across from you, an obvious grin plastered on his face. No words were exchanged, but your thoughts spiraled,’Shit, should I tell him now?’ Your thoughts debated but you shook your head on the notion.

“Leon, how has it been these past few days?” You then ask, mustering a soft smile on your lips.

“Great, since I knew I’ll be seeing you today,”Leon smooths, leaning comfortably back into his chair.

Your lips falter, steering to not encourage this behavior from your client. “Leon, how many times have I repeated to you to respect the boundaries between us?” You remind him, followed by a soft sigh. This was his mindless flirting that recently sprung up in sessions.

“Too many times, miss. I apologize,” Leon chuckles, averting his eyes to the side at the floor. Ultimately, those icy eyes return their gaze to you even though his face was directed away. “So Miss, how were those roses I gave you last time?” He questions you, his eyebrow quirks as he awaits your answer.

“They were nice, I was able to place them in a vase. Thank you… But understand that as a therapist, I could lose my license for accepting gifts, okay?” You remark, your tone firm with blank expression.

His tongue clicks along with a small nod, “Oh no, I can’t have that happen. I- We need you here…” Leon mentions, his gaze studying your face.

As you examine the features of his face while he spoke, you realize how exhaustive his features appeared. Before he could utter another word regarding gifts, you interfere,”Hey, how are you sleeping as of late these past few nights?”

In that moment, his grin deflates in an almost surprised expression. Leon adjusted his throat, shifting in the chair.“I’m experiencing nightmares…” Leon admits, blushes blooming on his cheeks.

You expected him to retort with humor or downplay his exhaustion. But Leon was actually opening himself to you about his nightmares. This was an opportunity too good to let pass by. By extending your arm to your desk, your hand grabs a notebook and pen. Every detail that he verbalizes, you need written down.

With your pen awaiting on the lines on the paper, your eyes return to his face, the bleak blue in his eyes not as bright as they usually are. “Describe what you remember from your dreams, Leon.”

“Burning bodies, blood caked on my skin that did not belong to me, and things I can’t even explain…” He shifts in his seat again, his voice feeble.

His narrative could not paint a picture for you, the few details not being enough, but only suggested he endured an incident so horrifying. On paper, your pen scribbled down the only two details he described: burning bodies and blood on skin.

“Leon, can you recall an incident you might have seen or experienced?” You ask, bringing the top of the pen to your lips.

After a moment, his head shook,” No ma’am, I simply have watched Dawn of the Dead too many times,” He chuckled, seemingly forcing a smirk.

If you could roll your eyes at this moment, you would. An internal scream echoed in your head, and you nearly wanted to slap your forehead with the notebook in your hand. When he finally opens up about something regarding his trauma, he fucking does this bullshit… again.

Instead of proceeding in your usual passive tone, you adjust your voice to become stern,”Leon, do you honestly need this service?”

He was clearly offended at the change in tone in your voice, his eyes narrowing at you. An expression you never expected to witness him guise, yet you kept your composure. “Yes, I do,” He merely responded, his voice consisting of no humor.

“Then please help me, help you. These past few months you have progressed, but you would honestly be further in your treatment if you allow yourself to open up. I’m not expecting you to explain everything in one session, but understand if you were a bit more cooperative, I can guide you more efficiently through your trauma. I’m not a therapist that wants you to be in therapy forever…” You breathe out along with a huff.

The words seem to echo into the room as the room falls into silence, Leon just sitting there with no words to exchange. Nonetheless, every word spoken from your lips was valid. But on the back of your mind, time was inching closer for you to reveal the news.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, miss. I know I’m your favorite client,” Leon retorts, that same smug expression on his face.

This session was going nowhere, 30 minutes somehow wasted. Time was working against you, so it would be easier to rip the band aid off the wound, right?

“There was never a competition between my clients in the first place. I regard and care for all my clients equally, Leon,” You retort, directly staring at his eyes. “Also…” Your voice proceeds along with an adjustment in your throat. At this point, it can not be helped, he deserved to know. “Uh, to simplify it… in a few weeks I will no longer be working with USSTRATCOM, I’m moving back to Texas. But don’t worry, I already notified the next therapist on your case on your goals and what we worked on.”

The heart in your chest was beating, feeling anxiety ridden, but nonetheless you revealed the big announcement. Then that same tense quiet air settled into the office once more, Leon had a blank stare directed at your face. Those eyes of his blinked several times before he mustered a warm smile. “That’s very sudden news, but congratulations,” He breathed, his fist clenching on his thighs.

While an exhale of air escapes your nose, the ache in your chest seems to ease away. This time, you permit yourself to smile in response to the commendation from Leon. “I really appreciate the congratulations from you… But we will still conduct session the same until I leave. So tell me…what is an incident that may be a considerable source that prompts your nightmares, Leon?”

“Wait-” He utters, tilting his head as his mouth tries to form words. “Can you at least explain why you’re leaving? I know three months is not a long time, but I have made so much progress with you…”

His voice betrays him, nearly breaking yet Leon sustains a smile on his face. Subtle taps on the floor peak your attention, your eyes glancing down to notice his foot tapping on the floor.

“Sure, I can explain… Um, I have close family in Texas, and my next job allows me to be closer to them,” You answer simply, keeping your voice calm.

You see Leon nod in his head in acceptance as he glances down to his hands resting on his lap. “I see… just… you don’t seem like a Texas gal..” He chuckles, bringing his gaze back to you.

A laugh emits from your mouth, not expecting Leon to return to his whits suddenly. “If you expected me to wear a big cowboy hat and speak with a twang, I might just punch you,” You suggest with an empty threat, raising a fist in his direction while your other hand holds the notebook to your lap.

Leon lets out a fake gasp while appearing offended. “Hmm, sounds like someone is in need of anger management.”

“Oh, you think you’re funny, huh?” You retort, pursing your lips at his remark.

“I think? Oh, honey, I am funny…”

‘Honey?’ This little endearing nickname riled your core, perceiving it as condescending, nonetheless you opt to let this slide. With a small sigh, your eyes peer to the clock on the wall, silently thanking the universe that only 5 minutes of the session remained.

“Alright comedian…” You speak, leaning over the armrest of the chair to grab the clipboard from your desk, “It’s that time you give your signature, and that will be all for today’s session.”

Leon chuckled once you extended the clipboard to him before he wrote his grand signature: ‘Leon Kennedy’ on the signature line. He extended it back to you, except his expression appeared solemn.

“So you really are leaving Nebraska? Quitting USSTRATCOM to move back to Texas?” He inquires, no hint of humor in his voice.

Your head nods, only responding with a hum in agreement.

“Well I’m happy for you… I will see you next week,” He expresses, giving a brief smile before he leaves the office.

“Bye Leon!” You call out, proceeding to shut and lock the office door after he leaves.

An exasperated groan iterates into the empty room, letting out that strenuous hold of breath out your chest. While the complicated part of informing all the clients was settled, now the actual moving process was the next course of action. At that moment, you reluctantly retreat to your desk, knowing that the legal documents, session notes, and insurance signature sheets need to be submitted to your supervisor before you can leave for home. It was Friday, all you wanted to do was drink to your heart's content, play video games, and pass out on the couch. Typical Friday night shit.

In time, all necessary documents were submitted to your supervisor. The familiar brunt whirl of flurries stung the skin of your cheeks once you step outside the building, being welcomed into the dark parking lot. Every step along the parking lot was careful while you walked towards your car, seeing the red among the white.

Even inside the car, your body shivered, desperate to warm up. The inconvenience of the winter night sky entirely made it difficult to see in your car, but you were able to insert the car key into the ignition. With anticipation for warm air, your wrist turns the key forward.

Kkkkkkk.

The sound of the car struggling to start only furrowed your eyebrows in response.

Naturally, you turn the key one more time. Two times. Three times. With a disgruntled groan, you continue to turn the key, your foot persistently pressing the gas pedal.

“No no no no. Baby don’t do this to me now!”

With every desperate turn of the key, the car only responded with jerks before dying completely. Hot visible breaths huffed from your mouth, that bitter cold was already piercing through the fabric of your clothes. Your hand pulls out the key from the ignition and your foot ceases from stepping on the gas pedal. That sense of anxiety crept into your chest once more at the awareness you were oblivious to the malfunction in your car.

Your hand decides to reach down to pull down a small lever, hearing the familiar pop of the hood. While hesitant, you then retrieve your flashlight from the middle console before returning to the brunt winter weather as you exit the driver’s seat. Once the hood is propped up on the stand, you click the flashlight to instantly illuminate the engine under the hood. The problem was then apparent, the light revealing ripped spark plunges that were supposed to be connected to the engine.

“Oh, what the fuck…” The words seem to let out, unsure how this happened to your car.

Crunches of ice behind you alleviated you from deep thought, prompting you to immediately whirl your body to the source of sound. Light from the flashlight directs to a broad figure, startling you to where you nearly scream. Your hand points the flashlight up and you recognize the familiar sandy blonde hair.

“Leon?” You mutter into the air, your eyes widening at his sudden appearance. “What are you doing here?” You then ask, pointing the flashlight down from his face out of courtesy.

“I heard a car struggling to start, so I thought I would check it out…” He responds, proceeding to walk to the open hood of your car. Leon glances down to the flashlight in your hand, gesturing you to hand it to him. “Here,” You whisper, extending the flashlight to him. While he holds the flashlight, he directs it down to the engine, “Damn, your spark plugs are damaged,” He remarks, his demeanor confirming your earlier speculation.

“They were recently replaced, this shouldn’t have happened,” You retort, your tone obviously confused.

“Well they look like they've been bitten… Maybe a small animal searching for warmth crawled inside and decided to chew them out,” Leon suggested, returning his attention to you.

Leon’s revelation was plausible but when you return your glance to the spark plugs, the damage appeared like a clean cut as if they were physically cut by something. Regardless of how they were damaged, your current situation ensured that you were stranded in the parking lot of your job. The road conditions were horrible, piled with snow, and you honestly did not know how long a tow truck would get there.

While you contemplate your options, you hear Leon adjust his throat. “If you like, I could drive you home. It’s cold and dark now, there’s not much you can do," he suggests.

Spark plugs were easy to install, but to travel to a nearby auto shop was complicated enough in this weather. Your head immediately shook at his offer, shifting your attention to his face. “Thanks for the offer, Leon, but I have to decline. I’m still your t-“

“Therapist. I know. Miss, it is dark and freezing. A tow truck would take an hour… I can’t leave you out here,” Leon interjects, his tone stern to prove a point. “Come on, let me take you home. It wouldn’t be an issue for me at all,” He continues, proceeding to let down the hood of your car.

Deep down, you knew his proposal would violate ethical codes as a therapist, but his persistence swayed your verdict. Your body was visibly shaking while you stood there, glancing around the parking lot to ensure no one was watching. “Fine, but straight to my house, Leon.” You sternly express, going to quickly retrieve your purse before returning to his side.

You hear chuckles from Leon while you follow him to a black SUV, obviously a government vehicle. “Perks of being an agent,” Leon mentions, his voice laced with humor. It honestly seemed he was enjoying this.

By sitting in the passenger seat, you experience the loving warmth of heat from the vents once Leon turns on the car. A pang of guilt coursed at the realization you were leaving your car behind at the parking lot. “So you drive a Nissan Z? Didn’t think you’re into cars like that, especially with turbo,” Leon strikes a conversation, driving off the premises of the USSTRATCOM parking lot.

“Ah, it was a parting gift from my dad. She is practically a family member…” You say, blushing a bit.

“There’s no shame in that, it’s actually interesting you’re into cars. But I could definitely swing by in the morning and I could personally switch out the spark plugs,” Leon offers, shifting his attention to you in the passenger seat.

“If replacing the spark plugs is no hassle, then I am okay with it…”

Leon grins, ecstatic that you conceded to his assistance instead of blatantly rejecting his offer. For a moment, he remained quiet as he drove on the snowy desolate streets before eventually realizing he did not know your address. “Ah shit, I got ahead of myself. Tell me where to drive from here to get to your home,” Leon nervously chuckles.

In response, you nod with an assuring smile, ”That’s fine…”

Other than Leon’s rock music playing on the stereo, the car ride became quiet as the exchange of words died down. The moments you only spoke were when you provided directions to your house. Soon the sight of the familiar Victorian house was in view, although you notice a line of cars parked in the driveway and street, along with an absurd amount of people hanging around the house. Once Leon gradually slowed infront of the house, he turned his head to you sitting in the passenger seat.

“This is your house?” He asks, turning down the volume of his rock music.

A sheepish smile appeared on your lips, nodding to Leon,”Yeah, I guess my roommate decided to throw a party.”

Leon returns his attention to the amount of men chilling on the front porch, drinking beers or smoking cigarettes despite the freezing air. You see Leon narrow his eyes at the scene yet smirks when he glances back to you. “Looks fun… but I will see you in the morning, right? Is 9AM alright?”

Your head nods frantically, presenting a pleased smile on your lips,”Uhh, yeah. It sounds good,” You reply, somehow almost forgetting about your car stranded at the parking lot of your job. At that moment, you open the passenger car door before slipping onto the pavement of the road. “See you tomorrow, Leon! And thank you for taking me home…”

Leon seemed content, before waving off to you, "I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night,” He responds. Once you shut the passenger door, he drives off, leaving you to watch him as you stand there in the middle of the road. A nagging intuition provoked an uneasiness into your body regarding this night. Nonetheless, you decided to ignore your paranoia since there is a party that required your attendance because even God knew you deserved it after this whole week.

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dixmondcat · 9 months

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dixmondcat · 9 months

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so done with tumblr. see u all in two minutes

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dixmondcat · 10 months

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dixmondcat · 10 months

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this time it can be different

it has to

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dixmondcat · 10 months

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i hate you ai art i hate you "unalive" i hate you youtube premium i hate you twitter 8$ checkmark i hate you nfts i hate you therapy app advertisements i hate you non-chronological timelines i hate you instagram reels i hate you subtle tiktok filters that cant be turned off i hate you family bloggers i hate you ads on true crime episodes i hate you facebook i hate you vr glasses on chickens i hate you dystopian social media

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dixmondcat · 10 months

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“When you make someone fall in love with the darkest parts of you, there’s nothing you can do that will scare them away. They will be yours forever because they already love all the fucked up bits and pieces of you.”

H.D. Carlton Haunting Adeline

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dixmondcat · 10 months

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Rainbow Lit Christmas Trees

I miss the days of vintage Nike tee shirts on my dad. The days when he had hair. I would wake up early on Christmas morning, and go downstairs to see a Rainbow lit Christmas tree. There was a certain smell and feel to the clean crisp air.

The days where I would look out from my childhood bedroom window, just so I could take in the sun, noting the way each individual ray peered in. How the light looked when it bled through at that angle, is a still shot burned into my present mind.

And I hold that very light fondly. I'll never let it go.

Hindsight luxuries All things I can never get back; or rather go back to. Moving forward, all these colors are incapable of being emulated. Because the world I live in now is a dull one. Sure, it's an aesthetically pleasing one. But was it worth losing all the color? It's just now that I realize, I've been tricked.

When I moved out, I wanted all white walls. I thought it was clean. A contrast to my busy mind. The opposite of my childhood.

Well I finally obtained what I aspired for my whole life.

Yet, I find myself wanting to go back to those Rainbow lit Christmas trees.

Now all that surrounds me are white lit ones.

xx, dixmondcat

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dixmondcat · 11 months

Text

Roadstop

summary: your car breaks down on a deserted road at midnight. you have no signal, it’s getting colder, and you are five miles away from help; you’re stranded. a stranger offers his help to you, and you find a way to pass the time.

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

word count: 7.8k

warnings: smut, oral (male recieving), bondage (very softcore), don’t trust strangers this much

a/n: i kind of hate this title and i also don’t love this one but I hope i made it work. going to immediately start one that i’m actually into. this one’s shorter than the last one, but they might all fall around the same word count from now on. again, i can’t stress how thankful i am for the love on ‘the assistant’ as well as my headcanon blurbs, 900+ notes on the fic and 300+ on the headcanons, you guys are too nice. i can’t wait to come back soon with the next fic! enjoy :3

You thought back for a brief second, clearing your head as best you could to gauge your current situation.

In the backseat of a tinted SUV, you were straddled over a thick set of thighs, that of which belonged to a man twice your build, who was bound at the wrists in front of him. The waistband of his jeans were dangerously low and his shirt was somewhere in the front seat. His breathing was shaky and he was looking at you with hooded eyelids, loving every moment of this situation.

What was the catalyst to this exact interaction? Let’s see…

–

Earlier

As badly as you wanted to scream, to cry, to blame everyone else but yourself, this was all on you, and you knew it. There were plenty of ways to avoid this situation.

Your car was toast. Literally. The steam was coming out in soft puffs, and you were thanking every deity up there that it was only steam and not smoke, because it was dead winter, too cold for even snow to fall, and you did not want to get out of your car. How can a car even overheat in 10 degree weather?

The road trip back home was close to three hours and you were nearing the second one when a light started flashing on your dashboard. Inclined to ignore it, but knowing the risks of doing so, you pulled over, hoping for a brief stop.

The road was dark. It made you a little cautious to step out, but this wasn't a common place for people to pull over, but you were unsure if you could make it the next five miles to the rest stop. It was only a two lane road, trees on both sides of you. The worst, you decided, was a deer deciding to dash out and body slam you. You should move quick enough to avoid that.

Looking behind to make sure no one was suddenly driving by, you briskly opened your door and walked to the front of the car. Finding the latch and pulling it aside, you lifted the hood, and a puff of metallic smelling steam hit your face. You backed up, letting it clear, before going in again. Well, you observed, the engine is definitely still there.

Shutting it and shuffling back to your car, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. Should you call a tow service? You didn't know where you were. Should you call the police? They would probably tell you to call the non-emergency line and then tell you to call a tow service. Should you call your friend? She would probably call you stupid, then tell you to call a tow service. That one was the most comfortable, though.

It was, after all, her fault you were here. It’s easy enough to cast the blame on the friend that moved this far away that you had to plan out a whole weekend just to hang out. But, once again, it was on you for deciding to leave this late.

She answered after one ring. “Hey, I’m in trouble.”

“Of course you are. What happened now?” She didn’t sound incredibly concerned.

“I don’t know. I think my car’s overheating. I’m scared to keep driving it.”

She gasped. “It’s only been like… an hour and a half? You’re probably in the woods.”

“If darkness and trees means woods then yes, that’s precisely where I am.”

“You need to get a tow, or something.” Knew it. “Do you see mile markers?”

You leaned forward in your seat, straining to see something that isn’t there. “No, I can’t see. I don't remember passing any either. I’m a few miles away from a rest stop, but, I really don’t–”

Dial tone.

Pulling your phone away from your ear to look at the screen, you wanted to scream even more now. “Fuck!” You shouted out to nobody. No service. You wasted your last few moments of contact, and now you had nothing.

You sat for a moment, stilling your beating heart and trying to think rationally. Walking was out of the question. You nearly froze just going to open the hood. You could wait for service to come back, probably in waves, you might lose a call again. It was the only choice. The call to 911 would be quick, and if you lost service, they would know where you are from pinging you, and if they couldn’t reach you again, they would come find you. It was the best you could hope for.

Settling back into your seat, the last few wisps of orange light disappearing behind the trees, you were ready to wait.

–

You dragged your hands up and down the man’s torso, watching his muscles constrict and hearing delicious whines pour from his lips. He threw his head back onto the seat behind him, unable to look away from your body for even a second, even to blink. You could see the way his jaw tensed and relaxed, you could tell he wanted to say something, but he obeyed you, and he didn’t say a word.

You knew he was staring at the way your body curved and dipped, the way your frame was visible as you had also taken your shirt off, left in only a bra and the jacket that he had put on over you. He was probably ready to cum untouched at just the idea of you wearing his jacket alone, nevermind with nothing on underneath.

Your fingers teased at the waistband of his pants, flitting your fingertips back and forth over the button of his jeans. You could see the way his erection was pressing hard through them, twitching ever so often as you kept your eyes on him. You, yourself, were desperate to pull it out and put your mouth on it, but you couldn’t let him see that.

“It’s tempting,” You whispered into the space between you two. “I want to take it right now,” He strained again, both his hard cock and his upper body, his arms slightly tugging at the restraints. “But I need you to beg for it…” You palmed his dick hard, and his lips parted in a moan. The sound made you even wetter than you already were. His hips bucked upward, moving the both of you, but with one steady hand to the chest, he was still.

You knew well enough that he could bust out of the restraints at any second, he was strong enough to do that and probably tie you up even more securely than you had tied him. But, the mere idea that he was sitting there, being a good boy for you and letting you have him as he was, well, that idea alone had you foaming at the mouth, wanting to take control of him.

This wasn’t the first time you were making someone sit still and be a good boy for you, but it was the first time that a man had you dizzy trying to enforce those rules in the first place.

“Tell me,” You spoke, a sultry look in your eyes, you leaned in just a tad to get in his face. “Do you need it?”

He sighed out as if he had been holding his breath. “Yes, please, I need it so bad…” He nearly tripped over his words trying to force them out, showing you how bad he needed you to touch him, to suck him off, to ride him. Yes, you needed it to, but you couldn’t give it to him without a little bit of teasing involved.

“Do you now…” Your hands wandered up his torso again, fingers gently wrapping around the base of his neck, now even squeezing, and he tipped his head back with a sigh. You peeled your hands off, tracing his shoulders, his biceps, his forearms, and settled your hands over his. “If you keep being good, you can be released and touch me.” You felt his muscles strain again. “Not yet, though.”

He swallowed with the implication. Moving your hips forward, you grinded down onto him, making him screw his eyes shut and groan. Your own heartbeat quickened at the action, and for your own sake as well, you were going to need to speed this up.

You leaned forward once more, mouth next to his ear, lips ghosting around the shell. “You’ll be my good boy and let me suck it, won’t you?”

A shrill whine, then, “Yes, yes, I’ll be your good boy, I promise, please, you can suck it. Please,” His voice was cutting in and out between a whisper and its full depth, you could tell he was worked up, and while you loved the chase of it all, you couldn’t help but to give in and treat yourself, as well.

Your hands fell to his jeans again, hovering over the button. You pressed a kiss into his jawline. “Good boy.”

–

Earlier

This was much more boring than you anticipated. You wanted to scroll through your phone so badly, but you knew you needed to conserve battery. There wasn’t much in the way of entertainment in your car, merely your overnight bag in the back with your clothes in it, your laptop buried at the bottom for work, and your water bottle which was almost empty now. You kept checking every 5 minutes for a service signal, watching as the percent in the corner slowly ticked down.

It was growing colder by the minute in your car, and you had a blanket over your lap trying to conserve what you could. You felt like you were trapped in the wild, stranded with no food, no communication, when realistically you were only a hair outside of the nearest civilization.

No one had driven by yet. It was odd for no one to be taking this road at this time, at least one or two people would be coming by, maybe even a freight truck, but so as your luck worked out, there was not a soul tonight.

You were getting tired now, but your nerves were too lit up to allow yourself to fall asleep. Resting your head back against the car seat, staring out into darkness, your mind began to wander.

How many deer were out in these woods right now? Probably none, with the way your eyes were fully adjusted to the darkness now, you could spot one a mile away. It would be the only movement. What was your friend doing? Was she still trying to call you? Clearly she hadn’t called anyone for help, as it’s been a rough 30 minutes since you lost service, and the nearest city was just outside of where you sat. They would have gotten there in 15 max. Was it possible to freeze to death in just a few hours within the confines of your car, even though you were nowhere near that point yet?

Just then, your head shot forward as you spotted light behind you. Finally, a person! You straightened out and pulled the blanket off of you, debating if you should step out or not. That would definitely get their attention, but what if they were in the right lane and they hit you? Surely there would be no point in waiting for signal after that.

You didn’t even need to make a decision, as you put your hand on the door handle to step out into the brisk air, the headlights suddenly swerved and became aligned with you. They grew bigger and bigger, you were sure they were going to hit you, but they stopped.

You stared, scared, but knew this was your only shot at help. You stepped out.

The car that pulled up behind you stayed running, lights still shining, and you squinted to see past them. It looked like an SUV, much bigger than your own sedan, and could definitely do this drive without overheating no problem.

The driver’s side door opened, but you only saw the silhouette of it, still trying to block the headlights. You lifted your hand to your eyes to do so, and you saw a man get out. Ideally, for safety, you would have wanted a woman, but you couldn’t be picky when this was the first person you saw for almost an hour.

He walked over to you, and placed himself in front of the headlight so you could see him. Now, backlit, you could see the bulky build of a man, donned in a leather jacket with a fur collar, long hair falling down to his cheekbones, his breaths rolling off in slow puffs. He stood a good distance away from you, probably aware of how you might be feeling in this situation.

“You need help?” No shit, you wanted to answer, but couldn’t choke the words up.

“Uh, yeah, I got stuck.” You turned briefly to look at the car. “It overheated. I lost signal to call for help.”

The man nodded, walking around you and over to the hood of your car. He bent over and lifted it, messing around in there for a few seconds. You took one step closer to him, hugging yourself for warmth, now missing the inside of your car.

He shut it suddenly and walked back over. “You probably just have no antifreeze left. I don’t have any in my car, though. Do you know if you happen to have any?”

You stood staring at him for another second. “I’m gonna guess no, considering I’m not totally sure what you mean.” You could see him clearly now, standing in front of his headlights. His face was covered in dark shadows from his hair and the contours of his face, his deep brow casting darkness into his eyes, but you could still see they were blue. He had on a dark t-shirt, and it didn’t leave much to the imagination to picture the figure underneath. You met his eyes again.

He just nodded. “That’s alright. Not something you tend to prepare for.” He walked closer to you, but you stood your ground and let him approach you. “Want to come down the road with me to get some? There’s a 24/7 convenience just a few miles away. I can have you out of here within the hour.” You said nothing. You weren’t sure if you entirely wanted to do that, but you also didn’t want him to not come back at all. As if sensing your inner turmoil, he stuck his hand out towards you. “Leon Kennedy. I work for the state. I’m on the way home from a detail.”

You slowly extended your own hand, telling him your name. His hand was warm. You didn’t want to let go. “Detail? Are you a cop?”

He shrugged. “Sort of. I don’t want to leave you here. You should warm up.” You looked back at his car, still running, positive that the heat was blasting, and you gave in.

“Okay. But don’t think about trying anything. I can put up a hell of a fight, you know.”

He laughed. “You have my word.”

You walked around to the passengers side and hopped in, hoisting yourself up into the surprisingly high cabin. You looked at the dash as he settled in, getting comfortable with the space. This was a much newer car than you were used to.

His phone was connected to the bluetooth, music rumbling quietly out of the speakers. Deftones. Maybe I can trust him for now.

You subconsciously settled into the seat, the warmth enveloping you. The ride was much smoother than your own car, and you knew you weren’t going to stop the comparisons until this experience was over. You kept an eye to the left of you, still needing to be alert, you were in a stranger's car after all, even though you knew his name and job, that didn’t mean anything.

You saw him sneak a glance over at you, and you shot your eyes back down to the display on the dashboard.

“You like them?” He hit a button on the steering wheel and turned the volume up a few notches. You could still hear him clearly.

“Of course.” You let the silence hang for a second. Testing the waters, “If it was country, I might have had to pull a tuck and roll.”

He barked another laugh. At least he wasn’t stoic. “You’re lucky you didn’t catch me on a Wednesday, then.” You giggled. After saying nothing else, he continued. “What brought you to this position anyways?”

You sighed. “One of my good friends lives out here, about an hour away or so. I was on my way home. I know I shouldn’t have left this late, but in my defense, I didn;t know my car was going to overheat, so…”

He hummed. “That’s not your fault. It happens. Can’t prepare for those things, again.”

You looked out the window to the pitch black nothingness as you rode past. You looked back over at him, he had his right forearm on the console while his left hand steered. “You seemed too prepared to stop, though. What if I killed you?”

His mouth quirked, and you couldn’t help but repeat it. “I could handle it if you tried to.”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, I could have surprised you. I’m stronger than I look. Men love to doubt the ones that are smaller than them.”

The smile on his face didn’t falter. “And what are you capable of against a man like me, then?”

“I don’t think you want to find out. I’m dominating, you know.” Wait… what? You truly didn’t mean it to sound like that, but you couldn’t suck the words back up. You just furrowed your brows in frustration at yourself, and blamed the lack of sleep, the cold, your aggravation, whatever you could. Regardless of the words you couldn’t take back, Leon didn’t stop smiling. He turned his head a degree in your direction, and you could still see him out of your peripheral.

A few minutes later, the convenience came into view and he pulled into the lot. You squinted at the bright lights of the parking lot.

“Hang tight, I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

You only nodded, watching him stalk away into the building. You decided, seeing his full body in the lights, if you had met him under any other circumstances, you wouldn’t peg him as the helpful type of guy. His gait was strong, like it said Don’t fuck with me, or else. It almost made you giddy, knowing that you were the one being helped when he wouldn’t have otherwise. Like, in a romance book, when the bad boy doesn’t like anyone, but likes you.

It wasn’t as uncomfortable as you had thought it would be. Maybe he was lightening up his personality so he wouldn’t scare you on purpose. If he really was just a helpful guy, the last thing he would want is to scare a young girl in the middle of nowhere at midnight.

You were getting comfortable in the seat now, the heat wrapping around you, making you dread having to go back out into your cold car. You sighed even harder when you remembered that you still had a long ride to go before you could even go to bed.

Leon walked out of the store and back to the car, bottle of antifreeze in hand, and you tensed up when the cold air hit your skin as he opened the door.

He watched you as he lowered himself into the seat. “I didn’t mean it literally. You could have moved.”

You shrugged with a smile as he closed the door again. “I didn’t need to.”

After a few minutes of chatting and listening to music, you arrived back at your car after needing to loop around to get back onto the right side of the road. You sighed and hit your head back against the seat of the car.

“What’s the sigh for? You get to go now.” Leon unblocked his seatbelt and took the bottle from where he left it on the console.

“Yeah, but it’s cold. I don’t want to get out.”

Leon grinned softly. “So don’t. I’ll be right back.”

You sat and soaked up the heat while he went back over to your car, popped the hood, and disappeared behind it for a few minutes. You could only wonder how cold he must have been right now. Probably not very, maybe only his hands and neck, that jacket looks warm enough. You were stupid to only put a zip up on.

You looked down at your lap, then your gaze wandered to the interior of the car. It was very clean here. Leon did seem like the type to want to take care of his vehicle, and you were afraid to make any sort of move in case you put dirt on anything.

The backseat was empty, not even an extra piece of clothing (which there was plenty of in your own backseat), and you wondered how it was even possible for someone to be this neat.

You looked back through the windshield to see that Leon was still working in your hood. Your eyes fell lower to the glove compartment.

Realistically, this wouldn’t be the worst thing you could do right now, since you didn’t know Leon, and you could pass it off by wanting to assure yourself that you were safe, but at the same time, you felt guilty even thinking about it, since Leon had been nothing but nice to you so far. He trusted you enough to leave you alone in his pristine car while he helped you out.

That alone made you shift your gaze back up, pushed the thought of snooping down, and settled in to see Leon walking back to his car.

“Alright, you should be all set now. Hopefully it doesn’t happen again for another long while.” He shut the door next to him, and you gazed out at your car, making no moves.

“How much?” You rolled your head over to look at him.

“Huh?” He furrowed his brow.

“The antifreeze. How much was it?”

He breathed out a laugh, not moving much. “I don’t want your money.”

You shrugged. “You didn’t need to do this for me, this is the least I could do for your help.”

Leon simply looked at you. “I stopped because I wanted to help. I don’t want your money.”

You stared at him. His eyes were half lidded, a small smile was gracing his features. He was lit up from the light of his display screen, still softly playing Deftones. You could see the texture of his face, his lips, his hair. He was unmoving under the scrutiny of your gaze; yet so were you.

“I can put up a fight. I’ll make you take it.”

His smile grew. “So the legend goes, as you’ve told me.” He moved his right arm to come back and rest on the console in between you two. “I’m not going to accept it, though.”

“So, what? Am I gonna have to force you to take it? Cause I’m not leaving until you do.” You settled right back into the seat. Leon kept smiling at you. “I’m defiant. And I’ll get my way. If I have to slap you around to take it.” Leon hummed and quirked an eyebrow at your words. It only added fuel to your confidence fire. “Even if I have to tie you down to prevent you from fighting.”

You looked at him with your eyebrows raised, showing you meant business, but he remained still. “Is that so?” You nodded. You saw him tighten his grip around the steering wheel, but the action didn’t frighten you. You could hear in his tone that he was mostly relaxed. You almost felt bad for being like this– it was late at night and he, too, was on his way home, but you simply couldn’t let this good deed go unrewarded.

“Open that.” His voice cut through your thoughts, his tone light, but his voice deep. You met his eyes to see where he was looking, which was in the direction of the glove compartment. See, you told yourself, good karma can aid curiosity. You looked at it and hesitated a moment, trying to scan your brain as quickly as possible to see if this would be a trick. After a few seconds, when you thought of nothing, you reached over.

Tumbling forward as soon as you swung the compartment open was a small black bag, maybe about the size of a water bottle. It stopped on the door itself, and you made no move to grab it. You simply looked over at Leon.

He was watching you intensely, his smile had disappeared, but his look was not stern or angry. It made your stomach twist with… something, but what exactly, you couldn’t tell. You slowly swung your gaze back over to it.

“I hope those weren’t empty threats you were throwing at me.” You kept your eyes on the bag, but the pieces started falling in place around you. In a whisper, barely loud enough for you to hear, Leon said, “Can’t you show me what you are capable of?”

Ice and fire ran through your veins simultaneously as you reached out to grab the bag, noticing upon touching it that it was smooth, silky. Holding it in your hands, you rotated it to find the opening. You could feel Leon staring at you.

Finding the opening and flipping it downwards, you held onto the bag as you dumped the contents into your hands. A tightly wound bundle of black rope fell out.

You couldn’t form words for a minute, struggling to find air in your lungs. The rope was just as soft as the bag was, and you knew exactly why, exactly what the use intended for this was. You turned your head slowly to look over at Leon again. His head had rolled back to rest on the back of the car seat, but his gaze never left yours.

You found the energy to speak. “You come prepared for these types of situations?”

A slow smile blossomed on his features again. “I don’t usually need it. I guess, I never find myself wanting to use it.” He turned his head, looking back at the dash now, almost embarrassed at his words. A smirk was fighting its way through on your features. He licked his lips, then turned back to you. “I think now… maybe I do.”

You breathed a laugh, and turned the bundle over in your hands. “How am I going to hold up to my word if you want to use this on me?”

Leon leaned forward just a tad, looking you deep in the eyes. The blue light coming off of the digital display screen lit up his face, and though color was distorted, his cheeks had more hue to them.

“I don’t want to tie you up…” You tilted your head up at the sudden realization. You held eye contact.

“A big man like you? I didn’t imagine you’d be wanting me to do that to you…” You spoke slowly, not trying to give the impression that you were against the idea. Because, truly, you weren’t, at all. The idea of having him bound for you made your lungs cut the air supply short and had your knees weak. The power you felt sitting in this seat was immeasurable, hearing that the man who was twice your size wanted you to remove his sense of control, well, it had you thrumming with anticipation.

Leon huffed a laugh. He looked down, obviously slightly ashamed at having admitted this. “Well, you haven’t had much time to get to know me.”

You shifted in your seat, turning to him, bending slightly to get him to look into your eyes again. “So tell me, then. I have the time to listen.”

He attempted a shrug, and leaned back at the same time so you could see his face clearer now. Some of his hair was covering his eyes, but you left it, though you did think about moving it for him. “I’m 27, I used to be a cop, still affiliated though, I do some late night stuff at the station…” He looked over. “I did just want to help you. Even if there was no one in the car, I probably would have stopped anyway.” You nodded, listening to every word. “I…” He trailed off, looking for the words to say. “I don’t… do much else. I’m not that interesting.”

“You have no girlfriend or wife?” You whispered, and though you knew, hoped, the answer would be no, you wanted to know why he thought the answer was no.

He shook his head, as predicted. “I don’t seem to have luck.” He laughed lowly, almost in a self-deprecating manor.

“Well, I hope this isn’t always how you try to pick up women, it’s kind of scary, you know.” You laughed, and he smiled with you.

“I never particularly bothered to go looking. I just figured they would come around.”

“You can’t always bet on fate like that, it might not get you anywhere.” You shrugged.

He raised an eyebrow. “It did tonight, though.”

You nodded, seeing the irony in the night. After a second of silence, you slightly shifted your position again. “So, now what? A man like you has me in your car, holding rope, that you already had in here, by the way, and you’re telling me you want me to use it to show you what I’m capable of.”

He shrugged and leaned back, breaking eye contact for a moment. A small smile played on his lips. “Well…” He sighed. “I think it will keep you warmer than you would be in your car.”

The two of you migrated to the backseat without another word. Something shifted in the air, some silent agreement had settled in between you two, and the moment the doors shut behind you, mouths on one another, heat rising, hands slithering in between, leaving no inch of skin left untouched. Leon was quick to snake his warm hands up your shirt and hike it over your head, but you let him, followed quickly by his own. His lips were soft and warm, the kiss became sloppy, greedy, you would have succumbed to it then and there if there wasn’t a promise to uphold.

You raked your hand through his hair, soft as silk, and gripped at the base of his head, making him moan into the kiss. The hand he placed on your waist gripped the flesh, and with one swift movement, you swung your leg over his to straddle him. It was already like he was at your mercy before you even took anything away from him, and it only made him look all the more desperate for you.

The kiss broke, and for a second the two of you were just staring at each other. You watched the rise and fall of his chest, which you had discovered with your hands before even seeing it, that it was incredibly toned, and you almost didn’t even want to stop touching him. HIs hands rested on your hips, holding you in place on top of him, eyes full of lust.

He shook his head slowly, forming a thought. “Are you sure you weren’t in charge of fate to make me find you tonight?”

You grinned, running your hands up his torso, you just couldn’t stop yourself. “If I was, don’t you think I would have made it a little more convenient for us?”

He sighed at your touch, head rolling backwards, closing his eyes. After a low hum of satisfaction, he replied. “I guess so… What about fate the second time around?” Your hands slid up to his shoulders, feeling the texture underneath your palms, all of the skin and bone and muscle. You pushed yourself down into his lap, already feeling his hardening dick through his jeans, making him groan louder, and you sigh in relief.

“We haven’t even gotten started and you are already thinking of round two…” You leaned in, teasing a breath along his neck, then gently licking on his jawline. The skin of your stomach felt the heat that he was producing, and you pressed your bodies together, the contact feeling like bliss.

“I already know I’ll need you again.” He said in a whisper, and the sheer intensity that it caused within you made you lean in and bite the tender skin under his jaw, and he moaned, gripping your waist even tighter.

Your hands kept running along his skin, desperate to get even more contact between you two. Your mind was getting foggy with desire, needing to be as close to Leon as possible, as much as the small space in his backseat would allow. His fingers were starting to dip below the waistline of your pants, and while you almost let him slide them past, you grabbed onto his hand and pulled it out, remembering the reason you were in the backseat in the first place.

“Don’t forget why we’re here…” You mumbled into his ear, where you were still pressed up against him. You heard him sigh, as well as felt it, and finally pushed yourself off of him.

He looked up at you from under his half-lidded eyes. “Tell me what you want me to do, then. I’ll do anything.” His voice was breathy and low, and his hands came down to rest on the top of your thigh. You sat up as straight as you could, feeling all of the control get handed over to you in that one second. Involuntarily, a chill ran through your body. Cold air had hit your heated skin as you parted, as well as the added sensations that Leon was contributing to. He pushed himself up, leaned past you to the front seat, one hand steadying you on your lower back. When he fell back, he put the shoulders of his jacket over you.

He sighed as he leaned back, examining your frame as it rested over him, straightening your posture as the warmth fell around you. “Looks better on you anyway…”

You stared at him for another moment before your brain kicked into action. “Hold your hands out,” You whispered, and he obeyed. You reached behind you and grabbed the bundle of rope. “You’ll behave if I tie you up like this?”

“Yes…” He breathed out, watching your hands as they wrapped and knotted the rope around his wrists, not too tight, but he couldn’t slip out of it too easily. You felt a surge of confidence at the mere premonition of you tying up a huge, muscled man, submitting to your dominance. You felt heat pool in between your legs as his head fell back, his chest flexed, and the feeling of his hard cock poking you through his pants. You were suddenly glad your car gave out on you on this random night.

This brings you to your current position. Everything playing an equal hand in getting this man in his own backseat underneath you, staring up with sinful eyes. You weren’t sure what to do first, you wanted to do everything to this man, and let him do everything to you.

He had already professed his need for you to take him in your mouth, and you were itching to keep teasing him, but as a reward for not leaving you stranded, you were going to play nice with him.

HIs breathing was ragged and his eyes were locked on you, not daring to look away as your hands snaked closer and closer to the button on his jeans. Your fingers flitted over the tent in his pants, the sensation barely registering with him, and he bucked his hips up, but you pressed them back down by his hips.

“Patience… patience baby…” You murmured, not looking up from where your hands were dancing around letting him loose. He whined, and the sound traveled straight to your core, making you all the more desperate. As a second reward for obeying your command, you pressed your palm fully into his hardened cock, and he groaned and threw his head back. You smirked in response, now needing the skin on skin contact.

Your hands made quick work of the button and zipper, and he lifted his hips when you pulled down his waistband of both his jeans and underwear. His erection sprang out, slapping his toned stomach, and you felt saliva pooling in the corners of your mouth, slick gathering in between your legs, and Leon was almost shaking with anticipation.

You wrapped a delicate hand around his dick and he whined again, his chest shuddering with shallow breaths, sighing out profanities at the contact. He was so warm and hard in your hand, and even just the ginger strokes you were delivering had him crumbling under you.

The other hand that wasn't wrapped around him came up to brace yourself on his chest, and his skin matched the temperature of his throbbing girth. His tip was leaking profusely, and you brought your thumb up to press through it and spread it, which elicited another whimper from within him. The friction was dry, and you were sure it didn't feel the best for Leon, but there were no signs of pain in his expression, and if you kept this up long enough, he might cum from this alone.

He was of average length, but you were never one to complain, especially not in a situation like this, and it was a benefit when the attempt to deepthroat him came along, knowing it would make it easier. You couldn’t wait any longer, and even though watching him writhe under you was more pleasure than you expected, you needed more.

You leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his neck, coated in a thin layer of sweat. You made a brief note of how hot it was in the car now, probably all from him, and though it was completely dark outside, you were sure the windows were foggy. He sighed at your lips on his skin.

“Thank you for being so good to me,” You spoke softly to him, and you lifted your head to press your lips together, which he hungrily accepted. Your body fell forward slightly, your hand still balancing on his hard chest, and you could feel his arms in between the both of you, but he was not protesting.

You pulled away, but hovered over his face and pressed your foreheads together. He whispered, “Need you so bad…” heavily breathing onto your lips. You grinned, seeing he was quickly reaching the brink of his patience.

“I got you baby,” Another quick kiss, but you pulled away before he could deepen it. “You’re being a good boy for me.” He quietly moaned at the praise, and let you remove yourself from on top of him. You hopped off his lap and sunk to your knees in between his legs, looking up once last time to see his pretty face before ducking your head, and licking a thick stripe up the length of his cock.

His groan was louder than it had been before, and you felt his whole body shudder with his breaths. The saliva that had been gathering in your mouth coated him easily, and when your tongue met the tip, with a swipe to collect the precum (which resulted in another sharp whine), you let all of your spit pour over your lips and leak down the sides, which you hastily swept up with your hand, and continued to pump his dick with.

Every breath that he released was paired with some sort of noise, whether it be a groan, a whine, a whimper, anything that you were doing to him right now was causing him to quickly become unwound, and just seeing him fall apart under your hands was causing your strokes to become harder, quicker, and you stopped refusing him to buck his hips in your hand because you loved seeing how desperate he was becoming. You could see the veins in his forearms and biceps, the flexing of his arms against the rope around his wrists, and it made you weaker to know he was the only person keeping him within those restraints, and he could flip the power dynamic at any moment if he wanted to. But, he didn’t, and he let himself be dominated.

With another lick from base to tip, your lips closed over his head, our tongue dipped and swirled around the soft skin, the tangy salt of his precum coating your tastebuds, and at once, you took his entirety into your mouth. A rough gasp came from Leon as you swallowed him whole, pressing your tongue against the underside of his cock, feeling every ridge and bump. Your hand continued to work below where you could reach, giving gentle squeezes, and your other hand occasionally worked his balls, causing him to throw his head back every few seconds.

You were reveling in his taste at this moment, every bead of precum that spurted out of his tip was lapped up instantly, mixing in with your spit as you took him in your mouth, your tongue studying and memorizing his shape and size. You sucked him down like it was your last moment to ever be with him, hoping you would be able to find yourself in this position with him again.

“Fuck… fuck, you feel so good…” Leon couldn’t contain the words spilling out of his mouth, he was losing sanity it seemed with every movement you made with your tongue, every stroke your hand delivered, and every time you opened your throat to shove him as far back as you could. He would whimper every time you stifled a gag at trying to deepthroat his length, loving the way you worked past pain just to have more of him.

You could feel so much heat and wetness within yourself, and as much as you wanted to relieve your own pressure, you knew you wouldn't be done with Leon after you made him cum.

After another hit to the back of the throat with his tip, you heard him whine out, “I’m so… I’m so close, fuck–” paired with more gasps and whimpers. His fists were balled up so tight, the rope was straining against his flexing, and his mouth hung open as he watched you take him all.

Your hand that wasn’t on his cock was gripping his thick thigh, feeling it twitch underneath your palm. You gripped it tighter, deciding against an urge to want to edge him, not able to fight your own need to taste him.

After another lick, you released him from your mouth and resorted to stroking him so you could talk and breathe for a moment. “How close are you, baby?” Your breathing was heavy, and you could feel the spit hanging off your lips, still connected in thin strings to his tip.

He gasped again at the feeling of cool air touching his wet dick. “So… so close,” He bucked his hips again into your hands and you let him, liking watching him chase his own release.

“Where do you want it, huh? I’ll let you decide.” You kept working his dick while he tried his hardest to contain himself.

He groaned, clearly struggling to speak through all of the sensations. “I… I, oh, god, anywhere…” His head was back against the seat again, and this time it seemed to stay there while you kept touching him. Underneath his arms, you could see his torso tensing and relaxing with the way his whole body was pulsing, and even through the darkness you could tell he was toned, insanely so, you could see the rigid outlines of ab muscles where his arms weren’t blocking them. Sharp lines contoured his hips where they dipped into his pelvis, akin to a rainbow with a pot of gold at the end that you currently had in your hands, dripping with precum and saliva. You couldn’t take it. You needed to see him blissed out.

You moved your hand back down to the base and planted your flat tongue on the underside of his cock, licking all the way up to the tip. “Come on, cum for me, I’ll let you…” With quick movements and the occasional lick to his tip, you brought him closer and closer to his release, and you could see it written all over his face whenever he put his head back up to look down at you. His brows were furrowed, his mouth open, and you could see the glint on his face from sweat.

“Shit, oh, fuck, I–I’m coming,--” Leon rasped out as much as he could through his thick breaths, body convulsing the second he hit the threshold of his release. You felt it the same time you saw it, his dick throbbed under your palm and a rope of hot white cum spurted upward, landing on his stomach, some on his hands, and yours. You hastily pressed your mouth to the tip, feeling it coat your tongue, the roof of your mouth, drip to the back of your throat. You kept your tongue pressed to the underside of the head, feeling that, too, pulse with his orgasm. He was groaning in tandem with this happening, and you lapped up everything he had to offer, the salty, hot, viscous liquid sitting heavy in your mouth. You choked back a gag with the swallow, but it made it down, and you cleaned your hand, his twitching dick, and wherever it landed on him by licking it up. He whimpered at the feeling of your tongue on his hands.

“You looked so good for me,” You whispered into the air as you slowly rose from your position, and hovered over him. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me like this…” You looked down at him, spent, panting, eyes lazily making eye contact with you, but you could see so much more in his gaze.

A second passed before either of you spoke again. Without moving too far, you brought a hand down to untie the rope, and his hands came to rest over your thigh once they were free. The rope lay discarded on the floor.

“We still have the rest of the night… don’t we?” Your stomach turned at his implication, he still wanted you, and he was still ready to keep going. Your hand came up to gently touch the side of his neck, thumb tracing the edge of his jawline.

“We have however long you want. I’m not done with you.”

He grinned, his eyes opened a little further this time, and his hands left your thighs to hold your face as he kissed you deeply, blissfully ignoring your phone incessantly ringing, abandoned in the front seat.

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dixmondcat · 11 months

Text

God's Menu

chef! leon x fem! reader // Kinktober Installment 4

"cooking a sauce, get all you want / savor it, lick it, say it, bon / taste so good, everyone loves it / but it all tastes strong / i want it till i serve them all / i do my research, cross boundaries"

summary: you're struggling to keep up with the basics of your culinary program, enough that it threatens your graduation date. your professors decided a summer internship at the prestigious chef kennedy’s restaurant will help you catch up quickly. still slipping up on small tasks, chef kennedy decides to mentor you after hours. what will you create together?

warnings: power dynamics (mentor/mentee relationship), corruption kink, dom! leon, food mention, alcohol mention, food play, temperature play, cunniligus, unprotected p in v sex, creampie

word count/genre: 3.3k+ (oops) // smut // link to ao3

author's note: here it is! the long-anticipated chef! leon fic which just so happens to be one of my longest fics to date. i had a lot of fun finally “cooking” this and then letting it “bake” in the oven at 400 degrees fahrenheit. i don’t think this is the last of chef! leon and i’ll probably write a little drabble about leon receiving some food play, so let me know if you’d like to see that. i want to thank my darling em (@emilzke) for always encouraging me and allowing me to drop my thirst rambles in her DM’s because sometimes they turn out into full-fledged fics. also shoutout to tea (@scar-crossedlvrs) for helping me sort through some organizational things. as always, feedback/reblogs/replies are greatly appreciated. enjoy your eating (;

even as a young child, you always loved cooking and playing chef. you spent hours in your play-kitchen, repeatedly serving your poor parent's plastic food. It only worsened when you were gifted easy-bake ovens, crafting concoctions to rival Frankenstein’s monster with only a lightbulb, water, and a mixing packet. But it was always an ordeal when your parents would peel you from the comfort of the kitchen. you would throw the largest tantrum when removed from the kitchen because, “those are sharp, don’t touch that!” and “that flame is hot, you’ll burn your hand!” and “no! that’s raw, and if you eat it, you’ll get sick.” your passion persisted. what was originally thought to be a phase that continued as you refined your skills throughout your upbringing. your unique recipes won several local cook-off titles, and you enjoyed preparing dinner for the family after a long day of schoolwork. it was your creative space. edible art. it relaxed you while invigorating you at the same time. the combinations and creations were endless. and when graduation rolled around, it didn’t much surprise your parents that you were looking towards culinary school.

getting into culinary school seemed to be the easiest part, though. succeeding in culinary school? that was another story. everything felt so scientific, and you struggled with the most basic skills. your knife cuts were far too sloppy, and you could only play the “rustic” card so many times. your nerves betrayed you on your practicals, causing you to shake and forget the most basic cake ingredients. I mean, really, who bakes a cake without some sort of milk or milk substitute? On the other hand, though, every non-cooking or baking course went over easily. You were an ace at menu planning and design. You were a sanitation queen, always knowing how to get the toughest stains out of the counters. Inventory management? A walk in the park. And sure, those courses may be easy A’s, but they didn’t ignite your passion. Too many conversations with your chef instructors assured you that you had a promising career in restaurant management but were still a long way off from being a renowned chef. You needed an intervention and fast. What better way to make progress than baptism by fire?

your parents and their infinite connections managed to get you a job as a sous chef at the esteemed Chef Kennedy’s luxury restaurant in the expensive part of downtown. Even your instructors were impressed that you were able to pull this off. they agreed that if you could last the summer under Chef Kennedy’s tutelage, you would graduate culinary school on time. However, as you showed up for your first day of work, you were in WAY over your head.

Chef Kennedy ran his kitchen like a well-oiled machine. Not a grain of rice was ever misplaced, and this intimidated the hell out of you. People were rushing everywhere, tending to the gourmet dishes that always came out looking perfect. You hadn’t eaten here before, but your mouth was already watering in anticipation at the smells wafting behind the kitchen doors. And this was considered a lull in dining time between the lunch and dinner rush. Little time was wasted when you entered the bustling kitchen; one of the other sous chefs immediately put you to work on garnishes. Not too difficult of a task, or so you thought. A sprig of mint here, a swirly chocolate ganache here, and a perfectly shaped dollop of butter were nerve-wracking. your clumsiness caused even the most delectable food to look ugly and completely disheveled. it was the first time your food had been sent back on presentation alone.

that’s when you laid eyes on him – Chef Leon Kennedy. The first thing you notice about him probably shouldn’t be his attractiveness. With eyes the color of ripe blueberries and blond hair so beautiful it would make the wheat envious, Leon had captivated your attention before he spoke. He was fit, too, with muscles to rival Robert Irvine; this man was clearly passionate about fitness and nutrition. His broad shoulders strained against his white chef jacket, almost as if the seams were clinging to dear life as they faced inevitable demise when Leon decided to move his arms next. You might’ve flirted with him in another setting and tried to go on a few dates. But the power that radiated off him made you feel small and embarrassed when he placed your pathetic platter on the prep table.

he wasn’t one to yell like Gordon Ramsey, but the deep sigh of disappointment reverberated against the chaotic kitchen walls. “I always notice sloppy technique,” he speaks, an aura of authority in his tone. you’re visibly shaking, worrying about being fired from your dream job on your first day. “s-sorry chef. i’m a culinary school intern. i didn’t know any better, but i’d like to learn,” you announce with your voice sounding meek. all eyes are on you, and frustrated tears well into your eyes. leon turns his head to face you and looks you once over. he nods singularly in understanding. he decides to be benevolent today and takes pity on your demure stature. “Just stick to cleaning for today then,” he commands, not wanting to create an even bigger scene, and waves his hand to dismiss every other kitchen employee back to their workstations.

you take a small bathroom break between menial cleaning tasks. you wail and cry over your own incompetence in private. you’re ready to throw the towel in at this point and maybe attend a real university. leave the restaurant life behind and just continue to be a cooking hobbyist. however, you’re broken out of your pity party by a soft rap at the wooden door to the bathroom. “a-are you alright in there?” a voice asks through the thick oak door. It’s Chef Leon. You scramble to pull yourself together, blowing your nose and trying to steady the shakiness in your voice. you’re trembling yet again, but open the door to see leon. his face is laced with worry. “s-sorry, chef,” you apologize. you brace yourself to be fired, trying to be brave. this was surely the end. but somehow, the hammer never dropped. leon stepped closer to you, resisting a nurturing urge to reach out and touch you. “oh sweetheart,” he said in a low whisper. “talk to me.” his paternal tone should feel patronizing, but for some reason, you were comforted by it.

his sweet words caused a cascade of tears to flow from your cheeks, and leon tried to make sense of your barely coherent sobs. “dream job” .. “failing school” .. “haven’t even eaten here.” He listens attentively, a small frown pulling on the corner of his mouth. “tell you what, why don’t you take off for the rest of the day. just recover. for the next two weeks, you meet me here at 8am sharp and I will help you refine your skills.” he offers. you sniffle, dragging your eyes up to meet his, and nod, not trusting your voice.

you looked so pretty like this. down on your knees, begging and pleading not to lose your job. sobbing while you shared your sorrows with him. such a young, vulnerable thing. leon was grateful his chef’s coat covered his trousers so you couldn’t see the half-hard on he was sporting. he couldn’t help it. he wanted to help you improve as a chef and build your confidence, but he also couldn’t tame the desire to break you down. a malleable dough ripe for shaping beneath his skilled hands. he never felt this way about one of his employees before, so why you? he hoped to shake this feeling, as such a desire was extremely unprofessional.

leon coughs to clear his perverted thoughts and then helps you to stand. “See you tomorrow then. 8 a.m. on the dot. Don’t be late. I don’t give second chances,” he commands before a hasty exit. After all, he had a kitchen to manage.

training with Leon had started off pretty miserable. Your knife skills were shoddy at best, and you barely knew the difference between a julienne and a batonnet. You oversalted and underseasoned. Sweet desserts came out too bitter, and tart desserts came out sour. But time and time again, Chef Kennedy put up with your mistakes. His teaching hand was firm, never allowing your work to be finished unless it was perfect. Now, you were less of a liability during the lunch and dinner rushes and were trusted with some line cook tasks. Slowly, you had made progress.

you were rewarded with small tips and tricks Leon had picked up over the years and a bit more of his backstory. Leon developed his love of cooking out of necessity. He was alone for the majority of his life and wanted to learn how to make cheap, healthy meals. Despite insane work weeks, Leon’s love of cooking never faded, and he finally saved enough money to attend the prestigious Auguste Escoffier School of Culinary Arts in the United States. Finding success a few years after graduation, Leon was recommended to travel to the acclaimed Le Cordon Bleu culinary school in Paris, France to take a desserts and pastry course. Not to mention a few years ago, he thought it might be fun to learn the basics of mixology. Truly, a jack of all trades in the food realm and a lifelong learner. But his journey to culinary stardom wasn’t always easy, he struggled a lot to keep up with a high-tempo kitchen. He empathized with your struggles but saw your potential – probably what made you such a good training pair. when you finally presented a nearly perfect recreation of his signature four-course meal, he knew you no longer needed his specific observation.

on your last day of one-on-one training, you off-handedly remark, “Wow, I’ve made all these signature dishes, but I’ve never even eaten at this restaurant.” Leon’s head whipped to face you, and a grin spreads across his face. “Well, we can’t have that, my little protege, can we? Would you join me tomorrow for a four-course meal?” he asks, under the guise of being polite and celebratory. But internally, he hopes he has the chance to show you more than just his talents in the kitchen. you eagerly accept, blissfully ignoring you’ll now be spending your one day off back in your place of work.

you shouldn’t be this nervous. You and Chef Kennedy had been working together for weeks now, in close proximity, hands brushing and bodies touching, but something about a shared meal felt more intimate. Dare you say it felt romantic? You adhered to the restaurant’s dress code, business formal, and dressed up for the first time in weeks. you wore a mid-length dress with an open back that showed a bit of your body but kept it comfortable and classy enough to eat four courses of gourmet food. your shoes and jewelry were elegant but not enough to detract from the dress. your makeup and hair were subdued but stunning nonetheless. When you walked through the door, Leon felt as though he would fall to his knees.

leon had prepared a private table in the center of the restaurant. it was laid with a beautiful white tablecloth with the napkins folded in an ornate style. the silverware was plated perfectly, and nothing was missing or out of place. A single rose decorated the center, and tea lights for ambiance, and you could hear the faint sound of Chopin playing over the speakers. You gasped, “C-chef, was this all for me?” A gentle smile runs across Leon’s features as he pulls your chair out for you. “Every future food connoisseur deserves their chance at a gourmet meal. Bon appetit,” he says in a low, sultry tone that suits the atmosphere.

what started as an innocent cocktail with your meal quickly devolved into a few drinks and a split bottle of wine. You and leon were both properly tipsy now, and there was nothing to filter the two of you’s flirtatious nature – especially not in an environment filled with aphrodiasiacs. The sexual tension between the two of you was palpable, and in an empty restaurant, it was due to bubble over like a shaken bottle of champagne. you try to stifle your giggles enough to enjoy the desserts he had prepared for the evening, however, chocolate fondue has never been known to be a very “clean” dessert, and when a bit of chocolate dribbles out of the corner of your mouth.. leon can’t help himself. he brings himself closer to you, lips hovering just over yours as his hand cups beneath your chin, before he whispers, “may i?” and in a breathy whisper, you reply, “yes, chef.”

his lips capture your own in a searing kiss, which you ardently return. he spends a few short moments studying the movement of your lips against his own. he doesn’t forget to lick the chocolate from the corner of your mouth and uses his tongue to trace your bottom lip. your body decides before your mind as your lips part to allow him access and his tongue explores your mouth as if savoring a fine meal. But Chef Kennedy has decided that the table is separating you just simply wouldn’t do as he crossed over to you, and he picks you up effortlessly to sit you on the edge of the long, neighboring mahogany table. After that brief intermission, he positions himself inbetween your legs to kiss you once more. this time with less restraint and greedy hands squeezing your breasts, earning him a soft moan and your hands reaching to tug at his hair.

kissing isn’t enough, despite how enjoyable it may be when you’re both buzzed off of wine and chocolate, and soon your hands seek to rid one another of your clothes. your trembling hands fumble with the buttons of his chef coat but your diligence is rewarded by the exclusive viewing of a shirtless Chef Kennedy. whatever you dreamed in your fantasies couldn’t compare to the scrumptious, chiseled man in front of you.

your dress is easily pushed up and discarded onto the carpet. the chill of the cold mahogany table you laid upon touching your heated skin. he raises his eyebrows a bit as he notices the damp patch formed on the gusset of your lacy panties. “you know,” leon begins, his voice raspy with lust, “a good chef is only as good as his preparation… wouldn’t you agree?” you’re a bit confused but as he drips a bit of warm chocolate from the fondue pot on your breast, you begin to get the idea. “y-yes” you manage to moan out as leon’s tongue slowly licks the chocolate off. his mouth wrapping around your nipple and making sure no melted chocolate was left behind, but he pulls away. you whine at the loss of contact, “yes, what?” he asks, tauntingly. “yes, c-chef!” you cry out as he drips more warm chocolate across your breasts and torso. he smirks, pleased with himself as he continues to lick thick stripes across your body, kitten licking the most sensitive spots only to work you up more.

shivers roll down your spine at the sensation and arousal is now leaking down your thighs. the combination of warm chocolate and Leon’s tongue would be enough to send anyone over the edge, but a true genius can alter his recipe to make it even better and chef kennedy was nothing if not creative. pulling an ice cube from one of your finished drinks, he gently teases it across your inner thighs — just testing the waters — and by the way you squirm beneath him, he can tell it’s working. now the warm chocolate across your breasts was juxtaposed against the cold ice cube leon was dragging up and down your soaked panties, and the dual sensations each fighting for dominance of your body’s pleasure. but leon could win against any element. he was the only thought in your clouded mind and he was starting to feel left out.

leon took it upon himself to dribble a little chocolate across his collarbone and chest. “be a good girl for me and clean up this mess?” he coos, grabbing you by the hair and bringing your face towards his chest. you mimicked his earlier patterns on his own body — small, teasing licks followed by long, lucious strokes for bigger areas. after all, you couldn’t miss a drop of it. you took the opportunity to suck a few small love bites into his chest — a smart move given the pants he lets slip. he rewards the good behavior by finally slipping off your underwear. “share a four-star gourmet meal with you when you were keeping the best dish hidden from me?” he tsks as he lowers mouth towards your leaking cunt, the ice now almost fully melted.

he starts with gentle kisses across your inner thighs and slowly moves to press a few taunting ones to your swollen clit. then he tastes you and the guttural groan released from his chest reverberates on your body's innermost parts, causing you to cry out and reach for his hair. he’s like a man starved, determined to engorge himself in your juices. your eyes screw shut in pleasure and small whimpers leave your mouth at his vast tongue strokes. if painters could paint a canvas the way leon’s tongue could brush against your cunt so thoughtfully, then artists would be the richest people in the world. your first orgasm rolls through your body quickly, a heat as hot as molten lava lopes through your veins as you cry out for him.

he drinks in your first orgasm, licking his lips a bit with pride. “you know, a good chef always tastes their food” he teases, before pulling you in for another kiss. you could taste the remnants of your orgasm on his lips and when you disconnect, a string of spit still connects you. “you ready for more, my sweet?” he asks, his hands going to the waistband of his pants. your mind is hazy, and your hand rubs his toned arms reassuringly. “kiss me a little more, then i’ll be ready” you smirk, and he obliges. peppering sweet kisses across your forehead, cheeks, neck, nose and even on your lips for good measure. when you tell him you’re ready, he quickly shoved his pants down to his ankles.

chef leon was well endowed and his cock bowed upward to smack against his stomach. it was clear he had enjoyed the foreplay just as much as you did — evident by the precum leaking from the tip of his erection. to be fair, you didn’t have much time to admire him. he was needy and as soon as he pumped himself a few times, he was already teasing himself on the slick folds of your entrance. you gasped as the tip rolled against your abused and puffy clit, bucking into him and ready for more. he slowly sheaths himself into your gummy walls and is pleased when you’re already squeezing around him.

with your permission, he begins to fuck into you at a comfortable pace. the lewd sounds of skin slapping on skin and symphony of your moans now drown out the pleasant classical piano music — not that you were complaining. things are made even better when he takes one of your legs upon his shoulders, his cock now perfectly scraping your g-spot and coaxing your second orgasm from you with ease. leon knows he won’t last long, your tight pussy was milking his cock with each of his thrusts and the way your breasts bounced to the rhythm of his pace — you were so pretty. as you feel his movements get sloppier. his hips are stuttering and his muscles are wound so tightly, you fear they may snap. then he releases with a loud moan, coating your walls in white, sticky cum. and after a few minutes of post-orgasmic bliss, he pulls out and says, “you know my favorite dessert is a creampie.”

you blush, covering your face in your hands and shaking side to side while leon admires the mixture of his cum and your juices leak from your cunt. while leon takes care to wipe you both off with a warm, clean towel, you make eye contact with those pretty blues of his and say, “so… i’ll see you at work tomorrow then?”

kinktober taglist (xoxo); @kennedyswhore @notrattus @scar-crossedlvrs @dmitriene @roseglazedlens @emilzke @xxacademy @notrattus @ovaryacted @diamanthav @c4b3r1a @yourallyse @elfven-blog

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