Did you really think that Leon wouldn’t play the long game?

If he had to guess, he’s probably spent more than a few months in this dust-filled basement, forced to abide by your twisted rules so long as you kept his ropes secure. Pleas of being allowed freedom had been laid to rest, shot down by your insistence that there was no place better meant for him than at your side.

You were lucky you weren’t a total ugly broad. Sure, you were fucking insane, but Leon wasn’t all there either—Because who would glamorize a situation like this? Who eagerly awaited the perfect moment to strike—observing the chinks in your armor so attentively to unfold a sick plan—like him?

All it took were a few nauseatingly heated encounters to lower your own defenses, feeding into your ignorance and making his restraints looser. There was a point in time where you’d entirely forgotten to retighten them after finding debauchery, just as Leon had been hoping…

When you had entered the basement to check up on him, you found nothing but an isolated chair. It’s not like he could’ve escaped, you’re certain you would’ve heard him trying to open the door? And there were no windows, either, which only meant one thing.

He was there in the room with you. Unbound.

…The realization had only just dawned upon you when a hand suddenly covered your mouth, forcing your head back against a broad chest. “Gotcha,” Leon breathed, your sharp movements proving to be fruitless in the face of his tighter grasp.

“You’ve had your fun, don’t you think? Doing what you want, all scot-free.” He derided. Leon’s other arm continued coiling itself around you, pressing further down onto your stomach more than what your body was comfortable with. “But now? Now, it’s my turn. And you’re gonna take what I give you..”