#ft. leon

[cfrevelries]

text//:: leon 🎸🤘🏾[@hecticlife]

shyla: Wanna go hang out somewhere? I'm bored. shyla: Also work sucked.

[cybermuses]

status: closed location: @hecticlife place

as salem approached leon's apartment food in hand she wondered why she was feeling butterflies in her stomach. things had been rocky between the two of them for a while now and it seemed like every encounter they had since salem's arrival in valpo resulted in some sort of conflict. the least she could do was try to smooth things over and apologize. she knocked on the door three times before he answered and realized it probably would have been smart ahead of time to let him know she was coming over but out of habit she figured it would be fine. a smile came across her face as he opened the door. "i bought a peace offering, pastel de choclo to be exact." salem knew it was his favorite dish. "please tell me you haven't eaten already?"

[elifalvey]

LOCATION: The Jagged Yard.

WHEN: Late night, approximately a week after the Spring Extravaganza.

WHO: Elijah & Leon ( @leonwozniak ).

Now that they were a more consistent part of each other’s lives, it wasn’t unoften that Elijah glanced down at his phone to find a new message from Leon staring back at him. Usually sometime in the afternoon, shortly after Lucky Joe’s closed its doors, and usually in the form of a voice note — on account of it being easier to air his grievances of the day with his words instead of typing everything out, or something like that. Eli never minded them. He found entertainment in them, actually; it was amusing to hear about how some delinquent teenager who didn’t know whether he wanted plain or veggie cream cheese on his bagel pissed Le off so badly that he needed to take five, or the interesting stories of frequent customers that always seemed to come in with a new installment of gossip to share. On most days he’d offer a quip or two back — because there was only so much he could say after approximately five minutes and thirty-seven seconds of not just any rambling, but Leon rambling, which was an entirely different beast — and it’d start a friendly conversation, rinse and repeat. After the kayak race, however . . . when the voice note entailed too many vivid descriptions of an ‘outrageous French woman shitting on their coffee — and fuck’s sake everyone knows Lucky Joe’s isn’t around for the coffee’ . . . well, Elijah couldn’t think of much to say. Not a single thing, really. Once the note was over, and the only thing that was running through his mind was Kaya, he simply put his phone down instead of responding with anything at all. Which was unusual, sure, but what else was he supposed to do? Laugh, as if he had the capacity to find it funny? No, no, he couldn’t do that. The problem came about when putting his phone down for a little while led to days without conjuring up any sort of reply. There’d been notes that came after that he couldn’t even bring himself to open, much less listen to. And he knew, deep down, ignoring one of his closest friends was shitty, but that didn’t necessarily stop him. Everyone thought he was chock-full of shitty decisions, anyway, what was one more? It wasn’t until he peered up through his lashes as he was tucked away in a booth at the Jagged Yard to find the very man he’d been unintentionally-intentionally avoiding standing right in front of him that the weight of his guilt started to hit him. He didn’t offer a hello, nor did he offer an apology. Rather, he quietly admitted, “I meant to text you back.”

[jawbrkrs]

" I told you not to fall in love with me. " devil-may-care glint sparked in her eyes, knowing she'd always have him hooked. despite the control she thought she possessed he'd always have an iron grip around her whether she loved it or not. it was a dangerous game they played, a dance on the edge of a precipice, so masterfully executed with deceit and finesse, that their love story was always the talk of every gossip post and t.witter trend. this time, she was captured in a photograph with another man, a stranger to him — just another pawn maneuvered on their chessboard to keep him reeled in. " you jealous? " words dripped for cherry glossed lips, laced with a playfullness that only he had the pleasure of hearing. | @intcxications

[vuotriste]

@tragiclike !

the city lights are nothing but a distant glow from where she stands. perched upon the highest floor on a building that towered even above the clouds, it is hard to see what lays beneath her feet. joi has flown so high for so long, she doesn't think that she would ever want to come back down anyway.

her eyes follow the long line of cars that weave up and down through the clouds, each of them meandering closer and closer to her own building. she wonders which one leon is in, if he's here, if he's thought about her since they're last meeting. how uncharacteristic. you can live a thousand lives and still somehow be caught up on one.

she shifts on her feet when her doors open - expectant. it is a let down when the first face she sees is her assistants, though a smile is closeby when she sees the towering figure that is walking in behind her.

" leon, " she greets, perking up significantly. " where have you been ? " i missed you. " don't tell me the androids downstairs got to you, too. "

[cybermuses]

@hecticlife

Cousin Cousine, 1975

[vaaaaaiolet]

Anxiety left you sleepless all night. Leon figures his favorite dream of you might help.

mdni CIAO CHILDREN!! f / m smut w established relationship. put bluntly, leon fucks the worry out of you 😭 he talks you through sex by retelling a dream, tiny bit of character study, PRAISE!! TONS of fingering, 0.5 sec of cockwarming, light angst, p in v w/ a happy ending iykwim, aftercare and i love you's awww. also strawberries 🍓

a / n: req fic from my event!! i took the premise from isle of strawberries by edwin raphael and you can find a playlist for this fic here. motivational smut is a first for me LMFAO but i hope this works w your vision, anon <3 also PEE AFTER SEX YOU GUYS

word count: 2.5k // read on ao3

The 5 AM sun shines rays through the cracks in your plan. You thought you’d been convincing enough with your face pancake-flat against the pillow and your left arm thrown out of the blanket just so. You’d even made sure you had a foot poking into Leon’s side the way he always grumps about, but somehow, your boyfriend always seems to see right through you.

Just like now. 

A busybody poke on your shoulder. “Sweetheart,” follows a drowsy whisper, “what’re you doing?”

Sleeping since last night, thank you very much.

“No use playing possum. You haven’t moved an inch since we went to bed and you, ma’am, can’t sleep still to save your life. C’mere,” and you’re tugged to Leon’s side of the bed, the top of your head peppered with slow, sleepy kisses as he hugs an arm around your middle. “Did you sleep at all tonight?”

You clutch his forearm like a safety bar on a rollercoaster. “A little.”

“Enough?”

“Um…” 

Leon kisses his teeth. He’s usually the one on the receiving end of these questions, but he’s picked up a couple things from you. “Too hot? Too cold? Anything I can get you?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just can’t fall asleep.”

A quiet sigh from you, a hum of understanding from him.

“Because you’ve been thinking again.” He asks if you want to talk about it.

“It’s just a bad night,” you mumble, playing absentmindedly with his fingers. “Overwhelmed. Been getting into my head about everything I should be doing but don’t. I feel like I’m letting everyone down all the time.” 

In the champagne pink of the early morning light pouring through the bedroom window, your eyes trace the corded muscle of Leon’s arm around you – a testament to the strength it takes to do his job every day. There’s scars here, burn marks there, a plum-hued bruise.

Your words stumble to a halt. Embarrassed color rises to your cheeks. 

The matter is that scars from his missions to the ends of the earth litter the chest cradling your back right now. Leon must be sore and aching, listening to you whine like a child with too much food on your plate. What could be keeping you up at night when he shoulders your worst nightmares for a living? All while you lay cuddled and coddled? You don’t know the first thing about worry, the paralysis in his bones that must pale to yours.

Guilt creeps up your spine, and Leon frowns at your sudden silence. You’re retreating into a shell he’s called home too many times. He won’t have any of that with you. 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” he soothes, smoothing back your hair. “I’m still here. You don’t wanna talk right now?” 

You let go of his arm and burrow into your pillow, mumble about how you like sleeping late on weekends anyway.

A scoff sounds behind you. “Sleep late, my ass.” 

Leon’s arm comes circling back over your ribs in an instant. He squeezes you so tight to his chest that you feel his heart thump behind your back, and you can’t help the unexpected laugh that bubbles up your throat when he lets go. It’s his favorite reflex of yours.

“If you won’t talk, I will.” Leon presses a kiss to your cheek. “Gonna distract you for a bit, sweetheart. Humor me?”

“Hm?”

“I wanna tell you about my favorite dream. You’re in it.”

You can’t pretend that doesn’t catch your attention like lightning to a rod. Leon doesn’t dream much, not besides the nightmares that have him scrambling to throw off the covers in the middle of the night. 1998 hangs thick in the air of your bedroom some days, but for him to have a dream where you don’t die for a change? That’s new. 

So is his hand starting to creep under your sleep shirt, playful circles tracing on the soft skin below your navel. Part of his distraction strategy. A successful one, if the skip in your heart rate has anything to do with it.

“This okay?” he rasps.

More than. 

You reach behind, cradling his cheek to kiss him a proper hello; allow yourself an anticipatory inhale when Leon’s hand dives under the waistband of your shorts. It takes exactly three seconds for his middle finger to pinpoint the pearl of your clit, and he circles it twice, maddeningly slow, before sliding right under to trace along the seam of your entrance. 

Leon keeps the pressure light. He needs your head clear so you listen. 

“It always starts the same.” He shifts his hips so yours widen for him. “I’m standing in the middle of a huge field, a strawberry farm. There’s nothing around for miles, just rows of bushes full of berries and storm clouds in the distance. I find an empty basket in my hand.”

You imagine your mountain of a boyfriend holding a basket like Strawberry Shortcake. Adorable. “You dream about picking strawberries?” you giggle, arching your back to fit more comfortably against him, and your consideration earns you a searing dip of his finger into your pooling arousal. 

“That,” Leon chuckles, “and a nagging, sinking feeling that I should be doing something but I can’t.”

Oh. 

“Mhm. It hits me that I have to pick as many strawberries as I can before the storm rolls in, and I can’t even move, sweetheart.”

You swallow the returning lump in your throat. Push down a sigh that was building at the upward roll of his fingertip inside you. Leon tuts at your effort, coaxing the sound out anyway with a press of the spongy spot he knows is tucked at the back of your walls. You crumple at the delicious nudge; it leaves you open to welcome another finger into your warmth.

“But this is a good dream because,” Leon smiles at your next gasp, “then I see you at the edge of the field standing next to a little house, waving at me.” 

He scissors you open like he’s got all the time in the world. You clutch the corner of your pillow when you hear it through the comforter: the soft, rhythmic squelch of his fingers curling into your cunt.

Pretending he can’t hear your whimpered little curses as he coos in your ear, “There you go, listen to that,” Leon continues. “That’s when I start thinking. There’s no way I can save all these strawberries in time. You’re standing there, smiling at me without a clue there’s a storm brewing, and suddenly all I can think about is getting you into the house before you get hurt.”

His lesson becomes one of endurance the more he talks. The fingers pumping into your pussy melt your brain into mush that’s chanting, more, more! Exactly the root of your problem.

“So then I- oh, poor baby. This isn’t enough?” 

Shit. You forgot you talk in your sleep. And apparently when you get fingered too. 

“Guess I can’t blame you. I get distracted in the dream too, fuck.” There’s a pause, a sputtering stop to the lovely fullness when Leon pulls his fingers out and promptly sucks them off. 

Even a worm will turn; you certainly do. You whine Leon’s name when he makes a show of it, gazing at you with half-moon eyes and a boyish grin pulling at his lips. “What, it’s my fault you taste better than the strawberries did?” 

No, for leaving you hanging. You were paying attention — maybe a bit too much.

“It was you, by the way,” Leon chuckles, lifting the comforter so his knees can bracket your thighs. 

“I distracted you in the dream?” you gasp, sliding your hands up his shirt.

“In the best way, angel. You helped me get moving again.”

The peachy light of dawn caramelizes gold as Leon climbs on top of you. It doesn’t warm the bedroom quite yet; Leon makes sure the comforter is tucked over your bare skin after he finishes kicking off his pajama pants. He’s back to murmuring sweet nothings, gently tugging your shirt over your shoulders so he can kiss down the swell of your breasts. You’re so toasty under the covers that the goosebumps now speckling your chest are entirely his fault. 

“I remember you picking a few berries off a bush,” Leon looks fondly up at you under golden lashes, pressing a gentle kiss over your heart, “and you just looked so content eating them. I was fretting over saving the whole field and you were fine with a handful.”

You’re itching to ask: but the storm’s still coming, isn’t it? Thunder, rain, your aching cunt dripping onto the sheets right under him. 

Leon is all too happy to answer. 

One hand cradles the back of your head so he can drop his mouth onto yours, leaving the other free to slip under the blankets, rub consolation over the hood of your clit, and finally, finally, notch the swollen head of his cock at your entrance. You cry out, clutching at Leon’s hair when he sheaths himself in a buttery-smooth stroke – as if it could be any other way with how you’ve melted like chocolate in his hands. You both gasp at the stretch.

Leon’s jaw works as he kisses you, savoring you. Spit bridges your mouths in between split-second gulps of air. Your heart thumps against your ribcage like you’re hanging off a precipice, no difference in the dizzying drop that waits ahead. His length sits adjusting inside the squeeze of your plush walls. 

Leon’s sentences come out chopped and desperate as he alternates sucking berry-toned love bites between your breasts, and he admits, “I don’t save the all the strawberries.”

You wheeze as if you’ve dashed across the field yourself. “No?”

“Just enough to last us the storm. Fuck the rest, figure it’ll grow back. Only need to focus on what matters – getting enough for you – so I pick a couple,” the thick of his cock is suffocating when it’s this still, “run,” Leon pants at the first snap of his hips against yours, outrunning the storm all over again, “and pull you inside the house before lightning strikes.”

Electric pleasure curls up from the base of your spine, spreads to your head and flickers down to your toes as Leon starts pounding into your pussy. No room in your chest for anxiety to linger when your eyes are rolling skyward. The edges of your vision melt into vignette as your lover sinks into you again and again. 

Tunnel vision. 

“Keep those pretty eyes open. Focus on what matters,” he repeats in a frenzied whisper, and the tunnel closes in.

All you see are Leon’s eyes. Smack dab in the middle of his blown out pupils is your reflection.

That’s it.

Coherency goes flying out the window with all your brainpower used up to connect the dots. “Leon, you-!”

“Tell me what you see, sweetheart,” he breathes sharply. “I know you can.”

You beg for mercy at each dig of his blunt cockhead. “Me, I get it, fuck! Please- just let me come!”

Course he can, he just has to drill something else into you first. 

“Need to hear you say it,” Leon grits. Nips at the base of your neck as your nails claw stinging holds on his shoulders. “Shit, I’ll make you see stars, don’t worry, I just need to – oh, you’re so fucking tight! – get it in your head. You can’t shut down on me.”

You thrash under him, make more space for bruising kisses to bloom up your neck. “But you’ve had it worse,” you sob out, overwhelmed. 

“How else do you think I know?”

He’s not letting you head off into your own storm alone. Not when you’ve saved him from his.

“Tell me you’ll let me in next time you get in your head, and I’ll make you come. I’ll make you come so fucking good, baby,” Leon hisses, stealing one last kiss from your panting lips. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

“I will.”

And you ought to thank your lucky stars your levees don’t hold. 

It starts with spiraling cracks. Leon reaching down to press his thumb over your swollen clit. One shaky thrust away from dislodging the last brick holding you together. A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it flutter of your cunt, choked breaths torn from his throat when the silken clutch of your walls sends him into that final crescendo. 

Leon’s fraying at the edges, obsessive in how rolls his thumb at the bundle of nerves that make you shriek his name, and you, hand in hand with him, finally let the swelling tsunami in the pit of your stomach topple your walls. 

Turns out he’s right. Stars explode across the night sky when your eyes squeeze shut. 

You can’t pay attention to much except the rolling tide of pleasure. Leon’s soon spilling into you, his brow pinched as he blindly works his spend into your cunt under the covers. His forehead glistens with sweat, hell, your baby hairs are a dripping mess, but strangely, you think you’ll spend the rest of your life chasing this warmth again. 

Your heart’s never felt more weightless. 

Glowing seconds sail by. Leon’s shaking arms eventually give way and he collapses onto your chest. You let out an “oof!” at the drop. 

“And then the dream ends,” you hear him sigh, eyelids fluttering shut.

About time, you think, smiling as you brush a thumb over his cheekbone. “Then you wake up?”

“No.” Leon cracks open a sapphire eye and grins. “Sometimes we do this.”

In the little hou- Oh. “Fuck you,” you laugh.

“It’s my favorite for a lot of reasons!” 

He sits up, keeping his touch featherlight when he pulls himself out from between your candied thighs. Tiny aftershocks jerk your thighs once, twice, and Leon takes the time to whisper soft apologies when he reaches for a tissue on the bedside table. 

“I meant it back there, y’know?” he hums, gently wiping off the mess between your legs. “I hate seeing you so hard on yourself.”

“It just feels like I’m making a big deal out of nothing. Especially when you’ve been through worse,” you mumble, picking at the covers.  

The tissue gets tossed into the trash, and Leon shoots you a small smile. “Worse to you, maybe. To me, the worst thing I’ve seen is watching you lose your spark and not being able to help.”

“You really think so?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I love you.”

So you remember your promise. 

You tell him you love him too, no more secrets to keep in your head. The bedroom blooms warmer than you remember it ever being, a little slice of summer straight out of both your dreams.

You remember the strawberries from the farmer’s market in the kitchen, and that Leon makes killer Sunday pancakes.

You remember how much you love afternoon catnaps with your limbs tangled between his. Infinite possibilities pile high like the papers on your work desk. So much to get started.

Focus on what matters. The rest will grow back.

You turn the other cheek, and kiss your lover on the mouth.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[dollsizes]

innocent affections, ft. the resident evil men⎯⎯⎯⎯leon kennedy, chris redfield, carlos oliveira, ethan winters.

leon kennedy thinks everything you do is endearing. you’re a sense of security he doesn’t think he’s ever had—the only flower that doesn’t wilt at his touch. standoffish as he may seem; leon cares. empathy runs through him rampantly, even if he hides it better as the years go by. to be so intensely affected by all the tragedy around him, also gives him the ability to love you completely. so, if you asked him about the habits you can’t seem to drop and tell him to pinpoint a favourite, he might just blank for a second. don’t take it the wrong way.

chris redfield is a whirlwind of emotions. vocal as he may be, he still finds it difficult to express to you just how much you mean to him. perhaps seeing the sky fall down on the front lines does that to a person—scares him from speaking you into the world; afraid to materialise the you he’s dreamt up in fear that you too will be taken from him. yet when you hold him, he’s the one that feels solidified. to be in your arms is to live there forever in just a few moments. chris redfield isn’t one for sentiment, but he swears he can still feel your fingers in his hair a thousand miles from you.

carlos oliveira, charged and filled with passion. carlos loves you like it’s the end of the world, which ironically for us, it just might be. he embodies ‘puppy love’—dotes on you every chance he gets. he takes comfort in the soft teasing and the gentler nights. his heart dies as he picks you up and spins you around the room, swallowing your laughter like he survives on it. carlos isn’t a religious man by any means, but how could you deny a god in the presence of an angel.

ethan winters. ethan is there for you for the long run—takes a glance at you and leaves everything else up to fate. (it should be noted that in this particular context, ‘fate’ includes excessive internet stalking and cheesy forum pickup lines.) so when he’s got you, ethan loves you like a meadow river. he walks by you to the end of the stream—dangles his feet over the cliff as he watches you fall and engulf the world in your element. even on the stormy days, who can deny the beauty of the sea?

© pncessa ﹒ tumblr

[mayanoelle]

Maya smiled warmly at his reaction, appreciating that he’d given her food a chance and didn’t outright shun it for simply being new. She’d definitely had worse interactions with Caffélicious patrons before. “I’m glad you enjoyed it!” she said. “Here’s a coupon for 20% off your next order at Latte Love, you know, if you visit again.” She followed his gesture and her eyes landed on the coffee shop across the street, catching his teasing smile. “A little friendly competition keeps us all on our toes, right?” she said with a light laugh. “I know it keeps me sharp at least.” Maya glanced back at the man, and nodded. “I definitely hope you’ll come back and try more of our offerings. We’re always experimenting with new recipes and I love getting feedback. Even if you don’t come inside.”

leon had never been a big fan of pastries; he did admire the work, though, because that was a talent he had always outsourced in his line of work. it took time, and dedication. his bread guy always work up at 4 am to make the best brioche, and that had always stuck with him.

leon wasn't much immune to service people's charms, and he found himself nodding alongside the young woman describing the experience and the food. she'd never know it, but he did relate to what she was saying. "hmm," was his first reaction to the scone, then some more nodding. "those are very good, i'll give you that. very though competition they have." leon pointed to the coffee shop in front with a teasing smile.

[elifalvey]

LOCATION: Starview Drive In.

WHEN: Friday, April 5th. Pre-moving showing.

WHO: Elijah & Leon ( @leonwozniak ).

“Oh, come on. You can’t tell me you’re actually going to sit and watch Migration,” Elijah shouted across the short distance the two men stood from one another, each behind their respective cornhole boards. He’d decided to come to the drive in theater a little earlier than his family, with the promise of live music, a barbeque and Leon’s presence. The party game was a bonus, not that he was proving himself to be very good at it; two other red-colored beanbags splayed along the ground after having missed the hole entirely, and the third was being juggled delicately in his hand like he was gearing up to throw. He tossed it and it missed, too, hitting his friend’s ankles rather than anywhere it was supposed to. God damn depth perception . . . “I think a bit of the respect that I had for you just shriveled up and died, man. Ghostbusters is right there.” His hands found his hips as he waited for Leon to complete his throws of the blue ones, gently rocking from side to side in anticipation.

[residentfurry]

yes...serrenedy date...

[cfrevelries]

"Well, it's a saying now, because I said it, and thus is a saying," Shyla laughed. "Besides, you shouldn't judge what I say before I've had my morning coffee, it's unfair!" She playfully elbowed her friend. "It's also not my fault English is such a needlessly complex language..."

lf there's a place where he bumps into people regularly, it's definitely whatever coffee shop he's closer to at the moment. "i'm sure that's not the saying," leon chuckles, an amused face and a big grin. having conversations when waiting in line for an americano is the best way to start the day. "or any saying for that matter."

@palmviewstarters

[papaleon]

I'm Still Full of the Love You Want

pairing: RE4R!Leon Kennedy x afab!Reader

wc: 2.4k

summary: Leon has come back from Spain and, on the advice of his therapist, he's learning to associate the bad memories with something good. That something happens to be you.

content: leon gets cuffed, p in v, oral (reader receiving), no protection (wrap it up guys), i just replayed resi4r and i can't get over leon being chained to the ceiling (inspo), leon is a good boy

18+ MDNI, this is literally just pwp

a/n: please be gentle, i haven't written fic in years, this post has a lot of my writing firsts including the perspective and the smut. it has been sorta proofread, all mistakes are my own. enjoy! <3

Leon let out a deep groan as you moved to straddle his unclothed thighs. The handcuffs you had just finished latching to the headboard clinked as he tested their strength. See, Leon had just returned from his mission in Spain. He was, of course, tight-lipped and bound by a very intimidating NDA to keep the details quiet. But, even though he wasn’t able to share the grisly details with you, you could read Leon like a book. He always wore his pain, anger, and anxiety in his eyes, as much as he’d hate to admit it. 

Right now though, his face only told of pleasure, and that was enough for you. You offered him a soft smile as you ground down onto the meat of his muscular thigh, pressing down just enough for him to feel your want. 

“C’mon baby, please.”

Leon’s work mandated therapist, Dr. Woolf, had recommended he work to associate the horrors and trauma he’d experienced with something positive. You were certain that Dr. Woolf did not intend those new associations to be with sex, in fact you had a few qualms with the whole thing but it was the only thing that seemed to help Leon. After years of witnessing the love of your life suffer with his own memories, day and night, you figured you’d do anything to help him. 

So here you both were, blue moonlight kissing warm candle light as it danced over both of your bodies. You had just finished stripping Leon down and cuffing him, wrists over his head, after a very lengthy discussion about limits and how this tied back to Spain. 

This wasn’t that bad, baby, I swear. You had stared at him as he spoke, looking for any hint of a lie. My gear was taken and we were chained to the ceiling. It could have been worse. He smirked at that. You had feigned indignation and lightly smacked his chest. This you could deal with. You knew he suffered much worse but you tried to leave your worries unspoken. 

He looked beautiful like this though, you thought as you ran your eyes over him. Leon Kennedy certainly had a reputation that preceded him. A rookie cop turned hardened agent, a bit of a sarcastic, stoic dickhead if you pissed him off, and a selfless protector. Someone you would want on your team but certainly never wanted to get on the bad side of. But you knew more. He had lived through so much strife and hardship, he was hidden behind years of trauma and survival instincts, but deep down he was a person who longed to be cared for and understood. You were more than happy to give that to him. 

“Darling, I need-“ Leon’s request stuck in his throat, hips kicking up, cock jumping as you ground down hard against his thigh. The pressure on your clit pulled a small sigh out of you. You started to pick up your pace, riding his thigh in earnest now. 

“What do you need, hmm?” You smiled wide at Leon, his hands flexing as he tried to move to touch you. He let out a frustrated groan. 

“Need to see you, s-since I can’t touch.” You dropped your eyes, scanning over Leon’s naked body, still covered in scars and healing bruises. Your gaze stopped at his cock, hard and lying up against his toned stomach. You could see how flushed the tip looked, slick pre-cum dripping, pooling where his cock met skin. Your mouth watered, you simply couldn’t help it. A very vocal part of you wanted to lean down, lap up his mess and take him into your mouth. Later, you promised yourself. 

You, of course, were still dressed. You wanted to give Leon a show. These ‘re-associations’ were to be as involved and lengthy as possible, Dr. Woolf had mentioned. Anything to give Leon’s mind more incentive to replace the bad with the good.

“You wanna see me?” You teased as you ran your hands along your body, fingers teasing under the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing - stolen from Leon’s drawer.

“Fuck, yeah please l-let me see you angel,” Leon nodded fervently, his words were starting to slur together slightly. You always liked seeing Leon lose his poise and control, your strong-willed boyfriend squirming and begging underneath you. It didn’t happen often but you relished in the moments Leon would let you in like that, let you take care of him, show you his trust. “…shit baby you look so good in my clothes.” 

“Okay baby, you’re such a good boy for asking.” You smirked as you swung your legs over to kneel next to Leon, needing to remove your lounge clothes. He whined and bucked his hips at the loss of contact, your own slick shiny and cooling on his thigh. Leon just stared at you hungrily. He’d been so patient for you, so good, so you teased the hem of the t-shirt before pulling it off in one quick movement, dropping it off the side of the bed onto the floor. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Leon’s eyes darted to your chest, taking in the sight. You blushed lightly. Leon always looked at you like he wanted to devour you whole, like you were the only other person in the entire world, like he loved and desired nothing more than you. Wanting to hide your blushing cheeks, you leaned down quickly to kiss him, chaste and soft given the current circumstances. The chains rattled again as he moved to reach for you. 

“You’re so good to me,” You whispered as you sat up to pull your sleep shorts and panties down and off. You shuddered as the cold air met your soaked cunt. Leon went slack jawed, his cock jumping slightly off his belly. 

“‘Course sweet thing,” his voice was gruff, filled with want as he stared at your dripping core. You discarded your shorts onto the floor next to your top before moving to straddle Leon’s hips this time. You firmly dropped down to drag your slick cunt against Leon’s cock, the tip bumping against your clit. Leon moaned low and deep, his look of shock immediately replaced by his eyes rolling back into his head. Your own breathing started getting ragged, you wanted nothing more than to slip him inside but you had to control yourself, you really wanted to do this right, to make this last. 

“C’mon baby, ride me,” Leon’s hips pushed up, attempting to slide in whenever you bucked your hips forward. You shuddered, slowly but surely losing the will to tease. It was especially hard when Leon was looking up at you like that, like he was about to cry. “W-wanna make you come.” 

“Yeah?” You groaned loudly, losing the rest of any willpower you had before reaching down to line up his thick cock with your dripping hole. You slammed your hips down hard, a sharp smack mingled with the loud moans of you both. It burned, the sudden stretch, but that didn’t matter when Leon filled you up perfectly, you just couldn’t help it, you craved that feeling. You could see a flash of frustration in his eyes as you slowly started fucking yourself on him. You could feel him shift beneath you, feet planted on the mattress so he could find his own pace. You leaned forward, back arched as your chest met his as you tucked your face into his neck. 

“Thank you,  thank you, thank you-“ Leon chanted softly, groaning as he thrust up into your tight, wet cunt. The sounds were obscene, you felt impossibly wet, Leon’s pre-cum mixing with your slick. 

You finally gained your wits enough to push back into his thrusts, angling your own hips just right so each thrust hit the right spot. You had heard Leon wince as your nails dug into his shoulders, but it barely registered as you barrelled toward your own orgasm, hanging onto Leon like a lifeline.  

“Gonna … gonna come baby, you’re gonna make me come,” you felt Leon’s cock throb inside you as his own thrusts grew erratic. “Unlock the cuffs f’me darling, wanna touch” he squeezed his eyes shut, and let out a sigh. You stilled your hips, leaning over to the nightstand to grab the small key. Leon took advantage of your position to lap and bite at your nipple. You leaned into the sensation.

“L-leon please,” you reached over to unlock one of the cuffs finally allowing Leon’s hands down. He remained limp, pliant under you. 

That is, until you unlocked the second cuff. 

He pushed himself up quickly, slipping out of you, rolling you both over until he was firmly planted between your thighs and had you pinned down by your wrists. You were about to whine from the emptiness when you felt him slide back into you, bottoming out in one quick motion. 

Leon set a frantic pace from there, pushing your knees together and leaning over to press them to your chest, his eyes squeezed shut and eyebrows furrowed as you took him even deeper. You could feel the tip of his cock nudge against your cervix with every thrust, sending small sparks of pain through your abdomen, but it only made the fire in your belly grow hotter, made your skin tingle all over. 

“Ah, ah, ah, fuck, Leon!” You bit through gritted teeth, losing all the poise and confidence you had when you controlled the pace. Leon’s fingers intertwined with yours and you held on for dear life, unable to do 

“so fuh-fucking good for me baby, taking me so well,” Leon moaned. It took all the energy you had left to open your eyes just to see Leon lean closer, his soft hair falling over his brow and his jaw locked, willing every bit of his body not to let go yet, he wasn’t done with you. He leaned even closer to kiss you. “You were meant to take this cock right? Only you. Your pussy is so tight huh, angel? Fuck you were made for me weren’t you?” 

All you could do was nod dumbly, squeezing your eyes shut as the fire raged inside both of you. Leon was relentless, fucking into you hard and fast, like a man starved, every thrust hitting the perfect spot inside you. The pressure was building, and you couldn’t really hear what you were saying anymore, you were just babbling about how perfect your cock is, and fuck me, I love you. 

Leon’s pace started to falter, just as you felt your orgasm approaching, but that didn’t matter, as you felt him move to pull out. But you simply couldn’t have that. “No, no, no, no! Come in me Leon, baby, please!” You whined, squirming underneath him. “Wanna feel you, puh-lease, fuck!” 

Leon growled lowly, “You want my cum darling?” There was no more teasing as he lined his cock back up with your puffy, fucked out cunt. Yes, and please, fell out of your mouth like a chant even before he was finished the question. 

“Come in me please, Leon, ‘m close, so close.” And who was he to deny you a single thing? Leon grunted as he started up his brutal pace again, only managing several more thrusts before slamming into you, bottoming out, as he fucked his cum deep inside you. You clenched hard at the throbbing warmth, your soft, tight cunt milking every last drop out of Leon. 

“That’s right, good baby. Take it all. So good just f’me, hmm?” You moaned, nodding weakly, still trying to push your hips against his. The fire raged on in you, your cunt was begging for release. 

“Wanna come, make me come Leon, please, need it.” You whined, putting on the best pout you could manage. Leon chuckled lightly at the sight before pulling out and letting your legs down gently. You were about to complain when Leon leaned in to leave kisses all over the column of your throat, down to your breasts and over your soft stomach before he laid himself down between your legs. 

Your hands reached out to tangle in his hair as he started suckling little marks in the crease of your thigh, so close to where you needed him. 

“Duh-don’t tease,” you whispered, tugging lightly on his strands and bucking your hips up, hoping he’d take the hint. And so he did. You felt yourself melting into the mattress from the very first slow drag of his tongue. Leon seemed content fucking his cum even further into you with his tongue. You sighed and moaned and the fire in your belly burned bright again. You felt his fingers run their way up the inside of your thigh. He pushed two fingers inside, replacing his tongue, crooking them and fucking you, hard and fast. You felt the pressure building quickly, and your cunt squeezed down hard. 

“Gonna come Leon, you’re gonna make me co-“ Leon chose that very moment to latch his mouth over your poor, neglected clit and suck. You finally felt that heat snap as you came, gushing out all over Leon’s hand and face. He continued fucking you through it, the wet sounds positively obscene as your sensitive cunt twitched and dripped. Leon didn’t stop until you were twitching from overstimulation. You had to drag his face away by the iron grip you still had on his hair. He winced lightly as he moved up the bed to drape his body over you. “Sorry,” you whispered, easing up on his hair, followed by “Thank you.” 

“No, thank you!” Leon said as he nuzzled into your neck. You both just laid there, panting for a while, locked in a warm embrace. You dozed in and out of sleep, waking just enough to feel Leon starting to move his hips and feeling something warm and hard pressing up against your thigh.

“Really Leon?” You mumbled, amused. “Already?”

Leon just chuckled, pushing himself up to lean over you and line his hips up with you again, slowly sinking back into your wet, warm cunt. “Can you blame me?”

[vaaaaaiolet]

Leon's lifeline for the past two months has been a chance encounter he met at a bar. At an abandoned payphone in the dead of night, he can only hope his guardian angel picks up his call.

mdni (mild implied sex). gn / m, HELLA pining, romance, implied alcohol abuse bc older leon, egregious overuse of religious / angel imagery, angst w/ a happy ending!

word count: 935 // read on ao3

a/n: if you know anything about me it's that: 1) i will not stop making puns even if you held a gun to my head 2) paradise edition solos your fav 3) you can tear religious imagery out of my COLD DEAD HANDS

find more drabbles in my collection: sketches for my sweetheart the drunk!

Against every neuron in his brain screaming flight, Leon breathes way too early into the receiver, “Hi?”

The payphone is a cold metal kiss against his ear. The night rain works double time to chill him right through. He’s always had bad luck. Leon never meant for it to go this far. Never meant to let things get so out of hand with you, the angel he ran into at a bar two months ago. 

Something about you just sticks. The quarter he fed into the pay slot did too. He should’ve taken it as a sign to let it go, let the drizzle soaking through his government-issued suit order him straight home from the airport, but the heart’s a heavy burden when it’s empty and besides, it gives him something to dream about.

So Leon stays. Prays you pick up. 

The music was loud the night Leon met you. He’s tried convincing himself you’re an earworm instead. You tick all the boxes, too. He can’t get you out of his head (one). Leon had offered you a drink on a whim. You’d told him his eyes looked like pieces of sky fallen to earth, and maybe it was because you saw home in him that he saw it in you. 

It was probably his own gin and tonic steering him astray. It could’ve been the twinkle in your eye when Leon kissed your knuckles in the red flush of the stoplights streaming in through the front window. But sooner than later, you had him wrapped around your wings. It just felt right with your feet off the ground when he’d hoisted you up under your thighs.

You sang so pretty in his arms. Leon’s postmarked for hell for sure. He’d taken you apart in a quiet back corner, pressed kisses down your eiderdown-soft nape, had the gall to smile at the shiver he brought out in your shoulders. You fit him like a glove. Every sweet gasp of his name that left your lips, Leon had burned into his brain to play on loop (two). 

Leon, Leon, Leon.  

And now, two months later, Leon realizes he’s angry about it. Not because of how outdated that is – seriously, who burns CDs anymore? – but because he didn’t know he was doing it. And that he’d do it for so long. He’d come to depend on the savior of your laugh to pull him through nights he’d spend with moonshine or an emptied magazine in different, more unfortunate circumstances. The memory of your voice put his fear to sleep. It was only a matter of time before Leon was skipping church in favor of taxi cab confessionals, drunk under the passing streetlights. Reciting the silvery lyric of your name under whiskey breath (three) as good as turned him into an acolyte. 

One, two, three rings pass before the line drops. Leon slips in his last quarter and punches in again the 10 digits that haunt his dreams. 

Why should you pick up? Maybe he’d hallucinated you tucking your number into his hand before you’d kissed him goodbye. Your wings could’ve been made out of paper, a false idol of Leon’s desperate invention, a feather dropped into his jean pocket from when he plucked you out of heaven. Of course he’d be the hero of the greatest love story that never was. The longest romance novel never written.

The dial tone stretches skyward. Leon sinks his teeth into his lip, stifles a dying scream to God with an aching throat. He doubts he’d listen. 

Because even after all this time, Leon is impatient. The whole city’s asleep except him. The downpour is knifing into his back and he doesn’t want to wait for the day so he can turn sunshine into sugar; Leon wants to pull the sun into his mouth. All this praying on his knees and he can’t even put his mouth on you, can’t put into use all the practice he’s had saying your name. 

He never even offered you a dance. Some kind of gentleman he is. The president’s bitch at attention and a poor excuse of a prodigal son to boot, standing at this payphone and pretending it’s only rain sliding down his cheeks. 

So when the receiver echoes back his greeting, Leon thinks it’s a cruel test. He’s sullen, tasting bitters again.

“Hello?” it repeats softly, “Leon?”

And it’s you.

Leon gasps your name, clutching the phone to his chest and scrambling to answer back. “You didn’t- is it really you?”

You laugh like tinkling bells, lovelier than he remembers. “You sound just the same.”

“And so do you.” Leon runs an incredulous hand through his hair. “How’d you know it was me?” 

“You started off with a ‘hi’. Normal conversations start with the word ‘hi’ and we’ve never had a normal conversation. It didn’t sound right with your voice.”

You remembered how he sounded. He’d called for you and you’d heard.

“I regret that. I’d like to have one of those with you sometime,” he admits. 

“It’s been a while.”

“You don’t- you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Can I be honest?” you whisper.

Leon holds his breath.

“I forgot to put my name on my number and I thought you’d never call.”

Tomorrow, Leon decides when he asks you to meet him for dinner at the Italian place you’d once told him about, right across the old church and the bar where he’d once met an angel, he’ll tell you he was always going to come back home.

And he hopes you’ll forgive him for being late.

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[lich-witch]

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