#leon kennedy the man you are

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

How do you think Leon reacted to Halloween after the raccoon city incident. Like just barely over a month after going through all THAT, maybe somehow he manages to go out during Halloween night. Maybe he had to get some groceries last minute, maybe he just needed to get out of the house. How do you think he’d react to zombie costumes? Especially any done by hardcore Halloween fans and did a REALLY good job on their makeup and costume? Do you think he’d panic? That he’d have flashbacks to raccoons?

[cupidscrule]

YEEEHAW

[pencil-n-pen]

Princess ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

⊹‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

leon kennedy x fem!reader

Summary: Being an independent woman and a full time student is all fun and games until final’s season. Luckily, your not-quite academic rival Leon Kennedy is there to pick you up when you fall.

next

cw: Female pronouns and description used for reader but nothing detailed (no skin color, eye color, hair type, body type, etc.) This is basically just an x reader for my independent eldest daughters who do nothing but their absolute best all the time everyday and deep down want a hot guy with beefy arms to let them relax for a minute. So i guess expect the related issues that come with being an eldest daughter?

Tags/tropes: hurt/comfort, dom! leon if you squint, leon’s very touchy, leon being a gentleman!! probably ooc, i kinda struggled finding his voice :/

wc: 3.3k

a/n: wowee so i’m not rlly looking to be a full time author or anything but i could NOT get this idea out of my head and i figured i could give back to the tumblr fic community <3 here’s to everyone who wants hurt/comfort without smut, incest, or a needlessly specific reader! hope everyone’s recovering well from finals!

— ‎ ‧₊˚ 𓂃౨ৎ

The first time it happened, it honestly, truly, was an accident. A mistake, if you will. You would never willingly fall asleep on a random guy at a party. That is all kinds of bad for a number of reasons.

However. There were some… extenuating circumstances.

Finals. They’re a make-or-break for the first semester. Mostly just a break. In the sense that you contemplated how upset your parents would be at you if you dropped out and if the subsequent disowning would be worth it.

You did finals the same way you did everything. You worked. Studied. Borderline obsessed over it. Romanticized it so you could push through when the other’s resolve started dropping. Stayed home. Your friends bemoaned your “no-fun attitude” but they’re crying over their grades and you’re not, so.

Well. Actually you’re definitely crying over your grades, almost every day in fact. But not because they’re bad. Just because you’re tired. Really tired. The kind of tired that makes people have public breakdowns. But you can’t afford to have a public breakdown because you have to succeed at college and you have to work in order to stay on top of your bills and be able to send some money home to your family and make sure you have time to call your parents and make time for your sister to call you and vent because you didn’t have a you at her age and you wish you did so you have to be there for her and your friends need you to be there for them not to mention planning for how you’re going to use your degree after you graduate and—

Most of the time you try not to think about it.

So finals were over. And everyone wanted to celebrate. And you did, you promise. You’re totally the party girl type. Totally. (Maybe if you say it enough times it’ll come true?)

You don’t hate parties. You like dressing up and going out. It’s fun! It’s just… not your idea of an unwind. Not after you nearly ran yourself into the ground for a month straight for the sake of academic validation. You’d prefer to sleep for 72 hours straight. And maybe watch a movie at home in the sweatshirt you cried over your textbooks in. Maybe over a glass of wine? You’re not really sure. Relaxing never really goes well for you. It’s either depression-bed-rotting or full productivity.

Needless to say, you weren’t exactly thrilled to find yourself at this party. You’re not really sure how your friends convinced you.

But you’re here, in makeup and an outfit you like (you’re thankful this isn’t one of the ‘put on a tight dress and dance’ parties) and you just honestly want to go to bed. It’s a house party, so it’s not nearly as crazy as some of the other parties you’ve been (read: dragged) to, but still.

You’re on the couch, ignoring the smell of alcohol in the air and pretending the pounding baseline of the music coming from the speaker in the kitchen isn’t starting to give you a headache.

Ada Wong, a girl you’ve hesitantly dubbed your party friend, is sitting on your left, while the guy you can never quite tell what he is to her, is sitting on your right.

Leon Kennedy.

On a good day, Leon Kennedy is a smart, brooding, annoyingly capable guy who you share some of your classes with. On a bad day, he’s the bane of your existence. On a really bad day, you fantasize about all the ways you could kill him and turn the experience into a really good term paper.

It’s complicated. You’re smart. He’s smart. You tend to clash because neither of you like backing down from a challenge.

But right now, in this moment, at this party, the only thing you can think about is how fucking tired you are and how warm he is.

The music is so loud it drowns everything out in your brain. The few thoughts that make it through the overwhelm of sound are fuzzy and staticky. The cling and slip around in your head like syrup. The worst parts about parties are, funnily enough, working to cancel out the main reason you can’t fall asleep in your own bed at night: overthinking.

That and the fact that you haven’t sleep in forty-eight hours. An energy drink and an iced coffee count as a full nights sleep, right? You’re sure the heart palpitations are normal.

You manage to keep up with the steady flow of the group conversation, but as the night wears on, talking becomes harder and harder and just plain processing the words being said slowly turns into an impossible task. At some point, someone else squeezed onto the couch— you think it might be Chris? Ada did say he was coming late— so now you’re pressed against the one and only Leon Kennedy, and he’s radiating heat like a furnace.

Like you, he opted for a slightly more casual approach to the house party. Of course, he’s a guy, so his wardrobe was probably never that big, but still. It’s nice to see someone else in a sweatshirt and jeans.

You at least put on your favorite jeans! You call them your hot jeans, for self explanatory reasons. So what if you’re wearing an oversized sweatshirt? It’s cold!

You jolt in place, not realizing your eyes had slipped close and the conversation had continued on without you. Something prickles in the back of your head. An instinctual sort of thing.

Don’t fall asleep in public places.

Don’t fall asleep at someone’s house you don’t know.

You know the owner of the house, you think. You’ve been here once or twice. But you don’t know everyone at the party and where your friends have gone because they’re not in the group talking here and you should probably stand up soon, to wake yourself up, don’t let your friends down, don’t be that girl who falls asleep at the party, don’t—

You jolt again.

Wake up. You tell yourself. Leon’s looking at you out of the corner of his eye, but you ignore it.

It feels like a record skip. You’ll blink, and the conversation isn’t the same as when you first closed your eyes. The song isn’t the same. Were the lights always this bright?

“Whew!” Ada whistles from above. When did she stand up? “Someone’s got final’s exhaustion written all over their face!”

The group laughs and you do too, but it sounds different. Leon doesn’t. Why isn’t he laughing?

You jolt again. Harder this one. A full body shake. You wince as your knee knocks into Leon’s.

“Sorr—“

“Stop that.” He grumbles, and oh. A warm, solid hand snakes around your waist and pulls you closer. Closed to that warm, stupidly comfortable side.

This is wrong. It’s Leon. It’s Leon. You can’t. And this is a party, and your friends are here—

“Stop being stupid,” You can feel his chest rumble from where your cheek is pressed flush against it, and when did that happen? He picks up your left arm and drapes it across his stomach, then picks up your right arm and wraps it around his lower pack. “Squeeze.”

You listen, and wow. Who has time to go to the gym this much and be an academic rival? You feel like you’re slacking. Maybe you need to make time to get some—

“I can hear you thinking,” He says, voice deep and rumbly. It’s honestly a miracle you can hear him over the music. It’s probably because your face is pressed against his chest. If you strain, you can feel the dull thud of his heart.

“You have a heart?” You say, half-delirious with exhaustion. It comes out more as a question than a statement

“Mhm,” He rumbles. “I am in possession of one. Great observation princess.”

You frown into his chest. “Why are you always so mean? You call me that stupid name. I’m not a princess.”

“I’m not mean. Whoever said princess was a mean nickname? You decided that on your own.”

“Then how come you call me that?”

“Because,” He huffs, repositioning to a more slouched position that’s more comfortable for your neck. The arm tightens around your waist.

It’s nice. It’s possessive. Protective. No one’s ever really done that for you before. Usually it’s you doing the protecting.

You don’t want to relax. You can’t. You can’t.

“Because,” He continues, “Princesses need to be taken care of. Especially smart, stubborn princesses who never pause for one second. Not even when they should.”

You should get up. Apologize for how weird you’re being. Have another coffee or energy drink. Join the party. Do something that isn’t this.

“Go to sleep,” He says, his voice like a warm blanket settling and slipping into your mind. “Nothing‘s going to happen to you while I’m here. No one is going to be mad at you for sleeping. And if they are, I’ll kick their ass. Go to sleep.”

It’s easy to give in after that.

You sag, boneless. Like a puppet with it’s strings cut. You inhale deeply, breathing in the deep, rich scent that’s distinctly Leon.

Just for a few minutes. Because Leon’s watching. He won’t let something happen to you. Just for a few minutes. You’ll get up soon. You will.

He tucks you closer to him. “Sleep.”

You’re out like a light.

—

“No way, she’s actually asleep?”

“Holy shit Leon, did you drug her?”

“I did not.”

“Well, thanks, for whatever weird magic-spell you cast. Seriously. We’re all starting to get worried about her. She doesn’t take any breaks and she doesn’t let anyone help. Last week a librarian found her asleep on the printer. Fully standing.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m going to start inviting you to our apartment if it means she’ll actually get some fucking sleep. It’s unsettling finding her in the same position as when I left like, six hours beforehand.”

“Don’t worry. She’s in good hands.”

—

It’s horrific, running into him in the library.

What makes it more horrible is the fact that you’re ugly crying silently in the English textbook section, because it’s always empty. You’re ugly crying in the English textbook section of the university library and Leon Kennedy just walked into the aisle.

You sniff, lifting your head from your knees to stare up at him from the ground. He has a knack for finding you at your lowest, it would seem.

“We’ve got to stop seeing each other like this, princess.”

“Oh?” You sniff hard, running a hand across your face as if that will clear up your red rimmed, puffy eyes, the tear tracks on your face, or the flush on your nose. The action at least wipes away the snot. “I wasn’t aware you ever fell asleep on me at a party. Did I ever find you crying in the English textbook section of the library?”

He tilts his head. “Why the English textbook section? It’s one of your best subjects.”

“It’s the emptiest section. Plus, anyone looking for an English textbook at this hour isn’t going to bat an eye at me.” You wrap your arms around your legs and hug them to your chest. “What are you doing here?”

“One of your roommates called Ada. They said you haven’t been home since this morning. They thought you might’ve been at hers, or with me.”

You snort. “It’s like they don’t even know me.”

He rolls his eyes. “I think they were hoping you’d be there. I think anyone who knows you knew you’d be here.”

“Crying in the English section?”

“In the library, dumbass.”

He stalks forward, leaning back against the bookshelf across from you and sliding his hands into his sweatpants pockets.

“Tell me. Is your pathological avoidance to asking for help conscious or not?”

You kick out, one shoed foot catching him in the shins. “Dick.”

He shrugs. “Just want to know. I can’t exactly gloat over scoring two points above you if you’re not in top form. I want a fair fight.”

“Is that what you're here for?” You ask suddenly, everything in your body going rigid. “You think this is funny?”

“No,” He says calmly. “I’m here because you’re being stupid again. You know what’s not healthy, or smart?”

He gestures to you. You, sitting on the floor, tears drying on your face. “This. Going out to parties to make your friends happy when you should be at home, sleeping. Studying for so long you end up looking like your boyfriend of eight years just broke up with you. Come on, princess. Where’s those brains you brag about?”

“They’re up here,” You tap your forehead. Against your will, your eyes burn, tears welling up, your face tightening. “And they’re tired.”

You drop your head into your hands, forgoing your silent crying of earlier in the place of open mouth sobbing. You can’t help it. You’re just so tired. So done with it all. With trying to keep up, with trying to make space, with trying to make time. With doing your best and it not being enough. You’re tired of being tired.

“Annnd there it is. Come here.”

He lowers himself to the floor next to you, tucking you close in a similar fashion as that night at the party.

“Come on, same thing as before. Hold onto me. Give yourself a minute.”

You wrap your arms around his middle, same way as last time, burying your face into his shoulder. Someone could see. Someone you know might see you crying and think—

He reaches a hand up and pulls the hood of your sweatshirt over your head.

“There. Now no one can see your face. Stop worrying. Just cry, princess.”

You sniffle. “I’m getting snot on your sweatshirt.”

“It’s had worse on it.”

“Gross.”

You can practically feel the eye roll. “Can you stop being dirty-minded and focus on something productive? Like crying? Or not crying, if that would make you feel better.”

You shift, so your head is lying against his shoulder instead of smashed into it like before.

“Why do you care if I feel better?”

Why do you care?

He shrugs against you.

���Told you,” He pushes your hood back a bit, tapping you on the forehead with his pointer finger. “My competition’s no fun if she’s not taking care of herself. How else is she gonna kick my ass?”

“I can take care of myself just fine. I don’t need you to swoop in here, Leon.”

“Mhm,” He says. “And i’m sure you do great at it, considering you’re still alive and kicking my ass at those stupid socratic seminars. Consider this… self-care. In the face mask, getting your nails done way.”

“Who taught you self care?”

“Ada. We have face mask nights.”

You jolt up. “Is she—“

“She’s not my girlfriend, we’re not fucking, no she’s not going to be upset or care in any way about this. Calm down.”

You begrudgingly settle back against him.

“If anything,” He continues. “She’ll be excited to see you at more parties in the coming months.”

You frown. “I never said—“

“You only go to parties if your friends physically drag you or when you feel confident enough in your grades and the general state of your life. It’s really easy to tell which version of you shows up to the party. It’s the way you dress.”

“How so?”

He shifts slightly. Guilt twinges in your stomach as you realize how uncomfortable he must be.

“You wear your pick-me-up pants when you’re dragged there. The ones that make your ass look great.”

You sit up with a gasp. “My hot pants?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that what you call them?”

Your brain catches up to the rest of what he said. “Hold on. Did you just say—“

“I said what I said. I’m assuming there’s a reason you call them your hot pants.”

He smirks, and you flush.

“Moving onto more pressing matters,” He tilts his head at you. “You have two options this evening. Either I take you back to your place and you sleep in your own bed, or you come to my place and we binge watch the Oceans movies until you fall asleep.”

“How did you know I like the—“

“The icebreaker for club thing. You said they were your favorite movies.”

You look up at him. “You remembered?”

“You were wearing your hot jeans.”

“You’re the worst.”

He scans your face for a moment, eyes sparking with mirth and a little something less innocent. “Maybe.”

You sigh and lean back against him, exhaustion from all your crying hitting you at once.

“Nuh-uh, no sleeping here. You gotta pick one. My place or yours?”

You frown into his shoulder. “Ugh. Fine. Yours, but only because I wanna watch the Ocean’s movies. You better not have a disgusting frat house.”

“I do not. I do have popcorn and ice cream.”

“Ada bought those, didn’t she?”

“Nope,” He says, nudging you with his shoulder to stand. You clamber in gracefully to your feet, your head starting to pound. “Chris likes to have movie nights. It pays to be well stocked.”

Your cheeks warm as a large, steadying hand finds its way to the small of your back. “How many of my friends are you friends with?”

“I was friends with them first.”

“Ass.”

He chuckles incredulously. “For having friends?”

“Yes,” You say, letting him pull you to his side while you walk to your table where you left your stuff. Probably not the best idea to leave your entire net-worth unattended, but whatever. You were going through it. “How dare you.”

“Mmm. I see. My apologies, princess. I’ll tell Chris and Ada.”

“You get on that.”

You can’t help but smile as he helps you pack up your things, passing you items across the table and carefully zipping up your pencil case.

“Don’t touch my papers, I have a system.”

“Is the system absolute chaos?”

“Shut up.”

Once everything is packed up, you zip up your backpack, but before you can sling it on, Leon’s arm darts out and snags it right out from under you.

Your expression grows pinched. “I can carry my own bag, Leon.”

“I know you can.”

“Give me my bag.”

“No.”

You groan. “Why do you want to carry my bag?”

“See, there’s this thing called chivalry—“

“Oh my god, shut up. When have you and chivalry ever been synonymous?”

He shrugs. “Ever since I met the girl in the hot jeans who regularly kicks my ass academically.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Mmm,” He hums, wrapping an arm around your waist and walking you towards the doors to the library. “And you’re stubborn. Come on. Brad Pitt and George Clooney are waiting for you.”

You sigh dramatically, hiding a small smile in your hand.

Maybe you could get used to this.

masterlist | next part

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

[witerh]

Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart! || husband re:di daddy!leon

NSFW!

warnings: porn with a plot, fluff and smut, comfort, cook in the kitchen, blowjob, face riding, cunnilingus, pet names: «baby girl», «princess», «baby»

note: Happy Valentine's Day to you! I admired the idea of one of the drabbles, so thanks to the author for the idea! (I lost it, eh)

rating: mature

summary: you wakes up early to make you two breakfast so that it makes him happy on valentine's day after his mission!

all rights reserved!|| valentine's day event!!

With the sun rays flowing in through the curtains, your eyes flutter open, your blurred vision focusing in on the gorgeous man lying near you.

You start the night laying on his chest, but after turning through the night, you two never failed to end up in this position.

You thrived on the feeling of his heavy palms on the yours body, his nose snuggled deep into the crook of your neck, hot breath burns your sensitive skin and his herculean arms wrapped around you enough so that you weren’t going anywhere; not on this morning.

His snoring was not quiet, but you learned to love it. It become the music to your ears with the opening of eyes.

And it only takes you a few seconds for it to get it. A couple of flutters of eyelashes and awakening came with the thought that this it...

It’s Valentine’s Day.

You smiled weakly, excited about all things you have planned for Leon. It was necessary to part with the warm bed and sneak out of the bedroom (don't forgot about softly kiss his forehead) and into the kitchen.

You weren’t too worried, though. Leon didn’t get to sleep in a lot like this due to his work, but when he did. You were safe. You start listing in your head all the things you wanted to make for him.

You were a jack of all trades in the kitchen. He loved coming home from missions, leaving his bike helmet to the side while he reached out to you as you cooked a hot dinner. His mouth is already watering at the sight of the warm plate on the kitchen table.

Gratitude in the form of a juicy kiss on the lips. Oh, shit!

You slave away in the kitchen, frying the wafers and topping them with cream and sliced strawberries, making sure everything was perfect.

You go to check on the sleeping husband. He’s still knocked out thankfully, except he’s on his back now, hugging a pillow.

You notice that the blanket wasn’t on him anymore, which allowed you a beautiful view: his dark hair sprinkled with hints of gray tussled from his sleep. His thick neck, chest and arms, peppered with dark hair as well, resting beautifully. His soft midsection, rising and falling with each snore. Near his happy trail was a prominent tent, the print of his huge dick tightening his briefs.

You bit your bottom lip at his morning wood. God, this man was too perfect for his own good.

You could feel yourself salivate as you remind yourself of all the other things you had to get to like decorations or lighting the candles or the rose petals… It doesn’t take much for you to give into your urges. He won’t miss the candles or any decorations anyways…

He’ll appreciate what you’re about to do way more.

You silently climb onto the foot of the bed, your face dangerously close to the bulge. You give it a small caress, your hands gently molding around the shaft on top of the fabric of his boxers. You look up when you evoke a barely audible groan from Leon , who’s still asleep.

You apply just a little more pressure in your next caress, this time making his dick twitch and his hips faintly buck up into your hand, his instinctive neediness signaling you to proceed with your lustful endeavor. You then lift the band of his boxers, his completely hardened cock immediately springing up.

You have to literally suck in your lips to muffle a moan. Your eyes drink in his perfectly shaped bush at the end of his delicious happy trail, the pumped veins going up his shaft, the singular drop of pre-cum already running down, and finally his fat tip. He was perfect.

You use the juice already there as lubricant, slowly stroking his dick, the other hand on his thick, hairy thigh for support. You start to feel Leon‘s thighs contract and hips slightly bucking up some more, little grunts escaping his lips. His arms tense up as well, his muscles clenching around the poor pillow. His small, slow thrusts drove you crazy, not able to wait any longer to put your mouth to use.

You test the waters by giving his tip soft licks, swirling your tongue on it in lazy, annoyingly slow circles.

This grants you a few quiet hums from him, his belly and round pecs rising and falling faster, his body telling you to keep going for him. Faint «mmhm's» were sighed in his sleep, brows furrowed, lips in a pout; signs that you were doing amazing. You then take him in completely, hollowing out your mouth for him as much as you possibly can, because as mentioned before, this man is big.

You bob your head slowly a few times. It’s when you pull him out with a wet pop! and start treating it like your own popsicle does his eyes finally slowly open, his lips curling when he looks down at his now very cock drunk girlfriend with a satisfied smirk. His chuckle is low and silk-like, his morning voice making your cunt clench around nothing.

"Well," his breathing remains labored, his jaw hanging open, "Good morning to you too, —… Mmfuck." He says as you maintain eye contact, your lips wrapped around his long and thick member, tongue tracing along a vein.

You pull away with a wet smack before saying: "Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy", in the most sing song tone of voice. Leon tuts at your adorable yet seductive response, "Hey baby, so thoughtful good to me…do that again..." he pleads. "Oh!"

"Like this, Daddy?” You ask, lapping your tongue over his tip just the way he likes it. "Oh-oh fuck… yeah, just like that, princess, go-o-od girl-l-l..." his head falls back against the headboard for a moment to sigh before looking back down at you again, seeing his balls in your mouth as your thumb works on his sensitive tip almost making him instantly burst.

You know he’s getting close when he starts panting, propping himself on his elbows and reaching a hand out to your scalp, gently applying pressure now that he’s in your mouth again.

“Aw shit…. I’m close, baby, almost there… fuck, takin’ my fat cock so well, princess…” He mutters apologies and thank you’s as he relentlessly rams into your mouth, his bush managing to meet the tip of your nose almost every time. He growls as he starts greedily thrusting his hips, face fucking his release into you.

You take your sweet time pulling him out of lips, making sure to get every drop, your eyes on his the entire time. Once he’s out of your mouth, he sees you swallow, "Open," and you do as he asks, "ehh, so-o good girlie!"

You begin to sit up, wiping your mouth, "Only for you, baby… C'mon, there’s some things in the kitchen for yo—"

“Whoa-whoa-whoa,” He grabs your hand as you’re about to leave the bed and pulls you toward himself, “I didn’t say we were finished, did I?”

You fall into the bed again, Leon guiding your hips onto his lap as he sloppily makes out with you, his tongue practically down your throat.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he mumbles against your lips. He lays back down on the bed, “C’mere, pretty.”

He brings his hands up to his face motioning for you to sit on your «throne».

Placing your hands on his body for support, you scoot your way up to his face, Leon’s grin getting wider as your wet cunt comes into full view. “So perfect for me, fuck,” His voice is sweet and tender now, planting a few equally tender kisses on your inner thighs, making sure to show them some love before you squeeze his head between them like a plushie.

“You are such a beauty, you know that, baby? Wanna make you feel good, baby.”

“Mhm,” You nod, biting your lip as the breath of his voice tickles your womanhood.

If Leon could, he would just live in between your thighs just like this for all of eternity. His absolute favorite place in the whole world.

Your hands use the edge of the headboard as support, tentatively hovering your hips over his face as he showers your inner thighs with loving pecks and nibbles, the smack of his lips making your pussy clench again. One of his big hands steadies your hips with a tight grip, the other moving your panties aside to reveal your unshaven lips. "Prettiest pussy ever. Fuck, you’re so wet, princess, did I do that?"

You sigh when his lips kiss your clit, his tongue following shortly after by flicking it a couple times. You hear him grunt beneath you after having to lift his head off the bed to reach your hole. "Baby, sit down. All of your body weight." He's short with his words. It sounds more like an order than a request.

"But Leon—" He breathes out, "You're really testing my patience, baby." And with that, his massive hands wrap firmly around your waist and pull you down, a yelp falling from your mouth as he feasts on your sensitive pussy. Leon is the definition of a munch. His head movement adds to the stimulation, moving it up and down, side to side.

His nose, the perfect size and shape that brushes against your clit while he simultaneously slurps and tongue fucks your cunt. The vibrations of his «mmph» the scruff of his face rubbing against your inner thighs, and softly pressing your clit between his tongue and front teeth were the cherry on top.

Your sounds are pornographic as he eats you out. When you're unable to sit up straight anymore due to the immense pleasure, you lean back, hands landing behind you on his soft pecs, pushing into them in an effort to get some kind of break, but Leon wasn't having it. Plus, he was way stronger than you.

A small part of you wondered how he was going so long without coming up for air, but you quickly answer your own question when you remember that your man loves to eat, and when he does, he’s like a starved man. Each time you pushed, his grasp only got stronger, but as much as you pushed, you truthfully didn't want him to stop. Ever.

"L-leon…" sigh, "I-I can't," you cry, unable to speak without stopping mid-sentence to let out a whine, "I'm so close, Daddy, don't stop, please, don't stop-don't stop!" You became a broken record, all sense leaving your body.

The only thing on your mind was Leon's mouth ravishing your weeping cunt. You sat forward again, now tugging on his hair, making him hum further. "Mmmph, fuck!... don't worry... I'll give you whatever you want,"

You began to literally ride his face, desperately chasing your climax with his hands slapping against your ass. Leon was in heaven with this view, bucking his own hips into the air from how perfect you looked like this.

“Mmm… such a dirty fuckin’ girl you're,” smack, “wakin' me up like this…” smack. An octave lower, and the wet, sucking sounds of his mouth helped uncoil the knot in your stomach, bursting on his handsome face.

Your hips stutter and your jaw falls open when you cum, Leon greedily drinking in your juices as if he’s been stranded on the Sahara for set weeks. You could’ve split his skull into two, that’s how hard you pressed your thighs together, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Leon finally let you go, allowing you to sit on his chest now, both of you catching your breaths.

He smirks back up at you, and you roll your eyes, blushing. "Awww, my princess gets all shy when I make her cum, ehhh?" With Leon’s big hands as support and guidance, he rolls over, so he’s still in between your legs, but you’re now the bottom, and him the top.

Then he goes in for a romantic kiss on the lips. You feel safe and taken care of while feeling his body weight on you again, his muscles against yours and his big muscly arms wrapped securely around you.

You can feel his cock twitch against your too much stimulated cunt, completely soaked from his second climax from simply eating you out, no doubt. He moves any hair on your face aside, caressing your cheek when he does. "Happy Valentine’s Day, baby girl. Have I told you how much I love you?"

You manage a tired smile, “I love you, too.” you chuckle, “Oh! I completely forgot you must be hungry, baby…” you say, as you start getting up.

He gently stops you, and you lay back near him.

"Baby, I think I was very hungry before, but you fed me."

[cyberlsk]

thinking about being an intern at the DSO and one day, hunnigan is out, so you’re giving intel to leon…he’s expecting some stiff, protocol-obsessed analyst, but you’re on comms with the agent kennedy himself.

and he’s like, “you’re the backup? you don’t look a day out of college.” so of course you have to respond, “first of all, rude. second of all, i just saved your ass. you’re welcome, agent kennedy.”

this man. this giant flirt of a man says, “sweetheart, you can call me leon,” giving you the most exaggerated wink ever.

maybe after a mission you’re finishing up some security reports, and who swings by other than the (very battered but handsome) leon kennedy himself? he looks around the empty office and goes, “still working?”and you groan. after all, we can’t all be hotshot agents out on the field.

“you know,” he says, “i might’ve underestimated you, rookie. i didn’t realize i was talking to the best analyst here.”

he’s off for a few weeks after that mission and always makes sure to swing by your desk under the guise of checking up on intel, and you can’t help but push his buttons a little! listen, man! it’s not everyday a kind, funny, stunning guy like him comes along!

and maybe, just maybe, one day, he’s staying overtime again to help you finish up (always the intern that has to do the dirty work on a friday night). he’s exhausted, you’re exhausted, and he slips up. you’re chatting about your weekend plans when he asks, “wanna get dinner tomorrow?”

then it’s your turn to get him flustered. as you’re leaving, you give him a kiss on the cheek—something innocent enough to leave him wanting more. “i’d love to, agent kennedy.”

[knifefightandchill]

RESIDENT EVIL 4 (2005)

"So maybe you have nine lives. But it doesn't matter now Mr. Kennedy!"

[confettiibunny]

hold me, console me ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა

Note :: puppy hybrid!leon, knotting + aftercare, idk I just ramble for 555 words and I wrote this with re2 leon in mind also mdni

──── ୨୧ ──── ₊⊹ ──── ୨୧ ────

The most romantic part about having sex with Leon is aftercare. You lay ragged on his mattress and barely know where your limbs are, more occupied with pulling air back into your lungs and the fat knot buried deep within your pussy. With every twitch of Leon’s body, you feel him, filling you to the brim and threatening to rip the seams of your puffy cunt.

Dark bruises and angry red bites wounds are a testament to Leon's fervent passion, along with scratches that adorn your hips. But it's all a patchwork of love to you and it hardly hurts in the moment; the line between pain and pleasure blurring when he's buried to the hilt in your cunt.

There’s something so tender about all of this, to quite literally be stuck together even after sex. To feel his chest rise and fall with every erratic breath. To hear him whisper sweet nothings into your ear, his voice so soft and innocent as he asks if you feel okay. To giggle as his tail thumps against the mattress. It’s a tangle of limbs and laughter and sweat and it’s beautiful in its own strange way.

Since neither one of you is moving away from the other, aftercare is Leon easing you to lay down all cozy onto the mess of clawed-at sheets and pillows. You feel him drag his tongue over your tear-streaked face, licking away the salt of your body. You often huff at his less-than-sanitary habits but he’s been such a good boy you let him. Ever so subtle whines escape him as he trails his lips all over your body like it’s the very first time he’s seen you, nosing into the crook of your neck to breathe in your scent and let it fill his lungs. Vulnerability invites a person’s truest self and with Leon laid bare before you, his eagerness to smother you in affection is clear.

And like a good lover, you reciprocate his affection with ease. You scratch him behind those floppy ears of his, holding back a giggle when you hear how he whimpers so beautifully. So receptive, it's as sweet as candy. Manicured nails caress his back, getting a rise over how he shivers from the feather-light touches. But you can't tease him too much or he'll get all excited again as much as you love your puppy, there's no way you'll be able to go for another round.

Eventually, his knot eases its way out of you with a pop and yeah, you really should get out of bed to wipe away all the slick cum caking your thighs but...nah. And you don't really have a choice to begin with Leon, as he keeps you pinned down to the bed. No if, and, or but you’re not moving and depriving him of the sweet comfort that is your body. 

“We can take a bath tomorrow,” he’ll argue. “Don’t want you to leave me.” Acting as if you’d disappear like a puff of smoke if you moved an inch from him. But it's not worth it to see those damned puppy eyes from him and have him nip at your fingers to keep you from leaving. Just once you can be lazy and indulge. For once you’ll shelve your problems for early in the morning. 

[clockworkreapers]

More art for the TFTGS universe, some stuff from Finding Vanessa!

[fawnsflowerbed]

ugHHHH now i can't stop thinking of morning head on leon. he's so sweet i love domestic leon he deserves his dick sucked everyday. and he would to love to cook breakfast for you when he has the time, his "leon special", scrambled eggs, bacon and a nice little salad maybe or some toast, seasoned the way he knows you like :(

SMALL NSFW MENTION BUT THIS!!!!!

I absolutely adore this 100% it’s so cute but I stand by my thought that he.. he can’t cook. DI can more than others, but I still wouldn’t trust him entirely with a stove alone.

Like I think he can grill, so like 100% you get the bacon or like sausages for the whole English breakfast. The eggs I think he’d learn from you over time so he can cook for you, the last time he tried to fry an egg he forgot what he was really doing with it and was lucky the pan wasn’t ruined.

Like he lets you sit down and teach him how to do the little things the way you like, so that on the days where he’s feeling extra sweet and sappy (and somewhat thinking with his eenis) he can give you that domestic breakfast. He can love on you and nuzzle his stubble against your cheek and eat you out on the countertop like uGJHH!!!!

[mmmairon]

RE4 Leon my dearly beloved…

[shuugumi]

17+ + nsfw + hints of possessiveness

“good girl, moan into that pillow ah- so only i can hear how good am’ making you feel.” your face buried deep into the pillow as he plowed deep into you from behind. fucking you roughly but messily, almost like it was his first time getting pussy. 

your moans sunk into the soft feathery pillow as he forcefully grabbed a ponytail worth of your hair, pushing your head deeper down into the pillow. he had been forcing your head down to the point where it felt like your face was morphing through the pillow and into the sheets that were under. 

his other hand pushes your flabby thighs in a way where you look like a frog—a better way for him to see the recoil of your ass cheeks bounce off from his pelvis. even if you had no ass, as he fucked you the hardest. he was still able to make that ass shake. 

“g’nna cum!!” you shout into the pillow, followed up by him forcefully bringing your head up, leaning in close towards your ear. “you- ah fuck! wan’ tell the world you g’nna cum?” 

singular teardrops dripped down your puffy cheeks as he fucked you harder but now at a slower pace, you looked behind with one of the lewdest faces he’s seen. a face that was even sexier and fucked out than those trashy hentai shows he’d used to watch years before meeting you. Your face flushed as your eyes could barely hold themselves open, and your mouth was wide open with a dribble of drool escaping the corner of your lips. 

“that’s it- give, give it to me baby.” 

© 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 ; do not translate, copy, plagiarize or upload elsewhere!! all content is owned by me unless stated otherwise.

[the-abyss-of-fandoms]

Me when Capcom made me fight two blind grandmas with chainsaws and then a centipede priest back to back:

[wherenymphsroam]

“rough day?”

♱ it was a rough day. and you’re too pretty to resist.

♱ cw: afab reader but no gendered terms are used, degradation (he’s stressed n mean), boot humping, spit, D/S undertones

(can be seen as a bit dubcon but this was written with the implication of a pre existing free use dynamic in place.)

♱ a/n; need him to shake me around like a dumb puppy. maybe I wouldn’t be mentally ill anymore

The sound of the door slamming shut jolts you, heavy and resounding through the house. He doesn’t even bother to call out in greeting, the only form of signal you get that he’s coming towards you being the heavy footfalls of his boots against the hardwood floors. 

It was a bad day. 

The weight of his agitation dampened the air of the kitchen when he stopped in the doorway. You don’t have to turn away from where you’re wiping down the counter to know his typically bright blue eyes are hooded, clouded over with how intensely he was staring at you. 

“Leon…?”

You turn, all doe eyes and creased brows, questions on the tip of your tongue that you dare not let slip out. 

God, that pretty fucking face. Those sweet lips, the way your eyes brighten even under the shadow of the storm whirling through him. 

It made him want to ruin you. 

“Sweetheart… C’mere,” he murmurs, voice clipped with barely restrained agitation, white knuckled control. 

It wasn’t agitation at you, you knew that. Agitation was too often becoming a forefront mood for him lately, something you could only yearn to quell and quiet with each sharp, seemingly daily flare. 

Maybe that’s why you buckle so easily, feet carrying you over to stand before him before you can do much as blink. 

Because like this, if even just for a few minutes, an evening, you knew you quieted his mind, soothed his heart with the rush of hormones your body could coax out and flood him with.

“Rough day,” you murmur softly, gently. It’s a statement, the obvious dragged out in the open to settle thickly between you, like stretched taffy. 

He only nods. 

Nose flaring with the heavy exhale that leaves him, his thick lashes fluttering for a moment before he finally, finally dares to settle his clouded, unreadable eyes on you. 

“On your knees.” 

Realistically, it should be considered pathetic how quick you are to comply. How easily his words, his mere presence alone slips you out of that day to day awareness and high functioning state. Hell, it probably is pathetic, depending on who you ask. 

But could you really be blamed..? Leon was easily the most hardworking, selfless man you knew. God forbid you wanted to suck him off about it on a daily basis. 

Your knees settle on the cool tile of the kitchen, eyes obedient and bright, all but starry with anticipation when you gaze up at him. Hands laid flat on your thighs, your mouth already starting to salivate at the sight of his figure shadowing you… it would be an understatement to say that Leon’s self control was wearing thin. 

And quickly.

It was a tightrope between taking you right there on the floor like a damn rabid animal, and wanting to tear you apart piece by piece. He knew either option would make good on helping him to forget the horrors and stress of the past twelve hours, but as much as he was a man with needs, he was a patient one. And trying to balance the both of those facts, desperately and fruitlessly trying to get a read on him right now? It left you throwing arrows blindly against a dart board. 

Which is why it was a bit surprising when you found the hard toe of his boot sliding between your thighs, Leon’s idly hanging hands making no attempt to click his belt off making your breath hitch. 

“I don’t see why you even bother to wear these. The material is so thin,” he mutters, tilting his head in intrigue as he watches his boot settle against the clearly outlined shape of your cunt through the thin material of your shorts. The lounge shorts you insisted on parading around the house in, the ones that barely kept your ass contained.

“Can see your fucking pussy from here. Are you even wearing underwear?” 

The lilt of condescension in his voice directly betrays the look of faux boredom he was attempting to keep on his features. 

No. Ruined them by lunch thinking about you.

“T… They’re in the wash,” you meekly attempt to defend, swallowing thickly. Maybe like this you could act like you hadn’t become a depraved slut for him, you tell yourself.

His sharp eyes catch and follow the bob of your throat, the twitching of your fingers. 

Denying it even when you’re itching to touch me. Poor thing.

“Don’t bullshit me,” he scoffs, short and throaty, his lips briefly curling at one end. It was the closest to a smile you’d gotten out of him in a week. 

“Can feel you soaking through the damn things already. A shame your pussy’s more honest than you are,” he hums, crossing his arms. His toe rocks back and forth, short, concise motions that drag your clit with each sway, delicious and addicting. You’re far from reasonable right now, his words tearing through that flimsy wall of self respect. At least, your excuse for it, you supposed. 

Panting now, your neck gives way, leaving your forehead to fall and rest on his thigh. 

“Leon-” 

“Shut up and ride it,” he gruffly responds, dragging dirty fingers through your hair in a way that directly contradicts his harsh words. Even now, he was sweet in his caress. 

However, that sweet affection is quickly forgotten. All it takes is a meek nod of your head, a twitch of your thighs and a whimper escaping you to have his fingers tightening against your scalp, craning your neck back in a way that forces you to look up at him. 

“Open.”

Quickly obliging him, your lips part, tongue obediently flattening as soon as your jaw goes slack.

He’s typically one to dance around the obvious, to tease you a bit. Most often, his go to was to squish your cheeks, tell you how fucking adorable you look when you’re hungry for his spit. Maybe dragging the rough pad of his thumb along your lips, tracing the sweet shape delicately before he finally starts to gather your treat on his tongue.

But not tonight. 

Tonight, his thumb is hooking into the corner of your lips, muttering something about “we both know you can go wider” before he’s leaning down, spitting into the back of your throat. You damn near choke, sputtering for a moment before you recover. That is, just in time for him to pat your cheek once, twice — not enough to make it hot, but enough to sting, pleasantly so. 

His fingers tighten, digging roughly into your molars, using his grip on your jaw to shake you a bit like that of a dog with narrowed eyes, set lips. Pliant and empty headed, like that of a doll… he liked you best like this. Your attitude, your wit, your intelligence, sure, all that was great. But it was nights like this that reminded him of his handiwork. Of how far you’ve come in becoming his perfect slut.

“Keep it in your mouth. Don’t wanna hear a damn word. You swallow and you don’t come tonight.”

It was going to be a long night.  

[spicerackofblorbos]

Home | Leon S. Kennedy x gn!Reader

☾ summary ➼ Leon just came back from a mission and you missed him.

☾ content/warnings ➼ fluff, canon world, mentions of bruises and cuts, suggestive (MDNI)

☾ wc ➼ 750ish

The sound of muffled thumping coming from Leon's office wakes you up from the sofa where you had fallen asleep on. Instead of the movie you had playing in the background, the TV was off. Now, soft acoustic instrumentals sing through the record player in the corner.

Your eyes pop open as you're suddenly pulled out of your sleepy stupor and sit up quickly. Your neck turns to see the office door ajar, a faint yellow light glowing through the crack.

The blanket you were wrapped in falls to the floor as you stand. With new vigor, you start stepping towards the hopeful light. When you push it open gently, your heart skips a beat.

There he was, Leon currently organizing miscellaneous papers with a wary look on his face. A few day old scratches and bruises mar his pretty face but he was there, and he was whole. At the movement of the door, he looks up. Those blue eyes of his light up at the sight of you.

“Hey there, sweetheart. I didn't want to wake you.” Leon says with a lopsided grin.

You don't say anything. Instead, your face pulls into a large smile as you make your way over to where he sat behind his desk. He knows you well enough to pull away enough so that you can crawl into his lap, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck and his arm around your waist. You nuzzle into his neck and sigh in relief.

Leon must have just gotten home because he still smelled of blood and sweat and his combat uniform still covered his body. Even the holsters were still in place, though now devoid of weaponry which is no doubt locked up safely in the hidden compartments of his office.

“Miss me?” Leon chuckles, the low rumble of his voice vibrating against your body. He starts to slowly rub circles on your back in a soothing manner. You nod slowly, wrapping your arms around his neck tighter. As you hold on to him, you can feel him start to organize his mission reports.

Leon had been away for about a few days, which isn't long compared to his other missions, but the importance of the mission had you biting your nails down to the quick and wishing he was home instead. It's not every day when the assignment consists of rescuing the president's daughter in rural Spain.

“How did it go?” You eventually get out after a few minutes. Your soft voice comes muffled against his warm skin.

“The usual. Got my ass handed to me a few times, but I survived.” Leon jokes, pressing his cheek against your hair.

You pull away a little to be able to see his face better. You inspect every part of it from the side profile, and even more when he looks down at your sleepy face. The bruises were starting to turn yellow and the cuts were scabbed, not as angry red as you imagine they were at the beginning. The little freckles that dot his face, his captivating blue eyes that narrow in focus.

“Thank you for coming back to me.” You whisper softly, raising your hand to touch Leon's cheek. You pull him down until your lips press against his. He smiles into it and puts down the file he was holding so that he can hold on to you instead. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him as his kiss lingers.

Leon pushes himself away from the desk and stands up, carrying you bridal style effortlessly. As he does, he starts peppering your face with kisses, eliciting quiet giggles from you.

“I missed that sound. I wouldn't leave that for anything in the world.” Leon mumbles in between each kiss. He starts down the hallway where your shared bedroom lies. You can't help but squirm as your laughs get louder. He heads straight to the bathroom. “Wanna know what other noises I missed?” Leon looks down at you with a smirk.

“Leon!” You playfully slap his chest. “You just got home, get cleaned up first.” You chastise, but you can't help the bright smile.

“Oh, I intend to. And you're coming with, baby girl.” Leon suddenly shifts you so that you're thrown over his shoulder, then he slaps your ass playfully. The bathroom door closes in front of you as Leon kicks it closed.

[sansonrio]

post-arias cuddles

ref

click for better quality 🫶 b/w ver below

[galaxy-fleur]

Replaying RE4R, and I am once again thinking of how Leon just straight up murders a guy the moment he attacks. Like yeah, sure, he lunged at him with a weapon, there is a bloody badge of an officer, things are sketchy to say the least, but still. It all happens so fast, I doubt he actually had the time to fully put two and two together quite yet.

And you can't tell me that Leon, a trained agent, just overestimated the power of his kick on accident. That ↓

Was a pretty much deliberate kick. What's interesting is that in the OG RE4, he at least tells the ganado to freeze a good couple of times (or maybe once, I don't remember the specifics, but my point still stands) before actually proceeding to harm him. Remake Leon, meanwhile... just breaks his neck without a second thought.

And his reaction right after makes it... pretty obvious, honestly.

There is no strong reaction there to offing an old man in his home. Now, granted, he hears a scream right after, so it's not like he has much time to stand and ponder over what happened! But the only thing he says right after is: 'This is not good.' And, yeah, true, but we do know Leon is capable of expressing some level of distress over something he finds disturbing, and he proceeds to do that literally a few minutes later once you start exploring the village. So really, it's an interesting scene and a very intriguing way of introducing this hardened version of Leon we'll be playing as.

I wouldn't be thinking about this as much if not for the circumstances surrounding it. Not like Leon is aware that this man is infected with anything. Up until the moment he gets back up, he could be just some disturbed, paranoid old man or something. And he did just walk into someone's house. He's an intruder here, really. But the moment danger presents itself, he eliminates the threat without a second thought.

I think it speaks volumes of the past 6 years that passed for him, and how they shaped him. We don't know much of Leon's job: what it entails exactly, what kind of work he does on the daily, how the entire structure operates. And before the events of RE4, it's not like he was a well-known agent, if I remember correctly. It's his successful rescue of Ashley that got him high in the ranks. His status as a Racoon City survivor didn't do that. Throughout RE4R, we see him regain his humanity through the connections with other characters, going from the cold, robotic way he caries himself at the start of the game, to the determined, emotionally-invested man we later see carrying Ashley to Luis' laboratory.

It's very neat to think about! And while we all love Leon for his kind heart and his drive to save innocent lives, he is more than capable of violence, and that's an aspect of him I wish was talked about more. That neck break was definitely not the first one for him, just saying.