#leon still didn’t get his jacket back

[zer0pm]

Imagine Luis using a jacket to protect you both from the rain.

“I’m back! Did you miss me?”

Your head snaps up at the sound of his voice and you rush over to his approaching form with haste. Luis spreads his arms wide, ready to accept your warm embrace with sincere enthusiasm. What he got knocked the air out of him. Literally- his breath escapes him as your fist connects with his gut.

“Mierda… that’s a good one…” he groans, hunching over in pain.

“You asshole!” you scold him, ignoring his snark. “I thought you were dead! I saw Mendez dragging you away!”

“C’mon, my friend. Have a little faith,” Luis huffs, his signature grin returning to his face once he recovered to a standing position. “So long as they know I’m the one who hid The Amber, I’m untouchable.”

You had an unamused expression on your face, reaching up to poke at the evident bruise swelling on his forehead. The man winces under your touch but does not move away, a slightly guilty smile on his lips.

He shrugs, “Yes, well- uh, mostly untouchable.”

Although you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the Spaniard’s breathtaking talent for witty remarks in dangerous situations, you were mostly relieved that he was okay. The feeling of water droplets pouring on your head brings you back to awareness of where you both were standing. Lowering your hand from Luis’ head, you latch onto his wrist.

“We should get out of the rain. Hide it out somewhere safe until we figure out our next move.”

Luis nods in agreement, “An excellent idea. Oh, un momento-”. Taking advantage of your grip, he effortlessly pulls you closer to his side. The weather was damp and the air was chilly, but Luis’ breath upon your cheek warms you.

The sudden closeness throws you off guard and you were about to question his actions until a distinctive shadow looms over you both, blocking out the downpour. You glance up to see Luis’ hands holding some sort thick faux fur lined with leather over your heads.

“Stay close,” he advises, each word fanning down the skin of your neck and cheek. “I don’t plan on separating from you again.”

Against the chilly wind and rain, your temperature grew hot, both from the dark-haired man’s close proximity to you as well as his words that made you shudder with heat. He thought you were shivering and inched himself closer against your side. You had no choice then but to wrap your arms around him to stay under the protection of the-

Huh?

Now that you were looking at it, Luis was using a jacket. A jacket that was most definitely not his. The fine brown leather and fur lining was a tell that it most likely did not belong to any of the locals either. The style was too modern. So where did this come from?

“Luis,” you began to ask, “what is- whose jacket is this?”

You hear him chuckle under his breath, the sound coming off like he was revisiting a funny memory. When you glance at his from your peripheral vision, you spot a glint of intrigue in his reminiscent eyes, matching the lopsided smirk characteristic to his sly demeanor.

For a good minute, he doesn’t answer you. When he finally does, there was no mistaking the amusement laced in his voice. “My new friend. Sancho Panza.”

That’s all he said. Of course, you follow-up with more questions, but Luis was a master at evading inquiries with vague responses. The only information you were able to gather was that this new friend came to the village looking for someone but your companion purposefully leaves out the details of how they met as well as how they separated. Eventually, you two come across an abandoned house and that was when you dropped the subject for time being.

Once inside, you moved to detach yourself from Luis, but he stops you. Maneuvering his arms in an almost elegantly dramatic fashion, he drapes the jacket over your shoulders. At his insistence, he helps you slip your arms through the sleeves. Thanks to your shared body heat, the inside was pleasantly warm, a welcome relief against the drafty chill in the air. The dark-haired man then tugs at the fur collar, securing the jacket on your frame, pulling you closer in the process.

At the sight of the blooming blush on your cheeks, the suave man winks at you before stepping away wordlessly. You had to stop yourself from leaning in after him, but your slight tilt did not go unnoticed. His smirk widens.

After the two of you secured the area, you settled down in the first floor and indulged in the brief respite. Luis’ capture threw a wrench in your shared plan to escape, but Luis, ever the optimist, assured you that you were still on course. As you hashed over the details on how to recover The Amber and meet up with Luis’ informant for safe passage, gunshots and screams were heard from the distance.

You rise up from your seat in alarm and look out the window to see two blonds, a man and a woman heading your way, both ardently being chased by a mob of infected villagers. “Luis, look! Survivors. We have to help them.”

Your companion leans his head over your shoulder to follow your line of sight. Against your ear, you hear him curse softly in his native tongue.

“You were bound for an introduction, I suppose.” he scoffs. You didn’t get a chance to ask him what he meant as he left your side to rush over to the door. He pries the wood open and waves at the running pair to come inside. Not long after they were ushered in the house and you and Luis barricaded the door, the blond man takes note of your companion’s presence.

“You,” the man glares, disdain dripping in his firm tone. He stomps towards Luis, the latter backing up with each approaching step.

“Hey,” Luis greets nervously, playing up his sly charm you oft see him use to get himself out of trouble that he’s landed himself in. “Listen, about earlier-”

The angry blond pins the Spaniard against the far wall with a strong fist, “Yeah, about that.”

Curiosity got the better of you, “Luis, who is this?”

Your voice rips the blond man’s attention away from Luis, redirecting it now towards you. His cold eyes scan over your face with analytical wariness until they relented to something akin to genuine surprise upon noticing the article of clothing on your person. His expression filled in the details that Luis purposefully omitted behind the story of the jacket. The gears in your head clicked into place. It was your turn to throw an accusatory glare at the Spaniard.

“Did you-” you started before sighing, pinching the bridge of your nose. You approached the two men, an apology on the tip of your tongue as you shifted to remove the jacket and give it back to the stranger as a show of good will, but Luis’ voice stops you in motion.

“No hagas eso. Keep it on, it looks good on you.” The Spaniard interjects, grinning playfully at you. His grey eyes then glance back at the blond expectantly who still had his uncertain gaze on you. “Our new friend thinks so too. Eh, Sancho?”

[cakelitter]

Sweetheart Club

Professor! Leon x Fem! Reader

warnings: dirty talk, pet names, p in v, thigh fucking, semi public sex, age gap, mentions of exhibition, cheating (not on reader), angst with a happy ending

summary: “You wanted to talk, professor?” he turns around and faces you, placing down the papers he’s holding on his desk and taking his glasses off. “Yeah, mind explaining the absences?”

words: 2.2k

a/n: prof Leon is rotting my brain, this is a technically a part 2 for "A+" but no need to read the previous chapter to understand the plot of this one. Enjoy!

You’ve kept your promise to yourself.

Slipping away from the comfort of his broad arms and continuing on with your life like nothing happened. Like a couple of weeks ago your professor wasn’t whispering sweet nothings into your ears while he stroked your hair; plotting a gentle kiss on your forehead as post sex sleepiness overtakes your senses.

You ignored his texts and calls, skipped his classes for weeks; all to keep those blue eyes don’t lure you in like they did the first day you met. You focused on yourself, burying your head between assignments and tests; keeping any thoughts of him at bay.

Crazy how you used to live like this, now you’re making effort to make things go back to the way they were. Was life always this cold away from his embrace?

Wish you could say that you didn’t miss him, him and his stupid jokes, and his stupid soft air, and his stupid mellow voice. The three crow feet that would appear on the corner of his eyes every time he smiled, and the mole on his neck burned into your memory.

 Wish that you could say that he’s no good for you. That he’s a horrible person that ruined you, that you feel like shit because he treated you as such, maybe if he was like that, you’d have an easier time moving on. But that’s far from the truth.

He was softspoken and gentle, giving you his jacket when it’s cold, buying you gifts and holding you close till you fell asleep. How are you supposed to hate the hand that showed you nothing but love and affection?

Either way, it had to be done. Funny how a ring around his finger still left a bitter taste in your mouth no matter how sweet his presence in your life was. Maybe you should’ve talked to him about it—told him how it made you sick to your stomach, seeing him go back home to another woman after he had been worshipping the ground you walked on.

Well, aren’t you technically the other woman? After all, the one he goes back to is his wife on paper, regardless if he loves her like a husband should or not. The guilt is staring to overshadow any of the blossoming feelings he planted in you.

You’re not disgusting, not the kind of women that get off to the idea of stealing another’s man. Not the kind to go around parading your relationship like you won the lottery.

That’s not you.

If you knew better, you would’ve never gotten involved in this. Would’ve kept your legs closed and mouth shut. But you didn’t. And now, your balls deep in a mess you willingly created.  

Taking in a deep breath, you step into his class, mixing in with a group of students and sitting down in the far back. Whether you want to see him or not, you have to pass this class. Taking any more absences will affect your GPA, this course was hard even when he was personally tutoring you for his exams. Reading the notes that your friends took while they’re half asleep are not doing you any good.

You see him, eyes fixated on his laptop waiting for more students to arrive. Your heart is already beating out of your chest and he hasn’t even looked in your direction yet. You mentally scold yourself for yearning for him, feeling all the progress you’ve made in hopes of moving on going down the drain.

Does he even want you back anymore? Your brows furrow at the possibility, what if you were just a pawn in his game, chewed you up and spat you out without even glancing behind. Yeah, you pushed him away. But with each passing day, you looked forward to see that missed call notification pop up on your phone.

 A few minutes later, he gets up and starts explaining, his eyes falling every now and then on the empty seat where you’d usually sit; completely unaware of your presence.

However, that was short lived when his eyes finally lock with yours. Your heart drops, anxiousness overtaking your senses as you try to not let it show. He keeps looking at you as he explains, his expression hard to read, unable to tell what’s going through his mind before you look away.

Enchanting blue eyes snap back to you between pauses in his explanation, pools so deep you feel like you’re suffocating.

Coming here was a waste of time, your thoughts drowning out the voice around you. It looks like your GPA is going to drop whether you attend or not, might as well keep whatever is left of your dignity and stop showing up.

The sound of people packing their bags and leaving snaps you out of your thoughts.

 Biting the inside of your cheek, you begin packing your things as quickly as you can; wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. But as you’re about to get up, his voice calls your name. “Please stay for a second, we need to talk.”

Shit.

How do you always find yourself in these situations? He’s not even looking at you, eyes scanning through papers he’s holding as he waits for the class to empty.

Not a single bone in your body wants to talk, actually that is a lie. You do want to talk, just not about what he has in mind.

Maybe you can just sneak out the door? No, he’ll probably just follow you and you’d end up embarrassing yourself. Pretend to have an emergency? He knows everything about you, that would never work on him.

What if you just jumped out the window? He’d never expect that. But the both of you are going to hell, so you’ll meet eventually. Fuck, there is no escaping this.

The room eventually empties, leaving only the two of you. Honestly, the sooner you get it over with the better. Just rip off the bandaid and tell him that it won’t work.

‘No Leon, we cannot fuck anymore. You’re married, act like it.’ See, plain and simple.

Getting up, you walk over to where he stands, feigning confidence like you weren’t spiraling two minutes ago.

“You wanted to talk, professor?” he turns around and faces you, placing down the papers he’s holding on his desk and taking his glasses off. “Yeah, mind explaining the absences?”

Ok, we’re starting off professionally, interesting. “I was having some complications.”

“With?” he immediately retorts, voice becoming more agitated closing his eyes in frustration. “I-”

“I send you texts, I call you, I send you a fucking email, and you don’t respond.” Yeah, there it is. “You skip my classes, and fall off the face of the earth for almost three weeks. Do you know how fucking worried I was?”

His voice softens at the last part, this is honestly the first time you’ve seen him this pissed. He takes in a deep breath looking up at the ceiling, loosening his tense muscles. Stepping closer towards you, his large hand cups your cheek, thumb caressing the skin soothingly.

“Sweetheart… why are you doing this to me?” God, that pet name rolls off his tongue so perfectly, your knees are about to collapse. You look up at him, noticing the worsening state of the dark circles beneath his eyes. “Leon, I- We can’t keep doing this anymore.”

His gaze softens, hand stilling its movement. “Do what?”

“This.” you gesture at the hand on your cheek. “Leon, you’re married. You have a wife, and you’re out here fucking your student.”

Your throat tightens as tears begin to brim on your lash line. The words you spit out feel like venom, inflicting pain on the two of you. “I don’t know what’s the situation with your wife, and every time I bring it up, you end up changing the subject like what we’re doing is normal.”

Warm tears drip down onto your cheeks, your voice shaky as you attempt to compose yourself. “I love you, so much. But I feel fucking horrible every time I remem-”

“We’re getting a divorce.”

“...what?”

“I’ve been considering getting one before I even met you. Meeting you showed me everything I’m missing. My relationship with my wife… has been honestly nonexistent for years now, and I know that doesn’t justify what we’re doing but-”

“I should’ve done it sooner. I’m sorry, baby.”

He smiles softly, his thumb wiping away the tears that cascaded down your face. “You still mad at me?”

Relief rushes through your body, the heavy feeling of guilt slowly being lifted off your shoulders. Your head leans against the hand brushing through your hair; your smile mirroring his.

His face inches closer towards yours before finally connecting your lips together. Never realized how much you’ve missed his lips, till you tasted them again. The kiss is sweet and slow, your hand reaching up and resting against this jaw, his rough stubble scratching against your soft hand.

Grabbing you by the hips, he pulls you closer till his chest is flush against yours as he mummers against your lips, “Missed you so much, sweetheart.”

You giggle, connecting your lips once more. This time, the kiss is deeper, his tongue brushing against yours. The hand on your hip guides you towards his desk, his mouth latching onto your neck, leaving kisses and bites across the sensitive skin.

“Please, touch me.”  You whine out, grabbing his forearm and leading his hand over to one of your breasts. Groaning, he sneaks his hand beneath your shirt, groping the soft tissue through your bra. Your fingers tangle through his thick hair, your other hand clutching his bicep.

“Turn around, and take these off.” He hisses in your ears, his finger hooking the waist band of your pants, letting go of the material and letting it snap against your skin. Doing as you’re told; your hand fumbles with the buttons before pulling them down enough to expose the wet patch on your underwear.

Cursing beneath his breath, his hand cups your mound, the digits rubbing against your swollen clit as his thumb teases your entrance. “So fucking sexy.”

You bite your lip to stifle a moan, his hand moving to the fat of your ass, spreading you open for him. You hear his belt getting undone, and it doesn’t take long before you feel the tip of his cock smearing precum over your thighs.

“Close these thighs for me, sweetheart.” Your head turns around slightly to look at him, a happy trail running down from beneath his white shirt, leading to a trimmed bush above his thick cock. Your eyes linger on it, tip shiny with precum and veins traveling up it’s length. “Leon, please.”

His fucks his dick between your thighs, the tip brushing against your warm clit causing you to move back into him. He lets out a moan, his head tipping back as his fluids coat your panties, making the material stick uncomfortable to your sobbing cunt.

Squeezing your thighs together to get more friction, a breathy moan escapes his lips as he holds your hips firmly. “Yeah, yeah baby. Just like that.”

“Leon, I want your cock, please.” His hand sneaks below you, rubbing firm circles on your clit. “I know, I know. Just gotta make sure this little pussy is soaked when I stuff it full of my cock.”

Leaning in he kisses your jaw, his other hand cupping your breasts as he whispers into your ear. “You’d let me play with you, yeah sweetheart?”  

You nod eagerly, gipping the desk below you; shifting your attention the warm feeling blossoming between your thighs.

Deciding he’s had enough, he slips your soaking panties down, placing one of your knees on his desk. You can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs. Leon centers his tip at the opening of your hot cunt, collecting more arousal before bullying himself into you.

You let out a yelp at the stretch, resulting in his hand clasping over your mouth as his hips begin to thrust into you. “Gotta stay quiet, baby. Can’t have anyone walk in and see you getting this pretty cunt stretched out like this, yeah?”

The idea causes hot arousal to shoot across your body, your walls pulsing around him. “Fuck, you’d like that? Want someone to see you getting cockdrunk on my dick?  See how well you take it?”

Your mind imagines every word he’s saying; simply thinking of how dirty the sight must be is enough to send you over the edge. You thrash around beneath him, pussy pulsing around his thick length earning a moan out of him.

He begins to chase his own high, hips slamming against yours, the grip he has on you is rough, enough to leave a bruise. Your body goes limp, hearing him whisper incoherent praise into your ear.

“So good for me.”

“So fucking tight.”

“Pussy made for this cock.”

Moments later, he reaches his own release as hot ropes of cum coat your walls. You hum at the warm sensation, watching him pump into your spent cunt a few more times, before he eventually pulls out with a low hiss; cursing beneath his breath as he watches your mixed releases ooze out.

Before they drip any further, he grabs your underwear; pulling it up and leaving a soft kiss on your hip with a reassuring pat. He fixes himself up and helps you look as proper as possible. “I think I just missed my lecture, thanks to you.”

“Forget about it, got three weeks’ worth of concepts to make up for.” He smiles, arm pulling you closer to him. “Gotta make sure to pound those points in before finals.”

divider by: @d-oie

[dollfacefantasy]

neglect kink with older leon???!!?!? like… you’re super horny whining and begging for his attention and he’s just. completely ignoring you. maybe he eventually lets you cockwarm him but he’s still ignoring you… the only way you know he’s enjoying this is because he’s still hard… no sounds or nothing. you’re so desperate for ANYTHING a kiss, a touch, literally any words at all but he’s just focused on his work!!! maybe daddy kink because everything needs daddy kink… maybe, like, you did something bad so this is your punishment… i don’t know… maybe he gives you the attention eventually or not!!!!

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you've been bad, but you never seem to learn from spankings. leon has to try something new to remind you why you should be a good girl.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, cockwarming, masturbation, overstimulation, daddy kink, praise/degradation, age difference, dom/sub stuff (rules, punishment, etc.)

word count: 6.2k

a/n: you're so right, everything does need daddy kink <3 thank you for the request, love. i hope it's what you were wanting. i imagine post-DI leon for this so he's a bit older, but i just used DI for the pic. anyhow, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

Your deep breaths and soft whimpers had overtaken the quiet murmur of the tv in your bedroom. An old movie played on it, one you had seen time and time again. It no longer had your attention. Instead, you’re focusing on playing with the pulsing bud between your legs. Your fingers thrum back and forth over the sensitive spot, hips pushing down against the mattress as sparks fly in your belly.

Technically, you weren’t supposed to be doing this. It was one of the rules you agreed to when Leon had approached you with some things he wanted to try out for your sex life, just a small set of guidelines to play with. ‘No touching yourself without daddy’s permission' had been listed among others. He counted each one on his fingers as he did, and you nodded your head and looked up at him with your sweet set of eyes. The same set that now flutters with ecstasy as you played your forbidden game. But as long as he didn’t know, it was fine, right?

Your heels dig into the blankets beneath you while your breasts rise and sink with each inhale and exhale. You feel that hot sensation between your legs, the tightening cord, the boiling pleasure. You’re about to let it loose until you hear the front door open and shut, keys clatter on the table, and the familiar grunt Leon does when he slips his shoes off, using the tip of one on the heel of the other.

You nearly miss these little cues because of the rain clashing against your windows, but in a stroke of luck, you catch it all and tear your hand out of your shorts at light speed. Leon’s just walking into the bedroom as you drape the blanket over yourself. Shifting around a little to get comfy, you then gaze up at him, putting some tenderness into your eyes in hopes of throwing him off your scent.

As he gets closer, you take in his appearance. Little droplets of water on the shoulders of his jacket from the rain outside. Shiny hair fresh from the shower he took this morning, shaggy bangs hanging down into his face. Tired glaze over his eyes, work must not have been a walk in the park. 

Once he approaches you, he raises his eyebrows, and for a second, you’re sure you’ve been found out. But all he does is sit next to you on the edge of the bed and run a hand over your head. His eyes fixate on you as if he’s studying your features. Your heart pounds, waiting to hear the words belt, over my knee, or sore & stinging leave his lips, but they don’t.

“Been having a nice day, baby?” he asks you, petting your head a few more times.

“Mhm,” you respond. Innocent enough.

“That’s good. What have you been doing?” he asks. Oh fuck.

“Um, just watching a movie,” you answer.

“Yeah? That all?” he continues. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Pretty much. It’s all rainy out. Don’t really feel like getting out of bed,” you say with a casual shrug.

He nods. It seems like an approving gesture, but you could swear there’s a little knowing glint in his eyes. Maybe that’s just your imagination. Hopefully, that’s just your imagination.

“Alright. I gotta go finish up some work for a while, just wanted to check on you first. Keep being a good girl for me,” he tells you. He gives you a small pat on the ass before getting up and walking out of the room as quickly as he had entered.

Your body relaxes, and your pulse descends to normal levels. Maybe you did pull it off. Heist of the century in your book. You settle in to truly just pay attention to the tv for now, but it’s not as simple as it should be when you’re still so pent up. You’d just breached the threshold of release, before you were torn out and back to reality. You could feel the slick that had gathered between your legs, the ache in your clit calling out to your fingers.

The thought of continuing does cross your mind. It would be so easy. Without any suspicion on you, all you would have to do is clamp a hand over your mouth and rub slower so the bed didn't creak. Plus, when he went in his office, he usually worked until the evening anyway. You could cum and be done with it before he had the slightest idea.

No, no, no. You told him you’d be a good girl. You wouldn’t wanna break daddy’s heart by being bad, right? No, you wanted to make him proud. You resign to wait until he wants to play with you. He always did; you can’t recall a night he left you wanting. So you lay on your side, eyes focused on the blue-tinted screen across the room, and keep it together.

But hours go by. And then more hours go by. You keep yourself occupied, marathoning nearly an entire franchise of movies, eating, going on your phone. But none of it fills the Leon-shaped void inside you.

This was the longest he’d ever been in that office. He never worked in there into the night. He always told you that he tried to spend as little time in there as possible. That’s time that could be spent with his good girl, that’s what he told you. Only you hadn’t been a good girl today.

You shake your head, and tell the stupid little voice inside to zip it. He seemed tired, remember? This is probably just an extension of that. He knew he’d have to come home and be in his office all day. It was all a coincidence, this whole thing. There was literally no way he could know what you’d been doing. But daddy knows you better than you know yourself.

Oh god. This was like some form of torture, you’re sure of it. Self-inflicted, or was it really? He was the one who’d made you this way. Whatever. Enough was enough. There was no reason to be paranoid. You could literally just go ask him. Sort this out and soothe your anxiety, so you can go back to waiting patiently like the good girl that you are.

Pushing the covers to the side, you slide out of bed and head down the hall to his office as thunder crackles outside. A gentle push on one of the French doors leads you into the room you rarely entered. Despite that, you liked it in here. Leon’s desk faced away from the door, towards the window that looked out onto the street. The curtains were drawn now, brown fringe overlapping with the spare cushions on the window seat below it. Some bookshelves lined the walls perpendicular to his desk, though you never had the time to actually check their contents.

You walk a few paces into the room. Your eyes cast over to him. He doesn’t even look like he’s doing much for someone working into the night, but who are you to judge? You step over a crinkle in the rug to stand in front of his desk. Your hands rest on the hardwood as you gaze at him over the monitor of his computer.

“Hi,” you say simply.

He nods. A movement so vague that he could’ve told you his head twitched, and you’d believe him.

“Whatcha doing?” you ask.

“Work.”

You stare at him for a moment. Sure, he wasn’t normally super chatty, but he also wasn’t usually so clipped. He knows.

“How’s it going?” you say.

You’re met with a shrug. You have to up your efforts.

Circling around his desk, you position yourself behind him and wrap your arms over his shoulders. You drag your nose against his cheek like an affectionate kitten and kiss the skin a few times.

“How much longer you gonna be in here?” you ask. Your voice remains gentle and undemanding.

“A while,” he grunts. The clacking of the keyboards starts up again, and his eyes remain locked on the documents in front of him.

“But you’ve been in here for hours,” you point out and feign a pout.

“And I’ll be in here for even more if you keep bothering me,” he says with a little gesture that wasn’t fully shrugging you off but at the same time was shrugging you off.

Ouch. Your pout was no longer feigned. You stand up straight and walk back to where you stood originally. He still doesn’t spare you even the smallest of glances.

“Can I stay in here with you?” you ask hesitantly.

“If you want to,” he says. Wow. Not that he wanted you to, no. If you wanted to. Sure, people could call you sensitive for being upset about that, you don’t care. You’re tempted to leave with a huff, slamming the door behind you, but now you’re even more curious if he was aware of your illicit afternoon activities. You kinda hope he is at this point because at least that would give a reason for his icy attitude.

You walk over to the one other chair in the room. Yeah, there was the window seat, but as pretty as you’d made it for him, decorating it with little throw pillows and cute coverings, it wasn’t very comfortable. You plop down on the corduroy cushioning of the beaten-up seat in the corner. with a sigh. Bringing your legs up over the armrest, you lean back against the opposite one and scan the room out of boredom. Your feet swing back and forth absentmindedly as you puff breaths of disinterest from between your lips.

You really try to give him time to finish, but it feels like he’s taking actual eternity. Also, it sounds like he’s barely doing anything, and now you are going to judge because he’s cutting into your precious personal time with him. You stare at him for several minutes, keeping your eyes locked on his face. Unlike any normal person who’d get uncomfortable, he just continues “working.” Finally, you crack.

“How’s it going?” you ask.

No response.

“Are you almost done?” you try again.

Nothing.

Your eyes darken, your frown growing. “Leonnnnn,” you whine.

And still absolutely nothing. You have one more weapon in your arsenal. If this doesn’t work, you know you’ll just have to pack it up for the night.

“Daddy…” you whimper, using the softest voice you could manage, the one that always shot right through him. You jut your bottom lip out a bit more and put that pleading in your eyes. After this, all you have is literal tears, and you’re hoping it doesn’t go to that point.

Leon knows this, and he doesn’t want it to get that far either. He finally spins his chair in your direction. His eyes land on your face. He has to repress the smirk rising to his face over your neediness.

“Funny how that name seems to always slip out most when you want something,” he replies.

At least he wasn’t ignoring you anymore. “All I want is your attention…” you say, keeping up your sweet performance.

“Oh yeah?” he taunts, “Tell me, baby. Were you thinking of daddy today when you were home alone?”

Your eyes dart away from his face, but you force them back. You couldn’t blow this by being too obvious, so you respond with a simple nod.

“I thought so, princess. What else would have had you so riled up today when I came home? It wouldn’t be because you were breaking one of your rules, would it?” he asks. His tone was obviously leading. He knew. You were so desperate for him though that at this point you were starting to think a spanking wouldn’t be that bad. At least it was some form of physical contact to sate you.

“I wasn’t riled up earlier,” you say quietly with a little shrug.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re not lying are you? Cause that’s another rule. Two broken rules in one day. That wounds me, babydoll,” he says.

“I’m not breaking any rules. I’m being honest,” you say.

“So you being all squirmy, hot skin, heavy breathing; that wasn’t you being riled up? Is daddy imagining things now? Do I not know what my girl looks like when she’s aching for me?” he asks, “What she looks like when she’s been trying to solve her little problem herself?”

Finally, he unveils his reasoning. You freeze and stare at him, trying to think of what to say. Even though you wanted attention, there was still that innate part of you that hated being in trouble. You’d much rather be perched on his lap to be loved on like the precious thing you were.

“I don’t know what you mean,” is your weak attempt at an excuse. He laughs and leans back in his chair, the old springs creaking with his motion.

“Did you put your fingers inside or just play with that pretty little clit?” he asks, eyes boring into you as he goes for the kill.

“Just my clit…” you mumble and look down.

Shaking his head again, he turns back to his computer. You watch him, expecting him to start in on you again. To lecture you about your impatience. Tease you about your borderline pathetic need for him. Take you over his knee and crack you on the ass while making you repeat each of your rules back to him.

But none of this happens. Instead, this man just goes back to straight up ignoring you. Your jaw drops and a confused whine comes from your throat. “Daddy, c’mon. I’m sorry,” you say.

He resumes typing, fingers gliding over the keys and eyes fixed on the little words appearing in front of him. You groan in frustration and sink back against the brown ribbed fabric of your chair. You glare at him from your place, trying to telepathically will him into entertaining you again. You must be lacking in mental communication though because he doesn’t change what he’s doing at all. One of your thighs crosses over the other, unintentionally giving your pussy a little friction.

That’s what made this all the more frustrating, you were still unsatisfied from earlier. You should’ve just made yourself cum like you wanted. You’d be in trouble either way. You could only hope he’d take it easy on you now for having chosen the former.

Different scenarios run through your head for how you want to play this. A spectrum of possibilities lies in front of you. On one end, you could just leave. Keep whatever dignity you had left, cut your losses, and go to bed. On the other, you could be over the top. Hop in his lap and smother him with a flurry of kisses before he could object. Either one would probably only earn you more punishment, so you try to think of a middle ground. A way to continue the game.

As you think, your right hand lazily runs up and down your chest. Your middle finger coasts over the area spanning from the valley between your breasts to your navel. Taking your lip between your teeth, you decide to start here. Your fingers move to your tits and round your nipples. The buds harden into small peaks beneath your shirt. You pinch and pull at them gently, and your cunt flutters in response to the teasing. You shift your hips up before shimmying your shorts off and letting them drop to the ground beside your chair.

You reposition yourself next to sit properly in the chair. Your heels come to rest on the plush cushion as you spread your legs and expose your damp panties to him. Not that he bothered to look.

Now your fingers moved down there. They pet your most sensitive area over the thin, wet cloth. Your breath hitches as your fingertips brush over your clit. You press down a little harder and make a soft breathy whine. His eyes flit in your direction, but they don’t linger. Take what you can get, you guess.

You slide your digits back down and massage your dripping entrance. The fabric becomes more wet as you rub it on your slick folds. Your middle and ring finger move in tandem to stoke the flames down there and to ensure the fabric is completely soaked. Once that mission is accomplished, you lift your hips for the second time to remove this garment. Only you don’t drop it to the floor. This time you toss them in his direction, landing them on his desk, lace half covering one of his wrists, half covering a section of his keyboard.

The sound of typing halts, putting the room into silence, spare the raindrops splatting against the window. His eyes remain stern and not on you. Without even looking down, he wads the panties up and shoves them in his pocket. The sound of typing resumes.

“Daddy,” you huff, “I got ‘em all wet just for you.”

He still doesn’t acknowledge you. You let out a growl of sorts and narrow your eyes at him. Your fingers slip through your arousal coating your center. You pay more attention to your clit now that it’s exposed.

“I just missed you so much today. I couldn’t help it,” you reason.

You whimper and squirm in your chair as you start rubbing faster. Your eyes are still locked on him, watching for the slightest crack in his resolve. So far there are none. You continue toying with yourself.

“I was thinking of you the whole time,” you whimper, “That should count for something. I was imagining your hands and your eyes looking down at me. I was pretending I could hear your voice.”

He remains unaffected. Your head tilts back against the plush cushioning as your hips rock in place. You mewl softly which soon turns into a long, drawn-out whine. Finally, he shifts in his seat a little, and you know right away it’s cause he’s starting to get hard.

“I just love you so much, daddy. Can’t control myself when you’re not around,” you say, further chipping away at the little dent in his stoic facade.

Your moans increase in volume as does the slippery sounds coming from your fingers moving through your slick. That feeling from this afternoon is starting to come back. Pleasure builds in your abdomen, one piece stacking on top of the other. You’re shaking more, voice getting less even with each little cry of joy. He finally turns to look at you when you start doing that thing you do when you’re about to cum, the ultra-specific puff of your chest that rolls through your abdomen to your hips. His eyes capture yours, unamused with your antics.

“If you cum right now, a spanking is the only kind of attention you’ll be getting until you learn some self-control,” he tells you.

In an instant, your fingers sputter to a stop. Your mind bounces back and forth on what to do like a metronome. But as always, your craving for Leon’s approval wins out over every other option. You remove your hand from between your legs and even sit up, closing your thighs. Maybe now, he’ll see you’re being good and cut you some slack.

Yeah, right.

He goes back to his computer. Again. You’re about to lose your mind or explode, you aren’t sure which will come first. Standing from the chair, you start walking to his desk. He still didn’t look at you! How rude, you’d think that the touching yourself rule was his favorite or something even though you knew it wasn’t. That title belonged to the rule that let him pick your outfit whenever the two of you went out.

A few paces in his direction, and you’re back right where you started. Arms looped over his shoulders, nuzzling your face against his cheek, and kissing the side of his head. “I said I’m sorry daddy,” you say softly, “I’m really really really really sorry. I know I was a bad girl, but only for that.”

He grunts and scoots closer to his desk, away from your embrace. A noise of exasperation leaves you, and without thinking, you roll the chair back a couple inches and embrace him again, only tighter. A grin rises on your face when you see the bulge that had formed in his lap.

“Pretty please? I’ll take whatever punishment. I don’t want daddy to be mad at me anymore,” you plead and give him some more pecks on the cheek. You knew you probably looked ridiculous, pantless and visibly horny, but that wasn’t a true concern at this moment in time.

“Go to bed,” he states simply, “I’ll deal with you later.”

That wasn’t good enough. You wanted him now.

“Daddy,” you whine, stretching out the last syllable. You lower yourself to your knees and slink down in front of his chair. “C’mon, I said it like a million billion trillion times. Can’t we just kiss and make up?”

He stares down at you, not impressed with your show of submission. He was playing harder than usual. He knew that wouldn’t deter you though. You squish your cheek against his thighs as your hands creep up his legs.

“Do I have to make a special apology?” you ask, looking up at him with puppy eyes.

He pushes your hands away as they reach his thighs. “Quit it,” he growls, “Let me finish my work and maybe we can work something out.”

But you don’t quit it. You move yourself closer to one of his legs, preparing to put on a little show for him if need be. Your eyes don’t quit and neither does the pleading expression on your mouth.

“But I need my daddy now,” you huff, “I-”

And that’s it. You’re cut off by Leon reaching down and yanking you into his lap.

“Such a fuckin’ brat,” he grunts, “Ready to hump my leg like a bitch in heat cause I don’t give you attention for a couple hours.”

You squirm a bit as his hands rub up and down your sides and squeeze your hips. He stills you with a firm slap to your ass. Both of your eyes gaze into the others, the small spheres swirling with arousal, annoyance, and adoration.

“I just missed you. I would’ve left you alone if you weren’t so mean to me,” you point out.

“Who says I have to be nice to you? You don’t get to decide when you wanna listen based on that,” he says and pulls you to his chest. You lean in against the muscular expanse while his hand snakes between the two of you to get at his button and zipper. “Your job is being a good girl. Not just when you feel like it. Not only when daddy’s giving you kisses and calling you pretty. The only time you stop is when I say, and that didn’t happen today did it? Am I imagining things again?”

“No,” you agree reluctantly, “But I-”

“Cut your yapping out. I’ve heard enough. Give me some quiet or I’ll put those panties to good use,” he threatens.

As your lips fall shut, you hear the tug of his zipper and feel him shift as he takes himself out. Now you’re really quiet, more from anticipation than obedience.

“Now I’m gonna let you sit on my cock, but that’s it. No squirming, no ‘getting comfy,’ no whining, no ‘but daddy.’ You act up too much, and I’m truly sending your ass to bed for the night.”

You look up at him and nod, not even speaking because you didn’t want to cut your chances at dick off before they started.

“Good,” he says.

One of his hands helps elevate you so that he can position his length underneath you. The tip slips through your folds, already soaked from your prior escapades. He doesn’t tease too much, wasn’t interested in hearing you beg right now. He’d heard enough of that for tonight. He pushes you down onto it. His mouth twitches, and he sucks in a deep breath as he feels the warmth of your walls engulf his cock.

You slide all the way down with ease. Looking back at his face again, you feel the insatiable urge to give him a little kiss. If you did that though, would that be one of the things you aren’t supposed to be doing?

“Daddy… can I have a little kiss first?” you ask.

He merely shoots you a look that tells you don’t push it.

With a final look of defeat, you nestle yourself against his chest, head on his shoulder so you can look up at his face. He was so focused. If you didn’t know you were here, you never would suspect he’d be up to this level of multitasking.

You let out a sigh. It was nice being full, but you still yearned for more. You were really trying to be good though, so there wasn’t much for you to do. Minutes tick by as you try in earnest to think of a potential solution. To make matters worse, at a certain point, after you’d been on his dick for a while, his hand starts roaming your back. A soothing touch that made your walls flutter around him. He knew it would too, you could tell from that little smirk on his face.

Trying to focus on the positives, you mentally study every feature of his cock that you can feel. It’s so deep, he’s resting right against the spot that could drive you wild when properly battered. It pulsed rhythmically, twitching slightly when your muscles would contract or release around his shaft.

You’re actually doing better than expected, letting your mind wander. But then, he’s the one to move a bit under the guise of necessary readjustment. The whimper that falls from your lips is inevitable. He shushes you, and you mutter an apology, but that simple movement was enough to reignite the fire in your belly.

You bite your lip, the neediness in your eyes intensifying. “Daddy?” you whisper, testing the waters.

Nothing.

So he had gone back to this? Not if you could help it. You don’t bother speaking again. Instead, you move the tiniest bit, rolling your hips as you act like you’re shifting to alleviate a cramp. To your shock, he doesn’t say anything, just shifts his hips a bit in return.

You glance up hopefully. Maybe he was going to ease up, but he just didn’t want to verbally admit it. You move a little more, but this time, you’re a bit too zealous in your attempt. His hands grab your hips and dig into your flesh, keeping you in place.

You’re so pent up and frustrated. Your forehead thuds back onto his shoulder. “Ple-”

“What did I say?” he asks.

“But da-”

“What did I say?” he asks again and tightens his grip.

“I just wanna cum,” you whimper, “It hurts, been achy all day.”

“Oh it hurts, does it?” he mocks. He jerks your hips to give you some fleeting friction while maintaining his control. “What is it about today that’s making it so hard for you to listen?”

“I-” you start to defend yourself out of instinct but can’t actually come up with anything. “I don’t know.”

“That’s right you don’t. So quit acting like you do. You think with that slutty little pussy, and then act like you don’t need daddy to make the decisions. It’s a little disappointing, babydoll,” he scolds.

Your eyes flicker with every stage of grief as he says this. That’s literally the worst thing he could say. He could call you any name in the book and you’d brush it off with an eyeroll or a “hmph.” But disappointing? That was evil. That word could worm its way into your heart and weigh on you for days.

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly in a desperate attempt to remedy, “I just… I’m so pent up. Can’t think with my head when my pussy keeps distracting me.”

“Oh, poor baby,” he mocks with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

“That’s why I have to cum,” you plead, “I need it. It’s not even the same when I do it. I should’ve just waited. I’m sorry.”

“You need it?” he repeats, “So fuckin’ spoiled. I give you some dick even when you don’t deserve it, and it’s still not enough. I gotta train some gratitude into you next.”

“You’re the one who spoils me,” you pout.

“Oh, so it’s all my fault? So you’re saying I shouldn’t be so easy on you, huh?” he challenges.

You shake your head as fast as humanly possible, now set on backtracking your fuck up. But it was too late. “No, I was just sayi-” you start before he cuts you off yet again.

“And just when I was about to start fucking you too? That’s a damn shame,” he says.

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head more. This had gone from a slight improvement to a downward spiral.

“I mean, why would I bother now? All you care about is getting to cum. Don’t care about all the work daddy puts in to make you feel good the entire time,” he taunts, “If that’s the case, then go ahead. Cum. Take what you want, but don’t you dare move those hips.”

Your look of anguish evolves into that of confusion. You don’t really want to question him right now, but you’re unsure of how you’re supposed to follow that command. “I can’t…” you say softly.

“Why not?” he asks.

“Not enough,” you answer.

“Then make it enough,” he growls, “You were having so much fun today with those fingers. They don’t work anymore?”

Oh. Your face feels hot as the realization dawns on you. You shyly bring your hand to your center and awkwardly fumble with your clit. You look at him, silently begging to ride him.

“You can do better than that,” he responds, “You were putting on such a show earlier, so don’t act like you need my help all the sudden.”

Shamefully, your fingers pick up some speed. You whimper as the pads of your digits rub over a sensitive spot. The whole time he’s still inside you. It felt kind of weird, but still good. You weren’t going to complain. Your upper body twitches a bit, but he holds you straight up, making sure you're looking at him while you work.

“That’s it. How’s it feeling, baby? Is it as good as when daddy does it?” he taunts.

“No…” you whimper, “It’s ok.”

“Aw, well, it’s gonna have to be good enough for now because it’s the only way you’re cumming.”

You groan and whine at the statement. It was the truth, but that didn’t mean you wanted to hear it. You start circling faster and flicking your hand with more urgency. Your head falls back at the sensations as a breathy moan floats from your lips. He squeezes your hips again as you tighten around his cock from the euphoria you brought yourself.

“Look at that. Think you’re gonna be able to cum all by yourself?” he teases.

You nod. Your hips rock involuntarily as the pleasure ramps up, but his grip keeps you stationary. Little gasps like the ones from earlier when you were in the chair escape you. Your fingers move almost like they’re automated.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Please can I finish?” you whimper, “Wanna cum so bad, daddy, please?”

“I already gave you permission, baby. Guess you really wanna show me how good you actually are,” he chuckles.

You can’t even say anything back before the switch flips inside you and release tears through you. Your back stiffens up and a strangled rope of moans come out of you. Your hips jerk harder than before, giving you brief brushes with the head of his cock. He sighs contentedly as you flutter around his cock and provide him with a muted sense of bliss.

You’re still riding it out when his hands are no longer just holding you, but rather, beginning to bounce you. You feel it in your cunt before your brain even catches up with the general motion of your body. It’s because you’re still so sensitive. The tingly stab pulling a quiet shriek from you.

“Daddy, gimme a break,” you whine.

“What? Daddy doesn’t deserve to finish too? Is that what you think? You just get to have your fun, and leave me to deal with it. That’s not how it works, princess,” he says.

“I’m not- I didn’t… I just can’t… it’s too much,” you struggle to get out between the whimpers coming from you. He keeps bouncing you, groaning as that hushed ecstasy blossoms into an encompassing euphoria. The noises of him sliding in and out are nearly louder than all the whining and moaning you’re doing.

“You can take it,” he grunts, “I’ll say when you’ve had enough.”

You cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain as his hips start to meet your hips guided by his hands. A deep groan rumbles in his chest as your cunt’s constant contracting massages his length. After a while, it feels like you’re almost numb down there. The fire still rages in your belly, but your actual pussy has been beaten into submission by your boyfriend’s cock. He watches your face as he moves you, relishing the way your eyes are getting glossy with a cocktail of tears, both of overstimulation and relief.

“So pretty for me, sweetheart. Gonna be even prettier when you cum again all over my dick and milk me dry,” he grunts.

“Uh huh,” you moan without thinking, head wildly falling back and forth in what’s supposed to be a nod.

Soon enough, his chest and belly are tightening up. He knows the end is near and pistons into your cunt extra hard for the finale. You wail and grip his biceps for support as you explode. You didn’t ask to cum this time, but being so close to his own release, he couldn’t really find it to care.

He keeps going through your orgasm, practically making you sob in pleasure. You feel impossibly tight, warm, and wet. And when he sees how your precious face is getting tight too, scrunching up as you reach the peak of the peak, he can’t hold it off.

His fingers dig into your hips so hard that you feel like the future bruises are already there. Your eyes are rolled back in advance as he fires his cum deep inside you. A goofy smile graces his features as he pumps it in, enjoying the waves of pleasure that wash over him throughout. And the whole time you’re pulsing away through your own release. 

You look even dumber than he does, silly smile not just on your lips, but visible in your eyes too. You’re whimpering, extra whiny and a higher pitch. He rubs your skin to remind you he’s right there. He can see your head coming back to reality as the whirlpool of ecstasy subsides.

“Oh that’s it, there’s my good girl,” he coos as you finally reach the end of the high. His hand rubs your back in long, even strokes. “So proud of you, sunshine.”

A dreamy, self-satisfied grin comes across your face. His words were the best drugs while you were in this state, and the tone of his voice only made them that much more addictive.

“Such a good girl,” he repeats, “Now how ‘bout you give daddy a kiss.”

Eagerly you boost yourself towards his lips to connect in a hazy smooch. You’re a bit sloppy with it, but he expected that and found it cute. Of course you were dizzy. He just fucked you stupid. Once you pull away, he strokes your hair and smiles at your blissed out face.

“Aw, cutie. Looks like it’s time for you to head to bed,” he says as his fingers move to rub your cheek.

“You too. I wanna cuddle,” you say, locking your arms around him.

“Mhm, I’ll be right behind you. I gotta finish up the last of this. Now that I don’t have you distracting me, it should only take about fifteen minutes,” he teases.

“That’s like a million years, and I already had to wait all day,” you sigh dramatically.

“Then I’m sure you can handle a few more minutes,” he says and rubs his nose against yours, “Don’t start getting mouthy with me, little love. I still have those panties I can easily turn into a gag.”

With a playful glare, you get up on wobbly legs to make your exit, dizzy smile still plastered on your face. You start to stumble to the door when he calls out to you.

“Wow princess, not even going to say good night to daddy? I expected better from my baby,” he chides teasingly.

You roll your eyes while smiling and return to him to smack one final big kiss on his lips. “Night daddy,” you say with a small giggle.

He smirks at your clear happiness. As you turn to leave, he swats your ass. “I’ll be right there. Bet you’ll already be passed out by the time I get there,” he says as his fingers start working the keyboard again.

“I’ll be dreaming of you though,” you tease before going out the doors and down the hall to your bed.

[gigabyte-flare]

The Dark of You

(A Gigabyte Flare One Shot)

Summary: Leon S. Kennedy returns home to you from an assignment in San Francisco in desperate need to relieve some tension

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairing: Death Island!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

CONTAINS DEATH ISLAND SPOILERS

Warnings: sex (p in v), age gap (reader is 26), very mild angst, choking, degradation, pet names, breeding kink

A/N: This is 5000% self indulgent. I cannot, for the life of me, get Death Island!Leon out of my head since watching the movie. The title is inspired by Dark of You by Breaking Benjamin

“Fade away to the wicked world we left,

And I become the dark of you.”

The anticipation is killing you. About an hour ago Leon had let you know he landed in D.C. and is on his way back home. He had been on an assignment in San Francisco, he didn’t say what for, he never disclosed any of his assignments to you. He insisted it was to protect you. You have been sitting on the couch, watching TV as you wait for Leon to come home but fatigue is starting to get the better of you, so you decide to turn off the TV and go to bed. A small inkling of guilt ate at you; you wanted to greet him when he got home.

Walking into the bedroom, you pull back the covers, slipping beneath them and getting yourself comfortable. You fall asleep within minutes; that’s not like you. Your constant worry for Leon clearly exhausted you. You’re suddenly awoken by the feeling of someone kissing the crook of your neck, an unshaven face scratching at yours. You recognize the cologne and his masculine scent immediately.

“Mmmm… there you are, Leon…” you say softly as you’re pulled from your slumber. 

“I hit traffic on the way home, I hope I didn’t worry you,” Leon replies, his voice still muffled by your neck.

“When am I not worried about you?” you ask, turning your body to face him.

You immediately notice he looks ragged and exhausted, with dark bags under his ocean eyes and his hair slightly disheveled. He is still wearing his combat vest over his dark gray t-shirt and his blue leather jacket over that. 

“You look like hell.”

“I feel like hell, I think my age is starting to catch up to me, love,” he says, bending down to kiss your forehead.

“Stop talking like you're 80, you’re only 38, you’re not old.” you tease, playfully punching one of his biceps. 

For some reason, unknown to you, Leon was very self conscious about the age gap between you two. You can’t count how many times you reassured him that his age didn’t matter to you, that the 12 year gap between you didn’t bother you; you’ve been seeing him for almost a year.

“It’s not like you started dating me out of high school, you’re not a creep!” you recall telling him constantly. 

He smirks at you, running a hand through your hair, “I’m going to hit the shower, I’ll be right out.”

You nod at him, watching as he goes into the adjacent bathroom, not bothering to shut the door behind him. You listen as he turns on the shower and you can hear the sound of his clothing hitting the floor. You let out a deep sigh of relief, grateful that he’s home and safe. Even though he didn’t talk about his work with you, you knew one thing for certain.

His job is dangerous. 

You watch as Leon comes out of the bathroom, a pair of light gray sweats barely hanging onto his hips as he dries his hair with a towel, giving you a beautiful view of his ‘happy trail.’ Tossing the towel aside, he fixes his damp hair with his hands before climbing into bed with you, immediately wrapping you in his arms, nuzzling his face into your hair as he breathes deeply. You feel him kiss your hair over and over, like he couldn’t get enough of you.

“I’m so glad you’re home, Leon,” you tell him, snuggling into his embrace.

“Me too,” Leon replies, “I… I almost didn’t make it back…”

“What?” you look up at him, sitting up, your eyes full of concern.

You can tell by Leon’s pained expression that he was struggling on whether or not to tell you what happened. You watch him sigh and he clears his throat.

“I got infected with a virus--”

“What?! Do we need to get you to a hospital? I can take you!” You panic, throwing the blankets off you as you start to climb out of bed, but one of Leon’s strong hands grab your upper arm, stopping you.

“Babe, I’m fine… I got vaccinated, I’m not infected anymore. It’s… actually not the first time that’s happened.”

You tuck yourself back under the blankets, laying your head back down on the pillow as you continue to listen to Leon.

Leon lets out a soft chuckle, “if I had a nickel each time I’ve been infected with something… I’d have two nickels.”

You can’t help but laugh, even though hearing this from him made you worry more, but you don’t say anything and let him continue.

“I know that’s not a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.”

You shake your head, cupping his face in your hands and kiss him as you’re laughing. 

“Unfortunately, there was one casualty,” he says, his lips still pressed against yours.

You pull back, raising an eyebrow at him.

“The bike got wrecked…”

“Oh sweetheart,” you coo, running your fingers through his hair, “I’m so sorry, I know you loved that bike.”

“It’s alright, if I had to choose between the bike and coming back home safely to you, I’d pick you. Every time.”

In an instant, one of his hands grasps the back of your head, pulling you to him to kiss you ravenously. His tongue makes its way into your mouth, dancing with yours as he lets out a low growl. He climbs on top of you, pinning you to the bed as his hands work to pull off your underwear, tossing them aside as he continues to kiss you vigorously.

Meanwhile, your hands are working to get his sweatpants off him, finally getting them pulled down when he kicks them off. His hands grasp at the front of your tank top, ripping it apart to expose your breasts. His hands grasp at them as you pull off the remnants of the tank top, tossing it aside off the side of the bed to join your underwear. Before you know it, he’s manhandling you, getting you on all fours on the bed, positioning himself behind you as he wraps his left arm around your neck as he uses the other to position his hard member against your thoroughly soaked cunt. He pulls back, choking you with his arm but not enough to outright strangle you; a favorite position of yours, admittedly. You love it when he’s rough with you. 

“You want this old man’s cock, don’t you, pretty girl?” he growls in your ear, his hot breath on your ear sending chills down your spine, straight to your aching hole. 

“Y-Yes!” you manage to reply, gasping for air as his arm gives your neck a nice squeeze. 

“Of course you do, you dirty slut.”

You feel Leon bully his cock into your leaking entrance, your fingers curling and gripping the sheets as he begins to pound into you with vicious ferocity. His right hand grips your hip like a vice; that’s going to leave a bruise later. He lets out a half moan, half growl as you feel him adjust his position, getting on one knee to get a better angle to fuck into you as deep and as hard as he possibly could.

“F-Fuck! Too… too much!” you manage to say, his arm still squeezing your neck.

“You can take it, baby, I know you can,” he purrs, thrusting even harder into you, “gonna breed this pretty little kitty.”

His words make your clit throb and your walls tighten around his cock, causing you to cry out. With one of your hands, you reach between your legs, rubbing your aching clit with your index and middle finger, making your body tremble. Leon picks up on this immediately, chuckling in your ear.

“Oh? You like that? You want this old man’s cum? You want me to fuck a baby into you?”

Your cunt squeezes around him again as you nod, moaning as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. He leans over you, kissing the side of your neck before giving you several hickies as he pushes his hips deep inside you, the head of his dick kissing your cervix, filling you with a sense of euphoria, your arms reach up and gripping the arm still wrapped around your neck. 

“Leon… I’m.. I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum…!”

“Good… such a good little slut you are,” he growls, giving you a playful bite on your earlobe.

After a few more powerful thrusts, he pushes himself as deep inside you as he possibly could go and you feel the burning warmth of his release as you come undone on him. Gasping, tears of relief stream down your face. Leon stays inside you for a few minutes as both of you catch your breath, having removed his arm from your neck. Eventually, he pulls himself out of you, hooking your waist with one of his arms and pulling you back so that he could cuddle with you. You give each other gentle, tired kisses until you both eventually fall asleep in each other's arms.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

leon takes out his frustrations on you (sexually)

pairing: leon x afab reader

cw: smut, pwp, somewhat rough, selfish sex

summary: little leon x reader drabble that i wrote in the middle of the night while i was half-asleep after playing re6 (so in my mind this is re6 leon)

wc: 676

When Leon comes home from a hard day at work or a grueling mission, before he collapses into bed and becomes comatose, he takes whatever he needs from you.

Leon’s typically a giver, a life saver, a people pleaser. He’s the type of man who feels guilty for being the hero - he’d never call himself that, though, but you would. The hero who got little recognition and a whole lot of stress. He’s often come home from long days at work and grueling missions pissed off, and rightfully so. Still, he tried to hide his anger, tried to drink it away, especially tried to hide us from you. But you wanted to help, so you devised an agreement with him - when he felt like he needed to get his frustrations out, he didn’t have to say anything, he could just carry you to the bedroom and fuck his feelings away. This was better - he hated talking about his shit and you got off on him using you like a sex toy. 

One night he came home after working late. You were about to offer him dinner, but he took your hand and muttered, “bedroom”. Without another word, he led you to your bed and gestured for you to lie down. He shrugged off his jacket and slipped out of his shoes. You discarded your shirt, but before you could take off your pants, he yanked them off along with your panties. He dipped his fingers into you - he hadn’t bothered to remove his gloves - and thrusted them roughly in and out, curling them so they hit your g-spot every time. You were already moaning and dripping wet when he flipped you onto your stomach. You couldn’t see him but you could hear the clinking of his belt buckle and his zipper being pulled down. You were flat on your stomach so he lifted your hips and parted your legs to give himself better access. He slid into you in one stroke, giving you no time to adjust. When you moaned, you felt his hand smack your ass. He fucked you harder which made your moans into sobs. Leon responded to your desperate sounds by saying, “shut up” in a deep voice through gritted teeth. If he’d ever told you to shut up outside of sex, you’d be offended - and horrified since that’d be incredibly out of character for him - but now, you were soaking the sheets. 

Leon didn’t talk much about his professional life outside of the bedroom. While his hips slammed into yours, skin slapping against skin over and over, he complained about his day. It was nearly incomprehensible, not only because you had no frame of reference for the DSO’s day-to-day, but also because he would repeatedly get interrupted by his own moans and expletives. 

“I can’t fucking stand him and his stupid bullshit plans - ah fuck,” - all they care about is - Jesus Christ - themselves and I - fuck you’re so tight - none of them could take half of the shit I go through and they still have the audacity to - oh god, fuck yes, do that again - they’re a bunch of assholes who - fuck, ‘m gonna cum inside you.”

After he came, you gave him a minute to catch his breath while you got yourself cleaned up. Then, when you hopped back in bed he was all over you, kissing your cheeks and telling you how much he loves you. 

He asked, “how was your day, baby?”

“It was okay.”

“Do you wanna come sit on my face and complain about it?”

“I already came while you were fucking me,” you told him. 

“Oh so that’s what that puddle on the sheets is?” he teased. 

In reality, his proposal to have you sit on his face was a selfish one. Leon was a pussy addict, but as usual, you’d let him have his way. 

[bloatedandalone04]

Good as Gold

➪the one where leon fell in love with you from the second he saw you.

Warnings: angst, fluff, indications of smut, leon pining over you, jealous leon, mentions of injuries, mentions of blood, blood, descriptions of blood + injuries, you all really need to stop with those foul leon fics, i am so serious, he deserves some fluff once in a while, damn

Word Count: 5.5k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The first time Leon saw you, he knew he wanted to do everything in his power to protect you, despite you being a very good agent and more than capable of protecting yourself. 

Still, he knew he wanted to be around you all the time, and he was quite certain he was in love with you after the first conversation the two of you had. 

When you and he were assigned as partners for this mission where he and you had to act like a couple, he was borderline thrilled, then he realized he would be spending most of his time looking out for you instead of actually getting the information he needed from the doctors. 

It was an attempt at stopping a virus before it got out, and Leon had to go full camouflage for this one. He cut his hair short and hated it immediately, but the look you gave him once you saw it for the first time had him appreciating it a bit more. 

He had to wear a suit that night, and even he thought he looked quite nice, but nowhere near as good as you looked. You were given a dark blue dress with a slit in the side, and he was obsessed with it from the minute he saw it. 

Then you hooked your arm in his and stayed glued to his side the whole night as you both listened to the drunk doctors spill all the information on the virus, and the recorder in Leon’s suit pocket caught everything. 

When you two got back to the hotel you were staying at for just one night, you fell asleep with your head on Leon’s chest, still wearing that sinful dress he wanted to take off you. Neither of you planned for that mission very well, even forgetting to pack extra clothes, so you both had to sleep in your formal attire. Leon took off his jacket and put it over you while you slept, and he spent his night trying to figure out how to face you the next morning after finding out how well your body fit against his own. 

He didn’t mean to, really. They had given him a room with only one bed, and neither of you wanted the other to sleep on the uncomfortable couch in the corner. 

You talked about everything and nothing at all, and Leon was so close to saying those three words to you, but decided it wasn’t the best time. 

Oh, how he regretted that one. 

Another mission you were given together had the addition of Chris, and that annoyed Leon since he knew the Redfield brother had a thing for you, too. It was annoying because Leon didn’t just have a thing for you, he was in love with you, and had been for a year at that point. 

The mission was going well, but Leon had to continuously watch Chris flirt with you, and you did nothing about it since you had no idea about the way Leon felt about you. He was extremely good at hiding it, though he did try to show it in subtle ways; like keeping you behind him at all times whenever you were near something potentially dangerous, or how he loosely laced his fingers with yours under the table as you and he debriefed from missions, how he always let you come to him whenever the weight of the job felt like it was too much for you to handle. 

He did all of it for you, and he wished he was man enough to do more.

Because now he watched as Chris brushed your messy hair behind your ear as you caught your breath from the ten minute sprint you all just did to escape the infected villagers in the tunnels. 

Leon reloaded his gun as he took off in a random direction, muttering something to you about staying with Chris as he went to search for more ammo and weapons. 

Maybe it was petty, and maybe he was acting like a child, but he couldn’t help it.

He regretted it, though, because as soon as he got back to you and Chris, the villagers had found their way to the three of you, and they weren’t letting up this time. 

Leon’s ears were ringing as three different guns fired in opposite directions, and when he turned to check on you after hearing your quiet cry, his beloved gun almost slipped from his fingers as he saw the pitchfork that was embedded in your abdomen. 

He watched as Chris shot both the pitchfork wielder as well as another villager that was coming for you in your weakened state. He watched as you pulled the pitchfork out of you and feebly tossed it aside, and he watched as your body betrayed itself and began to sink to the ground. 

Before you could reach it, Leon finally snapped out of it and nearly got impaled himself as he ran over to you. He heard the sound of Chris shooting the man who tried giving Leon the same fate as you as he caught your body and lowered both himself and you to the ground.  

Blood formed on three places on your shirt, and Leon pressed his whole hand and forearm down against them without thinking twice. Your cry of pain had him wincing as he looked over at your pale face, and he felt his heart rate spike as he saw the blood that began pooling in your mouth. “Hey,” he said quietly as Chris single-handedly took out the last four guys before he was crouching on the other side of you. “Keep your eyes open for me.”

You give him a pointed look, even in your current state, as you mumble, “I’m trying to,”

“I know,” he muttered as he looked over at Chris, panic poorly hidden on both their faces. “What do we do? We can’t leave her. We need to get her out of here, she needs-”

“I know, Leon,” Chris cut him off, and Leon was sure the brunet was surprised at how quickly Leon had lost all control the second you had gotten hurt. “You need to get her out of here. Find the surface as fast as you can, and don’t look back for anything.” 

Chris tried to take control of the situation as best as he could, but Leon was barely listening as he looked back down at you and saw your emotionless face staring back up at him. A ghost of a smile was on your lips, but he knew you were fading quickly. “Hey,” he called again, much stricter this time, but you just blinked slowly. “Stay with me, okay? You’re not dying today. Not here.”

“Leon,” Chris said, reaching over and grabbing his shoulder. “You need to focus. Get her out of here, I’ll take care of the rest, you both need to get out of here. Now.”

Leon barely nodded as he picked you up and wrapped his arms around your middle and under your thighs. You cry again, and Leon doesn’t look back at Chris as he takes off in the direction you all came from. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, refusing to stop as he ran through the tunnel and towards where he hoped the surface was. 

He knew he was abandoning the mission, even though he was advised to never do that. But he didn’t care. He couldn’t just leave you to die, he wouldn’t. 

“Leon,” you whispered, and it had him moving even faster. “It’s okay, I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt that much anymore.”

He knew you were going into shock, and he refused to see you reach the stage that came after that as he kicked open the gate and fled from the tunnels. “You’re okay,” he rasped as he ran through the small town and towards the Jeep. “You’re okay, baby.”

The name slipped out before he could stop it, but he didn’t care at this point, and neither did you as you smiled up at him. “I’ve always wanted to hear you call me that,” you confessed in a tired voice as he finally reached the car. “You’re my favorite person, Leon. I..”

Leon looked down and saw that your eyes were closed now, and he cursed as he opened the back door and gently set you down on the seats. He climbed in with you as he grabbed Chris’ jacket and wrapped it around your wound. He tied it pretty harshly around your middle in hopes to stop the blood, then felt around on your neck for your pulse. 

When he found it, he felt how faint it was and it sent him into a further panic as he got out of the back and into the driver’s seat. He knew Chris would be fine, and he also knew he couldn’t wait for him as he started the car and drove away from the town.

He’d have to send someone back for Chris, and then take the hit for being the one to abandon the mission. 

But if it meant saving you, he didn’t give a fuck about the repercussions. 

Leon got you back to salvation, but wasn’t allowed to be in the room with you as the nurses and doctors ripped your shirt after tearing off Chris’ jacket to see how bad your wound was. 

He was left in the hall as they worked on you, his arms and shirt covered in your blood. The sight was one he never wanted to see, and he knew he should go wash it off, but instead he stayed right there. 

This wasn’t a typical hospital, there were no waiting rooms, so he leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the hall to your room, and stayed there for God knows how long until a doctor finally came out and told him hours later that they had managed to stop the internal bleeding. But you had lost a lot of blood, and he was wearing most of it. 

He still wasn’t allowed to see you as they moved on to test you for any viruses, and he knew how long that could take. So he caved and went home to shower and wash off the red that covered him. 

Then he was right back in that hall after he changed into clean clothing. It was nearing a full twenty four hours since he carried you out of those tunnels, and he was beginning to go crazy. 

He needed to see you, needed to see for himself that you were okay and alive. He couldn’t live with himself if something happened to you when he was just a few feet away. 

The night nurse went in to check on you and accidentally woke Leon up from his spot on the floor. His back was against the wall as he looked up at her, and she gave him a wary smile. “I’m sorry, Agent Kennedy. I didn’t mean to wake you,” she apologized and he just waved her off. “I have to go report on her status, but she’s fine for now and will most likely recover within a few days.”

Leon perked up at that. “She’s going to be okay?”

“Yes,” the nurse nodded, then saw the look on his face and added, “That doesn’t mean you can sneak in there while I’m gone. I mean it, Kennedy. Her test results haven’t come back yet, she could be contagious with something.”

Leon nodded and watched as the nurse walked off before he promptly stood up and quietly opened the door to your room. He knew you didn’t have any viruses, he was with you the whole time, and he would’ve gotten it, too. 

After slowly closing the door behind him, Leon turned to look at you. His heart fell at the blank expression on your face, and the way your eyes didn’t move behind your closed eyelids. 

He had only ever seen you asleep a couple of times, one being back in that hotel room, another being when you had fallen asleep in the backseat of the Jeep as you waited for Chris to arrive so you could go on the mission, and both times you appeared to be dreaming. Your eyes never stopped moving behind closed lids, so to see them be so still now made him feel anxious. 

Without being able to stop himself, he walked over to you and stood next to the bed, his left hand finding yours on top of the covers. “Hey,” he mumbled as he extended his leg and pulled a nearby chair towards the bed without ever taking his eyes off you. His fingers tangle with yours as he sits down, and your warm skin against his had his heart calming down just a bit.

He looked over at your pretty face, the dirt and grime you’d collected from the tunnels now gone, and what replaced it was a few cuts here and there. Leon still thought you looked beautiful, and he wished he had told you that before this. He should’ve done so many things before this, but he was a coward when it came to you. 

But he wouldn’t be after you wake up. 

He would tell you that he loved you and how he needed you in his life. Because, after all, 

“You’re my favorite person, too,”

The same nurse from last night had found him with his head next to your hip on the bed, his hand still locked with yours, and she softly scolded him as she escorted him back out of the room and told him that he’d get to see you in a few days from now, and that you’d be awake by then.

That, along with the physical proof that you were okay, was what he needed to be able to talk through how the rest of the mission went with Chris. The eldest Redfield had successfully gathered up all the needed samples for the virus, as well as took out a large portion of those already infected with it before he caught a ride out of there and came to check on you.

Leon couldn’t even be annoyed at that since it was because of Chris that he was able to get you the help you needed in time. 

With no further updates on both you and the case, Leon was left to return back to his sad and empty apartment with the files Chris gave him to read over. It helped keep his mind off you for a bit, and when he was about halfway through the paperwork, he stopped to answer the door when someone knocked on it.

He opened it slowly, then swung it open when he saw that it was you who was on the other side. You look a lot better than you did the last time he saw you, and your small smile had his knees feeling a bit weak as you gazed at one another. “Hi,” you say quietly and Leon had to blink a few times to make sure this was real, and that he hadn’t fallen asleep at the table with the case files. 

“Hi,” he said back once he confirmed that he was awake and aware, and your smile grew a bit. 

“I heard you were the one who risked the whole mission to get me help after I stupidly got stabbed with a pitchfork,” you murmur and Leon wanted to take you into his arms at how you were still able to find humor in the very situation that had him nearly losing his mind. “Then I laughed and said that Leon Kennedy wouldn’t risk a mission for anything and how nothing else was that important to him. And then I realized that wasn’t true after I remembered how you carried me out of those tunnels and stayed with me until you couldn’t anymore.”

Leon stayed silent as he confirmed your words with a single nod. 

“Why did you do that?” You ask as you wrap one arm around your middle, and Leon wanted to pull you into his apartment and sit you down so you weren’t straining your wounds. “Why would you risk that?”

“You should sit down, Y/n,” he suggested instead of answering your question, but you just shook your head. 

“Why did you risk it?” You ask again. “You saved my life, but I’m not worth that risk, Leon.”

Leon shook his head as he stepped towards you. “You are worth that risk,” he couldn’t keep the way your words offended him out of his voice, and you picked up on it as you stayed still and asked, 

“Why did you risk it?” 

He knew you wouldn’t be satisfied with anything other than an honest answer, and he wasn’t going to go back on his words and lie to you about how he felt. Seeing you with your eyes closed and your body covered in blood almost made him lose his mind, and he couldn’t continue to live without telling you just how much you meant to him. 

“Because I love you,” he answered as if it was the most simplest question he’d ever been asked, and he supposed it was. “And I couldn’t live with myself if you had died on that mission and I didn’t.”

Your mouth closes as you take in his words, and when you begin to blink away tears, he continues,

“I know you can protect yourself, and I know you’re not defenseless, but I still want to be the one who protects you,” he took your hand in his, similar to the way he did back in your hospital room. “I want to be the one to take the hit for you, or the stab for you, or the bullet. You really think you’re not worth the risk? I’d risk it all for you all over again in a heartbeat. Without a second thought, I’d do it again.”

You bite down on your lip as you lace your fingers with his and allow him to pull you into his apartment. He guides you over to the couch, but before he could gesture for you to sit, you push him down instead and drape your thighs over his. “You love me?” You asked in a quiet tone as you hesitantly placed your hand on his shoulder. 

Leon nodded, giving you full control over everything right now and keeping his hands at his sides.

You force away a smile as you shyly ask, “Will you say it again?” and Leon wasn’t used to having you act so nervous and hesitant around him. Usually you were so confident and collected, but right now you were allowing yourself to be vulnerable with him, and he loved you even more for it. 

He didn’t think he could deny you anything right now, so he nodded in response to your question. “I love you,” he said again, then added with a barely-there smirk, “Baby.”

You give him a pretty smile and lean in to press your forehead against his as you guide his arms up to gently wrap around your middle. “I’ve always wanted to hear you call me that,” you repeated your words from earlier in the week, and Leon hummed as the tip of his nose hit yours. 

“I know,” he rasped. “I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you that I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you since the second I saw you.”

“Leon,” you murmur and gently run your fingers through his short hair. It still hadn’t fully grown out yet, but he didn’t mind it as you softly tug on the strands. “It doesn’t matter how long it took you. I would’ve waited forever, I think. Because I love you, too.”

He let out a sigh of relief he had no idea he was holding as he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours. “I nearly lost it when I carried you out of those tunnels,” he confessed. “I thought I’d lost my chance to tell you how I felt, and how beautiful I think you are.”

The words sounded foreign to him as he didn’t have a whole lot of time to put towards a relationship due to his job, but that didn’t make them any less true. 

And you knew this as you caressed the side of his face and traced his various freckles with your thumb. “Maybe soon you’ll be able to show me how you feel, too,” you teased and pressed yourself closer to him. “Thank you for saving my life, Leon. And thank you for finally telling me the words I’ve been wanting to hear from you for over a year now. I never let myself believe that you could ever feel that way about me.”

Leon was careful with your stomach area as he ran his hands up your back and gently gripped the back of your neck. He kissed you deeply and felt his heart skip a beat at the quiet moan you released, and he knew it would be the best kiss he’s ever shared with someone. Because it was you.  “Believe it,” he mumbled. “Because I’ve been yours since day one.”

[mssorceressupreme]

Summary: with you being a med-jack and Minho being a runner, there was hardly any time for the two of you to spend together. Ultimately, you decide to entertain your boyfriend and tease him because he’s not giving you attention.

Warnings: spicy content, not proofread so there might be mistakes lol

——

Tease

“And…done! You should be good to go now Winston.” You chimed, after bandaging Winston’s fifth wound of the week. Being a slicer was no easy feat, the amount of slicers and builders that rushed to the med-jack hut on a daily basis shocked you. You knew there would be cuts here and there, but not to that extent.

“Maybe they’re just coming for you.” Jeff joked, observing as Winston strolled out, admiring his bandaged wound.

“Please, if Minho knew that, they’d all be fed to the grievers.”

Speaking of Minho, you wondered what he was up to. Life in the glade was a constant whirlwind of activity, especially with Minho being a runner and you being a med-jack.

Days turned into weeks with barely a moment to spare for each other, your interactions reduced to fleeting glances and hurried conversations. You missed him terribly, the ache of his absence growing stronger with each passing day.

Determined to surprise him and steal back some time together, you planned to visit him at the runners hut.

It was unconventional, especially since only runners were allowed in there, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Hey Jeff, is it alright if I call it a day? Got some things on my mind…”

“If by things you mean Minho then no.” He began, to which you frowned jokingly as a response, “Tsk tsk just go. Don’t get too comfortable, I’ll get Clint to grab you asap if there are any emergencies!” He warned, waving me off.

“You’re the best!” you beamed, grabbing your belongings before leaving the hut. By belongings, you meant your jacket and drink bottle.

——

You slipped into something skimpy, a red lace bra and underwear. Covering your undergarments with your zip up jacket and a pair of black shorts. Honestly, you didn’t even know why these came up in the box once day but you mentally thanked the creators for sending this set up.

Taking a deep breath, you made your way to the hut. It was late in the afternoon, Minho and the other runners would’ve been back by now.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you placed your hand on the door, hesitant to push it open. Muffled voices could be heard from the other side of the door, it was no surprise that the runners were engrossed in discussing their latest findings in the maze.

It wouldn’t hurt to be selfish for once and have Minho to yourself would it? Just this once, you sucked your breath in and pushed the door open.

Minho was at the centre, his focus on the model of the maze was intense, but the moment you entered, the atmosphere shifted.

His attention immediately shifted to you, while the others were still engrossed in their discussion.

You smirked, lowering the zip of your jacket slightly, allowing for a glimpse of your lace bra to be exposed. Before zipping it up again, so the other runners wouldn’t see anything explicit.

Minho cleared his throat, his eyes widening slightly as he took in my appearance. The other runners paused and darted their focus towards Minho, then to you.

“Oh hey Y/N!” Ben greeted, “sorry we didn’t see you there, we were a bit occupied.”

“Don’t let me stop you guys, pretend I’m not here.” you I nsist, walking towards Minho.

As you walked past him, your fingers brushed against his biceps, sending shivers down his spine. Oh it gave you great satisfaction to see the leader, the great keeper of the runners, melting at your touch.

“Jack, Leon—”, Minho began, “anything new from your section today?”

“Yeah actually, we found another opening…” Leon spoke, explaining this new opening they found but Minho, as strong, athletic and intelligent as he was, could not focus. He was getting flustered from your touch, well, to be fair, both of you were definitely touch deprived.

Your hands grazed his lower back, then started massaging his back muscles. To the others, it appeared as a normal affectionate gesture from one’s partner, but to Minho, he could not contain himself. This was much needed and he wanted to let loose by moaning out loud.

“Uh huh…I see…” he mumbled, nodding as Leon spoke.

You smirked to yourself as you knew he was crumbling, giving in to your contact.

You managed to find his weak spot as you further massaged into it, he jerked, humming slightly. “That’s good…” he hummed, you weren’t sure if he was referring to you or to Leon.

“We were thinking of exploring it further tomorrow and—” Jack was interrupted by Minho’s sudden shift in mood,

“Noted. Let’s explore that section tomorrow. You guys did a great job today, and uh, meeting adjourned!” Minho clapped his hands together.

None of the runners moved a muscle. “Don’t you want to talk about our progress? We haven’t discussed that yet? Or areas of improvement? You haven’t even—” Ben was the first to pick up on this unusual behaviour.

“We will carry that forward and discuss that in tomorrow’s meeting.”

Ben raised his brow, looking to the other runners for help. “But we haven’t—”

“You guys are free to go.” Minho was abrupt, you smirked to yourself knowing how needy he was for you right now.

The runners filed out, their expressions a mix of curiosity and astonishment. You could feel their eyes on you but you kept your gaze locked on Minho.

Once the door closed behind the last of them, the room fell into charged silence. Minho stayed in the same spot, gaze focused on the maze, but mind elsewhere.

“You needy runner.” You whispered into his ear, trailing my hand against his waist.

Grabbing him by the belt, you pulled him closer to you. His body was now shifted to you and merely an inch away from yours.

You eyed him up and down, it was now apparent why the meeting was adjourned early. “So hard for me and I barely touched you.” His bulge was starting to grow bigger and you could see it on his face that he desired you immensely.

Minho stepped closer to you, “What brings you here dressed like that, in the middle of an important meeting no less?”

“I missed you,” you admitted, taking another step forward, “We hardly see each other anymore, and I needed to remind you what you’re coming back to.”

He reached out his fingers, brushing against your cheeks then cupping them. He leaned in for a kiss but you put your finger against his lip, “You won’t get this so easily. No attention for days and now you expect to kiss me so easily?”

You honestly had no idea where this confidence or dominance was coming from, it was always him who took the lead.

But this was an interesting change, and you could see that he too, was intrigued by this shift.

“You need to take a seat.” You shoved him against a chair forcefully and he smirked.

“You’re so sexy when you take the lead Y/N.”

“Watch.” You commanded, as you slowly unzipped your hoodie, sensually. Not breaking eye contact with him while doing so.

You smiled, feeling a thrill of anticipation. Your movements slow and deliberate, savouring the way his eyes followed your every move. His gaze grew hungrier, more intense and you could feel the heat between you two building.

Piece by piece, your apparel fell to the floor, and with each discarded item, the distance between you two seemed to close.

His desire for you grew with each movement. It was no secret that he was now fully hard on. Minho’s breathing was ragged, his desire palpable. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” He murmured, his voice hoarse.

You stepped closer and sat on him, now straddling him on the chair. His budge against your heat made you even more needy for him.

“I missed you so much.” You say as you began grinding against him. He let out a moan, throwing his head back.

“Fuck, my girlfriend is breathtaking in this set.” He admired your beauty, every detail of you had him awestruck.

You leaned into him, plating soft kisses on his neck. He let out a shudder, breathing heavily as you sucked on his sweet spot.

“Y/N…” he moaned.

You continued to move your hips again, feeling your wetness grow, you let out a soft moan as the pleasure grew. The pent up neediness you had for Minho was finally getting released.

He lifted his knees up adding to the pressure beneath as you picked up the pace, making it more pleasurable for you. “M-Minho—” you could feel yourself getting close.

Your moans became desperate heavy pants, while he smirked, seeing you melt into him. He bucked his hips up, then it came crashing onto you, a wave of pleasure, released.

You let out a loud moan, as your walls throbbed, ecstasy clouded your thoughts. “Minho!” You cried, as you felt him release too. The wetness of your womanhood against his now, wet pants was satisfactory.

You brushed your lips against his. He responded instantly, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. The kiss was hungry, desperate, a reflection of all the time you’d been forced apart.

In that moment, the world outside the hut ceased to exist. It was just you two, lost in each other, reclaiming the time you’d lost.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, “I’ll make more time for us,” Minho promised, his voice filled with sincerity, “I can’t keep doing this, being away from you.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” I replied, smiling.

“I love you.” He smiled against me, gently stroking my hair.

“Now let’s take this to the bedroom where I can properly take care of my baby.” He demanded, taking off his harness.

[leonw4nter]

HAIII!!! I saw that ur requests r open!! Can u write a death island x gn!reader where the reader squeezes his cheeks n' it's all fluffy n' cute? I feel like behind all that muscle is baby fat that's just MEANT to be squeezed - 🐰

It Only Takes Half A Bottle of Whiskey

DI!Leon x GN!Reader

“Details of the mission coincide with the objectives laid down to consider this mission a success and therefore, I would like to consider this case closed and marked successful. Congratulations to our very own agents Kennedy and L/N.”

The room erupted in claps, lips spreading into relieved smiles. The last mission was not easy, many undertakings taken in order to see the mission to its success and one of the many measures taken was a false marriage between you and Leon, complete with a wedding and wedding bands, as well as expertly fabricated marriage certificates in order to pass as ordinary newly-weds who had normal jobs as IT technicians. The entire ordeal took almost 2 years, which seems plenty to the average person but an incredibly short notice to agents assigned on this demanding commission. Despite the mission being over, you two still had to uphold the married couple facade and keep working on the IT company before drafting letters of resignation in order to not rouse any suspicions with the people who had grown to know and be familiar with you and Leon. One of the procedures involved coming home together holding hands as you passed through the exit, getting in the same car, living under one roof, and retiring in the same bed.

As soon as you two get home, you rush over to collapse on the couch with a loud exhale before taking the glasses off of your face and setting them beside you. You recline your head and run a hand through your hair, eyes shut as you try to block out the noises of the world. Leon removes his dress shoes and walks around the duplex in his black socks, his shoes in one hand and your shoes in the other as he returns them to the shoe cabinet before walking back to the couch and sitting beside you. He takes your glasses and sets them down at the coffee table in front of you and takes his seat, letting out a loud sigh of his own as he gets the remote and turns the TV on to a cooking channel. Shrugging his jacket off, he turns his head to observe you for a moment only to see your eyes staring into the white ceiling of the dim living room.

“You tired?” He asks as he folds his jacket and places it on the arm of the couch, too tired to get up and place them in the bedroom or think of changing into loungewear. You nod, sitting back up as you wipe a hand across your face before reaching to get your glasses and put them back on.

“I need a drink after all that shit,” you groan as you undo one more button of your button-up. Leon hums and turns his attention back to the chef cutting the carrots, which is short-lived as he tilts it again to face you.

“I’ll help you to bed, how’s that sound? It’s better than alcohol.”

“Help me to bed after I have a nice, cold, glass of double-black whiskey.”

With that, you get up from the couch and walk up to the alcohol cabinet to get the glass. As you open the cabinet, you feel a warmth press against your back and see a strong arm reach up for 2 glasses. Leon closes the cabinet door with his free hand and sets two glasses down. His action scared you for a little bit since he walked with virtually no noise and you only felt his presence when his muscled front pressed against you, effectively trapping you in if he planned on hurting you but thank god he didn’t. He takes a jug of apple juice and pours it into his glass instead of the whiskey, which you aren’t too surprised about; he’s been 3 months sober. You just stare at him, admiring the way his arms looked amazing with crisp white sleeves rolled up until his elbows, a hand resting on the marble as he takes the glass and drinks the juice. He raises an eyebrow when he spots you staring in his peripheral, setting the glass down with a small clink against the kitchen counter.

“Like what you see?” He asks with a lazy grin and a wink. You turn your attention back to the glass he set in front of you, staring at it so intensely you would have shattered the glass with the daggers you were shooting with your tired eyes.

“You wish,” you retort as you pour the dark liquid into the glass and toss in a block or two of ice before taking a swig and feeling the liquid burn its way into your system despite the coldness that the ice offered. You hear Leon softly chuckle before having another drink of his fruit juice, his soft gaze watching over you as you take sips and loud sighs after you swallow the amber liquid. You take the tall bottle and your heavy-bottomed whiskey glass and sit down on the wooden floors, placing them down beside you. You take another swig and look at Leon, patting the space beside you.

“Sit,” you say.

“You’re saying that like I’m a dog,” your ‘husband’ responds.

“C’mere, boy! C’mere!” You teasingly say in a higher pitched voice, clapping with both your hands to beckon him to sit beside you.

Leon rolls his eyes but sits beside you, propping one knee up to rest his hand on as he looks at your glass.

“Good boy,” you say with a sly grin.

“Okay you’re a freak,” he says as he jokingly begins to sit up again but not before your free hand shoots up to grasp at his wrist.

“Okay, I’m sorry I won’t do that.”

“Right.”

“Please? Please? C’mon Leon, don’t be boring.”

“Fine.”

You smile and chuckle softly as he sits back down beside you, knuckles occasionally brushing against each other. You two sit in complete silence, the silence interrupted only by the sounds of breathing and sighs. Your gaze fell on the gold band wrapped around the base of your ring fingers, studying the way the light reflected off of the smooth surface. Eventually, your gaze flitted to Leon’s right ring finger to admire his own ring.

“It looks damn good on him,” you thought to yourself. “Damn, marriage is a good look for you, Kennedy.”

He absent-mindedly fidgeted with his ring, tilting and adjusting it; that’s what he always did when he was deep in thought or bored. You noticed it became a habit as soon as you two had to wear these rings everywhere, even on side missions. Although he could remove it when you two were in your own home, he chose to keep it on which you followed suit since it only felt right.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

The whiskey soon started tasting like water and now you were down to unbuttoning the second button of your work shirt. It was a little harder to keep your head up now and your lids were threatening to close. You leaned your head on Leon’s shoulder, not missing how you felt him tense up despite your inebriated condition.

“Leon, ’m sleepy.”

He looked at you, seeing how the whiskey caused your cheeks and ears to burn pink like a Fuji apple. Your lids were droopy and your eyes were glossy, an obvious sign that you were drunk and done for tonight. He chuckles softly as he adjusts you so he could carry you to your shared room.

“I’m fine, Leon.” you confidently slur as he lifted your frame up and out of the kitchen.

“Nope, you’re not. We’re going to bed now.”

“C’monnn… I can handle my… liquor like a champ...”

Leon gave you a stern look before setting you down on your side of the bed before making a quick trip back to the kitchen to fetch you a glass of water and pills to take. Despite the frequent jokes he made to make you feel a lot more comfortable in his presence, you would be lying if you didn’t enjoy this authoritative side of him outside of the field. He comes back and sets them on your bedside table, making it near enough without making the water prone to spilling due to your uncoordinated state.

“Anything else you need?” He almost slipped up and called you ‘honey’.

“Bath.”

“Gotcha.”

Since it would prove to be too difficult to get you cleaned up right now, he settled on finding a basin and a rag to wash you with. After asking your permission, he removed your garments before wiping you down to let yourself feel a little more clean before a proper bath in the morning and dressed you in a clean shirt and sleep shorts before freshening himself up to get in bed with you and calling it a night. After a few minutes, he got on his side of the bed but still kept some distance so you wouldn’t feel like your privacy was being invaded. He shifted, moving as gently as he could so the mattress wouldn’t move along with him and disrupt your sleep. He finally managed to lay on his side, his arms crossed and his eyes shut but he still kept his ears active. He suddenly remembered something and opened his eyes again; he turned around and glanced at you.

“Good night,” he said.

Normally, he’d add a sappy nickname like “sweetheart” or “honey” at the end to make his husband act feel more natural for him but he decided not to this night since he felt weird. Weird in a way that if he said it, he’d jump out of bed and dive out of a window and plummet into a pool of pink and red heart balloons while glitter bombs went off around him. He knew what he felt but he didn’t want to give it a name and properly label it; he wasn’t even sure if you saw him the same way he saw you. When you didn’t give any kind of response, he turned around and sat up to look at you through the dark, the white streetlights being the only source of light beaming in through gray curtains. He inched closer to see you and placed a finger just underneath your nostrils, hoping to feel a soft gust of warm air be expelled. When he felt that, he placed a finger on the pulse point of your neck before concluding that you really are fine, just deeply asleep.

He chuckles to himself, smiling softly as he extends a hand to brush some hair away from your forehead. Before he can stop himself, that small gesture turns into him adjusting the duvet so you wouldn’t sweat under warm bundles of fabric sometime in the night. Now, he’s trapped in your arms when you quickly extend your arms above you and yanked him down to your body. All while your eyes were still shut.

He could easily escape and retreat back to his side of the bed and really call it a night this time but he doesn’t. He decides to stay like that for a bit and he knows why but then again, he doesn’t want to name the reason.

“Y’think you’re so slick, Kennedy,” you groggily mumble. His head is pressed against your chest, his arms extended from his side in an awkward position, and he subconsciously holds a breath in.

“Jus’ tell me if you wanna cuddle,” you slur. “I know y’wanna coz I wanna too.”

You pull him off of you and lay him back down on his side of the bed, frozen in shock and baffled at how things have taken for a turn. He lays still and watches you silently with wide eyes, observing you. You crawl near him and stare at him at the side… well, an excuse of a stare since your lids were drooping and you couldn’t seem to get your eyes to focus nicely on him. You sat up and placed a hand on his stubbly cheek, gently rubbing on the bristly cheek with a soft thumb. He tensed at the delicate feel of your hands on his face, handling it with so much care as if he’s a fragile piece of artwork. A pop of color spreads on his cheeks and the tips of his ears as you look him in the eyes as if you’re trying to count all the specks of gray he didn’t know his eyes had while trying to fish out a well-hidden feeling within his weary soul.

“Ow!” Leon yelps when you suddenly pinch a cheek of his just as his eyes were about to close and savor the wholesomeness of the moment. “What’d you do that for?!”

“Y’ve got… puffy cheeks. I love that in a man.”

“Puffy cheeks?”

You give his cheek a poke before pinching them again, this time much softer than the first since we voiced out his discomfort. You continue poking and pinching the skin bristly with coarse hairs, occasionally squishing them together to make his lips puckered up. He relaxes eventually, letting you knead and feel his face. He probably had more wrinkles on his face than most men his age do and he knows he doesn’t have the best skin ever and he’s thankful that you’re drunk enough to not notice the blemishes on his face. He wants to let his hands rest on your waist and just let you do your thing but he decides against it; you’re drunk and you aren’t in the clearest headspace right now. Although his intentions with wanting to perch his hand on your waist is nothing sexual, he still doesn’t want to proceed with that.

“Gosh, your spouse after me is going to be sooo lucky,” you mumble. “You’re so sweet, kind, sexy as fuck… you’re also intimidating sometimes but you’re like a teddy bear.”

“Teddy bear, huh?”

“A teddy bear with… a teddy bear strapped with guns, bullets, and knives.”

“A teddy bear that can’t get through airport security, basically.”

His response makes you laugh a little louder than it should have, a hand falling to your chest and you throw your head back. Leon didn’t think his joke was that funny until you laughed and chortled, grinning and beaming like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. Maybe it didn’t matter anymore if no one else laughed at his lame jokes as long as you did. And what did you mean “spouse after me”? Would he be able to find someone else after your “marriage” is dissolved? He fears that he wouldn’t love as truthfully and wholly as he does with you, that his soul would always look for you in the people he’d see. What if he wants his spouse to be you, even after this mission? “Agent L/N” is for everyone to praise but at the end of the day, Y/N will be his to love. You adjust yourself and nearly plop on his side, tucked underneath his arm with one hand still on his face. Slowly, you grow drowsier as sleep pulls you deep in its embrace.

“Just… for yawn tonight,” you softly whisper while safely tucked into his side.

“You can… forget this, if you want.” Another yawn before you totally fall asleep again.

“Gosh, that hangover is going to kill you tomorrow.” Leon whispers as he adjusts the sheets over your sleeping frame again.

He shifts in the bed, making sure the arm you’re laying on is still; he wants to move it around and get circulation back in that arm again but he’d deal with a purple arm in the morning if it meant giving you a nice rest before the alcohol in your system hits you like a train tomorrow. He gazes at the ring on his hand one last time and feels a surge of joy and pride in his heart, hoping that you feel the same when you look at your own ring.

NOTE - Before I update y'all with stuff going on in my life rn, I just wanna thank 🐰 anon for this request, I hope you liked it <3 OKAY. So I was gone for almost a month because so much happened in the time that I wasn't posting much-- I passed an entrance exam to a school I will transfer to after this year is over (I'm still in the process of passing requirements), I decided to start a Chris Redfield mochiposting IG account, I got lost in another town with my classmate while walking to a groupmate's house (a man was following us both but luckily nothing bad happened to us), I got sick twice in a row in a single month (1st time: screamed too much during a sports fest, did not drink water bc there was no water around the place; 2nd time: I was running low on sleep and did not have time for a break bc of the things I was doing), I had two infections in two different systems in my body (the same time as I got sick in the aforementioned stuff :3), and had my first ever sleepover at my BFF's house (slept at 4am cb we were eating and cooking so much while watching Demon Slayer). I also nosebled while watching filmvxq's (on TT) edit (the one w Take My Breath Away as the audio) and got really lightheaded... this isn't the first time btw <33 I also nosebled over a Vergil edit and I don't know how I keep doing this <33 My neck hurts so much and I have a crippling sushi addiction. SPEAKING OF SUSHI (what I'm about to say next has no relation), I got this TikTok about tubifex worms in a dirty sewer just before I took a bath and I was so disgusted, I was fighting for my life trying not to think about the worms while I was drenched in water. Also, my grades release next Friday and I hope those grades are somewhat sexy bro I can't go to another school with the nastiest math grade... I'm very number stupid... NEWAYS, that's all and thank you for reading my fics!!!! I <33333 UUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!

The dividers are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[emilzke]

Bingo

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x gn!Reader

Summary: The village square was overrun and you & your mission partner Leon fought hard to survive. Yet, the villagers left under the command of the church bell, all dazed, without an explanation—leaving you both with relief and a joke that will change things between the two of you. [Inspired by: “You’re laughing. I told you a joke and you’re laughing. I love you.”]

Content: canon-typical violence, near-death experience, mutual pining ish, fluff

Word Count: 1.6k | Read on AO3

A/N: This can be read as a prequel to Extra and it’s part of a collection of works set during the events of RE4 with agent!Reader. I decided to write this because I thought the text post was very Leon and because you all seemed to enjoy Extra a lot :) way back when.

You almost thought you were hallucinating. Between your ragged panting, trying to regain your breath after fighting off hordes of infected villagers, and the sound of your heart pounding against your chest and your blood pumping, the sound of the church bell ringing and chiming was clear to hear throughout the village. One old villager, who just a few seconds ago was about to snap your head right off your neck, turned around and ignored you with glazed eyes—muttering something in Spanish that you couldn’t quite hear as he walked away slowly in a daze.

Just a few seconds ago, you had that villager’s hands wrapped around your neck as you desperately swiped your knife back and forth at his torso, hopelessly hoping to get some sort of damage in. And just a few minutes before that, your shrill cry to your mission partner could be heard.

“Leon! I can’t hold them off for much longer!” you called out as your voice broke from panic, something you would never do under normal circumstances. You felt some sort of instinctual need to prove yourself to him, your dashing mission partner that you swore would have a much better career as a model with his looks. Why was he wasting his time trying to save not only the President’s daughter but also you when things got really bad, even if you stubbornly never asked for it?

“Huh?” The sound of your partner’s voice shook you out of your confusion and memory, making you turn to him—opposite the pyre in the middle of the square that was still burning. You thought back to his shrill voice calling out to you too. “Hang on! I’ll be right there!” you heard him shout and multiple gunshots subsequently after, you could only assume he was trying his best to get to you as soon as possible. And seeing his position now, closer compared to before, you couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

Leon looked over at you, his heart still pounding with the thought that he would see the life drain from your eyes and your head ripped off your body because he wasn’t quick enough to get to you in time. The walking villagers with their mutterings in a daze put him in a daze as well, all he could do was look and turn around in bewilderment at the scene unfolding in front of him. The sound of an axe falling into a muddy puddle from a villager’s hand made you both whip your heads around with wide eyes, still on edge and bodies fighting for survival in fight or flight. You raised an eyebrow at him, a silent question that he could answer with nothing but a shrug.

He shrugged in his brown leather jacket and could feel his hands shaking, one of them still gripping his gun until his knuckles turned white. The door to the town hall slams shut and your eyes darted around to see the entire village empty.

Leon’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion as it settled in, now that he finally wasn’t fighting for his life. His head turned around and he couldn’t help but take a few steps to see further. Empty. All gone. As if nothing ever happened. As if the sounds of your desperate shouts and panicked gasps didn’t fill his ears and travel straight to his heart, making it pound fast—searching for you—just a few minutes ago. Surreal. Absurd. Ironic.

He scoffed at the barren and empty village surrounding the two of you and shrugged. “Where’s everyone going, bingo?” He asked with a now laidback tone since you both were safe—for now. His tone made your eyes slowly trail in his direction, processing with your eyebrows raised.

“…bingo?” You spluttered out, dumbfounded at his joke, and suddenly it occurred to him that not everybody appreciated his… strange sense of humour, so his eyes darted the other way. You, on the other hand, felt the ends of your lips being brought up without you even having to think.

Your amusement at his joke and the relief it—and the realization that you two were alone for now—brought, started off as a slight chuckle under your breath before your eyes trailed towards his direction. You found his eyes darting from looking at you and at the ground. His blond hair, as he cast his gaze downward in what seemed like a bit of embarrassment, couldn’t hide the slight smile, awkward as ever.

So, your amusement turned into not a slight chuckle but a bright laugh, a giggle at the sight of him and the thought that only Leon would be able to make you this… relieved, amused, and grateful… all at the same time. A weight seemingly lifted off your chest and the thought of the villager just now that had his hands wrapped around your neck just made you laugh even harder. Bingo. You nearly died and yet here you were, cheeks warm and chest light with relief, gratitude, amusement, and some kind of fondness.

Leon’s eyes darted back to you when he realized you were not only chuckling but laughing at his joke, your cheeks scrunched up from your wide smile. With every crease he found from your amusement, the more he couldn’t look away. Your laughter was unrestrained and sure, you might’ve just been a bit delirious from nearly dying but it didn’t matter; he made you laugh and feel comfortable enough to laugh after something like that. Leon felt warmth rise up his neck to his cheeks, making him brush the hair out of his face in reflex.

He’d love to know what was so fascinating about your laugh that made him unable to think clearly, to breathe properly. It was nice to make someone laugh, of course. But the sight of your smile and the sound of your relieved laughter felt like a light was shining brightly at him, interrogating him for his true thoughts. True fondness.

You both had only just arrived in this village and yet there was now an undeniable sense of gratitude that you were the one here with him, that you got paired with him even if it led you into danger like this. At least he was with you. To keep you safe. To keep you from harm so he could continue to see you laugh. The feeling of the bright interrogating light of your smile turned into feeling like there was a cartoon light ball above his head in realization, heart pounding so fast he almost swore it was slower when fighting for his life moments before.

You sigh deeply after chuckling with a slightly giddy grin, falling back to lean against one of the walls of the village's houses, your eyes trailing towards Leon. Your eye contact was what broke him out of the trance that made him stare at you and every crease in your face from your smile. He gulped nervously as his legs moved on their own towards you, thumbing the hem of his leather jacket at the uncertainty his realization brought.

I love you. Those three words so foreign to him never made more sense. Every memory Leon had with you changed, even though they were just late nights scanning over paperwork at the office or you desperately trying to land a kick at him during training. Every memory he had of seeing love everywhere when he couldn’t fully understand it changed too. Leon repeated those over and over again in his thoughts. I love you. Now he knew how it felt to have the words creep up from his heart to his tongue, lips parting with nothing but a ragged sigh escaping and spilling out of him instead of those three words he knew would change things too much for the both of you.

You cocked your head to the side with an amused smile and your eyes narrowed in question—this wasn’t the somewhat calm reaction you expected from him making you laugh deliriously. Leon reached out a shaky hand that went unnoticed by you and placed it on your shoulder. His eyes trailed from his hand placement to your neck, handprints had begun to show now from earlier.

One minute or second more and you’d be taken from him. He wouldn’t be joking then. And you wouldn’t be laughing either. He wouldn’t get to hear the sweet cadence of it or see the creases in your face as you smiled—the features that interrogated him and illuminated a deeper feeling he held than just fondness.

“You… okay?” You asked with a raised eyebrow. You knew he was trying his best to calm your nerves and comfort you after what nearly happened but you figured your reaction to his joke would’ve told him you were okay, more than.

“We should probably… get moving,” he replied, the breathiness in his voice that wasn’t there normally caught your attention and it dawned on you that maybe it wasn’t you that needed calming but him. Leon’s hand fell from your shoulder and his lip curled upwards, making you rethink. “Before more of them come,” he added with a tired but relieved sigh, looking back at you with what you could only describe as gratefulness. You smile back, a fond and thankful smile this time instead of an amused one.

Those weren’t the words Leon wanted to say to you, those three words that he repeated over and over again in his mind. But they made their home there until he could think of nothing else but you when the thought of the word love crossed through his mind.

thank you for reading! . link to series masterlist . masterlist

© emilzke : please do not copy, translate, or repost my works.

[leqonsluv3r]

Do you think you can do Leon x reader who is dealing with a break up? I just got broken up with recently and haven’t been finding any good comfort fics😖

don’t forget me

— leon and you break up leaving you both broken but still pieces together, a blurb

masterlist taglist prompt game

an: i’m sorry this took so long. i hope this helps, im not great at writing angst but i did my best with this one. hope you like it <33 posting again later this week, please like and reblog. kisses, xx.

it hurt so badly.

and you couldn’t just pick one thing.

it wasn’t one singular thing, it was multiple. it was the fact that you and leon were done, the ties had been cut, leaving you both alone.

but what really stung was that you could still smell him on your sheets. see the traces of him left in your apartment. his soap in the shower. the wounds were still fresh and you hated how much they hurt.

you wish you could just hit your head, get amnesia and forget all about him. you wished that he hadn’t ended things, that you hadn’t let him.

you blame yourself, say you should’ve put up more of a fight. but the wound was ripped open and it feels like your bleeding out. even four days later, the sting is still there and your heart is still broken.

you can’t win.

not once, not even now.

you wanted him back but you couldn’t have him.

and that’s what saddens you the most.

but still that doesn’t stop you from your eyes how they water whenever you hear his favorite song on the radio, or see his favorite car when your driving…

it all hurts so fucking much. you wish it would just stop. you wish you could go back in time and just make it go away.

you wish you had communicated better, that the both of you had. then maybe you wouldn’t be in this spot. you wouldn’t be here crying over a man that hurt you, broke your heart in half and made you feel like the shell of the person you used to be.

if only you had done better, not let each other down, then maybe you wouldn’t feel your eyes burning every time you blinked.

leon was about in the same boat as you, equally as miserable. it seemed as the months passed that it just seemed to get worse and worse.

he didn’t think he could do this anymore.

so that’s why, one day, he got up and went over to your house. he knocked, waited and when you opened the door…he wished he hadn’t come at all.

you had bags under your eyes, you looked like a mess. you were wearing one of his t-shirts he had left over before you broke up with each other.

“oh…fuck…” he says with a small swallow, trying to keep himself upright. “baby…” he whispers with a frown, he could feel his eyes watering as he looked at you.

you felt your lips wobble as you look down at your feet, your body shaking a little bit as you tried to fight back tears. how ironic was it that the person who hurt you the most was the one you needed right now, the one who could fix you and stitch you back together?

you didn’t say a word, not a thing, you let him step forward through the threshold of your door and wrap his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “baby…fuck, i’m so sorry.” he mutters into your hair, rubbing a hand over your back.

the dam had broken and you felt more tears leaking from your eyes and onto his jacket. he swallowed and blinked water away from his own eyes, “that’s okay, it’s okay…” it was not by any means okay, but he needed you to know that even though you hurt each other…he was there. he was willing to makeup for it.

and he held you, rubbing your back, letting all the pain soak into his jacket and t-shirt.

he didn’t know what would happen after this, but he was willing to help you out, even if it killed you both. he was willing to stitch up the pieces of you that he broke.

because he still loved you.

and he would probably never stop, even if you guys didn’t end up together. happy endings weren’t always happy, he knew that.

that’s why he was willing to wait as long as it took.

[porcelainseashore]

Into the Ether (1)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, alcohol, drug references, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE ensemble, VtM concepts.

Author's Note: Super excited for this crossover series! I’ll try to keep a regular update schedule on Wednesdays. I might take some liberties with VtM lore and mechanics to fit the story, but hope to stay as true as I can to the source material. Finally, I imagined RE2R Leon (my favorite!) in this role 🫶

AO3 Link

Chapter 1: RC By Night

You first saw him in summer, when the days were long and the nights were short, and the streets came to life again. There was the heady smell of pollen in the air and the humidity was sweltering. Just a couple of months after you and a bunch of idealistic friends from your theater school days had taken the plunge, and opened an all-night cafe in one of the cheaper, grittier areas of town, east of the river of Raccoon City.

It had been a scrappy little project, one you didn’t expect to receive a cult following and gain in popularity amongst the intellectuals and counterculture crowd. But then again, there was also the City College nearby and the events program you’d lined up each week drew them in. From comedy nights and disco fevers to site-specific and performance art, you knew what people liked and how they wanted to be entertained. A bit of kitsch, a sprinkle of avant-garde and a generous dose of unpretentious social drinking. It pulled him in too.

Him. You didn’t even know his name. The first thing you had noticed were his striking blue eyes that seemed to glow from the shadows of the dimly lit space, peering out at you. Always observing, always watching, never speaking. Sometimes he’d glance over across the opposite end of the room at another pair of companions — a rugged, broad-shouldered man with a dark crew cut bumping shoulders with a younger, spunky redhead in a matching biker jacket. They’d exchange subtle looks of recognition and mild suspicion before returning to whatever they were doing. Though they never uttered a single word to each other.

He came back week after week, ordering the same drink each time, but never touching it. One Manhattan, please. You obliged. A waitress you had sent over to pry on your behalf told you he enjoyed the cocktail, but couldn’t tolerate much alcohol. You saw him lift the drink to his nose, sniffing it as the corners of his mouth turned upwards, silently smiling to himself before he placed it back down on the table again. Strange. You shook your head and prepared a cup of black coffee, taking it over to him as his eyes lit up in surprise with your approach.

“On the house,” you explained, plonking it down on the table. He raised an eyebrow but remained tight-lipped.

Maybe he didn’t like coffee? Or how did he usually take it? “Uh—” you turned back towards the service area, as if to check that the condiments were still in place. “Would you like some creamer or sugar to go with it?”

He raised his hand to indicate it wasn’t necessary and his jaw clenched, before fixing it into an awkward smile. “Thank you.”

Those were the first words he had spoken to you. It rolled off his tongue like a swirl of mist, a sliver of a dream you couldn’t quite remember when waking up. You took another step forward to get a better look at him. He had a baby face, angelic almost, with that typical, boy next door charm your mom would have gushed at, and you imagined he couldn’t be older than his early twenties. Upon closer inspection, he seemed slightly pale, faint dark circles around his eyes that had seen more than his fair share for his age. There was a sense of weariness and jadedness behind them that made him appear older than he was.

Bringing the cup to his lips, he sipped a small mouthful, letting it sit for a moment, before swallowing it down languidly. You admired the curve of his Adam’s apple, bobbing as the liquid poured down his throat, littered with freckles and specks of moles. Something about his very presence mesmerized you, even more so than earlier. It was hard to place a finger on what it was exactly, and why this feeling seemed to grow with every second you were lingering near him.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, tapping it on the table before offering one to you. Why not? You were a social smoker and took it as a sign to join him. In fact, there was no other place you’d rather be at the moment. You were confused, but did not question it as you took a seat beside him, noticing that he flinched each time he flicked open his lighter to ignite a flame.

His fingertips brushed across your wrist as he lit your cigarette, causing you to shiver in response, while his jaw tensed again, as if trying to rein something in. Licking his lips, he took a puff from his own, exhaling the smoke as it billowed around him and for a second you thought you’d lost him to a wall of fog. Both of you continued smoking in silence, checking in with each other through furtive glances, even though there was nothing to be ashamed about.

At some point, you followed the direction of his gaze and saw that same pair of companions he often regarded from the corner of his eye. They were frowning, giving him dirty looks as he shrugged nonchalantly in return.

“Not much of a talker, are you?” you broke through the thick stillness of the air that surrounded the both of you like a bubble, separated from the rest of the evening revelers.

“You’re observant,” he teased, his eyes crinkling as he stubbed out the leftovers of his cigarette in the ashtray. You followed suit.

“So, what brings you here?” you asked, gesturing to the suit attire sans tie that he was wearing. “Don’t get me wrong, but this place doesn’t exactly seem like the kind you types hang out at.”

“Hm,” he huffed, though your question didn’t phase him. “And what exactly is my type?”

“I’d say you were a yuppie,” you blurted out, your mouth rarely had a filter on these days. “But I can’t be sure, something about you seems…”

“Off?” he offered, smirking, yet his expression carried a hint of somberness.

“Different,” you corrected, but mumbled out a quick apology nonetheless soon after.

“Don’t be,” he grazed your hand again as he adjusted himself in his chair, and you felt like he was doing this on purpose. “At least you’re honest. It’s a rare quality to find these days.” Though the way he said the last sentence sounded loaded with a double meaning.

“These days?” you guffawed. “You’re speaking like an old man.”

He joined in your laughter though that was the end of your conversation for that night. The rest of the evening went by in a blind haze, and you found yourself in a dazed state later on in the wee hours of the morning, still sitting at the same table, but your newfound friend gone without a trace. None of your colleagues had noticed a thing. You didn’t even get his name, but you shook yourself, commanding your limbs to get back to business and clean up after the customers that had left.

The next time you saw him was when you were hosting the karaoke night of the month. Decked out in a shimmery mermaid glitter jumpsuit, hair tied up in pigtails and face caked with extravagant make up, you hopped onto the stage, only to nearly stumble on your flimsy heels when those piercing blue eyes landed on you from the all the way back. Of all the nights he could have dropped in, he chose this one.

You suppressed your embarrassment and warmed up the audience with a couple of well-placed jokes before kicking the event off with those who had registered to participate. It appeared to be a tough crowd as you only had a handful of sign ups, and would need to potentially seek out volunteers when they were done. You hoped the rackety sound system would hold up till then too.

Fortunately, when it came to the crunch — which it did — you always had an ace up your sleeve. “You there,” you called out, pointing towards the back of the room. “Yeah, blue eyes, you.” Crooking your finger, you beckoned him over, waiting in anticipation to see what he would do.

To your surprise, he bowed his head, accepting the challenge, before slowly weaving his way through the crowd, who were cheering him on with your prompting, towards the stage. He flashed you his pearly whites as he climbed up the short stairs, his floppy bangs bouncing with each step. For a moment, you thought you caught something feral in his gaze, but it dissipated when he reached out for the mic from you, his hands sweeping over yours with an electric touch.

You were in awe of him, like almost everyone else in the cafe, when he broke out in a rich tenor voice, effortlessly floating through the notes of the gentle melody, that you felt as though you were being wrapped in a serene, velvet cocoon. Enthusiastic claps and hoots filled the space when he finished. The only two people in the room who were scowling were the same pair of companions he knew from before.

“Will you join me after the show?” he whispered in your ear as he handed you back the mic. Nodding was the only appropriate response.

You were rushed off your feet for the next couple of hours and it was late by the time you called the event to a close, but he was still there, by his usual table, waiting patiently for you.

“So you decided to push me into the spotlight,” he accused with a wry smile.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it,” you shot back. “Here.” You set a cup of black coffee down in front of him. “My treat.”

“You’re too kind.” It sounded flat, like a game that had become routine between the two of you. He took a sip from it, nothing more, nothing less.

That was all you could recall from your conversation. You didn’t get his name until a few nights after.

“Hey, blue eyes,” you acknowledged as he strolled in.

“Leon,” he disclosed sharply. “It’s Leon.”

That was the night of exchanging introductions. You named all the nights you’d spent with him under various labels, so you wouldn’t forget.

Another night, he had whipped out a flip phone and you nearly choked on your drink. “They still make those?” You stared in disbelief.

He turned to face you in amusement.

“Bet you don’t have a—”

You didn’t even need to finish your sentence for him to fish out his pager, dangling it in front of you like a toy.

“Fuck off,” you laughed. “No fucking way.”

He grinned at your outburst and it was one of those times, few and far between, where you experienced a glimpse of that youthful energy he often hid behind a calm, matured facade.

“You’re still living in the 90s dude?” you jested, grabbing the pager as you flipped it over, trying to determine if it was real. It was.

His lips curled up into a playful smirk. “Something like that.”

“Healthcare,” you guessed, squinting at him. “I heard people there still have them. You’re a doctor?”

“I wish.” He coughed out a self-deprecating laugh, before rummaging through his wallet for a sleek white card, sliding over to you. “P.I., actually.”

“Private Investigator Leon S. Kennedy,” you read the title out loud, deliberately emphasizing each word.

“Go ahead, shout it from the rooftops,” he joked.

“Don’t tempt me.” You gave what you hoped was a cheeky wink, not flirty, definitely not flirty.

A lopsided smile spread across his face, and you wondered if you were finally beginning to unravel the mystery of this man, one that he seemed to carry around like a burden.

“Well, now you know where to find me.” He winked back, taking a tiny sip of his free coffee.

That was the night of P.I. Kennedy. Soon, these nights blurred into each other. You felt like you were getting a step closer, but yet you weren’t. He always had you at an arm’s length for some reason, even though he seemed to want more. Why did he keep coming back?

He also appeared to care about what you thought of him. At some point forth, he started dressing down, exchanging his usual formal attire for a shirt with no blazer, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A fine gold chain necklace peeked out from underneath his top collar, which was left unbuttoned. “Better like this?” he asked with no context. You had to pause and consider what he meant for a while before you understood.

“If you’d like to fit in.” You shrugged indifferently. “But I don’t think you want to.”

“You know me well,” he murmured fondly. The back of his fingers caressed the side of your neck, just under your jawline, along a pulse point. You closed your eyes and sighed. It felt sensitive and tender.

“And how well do you know me?” you asked. 

There was no reply, but somehow you already knew the answer.

Another thing you were vaguely aware of was that you kept missing the tail end of your interactions with him. It was as though after a certain point in the night, you would come to, like waking up from a daydream, and he would have disappeared by then.

Your colleagues asked if you were seeing each other. Were you? You were only chatting, you surmised. Nothing had gone that far yet, at least from what you had gathered. But you liked him more than you would’ve liked to admit.

He walked you home one night, and when you reached your doorstep, you were about to invite him in, but he interrupted you. “There’s something I need to tell you…”

Guilt clouded his eyes, unmistakable and heavy. But as he was about to say more, he held back, as if pulled by an invisible thread. Then, you felt yourself overcome with tiredness, but it was pleasant and comforting. “Can you help me to bed?” Your voice sounded far away.

All at once, you felt yourself being propped up under his arm and your weight shifting under your feet, until your head touched a feather-soft pillow. He draped a blanket over your unmoving body. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never should have—” Even in your state, you could tell it pained him.

“I won’t do it again, unless you let me.” 

That was the last you heard from him for a while.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Leon couldn’t get enough of you. Believe him, he tried countless times, but it didn’t work. From the moment he had set foot into that establishment, he had damned himself. He knew it when he spotted you and smelled your sanguine resonance from afar. It was the humor of your blood, and it was stronger and more consistent than he was used to. You were just so full of life, and enjoying it to the point where he was envious. You signified all the hopes and dreams that had been dashed spectacularly to the ground, ever since becoming… what he was now.

He had to have a taste of you. A little drop wouldn’t hurt, would it? He’d been taught ages ago, by Ada, his sire, that he needed people like you to survive. If one ignored their hunger for too long, things would get worse, so much worse, and not just for himself, but for everyone else around him. It was simply the lesser of two evils to feed, and he’d never actually killed anyone by doing so. Then, why did it feel so wrong? He had gotten good at pushing down these thoughts, until they were reduced to an inaudible hum at the back of his mind. Just like many other things, he learnt to compromise. But compromising meant that sometimes, he’d lose a piece of himself. If there was an equivalent of a soul within the monster he had become, then it was fragmented, and he’d never get back the ones that had dissolved into the ether, due to the bad decisions he had made. Like the ones he would soon make with you.

Taste. Taste was something he had acquired since young. In his human life, he always had an eye for detail, an eye for what fit, what worked, and what didn’t. It certainly helped when he became a cold case detective with the police force, filled with unbridled potential, only to have that overturned, when he decided to chase after love instead of missing people and puzzle pieces. For years, he would’ve done anything for her, only for it to amount to wasted time and regret when the inevitable boredom that came with time struck, and he was tossed aside over something exciting and new. Still, he knew a delicious vessel when he saw one. You were just meant to be a special curiosity that he could pass on to the older vampire for a favor or two. At least, that was what he told himself, when you took the initial bait and he beckoned you to stay through unnatural means. That was the first lie.

When he bit into you, he was met with a burst of color, vibrant shades of all kinds of red. The flavor saturated his mouth: sweet roses, his favorite kind, their scent carried on a gentle zephyr; warm light that enveloped him but didn’t hurt; traces of nicotine coursing through your veins; and the familiar iron tang that gave it its kick. Your face, your voice, your very essence haunted him in that taste. He could see you like a will-o'-the-wisp performing on stage in one of your many plays across a lifetime, laughing with your friends in the back of a car speeding down the highway, crying into a pillow when you had your heart broken by your first love… How was this possible? Your memories came flooding through him and you were blissfully unaware of it all. He felt like a spy, listening in to all your secrets and desires, and his blatant invasion of your privacy disgusted him.

This was wrong. He shouldn’t have gotten so close. He should’ve heeded the warning glances the Redfield siblings were throwing his way. So, he tried his best to stay away, but like an addict, he kept crawling back, seeking you out like a dog with its tail between its legs. How could a mere mortal have such an effect on him? Did he taste this way to Ada when she turned him? He laughed sardonically. If only she could see him now, being so torn up over a woman he had just met.

He tried to erase you from his mind, but you were always meant to be something more. You reminded him of all the things he missed when he was living. You were the best he had ever tasted, but he didn’t want to turn you over to her, not yet. After all, he could afford to enjoy you for just one more time. The second lie had spun its thick, dark webs throughout his head. Truth be told, he would never share you with anyone else.

The third lie came when he resolved to tell you what he really was. He couldn’t keep going on like this and deceiving you, but his sire’s words bore down on him. “You don’t get attached to a vessel,” she scoffed. Wait, wasn’t he one too at some point? Her contradictory words replayed in his ears like a broken record. In any case, he wasn’t attached. He was being brave and honest, which was how he liked to think of himself. But when it came to the crunch outside your doorstep, he was a coward, finding himself unable to breach the rules of the Masquerade and gave in to his urges instead. It was then that he realized deep down, he was truly a despicable and hateful low-life.

Thump! He felt his body slam against a solid wall, as he entered a secluded alleyway round the corner from your apartment. A dull ache bloomed across his skin. After the events that had happened that night, he didn’t even bother putting up a fight. He slumped down until the brawny, older male sibling, Chris, lifted him by his collar and pinned him in place. At the same time, the slender redhead, Claire, Chris’ female counterpart, spoke, “Where the hell are you going with this, Leon?”

“Why do you care?” he spat, blood coating his teeth. “The cafe’s in neutral ground, no one’s claimed domain over it yet. I can feed on whoever I like.”

“Listen, you’re Cam scum, but you saved my brother back then, and you used to hang with us,” she hissed, jabbing her finger into his shoulder to emphasize each point. “So, I’m gonna give you a tip, but just this once.”

She brought her mouth to his ear. “There’s interest in the domain… and you’re not the only suitor vying for her attention.”

His eyes widened at the threat.

“Whatever you do, do it fast.”

[apollodeath]

Come over.

Summary: you and König have been FWB for a while and he’s back from a 6 month deployment and he wants you over. Now.

A/N: I made this in 2 hours and did not re-read… so, there’s probably mess ups. I apologize. I just wanted to post/write something smut filled. I can’t get König off my mind. So I wanted to just cave and write a one shot of him. Also written to the song “inside friend” by Leon Bridges ft. John Mayer.

MDNI 18+

Warnings/content warnings: size kink, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of wounds/scars from battle. Reader is referred to as You, love and Maus but mentions of pussy and breasts. If I forgot anything I’m so sorry.

Reader = purple

König = green

— ⋆ ⋆ ¤⋆ ⋆—

You sat at work bored scrolling on your phone. Since it was so cold out your shop didn’t get many customers. A text pops up and your eyes flicker to it then back taking a double take.

Your notification reads:

[König 💦]

A text from him surprised you cause last time you heard from him was 6 months ago. When he went on deployment. He was predictable and persistent which is why you liked being his… friend with benefits. His inside friend.

You feel your body heat up when you read his text.

[König 💦]

— hey. you think you could come over?

— I’m back.

You smirk at your phone texting back with the feeling of eagerness building. You hate to admit after König left you kinda just stuck to yourself not really interested in a partner or hooking up. Your hands could satisfy you, not as great as König but they worked.

[König 💦]

— hey. you think you could come over?

— I’m back.

— Hey yeah I can. Same time as before?

You placed your phone away once customers came in.

Time passed slowly now that you had König on your mind. The last time you saw him he was was slow and patient, taking his time to engulf you in his body, to devour slowly, he was moving so slow then, it felt like it took days for him to actually push into you.

You sit on your chair behind the counter feeling your pussy pulse to the thought.

He was fresh out of the shower and he started by simply kissing you. You went home around 5am that day and he went to the airport around the same time. You remember thinking you’d really miss him if he didn’t come back.

A buzz on your phone makes you check and knock your memories away.

[König 💦]

— I’m back.

— Hey yeah I can. Same time as before?

— of course. 7pm.

You go to text back when another text comes in.

[König 💦]

— Hey yeah I can. Same time as before?

— of course. 7pm.

— if you can come more soon faster. that would be best. I need you.

His texts were sometimes out of place. He didn’t know English well enough to text but in person he knows enough. Still his words ‘I need you.’ Literally made you a puddle in your seat.

You look at the time and it reads [3:37pm] you begin to think:

If no one shows up and it hits 4pm you were closing the shop and heading over.the perks of being your own boss. For the first time since opening your own shop you beg the world at this moment that no one comes in.

The world grants your wish and you rush to close up once your clock shows the correct time. You grab your jacket rushing home to shower.

Once you get back on the road to König’s apartment you feel your nervous energy turning to desire and hotness.

You text him:

[König 💦]

— of course. 7pm.

— if you can come more soon faster. that would be best. I need you.

— Omw. I need you too.

You flirt back and smile hearing your phone go off seconds after hitting send.

[König 💦]

— if you can come more soon faster. that would be best. I need you.

— Omw. I need you too.

— god. I’m already getting hard.

You smirk and text back while you’re stopped at a red light.

[König 💦]

best. I need you.

— Omw. I need you too.

—god. I’m already getting hard.

— Aww. I wanted you to get hard in my mouth.

You teased and started driving once again hearing your phone buzz a few times as you pulled up outside the apartment building.

[König 💦]

— god. I’m already getting hard.

— Aww. I wanted you to get hard in my mouth.

— Scheiße

— fuck*

You bit your bottom lip knowing he craved you the way you craved him. You get out of the car and go up to his apartment on the 5th floor. You breath in and out before knocking. You’re surprised at how fast he was to swing open the door. It’s like he was waiting by it. You laugh a little.

“Come in mein süßer Freund” he’s wearing some of his gear-like clothes. His sniper hood on, of course. It’s what peaked your interest when you fist met König in a library one day.

You walk in while König closes the door behind you, slowly looking around you see unpacked luggage by the couch.

“I hope it’s not to warm in here.” His voice makes you turn to look at him, you can tell he’s a little nervous like he used to be when you first met him; his eyes trace you like a feral dogs just smelt another dog in heat.

“It’s been awhile…” you spoke softly trying to break the tension.

“Can we skip that part?” he spoke just as gentle but more his bedroom voice. You knew the difference all too well. You nod in agreement stripping your sweater off exposing your chest to him.

“Welcome home?” You say with a soft blush spreading over your cheeks and chest. König’s apartment was heated perfectly for the winter outside but yet your body still had chills making your nipples rise.

He takes no time walking up to you lifting his hood over his lips locking his with yours, quickly grabbing your chest in both his hands kneading them placing your nipples between his fingers knuckles every knead slightly pitching them.

He was so sloppy and needy with his kisses, his hand movements were almost painful with how needy he is. You didn’t realise your own neediness until now. He made you whimper from these touches. He then wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you against his hips; through your leggings/sweater you felt his hard cock pressing against your tummy. His height was so dramatic his cock was above your waist it made you smirk and let a little giggle out.

König stopped the kissing to look at you.

“What meine liebe?” He asked slowly unzipping his pants.

“I think I forgot how tall you were.” You giggle a little again. König chuckles.

“I think I forgot how small you were, Maus”

You blush looking away then glancing at his bedroom down the hallway.

“I’ll take you there.” He reached over grabbing you and picking you up over his shoulder like a cave man had just gotten a fresh kill. It made you laugh.

“I think I also forgot how strong you are” you added as a joke. Saying all these ‘I think I forgot’s made him laugh. König placed you on your back on the tall, large bed. When you first came over to his apartment you realized that his bed came off the ground higher than most beds, when you sat on the edge your feet didn’t touch the ground. König looked at you from his standing position at the edge, he stripped his pants down along with his underwear then pulling his shirt off. You laid on your back just watching him. Admiring him. His cock stood curved at attention. He had a new scar you noticed; it was healed but fresher than the others. It looked like a jagged…maybe a bullet wound? On his upper chest almost shoulder. König noticed and shook his head.

“Don’t ask.” He grabbed your ankles pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. You nodded in agreement.

König took your leggings and panties in his hands pulling them down.

“Lift.” He said softly and you lifted your hips helping him pull them off. He breathed in and out taking you in, fully nude, laying on your back with your legs bent exposing yourself to him.

You felt yourself already leaking with excitement. It was the drive that felt like foreplay. He takes his cock in one hand placing the other on your mound placing his thumb softly on your clit swiveling it. His breath is heavy already just at seeing your body’s reactions to his thumb rubbing over your sensitive clit, lifting your hips to his touch, your legs spread more ready to take him whole. He guides his cock into you pushing in just quick enough to stretch you with a slight sting, it’s instantly replaced with pleasure making your head fall back into the bed. He glides in so easy your velvety, wet, warm pussy is sucking him in.

“I think I forgot how wet you get.” He stated through gritted teeth his voice dipped in pleasure. He tried to joke but the moment was all too serious to remember to try and sound like he was joking. He felt his stress melt off his shoulders as his cock twitches in you.

König starts thrusting short, hard patterns only taking his cock out 2 inches at most leaving the leftover 5 inches as he ruts his hips against yours.

His hands grab your hips tightly and you bite your lip hard feeling immense pleasure from this, his cock’s curve is just right to rub on the inside making you moan out his name and anything else that’ll come out.

König is whimpering/grunting at each thrust. His back is curled in. His face is above yours. You take this opportunity to reach out to his face mask suddenly he stops and his hand is around your wrist tightly.

“Don’t.”

“I just wanted.. another kiss…” you try catching your breath from everything. He slightly put fear in you but you understood his own fear of his mask coming off.

He nodded understanding now, he let your wrist go and picked you up pushing you to the center of the bed and crawled on, never disconnecting you two.

König leaned down lifting his mask up placing his hot mouth on yours, kissing you deeply and slipping his tongue in guiding your own tongue around his. He began moving his hips again at a slow pace softly gaining speed. You wrapped your legs around his waist pushing him in deeper and he broke the kiss to place his head between your neck and shoulder to then wrap his arms around you and got a steady position to start jack hammering in you. The bed began to thump the wall and the sound of moans and wet, warm skin colliding over and over filled the room. König’s hot breath on your neck felt like fire in the best ways possible. You arched your back feeling yourself building your climax.

“Tell me… M-Maus did you fantasize about me.” He asked through thrusts his voice shaky from his movements.

“Yes, I did!” You answered honestly on the brink of tears from how good the pleasure felt. How much you missed this. Missed him.

“Did you fuck anyone else?” He asked biting at your neck.

“No. No I-I knew know one could… oh god, fuck me like you.” You scratched at his back holding on to reality as best as you could.

“Good girl, good Maus.” He panted into your ear.

König places his hands once more on your hips steadying you to thrust in at a better angle.

Looking down for a minute watching your two bodies connect with the wet sloshing sound. His eyes are closed as he tries holding back his own orgasm. He looks up with half lidded eyes from under the mask and you can tell he’s just drunk off the feeling. His thrusts are becoming sloppy and twitchy as his legs are trying to lock in a flexed position.

“Cum for me.” You say softly with whimpers. His eyes roll back and head tilts back but he keeps going.

“I-i-…. I..” he can’t remember what the words are in English so he just shakes his head ‘no’

“Nein, ich möchte es noch nicht. Ich will dich mehr ficken” he grunts out even tho you don’t know any German somehow you knew what he wanted.

Translation: No, I don't want it yet. I want to fuck you more

König slows his thrusts to a soft pace sitting up on his knees more. He grabs you pulling you up to sit on his lap. You hiss at the sharp new angle of his cock piercing you. He reads your expression and lift you up slightly and starts to rut his hips up into you. You throw your arms over his shoulders and pull him in as you arch your back making your chest squeeze against him. König takes his arm and latches it around your waist to help lift you up and down his length like his own personal fuck toy; taking his other hand and placing it in your hair softly tugging not to hard just something to grab.

“Just like that” he breaths out.

“I’m gonna cum” you whimper out feeling yourself leaking slowly on to his lap. König can feel your warm liquid trailing down his balls and lap.

“Cum f’me Maus bitte, bitte please cum, cum bitte” he’s begging to feel you pulse on his hard cock. His words alone are enough to make you orgasm, you cling to him as your body shakes and your walls tighten around him. König can feel every squeeze of your walls milking his hard cock, it takes strength not to cum right away but he’s losing the battle.

König grabs your hips and pushes you all the way down his length to sit at his base. Your orgasm made you make a mess on him and the bed underneath. König felt just how feral that made him as he gripped you tighter and starts filling you with his own cum. You look at him and his eyes are shut tight and his grip on you is so tight you swear you can feel both of your heart beats in your body. You whimper some more feeling him inside twitch and pour stream in you.

“That’s it… that’s it König.. cum for me” he opens his eyes catching his breath, nodding yes.

“That-that felt um, uh…�� he smiles and shakes his head laughing slightly “uh great? Good? Very good.” He chuckles you nod laughing a little yourself.

He slowly helps you raise off of him and lay back feeling your legs still weak and shaky. He crawls to your side flopping on the bed still catching his breath. You let your eyes close just soaking in the feeling. You feel him roll over then back onto his back.

“It’s only seven thirty…” he whispers. You look over to him and König has his eyes set on you.

“I have all night.” You state.

“I have until next week Tuesday.” He says teasingly. You giggle at him.

“Are you saying you want to cum again?” You tease rolling to your side taking your hand and placing it on his hot chest.

“And again and again…” he adds with a smirk you can hear on his lips. He’s always been a 2 rounds kind of guy. Rarely a 3 rounder.

“Take what you want.” you whisper trailing your hand down his body König stopping you at his waist.

“You said you wanted to feel me get hard in your mouth…”

— ⋆ ⋆ ¤⋆ ⋆—

a/n: I hope it’s good. Sorry about the ending just fading out I had no idea how to end this. I loved writing about König messing up English lol I hope the text portion wasn’t to confusing. Sorry for any typos again.

[wherenymphsroam]

Real dad! Leon coming over to help you with your car.

Something’s wrong with it, so why wouldn’t you call your dad to help you out? He gets there, pops the hood and finds the problem that he starts to fix.

You check on him every ten or so minutes, noticing how maybe he took his jacket off, how his hair is getting messier. He’s more out of breath and a little sweaty. It makes you forget he was even speaking to you, asking for you to go grab him a bottle of water so he can cool down.

And when you do come out with the water, his shirt is off this time. He grins and laughs at you. Maybe he’s a little mean and teases you about it, talking about how you haven’t seen a man like him before ugh omg

The tension would be sooo thick after that. Especially if he stays over for a while, maybe taking a shower in your bathroom. He comes out in a towel, making sure it hangs low to catch your attention since you just loved staring at him earlier

Please please please hear me out

oh I’m hearing you Mel. I’m hearing ya.

“Like mother like daughter”

cw: daddy/daughter incest, leon is your real dad in this, some mixed in religious themes, leon being a cocky douche even in his old age, kitchen counter fucking, slight breath play but it’s only bc Leon’s arm is around readers neck, barely proof read.

a/n: idc im not making this formatting all pretty, I literally blacked out and coughed up 2.5k at two in the morning. straight filth. here you go, eat you little shits.

And up until that point, it’s just that. It’s only that. Tension. Silent, deadly, heavy in the air of your small place.

That is, until he slices right through it, walking out of your bathroom in nothing but that towel.

When you were smaller, he’d never take showers when you were around, making sure to slip them in during the dark hours of the morning or long after you were asleep. And on the occasion that you were around, even into your teen years he’d all but beeline to his bedroom to get changed, only leaving you with a lingering glance at his broad back. That is, when you’d will yourself to look as he strode down the hall. You shouldn’t be looking at your dad in such immodest state, let alone like that.

And yet here you are, dry mouthed and stock still where you stand at your kitchen island. He had strode in, so confident, almost cocky, claiming he forgot his glass of water. As if he couldn’t have grabbed it after he was decent. Because he’s just so thirsty after all that work today, and the kitchen is on the way to your guest bedroom where he was going to change anyway. What would be the point in doubling back?

He’s about to grab his glass and slip back out of the kitchen, content enough to be swift in his appearance. That is, until he notices the look on your face.

“What?” He chuckles, his smile sly. He knew he didn’t look the same as he did when he was twenty something years old. The scars, the soft layers of fat that had cropped up over thick muscles in his pecs and abs, the healthy line of hair that trails underneath his towel — it’s all a reminder of what his body has been through, how it’s matured through the years. Yet, here you were standing there and gawking at him, as if you’d never seen a shirtless man before.

He’s met with silence. Wetting your lips, swallowing thickly, blinking a few times — it’s takes you a beat too long to be deemed appropriate to realize you were staring. Barely holding back the urge to curse under your breath, you cover your obvious gawking with a dry cough, a shake of your head. Waving a dismissive hand at him and rolling your eyes as if suddenly he’s a nuisance.

“Ew,” you snort, turning back to the dishes you had been in the middle of doing. “Go get changed, old man.”

“Ouch,” he hissed, snickering now. Directly defying your playful orders, he leans on the kitchen island now, leaving only the hand on his hip to keep his towel secure around his hips.

“I wasn’t always an old man. Your mom was attracted to me at one point in time, you know,” he hums, teasing, playful. Far more playful than appropriate.

“Obviously,” you mutter, willing yourself not to turn around. Your gaze bores down, practically drilling through the pan you’re scrubbing. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

He laughs then, throaty and low, his stomach shaking from the strength of it.

“That you are.”

Footsteps.

Coming towards you, the old tile squeaking softly in specific weak points as he crosses your small kitchen. You don’t notice how your scrubbing slows, subconsciously distracted by his warmth as it settles behind you, looming.

“I asked you a question, you know,” he murmurs, piercing eyes trained on you.

He’s done this in times past. Sometimes when he’s reprimanded you, sometimes in joking passing. Directing your attention back to a voiced inquiry that you decide to oh so conveniently side step, choosing to ignore in favor of your own comfort. And like always, he wasn’t going to let you slide.

“What’s with that look on your face?” he rephrases, tilting his head.

Don’t stop scrubbing.

You don’t. If anything, the movements of your arm grow faster, harder, practically burning your sponge into the surface of a pan that’s been clean for two minutes now.

“What look?” you hum, feigning ignorance, clearly so busy with your task at hand.

Rolling his eyes, he adjusts his towel around his hip, tugging it tighter. The action had the back of his palm brushing into your hip.

“Nope. You don’t get to play dumb with me,” he tuts, low and far too close to the back of your neck. A few inches more, and his breath would fan against the back of your neck.

“When was the last time you went out, anyways? Hell, the last time you told me about a boyfriend?” he snickers, moreso at the mental image of the last loser you brought home to him.

Sighing, your jaw sets, your heart skipping in your chest.

“Dad, we’re not talking about this right now,” you groan, adjusting your craned neck, shifting your weight over your feet as you turn the faucet on. Suds slide off the nonstick surface of the pan, pooling and circling to disappear a moment later down your drain.

“You’re right. We’re not.”

Pausing, your gut twists in a way you haven’t felt in a while. It’s that feeling you get, that tugging that tells you the guy you’re hanging out with wants more. That the guy you’re alone with has intentions driven by hunger, need. That he wants you.

But you’re not alone with just some guy. Not alone with even a guy your age. He’s not a classmate. Not a friend. Not some sleazy tinder date you brought home.

It’s your dad.

A deep breath in. An effort of swallowing and burying that feeling. Of shoving it deep enough in hopes that it wouldn’t crawl back up again.

An exhale through your nose, forcing your movements as you reach for the next dirty dish.

“Then what are we talking about?” you scoff, glad he can’t see your face, your eyes that waver. Taking a tone you typically do during your nitter nattering with him, a tone he would reprimand you for in your teen years.

“The fact that you were eye-fucking your father a minute ago,” he mutters, his tone indecipherable.

“That’s what we’re talking about.”

Was he angry?

Disappointed, maybe?

Uncomfortable?

You can’t tell. Out of all the times you’re able to read your father, quick to pin down his vocal habits, of course it’s right now that you fail to get a read on him. Because admittedly, you haven’t heard him like this before.

Why did you care? Did you want him to be angry? Uncomfortable?

Why aren’t you uncomfortable?

Finally, your pitiful stress scrubbing comes to a halt. It’s as if he just fed an IV of ice water through your veins, his voice resounding through the kitchen as it falls silent around you.

You’re hesitant, slow when you turn your head. Brows knitted, lips parted — something you got from him — you can’t even bring yourself to meet his damn eyes.

“W… What? Dad, I’m not eye-fucking you-“

“Be honest. When was the last time you got laid?” he scoffs, all amusement drained from his voice. Not quite lecturing, nor demanding. But firm.

Glancing up at him, you search his eyes, silently floundering under his hard gaze. It takes all your willpower not to let your own wander down the still damp skin of his neck, his collarbones.

This isn’t appropriate.

When you were younger, he’d physically cringe at the idea of you ever experiencing sex. Would clench his fist, draw his brows at the idea of some insolent little boy getting his hands on you, in you.

“Don’t forget to mention the .45 I keep in my bedside,” he’d not so jokingly quip whenever you’d head out for a date.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it then. Gotta go polish my bat,” he’d make a point of specifying the one time you had a male friend over to study for a big exam.

It was from a place of protectiveness. Of love. Because you were his little girl. Didn’t want you getting hurt. Even if he knew that one day you’d probably end up entangled in the back of some college idiots Honda accord his parents got him, that you’d one day be introduced to the world of true heart break, he wanted, needed to keep you out of the worlds grips for just a little bit longer. For as long as he could control.

And here he is, asking so crudely when you last got laid.

“I asked you a question.”

A beat passes. Another one. Your neck is uncomfortable, half turned over your shoulder like this. But you dare not turn away.

“Never.”

Oh.

Oh.

There it is. All it took was some light prodding and you’re coughing up.

Because he told you to. Because he loves you. Because you’re a good girl. His good girl.

Not some sleazy tinder dates.

Not some broke college boy with a measly Honda accord.

No, no. He really should’ve known better. You have more refined taste than he often wants to give you credit for. Well, that is, until he’s taking credit for you, so quick to remind you it’s him you inherited such trait from.

His little girl was always needier than that. Better than that. Smarter than to so freely give herself to whatever scumbag picked her up some flowers from the grocery store on his way over to the house before a date, smarter than to let some asshole take advantage of any insecurity.

“You were saving it for me weren’t you?”

His voice comes out as a panted snicker into your neck, spoke into the numerous bites and blooming spots of color along your nape. It takes you a moment, lost in the hazy, sickly heated daze the two of your have made of the kitchen air around you. With pots long forgotten, one side of the sink full of cooled water, the sound of the faucet that had been running earlier is replaced with the wet claps of skin against skin.

Sharp, deep, all consuming when his pelvis collides into your ass, the fat of it rippling under each heavy collision. It threatens to steal your sense of coherency from you with each drive.

“H… Huh?”

Your voice is a mess, not too unlike the rest of you. The thick arm he has wrapped around your neck doesn’t really help, seeing as how it only constricts your already dry throat. Speaking proved to be far more difficult than it maybe should be right now.

“Your virginity, sunshine,” he murmurs into your ear, low and hot, brewed with an aftertaste of amusement. As if he didn’t just address you by the nickname he gave you when you were, what, three? As if he wasn’t speaking over the sounds of his body burying him within yours.

“Y’saved it just for me, huh? Knew only your Daddy could take care of you?” he snickers, looking at you oh so intently, adoringly almost. Far too tenderly, given how the thick muscles of his arm ripple with each jerk of your body in his hold.

You were always so pretty. Got it from your mother. Those sweet eyes, the pout of your lips. Even your tears, how they rolled down your cheeks in fat, hot trails of ecstasy matched how your mother would cry for him. How sweet.

And oh, even sweeter, the hitch of your constricted breaths. Your cries, your whimpers, those broken moans that fall so steadily are heavenly, even if what he was committing right now was far from.

Leon had never been a religious man, at least not into his adult life.

What the hell did he care about how wrong this was? God could twist and turn and kick and scream all he wanted, sat up on his high and mighty throne. He could whine and cry all about this was wrong, how he didn’t bless Leon with such a beautiful daughter for him to fuck her.

But right now? Leon doubts that. Hell. Somewhere, hidden deep into the darkest corners and recesses of his mind, Leon hopes that is the reason he was given a daughter. He snickers at the very idea of you being bestowed to him like the damn sacrificial lamb for the slaughter, his own personal sunshine and warm body.

Because why else would you cry like her?

Why else would you sigh and tremble and shudder just like her?

Why else would your voice crack and pitch along the same patterns hers did when he pushed her to her very limits?

Why else would God let his most beloved walk out of his life and leave him with her most beautiful creation, if not to fall in love with her all over again?

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whimper, like a damn broken record in his arms. With your shorts pooled around your ankles, your shirt shoved up just high enough for him to paw at your pretty tits, you were practically a spitting image.

A growl of satisfaction, of delight reverberates through him and you feel it. It all but shakes you to your core, how his chest rumbles against your back. It’s all consuming, so overwhelmingly delicious how warm, how strong he is. You really couldn’t be to blame for how quickly you deteriorate, stuttering through gasped warnings of impending end.

“Ask me properly,” he mutters into your neck, breaths heavy with exertion and hot with carnal lust as he speaks into the shell of your ear.

“Tell Dad you wanna come.”

“Please, please-“

Coughing, your choke briefly around your own spit, and it takes you a second to recover. But it’s only a moment later that you’re shaking your head to the best of its mobility trapped in the crux of his elbow, eyes hazy as you gaze up at him.

“Dad- Dad lemme come. Wan’ come so bad, please, please Dad-“

Eager. So fucking eager, just like your damn mother. All that spunk, all those sarcastic retorts and matter of fact quips that attempt to keep him at bay, stretched thin and see through around the girth of him. He can’t help but laugh at the irony, even moreso when you only spasm around the sound.

And when he finally utters his permission, he’s not gazing down at you to revel in how your orgasm tears through you. He’s tracking every facial expression; every tear, every wobble of your lip and roll of your eyes, all in search of her.

Because as much as he adored the parts of you that were him. As much as he loved teasing you for your similarities, poking fun at the parts of you that were her, he couldn’t help but come to a compromise then.

That yeah, you were a Daddy’s girl through and through.

But at the end of the day, the saying really should be ‘like mother like daughter’.

[moonrisecoeur]

i have the raging urge to spit in leon’s mouth

re2 leon

oh to put him on his knees, watch him slowly look up at you, soft, fragile blue eyes looking into yours, blissfully unaware of what’s about to happen. his hand slowly brushes against your leg, settling on resting on your outer thigh. he holds you softly, like a reminder that his love extends past these small moments of dominance and submission.

still, you lean in close to him, your face getting closer to his face, and he thinks you’re going to kiss him, but you don’t, instead you tell him, “open your mouth, sweetheart.”

he complies, letting his jaw hang open.

“such a good boy… you look so pretty like this, baby,” you lean closer.

you let a small bit of saliva collect on your tongue before spitting it into his mouth. he moans once he realizes what happened, what you did to him. he immediately gets hard and thinks about what you’re doing. asserting dominance? displaying ownership? his head is spinning.

you mumble, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, “there you go. swallow it, baby, and say thank you.”

he’s yours, especially with a mark of your ownership like that. the fact that you could just do that to him whenever you want has his head spinning.

re4 leon

he groans from the ache in his body, barely able to think coherently. the parasite inside his body has him unable to think straight. every single thought is about you. he knows he can control himself, but not if you’re sitting right next to him, the smell of your perfume still impossibly lingering on your jacket.

he looks over at you. you seem… tense. he knows you didn’t get infected, but something seems off. he doesn’t know why.

he’s about to.

you ask, “can i do something… really weird?”

“how weird are we talking..?” he responds, turning his body to face you more. that was his first mistake. he’s losing control. he knows he is.

“you trust me, right?” you ask instead of answering him. it’s such an easy question. leon trusts you implicitly. he nods, and you sigh, “will you trust me to do this?” and he nods again.

you move yourself onto his lap, straddling his thighs. he instinctively wraps his arms around you, holding you close. you stay like that for a moment, until he looks up at you, and you remember what you had the burning urge to do.

you lean in to kiss him, hands caressing his face. he moans into the kiss, clearly overtaken with some kind of desire he didn’t quite understand. you pull away, and he growls unintentionally.

your thumb brushes over his bottom lip, and you press down on his chin to open his mouth. you lean forward, but instead of kissing him this time, you spit some of your saliva onto his tongue. he gasps, moaning at the feeling of the foreign substance, but you don’t even have to tell him: he swallows it right away.

“what the hell was that for..?” he asks, but there’s no malice in his words. he liked it.

you smirk, looking down at him (which he’s always liked) and saying, “no reason. just felt like it,” he knows that’s not true. he sees that look in your eyes.

he knows exactly why.

[not-another-leon-blog]

Condor Two

RE4! Leon Kennedy x Reader

Summary- You're Leon's partner, separated by villagers when you arrive in Spain. Word Count: 3425 Established Relationship A/N: Something different, there will be more to the Family Matters series coming soon!

I should’ve gone with Leon, you thought. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t be tied to a pole and helplessly watching a Spanish police officer being secured to a pyre. What a way to begin your search for the president’s daughter.

Even more frustrating, you could hear Leon talking in your earpiece, trying to reach you. But with your hands literally tied, there was no way for you to respond. You hoped Hunnigan would be able to get a location on you. Of course, Ashley Graham remained the priority. But knowing Leon, he wouldn’t rest until he’d recovered the both of you.

The scent of old manure and death filled your nose. Your wrists and ankles ached and burned from the ropes binding you. At least you didn’t have to go looking for that village, you supposed. Still, you doubted that you’d find Ashley here.

As the sun rose, you surveyed your surroundings. Old wood buildings surrounded you. Chickens, cows, and pigs roamed freely and the villagers… well, you didn’t know what to make of them.

You and the officer tied to the pyre had been ambushed. They’d slashed the tires of the police car that had brought you out here and quickly overwhelmed both you and the officer. There was a throbbing in the back of your head where you’d been hit before waking up here. Wherever ‘here’ was.

Villagers wandered aimlessly through the small town, muttering things under their breath in Spanish. Something wasn’t right with them. Black veins covered their pale skin and their eyes were wild. It didn’t even seem like they fully registered pain. Some were covered in cuts and blood that they hadn’t bothered to clean and the bandages you did see were old and dirty.

“Condor two,” came Leon’s voice again, “Condor two, do you read me?” You rolled your eyes and groaned. You wanted nothing more than to answer him. “Y/n, where are you?”

Waiting for Leon to find you wasn’t an option. If your suspicions were correct, you were next on the sacrifice list.

The villagers had taken your guns when they’d taken you, but they hadn’t stripped you of your jacket. The small knife sheath strapped to your forearm was still hidden beneath the sleeve. There wasn’t much room to move, but you could move your arm against the pole just enough to free the knife from its sheath. 

Warm leather fell into your hand and you gripped the handle as tight as the rope would allow. The angle was awkward and your hand was already beginning to cramp, but you slowly began to saw away at the rope.

Keeping an eye on the villagers, you watched them begin to gather in the middle of town where they’d constructed the pyre. As long as you stayed quiet, hopefully, you’d avoid drawing their attention. 

A thought crossed your mind. How were you going to save the officer? He struggled and yelled, pleading with the villagers to let him go. His words carried no weight. 

The ropes around your wrists fell to the ground. Now you just had to free your ankles and then–

One of the villagers approached the pyre, a thick burning stick in his hands. Before you could blink, he tossed it into the wood pile and within seconds the whole thing had gone up in flames. The officer screamed and flailed. The smell of burning flesh filled your nose and you knew there was no saving him.

Heart pounding, you reached down and cut the rest of the ropes. Finally free, you crouched down and quickly dashed between the nearest buildings. If there was anything you knew for certain, it was that you couldn’t stay here. You didn’t stand a chance against a whole town with only a knife.

You turned the corner and skid to a stop. Not everyone was in the town square. An old woman stood in front of you, a pitchfork held firm in her bony hands. She raised the pitchfork and swung so fast you were barely able to dodge. You dropped to the ground and kicked her feet out from under her. You were on her in a second, pinning her shoulders down with your knees and driving your knife into her temple.

She lay dead and you quickly searched her body for anything that might be useful. Your shoulders slumped. Nothing.

Mud squished behind you and you turned to find a group of four more villagers stalking toward you.

"C'mon," you muttered, frustration laced in your voice like venom. There was no winning this fight. Your only choice was to turn tail and run. But to where? The last thing you wanted to do was run deep into the woods with nothing more than you knife. So what–

An axe whizzed past your head, lodging itself into the wall behind you. "I take it we can't talk this out," you said. The villagers only growled back at you.

You vaulted over the fence next to you as they pounced, narrowly avoiding another axe. Then you were running as fast as possible.

Branches scratched your skin, mud sloshed and slid beneath your feet. You didn't know where you were going, and nor did you really care at the moment.

You burst through the trees and found yourself in a small clearing. You stopped to see if anyone had followed you and when you didn't hear anything but the sound of rustling trees and chirping birds, you let yourself relax.

"Condor one," you said, reaching to activate your earpiece. "Condor one, I'm here." No reply. "Leon?" Nothing. You tossed your arms. Of course your equipment would stop working the instant you were free.

You looked back toward the village. Smoke rose into the sky. The screams of that poor officer still echoed in your ears. You knew you needed to go back, that if you were going to find Leon the best place to start looking was there. But having nothing more than your knife to defend yourself with made you hesitant.

Still, it's not like you had much of a choice.

"You got the stench of battle on ya," a rough voice said. You whirled on your heels, knife ready. A man in a black cloak stood behind you, a purple mask covering the lower half of his face. "You can put the knife down, I mean you no harm."

"Who are you?" You demanded, not lowering your knife.

He chuckled. "Just a man tryin' ta make a living. Got some rare things on sale for ya, stranger." He held out an arm, revealing a variety of weapons and ammunition along the inside of his sleeve.

"Impressive," you mused. "But I don't have any money.  So thanks, but no thanks."

"Nothin' wrong with doing things the old fashioned way," the merchant replied. "How 'bout a trade?"

His offer was tempting. You didn't have much, but maybe there was something you could give him in exchange for that pistol you spotted on his sleeve.

You lowered the knife and folded your arms. What did you have to offer? Your knife wasn't worth much and you were hesitant to part with it. Aside from that… Your heart sank as you remembered the one valuable you did have on you. 

Leon had gifted you a necklace on your birthday last year. A beautiful silver piece with a small yet intricately detailed bird hanging from it. He never told you what it had cost, but you knew it had to be expensive. Subconsciously, your hand came up to touch it.

"That's a fine piece you got there," the merchant said.

You didn't want to, but it could mean the difference between life or death. After a moment of silence, you asked, "What will it get me?"

"It may be small, but this beauty packs a mean punch." He showed off a revolver. "And as a first-time customer, I'll toss this in free of charge." He flaunted a can of first aid spray. "Whaddya say, stranger?"

Given the circumstances, you weren't sure you could pass up the offer. Reluctantly, you took off the necklace and handed it to him. As promised, you received both the revolver and spray.

The merchant must have noticed how your eyes continued to follow the necklace as he held it. "This is in good hands, I assure you. Now, don't go gettin' yourself killed." There was nothing more to say. The deal was done. With a simple nod, you turned away and began to trek through the forest back toward the village.

You felt naked without the weight of the bird against your chest. Ever since Leon had given it to you, you'd almost never taken it off. What would he think when he saw you without it? That necklace was his silent claim on your heart.

Romantic relationships between agents were frowned upon, forbidden almost. As far as the agency was concerned, it was a conflict of interest and if anyone found out, it was likely they'd separate you. Leon couldn't have that. He needed you as his partner both on and off the field, to be sure you were (somewhat) safe and alive.

He must be worried sick, you thought. Unless it was absolutely necessary, Leon hardly ever allowed radio silence between you two. It had been hours since you last had contact with him. Hell, the last time you saw him was when he left the police car to find the first police officer that had wandered off, instructing you to keep an eye on the second. 

You checked the chamber of the revolver. Six bullets. Six shots. You had to make them count.

You tried your earpiece again. Still no answer. Maybe the signal would get better the closer–

"Mother of god!" You yelped, pawing at your ear in pain. A loud screech filled your ear, followed by the sharp crackling of static. 

A voice was coming through the other end. It was Hunnigan.

"Condor two," she said, "What is your status?"

"You could warn me next time before you almost blow out my eardrum," you shot back. "I'm still breathing. All four limbs are accounted for. I'm on my way back to the village."

"Negative, Condor two," Hunnigan replied curtly. "There's a good chance Baby Eagle is being held in a church by the lake. I've sent you the coordinates."

"Well, I'd love to see those, but I've lost pretty much all my stuff." You could practically see her rolling her eyes.

"Alright, I have a lock on your position. Head north from your position. Leon is on his way there now."

"Roger that, Roost. Condor two out."

You finally managed to find a path leading north. So far you'd encountered no one else and you hoped it'd stay that way. You wanted to hang on to your six bullets for as long as you could.

"Condor one?" You tried again. If Hunnigan was able to reach you now, you should be able to reach Leon. Right? "Leon?" Silence. You'd be having a serious chat with your techies when you got back.

The lake couldn't be too far now. Trees and brush was beginning to thin and that musty lake smell began to hover in the air. The gravel path you walked along slowly turned into a muddy trail. You emerged onto the bank of the lake. A castle stood menacingly in the distance on the other side. To your left, you saw old wood scaffolding webbing up the side of a cliff. A dock sat just underneath it and at the top, you could just barely make out a church's roof.

Looks like that was where you were heading. With a new determination, you began the long walk over, falling back into the treeline to avoid detection from the water and clifftops.

~~

Ashley Graham was the priority. She was the one they were here to save. Even if one of you had to be left behind or killed to do it, she was the objective. 

But Leon refused to leave you. Even if he had to take your body back to the States, there was no reality where he left you here in this hell.

He'd come so close to you in the village. He'd seen you through his binoculars and then you were gone. Once the villagers had retreated into their church, he'd searched the place high and low, finding only your guns and equipment. He was fearing the worst knowing you were out there with only a knife, assuming it hadn’t given out on you yet.

He continued along the winding path, still trying to catch his breath. The village chief had nearly choked him to death not long before and he still felt the ghost of his fingers on his neck.

"Looks like you're in quite the rush, stranger." Leon stopped and rolled his eyes. It seemed like this merchant was there at almost every turn.

Oh well. Leon could stand to lose some excess weight from his bag. As he opened his mouth to reply, his words caught in his throat. There, among the vast array of goods, was your necklace.

"Cat got yer tongue?" The merchant chuckled.

"Where the hell did you get that?" Leon said, his voice low.

"What? This?" The merchant held up the necklace. "An exchange with a traveler lookin' to keep their head on their shoulders."

A part of Leon wanted to be hurt that you'd traded it. But his more rational side understood that you didn't have a choice. He'd found everything but your knife in the village and he knew well enough that you'd need more than just that to make it through this.

The merchant was a reasonable enough man. Leon was sure he could trade something to get the necklace back. Without a second thought, he rummaged through his bag and pulled out two silver goblets and a handful of gems he'd found in the village.

"Must hold sentimental value if yer gonna trade all that for this," the merchant observed. "Can't put a price on that." Still, the merchant tossed Leon the necklace and stashed away the rest. "Pleasure doin' business with ya."

That was easy, Leon thought. Much easier than he anticipated.

Pop pop

Leon perked up. Two solid gunshots had come from the direction of the church. It had to be you. It had to be.

He took off running, not caring if he drew attention to himself. He had to find you.

~~

The church was crawling with villagers. You'd managed to kill three already, but the rest materialized from everywhere. From behind the church, from the graveyard, from the way of the lake, they were everywhere.

Down to four bullets, you had a choice to make. Ashley could be just within reach. You could potentially thin out this crowd for Leon by the time he got here, make his job easier at the cost of (most likely) your life.

Or you could turn tail and run. You refused to keep running.

Someone grabbed you from behind, wrapping their arm around your neck to choke and hold you still while another prepared to swing their axe.

You dropped your weight and threw the one holding you over your head. Grabbing your knife, you threw it as hard as you could. The one holding the axe fell with a hard thud. You ran and pulled the knife free, turning just in time to stab it into the head of another.

A pitchfork came flying at you. It whizzed past you, the spokes just barely missing your arm. Blood began to flow from the wound but you had to keep fighting. Any hesitation could result in your death.

Four more surrounded you, cornering you against the fence. Your drew your pistol and fired twice. Two flew back and dropped to the ground. Two bullets left.

You took aim once more and just as you were about to pull the trigger, something slammed into your back. You were thrown fast and far, landing hard against a headstone. The pistol clattered out of reach and when you went to pull your knife, the blade snapped from the hilt.

Your arms shook as you tried to push yourself up, only for them to give out and leave you nearly limp against the headstone. A monster of a man towered over you, a massive hammer held menacingly in his hands. He raised it high over his head.

Time slowed down. Memories began to flash through your mind. Your first time meeting Leon at bootcamp. Sparring with him in the middle of the night, comforting each other when the whole world felt like it was collapsing in on you. The first time he kissed you. 

A sense of peace washed over you as you watched the hammer begin to fall, sunlight glinting off of the metal. 

No. You couldn’t let it end like this. You rolled, the hammer meeting the ground where your head had been not a second before. Scrambling to your feet, you dove for your gun. Back on your feet, you shot down two more villagers. Better to have them dead now and not wait for them to gang up with the big one against you.

Your bullets were gone and your knife was broken. You scanned for anything you might be able to use. The brute marched toward you, hammer ready. You lept over headstones, ripping a shovel from the hands of a dead villager. 

You turned just in time to bring the shovel up to meet the hammer, stopping it in its path. The wood handle splintered, your arms shook with the strength it took to keep the hammer from you. The handle cracked into two pieces and the brute charged into you, throwing you hard against a tree and knocking the air from your lungs. He charged again, hammer high and then–

BANG!!!!

The man stumbled back forward. Another BANG and he fell to the ground lifeless.

“Y/n?” came Leon’s voice. A second later he was in front of you, cupping your face in his hands. 

“I had it handled,” you muttered.

“Of course you did.” He helped you sit up the brushed your hair away from your face. The urge to pull you into his arms was overwhelming, but with the beating you just took he didn’t want to risk hurting you even more. At least you were alive. “Think you can stand?”

You nodded and let him help you up. Your legs were shaking and your head felt dizzy, almost falling into Leon as you tried to regain your balance. He held you against him until the world stopped spinning and you could stand on your own again. 

“What happened?” Leon asked, his arm tightening around your waist, almost as if he were afraid that you’d disappear the moment he let go.

“Got bored, decided to go sightseeing,” you replied. He gave you a look. “We were ambushed and I have been hit in the head too many times today.”

He nodded and dug around in his pocket. "I found something I thought you might want back." He held up the necklace you'd traded with the merchant.

"Leon…" Guilt and shame came over you, but also relief at the sight of it. "I'm sorry, I–"

"I know," he said, moving to fasten it around your neck and tucking it under your collar. "You didn't have a choice, I get it. I also found the rest of your stuff."

A weight lifted off your shoulders. Your pistols felt like a comforting blanket as you strapped them back on. "What would I do without you?"

"Crash and burn," Leon said simply as he hooked an arm around your waist and drew you back to him, crashing his lips against yours. He pulled away and smirked down at you, knowing the kiss left you breathless. 

It took a moment for you to regain your senses and when you finally registered the knowing look on his face, you swatted his chest. “C’mon, Romeo. We still have a job to do.” It took another moment for your feet to start moving again, your body wanting to stay wrapped up in his arms. They couldn’t waste any more time. “Baby Eagle’s still waiting for us.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Leon watched as you quickly approached the front gate of the church, a new pep in your step. He’d do everything in his power to make sure you weren’t separated again.

[ovaryacted]

RELEASE YOUR INHIBITIONS

PAIRING: RE4! Leon x fem! reader

SYNOPSIS: Leon comes back home all tense from the stress building up in his body. Being the loving partner you are, you give him some much needed relief.

CONTENT/WARNING: 18+/MDNI. NSFW. Porn without plot. Hard Dom/Sub. Authority Kink. Hair Pulling. Degradation/Humiliation. Throat Fucking. Spanking. Spitting. Knife Play. Light Cum Play. Dacryphilia. Use of stoplight system. Some aftercare towards the end.

WC: 5.4k

NOTES: Godamn sorry about the wait but here is Week 2 of Kinktober, probably the craziest and longest thing I've written so far. We're slowly catching up to get back on schedule before the month ends lol. Yeah, intense fucking, Leon is a warning on his own. I had fun writing this too and I hope you all like it! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

《 Kinktober Masterlist 2023 ⟡ Main Masterlist 》

Hard leather boots scraped the floor of the entryway with every step he took. The wooden planks softly creaked underneath his weight as he closed the front door behind him. Taking a step forward, he threw the keys in the glass bowl at the entrance console table and the duffle he carried fell to the ground.

It wasn’t like Leon to be this irritable, but the bullshit he kept handling continued to build up in ways he could no longer manage. He was usually a man of composure, keeping his emotions in check and not being able to register them half of the time. He tries his hardest not to crack under pressure, the years of training he had to endure ingraining into his mind to tolerate the worst of his circumstances with zero complaints.

This week, he was at his limit, ready to snap at any given moment from having limited time to feel normal. The constant assignments and the shitload of responsibilities he’s given without so much as a please and a thank you were driving him insane. It was just too much, and he could feel the migraine he had since this morning beginning to pulse at his temples.

Even if he didn’t vocalize it, you could always tell his cues before he did. Knowing him so intimately gave you the ability to read his body language, a quality Leon was always grateful to have found in his partner. You’ve been with him long enough that you learned to tell his mood based on the way he walked around the apartment.

If his footsteps were light and soft, he was alright, possibly having a small smile on his face and looking for you to wrap his arms around your waist in a hug. If you didn’t hear his footsteps despite him being inside, he’s probably being mischievous or anxious about something, no in between.

In the instance where his footsteps were heavy and loud, he was stressed and annoyed. This circumstance was rare, Leon doing his best to keep the inconvenience of his job out of the safe space you two created in the comfort of your home. But you knew him best and understood he was a man who walked around with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Coming out of hiding from the bedroom, you saw him right at the threshold separating the hallway and the living room. He didn’t say much, but you saw it in his eyes, how his thoughts tormented him to no avail.

“Baby, you alright?”, you asked him carefully, approaching him slowly while he stood as still as a statue due to all the tension he had built up inside him. The second your fingers grazed his chest through his jacket, you felt the rumble of a sigh, but his hands didn’t reach to touch you.

“I’m guessing today was a bad day?”, you waited for him to speak on his own before making any assumptions.

“Just pissed”, Leon said almost in a growl, and you could tell it was bad from the way his jaw clenched and his eyebrows furrowed together. You didn’t know the extent of his irritation, but from the way his chest shook with every exhale, it was deeper than usual. Nodding in silent acknowledgment, you were mentally preparing for what you would ask him next.

“What do you need?”, at that question, Leon’s bright blue eyes met up with yours, his mind painting a picture of what he wanted but he refused to say it completely.  

“I don’t think you want to know”, he muttered, but you were stubborn just like him.

“Try me”, you wouldn’t turn him down, no matter how crazy his suggestion may be. You’ve seen him at his worst even if he attempted to hide it from you, but you knew he needed you in more ways than one.

There was a moment when his gaze landed on you again, finding comfort and reassurance in how you saw what he was planning. Your soft look told him everything he needed to hear without saying anything at all. I trust you. I’m here for you, whatever you need.

No words came out as he grabbed your hips, pulling you flush to his body and kissing you harshly. It took you off guard at first at the force of the kiss, but you welcomed it and let him lead. His hands squeezed at you aggressively, teeth and tongue meshing together between you two as your breath caught in your throat. It was as if he wanted to eat your face alive, his lips pressed hard against you and making your body heat up. All too soon, he pulled away, leaving your lips tingling from the sensation of his mouth on yours.

“Bedroom. Now.”, pleasantries were out of the window, and Leon wasn’t up for any games. You followed his orders, playing the role of whatever he needed you to be at that very moment. The tension in the air was thick between you, seeing his figure coming in through the door and closing it behind him as if to signal that there was no escape.

Standing and waiting for his next command, he teased you the slightest bit, taking off the leather jacket he wore and tossing it on the armchair in the corner of the room. His head turned to look at you, mouthing two words that filled your body with arousal.

“Come here.”

Feeling gravitated to him, you did just that, walking towards him until your feet were almost touching his. His demeanor told you he wasn’t going to play nice, that much you could read. But Leon was always full of surprises when he was like this, so you never fully knew what to expect and that’s what made it so exciting.

“What am I going to do with you…”, he seemed to ask himself this, running his fingers over your cheek as you chased his touch. He chuckled when you did, noticing the blush you already had on your face.

“You remember what to say and do when it gets too much?”, Leon asked you, his tone softer than before as he studied you when you nodded. “Tell me”

“I say red, or I tap your thigh”, you tell him simply, and since he arrived at the apartment he has a smile on his hardened face.

“Good. Now get on your knees”, his tone was back to being forceful, watching you move down to the floor without hesitation.

“I’ve always liked you like this, ready and eager to please. I knew I did the right thing keeping you around”, he said, but his words only added to the fire starting to grow in your lower gut.

“You know what to do baby. Don’t make me tell you twice”, he called out to you, feeling your hands running up his thick thighs through the dark wash jeans he wore.

You were quick to get him out of his pants, undoing his belt at the buckle and tossing it to the side behind you. Lowering the zipper and popping the button, you grew shy knowing Leon was watching every move you made, but you’ve done this a hundred times over. The thick denim material hiding his body slipped down to the middle of his thighs, followed by you pulling down the briefs he wore.

Already half-hard and throbbing, you wasted no time, kissing his bulge and touching his hips. He let you do that for a while, just simply touching him and building up the tension before your neck strained with the way he yanked your hair in his fist. Needy eyes focused on his face, and he smirked down at you.

“Don’t tease me. Open wide, I want to feel the back of your throat”, he was back to using a more authoritative tone of voice, and you knew better than to make him wait any longer.

“Yes sir”, you merely gasped, your lips parting to suck at his tip, tasting the savory precum through his slit.

Inhaling a breath, your hot mouth encased his cock easily, slowly slipping down as far as you could and relaxing your jaw before taking more of him. You breathed in your nose now, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks with your hands on his thigh for support, nails curling into his skin. You heard the groan of relief from above you, and you couldn’t help the way your lips curled upwards around him as you sucked him off.

You knew how he liked it. Messy, hot, and sloppy, your throat a safe haven to help him forget all of the things that upset him at that moment. Lucky enough to have some semblance of control before he took charge, you felt his fingers tighten on your head. Clutching the strands at your scalp, he pushed your mouth off of him until just the tip rested against your tongue.

“Having fun?”, you heard him say, a deep chuckle leaving him as he looked down at you. With one of his hands still wrapped in your hair, the other took hold of himself and tapped the tip of his length on your tongue, making you pant out for him.

“My needy girl, always wanting something in her mouth or she’ll get cranky”, he was condescending in his words, and you knew not to take it personally. In reality, all they did was make your body quiver from excitement.

Tugging you closer to his body with a pull of your hair, your mouth surrounded him again, forcing you down to the very base of his pelvis until your nose rubbed against his pubic bone. He held you there for a few seconds, just to feel your throat constrict around him and you sputtered against him. A tap to his thigh was felt, and he pulled back so you could take a breath before he did it again.

His hips moved to thrust toward the wet heat of your mouth, chasing the comforting warmth as dragged your head down simultaneously. You could feel him hitting the deepest parts of your throat, fighting the urge to swallow around him every time he dipped further down into you. He lost himself to the sensation of you deep-throating him, feeling the way your spit pooled in your mouth and covered his length every time he slipped back out.

“Always take me so fucking well. Mouth just as good as your pussy, I love it”, he rasped out, driving his hips further towards your face as you struggled to breathe through your nose.

His balls hit the bottom of your chin, drool beginning to cover the lower parts of your face with every piston of his hips. Leon reveled in the audible gagging sound that filled the bedroom, how your fingers clutched at his thighs but didn’t tap him as a signal to stop. He kept going, a consistent and snappy rhythm that made your jaw sore from how long it’s been opened. He might’ve been a bit rough with you now, but he knew you could handle it, he’s trained you to do so. 

“You’re disgusting baby. Letting me do this to you, letting me fuck your pretty face like the whore you are”, he felt the vibration of a moan around him, eyes glossed over from the force of his hips colliding with your face.

“I bet you’re just soaked right now. Yeah, I know you are. You always get wet when you have some dick down your throat.”

Your face was flushed and you felt yourself clench, your legs squirming against the floor as your knees twitched. You so badly wanted to squeeze them together for some relief, to run a hand down between your thighs and rub at your clit until you finished yourself off. But you knew better, you refrained because this wasn’t about you, this was about him.

Leon’s cock pulsed against your tongue, another groan coming out of his mouth as one of his hands came to curl around your neck. He could feel the ridges of your skin expand from how deep he hit, every thrust against you stretching the base of your throat. It only made him fuck into your face harder, the pace of it making you dizzy and your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“I’m gonna cum right here, and you’re gonna let me”, his fingers squeezed around your neck, making it even harder for you to breathe properly.

He overtook your senses, knowing he was about to fall over the edge. He cursed under his breath, words getting lost in the loud shlick sound that came from every push and pull he gave you. Tears gathered at your lash line, your grip around his shaking thighs growing weak the more Leon moved.

“Fuck fuck fuck…”, repeating those words like a mantra, he finished with a loud grunt. 

Grabbing your head to pin it flush against his hips, you felt his cum going down your throat, choking against him as tears ran down your face. Clutching at his body and breathing shakily, you tried to remain calm to the best of your ability. You took everything he had to give you, no questions asked, closing your eyes and focusing on grounding yourself to whatever made sense.

With ease, Leon pulled his hips back, letting you catch your breath as you coughed the slightest bit. He could see the way you looked now, taking it all in and engraving it into his memory. Spit on your chin and cheeks, some of it hitting the top of your nose, face flushed and lips puckered up and pink. Your eyes were hazy, pupils dilated and almost lost as they focused up at him.

You were a mess, and that was how he liked you. He liked it when you were his mess.

But you knew he wasn’t done with you, not yet anyway.

“Get up.”, commanding you once more, you got off of your knees and stood on your feet, your knees almost buckling underneath your weight.

Leon grabbed your face, fingers squeezing your cheeks and kissing you on the mouth again. He could care less about how messy it was, how he could taste himself against your tongue, but that was what he wanted. He wanted to chase that sense of possession, that feeling that you’re the only one who could handle him like this.

Walking you towards the bed, the back of your knees hit the mattress, making you fall backward against it. Your elbows dug into the sheets, positioning yourself up on the edge of the bed as Leon kicked his boots off followed by throwing his jeans and shirt off. You looked over his body, eyes trailing over the hardened muscle he’s gained over the years, and your mind began to wander.

He lunged towards you, pawing at your body and trying to take off your t-shirt and lounge shorts. You gladly let him, his touch rough with fingers weathered from the constant gun holding. Leon was elated to find you not wearing a bra underneath, knowing you didn’t wear one when you were home. He left you in your underwear, a hand curled around your bare thigh and kneading at the skin.

“Making it easy for me aren’t you?”, he leered, hands instantly going towards your chest and squeezing your breasts. You moaned at the touch, arching further up into him and letting him handle you however he wanted.

“Yes sir”, you didn’t know if he was directly asking you the question, but you responded to him anyway.

An airy gasp left you when his lips grazed a nipple, your hands going to his hair and running through his scalp. His tongue lavishly circled one nipple before he quickly moved to the other, biting it softly and feeling it harden in his mouth.

“Color baby”, his voice filtered through the mess that was your brain, getting through to you.

“Green sir”

“Good”, he started to look for something around him, your ears picking up the sound of an item being unsheathed. Shiny metal filled your vision, and your eyes widened.

Leon held his tactical knife in his hand, thick fingers wrapped around the handle as he looked down at you. The grin on his face was almost dark, something you’ve only seen on rare occasions, but you couldn’t ignore the way it made a shiver run down your spine.

“You trust me, don’t you?”, he asked you, as if to reassure himself that you would let him do what he wanted to do next. You nodded, but he wanted to hear it from you.

“Answer me.”

“Yes, I always trust you sir”, your voice was shaky but the intent of your words wasn’t missed. You trusted Leon with your life, and when it came to things like this you’d do anything for him.

“I know you do”, he told you, the blunt part of the knife going towards your neck.

You gasped at the touch, keeping still and trying not to arch into the teasing sensation of cool metal running down your body. Leon’s grip curved a bit, the blade moving into the indent of your collarbone and down in between your chest slowly. The heat in your body was becoming unbearable, your hips twitching when you felt the edge of the knife dip toward the end of your belly button.

“You’d just let me do anything to you right? So long as it’s me doing it to you, an easy slut like you wouldn’t care what I did with this knife”

Anyone else would find those words disrespectful, but the sick part of you only wanted to indulge. You wanted more of this, more of Leon releasing his inhibitions and doing and saying exactly what he wanted.

“Yes sir”, you nodded, softly panting when the sharp edge of his knife ran along the waistband of your panties.

 “You’d let me fuck you with this against your neck wouldn’t you”, he chortled darkly, moving the knife towards your thighs, being careful not to shift the way he handled it to avoid accidentally cutting you.

You nodded and your breath hitched in your throat, fingers grasping at the sheets the higher the blade went up your body. Leon was meticulous in his teasing, one of his hands moving to spread your legs more and to pin you down. His gaze went to the wet patch against the gusset of your panties, smirking again to see how turned on you were from how he treated you.

“You’re sick for liking this shit darling. I didn’t know I was dating someone so perverted”

Carefully, he twisted the knife so it was flat against your pussy, the hard surface pressed on your clit through the cotton fabric of your underwear. A needy moan filled the room and you had to stop yourself from grinding into the blade, growing desperate for more.

“Please sir…”, was the only thing you could say, Leon humming in response and pressing the knife harder against you. If you shifted your hips or legs even the slightest bit, you would hurt yourself. The danger of it all was what sent your hormones spiking, knowing that you put all of your trust into Leon like this was enough to turn your head to mush.

He decided to take pity on you after all the teasing, moving the knife away from between your legs and running the edge towards your hip. Swiftly, he cut at the waistband of your panties, making you yelp at the quickness of it. He did the same to the other side, ripping the now ruined cotton fabric out of his way and putting his knife on the bedside table away from the both of you.

Leon pounced on you, spreading your legs open and trialing a sneaky hand in between them. You didn’t protest when his fingers started to rub your pulsing clit, whimpering out at the touch and moving your hips for more. Clutching at one of your thighs to keep you opened up for him, he continued his touching, favoring tight circles on your sensitive nub and watching every reaction you made with hungry eyes.

“Awe? Does my whore need more?”, he commented, fingers trailing further down to stroke your entrance, marveling at how wet you were.

“Knew you’d be fucking soaked for me”

You felt two of his fingers slip into you and curl directly into your g-spot with practiced precision, crying out for him loudly. Leon leaned his body further down against you, his torso keeping your legs open as he thrust his digits into you. You arched your back and went to grasp at his shoulders, grinding your hips to fuck up into his hand. Already so pent up from the way Leon used your throat, you grew desperate to find any form of relief from his constant torture.

“Look at you, using my hand to get yourself off. Needy pussy can’t last a single day without being touched by me”

“Sir, please…”

You were begging now, stuck on the feeling of his thick fingers picking up their pace inside you and making you keen. Leon was taking in the show underneath him, how your eyebrows creased and you bit your lip to the point of bleeding the closer you got to your release. He could feel it, from the way your tight walls started to clench around him with every plunge.

The center of his palm came to rub against your clit and another digit entered you, bringing you to the point of overstimulation from the stretch. You were so close, your nails digging into his biceps and leaving red streaks in their wake. Your thighs shook, throat growing raw from the sounds you made and the pressure was building up so quickly in your body. On the verge of getting that pleasure you craved, Leon’s touch disappeared, and you opened your eyes in agitation. He sucked his fingers into his mouth, licking off whatever remained of your fluids and not caring about what he had just done.

“Why?!”, you said to him, voice higher in tone and unsteady from how your orgasm was taken away from you. He raised an eyebrow at your outburst, body leaning closer to you and his face turned serious.

“Are you trying to fight with me?”

“N-no sir”

“Mad you didn’t get to cum the way you wanted? I don’t give a shit if you’re upset, you take what I give you”, his sharp tone made you whine, the dominance rolling off of him in waves as his fingers squeezed at your hips.

“Repeat it.”

“I only take what you give me sir”, voice soft to prevent upsetting him further.

“So you do remember the rules. Let’s see just how good your brain is at following orders. Turn around, on your hands and knees”, he demanded, watching you move into position on the bed. His hands were on your hips, pulling you towards him so you were flush against his body.

“Count for me”

It was the last thing you heard before you felt a sting on your right ass cheek. The force of it made you lunge forward with a wince against the sheets. You weakly turned your head so he could hear your voice instead of digging your face into the bed.

“One sir”

“Good to know you still have manners”, he retorted, bringing his hand back down on the other cheek with a hard smack.

You kept counting, your voice wavering with every spank Leon delivered onto your ass. He’s fully aware of the fact that he was heavy-handed, using that to his advantage and not holding back with the intensity of the hits. Your skin began to turn red from the impacts, growing sensitive to the touch and no doubt leaving his handprints behind. 

“Fuck ten! T-ten sir!”, you mewled into the bedsheets, body shaking from the treatment you had to endure and flinching away from him the slightest bit.

His hands were completely off your backside, rubbing at your shoulders affectionately.

“Color”, he was almost the slightest bit worried he went too far, eyeing you closely for any sign of discomfort on your end. 

“G-green, green sir. Promise”, you said, lifting your head to look at him from across your shoulder. Your cheeks were red, slightly breathless and tears ran down your face again. His hand went to rub your thigh, silently communicating he accepted you wanting to continue.

“You want me to fuck you now?”, he asked and pressed your hips towards his once more. You shivered when you felt his hard cock against your core, biting your lip and nodding your head.

“Please, just fuck me. Need it so bad”, you couldn’t stop your body from moving on its own, shifting back towards him and feeling the way his length bumped into your clit with every soft grind.

You sobbed at the feel of Leon finally pushing himself deep inside you with one thrust, so wet there was no resistance. He was balls deep, just taking in the way you twitched around him, sighing happily at the feel of having you like this.

“Christ, you feel good. Always so hot and tight”, he grunted to himself, pulling his hips back until he was almost out of you and moved to collide with your body again.

There was no buildup, no teasing, just pure need as Leon fucked you with no restraint. You couldn’t do anything but take him, your bedroom filling with lewd skin-slapping from the way your ass clapped against his hips.

Losing yourself to the pleasure, you fucked back into him, whining into the sheets and growing light-headed from how hard he was moving against you. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix every time he dove back into you, balls smacking into your clit with every shift. He fucked you with reckless abandon, huffing and grunting under his breath. Your wetness dripped down his shaft and onto the bed, the sound of every thrust loud and audible, making your ears burn.

“This all you needed to calm down huh? Just a good fucking pounding”, you didn’t even register his words, too busy focusing on how he was stretching you out.

One of his hands came to curl into your hair again, yanking your face up and having your head against his chest. You knew you were crying now from feeling so good, face flushed and tongue lolling out on your lip.

“Panting like a bitch in heat. My little crybaby”, you hummed at him, agreeing to anything he said because you didn’t want him to stop.

He turned your head to face him then, kissing you hard and you tried your hardest to reciprocate. Swallowing any sound that came out of your mouth, his hand on your hip squeezed even harder, and you knew he was going to leave bruises. Just the thought alone was enough to make the rope of tension in your body wound even tighter.

“Open your mouth”, he ordered you, internally smiling when you parted your lips and stuck your tongue out.

Gathering some spit, he spat directly into your mouth, the glob transferring right on your tongue. He saw how you swallowed and trembled against him from the act he just did.

“Nasty fucking slut. Cry for me as I fuck you senseless”

He pushed your head towards the bed again, pounding into you deeply now and having a hand on your lower spine to deepen your arch. Your hot walls were pulsating around him, growing tighter the closer you got to the orgasm that was snatched away from you. He was ruining you down to the core, your thighs shaking against his and no longer having the energy to meet his thrusts, taking whatever he was willing to give you.

You shrieked when you felt his hands on your clit again, circling the sensitive button and arching into his touch. The bed was shifting underneath you, your fingers holding onto the sheets and releasing a loud wail. Your body was shaking from exertion, not knowing how much more you could take with your release right around the corner.

“C’mon, cum for me. Cum for me so I can fill you up the way you want”

Leon was nice enough to not let you beg for it, his words making that rope of tension finally snap. Mind going blank, you didn’t recall if any sound came out of your mouth as you tumbled over the edge violently. Your skin felt damn near feverish, an electric shock starting from the balls of your feet to the top of your head and exploded into a sense of pins and needles running all over you. If it weren’t for Leon’s hands holding you steady, you would’ve jerked yourself completely off of him.

“Shit, there we go baby, yeah. I’m gonna cum deep inside you, gonna watch it spill out”, he was spewing nonsense, determined to fill you up until you couldn’t take anymore.

His rhythm grew sloppy, back hunching over your body and groaning out your name against your ear. Pumping into you a few more times, his cock throbbed as he came with a guttural moan. Curses spilled from his mouth as he painted your insides, not wanting to stop moving against you or leave your wet snatch. He sighed when he finally stopped, giving you an affectionate kiss on the cheek and neck while he came down from his high.

“You still with me?”, you heard him say, only being able to offer him a soft and tired hum.

He pulled out of you carefully, hissing at the feeling and his eyes were right on your pussy. His cum leaked out of you, running down your inner thigh from where your hips were still propped up. He couldn’t stop his thumb from collecting some of it and smearing it over your entrance, another way to show how he’s already claimed you.

Your mind was distant, still coming down from cloud nine as you heard his footsteps grow distant behind you. He came back towards you with a wet rag from the bathroom, cleaning you up as gently as he could knowing you were probably sensitive. Disposing of the rag, he brought you into his arms on the bed, mindful to not smother you and let you breathe.

“I’m sorry baby”, he said to you, kissing your face and bringing you back to him. He wasn’t always that rough with you, preferring to be more loving in bed instead. But when he was like that, you welcomed it nonetheless.

“I’m still in one piece Leon. You won’t break me that easily”, you finally replied to him, nuzzling into his palm as his thumb wiped the tear streaks from the sides of your face. He chuckled then, relieved that he hadn’t done too much.

“Do you feel a little better now?”, you asked him, not needing a verbal confirmation to know he felt more at ease based on how affectionate he was being.

“Yeah, much better. I needed that, thank you”, he placed soft kisses on your lips, happy sighs leaving him. He’ll tell you about his day later on, right now he just wanted to enjoy this moment a little longer.

“I love you”, you told him, knowing that sometimes you had to remind him that you still cared after moments like these.

“I love you too. Are you in the mood for a nap? Because now I’m just tired”

Strong arms brought you closer to him, cuddling into your neck and continuing to kiss your skin. You didn’t object, letting yourself get comfortable in his embrace as the both of you began to doze off.

“You owe me another pair of panties by the way”, you said with your eyes closed, hearing Leon snort against you.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll take you shopping tomorrow so you can buy more. Now shush I’m trying to sleep here”, giving you another kiss on your temple and gently tracing the curve of your back.

You’d do anything for him, and Leon was content to know that you would.

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