“she told you she celibate, she told me i can nail her shit.”
leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
cw: mdni ! smut, loud sex, kind of rough sex, riding, lowkey fwb, mating press, uhh jealousy if that counts, kissing, lots of pet names (girly, princess, i think i out sweetheart in there), NOT PROOFREAD!!
a/n: based off that one sound on tiktok bc i keep seeing edits 🥹 also high key reminds of heated rivalry “scott hunter is right next door…” LMFAO hope u enjoy!!
Leon hates these stupid work parties. Banquets that could’ve been an email, award ceremonies with medals and badges he would’ve preferred to see in the mail. It’s not like he’s antisocial, he likes to hang out with the people he works with, but a night in a stuffy suit and endless conversations is almost worse than a mission.
Don’t get him started on the plus one bullshit. He simply doesn't have time or patience for a partner, much less at these godforsaken events. He usually goes alone and regretfully suffers the teasing comments—“Oh, alone again Kennedy? No girlfriend this time?”
His only saving grace is you, another agent who he works with on his rare duo missions. You’re just about the only other single person in the entirety of the DSO—that’s what it feels like. Sometimes, you two will sit at events and roll your eyes at people showing off their partners. Then an awkward silence after of a silent agreement ‘cause you both know you’re just envious.
“Do you think we can call in sick?” Leon sighs as you both sit in your hotel room before you have to leave for an event. This ceremony thingy-bullshit is a bigger, more nationwide one that your boss sent you both to. One room, but two beds, at least. Cheapskates knew you didn’t have significant others and didn’t bother with privacy.
“I mean, prolly… but we lowkey might get flamed,” you reply. He leans against the doorway of the bathroom as he watches you do your makeup. The pretty, long dress you have on is a far cry from the tactical gear he usually pairs you with. Both looks are hot as hell, he definitely can’t deny that. He’ll just tuck that secret in his pocket for now.
“Well, hurry up. Maybe we can show up and leave as quick as possible,” he says as he checks his watch and pretends as if he didn’t just try to check you out. Not that it would be the first time.
Extremely unfortunately, you make it to the event, dreading every click of your heels against the marbled floors as you step inside. This one’s clearly expensive and fancy—that’s worse. The bar quickly becomes Leon’s victim. He lets you know he’ll get you a drink while you find them a spot at a table with an easy escape.
Well, he didn’t really expect to come back and find some guy hitting on you. He’s more curious than annoyed, but it’s there. This guy has the audacity to hit on a girl like you?
“Really? They flew you all the way out here, huh? So you’re pretty special,” this idiot smirks, thinking his blinding white teeth are gonna win you over. Leon can tell you’re irritated.
“Sure, you could say that,” you reply with pursed lips and your best disinterested voice. Your gaze shifts briefly to Leon standing behind him who looks amused. You’re only taking note of your drink that he’s holding.
“Well, special lady, would you maybe like to go to dinner with me somewhere more… private?” He lowers his tone leaning in a little, thinking he’s smooth as hell.
“Uh… no, y’know my schedule’s kinda full…” you shake your head, using that very obvious rejection tone. If he hasn’t taken the hint already, he has to take it now, right?
“Okay, no date. Maybe just uh… a night together?”
Nope. You were stupid to think a man would ever take a hint.
His tone makes it obvious what he’s asking, he wants his head under your dress. He says it like he knows you’ll say yes.
“Oh, I’m celibate, actually,” you smile tersely. He gives you a look as if he doesn’t believe you.
“Really? A pretty girl like you isn’t interested in sex?” He raises an eyebrow, taking a step closer as if that’s gonna fix your supposed virginity. “I find that hard to believe, sweetheart.”
“Ah, too bad. Really sucks when not every living female wants to fuck you, huh?” You can’t help but mock, returning the raised brow. “Afraid it’s just gonna be you and your fist tonight.”
He scoffs, trying not to look as offended as he clearly feels. He finally seems to take the hint. “God, some special lady you are,” he grumbles, pushing off the chair he was leaning on and giving you a look before disappearing.
“Celibate? Really?” Leon chuckles when he finally gets to talk to you again, holding out a glass of wine for you. He knows first hand that you're just about the opposite of celibate. You’ve been out drinking together multiple times… one thing leads to another.
“Just a white lie, cant hurt,” you shrug with equal amusement. You finally sit down at your carefully scouted table right next to the exit for a quick, uninterrupted escape.
The rest of the night is as boring as you expected, but a couple more glasses of wine gets you through it. The millisecond you receive your awards—some bullshit that you don’t even think needs to be awarded—you and Leon are out of there. You’ve never been more happy to see your hotel room.
Taking your time undressing and relaxing for a while, eventually you turn in for sleep. You’re even wearing your cute silky set, all curled up under the sheets. And clutching them tightly. It’s literally freezing.
“Mmh, Leon…” you mumble, trying desperately to warm yourself up. You look over your shoulder at his bare back turned to you on the other side of the room. When did he take his shirt off? “Are you awake?”
After hearing a quiet grunt, you continue. “Are you cold? I’m freezing.”
“No. ‘S hot as hell,” he grumbles. He waits for you to say something else, and just as he’s about to offer you all his sheets, he hears shuffling from your bed. A moment later, he feels the mattress dip behind him and turns over to see you kneeling on the bed and inviting yourself in.
“Y’don’t mind if we cuddle?” You murmur, slipping under the covers. He swallows as he sees your cute pajamas with the lace and he can already tell this isn’t gonna end with just cuddling. He wordlessly opens his arms up for you, wrapping them around you when you make yourself the little spoon.
He makes sure the sheets are pulled up over your shoulders, rubbing your arms and thighs underneath to try to warm you up. “Still cold?”
Well, not really. You're very hot now, actually, but you nod your head, mumbling yes.
“Want me to warm you up another way?” Leon offers, his voice quiet and rough in that way that sends a shiver down your spine. He rubs his nose against your neck, fingers brushing up under your shirt. How are you supposed to resist?
“Yeah,” you nod against the pillow, squirming slightly as he rubs your side—ticklish little thing. You help shift your legs as he pushes your shorts and panties down.
“There you go. I got you,” he murmurs, sliding his hand back up the inside of your thigh. He kisses the side of your neck as his fingers part your soft curls to get to your pussy. You can feel him smirk against your skin when he feels how wet you are.
“Doesn’t feel very cold to me,” his warm digits spread your slick around, finding your clit with ease and gently circling it with his middle finger. You whine quietly, hands grabbing his forearm that’s around your waist.
You’re snug but not tight around his fingers, easily dipping them in your wet cunt and spreading you open. He shifts, almost draping himself over you to “keep you warm” as he fingers your needy little pussy and gets you nice and ready for him.
“Oh, Leon, right there,” you whisper into the pillow as he makes sure the heel of his hand is rubbing against your clit as he adds a third finger. Your hips lightly rock against his palm, your brows pulled into that soft crease that makes you look fucking adorable.
“Look at you, going around telling people you’re abstinent and yet you’re crawling into my arms,” Leon teases gently, curling his fingers in a slow, languid way that makes your spine straighten and your breath catch.
Just as you’re mumbling about getting close and about to cum, he takes his hand away with a kiss to your shoulder beside the strap of your top. You whine, but he turns you around in his arms with one of those dumb smirks.
“C’mon, girly, you’re on top tonight. Show me how celibate you claim you are, hm?” He taunts, bringing you with him as he rolls into his back, big hands on your soft hips.
“Ugh, how did I let you talk me into this? Didn’t we say we’d stop after last time?” You complain as you settle your hands on his bare chest, your naked hips lazily grinding against the tent in his pajama pants.
“We both know we can’t stop. ‘Sides, I barely talked to you, just tried to warm you up,” he grunts as you start dry humping him, rough hands sliding down your scarred thighs. Rubs his thumbs over the small, raised lines before giving you a light slap on the ass.
“Get going, princess. You’re slow,” he says with fake impatience, staring up at you with that cheesy smirk. You roll your eyes but start to pull down his sweats and boxers anyway.
Your hips shift restlessly with need as you grip his hard cock, giving it a couple light strokes before positioning yourself above him. With your eyes on your movements, you hold him still as you slowly sink down on him with a low, gravelly moan.
“Mmh—fuck, there you go. Hug me so nice,” he sighs with a grunt of your name as he watches you. You sit there on his cock, looking up at him expectantly. This is usually the part where he takes over again and holds you hips while he thrusts up into you.
He simply returns the look. Asshole. What happened to chivalry?
You sigh dramatically, your knees on either side of his waist as you find leverage with your hands behind you on his hard, strong thighs. You don’t usually do this part.
You suck in a breath, lifting yourself up a bit, and then back down with a soft moan. Up and down, up and down, grinding softly against him and keeping eye contact.
But it’s just not the same! Even as you keep up a nice rhythm, your soft moans getting louder and your grip getting tighter, he’s not deep enough. Not hitting the spots he usually gets.
“Leon, c’mon… it’s better when you do it,” you sigh as your hands come back to the front, tracing his abs as you do your damn best riding his cock. He simply stares, amused as his hands rub up and down your thighs.
“…Leon,” you say more firmly this time, hoping you can chastise him into fucking you. It doesn’t work, and you’re getting impatient. You groan dramatically, circling your hips as you lock your eyes on his. “Leon, just fuck me already! Fuck me hard!”
He can’t help but laugh. It gets him going to see you all frustrated, as much as he hates it when you’re anything but happy. Anyway, who’s he to deny you? His hands slides up to your hips, pausing to grope your ass before firmly planting themselves above your thighs.
“Careful what you wish for,” he murmurs before lifting you up and then pulling you back down to meet his thrust. A moan slips from both of you this time as your fingers dig into his bare chest.
“Mmh, fuck yeah Leon,” you groan, leaning back so you can see his face a bit better. Not for long, ‘cause then he pounds into you hard enough to pull out a high-pitched whine and make you throw your head back with pleasure,
“God, fuckin’ love that, don’t you? You can’t even ride me properly. Always need my help,” he grunts as his hips jump to meet yours every single time. He always scolds you in that sickly sweet voice that has your pussy dripping.
“Oh—mph! Right there—yeah, nail my shit, just like that,” you say breathlessly, your head dropping to his chest as one of your hands snakes beneath you to find your clit. A half moan-half growl slips from your lips as your back arches deliciously, teetering right on the edge.
“Jesus, cumming already? Needed it bad, did you?” He murmurs as he trails gentle, contradicting kisses compared to his rough thrusts against your shoulder. “Come on, sweetheart. Cum on my cock.”
It’s hard to hear his words over the squeaking of the bed and your own moans. Almost forgot you were in a hotel—no, you definitely did forget. That’s not what’s crossing your mind right now, though. You’re too busy crossing the finish line. Moaning his name, your fingers still on your clit as i grinds up into you to help you ride it out.
“That’s it, girly. Good girl,” Leon mumbles in your ears, rolling your hips against his pelvis. Once he’s decided you've had enough rest, he gently manhandles you onto your back, quickly pushing your legs up and squishing your knees against your tits as he gets right back to work.
His hands grip the backs of your thighs, his fingertips denting into the plush skin as he pounds into your pussy. His voice leaves him in harsh grunts and satisfied groans, his gaze fixed on his cock coming in and out of your soft cunt.
“Y-Y’know… how much it pissed me off… when that guy was flirting with you?” Leon grunts through gritted teeth, almost like he was trying to keep it back.
“Fuck… yeah?” You question through your sex haze. You guys don’t really talk about other people, or your feelings. Especially not towards each other. So to have him essentially admit that he’s jealous.
“Yeah, princess. Couldn’t believe he thought he had a chance with… you,” his words come out a little slurred—he always talks too much when he gets close. You whine softly, the jealousy woven in his voice making your insides quiver.
His hands grip tighter on your thighs, not enough to bruise but definitely no less than firm. He leans over you a bit, putting a little more of his weight on top of you as he fucks you harder. He barely manages to remember he didn’t use a condom, whining pathetically as he uses all the forces of his self restraint to pull out.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…” he whispers under his breath, one big hand pushing your thighs together as he strokes himself with the other. You make sure you’ve got a front row seat to see his brows furrowed and your name falling helplessly from his lips.
Leon moans your name, his head falling back as he finally pours his hot, sticky cum all over the backs of your thighs. Rope after rope lands on the soft flesh, making him moan a little more as he squeezes as much as he can out of the tip. You look so pretty like that, he’d take a picture if he knew you wouldn’t kill him.
“Oh god… so perfect, sweetie. Did so well,” he mumbles lazily stroking himself a little longer before letting go. He smears a bit of jizz across your skin before bringing his thumb up to your mouth, letting you lick it off.
It takes a moment to recover with his thighs feeling like they’re on fire, but eventually he pats your hip and gets up. He finds a small towel in the bathroom and runs it under warm water to come clean you up. Once you have everything you need, he puts your panties back on and double checks that you're nice and cozy as his little spoon after a very abstinent night.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The light wakes you up in the morning, streaming in through the thin curtains. You grumble, waking up and shaking Leon’s shoulder awake soon after. He kisses you and says thanks for last night, before the two of you return to your “normal friendly mission partners” routine.
Just as Leon closes the door behind you, about to head out to go home, you glance over at the sound of the persom in the next room over leaving as well.
The last thing you expected was to lock eyes with the man who tried to hit on you at the event, looking tired as hell, as if he didn’t get any sleep.
“…you didn’t sound very celibate to me.”
a/n: hi hope u enjoyed!! any notes always super duper appreciated 🙌
a/n: hii, again short oneshot 'bout arms and fingers kinks! i'm also starting to work on the continuation of my drabble and requests. so, enjoy reading╰(*´︶`*)╯ pairing: afab fem!reader x re9 leon s. kennedy find me on AO3 make your REQUEST (not only re) my MASTERLIST (not done yet)
Leon S. Kennedy is quite the expert at using his hands exactly as he should.
You noticed it when he grabbed your hand and pulled you along or pulled you out of dangerous situations, telling you to stay behind him, when he gripped a gun with those long fingers, or when he sat down next to you and just talked, usually resting his hands on top of yours, on your back, or on your thigh... and the more you got to know him and the closer you became to him, the more often he touched you, bolder and more confident, but usually still appropriate enough for the public place where you both were.
But as soon as the two of you found yourselves somewhere alone, truly alone, his hands immediately began to caress you. Tangling in your hair, stroking your back, exploring every curve of your body, cupping your face in his palms to pull you close for a passionate kiss.
And every time you found yourselves together on the couch or in bed, his hands would wrap around your waist or hips, or cup your breasts. And although you really enjoy watching his hands, you appreciate them even more when you can feel them—truly feel them. Like how he grabs your hair with a strength that always surprises you, or how he squeezes your neck so tightly that you can’t breathe. Or when he grabs your waist and deftly positions you into whatever pose he likes best at that moment, and you let him.
How could you have resisted Leon and his hands?
And when they wrap around your breasts again, kneading them, teasing them, his long fingers dig into your soft flesh before focusing on your sensitive nipples, rolling them between his fingertips, pinching, tugging—all you can do is moan softly at the sensations. And although he can be quite rough with his hands at times, after that he uses his whole body to soothe you; mostly his mouth, so dirty, you know, the kind that spits out things no one should say out loud, but there are also his lips, those seductive lips that move greedily along your jaw and neck, gently sinking into your skin with kisses until they reach it with his teeth and tongue.
And that tongue…
Leon’s so skilled with his tongue. Whether it’s during a kiss or when he explores your body, licking, nibbling, and sucking on your lips, earlobes, breasts, or any patch of skin he can reach, sometimes leaving marks on you that you can barely hide the next day, and which he always soothes with the caresses of his eager tongue. And while his large hands grip your waist, he runs his tongue over your nipples until they harden and almost start to ache, and then sucks on them like a man tormented by thirst, constantly teasing and soothing them with his tongue.
Then he moves lower, caressing your stomach, tracing your navel, kissing your pelvic bones, his hands constantly gliding along your sides, exploring further until they cup your thighs and spread them apart so he can bury his face there. What he does between your legs is beyond description. At the very least, it leaves you speechless, breathless, and even mindless, and all you can do is whimper, moan, gasp, and scream with pleasure as he presses his mouth against your folds, licking the space between your labia, lapping up any moisture he creates with his skilled movements.
Usually, Leon focuses on any area of sensitive skin except your clit. He leaves it alone until it starts to throb, and you become so desperate for it that you arch your hips toward his face. Then his hands rise again, holding you tightly, his fingers digging into your skin, sometimes leaving bruises from how hard he squeezes you, while he continues his journey along your wet vagina, kissing, licking, and sucking, clamping your folds between his teeth, teasing them.
He even plunges his tongue into your depths, moving that muscle in ways you could never have imagined. And as you melt beneath him, your body twitches but no longer resists; he cups your buttocks with his hands and, kneading them with his nimble fingers, pulls you closer to his face, penetrating deeper. And only then does he move on to your clitoris. Usually it’s one or two licks, after which you shudder, screaming louder, and a few more licks until you come right in his face.
Then his hands will find yours, his fingers will slide between yours, wrap around you, squeeze you, and support you during your body’s convulsions. He may greedily soak up your wetness, but he’ll never stop until he brings you to at least one more orgasm, enjoying how you lose control, let go of everything, and forget everything that ever bothered you. And oh, how light and carefree you feel after he’s finished with you.
Or when his mouth is done with you. Because then he’ll start using his fingers, and you’ll never be able to come down from that euphoric state as he strokes that sensitive bundle of nerves with one hand while the other glides over your folds, parting your lips, caressing the wet, sensitive skin until he slides the tip of his finger inside, teasing you, feeling your walls tighten around him.
And slowly he pushes it deeper, one knuckle at a time, pressing into your tension, massaging and exploring your tender flesh, while his other hand lies flat on your stomach, feeling those contractions, and his thumb presses firmly against your clit, stroking it in circular motions.
You’ve probably already turned into a pool of your own arousal and moans, barely able to appreciate these wonderful hands and fingers, but he continues, pulling a finger out and replacing it with two, easily penetrating deeper, stretching your walls as he bends them inside you, and when he bends them just right and presses on that spot, doing so while applying strong pressure to your clit, you explode with pleasure, your moans indistinct.
He caresses you with his fingers during your orgasm, quickly and forcefully thrusting his long fingers in and out, enjoying those slurping sounds that you’d be ashamed of if you weren’t floating up to the ceiling right now. He gets even bolder and adds a third finger, stretching you even wider, preparing you for another adventure. They move back and forth while his thumb continues to circle your clit, and he might even lean down to gently kiss or roughly bite your inner thighs—perhaps both—leaving even more marks on you.
And you writhe, squirm, and tremble in his embrace, lost in ecstasy, but when he pulls his fingers away and stops caressing your clit, you look at him through half-closed eyes, and then melt even further into whatever surface you’re lying on, watching as he brings his glistening fingers to his lips and licks them with that sensual purr that drives you wild.
Leon leans back slightly, watching you with a dark gaze; his blue eyes are barely visible through his dilated pupils—he desires you so intensely. His tanned face is set, focused, his jaw clenched, and the muscles beneath his skin move so pleasantly. His hand still wraps around your neck, then you feel his other hand slide upward, tracing your curves until his warm palm presses against your breast, gently cupping it before he begins to knead it, rubbing against your nipple until it hardens.
He is so captivated by the feel of your soft flesh that he releases your neck and leans back, still pressing his hips against yours, deeply connected to you, while simultaneously cupping your other breast, holding them firmly in his large, warm, and safe hands. He continues to caress them, alternating between rough squeezes and gentle presses, your hard nipples rubbing against his calloused skin, and watches your face intently. You’ve relaxed so much that you’ve almost forgotten about his hard cock resting inside your tight pussy—but only until he suddenly starts moving.
Leon thrusts his cock into you hard, over and over, and every time he penetrates you deeply, you gasp and rock up and down but his hands on your breasts hold you in place. He uses them to guide you, gripping them tightly with his outstretched arms, and thrusts his hips hard.
Your legs spread apart again, too weak to hold him, and your whole body moves in time with his powerful thrusts. You watched his muscles ripple beneath his skin, his tendons moving with every thrust, but you threw your head back and dissolved into a pool of bliss as he continued to thrust his cock into you, stretching your walls that clenched around him; his rapid rhythm left you unable to do anything but lie before him and make those very sounds that made him move even faster.
The tension in your stomach builds, and, pinching your nipples, he thrusts deep inside you, always hitting the very deepest spot, until you cry out and arch your back, stars dancing before your eyes, your limbs twitching involuntarily as you come from his cock.
Leon lifts you up, embraces you, and presses you against his chest; his lips find your shoulder for tender kisses, after which he gently bites you. You can barely move your arms, but you try to wrap them around him, clinging to him, digging your nails into his back, while he picks up the pace even more.
Your mixed moans and sighs echo through the room as you press your cheek against his collarbone, while he holds you tightly—one hand between your shoulder blades, the other on your lower back—and thrusts into you quickly and forcefully until a moan escapes his throat, and he gives one last thrust, hitting your cervix perfectly, causing you to lose control of yourself once more.
Leon freezes inside you as you shudder, and you feel him twitch between your quivering walls. His embrace tightens as he cums inside you, filling your womb with his hot semen. His heavy breathing burns your ears as he slowly relaxes, holding you in his arms, and for a moment neither of you moves, as the heat you’ve both created spreads through your body like a wildfire.
You feel exhausted and close your eyes, though you want to watch as he gently pushes your hands away and lays you back on your back; his hands wander over your sweaty body, caressing your soft breasts until they move to your hips, holding them as he pulls back and slides out of you. You feel drops of warm semen dripping from your opening, and you don’t care at all where they land or what they stain, but then you feel his fingers on your sensitive skin, and your eyes flutter open.
Leon looks at you with a weary grin, tracing your clit with his finger, then slides that same finger into your pussy, pouring his semen inside you once more. You let out a soft gasp as he continues to caress you with his fingers until he’s certain his essence remains inside you.
When he pulls his finger out, it’s covered in your mixed juices, glistening and dripping, and you see him bring it to his mouth, but somehow you manage to lift yourself up, wrap your trembling hands around his wrist, and pull his hand toward your mouth. His eyes will sparkle with delight when he sees you licking his finger, and a quiet growl escapes his throat.
You don’t take your eyes off him as you work your way through the other fingers in the same way; your tongue caresses these beautiful fingers, the space between them, and the back of his hand, and when he curls his fingers, you feel the tendons and veins move against your tongue, and a deep shiver runs through your body. You gently wrap your small hands around his thick forearm, admiring every detail: you notice the sharp edges of his wrist, the hair falling onto his arm, the veins winding around it, and the taut muscles beneath the skin.
And he watches you intently, mesmerized by how much attention you pay to his hand—a hand you’ll never tire of admiring.
Summary: After the events of RE9, Leon Kennedy is no longer the same. Something has awakened within him: his libido has exploded, as if he were trying to reclaim every moment of life he nearly lost. He becomes insatiable, obsessed with you, with your body, with feeling alive through you. There are no more restraints, no more fear: just a deep, animalistic need, and the realization that he can finally be the man you want him to be, for as long as it takes.
Content warning: Mature content (18+), high sexual tension, intense activity, unprotected sex, explicit language, insecurities and emotional comfort, consensual sex.
Rating: 🔞 18+ / M
ー
After returning home—alive, but irreversibly changed—Leon has been transformed. It’s as if a part of him, dormant for years amid missions and constant danger, has broken free. His energy, his desire for you, have skyrocketed: he’s never satisfied, and often remains hard and throbbing for hours, as if his body wants to prove that he’s still strong, still alive, still capable of giving you everything you deserve.
It starts first thing in the morning, before you’re fully awake.
You toss and turn in the sheets, still half-asleep, when you feel the weight of the mattress shift, then the warmth of his mouth gliding gently along the inside of your thighs. You lift your head just a little, your eyes still half-closed, and see him hidden under the blanket, his blond hair tousled, his hands slowly parting your legs.
“Leon… what are you doing at this hour?” you murmur in a voice thick with sleep, but you can already feel the heat of desire stirring within you.
He answers without lifting his head, his tongue gently brushing against you, sending a shiver down your spine:
“I have to taste the sweetest thing I have before I start my day. I can’t help myself, sweetheart…”
In just a few minutes, he brings you to climax with his lips and tongue, until you lean forward, trembling and calling out his name. When he emerges from under the covers, his lips are glistening, his breath is ragged, and he already has that hard bulge pressing firmly against his pajama pants.
At breakfast, while you’re sitting at the table with your cup in hand, he just can’t sit still. He approaches from behind, brushes your waist with his large, calloused hands, and then, with a decisive gesture, spreads your legs, pushing your chair back to get closer.
“Leon, the food’s getting cold…” you try to say, but your voice trails off immediately when you feel him free himself and press against you, hot and hard.
“Food doesn’t matter right now,” he murmurs, his breath on your neck. “I have a hunger that’s stronger than that. And I’m not going to let anything come between us… I want to feel all of you, without any barriers.”
He enters you in a single, decisive thrust, making your hands slap against the tabletop, and you let out a moan that’s part pleasure, part surprise.
“Leon… so… hard…” you tell him, turning your face toward him.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” he replies, thrusting deeper, gripping your hips tightly. “I want to fill you up; I want you to be all mine. And if I leave a little something inside you, so much the better… I want to leave you something of mine, to prove to you that I’m still here, strong and healthy as ever.”
For years, one of his greatest insecurities had been the fear of not being able to keep up with you, of not being good enough, of getting tired before he could give you everything you needed. Now, however, every thrust, every movement, every time he holds you tight and makes your legs tremble, proves to him that he has nothing left to fear.
When you’re done, he carries you to the bedroom and lies on top of you, thrusting again until he’s completely filled inside you, spilling hot and abundant, until you feel his fluid slipping over the edges, swelling your insides. You lie there, breathless, your legs trembling and unable to close, while he gets up to fetch a towel and run you a hot bath.
But when he returns, the look he gives you—his chest still sweaty and his cheeks flushed from the effort—says it all. He drops the towel on the bed, leans over you again, the weight of his body pinning you beneath him.
“One more time, baby?” — he asks in that hoarse, hungry voice, his fingers sliding between your legs once more.
You look at him, your eyes glistening and your body already craving him again, and you smile at him:
— I don’t hear you saying no…
— Never — he replies immediately, kissing you deeply on the lips. — I’ll never get enough of you.
Even at night, there’s no respite. You once told him that if he needs to, he can take you even while you’re asleep, without waiting for you to be fully awake. And he does just that, gently but with determination. He takes the lube from the nightstand, mixes it with his saliva, and spreads your sleeping legs with two fingers, gently stretching you to prepare you, before pressing the tip of himself against you and entering slowly, until he fills you up again.
“So tight… so perfect…” he murmurs in the dark, as he moves you beneath him.
You wake up to his movements and wrap yourself around him, responding in a low voice:
“Keep going… take everything you want from me…”
“That’s what I do every night,” he replies, thrusting harder. “I can’t stop imagining you bent over everywhere—on the balcony, on the couch, on the table… with me inside you, filling you up until you’re all soiled.”
And so it is every night, every morning, every free moment: you make love like starving animals, without pause, without limits. Because for Leon, after staring death in the face, the only thing that matters is feeling you, possessing you, loving you in every possible way, until neither of you has any breath left. And even then, neither of you has any intention of stopping.
I don't wanna sound like mean or nuthin but a lot of y'all have been trapped in a vortex of suffering for so long that you've come to identify with the suffering as an aspect of your personality and ideology and thereby to covet suffering and to mistake debasement for enoblement and humiliation for virtue
this reminds me of two quotes which went something like "pain is inevitable, suffering is a choice" and "the key to fulfillment is not abundance, but the simple act of valuing appreciation more than lamentation". another one that I heard from my previous therapist that woke me tf up was "stop romanticising being your own sacrificial lamb" and tbh? yeah. the world WANTS you to suffer. fight back. you HAVE to choose being and Doing happy yk
Summary: Sex pollen galore, but listen: you and Leon both work at the DSO and you hate each other kicking my feet, giggling
Masterlist
Notes: Thank you guys so so much for 5- *checks notes* 600?! How did that happen so fast? I swear I started writing right away.
word count: 4.5k
Warnings: nsfw, sex pollen, non-con if you squint, age gap, younger reader, semi-public sex (sorry Sherry), oral m!receiving, bratty reader, slight daddy kink, orgasm denial at the verge of death, subby Leon?, Leon So much cum Kennedy receiving the blowjob of his life and seeing god holy shit what even is this
K was the eleventh letter of the alphabet. You knew because you had been counting down ever since you had started working with the DSO. K like Kennedy.
“Kennedy, you’re with the junior.” Of course. Every single time you got paired up with fucking Kennedy.
“The junior has a name,” you murmured, shaking your head, shooting a look at the senior agent.
He looked pissed. Like being teamed up with you was the worst thing that could have ever happened to him.
You had no idea what you had done to deserve this level of hatred but ever since you had walked through the doors of the DSO, it burned bright like a fire in him, apparently. He couldn’t even stand looking at you most days. Like now, grinding his teeth, avoiding your gaze at all costs.
You and me both, old man, you thought.
At first you had tried to be friendly with him. He was kind of your superior after all. Not directly, but all junior agents answered to the more experienced ones, especially if they were a founding member.
But lo and behold it became clear that he thought you were less than capable. At first you thought he was nothing but a misogynistic asshole. But then you realised he wasn’t like that with the other female agents. Only you. It seemed personal. Like he thought specifically you had no idea what you were doing, which pissed you off even more.
It hurt a little, if you were being honest. Leon Kennedy was well regarded by everyone. You wanted him to think highly of you, too.
And you weren't a rookie by any means. Actually you were the most competent agent in your field, but something about working on a mission with Agent Kennedy made you feel like you didn't even know how to do the basics. Probably because he never let you do anything on your own and was always there to take the load off your shoulders. As if you were a damsel in distress. You hated it.
It was dangerous as well. You were supposed to cover for him too. But he never let you. You had tried plenty of times.
The mission at hand was retrieving some biochemically altered plants from an underground Umbrella facility. Ones that were suspected to spread airborne pathogens, infecting whoever was unlucky enough to breathe them in.
“Let’s go then,” Kennedy growled, pushing out of his chair, already walking off to the armory without so much as looking at you. You involuntarily sank deeper into your seat. Something about Kennedy made you feel smaller than you actually were, younger too, less experienced. Incompetent.
You drew in a determined breath and followed him down the hallway.
This was the mission to change that. You were going to show him how capable you were, once and for all. And finally Leon Kennedy would tell you that you were doing a good job.
After a whole bunch of briefings because of the high risk of contamination on your mission, you and Kennedy were in the field, Sherry Birkin on your earpiece.
“Sherry, we're in the warehouse.” Kennedy murmured, walking in ahead of you as if you weren’t even there. Why didn‘t he just go on these missions alone? He was so shit with other people, and especially you.
Your determination to prove yourself to him had disappeared as soon as he had once again, come between you and your first target, eliminating it for you. It was an unarmed janitor. As if he could make it any more clear that he thought you had absolutely no idea what you were doing.
Kennedy didn't only walk in ahead of you, no. He held the door open for you as well, as if he suddenly remembered the liability he was constantly dragging around.
“I can open doors myself, you know,” you hissed.
“You’re slow. You need to keep up or you’ll get yourself killed.”
“If you didn't run ahead like that all the time, I wouldn’t have to.” You asshole, you wanted to add but you remembered he was your superior after all. Not your direct one, but still.
“Check the boxes,” Sherry said over your earpiece. “I need to know the serial number to find the one we’re looking for.”
You nodded, grabbing one of them immediately. Too slow, you were going to show him 'too slow'.
Kennedy did a double take. "Don't touch that."
“She said check the boxes. Do you need a hearing aid?“ you hissed, getting out your knife and slipping it under the lid.
“She said she needs the serial number,” he retorted, rushing to your side, his hands closing around yours, halting your movements. You ignored the way your heartbeat kicked up at his touch. Kennedy always made you nervous whenever he was near, that was nothing new.
“If you had listened during the briefings you would know that they printed false serial numbers on the outside to lead us astray,” you spat, struggling against him.
It was pointless. The man was pure muscle, his grip like a vice. But you tried anyway because you were full of rage. He wouldn’t let you do anything. Not even what you were being paid to do. Not even checking a god damn label.
Because of your little tussle with Kennedy your knife got wedged deeper into the box than you intended.
“Let go,” you hissed through gritted teeth.
“You let go, junior,” Kennedy growled in return.
“Whatever you do,” Sherry’s voice sounded over your earpiece. “Do not puncture the—”
Kennedy pushed down on your wrist too hard and you yowled, your hand slipping off the hilt. “You’re breaking my wrist, asshole.”
Without you to counter his movement, Kennedy pried the lid open in one swift motion, a cloud of greenish yellow pollen erupting from the box, coating his entire face. He squeezed his eyes shut.
“—plastic inside. As far as we know, they’re probably trying to contain some sort of highly infectious microspores.”
Under all the pollen you still saw a muscle tick in Kennedy’s jaw. He wiped the dust off his face. “I said don‘t touch it.”
"Sorry," you stammered, cheeks hot, realising you had called a senior agent an asshole to his face. You wanted to disappear off the face of the earth.
Kennedy sneezed. “Sherry, what if we did? And got the plant shit all over our face?” He sneezed again.
“Wash it off with water immediately and check inside the box for the serial number. I‘ll try and find out what it is,” she replied. “But be careful not to get any more of that stuff on you.”
Leon sneezed a third time and fumbled for his canteen, unscrewing the top and dousing himself with water. He shook his head like a dog, droplets flying everywhere.
“I seriously hope for you this isn’t poisonous,” he hissed, taking a sip of water for good measure.
You held up a hand. “If you had just let me do what I needed to do, you wouldn’t be covered in chemically fucked up plant right now,” you snapped, slipping on a pair of gloves and lifting the front of your compression shirt over your nose and mouth, before approaching the box. You had enough of him babysitting you. This was ridiculous.
“Excuse me, what?” He whipped around. “I’m a senior agent, you should listen to me and not think you know better all the time. Look where that got us both.”
You carefully lifted the lid, dodging another whiff of pollen escaping, scanning the plastic inside for the serial number.
He blamed you for this. If you ever had a chance of Kennedy respecting you, there it went. And with his standing in the DSO, you would never be able to get a foot on the ground in the organisation. You’d better update your CV asap. They would absolutely sack you for this.
You closed the lid as soon as you found it, sealing it shut with duct tape to be safe. “Sherry, the serial number is AV-4/B.” You slipped off your gloves and tossed them to the side.
“Alright,” she said. “Are you both contaminated or just Leon?”
“Just Agent Kennedy,” you replied. You would also call him Leon like every other person in the DSO but he insisted on keeping you on a last name basis. So you never dared.
“I’m fine, Sherry,” Kennedy cut in, splashing some more water on his face and rubbing it onto the back of his neck too. You didn’t miss the way he propped himself up against the wall with his hands. “Besides, we have to keep going.”
“Leon, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Sherry said. “We have no idea what this might do to you. It’s too dangerous.”
Agent Kennedy was breathing heavily and you looked him up and down. He didn’t seem changed, but you agreed with Sherry. You stepped closer to him, feeling his forehead.
He flinched like the touch pained him. “Don’t touch me.”
“Holy shit,” you breathed. “Sherry, he’s burning up.”
“Get him somewhere you’re both safe. I’ll try and figure out what he was infected with.”
Kennedy shook his head, little droplets still slipping from his hair.
“You heard her,” you said, grabbing his shoulder, but he shrugged you off.
“I said don’t touch me, junior” he hissed.
You scanned your surroundings for a safe place where you could hunker down until you got the all-clear from your dispatcher.
“In here,” you said, opening the door to the nearest shipping container, trying to push Agent Kennedy inside.
He whimpered at your touch. The invincible agent Kennedy whimpered. This was bad.
“Oh shit,” you hissed, barring the door from the inside.
“No, no, no,” Leon protested. “Don’t lock yourself in here with me.”
You huffed. “Shut up, Leon.” Another inappropriate way of speaking to a senior agent, and first name basis as well. But you were done for anyway. “I’m not a damsel in distress, I know what I’m doing.”
He winced, lowering himself down to sit against the wall. “I never said you didn’t.”
You whipped around to face him. “You didn’t have to, you’re always on my ass, no matter what I do.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, ridding himself of his weapons and harness, tossing them to the side. “Can you blame me? It's a good ass.”
You did a double take. Kennedy was seriously unwell. He coughed, clearly trying to cover up what he had just said.
You crouched down beside him and he flinched again.
“Don’t come so close,” he panted. “I can smell you.”
“What do you mean, you can smell me? I don’t stink, I showered before we went out on this mission,” you said, offended.
Leon’s brow knitted together in helplessness and he leaned his head against the wall. “I’m serious, back off.”
“No way,” you insisted, fumbling for the canteen on your belt, screwing the top off and offering it to him.
He eagerly grabbed it, drinking the water inside, some of it spilling down his prominent Adam's apple as he did.
Despite him being old enough to be your father—and an absolute asshole to be around—you couldn’t deny that Leon Kennedy was an exceptionally handsome man. Hot even.
Right now, literally. He was sweating so much, wet patches had formed all the way down the back of his tactical shirt.
“Take it off,” you ordered, as you began to unlace his boots.
He shook his head, lips pressed together, like he was fighting something invisible inside his own body.
You slipped off both his boots, tossing them to the side, grabbing where his shirt was tucked into his tactical pants. “I said, take it off, Leon. Don’t be so stubborn.”
He struggled against you, trying to get a hold of your hands, but you managed to pull his shirt out of his pants at least, grazing his crotch when he tried to stop you.
“Holy shit,” you breathed.
You had just touched your superior's dick.
Not your direct superior, but that didn’t matter. Because you also hadn’t touched his flaccid dick. No, no. Leon Kennedy was rock hard beneath those tactical pants.
“I’m sorry,” he whined, squirming, desperately trying to get comfortable.
You stared at him. “So when you said you could smell me you meant—”
“Don’t say it,” he pleaded, swallowing hard, his throat bobbing. He looked like he was in agony.
“My vagina,” you concluded.
Leon bit back a moan and you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “It’s the plant,” he whispered.
“So it’s what? Some kind of super potent viagra?” you said, still tugging at his shirt.
“Stop, what are you doing?” He tried to push away your hand but as soon as your skin touched his, a groan slipped past his lips and he clasped his hands behind his back.
“Leon, I know you’re incapable of listening to me in any situation, but this is serious. You’re burning up and I don’t care that you have a boner right now,” you hissed. “You were infected with some kind of chemically altered shit. Take your fucking shirt off.”
He finally caved, letting you slip his shirt over his head. You drew in a sharp breath. Leon Kennedy shirtless was a sight to see. Taut skin stretching over chiselled abs, beefy pectorals, perfect for propping yourself up on while you were riding him.
You touched your chest, feeling for your heartbeat and breathing. Were you contaminated too?
Oh. No, you were just horny for a man old enough to be your father.
Leon’s nose crinkled and he turned his head away from you. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?” you asked.
“Getting wet, I can smell it.”
You rubbed your forehead. This was going to make for one awkward as hell debrief. “I hope we don’t have to write a report on this,” you murmured and pressed your earpiece, calling for Sherry. No one answered.
You took out your knife and cut off a piece of your shirt, exposing a sliver of your belly.
“What are you doing?” Leon rasped.
“Relax,” you shushed him, folding the fabric carefully and wetting it with water from your canteen. You scooted closer to Leon, dabbing his forehead with your makeshift cloth. His eyes fluttered shut. "I hate to break it to you, but you're in no state right now. You're going to have to let me take over."
“You hate me,” he huffed.
“You hated me first,” you countered, flipping the cloth over so the new, cool side was pressed against his forehead.
“I don’t though,” he rasped. “I think you’re one of the best agents we have.”
You shook your head. “You’re delirious. We’ll talk about that when you’re less animalistic.”
He chuckled and you joined in.
A hand shot forward, grabbing your wrist. “Stop that.”
“What?”
“Laughing. Smiling, everything.” He writhed, palming his cock with his other hand, desperately trying to get comfortable.
Your breath hitched in your throat. It was the plant, you reminded yourself. This wasn’t really him.
“Anytime you laugh in a meeting it’s torture for me,” he whispered.
“Is that why you never talk to me?” you breathed, continuing to dab his forehead, the fact that his hand was still clamped around your wrist not escaping you.
He gave a shy nod.
“So when you say you don’t hate me…” you went on.
“The second you set foot in the DSO headquarters I knew you were going to be my downfall,” he rasped.
You paused, watching the way he was leaning into your touch involuntarily, like he couldn’t help himself. “Did you request to be partnered up with me? Is that why I’m on missions with you every single time?”
He nodded again and you leaned closer to him. “I needed to ensure your safety myself. I don’t trust anyone else with it.”
You bit back another comment about how you didn’t need anyone to take care of you. You had a feeling your capacity of knocking a grown man out cold had nothing to do with his instinct to protect you.
“Leon, if this is some kind of enhanced viagra, I can help you.”
He shook his head, his jaw working. “I would never ask that of you.”
“I’m offering. And in a way this is … necessary,” you whispered. “But if you’d rather do it yourself, I can look the other way and make sure you’re okay while you do it.”
"Fuck no, that’s way worse," he grunted, a rosy blush creeping up on his cheeks. "I'm not gonna let you watch me jack off."
“Alright, it’s settled then,” you said, hands moving down to the buttons of his tactical pants, undoing them one by one. Your mouth watered with anticipation.
You would be lying if you said you had never imagined what Leon S. Kennedy looked like naked. Or what he would be like in bed. Matter of fact, the second you had seen him, walking into the DSO on your very first day you thought he was the most attractive man you had ever set eyes on. The fact that he was so much older, making it all the more forbidden and enticing.
Leon’s hand shot forward again in an attempt to keep your hands from doing what they were doing. “Don’t. This is so unprofessional,” he pleaded and you felt him twitch beneath your palm. He was hanging by a thread.
You sighed. “Yes, it is. Very much so. But do you not want me to?”
He bit his lower lip and his restraint finally snapped. His hands fell down to his sides and he let himself sink lower against the wall, giving in.
Your hands became shaky when you pushed his pants off his hips. What would this be like at the office?
Avoiding each other at all costs? Not looking when the other person spoke? So business as usual.
His cock sprang free and you gasped. It was the most beautiful cock you had ever seen: thick, long and just as veiny as Leon's forearms.
"Oh fuck," you breathed. How was he the one under the spell of those damn plants when you could feel yourself grow wetter by the second?
Leon whimpered again, covering his eyes with his arm. Right. Heightened sense of smell.
You closed your hand around his base, squeezing him. That was already enough to draw a breathy moan out of him.
The great Leon S. Kennedy. Putty in your hands.
You gently spread the pre-cum that had gathered on the tip with your thumb, giving him a tentative pump.
“Oh fuck,” Leon groaned. “I’m so sensitive. It’s not usually like that.”
A grin tugged at your lips. Was he now? No time like the present to take a little revenge for all those times he had made you feel like a child during your missions. It was too easy.
You leaned down, gently running your full lips along the underside of his cock, as you slowly pumped him, gripping him tightly.
His breath hitched and his head shot up, staring at you with half-lidded eyes, brows drawn together. “You don’t have to do that, you can just ah—”
You shut him up with an open mouthed kiss to the tip of his cock and a hand slipped into your hair.
“I always exceed expectations, Agent Kennedy,” you whispered, breath fanning over his most sensitive body part. “If you ever let me do what I’m being paid to do on our missions, you would know that already.”
Leon whimpered and you licked up his entire length in one broad stroke. His hips bucked and the grip on your scalp tightened.
“Please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be,” he whined and you chuckled, looking up at him.
“Oh, I will make it harder,” you promised, closing your lips around his tip, hollowing your cheeks.
Leon growled, drawing in a sharp breath.
You hummed in response, swirling your tongue around his tip, continuing to work him with your hand, as you french-kissed his cock.
“Oh fuck, that feels so good,” Leon breathed, his cock twitching in your mouth. You released him with a lewd popping sound, looking at him with lustful eyes.
He stared at you, mesmerised, his other hand coming down to cup your cheek, running his thumb over your lower lip, all wet and glistening with your saliva and his pre-cum.
You grinned. “Do you want it sloppy or neat?”
He chuckled, dipping his thumb into your mouth for you to suck on. “Has anyone ever said neat?”
You shook your head. “Never happened.”
Leon grabbed a fistful of your hair and pushed you back down on his cock, thrusting his hips up. You eagerly took him deeper into your mouth, saliva running down the sides, gathering at the base of his cock.
“Fuck yes, just like that,” he groaned, hitting the back of your throat. You gagged, but that only meant more saliva to lubricate for a softer glide.
“I’ve been thinking about this in meetings all the fucking time,” he confessed, moaning loudly. “That’s why I couldn’t look at you. Because I kept thinking about what you’d look like choking on my cock.”
A moan racked through you at his confession, sending vibrations through his entire body, making him draw in a sharp breath. You came back up to catch your breath.
“What else were you thinking about?” you asked, puffy lips spreading your saliva all over his length. “Because when I first saw you, I thought about how I wanted you to bend me over your desk and fuck me.”
Leon groaned. “Don’t say that. I’m old enough to be your father.”
You shot him a fiendish grin. “Daddy.”
You sank down on him again.
“Holy shit,” Leon panted, squirming underneath you, cock twitching. You swallowed around him, raking your fingernails over his abs.
“I’m gonna cum,” he moaned, his breathing coming ragged, his fingers in your hair tightening, pulling at it ever so slightly.
Tongue pressed to the underside of his cock, you moved up, sucking him into a vacuum for the grand finale, spit leaking past your lips.
"Oh fuck, just like that." He gritted his teeth, moments from losing it. "Don't st—"
You pulled your mouth off him.
Leon's eyes flew open and he let out most pathetic sound you had ever heard. His hips bucked, cock thrusting up at—nothing.
You chuckled. "You didn't think I'd let you cum that easily, did you?"
He whimpered, brows knitting together. "What are you doing?"
You shook your head. "This whole time, you make me feel like I'm a good for nothing rookie and now you think I'm just gonna suck you off like nothing happened?"
He swallowed, trying to catch his breath. "This is serious, I could die from this."
A smirk tugged at your lips. This was too good.
You shrugged. "See, if I were in your situation, I would ask nicely."
"Junior..."
You clicked your tongue, scoldingly wagging your finger in front of his face.
He let out a laboured breath, fists clenching at his sides. Oh, he hated this. For a moment, you almost backed down.
But you were going to have to look for a new job anyway, so fuck it.
"Say 'please'," you purred, sticking out your tongue, almost close enough to reach, close enough to run over his length, tracing every vein.
"This is very unprofessional," he whined, eyes never leaving you. "We are supposed to work together to ensure mission success."
You raised an eyebrow at him. "Unprofessional? Leon, you have your dick in my face." You licked his tip and he let out another broken moan. He was at the very edge of sanity. "Besides, I feel like it's not me who needs a lesson in cooperating with my assigned mission partner."
He thrust his hips upward again, desperately pushing himself against your face. You leaned back.
"Say it." You leaned in closer, watching his muscles ripple underneath his skin, a sheen glint of sweat coating his entire chest. "Fucking beg for it, Leon."
"Please, okay? Please make me cum, I'm fucking begging you, I can't take this anymore," Leon whined. "Please let me cum in your mouth."
You closed your lips around him, making eye contact as you did. Leon looked like he was about to die. Because of the plant or because of you was hard to tell.
Hollowing your cheeks, you picked up right where you had left off, sucking, licking, lapping up every bit of precum and restraint he had left in him. Every single muscle in his body was taut like a bowstring, ready to snap at any moment.
His lips fell open and he let out a strangled moan, cock twitching inside your mouth. Your hand moved down to cup his balls, tight and ready to release all he had into you and you pushed down on his length, swallowing around him.
He cried out, grabbing the back of your head and pushed himself impossibly deeper into your throat, making your eyes water.
"Oh fuck," he panted and you tried to relax your throat, failing, gagging on his cock.
Leon came with a moan loud enough to echo through the entire shipping container and you desperately tried to come back up for air, thick ropes of white coating your tongue, some of it spilling out the corners of your mouth.
This was sloppy as hell. Cum dripped all over his tactical pants and down your chin as you kept sucking him through his orgasm.
“Fuck, you look so beautiful like that,” Leon breathed, cock twitching, giving you one last bit of cum to lap up. Your eyes fluttered shut at the salty taste. Why did he taste so good?
Despite the state of you, you licked him clean and pressed a parting kiss to his now softened tip. You sat up, both your breaths coming out ragged. Cum trickled down the collar of your compression shirt and tears were beginning to dry on your cheeks.
Oh, this debrief was going to be hell for everyone involved.
Leon’s chest was heaving, as he came down from his high and—his infection.
"I don't know what to say," he panted, staring straight ahead.
"Me neither," you replied, shyly backing away, sinking down against the wall next to him, wiping your mouth and chin with your sleeve. Fuck it. This was a whole mess anyway. And you weren't talking about the shirt.
“I..." Leon started, pausing. "Good job, agent."
You chuckled dryly. What the hell were you thinking? Playing with him like that in a life or death situation? This was bad. What had gotten into you? You could drag your ass straight to HR after this, cum stained shirt and everything.
"I feel like I owe you dinner,” Leon murmured, wrinkling his forehead.
Your eyebrows shot up. “Thanks, but I just ate,” you whispered, mechanically.
You and Kennedy looked at each other from the corner of your eyes, waiting for each other's reaction.
“Agents? Agents are you there?” Sherry’s voice over your earpieces made you both jump. Leon frantically pulled up his pants. “Leon? Are you okay?”
“Sherry,” you rasped. “Please tell me you didn’t hear any of that.”
“Nobody heard a thing,” she replied, voice a little shaky.
Leon grabbed his earpiece. “What do you mean nobody? Sherry, who else is there?”
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