Leon Kennedy Simp

23 they/them MDNI

[altforleon]

I’m gonna start writing for Re9 Leon, send me requests if you want and I’ll try my best

Rules:

No pregnancy/kid fics

No Incest/Rape/anything illegal (exceptions made for Leon saving us from potential danger but that will always be pretty vague)

No self harm/suicidal ideation.

NSFW or SFW allowed, but I can only comfortably write for afab or truly neutral reader. I use they/them pronouns when writing.

No homophobia/transphobia/racism will be tolerated. Remember to be kind!

[cametoile]

muse [scene i] ☆ leon s. kennedy

✮ synopsis: leon's a very patient man. he lets you have your fun teasing him, but he knows where you'll be by the end of the night. he's confident in a way that goes without saying, and it doesn't take him long before he's got you wrapped around his thumb.

✮ warnings: fem. reader, heavy objectification, use of pet names, power dynamics/pwr. struggle, manhandling, hair pulling, language, explicit content, dirty talk, m. masturbation + facial, dumbification, pwp

✮ word count: 7k

truth be told, leon wasn't bothered by your sly little comments that were meant to rouse his temper. no, he was perfectly fine with you running your pretty little mouth, a few old mans here and there never bothered him much. he'd let you have your fun, give him that shit-eating little grin and teasing eye roll that never failed to make his mouth twitch up in a smile.

leon's quite patient and he humors you more than he probably should, but beneath his calm and composed exterior lies a man who's very aware of himself. perhaps when he was younger he might've felt a little dejected and maybe even taken comments like that to heart, but now that he's older— and more experienced (in more ways than one) he'd half a mind to start cracking jokes with you.

as much as leon loves to see how amused you seem to be teasing him like this, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't waiting to wipe that smug little grin off your face. luckily for you, leon's a good sport and doesn't take any of what you say to heart, mainly because he knows where you'll be by the end of the night.

leon isn't particularly cocky, but he's certainly not oblivious. he knows your true objective isn't to make him feel bad, but it's also not to tease him, either— no, he knows what you really want. leon sees that little sparkle in your eyes whenever he scoffs or groans at your teasing comments, or the way you smirk before pondering what to say next. your calculated, premeditative train of thought is something he is no stranger to, but he'll humor you— for now.

and so, he'll intentionally let those little comments accumulate right up until he decides he's had enough of you and your chatting.

"hey leon, don'cha think you should go see a chiropractor? your posture is... well," you chirp, eyes glazing over his figure sitting hunched over at the dining table, practically devouring the food you'd prepared for him after a long day of monotonous paper filing at the dso. leon has to hold back a snort at that, his mouth twitching up at the corners as he cuts the last bit of chicken breast into a bite-sized piece.

leon gulps down the small piece he'd been chewing, humming in satisfaction at the rather delicious meal you'd provided for him. it's a pity you couldn't hold your tongue while he enthusiastically cleaned his plate. at the very least you were entertaining him, so it's not as annoying as you hoped it'd be. "chicken's good," he says plainly, setting his knife and fork down atop the now clean plate before pushing up from the table. he stands with a low grunt, bones popping as he rolls his shoulders back slightly, making his way over to the sink to clean his dish. well damn, maybe he did need to see a chiro...

you pout slightly at his disregard for your earlier comment, eyes narrowing slightly as he walks past you to clean his dish. you scoff to yourself, hands crossing against your chest in disbelief. is he really ignoring you...? you shake your head in denial before turning on your heel, watching how his muscles flex as he rinses his plate. before you can even attempt to force out a retort, leon’s deep voice is already rumbling through your ears.

"what were you saying?" he starts, clearing his throat as he begins lathering soap in his hands. you raise a brow at his back in question, rolling your eyes in defiance at his flippant tone.

"are you that hard of hearing?" you replied sarcastically, a scoff escaping you as you lean your hip against the table behind you. you chuckle quietly, lips curling up into a smirk when he pauses his movements. leon exhales softly, resuming his actions as he realizes this will be yet another night of you playing with him. usually leon could handle your snide little comments and playful teasing, but he’d had a long fucking day in the office. despite this, leon is still a very patient, merciful man. he’ll give you the chance to stop while you’re ahead.

leon turns the faucet off slowly, twisting the handle with ease and reaching for the dish towel to dry his hands. he’s still for a moment, simply holding the towel in his hands before neatly folding it and setting it down. it’s a little eery just how composed he is; you almost feel nervous. leon was always very calm under pressure—not that you were much pressure to him, but you certainly knew how to push him. you bite your lip, tension filling the air around you with each passing second.

when leon finally turns to you, his gaze feels borderline oppressive. he’s not reactive, but his piercing blue eyes hold such a powerful weight that it’s like he’s already got you pinned in place. leon’s not a man of many words. he prefers to assert himself through his actions, and it’s surprising just how little he has to do to have you complacent for him. despite this, he knows it’s not that easy with you. it usually never is, but he certainly doesn’t mind it.

"no, i heard you," he starts softly, almost endearing, mirroring your stance and leaning against the counter with his arms loosely crossed over his chest as he watched you. "but i'll give you a chance to correct yourself." he warns, tilting his head slightly as he waits for your response. of course, leon knows you won't behave, he's already got you figured out. but what kind of partner would he be if he didn't at least offer you a chance at redemption?

like clockwork, you let out a tiny scoff at his peace offering, rolling your eyes so hard you're almost scared they might get stuck like that. leon raises a brow at you, adjusting himself on the counter while monitoring your every move.

"correct myself?" you repeat, your tone amused, almost in disbelief that he'd ask you such a question. leon's lips curve into a smirk, the kind of smirk that exudes confidence and promises consequences. he's actually quite glad you choose the hard way out every time, it was always satisfying to watch it all crumble down once he gets you to stop running that mouth of yours.

"need me to spell it out for you?" he says firmly, jaw tightening slightly as he observes the cocky smirk that graces your pretty features. he tilts his head slightly, biceps bulging deliciously against his chest where they're crossed. of course you're enjoying this, of course you want him to spell it out for you. leon's a patient man, but he's more than willing to dish out consequences for someone like you who insists on pushing his limits.

"dunno," you drawl, dragging the word out with that same teasing, amused lilt, "maybe you do," you tease, a quiet giggle escaping from your throat as you stare him down, biting your lip in anticipation when you see him exhale slowly. god, did you love riling him up. it did something sinful to you to see him go from composed to bothered by you.

unbeknowst to you, however, leon's not too keen on giving you that satisfaction; he'll do what he has to to keep you in order, but he'll stay just as composed as he was prior to all this.

"you’re a fuckin’ brat." he grits out, uncrossing his arms slowly to make his way over to you. you watch as he walks over with controlled, practiced steps, your eyes shamelessly raking over his broad form. you trail them down slowly, taking your time as he nears closer, scanning over the obvious bulge in his tactical pants, the strain of his too-shirt against his beefy biceps, and finally flitting back up to meet his intense gaze.

he's close, almost too close, hands on either side of the kitchen table as he towers over your frame. it's almost intimidating how big he is, how easy it is for him to overpower you, and perhaps that's what makes this game of cat and mouse all the more fun. your breath hitches with the way he's staring at you, his icy eyes tracking every one of your actions like you were his prey.

"say another word." he dares, getting in your face, leaning in as close as he could. you let out a shaky breath, a tiny smile pulling at your lips as you stare into his eyes with a hint of mischief present in their midst.

"another word," you challenge, raising a brow and pursing your lips teasingly while batting your lashes enticingly at him. he nods sardonically, almost pleased at your decision, a small smile tugging at his lips as he lets out a breathy chuckle. he moves down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, humming lowly as he inhales sharply, sending a shiver up your spine.

his head dips lower, lips ghosting over your neck as he presses more tiny, open-mouth kisses to the heated skin. you squeal a little bit, the sensation slightly tickling the skin of your neck as your hands slowly reach to grip the table behind you. something about leon's calmness was deeply unsettling, like he was a stick of dynamite that had just been lit and was slowly inching closer to exploding. you breathe out raggedly, heart thumping wildly in your chest as he pulls back to meet your gaze once more.

"mm. good one, baby," he starts, voice deceptively soft, almost affectionate. his hand comes up slowly, knuckles grazing the soft skin of your cheeks as he stares into your eyes like he's already got your fate mapped out for tonight. "but you should've held your tongue." he finishes, voice dropping into that low, gravelly register that always sends heat straight through you.

in an instant, leon's pushing you to the side, hand on your chest shoving you down on the floor. you stumble slightly, hand reaching out to steady yourself as his hands roughly grab ahold of your shoulders before adjusting you to his liking. it rips a surprised yelp from you, leaving you scrambling for a bit before you gather your bearings. despite the struggle, he finally has you on your knees before him, a steady hand on your shoulder as he stares down at you. you stare back defiantly, eyes shooting daggers at him for handling you so roughly. before you can even fix your lips to spit out another sassy remark, leon is quick to quiet you.

his large hand fists in your hair, pulling your head back roughly so that you have no choice but to fucking listen to him. he tuts, shaking his head at your insistent need to defy him, his eyes piercing into your wide ones below him. "shhh, let's be smart here, baby. you're a smart girl, aren't you?" he asks, his voice tender, almost affectionate, but you know deep down he means the exact opposite. your brows pull together, mouth wide in shock just from how quickly the tables turned on you. literally. you blink dumbly, eyes glossy from the hold he has on your hair.

his grip on your hair tightens at your silence, making you wince at the strain on your scalp. you whimper slightly, nodding in his grasp as best you could. he hums, hand leaving your hair in favor of grasping your jaw, rubbing soft circles into the heated skin. he doesn't bother asking for a verbal response, he already knows you're so fucked out for him that the only thing he needs you to focus on right now is shutting the hell up.

you're still dumbfounded, eyes hazy as you stare up at him in awe, lips parted and chest heaving at his change in demeanor. leon's thumb travels, the digit dragging across your bottom lip before slipping inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. you quickly obey him, wrapping your lips around the digit, eyes never leaving his as you suckle his thumb into your mouth.

leon’s gaze burns down at you, his gaze intimidatingly tender, the blue of his eyes almost completely swallowed by his dark pupils.

"'s a shame the only time you're quiet is when i put you on your fuckin' knees," he murmurs, voice thick with lust. he lets you keep sucking for a few more seconds, thumb pressing down on your tongue, before he finally pulls it free with a wet pop.

your breathing comes out a little more ragged, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you wait eagerly for his next move. leon just stares down at you, analyzing every little movement and micro expression on your face before he finally concludes that you love this. you're practically shaking with anticipation, you're giddy like your efforts have finally paid off from all those snide comments and teasing little smirks, and he finds it utterly infuriating. no, he won't give you what you want this easily, not without making you suffer a little bit.

"i see what's going on here," he starts, tilting his head as he observes you beneath him. your brows furrow, a small pout making its way onto your lips at his sudden change. it was starting to make you a little frustrated with how hot and cold he was being. "you're not nearly as smart as you think you are, baby," he declares, hands moving to unbuckle his belt. his eyes never leave yours, although yours are now transfixed on the way his deft hands easily guide the belt out of the loop.

your eyes trail back up to his, his piercing orbs already staring you down as he unbuttons his pants. "leon..." you murmur quietly, needy eyes silently pleading for him to get a move on. you shift impatiently on your heels, letting out a few exasperated breaths every now and then with how slow he was moving things along.

leon grunts in annoyance, hand reaching out to grasp your cheeks before leaning down to your level to whisper harshly, "behave." he commands, squishing your cheeks in his grip before giving you a long, stern glare that almost dares you to disobey him. you still, gulping slightly at how fucking intimidating he is. he's incredibly calm, too calm, but his movements are sharp and rough— a dizzying contrast that nearly gives you whiplash from how confusing it all is.

he huffs, hand leaving your jaw before rising to his feet once more. his hands return to the task at hand, finally shoving his pants down his thighs along with his boxers. his cock springs free, heavy and flushed dark at the tip, and your mouth actually waters at the sight. you instinctively reach for him, hand just short of gripping the base before leon grips your wrist tightly. you pause, eyes flitting up to his in confusion.

"uh-uh." he tsks, voice low and disapproving, pushing your hand back down to your side. "you don't get to touch. you lost that privilege right when you opened that pretty little mouth." he says, his own hand gripping his cock at the base before giving it a slow upward stroke. he exhales lowly, squeezing himself once his hand strokes over the sensitive part just below his aching tip. his hips buck slightly, hand twisting around his cock as he passes over the sticky head, smearing the precum that had collected there all over his shaft.

he groans shamelessly, eyes flitting back to yours that only stare up at him in utter disbelief of the situation right now. you look painfully needy, eyebrows threaded together and mouth deeply frowned from his complete disregard of you. your eyes are glassy as they stare into his, hands gripping the bottom of your shirt tightly in your grip as you try to calm yourself. his eyes light up briefly, a breathy chuckle leaving him as a new idea crosses his mind.

"leon—" you start, biting your lip in frustration when he interrupts you.

"i don't wanna hear it, sweetheart," he interrupts, voice dropping into that dangerous register that makes your stomach flip. "had your chance, didn't you?" he grips your jaw, thumb pressing against your lower lip, spreading your mouth open for him. he holds you like that, inspecting you, while his other hand gives a slow, deliberate stroke from base to tip. he groans lowly, gripping himself tighter as filthy, depraved thoughts begin to cloud his mind. god, he can't wait to see you crying for him.

"fuck... pretty thing," he says, tilting your head in his grip, eyes raking over your fucked-out face as he languidly strokes himself to you. leon doesn't rush, he takes his time savoring your pretty face, eyes traveling down your body as his grip tightens around his cock. his breathing stays even and controlled as he works himself with unhurried strokes.

he's studying you— examining you like you're an exhibit, like a work of art curated solely for his enjoyment. his thumb drags along your lower lip, dipping inside your mouth and pressing down on your tongue. you tried to suck his thumb again, but he just pulls it back out to smear your spit over your lips, watching the way it shines under the light.

your breath hitches at how dirty the situation feels, how he's using you as an object of his pleasure, like a muse to fulfill his own filthy desires. you almost feel like you should feel offended, but you can't help the way your cunt clenches at how little he cares for your pleasure right now. it's borderline sadistic, enjoying the way he ogles you so shamelessly, inspecting you like you're his personal form of pornography.

"why don't you pull that shirt up for me, baby?" he coaxes, voice soft yet firm, the question more a command than a request. he works himself a little faster now, thumb brushing over the slit of his leaking tip, moaning deeply at the sensation.

you hesitate, hands trembling at your sides, and he slows his strokes just enough to make you feel like you weren't doing it for him, humiliating you in a way that has you regretting every decision you'd made that led up to this. you hate that you want to please him, to be the object of his desire, but you quite literally have no choice but to do as he says. he's got you cornered, you'll admit it. even if you don't get anything out of it, you'll be equally as satisfied knowing leon used you as a visual for his own pleasure.

"leon, i— can we—" you try, nervously twiddling your fingers as you begin to feel a little embarrassed at his shamelessness. he's quick to shut you down, further breaking down your defenses as his deep, gravelly voice cuts through your small, shaky one.

"uh-uh, be quiet. come on, sweetheart," he murmurs, gentle and consistently patient despite your pushback. "let's see those tits," he commands casually, like he's simply asking you to do the most mundane task in the world. his thumb strokes your cheek, tender, doting— a stark contrast to how clipped his tone is with you. you know he's not asking, he's telling, almost daring you to defy him lest you drag this out any longer.

you gulp thickly, hands finally moving to raise your shirt up slowly, staring into his eyes that watch every movement of yours meticulously. he raises a brow when you pause, giving you a knowing glare that practically forces you to continue. with that, you finally pull your shirt up and over your chest, your tits bouncing softly when they're exposed from the thin material of your shirt.

leon's eyes immediately flicker down, his grip on your jaw loosening slightly while his hand closes around his cock tighter. he strokes your cheek softly, groaning deep in his throat when your nipples pebble from the cool air in the kitchen.

"fuck, that's better," he hums in approval, resuming his previous steady pace, his eyes drinking you in with something like wonder. "look at these tits..." he groans, eyes raking over your chest shamelessly as he tugs on his cock. his eyes flicker back up to your face, that same needy expression present on your features along with something that almost looks like... embarrassment? leon's cock twitches slightly in his grip, thumb working its way back to the corner of your mouth as he begins to stroke himself faster.

"my pretty thing," he sighs, voice warm despite the way he was so clearly talking down to you, "always did know how to make yourself useful when you want to," he hums, now steadily stroking his cock and twisting his wrist with every downstroke. his thumb returns to your mouth yet again, dipping inside and coaxing you to suck once more.

you oblige, humming around the digit as you swirl your tongue obscenely. leon groans deep in his chest, forcing his finger further into your mouth, making you gag slightly. he tsks lowly, pulling his thumb from your mouth once more. this time, leon’s gaze falls back to your chest where you’re still obediently holding your shirt up for him.

"fuck... just take it off, won't you, baby?" he asks sweetly, eyes fixated on your pretty tits that rise and fall with every short breath you take. you nod slowly, fingers trembling just a little as you tug the shirt the rest of the way up and off, letting it drop somewhere behind you on the kitchen floor.

the cool air kisses your top half, making your nipples tighten even more under his heavy gaze. leon’s eyes darken, pupils blown wide as he drinks in the sight of you bare from the waist up, kneeling obediently at his feet. your hands settle on the outside on your thighs, fingernails digging crescents into the soft skin as you stare up at him pleadingly.

"pretty fuckin' picture," he sucks in a breath at the sight, trailing his hand down to your left nipple that’s practically begging to be pinched. with the thumb that was previously in your mouth, he rubs small circles over your areola, the wetness of your own saliva coating the bud. you gasp sharply, the stimulation sending sparks straight to your core.

"god, sweetheart, if you could see yourself right now. shit, you're cute." he groans, continuing his ministrations on the sensitive flesh, smearing your spit across your nipple until the bud stiffens to a sharp peak beneath the wet pad of his finger. he tugs on the sensitive bud firmly, trapping it between his thumb and forefinger while pinching softly.

your back arches instinctively, pushing your chest closer to his hand like you can’t help it, and that only makes his cock twitch hard in his fist. you mewl, eyebrows threading together in pleasure from the electric feeling of his hands on your skin. you feel so pathetic under him, squirming from something as little as this.

you shift on your heels, the floor cold and unforgiving against your poor kneecaps, and the ghost of leon's thumb circling your nipple has you whimpering before you can stop yourself. your eyes flutter shut for a bit, trying to ground yourself despite how unforgiving he's toying with you right now. he tsks quietly, shaking his head in disappointment.

"eyes on me, baby," he commands softly. you open your eyes, your gaze settling back to his face. your lips part on a shaky exhale, and he coos at you softly when you obey him, finger still working your nipple slowly. suddenly, his thumb pinches your nipple harshly and you yelp, hips jerking forward involuntarily at the pleasurable, yet painful sensation.

"mmh-mh." he clicks his tongue, shaking his head at you in disapproval. "stay still for me." he finishes, soothing your bud with slow, languid strokes that only make the situation worse. you were nearly about to cry, you were so frustrated. you feel your slick soaking through your panties, the wet heat of it almost unbearable, and you'd give anything— literally, anything— to just touch him. you don't even care about your own pleasure anymore, all that was on your mind was leon and his cock. just as he had planned.

"leon, please—" you beg, eyes watering and bottom lip quivering slightly at his dismissal of your pleas. he tuts, stilling his movements for a brief second.

"what'd i say about you runnin' that mouth?" his hand abandons your breast to grip your chin again, tilting your face up at a sharper angle so you have no choice but to watch him. his other hand resumes its movements, slick sounds filling the quiet kitchen obscenely as you gaze up at him, eyes watery. "you just sit there and look pretty. that's all you gotta do. can you do that for me, sweetheart?" he asks, waiting for your pretty lips to form a response for him, if you even can. you feel so helpless, so small under him that all you can do is sigh in frustration.

you bite the inside of your cheek, hands clammy and panties uncomfortably wet, but you nod anyways despite the growing agitation in your veins. god only knows how long he'd drag this out if you dared to talk back to him now. he hums his approval, thumb stroking along your jaw like he's comforting a kicked puppy.

it feels as if you're just an object now—a little plaything for his pleasure, something whose sole purpose is to just get him off while you sit there and take it. despite your frustration, you couldn't deny how much it was turning you on, but you hate how much you're enjoying it— the way he shamelessly ogles you for his viewing pleasure, tilting your head as if he were inspecting a rare artifact. annoyed as you are, you almost feel like you were made for this. and perhaps that's exactly what leon wants you to feel right now.

leon's pace picks up a fraction, hand working his cock faster as he watches you struggle to stay still beneath him. stubborn as you are, leon's confident in you. he knows you'll do as he says, you've got no choice at this point. he chuckles lowly as you ogle his cock, almost looking dazed as he thumbs at the globs of precum glistening on his tip.

"yeah? you like watching me, baby? like seein' what your pretty mouth coulda earned if you knew how to fuckin' use it?" he says, his tone deceptively tender and sweet despite his harsh, teasing words that have your heart working overtime at how filthy he was being. a whine claws its way up your throat before you can stop it, and leon's mouth twitches into a satisfied smirk that has you cursing him out silently in your head.

"pretty little mess," he sighs, and the sigh is appreciative, almost reverent, like he's admiring his work—and technically, this was his doing. he's broken down all those layers of defiance and has reduced you to nothing but those tiny little whimpers and whines that show just how well he has you under his control. it's poetic, really— how easily he can strip away every ounce of resistance from you and leave you embarrassingly pathetic beneath him. he'd call this his favorite performance art.

"wanna know what i was thinking about all day?" he asks, conversational, like he's discussing something as simple as the weather, even as his voice has gotten a little ragged around the edges. his hand settles at the nape of your neck, fingers gingerly scratching against your scalp, a breathy exhale escaping you at his gentle touch. "sitting in that office, filing the same goddamn report for the third time 'cause sherry kept kicking it back, and you know what i kept thinkin' about?" he grits out, voice strained while he works his cock faster, the wet sound of it making your mouth water shamefully.

you shake your head, eyes wide and curious as you maintain heavy eye contact with him. you shift slightly, biting your lip at how fast he’s stroking himself now.

"i kept thinking about how badly you need somethin' to shut you up." his voice drops to almost a whisper, lips parting as a soft groan interrupts him. "kept thinking about coming home and finding some reason to get you down on your fuckin' knees for me," he admits shamelessly, and you can just feel how hot your cheeks are. it’s embarrassing to think about, knowing that his thoughts about you aren’t the sweet, lovey-dovey ones—but instead they’re filthy, almost degrading—and your stomach swirls uncomfortably at the realization.

"mm, but you, sweet thing?" he says condescendingly, a breathy laugh escaping him. "you handed it right to me on a goddamn silver platter." he goads, and ironic as it is, after literally preparing his dinner and handing him a plate, that wasn’t the first or last thing you handed to him. your dignity was the second tonight.

he pushes his hips forward slightly, just enough that the tip of his cock is nearly grazing your cheek, the heat of him radiating against your skin. you can feel the wetness leaking from him, almost but not quite smearing against the corner of your mouth, and your tongue darts out instinctively to chase it.

leon catches the movement and tsks, pulling his hips back just out of reach. your whine is immediate, pathetic, your hands fisting at your sides where they're balled against your thighs. "uh-uh." he shakes his head, the corners of his lips curling up in a cruel smirk. "you didn't earn that, baby." he chides, massaging your scalp with soft little scratches that have your thoughts all muddled and conflicted. he's driving you insane, and yet you still find yourself seeking his validation, yearning for his approval. the mind-numbingly addictive mix of him doting on you while degrading you in the same sentence is enough to drive you up a fucking wall.

"please—" the word rips out of you before you can stop it, hoarse and wrecked and humiliating in how needy it sounds. "leon, please, i—i'll be good, i swear—" you plead, tears welling in your eyes from his cruelty. leon's stare is intense, overbearing as he ogles your pathetic form beneath him.

his hand tightens in your hair at your mindless begging, tugging at the strands harshly and forcing a soft whimper from you. that gets a reaction—his jaw clenches, his fist falters around himself for the briefest second, and his cock visibly twitches in his grip, leaking another fat pearl that rolls slow down the underside.

"oh, now you want to be good," his voice is wrecked, lower, gravelly, the calm fraying at the seams. he's close, each tug on his cock pushing him further towards the edge and slowly breaking away at his composure. "now that i've got my cock out and you're crying on my kitchen floor. now you want to be good for me?" he asks, brows raised as if he was offended you even dared to beg him for forgiveness.

you nod frantically, tears finally spilling over and rolling hot down your cheeks. "i'll be good, leon, i—i'll be so good, please, please just—" you beg, eyes glossy and voice raspy from how tight your throat feels. you're crying, actually crying from how frustrated you are, biting your lip painfully hard to stop any more tears from escaping.

"shhh," he shushes, cooing at you softly as he takes in the look of desperation on your face. his thumb catches one of the tears, wiping away the salty stream and smearing it over your cheekbone, almost as if he was marking you. "i know, baby. i know you will. you always do, once we get to this part." his fist resumes its pace, his wrist working faster and in tight little twists at the head that have his breath catching audibly.

his stomach muscles tense where you can see the sliver of skin through the bottom of his shirt, the dark trail of hair leading down from his abdomen slick with sweat. his thighs flex, the veins corded along the beefy flesh bulging beneath the bunched fabric of his pants where they've fallen mid-thigh. he's right on the edge, his breaths coming out sharp and groans growing more frequent with each passing second.

"open." he commands, voice ragged. "mouth open, tongue out. and don't you fuckin' move." leon’s hand moves faster along his slick cock, the wet, filthy sound of it filling the kitchen. his other hand stays buried in your hair, holding you perfectly still exactly where he wants you.

you obey instantly, jaw dropping wide, tongue lolling out enthusiastically. a fresh wave of humiliation washes over you at how eager you must look, at how shamelessly you're offering yourself up, but the moment your tongue is out his groan is guttural, deep in his chest, and you feel your aching cunt clench at the heavenly sound. any humiliation you felt was quickly replaced with determination, the need to please, and ultimately, the desire to taste his cum on your tongue.

"fuck. fuckin' look at you." his eyes are locked on your open mouth, his fist a blur with how fast he's stroking himself now, the wet sound of it filthy in the quiet kitchen. "mm-hm, knew you needed to be used like this. knew it the second you opened that fuckin’ mouth. should've done this ages ago." he spits, hand tugging at your hair slightly, angling your head back so that he's got the perfect angle when he shoots his load all over your pretty face.

he steps closer, the tip of his cock now hovering just above your tongue, close enough that you can literally almost taste him if you moved forward even an inch. your jaw aches from holding it open, drool pooling at the corners of your lips, but you don't dare close it, forcing yourself to keep your mouth open and ready for his load.

"fuck, gonna give you somethin'—shit—real nice, baby," he pants, hand fisting tight at the crown of your skull. "fuck, baby—gonna paint that pretty fuckin' face. you want that? want my cum all over you?" he asks, hips bucking into his hand with each fast, slick stroke.

a desperate, garbled sound leaves your open mouth, as close as you can get it to a 'yes' without closing your mouth. tears are streaming freely down your cheeks now, your nipples are aching, your cunt is throbbing, and you have never, ever, wanted anything as badly as you want leon to cum on your face right now.

leon's hips stutter, a sharp, ragged groan punching out of him. "yeah— fuck, yeah… that's it, mm-hm, just like that—stick that fuckin' tongue out for me—" his fist works frantically now, the head of his cock a deep, angry red, his balls drawing up tight. you watch his abs clench, watch the veins in his neck strain, watch his eyes go almost black with lust as he stares down at you with the kind of hunger that makes you feel utterly devoured.

"shit— shit, baby, fuck,—" he moans, head lolling back as the first few knots in his lower abdomen begin to uncoil.

he comes with a low, broken groan that he doesn't even try to muffle, and the first thick rope of it landing hot across your cheek and the bridge of your nose. you flinch instinctively but his hand in your hair holds you steady, his hips jerking, his fist milking himself through it as the second spurt paints your lips and tongue, the third striping down your chin and dripping warm onto your collarbone.

his cock pulses in his fist, his cum thick, heavy, and hot as it drips down your face, painting you in stripes that he watches with hooded, hungry eyes. some of it catches on your eyelashes, some pools in the crevice of your collarbone, and the rest drips slowly down the swell of your breasts—his cum glistening on your skin like a signature across his newly finished masterpiece.

"fuck. fuck, look at that. look at you," he breathes, his voice almost reverent now, nearly broken from the intensity of his orgasm. his fist slows, milking the last few drops out onto your tongue, and you instinctively close your lips around the head when he presses it against your lips, suckling soft and obedient just like he taught you to.

he hisses through his teeth, hips twitching at the oversensitivity, but he lets you. lets you suck him clean, your tongue gently lapping at the slit until there's nothing left, until he's finally softening against your tongue. when he finally pulls free, the head of his cock leaves a wet, glistening smear across your bottom lip. his thumb is there immediately, dragging through the mess on your chin, gathering it up, and pressing it back between your lips for you to take.

"swallow it. all of it. don't you waste a fuckin' drop, sweetheart." he commands, forcing his finger into your mouth, humming in satisfaction when you eagerly take the cum-covered digit. you swallow around his thumb, eyes locked on his and tears drying on your cheeks. you feel his cum drying on your chest, feel it sticky on your face, and you have never felt more claimed than you do right now.

leon's chest is heaving, his hair stuck damp to his forehead, jaw slack, eyes blown wide, and soft, satisfied hums leave his as lips as he watches you swallow his load. god, it's something you want to commit to your memory for the rest of your life.

"good fuckin' girl," he praises, his breathing steadying out as he finally catches his breath from his orgasm. his thumb drags out of your mouth, slides through the cum on your cheek, and presses it back between your lips one more time just to watch you suck it clean. "my fucking girl. there she is." he says, affectionate, and you hum appreciatively around the digit, something warm swelling in your chest from how sweetly he was praising you.

his hand smooths down from your hair to cup your cheek, and his eyes finally soften, thumb stroking soft little circles into the skin despite the now dried cum that rests there like a brand. "you with me, baby?" he murmurs, thumb stroking through the mess on your cheek almost tenderly. "you okay?" he asks sincerely, eyes searching yours for any form of discomfort that could've been present.

you nod, dazed, blinking up at him through wet lashes. your voice, albeit tiny and ragged, finally manages a small, "i'm okay," and leon exhales in relief, his hand reaching up to stroke your hair tenderly.

"yeah?" the smile he gives you is fond, caring, the kind that makes your heart swell with adoration. you nod in response, leaning into his touch instinctively. "yeah, you did so good for me. so good, baby," he leans down, presses a soft kiss to your forehead despite the mess, lingering there for a moment. "let's get you cleaned up, sweet girl. c'mon."

he straightens up, tucks himself back into his boxers and lazily zips his pants up as he turns to the sink. you sit there, eyes red and puffy as you stare into nowhere for a bit, hands folded in your lap as you replay the scene in your head. you hear water running, the soft tear of a paper towel, and a moment later he's crouching back down in front of you, the warm, damp towel in his hand.

he cleans your face with slow, careful strokes. the cum on your cheek, the streak across your nose, the sticky mess on your chin, lips, and collarbone. he's so gentle now, so patient, the same hands that pulled your hair roughly when you wouldn't listen, now delicately smoothing the cloth across your skin like you're something precious.

you stare at him in awe as he continues, mouth gaped open dumbly as you absentmindedly palm your poor knees. he pulls back when he's finished, scanning your form meticulously as if he were searching for any injuries. "knees hurt, baby?" he asks when he sees you soothing them, hand blanketing yours as he strokes the skin softly.

you nod, eyes glossy as you meet his gaze, his stare softening as he reflects on his rough handling in the beginning. he grasps your hand, pressing a firm, sweet kiss to the skin apologetically.

"c'mere." he tosses the cloth into the trash, then bends and scoops you up under your knees and back in one easy motion, lifting you off the floor like you weigh nothing. your arms loop around his neck instinctively, face tucking into the warm crook between his jaw and shoulder, and you feel him exhale into your hair.

"let me make it up to you baby," he says, voice deep and sultry against your temple, and your heart pounds at the suggestion. finally, he's going to give you something, you think. you felt like you could've exploded down there on your knees, at his mercy and with no ground to stand on. "you still owe me for that mouth, though, baby. i haven't forgotten that easily." he muses, turning to press a firm kiss to your forehead as he walks in the direction of the stairs.

he carries you toward the stairs, the soft pad of his feet on the hardwood the only sound now besides your soft breaths against his neck. the light from the kitchen spills into the hallway, casting dark shadows up the stairwell, and his arms tighten around you as he guides you both to the bedroom.

© cametoile ♡ + ↻

nier’s note 🗒️: mean!leon back by popular demand! took some inspo from the lyrics of 15 minutes by sabrina carpenter w/this, i love her sm. i fucking nutted writing this holy shit, like this might be my favorite fic ive written. made him vv condescending this time + a little meaner than needed but its definitelyyy what i needed...! making this a two-parter for those who are curiousss, wanted to get this first part out because im impulsive and excited... enjoy!! final pt coming soon xx

[rosahgrace]

Soooo in your leon hcs you said you could make a list of all the things he'd say to you in bed. Could. Could we have the list 👀

Omg of course 😭

Is it bad that I already had this list for like a month. I just cleaned it up and added some more.

Things Leon would say to you in bed

Part 1 | Part 2: period headcanons

Trigger/content warnings: Tiny mention of insecurity. Also bit of degradation and praise (mdni)

Description: What Leon would say to you during intimacy

Notes: Found this in the deepest pits of my notes app and updated it a little. Any version of Leon and gender-neutral reader. Hope you enjoy ♡

● Like I said, he'd talk you through it. He loves talking to you through intimacy, and he doesn't even need you to reply.

​"Tell me what you need. Speak up, let me hear it."

​"Look at me. You're doing perfect."

​"Yeah? You like that? Thought you said you weren't going to let me win that easily."

​"Can't even find your words right now, hm? That's a first for you."

● He doesn't let you cover your face or hide in general. He'd say something like, "Don't hide from me now. I want to see exactly how you look when I touch you like this"

● He gets into this weird habit of treating your body parts like separate entities. If he’s trying to move your legs, he won't look at your face. He’ll tap your knee gently, and murmur a very dry, barely audible, "'scuse me..." as if he's politely asking a stranger on a crowded sidewalk to step aside.

● When you're in control, again, he doesn't shut up. He wants you to know that he completely trusts you to hold all the weight for a while.

​"You look absolutely incredible looking down at me like that..."

​"You have no idea what you do to me."

​"Guide my hands... where do you want them?"

● If you were into degradation, he'd be willing to try it with you. He usually doesn't force his words. They just come out naturally, which makes them 10× more effective. But, I don't think he'd be into anything extremely mocking or degrading. Just a very average amount, I feel like.

"Look at how worked up you get just from me looking at you. You really are pathetic for me, sweetheart."

"Look at you, barely able to keep your eyes open and chasing after my hand like a needy little thing. You really can't help yourself, can you?"

● He constantly narrates exactly how you're reacting to him. He isn't guessing how you feel, he's actively reading your body language like a map and reflecting it back to you.

"Oh, so now you're being shy? Pretty sure it's a bit late for that, sweetheart."

​"You always turn your face away right when you get flustered. Don't do that. Let me look at you."

​"Every time I slow down, you completely shift to match me. Look at how you're leaning into it, sweetheart. You're letting me guide your entire pace right now."

● He loves really lazy morning sex, and it's when he's at his most vulnerable. It's a certain point in his day where he's not performing or being a protector for anyone, and his most honest, unguarded words come out.

"I love you so much. More than you'll ever know. I can't even put it into words."

"You're so fucking perfect. I don't understand it."

"You've saved me in so many ways just by existing. I don't know what I'd do without you."

● If you were ever insecure about any part of your body during intimacy, he shuts it down immediately. Not just to make you feel better, but because he's genuinely confused at your feelings as he loves that part of you so much. He doesn't just say "you're beautiful" or just tells you that he loves that part of you. He makes you feel genuinely worth.

"There isn't a single version of you that isn't completely worth having, through every single flaw and every good day."

​"Hey. Look at me. You're way too hard on yourself. You don't have to be flawless to be incredible and sexy, which you are, you know?"

​"Don't hide from me. Please."

● He loves talking to you during sex, as you know very well, but sometimes he gets so caught up in the pleasure that he stops for a bit, and all you're left with are his groans and moans and occasional whimpers when he really likes something you do. The only words that escape him when he gets like that are breathless curses or your name when he gasps it like a lifeline. Sometimes followed by the occasional, ragged "please," whether you're in control or not. It just escapes him every single time.

A/N: Sorry this took longer than it should've, I've been so busy 😭 I've been doing loads of finals, I had to get my highlights in my hair retouched, my OCD had gotten like 10× worse randomly, and i just haven't really been active for a few days. I hope you enjoyed ♡

[altforleon]

18+ MDNI

Leon won’t let you suck his dick

Warnings: smut obvi, hair pulling, praise kink, no y/n, no pronouns used, oral sex (m receiving), I wrote the reader a little shy but not anything over the top. Sweet Leon in this one.

I don’t use AI, don’t feed my works to AI.

The first time you tried he’d just spent what felt like hours- and maybe it had been, you can’t even think straight, much less guess the time - between your legs. You’re still panting, still recovering, and Leon’s looking up at you, pleased with himself as you tiredly paw at his hair, worried he’ll try to wring another orgasm out of you before you’ve had a chance to breathe.

“That all you can take, baby?” The pet name is sweet on his tongue, still blissfully new, you’ve only been together for a few months now, only sleeping together a handful of times and never like this. If you weren’t already warm all over the way he’s talking would have made sure you were. You feel heat curling in your stomach, and his hands tighten where they hold you thighs apart, as if he can sense it. “I think you’ve got another in you, just one more.”

He’s already leaning forward, mouth inches from you, but your hands in his hair stop him, a little tug and he looks like he’s won as he looks back at your face, not moving in case you give him the go ahead, despite your obvious hesitation. “L-Leon, baby, don’t you want to cum? I could- I could use my mouth?” You near trip over the words, anxiety even though this is far from your first time.

“Oh that’s okay, sweetheart. Maybe later, I just want this for now, if you can handle it?” He looks almost shy, so you don’t push, and the night ends with him inside you, telling you how beautiful you are, so you don’t question it.

~

Then it happens again, and it’s a lot more obvious this time, a heated make out session on his couch that led to you slipping to your knees on the floor in front of him, hands going to his belt, but one of his hands finds your jaw and he’s looking down at you in a way that has you squirming, but then he talks, so kind even though you’re a little embarrassed, “That’s ok, baby, how about you let me take care of you, hm?”

~

Another gentle rejection or two later and you decide you won’t try again for a little while, you’re too embarrassed even though you’ve never done it with him, so it’s not like he thinks you’re bad at it. But he hasn’t told you why he doesn’t let you, so obviously it’s something you did.

Then one day he’s got you in his lap, and he’s hard against your ass, moaning a little when you grind down and you just snap, burying your face in his neck to hide your embarrassment, to avoid the kindness in his eyes, the soft way he looks at you when he tells you no, “Why won’t you let me suck your dick? Did I do something? Did I not do something? If you just didn’t like it you would have told me so you can’t say that’s what this is now.” That’s a gamble on your part, Leon doesn’t really talk about what he likes or what he doesn’t unless you ask, he’ll make sure he has your consent and then he’ll run with it but he doesn’t really seek out his own- oh, that’s why.

You put it together right as he says it, “I’d just feel selfish, I guess.” Then his hands are on your hips, pulling you back to look at him, panic in his voice, “Not that you’re selfish! I just- it’s just different. I want you to cum until you can’t or don’t want to and I love making that happen, however you want me, I enjoy it and you aren’t selfish-“

“I get it,” you cut him off, embarrassed at how he talks about it all so casually, like the mess he reduces you to is the most normal thing in the world, “I’m not selfish, but you’d feel selfish if I did it to you? Leon, thats sweet but stupid, I feel the same way about you. I want you to get to experiences I get to have.”

“Oh.” He’s looking at you like it’s never occurred to him that you’d want that, despite how many times you’ve offered. Then you watch the tips of his ears turn red, and a nice, light blush settling across his cheeks, “Well, I guess it’s ok then. If you want, but also if you don’t want to I’m perfectly fine with just-“

Your knees hit the ground with a thud, looking up at him expectantly, and that light blush turns darker as he stares down at you, hands going to his pants and slowly pulling them down, as if he’s giving you time to change your mind. You’re almost worried the anxiety will cause him some trouble but the second he frees his dick it’s slapping up against his stomach, a little precum on the tip.

You’re on him in seconds, one hand circling around the base of him, the other settling on his thigh as you lean forward and guide his tip into your mouth. The grunt he lets out as you swallow him down has you squeezing your thighs together, and the wide-eyed stare he has when you look up at him fills you with glee.

“Fuck, baby, you really did want this, huh?” Leon’s already panting, and you feel his hips lift a fraction of an inch before he catches it, forcing himself to stay still as he leans back against the couch, biting the back of his wrist when he feels your throat twitch around him.

You bob your head, tongue licking stripes on the underside of his dick, a prominent vein becoming your new favorite thing, and he can’t catch himself before he thrusts up this time. You gag slightly and recover before he can panic too much, but his hands go in your hair like he might pull you off before you convince him with a firm suck to his tip that you’re ok.

He lets out a little strained sound at that, and you look up to see his eyes closed tightly, jaw clenched shut like that’ll keep him quiet, and you start to work faster, a hand coming up to his balls just to feel when they start to tense. “I’m close baby, you don’t have to swallow, or we could stop if you want.”

His words are coming out tense, like it’s taking everything for him to not cum down your throat and god, if that’s not doing it for you. You take him as deep as you can, a nice fast pace that makes him feel vaguely like your sucking out his soul and there’s that little sound from his throat again, followed by a gasp and hot cum hitting the back of your throat.

Leon’s hands are gentle in your hair, almost petting you as he comes down, feeling you still sucking gently until he pulls you off with a hiss from the over-sensitivity. “Did so good, sweetheart. Was that ok? Was I too rough with you?”

You climb back in his lap before answering, sitting right on his damp, softening cock and enjoying the little twitch of his hips when the friction is too much for him, “Next time fuck my face? Pretty please?”

He looks at you with shock, wide blue eyes meeting yours as he begins to blush again, letting out a sigh like the tired old man that he is. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

A/N: re9 Leon just gives major service top vibes idk why. Like I can see him doing whatever his partner wants and like obvi he wants to cum but only when it’s convenient and they’re satisfied.

[genshinluvr]

Shameless

Pairing: RE9!Leon Kennedy x isekai'd!fem!Reader (ft. Grace Ashcroft and Victor Gideon) Summary: Whenever you play Leon's part in Resident Evil Requiem, Leon hears everything you say—from your curses, to your praises, to your reaction to seeing him break open a warped door with his hatchet—he hears it all. Even when you get thrown into his universe, you're just as shameless as you were before you arrived. Note: It ain't a Genshinluvr fic if I don't write at least one fic with an isekai plot. There are snippets of the actual game in this fic, and as the fic progresses, once you/the reader gets isekai'd into Resident Evil Requiem. I had the time of my life typing this out, not gonna lie. It was fun as hell. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo). Warning: Violence (the usual), Victor Gideon caressing Leon (is that a warning itself?), The Girl, you'll probably get secondhand embarrassment from this fic. Word Count: 9.8k

You're buzzing with excitement, knowing you're going to see the 49-year-old Leon S. Kennedy in his glory after playing Grace's part at the Wrenwood Hotel. You have been anticipating the release of Resident Evil Requiem ever since you saw the trailer for the game. Now that it's in your Steam library, you have been itching to play the game after work.

You're sitting at your desk, knees pressing against your chest as the cut scene plays before you. Your heart is still pounding against your chest after you manage to escape from the infected police officer, Cole. You watch Grace collapse in the strange man's iron grip, her body slumping to the side, and the screen goes black.

"Is it finally happening?" You whisper, leaning forward towards the monitor, and watch the series of police cars slowly appear on the screen, before cutting to a scene where it shows a dead body with strange blotches on the palm of the deceased's hand. Your eyes light up. "It is! It is it is it is!"

The man—obviously, it's thee Leon S. Kennedy—gets up from where he was kneeling and leaves the area that is blocked off with crime scene tape.

"Talk to me. Is this one like the others?" A woman's voice breaks through the sound of pouring rain as the man walks towards the CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS and POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS tape.

"Same black blotches." He ducks under the tape and continues to walk past the police cars at the crime scene.

"And it's not postmortem lividity?" The mission coordinator asks.

"No." He turns toward the area where his car is parked. "No, this is different. That's six now. Six survivors of Raccoon City, all dead from the same thing." The scene switches to the inside of the car.

"Yeah, that's… not good."

"No… No, it's not." The car door opens, and the investigator gets into the car before closing it.

You lean in your seat, biting your bottom lip. God, his voice is so husky. You continue watching the cut scene, completely immersed and enamored by the sight of the man you will be playing as very soon, once the cut scene is over. The mission coordinator proceeds to give additional information to the mysterious man.

You already know who this mysterious man is behind the wheel. But when the bottom half of his face is shown in the rear-view mirror, you audibly gasp and continue to watch the cut scene, watching the man grab his gun and pop out the cylinder, spinning it around before popping it back in, while the mission coordinator continues to speak in his intercom.

The minute the game finally reveals Leon's face, you gasp. "Oh my—Leon, you're so handsome."

For about thirty seconds, Leon doesn't respond to the woman on the other end of his intercom. His eyebrows slightly furrow, his eyes scanning his surroundings. Did he just hear someone else's voice? It's certainly not the mission coordinator. What the hell?

"You there, Leon?" The mission coordinator asks, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Leon nods. "Yeah. I'm here."

"You okay?" Leon can hear the woman raise her eyebrows as she waits for his response.

Leon doesn't respond to her question. Leon glances in his rear-view mirror, checking to see if a random woman may have sneaked into his car, but he sees no one. Leon pushes the start button of his Porsche Cayenne Turbo GT, and the black luxury car purrs to life.

"Send me the address," Leon says, putting his car in reverse and turning halfway. "I'll check it out." Leon puts his gearshift into drive before he drives off into the night.

You stare at the dark screen after watching Leon's car disappear into the night—your mouth agape. You're so glad that you spent $69.99 for this game. You could spend additional money on the deluxe version, but you wanted to finish the game first before deciding whether a deluxe version is worth buying.

You end up playing the game for a little over an hour. You're now on Grace's part of the game, where you need to find a screwdriver for the fuse box in Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center. You didn't know what got into you when you chose to play the standard classic mode rather than casual or standard modern mode.

"God, I'm so stupid. Why am I doing this to myself?" You mutter after Grace grabs the ink ribbon in the room that you unlocked with the Cherub Key. "Limited autosaves, and I need to save my gameplay wisely. Why did I choose this mode again?"

You're roaming around the area as Grace—you're playing in first-person point of view—trying to gather the courage to go to the nursing station. It's so dark that you have to squint to see in the darkness. As much as you want to change the setting to make it a little brighter for you to see in the dark, where's the fun in that?

"It's okay! I can do this! Everything will be okay, and nothing will happen!" You try to give yourself a pep talk, having Grace walk to the nursing station with a tiny lighter in her hand, illuminating her path. Just as Grace approaches the door, a cut scene is triggered, and an infected corpse falls through the door, scaring both you and Grace.

Grace leans down and touches the corpse's neck. "He's dead." Grace states the obvious.

"I would hope so." You mutter, mentally preparing for what's to come.

After Grace moves the man's head, a large hand emerges from the darkness and grabs the infected corpse. Grace lets out a choked gasp, watching in horror as the grotesque monster brings the dead body up to her mouth and bites off the head.

Its eyes lock on Grace, mouth and teeth stained with blood, and it leans towards Grace. You flinch back from your monitor, questioning your choices on playing the game in the dead of night. After the cut scene ends, you immediately turn around and leave the nursing station with the monster at your (Grace's?) tail.

"Come on, come on, come on! Can you please run any faster, Grace?" You panic, shaking your legs as you run to the nearest room that has lights. When you successfully run to Room 203, you turn around to see the grotesque monster at the entrance of the room.

The monster steps into the room, causing Grace to fearfully yell out, "Don't come any closer!"

The monster's gray skin starts sizzling and burning from the lights in the room. It shrieks and steps outside the room. You and Grace watch the monster climb up a hole in the ceiling, leaving Grace alone at last. Just when you thought you were safe, the lights in the room went out, sending chills and shivers down your spine.

You run out of the room, heart pounding against your chest. After you make it back to the nursing station, you grab the med injector and start searching for the screwdriver for the fuse box. You can hear blood pounding in your ears, listening to Grace's shaky breath.

You search around the room and eventually have to move the cart. But before you do that, you move it slightly and open the locker to see a green herb.

"This could be useful," Grace mutters, grabbing it.

You climb onto the cart, grabbing the antique coin from the top of the locker before getting off. You grab the cart and start pushing towards the shelf where you spotted a red toolbox perched on top. Just as you're halfway to the shelf, a metal tray slides off the cart and clatters loudly to the ground, causing you and Grace to freeze momentarily.

You hear chains and shackles dragging on the floor, followed by heavy footsteps that are heading towards the nursing station where Grace is. Out of sheer panic, you grab the cart and move it closer to the shelf, ignoring the other items falling off and crashing to the ground.

You catch a glimpse of the creature through the window, slamming her hand against the glass while walking towards the nursing station. At this point, your heart is in your throat, and you're close to pausing the game and ending it there for the night, but the issue is that you still need to save the game, and if you don't, you have to redo where it last auto-saved.

Once the cart is close enough to the shelf, you climb onto it and grab the red toolbox, unlatching it and taking out the screwdriver. You sigh in relief, hopping off the cart and running to the nearest hiding spot. You extinguish the flames of Grace's lighter, staring at the door while listening to the monster getting closer to where you're having Grace hide.

The monster's hand suddenly appears, grabbing onto the doorframe before walking into the room. It sniffs the air, walking further into the room and looking around. It gets close to where the cart is and lets out a frenzied growl, swiping at the cart, causing it to fly to the desk. Grace whimpers.

You take it as a sign to start running. Before the mutated creature can turn and look in your and Grace's direction, you have Grace leave the hiding spot and start sprinting in the darkness. Since the creature turned the lights off in Room 203, you start running to the room where the typewriter sits. Before you pass the nursing station, the door bursts open, and the monster appears.

You briefly pause the game, staring at the menu in horror. Your heart is thudding painfully against your chest as you try to calm down. You lean back in your seat, heavily debating if you should just stop there.

"But I made so much progress. I have the screwdriver. I just need to find a way to get Grace to go around the monster, run to Room 201, get the fuse from the fuse box in that very room, and run to the other fuse box where I got the Cherub Key."

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. God, this is horrifying. Playing the game in first person point of view makes it even scarier than you anticipated. You give yourself a pep talk before unpausing the game. Grace cries out in fear, freezing in fear when the monster fully reveals itself in front of Grace.

You start mashing the buttons, begging for Grace to start moving or else she's dead. "Come on, come on, come on! We gotta go, or else we're next, Grace!"

As if she heard you, Grace turns around and starts running to the other entrance of the nursing station where the two of you came from. Grace hides near the desk in the nursing station, panting as the two of you wait and listen to the monster walk past the nursing station over and over.

"This is horrifying." You mutter, hands trembling on your mouse and keyboard. "Is the empty bottle even going to work in this situation?" You creep towards the door where the monster burst from, trying to see where it is.

You take the empty bottle out of Grace's inventory and aim for the furthest part of the hallway—close to where the plant was knocked over—and toss the bottle. The bottle shatters, grabbing the creature's attention. It shrieks and charges towards where the bottle landed, giving you and Grace a small window to escape your hiding spot.

You have Grace sprint to Room 201 as fast as she could, but it feels like Grace wasn't running at all from first person perspective. It feels more like a power walk rather than Grace running for her life. Halfway down the hallway, you and Grace hear the monster shrieking and charging towards where you're heading.

"Hurry, hurry!"

Grace pushes the door aside and makes it to the room where the typewriter sits. You sigh in relief, blood pounding in your ears. Grace takes a few steps towards where the fuse box is, only for the entire building to shake and the lights to flicker and turn off.

"We need to get that fuse and get the hell out of here as soon as possible," You say, making Grace go to the fuse box inside the closet. You unscrew the fuse box with the screwdriver, and Grace takes out the fuse, triggering a cut scene.

Grace stares at the fuse, "Alright," she mutters. Grace turns around, and just when she can leave the closet, you and Grace hear a faint thud coming above her. Grace gasps and looks up at the gaping hole in the ceiling of the closet in horror.

Grace takes a step back, eyes still locked on the hole. "Oh my god," Grace whispers.

The monster starts climbing into the room where Grace is, causing Grace to gasp and start panicking. The cut scene suddenly ends, and now you find yourself forcing Grace to turn around and make a run for it to the fuse box where the Cherub Key was located.

The lights shatter, and the building rumbles as Grace runs through the dark hallways of Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center. When you press 'F' at the fuse box, a cut scene is triggered, showing Grace shoving the fuse into the fuse box, pressing the button, and quickly looking back as the security gate slowly pulls up.

You watch Grace drop to the ground and quickly crawl underneath the moving gate. "Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on!" Grace pleads as she crawls through the gate, and the monster appears where Grace came from. You collapse in your seat, sighing in relief, happy that you have gotten through the first (among many) difficult parts of the game.

The monitor goes black before switching to another cut scene—but it starts with showing Leon's Porsche driving through the gate of Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center and to the front. Leon exits the car, and you gasp in awe, completely enamored by the mere sight of Leon S. Kennedy.

"God, he looks so good." You whisper breathlessly as you watch him walk to the door of the facility after closing the car door. "Why can't you be real?" You lament, resting your chin on your knees as you continue watching the cut scene unfold.

Leon stands in the central hall, his eyes scanning his surroundings. It's quiet, too quiet. But despite how quiet it is in the facility, Leon still hears the same voice he heard earlier near the crime scene he left before arriving at the sanatorium. Maybe he's going crazy, and the side effects of the T-virus are starting to get to him.

You watch the nurse appear behind Leon, calling out to him and informing him that Dr. Gideon was expecting him.

"Funny. I don't remember getting an invitation," Leon's sarcastic response makes you snort, shaking your head. Leon hears the faint snort, the corners of his lips barely curving up into a smile.

The nurse continues speaking to Leon, telling him that Dr. Gideon is waiting for him. Leon soon follows after the nurse as she guides him to who knows where. The cut scene continues a little longer, only for the nurse to lead Leon to the rehabilitation ward. The door closes behind Leon, making him turn around. Then the cut scene ends there, and now you're in control of Leon.

You don't move Leon, watching him on the screen and admiring his design. God, the developers at Capcom really went all out for Leon. You spin the camera around, continuing to admire him. Leon looks around the facility, wondering why he couldn't move despite trying to. It's like he's locked in place until someone commands him to move. The nurse is waiting at the end of the hallway, waiting for him to follow.

"Okay, I need to get moving and stop getting easily distracted by Leon," You say to yourself, finally controlling Leon's movements and proceeding to follow the nurse as Leon.

The nurse explains about the facility and what they do at the sanatorium as both Leon and the nurse continue walking down the hall. Leon has no idea where the nurse is leading him, and neither do you, but judging by the map, it's probably to your (mainly Leon's) doom.

"The facility keeps a low profile due to the sensitive nature of the research," The nurse says, walking to the rehabilitation center of the facility.

"Oh, I bet it does," Leon replies, as he follows the nurse throughout the facility.

You hum, eyebrows furrowing at the conversation between Leon and the nurse of the strange facility. "That's something someone suspicious would say," You mutter, face scrunching up. You're so glad that you haven't dealt with any horrors as Leon just yet. "You have a mutated monster stomping around your facility right now, too."

Leon raises his eyebrows at your comment, still questioning if he's going crazy. Leon glances around, then at the nurse, but she doesn't seem to notice anything strange—or hear a woman's voice for that matter—and continues making her way to the room at the end of the rehabilitation ward. Once Leon gets closer to the room and the nurse, a new cut scene starts for you.

You yawn, stretching in your seat, watching the nurse leave Leon alone in the room and closing the door behind her as she leaves. The camera zooms in on Leon, making your face scrunch up.

"God, this Dr. Gideon guy is way more obsessed with Leon than I am," You comment, watching Leon peek at every little thing in the room.

Leon raises his eyebrows at your comment. "Almost as you are? What do you mean by that?" Leon wants to ask. Instead, Leon chooses to stay silent, as saying things out loud would earn weird looks from whoever passes by the room he's in, or could land him in this exact facility.

Little did you know, Leon's searching around for where the voice is coming from. The woman's voice is loud and clear to him, and yet he sees no one. He's alone in this room, but he's been hearing voices in his head every now and then. The voice comes and goes, gushing over him and his skills; other times, the same voice would chime in after someone—who's conversing with Leon—says something.

Leon rests against the desk, reaching for the photograph of Victor Gideon and his medical team that runs the facility. Leon subconsciously furrows his eyebrows as he scrutinizes the image in his hand before setting it back down where he found it. Leon checks the time on his watch, his expensive watch appearing on your monitor.

"That looks expensive, but I shouldn't be surprised. You drive a Porsche Cayenne Turbo GT—that's probably the most expensive thing I've seen you own." You comment, watching the time tick away on Leon's watch.

Much to your disappointment, the cut scene soon comes to an end after the nurse is killed by the chainsaw-wielding doctor. You're soon in control of Leon again and have to kill every infected person in the surrounding area with a chainsaw, which you're not a fan of.

"This thing is a bit hard to wield around. It kind of slows me down, and after Leon plunges the chainsaw into a zombie, I would need to retrieve it again from said zombie…" You sigh, shaking your head. "Oh, shit." The chainsaw drops to the ground and starts spinning out of control.

You force Leon out of the way, trying to avoid getting hit by the out-of-control chainsaw. A zombie nurse charges at Leon with her arms outstretched, trying to grab him. You try shooting the nurse with the requiem gun, but miss.

"Fuck. My aim is atrocious. I am so sorry, Leon. You're supposed to be cool, but I'm making you look like an amateur loser." You frown.

Leon frowns. "Amateur loser? Who are you calling an amateur loser?" Leon mouths to himself, continuing to aim his gun at the infected nurse.

You try shooting the nurse as she gets closer to Leon, but before you can shoot, the nurse lunges at Leon. You let out a choked gasp, assuming Leon is done for, but he ducks underneath the nurse's grasp and shoots her at the back of the head, blood spewing all over the place when her head explodes.

"Whoa!" You gasp, eyes wide in awe. "How did you do that?!" You exclaim, pausing briefly to look at what buttons you've pressed, but you're too busy mashing different buttons to know the actual controls of the dodge he just did.

You unpause the game. "Leon, can you do that again?" You ask yourself, shooting every zombie that's charging at Leon at full speed. How the hell did you do that again? You really need to know what the controls are, or else you won't be able to pull that cool move ever again.

As more zombies emerge from the other rooms in the rehabilitation ward, you shoot every zombie in the head successfully despite having bad aim. An infected doctor lunges at Leon, causing you to panic momentarily, miss your shot, and giving the zombie an opportunity to grab onto Leon and bite down on his shoulders.

"Ah, fuck! I'm so sorry, Leon!"

Leon cries out in pain as he thrashes around, trying to get the zombie to release. You press on your mouse frantically, watching Leon's health bar rapidly deplete at a dangerous pace, the longer the zombie bites down on Leon's shoulders. Leon reaches for his hatchet and attacks the zombie, causing it to back away.

"I really need to learn how to properly parry and aim." You grumble, aiming Leon's requiem gun at the zombie and shoot, only to miss again. "Man, I'm making Leon look uncool, what the fuck."

The zombie lunges at Leon again, and before you can panic, Leon dodges under the zombie's arm and shoots it at the back of its head. The adrenaline dies down, and Leon is left alone in the rehabilitation ward, surrounded by headless zombies.

The only sounds you hear are the sounds of the chainsaw and Leon's heavy breathing, his health bar yellow rather than green. Before escaping the ward, you have Leon search around the room for a healing item. You could use the green herb in your inventory, but it's not enough to fully heal Leon.

"It's okay, Leon! You're going to be okay! You're not going to die under my watch, no matter how bad I am with aiming and parrying." You reassure the DSO agent, picking up the mixed herbs from the glass cabinet that Leon broke. After picking up the mixed herbs, you immediately use them, watching Leon's health bar slightly go up.

You continue playing the game until almost four in the morning, only having to end your gameplay after Leon's cut scene with Victor Gideon after your Mom peeks into your room, scaring the shit out of you.

"Why are you still awake?!" Your Mom asks, staring at you in horror.

You point at your monitor, a cut scene of Leon tied up to a chair playing on your screen. Your Mom peeks at your computer and sighs, shaking her head before leaving your room, muttering under her breath about how you need to stop staying up so late.

You turn back to your monitor, taking multiple screenshots of Leon tied to the chair while Victor Gideon is almost sweet-talking to the DSO agent. You stare at Leon in awe, mouth agape. The side view of Leon on? Whew! His biceps are looking extra delicious.

You bite your bottom lip. "God, I would love to sink my teeth into those biceps of his." You lean back in your seat, groaning. "The ladies at Capcom did a fantastic job at designing Leon."

You watch Victor Gideon touch Leon, almost oh-so intimately. The way his gray fingers brush the strands of Leon's brown and silver hair. Ugh. You're so envious of Victor's privilege to even be in the presence of Leon Kennedy. You make sure to take multiple screenshots of Leon—frame by frame.

Leon can hear the camera shutters, raising an eyebrow. It's strange how Victor Gideon is touching him, and yet this voice in his head is swooning over him being tied up and touched by the former T-Virus researcher. Of course, he doesn't hear you mention a single thing about Victor, only about wanting to sink your teeth into his (your words, not his) beefy biceps.

"I don't like how he's touching you, Leon. He's practically fondling you." You grumble. "I should be the one to do that, not him. Just like how I should be the one to lunge at you and sink my teeth into your biceps, not those greedy zombies."

The camera cuts to Leon looking down while Victor Gideon softly says, "Are the answers to your disease here?" after pulling down Leon's shirt collar. Victor leans down, his face not far from Leon's. "Yes…." Victor whispers.

Leon flinches, his face pinching up with disgust. "You know, I do have a question," Leon says, looking at Victor, deadpanned. "When was the last time you brushed your teeth?"

Leon hears immediate laughter coming from you after asking. Leon's tempted to laugh as well, but because of the predicament he's in, he doesn't smile. The smile on Victor's face slips off, and he backs away from Leon and takes a few steps in front of Leon.

Mechanical whirring can be heard from Leon's end as Victor stares at him, zooming in on his face and his eyes. You take a quick screenshot, thanking Victor for being oddly meticulous when it comes to Leon. If it weren't for Victor, you wouldn't have a lot of screenshots of Leon added to your new collection.

The cut scene soon ends with you taking over fifty screenshots (you're pressing down on the screenshot button, taking screenshots of every frame), and you find yourself back in control of Leon. You frown, letting out a wistful sigh. "I'm going to need to find a stopping point and go to bed. Let's trigger an auto save somewhere, and I'll continue when I wake up." You say to yourself.

You make it to where Leon needs to go and stop in front of a metal cabinet storage that's blocking a doorway. You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue, approaching said cabinet storage with a cheeky smile. Oh, you are going to enjoy this!

You press 'F,' and Leon starts lifting the cabinet to move it out of the way, his biceps and back muscles flexing as he lets out a grunt. Before Leon successfully moves the cabinet out of the way, you suddenly release the 'F' key.

"Oh, fuck, my hands slipped." You say to no one.

It's a good thing Leon's back is facing your monitor because if it were facing his direction, you would've seen an eye roll from him along with a shy smile. Leon knows what you're doing; he's not stupid. You press the 'F' key again, watching Leon lift the cabinet, his biceps flexing underneath that tight shirt of his. Again, before Leon can fully move the obstacle out of the way, you release the keys.

You huff. "Man, my keyboard is messed up. I really need to get a new one because for some reason, it's not lasting long," You say with a shit-eating grin on your face. "I have a bad feeling that this keyboard is going to give me… issues the longer I play this game with a broken keyboard."

"Oh, yeah?" Leon mutters, shaking his head with a small smirk, his shoulders shaking from his quiet laughter. He can get used to hearing your commentary while he's handling the shit show that's happening at Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center.

Finally, after some time, you finally have Leon move the metal cabinet, relishing in the sight of his muscles flexing underneath his shirt, and the sound of his grunts as he does so. Leon S. Kennedy, the man that you are! The autosave button appears in the top left corner of the screen, signaling you to go to bed.

With a heavy heart, you bid Leon goodnight—as if he could hear you—before pausing and exiting the game. You plop onto your bed after the game closes and roll on your bed, eyelids feeling heavy after staring at your monitor for who knows how long. You close your eyes and drift into a dreamless sleep.

A few hours into your sleep, you wake up to the feeling of your bedroom shaking, forcing yourself to crack your eyes open briefly and stare up at the ceiling, still groggy from your slumber. You rub your eyes, mumbling to yourself, and turn over on your right side before going back to sleep. Earthquakes are common, so waking up to one isn't out of the ordinary. Nothing seems out of the norm, but little did you know, this isn't any other earthquake you've dealt with in the past.

That is, until you wake up to someone shaking you nonstop. "Hey, can you hear me? Wake up!" The voice says as the shaking continues.

You groan, trying to turn over and ignore whoever is shaking you. "Not now." You mumble, eyebrows furrowing.

Whoever is shaking you is very persistent, as they continue to do something to try to rouse you from your sleep. The person starts lightly patting your cheek, muttering about how you need to wake up and stop ignoring them. You finally crack your eyes open after a while, vision blurry from your sleep. A blurry face is hovering above yours, but as your vision gradually clears up, your heart nearly falls into your ass.

"Leon?" You whisper in disbelief, mind still foggy from your sleep.

Leon chuckles, sighing in relief. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Good to see those eyes of yours," Leon says, his eyes scanning the littlest details on your face. "I was worried you weren't going to wake up, but it seems like you're not a morning person, huh."

You don't respond to Leon as you slowly reach up and cup his face with both your hands, still trying to comprehend what's happening. Surely this is a dream, right? You did play Resident Evil Requiem for hours before going to bed, and Leon's the last thing you were thinking about before drifting to sleep.

"This is the most vivid dream I have ever had," You mutter, still holding Leon's face in your hands. "Man, it's going to be so disappointing when I wake up."

Leon stares down at you, confused. "What are you talking about?"

You shake your head, head falling to the side before sighing sadly. "This is the best dream I've ever had, and yet I'm going to get a rude awakening very soon once this ends." You lament.

"Aw, man. I think you hit your head pretty hard when you fell," Leon mutters, feeling around your head for a possible concussion.

You blink at Leon. "Of course, I fell for you. Who wouldn't fall for you?"

Leon shakes his head, the corner of his lips curling up. Despite everything, you still manage to be a sweet talker, much to Leon's amusement. Then again, you do think that this is all a dream. Leon's fingers brush a certain area on your head, earning a hiss from you. "I can feel a goose egg forming."

Now that your mind clears up and you're more awake than you were, you come to the realization that Leon is cradling you in his arms—his beefy arms. Wait, that means that his bicep is your pillow. You rub your eyes again, sitting up and looking around to see that you're not in your room. This dream is a bit too realistic for your liking, because why are you in the attic of Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center?

Panic hits you like a train. Your head snaps towards Leon's direction. "This is a dream, right? I'm still asleep in my bed, right?" You start pinching yourself, but nothing is happening. "Oh, my god. This can't be real. This has to be a dream."

Leon doesn't say anything. Instead, he continues to stare at you, taking in every detail of your face, your hair, and your clothes. The longer Leon listens to you ramble, the more he realizes something.

His eyes light up. "You're the voice I've been hearing," Leon says, his arm still holding you up.

His comment makes you go silent. "Pardon?" You press your lips into a thin line. "What do you mean?"

Leon's lips curl up into a smile, shaking his head. "I don't think now is a good time to tell you when you're having an inner turmoil."

Maybe a hug will help you calm down a little, but given the things he heard you say a few hours before your arrival, it probably won't help. But it won't hurt to try, right? Leon pulls you into his arms, hugging you. Your cheek is cushioned against his chest, his beefy arms around your torso, and his chin is resting atop your head.

You wrap your arms around Leon's neck, feeling yourself melting in his arms. God, it feels so nice to hug him. You can't describe what it's like to hug Leon, but you can live in his arms if it's possible. You and Leon sit like that for a while. It doesn't feel weird or uncomfortable to be hugging someone you don't know—a fictional one, to be specific.

It's comforting and gives you a small window to collect your thoughts. You went to bed, but woke up to an earthquake before falling back asleep. Then you're roused from your sleep by Leon, who claimed that you hit your head when you fell. This is all so strange.

"How the hell did I get isekai'd into Resident Evil Requiem? I didn't get hit by a truck." You mutter to yourself, but it's loud enough for Leon to hear.

Leon raises his eyebrows, leaning down to look at your face from the side. "What does 'isekai' mean? And what do you mean by getting hit by a truck?" God, the creases between his eyebrows are so cute. You'd love to smooth the wrinkles over with your fingers.

"I will explain that to you after you tell me what you meant by 'you're the voice I've been hearing,'" You reply, looking up at him.

Leon stares at you for a moment, chuckling to himself. "Alright, alright, I'll tell you what I meant when I said that," Leon caves in.

Leon's not sure if he should look forward to your reaction after he explains everything to you. But hey, you did say that you want him to explain what he meant by what he said, so who is he to deny you? As Leon explains everything, he watches your reaction and body language closely.

The way your face fell was both comical and endearing because now you're covering your face out of sheer embarrassment, but you didn't cover your ears, letting him know that you're still listening despite your reaction. By the time Leon is done explaining, he has a wide smile on his face, the crow's feet at the corner of his eyes becoming noticeable.

You take a deep breath, trying not to have a mental breakdown after hearing Leon's explanation. "You heard everything." You say. Suddenly, you feel faint, but you can't faint in front of Leon. You can't embarrass yourself in front of Leon for the umpteenth time in a row.

Leon nods, still smiling. "That is correct."

"My cursing whenever you get bitten by a zombie."

"You curse like a sailor, but also like a child who was granted permission to curse by her parents." He replies.

You immediately protest. "What! No, I don't!" Do you? Man, this just keeps getting worse and worse for you. "… You also heard my thirst over your…"

"Beefy biceps, me using my hatchet to crack open a warped door, and you claiming that your keyboard is broken when I need to move the fallen metal cabinet in front of a doorway. I can go on, but I'm afraid that you'll have a heart attack if I continue." Leon says.

You hug your knees to your chest. At this point, you're more likely to die from embarrassment than from a zombie bite. You didn't know that Leon can hear everything you say! Does that mean Grace and Victor hear the things you say, too?

You peek at Leon, "Please tell me that no one else hears the things I say." You whisper.

Leon gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You don't need to worry about that. As far as I know, I was the only person who heard your voice. It doesn't seem like Victor heard your voice, and as for that FBI agent—Grace Ashcroft, I'm not entirely sure."

After Leon's explanation, you choose to stay quiet. There's no need for you to embarrass yourself again in front of Leon, right? Leon checks his watch, and when he looks up, you're staring at him with stars in your eyes. Leon is even more beautiful in person. His hair looks so soft and healthy for someone who bleaches his hair often. God, the stubble… You love the scratchiness of it when you cupped his face in your hands.

Leon doesn't say anything; instead, he lets you do what makes you happy and stay sane. His eyes are blue, but they're not nearly as blue as it was when he was in his early twenties. Maybe they're still the same blue, but you would need to get a closer look at it—if he catches your drift.

"I love how you kept your signature hairstyle after all these years…" You murmur, leaning side to side as your eyes continue taking in every detail of him.

"Now it's your turn to explain to me what 'isekai' means," Leon comments, crossing his arms over his chest.

You quickly glance at Leon's bulging biceps before looking back at him innocently. His biceps looked at you first, so it's only fair for you to look at them in return. "Where do I start…" You trail off, tapping on your chin.

So you start explaining to Leon what isekai means, giving him a rundown on it, its origins, and how there's a handful of animated shows (specifically anime) that have this concept. Leon is intrigued, but also confused. The look of confusion on Leon's handsome face is cute. His eyebrows are furrowing, his head tilting to the side while not taking his eyes off of you for one bit.

You subconsciously reach forward and gently press on the space between his eyebrows, smoothing the creases between his brows. Man, even Leon has soft skin for someone who goes through hell. You meet Leon's eyes, causing you to quickly retract your hand before apologizing sheepishly.

"After explaining to me what 'isekai' meant, it makes sense. Is there a way for you to return to your world?" Leon asks.

You frown dramatically. "Aw, you want to return me to sender already? I'm hurt." You joke, clutching your chest playfully. "I thought you would enjoy my company after going through the horrors of having to deal with Victor Gideon caressing you lovingly."

You turn around and face the wall, pretending to be offended by what he asked. Leon shudders at the memory of Victor's fingers brushing through his hair, fingers ghosting over the dark blotches on his neck after lowering the collar of his shirt. That is not a pleasant memory, and he certainly wishes he could erase it.

"Your presence is a breath of fresh air. I'm merely asking because I don't think you would want to stay and deal with what's waiting for us," Leon replies, reaching forward and grabbing your forearm and turning you around to face him.

You can just melt in his arms right now. You've imagined this very moment, but in a different scenario. Leon Kennedy grabs your arm to stop you from leaving, gazing at you with those dazzling blue eyes of his, his eyebrows knitting together as he pleads for you not to leave. And the way he says it? It'll be soft, making you weak at the knees.

"By the way, you never introduced yourself. You know my name, but I don't know yours." Leon adds, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Your eyes widen. "Oh, crap! You're right! How could I forget?" You smack your forehead before introducing yourself to Leon. After telling Leon your first and last name, Leon stares at you while muttering your full name to himself. Heat rushes to your face the longer he does it.

After what feels like forever, Leon smiles and nods. "Your name suits you. I like it. Your parents must've put a lot of thought and love into naming you."

You stare at Leon, mouth agape. Why did he have to say that? Leon raises an eyebrow at you, smiling in amusement. Without saying anything, you cover your face with both hands as heat continues rushing to your face. This man can effortlessly make you blush like a schoolgirl.

You groan behind your hands. "What are you doing to me?! It's not fair. You know you have this effect on me! Damn you, Leon Scott Kennedy!" You whine.

If only you could evaporate right now. Maybe Leon was up to something when he asked if there was a way for you to return to your world, because how much longer can you handle being in the presence of Leon S. Kennedy? The only thing you hear is laughter coming from Leon—his laugh is soft, very gentle. You peek between your fingers to see him shaking his head, a wide smile on his face as he gazes at the wooden floor.

Realization hits you. You're so fucked. There's not a single man in your life—real and fictional—who has made you feel this way before. Until Leon S. Kennedy happened. You love every version of Leon, but there's something about forty-nine-year-old Leon Kennedy. Aside from his looks, there's something that makes you feel so warm and gooey inside when he shows up on your screen.

You look at an imaginary camera, hands falling on your lap before sighing. "I'm so fucked." You whisper, shaking your head in disbelief. "Okay, let's kill some zombies and get the hell out of here."

You push yourself off the ground, feeling around for the so-called goose egg Leon felt on your head, while Leon gets off the ground and brushes the dust off his ass. Leon grabs your wrist, preventing you from finding this goose egg. You look at Leon, frowning.

He wags his pointer finger at you, shaking his head. "Don't search for it."

"Fine." You mumble, lowering your arm, but Leon doesn't let go of your wrist.

You blink at him, looking back and forth from your hands to Leon's face. Leon doesn't say anything and starts looking for an exit with you in tow, his hand still wrapped around your wrist. You will take that as a win because Leon is holding your hand, kind of! You peek at Leon and wiggle your wrist to hold his hand.

You and Leon soon come across the familiar metal cabinet that's blocking the entrance. Your heart nearly sinks into the pit of your stomach when you realize what you're about to face soon. This is strange; you could've sworn that you moved the cabinet before ending the game right there.

"Step back. I don't want you to get hurt." Leon says, gently nudging you to the side, and starts lifting the cabinet.

You press your lips into a thin line and cover your mouth, watching his back muscles and biceps flex under the fabric of his shirt. Leon grunts and starts lifting the metal cabinet. You bite your lower lip, enticed by what you're seeing and hearing.

After a few minutes, Leon successfully moves the cabinet out of the way. He fixes his shirt before pulling out his gun from the holster. Leon turns to you to see you staring at him in a daze, earning an eyebrow raise and smirk from him. You quickly snap out of it, acting like you weren't ogling him just now.

"So, do I follow you into that room or do I wait out here until you finish your, uh, duty?" You ask, rubbing the back of your neck.

You don't know how much has changed since your sudden arrival in this universe, but you're hoping it's not much change, but who knows?

Leon holds his hand out and gestures for you to follow him. "I'm not leaving you behind, are you crazy?"

"For you? Yes." Is your automatic response. You slap your hand over your mouth and squeeze your eyes shut. "I mean, let's go and get this over with!" You say, grabbing his hand and walking through the entrance with Leon in tow.

You're always amazed by your ability to humiliate yourself. This has got to be a new record for you. Once you and Leon step through that door, everything shifts. The atmosphere, the mood, the air, and the sound. You hear squelching coming from the other side of the room.

Think of someone chewing with their mouth open, but multiply that by a thousand. That's how loud it is in person. The squelching is accompanied by deep rumbles. You and Leon trade looks with each other before slowly making your way through the room, making sure Leon picks up ammo for his guns.

Leon stops in his tracks, holding his arm out in front of you before looking over his shoulder at you. "You're going to have to trust me on this, alright?" Leon murmurs.

You look at him, confused. "What are you planning? Should I be worried?" You whisper.

Leon doesn't respond and continues walking towards where the disturbing sound is coming from. You swallow the lump in your throat when you eye the grotesque creature towering over a dead body, feasting on its rotting flesh. The smell is rancid, making your stomach churn.

You grip the back of Leon's shirt, lightly tugging it. "How can you handle a smell like that when you're dealing with these things?" You mutter to him, tempted to bury your face into his back to block out the smell of decomposition and blood.

"When you're constantly out on the field dealing with these things, you'd get used to it."

You raise an eyebrow at his response. "But you recoiled when you caught a whiff of Victor's breath." You point out.

Leon snorts. "Smelling rotting flesh and bad breath are two different things. Besides, who knows how long it's been since he has brushed his teeth?"

"Can't argue with that."

You continue following Leon around the room while he collects ammo for his guns, occasionally peeking from behind him to get a look at the mutated being. For something that large, you're shocked that it hasn't heard you and Leon walking around the vicinity.

"Do you trust me?" Leon asks suddenly, turning towards you.

You falter. "Uh, yes, I do trust you—even though we met not long ago. I'm surprised you trust me despite the things I put you through." You refer to your failed aiming and parrying before you were isekai'd into Resident Evil Requiem.

Leon chuckles, shaking his head. "Of course, I trust you. You're the only one who kept me sane at the start of this shit show." Leon replies.

Leon turns around and aims his gun at the ravenous, mutated creature and shoots it in the head with his shotgun. You flinch at the sound, gripping his shirt hard as you watch the creature stop munching on the corpse and turn towards your and Leon's direction.

Fueled by rage and anger, the chunky zombie roars. "Food! Food! Food!" He growls, getting ready to charge towards you and Leon.

"Hope I'm not next," Leon mutters.

Before you can say anything, Leon quickly turns around, grabs you by the waist, and tosses you over his shoulders before making a run for it. Upside down, you wrap your arms around his waist, whimpering as the monster gets closer to you and Leon. You certainly didn't sign up for this when you got isekai'd, but hey, you didn't sign up to be isekai'd in general!

"Leon! He's getting closer!" You whimper, patting his lower back.

Leon loads his shotgun, making sharp turns to avoid getting grabbed by the ravenous creature. Leon picks up a med injector from a wall that was broken by the monster, along with the shotgun shells and handgun ammo. Leon quickly grabs onto the ladder and climbs up. You nearly flip over if it weren't for Leon's quick reflexes and your iron grip around his waist.

"Are you sure I'm not getting in the way?" You ask, lifting your head to look at Leon. "I feel like I'm adding more weight on you. Metaphorically and literally."

Leon pats the back of your thighs. "You're fine, you're not getting in the way or adding weight on me," Leon reassures you.

Leon quickly puts you down on the platform, fixes his gear, and gestures for you to get on his shoulders by squatting in front of you. You climb over Leon, stomach resting on his shoulders, while your arms are wrapped around his waist. Leon wraps one arm over the back of your thighs, checking to see where the mutated monster is.

On cue, the chunky mutated monster, which you found out is named Timothy from the note Leon read to you, appears at the bottom of the platform. Timothy growls and tries reaching for you and Leon, but Leon shoots him in the face with his shotgun, but Timothy's not phased by it.

Timothy starts climbing up the platform, causing you to involuntarily flinch. "Leon…" You plead, patting Leon's thighs. "We need to move, or else we will be on Timothy's menu!"

Leon tightens his grip on your legs. "Brace yourself."

Before you can process what Leon's doing, you suddenly feel airborne. Your heart is in your throat as you cling to Leon for dear life. Leon lands on the ground with a grunt and shoots Timothy a few more times before making a run for it, loading his shotgun.

The chase lasted five more minutes because Timothy was very motivated to get both you and Leon. Finally, Timothy stops, and blood starts spewing out of the holes and gashes on his body that he received from the shotgun shells and Leon's hatchet.

While Timothy is gushing all over the place, Leon walks to the other end of the room to collect extra items that are lying around before putting you back on the ground once Timothy explodes. You brush off your clothes and turn to Leon, propping your hands on your hips and watching him reload his shotgun before switching to his other handgun.

"You know, when I said that I wanted to be manhandled by you, this isn't what I imagined." You comment.

Leon shakes his head, chuckling. "Don't worry, there will be plenty of time for that. Come on, let's get out of here." Leon gestures for you to follow him as he walks towards the door where the rotting corpse—Timothy's final meal—is lying.

You stare at Leon, mouth agape. What does he mean by that?! Wait, Leon is probably implying other boss fights that are waiting for both you and Leon. You really need to get your head out of the gutter. You follow behind Leon, shuddering when you step in the pool of blood that was once Timothy.

Leon grabs the hand grenade from the puddle of blood and continues walking to the exit. Finally, you and Leon will get to leave this place and face more horrors waiting for both of you. Leon unlatches the door and pushes it open, occasionally looking over his shoulder to make sure you're still following him.

You and Leon come across a wooden closet with a warped door. Leon walks to it, grabs his hatchet, lodges it between the doors, and starts prying them open. You bite your bottom lip, watching his biceps flex as he tries to open it. Once the door bursts open and Leon grabs whatever is inside, you look away, trying to act like you weren't drooling over him.

"Ready to go?" Leon asks, turning to you as he puts the mod on his handgun.

You nod, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Yeah! Are you ready to go?" You ask, looking at him from the corner of your eyes.

"Of course, I am. I'm always ready." Leon says softly, walking past you while gently nudging you to follow him by patting your lower back.

You bite the inside of your cheek, screaming internally. You really need to get yourself together because you're acting like a cat in heat. Leon pushes the red button, and the attic opens; the metal ladder slides down, and Leon starts climbing down.

Once Leon gets off the ladder, you start climbing down, shuddering when you see the amount of blood in the office. The whole time while you're climbing down the ladder, Leon's keeping an eye out while holding out his hands to catch you just in case you slip. You step into the puddle of infected blood, groaning with disgust.

"You'd get used to it," Leon says. "Come on, we need to find Victor Gideon's office."

You follow Leon out of the Chairman's office, on edge about whether zombies are roaming around or not. You don't think there's any zombies roaming around cause you killed most of them when you were playing as Grace. You come across another warped closet outside of the Chairman's office, and you sit back and watch Leon do his thing.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" Leon asks, turning to you after taking the handgun ammo and shotgun shells.

You look at Leon, flabbergasted. "Wha—is a lady not allowed to admire a total eye candy in front of her?" You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "I have had enough of your teasing! Let's find Victor's office." You stick your nose in the air and walk towards the bar and lounge room.

Leon pinches the bridge of his nose, chuckling. "You truly do make this more entertaining than it should be."

The minute you walk into the bar and lounge room, a zombie in a white button-up starts contorting violently while screaming in agony. You walk backwards frantically, bumping into Leon as the zombie gets off the ground and his head morphs into something more horrifying.

"This place is infested," Leon mutters, shaking his head, and aims his gun at the blister head that's running towards both of you. Leon shoots, and the bullet penetrates the zombie's head, causing it to burst, and blood spews everywhere like a water fountain.

You sigh, turning to Leon. "Can you teach me how to shoot one day? You know, in case I have to fight for both of us."

Leon chuckles, shaking his head. "Of course. I can show you when we come across another zombie."

You and Leon continue searching for Victor's office. Instead of having you walk behind or in front of him, Leon makes sure you're by his side at all times because you'd never know when a zombie will sneak up from behind or jump out of nowhere.

As you're both walking up the stairs to the third floor of the sanatorium, you and Leon hear a faint beeping and gurgling from a zombie. Leon hands you his handgun and gestures for you to follow him quietly. Once the zombie is in your and Leon's line of sight, Leon quickly adjusts the gun in your hand, angling your arms a certain way.

"Make sure to have a firm grasp on the gun so it doesn't recoil and hit you in the face," Leon murmurs, his chest pressing up against your back. "Okay, now, you can either shoot the zombie or the red propane tank. I would go for the explosive canister because it's quicker, and who knows how many shots it'll take to kill the zombie."

Taking Leon's advice, you point the handgun towards the red gas tank and shoot. The red canister in the zombie's hand explodes, taking the zombie out with it. You tilt your head up and see Leon's smile as you lower the gun.

Leon pats your shoulders, "Not bad."

"But not good either." You pout dramatically. "Okay, let's go kick Victor Gideon's ass, Leon!" You grab his wrist and drag him up the stairs to another warped door—much to your delight.

Leon shakes his head as he pulls out his hatchet and starts prying the doors open. Once Leon successfully opens the door, you and Leon enter the room and look around to see many bodies with no heads. You immediately latch yourself against Leon, trembling as Leon picks up the paper on the ground.

"Burst their heads if you want to survive."

On cue, you and Leon hear the familiar screams of agony close to the entrance where you and Leon came. This is not what you expected when you got isekai'd into Resident Evil Requiem. Leon shields you from the blister head and starts shooting the head over and over until the zombie finally dies. He leads to the corner of the room where the other zombie lies and takes the shotgun shells and handgun ammo from the vase.

"Do you trust me?" Leon asks, loading his shotgun and handgun.

You nod. "Of course, I do." You answer.

"Good, cause you're going to need to trust me on this." Leon leans down and tosses you over his shoulders just when another blister head bursts through the door to the meeting room.

You squeeze your eyes shut and cling to Leon's torso as he shoots the blister heads and storms the meeting room, where another blister head is getting ready to charge at Leon. This is going to be a long night, and the worst thing is that you're not even sure if you'll return to your world after all this.

Note: I love how in almost every Leon fics I've typed out, I would be kicking my feet and twirling my hair cause I'm having the time of my life typing Leon fics. I completed insanity mode for RE9, and I feel like I've been through hell and back; I finished that game one minute faster than the standard classic mode, somehow. Every time I write a new Leon fic, I replay RE9 because I miss Leon and want to see him tied up. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3! Read more of my works on my Grand Masterlist, which contains every masterlist I have created! | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories there, too, but who knows? You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like, as a way to show support! ^^ Join the Discord to get future fic updates and connect with other readers, maybe?:) Raccoon City Sanctuary

[slowerghost]

going into a smut tag and finding a post of someone ranting about how theyre tired of seeing sex everywhere. if you dont care and youre just ranting why are you putting it in the fucking tag about sex

[toeatagod]

tomorrow, same time?

It was always like this. Three slow knocks against your door. Sometimes a little early, sometimes several minutes late—but always close enough to midnight that you had formed a routine around it.

You never bothered checking the door anymore.

You already knew who it was.

notes: explicit smut, gender-neutral reader + no pronouns, friends with benefits, praise & degredation, impact play (face slapping), face-fucking, jealous leon for the soul aha ha ha ha (help me) + wc: 3.0k

a/n (from march): i have not written anything like this since the pandemic (referring to both the smut and writing in 2nd person pov), please ignore the errors. i am so sorry i was ovulating all over the place (❁´◡`❁) — originally posted on ao3!

LEON’S VOICE IS QUIET, ALMOST THOUGHTFUL, like he’s still deciding whether the situation in front of him is amusing or mildly disappointing. “You said you’d be good for me.”

You leaned back against the kitchen counter, arms folded loosely across your torso. Intentional or not, the deed caused the older man’s eyes to briefly settle on your chest, before flicking back up to meet your eyes. The overhead light hummed softly, casting the apartment in a dull yellow glow that made everything look a little too still, a little too intimate for a confrontation. Outside, the city had settled into a quiet lull where traffic thinned out, crowds dispersed, and streetlights grew dimmer.

“Why would you lie to me?”

Midnight had come and gone about ten minutes ago.

Right on schedule, three slow knocks had sounded against your door—steady, familiar, impossible to mistake. And right on cue, Leon had stepped into your apartment like he always did, jacket slung casually over one shoulder, hair slightly damp as if he had bothered to make himself look presentable before gracing you with his presence.

The thought made your knees grow weak, but you stood your ground.

But tonight he hadn’t walked straight in.

He stopped by the threshold, blue eyes drifting past you as he took in the room with quiet attention. The second glass on the coffee table. The half-empty bottle of whiskey. The unfamiliar jacket draped lazily over the back of a chair as if it belonged there. The stinging scent of another man’s perfume.

He’s leaning against the opposite counter, mockingly imitating your crossed arms, gaze fixed on you with that same look—half amused, half curious.

“I didn’t lie,” you say.

Leon lifts a brow. “No?”

“No.”

His eyes darted back toward the living room again, where the evidence shamelessly sat in plain sight.

“You never said I couldn’t have company,” you add, noticing his wandering gaze.

For a moment, the apartment falls silent again. The refrigerator hums softly behind you, the only sound keeping the tension at bay. Leon exhales slowly through his nose, the faintest smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

“Where is he?” Leon asks casually.

“Gone.” Ironic.

“Mm.” His attention returns to you, steady and unblinking. “Kicked him out pretty fast, huh?”

You huff out a quiet laugh, though it sounds a little thinner than intended. “You don’t sound surprised.”

“I’m not.” Leon replies.

But the way he studies you suggests otherwise—head tilted slightly, as if he’s waiting for the rest of the story whether you intend to tell it or not. You sigh and rub the back of your neck, stopping yourself before you gave one more guilty glance at the whiskey abandoned atop the coffee table.

“He just…” you hesitate, searching for the right word, “talked too much.”

His mouth twitches. “Yeah?”

“…Yeah.”

You lean your hip against the counter again, gesturing vaguely with a hand. “Kept asking questions, was nervous about everything. Like he was going to mess something up. Apologized for stupid things.”

Leon hums quietly. “Must’ve scared him off.”

You chuckle. “And he was—” your voice lowers a little, almost thoughtful now, “younger. Early twenties, probably.”

“Huh.”

For a moment, the apartment goes eerily quiet. Leon then chuckles under his breath.

“You got a type now?”

You roll your eyes. “That’s… not what I meant.”

“Sure.”

You frown at the familiar glint of pride in his eyes. “What?”

Leon’s grin widens just a little—a crooked, self-satisfied expression he wears when he knows something you haven’t yet. “You kicked him out.”

“Yeah.”

“Because he was nervous.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And inexperienced.” Leon crosses his arms and leans back beside you, incredibly smug about something.

Your stomach drops. It takes exactly two seconds for the realization to hit.

“…You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Leon was clearly amused now. “You walked right into that one.”

“Did not.”

“Did.”

You scrub a hand down your face with a groan. “You’re enjoying this way too much, Kennedy.”

“Am I?” His grin returns, softer now, but no less smug. He pushes off the counter and takes a step closer.

Then another.

The distance between you shrinks quickly, and the air suddenly feels warmer, heavier, dominated by his scent. As if the room itself shifted to accommodate the older man’s presence.

But you were stubborn. You try not to react. Try not to focus on the way he moves—loose, confident, unhurried, as if he already knew exactly how this conversation was going to end. As if he already knew you like the back of his hand.

He stops a step away from you. Close enough that you can see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw. Close enough that the familiar scent of his cologne settles around you comfortably. His gaze drifts briefly toward the other room again, enjoying the way you avoid his eyes like he caught you in the middle of a crime. He then reaches out, two gloved fingers gently hooking under your chin, tilting your face upward as he basked in your shame. The contact is light, but it’s enough to send that cursed cesspool of butterflies swarm about in your stomach.

He seems to notice the shift in your expression, the teasing edge in his voice held back by just a little. “Rough night?”

You shrug. “Something like that.”

For a moment, he just looks at you—that steady, unreadable gaze lingering longer than usual.

“Well,” Leon exhales quietly, straightening as he steps away from you and reaches for the whiskey bottle on the counter. His fingers curl easily around the neck, giving you vivid flashbacks of those same hands adorning your throat just right. “Good news for you.”

He glances at the label, turning it carefully in his hand, and mutters something under his breath about not wanting decent liquor to go to waste. You watch him pour the contents; the amber liquid glints in the dim kitchen light as it settles, slow and steady, until the glass is half full.

You open your mouth to answer, but the words die somewhere down your throat as the glass you’re supposed to be drinking from lands in front of you with a solid thunk. Not hard enough to be rough, but firm enough that it makes you jump slightly. It’s not harsh, but there was a quiet command in it all the same. Leon rests his hand flat against the counter, the other still loosely around the neck of the bottle.

“You won’t have to settle for the rookie tonight.”

He doesn’t bother with the other glass. Instead, he lifts the bottle again and tips it back for a long, unhurried swing, like the burn of it no longer bothers him in the slightest.

You try not to stare—really, you do—but the motion draws your attention, anyway. The tilt of his head, the way his throat moves as he swallows, the flex of muscle beneath the collar of his shirt. The kitchen light catches the line of his jaw as he lowers the bottle again, and you quickly look away before he notices. Or, at least you hope you did.

Leon exhales quietly after the drink, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth before setting the bottle down again. “And if I didn’t know any better… I’d say you were trying to make me jealous.”

“Yeah, trying.” You let out a short laugh. “You aren’t. If I really wanted to, I’d have to try harder than that.”

The way his gaze lingers on you after that gives his intentions away—he’s pleased, very much so, and the thought of being generously rewarded for simply knowing him so well already made little waves of electricity dance up your spine.

“Oh, I’m sure you would.”

“Hm, I quite like this view.”

His voice is toned down to a sultry and pleasant hum, as if he were draping you in velvet, knowing just the right buttons to push when it comes to leaving your mind spinning, your heart thudding against your ribcage, and your boxers thoroughly soiled by the time he bids you farewell. The irony isn’t lost on you—the man above you speaks with a tone of such reverence, one that would put all scripture to shame; yet wraps his calloused hand around your throat like sin, blasphemies leaving his pretty lips.

“Are you proud of yourself?” The worn leather of his gloves would undoubtedly leave welts by the time they leave your neck, but you couldn’t care less, not when he’s squeezing your delicate flesh so perfectly. He could feel your pitiful attempt to swallow beneath his palm, and it earned you a faint smirk from him. “I bet you are.”

A voiceless whine escapes you as his other gloved hand snakes between your legs—he knows what he’s doing, teasing you with the unusual roughness, taking advantage of the friction—which dangles helplessly as Leon holds you down against the cold marble of your kitchen counter. By the time he reaches the hem of your trousers, he releases your neck to busy himself with the fabric, leaving you to chase after oxygen alone. His smirk deepens as he steps back just enough to take the entire scene in.

“You thought chasing after someone else would satisfy you?” His voice is low, intimate, the kind of tone that makes it impossible not to lean in just to hear him better. “Thought you could make do with some half-assed brat?”

Your mouth instinctively opens to protest, but he silences you with a hand across the face. The area stings, blooming with fresh heat as the harshness makes your cheek swell. Tiny tears prickled the corner of your eyes, your lower lip twitching from the adrenaline, your hand slowly coming up to feel the evidence of his mark for yourself and smirking up at his audacity in return. Leon doesn’t flinch. Instead, his sharp blue eyes glint with quiet satisfaction, as if accepting your wordless invitation of challenging him.

“Look at you,” he says softly, letting the words linger with mock sincerity, “all that effort, all that pretending… for what?” He forcefully lifts your chin to meet his eyes once again. “You’ll come crawling back to me. You always do.”

There’s weight to his words, intimate and commanding, that presses in from all sides. You swallow, heat rising in your chest, caught somewhere between frustration, longing, and awe. His presence is overwhelming—all confidence, control, ease—and for a moment, you feel entirely exposed and entirely at his mercy. Usually, an apologetic kiss would follow after, perhaps a few soothing caresses along your face, or even murmured praises against your neck if you were lucky, but he coldly stands up instead, leaving you high and dry. Though dry would be the last thing you’d be describing yourself with right now.

Leon has no shame in admitting he adores you on your knees. It would be no overstatement if he thought it was the perfect, most fitting place for you to be. Plus, you’ve had your fun pushing him around in the past. It would only be fair for him to have his fun too.

Your swift obedience, kneeling before him as he leans back against the counter, earns you a small hum of contentment, the added weight of leather on his hand resting atop your head as he guides you close. You knew what he wanted—what he needed—and you eagerly busied yourself with his belt and button, sliding the zipper just enough to free the half-hard strain against his underwear.

Reaching for his waistband, you tug his boxers down along with his jeans, leaning back a little as his member sprung free from its confines, slowly pumping him a few times and feeling him twitch under your loose grasp. Your eyes trailed up, from the fading happy trail, his heaving chest tight against the fabric of his top, and the exposed length of his neck where he had his head thrown back—his Adam’s apple bobbing repeatedly amidst his attempts of muffling the grunts of pleasure escaping his lips. All semblance of embarrassment dissipated in a heartbeat as soon as you confirmed you weren’t the only one affected after all.

It takes far too much effort than Leon would like to admit as he fixed his gaze downward, his palm resting on the back of your head as he watches his body give him away. He scoffs, already channeling the frustration to you. “Open your mouth for me, will you?”

The immediate compliance causes him to hiss, which melts into a small groan. Lips agape, you bare to him the never-ending abyss of your throat. The mere sight already makes him twitch again, pre-cum beading even further on his tip as he recalls the times he’s thoroughly wrecked you in the past—walls twitching and constricting around his length as you tried not to choke or gag.

“And here I thought you were so good for me.” He taps the tip against your mouth and letting the wetness gloss over your bottom lip and your spit to smear along the head.

The sudden thought of another man using this same mouth causes a bitter unpleasantness to rise in the back of his throat.

“What a fucking shame.”

His length sinks into your mouth, the tip forcing its way through the measly barrier your poor throat creates. The sensation is unlike anything you have felt prior, perhaps it was because he hadn’t prepared you for it earlier, or that he hasn’t fucked your throat raw from sheer frustration in ages; but one thing was sure—you’d be waking up the next morning with a tender throat and your voice stolen from you. The urge to gag hits you at once, and tears well up in the corners of your eyes again. A sensation you had to get used to for the rest of the night, it seemed.

Fingers laced into your locks as he swiftly guided you to take more of him—or at least try to—inch by inch, while he watches your struggle in awe, your pretty lips gradually growing swollen from being rubbed raw against the underside of his dick. He always stared, enjoying the sheen of wetness from your spit and his fluids leaving their mess on you, and how his cock stretched your lips just right. If you could throw a fit, you would, and he knew. It’s why he messes with you even more, tightening his grip even further and sinking deeper into your throat until your nose is pressed flat against coarse hair.

“Now where’d all that brattitude go? Hmm?” He chuckles, accompanied by the occasional gasps and hitches in his breath. His fingers hover near your face, as if his decision to card them through your hair faltered halfway, instead settling with tracing lightly along the shell of your ear. The tenderness is mocking, yet that fact only makes your aching knees quiver more in pleasure, leaning obediently against his hand until his warmth presses against your tear-streaked cheek.

“Batting your eyelashes prettily like that won’t get you out of this, you know,” Leon mocks you once again. “You’ll have to apologize better than that.”

Your fingers curl from where they lightly rested on the rough fabric of the jeans hanging low on his hips, eventually submitting completely as you finally work your tongue along his underside, recalling his favorite pattern by instinct and lapping at the prominent vein that gets him undone so easily. You roll your tongue along the tip, coaxing more of his heady essence whenever you pulled back, stroking just tight enough with your fingers whenever you briefly paused to find your breath.

“Finally using your mouth to good use, huh? That’s it. Wider.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, but do your best at relaxing your jaw, feeling him buck a bit too eagerly into the shallow warmth of your mouth. Taking advantage of this, you wrap your fingers around the base and jerk off what he left behind, causing a string of curses to fly right out of him. Perhaps along with a few moans you were sure only partners who usually took a more submissive role in bed could make.

“Bet you—mmh—fucking like this, huh?” His tongue clicked in disappointment, though the moans that followed seemed to dilute the effect. “So pathetic. So desperate that you’d let a mere rookie fuck your throat like this, huh? Is that it?” You can’t respond, not when his dick’s so deep in your mouth. “Poor thing, can’t even… fffuck… speak.” The lack of genuine remorse only turns you on more, and he catches that split-second where your eyes roll back into your skull, a scoff of disbelief escaping him at the sheer depravity.

Leon’s hips continue their relentless motion of rocking back and forth, forcing his length in and out of you with almost no consideration whatsoever of how raw he leaves you every time he pulls away, slamming back in before you can even register the pain. He can only imagine the consequences, the haphazard excuses you’d have to make with your lost voice, for your friends and acquaintances who’d surely never truly believe you one bit.

His fingers tighten on your hair, a muffled sound escaping you as searing pain stings your scalp. “Almost… there… you can take it, right?”

You know he wasn’t actually asking, still giving him a response of some sort, a vague hum that he couldn’t quite put his finger on—was it helpless surrender or eager compliance? He doesn’t bother with the details, he would’ve done what he wanted with you, anyway. Leon groans, long, unsteady, half-muffled against the teeth biting his lower lip, cursing your name in a chant that lingered on his tongue. Just like how his flavor would linger on yours for a while. His release coats your tongue as you eventually manage to swallow that viscous essence, jerking him weakly into completion around your loosening fingers as both of you stilled for a while, a piercing white noise dulling all sound in your ears, until you come to with blue eyes staring you down with faint concern.

“You okay?” He asked hesitantly in between heavy pants.

You almost beg him to do it again.

liked what you just read? show your support with a like/reblog or kudos on ao3! (❁´◡`❁)

[altforleon]

Literally made an alt so I could reblog

So fucking good. Leon would be so mean to us if he knew we wanted it and could take it, I love seeing this side of him and jealousy?? My favorite thing