angel 𝄞⋆.𑣲˚

probably listening to kali uchis and daydreaming ‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹

[dolliestmelody]

welcome to my digital diary ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

hellooo !! ♪ ༘⋆ i write fanfic that i am the target audience for :p if other people like it too then that's awesome >.< !! ♡‧₊˚

i am very hyper-feminine so i write 'reader' that way too, beware if that's something you don't like :p

see ya around! lots of love,

- 𝒜 ♡

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 - requests are currently open!

do not steal and re-upload my writing anywhere else

˖˚⊹ ꣑ৎ‎ navigation

rules | masterlist

[starberrymatcha]

DI!leon having you spread out on his lap

tags : nsfw, pussy slapping, fingering, slight choking, dirty talk

imagine leon having you on his lap with your legs spread wide against his. youre bucking your hips, trying to grind on his palm as he inserts his middle and ring finger inside your tight, wet cunt. he pushes it and pulls back, the palm of his hand hitting your clit causing you to jolt from now and then.

youre moaning and writhing in his arms, you have one hand on his arm that is around your shoulder. he's keeping you tight and locked against his chest as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

"taking my fingers like a good little slut".

"youre a good girl, arent you?".

"my very good girl who just cant help herself but to grind her messy pussy in my hand".

you cried out when he moved his fingers faster in you, the wet sounds and your heavy breathing filling the living room. you claw and grip at his arm as your hips frantically move against his hand causing him to chuckle against your ear.

"fucking desperate, arent you?". leon said as his thumb moved on your clit to rub it in circles. your toes curled as your back arched on his chest while you groaned with your eyes clenched shut. "keep clenching that pussy tight, sweetheart. gonna get you ready for my cock".

you cursed loudly when he suddenly pulled out his fingers and landed a loud smack on your wet pussy. you brokenly moan out his name with a quiver on your lips and leon swears that its the hottest thing ever. he kissed your head before hitting your pussy again causing you to buck up on his hand.

"look how wet you are, all this for me?". leon smirked when he lifted his hand that was smacking your pussy. liquid strings across his fingers and you blush at how he plays with it. "open up for me, baby".

your mouth opened and he brought his fingers inside your mouth causing you to moan loudly. your taste was filling your mouth that you couldnt help but moan while he's letting you suck on his fingers that are coated with your love juices.

"my good girl". leon groaned when he felt you swirl your tongue on his fingers, just like what you do on his cock. he slowly then pulled his fingers away, saliva connecting onto it and he's spreading it in your lips while you pant.

the arm on your shoulder then moved to wrap his hand on your neck causing you to let out a shuddering breath, mouth opening and closing as you try to catch your breath. he gave it a soft squeeze while his other hand pats your mound.

"ready for my cock, baby?". leon runs his nose on your neck to your cheeks while you nodded your repeatedly and one of your hand went to his wrist that is still petting your mound gently.

"then, lets go to the bedroom and let me ravage you tonight".

love juices 😞💓 i think its cute tbh ahahhahha also man what the hell, i couldve wrote it longer but im pretty sure i was starting to feel some tingles lol

credits to the photos and divider!

[dolliestmelody]

twirling my hair lalalalala

[n0turg1rlfr1end]

[dolliestmelody]

cooking something up for mr kennedy muahahahahaha….. ( •̀ ᗜ •́ ) he’s all i’ve thought about for so long now, i’m going insane !!!! need to chew on his arms

[slowerghost]

hold your breath

leon kennedy x fem!reader

warnings — 18+ NSFW / MDNI smut — fingering, f receiving oral, unprotected sex, dirty talk, "good girl," leon eats you out in a semi-public bathroom lol, jealous reader, jealous leon, reader tries to piss off leon on purpose but it's all good in the end dw. sending lewds i guess?

♪ coeur d'alene by movements [spotify] [youtube]

this was a request someone sent in, for this prompt list, and then i got carried away. i made it a post on its own just because it's so damn long, lmfao. prompts:

2. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” 80. “i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know.”

Home. 

The message comes as you’re tearing through your closet, trying to decide on an outfit for the event tonight. Your stomach flutters at the familiar contact name, and you feel a little giddy as you type out a response. 

ETA?

They’re keeping me in quarantine for a few hours to be safe. I’m okay. But I won’t see you until tonight, then. At the governor’s ball.

You’re a little disappointed you won’t get to reunite in private, instead having to keep up niceties at a federal ball. What you really want to do is jump his bones. Among other, more wholesome things.

Can’t wait. I miss you.

I miss you like hell. See you soon.

:)

Leon’s never been a big texter, he prefers to hear your voice, so the short responses aren’t surprising, but the smiley face makes you laugh. You place your phone back on your nightstand and take a deep breath.

It takes you about two hours to finally decide on an outfit. It’s a dress Leon’s never seen you in; from the back of your closet that you’ve dressed up with heels. The dress is a bit more revealing than you usually go for, but it’s cocktail attire, so it didn’t need to be too prudishly put together. And you’d be lying if you weren’t trying to draw Leon’s attention on purpose. 

By the time you finish your make-up, you’re running around your apartment like a frantic chicken, putting in your missing earring and slipping on your heels, while also having a piece of toast in your mouth. Those little horderves always left you starving. You had learned a long time ago to have a snack beforehand.

By the time you make it to the venue, you’re a teensy bit late, but you manage to slip in without issue. Everyone’s already mingling, so it shouldn’t be a big deal. In reality, you’re really only looking for one person tonight.

You scan the crowd for your favorite blonde head of hair, and soon land on him at the bar, ordering a drink, already deep in conversation with another agent. You decide to not interrupt him and wait until he’s finished to approach. You busy yourself by getting some water, and hole yourself up in a corner to avoid any stray people looking to chat. You’re not in the mood to talk to anyone except your boyfriend tonight, to be honest. The sight of him, in a crisp black button up and perfectly tight trousers no less, is burning a hole in your chest with need.

You watch as the agent he’s speaking with slowly retreats and joins another rung of people, leaving Leon alone, finally. You weave through the crowd toward him, trying your best not to run. It’s only when you make it through to the clearing by the bar do you see he’s already been caught up by another man, this one more tight-collared than the agent before. You sigh and retreat to a nearby wall. Waiting yet again.

Leon’s body language is much more closed off than before, nodding and politely listening to whatever he was saying. His eyes are drifting around the room as he zones out, and eventually they fall over you, and then shoot back to your form, leaning against the wall with crossed legs. His eyes trail over you hungrily, and it goes straight to your core. He gives you a small smile, a nod of one minute. You bite your lip to hide your smile.

The wave of excitement turns into something close to dread whenever two more politicians, clearly friends of the stuffy guy already talking to Leon, surround the two. They move to a different corner of the room, and you want to scream. But you leave it alone. Maybe it’ll just be another minute, you repeat. Like a sad mantra. You grab a flute of champagne and down it like it’s a shot.

Leon seems to forget about you. Minutes become an hour, and you’re still left alone, now three champagne glasses deep, and stewing in your annoyance. He’s with an agent who’s telling a story to some buttoned up men who have never lifted a hand in their life, but he doesn’t look miserable. You try to be positive, Leon’s actually socializing, but it’s hard when all you’ve wanted for a month is a scrap of his attention; his eyes on you and a trickle of dumb jokes charming you like it’s the first time you’ve met. You miss him hopelessly. And the fact that you’re so desperate makes you even more frustrated.

There’s a few more things you can try.

You sneak off to the bathroom. Lucky for you, it’s a single stall. Before you lose your nerve, you’re pulling out your phone and snapping a photo of yourself in the mirror, making sure to lean over so the view of your breasts is just short of a full shot of your bare chest. You send it with no message attached.

As you leisurely exit the bathroom, you try not to stare daggers at Leon’s head as he checks his phone. You can see him look down, pause for a long, tortuous moment, and take a long sip of his whiskey. You type out a follow-up.

I’m not wearing any underwear. Thought you’d like to know.

He doesn’t see the message, interrupted when another field agent joins his side. She’s beautiful, and way too touchy with him. You can tell by the way Leon goes stiff, and steps slightly away, that he’s not playing along. That doesn’t quell the fiery pit in your stomach, somehow. You should be all over him, hanging off his arm, and he should be leaning right back. You miss his fingertips sliding across your back, and hushed comments in your ear. That’s the normal prerogative for a party like this; you keep Leon sane while he avoids as much conversation as possible, until the two of you can Irish goodbye and spend the rest of the night at home.

You don’t like this new routine of hanging back while he talks to everyone and their mother in the room. Saying that you’ve attended this party with him is generous at this point.

Maybe it’s childish, but you’re already across the room before you can calm yourself into being a little more reasonable. You sidle up next to the closest man you see, one that happens to be a guy that you know annoys the shit out of Leon at the STRATCOM office. If you remember right, his name is something like James. He’s cute, but not your type at all. Dark hair, too confident, and way too familiar with strangers. The type of shit Leon hates.

You put on your most dazzling smile, one that feels utterly fake, but the guy who looks up at you clearly either can’t tell, or doesn’t care. He’s a little too tipsy to deny attention from a beautiful woman. You bend your knee, accentuating your leg that peeks out from the high slit in your dress. 

“Hey,” he drawls. You can smell the vodka on his breath. “Aren’t you a pretty thing?”

“You think so?” You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear like you’re a girl getting asked to the prom, all shy. “Thanks.” You introduce yourselves, and he immediately launches into some story about how he was a big hero in the field. You nod and bat your eyelashes, letting your gaze flick to where Leon is. He’s already watching you, and you can tell his jaw is tight. He definitely read your text, and he definitely sees what you’re doing. You pretend not to notice, and let out a giggle at some dumb joke the brunette in front of you makes. The story sounds a little too familiar, with the wrong details emphasized, and you realize it's one Leon’s told you; and this guy was massaging it to make him look like a hero. You deserve an Oscar for the way you act so impressed, a hand falling to his shoulder with faux laughter.

You’re so focused on your game that you don’t notice Leon’s disappearance until James’s eyes trail behind you, and you feel a familiar, calloused hand against the back cutout of your dress. 

Finally.

“Leon!” James acts like he wasn’t just painting him as a clumsy agent who had ruined an entire mission for the department. Leon’s voice is steely when he responds.

“Crawford.” Leon doesn’t give him the courtesy of a first name, nor the title agent.

“I was just telling, uhhh,” he struggles for a bit before remembering your name. “About that time in Alaska. With the bear, remember?”

“Yeah. You almost got your face ripped off. It was hilarious,” he says, nothing even close to a laugh in his voice. James’s ears go red and he slurs over defensive words to you, trying to save the macho persona he’d built up. Leon stops him. “Go find another girl to charm, yeah?”

“What, man? She started talking to me.” The hand on your back increases in pressure.

“Come on, you’re drunk. Fuck off,” Leon says, a little harsher this time. You’re really in for it now. James mutters some choice words and slinks away, probably finding some other girl to chat up. You put on your most innocent look when you turn your attention to your boyfriend, who now more than ever, towers over you. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” You practically pout. “You can talk with people, and I can’t?”

“That’s not what you were up to, both you and I know that.”

“It's not my fault a guy finds me attractive. That girl was all over you, too,” you mutter the last part, and all the innocence you’ve played up falls. Leon looks confused for a moment.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you shrug. He rubs his hand over your back with a hum.

“Yeah. Nothing,” he squints at you. After a moment, his expression becomes something more amused. “Wait a minute— are you jealous?”

“No,” you answer too quickly, too defensively. The pink in your cheeks betrays you. Leon actually lets out a small laugh. This only makes you more indignant, embarrassed even. As if all your other actions weren’t a cry for attention.

“You are,” he scoffs. It’s affectionate. “You’re cute.” You’re not sure you can get any redder. Leon’s enjoying every bit of it. “C’mon, you got nothing to worry about,” he says, lips brushing your ear, voice low so only you can hear. “I’m all yours, yeah?”

“Sure hasn’t felt like it,” Leon frowns. His heart aches, guilty. He finds your hand and squeezes. 

“Hey, look at me,” he says. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I got carried away for so long. People just wouldn’t get out of my hair.” You fight the urge to look away, guilt twisting in your stomach a bit. “I never want you to feel ignored, you deserve better than that.” 

“I know that, logically,” you sigh, willing yourself to let the nasty feelings inside you release. “I’m sorry, too. I may have gone a bit overboard.” You let yourself smile at him. “Next time, come home first, please? Even if we’re late, we can be late together. Avoid all of this.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the way he says it, deep and only for you, has you like putty in his hands. He knows exactly what you’ve been fiending for. He kisses your forehead, and the show of affection in a public room has all of your frustration melting into the desire building in your core, even more so when he leans to murmur in your ear. “Where’s that bathroom you were sending me that sexy picture from, hm?” His voice is something bordering on desperate as his touches grow more possessive. “I gotta check something.” You know exactly what he wants to check immediately. You almost wish you were wearing underwear, because you’re sure it’s a fucking mess down there by now.

He follows you through the crowd, close behind like a shadow. As soon as the lock clicks behind him, he’s on you. Lips and teeth pulling at your mouth, your neck. Near growling as he grips desperately at your hips. All you can do is breathe heavily, let out a pathetic whine. His hands all over you have you trembling with need.

“You’re shaking,” he says breathlessly against your cheek. He cradles your face in his hands. “You alright, baby?”

“Yeah, I just,” you swallow. You’re almost too embarrassed to say it. He plants a soft kiss on your mouth, encouraging you to continue. “I’m… I need you, Leon.” His eyes flicker all over your face, taking in your lips, slick and bitten from his kisses, your pupils blown out with desire. You grab at his shoulders, his arms, anywhere you can touch. He feels a new wave of warmth flood his body at the syrupy sweet pleasure of being wanted as badly as he wants you. So much, you went out of your way to get his attention, to make him a little pissed off.

“Yeah?” He’s burying his face in your neck, sucking a hickey. You’re in no right mind to stop him, and you don’t want to. It’s tomorrow you’s problem. You right now? You want to be marked. You want to be his. “I need you, too,” he groans into your mouth. “Needed me so bad you wanted to make me jealous?” You whimper against his teeth at your neck.

“Don’t like feeling ignored,” you mumble. “Like you too much.” He laughs into your skin, and you suddenly feel like everything will be alright. 

His hands begin to slide down the curves of your body slowly. He hikes up your dress enough to slip underneath the slit, pawing at your bare ass greedily. “Fuck, you weren’t kidding.” He continues to talk to you, sending goosebumps up your arms, and turning you on more than you knew was possible. His erection is digging into your thigh, begging to pop out of his pants. You’re almost not ready when his fingertips are sliding back over your hips, underneath you to cup your heat. He moans in your ear when he feels the slick that’s spread to your thigh. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he sighs. You shiver when he runs his fingers over you, deliciously slow. “I can’t make it home, baby. Gonna make you cum right here.”

“Leon-” your words catch in your throat when he presses a little harder on your heat, rubbing just enough to catch on your clit and have your hips twitching. You spread your legs for him, and he pulls one around his waist, beginning to roll up his sleeves as he continues to tease you. You can’t help the moan that escapes you when he frees his forearms.

“You’re really that desperate, huh?” A flush has risen across his cheeks at your desperation for him, knowing you want him so bad that just rolling up his sleeves has you near dripping on the marble floor. 

“Shut up,” you sigh. You’re not sure you can take anything else embarrassing you. You cover your face.

“None of that,” he pulls your hands away immediately. “I love when you’re horny. It’s so hot,” he kneads the fat of your inner thigh, fingers so close but not close enough to where you’re dying to be touched. “You’re beautiful. Let me make you feel good, baby.” He begins tracing across your vulva again, his other hand coming up to stroke down your collarbones, slipping your straps down your shoulders. The cold air gives you a chill, your nipples hardening in seconds. Leon sighs, like he’s in pure heaven. His hands rub warmth back into your breasts, kneading each one gently. Before you know it, his lips are sealed over your left breast, and you have to bite your cheek to hold in a loud moan.

“Fuck,” you whisper. Leon hums, making sure to give your other breast equal attention. You swear he’s torturing you when he teeths your nipple, and you have to use all your willpower to not scream. You’ve waited a month for just a scrap of this, and it feels better than any fantasy you could have ever gotten off to alone in an empty bed.

“You are so gorgeous,” his words make you feel like you’re floating. He doesn’t refer to you as a thing, like James did, you are simply just you. And to him, you’re the most gorgeous being he’s ever seen. “Keep quiet for me, baby. Save all those moans for when we get home, yeah?” You sigh as he finally, finally turns his full attention to your throbbing pussy. Your back is pressed to the cold tile wall, and he slings your leg over his shoulder to close his mouth around your clit. Thank god for the slit in your dress. Easy access.

“Leon,” you keep your voice quiet, not wanting it to float underneath the gap underneath the door. He hums against you, creating a vibration that has you bucking into his face. You swear you can feel him smirk. He sucks at your clit delicately, dipping just a bit of his fingertip inside of you. It’s enough for you to writhe a little, and he uses his forearm strength to hold you still against the wall. Your hand finds his hair, pulling just enough for it to shoot pleasure down his spine at the feeling.

He pushes a full finger in you, already beginning to pick up his pace. He must feel how close you’re getting already, just from his kisses and touches. He does something to you that’s otherworldly.

“That the spot?” He murmurs, kissing your inner thigh, just as he brushes against that spongy spot. Your leg tightens on his shoulder in response. “Yeah, I know it is, honey,” he adds another finger. You’re doomed. You don’t know how you’re going to get through this without letting an ungodly noise out. Especially not when you spot Leon rubbing himself over his pants, a low groan escaping his lungs. It’s unbelievably sexy how turned on he gets just from watching you writhe in pleasure. He dives back down and tongues at your swollen clit, teasing it just a little before sealing it in his mouth. Your back arches away from the wall, and your hand scrambles to find purchase on literally anything. Eventually, he answers your desperation, tangling his fingers with yours. You squeeze. Hard. He chuckles against you and you feel tears prick at your eyes in pleasure.

“Leon, fuck, I’m so close. Please don’t stop.” He obeys your every word, wanting to get you there more than anything he thinks he’s ever wanted in his life. He also wants to get you home so he can ravage you. Hear every moan from your mouth without worrying about notifying anyone that’s in charge of his employment.

His fingers are moving in and out of you at a perfect, furious tempo, with enough pressure to hit your g-spot just right every single time. You can feel the knot tightening faster and faster in your lower belly, and your legs press him further against you. He moans against your wetness, and you think there’s a muffled “c’mon baby” somewhere in there.

It’s enough to send you into the stratosphere. It snaps.

You bite your lip so hard you draw blood, using every ounce of strength to stay silent as your orgasm rolls through you. A loud smack sounds when your head slams against the wall, but its the least of your worries, as you feel your climax leaking down his hand. He finally relents on your pussy, slowing his fingers down until the orgasm is a pleasant buzz, and pulling them out. You twitch at the emptiness, and clench again when he sucks your release off his fingers. He comes back to your mouth for a messy kiss, and you can taste yourself all over him. It’s hot.

He pulls away, sliding his hand up to cradle the back of your head with a small laugh. His other hand thumbs over your swollen bottom lip.

“Your head okay? You smacked it pretty hard, there.”

“I literally can’t feel anything right now,” you breathe heavily. Leon slowly releases your leg from over his shoulder, a hand steadying your thighs to ensure you have your sea legs before releasing you. He’s got an almost goofy smile on his face. All you can do is try to even your breathing as he gives you a small dose of aftercare; he gently pulls your straps back over your shoulders, tugging your dress back down to sit properly over your legs. His warm hands run over your arms, attempting to rub away some of the goosebumps from the cold tile. He originally goes to smooth your hair back into its updo, but ends up just pulling out the clip holding it together. Something egregiously fond comes over his expression as your hair falls to your shoulders. He tucks a strand behind your ear, fiddling with it a bit more to undo any tangles. You take in his attention greedily, eating every bit of it up like it's your last meal. Once he’s satisfied, he seals his work with a surprisingly chaste kiss.

“I’m so lucky,” he muses.

“You just gave me an insane orgasm in the bathroom at a federal ball. I feel like I’m the one with all the luck here,” you rib. He smiles at your joke, but just shrugs a shoulder.

“You let me eat you out in the bathroom at a federal ball,” despite the debauchery of the situation, his tone is gentle. “I feel lucky. I feel lucky every minute I spend with you, you know that?” You kiss him in response. Hard. Loving. Every ounce of you channeled into it. His arms wrap around you, squeezing you close to his body. It’s a long, languid caress. You almost hate that he pulls away, even if it’s to say something else sweet to you. “I’m really sorry about earlier. I could’ve stepped away. Next time I will,” his hand finds your cheek. “You’re the most important thing to me. I want you to feel that.” You turn your head to kiss his palm, as if to say now I do.

“C’mon, or I’m gonna fuck you in the backseat of your car.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he peeks his head out of the bathroom door. The hallway must be empty, because he quickly pulls you with him into the hall. He’s glued to your side as you traverse the parking lot of expensive cars, until you find his beat up BMW sticking out like a sore thumb. He keeps saying he’ll get something newer, but you think he’s too attached. He's fiercely loyal, if nothing else.

He’s pulling out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell, determined to get home and ravage you in as little time as possible. You eye the bulge still pressing at the zipper of his slacks. He catches you before you can even move your arm, placing your hand back in your lap. His own hand squeezes your thigh.

“If you do that, we will get in a wreck.”

You thank whatever higher being there is or isn’t that there’s a parking spot right up front at your complex. Leon practically yanks you from the passenger seat, only separating from your side to hold the door to the lobby open for you. The two of you manage to make it into an empty elevator, and he’s back all over you, holding your hips from behind and kissing on your neck. You hum pleasantly at the contact, the mere twenty minute drive a drought for the two of you.

As soon as the elevator opens, you’re rushing to unlock your door, and he picks you up before you can even step a foot in the threshold. He locks the door behind you and throws you on the couch. You don’t even make it to the bedroom.

“Fucking finally,” he practically rips open each button of his shirt, eyes on you like he’s about to devour you. And in a way, it’s true. “You better take that off if you like it. Otherwise it’s going to end up in shreds.” You decide you liked teasing him a little too much earlier, and slowly slide off the straps, taking your sweet time to pull each arm out. Leon throws his own shirt on the floor with what can only be described as a frustratedly horny noise. “You’re a fucking minx, jesus christ.”

“What? I’m doing what you asked.” You bat your eyelashes at him, a little over the top.

“Arms up.” He orders, deep and commanding. You swear you can feel a gush of arousal pool between your legs. You obey without backtalk this time. “Good girl.” The comment floods you with pleasant tingles, and you’re reaching for his belt buckle before you can stop yourself. He lets you, pants falling over his thighs. His boxer briefs are tight from how hard he is, and you spot a damp spot of pre-cum. Leon’s watching you like you’re a creature sent straight from heaven, lids low with dark eyes. You meet his gaze easily, your own exhilaration just as clear. He inhales sharply when you tug down his underwear, and his cock bobs out, drooling pre-cum for you. You wrap your fingers around his shaft, thumbing his arousal down with your stroke. He only lets you touch him for a minute before he’s begging. “Please, sweetheart, let me fuck you. I’m so fucking hard for you.”

“Yeah? I can see that, babe,” you breathe. “Where do you want me?”

“Fuck, it doesn’t matter,” he’s bending you over the couch before you can tease him more. He rubs his length over your wet heat, letting out a loud, desperate moan. You feel his tip at your hole, and he covers the length of your back as he slowly slides in. You feel so full with every inch, letting out a loud groan. Leon pulls you up on your knees, pressing his chest into your back. He wraps his arms around your middle, bucking into you at a slow, agonizingly hot pace. “Fuck, you feel so good. Missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” you gasp, grinding back into him. His hand slides up to grope at your breast, the other squeezing your hip so tight you know they’ll be bruised by morning. “Fuck, Leon.” He kisses at your neck desperately, and his hand soon finds your jaw, twisting you just enough to messily lock his mouth to yours. It’s a filthy kiss; wet and moaning as he fucks into you so deep you whine.

“‘M not gonna last long, sweetheart,” he gasps against you, freeing your head from his hand to rest at your collarbone. You can feel yourself approaching another peak, too, with the way he’s hitting you perfectly every single thrust. As if he read your mind, the hand on your hip comes down further to rub at your clit. His circles are precise, with perfect pressure that has you moaning like a porn star. “I can feel you squeezing me, fuck. You gonna cum for me?” All you can manage is a frantic nod. His chest heaves against your back, damp with sweat. His hips slap against your ass with loud, vulgar noises. You use the arm not holding you up against the couch to reach back, once again begging for something to hold onto as you shake with your release not far away. Leon squeezes your hand and jolts you both forward into the couch. You’re trapped underneath him in the most pleasant way as he fucks into you desperately.

“Leon,” you rasp. “Leon, I’m gonna cum. Fuck.”

“Yeah?" he rubs your clit a little more fiercely. He ghosts kisses across your shoulder between spurts of words. “Cum on me, wanna feel it. You feel so fucking good on my cock,” he’s almost rambling now as he talks you to your end. “Love you, baby. You’re mine.” You barely register what he says, your orgasm hitting you forcefully, suddenly. Your walls clench around him so tight he lets out a deep whine. “Fuuuuck. Good girl. That’s it, so good for me, angel.”

“Fuck,” you whimper as he pounds you still, chasing his own release. You sit back up into him and he rears back with you, fucking his hips up desperately. He’s almost whimpering. “Cum inside me, please,” you beg. You want to feel him finish. It’s been too fucking long, and you’re desperate for every last bit of him. He nearly growls at your request, slamming into you so hard he has to wrap his forearm around your hips so you don’t fall away from him. Even in your post-orgasm fog, it feels so good you can’t help but moan. Your noises push him over the edge, and you feel him twitch in you, pulsing hot ropes of cum deep in you. He keeps your hips stuck to his as he rides it out, and his teeth bite into your shoulder desperately at how good it feels.

After he’s spent, he presses a few kisses where his teeth marks indent your skin. Then, he moves up your neck, behind your ear, everywhere he can reach as he recovers from his high. It almost hurts when he releases the grip on your hips, and you miss his hands on you already. He slips out of you slowly, the emptiness making you tremble against him. He hugs you from behind for a moment, just enjoying your body against his. Your hearts race in tandem, air buzzing between the two of you in a pleasurable haze.

Leon finally manages to back off of you, and you collapse face first on the couch, falling to the side a bit, still trying to come to terms with reality. You barely notice him retreat to the bathroom for a towel, before he’s back by your side to clean you up. You’re limp when he’s finished, and he picks you up without a word to bring you to bed.

Once he ensures you’re under the covers the way you like, he crawls in beside you. You don’t waste another second away from him, wrapping your greedy arms around his middle and nuzzling into his chest. He sighs, something full of love and relaxation. You’re processing everything slowly, tracing circles on his chest, before you realize what he’d confessed in the middle of, well, everything.

“Did you…” You begin, almost nervous. “Did you mean that before?”

“What, sweetheart?”

“You said,” you look up at him. You want to remember everything about this moment, if it’s true. You’re not even sure how you’d react if it isn’t. It honestly doesn’t cross your mind. The way Leon treats you, the way he looks at you and misses you. You know deep down, that it’s love. You know because you do the same in return. “You said you love me.” He almost looks sheepish when the words leave your mouth. But he faces it head on, without a trace of fear on him.

“Yeah,” he rubs his thumb over your cheek. “Not sure that’s how I envisioned telling you, but yes. I love you,” Your name completes his sentence, falling from his lips like it’s always meant to be there. You’re often baby, or sweetheart, but in the most tender moments, your name comes the easiest to his mind. Because you’re you. And you’re his. And he can’t think of a better way to refer to you in that moment than by the name that’s in every corner of his mind, every second of the day.

[dolliestmelody]

SOOOO good omg

[familyvideostevie]

his eyes all over me

leon kennedy x reader | 1.4k

leon comes home to you.

established relationship, leon pov, soft, fluffy, kissing, pick your favorite leon for this one

a/n: first time giving this man a try. very inspired by the comments about leon's marriage serving as a place for him to go home and rest. let me know what you think!

--

He planned to be gone for 48 hours at most.

But, as usual, 48 turned to 72 turned to an entire week.

Not exactly Leon's idea of a good time. Yours either, obviously, but that's just how it goes sometimes. You know better by now than to expect the dark, dangerous corners of the world to adhere to anyone's plans.

Leon will come home when he can. But he always comes home. It's his most serious promise to you, to himself. He will give everything he's got to the cause, to the mission, but you've given something to come back for. Both of you know that someday it might not be enough -- his words, his sheer will and desire to see you again, to cross the threshold and rest.

But this time it is.

And so, a full week after he kissed you goodbye, he finds himself home again. It's not the middle of the night, but it's close enough, the city draped in a hushed canopy of stillness. He quietly unlocks the door and slides into the darkness.

Or, what he expects to be darkness. Instead, he hears the hum of the TV down the hall and sees the soft glow of the living room lamp. A quick glance at his wrist confirms that it's too late for you to be anywhere but bed, so he calls your name softly.

No reply.

Leon hangs his jacket and leaves his bag at the door, taking off his boots with practiced ease before venturing towards the noise. Hunnigan tends to send word when he's officially on his way back, and he was able to clean up and change on the plane, but he never really feels like it's over until he lays eyes on you.

What he finds at the end of the hall settles his heart in his chest for the first time since he left. His missions are difficult and scary, impossible and necessary. He plans and he prepares and he fights and he wins, but the cost is inexplicable. The fear, the adrenaline, the toll.

It all washes away when he comes home to you. When he sees you as you are now, cheek smushed into the pillow on the couch, an infomercial lighting up the planes of your face. A blanket is halfheartedly tucked around you.

Did you sleep like this every night this week? he wonders. It might break his heart, if so, but he understands. Any bed is near impossible to get used to without you next to him.

But god, you're beautiful. His hands itch to touch you, to press his fingertips into your soft skin, to drag his lips along the column of your throat up to your lips, to hold himself against you as if he could crack open his ribcage and pull you inside, to be so close that you'd never be separated again.

He settles for sitting on the edge of the couch, his hip against you while he looks down at your face. Leon allows himself to hold you, one palm that was doing such damage a few hours ago curling around your waist through the blanket. Your chest rises and falls with deep, even breaths. Maybe you're dreaming of something good.

"Sweetheart," he says, softly, voice a little rough to his own ears. "I'm home."

Your lips curl into a small smile but you don't wake. In fact, you simply turn into him, making room for him like you were waiting. Which, he supposes, you were.

Leon says your name once, twice, three times, punctuating each one with a soft swipe of his thumb along your brow, your cheekbone, your jawline.

Your breathing changes and your eyes finally flutter and your hands reach for him, landing on his bicep and his knee. Were you dreaming of him?

"Leon," you say, not fully awake yet. "Baby."

His cheeks heat. Unbelievable, what you do to him. How you make him feel. He had blood in his hair this morning and now you're making him blush.

"Wake up, honey," he whispers, thumb pressing to the corner of your mouth. If you were already in bed, he'd let you sleep, but this is no place for you. You should be comfortable and tucked next to him. He wants to be in bed with you, to lie down and sleep well for the first time in a week. You remind him often that he can ask for things, that he can have them. He deserves to rest.

It takes a few more breaths but you cross the threshold between dreams and reality and process what's happening.

"Leon," you say again, but this time as a gasp, eyes flying all the way open. "You're home." You surge up from the couch and throw your arms around his neck, nose to his pulse point. He's prepared for this and catches you with ease.

"Seems so," he grumbles, but he pulls you close, one hand bracing the back of your head. "I'm sorry it took so long --"

You cut him off with a somewhat clumsy kiss, mouths pressed together for the sake of it.

"You came back," you say sternly, the affect slightly dimmed by your sleep-slurred words. "That's what matters."

There are a thousand things he could say. I'm sorry, again. I wish it was different. Thank you for waiting. Thank you for being here. The list goes on and on.

He settles for another kiss, this one slower but still chaste. Just a reminder that this is happening, that this is real.

You look dazed and far too happy when he pulls away. It makes his chest feel full of electricity. You give him so much, and sometimes he doesn't know what to do with it.

"You need a dog," he grumbles, unable to resist some ribbing. You've said it's one of your favorite things about him, his teasing. He presses his thumb gently into the soft skin under your eye. "You didn't even stir when I opened the door."

The corners of your mouth pull up of their own accord and you turn your cheek into his palm, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

"But it was you," you say, plainly. Leon is joking, mostly, but he doesn't get what you're saying. "I know when it's you," you continue, like he's missing the point.

He hums, but you aren't done.

"I know it's you," you repeat. "Even in my sleep. I know I'm safe."

Ah. He exhales all at once, face going slack and his fingertips pressing even harder into your hip for just a moment before he loosens his hold. You always know how to do this -- to rip through his armor, his necessary exterior, and remind him of what's inside. Just a man with a heart like everyone else.

"Shit," he mutters. "You sure know what to say to a guy, huh?"

You smile at him, languid and sincere, reaching up to tuck some of his fringe back behind his ear. He showered before he got back, a rare thing, but he's grateful for it now.

"Yep," you agree, pleased with yourself. "Can we go to bed now?"

God, he wants nothing more. To curl up in those soft sheets he's sure you washed fresh just for him, to hold you close and listen to your heartbeat as he falls asleep. To know you'll be next to him when he wakes.

Leon can't help it. He kisses you again, this one a bit more heated, a bit more intense. You barely keep up, gasping against his mouth. He uses the opportunity to dip his tongue between your lips for just a moment, to remember the taste of home. But he pulls away, pressing his mouth to yours once, twice, more.

"Yeah," he says. Your eyes are glassy with sleep and desire, but he knows which one will win out. There's plenty of time for the other tomorrow. "I'd love to."

He stands, tugging you up with him. You go willingly, always eager to follow him anywhere. Leon pulls you into a hug, a proper one, the way he would have had you been awake when he returned. Your arms go around his ribcage and the blanket pools at your feet. God, you smell good. Like everything he's ever wanted.

"I missed you," he says into your hair, but you hear it. You always hear him.

"I love you," you say back. Same thing, really, and you both know it.

[sweetvestal]

“honeymouthed.” m.list

pairing: southern!femme!reader x best friend!butch!ellie

synopsis: you’ve carved your life around the summers in italy with your best friend. you belong to her gentle hands but each year, there’s more at stake. you’d do anything for love and for ellie, anything to get away from it. what can be done after one night forces you to confront the unsaid?

content: somewhere in northern italy. childhood best friends. accidental friends with benefits. not so casual sex. butchfemme dynamic. reader is a hopeless romantic. ellie is in the habit of rejecting human desire. mentions of an age-gap relationship. mentions of abuse. mentions of substance use. infidelity. avoidance. short tempers. slow burn. miscommunication. codependency. secrecy. jealousy. competitiveness. power play. angst. hurt/comfort. smut — service top!ellie. sub!reader. inexperienced reader. kink exploration. developed hypersexuality.

word count: tbd.

── prologue

just to relive the start

── chapter one

(tba.)

˚ ༘ author’s note— i’m introducing a new series! this idea has been sitting in my drafts until now, after a fruitful, soul-crushing lesbian summer brought me back to it. i also took inspiration from cmbyn (over-emotional drunken rewatch). chapter one will be uploaded later this week but let me know if you’re interested in being part of the series’ taglist! i aim to upload at least once a week now that i have more time on my hands. thank you <3

more tba.

[dolliestmelody]

oh my god i am doing backflips i am so excited for this

[butchcody]

I just don’t think that solidarity on the basis of being in touch with your identity in a unique way is exclusive to butch4butch. I think there is something healing about butch4butch, of course, and something very special about it, and I respect and agree with many points from people who experience attraction exclusively that way. But so often butch4butch is framed as “attraction to someone who actually understands me and my gender and identity experience” and I just don’t think that’s at all a fair assessment the way it’s contrasted against butch4femme as though butches and femmes are inherently opposites and therefore lack an understanding of the other. It comes down to masculinity and femininity not being inherent opposites, not in any context but especially not in queer context. There is so much about the queer femme experience that I relate and connect to on a very deep level as a butch. Femmes are not my opposites, they are often only very barely offset from what I feel are the most masculine things about me, if they’re even offset at all. From softness to protectiveness to a deep understanding of what it takes to survive in a world that expects us to center cishet men and cishet values - the femme and butch experience are mirrors that truly, and honestly only sometimes, are only separated by external aesthetic and personal energies.

This is all to say nothing of the femmes who aren’t cis, who are gnc in their own right, who have gone the rounds to unpack their gender and who have restructured it in defiance of societal expectation and conditioning same as any butch. But I’m supposed to act like they’re a totally separate entity just because their most honest and joyful expression of self looks different than mine? I’m supposed to buy into the idea that femmes are an opposite sex, that they could never really understand me for that reason? That they’re a totally different polarity when our experiences are more shared than they are unique? That I’m the boy version of queer and they’re the girl version so they must be alien to me same as cishet women are alien to cishet men? No, I’ll pass on that. I’ll pass, thank you.

[omgliz]

the vibe ellie brings to the func

gf!ellie

[dolliestmelody]

i want her

[dolliestmelody]

if the vampire lestat doesn’t come out on the first of january next year i’m gonna crash out please please please i need it </3

[souliloqui]

18+ | vi x fem!reader

cw: gp!vi

gp!vi who's always heard her partners gasp at how big she is. their eyes widening as they take in her girth, lust and desperation so evident in their eyes. it's something she's used to, something she knows and yeah, it never fails to inflate her ego.

but when you say it? when you gawk at her cock, soft lips parting in awe at the sheer size of her? when you get all flustered, thighs squished together as you look at it before peering up at her?

"y-you're so big," you murmur, albeit shy, as you reach out with slightly shaky hands. "a-are you sure it's gonna fit?"

and vi swears she's never came so hard and so instantly before in her life.

[dolliestmelody]

PLEASEEEEE NEEED THAT NEED THAT !!!!!

[dolliestmelody]

lestat has the sluttiest waist ever oh my GODDDDD

[murdrdocs]

making out w lestat plaguing the mind.

starting off just sitting in front of him, sitting on your calves, your knees in the center of his spread legs. you’re completely dressed down, wearing nothing but your night gown, one of the straps hanging off of your shoulder. but then he pulls you closer with a demanding and firm hand curled around your waist. he’s older than you and so much stronger, but even when he uses not even a quarter of his strength you’re letting yourself be maneuvered like a doll. which, isn’t that what you are? a doll of sorts for mr. lioncourt? hell, he did dress you up in this, a frivolous nightgown that was mature enough but still feminine and adorable. you both know he told you to wear this just so he could have the pleasure, and the privilege, of being the one to take it off of you. which will surely happen in due time.

for now, you’re straddling his waist with your gown bunched around your spread thighs. lestat keeps one hand on your waist at all times, sometimes flattening his palm along the center of your back. this hand is a leash, not like you’d ever dream of leaving lestat. not when he’s treating you like this, at least. his other hand cups your cheek, holding you much more delicately. up here, he treats you truly like a doll, like a prized possession that he’ll never find elsewhere. sometimes, he tells you that’s what you are to him. he calls you his beautiful creation. he tilts your face this way and that in the light, he draws your fangs from your mouth, he marvels at the color of your eyes. you’re his creation. which means you’re his to play with and control.

the palm at your back curls into a fist and he twists the expensive fabric of your nightgown with it, pulling the hem up until your backside is bare to the air around you both and your center is pressing into the fabric of his pants. he brings that same hand down and swipes two fingers through your slit. he hums into your mouth at his findings, and then he presses the pads of his fingers into that spot that he introduced you to. a spot no man before him ever bothered to find.

when he pulls away from your lips, he continues to hold your cheek in his hand. he looks into your eyes for a second, not saying anything. his lips are shining just as his eyes are. he takes a sharp nail and drags it along your face, tracing your features.

“you are perfect,” he tells you. then he tilts his head, and pulls you back to him.

as you kiss him back you wonder how long you’ll appear perfect in his eyes.

[dolliestmelody]

GODDDDDDDDD

[p00pdev1l]

a slow burn but it’s your knight slowly cracking over time under their growing desire of breaking their oath for you

[dolliestmelody]

hhhh need to write something like this desperately……

[luvvyouforever]

thinking about a fem4fem relationship with haley ౨ৎ

❀ she gets so blushy and giddy when you compliment her, especially during the beginnings of your relationship. she'll hide it at first, going back home and thinking about your words all night, but eventually you get to see her sweet smile more and more.

❀ at first, she saw you as competition, or maybe just envy. you're the new farmer, you're pretty, you dress in cute clothes like her, you're drawing attention away from her. she pouts and grumbles everytime someone brings you up.

❀ but then she starts looking for you more. she starts admiring your flower dance dress, she roots for you at the egg hunt, she admires you when you're fishing at the pier while she's tanning. she brings all this up to alex, just rambling, and he looks at her like "seriously?"

❀ alex sweetly informs haley that she has a crush on you. she gets defensive, but when alex starts listing off all these "symptoms" of a crush, she blushes more and more.

❀ even though she knows she has a crush on you, she waits for you to say something first. she'll make hints and seek you out, but in no way will she potentially face the embarrassment of your rejection. when you finally ask her on a date, she's over the moon.

❀ loves loves loves coordinating outfits. you'll have bikinis in the same color, cute silk matching pajamas that she bought out in zuzu, similar winter coat shapes, matching cowboy boots. she always makes excuses like "they were on sale if you bought two!" but you know there's more to it.

❀ she enjoys peaceful nights at the farmhouse where you're doing your nightly routines together in the mirror, haley moisturizing her skin, you applying pimple patches.

❀ likes having you paint her nails. you'll sit on the couch, or maybe the front porch on a swing, her feet lazily perched in your lap while you apply pink polish to her toes. and then you reach for her hands and she keeps them as still as she can for you.

❀ genuinely thrives so much on your praise and love. and she takes it so seriously too! when someone like alex compliments her hair, she smiles, but he doesn't know the work that went into creating the perfect windswept blowout look. but you do.

❀ there's usually never much discourse about who spoons who or who "wears the pants" in the relationship. dating haley is balanced and things just fall the way they do. you know when to be the big spoon for her and she knows when to let you lay your head down in her lap, her fingers running through your hair.

❀ this is so cheesy and typical but she really does like when you give each other makeovers. it's so quiet and intimate and she relishes in your gentle touches on her face as you do her eyeliner. (also imagine this with an alt!farmer, like someone who gravitates towards a darker makeup style than her, and how fun it would be to switch styles for a night in the house).

❀ lowkey though your bathroom is a wreck. a hundred bottles in the shower, makeup scattered along the counter, sweet sticky notes stuck to the mirror, necklaces and jewelry hanging haphazardly on an organizer on the back wall.

❀ no matter who proposes to who and who receives the mermaid pendant, the other will get something of equal significance. haley would opt for a necklace of her own, something with your initials engraved on it.

❀ loves giving and receiving flowers. her eyes just light up so much when she walks in to a fresh bouquet of sunflowers, having just been plucked from your own garden and arranged beautifully. she thinks you would be a florist in another life. she prefers walking around the valley, taking pictures and collecting the prettiest wildflowers along the way to present to you.

❀ speaking of taking pictures, you're her best model! she'll take photos of you working on the farm, photos of you lying next to her on the beach, photos of you posed on the bed, dressed in little to nothing. says you make the prettiest photos for her.

❀ haley's lowk a freak in some ways. she kinda craves to be worshipped, but also wants to worship you. so she thrives on praise in and out of the bedroom. adores having you kiss her, tell her how beautiful she is, and she returns the favor for you.

❀ the easiest way to really get her flustered and needy is to ramp up the praise, making it almost extreme. tell her she's a goddess, she's a queen, nobody else could ever compare to her, you're so lucky to have such a pretty girl in your bed. she'll be like putty in your hands.

❀ the top/bottom and sub/dom dynamics are relatively balanced. i think it depends on the mood and the day and how sleepy haley is feeling. for example, she'd be more of a willing and dominant top if she's had a good day, like when you've laid out on the beach together in the summer and she's gotten the privilege to watch your body in a swimsuit all day long. she'd want to be cared for and treated though if it's a cold winter and she's huffy and overstimulated from her coat and scarf all day.

❀ she loves mutual masturbation, but will never say it out loud. she'll look so pretty with her splayed across your pillows, fingers between her legs, her bright blue eyes looking at you intensely as you pleasure your own self. you notice just how turned on she is and note to return to it again.

❀ loves bathing together and shamelessly running her hands all across your body, chalking it up to just washing off the farm from you (her words not mine), but really she's behind you biting her lips as her hands graze over your breasts and thighs.

❀ she's always watching and admiring you working. she sits on the front porch of your farmhouse, watching you harvest parsnips with your hair pulled back, your usual feminine clothes having been replaced by old farm gear. she's thinking long and hard about everything she wants to do with you.

[dolliestmelody]

guess who started playing stardew valley recently…

[comatosebunny09-deactivated2025]

Daily reminder to write whatever the fuck you want.

[dolliestmelody]

nsfw ˋ°•*⁀➷ thinking long and hard about leaving marks all over vi and her being obsessed with it ughhhhh #needthat

˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

vi’s eyes flutter open, golden streams of light pouring through gaps in the curtains and gently caressing her face, coaxing her into consciousness. she’s oh so comfortable, the familiar weight of your body draped atop hers grounding her in this drowsy, dreamlike state she was in. her eyes flit down to admire your nude form cuddled sweetly into her side, your arm caging her in possessively even in your sleep. the sight makes vi’s heart swell beneath her rib cage, how lucky she feels to have you.

reluctantly, she moves you ever so gently so you’re laying on your neglected pillow now. it might as well just be there for decoration since you always favoured the plush warmth of vi’s chest over the cotton clad stuffing. after triple checking that you were still asleep (and just to spend more time admiring you), vi pads over to the bathroom. she passes the mirror, almost ignoring it completely until she catches a glimpse of something dark painted across her pale skin.

she saunters back over to look at her reflection and her knees almost buckle at the sight of herself. well, at the sight of your most recent additions to her body.

plum coloured splotches have blossomed over the expanse of her skin, each mark a vivid reminder of where your lips had been in the late hours of the night as you tangled together in the sheets. you had littered your unique branding in a trail that spanned down her neck and across her chest and vi can’t help but to stand and admire your markings in awe. the sight of the bruises had a fire burning in her stomach.

it was unusual for such marks to appear on her body in a way that wasn’t born from violence, the sharp ache often a reminder of someone’s fist as opposed to the softness of your lips. the hues of contusion don’t bring her anger or remorse, just calm and the overwhelming joy of knowing that she is all yours and you want people to know it, to see it.

the memory of what occupied you both hours before comes flooding back and she prays she never forgets the way you looked. positively obsessed with her, mouth sucking and biting at whatever your lips found first as you made those sweet sounds that had vi reeling.

“fuck, baby, you tryna give everyone something to stare at, hm?” she says somewhat teasingly, though it falls somewhat flat as she’s panting nearly as hard as you are as she drenches her boxers.

“i want everyone to see- fuck! i-i want everyone to know you’re mine, please vi…” your words are slightly slurred as you barely pull your lips from her as you speak, looking up at her glossy eyed as you drag your spit slicked lips across her skin.

“i’m all yours, princess. fuck, look at you. i’m not going anywhere,” she coos. she truly can’t handle the sight of you and swears she’s short circuiting. “you gonna mark me up, huh? show everyone that i belong to you?”

you nod so enthusiastically she’s worried you’re gonna give yourself whiplash. vi chuckles at the sight, how fucking precious. she speeds up the movement of her hand between your thighs, earning more of those heavenly sounds out of you that she loves so much.

“let ‘em know, baby, let ‘em know. thaaat’s it.”

it’s safe to say that she will be fucking your brains out all over again when you wake up.