Synopsis: Another bad night for your man, but you know how to comfort him!
Tags: RE6!Leon x F!Reader, established relationship, smut, unprotected sex (don't do this, take care 🙏🏻), creampie, riding, pathetic men, whiny and crybaby Leon, mentions of dependence and post-traumatic stress, some angst, comfort and more!
Note: Hi!! I finally had time to finish this request from a while ago. It just wouldn't leave my head 😩 we don't talk about RE6!Leon enough, and I really need it. Pleasee ignore any mistakes and enjoy!💕💕
When you met Leon, years ago, you knew you were dealing with someone complex. You could see it in his eyes, which always concealed the seemingly endless pain in his life. When things escalated and the relationship became official, you came to know his wounds more deeply. The nightmares in the middle of the night, the cold sweat that trickled down his forehead when he remembered too much, or how there were times when all he wanted was to be with you.
You were the only thing that kept him sane. The only thing that kept him grounded. He felt guilty for wanting to merge his body with yours, for clinging to you until his last days. Could you blame him? He loved you like he'd never loved anyone or anything. The way you always took care of him when he was too depressed to get out of bed, how you washed his hair so gently, and above all, how you let him sink into you until he couldn't think of anything bad.
Tonight was one of those nights where dark thoughts clouded his judgment, and he couldn't stop the tears fall down for his face. His arms were tightly around you, his face buried between your tits as if letting go would mean the end of his life. Small, husky moans danced against your skin, muffling the occasional sob from Leon.
"You okay, baby?" you asked, trying to keep your tone sweet despite his length being buried deep inside you. You could practically feel his cock brushing against that delicious spot inside you with every movement you made on top of him.
All you got was a small nod, or maybe he was just rubbing his face against your chest like a big, old dog looking for love. He was a mess of tears and saliva, letting out long sighs of pleasure as he felt you ride him up and down, soaking him from base to tip. You went all the way down, until his swollen balls bumped against your entrance, then back up again, leaving only the dripping tip of his cock inside.
Your fingers brushed against his sweat-damp hair, pulling him close to your chest as you rode him slowly. His trembling hands roamed your back adoringly, drawing you closer with the need for there to be not an inch of distance between you. Your lips sought his, pouring all your feelings onto his trembling lips. He looked so fragile, panting into your mouth, his brows furrowed with pleasure and the need to silence the voices in his head.
"I love you, don't leave me..." He whispered, breathless. "Please, I love you so much, baby." Repeating his words with painful sincerity, he held you tighter, letting you bounce faster on him. His brain was completely melting, and long-forgotten tears slid down his rosy cheeks. He knew it was pathetic, but he couldn't help begging for more, pleading for you shamelessly.
His moans grew louder, more shaky, as his cock trembled inside your wet walls, making a loud, obscene squelching sound that echoed throughout the room. You were no better, the friction of your throbbing clit against his pelvis, lightly covered by pubic hair that created a path to his member, was driving you absolutely wild. That, and his wet, desperate kisses on your neck, were bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
"Look at me, please..." he begged, pulling you out of your trance. He knew you were close by the way your hot walls gripped him and the way your breathing became more frantic. "I want to see you—" he murmured, his voice hoarse with adrenaline. You opened your eyes, finding yourself confronted by a sight: his wet eyelashes fluttered quickly, his unfocused eyes showing only pure longing, and his jaw slack with pleasure. He was close too, just wanting to feel you come around his eager cock.
His hands released your hips to cup your hot face, his sweaty forehead pressed against yours to maintain eye contact. He was too busy admiring your beauty and how you crumbled around him.
Your body couldn't take it anymore, coming around his cock completely, soaking you both. Your eyes rolled back for a few seconds, feeling your walls tighten around him with spasms of pleasure. The thrusts were now slightly more frantic, wetter, helping you ride the waves of orgasm.
Leon's hips trembled helplessly beneath you, pulling your face closer to try and kiss you one last time before he came. But all he could do was groan against your mouth, breathing heavily as thick strands of hot, thick semen exploded inside you, making him forget even his own name for a second.
You moaned shakily as you felt him tremble inside you, emptying himself completely into your rubbery, sensitive walls. Your hips rubbed lazily against his, both of you panting into each other's mouths, still dazed from having come so hard. His semen, mixed with your release, began to seep from your pussy, dripping down base until it dripped onto his balls.
You leaned against his chest, and he hugged you, burying his nose in your tangled hair. His heart still pounded, trying to gather his thoughts.
"Thanks for...all." he murmured, his voice filled with the relief of being here with you. In your arms, he wasn't a tool, not an agent, he was just a man determined to love.
You were the cause of his happiness, his little paradise on earth, and he had no problem admitting it.
omg, i loove pathetic men, yummy 😋 and im so sorry I haven't been able to update often, im in the final stretch of my finals!! So i hope everyone is doing well and taking care ❤️🩹
Leon sees your natural hair texture for the first time
#self-indulgent again because this humidity won't let me wear my hair straight even though my hair can't decide what texture it wants to be #irish curls and I'm not even Irish :P #fluff
taglist: @cakeofhorrors @rainyxie@venus-in-roses
Leon had never seen you without your hair blown out smooth and sleek, falling around your face and shoulders in perfectly manufactured curtains. And he didn’t know any different. The two of you had been dating for a little over a year, and though you didn’t live together, the times when he would stay over at your apartment, or you at his, you would take up residence in his bathroom for an hour and a half with the door locked and the hair dryer humming.
You weren’t ashamed of your natural hair. Quite the opposite, actually. It was just so hard to maintain–all the products (some of which didn’t work the way they promised), the unpredictability of always having to guess how the pattern and texture would turn out when it finally dried. It was too much work, and although it was half as tedious to learn the ropes of round-brushing and holding the hair dryer at the same time, blowing it out was a lot easier in the long run.
However, Leon had taken off work to indulge in a much needed tropical vacation, and he insisted you come with him. Along with itsy-bitsy-teenie-weenie bikinis that left nothing to the imagination, linen cover-ups, denim cutoffs not safe for work, and a copious amount of sunscreen, you packed your array of hair products and a diffuser, having the foresight to know that blowing out your hair just wouldn’t be worth it. Not when the percentage of humidity was almost as high as the temperature, if not higher.
So, when you walked out of the bathroom, wearing only a robe and a mountain of thick curls around your head, Leon instinctively reached for the gun he always kept in his under-arm holster, certain a stranger had broken into the bungalow.
But alas, his gun wasn’t there because he was on vacation, and the foreign being padding out of the bathroom was his girlfriend. Or at least a version of you fit to pose for Botticelli or Raphael as they painted each tuft and curl framing your cheeks.
“Woah,” is all he managed to say through open lips, and you stood there, wide-eyed in confusion.
“What?” You asked, on your way toward concern. Had you forgotten to take off your mascara and the smudges left you with racoon eyes? Was the towel in your hands on fire? Why was he just standing there with his mouth agape and his eyes as big as saucers?
“Your hair,” he said, stepping toward you to reach out and touch the strands falling over your ears. “It’s…different.”
“Oh,” you chuckled breathily, placing a palm over your beating heart. “Yeah, I just didn’t feel like straightening it.” You had mentioned to him that you don’t magically wake up with straight hair…right? “Is that alright?”
He leaned down to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck. “More than alright,” he whispered with an inhale.
˓˒ leon kennedy x fem!reader ◟ Your husband can be a very stoic man, but you know him better than most.
warnings ⧽ 18+ content. smut ﹕ p in v ﹕ riding ﹕ choking ﹕ begging ﹕ sub leon ﹕ age gap ﹕ old man leon ﹕ praising ⧽ word count : 1,136
notes ⧽ First fic after being away for a month- what do we think? It's been a long time since I've written smut, and this is just a small drabble of something I've been thinking of, teehee.
Your husband can be a very difficult man to deal with at times. Even if you couldn't understand him at times, you still love him— but he can be very mean to you.
He can be a very serious man, a bit old-school. You married an old man, for crying out loud! What did you expect? You're a girl with needs, a large amount of needs considering the looks of your husband. Although Leon is sometimes just too exhausted to even go on dates with you, don't mistake this for him neglecting you or your marriage. He loves you dearly! It's just that he's reached an age where he believes he's too old to engage in such... activities with you.
Of course, he'd been willing to satisfy your needs, but it always abruptly ends with him on the bed rather than on top of you, as he often says, "..'m sorry, sweetie, get on top f'me, my back is hurting." he's an old man, but he's still your old man!
Your feet were thrown up in the air, your head roughly pushed against the softness of your pillows as the cool air hit your exposed skin; Leon was on top of you, his thick length was deep inside of you, hitting your sweet spot with barely any effort as you barely held back your moans, your sweet pussy was stretched so beautifully around his length, hot and silky. Pulsing against his hard length.
"f-fuck.. Leon!" You had let out another soft moan as you felt him pull out, your pussy subconsciously tightening and trying to suck him back in, clenching around him as he had let out a quiet groan. "You're doing so good f'me, sweetie." his words were a whisper, one that made you let out a small cry of pleasure.
Leon wasn't fucking you rough and fast, no. he always set the pace slow with you, always savoring the sensation of your pussy clenching around him or how your body acts on instinct whenever you were near. And you were already about to cum just for a few slow thrusts that had hit that achingly spot that sent shivers down your spine, his breath warm against the flush of your skin.
You were so close—
—that was until you had abruptly felt him pull out, leaving you aching and hollow. Your pussy made a sickeningly wet pop when he pulled out. You had instinctively let out a soft whine before you realized why he had pulled out.
"Baby, I'm sorry. fuck. Hold on—" Leon had let out a low groan; it was his back again. You had recognized the pattern before he could even say it; it happened too many times, unfortunately. He probably pulled a muscle. You watched as he pushed himself off of you, his warmth seeping away from your own body as you sat up alongside him. You should've been fretting over him, worrying if he was okay.
But you were a needy mess. A horrible one! You've been pent up for days, and at long last, when you finally get to spend time with your husband, it abruptly ends.
Your hand slowly reached for his flexing bicep as he finally appeared to be getting over the muscle strain. Instead of letting him get back on top of you, you pushed him down to the bed. Leon didn't fight back against you, never against you. You got on top of him, with you grabbing his thick length and lining it up perfectly against your wet lips, almost rubbing his tip against your folds, which earned a quiet groan from the man beneath you.
When you finally did lower yourself on his length, the sudden fullness of his cock going inside of your fluttering pussy almost made you want to cum right there. You swallowed down a whine when your hips instinctively started to grind, feeling his cock rut inside of you, trying to ignore that your cunt was fluttering around him, which was beyond your control.
"fuck— sweetheart—" his voice cracked when you finally started moving, watching as his cock disappeared into your pussy as he let out a tiny groan, throwing his head back on the pillows as your hands settled on his chest. His blue eyes were lidded and nearly blown with want. His cock was buried inside of you, thick and throbbing. You lifted yourself just until his tip was the only thing left inside before slamming back down, earning a low, broken sound that left his lips.
The sound of skin against skin was a loud thing in your shared bedroom; the slick from your pussy had made it easier for you to grind down on him as well as quickening your pace. You had started to pick up your pace. Faster and harder. Slamming down as your ass slapped against his thighs, the wet squelch of your pussy was obscene; you were soaked, dripping down his balls, making everything slick and messy.
"Slow down— you're gonna make me—" his hands gripped your hips, not quite with a bruising strength but with a strength where you felt the warmth of his hands seeping into your skin, leaving just a small amount of goosebumps in its wake. "No- you, nghh— you can handle it, c'mon, please?" you interrupted him, your voice airy and light, letting out another moan escape your soft lips as you felt his tip hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.
The scene was obscenely filthy, your slick dripping down to his thighs and balls as your body suddenly felt so hot with every upward thrust, his hips matching your speed. His hips surged forward with a desperate need as you looked down to see your husband's eyes rolling back, his mouth open as a string of light moans escaped his pretty lips.
"You can handle it, I know you can," you cooed at him, your hands moving to his throat as your delicate fingers curled around his throat with a firm grip, earning a light whine from your husband; you squeezed his throat with a lightness that made his body shudder with an unexpected need. "Yeah? You can handle another round f'me?" You watched as he nodded along with your coos as a flicker of pride swelled up in your chest.
"yes— yes, baby," he whimpers almost pathetically, breathlessly— shivering under your touch as it surged with newfound feelings that he didn't know were buried after so many years. His calloused hands glide over your soft skin, holding you with reverence. "fuck!— need to cum inside of you, please. fu-fuck— I'll do anything, sweetheart. please—" the words slipped out before he could catch them, his hips bucking as if desperately chasing his end.
Perhaps the night wasn't going to end as abruptly as it always does.
girl ım gonna ask request so reader’s father is terrible person and abused reader ,treated her badly and left her at young age so reader has daddy issues and traumas but she never told anyone except Leon till now,how would Leon react/comfort her? Tysm💕
a/n; now, I may still have a dad, but boy, do I have daddy issues (in case you haven't noticed from all my age gap fics and the fact that LEON is my fav.) also i worry a bit about writing in detail about things like abuse or severe trauma, so forgive me for the vagueness, i do hope this is alright!!
sum; blurb for Leon being a supportive and sweet boyfriend after finding out some of the things your father put you through
content; vague & brief mentions of child abuse (multiple forms.), reader has daddy issues, abandonment issues, comfort, fluff
wc; 3.2k
Leon Kennedy was a man of his word—when you two got together, and you warned him about all your troubles and baggage, he promised never to let that deter him from loving you. He swore on his life, his job, and his very few friends. Tonight, that was put to the test when Leon came home from his first long mission since you two got together. He'd been insanely lucky to have short, easy missions, or to not have any and only have to deal with paperwork and office stuff for a long few months.
He was gone for two weeks. Before he left, he made sure to explain what he could. A vague location, whether it was easy or not, stealth or close combat. In the moment, his reassurances helped you remember that he'd be safe. He even gave you Sherry's number to call if he wasn't home by the day he promised.
Luckily, he arrived right on time, but what he came home to only startled him a little. The house was as usual—perfectly clean and organized, kept as it had been—except for the fact that the living room had been turned into a... sleep area. Kind of. He stared at the couch being cozied like a bed, the way you had your laptop and notebook laid on the coffee table. It looked like the bedroom should.
"Honey? I'm home!" He called out, and within seconds, you came running down the hall, already tearing up as you jumped onto him. He barely caught you, lowering to his knees as you fell completely limp in his grasp, a small sound near a choked whimper leaving your lips.
He didn't ask immediately, just letting you breathe and keeping you close as he could. You sniffled, and before you could stop, a sob ripped from your throat, like a wave of.... something tight and restricted that you had been holding onto for far too long. He curled tighter around you, kissing your temple.
"I missed you, baby." He whispered softly. "I hate not being with you." He sighed.
"I missed you so much more." You sniffled, gasping faintly as you hiccupped.
"Wanna tell me about what's wrong?" He asked quietly. "I know I was gone, but... you don't normally react like this." He mumbled, pulling back to gently wipe your cheeks and cup your face in his hands.
"I just.." you hiccupped a little, swallowing harshly. "I got scared."
He paused, raising a brow as he felt you begin to calm down, your tears slowing. He let your words hang, struggling to decipher what they meant. Scared? Of what? Him dying? He chuckled lightly at the thought. "There's no reason to be afraid. I'm good at my job, and I'll always come home to you."
"I don't doubt your skills, but... you were gone for so, so long. I was worried you'd left, or.."
"Left?" He questioned, interrupting your explanation. You looked at Leon, heart dropping in realization. Of all the things Leon knew, you had yet to explain certain... troubles that lingered within your being.
"Me. I was—I don't know, I guess I got scared that you'd gotten tired of me and went on to find someone else but you'd lied and told me it was a mission when it was really you leaving me because I'm too much." Your words came out rushed, and Leon could watch the color rising to your cheeks, fear and shame filling your body in a violent warmth that made you scoot out of his lap because the touch of his warm skin had begun to burn.
"Woah, why—what—why would I ever do that?" He asked, hesitating as he reached out for you again. He pulled his hands back, brows furrowing. "I couldn't be paid to leave you. Not even with all the money in the world."
"Well, that's.." You paused, clearing your throat awkwardly. "That's a nice thought." You mumbled, slowly rising to your feet as you wiped your cheeks and rubbed at your face with a heavy, loaded exhale.
He stood after you, watching carefully as you fixed your shirt and turned back to him, but now you seemed almost hesitant to meet his gaze properly. Before he could reach out and ask for your hands, you scurried off toward the kitchen, gesturing for him to sit down. Leon never liked that you seemed to take over the kitchen, but you insisted it was part of you showing your love for him, so he only ever offered help, never pushed.
He found his way to the makeshift bed—nest?—of a couch, getting comfortable next to where you'd clearly been curled up previously. He heard some rummaging and electrical whirring of whatever appliance you were using—probably the microwave—from the kitchen. He sighed, turning his head to watch and waiting for you to come back. It wasn't very late, so all you had to do for his dinner was just warm it back up and bring it to him.
The food you warmed up was just from an hour or two ago, a meal of grilled chicken with lemon pepper seasoning, a side of roasted broccoli and potatoes cut up into wedges and likely air fried. When you came back, he smiled, that smooth curl of his lips, which were chapped from the mission—likely dehydration and not remembering or caring to use the small chapstick you'd bought him.
You settled onto the couch and handed him the plate. He looped an arm over your waist, tugging you in for a side hug, kissing your temple. "Thank you, honey." He mused, hand gently soothing over your hip as he set the plate in his lap and took a bite from the broccoli. "Mmh," he hummed, leaning his head against yours.
"Good?" You asked quietly.
"Amazing. It always is." He reassured quietly.
You didn't say anything for a while. You let him eat as the TV played quietly in the background. He watched it in silence, but as he eventually finished his food, he set the plate on the coffee table, and when he turned to you, you knew he had questions. You looked down at your lap, groaning inwardly.
"You're still confused. I can see it on your face."
"You aren't even looking at me." He laughed a little.
"I can feel it in the air." You corrected with an eye roll.
"Mmh." He hummed. "Okay, so, you know I've got some questions, I assume?"
"Everyone does. Most people don't question my issues because normally they don't have to. Normally I can keep things at bay and not have to—"
"Woah, slow down a second." He eased, reaching out to grab your fidgety hands and letting you squeeze his instead of leaving deep cresent shaped marks in your palms.
"I'm sorry." You whispered, breath becoming shaky.
"Let's slow it down. You don't need to panic. Whatever it is, I signed up for it. The good, the bad, and everything in between, so long as I get to be yours." He leaned in to kiss your forehead, pulling back to look at you.
"I'm just worried you'll get... freaked out. It's.. it gets to be a lot, even just the base of it." You looked down, your hands easing their grip and letting them settle in your lap, still holding gently around his.
"Let's start simple."
"Simple." You snorted, shoulders bouncing a bit with a little laugh. "Just ask a question."
"Okay. And remember, just because I ask, doesn't mean you have to answer." He paused, watching you nod softly. "So.. you thought I was going to leave you. I know I was gone longer than normal, but... I'm worried that we didn't prepare properly. I worry that I don't know things that I need to know in order to keep you steady."
"There's... some stuff." You mumbled. "Possibly...heavily connected with my father.."
Leon blinked. "Your father?"
"Yeah, yeah, it's a shock I had one. He left when I was young." You grumbled a bit.
"It's—" He chuckled at your little quip. "It's not a shock. It's a shock you're mentioning him. You mentioned him... I dunno, once? And I don't know any other family related to you."
"That's probably best. Things didn't... stay good with all of us."
"We'll start with what was connected to your father. What... what connects to him and you being afraid of me leaving?" He asked, situating so that you could more properly face each other.
"Well, we could start with the... physical aspect of the trauma, or we could start with the mental and emotional aspect. Whichever one probably connects to my abandonment issues."
"Okay, so, I'm picking up that your father wasn't great."
"If you think great means abusing me, filling my head with constant verbal abuse, leaving for weeks on end and coming back like nothing happened, oh, and we can't forget the last time he told me I'd forever be a useless little girl who could never support herself so she'd likely fall into drugs or alcohol. And then he left. He's probably dead. Part of me hopes he is. Then yes, that means he was great." You spat the last part sarcastically, exhaling sharply.
It all came out at once, so when the silence fell, it was tense, thick, and almost violent. Leon didn't give you a look—not pity, not shock, not disgust. He just listened and gave you space to process your own confession.
"I've never told anyone that." You exhaled quietly.
"How do you feel?"
"Raw."
"That's a very interesting word choice."
"Raw. Naked. Bare. Unprotected. I feel like—" You brought a hand up, patting your chest and searching for your necklace, which had been forgotten in the bathroom earlier in the evening. "I feel like I have nothing to hide anymore. Like there's been some kind of—I-I don't know." You swallowed tightly, brows furrowing.
"Okay. Can I tell you something?" He asked quietly.
"Yeah..?" You whispered quietly, voice tight.
"All of that stuff that your deadbeat father left with you, I'm not doing any of that. Ever. Not even if someone bribed me with the kind of money that could make me immortal somehow."
"I know you're not!" You squeaked out. "I just—it scares me, okay? You're the only person I've managed to hold onto for so long, without drama, or new trouble, or having to fear that I'd somehow chase you off."
"I know," he murmured, pulling you in to straddle his lap so he could hold you closer. "And all of your fears are valid and understandable."
"But?"
"No buts. Just an add-on to make sure you know that whatever happens, whatever you've been through, you will never move from where you've burrowed into my heart. There's a spot right here," he took your hand, placing it against his chest so you could feel his heart beat, steady and slow, perfectly relaxed, like your vague dump hadn't done anything to him. "And it's yours in every life."
"I'm sorry." You whispered, eyes watering slightly as you stifled a tiny squeak in your throat. Your palm flexed slightly, fingers spreading out over the expanse of his chest, pressing deeper into the squishy flesh beneath the shirt.
"No, I'll have none of that. You have no reason to be apologetic. Just because your father was a piece of shit doesn't mean it has to stick with you."
"I wish it didn't stick with me the way it did." You mumbled.
"That's the way it goes sometimes. And.. given you haven't told anyone else, it's... it's gonna leave a bit of a mark."
"I don't want it to."
"Well, now it doesn't have to. We can go through it. Slowly. Together. And maybe..."
"If you suggest therapy, I might make you sleep on the couch." You said bluntly, blinking at him.
He snickered, both hands coming to brush hair out of your face. "Okay, no therapy. For now, will you let me help you?"
You stayed quiet, hesitant, looking off to the side as you slightly rocked side to side, taking a moment to think about it. Leon waited, hands gently kneading against your shoulders and moving to soothe along the nape of your neck.
"It will take time, and patience, and so much love," he paused, tilting your face to look back at him. "But I've grown to be an expert at all of those times when it promises more life with you."
"Buttering me up won't change my answer, dummy." You giggled at his sweet, cheesy reassurance, only to lean forward and fall into the familiar comfort of his chest.
You both let the living room fill with silence—easy, comfortable, loving silence. By the time you made up your mind, the question had been almost forgotten, but you still wished to make it clear to him. When he was ready to head to bed for the night, you followed behind him to the bathroom to get ready for bed with him. Brushing your teeth, you spit out the foamy toothpaste, only to wipe your lips and turn to him.
"If you swear on everything you've ever loved that your patience won't wear thin and whatever you find out about me and my needs or my bad habits won't scare you away—"
"I swear on my life. On your life. On my entire bloodline—past, present, and future—and everything I have and will ever love." He said bluntly, his swear interrupting your conditions. You blinked.
"I didn't even finish."
"It doesn't matter. I'll swear on whatever you want if it means you'll let me in." He leaned forward to gently kiss your forehead, only for you to push him away before he could make contact.
"Toothpaste on your mouth." You reminded him, only to make him laugh and lean over the sink to spit. He rinsed his mouth out and dried his lips, only for you to grasp his chin gently. His beard, long overdue for a trim, scraped and scratched along your fingers and palm as you used your finger to apply vaseline to his chapped lips. He never used any kind of skin care on missions, given he usually wasn't able to. So now it was your chance to give his lips life and moisture again.
"Can I please kiss you now?" He waited patiently, rubbing his lips together as you applied some of the vaseline to your own lips before you leaned up and accepted a kiss finally. Without a warning, Leon grabbed you by the hips and hoisted you onto the bathroom counter, making you squeak as he stood between your legs.
"What are you—"
"Hush." He murmured, kissing you softly, eyes fluttering closed as you both relaxed. There was no rush or hunger, just a fondness alongside the love that never diminished with time. "I love you." He whispered softly, gently nipping at your lower lip before he let go and looked at you.
"I love you." You murmured back, rubbing your lips together, mixing the vaseline and lingering saliva from the kiss.
"So... your father wasn't a steady presence for you?" He asked.
"Not even close." You shook your head, leaning into him to hide your face. "He'd leave for weeks at a time. Sometimes, he'd tell us he loved us and that he'd be home soon, but other times, he would..." you trailed off, brows furrowing as you brought your hands to clutch at Leon's shirt.
"Right here, honey." He reminded gently, soothing over your upper arms.
"Other times, he'd leave after one of his fits." You finished, exhaling slowly as you closed your eyes.
"Fits?"
"Fits of anger. Frustration. Anything he could use as an excuse. If I wasn't caught up on chores or homework, he was angry. If I was too slow or if I needed help, he was annoyed and frustrated." You explained quietly, head shifting to stare at the wall behind Leon. Two towels hung up—one dark, navy blue, and the other a softer orange color. Next to those towels were also two robes—his robe matched his navy blue towel, but yours was a dark red color unlike your orange towel. The simplicity of that sight made your shoulders ease.
"I'm sorry." He murmured, hands coming to rub up and down your back. "You didn't deserve any of that. You never have."
"Wait until you hear what he did during those fits." You snorted, finding humor in how he already felt bad for you and your past.
"Hon," he pulled back with a frown. "not funny."
"Kinda is." You looked off to the side, lips pursing to stifle a giggle. It wasn't actually funny, but in order for you to cope with the resurfacing of everything, you had to laugh.
"God, you're insufferable." He rolled his eyes and lifted you into his arms to carry you into the bedroom to find a comfortable spot in your shared bed. Again, another sight of simple domesticity—your jackets hung up behind the bedroom door. Your small vanity littered with his cologne and deodorant and his brush and that dumb electric razor that he rarely used, his products mixed sweetly with your makeup and skincare and routine stuff. You curled tighter into him, and he returned the squeeze.
"Promise me you won't leave." You whispered, voice shaky.
"Pinky promise." He mused, leaning back to curl around you. "I've got you. Forever and always. In this life and the next." He hummed. "No matter how bad your daddy issues are." He joked.
You smacked his arm. "Too soon, jackass."
Leon laughed, watching you roll your eyes with an undeniable faint smile. "Alright, no more daddy issue jokes. Let's go to bed. I'm exhausted and I missed sleeping in a warm bed." He muttered.
"Will you go get the big comforter from the couch? And my special pillow?" You asked quietly, listening to him exhale lazily.
"Yes, I'll go grab it from your makeshift nest." He teased. "The flat pillow, right?"
"Mhmm." You nodded. He untangled himself from your grasp, kissing your cheek as he departed. You shuffled closer to the middle of the bed, pushing onto your knees so you could open the window that sat behind the headboard of the bed frame. It always got too hot without the window open because Leon was basically a human heater. You still questioned whether or not he had a fever sometimes, but he never did. That man had the immune system of the Gods.
He came back, comforter looped around one arm, your special pillow tucked under the other. You situated and sat upright, waiting for him to lay the items down. He switched the regular pillow for yours, fixing the pillow case and gesturing for you to get comfy. He laid down the comforter and then crawled in with you, exhaling heavily with relief.
"All set?" He asked quietly, reaching behind him to turn off the bedside lamp.
"Mhmm." You nodded, following his body and curling into his touch. He turned the lamp off and shifted closer to you, arms engulfing you in a warm, secure embrace.
"Mmh, goodnight."
"Goodnight."
"I love you so much." He added quietly. Due to your exhaustion, you simply tapped his shoulder blade three times to say it back without having to put in extra energy.
based on this request--to my requester, I hope I was able to breathe life into your fantasy, thank you so much for stopping by :)
a/n: I'm finally getting back into the groove of writing. tried to keep this short and sweet, I know my drabbles have been anything but recently. anyway...please enjoy and know that my inbox is always open if you have a wicked idea you'd like me to explore
It wasn’t long into your relationship with Leon that things started to get physical. One look at the man with the dress shirt he begrudgingly wore to work with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, or those suit pants that contoured his form a little too perfectly, and you were ready to pounce like a tiger on its prey. All it took was one movie night at your apartment where the two of you were snuggled up like bugs in a rug on the sofa, sharing the warmth of one blanket to keep the winter chill seeping through the windows at bay.
A round of sharing each other’s saliva, hands roaming past the point of no return, and a clumsy trek into the bedroom on shaky legs. Things were bound to proceed as hot and heavy as they began.
After stripping you down to your underwear, Leon gently nudged you onto the bed, and your lips immediately missed the warmth and softness of his own as he stood above you just to sink down onto his knees a moment later to pull down your panties. With his hands on either of your thighs, he drove them apart, and then he took a second to manually adjust your hips on the edge of the mattress, setting you into place for him to begin his ministrations.
He started with a long lick from the bottom of your entrance all the way up to your clit, the bud pulsing in anticipation. His tongue laid flat against it as he continued to lap like a kitten at a bowl of milk, small, gentle strokes to warm you up.
Then, when he was satisfied with how wet you had gotten beneath him, how your hips were jolting, your body writhing like a live wire, he began to eat.
You had never experienced a man who lived up to the name of the act, devouring your pussy like it was his last meal on earth and he had to make every drop count. He did it with such a ferocious hunger, you were certain it was more for his pleasure than your own.
He started by sliding his down your folds, licking the nerves on either side of your clit in between hungry licks at your seam. It made your body jerk, and your abdomen tense. Groaning against your pussy, he stuck the tip of the muscle past your entrance, tonguing your insides as if testing to see how far he could go. The sensation was euphoric, and your climax was nigh and fast-approaching.
Early into your relationship, you were worried how this would go. With every man before Leon, it would take hours for you to finish, if you did at all. Even by yourself, with your own fingers, or the help of a battery-powered friend, your orgasm was as elusive as a butterfly, always out of arm’s reach.
Whether Leon was experienced or whether it was written into his biology to know exactly which buttons to press, which spot to lick, you didn’t care. Just as long as he didn’t stop.
And he didn’t.
He continued to consume you after your first, second, and third climax, his tongue far from worn, his mouth far from tired.
“Leon,” you whined, clawing at the sinew of his shoulderblades through the fabric of his t-shirt. Your fingers dug into his skin, pulled at his hair; you pleaded for some reprieve, though he didn’t overlook the lack of surety in your voice, and continued to work. The moans that escaped your throat were like the sound of a flare gun at the starting line of a race.
In turn, the sounds he made against your pussy pushed you over the edge…yet again, until you were screaming out his name, and you felt as though you could either fall through the layers of cotton and fluff in the mattress, or ascend to the heavens to live among the stars behind your eyes.
After the waterworks of your last orgasm, you were probably drowning the man, though you’re certain, by the way he’s been dining on you for the last hour, he wouldn’t mind dying a hero’s between your legs.
He retreated, an obscene sheen of sweat and arousal painted across his chin and mouth. His chest heaved with each labored breath he sucked in, his shoulders consequently rising and falling. Strands of dark blonde hair were sticking up in all directions, a tousled mess at your own hands. Surely he was done, you thought. That is, until he wiped away the moisture on his face with his forearm and lunged past you onto the mattress, his head propped up by a pillow, hands expectantly grasped on his abdomen.
“Sit on my face,” he said, with a smile as big as the moon.
Domestic Leon Kennedy Reviewing Classified Intelligence While Listening to Every Word You Say
You'd been jabbering away for the better part of ten minutes.
Leon sat at the kitchen island, one elbow on the counter, eyes fixed on the report glowing from his laptop. Every now and then he scrolled, brow furrowing at something only he could see.
Meanwhile, you were halfway through explaining the plot of the story you're 150,000 words into finishing. You've hit a hiccup. Need some directional advice.
"...and then I thought maybe she'd leave instead of confessing, but I don't know if that feels earned..."
You wait approximately 1 second for a response, then look over.
He hadn't even glanced your way.
You frowned.
"You even listening to me, Leon?"
"'Course I am, sweetheart."
His eyes never left the screen.
"Oh." You turned back toward the coffee maker, suddenly feeling a little foolish. "Never mind."
The room went quiet. Then, a long sigh drifted across the kitchen.
His chair scraped against the floor.
Before you could ask what he was doing, one strong arm slipped around your waist.
"Leon!"
The world tilted.
He hefted you over his shoulder with practiced ease, carried you back across the kitchen, and dropped into his chair.
Then, just as naturally, he settled you sideways across his lap.
"There," he murmured.
You looked up at him.
His report was still open.
"So," he said, scrolling with one hand while the other rested absentmindedly around your waist, "if she leaves instead of confessing..." He glanced at you for the first time all morning, "...I think it'll strengthen your theme of longing."
You blinked.
"It also makes the project more marketable, my clever little writer."
"...You were listening."
He turned back to his computer and scrolled down.
"I usually am." He scrolled again. "Now, keep talking."
A/N: If Leon Kennedy had to listen to you ramble about your WIP for an hour, what would he accidentally become an expert on? What is the one thing you desperately need someone to ask you about?
thinking about re9! leon kennedy with an extremely gen z brain rotted partner . . .
you’re laying on the couch, dressed with the stupidest shirt you could find, and leon has just gotten out of the shower after an entire day spent running after idiots that somehow managed to govern his state when he saw you, giggling at the screen while a ringtone echoes in the apartment.
“what’s up? who’s calling you?” he asks in that stupidly hot voice of his, walking closer.
“john pork,” you say, showing him the video. leon can only sigh and shake his head, sitting down with you.
“and you’re laughing because…?” he raises an eyebrow. “it’s supposed to be funny?”
“it is funny, leon,” you say, bringing the phone closer to your face. dangerously so. your-corneas-are-going-to-catch-fire type of close. leon, poor innocent man that was just hoping to spend the night with you, laid down right next to you and the two of you rolled around until you got comfortable laying against his chest. he watches you scroll through tiktok and after ten minutes, he stops a video.
a fish with a cat’s face with written ‘fih’ on top, and the same ringtone from before. he feels your shoulders shake, and groans. “that’s- that’s a cat fish calling. it’s not funny, baby.”
“it is! you’re just old and don’t understand this!” you contest through laughter, and helpless, he wiggles his way out because just from a few videos on your fyp he felt his brain melting and needed a drink.
but just as he walked into the kitchen, you put down your phone and called out for him. “leon?”
he takes a deep breath in and slowly peeks his head out of the doorway, glancing at you. “yes, sweetheart?”
little did he know, you were actually recording him to post online later. “are you gonna give me some of that kennedih later?”
leon’s lips purse, his brows furrow. “kennedih- what’s a-” but he stops, knowing that it’s probably something stupid. without answering, he disappears back into the kitchen.
“go to sleep, y/n.”
you giggle. “but what about the kennedih?”
“i’m taking your phone away. and i’m not gonna get you a kennedih.”
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 👀
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 ♡
older!leon kennedy x fem!reader drabble (nsfw below the cut!)
(not proofread, sorry!)
you lie on leon as the two of you unwind from your day. for the first time in years, leon’s finally getting a break from work. a deep sigh rumbles from within his chest—not of exhaustion for once, but contentment.
adjusting your position on his mid-section, just below his chest, you look toward his hand rested on his thigh. the other, stroking your hair gently. the screen played some mindless reality tv, something leon enjoyed shockingly because it distracted him from all else in the world.
his large calloused hand sat sprawled on his thigh, silently playing with the loose thread on his sweats. you could make out all the aged lines, the hard work they’ve been through. the veins like wires throughout his hand—hm.
you gently take his hand into your own, stroking the back of his hand with your own soft one. there was a stark difference between his hand and your own.
“all good?” his voice rumbles from behind.
“mhm,” you hum quietly.
then, you gently bring his fingers to your lips. laying small kisses along the fingers. leon watches, hand now removed from your hair and elbow resting on the armrest of the couch. his ice blue eyes narrow, a small tilt of his head.
the kissing deepens against his fingers, you feel his fingers flex beneath your lips. an invitation.
you take that invitation—because of course. then bringing his index finger past your lips, tongue licking gently around the finger. you feel leon’s breathing change ever so slightly.
the texture rough yet soft—a strange contrast yet, very pleasing against your wet tongue. you deepen his finger, then feeling a tap against your cheek. he moves his ring finger into your mouth.
his middle and index finger now coated in your saliva, tongue sucking and making obscene noises throughout the bedroom, the tv long forgotten.
a quiet hum of satisfaction leaving leon as he watched you move against his fingers. he then takes more control, moving his fingers in and out of your mouth. you make a noise against the two fingers.
“didn’t know you liked this so much… woulda done something like this sooner sweetheart,” he says quietly.
pulling away, you look up at him. your lips wet and swollen from sucking his fat fingers. he gives a small smile, not quite a smirk. he was admiring your lust blown irises and flushed cheeks.
“pretty…” he says, wet fingers stroking your cheek. you give him the sweetest smile… god, how could he say no to that.
“think your ready for somethin’ bigger baby?” he tilts his head, voice low.
God, you are so sexy, fucking yourself on my biceps like a desperate whore
𖦹୭˚.🍓 ᵎᵎ｡𖦹°‧𖦹୭˚.🍓 ᵎᵎ｡𖦹°‧𖦹୭˚.🍓 ᵎᵎ｡𖦹°‧𖦹୭˚.🍓 ᵎᵎ｡𖦹°‧
18+, mdni, dirty talk, language, bicep riding, jerking off, mutual maturation of sort, desperate leon, needy×reader, vile, expect errors and mistakes
Note : all pictures are from Pinterest, ALWAYS, and dividers credit goes to their real owner :)
𖦹୭˚.🍓 ᵎᵎ｡𖦹°‧𖦹୭˚.🍓 ᵎᵎ｡𖦹°‧𖦹୭˚.🍓 ᵎᵎ｡𖦹°‧𖦹୭˚.🍓 ᵎᵎ｡𖦹°‧
You were completely flushed and a little breathless sitting comfortably on Leon's arms, your thighs completely straddling them as his arms lays flat beneath you, and you press your soaking core against the hard ridge of Leon's bicep, feelings every twitch of his vein as he groans your name, closing his eyes in ecstasy.
It was filthy: what you two were doing... but did it ever matter when two people were completely in love?
Nope. Never.
So, you finally start to grind your hips, riding his huge biceps feeling them flex and twitch as he, croons, and praises you, "my, pretty whore is doing, s' perfect, almost like a practiced little slut."
You close your eyes starting to lose yourself in the trance of your mixed rhythm.
Then he smirks hazily and lying flat on the mattress, completely bare and exposed to the room ceiling, his chest heaves as he inhaled and exhaled sharp heaves of breath in the quiet room, while his other free hand wrapped tightly around his thick and pulsing cock, giving it a clumsy stroke, and soon enough the scent of salt of both of your skin, and musk fills the air, heavy almost cloying; on the verge of making you tear up.
"God, your pussy is way too drenched, its soaking my fucking biceps," Leon rasps, his voice a low, gravelly growl and he chuckles in between squeezing his cock and stroking it up and down, making the foreskin of his cock "move" with his palm, "Do my arms, turns you on that much, sweetheart?" He breathes.
"Ye..yeah, baby," your voice cracks as you giggle slightly shifting your hips and grinding yourself until your clit presses deeply into the flexed muscle of his arm, making you jump out of your skin. "Your arms, your cock, everything you own, makes me so fucking wet."
"Fuck, keep talking like that, and the next moment, you know my cock, will be fucking you until you forget to breathe." He said, closing his eyes and continuing with the strokes on his shaft.
You could not process his words, because—"Oh leon fuck fuck fuck!" You hit the right spot, again.
you breathe hard as your clit stimulates itself from his arms overwhelming you way too much, while it rubbed over his arms, and your entrance slides over his arms in obscene squelching rhythms.
Holy mary— his strength was something , you think, grinding hard and fast upon his arms, because how could he let you ride his arms and there was not a single strain on his face that must have said— that i am done, that you were heavy, that my arms are tired, instead he easily let you ride them.
God you loved this man. More than yourself.
"Fuck—move harder. I want to feel your cunt sliding against me." Leon's voice pulls you out of your mind and his head tilts, eyes locked on where your body grind on his arms.
Then he loosens his grip on his shaft just enough to reach and roll his palm over his balls, squeezing them inside his palm and his thighs convulse with a shudder that rips through him. His fist returns to his cock, stroking furiously now— so fast his breath hitches, your name breaking from his lips in a ragged moan as he throws his head back, gasping at the ceiling.
You nod dumbly, your chin pressing between your shoulder blades and shift your weight as your folds slides over him and, the friction creates a wet, squelching sound that echoes in the silence of the room, and you feel the popping vein of his arm brushing against your sensitive swollen, folds, driving you toward the edge, and you grumble his name, loudly, almost like a orison.
"Eyes on me, while you ride me," he commands.
Then slowly you lifted your sweat covered face, and meet his blown-out pupils. "Tell me what you feel, sweetheart, when your cunt is trying to devour my arms.", he grunts and slowly rubs the tip of his cock with his thumb, though as he do his eyes never leave yours.
"I can feel the veins in your arms, Leon." Your voice cracks, breathless. "I'm so swollen, twitching—fuck, I need it. Fuck!" The words tear out of you desperate as you grind down harder, desperate and shameless. "I want you inside me—right fucking now." You're moaning now, begging him with same blown-pupil eyes, dumb and fucked-out despite not even having touched his cock yet, and here you were already unraveling just from the friction of his arms against your core.
He lets out a sharp exhale, completely content with how desperate you were for him, then he tilts his head, staring at the ceiling and his grip on himself tightening as he pumps his length with a rhythmic, wet slap, and finally as you roll your hips you watch him completely fucked, and his pre-cum glints on the head of his cock, under the dim light, sliding down the shaft with every stroke.
Your eyes finally fall shut, and you surrender to the sensation. You feel your walls flutter, wet and desperate, like a pulse beating against him. "Leon—god, Leon, I'm gonna cum!" you cry out, voice breaking as the heat pools in your clit, spreads deep into your lower belly. You're right there, teetering on the edge, so close—
"Not yet, keep rubbing that pretty little cunt and stop right when you are gonna cum i want us to cum together. Please" he said it almost as a whimper, god how much you loved him when he made that sound.
You breathe sharply in response, as your movement slows and so does his and he makes little noises, completely lost in feeling of you on his arms, "God, you are so sexy, fucking yourself on my biceps like a desperate whore"
You chuckled, and a loud moan tore through your throat, "I am twitching! I'm almost there," you cry out, your hips snapping forward on his biceps, your clit rubbing at his popping veins, in a frantic rhythm. "Oh fuck--!"
"I'm right there with you, come all over me." He crooned, and accelerates the friction of his palm against his shaft as it becomes a blur of motion. You arch your back, your core clamping down on him as the first wave of the orgasm crashes over you. You scream his name, your internal walls pulsing violently against his bicep, and your toes curls on the sheet, as your orgasm takes over you and after it hits you still ride his arms, chasing the high, and sob, "Leon— I love you." You chant it repeatedly, as you keep your hips rolling until the aftershocks finally stops.
"Fuck, look at you, that was so good, you did so good my little slut." He praises again, jerking himself faster, as his eyes flutter shut "I love you too, more than life itself" he breathes out.
And now you watch him, rubbing himself, and lord was that a sight? It was. No, it was a fucking outstanding view, which you wished you captured in your mobile.
Then Leon lets out a guttural shout, his entire body stiffening, his hips jerking upwards, and he thrusts his hand one last time, a thick rope of cum erupting from his tip, splashing across his stomach and chest in heavy, white burst, and you watch it unfold like someone who just found their favourite place.
You did. It was this, and him.
He groans, squeezing his cock one last time, and the sound vibrating through the mattress as he collapses back into it right back while still having you sitting on his arms.
"Damn," he whispers, breathless and spent, his cum dripping from his chest towards the sheet. "That was something."
"It was." You agreed, finally closing your eyes: while leaning and falling over his chest, your nipples brushing over his shoulders and you put your ears onto his chest, listening to his fluttering heartbeat, that matched the rhythm of your own.
summary you’re home alone waiting for the day to end in order to see your boyfriend again but doomscrolling turns out to be the worst decision as your way of passing time makes you want him even more when you stumble across an edit of your popular favourite footballer
tangentwithtanner
origamiaround
yousharknotpass
baratheonpilled
janainaart
romaincrisis
kaledo-art
