โ yours truly, ๐ธ๐ช๐ด๐ฒ๐ฎ. 20s. she/they. slow writer. professional yapper. sundayโs angel. anaxaโs starlight. leon's nuisance. bladie's forevermore.
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โ she asks that i tell you to remember herโ
โyou won't. โ
prev known as rinneverse!
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HIII YUE <3 i saw ur rb on one of my fics so i just wanted to drop by and say i miss u tons!!!!! i hope ur doing so well beloved :3
OAKIE!!!!!!! oh my goodness im ngl i had to do a double take after seeing you in my notifs ๐ฅน๐ HI MY ANGEL I HOPE YOUโVE BEEN WELL AND 2026 I TREATING YOU AMAZINGLY! iโve def missed you and your presence lots on the dash TT
oh my god the an*xa brainworms got you THATS SO EXCITING I REALLY LOVE HIM BAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and ur tags are so sweet stop im blushing so bad omgomgomgomg <3 i hope 2026 is treating u so kindly u deserve the entire world +++more
summary: leon would not describe himself as good or kind, and he's cut open and bleeding at your feet, but you know he can be gentle | leon kennedy x f!reader
word count: 6.2k
warnings: a sickening amount of yearning, leon taking care of you, seriously this guy is down bad, leon being self deprecating, alternating povs, acts of service as a love language, mentions of injuries, sherry birkin appearance /// 18+ MDNI, SMUT!!!, unprotected piv, oral (f receiving), creampie by technicality, trust me there's plot, this is LOVE MAKING at its core
notes: re9 gave me the leon bug BAD. personally, I wrote this with DI!leon in mind but re9!leon also works here bc that old man's still got it | ao3
โThat was stupid,โ Leon says, hauling you into him. The words arenโt unkind, but theyโre not gentle either. You stumble against him.
โHave I been known to be anything else?โ you ask. He grunts. โBesides, Iโve got you to take care of me,โ
He doesnโt respond. He finds a quiet spot, a reclusive corner where he can assess the damage. Thereโs a wicked gash along your side, cutting from near your navel up towards your ribs. It makes your vision tunnel when you finally lay eyes on it. You hadnโt known how bad it was. His fingertips are gentle around the surrounding skin.
โYouโre lucky evac is two minutes out,โ he says. His voice is hushed, like heโs telling you a secret. Maybe he is.
โYeah?โ you ask, a breathy noise that youโre not certain you could recreate. The sound is deep, rooted in desperation and blood loss. Leonโs eyes flick up at you from where heโs crouched, icy gaze cutting through his lashes. He looks pretty like this, bent low in front of you, looking at you with something you canโt place. It makes you shiver.
โYouโre losing blood,โ he says. You nod.
โGonna give me yours?โ you tease. Your vision tunnels a bit, and you slump forward. Leon catches you, pulling you flush against him. He smells like sweat and cedar and smoke, something that nearly lulls you into sleep. You hear a distant rumble as the building continues to crumble.
He helps you out of the derelict building. Youโre barely even walking, just sort of stumbling beside him as he carries most of your weight, and you feel strangely guilty for making him do all the work. The helicopterโs blades never slow as it touches the ground. Leon helps you into your seat, guiding you gently. Heโs soft as he slides the headphones over your ears, even going as far as to smooth a piece of hair out of your eyes. You can hardly keep them open.
โStay with me,โ he murmurs. It feels like a promise. โCanโt have you dying on me, now,โ
โThat would ruin your whole week,โ you say, trying to smile. Itโs a weak attempt at a joke, and he knows it. You can see tension make its home under Leonโs skin. It rears its head with every pull of muscle, every furrowed brow.
โWeโll be home soon,โ he says. You nod. Youโre not sure if heโs reassuring you or himself.
When you do finally land, youโre pulled away from him for medical attention. You fight as best as you can, attempting to sit in on the briefing, but Leon levels you with a gaze youโve never seen him wear, and you accept defeat. Thereโs two medics standing idly in the room, and they turn to see you hobble in, eyes widening.
โWhat the hell happened?โ one of them asks. You shrug, sitting down on the bed.
โCaught something sharp,โ you say. They lift your shirt, which is in ribbons. A shock of pain rips through you, and you stifle a groan.
They work quickly, giving you a tetanus shot. You wince as the needle sinks beneath your skin. The pain only adds to the rest of it searing through your muscles. Now that youโre sitting, adrenaline having dissipated, everything hurts. The gash oozes blood, which makes you feel dizzy. Your back hurts, your legs hurt, your side hurts. Every time they touch you, you suck in a breath.
Finally, youโre stitched up. They tell you to take it easy for a week, shove pain meds into your hands, and send you out the door. Leon leans against the opposite wall, watching his boots. He looks tired, run down. Heโs covered in dirt. Black streaks smear across his cheeks, his biceps. His hair falls like a golden frame over his eyes. You sigh.
He looks up then, watching you. He scans over your body, checking for any lingering injuries the medics managed to miss. You offer him a weak smile.
โNo hospital?โ he asks, pushing off the wall to meet you where you stand. His steps are heavy, tired. You shake your head. โGood. Letโs get you home,โ
You follow him out of the building. Itโs winding turns and desolate hallways until fresh air smacks you in the face. You take a deep breath, trying to let the residuals of the mission fall off of you. Leonโs car faces you, a beat up old Buickโhe refuses to get anything newerโand it stares at you like it knows something you donโt. You fit easily into the passenger seat, like you were made for it. You lean back against the headrest. You feel suddenly exhausted, like a two ton weight rests in your chest. You just want to sleep. The drive to your apartment isnโt long, and youโre counting down the seconds until youโll be able to slip into the shower and let the day wash down your back.
Leon helps you upstairs. You try to protest, tell him that the elevator isnโt going to exert you any more than the walk to the building itself, but he refuses to listen. He follows silently behind you until you reach your door. Heโs like a shadow as you enter the apartment, still bathed in the darkness of night. You hate to do it, but you turn on the light, flooding the room and making you wince. Leon holds your arm to keep you steady as you toe off your shoes.
โYou donโt have to babysit me, you know,โ you say, not looking at him. โThis isnโt the first time Iโve been hurt,โ
He doesnโt say anything for a long, pregnant moment. But then, โI would like it to be the last, preferably,โ
You huff a weak laugh, something hoarse and weary. โYou and me both, partner,โ
He follows you from room to room, picking things up as you drop them. Your right arm is effectively useless because any movement on that side sends shockwaves of pain through your entire body. You sigh heavily, fighting back tears. Leon stands in the threshold of your bathroom, holding your bundle of clothes and hairbrush. He looks at you with something you canโt identifyโnot quite pity, but something adjacent. He looks so pretty, so collected, even in his dirty state. You clutch your side.
โI can take it from here,โ you say, breathless. โIโll see you in a week,โ
Leon stares at you. His fingers fidget with the hem of your sleep shorts. He opens his mouth to say something, then shuts it again. Then, โDo you want help?โ
You blink at him. You hadnโt considered heโd be willing to help you. You hadnโt thought so far ahead as to know what youโd do to get out of your clothes.
With a breath, you say, โYes, please,โ
He nods wordlessly. Your clothes find their home as a heap on the sink counter. He pats the top of it once as if casting a spell to make them stay put. He turns to you then. Heโs broad, forces you to dial in on him. His hands linger at his sides like he doesnโt know what to do with them.
You lift your left arm above your head, a silent encouragement to get him to touch you. His hands fall on you like a caress. Gently, he lifts your shirt up. His knuckles brush against your side, making your breathing hitch. Heโs not watching you, fully focused on his task, but you canโt look away from him. He looks so focused, like one wrong move would paralyze you. He catches one end of the shirt in your armpit, pulling the other side out so you can slip your arm through. He helps ease your head through the collar, then pulls it off entirely via your other arm. He breathes in heavily through his nose at the expanse of skin heโs revealed. Then he takes a step back. You swallow thickly.
โI needโฆโ you mumble, brain rotting inside your skull. โI canโt reach-โ
โI got it,โ he says. The words sound broken on his tongue.
You spin for him, presenting the clasp of your bra. You purse your lips when his warm hands make contact with the smooth skin on your back. He makes surprisingly quick work of it. Within seconds, you feel it loosening around your ribs, a small blessing. You breathe out something heady and heavy.
โIโll be out there if you need anything,โ Leon says. He leaves little room for argument by bustling out of the room as quickly as he can. You blink.
The shower water is hot on your skin, but it feels good. You can feel the tension slipping down your shoulders in rivulets. Somehow, you manage to wash yourself one handed, which you feel mildly proud of. The steam loosens you. Itโs only when you step out of the water that you remember that you have to put a shirt on.
You struggle for what feels like hours. Every movement pulls on your stitches. Youโre near tears when you finally call out for Leon.
โYeah?โ he asks, cracking the bathroom door. You sniffle.
โI canโtโฆโ you say, taking a breath to recollect yourself. โI canโt get my shirt on,โ
โIโll help,โ he says. His voice is so soft, so intimate. He enters quietly, staring at anything that isnโt you.
The shirt looks miniscule in his hands. Carefully, almost reverently, he eases the collar over your head. His gaze still lingers just past your shoulder. You frown. You slip your good arm through the sleeve.
Leon finally looks at you. You nod, letting him know itโs okay to put his hands on you. You see the turmoil in his eyes, the need for consent.
โYou can touch me,โ you say, voice barely above a whisper. He nods once.
He grips the hem of the shirt, pulling as far down as the fabric will let him. Then, softly, he helps guide your arm through the sleeve. His fingers brush against you again, just along the curve of your breast, but the touch is electric, crackling with something unsaid. The moment is so intimate, so personal, you could burst into tears. Then the shirt is fully on your body. You wonder if Leon can hear your heart hammering against your chest. If he can, he doesnโt acknowledge it.ย
โThanks,โ you say, breathless. He nods. โI can handle the rest,โ
โYou sure?โ he asks. Thereโs no suggestion in his tone, and that almost makes it worse. You breathe heavily through your nose, nodding.
He stands there as you fumble with your hairbrush. Your lips are pursed as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Youโre barely halfway through the tangled strands before he stops you.
โLet me help,โ he saysโno begs. You glance at his reflection. He looks as wrecked as you feel. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, gaze unblinking as he waits for you.
โOkay,โ you say softly, voice hollow and breathy as you pass him the hairbrush.
Heโs gentle as he works the brush through your hair. His gaze remains focused on the wet strands, but yours is on him. His brow furrows slightly, that bottom lip pulled snugly between his teeth as he pulls on a particularly tough tangle. His eyes look so blue in the yellowing light above the mirror. The care he takes with you is enough to make you sick. His hands are frustratingly warm as they bump against the back of your neck. He never once pulls or yanks, never scrapes the bristles against your skin, never gets frustrated. He works until it is done, unwaveringly, and you didnโt expect anything less. The moment is so soft, so delicate, youโre afraid that something might break when you pull away.
โI think I got it,โ he says, soft as a whisper against you. You nod.
โThank you,โ you say. You stay idle for a moment, just watching him. He looks so unsure.
You think, in another lifetime, miles and miles away from here, that you couldโve loved him. Heโs funny when he wants to be, charming in a boyish sort of way. You count on him, but he doesnโt let it get to him. He gives because he thinks it a privilege that you let him. You reach up to wipe away some of the dirt still smudged on his face. He stiffens beneath your fingertips, not prepared for such affectionate contact.
He swallows thickly. You remove your hand, and you see him relax just a fraction.
โDo you need any more help?โ he asks in an almost broken way. You shake your head. โIโll see you later, then?โ
โYeah,โ
He ducks his chin at you, then shuffles out of the bathroom. You hear the front door open and click shut a moment later, leaving you alone in your apartment.
...
Leon is not sure that he would describe himself as kind or good. But on his drive home, as he thinks about your withered form presented to him in the dim light of your bathroom, looking up at him through your lashes like he was something holy, he starts to think that that doesnโt matter. It doesnโt matter if he is kind or good because you kept looking at him like he was all you ever needed. He can still feel your skin against his fingers, sending shivers down his spine.ย
Heโd frozen up. He knows that he probably looked ridiculous, like a flushed school boy who had just stumbled into the girlโs locker room by accident. Your skin had been so soft. The expanse of flesh heโd discovered beneath your tattered shirt lives in his brain as he shuffles into his apartment. The space is dark and empty. He has very few personal items, unlike you. His space looks abandoned, which he guesses it usually is. He really only uses this place to sleep and eat sometimes.ย
He crashes onto his couch, still unshowered and unclean. He just needs a moment, he tells himself. Just one moment, to collect the memories of you like precious items to set on his vacant shelves. The way you shivered against him when he brushed your side, the way you watched him, doe eyed, in the mirror as he brushed your hair, the humidity of the room clinging to you; they all go, framed and perfect, on shelves in his mind. He breathes out, something heavy and soft all at once.ย
Heโs unfamiliar with this feeling. He doesnโt know how to embrace it, so he decides that he shouldnโt. Heโs not sure he deserves something as sweet and gentle as you. Youโre better than him, in almost every way. You donโt let the job wear you down, you take pride in what you do. You tease him. The mercy and compassion you give him are foreign in his brain. And he feels so selfish for accepting every last scrap. He eats up the way you look at him, the way you laugh at his weak attempts at jokes, the way you worry after him even with a ten inch gash on your side that very easily couldโve gutted you. He is gluttonous and greedy and selfish. You are consuming him, and he is letting you. He shouldnโt. He shouldnโt let you plague him this way. He knows that it could all too soon be ripped away from him, but in this moment, in the dim light cast by the moon streaming through his curtains, he doesnโt care. A shudder rakes through his body, from head to toe.ย
It would be all too easy to blame you. He could curse you for whatever spell youโve cast to make him stupid in this way. But he knows the fault is his and his alone. Itโs his fault that he mistakes your casual compassion for anything more. Itโs his fault that he devours whatever good comes his way, just to corrupt and blacken it. And he doesnโt want to do that to you. He doesnโt want to see where this will end, even if he has before and knows it as intimately as he knows every other aspect of death and decay.
He tips his head back against the couch. Thereโs a crack in his popcorn ceiling, cutting through the expanse of white like a vein.ย
He knows heโs cut open and bleeding at your feet. Heโs wounded in a way that doesnโt make sense. He doesnโt want you to help him. Not because he doesnโt ache to feel your gentle hands smooth over his scarred flesh, working out the evil with every electrifying touch, but because he does, and that would make you the universeโs top priority.ย
He is cursed, a bad day after a worse one. And he knows that if he were to let you have him the way he wants, youโd become cursed too. Cursed with him and his aches and pains, his scars and bruises, his anger and resentment.ย
When he settles beneath the sheets that night, he dreams of you. He dreams of your soft skin against him, your laughter, your easy smiles. He dreams of the life he could have were it not for his exceedingly awful luck.
He could save you. He could prevent you from ever coming nearer. But that somehow feels like a worse, more torturous ending. And he is nothing if not selfish.
...
The next time you see Leon, itโs nearly a week later. The swelling on your side has gone down and most of the pain has subsided, but itโs still tense and unforgiving, especially so early in the morning. Thereโs little light coming through the curtains thanks to the steady stream of rain pelting the earth.
His hair is soggy, casting thick shadows over the high points of his face. Thereโs crystal droplets on the shoulders of his jacket, ones you want to reach out to shake off, but you refrain. He smiles at you, that gentle half smile he only ever wears when heโs half exhausted.ย
โCame to check on you,โ he says softly, words turned plush on the corners of his lips. You smile.
โUnfortunately, Iโve succumbed to sepsis. Youโre seeing a ghost,โ you joke. He rolls his eyes and pushes past you into the apartment.
He shakes off like a dog as he hangs his coat on the hook. A few rogue water droplets smatter your face. You take a moment to observe him. The lines of his body are rigid like thereโs something pulling him taught. For a moment, you ache to reach out and smooth your palms over his muscles, to help him relieve some of that tension. You wonder if thatโs something that would be okay, if he would welcome your touch. There is a line that stands between you, and youโre not sure which side of it you reside on.ย
โAnything interesting happen in the week that Iโve been gone?โ you ask, leaning against the back of the couch.
Leon hums, pursing his lips as he thinks back on the last few days. โThereโs a new coffee machine in the break room,โ
You huff a laugh. โCanโt wait to try that baby out,โ
Silence stretches thick between you, like a rope thatโs been left out in the rain. You watch him move with careful precision, finding where would be the best place to exist within. You wonder why he never seems to relax, even in your space. You wonder if he knows how much you care. Subconsciously, you run the pads of your fingers over your injury. Itโs a rough stretch of skin now, bubbled with scar and scab. You frown.
โDoes it hurt?โ he asks, suddenly standing again to get to your side. He catches your wrist where it hovers near the tear.
You shrug. โOnly when I think about it,โ
He purses his lips and emits a low hum, giving you a once over. โHave a fever at all?โ
You shake your head. He nods, once and curt, before dropping your wrist and stepping away from you.ย
โDo you need any help?โ Leon asks, avoiding your gaze by scanning around the room. โAny chores that have been neglected? Any errands I can run for you?โ
You feel the corner of your mouth tick up in a small smile. Shaking your head, you say, โNo, Leon. Iโve been able to manage on my own,โ
โI know,โ he says. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing on the soft flesh there in thought. Then, soft as a whisper, he says, โI was worried about you,โ
You feel your heart catch in your throat. You think back to the way he looked at you that night, like you were broken before him and he couldnโt do anything to fix you. You think about how gentle he was with you, how careful he was like you were bursting at the seams. You see his cheeks turn a tinge of pink as the silence stretches thick between you. You reach out, placing a flat palm against his chest. Thereโs no sound in the apartment, just the rain outside and your own heavy breathing.
โYou donโt need to worry about me, Leon,โ you say, just as soft. โI know youโll always take care of me,โ
He swallows, something heavy and unsaid, and nods. โI will,โ
It feels like a promise. It feels like a vow.
With an intake of breath, you say, โAnything on our docket?โ
Leon purses his lips. โNot on yours,โ he says. You frown. โYouโre on light duty for a while,โ
You twist your face up in a nasty expression, which makes Leon smile a fraction. โI donโt like that,โ
โThatโs what I figured youโd say,โ he says. He moves around you to finally sit down. Youโre almost surprised as he gets comfortable on your couch. You move to join him. โI tried to tell Hunnigan you wouldnโt go down easy,โ
โI canโt imagine I have much choice,โ you say, grumbling. โDid they say for how long?โ
Leon shakes his head. โCould be a while,โ
You groan.
โHey,โ he says, gently. โYou took a hard hit. Itโs either office duty or a grave,โ
You scowl at him, and he flashes you a smile. โPromise me you wonโt get yourself killed while Iโm gone,โ
He makes a motion over his chest. Cross my heart.
The next week, Leon is shipped out to God knows where. They wonโt tell you, probably afraid youโd commandeer a craft to chase after him. Youโre checking in with Hunnigan by the hour, who tells you youโre being paranoid. How can you not be? Heโs out there, alone, doing something, something dangerous, and youโre stuck writing reports and drinking watered down coffee from the new machine in the break room. He could be hurt, he could be dead, and you would never know the difference. It makes you sick, it makes you scared.
โSeparation anxiety?โ Sherry asks, taking a seat beside you. Youโre staring at a monitor, feeling like your eyes are melting out of your head.
โShut up,โ you retort, making her laugh. โI just worry about him,โ
โYโknow, I think I had this exact conversation with him a couple weeks ago,โ Sherry says, grinning at you. You scowl at her. โYou two act like if youโre not attached at the hip, youโre basically dead,โ
โThatโs what it feels like,โ you murmur. You sigh. โYou donโt get it,โ
โMaybe not,โ Sherry says, shrugging. โBut I do know what itโs like to feel,โ
You blink at her. โDonโt you have somewhere else to go be annoying?โ
Sherry jabs a finger into your side, making you yelp. โDonโt be mean to me just because youโre grumpy,โ
You huff.
You are not grumpy.
...
Leon feels half dead on his feet as he trudges up the stairs of your apartment building. Heโs been gone almost two weeks, with little to no contact with you. It feels like itโs killing him. He feels like itโs sucking out his will to live. He just wants to see you.
He knocks gently on your door. Itโs late, just past midnight, but he knows youโre still awake, always the night owl. You open it a second later, wearing a shirt three sizes too big and an old pair of sweatpants; he thinks youโve never looked more beautiful. You give him a once over, scanning him for injuries, and when you donโt appear to find any, you crash into him. He lets out an oomph as his arms settle around your waist. You smell like home, and he feels his heart crack open a little.
โWorried about you,โ you whisper into his shoulder. He holds you a little tighter.
โNot over yet,โ he says, and you pull away, squinting at him. He shrugs his jacket off to reveal a nasty cut along his bicep. He smiles sheepishly at you.
You sigh, and itโs like the greatest symphony ever written. โGrab a seat at the table. Iโll patch you up,โ
His pain ebbs as he sits. You return to him moments later with a first aid kit and a scowl. Your soft hands against his skin are what keep him tethered to the earth. Pain threatens to eat at his muscles and sinew, to consume him. But youโre gentle, easing through it like a softbed creek, curving over already smooth stones.
โDid you even try to get out of the way?โ you murmur. You donโt look at him, but heโs watching you. He sees the twitch at the corner of your mouth as you clean the wound, the pull of your brows in concentration. You look so beautiful like this, like a pink sunrise, a reminder that good is out there.
โSort of,โ he mumbles back. You frown at him. โI didnโt really have time,โ
You hum. Once the wound is thoroughly disinfected, you prime the needle for stitches.
โThis will hurt,โ you say, sinking the steel beneath his flesh. He doesnโt react. You make quick work of the area, making sure to tape over it to protect the stitches. When heโs all patched up, you pat his other arm, saying, โTry to make time so that this doesnโt happen again,โ
He nods, watching you. Youโre a breath away, inspecting him for any other injuries he may be sequestering. He reaches up hesitantly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He feels giddy at the way your eyes widen.
โPretty,โ he says, so softly heโs not even sure you hear it. He wonders if heโs concealing the deep, desperate love he has for you, or if heโs bearing it all with his gaze. At this point, heโs not sure he cares.ย
โFlattery will get you nowhere, Kennedy,โ you say, smiling at him. โIโm still mad at you,โ
Soft as a whisper, he says, โI think I can handle that,โ
Without much further thought, Leon closes the gap. You let out a little squeak when his mouth meets yours, but you almost melt into him. Heโs so relieved that he could cry. Your hands find purchase along the curve of his jaw, his own grasping at the loose fabric of your shirt. You sigh sweetly into him, coating his nerves in a saccharine so destabilizing he canโt help but return it. When you fall into his lap, parting your lips and winding your arms around him, heโs afraid heโs died and gone to Heaven. And when your tongue finally meets his, he groans, something deep and guttural and unbecoming.
You pull away, a string of saliva hanging from your kiss bitten lips. You rest your forehead against his. His every perception centers on you; your hands on his chest, your nose bumping his as your chest heaves, your smell, the skin of your neck, open and exposed for him. He wants you, needs you like youโre the only thing that can save him. And when you kiss him again, a fire burns anew in his chest. Your hands are everywhere; his arms, his shoulders, his chest, and they find a home winding into his hair. A gentle tug against his scalp has his hands tightening their grip on your hips, begging you to still.
โLeon,โ you murmur against his mouth, heady and soft all at once.ย
โIโm here,โ he says, and he means it. He has never been more present. And then heโs standing, lifting you with him to place you back on the floor. You stare at him, pupils blown wide, gnawing on your bottom lip.
He pulls you flush against him because he canโt help himself. He is nothing if not selfish, nothing if not gluttonous and greedy, and now that youโve given him this small victory, he wants to see if he can keep winning you. He sees the quiet desperation in the deep color of your eyes, the way youโre watching him with your full, rapt attention.
โYou can touch me,โ you say, voice low and barely audible. He wants to eat you alive.
He wastes little time after that, mouth crashing against yours with renewed energy. His heart swells in his chest when you cling to him all the same. Your fingers dig into the tops of his shoulders. He taps his fingers once against your thigh, signaling you to jump. He catches you, carries you close against him until youโre laid out against the sheets. He doesnโt stray far, following you into the linen, soft and sweet.
He watches you for a moment, taking it all in. Youโre smiling at him, grinning really as he hovers above you. You brush your fingers against his cheek, smoothing away whatever doubt may be lingering. He ducks his head, pressing feather light kisses to the column of your throat, making your breath hitch there. He doesnโt get far, not when you pull his mouth back to yours, grasping at his shirt in an effort to rid him of it. Leon is a compliant man, flashing you a grin as he pulls back to yank it off. He wonders if your cheeks warm like his, if you can hear the hard hammer of his heart in his chest.
...
Leon is all rigid muscle, sinew pulled tight and corded along his arms, the plans of his stomach, his shoulders. You feel almost animalistic, feral. You run flat palms over him, feeling him twitch and tremor under your touch.
โPretty,โ you say, soft as a whisper. He huffs a laugh.
You push him back slightly, only giving yourself enough room to sit forward to pull off your own shirt. You watch him swallow thickly as it gets discarded somewhere across the room. His hands are soft, gentle against the revealed skin as he kisses you again. Feather light touches across your waist, your stomach. Rough and callused palms against your breast, thumb finding your nipple. You arch into him at the contact, tightening your grip on his shoulders.
Youโre aching, cut open and bleeding. His hands leave goosebumps and fire in their wake as he lays you back against the sheets, tracing his lips down your torso, stopping at the waistband of your pants. He looks up at you, chest heaving. You nod, a gentle duck of your chin. Your breath catches in your throat as he slowlyโpainstakingly slowlyโtugs your pants down. He lets his hands wander over your exposed thighs, hopefully ignoring your choice of underwear. Light touches against your hips cause them to fall open. You wonder if you look as vulnerable as you feel. He presses the gentlest kisses to the insides of your thighs, head bouncing between them.
โIโll take care of you,โ he says, a mumble against your skin. It sends shivers down your spine.
When he presses an open mouth kiss to the apex of your thighs, you think you black out for a second. A breathy gasp echoes off the walls. He tugs your underwear out of the way to flatten his tongue against you. The sound you make is unbecoming, head dropping back against the pillows. He wastes little time, sucking and kissing and licking as he finds his rhythm, finds what you like, what makes you the loudest. He eats you out like itโs a game, like heโs determined to get the highest score. Your vision is nearly white, fingers buried in his hair. When you tug on it a bit, he groans, deep and sultry, sending shocks to your brain.ย
Your thighs begin to shake when he pulls your clit between his teeth, a breathy moan escaping you. He locks an arm across your hips to keep you in place. Youโre shamelessly grinding against his face, chasing release. You keen high and whiny as he slides two fingers into you.
โCโmon, sweetheart,โ he says, low and heavy. โMake a mess on me,โ
He curls his fingers against you. The stretch and tempo and timbre of his voice were nearly enough to send you over the edge, but what does you in is seeing him lean back to watch you, stubble brushing the inside of your thigh. You clench around his fingers as you come, writhing and panting like an animal. You watch him lick his fingers clean before youโre clawing for him, pulling his mouth back up to yours. You groan as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your fingers fumble with the clasp on his belt, fighting to free him of it. You feel him chuckle against you as he reaches down to help you. He pulls away a bit to shuck off his trousers.
Your mouth waters when his cock springs free from his boxers, thick and flushed and dripping. Instinctively you reach for it, but he stalls you, gently grasping your wrist. You frown up at him.
โWonโt last very long,โ he says by way of explanation.
โNext time, then,โ you say, chest heaving. He grins at you, climbing over you again.
His kisses are addictive, you decide. Youโre not sure how you ever went without them. Theyโre all consuming, send you spinning. Youโre flat on your back again, pulling him as close as you can, running your hands down the expanse of his chest. He lines himself up with your entrance, gently pushing himself inside. The stretch is devastating. You break the spell of his kiss to gasp, jaw slack. His chest heaves as he buries himself in you, arms flexing on either side of your head. He stalls once heโs fully seated inside you. You smooth his hair away from his face, thumb swiping against his cheekbone. You feel so full; of him, of want, of love.
โYou okay?โ he asks, voice hoarse and heavy. You grin at him.
โNever been better,โ you say.
You lock your legs around his waist, begging him to stay close to you. He drops his head, turning into your palm more as he begins to slowly pull out of you. The drag of him against your walls has you keening. He almost pulls out fully before pushing back in, setting a languid pace that has you boneless. One hand smooths up your side, cupping your breast. You pull him back down to you, mouth meeting his in a devastating kiss. He sighs heavy against your lips, a whimper so delicious it has you rolling your hips just to hear it again. He moves to bury his face in your neck, pressing gentle kisses to the skin there.
โSo pretty,โ he mumbles. You sigh. โLike you were made for me,โ
The praise has you scratching your nails lightly down his back, earning you another pretty noise. His thrusts pick up their pace but never lose their softness. He ruts into you like a man consumed, mumbling against your sweat slick skin.
โDreamed of this,โ he says. His hands wander over you, fingertips gentle against your injury. โDreamed of you. My pretty girl,โ
Thereโs a pressure building in your stomach, a coil wound tight, threatening to burst every time he opens his mouth.
โYours,โ you say. โAlways have been,โ
His thrusts turn shallow, deep. He says, โDoinโ so good, fuckinโ perfect,โ
You clench around him, huffing a breathy moan. โLeon,โ
โIโm here,โ he says. โIโm right here,โ
His thumb finds your clit, and youโre seeing stars. White hot pleasure radiates throughout your body, threatening to consume you. He picks up the pace, chasing his own release. He thrusts one, two, three more times before heโs groaning in your ear and filling you up. He collapses against you, chest heaving and panting. Your fingers wind into his hair, toying with the ends. Every now and then you feel him press kisses to the column of your throat.ย
โLeon,โ you whisper. He hums. โI think your stitches split,โ
He laughs then, a bright, airy sound that splits your chest open with want. He pulls back to look at you, and you note the way his eyes brim with adoration. You feel suddenly shy.
โYou gonna patch me back up?โ he asks, soft against you. You grin.
โYeah,โ you say, brushing the hair out of his eyes. โI will,โ
โi wouldnโt do thatโ โi wouldnโt say thatโ โi wouldnโt wear thatโ โi wouldnโt kiss themโ too bad you pedantic dorks, youโre not the one in control here.
have i talked about how excited i am for re9 yet. i love resident evil so bad i might do a deep dive on all the other games again b4 requiem drops just for the love of it
idk i just think the size difference is really fun and neat. literally envelops ur waist with a hand and uses u like a toy idk idk idk. kisses and licks ur tears away with a tongue erring on the side of too long. he doesnโt quite fully fit but itโs okay, he wonโt break you just yet. idk. ough.
cw: uhhh. no legit spitting but there's saliva involved. light dom/bratty sub dynamics, no actual smut.
word count: 1135 (do NOT perceive me rn -_-)
"Here. Open your mouth."
"...???" you take a pause from your current phone scrolling to look up at your boyfriend with brows furrowed and a questioning look.
Karasu smiles at your answering pout and lifts his hand up to your face so you can see what he's holding. An unwrapped candy. "'Ts just a mint chocolate. Here, try it."
You perk up upon learning he's gifting you with one of your preferred kinds of sweets. Karasu's palm is still laid open flat in front of you with the candy there. Before he gets the chance to be a cheesy romantic and feed it to you, there's a comical homf noise made as you take the chocolate out of his palm with your mouth. "Mmmm fank ou abeee" [Thank you babe].
The smirk on your boyfriend's face wavers for a second as he processes what just happened and the sound effect noise you just created for a piece of candy. "...Your welcome, you little gremlin. Hold on a sec, don't chew it. It's that aerated bubbly-type of chocolate. Ya need to let it melt in your mouth."
Being in a don't tell me what to do mood, you proceed to noticeably chew the chocolate in your mouth faster paired with a charming middle finger waved in your partner's face. The effect is immediate with you grimacing at how the mint flavor becomes powdery and chalky as you chew the aero chocolate. Karasu's look towards you becomes smug, and he tilts his head in a way that annoys you to no end when he's cocky about something. Makes his devilish mouth even more prominent with the smile and looks he's sending your way.
"Didn't taste so great, did it?"
The frown on your face grows into a full blown pout before turning away from him. "...No." it's all but a mumble from you. You're too cute when you're grumpy like this is all Karasu can think.
There's a large hand grabbing you by the chin and deftly bringing your head to face your boyfriend again. With the way you are situated on the couch next to each other, you're forced to look up at him and that smug smile that just won't leave his face.
"D'ya want another piece?" Karasu's other hand is holding up a new small chocolate square. You glare at him a moment longer before nodding. He hums in approval before speaking again with something heavier in his tone. "Good. Now, open."
You huff a little give a heavy eyeroll up at the man's face before parting your lips wide enough to let him feed you. The grip on your jaw tightens slightly before he remarks. "tch. Tongue out. Now." You squint up at him in way that Karasu knows you're calling him a perv without saying out loud. There's more pressure on your cheeks.
He's smiling down at you with a level of arrogance and is speaking in a tone that makes your stomach flutter. "Now, please."
There's still an annoyance with him in your eyes, but you stick your tongue out. Karasu places the chocolate there and lets you close your mouth. The thumb on your cheek starts rubbing light circles in approval as he speaks. "Good. Now let it melt. In your mouth."
He doesn't take his eyes off your mouth and the way the corners of your lips tick up a bit as you listen and let the chocolate dissolve in your mouth.
The chocolate is light and smooth, and the coolness from the mint tingles in the way you like. It does taste better this way, and you know he knows your thinking that exact though. Karasu has an eyebrow quirked up and a smirk that screams "'Ts good, yeah? Told ya so" Letting it melt has the saliva pooling in your mouth in a way that's so full-
"Don't swallow yet." The whining mewl caught in the back of your throat has him chuckling at your antics. He leans down to bring his face closer to yours, "Ya didn't believe me the first time and remember how that worked out for you, love? Trust me. Let it melt completely, and then you can swallow." His breath is warm and your mouth is warm and suddenly everything is hot.
Fuck, you think, he's definitely using That Voice on purpose right now. The tone that's a lot smoother and a bit deeper than Karasu's normal speaking voice that has your insides melting and any actual thinking with your brain disappearing in a wink. Asshole.
You struggle to pinch your face into a look of frustration with your mouth now fully occupied, and he laughs again at how cute you don't even realize you're being. Heโs definitely toying with you and enjoying every second of it.
After what feels like eons of letting the drool collect in your mouth to dissolve the lump of candy [that admittedly, does in fact taste insanely good], you have to swallow twice before you can open your mouth to tell your boyfriend off for being a perv about chocolate. Before you can say a word, you're swept up in a kiss that's almost all tongue.
Karasu's hand that never left your face till now slides back to cup your neck and he groans in approval when your returning kiss meets him halfway. There was still some excess saliva in your mouth that you feel slip down your chin that Karasu doesn't hesitate to lick up before going back to kissing you. Freak. He pulls away and there's an evident sheen on his lips that are back to smiling that arrogant smile.
"Mmm. Sweet. Thanks babe."
"And what," you make a show of wiping your face with the sleeve of the hoodie you're wearing, "was the point of that little display, exactly?"
Karasu perks up with eyes alight in a Thought you'd never ask kind of way. "That was, or better put, this candy," he shows you the individually wrapped chocolates he pulled from who knows where "is part of today's lesson: patience. No more rushing to get what you want all the time."
Your eyeroll and huff at his brat-taming antics in the form of "daily lessons" is all he gets as a response before you walk off to a different room with a door slam. He's insufferable in the way he acts at times like he knows you better than you know yourself, and this is one of those times.
What's worse is that you know he knows you liked the way he instructed you and held you close with a firm grip. He'll never get rough with you no matter how much you act up, but those moments when he gets controlling and in your space makes your brain foggy and breathing unsteady in the best possible way.
Karasu is unsurprised and grins bigger when not 10 minutes after your dramatic storm off, you're cozying up next to him on the couch and grumbling. "...Can I have more please."
a/n: i donโt know thereโs just. Something so frustratingly hot when being forced to admit your partner is right about something trivial like in this scenario. To me at least ahah. This candy also works as a โminute of silenceโ tool if Iโm yapping nonstop and Karasu just wants to shut me up for a second because he knows Iโm a sucker for candy, especially chocolate. -_- this is the aero chocolate btw!
@pastelle-rabbit this is an example what I mean by the โdaily challengesโ thing. Crow man will just give this chocolate to me in public and smiles bc weโre sharing a twisted inside joke.