I have a legitimate question, do we think that when Maul rebuilt his saber he used the crystal from Savage’s saber for the second half and that’s why the saber whispers to him? I know that the whispers are actually the lyrics from the song Duel of Fates which was used in phantom menace but my friends and I were talking about it and it got me curious.
If your okay with it re9 leon with an gn partner who's soooo touch starved but sooooo ridiculously bad at saying anything or asking for anything they just stare at him like their trying to blow him up with their mind till he does something
re9 leon kennedy x gn!reader fluff
1k words
a/n: thank you for requesting! i hope you enjoy ❤︎ . ݁ ˖ NOT FULLY EDITED
⊹˚. ♡
it’s early evening and the two of you have just finished up dinner, the windows open just enough to let in cool air. leon’s at the kitchen counter leaning against it, sleeves pushed up, finishing the last of his fourth coffee while scrolling through an article on his phone.
you’re sat at the table across from him, staring. again.
you’re trying to be subtle this time, resting your chin on your palm and pretending to be thinking very deeply, but your eyes keep drifting to him. you find yourself going back to his forearm every other second, watching how it flexes when he adjusts his grip on his mug. the way he shifts his weight when his leg gets tred. the way he looks so solid and warm and he's right there.
you want to be touching him. badly. but instead of doing anything normal like walking over and putting your hands on him, you just keep staring, secretly thinking 'if you can hear my thoughts, put down the phone and come over here.'
and of course, he doesn’t look up. this almost makes it worse, because despite not receiving your telepathic message, you know he knows.
after a moment, he takes a slow sip of his coffee and says, without lifting his gaze from his phone,
“…you need somethin’, sweetheart.” more of a statement than a genuine question really. you freeze, acting clueless.
“huh?”
he hums like he absolutely does not believe you, and finally glances up. there it is—that tiny, knowing half-smirk he does when he's entertained. he's sooo smug.
“c’mere,” he says casually, fingers gesturing you to get up like he’s asking you to pass the salt.
your heart jumps a little and you hesitate for half a second; you don’t want to look desperate. that’s when he raises a brow.
“come on.” he chuckles, rushing you out of your overthinking.
you stand and walk over, trying to move at a normal pace and not like you’ve been internally spiraling for the last ten minutes.
the second you’re within reach, his arm reaches out and his index finger hooks gently around your wrist, a small tug until you end up standing between his knees where he’s leaning against the counter. he sets his mug and phone face-down to the side and rests both hands on your hips like this was the obvious solution all along.
“hey,” he says, satisfied.
your shoulders drop instantly.
“hi.” you reply timidly. you didn’t even realize how tense you were until now, and leon notices that too. his thumbs start moving in slow, lazy circles against your hips.
“you were doin’ that thing again,” he adds.
“…what thing.”
“your little stare.”
you look away immediately and leon laughs softly under his breath.
“i wasn’t staring.”
“i'd say you were maybe one blink away from combusting.”
you make a small offended sound, but you don’t move away. if anything, you lean closer, and he lets you. of course he does.
his hands slide from your hips around to your lower back, pulling you in until your chest brushes his. he doesn’t move too fast, just rests his chin lightly on the top of your head. you sink into him, your arms instantly finding their way around his waist.
“there y'go. all y'had to do was ask.” he murmurs.
your face heats. “i can’t just ask for a hug.”
“why not.”
“that’s—” you flounder. “that’s too much.”
he pulls back just enough to look at you properly, a calm but inquisitive expression painting his face, wrinkles forming between his brows.
“too much for who?”
you don’t answer, and he shakes his head slightly, thumb brushing along your waist.
“fine, don't ask.”
you stay silent, growing confused on where he's going with this.
“if you wanna be held,” he says, he leans down and presses a slow kiss to your forehead, “just come here.”
your hands settle on his shirt, gripping it tightly, and his smirk softens into something quieter.
“okay?” he murmurs.
you mumble something unintelligible, but you nod at the same time.
he pulls you fully into him this time, one arm wrapping securely around your back while the other comes up to cradle the back of your head, and while you melt, he stands there like this is the most natural thing in the world. because to him, it is,
after a minute, he tilts his head slightly so his mouth is near your ear.
“and by the way,” he says, tone lazy, almost playful, “i can't read your mind.”
“i know—”
“right.”
his fingers squeeze gently at your waist.
“just say my name. i'd drop everything for you, you know that.”
“but... it's hard.”
“why?”
“i don't know... i don't wanna ask you for too much.”
your problem really is that simple. you love leon's touch, especially when he's gentle (which he always is with you). but for some reason, there's a little voice in your head whenever you feel like you need a hug or a kiss or something, and it tells you that leon would either “be too busy” or “wouldn't want to hug you right now”.
but leon knows you. he knows the look you get. he knows the tiny degrees of change in your posture when you’re craving touch but don’t want to admit it. and he doesn’t think it’s too much.
if anything, he finds it endearing. leon is hungrier touch than you'd assume, but he's more confident about it. more forward. he knows what he wants and how to get it. as a result, you both want the same thing.
“you’re allowed to ask me for anything you want,” he adds casually, like it’s the most obvious fact in the world. “s'kinda my job.”
you look up at him at that.
“your job?”
“yeah.”
he shrugs faintly.
“if i'm gonna retire, gotta stay useful somehow.”
you can’t help the small laugh that escapes you, and he smiles a little wider at that, satisfied with himself. he pulls you even closer, arms tightening just slightly.
pressing another soft kiss to your temple, he murmurs, “and i like when you need me.”
this time there’s no edge, no cockiness, just, like, of course he’s going to hold you. course he’s not going anywhere.
so next time, you probably still won’t say anything. you’ll just stare at him again, and he’ll sigh, shake his head, and open his arms before you even have to ask.
"I'm home," Leon grumbles, the words slurred with exhaustion as he tosses his gun belt onto the chair with a heavy clatter. He practically collapses onto the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He looks absolutely exhausted, his hair is a mess, dark circles under his eyes, sweat still drying on his skin from whatever hell he just crawled out of. When he looks up at you standing between his spread knees, his gaze becomes laser-focused, a hungry fire burning in his eyes.
"I'm too tired to throw you around tonight, baby," he admits, his voice rough from shouting all day. "But I need to taste you."
He grips your hips, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh, and guides you forward until your thighs press against his cheeks. The stubble on his jaw scrapes against your skin. "Sit," he commands, his voice low. As you lower yourself eagerly, he tilts his head back his tongue already out to catch you.
He devours you, holding your ass firmly with both hands, keeping you sitting astride his face as he licks and sucks at your clit with single-minded focus. He groans into you, the vibration sending sparks through your entire body, when your knees start to shake. "That's a good girl," he mumbles against your wetness, his voice muffled. "Use m'face. All I'm good for tonight."
"Leon..." you whimper, your hips starting to twitch uncontrollably. Everything narrows to the feeling of his mouth against your folds, the scrape of his stubble on your thighs, and the firm pressure of his hands. He sucks your clit fully into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it, stealing the air from your lungs. A keening sound is dragged from your throat as the pleasure crests. Your back arches, and your hips buck against his face, grinding down as the orgasm tears through you. You flood his mouth and he swallows every drop, groaning his satisfaction into your trembling skin.
You sit there, straddling his face, just breathing. Your thighs tremble, muscles quivering as you hold yourself up, trying to collect just a sliver of your sanity again.
He kisses your inner thighs, absent-minded pecks against your quivering skin. His hands, which had been gripping you begin to stroke your ass in a soothing rhythm. Each caress is slower than the last the energy from moment ago bleeding out of him. The strokes grow languid, almost lazy, until finally, his hands slide limply from your ass to rest on the mattress beside his head.
You're still panting, your body buzzing with aftershocks, but a cold spike of uncertainty pierces the haze as his head slumps sideways, eyes closed, lolling against the mattress. Did you...? Oh god, did you suffocate him? Then you hear something. A soft rumbling snore escapes his parted lips, his chest rises and falls in the slow rhythm of deep sleep.
You cover your mouth to stifle an incredulous laugh. He really had meant it, that was all he had left. A wave of overwhelming affection washes over you as you gently reach out and tenderly brush the damp, messy strands of hair from his forehead, his face finally peaceful in deep sleep.
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷ 𝖆 𝖓 𝖔 𝖙𝖊꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
Hiiiii this blurb isn't really new, it was something I wrote for my v-day event, but I really enjoyed it and I wanted to bring it back before it got lost! 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯
your comfort character is so damn proud of you and the person you’ve become.
your comfort character would choose you first. no matter the circumstances.
your comfort character would drop everything to help you when you’re feeling sad, unloved or lonely.
your comfort character would walk to the ends of the earth if it meant seeing you happy.
your comfort character thinks you are the most stunning person in the universe. that new outfit you don’t think you look good in? they’d fight you just to prove just the opposite, to prove how beautiful/handsome/attractive you are - inside and out.
your comfort character can’t help but look at you like you put the stars in the sky.
your comfort character is always there if you need to get away. bad home life? they’ve got you. friend troubles? they’re on their way as we speak. just having a rough day? not to worry, they’re here to calm you down.
your comfort character always listens to what you have to say. they’d yell for everyone to shut up so you could have your turn to talk, no matter the topic.
your comfort character never lets you walk behind everyone on the sidewalk. they’re right beside you, always.
your comfort character loves you more than anything in this world. they think you’re the strongest person they’ve ever met, and hope that you always keep fighting.
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