pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader --- fem pronouns are not used, but written with fem!reader in mind. reader is afab
tags: high school au, college au, re2r leon -> re4r leon pipeline, childhood friends to strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, smut, a fuck ton of yearning MDNI 18+, male masturbation, p in v, unprotected sex (don't be silly, guys), loss of virginity, hand job, cunnilingus sort of, creampie, praise kink, breeding kink if you squint (sorry...) porn with plot, porn with feelings (like. too many feelings it's sort of gross)
summary: You try to desperately reignite an old friendship with Leon before high school wraps up. What starts out as a simple effort to mend things blossoms into something you couldn't have anticipated. But as summer ends, Leon’s moving away for College, leaving you in Raccoon City. Or so you thought.
word count: 10k ish
a/n: gosh, hi, it's been a while!! i've been fighting writer's block for nearly a year, and it definitely was NOT part of my plan to post leon smut before the knight fic, but cough ovulation week cough and uh.. this happened? big thanks to cressie for feeding the brainworms, and vivi for cheering me on, and of course eva for encouraging me to write again <33
also for the sake of my own sanity we're gonna pretend kairo was released in the 1990s because i just REALLY wanted them to watch kairo. and if you can catch all the song/movie references i make throughout this you'll get a gold star, anyway, enjoy! <3
playlist ⭑ masterlist ⭑AO3
If someone offered Leon a thousand dollars to pinpoint exactly where in the timeline of your friendship you’d grown apart, he wouldn’t be able to. Maybe it was just fate taking her course, friends growing apart. He’s tried to make peace with it, chalking it up to the inevitability of growing apart, another lesson in the long list of things he’s had to learn to accept.
But it doesn’t stop him from missing you. More than he’s willing to admit, even to himself.
Between college applications and finals, Leon’s life is already at full capacity, he’s fast-tracking, tunnel vision set on finishing senior year and getting into Stanford so he can get the hell out of Raccoon City. And he’s got it, he’s got this.
But then there you are, barrelling back into his life with all the force of something impossible to ignore, as if you’d never really left his orbit, as if the universe decided it wasn’t quite done with the two of you yet. Your smile hasn’t changed, still sweet and sticky like molasses. It’s disarming when you ask if he can tutor you, voice light and breezy, as if no time has passed between you at all— just a few sessions here and there! You tell him, just to save you from failing another semester of chemistry.
He agrees nearly blindly, the words out of his mouth before he has time to think them through.
It has been so long since you’d even talked to him properly, anything other than a ‘hi’ or a ‘bye’ muttered in the school hallways before you’re whisked away by your friends. He’s honestly elated you’d approached him at all—he tried not to show it, though.
And he did great the first few sessions. Sure, it was more than awkward at first—but Leon was partly thankful for it. It left little room for him to entertain the idea of staying friends with you again for long. You’d create a simple routine together wherein you’d come over to his place, he’d teach you everything from organic to physical chemistry, then you’d bid him goodnight and leave. Simple. Predictable. Routine.
But then you started to break that routine, a variable that he hadn’t accounted for. You’d kick his foot under the dining table while you worked on homework together, laugh at his jokes even when they’re painfully bad because you think it’s cute. Then when you have to migrate upstairs after his parents come home from work, you’d settle onto his bed, glancing around his room and teasing him about how little he’d changed—still the same movie posters, still the same boy you once knew.
You tell him about your day, he tells you about his, then you’ll go as far as to stay a little longer some nights, both of you acutely aware of the time but not doing a thing about it.
He finds with time, he’s learnt to enjoy your company again. It isn’t so tense, no longer like walking on the glass shards of your previously shattered relationship. It’s easier now, as if none of the vast ocean separating you was ever there to begin with. He tries not to dwell on the fact that this newfound relationship is built entirely on the twenty dollar bill you hand him each night.
Then one night Leon’s mother invites you to stay for dinner, he expects you to politely decline, hand him the twenty dollar bill for the tuition, and leave.
But much to Leon’s surprise, you don’t.
It’s catalytic, like a domino effect that he’s helpless against stopping. It gets so much worse when you offer to stay behind to help clean up. All but glowing as you strike up casual conversation with his mother, as if you’d never stopped visiting over the past six years. You’re a sweet talker, always have been, you compliment his mother on her cooking, ask her for the recipe, she tells you you’ll just have to come over and help her make it one night. You laugh, meeting Leon’s gaze as you tell her you just might have to.
God, Leon’s so fucked.
Absolutely fucked when he catches himself thinking about you in the middle of class, eyes trained like a hawk on the door to the classroom, waiting to see if you’ll show or not. You don’t. He’s not really surprised. He finds he doesn’t exactly mind though. Frankly, it’s none of his business whether you show or not, and a part of him likes the extra attention he gets out of it when you ask him all the questions you’d know if you did show up to classes while he’s tutoring you.
You’ll have your pen between your teeth like you always do, run a hand through your hair as you watch him work, bat those stupidly pretty eyelashes at him when you don’t understand what he’s trying to say.
“None of this is making sense,” You huff, shoving your head into your hands, elbows braced on his dining room table.
You catch the glimpse of sympathy that flashes across Leon’s face when you peek at him through your fingers, and eternally cringe at how you must look.
“Just one more chapter, then we’ll be done.” He promises, tapping the eraser end of his pencil on your notebook.
He’s got that boyish smile on his lips when you meet his gaze, his thin-framed glasses perched atop his face make him look so much cuter than you remember him being when you were kids.
Your heart constricts in the familiar way it always does nowadays. A sickening reminder that you have a secret; closely guarded in your heart, tucked away by lock and key. You’re in love with your best friend.
Well, your once best friend. The term "best friends" feels outdated, like it belongs to a version of you that no longer exists. It’s partly your fault— well, mostly your fault. The rift between you didn’t just appear; you carved it out with every sorry excuse you’d made at fourteen when you’d chosen your flashy new friends over time spent with Leon.
But what were you to do? Middle school turned to High School and you’d gone from the sad lonely girl at the back of the class to someone worth looking at.
And Leon? Well, you convinced yourself he was only dragging you down, or that’s what you told yourself to help to ease the guilt every time you brushed him off.
Was it shitty of you to pay your way back into his life? Yeah, but you’re also sort of a coward when it comes to confrontation. There were a million better ways to try to fix what you broke, but here you are, handing Leon twenty bucks a week for a chance to be close to him again.
Either way life moves on, and you find yourself falling for him. Stupidly, helplessly, completely.
Leon finds he’s drowning just as you are.
He’s so far past the point of just fucked. He’s utterly infatuated at this point. You’re stunning, every bit as beautiful as the word allows, beautiful as he watches you across the gym at a morning assembly. You’re busy talking to one of those jocks on the football team, Calvin? Chris? He can’t remember, he doesn’t care. Or that's what he tells himself.
He cares. He cares entirely too much, especially when you curl a lock of your hair around your finger, smiling at whatever bullshit Chris must be spouting with that mouth of his. Leon sinks into his seat further, diverts his attention to the front of the auditorium, but his gaze keeps drifting back to you. He’s desperate to ignore what definitely seems like you flirting with someone who definitely isn’t himself.
He’s not jealous though, Leon isn’t jealous. ‘Course not.
That’s what he repeats to himself later that night, alone in his bed when his hand curls around the length of his hard dick, tip weeping as he gives a pitiful tug, teeth sunk into his bottom lip.
He tries incredibly desperately to stifle the whine that bubbles up his throat, hand moving on its own accord as his eyes flutter shut. He doesn’t even realise he’s holding his breath until he starts getting light headed, too caught up chasing his own high. He comes embarrassingly fast, one, two, three, four more pumps and he’s done for, your name the last thing on his lips.
Leon swallows thickly before the crushing reality that he’d imagined you as he came fills him with a burst of shame. He tries to push the thought aside as quickly as it comes, groaning as he moves to sit on the edge of his bed.
Yeah. He’s fucked.
A few weeks later, Leon finds himself sitting on the bleachers after class. He wouldn’t be caught dead out here less than a few weeks ago, but you had given him such a sweet smile when you’d told him you had cheer practice, asked him if he’d be okay waiting just a little before going back to his place for tuition.
It’s not so bad, he thinks, as he flicks through the songs on his cheap mp3 player. But even with that distraction, you’re far more captivating. You're dazzling, to say the least—dress glimmering under the afternoon sun as you go through your routine. Leon watchs and tries not to stare.
It’s when you walk up to him though, all but shimmering, glowing under golden hour, that it hits him like a freight train all at once. He’s fallen horrifically far from his pedestal, what he feels for you now is so much more than what he did for you as kids. Not just as a friend, and yet much more than a schoolboy crush.
The next few events unfold very quickly—you sit down next to him on the bleachers, the skin of your thigh pressing to his where your dress rides up. He freezes, his own skin flushing a shade of pink that he hopes goes unnoticed. You press your ear against his headset, stick your tongue out between your lips as if you’re in dire concentration, trying to hear what’s playing.
“What’re you listening to?” You ask when you pull away, pushing the headset off his head before you slide them over your own ears.
You light up at what you hear, “The Smiths? Seriously, Leon, you have not changed.”
He rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair to fix it from where your hands had mused it. “They’re good,” His voice is soft despite the protest in his tone. It’s then, you realise, that he’s blushing.
Cute, cute, cute, you think. There is a particular warmth that blossoms in your chest seeing him like this, one that only Leon can really elicit.
You smile brighter, “Yeah, I know. I love The Smiths.”
Leon looks starstruck. Of course you do.
It doesn’t stop there, much to Leon’s own disappointment. He’d hoped after the school year was over you’d go back to not talking to him, and he could move past this and never think about it again (yeah, as if).
But you don’t. At this point he should just stop wishing for anything at all. Clearly the universe is working against him in the fickle way it always has.
You call him every few nights, ask how he is, what he’s doing, if he’s busy. Things friends would ask each other. Do you count as friends? Leon would like to think so. But then again, he probably shouldn’t be picturing a friend’s face when he’s tugging at his own dick.
You should come over sometime. You say over the phone one night, voice sweet even over the shitty receptor of his home landline. His back straightens a little at your words, the lilt in your voice, as he leans against the counter in his kitchen.
He imagines you lying on your bed, feet kicked up as you hold your flashy new flip-phone between your shoulder and your ear. He wonders what you’re wearing.
Hello? Your voice crackles, and he’s immediately pulled from his thoughts. C’mon, it’s not that bad of an idea. You laugh on the other end.
He hesitates. Yes, yes, yes, his mind screams at him. Well, I mean… what for?
Lame fucking answer.
Do I need a reason to invite my friend over?
He goes a little rigid at that, mulling over his next words as he feels heat climb up his neck. So we’re friends again now?
The line goes quiet for so long he’s sure you’ve abandoned your phone and left the line open. He nearly hangs up, letting out a sigh as he goes to rehook the landline back on the wall before your voice filters through at the last minute.
Of course we are, silly! Well, I mean— I know the secret Kennedy pasta recipe now.
He smiles then. That you do.
When Leon gets to your place, the cold Summer night air is sharp against his skin. He’s barely touched the doorbell when the front door swings open, the wide smile on your face is contagious—a spontaneous reaction sets off in his heart.
“Hi,” You grin.
“Hey,” He greets, albeit a little awkwardly.
You’re endeared, to say the least.
You lead him through the familiar hallways of your home, past family photos he’s seen countless times before, into the family media room, tucked away at the back of the house. It hasn’t changed much from the last time he was here—God, what was that? Six, eight years ago?—he recalls fond memories of escaping your parent’s annual Christmas parties to watch Christmas Mountain while snuggled up on the couch together instead.
“What about that one?” You hum, legs pulled up onto the large plush sofa in your media room, tucking your knees under your chin as you wave a hand at one of the titles in the box of your father’s old DVDs.
“You wanna watch Kairo?” Leon sounds amused, pulling the title out of the box before handing it to you.
You shrug, flipping the case over in your hand, honestly having no idea what the movie is about or what you’re getting yourself into. You just want him to pick a damn movie and get on with it. He’s always been like this, indecisive and hesitant about most things—you’ve always been the opposite, headstrong and impulsive. Yet, the two of you have always been tied together with a gold thread of string, your mother likes to say so, anyway.
You and Leon. Leon and You. An apple and an orange, not the same yet still belonging side by side.
It’s Leon’s voice that pulls you back to the present, taking the case from your hands before he cracks it open and insert the disc it into the silver DVD player. The screen flickers to life, and you quit chasing the DVD logo with your gaze as it bounces across the screen to fish for the TV remote as Leon joins you on the couch.
He sits at the opposite end, and you’re acutely aware of the distance he’s put between the both of you. You’re not surprised at how your heart sinks at the implications of his actions.
Leon finds the remote before you do, silence settling over the room like thick fog as he flicks through the DVD menu. You will yourself not to get too freaked out by the eerie music or the haunting silhouette of the girl pressed against the screen.
“I didn’t think you liked horror movies,” Leon muses, not really meeting your gaze as he flicks through to press play. “Most people I know say it’s not all that great but—” And he rambles. God, he rambles and you want to kiss his stupid mouth shut.
The first thirty minutes of the movie are slow but not short of horrifying. You’re not sure if you’re thankful or frustrated when all Leon does is talk about SFX or behind the scene cuts, or how they did this and how they did that —endearingly sweet in a way that makes your heart flutter. You’re semi-grateful for the distraction.
He’s a sweetheart in every sense of the word, asking if you’re okay after you startle from a jumpscare. Partially annoyed until you realise he’s not even teasing you. You find it twice as sweet, though, when you notice him all but staring at you in your periphery.
Charming blue eyes that set you a little more on edge.
“The movie’s on the screen, not my face,” You tease, finally meeting his gaze when you glance back at him, kicking him across the couch playfully.
He swallows, praying for the upteenth time that you don’t notice the burning of his skin he feels at getting caught, before he glances back at you.
“I mean, I think I’d much rather look at you than the movie,” He shoots back, the honesty in his voice surprising even himself.
The air leaves his lungs the moment you turn to look at him, nearly giving yourself whiplash. Leon’s sure he should find this moment awkward, scary, any number of things, but he’s too distracted. You’re so tempting, sweet doll eyes, lashes that kiss your cheeks as you smile at him, and again, he finds himself starstruck.
Your gaze holds his for a moment longer than it should, a gentle tilt of your head and he’s done for. The teasing smile lingering on your lips slips into something softer, the room feels smaller, the space between you even more so.
“You alright?” You hum, you’re not even sure what you’re saying, you can’t hear your own voice over the blood thrumming in your ears.
Leon doesn’t really hear you either, he tries to, he does, but then your gaze drops to his lips and— God, is this happening? He’d ask you to pinch him if his voice wasn’t stuck in his damn throat.
You search his face, trying to find any hint of jest, but all you see is the way his eyes linger on you, tracing the curves of your lips, the line of your jaw. For the first time in a long time you find yourself nervous to kiss a boy. There’s a current between you, energy fizzling in a way that pricks your skin—fireworks, and he hasn’t even touched you yet.
Before you can give yourself the chance to second guess it, you close the distance, your lips brushing against his. His breath hitches, and you smile against his lips, a gentle hand cupping his jaw, curling into his soft hair. The rest of the room drowns out, all he can hear is his heart beating in his ears and all he can feel is the flush of his own skin and you. Impossibly close in a way that’s already got him hook, line and sinker.
The kiss immediately and successfully turns Leon’s brain to mush, letting out a shaky breath as you incline your head, a soft groan falling past your lips and tumbling into his. Your shoulders drop, another arm looping around his neck. It’s a lot at once, your body against his, the thrumming of his heart, the way he tries desperately not to fuck up the kiss, or give away that he hasn’t exactly had much experience in this department at all.
Leon only realises he’s still rigid when you pull away, your breath a hot puff of air against his face. He thinks you must’ve laughed, cheeks heating up, but then his eyes flutter open and you’ve got a look on your face that he can’t place. Your hand smooths down the golden locks of his hair.
“Are you nervous?” Your voice is so impossibly soft.
Leon blushes deeper. “Is it obvious?”
“A little,” You smile.
“I don’t– I haven’t–” He stutters, the words coming out a jumbled mess that makes your heart ache a little.
“Hey, no, it’s okay.” You rush to reassure when you realise what must be going through his mind. “Just… follow my lead, yeah?”
He nods, tight lipped then.
Your laugh is sticky sweet, alluring in a way that makes him feel all too light-headed. You lean in again, “Relax.”
He lets out a breath, and you take the opportunity of his parted lips to deepen the kiss properly, the muscle of your tongue flattening out against his bottom lip. Leon lets out a strangled moan—fireworks burst across your skin for the second time.
“You can hold me,” You mumble against his mouth, hands tightening in his hair. “If it’ll make you less nervous.”
Leon swallows thickly, nodding as his nose brushes against yours, lips already red and aching. One of his hands tentatively moves back into your hair, he tilts his head, trying to deepen the kiss the same way you had. His movements are albeit clumsy, uncertain; betraying his inexperience, but there’s a raw sincerity in his attempt that leaves you charmed. Slowly, he slides down against the sofa, pulling you with him, his body sinks into the cushions until he’s lying down, your body resting atop his.
You want more, more, more . Want to press your tongue to the seam of his lips, part them, taste him properly—you almost do, growing just as eager as he is as you push yourself higher atop him, bracketing his waist with your thighs as you press your lips to his harder.
Your nose knocks his glasses askew when moving your head, and you feel him tense ever-so underneath you, as if realising it at the same time, and you can sense his confidence wavering.
You pull back just an inch then, he all but groans in protest. His nose bumps against yours, lips parted and eager for more. “Slow down,” You giggle. “M’not going anywhere.”
“Sorry,” He mumbles, his voice laced with embarrassment. The warmth from his blush radiates under your palm.
Without missing another beat, you reach up to carefully slide his glasses off his face. Leon blinks up at you. He looks like he’s short-circuited, giving way to a vulnerability that makes your heart ache.
“There,” you whisper, folding the frames before setting the glasses atop the coffee table. “How’s that?”
You’re cruel, though, don’t give him a moment to gather his thoughts, let alone respond. It’s a bit of cat and mouse to you; tease, tease, tease. Gve in just a little, pull away a little more.
You’re pressing your lips back to his again before another moment can pass. But Leon doesn’t protest; how could he when you’re so close, your bodies pressed together like this?
Leon’s confidence grows with each swipe of your tongue against his. His hands grow bolder, they move over your shoulder blades, down your spine, pressing against the curve of your back. A soft groan tumbles from your lips, your hips pushing down against his, he lets out a shaky moan in kind.
Cute, cute, cute. You’d drown in the soft sounds that tumble from his lips given the chance.
Your hands begin to wander, trailing down his chest, over his beating hard. You rub circles against his chest, as if to satiate the burning desire that’s stuck between his ribs.
Your lips, on the other hand, begin their descent.
You start with the corner of his mouth, then you follow the line of his jaw, down the column of his neck, the divot of his throat (that rewards you with a mewl). You decorate his collar in a blossoming painting of delicate bruises, tug down the collar of his shirt enough to reveal as much skin as possible for your lips to work over.
A soft smile curls on your lips even as you kiss him, and you realise with a flicker of amusement that he’s shaking beneath you—It’s an endearing quiver, like a newborn fawn finding its first footing. His hands tighten in the fabric of your shirt, holding on as if trying to anchor himself.
“You okay?” You hum as you pull away, Leon assumes you’re gracing him with a breather before he registers your hands working his shirt up his body.
It’d be rude to let you do all the work, so he shifts enough to tug it over his own head, discarding it on the floor of your theatre room bathed in blue—the movie long forgotten.
Leon’s large hands settle back against the swell of your hips, his thumb runs over the bone of your hip through the fabric of your shorts. He gives you a gentle nod. “M’alright,” He mumbles, but his voice has grown thick, stuck in the cavern of his throat.
“Do you… want to keep going?” You ask softly, your voice is tentative, as if dipping your toes into the deep end, testing the waters.
His mind screams yes, he settles for a “ Please ,” that comes out shakier than he’d like instead.
Your hands make quick work, moving down to undo the button of his jeans, fumbling clumsily in the wake of your excitement that you try incredibly hard to school. For the most part you do, refusing to cave too fast.
You’re acutely aware this is Leon’s first time—he doesn’t have to tell you, you can tell by his shaky voice, and shaky hands, by the way he looks at you as if you’ve just about hung the stars and the planets. To be fair, he’s always looked at you like that. Something akin to a sweet puppy.
Jesus Christ, you’re losing it.
When you finally pop the button, tug the zipper down achingly slow, Leon mewls, his hand on your hip curling into your flesh bruisingly. Fuck.
Your gaze meets his once again. “I’m gonna– I’m gonna go slow, okay? You’ve gotta tell me to stop if you don’t like anything, alright?” As desperate as you are to get your hands on him, you’d never forgive yourself if you ruined his first time.
Leon nods like he’s on autopilot, dutifully, as if the idea of you ruining anything for him is a stupid one. “Yeah, I will– Just, please, ” His voice grows impossibly quiet, “Don’t think I can wait–”
God. You go a little lightheaded.
Your hands make quick work of his jeans then, pushing them down along with his boxers. You’re blessed with a heavenly sight. His cock, pretty and flushed and all but drooling. It’s nearly erotic, has your head swimming.
“Jesus, Leon.” You huff, eyes wide as you look back up to meet his gaze.
Leon swallows thickly, throat bobbing as his eyes bore into yours, blown wide, rings of blue barely visible. God what a sight. He doesn’t respond, can’t. His throat is thick with something he cannot place. You’re a vision to him like this—hair spilling over your shoulders, framing your head like a halo, thick eyelashes that flutter sweetly down at him. His cheeks heat, neck growing impossibly hot.
Your hands dance over his stomach, his abdomen, tracing the contours of his skin as you watch his face to gauge each reaction, each shiver, every tremble of his lips.
You’re cruel, you’re so impossibly cruel and, oh— Nevermind. You’re an angel.
You giggle at his blissed out expression as your hand curls around the base of his dick. “That what you needed?”
Leon’s eyes flutter shut, head tips back as your hand inches up. He resists the urge to buck right into the tunnel of your palm. “Mmhmm…”
“Can’t speak now either?” You coo sweetly.
Something soft bubbles up past his throat, a mewl, a whine, you don’t know what to call it, but God does it make your cunt flutter in time with your heart. “C’mon, Leon, let me hear you.”
And God does he.
You pull whimper after whimper from his pretty lips, tumbling out like prayer each time. You are the chappel he worships at, the altar where he falls to his feet. He thinks if he died like this he could be happy, would go willingly, accept his fate—
“D’you want… more?” The words echo around in his skull.
He couldn’t have nodded faster.
You’re both giddy and giggling as you pull away, his hands eager as they pull your shorts and underwear off at once. If you could memorise the way he looked at you right now, you would. Leon’s eyes rove over your thighs, the space between them that glistens, in a way that makes you shy despite the hesitance in his own.
“You’re pretty,” He says thickly, and there’s not a tease behind his words, not a jest. He says them with such sincerity you stutter to a halt.
You blink, caught in his gaze. Leon watches you carefully, his own eyes wide, as if he’s not sure whether he’s overstepped some invisible boundary. The heat in your cheeks burns a little brighter, and you find yourself instinctively breaking eye contact, glancing away to gather yourself.
His words feel as if they’ve lodged themself in between the left and right ventricles of your heart. Suddenly, you feel the need to close the distance again, your hand slipping to cup his face, brushing a thumb over the flush of his cheek.
He hums against your lips, hands climbing up your back, under your shirt, slipping under the strap of your bra.
Your hips are gentle, moving over his instinctively, like something written into your DNA. The subtle brush over the underside of his length has him gasping—you preen internally at the reaction.
But you’re impatient, as impatient as he is, eager for more, eager to take, eager to please. You sink down over him slowly, revel in the silky stretch you’re graced with, moaning around his tongue as your heart feels like it’ll burst out of your chest.
The feeling is near incandescent to Leon, his mind already too far gone.
“Eyes open, baby,” Your voice comes, shattering the haze of his mind.
Baby, baby, baby.
He’s hardwired to comply.
You’re something holy above him, head crested by the glow of the moon spilling through the windows, wings of starlight, angel-song falling from your lips as your hips move over his. He wants to swallow each sound. You have the grace to let him.
Your body presses to his as you lean down, chasing his lips in a kiss that surely rewires his brain chemistry. Each moan you let out is like honey in his mouth, sweet and addicting, his tongue pushes past your lips, seeking out as much as you’ll give him.
You’re ecstasy. Entirely too addicting; Leon can’t get enough. Each time you sink down on him again, he’s sure it steals more breath from his lungs. And with earth-shattering realisation, he knows he’s not going to last. “M’close.”
He’s puppy-dog cute like this, pout on his lips, a cinch between his eyebrows that you smooth with your thumb. “I can tell.”
His hand moves to where yours are on his chest, taking one in his own, intertwining your fingers. It’s so fucking over for you.
“I can’t—” His hips buck up into yours, but his movements are reserved, you clock his desperation to hold out immediately.
“God, Leon, please do. I want you to.”
It doesn’t take much longer than that. He comes within three, four, five ruts of your hips against his, a warning on his lips before you pull off him and his release coats the muscles of his abdomen. You’re left aching, but you can’t find it in yourself to mind, not when you have him underneath you like this.
“Shit, God,” He groans. “That was… fast.”
You sense the apology on his tongue and shake your head before he can get there.
“No, don’t. It was… it was good.”
Leon can’t believe his ears. It was good? He did good?
“Yeah?” You hear the anticipation in his voice, higher at the end, a question.
Smiling, you nod. “Uhuh. Plus, we can… Work on it.”
The implication of doing this again sometime is enough to have him mirroring your smile.
But soon summer’s over and college is starting. You decide to take a year off, figure yourself out.
But Leon’s always had big dreams. Before you know it he’s packed his life into boxes, ready to move across the country to California. You can’t lie to yourself forever, pretend that what you feel for him is superficial, that you won’t miss him with a longing that will linger for months.
Your heart aches the night before he leaves. His head on your stomach, looking up at you with those puppy dog sweet eyes, half lidded and hair mused from where you’d grabbed and tugged while he’d lapped at your sweet cunt all night.
“I’m gonna miss you,” The words slip out softly, surprising even yourself. Lately, you’ve found vulnerability escaping you more often around him. A tenderness you’re learning to grow used to again.
Leon’s gaze lifts to yours, sweet baby blues that you try to memorise even in the low light of your bedroom. “I’ll visit.”
“I know.”
There’s a sickening silence that follows. You ache to tell him everything, pour your heart out for him to pick up, but you don’t.
Leon promises to call you as soon as he gets to his new dorm, and he does. For the first few months, everything goes smoothly. You and Leon fall back into that regular routine—you call him every now and then, he updates you on his day, you tell him about yours. But as fate has it, the chasm between the two of you begins to split once more, you feel him drift away, caught up in his flashy new life.
Turns out distance does make the heart grow fonder.
There are things Leon doesn’t tell you either. Like how he’s been binge-watching those awful horror movies you always mention nowadays (you’ve developed a weird fondness for the gore). Or that he’s started tutoring again. Or that he wishes you were here. God, he really wants to tell you that last one.
He thinks of you all the time, even when he probably shouldn’t—between classes, during his morning coffee before the 8 a.m. lab, while driving from his part-time job to campus. He thinks of you in the inbetweens, when his mind seems to wander. The thoughts come unbidden, when there’s a million other things he should have at the forefront of his mind, you’re there.
And then there’s the way he pictures you every time.
Leon’s not exactly proud of the number of hook-ups he’s had since college. One party turned into two, then three, then four. Simple drinking games blurred into long nights with countless girls underneath him who he now doesn't even remember the faces of.
Convinced if he shut his eyes, if he really focused, he could imagine it was you whimpering under him instead, your hands on his body, your lips melding around his name oh so perfectly.
It was never the same though. Never would be.
None of these girls sounded like you, none of them fucked like you, none of them felt like you did. Like they were made for him, like he could get lost in their cunts forever. It was pathetic, really, the way he’d so willingly chase that unmatchable high forever. Nothing would compare. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
So by the time semester break rolls around, he’s already packed his bags, and the four hour route from California back to Raccoon City has been set before he’s even finished his finals.
Raccoon hasn’t changed, still the same sleepy city tucked away between twin mountain ranges, the smell of pine heavy in the air. His house is how he left it, so is his neighbourhood. He drives by the familiar faded sign of Emmy’s Diner, the Police Department with its big white hollywood-style letters and rusting iron gates.
He heard that you work at the new video store down the road from his house now. Flashy, neon signs and all. Leon wonders what it’s been like for you, staying behind when he left for college, how the city has cradled you in its unchanged arms. If you’ve missed him like he’s missed you.
He pushes the glass panelled door to the video store open, the store bell tinkling in wake of his arrival. He’s fidgety. Leon hasn’t been fidgety in a very long time. He does not remember the last time he hesitated around a girl. Well, he does, it was you when he was awkward and nineteen, but since then? It has been a long road. Too long.
But then he spots you, and it’s as if the world narrows down to this one moment.
You’re leaning against the counter, eyes downcast, lazily flipping through a magazine. The overhead lights catch the strands of your hair—it’s shorter now. He wonders when you had it cut, why you chose the new style. A part of him aches, realising just how much time has passed, how long a year can be when he’s not in your orbit.
Without thinking, he beelines for the horror section, eyes scanning the rows of movie titles as his fingers brush over each DVD spine. He glances at you out of his periphery, half-watching the way you absentmindedly flip through your magazine.
Come on, come on, come on.
H, I, J, K…
Bingo.
He slides Kairo across the counter, heart stumbling in his chest. You don’t even glance up as you take it into your hands, half-focused on whatever glossy pages have your interest, but you do smile when you register the title in your hands.
“Good choice,” you hum, your fingers already moving to punch the movie code into the register.
“Yeah? You think so?” His voice is a little rougher than he intended, but he presses on, tries to act casual as he leans up against the counter. In honesty, he feels like a dork. “Most people I know say it’s not all that great…”
Your fingers freeze over the buttons. That voice, those words. Your eyes shoot up to meet his.
“Leon?”
“Hey.” He smiles, catching the way your expression shifts, disbelief melting into something warmer. “What’s wrong? Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”
You laugh suddenly, that bright, familiar sound, filling the empty space between you. For a moment the months apart don’t seem so long. “God, you did not just quote Scream at me.”
Leon’s dusty blonde hair falls into his eyes as he drops his head to hide his grin. “Yeah that was… Not my best.”
Shaking your head, you slide the DVD back across the counter, still smiling beautifully at him. “You didn’t tell me you were going to be back in town!” You sound breathless as the words escape you.
“Just for the semester break,” He says, his voice steady but soft. “Figured I’d come back before you forgot what I look like.”
You blink. Something in his expression must’ve given him away, because then you smile—small, almost shy. “I missed you too,” you hum, and the words hang in the air like they’ve been waiting to be said.
But just like that you bounce back, as if the vulnerability in your tone was never even there at all, drumming your fingers across the countertop. “You shoulda told me, we could’ve planned something nice.”
“Oh, like a date?”
You blush. Blush. Fuck. You don’t remember him being this forward.
“Are you suggesting something, Kennedy?” You tilt your head, honeyed gaze and all.
Damn you and those fucking eyes, he thinks.
“Well, I was thinking… maybe we could go to Emmy’s after your shift? You know, catch up, and I can tell you all the terrible jokes I’ve collected since I’ve been away.”
Your smile widens, and there’s something in your eyes that makes him feel like he might’ve just found his way back home. “I’d like that, Leon. A lot.”
Emmy’s diner hums with a life that he’s missed. The sound of casual conversation, plates clattering, the soft croon of Bob Dylan from the old jukebox. It’s how he left it. Same peeling leather booths, linoleum tables, vinyl floorings, bottomless pots of coffee and the smell of sizzling burgers over the griddle in the back.
You share a booth at the back, your boots propped up on the round metal base of the table while you watch Leon with a small pout as he stands by the counter, waiting for a takeout box. The old fluorescent lights cast a soft glow over him, highlighting the little changes—slightly broader shoulders, a more defined jawline, longer hair, no glasses. But he’s still your Leon.
When he turns back, takeaway box in hand, he catches you in the act—a fry pinched between your fingers, dragging it through his ketchup in lazy swirls. You beam up at him, your eyes crinkling at the corners, and Leon feels his chest do a violent lurch, feels his heart rattle in the cage of his ribs, clawing to jump out and into your waiting hands.
It’s the kind of smile that would have driven him crazy when he was younger—when he was all nerves and stuttered words around you. And God, if it doesn’t still have the same effect.
“You know,” Leon starts as he settles into his seat, “there’s a fine line between sharing and stealing. You’re definitely crossing it.”
You roll your eyes, pushing the fry basket back towards him in a silent peace offering. “You weren’t going to finish them anyway.”
Leon chuckles softly, he doesn’t know what to say then, no witty quip on his tongue or eager reply. “It's about the principle," His voice finally comes, something soft. "But I guess I’ll let it slide this once."
You laugh, and the sound is like a balm, soothing the ache in his chest. “How generous of you,” you reply, playing footsies with him under the table. It’s in this moment Leon realises, everything he’s ever wanted is right in front of him. He’s spent so much of his life chasing. Chasing, chasing, chasing, he’s always been chasing.
Now he thinks he’d like to slow down.
And that’s what he does, when he takes you home that night, you twirl through the door of his old home, giddy as you track the familiar path to his bedroom. It’s how you remember it, same posters on the wall, same black Paul Reed Smith tucked into the corner.
Leon, however, is so much gentler than you remember him being, careful hands sliding up your waist as he walks you back towards his bed. Your calves hit the edge, breath caught in your throat as you tilt your head up to meet his gaze. His lips find yours, slot perfectly, he groans against your lips and you melt into his embrace.
Leon’s palm slides down to the underside of your thigh, lifts it up enough to help you back onto the bed.
Your words get caught in your throat, but they’re not needed—not now, not with Leon. He’s always known you like the back of his hand. His lips move over your face, your cheek, your jaw. Your arms settle around his neck.
It’s like muscle memory to Leon now, the way he slots his knee between your thighs, how his hands move over your torso, up your body.
Your mind wanders—a dangerous thing in times like these—and you find yourself growing a little jealous. You're not dense; you know he’s probably had other girls in his bed between his time away in California. You wonder if they were any good.
Leon doesn’t let you dwell on those thoughts, has your voice catching in your throat as his fingers tease the underside of your breasts. He looks up at you, those same deep blue eyes studying you, yet unreadable all the same. Your skin burns beneath his gentle touch. Hot, hot, hot everywhere he touches.
One of his hands come up to cup the same cheek he had kissed earlier, his touch featherlight. He looks at you—part adoring, part like he’s planning your ruination.
“Leon… Please. ” You beg desperately then, and in response he groans. As if he’s waited too long to hear you say his name like that again, all needy and breathless.
“Makes me wanna wreck you,” He murmurs against your mouth, his breath hot and heady, “when you talk like that. So fuckin’ sweet.”
And God if that doesn’t do it for you. A whine falls past your lips, eager, tender, desperate, and Leon’s sure he’s never heard anything as beautiful in his life.
Your skirt is off in a flash, so is his shirt, then yours, then his jeans, so on and so forth until your bare cunt is pressing against his thigh he’s conveniently slotted back between the apex of your legs. He presses his knee up against your wet cunt, mutual groans filling his bedroom. All it takes is a tremble of your lips, and Leon’s kissing you twice as hard.
“Tell me what you need,” He’s eager to please.
“You.” You, you, you, always you.
There’s a reverence in your words he cannot shake, a promise laced into the moan that tumbles from your lips. His hands smooth over your abdomen again, spreading your thighs wider to accommodate him in the space between.
“Yeah?” He hums, one of his hands runs from the corner of your jaw to your chin, the other gives a purposeful squeeze to your waist. “I need you too. Want you.”
The sincerity in his voice floors you, hits you harder than any kiss, any touch. This isn’t just lust, this is Leon, raw and open, offering you something more than you’d expected. Something you’ve always wanted but were too scared to admit. You feel the sudden sting of tears kiss the corners of your eyes, startling yourself.
“Leon…” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. He cuts you off with a gentle kiss, one that’s soft and sweet, filled with a promise that leaves you breathless.
"You’re it for me. I’m yours," he whispers into your mouth. "If you’ll have me."
Your heart stumbles over itself, caught somewhere between disbelief and a feeling you’re not sure how to put into words. “I’ve always had you.”
He laughs softly then, “Yeah. Guess you have, huh?”
It’s now, he realises, you’d never left his orbit in the first place. You’d always been there, one way or another, a constant in his life he’d never be able to shake despite how hard he’d try. You really are it for him.
“I want you too,” You blurt, the words tumbling out too fast. “I want this, want you. I always have.”
The rest is unsaid. He kisses you again with a smile, your hands drift over his back, trace the contours of every plane of muscle, press against the space between his shoulders. His hands run over the curve of your breasts, the dip of your waists, caress the skin of your thighs and leave gooseflesh in their wake. You can’t stand it—how utterly gentle he is. It makes you want to cry.
You take Leon’s hand, leading it down to where you need him most. With precision you drag his fingers up through your folds, tantalisingly slow before pressing the pad of his index to your clit. You let out the softest of whimpers at the sight, his hand on your cunt. Fuck. You don’t take your eyes off the sight before you, even as you push his fingers back down, until you slip just the tip of his finger past your walls.
Your gaze flicks up to gauge his reaction, and you're more than pleased at the sight before you. Leon Kennedy, his eyes wide, mouth hung open in a small ‘o’, like he’s never seen pussy before.
“What’s wrong, baby?” You hum, amusement dripping from your lips—but your voice comes out in between panted breathes, unable to still your thump, thump, thumping heart.
He looks back up to meet your gaze, shaking his head as a grin stretches across his lips. “No, sweetheart, don’t play your games with me.” He huffs, withdrawing his hand, leaving you whining, before he pushes your thigh up to your chest.
You’re disappointed by just how fast he manages to school himself, no longer desperate for more, now invested in the waiting game.
“You want it that bad?” He croons, voice a teasing lilt against the shell of your ear, kissing the skin behind it as his body comes back down over yours. Your leg hooks around his back, hands on his shoulders, in his hair.
“Are you gonna make me beg?” Your laugh is soft, breathlessly incredulous.
He grins against your skin as he presses a kiss to your neck. “I wouldn’t mind that.”
His lips trail a path from neck to collar, tender kisses that intensify into bruising hickeys so fast your head swims. He litters your chest in lovebites, his hand moving on its own accord as he presses two fingers against your sopping cunt. He teases you, drawing circles around your entrance, grinning against the valley of your breast as he kisses down your sternum when your cunt flutters against his hand.
He drags his fingers up, up, up, presses them to the bead of your clit in a way that makes you squirm, another round of featherlight circles that makes you keen.
“Leon, holy shit—” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, watching as he sinks his fingers into your cunt, right down to the knuckle.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
You don’t have to look at him to hear the shit eating grin in his words.
The pads of his fingers press against ribbed flesh, scissoring you open. When he pulls them back out, palm against your clit, a moan bubbles up past your lips. He shushes you, sweet nothings whispered against the cavern of your throat.
His hand, glimmering with your arousal, finds its way to your lips. “Open,” He murmurs, and so you do, lips parted for his fingers to press curiously against your tongue. Your heart hammers in your chest, thighs pressing into his sides as you blink up at him. You’re beautiful like this, a picture of pleasure that he wants to sear into his mind, brand across his heart so he won’t forget.
You moan around his fingers and his heart stutters pitifully in his chest, he needs to hear you like that again. “Want more, sweetheart?” His voice is rough as he pushes his hips against yours teasingly, has your eyes fluttering shut and rolling back. “Need words, baby.”
Leon chuckles as you struggle to speak around his fingers pressing to your tongue, a muffled yeah caught in your throat. He placates your whine that follows with a kiss to the underside of your jaw, lining his hips up with yours as he goes.
He sinks in as deep as he can get, searing hot, like he’s desperate to melt through, skin to skin, atom to atom. You push back, chasing that same euphoric feeling, a groan falling from your lips as you choke around his thick fingers in your mouth. You twist your neck, your nose pushing into his cheek as you seek his warmth.
“Got you,” He mumbles into your skin, voice ragged. A forearm is braced by your head before he pulls his hand from your mouth, moving to hold your body. His hand presses into the gentle curve of your waist like it was made for the palm of his hands. Smearing your spit across your skin as he goes.
When Leon’s with you like this, your body beneath his, he’s so sure this is how it’s meant to be. God, you’re perfect in every sense of the word—surely this is fate’s crashing course, isn’t it? Driven together by some higher power, an invisible thread of gold looped around both your fingers.
Has to be, surely. Feels too good when his hips push into yours, shared moans tumbling from both your lips, when his lips find yours once more and he’s swallowing each one like a man starved. You’ve missed the way he feels, how he stretches you out so deliciously, fills you up and seats deep inside you like he’s made for it.
Your hands on his shoulders blades dig burning half-moon crests into his skin, dragging your nails down his back, eliciting a low groan from deep within his chest.
“Shit, pussy’s fuckin’ made for me,” He all but groans into your ear, dick pushing in at a steady pace, sickeningly slow in a way that makes you ache.
Please, please, please, your mind screams, begging for him to hurry up, give you more. You’ve waited so long to have him like this again, why should you wait any longer?
Leon’s laugh vibrates against the shell of your ear, “Beggin’ already, sweetheart?”
Oh. You’ve said it out loud.
“Don’t tease,” You plead with him.
“Tease? No m’not teasing, that’d be cruel,” He croons, “M’just taking my time with my baby.”
You want to sob. God, he is cruel. You think this must be karma for all those times you’d teased him when you were younger, worked him so close to the edge then pulled him away—
But then his hips slam against yours and a sob lurches from your throat. “Leon!” You cry, nails digging deeper into his back you worry you might draw blood.
“God, just look at you, sweetheart,” He pulls back enough to meet your gaze, hand on your hip moving to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. “Crying on my dick. Fuck. ”
His hips are bruising, not an ounce of mercy in the way he ruts into your cunt.
“Can’t,” You whine, tears in your eyes.
He shakes his head, hair falling into his face, obstructing your pretty view, as his hand cups your jaw. “Yeah you can, baby.”
“No, it’s– too much—” You try to get him to understand, you won’t last like this.
He knows before the words even leave your lips. “Aw, pretty baby, gonna come f’me already?”
More tears spill from your eyes, he kisses them away with gentle lips, almost humorously different from the pace of his hips. “That’s okay,” He decides, “You wanna come now, that’s fine. Jus’ means you gotta keep taking it till I'm done.”
You’re so fucked.
“Can you do that, sweetheart?”
In the haze of your mind you comply.
“Good girl,” You arch your back at the praise, he slips in deeper if that’s even possible. “Good girl, come for me. Let me see you.”
Who are you to deny him?
You come with a soft cry of his name, words sticky with the tightness of your throat, a babbling mess underneath him as he works you through it. He’s not a complete dickhead though, he slows down to accommodate the ache between your legs, gives you a moment to collect yourself as his hand moves to interlock with yours, holding it by your head.
“How was that?” He asks you on the comedown.
You’re burning bright, you feel like the sun, your heart ablaze in your chest. Your mind is left in a haze, and when it ebbs away, it’s as though sunspots linger in your vision. You look at him, really look at him now, rings of blue in his blown out eyes, hair tousled, lips red and raw.
You kiss him in lieu of a proper response, tongue and teeth, messy and desperate as your hands hold his face. He groans against your mouth, you feel his dick pulse between your tight walls and you preen internally. Even after all this time you still have him wrapped around your finger.
You giggle at the thought, drowning in the gilding golden haze of the pleasure he’s given you.
“What’s so funny?” He hums, smile sweet on his lips.
“Nothin’,” You hum, eyes half-lidded.
He grins a little wider, something cunning. “Come again, sweetheart, didn’t quite catch that.” His hips roll into yours, a moan falls past your lips.
“I said– Oh. ” Nevermind.
Another roll of his hips.
“Speak up, baby,” Another, another, another.
You give up trying to get any words out, fruitless attempts reduced to whimpers as you melt into the mattress below him. Your hands wander back over his back, shoulder blades and muscles shifting under your palms as you sooth the ridges that have emerged from where you’d left your stinging mark.
You're tight as sin, sucking him back in salaciously. Leon’s not going to last much longer at all.
He makes as much known. He whines and you swallow each sound like it’s a sweet prize. His hips snap into yours at a brutal pace, whimpers falling from your lips at each time he drives it home. He has half the mind to pull out, but then your legs are wrapping around his waist, trapping him, keeping him firm in place.
“Sweetheart– fuck , baby–” His words carry the weight of protest but you’re stubborn, always have been.
“ Please Leon?” You’re so sweet, aren’t you? “Want it inside, want you to come in me pretty please–?”
He couldn’t say no to you if he tried. “Shit, that’s what you want, baby? Huh? Need me to fill you up real good?” His voice is low in your ear, a bark that matches his bite.
“ Yes. ”
“Fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, I’ll give you what you need, alright?” He placates, and you’re sweet as you mewl in response. “Yeah, anything you want.”
“M’so close,” He’s brought you to tears again, and this time he lets himself relish in the sight of them dribbling down your cheeks. “So close–”
Leon’s thrusts grow shallow with time, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy once more. “Let me feel you, baby,” He mumbles into the skin of your shoulder, his hand gripping yours in a knuckle white grip, the other so tight around your hip it’s sure to leave behind bruises in the morning.
Not a thing you’re saying is comprehensible anymore, slurred words sobbed into the crook of his neck as your cunt does the talking for you. You flutter around his aching length, clamping down around him as the pressure building at the base of your spine snaps in half, a broken cry of his name tumbling from your lips.
Leon reaches his breaking point in quick pursuit, tumbling over that edge just as you do, fucking his release deeper into your cunt. “So sweet, so sweet, so sweet,” He chants, a babbling mess of emotions as you milk him dry. “So good, s’good, baby, fuck. ”
For a few moments, you are nothing but two bodies, twined together, panting and huffing as you catch your breaths. Leon’s hand, still in yours, squeezes reflexively. His face falls into the crook of your neck as his fingers dig further into the flesh of your waist. You hear his breathing grow ragged, his body trembling above you. You think you hear a whine slip past his lips, only solidified when he pulls back and you catch the glassy look in his eyes.
“We should do this again sometime.” You grin playfully.
“Jesus, Sweetheart.” Leon shakes his head, wet chuckle caught in his throat. “I plan on doing this a lot more often than sometimes. ”
You hum, your knuckles tracing the curve of his cheek before you sweep his hair out of his eyes. “I’d like that.”
There’s a pause then, words hanging in the air. “But at least let me get it right this time. I’ll take you out to dinner, how’s that?”
“Perfect.”
"I meant it, you know." His voice is quieter now, more vulnerable. "About wanting to get it right." He looks at you like he's seeing everything he's been chasing, right in front of him.
You tilt your head, a soft smile playing at your lips. "I know."
Fate is curious, you think—tugging at the golden threads that make up the spider's web of your universe as she pleases, weaving people together and pulling them apart with equal ease. You realise, as you lie with your head on Leon’s chest later that night, that fate has been kind to you. Leon's strong arm envelops you, grounding you in a way only he ever has. Home is inbetween his arms. You listen to the gentle beat of his heart, steady in his chest, pounding beneath your ear.
Without much thought, you find yourself holding your breath, syncing the thump of your heart with the beat of his, a satisfied smile curving your lips when your breathing finally falls perfectly in time.
warnings: NSFW, sugardaddy! Leon, fem! reader, oral (f receiving), praise kink, age gap
summary: broke reader looks for a sugar daddy which happens to be Leon S. Kennedy
words: 4.1k
“A week? How am I expected to find the money for rent by then?”
“I’ve given you 2 months to figure that out. This is the last straw, if rent is not paid by then, I’m afraid I’ll have to kick you out.”
“But I don’t even have a job I-”
The asshole hung up. Yet another door slamming right in your face. You throw your phone down on your couch as you sit next to it and contemplate what to do next. You can’t find enough money to pay in the span of a week, that’s impossible. You’ve been eating instant ramen for almost 3 weeks straight to cut down on costs, you’re starting to forget what real food tastes like.
You sigh and think about how you ended up in this situation in the first place, once being a hopeful college student who just graduated, full of energy, life, and so much optimist it’s nauseating. Found a new apartment in the capital and moved in a week later to find a job with nothing other than 3 cents to your name and a dream. You anticipated that finding a job with your degree won’t be such a difficult task, sure, your GPA wasn’t the best, but surely it won’t be that hard to secure a job.
If only you knew how naïve you were.
You’ve spent the past 4 months looking for a job left and right. Are people seriously not hiring these days? Either that or someone is praying on your downfall, or perhaps both. You’re way past the state of rock bottom at this point, if you looked through a dictionary for the word “fucked” a picture of your face would be there instead, smiling proudly with a medal around your neck. Your fingers claw at your life-long dreams as they try to slip away from your grasp.
Picking the skin off your lips, you start thinking about how you might have to move back to your home town, live with your parents again while they give you the ‘I told you so’ look, have to deal with people’s comments on why you came back and then have explain like a low life loser why. You start racking your brain for ways to find money, you need cash, and you need it fast.
How about you start selling drugs? Nah, you’d never survive in a field like that. Become a stripper perhaps? You’d fall off that pole and break your neck before you would’ve made a single penny. Your brain is filtering through the possible options you have at hand so quickly, your positive that smoke is coming out your ears at this rate. And that’s when you get it, the answer you were looking for.
A sugar daddy.
Bingo. The picture in your head features a white light with the silhouette of a smoking hot man in a suit leaning on a Porshe in the distance as dollar bills fall like flower petals angelically behind him. You do find older men a little hot, not that you tried dating any, but you’re not opposed to the idea of doing so. You’re no stranger to developing crushes on some older celebrities and video game characters, so this shouldn’t be any different…right? Look, you didn’t want it to reach this point, but desperate times call for desperate measures and in a week from now, you’re going to be homeless if you don’t start searching for someone’s dad to date right now. And apparently that’s all it took to convince you, as you find yourself downloading the app already.
Once the download is complete you open it, and you’re starting setting up your account. You pick the nicest picture you have of yourself, and it doesn’t take long before your account is good to go. Your eyes scan the matches that pop up on the screen, seeing the different faces in front of you that could be your new ticket of getting out of the predicament you’re in. And as you look, you read some of the disgusting bios that these men have, and soon enough a wave of self-awareness comes crashing down on you making you feel utterly disgusted with yourself. Are you seriously willing to go on dates with these dirty old men whose intentions are most definitely filthy, and for what? A hundred or two? You’re better than that, you’re an inspiring young woman with so mu-
Ding!
The device in your hand vibrates, grabbing your attention as you get sent a message request from someone on the app. You open the message, the username is L.S.Kennedy and his message says
“Are all girls usually this pretty? Or is it just you?”.
You stare at the message in front of you for a good minute, that might’ve been the cheesiest thing you’ve ever read since middle school. The account that sent it doesn’t have a profile picture and the bio just mentions his age. He is in his early forties, and aside from that you know nothing about the man. Your survival instincts start kicking in telling you that it’s a bad idea, talking to strangers especially men, online is how most people end up murdered only for their bodies to be found in a ditch. In addition, this man is cringy as fuck, there is no way he thought that would actually work. Those fifty dollars are not worth the years these jokes of his are going to take off your life span. No way, won’t work, you’d rather be homeless.
Ding!
“Sorry if I came on too strong, I want to get to know you. How about 500$ for a first date? I’m willing to go higher.”
Your eyes go wide as you reread the number on your screen over, and over again. 500$. One date.
You love cringy and sappy shit, always had. They are in fact your favorite, love you a man with some cheesy pick-up lines. Call it love, call it fate, but this L.S.Kennedy guy is actually starting to grow on you.
“Hi! No not at all, I’d like to know you as well.”
Okay, that’s a lie. Being a slut and a liar is too much. You couldn’t care less about getting to know him, but alas rent won’t pay itself. The two of you then start talking for around an hour or two, he seems like a really nice guy. His name is apparently Leon and actually lives not too far away. His jokes are well… interesting. Epitome of dad jokes but again the man is the same age as your dad so that’s no surprise. On the bright side, he’s respectful and shockingly hasn’t said anything sexual or made you feel uncomfortable, so that’s a good start. Maybe this whole idea isn’t so bad after all.
The date was set for tomorrow at 7pm. He offered to pick you up but you refused. Listen, you’re dumb enough to go on a date with a man you knew for less than two hours for some quick cash, but not dumb enough to send him your address. The date will be at a nearby restaurant, one of the fanciest restaurants in Washington DC. You even heard that some celebrities and governmental officials actually go there.
Truth be told, you’re starting to get excited, this is by far the nicest thing a man has ever done to you. Albeit, the voice at the back of your head keeps reminding you that he could be dangerous, a stalker, a criminal, or worse, likes banana flavored stuff. A man with this much money is either in a higher up position, or simply working with the wrong people. Now that you think about it, perhaps asking him what he does for a living would’ve been a wise choice. But you didn’t want to sound like you were going after his money! Well, you are but at the end of the day, you still have manners.
The next day eventually rolls around and you start getting ready. You pick the best dress you have that hugs your body perfectly. Wanted to go for something which screams classy and elegant yet still hot. Just because you’re in debt, doesn’t mean you need to look like it as well.
Your friend agrees to drops you off at the location, she knows you’re going on a date with some guy you met on a dating app. She was almost as excited as you were when you found out where this “gentleman” was treating you. Little does she know this said “gentleman” is twice your age… let’s just hope you’re not going out on a date with someone’s husband.
Walking into the restaurant, you shoot him a text informing him that you arrived. Your phone vibrates a couple seconds later with a text that says.
“Waiting for you on the table near the second window.”
You start making your way to the table, and when you eventually find it, you’re greeted by the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your entire life standing near the table. He smiles softly and compliments you, you brain still didn’t register what he said though, as you’re still in awe with how good he looks.
Light brown hair, stormy blue eyes, a slight stubble decorating his chin and crow’s feet forming on the corner of his eyes as he smiles. His body, is in such a good form. Broad shoulders and massive biceps making the white button up shirt that he’s wearing tight in some areas. The chest, oh the chest, surprised how he’s not wearing a bra with those pillows glued to his chest, enough milk supply to feed a whole village.
The hidden cameras better come out now cause you’re definitely getting set up. This man is paying you to go out with him, while you’d pay a kidney and sell your friend for him to even step near you. He definitely has the sugar and daddy part checked off. You spent all this time searching for a job with no success, and you bag him first try? Maybe you should consider switching domains.
The two of you sit down at your table. The view from the window next to you is breath taking, the sun is setting and as she does, the rays reflect on the glass windows of the building below you creating a masterpiece of orange and red hues. The breeze up here is so refreshing, as the faint sound of by-passing cars honk below you. Your eyes move back to the man in front of you.
“This place is nice.”
“Glad you like it sweetheart.”
You’re already fighting the urge to sit on his lap and all he did was call you a stupid pet name. If you were a dog, your tail would definitely be wagging right now. The waiter eventually walks over to your table and you both place your meals before he walks away leaving the two of you alone once more.
“Can I ask you a question?” you say and he raises an eyebrow in return followed by a polite smile.
“Sure, go ahead.”
“Why do you not have your name or your face on your profile?”
Understandable question, he’s hot as fuck and would have woman fighting over him on that app if he showed his face. He chuckles at your question, the kind of laugh that sounds like a yacht and a mansion in the Maldives.
“Well, my field of work requires me to keep a low profile, not that I’m complaining anyway. Plus I don’t think my face is really important in these kinds of dates anyways. I know that probably looked really suspicious but I can assure you, I’m not trying to kill you.” He says the last part as he raises his hands defensively.
You nod gently in return. While that did answer some of the questions you had, you were still intrigued to learn more about him. What field does he work in anyway? How can he afford all this? Curiosity was getting the best of you, and so you ask.
“What do you do for a living?”
He grins, and looks at you for a few moments before answering.
“Hmm I get it. Nothing illegal, so that pretty head of yours can stop worrying.” You’re honestly a bit embarrassed now, it’s a date not an interview. But you needed to make sure that you’re safe okay! Better safe than sorry.
He then starts asking questions about your interests, past, favorite movies, etc. And soon enough your food arrives, you continue chatting as you take some bites out of your dish. He’s genuinely interesting, and very attentive. You notice how he watches your expression, body language, and the tone of your voice. Throughout the conversation you learn a bit more about him as well, learned how he went to police academy, hated wearing ties, and thinks that reading books is boring. Last one is a bit problematic, but sure.
Time passes and maybe it’s your brain playing tricks on you, or maybe it’s the wine you keep on sipping, but he seems to get flirtier by the minute. You notice the way his eyes drop down to your lips shamelessly as you speak, and how they linger for a little too long on your chest. You’re not completely innocent however, you are guilty of tilting your head to the side every now and then, batting your pretty mascara covered lashes at him causing a smirk to rise on his face. You manage to get away with it a couple of times before he decides to comment about it.
“Need something sweetheart? I’d like to hear some of those thoughts of yours.”
“I think you’re hot.” That was bold, but he asked for it. Your words don’t even take him by surprise, he knew what you were thinking about, its written all over your face but he just needed you to say it out loud.
“Feelings mutual. How about we get out of here yeah?”
He orders the bill which he pays while leaving a generous tip. The two of you get up, head out the restaurant’s door, and walk over to his car. He opens the door for you in true gentleman fashion and gets in himself. The car smells clean, almost like its brand new. The inside is plain with not much decoration but pretty neat. The windows are tinted blocking out anyone from spying in. He twists the car keys and the engine roars to life and soon enough you start heading towards his place.
Sometime during the ride home, his hand rests on the inside of your thigh and starts slowly moving up to your center before stopping. You bite your lip as heat starts pooling between your legs. His hand then begins caressing your thigh, running his thumb up and down, so close yet so far from where you actually want him to be. The whole time his eyes are fixated on the road ahead of him, simply toying with you for his own fun. Things remain the same for a while before his hands snake up our dress even further, thumb making contact with your cunt. His strokes are lazy and weak, almost as if his fingers are ghosting over your bundle of nerves. Your hips squirm at the sensation and you attempt to move your hips closer to his hand to get more friction. But as you do that moves his hand away from you and repositions itself back on your thigh causing you to whine in protest.
“Almost there baby, can you wait a few minutes more for me? Promise I will make it worth it.”
He looks over to you and you nod a little too enthusiastically. His lips upturn into a smile at your eagerness.
“Such a good girl.” He says, his knuckle brushing against your cheek.
The car then parks at an apartment building, the type that is 16 stories high and the oxygen alone, feels more high quality. He gets out of the car and opens the door for you, before taking your hand in his and making his way to the entrance. The sound of your heels clacking on the tile floor of the reception as you follow his lead to the double doored elevator. You both walk in and he presses the button to the last floor which is followed by the elevator doors closing.
As soon as the two of you are alone in the space, his hand grabs your wrist pinning you onto one of the walls as his other hand grabs your hip before crashing his lips onto yours. You kiss him back, your free hand touching the exposed part of his neck before going up into his hair. He groans at the sensation and grinds his hips into yours, feeling his hardened cock through his pants causing you back to arch. His tongues coax its way into your mouth and you reciprocate. Both of your lips disconnect for a moment as he decides to move to your neck next, sucking and biting on the open skin leaving red and purple marks to blossom in the places where his mouth once was. A soft whine escapes you at the feeling of his hot mouth on the sensitive skin of the crook of your neck.
The elevator dings announcing your arrival, which is followed by the door opening revealing the stupendous penthouse in front of you. The windows are ceiling high and have a wondrous view of the capital, the apartment is dimly lit with only a few lamps illuminating the black and gray living room furniture. The house that you see getting sold for millions of dollars.
“I’ll give you a tour later.”
He says as he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, giving your now exposed behind a smack, and your legs kick in return. He makes his way up the stairs and into what you can only assume is his bedroom before tossing you down on your back and caging you in with his arms. Your hands reach out locking behind his neck pulling him into another kiss, as his hand reaches out for your breast, fondling it through the fabric of your dress.
The stickiness between your legs is starting to get uncomfortable as the sensations of pleasure start taking over you. His hips which are now situated between your legs start rutting against you and open your legs further in return. You feel a hand unzip your dress as you shift slightly allowing him to take the article of clothing off which is then followed by your bra. As soon as your top naked, he wastes no times latching his mouth to one of your stiff peaks, while the other hand flicks the other. He switches between sucking on your nipple and leaving some bite marks of the delicate flesh.
Moments later the removes his mouth with a resounding pop, and starts kissing his way down from the valley between your breasts till the waistband of your panties. He gets off of you for a moment to unbutton his shirt and unbuckle his belt removing it and tossing it somewhere behind him, his pants following a second later. Your eyes travel over his body, unsure where to look at first. Chiseled chest muscles with some trimmed chest hair, defined abs and an unremarkable V line leading to his covered crotch area with few scars scattered all over his body like stars.
“Staring is rude y’know. But you’re cute so I’ll let it pass.” He jokes and moves positioning himself between your legs, he gives your clothed cunt an open-mouthed kiss, his hot breath making you squirm at the feeling.
“Been wanting to taste you all night.”
His fingers grab the hem of your panties pulling them off, revealing your glistening core to him. You feel the familiar sensation of his thumb on your clit once again moving in firm circular motions as his eyes remain glued to your center. The same thumb then moves down to your entrance collecting some of your dripping arousal before going back to its original position.
“Damn baby, all of that for me?”
You nod, your eyes feeling heavy and brain fuzzy from his skilled fingers.
“What you get your clit rubbed a few times and now you can no longer speak? Use your words, I know you can.”
“Yeah, for you. All for you.”
“Atta girl”
He speaks before replacing his thumb with his mouth, your head falls back against the plush mattress as a moan escapes your lips. His hands grab your hips keeping them in place as he eats you like a man starved. He shifts between sucking on your bundle of nerves and dipping his tongue into your entrance, as the prickly feeling of his stubble somehow makes the whole experience much hotter.
Your completely fucked out at this point and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. This is probably the best head you’ve ever gotten in your life. Maybe going after older men was the right call after all. Your hand reaches out and grips his soft hair tugging on it, earning a groan from him which vibrates through you, only intensifying the feeling bubbling inside of you. The view in front of you is now practically burn in the back of your mind till the day you die. The knot in your stomach only seems to get tighter and tighter as his tongue laps over your cunt over and over again.
“Gonna cum.”
“On my face baby, show me how good it feels.”
He opts to focusing on sucking on your clit as two of his fingers penetrate you, and begin to move at the perfect pace and that was enough to send you over the edge. Stars explode behind your eyes as your whole-body shakes. The feeling of his tongue on you that was once causing you pleasure, has now turned into the uncomfortable feeling of overstimulation. You whimper and tug on his hair once again. His face detaches from your core, chin shiny and coated with your arousal as he sucks off the remaining fluid on his fingers and he moves back up removing his underwear. His dick springs free, tip red leaky with precum as he strokes it a few times. Dropping down to your level, he gives your lips a soft kiss while he teases your entrance with his dick for a few moments before he bullies it into you with ease thanks to how wet you’ve gotten. He sucks in a breath of air as your heat envelops him. The tip almost kisses the opening of your cervix as pain and pleasure start to become undifferentiable. You feel full, the fullest you’ve ever been.
“Fuck, tightest fucking pussy I’ve ever had”
Both of you are now face to face with each other, as he gives your furrowed brow a quick peck. His hips then start to move back before going in once more. He grabs your hip with both of his hands as he starts picking up the pace. The look on your face says it all, completely and utterly cock drunk. Eyes droopy, mouth drooling, and babbling pure none sense.
“You still with me sweetheart?” he chuckles as he continues his rocking motion.
“Feels good.”
“And what do you say?”
“Thank you Leon, thank you so much.”
In return, his pace quickens. The sounds of skin smacking and both of your moans fill the quiet room. You don’t know where that came from, never in your life you ever said something like this. This man puts his dick in you once and he’s already rearranging all of your brain chemistry… and your organs. You’re already starting to feel your orgasm creeping up on you once more as your moans only seem to get louder. The pace that Leon is fucking you in, in addition to the praises that are spilling out of his mouth in tandem force another orgasm out of you as you claw at his forearms in attempts to stay grounded.
The spasming sensation of your heat around him causes him to moan as his peak approaches. He pulls out of you, gives himself a few strokes before finishing all over your stomach and collapsing next to you. After his breathing regulates again, gets up, grabs a towel and cleans the mess he made before tucking you in and placing a kiss at the crown of your head.
“Leon” your voice softly calls out to him.
“Yeah?”
“Are all middle-aged men usually this pretty, or is it just you?”
Look, I get that we love Leon's side profile because it makes us wanna ride on it but please tell me you wouldn't just wanna kiss his nose too...
Actually- scrap this whole post because i'm about to just leave kisses on his entire face, kisses on his scruffy jawline n everything idgaf anymore *sighs*
Original Resident evil 4’s Leon is so funny because at the beginning of the game he enters a random guy’s house in Spain, asks him a question in English and then get slightly offended when the resident gets an attitude with him and then shoots him dead when he attacks an intruder that entered his house.
cw: clumsy, awkward shit, desperation, bad fluff (sry), first time, CONSENT CONSENT CONSENTT KING, creampie, shower time, mentions of alcohol, oral (f receiving), hand job, overstim a lil bit, hella dirty talking, light choking, multiple orgasms, soft dumbification, and nipple play. Lmk if I missed anything!
wc: 3.9k
dedicated to the lovely: zoepallvc !!
tags: @adiorxia @admirxation @rigorwhoring @nilpill @lottiies @leonkennedygvrl @leonsdolly @dilfstar @gettingsilly @bonnibuckets @bunnyclaire @dollfacefantasy ahh just tagging all my moots 😣!!
Awkward confessions being blurred out as you two were drinking in this living room. Soft shades of warm hues painting your skins, flushing out the cool tones of the night sky. His hand on yours, mouth slotting against yours as if it were natural. Normal.
Both of you couldn't help yourselves anymore. The tension was thicker than oatmeal and ice cream cake. Soft giggles and blows into the wet caverns as you clumsily clashed teeth against teeth. Hot breaths of alcohol waft through the air. The bottles of Mike's Hard Strawberry Lemonade and a bottle of Crown Royal Whisky strewn across the coffee table. Alongside keys and stacks of mail, unopened.
His hands travel across the bumpy surface of your body, mapping out every single dip. Being careful not to squeeze too hard or grope you in places neither of you are ready to explore with one another. If he wasn't drunk, he would've stopped at every inch and looked at you for confirmation.
Your hands too, roamed wildly on his body. A soft gasp left you as soon as he guided you to his lower abdomen. Wanting—no—needing you to touch him. To give him the same attention he's giving you. Of course, the amount will almost never be the same. It's okay though, minds too heavy to even think rational thoughts. So who gives a fuck if he loves you more. Gives you more attention and doesn't expect the same amount back. It's been like this since day one.
Leon has always had your back, especially during your childhood years. Both of you stuck to each other like glue. Always helping you when a guy gave you trouble or rejected you. Wished it was him that you imagined between your thighs. To be the first one to take your virginity with everything. But he thought it was too much to even ask for. So he settled with just staying best friends with you.
Of course, alcohol gave him the courage to even be doing this to you right now. But he knows better than to sleep with you instantly. Got to take things slow… to woo you over and make you yearn for him to be inside of you. To desire him pounding you with all of his might.
You've seen his build many times, gulping as his arms got bigger than they used to be. When small veins would pop up on his forearms or his hands, it made your mouth just start pooling up.
Or when the two of you would play fight, feeling his arms easily wrap around you and trap you against his body. One arm around your shoulders and the other around your delicate waist.
Tossing and turning, you wearily remember last night. The kisses and heated touches you guys exchanged. Good god. You groan and flip over, reaching for Leon.
“Leon. Wake up,” you croak out, rubbing your face with the palms of your hands.
He grumbles, moving his legs, slowly waking up from the sound of your voice. He rolls over to his side, hands finding you and pulling you close to his bare chest.
Your hands push up against his pecs, shaking him slightly. Giving him a few nudges with your feet, feeling his warmth soak into your skin like water. Makes you feel sleepy but you know you shouldn't fall back asleep. You have to get up and take care of your headache and relieve yourself!
He opens his eyes slowly, a small smile creeping up on his lips. A toothy awkward smile. “Good morning beautiful,” he hums huskily.
Doughy thighs squeezing together instinctively from the sound of his voice. Fuck. How did you even stay around him without jumping his bones?
“Good morning,” you shyly sputter out, looking into his baby blue eyes. Fluttering your eyelashes a few times. Make sure you aren't dreaming of this whole scenario out. Daydreaming even. Maladaptive type shit.
His thumbs gently trace your lower back, his pupils dilating into heart shaped you swear.
You both could stare at each other for hours, if only you didn't have to piss so fucking bad. Might explode if you don't get up any time soon. Well, maybe not explode per say, but your kidney would sure appreciate it if you peed sooner than later!
Pressing a kiss to his cheek, you tap on his arms, signaling him to move them. “I gotta go pee real quick,” shuffling out of the bed in his shirt and your underwear.
Making a quick pace, getting into the bathroom and shutting the door. Relieving yourself with a sigh. Getting up, flushing the toilet, and washing your hands before Leon rattles his knuckles on the door.
“Are you done?”
“Yeah, hold on.” You open the door, seeing him stand there with his hip slanted, arm leaning against the door frame. Of course his lips are painted in a smug sort of smile.
“Let's shower together baby,” he comes up, wrapping his arms around you loosely. Coaxing you into this idea with soft kisses and soft touches. Feeling you relax into his body, practically slumping against him. Cute, he thinks.
Hearing you mumble out an “okay”, he takes the prerogative to slip his shirt off of you. You lift your arms and he tosses it to the ground. Following his actions, you slip your panties off.
Shyly standing before him as his eyes take over you hungrily. Leon hums in appreciation, his hands slowly running up your arms, over your shoulders, and down your chest. Taking his sweet time to appreciate every single thing on your body. Every curve, pimple, dimple, and strand of hair he can see with his eyes.
This man is in love with you. Clear as day!
You tremble with anticipation and adrenaline, feeling goosebumps chasing after his warmth. Letting out a low moan as he cups your breasts in his gigantic hands. Well… they're bigger than your own, that's for sure. You are positive he can hear each breath you take and exhale out through your nose.
He lets go of them after a few soft squeezes. His index and thumb encapsulate your perky nipples, tweaking them curiously.
A zip of pain mixed with slight pleasure swirls around your areolas. Almost buckling from the sight of him and feel of his fingers. “Leon…” you whimper impatiently, hands coming up to tug on his boxers with little force.
“Shh.. I got you princess,” he gives you an idiotic grin. Slowly dipping down to press his lips against yours, teasing you with little licks of his tongue, and soft nibbles.
Groaning when you pull him down by the neck, arms wrapped around him like he's gonna disappear soon. Meanwhile his hands push his briefs down enough for them to fall down his legs.
Soon after he grabs your thighs, directly underneath the cuff of your ass. Picking you up with ease and moving you to the countertop, right next to the sink. His hand moves up to your waist and the other moves to the back of your head. Slowly pulling away and tilting your head back, trying not to pull too hard.
Groaning as you whine and paw at him needily. His lips mark his way down south, stopping to attack your neck with hickeys. Feeling your hands grip at his soft light brown hair. Giving it a few tugs and he bites down slightly harder on your chest. Of course he has to give the same treatment to the other side, kissing the valley of your breasts.
Feeling your stomach tighten up, you wonder if he actually is a virgin like you. How is he so good at making you breathless?
His lips wrap around your nipple and suckles on it, teeth grazing bud making you gasp. Hot wet tongue swirling around it, humming as you moan and press his face further into your tit. Leon's warm hands rub against your back soothingly as his eyes flutter, looking at your reaction.
Pulling away, a string of spit connecting himself to you. Moving to give attention to the other side. He's like making out with your tits, humming and moaning like he's getting action too. His eyes dart up to you, pupils absolutely swallowing his irises. He looks so drunk off of just kissing your chest.
“Can I go further, baby?” Leon's hands slip down to your thighs, giving them a squeeze.
You open them instinctively. Allowing your sensitive parts to be visible to his eyes. Watching his eyes quickly flit down and stare at it. Zoning out practically.
“It's so pretty, “ He coos, pushing your legs wider and spreading your cunt open with his thumbs.
You twitch from how close he is and whine at his compliment. Hands giving his hair a tug closer to your body. Leon chuckles, pressing his lips on your inner thighs, teasing you by nearing where you want him.
Repeating the same process on your other thigh. Leaving little marks wherever his lips collide with your soft skin. “Mhmm… fuck. Smells s’good. Can't wait any longer, beautiful.” He sticks his head further between your doughy thighs, tongue sticking out.
Making contact with your sopping wet cunt. Breath fanning your glistening folds as he just licks it like a candy. Sloppily wrapping his lips at the top, looking up at you like he wants to ask where your clit is.
“Mmph.. Leon it's here,” you lift the hood of your clit and show him it, shyly. He hums in affirmation.
Leon goes buck wild and sucks on it like crazy. Feeling your hips jolt towards him. His gorgeous blue eyes flutter shut, getting lost in the sauce. Your sauce. Sweet and tangy as he's trapped in the smell of you. So overwhelming in the best way possible, really.
You can tell he's enjoying this more than you are. With the way he's moaning and groaning, so much louder than you. The vibrations add fuel to the growing fire in your stomach. You spread your legs just a bit further apart. Making room for his head.
“Leon,” you mewl loudly. Pushing his hair back out of his eyes. “Please…” not sure what you are begging for. But he understands right away.
His right hand slides away from your thigh, fingers teasing around your drippy hole. Slowly pushing his middle and ring finger until he's knuckles deep. Savoring the way you clench around his thick fingers.
“So tight and warm.” He mumbles into your pussy.
Delving back in and sucking on your clit once more. Moving his fingers in and out, not trying to make it hurt. But it's so hard to be patient and not make you cry out his name. He needs to make you feel good. After all these years of playing a cat and mouse game.
Leon's been saving himself for you, hoping you did the same for him. Which he should know by now, since you both only really hangout with each other and mutual friends. Obviously you have your separate lives but it mostly overlaps with one another.
You rock your hips in time with his fingers, gasping when it hits your g-spot. Tugging on his hair to get him impossibly closer to your heat. The sounds of slurping and squelching are echoing throughout his bathroom and into his bedroom.
All this, you would've never thought would become reality. You've imagined him on top of you and whispering the naughtiest things you could think of. His hands touching everywhere on your body, his lips marking where it touches. Proudly claiming that you are his and nobody else's. Holding you extra tight when someone would flirt with you. His crystal blue eyes narrowing and a menacing aura shifting around him.
What snaps you out of your thoughts is when he curls his fingers and his teeth graze your sensitive bud. Can't help that your hands tighten around his poor strands of hair.
“You like that, baby?” Leon hums, watching your expressions intently. Figuring out what makes you tick and what you don't like. And you like this.
A soft whimper rolls off of your tongue and into his ears. It's such a beautiful melody, hearing you enjoy yourself because of him.
“C'mon princess, use your words.” He speeds up his fingers. Looking up at you like you are a god he worships day and night. A condescending tone just drips from his mouth. Acting like he can't figure it out just from the look of you.
“Y-Yeah… mmhg,” you nod your head dumbly. Feeling your thighs start to shake and your gummy walls clenching around his digits. “like it..”
Leon laughs softly and continues. Wanting to make you unravel before you both hop into the shower. It's the least he could do! He swirls his tongue around your clitoris a few times.
You let out a high pitch moan, “‘M gonna cum! ‘M gonna cum…!”
“Cum for me. Let it all out, honey.” He coos at you. His eyes are glued to your face. Watching it turn a light pink. Mouth hanging open wide. “Know you can do it for me.”
The coil in your stomach tightens with a warm gooey liquid making its way down south. It snaps when Leon bites down just a little bit harder on your bud.
All sorts of sounds spew out of your mouth. Whines, his name, and breathy moans. Your upper body starts to shake, thighs closing in on his head, squeezing him. Your stomach tenses and your body wants to curl in on itself.
Leon hums in revelation. His hand slows down to a stop and his mouth travels to your hole. Greedily licking away at your release. Needing every last drop to satisfy himself. He wishes he could store it all in a bottle and drink away at it when he misses you and your sweet cunt. Reluctantly, he pulls away, sucking at his fingers that were inside of you.
You hide your face at that, too embarrassing to watch him enjoy your taste.
“Baby,” his hands slide up around your waist. Standing up to his full height. His head dipping down into the nook of your shoulder. His hot breath tickles your skin, in all the right ways. “Think you can walk?”
You can feel his dick pressing up against your thigh, throbbing with need. It's hot and wet on your skin. “I don't know.” Is what you settle to say.
Before you take another breath, he scoops you up into his arms. Your legs immediately wrap around his fit waist. He steps into the shower and sets you back on the ground, holding onto your waist snugly. Slowly turning on the knob to the right to get the water warm.
Leon pulls the shower diverter pin to switch the water flowing down to have it flow up into the showerhead. He leads you both under the water, his other hand coming up to your eyebrows. Making sure the water doesn't get into your eyes.
Such a romantic!
Stepping closer to his body, in between his feet, you wrap your arms around him. “Do you want to do anything else?”
“Like…what?”
“Mm.. well, your dick keeps poking me…”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” You look up at him with a smile. Sneaking your nimble hands to it. Wrapping them both around it and slowly — but very clumsily — stroking him. Watching his face change as you continue to jerk him off. It's your turn to make him feel good. Or at least you think you should give it back.
Hearing his soft moans. Feeling his hips buck into your hand and his arm tightening around you. Leon's hand slips down to the back of your head. Dipping down to capture your lips in a kiss. His tongue prodding your lips, begging for entry. Hot breaths coming out of his nostrils against your face.
Your mind can't handle kissing him so hungrily, and making him feel good. So, you squeeze his poor cock and in return, Leon tangles his fingers in your hair and pulls it just a bit. Stumbling a bit backwards, you let go of it.
Leon pulls away and kisses around your face. So sweet.
“May I have sex with you?” His eyes blink their way down your wet body. And then back up to your eyes.
His face is flushed, his plump lips are pressed together. He just looks so divine. You want to, want to so bad.
“Yes, please.” Nodding like a madwoman, he gives you a chaste kiss. Patting your head like a cute puppy.
Turning you around and pressing down on your back gently, he goes between your bodies and grabs his length. Teasingly rubbing the sticky tip against your clit and down to your hole, not yet putting it in. Groaning when it slips a little bit into your hole.
“Are you ready, baby girl?”
“Uhuh, I'm ready Leon.” You put your hands on the shower wall as his hand grips onto your hip.
Slowly pushing his cock into you, a soft whine mixed with a moan leaves his lips. Stopping after a few inches are in your pussy. “You okay?”
“Mhmm… you feel so big, Leon.” Pressing your hips back against him as you speak.
Leon's hands grip harder onto your hips. Watching his dick disappear into your wetness. Your gummy walls clinging onto him like he should never leave. Seems like he enjoys being told that his manhood is big.
“Fuck baby, you're so… tight.” He leans down, sliding the rest inside. Groaning when you flutter around him, squeezing him harder. His hips buck and he grazes your womb.
You moan louder, trying to get used to something bigger than a tampon going in and out of you. “Please..” Wincing and involuntarily arching your back.
Leon pulls out and pushes in, a few inches at a time. After a few minutes of gently fucking you, he decides to go just a tad rougher. His eyes narrowing at your ass, watching the way it jiggles as his pelvis makes contact with it.
He's always thought you had a nice ass. Now, it's going to be forever ingrained in his mind, as it moves like water. Bouncing back onto him.
“Baby, fuck,” he whines, going faster. Hearing your desperate moans and whimpers makes all his thoughts drip down to his cock.
Leon wants to kiss you so bad. Kiss you and fondle you whilst he's pounding you. Not sure if his brain would short-circuit and ejaculate prematurely. He's too deep into you to ever want to pull out though.
His hands slide up to your breasts, squeezing them as if they were stress balls. Lowering down so his chest is merely inches away from your back. Feeling the heat radiating off of his body.
“You like that?” Breathing heavily into your ear like it's asmr. Snaking his arm around your neck, the other one wrapping around your waist. Needing you to be as close to him as possible. Even if it meant lightly choking you with his soft muscles. “Like it when I manhandle you? Mhmm, I know you do. Every time we wrestled, you think I couldn't hear you gasping and whining?”
It's dizzying how easily he can maneuver you. You can't really tell if he's trying to make you break, or if he's just talking to talk. Probably the former.
It's sort of frustrating how much he can remember and pays attention to your every little expression and noise. It's almost as if he has a small part of his brain just dedicated to you, storing everything about you there. Which really, should flatter you. Such a man wrapped around you like a vine.
“Fuck, I do. I love it,” you claw at his forearm, arching your back. Feeling the way his fat leaky tip goes impossibly deeper, curving around your squishy muscle. Unable to help yourself when your eyes roll into the back of your head, tilting back against his chest.
He's barely pulling out in this position and he groans. “Yeah, I'm always right, baby. I know you better than yourself,” he coos condescendingly. “Play with that pretty little clit of yours.” He can't help but laugh, trailing off into a whimper. Pressing kisses against your temple.
It doesn't take you long to spring a leak! With all that dirty talking he keeps mumbling into your ear. His hand groping your front side insatiably. With his stamina, really, he could go at it all night like a rabbit.
“Mmm… been dreaming of stuffing you full of my cock for a long time. Wanted to hear your pretty voice and feel you against me. Shit, this feels unreal.” Leon grunts through his teeth. Clenching his jaw tight.
Your legs almost give in, pressing back against him hard. Letting strings of cries and unimaginable sounds out from the bottom of your lungs. Feeling numb from the waist down. Luckily, Leon holds you upright, still plapping away into your soaked cavern.
“Good job. Good girl, sweet fucking—shit.” Your boyfriend growls, removing his arm around your neck to push your lips together. Swooping in for a spit filled kiss. His manhood is twitching against your womb.
“Want you to cum inside,” you lick into his mouth as he moans breathily. Pressing you tighter against him once those words reach his ears.
“Yeah? Want me to fill this pussy up with my cum? Get you pregnant and—” He can't even hold on for much longer. Just the idea of pumping you full and the possibility of getting you pregnant just makes his veins jump.
Leon whimpers, spurting rope after rope of his load into your womb. Your pussy greedily latching onto him and milking him for what he's worth. He's still humping into you. Fantasizing about the day you both have a family, a white picket fence and a cute dog in the picture too.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, precious.” He hesitates to pull out, sad at the idea of his little swimmers falling out of you.
Being the good guy he is, he cleans you both off. Massaging your hips and lower back, fearing he went a bit too hard on you. Running the soft pads of his fingers through your hair, with you resting against his chest.
Littering your face and neck with sweet kisses. Drying you both off and placing fresh clothes on your body. Laying down in the bed, cuddling one another.
“Maybe next time, we'll do it in my bed.” He jabs your arm lightly with his elbow. Already thinking of the next time both of you will go at it like teenagers. Clumsy and desperate.
“Yeah. Maybe next time, someone will buy condoms.” And that makes him whine, pouting down at you.
“But baby,” he tugs you closer to his chest, “I'll take care of you and the baby.”
“Leon.” You whack at his chest. Trying to smack some sense into him. “We can't have kids right now.*
“Who said so?”
“Me.”
“Well, I say we can and should.”
“Huh. Whatever you say boss man.”
“Don't call me that. It sounds gross.” Leon scowls playfully, feigning disgust in his voice. His blue hues twinkled softly.
“Okay, big guy.” You erupt into a fit of laughter. Leon joined you immediately after. The vibrations buzzing against your hand on his chest. Safe and warm. Like home.
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