hello there! @ao3-rex1223 and I are collabing this month for Smutmas! 💜
starting 14 December, there will be a new fic from one of us! each fic will be clearly labeled, but just to reiterate it’s 18+ so MDNI
if you don’t like the material, don’t read it! Hope you all enjoy! Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays! 😘
<List will be updated as we go along!>
🎄14 December
ao3 rex - Turn Me On To Turn Me On || Android!Leon x fem!reader
🎄15 December
Breeding Kink || Subby Stepbro!Leon x fem!reader
🎄 16 December
ao3 rex - 3 Of A Kind || Leon x fem!reader x Chris
🎄17 December
Cock Worship || Shape Shifter/Wendigo!Leon x fem!reader
🎄 18 December
ao3 rex - Tell Me How You Feel || Psychiatrist!Leon x fem!reader
🎄19 December
Thigh Riding || Priest!Leon x fem!reader
🎄 20 December
ao3 rex - True Friends || Best Friend!Leon x fem!reader
🎄21 December
Period Sex || Puppy!Leon x fem!reader
🎄 22 December
ao3 rex - Twist My Words || Professor!Leon x fem!reader
🎄23 December
Have To Be Quiet/Not Get Caught || Stepdad!Leon x fem!reader
🎄 24 December
ao3 rex - ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas || Ex Husband!Leon x fem!reader
Puppy Leon being knotted in you, so overstimulated and in subspace and he just keeps humping you and letting more cum out and finally instead of more cum he just instinctively starts to piss, but when he realizes he is effectively pissing in you, he gets so ashamed and whiney and he tries to pull out and stop but his knot is keeping you together and he’s so upset but also he likes it so much so his over sensitive puppy cock is twitching inside you and he wants to hump again but also wants to go hide forever and keep his untrustworthy puppy cock away from you because what pup accidentally pisses in his owner?
-🐶
🐶 anon, I’ve been hoarding your ask cause my brain is all 😵💫 😵💫
Why is that traitorously hot 😩 🤭
He’s whimpering and crying and apologizing but it doesn’t stop his hips from humping against yours, cock stiff and hard even though he’s so so embarrassed
18+ Drabble 🤭 👇 piss kink warning
“Oh, oh no,” he rears back but his rutting slows to a halt as he groans, “I’m gonna— mommy, I’m gonna— I need to pull out but I can’t—“
His eyes roll back as he grinds his knot even deeper into your clenching hole. You feel a hot wetness suffusing your pussy walls, too much to be cum.
“Leon are you,” your eyes go wide, helpless to the disgusting throb of arousal you feel at the thought, “are you pissing?”
“‘M sorry Miss Owner,” he pants, eyes helplessly drawn to where his knot keeps you locked together, “I can’t— feels so good, so warm inside you, ‘m sorry. It’s so wet around my cock, I-I think I’m g’nna cum again.”
With a low groan, he presses tightly against you, tongue licking your lips and chin messily as you feel another hot pulse deep in your pussy.
“You’re so full of me, mommy,” he whimpers, tongue dipping into your parted lips, “‘m sorry, but it just feels too good that I can’t stop.”
summary: Resigned to the long-distance nature of your relationship, Leon gifts you an app-controlled vibrator to use during his time away.
warnings: 18+!!! vibrators used discreetly in public, exhibitionism (idk if it fully applies but. to be safe), edging/orgasm denial, humiliation kink, explicit mentions of consent, phone sex, oral sex (m receiving), ro takes a light-hearted concept and brings feelings into it yet again
notes: after a solid month, @glacierclear raised me from my writing grave with this post and i absolutely knew i had to write something for it hehe
Leon, retroactive man that he is, loves to solve problems. Act first, think later.
You both share in bone-rending loneliness during his weeks-long absences from home, and it’s one problem he’s never been able to fix with all the brute force and secret agent skill under his belt. Until he texts one day, says he’s finally found a solution to the problem (the problem being feelings and longing and all the visceral build-up that he’d rather scrape off with a filet knife, like carving out the innards of a rotted fish).
An app-controlled vibrator created specifically for long-distance couples. God fucking bless technology.
You open the link he sent to an adult toy website and are greeted with a professional looking page and a picture showcasing a u-shaped vibrator, perfect for g-spot and clitoral stimulation. We-Vibe: a very on-the-nose name for such a product.
It’s perfect.
In a sickly-sweet way, you’ll know he’s still alive when the humming begins. When the texts come in to play your little game.
It’s ordered then delivered within ten days. A cute little thing, soft as silk, fits snug inside you. After a bit of set-up, you try the thing out and gush to him about its deceptive power. Rules are laid out and a secret phrase is decided upon for when either of you are in the mood to use it: wanna play?
Excitement—yeah, that’s an understatement.
~
You take back everything you said. Leon is an asshole and you hate this fucking vibrator.
He knows your body well enough to anticipate when your orgasm nears, even halfway across the world, and the setting he refuses to change leaves you teetering between too much and not enough. Overwhelm against your g-spot, but too little stimulation against your clit to send you just that little bit over the edge. And when you do get close, so close your teeth grit and your belly tenses and an electric balm washes over you, the vibrator shuts off. Muscles relax, your breathing evens, but anger—hot white, blinding, not unlike the precipice he robbed you of—leaves you grimacing and teary-eyed.
Even worse: you can only cum from the vibrator. One of his little rules that you agreed to in starry-eyed excitement. You should’ve known. Leon loves his unfair, sadistic rules.
But it gets even worse. Or better, depending on how you look at it. Whether you prefer optimism or pessimism for the day.
What began as a nightly, at-home routine transitioned into wearing it outside the comfort of your bedroom (or couch, or bathtub, or dining table). Before your first visit to the store since owning the cursed thing, he texts you. Offers up a suggestion and the mere thought—wetting the seat of your underwear while strangers pass by unawares, while you try to complete a normally mundane task as he leads you across the razor-wire of pleasure—burns something hot and needy deep in the pit of your stomach. Makes you wish you could finish yourself off, start over with a clean slate, it’s only been a week and you’re already sharpened teeth and grinding nerves and stiff in the neck—
So you agree. Of course. Why wouldn’t you?
Another thing about Leon: he’s smug. Rubs his unbotheredness in your face, in his tone when he calls, the things he says through text.
He’s halfway across the world, dressed to the nines for some work meeting, and your chest might cave due to the rapid beat of your heart as you walk through the aisles. And he doesn’t care. Little more than a puppet master amused by his own creation.
You just hope he doesn’t decide to lift his teasing today. Couldn’t take the embarrassment because you tread over the line of exhibitionism yet an orgasm in public is not a boundary you wish to cross. But you know him. He cradles many things close to his chest, keeps private things private. You received the same treatment in the beginning, sustained yourself on breadcrumbs of basic information universally viewed as inconsequential. But not to him.
So why, then, would he risk sharing you with the world? With anyone else?
Besides, he promised you. Just a simple text (flashlight, you decided) and this stops.
The thought comforts you, and the anticipation of biting back noises and locking your knees and feigning your expressions to keep your secret gets to you a lot more than it should. It’s all about anticipation, you realize. That’s what the butterflies in your stomach represent:
When?
Thirty minutes into your trip and three ingredients marked off your list, while reading dates on the milk, your insides clench around the sudden start of vibration. The lowest setting that blisters your blood, that almost doubles you over and leaves you gripping the shelf. Not enough but still so fucking good, like scratching a week-long itch, a mosquito bite that you know will keep itching and itching until you soothe it with a cream (in this scenario, the cream is, well—).
A pricing label slides sideways beneath your palm, almost bending in half when the thrum increases in severity, and you inhale deep to steady your breathing. You turn to find the aisle barren of customers, and relief floods through you. So does something else, something heady and thick that pools then coils between your legs. Your insides clench around the toy, then the rhythmic pulse of a second heartbeat. The nape of your neck burns with heat, licking up the back of your skull.
This is humiliating. It’s humiliating and you fucking love it. Should you love it this much?
You receive your answer while searching for the brand of bread he prefers. A swell of vibration against your clit makes you bite back a gasp. Your eyes shut against the slick glide, body-warm silicone fitting perfect against swollen flesh between the cross of your legs.
Bread. Bread. What kind of bread does he like again? The bag is red, you think. Maybe blue?
Never mind that—the buzzing increases, leaves you lowering onto your haunches before the array of powdered donuts on the bottom shelf. Every atom in your body strains to keep you from reaching between your legs, shoving a hand in your underwear, and either ripping the vibrator out to stop the wonderful, soul-squeezing torture or finishing yourself off right in the goddamn bread aisle.
But you don’t. Instead, you squeeze your legs together and steady yourself with a hand on the cool metal of the shelf, face dug into the arm of your sweatshirt.
“Goddamn it, Leon.”
Then everything stops, and you wait one, five, ten minutes for the humming to return. It never does. You continue shopping in silence, peace, each step sparking static against the slick mess of your clit, swollen and sensitive.
The cashier smiles at you and you hate yourself a bit. Something fierce and toothy burns the nape of your neck:
Humiliation, yes, that’s the word.
He messages you two hours later, once the groceries have been tucked away and you recline on the couch for a long-awaited nap:
Sorry. Had business to take care of.
You swear you see his grin through the screen.
~
So. You don’t wish to do that again.
No, that’s a lie. Something you tell yourself to feel better because you should not have liked it as much as you did. And you did. It’s all you can think about as you clean the house and go to work and shower and sit in your car on the way home.
Which is where you currently find yourself. Stuck in a line of cars miles long, something about an accident two hours out from re-opening your current route. On top of normal quick time work traffic, you’re set to be here a while.
It’s a stupid idea—you play with fire, bring the torture on yourself—but you pull out your phone despite the blaring inside your brain and send the text that seals your fate:
Wanna play?
He responds almost immediately, praises your perfect timing because today’s been horrible and he sits at the hotel all alone and… well, he doesn’t say it, but frustration is better shared with someone else. You, specifically.
He calls you this time, voice weak as snuffed-fire woodsmoke. Grumbly, muffled, face half-buried in his pillow. You’re quick to find your vibrator (stuffed to the very bottom of your bag), discreet in the way you slide it beneath pants and underwear. The silicone glides cool and soft inside you, flexible enough to curl against your g-spot.
“Okay—“ Before you finish your sentence, the vibration begins, leaves you crossing your legs at the knee, bumping into the steering wheel.
“How’s your day been?” he asks, fabric rustling in your ear.
“Awful,” you say, slightly breathless, head slumped against the seat.
If you close your eyes, you focus far too much on the wet warm wonderful sensations, so you stare ahead at the car before you, tail lights blaring stop-sign red as the sun begins to set. On your left, the lone occupant slouches in the driver’s seat, elbow balanced on the console (god, if only this stranger knew what you were doing just a few feet over). To your right sits a parking lot belonging to some new restaurant you can’t remember the name of.
“That makes two of us.”
Amidst the subsequent silence, he fiddles with the settings. Maxes out the vibration until your hips arch off the seat, until you hear the low thrum beneath two layers of clothing, until you gasp out in the muted silence of your car before he shuts it off completely. Over and over again, until you’re gripping the console and catching your breath.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
He takes a moment to answer, exhales in a half-muffled laugh. “Playing.”
“You’re evil.”
“And you’re rude.” His voice lowers to an almost rumble within the cavernous depths of his chest. “Let me hear you.”
Fuck him.
You know that sigh he gives you, a little rickety at the edges, and the distant, wet sound of his hand on his cock.
Oh. Oh god.
“Fuck, are you… ?”
It’s something you’ve never done before. You’ve breached the topic on occasion because of course he masturbates while he’s gone and of course he thinks of you, but maybe this has all fucked him up, too. This newfound control of your orgasm—maybe the only thing he can control in his life.
Your forehead thumps against the steering wheel as your insides flutter around the toy. Too small, too inorganic, miss his heat his tongue the taste of his skin him him him—
If you think too hard, you can taste him at the back of your throat, salt-slick and musky. It makes you dizzy.
He hums his assent, sucks a breath through grit teeth as the noises grow louder. “Rules don’t apply to me, remember?”
If you could speak at this point, you would aim every insult in your arsenal at his head. But language transcends words right about now. Can’t think of much else besides the familiarity of his sounds, reminiscent of the slick sheath of your cunt, the rhythmic way he fucks into you.
You know—god, you know—that he envisions the brain-burned memory as well.
“I miss you,” said on the tail end of a whine, pitiful and tender, bone-deep longing a fresh bruise upon your skin. A re-opened wound.
“Me too,” he says, more breath than syllable, and you know what comes next. The expectation sets your teeth on edge.
He relieves the static coil of your muscles as you relax into the electric tingle against your clit, huffing out a low moan. You find yourself at a breaking point, all cragged edges and hairline fractures. In the car beside you, the driver sits slumped against the window, each slow breath fogging up the glass. Asleep.
Nothing stopping you now.
“More.” He falls silent on the other end of the line, maybe holding his breath as the sounds grow louder. “Please, Leon?”
That’s all it takes. He curses under his breath, sighs out your name, and you can see him plain as day: face and neck sweatslick, brows twisted into a furrow, lips parted. Cumming milky stripes over the trail of hair on his belly. God, he’ll make a mess of himself—something you ache to see in person again.
The vibrator shuts off. You almost sob in mourning.
“I’ll be home Saturday,” he says, a salve for licked-raw wounds.
Saturday. Four days from now.
You can wait. You have to.
The drive home is spent in silence.
~
He perches on the edge of the bed, phone in one hand (the app’s interface mocks you, glares bright from the corner of your vision) and the back of your head cradled in the other, your naked body seated between the inviting spread of his legs. He shudders against the licking kiss you press to the underside of his cock, lips framing the thick vein that thrums warm and heavy beneath your touch.
You missed him, a cavernous yearning as carnal and animalistic as instinct itself. The Leon that bleeds through messages could never compare to flesh and blood, to the lilt of his voice, to the witness of a sudden grin that stretches wide across his face. To eyes that crinkle at the edges, a gut-deep fire built from tinder and stone visible in the low-light blue of his irises.
Your mouth drops open as the unyielding vibration finally begins, simmers heat at the apex of your thighs. A roaring fire immune to snuffing, gasoline-fed, led to destruction by the app on Leon’s phone. Highest setting, no fucking doubt.
“I can be nice, you know,” he says, syllables lengthy and teasing.
All he knows to do is tease, you think. With words, touches, and even now, he has you on your knees with his dick in your mouth and that still isn’t enough to break him. You smooth tightened fingers over the flesh of his thighs, a brittle moan muffled around the salt-musk taste of him. A hand curls over the back of your head, threatens to press, coax, but he stops himself with a heavy sigh, massages blunt nails over your scalp. Begs, instead: deeper, more, please.
He never forces you, something bare-minimum in the way you love that about him. He takes as good as he gives, swallows his pride when required, and you think a large part of him loves the play. The cat and mouse, push-and-pull of your relationship.
You pull away with an open mouth, eyes squeezed shut, a string of spit roped between your bottom lip and the head of his cock. Thinking is difficult, one misfired synapse away from impossible, but you know that you can’t give him what he wants. Not after the month of teeth-gnashed edging he’s put you through.
He exhales through flared nostrils, a lick of frustration etching in the sharp knit of his brow. But he says nothing, spreads his legs a little wider when you rest a cheek upon his inner thigh, hair sparse and fuzzy against your skin.
Then an inevitability, an unstoppable force tightens full-body muscles before you cum hard and sudden from where you kneel on the floor. So powerful you sob on each exhale, speckled static popping across the expanse of blackhole vision. Faintly, he mutters nonsense, huffed-out words of praise (there you go, so good for me, look so pretty like this), and you watch the slick glide of a milking fist around his cock—yours, you realize.
Too much in an instant, atom-rending pleasure to knife-tipped pain, but just as your lips part to voice discomfort, everything stops. You sag against him as his phone drops to the comforter, jumps just enough to slide off the bed with a dull clatter. Neither of you move to fetch it, face down by your knee as it lay.
“That wasn’t part of the plan,” he says, leans forward, cups your cheeks to lift your face for a kiss. Almost bruising in his fervor, rough as he nicks your lower lip with the blunt edge of his front teeth, wet when you open your mouth for him and his tongue drools over yours.
You part from him long enough to gasp out a laugh, fist continuing its slick twist over the length of his cock. “You had a plan?”
He struggles to reply, choking on a breath, a laugh of his own, “More like an idea.”
He kisses you again, all languid heat and roaming hands, and your insides clench around the toy, slick pooling on the floor between your knees. Need him to fuck you, can already imagine the stretch, the fill, the sticky mess of his cum—
As if omnipotent, Leon takes you by the arms and hauls you to your feet, coaxing you to sit on his lap with large hands splayed around the back of your thighs, pressure insistent. Needy as you.
Good. Good.
You smile. “What, you think it’s gonna be that easy?”
Against your own hunger, your baser instincts, you stay put. The gaze once focused on the glistening skin between your thighs, framing the soft curve of the vibrator still inside you, now darts up to your face. Surprise foundational to reverence, a cliff-edged gleam in his eyes, and his fingers dimple your skin.
You card a hand through dark blond hair, soft as silk, freshly washed. He leans into your touch, eyes closing, and something swells against your ribs. Hurts in the best way.
Love. It’s love, all-consuming, infinite, painful at its most potent. What a beautiful thing, to love so deeply your brain short-circuits, your breath struggles to empty, your bones creak and ache beneath the weight of it.
You aren’t sure why or when you begin to cry, but your body sags beneath the weight of it, and he’s there—always, always there—to keep you upright, hands tight around your waist. It feels like home, everything: the salt of his skin, the remnant smell of his body wash, the callouses stamped into his fingertips.
It’s love. Unfair, indecipherable, hard-wired into each insignificant atom of the universe. He’s real, tangible, here. Someone for you to sink your teeth into, to flay open (leave him as raw as he makes you feel), to worship.
When you were younger, you craved this kind of love. The transcendence of universes, lifetimes, death itself. A silly thing to wish for, catalyzed by one too many romance novels read same-day in middle school.
But you think you’ve found it.
“Gonna take this out now,” he whispers, breath a warm puff against your cheek, and the ghost of his fingers against your labia leaves you sighing into his neck.
He’s gentle, so gentle as he slides the toy out, as he pulls you into his lap and you steady yourself with a hand on each of his bare shoulders. A new spatter of freckles dust the skin, a new mole kissing his collarbone. He’s been somewhere with a bright sun, hopefully a beautiful ocean to swim in. Maybe you stared up at the same moon, found connection through the pull of the tides.
The whiskers of his beard rasp against the curve of your neck as you sink down onto him in one smooth glide, insides tender and gummy and impossibly wet. He laves sucking kisses down the thrum of your pulse, pulls you close with a hand at the base of your spine. If possible, you would’ve melded together long ago, lived within each other, shared heartbeat and breath and blood.
The teasing, the phone sex, the messages at three in the morning—they’re all great. An unfortunate requirement of long distance that you survive on. But nothing will ever, can never be better than this. The real thing.
For the next two weeks, the We-Vibe is repackaged then left at the bottom of your underwear drawer.
A few nights after he leaves, around two-thirty in the morning, your phone dings with a text message:
cw: incest, breeding, somno, r^pe mentions, mocking, degradation, praise, ddlg, daddy kink, oral (both), blood mention, overstimulating, absolute NYYASTYYY dirty talk, n like more if u um click the last link. ALL OF THIS UNDER THE CUT, SO DONT WHINE @ ME IF U DONT LIKE IT.. mkay?
im also putting my favs first soo yes ! :p enjoyyy !
Jealous big brother audio!
Possessive big brother somno breeding audio!
Rly mean co-worker fuck buddy audio!
Sharing a bed with sleepy big brother audio!
Him rambling while taking care of his issue ;P
Ddlg and first time audio!
Daddy fills you and takes care of you audio!
Brother's friend audio!
Major cw for this one lel (so nobody gets their panties ina twist): Stalker ghost face kidnaps you and makes you his pornstar audio!
And here's a link to see all his audios 0_0 !!
n um lmk if u have any audios 4 fic ideas or if it sounds like leon or something he would say or do ... a girl is always open 2 listen
Hi kittens, mommy’s had a rough one and that’s why it’s been since October since I published anything lol. My now-ex boyfriend broke up with me and it thrust me head first into my man-hating era and I couldn’t write to save my life. I’m not happy with this fic but I had to publish SOMETHING bc it’s been rotting in my WIP folder forever. Enjoy, my stinkies 🩷
WARNINGS: p in v sex, perv!Leon, unprotected sex, mentions of male masturbation, a lil bit of footjob action/very light CBT, Leon is a two pump chump I’m sorry, creampie as always, uhhh you degrade him and stuff but he’s Leon so he gets off to that, idk RE2R Leon strikes me as a panty thief who would get off on being told he’s a pervert so that’s what I wrote lol
Word count: 3k words of Leon being a perv
“Leon?” you called.
“Yes?”
“Why do you have my fucking panties?”
Movie night with Leon was always unnecessarily complicated. It very nearly felt like it took him hours to get settled; he needed the right snacks for the two of you, the right drinks, the right comfy clothes, the right movie. If he put much more effort into every movie night, it would start to feel like a date. Not that he’d mind that.
You, however, seemed like you would mind. He had tried like hell to hint to you that he wanted something more than friendship; brushing his hand against yours whenever he could, resting his hand at the small of your back in a manner that was much more than friendly, letting his gazes linger a bit longer than they needed to. But you? Dear, distant, unmovable you? Never once reciprocated his affections. Leon was desperate for you.
That’s why the movie nights came about; they were the closest Leon could get to a date night, and by God did he push the envelope. He’d spend every movie night with an arm around your shoulder, both of you under the same blanket. He’d behave himself, keep his hand a where they belonged, but all the while he’d have to try like hell to conceal the hard-on he’d be sporting every time. He felt pathetic, jerking off to the thought of you every night after you’d leave. That’s when he started stealing your panties.
It started out with just one pair he’d seen discarded on top of your hamper in your room, too careless to hide it before he came over. He’d snuck them into his pocket, vowing to himself they he would return them the next time he was at your place. Only he didn’t return them, and he did do it again.
He jumped at every chance to spend time at your place instead of his, sneaking another pair from you nearly every time. You had to be wondering where they kept going, but as long as his operation was still going off without a hitch, he was going to keep stealing them.
Then came the hitch.
You had come over for the aforementioned movie night, barging in after work without knocking like you owned the place, not that Leon minded.
“Lee!” You whined, “It’s cold out! How come you have to live so far from where I work?” You continued your lament as you kicked off your shoes by the door and walked further into the apartment toward the kitchen. Leon poked his head out from the doorway, pointing to his bedroom door.
“Go grab one of my hoodies or something if you’re cold, I’m making popcorn, so help yourself!” He busied himself with the popcorn once again as he heard you turn and walk toward his room, thanking him as you walked away.
“Leon?” you called.
“Yes?”
“Why do you have my fucking panties?”
His heart immediately dropped into his stomach, remembering just how many pairs of your used panties were tucked away in his drawer. The volume and variety would have been impressive if he didn’t feel downright creepy.
He slunk towards his room like a child expecting to be scolded, and his face reddened when he stepped into the doorway. You had your arms crossed, one of his favorite pairs of your panties dangling from one finger
It was a little baby-pink number; cotton, his favorite, with delicate lace around waistband that he couldn’t get enough of. Memories flashed through his head of just what perverted things he’d done with the scraps of cloth spilling out of the drawer you’d apparently yanked open.
He loved to jerk off with them wrapped around his cock, eyes closed and head falling back, sometimes with another pair pressed to his nose to inhale your scent. The worst thing he did, however, embarrassed even him; he loved to jerk off directly into the crotch of your panties, imagining that the reason they were covered in his cum was because it had spilled out of you. This was his favorite of all of his dirty fantasies about you, and imagining that the panties in his hand were soiled because you’d finally let him fuck you would often make him have to touch himself a second time.
“I saw these sticking out of your drawer, and I thought they looked familiar,” you said flatly.
He forced himself to return to the present at your words, fidgeting a bit to try to hide the half-chub that refused to go down even in the face of such profound shame. You cocked an eyebrow, looking all too relaxed given the situation the two of you were in.
“I asked you a question, Leon,” you reminded him. “Why do you have so many pairs of my panties? And I know theyre mine, don’t try to tell me they aren’t,’ you added, effectively crushing to death the only chance at redemption he thought he might have.
“Um, well. . .” He trailed off immediately, completely unable to tear his eyes away from the panties swinging from your hand, not sure how he was going to get out of this one. “I don’t- I. . . It’s beacuse-“
“I know why you have them,” you cut him off, his eyes finally snapping up to meet yours before the embarrassment made him duck away again. “It’s because youre a fucking pervert.”
His heart dropped; this was it. You were disgusted with him, you were going to leave his apartment and never come back, you were going to tell everyone you knew that he was a disgusting panty thief, never to be trusted. However, there was no hiding the full-blown hard-on he was now sporting, thanks to the insult. His face reddened more, if that was even possible. Your eyes flicked down to his crotch, and the scowl you’d been wearing slowly turned into a smirk.
“I’m so sorry, I-“ he began, but you cut him off yet again.
“You’re not sorry you did it,” you salked toward him. “You’re sorry you got caught.’ You were right on the money, as usual, but before Leon could even try to get a word in edgewise, you spoke again. “I think you need to be punished.”
What?
His confusion must have been clear on his face, because you continued.
“What, cat got your tongue?” You teased. “Take your pants off, Leon,” you said. It very obviously wasnt a request.
This felt like a trap to Leon, but he figured things couldn’t get any worse, and so help him he was going to do whatever you asked of him in the hopes it might smooth things over. He cleared his throat, reaching for the drawstring of his sweatpants as you began to slowly circle around him. He felt very much like a cornered animal.
“O-okay,” he finally spoke, albeit haltingly as he slowly pulled at the tie on his pants.
“Tell me, Lee, what have you been doing with all the panties you’ve been stealing, hm? Be specific. And hurry up with your pants, I don’t like waiting when im already impatient.”
God, what were you going to do to him? He tried like hell not to very his hopes up, but he hoped to God this was going to end well for him.
“W-well,” he began, sliding his pants off as he spoke, nervous but still eager to find out what was going to happen next. “I mean, I jack off with them. . .” He trailed off, clearly not wanting to be any more forthcoming than that. He chanced a look at your face again, hoping what little he told you was sufficient, but of course not.
“Tell me more, Lee. And look at me when you do it,” you added. He swallowed hard, fighting to keep his eyes on you while he spoke.
“I wrap them around. . . Around my cock and I, well, I jack off with them, ‘nd then I. . .” He trailed off yet again, cheeks burning bright red, afraid to try your patience but far too embarrassed to get it all out at once. He took a deep breath. “And I like to. . . To finish in the crotch,’ he finally finished.
“Why?” You asked simply. He wasnt prepared to answer that one. He cleared his throat again, and mumbled something, turning away. “Come again?” You asked. He huffed out a breath and looked back up at you, tears very nearly welling up in his eyes from the humiliation but still hard as a rock.
“I said I like to imagine theyre filled with my cum because you put them back on after I fucked you!” He nearly yelled, frustrated with the interrogation. A few embarrassed tears he hadn’t even noticed finally spilled from his eyes and he wiped them away roughly with his sleeve, knowing he had no right to cry.
“I figured,” you replied flatly. How were you staying so calm about this? You’d just found out your best friend had been stealing your panties for the past few months! Leon opened his mouth to ask you just this, but you moved lighting-quick, stuffing the panties into his open mouth and covering it with your hand, swatting away hips hands when he instinctively reached up to push you away.
Holy shit. You just stuffed your panties in his mouth.
“Kneel,” you told him, and his knees were on the floor without a second’s hesitation, placing his hands down on the tops of his thighs. You walked around him, adding the instruction to be careful not to spit them out, and he could hear you once again digging around in the drawer behind him. you gasped behind him, reaching out from behind him to range another pair inches from his nose before snatching it back.
“Leon, these are my favorite!” You cried indignantly. “I’ve been looking for them forever, you pervert,’ you added. God, there was that word again. It absolutely shouldn’t have made his cock twitch in his boxers, but it did anyway. “Hands behind your back,” you instructed him, and he obeyed, wondering what you had in mind. His eyes widened when he felt you twist that second pair of panties around his wrists, essentially improvising a pair of handcuffs. You walked around him again to stand in front of him, and he looked up at you expectantly, tears long-dried. “Try not to rip those, I like them,” you said simply, before sitting on his bed and pressing your socked foot to his crotch without another warning.
He cried out as best he could with a mouthful of your panties, nearly doubling over from the sensation. You were pressing harder than should have been pleasurable, but between how wound up you had him and how long he’d wanted you to touch his cock, he was still in heaven. As you slid your foot up his cock, he wished with everything in him that he didn’t still have his boxers on; that he could feel the friction and not just the pressure, delicious as it was. You leaned back, surveying your work, all the while still working your foot up and down his cock.
“You like that, Leon?” You teased, propped up on your hands. Of course he liked that. Of course you knew he liked that, but how could you not tease him like this?
Your curled your toes gently over the head of his cock, squeezing a bit with your toes. He was sensitive, so fucking sensitive, and he bucked up into your touch with another muffled cry.
“Ah-ah,” you admonished him. “I didn’t say you could move.”
Leon whined again at this, worried you were going to stop touching him, but far too afraid of that prospect to do anything about it.
Instead of withdrawing your foot Ike he expected, you pressed the ball of your foot against his cock, hard. You meant this as a punishment, of course, but poor Leon was so very on edge that he came in his boxers, shaking as he dampened the crotch of them along with your foot.
“Leon. . .” You sighed with a deep frown, one that would have made his heart clench had all his blood not been allocated elsewhere. “You really are a pervert,” you scolded. God, there was that word again. Leon knew at this point that this was all a game, but he couldn’t help the way that word made him feel. Pathetic. Dirty. Unbelievably horny.
You stood, looming over him as he looked up at you with wide eyes.
“I was worried about the rest of my plans for you, but it looks like youre still hard,” you remarked, nudging his overly sensitive cock with your foot and pulling a surprised yelp from him. To his shock, you unbuttoned your pants and slid them off along with your panties all in one go. The way his eyes flicked over to the panties you discarded to the side wasnt lost on you.
“Don’t be greedy, Leon. You have more than enough,” you teased. You knelt on the ground in front of him, pushing against his chest and knocking him off balance to sit flat on the floor with his back to his dresser, hands still bound behind him with your panties. You straddled him, hovering over his cock so close that he could feel the heat and wetness of your pussy. He didn’t dare move after what happened last time.
You decided to grant him just a little relief, using your hand to slide his cock shallowly through your folds, Upand down, up and down. His head hit the dresser behind him with a thunk, a deep groan tearing itself from his throat. Then finally, fucking finally, you slid down onto his cock, taking him to the hilt.
He tore his eyes away from the ceiling, and they nearly popped out of his head as he took in the sight in front of him. His cock had completely disappeared inside of you, your clit resting against his pelvis. He was mesmerized for just a moment before you lifted your hips and slammed them back down, earning another muffled shout from him as his head hit the dresser again.
You began a brutal pace right off the bat, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with your moans; yours were completely unbridled, his were still dampened by the panties he absolutely wasnt spitting out.
You reached up to place a hand against his cheek, patting it softly before pulling your hand back and delivering an earnest slap. It took him by surprise and he bucked into you again, but you seemed to let that transgression slide. You squeezed his cheeks with one hand, forcing him to look at you.
“Fucking disgusting, Leon. I should spit in your face for stealing and doing such nasty shit with my things,” you said through gritted teeth, hips still rolling against him. God, he was going to cum way too soon again. Sweat rolled down the side of his face with the effort he was exerting trying to hold off his orgasm.
“‘M gonna cum,” you moaned, and it was like he saw the light at the end of the tunnel. “You wanna cum in me Leon? You wanna fill me up with your cum? Of course you do, you fucking sicko,” and Leon knew he had just seconds.
Finally, with a last, particularly strong roll of your hips, you came. As your pussy pulsed around him, Leon came as well, filling you with his cum and thrusting up into you in earnest now, though he was too fucked-out to notice and correct himself.
As soon as your breathing evened a bit, you stood abruptly, the friction against Leon’s softening cock startling him along with the overstimulation. You hooked the panties in his mouth with your finger to yank them out and he choked a bit, his mouth dry. He was speechless as you shook out the slightly damp panties and slid them on with a snap of the waistband.
You bent over in front of him, showing him that the thin gusset of the panties was wet enough with his spit that it had gone slightly translucent. He could see your pussy lips through the wet fabric, and nearly passed out when he watched the wet patch spread as his cum began to spill out of you and onto the panties, just like he’d jacked off to so many times. If he wasn’t so mindful of not wanting to rip the panties that were still wrapped around his wrists, he probably would have pulled you toward him to fill you up with even more of his cum.
You walked around behind him to untangle him and free his arms. As soon as you did though, his hair stood on end remembering what he’d been caught with earlier. He whirled around, still on his knees to look up at you with big, pleading blue eyes.
“I’m so, so sorry, I know it’s gross that I was taking your panties-“
“Leon,” you interrupted him. “Why do you think my used panties were always on the top of my hamper? No girl would leave her panties visible like that if she knows someone is coming over. I wanted you to find them.” You turned and walked out toward the kitchen before turning back to him and seeing his jaw practically on the ground again. “You might wanna check on your popcorn, Lee.”
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: vampire!leon, light facefucking, some gagging, dacryphilia, praise, gentle (?) choking, overstimulation, cock-drunk, Leon’s venom gets you horny, your blood makes his body warmer for periods of time, Leon is a slight tease, some cock warming, light begging, mating press, some riding, biting, blood sucking, pain kink
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: crumbs of Leon 🙇🏽♀️
Oreo: for my Leon fuckers, the silver hair gives me vampire vibes, Imma blame another silver-haired vampire by a different name
Leon holds your head down bucking his hips choking you with his cock. He groans as your throat squeezes his cock. “I wonder what you were dreaming my love.” Tilting his head back against the headboard. Softly groaning loosing his grasp on your hair.
Letting you glide his cock out to catch your breathe. Sloppily kissing underneath his head. “Waking up in such a manner.” He looks down at you with a gentle loving smile.
You kiss his balls, “Darling you’re getting cold bite me.” He let’s your hair go to cup your cheek. Grabbing your hip when you straddle him, grinding his cock against your warm cunt.
You softly shiver, his cold cock pleasure despite the chill. Leaning forward grabbing Leon’s thick pec. Moaning when the ridge of his cock head rubs your soft clit with the perfect pressure.
You beg, “Please bite me, I love feeling your fangs, the venom, knowing I’m keeping you warm while helping you feel good.” Tilting your head to the side showing your bitten neck.
Leon softly squeezes your throat, reminding you, “Tap my wrist if it’s too much.” He tugs you closer lifting you off his cock. Dipping his head down to bite above your nipple. Softly sucking flicking your nipple in between swallowing your blood as it fills his mouth.
Moaning from the sweet pain, slipping your fingers into Leon’s soft hair brushing it back. You reach down to grab his cock holding him up. Pushing your hips back gliding his thick cockhead into your wet cunt.
Leon bites his lip stifling his groans. “I love hearing her squelch, it’s like she’s talking to me.” You moan from the sweet pleasure of how he stretches your soft cunt. Leon pulls away, whining letting your neck go to grab your other hip holding you still.
You croon, “She’s begging for you to fuck her.” Clenching Leon’s hard cock trying to tempt him into moving. He bites your other soft tit, softly playing with your nipple.
A soft tingling warmth spreads through your body. Sparking an intense heat between your legs. He groans as your cunt spams around him pulsing in reaction to his venom.
He swipes your blood off his lips sucking it off his thumb. Loosening his firm grasp on your hips, guiding slowly on his cock. Your slick dripping down his balls.
He groans, “You are so warm, soft, wet and taste so delicious.” Grabbing your ass, fucking his hard cock into you. Rubbing your sweet spot with his cock head, his venom increases your body's sensitivity.
“Fuck!” You can’t think of anything other than how his cock feels stuffing your sloppy wet cunt. Resting on his chest, craving feeling Leon’s perfectly sculpted body on your’s. Biting his thick pec, he groans grabbing your hips, rolling you onto your back.
Wrapping your arms around Leon’s neck, slipping your fingers into his soft white hair. He grabs your soft thighs pinning you into a mating press. He groans, “I love taking care of your soft cunt.” Leaning down to kiss you when you let his pec go.
Leon keeps his pace steady getting you closer to cumming. “I should fuck you back to sleep. It is 3 am, you don't need to be cranky later.” He lifts up to admire your face, slipping his hand between to stroke your clit with his thumb.
“Your face looks so beautiful when you cum.” You can't respond, only able to focus on the soft texture of his skin rubbing the inside of your cunt.
He’s inside you, warm, thick and throbbing inside of you. Each stroke getting him closer to cumming. You plead “Want your cum!” Whining gushing on his hard cock, your cunt squelching louder, your thick slick soaking into the bed.
Smiling when Leon kisses your forehead. “Is my cock and cum all you can think about princess?”
For smut week I know we all love the mind blowing leg shaking stuff but I feel like Leon’s the type of guy to do some goofy shit. Imagine reader and Leon just annoying each other or doing something stupid while doing the do because they love each other so much. I have this vivid image of like. Lazy morning sex and Leon reaches over to get a sip of coffee while literally pounding away and then he gets yelled at by reader because that’s NOT what you do! God he is so fucking stupid I love him
this made my heart explode so i just wrote down a bunch of moments instead of one single ficlet. (ive had this in my drafts for a week its time to release him)
18+ only
I.
The hazy warmth of sleep blankets you, and Leon’s already handsy. He slips fingers beneath your shirt, trails them over the curve of your belly, teases the line of your sleep shorts. Yes. Yes, please.
You’re cognizant enough to reach for the lube on the nightstand. He’s leaving this morning, won’t be back for weeks—gotta skip a few steps.
He fucks you like he’ll miss you. Rolls you onto your stomach, spreads the cheeks of your ass, and slides in. Slick and tight and—
His cellphone rings. You twist your head to glare at him, a silent threat in the narrowing of your eyes. Do not. Do not, Leon—
“Kennedy speaking.”
You stuff your face into the pillow when he sharpens his thrusts, curls a hand around your hip to keep you still. The voice on the line comes through muffled and low, but you can’t make out any words. Trying too hard to keep quiet, and this seems a game to him. How far can he go, how good can he fuck you before you crack.
“Right. Right… of course, sir.”
Heat coils in your gut, quickens your breath, and the position of your body and his hips force him right up against sensitive nerves. Fuck. Fuck, he’s got you right where he wants you.
“Yes. I’ll be there.”
You whine into the pillow, chew on the fabric to silence your noises, until he says goodbye and slides both hands up to your shoulder blades, pressing you into the bed.
“Sorry about that.” Only now does he allow his voice to shake, his breathing to heavy. “A change of plans.”
You can barely focus with his hips slapping against your ass, the noisy glide of his cock making you clench around him. Can barely rub two braincells together, being fucked like this. “Fuck—what was it?”
“You get to keep me another day, I’m afraid.”
That pulls a laugh from you, and he digs his face into your shoulder, curls a hand around your waist, presses a kiss to the pulse of your neck.
“God, how horrible.”
II.
Set the scene: he’s bent you over the kitchen island, ten minutes in from a date. Has you stripped from the waist down, hips pressed up against the lip of the counter, pounds you until your body jolts.
You spot the takeout cup filled halfway with your post-dinner milkshake. You’re thirsty from all the moaning, and it’s probably melting. Why wouldn’t you reach for it? Take a little sip?
But he acts like you’ve committed a crime. Stops in his tracks, bottoms out inside you and says, “What are you doing?”
“I’m thirsty.”
“You’re gonna cut your mouth on the straw.”
“Then go slower.” You glance back at him, lips bitten between your teeth to keep a smile at bay, and the purse of his lips ruins the effect of his glare. “Want some?”
He exhales a sigh but takes the cup anyway, and you turn back around to balance against the countertop when his thrusts continue, deep and heavy and slick, and you reach between your legs to caress and massage and stroke—so close—a little more—
He slurps through the straw, and you think he’ll stop once he realizes, but he doesn’t. He keeps going, and you lose focus, the edge of your orgasm.
“Leon.”
“What?”
“Can you stop?” You turn to glare at him, and he hands your milkshake back to you. Completely empty. “Seriously?”
“You distracted me,” he says, a little breathless, red-faced, and you can’t stay mad at him. Not when he slips a hand between your legs and leans forward to suckle a spot on your shoulder, mouth ice cold from the milkshake. “I’ll make it up to you.”
III.
“Leon! Stop tickling my feet!”
“I can’t help it. They’re right here.”
Oh, yeah. What a fantastic idea. Reverse cowgirl, a new position, a kindness from you to give him a good view. And he’s gone and ruined it.
He runs his fingertips down your sole yet again and you cackle, kick him awkwardly in the side. On accident, you swear.
“Leon—“ you move to slide off his length, and he grips tight to your waist. Panicked.
“Okay, okay. I’ll stop.”
IV.
You’ve a mouth stuffed full with his dick, and all he cares about is the fucking movie playing on the television. You’ve seen it before—it’s not even good, but for some reason he’s been enraptured.
You manage to draw his attention back for a few minutes, and just when he starts getting into it—pretty noises, face darkening with blush, thighs tensing—he’ll glance back up. Pat you on the shoulder. Say, “Wait, this part looks good.”
Unintentionally edging himself, and it would be hilarious if your jaw wasn’t aching at this point.
Halfway through the movie, you decide to give up and get off your sore knees. You join him on the couch, and he doesn’t even notice. Gives you little more than a short glance and a smile.
But he makes it up to you once the credits begin to roll.
warning: quite a long fic, not proofread 0_0, Leon being an absolute lovestruck idiot
Leon doesn't know what he's doing.
He's sitting at the far corner of the small, comfy cafe he's at, drinking black coffee while sneaking glances towards the barista at the counter.
He doesn't even like coffee. Well, he thought he didn't. But he always liked the black coffee you made.
For the past few weeks, he made sure that coming to this very cafe became apart of his daily routine. He tries to do so everyday when he's not on a mission.
But why does he make the effort to do so?
He doesn't even know himself. All he knew was that he wanted to see you. Even if it's from a distance. Even if it meant sneaking shy glances at you, who's taking the patrons orders, and making their drinks.
Seeing your pleasant smile always brightened his day, even if the smile wasn't meant for him. Your smile and friendly aura are what attracted him to you in the first place. Yet, he couldn't find it in him to go up to you and strike a conversation. The only words he had ever uttered to you were, "One black coffee, please". On some occasions, he would order a sandwich as well, if he was hungry. After getting his order, he would find a seat in a corner that was away from the other patrons, but was still in bird's eye view to see you working behind the counter.
Right now, you were busy behind the counter, whipping up a customer's order swiftly. Leon could tell you were exhausted, and rightfully so. Because that day, it seemed that the cafe was more busier than usual. Even though the cafe was packed with more customers than usual, Leon noticed how you still kept a smile on your face as you served each and every customer with the help of your co-workers.
Leon wonders how you do it. How were you able to keep a smile on your face despite being clearly exhausted? He could barely smile after filling up a couple of tedious government reports. He wanted to ask you, but was it stepping out of line?
He was just a random customer at your cafe. so wouldn't it be weird if he were to suddenly come up to you and ask, "Hey, how do you always keep a smile on your face like that?"
You would definitely be confused, and would think that he had a few screws loose Leon didn't want you to think that way of him. Not when he barely had the chance to get to know you yet.
How long has he been sitting at the cafe anyways?
He looked down at his half empty cup of coffee, and picked it up to finish drinking it.
Ah..
It's cold.
Must've been here for quite some time now.
Just as Leon was about to stand up and return the cup back to the counter where you were standing at, he watched one of your coworkers walk up to you, saying something that didn't quite reach his ears. You smiled at your coworker, and left your station at the counter to go to the back, while the coworker took over the job of taking the customers orders.
Your shift must have ended, Leon thought, as he quietly sulked at missing his opportunity to talk to you again.
Looks like hell have to try again another time.
No matter how hard Leon tries, it seemed as if every opportunity he got to go and talk to you is short-lived. He was either interrupted by impatient customers waiting in line behind him or by your coworkers who needed help with something. Despite this, he couldn't entirely blame the circumstances for not being able to talk to you. If he hadn't hesitated to go and talk to you, he wouldn't be in this troubled predicament.
Why was he hesitating?
You were just an ordinary person, going about with your life like anyone would. He shouldn't feel nervous to go and strike a conversation with you.
Yet here he was, getting butterflies in his stomach whenever the thought of talking to you pops up in his mind. The way he's behaving right now reminds him of his 21 year old self, the rookie cop he once was. But he's no longer 21, he's 27. 6 years have passed since that unfortunate incident in Raccoon City. He was now a fully fledged government agent, having faced various bio weapons among the missions he's been assigned. Talking to you should be no big deal, right?
The moment Leon stepped into the cafe, he could spot a (very) noticeable difference in the atmosphere right then compared to the previous times he's been to the cafe. It was quite empty, only having about a few customers lounging there.
That could be because it wasn't the peak hour yet for the cafe. After all, it was only 10 am. Usually, Leon would show up at the cafe at around 1 pm, the time which more people would show up to the cafe. Would it be weird for him to show up earlier than he usually did?
No. It shouldn't be.
He was a customer after all, he's allowed to go and get coffee whenever he wants.
No big deal.
So why was he so pressed about it? Why did he care about little things like that? Leon didn't have the answers to those questions, and just shook those thoughts out of his head, before making his way to the counter, where you were.
He swears he saw your eyes light up when he locked eyes with you. But then again, it could've just been a figment of his imagination,
"Oh! Hello sir! You're here earlier today!" Your voice rang out, as you smiled at the blond man who was walking towards the counter.
You noticed?
Leon, slightly taken aback by your jovial greeting, could only just nod his head. He didn't think you'd actually acknowledge that he was there at the cafe earlier than he usually would be.
"Ah.... yeah I suppose I came here earlier than usual," he replied quite drily. Not the tone he wanted to his words to come off as.
Despite his blatant dryness, the smile on your face unwavering.
"So, I'm guessing you want your usual?"
Usual?
"By usual, do you mean a black coffee?"
"Yeah, I mean, isn't that what you always order from here? Sometimes, you order a sandwich too, right?"
Leon's mouth was slightly agape, not knowing what to say, Did he really come to this cafe so many times that you'd know his order by heart? Leon wanted to feel flattered, but at the same time, this was to be expected if he kept on ordering the same thing over and over.
"Yeah, guess you got me all figured out. Kinda boring, isn't it?" Leon said, in a self-deprecating tone.
"If I'm being honest, yeah, it is kind of boring to order the same thing all the time. But people like eating or drinking something they re familiar with, so does it really matter if their order is boring if that's what they want?"
Your very blunt answer was not what Leon was expecting. But it was refreshing nonetheless.
"You do have a point. Familiarity is something everyone unconsciously seeks for, even in the littlest of things."
"True, familiarity in the littlest things are what allows us to build connections and find common ground after all." You continued, as you smiled warmly at Leon, which only caused him to break eye contact with you. Wow, he didn't expect to be having a full on conversation with you, today of all days.
"Glad to hear we're on the same page on these things, Mister....?" Your words trailed off, as you attempted to get the blond man's name.
Leon blinked in realisation that you were asking for him name, and almost choked on air, clearing his throat to regain his composure.
"Leon. Just call me Leon, No need for formalities, haha."
Your smile only grew brighter at his words, a chuckle leaving your mouth as well.
"I see, it's nice to finally get your name, Leon I'm _____. I should go and make your coffee now, don't wanna keep you waiting." You said, as you quickly went to prepare the black coffee you always made for him.
Leon was in a daze, satisfaction washing all over his face. He finally was able to get your name. But there was a thought lingering at the back of his mind.
With the way you phrased your words, were you also waiting for the chance to learn his name?
No, he shouldn't really jump to conclusions like that. Maybe you simply just wanted to know his name, nothing more than that.
He was soon interrupted from his thoughts from you coming back up to the counter with his coffee in your hand, and something else too.
Cookies..?
"Here you go! That'll be $2.50. Also, thought it would be nice to have cookies to eat as well. To satisfy your sweet tooth."
"You're giving someone who orders black coffee almost everyday from your cafe, cookies, to satisfy their sweet tooth?" Leon repeated your words, sarcasm slipping out of his tongue.
He was taken aback, amused even.
He expected you to take back your words, but instead, you just doubled down.
"Yeah, why not? I have a hunch you'll like them. Always trust the barista, Leon." You said sending a wink his way.
"And don't worry about paying for it, it's on me. A little thank you for being a loyal customer." You handed Leon the bag of cookies and his usual coffee, before waving him goodbye.
"Bye Leon! Hope to see you again soon!"
Leon just nodded in return, beckoning goodbye before heading out of the cafe to head over to his next destination. Once he was sure he was fully out of your sight, he almost collapsed out of pure bliss and joy.
He couldn't believe that just this one interaction with you was able to make him feel this way. Making him feel like a high school kid all over again. Making his heart beat so rapidly.
He concluded that he had a crush on you. There was no doubt about that, with how he was feeling.
But he knew that he would have to do more in order to catch your attention. After all, to you, he was just another regular customer of the cafe you worked at.
He wanted to get to know you more. He had to talk to you more.
Too bad things didn't exactly go the way Leon wanted it to. How was he supposed to know that his schedule would've become so packed for the next few days that he didn't even have time to go to the cafe?
Leon could only internally curse at himself and his management for suddenly assigning him all these tasks and reports. They weren't difficult, but it was time-consuming, and that was what Leon hated about them the most.
It had been a week since he last went to buy coffee from the cafe you worked at. A week since he last saw you.
He wonders how you've been faring for these last couple of days. He hopes you've been doing okay, like you always have. Was it weird for him to want to see you?
Maybe.
After all, the two of you were barely even acquaintances.
Still, he wanted to go to the cafe and see you.
But he couldn't do that just yet. Not until he's completed all the tasks and reports assigned to him.
Leon knew he was definitely lacking sleep. He could use one of the coffees you'd make for him. It would definitely energise me, he thought.
It was as if the gods heard his prayers, as Hunnigan popped up from behind him, as she set down a cup of coffee. He recognised the logo on the paper cup. It was from the cafe you worked at.
"Here, thought you could use some coffee. You look as if you're going to die any moment now." Hunnigan says, as she looked him up and down.
"Wow, thanks a lot. Appreciate ya'. Remind me to take you out to drink next time, 'kay?"
"No thanks."
Leon just chuckled as he watched the unamused Hunnigan return back to her own desk, before setting his eyes on the coffee she gave him.
He thinks to himself, "Did you make this?"
You probably did. After all, you were one of the main baristas at the cafe.
He gingerly picks up the cup, blowing softly onto the surface of the cup, before taking a sip of the coffee.
....
It was bitter.
Bitter?
Why was it bitter?
Usually, the coffees you'd make were sweeter than this.
"Hey, Hunnigan. You sure this is black coffee?" Leon calls out to Hunnigan. Hunnigan looks up from her screen, confusion spread across her face.
"Yeah. It's definitely black coffee."
"Why is it so bitter than?"
Leon watched as Hunnigan furrows her eyebrows, her expression becoming one of unamusement.
"Black coffee is supposed to be bitter, Leon."
What?
Leon didn't know what to think. All this time, the coffees you made for him were sweeter than what he just drank. At that moment, he recalled the last time he'd talk to you.
"Also, thought it would be nice to have cookies to eat as well. To satisfy your sweet tooth."
"You're giving someone who orders black coffee almost everyday from your cafe, cookies, to satisfy their sweet tooth?"
"Yeah, why not? I have a hunch you'll like them. Always trust the barista, Leon."
Leon immediately rises from his seat, feeling his face flush in embarrassment. You somehow knew Leon wouldn't like black coffee. And all this while, you were playing with him, making him think he was drinking black coffee when in actuality, he was not.
He had to talk to you.
He wanted to know how you'd know that he apparently wouldn't like black coffee. Not even he himself realised that.
He immediately heads to the exit, wanting to confront you about it. The cafe was 20 mins away, he could go there and quickly come back. That is, after he gets his answers.
"Hey Leon! Where are you going?!? You still have stuff to-"
"I'll be back, Hunnigan."
.
.
.
Within 20 minutes, Leon finds himself at the cafe you worked at. It was almost 12 pm, so customers were going to pile up soon.
Leon sees you at the counter, and walks up to you.
You immediately noticed him, and your eyes once again, lit up at the sight of the blond man.
"Oh hey! Leon! It's been a while. How've you been?"
"How'd you know from the get go I wouldn't like actual black coffee?"
Your eyes widened in surprise, before you suddenly burst out laughing. Leon just looked at you, confused.
"Oh my god, you finally realised, huh? After one month. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be laughing, but it really is amusing."
"What's so amusing about this? You tricking me into thinking you're giving me black coffee all this time?" Leon mumbles, avoiding your eyes as he clearly was embarrassed about the situation.
Maybe confronting you head on like this wasn't the best idea....
"I sincerely apologise. But can I ask you this one thing?"
"Uh.... okay?"
"When you first started coming to this cafe one month ago, was my coffee the first ever coffee you've actually tried?"
Oh.
It was.
But Leon was already too embarrassed to admit that.
Seeing his reaction, you just chuckled even more.
"Based on your reaction, I can tell it was. That explains why you didn't seem to notice that I got the orders mixed up that day. I accidentally gave you a latte instead of black coffee, but before I could warn you, you already took a sip, and didn't say anything about it."
"Oh."
"Oh in deed. I didn't know how to burst your bubble, you clearly enjoyed the latte and I didn't want to ruin your mood that day. So I just continued to make you lattes instead of actual black coffees from then on. I guess I just wanted to see how long it would take for you to figure that out, haha!"
Leon wishes he could just disappear at that moment. How embarrassing. He was just being fooled all this while unknowingly.
At least it gave you a good laugh, that's what Leon thought.
But could he recover from this moment?
Hopefully.
Your laughter died down after a while, and that's when you started feeling a little guilty for tricking Leon. His embarrased side was really adorable though. You didn't think that this stoic man who always came to the cafe was able to make this expression. It was kinda cute.
"I'm sorry once again for fooling you all this while. Is there anything I can do for you to forgive me? So that I won't lose a very loyal customer?" You asked with pleading eyes, batting your eyelashses at the blond man.
"Hmm.... how about you give me your number for starters?"
You were taken aback by his request, a blush creeping up your face as you quickly realised he wasn't joking, flashing you a boyish grin.
"Sure! Why not. I guess we'll be talking a lot more huh, Leon."
Summary: Your rookie cop boyfriend, Leon, protects you during your morning jog. Based on the tiktok by @johnny_tsunami_88.
Warnings tags: protective!leon, fluff, though the image says female jogger, this is a fic for gn!reader!!!, reader might be jogging/running/walking
Author's notes: heeey!! finally i have decided to write! i am a HUGE sucker for protective fics and when i saw this tiktok i HAD TO WRITE.
my leon's masterlist
"Leaving the house. Love you."
Your text message arrives around 15 minutes before the end of Leon's shift. It had been a relatively peaceful night in Raccoon City, except for a fight in the busy bar on Main Street at 3 am. Again, Leon had to separate two males who got involved in a fight because of a woman. " Every Saturday, he thought as he sent both men their way before asking for backup. At least they were inoffensive enough to get in their ride-share app cars without complaining.
Leon welcomes your text message with a smile. You tell him you want to restart your fitness journey at 5 am. Why? Because if you don't do it at 5 am, you will never compromise for the rest of the day, so it is a way to encourage yourself.
Of course, Leon was there at 5 am every morning to accompany you. There was no way in hell Leon would let you run alone. The streets could be dangerous, and Leon was always cautious about your safety, especially given the dangers of Raccoon City.
But today, the first day of his new schedule, Leon couldn't relax. He asked you to text him when you left the house, let him know if anything bothered you, and carry pepper spray, though you hated the idea of "arming" yourself. Leon couldn't fathom something happening to you.
With a sudden decision in mind, Leon turns on his patrol car with his lights on, but no sound. He has an appointment he can't miss.
-x-
Breathe, you tell yourself. Breathe deeply. Concentrate.
With your favorite playlist playing in your ears, you put one foot after the other, focused on exercising. It is your first day without Leon at your side as your loyal partner, and you thought you would feel bad, but sometimes being alone is the most peaceful thing that could happen.
You texted him as he asked you to put one earbud in (Leon begged you not to put both and to always be aware of your surroundings) and started jogging- slowly, at your own pace, with no stress. The sun wasn't out yet, and the birds weren't singing yet. Most lights are off in the houses in your neighborhood.
This new fitness journey has always been about your mental health, a way to make you feel better about yourself. The fresh air, the feeling of having your body moving. It sucked that you had to be aware of your surroundings, but what can we do right?
Within ten minutes of your run, you notice the familiar lights of a police car appear behind you. You are surprised, turning your head quickly behind you and seeing the familiar car following you at a slow speed, escorting you as you exercise.
As you get close to the park near your house, far away from most houses, you hear your boyfriend's voice through the speakers.
"You are doing fantastic! I know you can do it, honey!"
You giggle, then continue and focus on your usual jog- almost a walk, but you don't mind. What matters is that you are feeling good about yourself. After you had enough, you walk toward the police car, breathing heavily, and Leon has his window open, a massive smile on his face.
"Hey, pretty." He looks so handsome, with the rising sunbeams illuminating his face.
"Hello, officer. Am I in any trouble?" You tease back, lying against his open window. Leon offers you a water bottle, which you gladly accept and drink. "Shouldn't you be off work already?"
"Yeah. Need to keep civilians safe, though. Especially adorable ones like you."
"I would be fine. My boyfriend told me to bring this." You raise the pepper spray in your hand, and Leon nods, happy.
"I am glad you are following your boyfriend's direction." Leon then stops and becomes more serious. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."
"You didn't, sweetie. Are you telling me you will always escort me during my morning jogs?"
"I will always keep you safe. Your safety is my number one priority, always." Leon replies, his tone very serious. You nod, saluting his seriouness. "Do you need a ride back home?"
"No, I will be fine on the way home. I promise."
Since no one was around, you decided to return to the house after giving Leon a quick goodbye kiss. Looking over your shoulder, you saw the police cruiser still parked in the same spot, probably with the driver still keeping his eyes on you.
Leon watches as you quickly turn around to blow another kiss before disappearing. His face is red, and his heart feels fuzzy. He shakes his head, thinking it's better to bring the car back to the police station.
Thank you to everyone who got me to over 800 followers <3 It took me over two weeks, but I’ve completed the kink list! Thank you everyone who sent me kinks and ideas, I appreciate it so much!
If you want me to expand on any of these kinks, please let me know!
This is in alphabetical order and here’s the list of included kinks so that you can prepare yourself, skip anything you need to please.
Ab riding, body writing, bondage, breath play, breeding kink, cock warming, exhibition, free use, gang bang, hair pulling, humiliation, knife play, mask kink, mating press, neck biting, overstimulation, pegging, pet play, public sex, quirofilia (hand kink), rape play, shibari/kinbaku, size kink, spanking, thigh riding, tummy bulge, uniform kink.
That is 27 kinks, so I hope there is something for everybody. Feedback is always welcome and thank you again!
!!!!!!!!!!!MINORS DNI! THIS IS PURELY SEXUAL CONTENT!!!!!!!!!!!!
an: this is completely self indulgent. i can just imagine these all so well, all texts were made by me and the pics in them are from pinterest. pls enjoy 😽😽 whatever leon works btw but i imagined ID!Leon a lot when i was making these.
snowghoul
blakekathryn
dailybridgerton
romaincrisis
