The idea of Leon dropping to his knees and begging for forgiveness…. 🤤 hands on the readers hips but his hands are so big that he’s basically holding your whole waist. He’s got puppy dog eyes and he’s pouting and pushing his cheek against your stomach as he’s looking up at you like a damn dog.
Sorry if this is too much it’s just I have thoughts and I think you’d share them 😭
a/n; oh, I will ALWAAAAYS share the thoughts 🤤 sorry this took me so long to get around to answering! I don't know if this was intended as a request or not, but im using it to get me back in the groove + just to write some DI!Leon because it's been a long while since I've visited Leon's DI era
sum; leon needs to fix his bad habits, and when he comes home late again to find his fiancé waiting angrily, he knows he needs to make it up to her.
content; oral (f!receiving), fingering, leon is highkey pathetic in this, leon gets off on giving head, implied smaller reader, size kink-ish, leon doesn't get a reward, reader gets a tiny bit mean? but the context makes it understandable, it gets softer toward the end don't worry (I need a happy ending im sorry, guys!!!😞)
wc; 2.3k
Leon had a bad habit of working late, but it's only gotten worse. Having been injured, he took a week off, and since then, he's been absolutely swamped. It was like he was being punished for needing to heal. It made you scoff. That week of healing was almost four months ago. Four months! You were tired of waiting up for him after you'd already been working all day yourself.
Tonight was the final straw. He'd promised tonight that he'd be home in time for dinner, at the very, very least. You made his favorite dish, and waited. And waited. And by the time the clock was striking midnight, you angrily stomped off to the bathroom to shower and do your nighttime routine. Twenty minutes later, you were getting brushing your hair when you heard the front door click open, like he was trying desperately not to alert you. You pulled your robe over your silky night gown, crossing your arms as you trudged out and meeting him in the hallway. He tensed as he felt your eyes burning into his back as he was hanging up his jacket.
"You promised." You said, tone dripping with disappointment and betrayal.
"I-i know—"
"I know, honey, it won't happen again." You mocked, brows furrowing as he turned around.
"Please." He breathed, brows knitting together as he frowned, rough features dripping with guilt and shame.
"Please, what? Forgive you? Let you make it up to me? Don't be mad? You had soooo much work and deadlines." You mocked his endless excuses, voice becoming tight.
He fell quiet, approaching with light, cautious steps. When you didn't stop him, he found his way to stand in front of you, hands hesitating as they hovered near your hips.
"I know you're pissed, and I don't have any excuses or—or anything to say because it.. it is my fault. I've promised and been unable to keep the promises. Just... please, for real this time, let me make it up to you."
"And how are you going to do that? By promising me you'll be home on time? Promising you'll finish your work and get caught up and fix your schedule? Sure, go ahead, feed me more lies, I'm still hungry because I haven't fucking had dinner because someone didn't come home on time and I'm tired of eating alone!" You snapped, words coming out between gritted teeth.
In a flurry of quick desperation, Leon dropped to his knees, hands finally closing to your hips to keep you from walking away. "I'm so, so fucking sorry." He whispered, pressing his forehead to the space just below your breasts, mumbling incoherent and desperate apologies and pleas for you to 'please, god, don't leave', and 'I love you so goddamn much'.
You stared down at him, arms still crossing over your chest. "You'd better have a damn good solution to this, or you'll be on the couch until you can fix your shit, or until you push me over the edge."
"I know it's not a solution, but will you let me try to make you feel better? Please, I promise I'll fix it. But for now, will you let me..? I promise I can make you feel so much better." He trailed off, looking up at you as his hands practically engulfed your waist as they slid higher, shaking slightly like he was afraid you'd push him away. His eyes were glassy, brows knitted with guilt, lips quivering faintly as he eagerly awaited your response.
"If you waste time, or move the wrong way, you're sleeping on the couch for breaking another promise." You said, arms finally uncrossing so you could lay on hand on the back of his head, tugging back slightly so he would hiss, eyes squeezing shut.
"Please. Please, just let me show you how fucking sorry I am. You can do whatever you want. I'll do whatever you want." He breathed, pressing his cheek to your belly as he pulled you in tighter. His knees began to ache from the position, but he dared not to interrupt or move.
"Figure it out yourself since you wanna be by yourself so damn bad."
"I don't!" He insisted, hands gripping tighter over your robe. "I hate every second of it. You know that. You know I don't—"
"The more you waste time talking, the more annoyed I get. You're just digging yourself a deeper hole with your repetition." You exhaled through your nose, a small grumble lingering under the sharp exhale.
"Sorry." He whispered, much less insistent and desperate, just a little unsure and hesitant. It was clear, even through your aggravation, that Leon felt like he shouldn't even be touching you. He was just relishing the fact that you weren't shoving him away and making him sleep on the couch, because he definitely deserved it.
With a slight shake to his hands, he moved them to meet in the middle to untie the string of your robe, his fingers slipping under almost immediately so he could feel the silk of your sleepwear, the feeling making him whine a little. He looked up at you, only to find you idly messing with your nails, like you had been in the process of fixing them and were interrupted. The lack of response only made him move further. His hands slipped lower, and without more than a glance up at you, he slipped his warm, rough palms beneath the night gown, finding your waist and bunching up the fabric just above your navel. He had to bite back a dramatic cry when he saw your lack of underwear. Nothing—not even a damn thong.
"I'm sorry." He mumbled, one hand slipping down your middle and moving down gently to brush his thumb along your folds, pushing them apart so he could press gently against your clit. He knew he messed up because you weren't even turned on by yourself—normally, you were already excited and ready, but because you were pissed off and he wasn't helping, your body hadn't caught the memo yet. Your system was still mad rather than angrily aroused.
He didn't even get a response with the gentle pressure, so he continued with a steady pressure, simply hoping you'd give some sort of response. He leaned in to kiss softly at the top of your hip, kissing toward the center below your navel, finding his way down with his lips so he could replace his thumb with his mouth. He licked a slow, pointed stripe between your folds, flicking the wet muscle against your clit before he latched onto the little nub gently. He looked up at you, and luckily, you'd stopped with your faux distraction, but you still didn't offer even a twitch of your lips.
He used excess spit to coat his index finger, slipping it downward to gently prod at your entrance, hoping to further coax arousal and response. The most he got was a small clench of your core as he slipped a finger into you, followed by an idle hum. He could feel your body's response, so he eased into his efforts, slowly pushing and pulling his finger, tongue and lips working with ease against your clit. Eventually, his middle finger joined, and he heard you inhale tightly. He looked up again, pathetically pleased by the faint quiver in your lips.
He continued to work you with his fingers, now curling the thick digits so he could press into that spongy spot inside of you. He felt your stance falter, so he took his other hand to lift your thigh to his shoulder. You fell back against the wall, grumbling faintly as you grabbed onto him by the hair. He lifted your other thigh and let your weight completely fall into him. You might be mad, but fuck was it sexy when he held you so goddamn easily, especially in such a complicated position.
He pulled his fingers out, licked them clean, and grabbed onto your thighs firmly. Now that your body was caught up and you were properly soaked, he could easily use his mouth alone. With his mouth, he lapped at your folds slowly, tongue flicking and prodding at your clit before he dove downward, tongue dipping past your entrance only to delve deeper once he heard your breath hitch. Leon watched you closely, huffing heavily as he curled his fingers tighter against the flesh of your thighs. You thanked God that he had a big nose because the bridge of his nose rubbed against your clit perfectly as he tilted his head and lapped and prodded back and forth with his tongue, occasional whines and sounds of desperation leaving his lips.
He had to pull away for a moment, panting heavily as he swallowed thickly as looked up at you, mouth opening to speak. "Don't you dare ruin it, Leon." You spat, voice rough with need as you tightened your grip on his hair, earning a choked whine.
"Yes, ma'am." He breathed, brows furrowing as he took one more big breath of recovery and dove back in, eyes closed as he focused all his energy on you and your incoming orgasm. You mewled, and he moaned at the sound. Finally, some kind of reassuring response. He could've cum just from that, but without your permission right now, he risked being put in the dog house for only God knows how long.
His precise and desperate motions of his tongue and mouth pushed you to finally give in, thighs shaking slightly as you panted and breathed out soft moans. He sped up messily, hips bucking mindlessly in time with his tongue. You pulled him firmly against your pussy, and he looked up at you with those glassy baby blues. Your head fell back, chest rising and falling, and he whined at the sight. He took his tongue out and tracked it back up to your clit, lips latching onto your sensitive bundle of nerves.
He took one hand from your thighs and let it find its way back to your center, three fingers slipping in easily thanks to the previous prep and your arousal combined nicely with his spit and drool. You shifted to wrap your legs properly around his head, thighs damn near acting like ear muffs as he suckled harshly at your clit and curled his fingers with every drag and push. You let out a whimper, gasping slightly as you felt a particularly perfect suck, making you jolt slightly.
"Please," he sounded like he was crying. He wasn't, but he could've been. "Fuck, please, give it to me." He heavily, lapping and flicking his tongue against your clit.
"Shut—mmh!—shut up and keep your m-mouth busy." You panted. There was less anger, more need in your tone.
"Mhmm," he hummed, whining slightly before he picked up the pace of his fingers, pumping back and forth roughly with his fingertips pushing ruthlessly against your g-spot every time his fingers retracted.
Without a warning, you felt your orgasm build up rapidly with his newfound roughness. He had hoped to do it softer, but given the circumstances and your responses, he did what he knew you liked more. Rough sucks, mean thrusts of his fingers, and desperate sounds slipping from his pathetic mouth. You pulled at his hair and bucked your hips, back arching with a pitchy mewl, lips parting as you gushed around his fingers. He worked you through most of it before he pulled his fingers out and spread your pussy open for him, tongue lapping hungrily at your sopping folds and twitchy walls.
Once you began to go limp and push his head away, he pulled back and carefully let your legs down, easing your shakes with his hands as he stayed on his knees. He let you recover and come to your senses as he adjusted your night gown and tied your robe, careful not to make it too tight. He looked up at you, chin pressing to your sternum as he waited patiently.
"I'm still mad at you." You finally spoke, but your hand left his hair and came to cup his cheek, letting his head turn to kiss your palm.
"I know." He murmured.
"But you're damn lucky I'm a forgiving lover."
"I'm so lucky. And so, so stupid." He wrapped his arms around you and held tight, eyes closing as he leveled out his breathing. "Just give me some time, okay? I.. I'll see if I can weasel my way into less of a workload. And maybe a couple of days off every week or two? Does that sound good?"
"Only if you do it and don't leave me with empty promises for another four months."
"I'm sorry, I know I've kept you waiting, and I've been so dumb, and so inconsiderate."
You gently tugged his arms, and he rose to his feet, standing tall in front of you. "Keep me waiting longer than a couple of weeks and I'll be staying with a friend until you're steady again. Got it?"
"Yes. Yes, I got it. I know."
"I can't keep sitting here like an unloved and forgotten wife."
"Wife." He mused softly, remembering so quickly that you had yet to be officially, legally married. He tugged you in tight, inhaling deeply. "I'm not gonna fuck up again. Not when I'm so close to being able to say that I'm your husband."
"Good, because I'd hate to say that I'm someone else's wife in the future." You murmured, tone softer and sounding almost scared at the thought.
"Not on my watch." He squeezed, only to pick you up and carry you down the hall. "I've kept you waiting enough. Let's get to bed." He murmured.
"Let's. You tire me out."
"Glad I still have that effect on my lady." He grinned, all too proud.
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