𝑺𝑶𝑭𝑻 𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑬𝑺 𝑻𝑶 𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑫
A/n: some Leon smut with fem reader hehe. Requiem Leon in mind!
Contains: 18+, Minors DNI. Explicit sexual content, smut, established relationship, body worship (chubby/plus-size reader), praise kink, slight possessiveness, unprotected sex, mentions of alcohol (whiskey), post-mission intimacy, Requiem Leon Kennedy being a soft dom for his girl.
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The air in the dimly lit room was thick with the scent of whiskey and something uniquely Leon—a mix of gunpowder, leather, and the faint, clean smell of his cologne. He sat on the edge of the hotel bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, his back to her. The broad expanse of his shoulders, tense even in rest, was a testament to the years of survival etched into his very being.
She watched him from the doorway, her heart a frantic drum against her ribs. Leon now was harder, colder, the years of fighting having carved away the boyish charm she remembered from stories, leaving behind a man forged in fire. But his eyes, when he turned to her, still held that flicker of something vulnerable, something that made her ache.
He finally looked over his shoulder, his piercing blue eyes catching the low light. "You gonna stand there all night?" His voice was a low rumble, a gravelly sound that vibrated through her.
She took a hesitant step into the room. "I was just... thinking."
He turned fully, swinging one leg up onto the bed, his gaze sweeping over her. It wasn't a judgmental look, but an assessing one, as if he were memorizing every curve. He'd seen her naked before, touched every inch of her soft, ample body, yet his intensity never failed to make her feel like the first time. It made her feel seen, truly seen, in a way no one else ever had.
"Come here," he commanded, his tone softening just enough to be an invitation rather than an order.
She moved to him, stopping between his knees. His hands came to rest on her hips, his thumbs tracing circles over the fabric of her simple cotton shirt. The warmth of his touch seeped through the material, sending a shiver up her spine. He leaned forward, pressing his face against the softness of her stomach, his breath hot through the thin shirt.
"You're so soft," he murmured, his voice muffled against her. It was a statement of fact, but it sounded like worship. He nuzzled deeper, his hands sliding around to grip the generous curve of her ass, pulling her flush against him. She could feel the hard press of his arousal through his jeans, a stark contrast to the yielding softness of her body against his face.
His hands roamed, mapping the landscape of her with a reverence that made her breath catch. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her leggings and tugged them down, his eyes never leaving hers as the fabric pooled around her ankles. He helped her step out of them, his gaze darkening as he took in the sight of her—her thick thighs, the soft swell of her belly, the curve of her hips.
"Perfect," he breathed, the word a raw, honest confession.
He stood then, his movements fluid and predatory, backing her toward the bed until her legs hit the mattress and she fell back with a soft gasp. He followed her down, caging her in with his body, his weight a welcome pressure. He was all hard lines and lean muscle, a beautiful, dangerous contradiction against her softness.
His mouth claimed hers, a desperate, hungry kiss that tasted of whiskey and longing. It wasn't gentle; it was a claiming, a reminder that they were both alive, here, in this moment. His hands were everywhere, tugging her shirt over her head, unhooking her bra with practiced ease until she was bare to his appreciative gaze.
He kissed his way down her body, his lips and tongue worshipping every inch of her soft skin. He lingered on her breasts, taking one peaked nipple into his mouth and sucking hard, his teeth scraping just enough to send a jolt of pleasure-pain straight to her core. His other hand kneaded her other breast, his thumb flicking over the sensitive bud.
She arched into him, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. He moved lower, his mouth tracing a path over the soft curve of her belly. He didn't shy away from it; he reveled in it, his tongue dipping into her navel, his hands gripping her thick thighs, pushing them apart.
"Leon," she gasped, his name a plea on her lips.
He looked up at her from between her thighs, his eyes dark with lust and something deeper, something that looked terrifyingly like love. "I've got you," he promised, his voice a low growl.
And then his mouth was on her, hot and insistent. He licked and sucked with a single-minded focus, his tongue delving into her folds, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves and circling it mercilessly. She bucked against his mouth, her hands fisting in the sheets, her breath coming in ragged sobs. The pleasure was overwhelming, a tidal wave building deep inside her.
He slid one finger inside her, then another, curling them just right to hit that spot that made her see stars. He worked her with his mouth and fingers, pushing her higher and higher until she shattered, her orgasm ripping through her with a force that left her trembling and breathless.
He didn't give her time to recover. He moved up her body, his own clothes disappearing in a flurry of motion until he was as naked as she was. He settled between her thighs, his hard length pressing against her still-sensitive entrance.
He looked down at her, his blue eyes burning into hers. "You're mine," he said, his voice a raw, possessive rasp.
"Yours," she whispered back, her hands coming up to cup his face.
He pushed into her in one smooth, deep thrust, and they both groaned at the sensation. He filled her completely, stretching her in the most delicious way. He started to move, his strokes slow and deep at first, building a rhythm that was both punishing and pleasurable.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, meeting him thrust for thrust. The room was filled with the sounds of their bodies moving together, their harsh breaths, and the soft, desperate sounds of their pleasure. He bent his head to her neck, his teeth scraping against her skin, marking her as his.
The pressure built again, a coiling heat in her belly that grew tighter and tighter with each powerful thrust of his hips. He reached between them, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing in tight, firm circles.
"Come for me," he commanded, his voice strained with his own impending release.
That was all it took. She shattered again, her inner walls clamping down around him as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. With a guttural groan, he followed her over the edge, his own release pulsing deep inside her.
He collapsed on top of her, his weight a comforting, grounding presence. They lay there for a long time, their bodies tangled together, their breathing slowly returning to normal. He rolled off her, pulling her into his arms, her head resting on his chest, his heartbeat a steady, reassuring rhythm against her ear.
He kissed the top of her head, his fingers stroking her hair. "Stay with me," he murmured into the darkness.
She tightened her arm around his waist, pressing a kiss to his chest. "Always."
In the quiet aftermath, with the weight of the world outside the door momentarily forgotten, they were just two people finding solace in each other's arms, a soft, chubby woman and a hardened survivor, two halves of a whole, bound by something far stronger than just desire.
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