leon kennedy who relieves his stress by eating you out.
2.4k words of leon having the time of his life being inbetween your legs. nsfw obviously. minors dni.
—
leon had come home later than usual today, shoulders all tight and jaw tense from the teeth gritting you’re not sure he even noticed doing. problem at his work was your best guess as to why he had that expression on his face. you decided to swallow your usual question about how his day went since the answer was pretty apparent. still, like the sweet man that he is, leon greeted you with a soft kiss to the forehead, the gentleness he had preserved only for you shone through despite all the tension he’s withholding.
you embraced the taller man through the silence, hoping that the little gesture could provide some kind of comfort to him. but it seemed like leon had an entirely different idea of comfort that day as he smoothly brought a hand under your knees to carry you straight to the bedroom instead. he laid you down into the mattress, wasting no time in capturing your lips vigorously leaving you breathless under the ambush.
fire-like sensation flared across your body, your nerves came alive at the touch of his hand on your side, like it’s the only thing keeping his self control intact. you hummed into the kiss, the giddiness only excited him further, kissing you deeper, his mouth moved in a pace like that of a starving man. and to the hunger you could only respond accordingly, matching his hurried rhythm, tasting the desperation from someone who seemed like he couldn’t get enough.
he took what you gave and still demanded more. a groan escaped him, like it hurt him physically to pull away. but before you could even miss the warmth of his lips it was already back in full force against your neck, him leaving hot trails of kisses as he moved lower, sucking slightly on ridge of your collarbone, a breathy moan that left your mouth served as a fuel for leon as he brought his free hand to skillfully open the buttons of your silk pajamas, revealing your naked breasts in their glory. the man let out a sigh full of wonderment at your gorgeous body, worshipping every inch on your skin as though his kisses were the prayers.
”so beautiful. so perfect,” he mumbled, the timber of his voice sent shivers all the way down to the end of your spine. his wet mouth found your right nipple, sucking as his other hand twisted your left one in-between his fingers, the stimulation made your stomach jolt at the overwhelming sensation, abdomen unconsciously chasing the pleasure and meeting him halfway. leon’s heavy breath ghosted over your chest, turned on beyond belief, his eyes deep in a haze; lust glossing across his orbs.
“l-leon,” your needy whine snapped him out of a trance, letting you go and he could say with confidence doing so was harder than him having to pull out a knife out of his arm that one time. he licked once more out of greed before planting soft kisses down to your stomach, his hand couldn’t quite get it off your tit just yet, his thumb brushed over your stiff as a rock nipple like an anchor, a reminder that you desired him just as much as he did you in that moment.
he moved lower, lower, until his chin felt the fabric of your waistband, hooking a finger on it but he stopped himself, tilting his head as he faced you. “can i baby? ‘ve had a long day,” he asked gruffly, the gravel on his voice practically made your pussy tingled in excitement. there was nothing explicit in his words yet your mind filled the blanks pretty fast, your brain answered first by nodding rapidly before your mouth could catch up. something in the way he pleaded had made you so eager for his touch, the man had just declared that pleasing you would help him relieve some stress, like you’re the one doing him a favor instead. what else were you supposed to say besides hell yes?
leon flashed you a smile that could make a grown man or woman weak on their knees before giving your lower stomach another kiss in gratitude; like someone who had been denied water in the middle of desert for a long time had finally found a lake to quench his thirst. a smirk that from your experience, was filled with a promise that had something to do with your ability to walk properly tomorrow.
he pulled down your shorts, you lifted your legs in response like it’s second nature, making it easier for him to take off your pants. he threw the fabric to the ground without care, his eyes loyal and unmoving like he’s stuck in a trance towards what the cloth was hiding this whole time. at his stare you attempted to close your legs but the grip of his hand on your inner thigh prevented you so, leon knelt in front of the bed as he put your legs on your shoulders, supporting your lower half; dangling if it weren’t for his sturdy body.
there it was in its most beautiful state, your soaking cunt right in front of his face. leon used the back of his hand to wipe the corner of his mouth, he could’ve sworn he thought he was drooling. “fuck. is this all for me?” he whispered, you could hear the proud smile in his question, knowing damn well what the answer was. you stared at the ceiling hoping it will help you to form some kind of a proper counter, yet you couldn’t find it in you to think of anything aside from this subliminal want for the male to do something.
you squealed at the touch of his rough hand brushing over your fold, the movement was slow, excruciatingly careful as he took his time like he’s admiring a piece of art. for a man who looked like he was ready to destroy any obstacle to get to this point, leon was unusually patient and looked very much in control.
or so you thought, until both of his arms sneaked themselves around your thighs locking your legs in place and you knew right there and then. there will be nothing stopping him from enjoying the feast he’s about to devour. and he made sure of that.
your body shook in anticipation as leon leaned in, running his tongue across your lips very slowly. each sweep getting deeper, sending mental notes to his senses so they would remember this taste forever. carving it thoroughly like a man who refused to take this moment for granted. your hips bucked at the sensation, chasing it in urgencyfor more, for it to be deeper.
”m-more please,” you pleaded, heaving. having no damn idea how you could be so out of breath even though leon was the only one doing all the moving, yet with every touch of his tongue, every tease, you found it hard to keep yourself in check.
“patience baby, i’m going to take my time with you alright? waited all damn day for this,” he replied with ease, fooling no one when his boxer looked like it was about to burst by his bulging erection. yet he stayed true to his words, because above his own pleasure what got him off the most was seeing your face in bliss, expression changing in every careful touch he did; enjoying how sensitive you became under his hand.
leon eyed your swollen clit that’s already begging to be licked, sucked, anything. and who was he to deny you that? his mouth then moved to the delicate spot, flicking it gently with his tongue as your body jerked like it’s burned alive, finally being granted the pleasure you’ve been waiting for. even when you flailed, leon easily sucked your bud with a scary accuration as he held your lower body steady; the sounds he made as his lips kept licking and swirling were like it came straight out of porn.
you let out a shameless moan and leon thrived under it, basking under the sexy noise you made like he’s an athlete who trained his whole life for this. and he would, if given the chance. him and your pussy everyday? give him a gun if he’d ever deny that. but that’s a wishful thought, a fake—albeit enticing situation he’d found himself daydreaming about, unlike right now, where your very real sopping wet cunt was right in front of him, all for him to please.
“you taste so fucking good.” leon hummed contently, his tongue encircling your clit like a madman who couldn’t get enough, feeling like he was about to cum in his pants every time he felt your center pulsate, twitching because he knew it did that only for him, by his touch only. you grinded your hips on his tongue, chasing for more friction. by then leon had started to lose himself, his control, like a man who was finally at the end of his wits, he began to eat you out genuinely.
his wild movement raw with lust, borderline unhinged as he leaned in deeper to caress and suck your slit like his life depended on it. you were sent into a state of frenzy at the ambush of his tongue, the grip on your thighs preventing you from pulling away as he worked on your already swelled clit, you felt your orgasm coming, stomach coiled. your hands that were grabbing the sheets were now on his dirty blonde hair, holding the soft strands tight like it’s your lifeline, the only thing keeping you still on ground. the tug on his hair as you led him deeper was what sent leon into overdrive, clinging to it like it’s an addiction as he got rougher.
“i-i’m cumming!” you screamed loudly, you were sure the neighbor could hear it so you knew for a fact that leon heard it as well yet his mouth stayed relentless. even as you writhed, overstimulated by the overwhelming waves of thrill he didn’t stop pleasuring you, even as you came undone his tongue was merciless, he was right there with you as you rode out your climax, never stopping even for a second. there were only flashes of light in the blackness as you eyes rolled, your spine tight with heat as you finished.
insatiable, that’s what he was. your hips stuttered, unfurling as he lapped up your release until the very last drop like it’s the best tasting meal he had all week. even with your cum smeared all around his lips, his skin glistening from the lights reflection the man still looked like he wanted more.
and more he took.
”w-wait leon, ‘m too sensitive,” you whimpered, asking for mercy he wasn’t going to give, mercy you weren’t sure you were going to accept either. after all, leon knew more than anyone that you had just as much unsatiated appetite as he was when it comes to this. you panted, your hands were still on his hair, squeezing it to prevent him from starting again, neither pushing him away.
“i know you have one more in there baby, do it for me?” he asked gently, though his gesture was anything but. mouth already on your quivering cunt and you let him, you always do. grinding his tongue against your swollen clitoris once more without giving you a break. you gasped, closing your legs out of reflex and without his hands holding your legs back anymore as they were on your knees, your thighs were practically smothering the man yet he didn’t seem to mind it even a bit. with him continuing to move without a care as he held your legs tighter around him, the man looked like he was exactly where he wanted to be.
when the fresh wave of intense pleasure started to hit you once more, you began to moan louder. the increased sensitivity on your clit had pushed you into taking more than you could, eager in giving the man everything he needed, since he gave you the same. intangible string of pleads escaped your lips as leon pressed on, knowing exactly how much you loved it when your limit was being tested. and even with the repetitive motion you didn’t find the man’s movement any less rigorous than before, it was actually the opposite. the thought of bringing you into the edge for the second time in just a short span of period made leon an ambitious man. no, it made him a beast.
“i-i can’t. ‘m close,” your core clenched and unclenched its muscles at the marvel of the man’s lips. who seemed like it had memorized every curve, every spot that would drive you wild. and he had full intent in doing so as his touch rapidly becoming more staggering, every flick pushing you under a rush that eventually became too much for you to hold. something that felt like a hot chain coiled itself within your stomach, tighter and tighter, begging for the sweet release of climax.
“come on my tongue, let me taste you again.” and like some kind of a mantra, you did just that, a yell of ecstasy cut through the room as your hips faltered erratically all under the soft of his touch, making sure you knew you were safe with him to feel it all, to let go. leon groaned like he ejaculated himself, the feeling of you coming undone was something he’ll never get used to, something that he wanted to all the time if he could.
you panted like someone had personally taken the oxygen from the room, inhaling air like you lack the source. coming down from the high you had noticed once again leon had lapped you all clean sateless man than he is. and when he showed no sign of getting up and changing his position, you started to worry.
“um, leon?” you called carefully.
“yeah?” he replied in ease, like a man without worry.
“aren’t you done?”
he gazed at you, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead which somehow added more to his sex appeal. he still had half of his face buried in your pussy, like someone really had to physically pull him back to get him away from it.
“one more, please baby? i know you have it in you.”
“i-i don’t know if i can, leon,”
“you can. please sweetheart. for me?”
and you knew you could, especially if it’s with leon. so you nodded, having no idea what you just agreed to.
he made you cum twice more after that.
well long story short, it turned out all leon had to do to relieve his stress was to eat you out.
— in which! you could name a few facts about leon on the tippy top of your head, but, well, maaaaaaaybe there were some exceptions.
wordcount! 4.7k (what)
warning! hey so i lied, MDNI, explicit smut (first time writing c'mon give me a chance), cliché, idiots in love, childhood best friends trope, absolute teeth-rotting stuff, very and i mean very LIGHT ANGST like i swear it's just a dabble, LEON IS AN EATER (oral, f-receiving), fingering, p in v, dirty talk, heavy make-out sesh, light praise kink, light degradation kink, light condescending praise, size kink if you squint, sumn sumn leon being leon, snowballing if you squint, possessive f! reader, cockdrunk f!reader, dom! leon, pussydrunk! leon, leon whimpering, one mention of bleeding (not while fucking), bro i swear this was NOT supposed to be a smut i was js thinking w my phantom 13-inch dick okay? OKAY!
loosely inspired by: please by bts (and my thirteen-inch phantom dick)
LEON S. KENNEDY IS A MAN OF FEW WORDS. He likes to keep things simple. Minimal. Straight to the point. That’s just the kind of man he is. He likes his coffee black and his pastries with less sugar.
“Great day, welcome to Annie’s Café. What can I get you?” It was early, and the employee’s tone sounded fake—which, honestly, okay, valid—it’s the crack ass of dawn and the birds still haven’t sung to their heart’s content. No shit the employee sounded ready to clock out, even if they just arrived. Drive-thrus included.
“I’d like two iced Spanish lattes in large with a box of macarons, please,” Leon replied, politely, as if nothing could rain on his parade. He’d been feeling quite peckish, as of late, and he thinks it’s because he’s been hanging out with you too much after each grueling mission.
Now who was he fooling? Himself, obviously. Mission or not, he’s still banging on your door. Too much, unfortunately, to the point that you—begrudgingly—shoved him your spare key the next day so you could actually experience shitting in peace again, and he could just waltz in as he pleases.
“Okay, anything else?” The tired voice of the server blaring from the speaker wrenched him out of his reverie. He shook his head once, twice, then, as if remembering something, he answered, “Make that three boxes. And add that Mango Rose Tart Special, thanks.”
“Okay, please proceed to the next window to claim and have a nice day ahead. Hope to see you next time at Annie’s!” The voice from the speaker sounded tired—dripping with faux cheeriness, but nonetheless, moving to serve his ridiculous order of freshly baked boxes of macarons and a tart, with cold-brewed lattes.
Nodding to himself, mentally patting his back as a job well done, he drove towards the next window, picking up his (rather bulky) order with a dashing half-smile that made the servers thank the gods that pretty people with huge biceps exist. If that was their reward for baking at 3:00 am, they’d gladly make some more.
Jesus, he can’t wait to return to you.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
LEON S. KENNEDY DISLIKES NOISY MORNINGS. He likes to keep things quiet. Peaceful. Alone. Moping around and wagging his imaginary tail to see you—wait, what?
“Sweets! I bought sweets.” Leon nuzzled at your peacefully sleeping form after carefully putting the boxes on your dining table and shoving the lattes into your fridge. His arms automatically hooked into your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest, greedily taking your warmth for himself. He felt you moving, settling quite nicely, and making yourself comfortable in his hold.
“You’re noisy.” He heard you mumble in his chest, but he couldn’t care less. Hooking his chin at the top of your head, he breathes in your scent, inhaling the fragrance of your shampoo and your detergent, utterly content with being suffocated by—well—you.
“You act as if I care.” He hummed, taming your messy bedhead with soft pats, gently weaving his fingers through your hair as if patting an incredibly sleepy chinchilla.
Christ, he could melt just by looking at you. You looked adorable. Your naturally pouty lips jutted as your eyes remained closed, looking utterly at peace. Blissfully unaware of your effect on him. He thinks it’s unfair. How you just breathe, and he’s already at your beck and call. How the sun peeks through your windows perfectly frames your figure, making you look utterly devastating. How your hair just cascades perfectly on your shoulders, looking like messy waves that just fit.
How he thinks he wanted to be a little more than just a best friend.
“Mhm, stay.” He felt arms slowly snaking around his body, and he swore his heart rate sped up. He’s sure you heard it, too—with how your face was pressed into his chest. And he would’ve been embarrassed if he hadn’t felt you nuzzle—burying your nose in between his soft pectorals. Each puff of breath was hot, rendering his brain pathetically useless—a putty in your embrace.
“F-for breakfast?” Yeah, real smooth, Leon. What a stuttering sweet-talker you are. Proud of you, son.
“Forever.”
Then you were awake, staring at those huge cerulean eyes that reminded you of the vast seas. Gods, he was beautiful. Would it be too greedy to wish to wake up every morning with this sight? With Leon’s flushed cheeks and soft eyes that scream longing and affection?
Oh wait, maybe you’re projecting.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
LEON S. KENNEDY HATES BEING TIED DOWN. He despises commitments with passion. Almost pukes at the mere mention of it, actually. He doesn’t do all that lovey-dovey shit. He isn’t clingy—hates to be that person, in fact. He likes being alone, surrounded by his thoughts. That’s his favorite pastime, actually. He—okay, what the fuck. Who wrote this? This script is wrong. Someone is getting fired.
The air in the dining room feels light. Comfortable. The rays of the sun softly peeking through, the birds by the windows singing their hearty tune, and Leon taking care of you, just as usual. You like this routine: drinking coffee while chatting with your favorite person, just as the sun rises like a beautiful backdrop.
“Let’s make us official.”
You almost spat your coffee, heart suddenly—violently—hammering inside your ribcage, begging to be let out. You think it’s palpitations. The iced Spanish latte does its job at roughhousing your nervous system to the point that you think you’re hallucinating shit at like 7:46 am in the morning. You’re not equipped with the right knowledge for this conversation. It feels like your cells just burst.
“W-what?” You replied, with all the neurons and brain cells working overtime. They’re like three combined, so it’s not really that hard of a job when all you could think about was Katseye’s Gnarly chorus on loop. And maybe your hot-fucking-childhood-best-friend-that-acts-more-like-a-boyfriend-than-best-friend-but-you-digress.
“I mean, we’re not blind. As much as we’d like to deny it, we can’t run away from this conversation forever.” If there was hesitation in Leon’s voice, you couldn’t pinpoint it. And if his hands were mildly trembling beneath the surface of the table, you couldn’t see it. But you’d be damned if you couldn’t feel the tension rapidly resurfacing while the conversation continued.
“I can run away right now.”
“Sweets.”
“Lee.”
Leon sighed, as if he could already feel a headache coming. “I can catch you.”
“I’ll run even faster.” See, your tongue is your greatest enemy here.
“You talk too much.”
“You can shut me up.”
You knew someday that your sharp tongue would be the death of you. You got into so much trouble as a child because of it. Your aunties and uncles often get offended by your blunt words, while your little cousins seem to enjoy it. Your parents often scolded you, urging you to school your sharp tongue and witty replies, specifying it’ll bite you in the ass in the future. You didn’t give a fuck. Little you know who you were from a very young age.
You knew, and you were well-aware.
You just didn’t expect to be bitten right now.
Not that you would complain—oh god, no. You’d die happily.
“What?”
“What?”
Leon was staring at you as if he’d like to do exactly that. You don’t blame him—you’d like to do exactly that, too. You’re just… scared.
Scared to lose him.
Scared to lose the sacred friendship you built since you were in literal diapers.
Scared to mess it up so bad, you’d break up.
Scared to fuck it up, he’d end up lea—
“Whatever you’re thinking of, stop. It won’t happen.” Leon suddenly spoke up, looking at you, even if you avoided it. You hate how he knows you like the back of his hand.
Then, he sighed. Leaning closer towards you, hovering his hand over yours. He doesn’t touch, no. He waits. Patiently. “I won’t let it.” He said, barely a breath louder.
Oh, how you hate how easily he makes your resolve crumble.
You’d pity yourself if only you weren’t exactly where you want to be.
You took a deep breath, looking at his eyes after, letting your fears swirl in your irises and baring your emotions in front of him. It’s just… you weren’t used to being vulnerable, okay? Not when you’ve forced yourself into accepting whatever the fuck life throws in your way, simply choosing to laugh it off rather than to mope somewhere all day.
But this? This sudden vulnerability? This sudden confession—no, it never really was sudden. It had been subtle, yes, but you really shouldn’t have been surprised. You’ve been tiptoeing around—crossed, even—the friendship boundary roughly about a few years ago, after that incident in damned Raccoon City.
Now for the record, choosing to go with Leon to venture to that place was on you. You knew he’d be fucked up, being blacked out drunk the night prior—you would know, you were with him at the bar. You get it, the night he just wanted to forget being dumped by his asshole ex. And well, maybe you just wanted to go to RC because you were curious about his workplace, okay? Sue you for being nosy.
You just haven’t expected it to be, for lack of better terms, infested with rotting undead corpses who wanted you for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert.
That definitely wasn’t how you wanted to start your Monday.
“Leon, I…” You felt your nails digging through your palm, leaving crescent indents. It grounded you. “I want to, I really fucking do. I don’t think I have to confess when I’ve always been obvious.” Something dripped, maybe it was crimson from your hands or clear from your eyes. “I’m just scared. So fucking scared.”
You couldn’t face him, swallowed by your cowardly brain, and yet, you couldn’t stop your mouth from speaking every unsaid thought that plagued you. It has a mind of its own.
“I’m scared. What if you wake up one day and realize that I wasn’t the one you’d like to spend your future with? What if you realize that you just settled for the safest option? Because I’m not her, I will never be her—god, fuck! I wanted to be her, but fuck my life, I’m not. I could never do the things she could—I’m basically useless without you. What if I fuck this up? Fuck it up so bad, I’d lose you?”
You were spiraling. Your mind was clouded, as if the dam had been broken and every word was just falling out uncontrollably.
“I like you. No, fucking hell, that’s lackluster. I’m fucking in love with you, and I hate that my stupid brain keeps spewing nonsense and my mouth couldn’t fucking shut up and it’s exposing me!”
And finally, god, finally. Your eyes finally darted at him.
He didn’t look surprised. God, no. It’s so much worse.
He looked soft. As if something unbelievable finally happened. As if he were just waiting for those words to come out of your damn mouth.
“You’re in love with… me?” Leon uttered—no, it was barely a whisper. It was disbelief and relief, all at once. Packaged like a buy-one-get-me-free sale. His soft cerulean eyes were shining with something suspiciously akin to unshed tears. It was apparent, even if he was looking far from you, staring at his now-empty cup and leftover ice.
“Was that all you’ve heard?” While you, you were puzzled. You knew he was a little fucked up, but damn, all those ramblings and that’s all he registered?
As if finally collected his bearings, Leon looked at you, fighting that watery smile that didn’t seem to get off, no matter how hard he tried. “It was all that mattered.” He choked out, biting his lip as a tear finally dropped.
And another.
Then another.
Until it flowed freely like a beautiful waterfall.
“I couldn’t care less. Shit, I just wanted you.” Leon rasped, “Fucking hell, all I’ve ever wanted—no, needed was you.” Trembling, his hands grasped yours, engulfing them whole. He traced little shaky hearts, his fingers still absentmindedly trembling as he stared at your skin, shying away from your gaze.
“All you, Sweets. Always you.” He lifted your hand, prompting it to cup his cheek. With his eyes closed, he melted into your warmth, exhaling a stuttered breath before looking into your eyes. “Always had been, always will be.”
It was whispered.
The promise.
Barely above a whisper.
But the devotion was loud.
Too fucking loud, it echoed through your heart, silencing your stupid brain’s unnecessary provocations.
“You dumb fuck.” You croaked. Before swiftly crossing the table to suffocate in his embrace. You hugged him like he was your lifeline, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his stupefying scent.
Leon did the same, nosing your hair and pulling you to his lap. His head was filled with nothing but you, his arms wrapped in you like a warm cocoon. Peppering light kisses, while his hands fiddled with the ends of your hair, tracing feather-light patterns on your clothed skin. “Your dumb fuck, I suppose?”
“Mine.” You replied, cheekily pecking his neck, feeling the goosebumps run through his spine. “You learn fast.”
“Mhm, shut up.”
Then suddenly, his hand was on your cheek, guiding you towards his plush lips. And damn, you fucking melted, your lips moved as if you were already accustomed to his, moving in sync, like a mad rhythm waiting to be played. The kiss was tender, full of longing and secret devotion shared. It felt like whiskey, something strong, harsh yet addicting. It was heavy with regret—regret of why you haven’t done this much sooner, how you’ve lasted this long without each other’s constant touch, when you’ve realized all you needed was each other, and what’s stopping you from fully destroying the quote-unquote bounder-less boundaries you’ve been too afraid to fully cross.
And was quickly replaced by need—full hunger that aches to restore time that was lost. There was heat when he parted your mouth with his tongue, curling around yours like a waltz that seeks to devour you whole. Your throat bubbles with whines you don’t even bother suppressing, because he drank it with vigor. He kisses you like he was starved, tongue fondling with yours, curling and stroking until your head was fucked and air was a foreign concept for losers.
You felt his large hands grope your ass, snaking down to grab a hold of your thighs, manhandling you so you’re straddling him, clothed drenched cunt to clothed hard cock. It made you whimper, embarrassing sounds escaping your lips while he rolled his hips, catching your clit. Writhing in his hold, your mouth left his as you tugged his shirt, signaling that you want it gone.
He obliged with a husky chuckle, “Impatient, aren’t you? My needy baby.” Leon’s voice dropped an octave lower, swiftly pulling his shirt off to reveal his muscular build. Before your head could catch a fraction of what you were doing, your hands were already tracing his sculptured lines. Nimble hands flying from the sides of his neck, lightly circling his pebbled nipples (which made him stutter a breathless gasp), dropping lower to his chiseled abs, feeling the deep ridges and subtly grinding on his hard cock.
“F-fuck, sweets. Like what you see?”
“Very.”
Oh, maybe you shouldn’t have done that.
Because suddenly, you’re very afraid of what will happen next.
Maybe your legs would cease to work.
Maybe your voice would refuse to come out.
Maybe his cock would be wrung dry.
And maybe you’d like that.
Leon groaned in response, hauling you up with one arm while his other arm busied itself gripping the back of your scalp, under your soft hair, pulling you closer as his tongue bullied yours yet again. Your arms flew to his neck, inching yourself even closer as you felt him move—walking to what you would assume to be your bedroom.
Plopping you down on your bed, you bounced twice—twice too long for Leon, apparently, as he found himself in between your thighs, rip, rip, ripping your clothes to shreds. His hand found purchase in your bra, swiftly unhooking it with a snap. It would’ve been impressive if not for his tongue immediately lapping your pebbled nipple, calloused hand playing and massaging the other one.
“Fuck, baby,” he panted, sucking lazy kisses that would for sure bruise. “Y’taste too sweet. Shit, you really are my sweets.” Then, you felt a hazy, sharp pain, looking down to see a bite mark right before your areola—all red and new as he stares at you with hooded eyes. Cerulean eyes that seemed to deepen with each passing second, pupils all blown out and dilated as if you were the only drug he’s willing to indulge in.
Then, he switched to your other nipple, slobbering and giving it the same attention as the other one. Little zigzags as his tongue traced your areola to your hardened nipple. Fuck, it was a mess of spit and bites as he sucked wet kisses down your stomach, fiddling the strings of your sleep shorts and tugging them down with the patience of a saint—well, if the saint was being chased by a rather aggressive wolf in a two-by-two world build.
“Fuckin’ look amazing, gorgeous.” Leon huffed, kissing the side seams of your panties and lifting your thigh, placing it on his broad shoulder, his face lightly pressing your inner thighs as he scattered wet kisses—his light stubble scratching you involuntarily, arching your back with light whines.
His warm puffs of breath tickled you, moaning as your fingers travel to his scalp. “S-stop teasing m—” You stuttered, before a sharp whine catches on the back of your throat.
Fuck, it was hot. His warm tongue lapped the gusset of your drenched panties, tasting you just from the fabric. Desperate licks as he sucked, blunt nails digging through your thighs as your arousal seeps through the ruined cloth. Then, his lips found purchase on your clothed (almost transparent) clit, sucking and sucking with the scratchy—wet—fabric adding the stupefying sensations.
The room was filled with your ah-ah-ah!’s while Leon was having the time of his life in between your legs. It wasn’t until you heard a small rip-rip-rip until ypu realized that oh! you’re fucked.
Leon groaned, immediately devouring your fucking pussy. “Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart. Y’ve been keeping t’is from me?” He slurred, tracing your folds with his tongue, fucking you with zigzags that ranged from lazy to vigorous spurts of energy. He eats you out like he was starved and you were the only meal he needed to survive. He flicked his tongue on your clit, swirlin’ and sucking, then going back to your drippy hole where he collects your sweet fuckin’ sap. “Shit—haah—so fuckin’ wet for me—juuuust for me, sweets?”
“C’mon, baby. Gimme more, yeah? Fuuuuuck, y’can gimme more.” Leon rasped, greedily sucking your twitchy, engorged clit, then switching to tongue-fuck your drippy hole, curling and stroking your stretchy walls. While you? You were (s)creaming, throat scratchy with strings of curses, with drool collecting on the corner of your lips—precisely why you barely registered his thick finger entering you, stretching your poor pussy out while his tongue continued to abuse your poor clit. “P-please.”
The burn was insane—insanely fucking delicious, your head was swarming with dizzying pleasure. “F—s-shit, m-more—mhmn—a-aah!” You don't even remember what you were doing, barely even remembering your name. All you could think about was Leon, Leon, Leon.
You felt another finger, scissoring, curling inside your gummy walls. Reaching into the depths of your spongy weakness—making you scream, thrashing into his hold to the point that he has no choice but to wrap his strong arm around your abdomen to halt your involuntary actions.
And then another.
Three fingers, knuckles deep, assaulting your insides—hammering into your fucking g-spot, while his tongue continues to suck the living soul out of your poor hypersensitive nub.
“S-shit, ‘m close—fuuuuuck—‘m close!” You rasped, tugging Leon’s soft locks as your body convulsed—unravelling, coming undone. Eyes rolling back to the back of your skull until all you could see was white, and the coil on your abdomen violently snapping as liquids flew like a damn waterfall.
And Leon? Yeah, he wasn’t done. Still lapping your juices as you spill it all out. Even after your high was released, his mouth was still moving, still making out with your oversensitive pussy, still greedily sucking your juices, even if you tried to pull away, running from his strong embrace. God, no. He just pulls you back even closer, burying his nose in your clit while his tongue circles your hole.
He’s determined to fuck your brains out so good, you’d stop thinking of pointless possibilities that would never fucking happen as long as he’s alive. Why would he think about other women when he’s got you splayed out for him like a fucking five-course meal, just his for taking? Why would he think about the irrelevant fucking future when his past and present were spent with you? All you, baby. All fucking you.
“Oh, fuck—Leon—!!”
Did he say that out loud? Because by the look of it, he did. Your glassy, heart eyes say it so.
“Like that, sweets? That I’m aaaaaall yours? Yeah?” Leon grunts, standing up so he could hover over you, kissing you, all spit, come, and tongue. His tongue—god, his tongue, you love his fucking tongue—coiled around yours. Fucking your mouth while his hand unbuckled his belt, tugging off his pants in a swift motion. You caught sight of his drenched boxers, spurts of wetness visible through the grey fabric. It made you whine on his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as you basked in the sensation.
“Bet you fuckin’ loved that, didn’t you, sweetheart? Loved the fact that I came untouched by eating you out, mhm?” He whispered on your lips, slightly pulling away as his lips reattached to your neck, sucking and kissing deep reds and purples once more. “Didn't even need to grind, fuck, y’r cunt’s allll I need, baby. Drives me fuckin’ insane.”
Just as quickly, you felt something hard and hot pulsing on your fluttering cunt. Blinking—willing your eyes to open, you saw his massive cock—long, pretty, veiny and fucking girthy as you swallowed dry. Shivers traveled down your spine, suddenly very fuckin’ afraid if it’ll even fit.
Leon chuckled, as if sensing your hesitation. His hand moved to cup your cheek while his other traced circles in your hips, grounding you. “It’ll fit, baby. I’ll make it fit.” His tone was soft, his thumb caressing your cheek as he wills you to look at his eyes—but damn, his words were nasty. “Gonna make sure y’r head’s full of my cock, my pretty baby. Y’like that?”
See, you would’ve responded. All sweet and high-pitchy. Instead, moans were the only thing that left your lips when you felt his cock nudge your outer lips, teasing your cunt as you felt Leon spreading your legs further, bullying your cunt until his tip finally fuckin’ entered your stretchy hole.
“F-fuhck! Mhmnn—!!” You stuttered, already feelin’ fucking full. Still too hypersensitive from your earlier release. “S’jus the t-tip?”
It made Leon puff out a breathy chuckle, moving his hips little by little, small thrusts to fit snugly inside you. “Y-yeah, baby. Still jus’ the tip. ‘m sure y’can fit more inches here, yeah?” He drawled out, his fingers tracing to what he would assume to be where his dick would fit. “J-jus’ tell me if y’need a break, ‘kay?”
Then he thrusts, parting your gummy walls, impaling you with his thick, veiny cock fully. And you did nothing but take it, enjoying every second of being fucked dumb by Leon and hearing his damn cute whines. He wasn't afraid to be vocal, oh god no. He was loud. Groaning with each mean thrust on your cunt—whining as he repeatedly pounds your g-spot, making you drool on your sheets.
“Y-yeah? L-like that, baby? Oh fuuck—” Cutting himself off with a groan, he felt you clench—squeezing his damn cock so tight, he had to will himself not to cum that fast. “Sweet girl, you're—ngh—y’r fuckin’ suffocatin’ me.”
You did nothin’ but whimper, and he did nothin’ but take you to pound town.
Leon’s stamina was more than fucking impressive; his unrelenting thrusts were constant and damn consistent, roughly loving and disrespecting you all at the same time. You felt stuffed to the brim with his thick shaft, his calloused thumb traveling to rub mean circles on your clit as you moaned for mercy. The repeated plap-plap-plap of his skin slapping yours was nasty, and his erratic ministrations of your body felt like heaven. You think you could stay like this forever.
“Yeah, b-baby? Fuuuuuuckin’ think you could stay like t’is for—nghh!—forever?” He groaned at the shell of your ear, darting his tongue to flick at the sensitive lobe. “Think ‘m doin’ somethin’ wrong, y’shouldn’t be thinkin’ at alllll.” He croons, tone deep and mocking, manhandling your thighs, folding you in half.
“Wha—Lee!! Oh fuck, Leoooooon—!!” All you could do was squeak, your voice going an octave higher—something you didn’t even know you were capable of, as he jackhammers into your cunt. Fucking you senseless and so utterly stupid, abusing your spongy g-spot with precise thrusts. And you could only retaliate by fucking up his back, scratching while your back gives out.
You swore you heard him whimper in delight.
Your five senses consist of staring at Leon’s fucked out face, smelling Leon’s heady scent, tasting your cum and Leon’s saliva still on your lips, hearing Leon’s sharp grunts and gasps—occasionally his small whimpers as he hits a rather deep spot, and—fuck—feeling Leon’s thick cock spearheading your tight cunt, feeling him twitch as his veins tickled your insides.
Yeah, you won’t be walking, alright.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
LEON S. KENNEDY IS ALL OF THOSE THINGS, BUT MAYBE THERE MIGHT BE EXCEPTIONS (YOU).
“Fuck you, Kennedy. Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou!” You groaned, the feeling of your legs still not returning after a day and a half of full bed rest.
The person charged guilty was found chuckling, eating ice cream, and faaaaaar away from where your wrath could grasp him in the neck (he’d like that). “Ouch, babe. Kennedy? Seriously? Who’s that?”
Aaaaaand then ducking, as if he could already feel the pillow heading toward his head without directly looking at it.
“Fuck you and your stupid fucking stamina and your stupid fucking words—ugh! I am never sleeping with you ever again!”
“You kiss your boyfie with that potty mouth?” He whistled, “Damn.”
“Oh, you dick!” You threw him your plushy, the same thing he gave a few years ago—all purpley and stupid. Cute, but stupid.
“Nine inches, baby. And a grower—hey! Not my child.” Leon pouted, catching the plushy with both hands, then patting in the head as if it truly had feelings.
“Fuckin’ suffocate!”
“In those thighs? Bet.”
“Asshole—!!”
“We could try that, too.”
“Urgh!” You threw your hands up, huffing, as you slumped back in your (thank god wasn’t broken) bed.
imsorryimsorryimsorryiwantmore holy fuck i don't know what i wrote and in my defense, my hands started typing shit before i even realized what i was doing okay okay. (did u enjoy it tho? teehee) rbs and comms are greatly appreciated! i work well with praise wink wink wink
“Why do we have to do this?” he spoke, sitting on the toilet seat with you on his lap. You gently slid the razor against his foamed skin, making sure not to nick him. “It won’t kill you to shave every now and then, sweetheart. You’re a hot, old man, not a hot, old man,” you scoffed. “Besides, I don’t want it getting too long. I like the stubble,” you angled the razor again.
“Of course you do,” he grumbled. You gave him a grin and pecked his lips, wiping off the excess shaving cream. “We’re done. Look at you! All so smooth and young again,” you cupped his cheeks, pinching them teasingly. He glanced at himself in the mirror, a new, anxious glint in his eyes.
You sighed and your smile became reassuring and sympathetic, “We can’t change the past, Leon. Though, you can’t keep running from it either.” You redirected his focus to you, “I get why you don’t like it.”
He scoffed, “And why don’t I like it?”
You frowned.
“Because you still see the twenty-one year old back in Raccoon City in the mirror.”
He paused at your words. They had hit him deep within. Grazing a hatchet he claimed he had buried decades ago.
Sighing, you came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you pressed your forehead against his back. You stood there quietly, hugging and giving him comfort before speaking, “You can’t hide from yourself, Leon.”
You felt his hands shakily cradle yours, silently keeping you there, “I want to. I really fucking want to.” Your grip tightened around him as you listened. “I know I can’t,” he whispered.
“Don’t worry,” you whispered against him. “I’m here for you. I’m always here for you, sweetheart,” you mumbled reassuringly.
“It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”
Leon shakily stared at the ruins of RPD in front of him, hearing your words echo through his mind like a constant chime. The past was hitting him hard, and you weren’t there to physically talk him through it.
His hand shakily dug into his pocket, staring at a crinkled photo of you two together. His breathing evened out as tension turned into determination. He wasn’t going to give up now.
He was going to come back to you. Even if it meant chasing his past to hold you again.
Summary: Leon can handle many things, but an angry wife isn't one of them.
a/n: One-shot based on this request.
You were fuming, your hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles had gone pale as you drove to Leon’s workplace.
Usually, your mornings started perfectly. Your husband always made sure to give you a kiss before leaving, promising to be home early. And before he walked out the door, he always fed Turkey.
Yes, Turkey - your baby German Shepherd, who was incredibly well-behaved and loved the both of you more than anything.
No matter how stressful life got or how urgent an emergency meeting was, the two of you always made time to feed Turkey.
The rule was simple: whoever woke up first fed Turkey.
And it had worked flawlessly… until today.
You were suddenly woken by a soft, pitiful whimper beside the bed.
Groaning, you turned over and looked down. There he was - Turkey, the adorable dog Leon had gotten you for your birthday. But this time, he looked devastated. Betrayed, even.
You immediately sat up and pulled him into your lap. “What happened?” you asked, rubbing his head.
Turkey gave you one tragic look, then launched himself off the bed and sprinted out of the room.
Since he wasn’t the type to cry unless something was genuinely wrong, you followed him downstairs in alarm.
He led you straight into the kitchen.
And there, the horrifying truth became clear.
Not only had Leon forgotten to kiss you…
He had forgotten to feed Turkey.
You hadn’t been this angry in a long time.
Still, you took the time to feed your poor, starving German Shepherd, who acted as though he hadn’t eaten in years. Then you grabbed your car keys and stormed out of the house.
“Unbelievable…” you muttered under your breath. “He forgot to feed Turkey.”
The entire drive, you stayed furious, honking at anyone who so much as breathed incorrectly near your car.
When you finally parked, you marched into the building like a woman on a mission.
Your footsteps practically shook the lobby floor as you stomped toward the elevator, tapping your foot impatiently until the doors opened.
Around you, DSO agents whispered nervously.
“What’s she doing here?”
“Doesn’t Mrs. Kennedy have the day off?”
“She looks mad. I’m scared for whoever caused that.”
The elevator doors slid open, and you stepped inside, immediately pressing the button for the floor where Leon’s meeting was being held.
You were so focused on your rage that you barely noticed the four people already inside with you.
Since everyone was headed to the floors above, the ride took a while. You stood there in complete silence, staring straight ahead like vengeance itself.
“Is she okay?” Chris whispered, leaning down so only the three others could hear him.
It had been a while since he’d seen you this angry, and frankly, he valued his safety.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen her this mad,” Jill murmured, sneaking glances in your direction while pretending not to.
“I’m betting this is because of Leon,” Sheva said, leaning casually against the wall as she studied your expression.
“How are you so sure?” Chris asked.
“And how much?” Jill added immediately.
“A hundred dollars,” Sheva replied. “She’s too quiet. Usually when she’s mad, she's quite vocal. If she’s silent, it’s serious. That means it's Leon.”
Jill shook her hand. “I say it’s something else.”
“Shouldn’t we have gotten off at floor twenty-eight?” Chris asked suddenly, staring at the panel.
They were already at thirty-four.
Getting closer, Rebecca pointed at the two women, now deeply invested in their wager.
“We should follow them,” she whispered. “In case something goes wrong. Also… I want to know why she’s mad.”
Without a word, Chris nodded and slowly pulled out his phone to text Leon. 'Hey, did you do something wrong this morning?'
The second he sent the text, the elevator doors opened. You marched out and stomped straight toward the meeting room.
The four agents followed silently behind you like nosy backup dancers.
They watched as you reached the door - and kicked it open so hard it nearly made them all wince.
Everyone inside the meeting room jumped and turned toward the entrance.
There you stood.
In your pajamas.
With house slippers on.
“Mrs. Kennedy,” one of the higher-ups said carefully, “I thought we gave you the day off?”
You ignored him completely and marched forward until you stood directly in front of your husband.
“Leon Scott Kennedy!”
The sheer fury in your voice silenced the entire room.
Leon’s eyes widened in immediate horror.
“Forgetting my morning kiss was your first mistake,” you said, pointing at him while placing your other hand on your hip. “But I could’ve overlooked that.”
The room remained deathly still.
“But forgetting to feed our child?” you continued. “That is unforgivable!”
Everyone gasped.
Except Leon, who leaned back in his chair like a man accepting his fate.
“They have a child?” Rebecca whispered.
Sheva silently held out her hand toward Jill.
With a sigh, Jill slapped the money into it.
“It was a pleasure doing business with you,” Sheva smirked.
“B-baby, I really didn’t mean to,” Leon stammered.
You cut him off immediately.
“You forgot to give Turkey his food! How heartless can you be?”
Now the room looked deeply confused.
Besides you and Leon.
“Their child is called Turkey?” Chris asked, horrified.
No one answered him.
“You and I made a rule,” you continued. “Whoever gets up first feeds Turkey! Our little German Shepherd was practically crying!”
A chorus of relieved “Ohhhhhh” filled the room.
Everything made sense now.
“Maybe we should leave,” a higher-up muttered, already backing toward the door.
The rest quickly followed.
As the four agents turned to leave, Leon looked at them with the most desperate expression imaginable.
“Your fault,” Sheva said flatly before walking out.
The others followed.
“Traitors,” Leon muttered.
“Are you even listening?!” you snapped.
“Yes, I am, love of my life!” Leon said instantly.
Synopsis: How could your heart allow you to hurt him?
TWs: Age gap relationship, implied financial dependency/sugar-dynamic undertones, emotional manipulation (unintentional but present), intense guilt and self-loathing, themes of loneliness and abandonment, terminal illness references (hospice/cancer), fear of future isolation, possessive romantic language, psychological distress and crying.
Winter nights weren't something to be remembered with a smile.
Outside the hospital lay a road straight to the iridescent part of town; the one that didn't color pallid of work and pressure that belonged to a twenty-five year old woman crushed by her need to survive in a machine of education and femininity. tuition debt, clinical rotations, clawing stress and lack of sleep held your shoulders back, heavy like a cross you were forced to bear so gently. You don't recall the exact moment in which you disclosed anything about all the exhaustion, but he seemed to get the gist every time.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear. His Porsche appeared in front of you after a wait that didn't take long. I want you safe, night isn't safe for you at all, darling. he'd always say.
The passenger's seat window lowered, his face, tired even with a light smile on “Get in, dear”
There was something about the ‘darlings’ and ‘dears’ he calls you— they fell like feathers to the breeze and melted to your senses as sugar in water, not in a sense of faux dalliness and surely neither of stroking a pet, Mr.Kennedy was too earnest for any tricks.
You unlocked the door and carefully sat, reaching to place your bag near your feet till he took it from your hand and put it in the back seat, kinder on the object more than you'd ever be.
“How was your day?” asked he, a blush of care.
“Long” you answered, looking back at the spot you waited for him in “Exams after two weeks”
“Have you studied for them?”
“Not yet” you weren't in a mood for talking, not out of being upset or angry, but where silence made you rest. Your eyes followed a stray star across the sky's page, it appeared then disappeared, mirroring a shadow on cloudy days. In hospice, there was this old man in the last stage of cancer and out of this world's worries, there was no one to visit him, nor did he seem to have anyone remembering him. It was odd— a man with acres of land and a respective generational wealth slipping away at common care? wouldn't you believe it if you hadn't seen his file.
“Are you alright?”
You nearly jumped, answering after gaining some composure “I am, don't worry”
“You're quiet. Is something bothering you?”
“Nothing at all” you drew a smile to ease him “I promise you, Mr.Kennedy—”
“Leon, darling.” He interrupted, light eyes giving you a warning “We've talked about this more than I could count.”
“Sorry, Leon” His name didn't belong in your tongue, it had a weight you couldn't carry; perhaps it was promising, or something as serious as commitment. It made your skin crawl and everyday, you fought the urge to block him and vanish, but you were too cowardly for that— you were a coward to think of doing that from the first place, confrontation is your worst nightmare.
“Have you eaten? Did something happen? Do you need more money?” he inquired, each firmer than the former “Are you sure you don't need anything?” bless his heart, he's feeding his blood to the leech on his wound with a smile. jumped back to your consciousness the image of the old man in the hospice, a nurse told you he used to be the Adonis of his time: adored, seen, surrounded by many but loved by none. He dwelled in his bed, either staring at the window or watching others’ loved ones tend to them in visits, stealing whatever crumbs from their little meetings, a makeshift happiness which crumbled at first memory of the past. you wondered: could've been there, at least one person, who'd seen him for who he was, not for what he could offer? you can't judge them, however, you see Mr.Kennedy's favors and cash only and no amount of guilt can change the fact that you are a disgusting parasite.
Warmth pooled under your eyelids: Mr.Kennedy is too kind to be abandoned, yet staying with him knowing that you don’t love him will hurt him even more. There were nights when fragments of confessions passed his lips; about his life, how he survived a disaster two decades ago, how he was left behind by someone he loved only to realize it was all fake. This man near you deserved the world and all he was given was cosmic abuse. How could you?
His hand wiped your cheek— you didn't feel your own tears till now. your mind poured salt over the cut; showing you an image of a very old Mr.Kennedy —older than he is now—, lonely, heavily ill, only the company of the many faces that left years ago and never came back.
One of them could be yours.
He'd reflect what was between you: it should be a student using him to pay all her debts, but all he saw was a chance at loving life again: a young woman he never imagined he'd swoon, an angel that chose to land on his shoulder, a true love. a tear would roll down his cheek, a smile would adorn his lips, then— a slipping into a stray world where there was no return.
As you wept at what your imagination had to paint, you felt his arms enveloping you, warm and tight, not a speck of mischief or deception in the gesture, genuine as the sun.
And you dare play victim too.
“Don't cry, love…” he whispered into your hair “I promise everything will be okay. As long as I'm by your side, you don't have to worry about anything”
A sob tore your chest. The scent of him; unmistakably cologne and a hue of warmth that you didn't deserve, the beats of his heart against your ear, ever so soft and containing. Only if he'd been rougher or more arrogant, this would've made you feel better about yourself.
He planted a soft kiss on your crown “I'll never let you go, not in this life, not in the next…”
re2!leon s. kennedy , who is still getting used to being loved so openly, blinking in surprise every time you do something small for him like it’s the greatest gift he’s ever received.
re2!leon s. kennedy , who instinctively reaches for your hand in crowded places, thumb rubbing slow circles against your skin like he needs the reminder that you’re right there.
re2!leon s. kennedy , who falls asleep faster when you’re near, even if he insists he’s “not tired”, his grip tightening just a little once he finally drifts off.
re2!leon s. kennedy , who brings his jacket for you even when it’s warm out, swearing it’s “no big deal” while absolutely freezing without it.
re2!leon s. kennedy , who gets shy when you watch him do mundane things like tying his shoes or brushing his teeth, asking why you’re staring with that soft smile.
re2!leon s. kennedy , who remembers the smallest details about you, how you take your coffee, what songs calm you down, the exact way you like to be held when you’re upset.
re2!leon s. kennedy , who lets out quiet laughs against your neck when you ramble, not because it’s funny but because he loves hearing you talk.
re2!leon s. kennedy , who double checks that the doors are locked before bed, then checks again, then relaxes only once you’re safely curled up beside him.
re2!leon s. kennedy , who practices what he wants to say to you in the mirror but ends up blurting it out awkwardly anyway, ears turning red when you smile at him.
re2!leon s. kennedy , who brings you along on late night drives just to talk, the radio low, his focus split between the road and the sound of your voice.
re2!leon s. kennedy , who kisses you like he’s grounding himself, slow and careful, like he’s afraid the moment might disappear if he rushes it.
re2!leon s. kennedy , who keeps your spare key on a separate keyring, checking his pocket constantly to make sure it’s still there.
re2!leon s. kennedy , who struggles with nightmares but never feels embarrassed waking you up, because your presence is the fastest way to remind him he’s safe. (mostly for post!re2!leon, tho ive heard hes had a sad upbringing idk lol, criminal parents?? someone fact check me pls)
re2!leon s. kennedy , who looks at you like he’s still surprised you chose him, like every day with you is something he quietly promises not to waste.
