𑜷 fem!reader :: reader is sheltered, religious abuse (this includes hatred upon religion from jeff & myself), reader’s father is extremely traditional and controlling, likely ooc :: art is from shatteredankles on insta
she was twenty and still living at home. her father screamed when her skirts were too short and when her tank-tops were too low. he screamed when she dared not wear that crucifix around her neck. when she wore too much makeup, he would mutter about how she would never find a godly husband with “all that shit on your face.”
god controlled her life. everything she ate, how she behaved, how she spoke, how she dressed—everything. her only escape was her walks. she would take the family dog—a large, old doberman named donnie—on walks through the forest.
she went on these walks at sunset, as it would tire both her and donnie out. she wandered deep, but she remained on the trail. one evening, donnie suddenly stopped—ears raised as he stared off into the distance. she flicked on her flashlight finally, shifting it to where donnie was looking.
a figure stood amongst the trees, watching. and, being the innocent little thing she was, her immediate thought was: they must be lost.
“hello?” she called softly, “are you hurt?”
“nah,” a voice called back, rough and low. some of the men at her church sounded like that—her mama always told her that it was because they smoked like chimneys.
“why are you out so late?” she asked, walking towards him—moving from the path.
“could ask you the same fucking thing,” he retorted sharply.
“i’m walking my dog,” she replied with a happy smile.
“this late? and alone?”
“yeah, only time i can be alone,” she muttered.
donnie growled as the man began walking closer, but she merely tugged his leash gently. when the man came into view, she tensed.
his skin was stark white, hair long and dark. his eyes were a bit bloodshot, which only made the blue of his irises pop. around them was dark, like he had smudged ash or dark eyeshadow around them. then her eyes found his mouth. that smile, carved into his cheeks. the slits were somewhat neat, though the scabbing and scarring made them look rough. his actual lips were cracked, some sections raw from where skin had been ripped off. piercings—obviously unprofessionally done—covered his ears. three barbells pierced the bring of his nose and curved barbells pierced each of his eyebrows. his lower lip was pierced on both sides, small spike studs glinting in the light of the flashlight.
her father would have began screaming at him—insisting he would burn in hell for what he looks like. he would pull her away, saying that man was possessed. but to her? he was beautiful. he was himself. she looked almost amazed as she stepped closer to him.
she ignored the blood on his hoodie, the old and fresh blood. he looked at her oddly. most would have run screaming—which he enjoyed—and others would pass out from fear. but her, this girl with a crucifix around her neck? she approached fearlessly, consumed by curiosity.
suddenly, a shouted rattled the forest.
“[+], get your ass back here now! the devil will get you if you’re out too late!” her father demanded.
her face fell. she looked at the man once more.
“my name’s [+], by the way,” she told him as she began slowly backing away, back towards the path.
“jeff,” he replied smoothly.
“bye!” she called as she headed down the path. and, for once, he didn’t chase. he could tell she was sheltered and, from her father’s words, that she was confined by religion. he’d save her.
he started lingering near the trail nightly, waiting for her. instead of walking, she’d stop to talk to him. she shared how her father treated her and her mother, how he would berate her for wearing something ungodly, how he would called her a whore for wearing too much makeup. she told him how she questioned her religion often, but she was terrified to speak of it.
he listened, and his rage boiled hotter with each story. he told her things that she never got the chance to learn—scientific things. how humans evolved, how life was made, and much, much more. he even taught her sexual education—as she knew nothing of it. she knew she had a vagina and that she bled from it monthly and that she, and anything she wore or touched, was unclean. he taught her what happened and why it happened. he taught her about the act of sex itself, and the true meaning of consent. she had been told that her husband would be able to do whatever he wanted to her, whenever he wanted because she would be his to rule over. jeff told her that was wrong—no matter who the person was, a no meant no. he told her that coercion was not truly consent. he started doing homework like he was in middle school again, trying to find everything he could to teach her about the real world—outside of the damn church.
he was a sick fuck—he knew that—but this was sicker. he took every chance he got to mutilate people like her father, people who were like the husband her father insisted she would have.
she sobbed to jeff one evening, saying her father had found her a man that she would marry. she told of how he was older—disgustingly so—and how he looked at her like an object and treated her like a maid. she was petrified.
“tonight, sleep with ear plugs in, and keep the mutt in your room,” he told her.
“why?” she asked. she had learned quite a bit, but she still had her moments of obliviousness.
“you’ll find out later, ‘kay? have your shit packed, too,” he stated.
she obeyed. not out of fear, but trust. she slept with donnie in her bed and ear plugs in that night. she didn’t stir until she was shaken softly. above her, jeff stood—fresh blood smattered on his face and soaking that hoodie.
“get your shit,” he stated. she quickly scrambled from bed, grabbing her suitcase stuffed full of her most valued belongings. she put donnie’s leash on him, and let jeff lead her from her home. he kept a rough, warm hand over her eyes until they were on the porch.
the walk was peacefully quiet. she was free. he brought her to the mansion and led her up to his room, ignoring the odd stares the others gave him. he kicked his door shut behind them.
“we’ll get you your own room soon, gotta get shit for it,” he muttered as he sat on his bed.
“thank you,” she murmured as she sat down with him. she unclasped her crucifix necklace. she had always been told only god could save her, yet here she was—saved by a man that god would hate.
jeff snatched it, throwing it out the open window. she giggled, receiving a faint smirk from him.
antitheist jeff believers pls rise (lwk also js me spewing abt how i think religion is bs and incredibly harmful)
sum; leon and his wife, who he just missed so goddamn much and couldn't properly love because of the T-Virus, so now it's his job to remind her what she does to him
content; unprotected sex, multiple rounds, creampie, kinda gross cum stuff, cum eating, spit & cum swapping like w a kiss???, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, squirting,
wc; 1.2k
a/n; oh how I yearn for re9!leon 😩 he's so sexy. this was honestly just a reason to get nasty and push myself to be more comfortable with being actually a little gross in my writing... pls tell me if this is too much. im afraid guys 😓
You forgot how you had gotten here—all bent in half and sobbing for him to slow down as he shoved your face into the pillows. One second, he was pulling you close and telling you about Elpis and how he's okay and how badly he missed you, the next he's got you completely lost with pleasure, his cum pumping into you for the second time tonight as your cunt practically choked his cock, having reached your third orgasm of the night.
He pulled out, only to roll you onto your back and push your legs up. You didn't even get a warning as his cock slipped back into you, resuming the brutal, rhythmic thrusts that were made easier by the nasty amount of cum and slick that were seeping out of your walls.
"Fuuck," he hissed, head falling back slightly. "Bet this pussy missed me, too, huh? Gonna make up for all the nights I missed. All the nights I left you frustrated 'cause I couldn't touch you right.. 'm gonna make up for it all night, baby. Promise." He panted, one hand coming down to your clit to lightly smack at the throbbing bud. Your thighs tried to squeeze shut, but he kept them open with one hand and his body in the way.
"Lee!" You cried, body twitching and shaking almost violently.
"Come on, don't tell me you can't take it. You've been perfectly healthy this whole time. You can't take cock like you used to?" He taunted, watching the embarrassment bloom on your cheeks.
"N-no, 's not that—fuck!—I just—" You gasped, back arching as his fingers began to strum steadily, harshly against your clit.
"You what? Poor baby can't even speak. Pussy's too busy swallowing my fuckin' cock. You gonna cry for my cock? Gonna cry while you cum?" He purred, his words harsh but sugar coated in his tone. You looked up at him, a whimper squeaking out before your head threw back again, eyes rolling back and crossing like some dirty porno from Leon's dreams when he was a rookie. He growled, hissing slightly with restraint.
"Ho—ooh, oh, shit!" You squealed, hands pawing and pushing and scratching at his chest and shoulders as you felt your orgasm approaching rapidly.
"Do it. Let me know I'm doing good. Didn't lose my spark, did I? I still know how to make my wife dumb for my dick, yeah?" Despite the dirty words, you detected a subtle and actual need for the reassurance. Given how long it'd been since you two were able to have normal penetrative sex, he had to make sure he still had his 'special touch' as he called it.
"Fuck! Fuck, 'm cumming!" You sobbed, body practically shrinking into the bed below as your entire body quivered and let loose, warmth gushing around his cock. He could feel your hole fluttering and pulsing, and his orgasm followed quickly. For the third time, a heavy load of cum spilled into you, his fat, hard tip kissing your cervix and pumping right against the limit. He panted. Finally, he showed some kind of shaking. His arms shook as he held himself above you, his breath hitching and faltering momentarily.
"'M sorry," he huffed, pulling back again, only to push his cock in once more. You whimpered, reaching desperately to grab at his wrist as he tapped and pinched lightly at your clit, eliciting a sound that approached a scream due to pure overstimulation.
"Leee," you sobbed, eyes rolling back. He halted for a moment, only to lift your legs over his shoulders. Your ankles linked together behind his head, and you yelped as his hands smacked against your thighs to hold you in place as he pumped his cock back and forth, heavy and mean with fat balls slapping against your ass.
"One more." He panted. "Fuck, just one more. One more, and I'll be all done. Just gotta make sure I make up for my fuck-ups." His fingertips dug into your thighs as he looked down at you, taking in the dazed, dumb, desperate look on your face. You were approaching your fifth orgasm—nearly four on his cock, the first one having been on his thick fingers. Despite the overwhelming sensations, pussy beyond raw, clit throbbing and twitching with every thrust, head lulled off to the side as you struggled to keep your eyes open even as his cock punched moans and mewls from your throat, your body jolting and jiggling with the thrusts.
With how overstimulated you were, how sensitive your body was, and the lack of breaks, it didn't take long to be on the brink of your orgasm again. A small, worried sob trickled from your throat, and Leon brought one hand to make you look at him.
"Lee, 's weird," you whined. "I-it feels funny again." You warned. Leon knew what that meant, and although he knew it embarrassed you, he had to push for it. He had to get you there. He had to finally earn his reward—with rapid strums of your clit, mean thrusts of his cock hitting your cervix, and mixing with the dirty words he let out, his reward came moments later.
Your vision blanked out and all you felt was full body tingling and warmth between your legs, liquid splattering back onto you as you finally squirted—the clear liquid spurting strong from your cunt and hitting his abdomen, dripping down his torso, another scream-like sound ripping from you as you pawed and tried desperately to grab onto him. He fucked you through it until the thick stream fell into a trickle as his own orgasm hit again. He rolled his eyes back, his final load less powerful but still enough to make you squirm.
Once your vision came back, your body relaxed, Leon eased your body down, shifting you so that you didn't lay in the mess you two had made. He pulled out, watching the nasty mess seep out, slipping down as your pussy pushed it out in thick globs. Your hole temporarily gaped from how long the penetration went on, and he didn't pass up the chance to lower himself as he held your hips up away from the mess. You didn't even notice him lowering until his lips were on your cunt, making you jolt and try to run from the sensation.
"'M cleaning my mess." He muttered, holding you in place as he used his tongue to clean you up. He knew it was beyond lewd, beyond gross, but he'd never be ashamed to admit that he liked to clean up the nasty mess that he'd make—a mix of your arousal and his cum, salty, almost tangy, and warm on his tongue. He kept true to his word—he didn't try to mess with your clit, ensuring his nose didn't nudge it, only licking up and suckling lightly to clean up the mess. At the end, he lapped at your folds and held some of the mess in his mouth before he crawled up your body and grabbed your face, leaning in for a kiss.
You whimpered, brows furrowing as you felt the swapping of spit, cum, and your own taste. It was nasty, but it made you quiver, your pussy twitching at the sensation. If you hadn't already cum five times, he would've easily gone again just to get rid of that twitching.
"I missed you." He panted, shifting off to the side as he pulled you to lay on top of him.
"Missed you, Lee." You breathed, quiet and shaky as you fell into his embrace.
gn Reader | can be read either platonic or hinting to future romance | not proofread
warnings: brief mentions of your death and James torturing/killing someone else
"Haven't I killed you somewhere before?"
Mr. March leaned over the small wooden table, scanning your all too familiar face yet unable to remember where he had seen you prior to this.
You quirk a brow at the man, thinking this was probably some kind of ruse to distract you since he had yet to win a single game.
No way he actually forgot...right?
James just kept staring at you quietly, his forehead wrinkling in deep concentration while the other half of his face remains hidden behind the numerous cards in his hands.
Damn, seems like you really left no impression at all.
"Nope" you answer flatly, "Someone else was faster. You were there when it happened, though."
That didn't seem to help, judging from his reaction. His cheeks puff up in a strained exhale, rummaging through a century worth of victims in his brain.
"Ah, yes..." He adds another card to his hand, musing. "That imbecile had no class in his methods. A shame, really."
James remembers his frustration when your life was drained from you before he could interfere. You were such a promising specimen too...
...at least the symphony of your perpetrator's agonized screams did not disappoint.
As if you could read his mind you let out a cogitous hum, some hint of amusement in your voice despite the grim topic. "Well, it was certainly an odd comfort to see what you did to him afterwards."
James' eyes narrow in confusion, a little taken aback by your misplaced gratitude. "You do understand that I intended to do the same, if not worse to you, right?"
You shrug. "Of course I know."
"So you're either foolish or insane" he comments your naiveté, defeatedly throwing his useless cards away in mild frustration. "Which one is it?"
"Probably both" you chuckle, contently leaning back in your chair. "But nothing really matters anymore, does it? We're dead."
"Indeed..." James taps the card deck onto the tabletop before mixing them once again. "I suppose you didnt come here to pass time in this limbo, then...but to thank me?
"That too, yeah" you fan yourself with the cards, trying to keep the abashed heat from spreading through your body. "I mean you're hardly a challenge, and a sore loser at that."
After Queenie was resurrected by otherworldly forces, you offered to take her place so awfully fast, it was like you had just been waiting for this opportunity. And James accepted right away, because there wasn't anything better to do anyways - and in all honesty, there was no one else willingly spending time with him.
And much to his surprise your company had been a pleasant experience so far. You even went out of your way calling him 'Sir'. It's been decades since he was adressed with the due respect he thought he deserved, and it didn't fail to make his chest swell with pride...
...not to mention a pretty face like yours was certainly a nice view to enjoy while playing.
Over the course of thousands of games though, your initial reservations slowly dissolved rather upfront conversations and occasional banter, you might even dare calling it friendship.
"Well then" he declares, a devious smirk bending his moustache. "For all it's worth I am very lucky that you have been killed on my premises, darling."
James tosses you the cards for the next round, reaching to cup your hand with his when you attempt to pick them up. He stands up, rounding the table to stand behind you, invading your personal space. You feel his face just inches from yours, his breath prickling against your ear raising goosebumps on your skin.
"Maybe we should play something else this time, spice things up a little..."
from jade: baby's first leon kennedy fic! 🥹 no beta, we all just die. wrote this with re4!leon, death island leon, and re9!leon in mind heh
dso’s golden boy, legendary agent leon scott kennedy is reduced to nothing but a human pillow. don’t fret, though. he’s exactly where he wants to be in life.
it’s no secret to anyone that leon kennedy has a physique that most women and men simp for. they can gawk however they like but touching him? that right is reserved for you and you only.
leon knows you’re a touchy person by default. first time he met you, he was immediately engulfed in the warmest hug known to mankind—his knees buckled just a little but that’s a secret he’ll take with him to the grave. when he drove you home after the first date? another hug and a kiss to the cheek that he felt even after days passed. he almost didn’t want to wash his face but thought about your preference for hygienic men.
after four years of dating and three months being engaged, your physical love meter has amped up intensely. before, the most he’ll get is a kiss to the corner of his mouth. now? leon’s lucky if he can even get up after getting mauled into the bed due to your sudden urge to “kiss him all over and eat him up and chew him all up.”
this leads us to now, early morning with the sun peeking through the blinds. leon insisted on a blackout curtain but your argument of “you can’t live in darkness forever” resulted in soft baby pink sheer flower patterned curtains.
it was one of those rare times where you awake earlier than him. to be fair, he just came back from a month-long mission in europe.
you’ve always known leon kennedy was pretty but in these instances of serenity and peace, he’s looking extra gorgeous under the warm sunlight. you lay on your front, head slumped over his stretched out bicep. your cheek is skin-to-skin with the muscle, firm yet comfortable. leon’s on his back, chest rising periodically in deep breaths.
glancing at the clock on the nightstand, you decide it’s time to wake him up. you turn your head, open your mouth, and then—bite. hard enough to jolt him awake but not so much that it bleeds out.
you grin as you watch him rub the sleep away from his eyes. “hi, baby. good morning.”
leon squints at you for a moment, still caught up somewhere between dreaming about flowers with faces chasing him and actually facing the prettiest flower ever (you), before he pinches your cheek.
then he registers the dull ache in his arm.
he stills, contemplating on whether to ask you about it or not. instead he settles for, "...mornin'.”
his voice comes out rough, just the right about of deepness and softness that makes your heart flutter. you lean forward to kiss his stubbled jaw.
the arm you were laying on slips under your shirt, calloused fingers caressing the smooth skin.
usually, leon’s internal clock is impossible to shut off, especially after a mission. years of training have hardwired him into waking up the second he’s conscious. most mornings, he’d already be halfway to the coffee machine by now.
instead, he lets his arm flop back onto the mattress, right in front of you. then stares blankly at the ceiling.
you blink. once. twice. "breakfast?”
a beat passes.
"later.”
the answer comes immediately, accompanied by a sleepy exhale.
leon scott kennedy, the man who survived thousands of bioweapons, government conspiracies, parasitic cults, and whatever the hell europe decided to throw at him this time, was choosing to stay in bed. voluntarily.
"i’m tired." his eyes remained at the ceiling.
there’s no complaint in his voice. just a simple statement of fact.
"you should rest, then.” you hummed. he curls his arm loosely around your shoulders in response. for a second there, leon thought he heard purrs of content from you. huh, he must still be dreaming.
you settle comfortably on your stomach again, phone balanced in front of you. your legs swing back and forth behind you as you load up your game, leon snickers at the sight.
a few seconds later, you lean down to take another bite of his bicep. not enough to hurt. never to hurt him.
leon sighs. “i feel like a chew toy.”
“you are. my chew toy.”
“is that all i am to you?”
“most times, yeah.” and another bite. it doesn’t even faze him anymore.
“love you too, i guess.”
“aw, thank you, lord kennedy.”
you grin triumphantly before returning your attention to your phone. one hand taps away at the screen while your cheek remains pressed against his arm like it’s the world’s most comfortable pillow. the 4000 dollars pillow currently on the floor glares at you with scorn and betrayal.
every now and then, you absentmindedly nibble at him. to which, he retorts with faux annoyance.
the room falls quiet after that.
only the sounds of your game, the rustle of sheets, and the occasional bite to his arm interrupt the silence.
leon keeps staring at the ceiling.
not because he's thinking about work. not because he's replaying mission reports. not because he's wondering when headquarters will drag him into another disaster.
for once, he's letting himself do absolutely nothing.
he can feel you beside him. your legs kicking lazily in the air. your weight against his arm. your teeth occasionally finding his bicep because apparently that's become a normal thing in this relationship.
and when you shift closer and practically drape yourself over him, leon doesn’t complain. he never does. you’ve got a soft spot in his heart, after all.
he just lets out another slow breath and settles deeper into the mattress. he reminds himself that he’s home. to you.
and if that means another hour of being a chew toy and a human pillow, leon figures he can deal with that. after all, he’s been through worst situations than this.
sum; being inexperienced meant you didn't know your true limits. being with Leon meant you wanted to push those limits.
content; size kink, unprotected sex, overconfident!reader, sort of bratty!reader, inexperienced!reader, there's a hint of Leon being pushy/mean, but in a consensual way (idk how to tag that LMAO), squirting, a little degrading, no specific leon era for this one, this is really just pure filth because I drove myself insane last week LMFAO
wc; 3.5k
a/n; GOD, this choice was hard, guys... im so sorry to those who chose chris for my poll, but I hope this & my last chris post made up for it!!
Leon knew you were a bit of a special case from the moment he met you. Where people would usually be shy, nervous, not confident enough to approach someone, you were... quite the opposite. You approached with a fire in your eyes and a buzz rushing through you and into him, and you weren't even drinking. The moment you approached him at that club, he knew you'd be a problem. And a problem you were. A good one. A problem he was lucky to have.
Until it came to things like intimacy. You'd managed to score a few dates, and eventually, you two ended up dating. The only problem? Once it was official, you became a little insistent on intimacy. Not forcing, but definitely making moves more often. Leon wanted to, he really did, but given the talks you'd had in the past about your lack of experience and how you didn't know what you could and couldn't take because you had never even felt the need for a sex toy on your own, Leon worried that it'd stunt your intimate moments as a couple.
Eventually, of course, Leon gave in, but only to an extent. He'd eaten you out, finger fucked you like his life depended on it, fucked your thighs, and yet, he refused to let you even suck him off, let alone take him into your impossibly achey and needy pussy. He always told you he was too big. He worried it'd hurt you, whether it was your mouth or your pussy. You knew he was big, and you still insisted.
You crawled into bed with him, just like normal, snuggling into his side as he read the book you'd recently recommended to him. He tugged you closer, leaning down to kiss your temple as he closed the book, seemingly ready for bed. It was approaching 9 o'clock, and he had an early meeting, you knew. The early meeting didn't stop you from snuggling up closer until you shuffled into his lap, straddling his hips and looking down at him with a grin. His hands rested at your hips.
"Really? We're doing this again?" He mused, low and laced with exhaustion.
"For real this time, because I'm tired of you giving me excuses." You huffed, hips already beginning to move in slow, easy motions back and forth.
"They're not excuses, they're honesty and protection. You think I haven't wanted so badly to bend you over and take you? Of course I have." He scoffed, hands soothing up your sides as he exhaled slowly.
"So why haven't you?"
"Because I'm too big for you. We'd need to take a lot of time to get you ready. You can barely take three of my fingers before you tell me it's too much." He explained simply, like it was a choice between what deal to go for in a grocery store.
"So what? The shapes are entirely different! How do we even know if I could take it if we don't try?" You frowned, hips wriggling incessantly.
"No, honey. I'm not gonna let your confidence get the better of you." He moved to lift you off his lap, but you grabbed his hands and pinned them beside his head. He raised a brow at you.
"Just the tip. That's all I wanna try." You insisted.
"You know, you holding me down has no change on my answer. It's sexy, but no." He laid his head back and hummed idly.
"Leeooon!" You pouted, hips grinding harder. You could feel his cock stiffening in his sweats. "Please, Lee, just the tip, and if it doesn't fit first try, we can stop."
"Usually, the guy begs for 'just the tip'," he chuckled. "Poor thing, I've really ruined you, haven't I?" He clicked his tongue, feigning guilt.
"Not yet 'cause you won't fuck me right." You grumbled.
"Oh, is that so? I don't fuck you right? Then how come I've got you cumming on my fingers and my mouth and my fucking thighs every other night? Huh? Care to explain that, if I don't fuck you right?" He took his hands from your grasp, one hand grabbing your chin and making you whine, brows furrowing.
"You won't fuck me the right way 'cause you think I can't take it."
"I really don't think you can." He agreed.
"Please, baby!" You shifted, only for him to stop you. "Please, I promise, if it doesn't work, I won't ask again, not until you can prep me right."
"You," he exhaled, grabbing you by the waist, sitting up. "Are such a fucking brat." He cursed, rolling over so that you were flat on your back with his body pinning you down.
You looked up at him, biting at your lower lip. He watched you for a moment, squinting. "Please?" You barely whispered.
"Fine. But don't think you're not gonna get something in return for your behavior. I'm only stalling because I don't have time to fuck around."
"But you have time to fuck me? Good, I wasn't sure I'd be able to wait much longer." You grinned, giggling like a kid who'd just been told they won a million dollars.
"Fuckin' brat." He chuckled, leaning in for a kiss. You met eagerly, lips pressing into his while your arms came to wrap around his neck. Despite his rough words, his hand came to tenderly cup your cheek, deepening the kiss. His other hand worked its way downward to the hem of your night gown, pushing it upward to expose what he expected would be a lace pair of panties—tonight it was bare in two different ways. How did he not feel that through his sweats? Jesus, you knew he'd give in.
He didn't bother trailing his hands up and down, teasing, instead going straight in to press his hand against your mound. You shivered slightly, mouth falling agape at the feeling of his cold fingers pressing between your folds. Of course, he didn't take any time to prep you with his fingers, just simply using two fingers to spread your arousal and massage your clit to accumulate more to act as lube. He knew it probably wouldn't work too well at first, but it'd have to do.
Your hands reached down, pushing lazily at the waistband of his sweats. "It's unfair." You pouted.
"Unfair? Honey, you came to me like this. You came to me all shaven, no panties, not even shorts." He took your complaint, shifting to push down his pants and boxers, letting his cock spring free. He shimmied out of the clothes and kicked them aside before settling his cock against your lower belly, letting you see the size properly. You swallowed, biting your lip as you looked up at him. He had a cocky look, like he expected you to change your mind.
"What? I didn't say stop. Keep going." You huffed, but Leon could hear the faint waiver of your voice as you spread your legs wider.
"God, you really are a needy little brat." He pulled his hips back, sliding his cock between your folds to gather some of your wetness along his length, focusing on coating his tip thoroughly. "You can still back out." He looked back up at you as he lined up with your entrance, using two fingers to carefully hold your folds open for him.
"No. Now hurry up and put your dick in me before I fall asleep." You huffed up at him, hips wriggling eagerly.
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
With that, he made the first move, careful as he pushed in, his tip nudging into you. His tip didn't even get inside before you gave a whimper, thighs shaking unexpectedly as your pussy twitched against his tip. He looked down at you, brow raised.
"Shut up. Try again." You demanded, teeth gritted slightly.
Despite that not being the original arrangement, he tried again, hissing as he nearly notched the tip inside, only for your hips to twitch away, overwhelmed at the way his tip tried to intrude so suddenly.
"What did I tell you?" He deadpanned down at you. "Come on, honey, let's just do it the normal way."
"Noo! No, this is the normal way!" You insisted. "'S not my fucking fault you've got a fucking monster cock."
"Mmh, you flatter me, sweetheart." He chuckled, leaning in to shut you up with a kiss. You expected him to pull away and call it a night, but his hand crept down again, thumb pressing to your clit and getting your walls to ease up ever so slightly, a soft mewl leaving you. With you melting into the pleasure, he took a selfish opportunity to push again. You gasped, a choked sound leaving you as his tip notched inside of you finally. You gave a stifled cry, hands flying to claw at his shoulders as your eyes squeezed shut.
"Fuck—okay, I-i don't know if I can do it anymore." You admitted, huffing with uneven breaths as you looked down where you two met. It really was just the tip, and you were already backing out.
"Oh, no," he pulled back, faux pity on his face. "Poor thing, you bit off too much, and now you can't chew? What a shocker." He watched you shiver and twitch, breath shaky as his tip stayed barely notched inside your impossibly tight, unadjusted cunt. "You told me I didn't fuck you right, so now I'm gonna show you just how well I can fuck."
"'M sorry, I thought I—"
"You thought you could take it? Yeah. And you didn't listen to my warning? Of course not. You never listen." You felt him push forward again, and another squeak left your lips, followed by a gasp. He didn't even push in another inch and you were pushing at his hips to get him to pull out.
"Fuck! I'm—haah—I'm sorry!" You looked up at him, brows furrowing.
"Admit it." He demanded, cock pushing its way in ever so slightly, but the burn was far from slight. You choked on something akin to a cry, and he swatted your thigh. "Admit that you've been nothing but a bratty little bitch and now you're whiney because you can't fucking take it."
Tears brimmed your lash line, lower lip falling and letting a small whine fall from your throat. "I-i can't take it, and I.." you paused with a gasp, walls squeezing around the first inch and a half of his length. Your head fell back, nails dragging down his front as your thighs trembled. "Fuck!"
"It's too late. If I stop now, all your progress will be lost. You don't want that, do you, honey?" He teased. You shook your head desperately. The stretch burned, his cock insistent as he felt you twitching and trying desperately to make room for him inside of you.
"Please," you whispered, eyes fluttering closed.
"Please, what?" He prodded for more from you. "I can't do what you want if you don't tell me. You were so eager earlier, now you can't talk? Typical." He scoffed.
"Please, just fuck me already!" You cried, breath hitching as his hips nudged back and pushed forward, allowing another inch to fit. He went through that cycle for a while—pulling back, pushing deeper, every push forcing a gasp or a stifled moan from you—until he was fully sheathed inside of you, your pussy impossibly stretched past every limit you didn't know about. His cockhead was snug against your cervix, barely fitting him all the way in. It was a good thing Leon knew how to properly get you going, or he'd be struggling to fit more than he already was.
By the time he was snug, fully pushed inside of you, your head had fallen limp, eyes closed, lips open with heavy breaths falling. He found it amusing, given he hadn't even tried to fuck you yet, and you were already beyond spent and shaky. He chuckled, watching you finally lift your head to look down where your bodies met.
"Holy fuck." You breathed. You could see a small bulge in your lower belly where he had somehow miraculously managed to fit inside of you, now bulging with his massive he was. Not only that, but you had never felt this full. Even when he was using his fingers to fuck you and you complained that his fingers were too thick and you felt 'sooo full'.
"You happy now? Now that you've got a proper cock inside of you?" He taunted quietly, bringing a hand to grasp your chin and tilt your head back and forth, he fingers lightly squishing your cheeks together.
"Uh-huh." You tried to nod in his grasp, dazed and, although embarrassingly, cock-drunk without even being properly fucked. He wasn't even grinding his hips, making no attempt to move, and he relished in the way your body responded to him. He thought it was the best thing ever when you'd cry and squirm, and this made things a whole lot better. He leaned back slightly, taking in the sight of you stretched out around his cock.
He dropped one hand, thumb finding your clit. You twitched, whining slightly as your walls clamped down around him. "What, you're already that fucking close? You're getting all twitchy and whiney so soon." He purred, hips pulling backward slowly, cock dragging out of you until his tip was all that was left. You looked down and watched, brows furrowed with need.
It burned with both pain and pleasure as he pushed back in faster than before. You moaned louder this time, back arching as your hands flew to grab his shoulders for support. Your eyes squeezed shut, mouth agape as he fucked his cock into you at a pace that overwhelmed your senses. Pain burned away and morphed into a new kind of pleasure that you didn't know you could achieve.
He angled his hips lower, his leaky cockhead pushing up against your g-spot as he thrusted into you, his thumb still focused on your clit. He meant it as a tease originally, but with how twitchy and shaky you'd become in just a minute or two of slow, rough, deep thrusts, he could feel that you were already close. His tease ended up being right. He growled slightly at the thought, brows knitted and nose scrunched in a focused manner as he looked down where your bodies met. You became oversensitive quick, your orgasm building. You tried to reach down to get his hand to slow down its abuse against your puffy clit, but he simply pushed your hand away and swatted at the throbbing bundle of nerves.
You cried out, hips bucking. "Lee—oh, fuck, please!" Your body locked for a moment, eyes rolling back as you bit your lip and fell into stifled whimpers and sobs, your orgasm quiet but intense, rippling through your body so fast you didn't even warn him. He fucked you through it, hips speeding up as your cunt clenched around him. Once your vision cleared, you looked up at him, dazed and mushy.
"And you think I cum too fast?" He chuckled. "Look at you—damn near squirting on my cock just because it's so, so big, and your poor little pussy can't take it." He purred deeply and reached with his other hand to your face, holding your head still by your chin so you couldn't look away as he pumped his cock back and forth, fucking you into overstimulation without even offering a breather. "I wonder—" He paused with a grunt, examining your face with a devilish look you didn't recognize. "You think I could make you squirt just from using my cock?"
Your cheeks flushed, eyes widening with tears that had spilled already. "Wait, n-no, no, 's too much, Lee!" You gasped, hands pushing at his lower torso, another sob ripping from your throat. "No—ooh!"
"C'mon, pretty girl, didn't you say I couldn't fuck you right? Isn't that what you wanted? To be fucked dumb on a fat cock?" He let go of your chin and brought a hand down just a little to wrap around your throat. You squeaked, pussy fluttering around him at the threat of him constricting your airway. He didn't, though. You got more than enough excitement from just the threat alone.
You couldn't be bothered with answering him. You simply laid there and took it—relishing in the sensitivity and the way he was absolutely ruining your pussy. Leon knew he was ruining you for anyone else, and that alone drove him crazy. He could feel his own orgasm building, cock twitching and balls drawing tight to his body. He denied himself the release, persisting in order to make sure he proved just how good he could make you feel.
He had a point to prove. His thumb resumed the previous ministrations on your clit, two fingers rapidly strumming with a firm pressure. You twitched, gasping as your eyes rolled back and fluttered. Your hands grabbed tightly at his forearm of the hand that was around your neck, looking up at him with an abrupt sob leaving your lips.
"Lee, please," you choked out, brows furrowing as you quivered beneath him, abdomen clenching as your body built up to the peak of the coil in your belly.
"Go on, take it. Take what you asked for and I'll make sure you're satisfied for fucking weeks." He slammed his hips harder, the skin slapping lewdly with the added sounds of your arousal coating his balls as they smacked against your ass. You tried to stifle it, but a scream of pleasure ripped from you as he subconsciously tightened his hand around your throat. Still not constricting, but it was enough to make you dizzy.
"Leon! Fuuuuck, fuckfuckfuck—'m cumming!" You sobbed, legs jolting outward as your hips tried to pull away, your orgasm rushing through you like never before. What you didn't process yet was the stream of clear liquid spurting from your sopping cunt, making an absolute mess out of his lower abdomen, your own abdomen, and the sheets below. He fucked you through it, both hands finally coming to grab your hips and properly use you like some kind of cock sleeve as he chased his high. Tears stained your cheeks, your moans becoming higher and longer as you squirmed and tried to run away from the pleasure.
"Stop fucking moving." He dug his nails into your hips. His demand was quickly followed by a growl, hips slamming and his thrusts becoming uneven as his balls twitched and his cock pulsed, his heavy load finally spilling into you. He had you so full that his cum seeped out around him as he bottomed out and let your pussy twitch and pulse, milking him of every last drop. Both of you were shaking. He stayed buried inside of you as he leaned down and mouthed as your neck. He lazily ground his hips, and you cried quietly, thighs squeezing around his hips.
"Lee," you sniffled, shaky hands searching desperately for his.
"Shh," he soothed, slowly pulling out of you as he grabbed your hands. You felt so empty, but so unbelievably satisfied. "Breathe, honey. I've got you." He mused softly, kissing along your collarbone until he found his way up to look at your face and assess the final product.
You were a mess. Tears down your cheeks, drool spilling down the right side of your face, hair messy and sticking to the sides of your face, lips kiss swollen and still wet. If he didn't know better, he'd try to start up round three, but given your sniffles and the way you shook your head, he didn't even try. He got more than what he thought.
He took his hands away only for a moment so he could brush your hair out of your face and gently wipe the tears and drool from your cheeks. When he sat back and guided you to follow into his lap, you curled into his hold, his arms wrapping around you delicately.
"You took me so well." He whispered, kissing the side of your head. "I know I got a little mean," he sighed, prepared to apologize for not listening to your cries.
"Can we do that more?" You asked, looking up at him as you shifted shakily in his lap. "The.. the whole.."
"Baby, we just did a lot." He chuckled. "But we'll talk more tomorrow." He scooted away from the mess and hoisted you into his hold, standing from the bed. "How about a shower?"
You nodded, falling into his hold as you closed your eyes. He really fucked the energy out of you. "Told you I could handle it. Might not be very experienced, but I can take what's given to me." You mumbled quietly.
Clearly, he didn't fuck the attitude out of your system yet.
"Brat." He lazily swatted your butt, only to lean in and kiss your nose with the utmost care.
"You like it."
"Only when it results in you shutting your mouth."
"Jerk."
He chuckled, setting you on the bathroom sink counter to start the shower.
💌 tags: [ 1.4k wc ] reader is called 'sweetheart'. implied age gap (leon kennedy's controversially young gf??). MDNI. pwp—plot what plot, porn without plot. making out. oral sex!reader-receiving. riding leon kennedy's face (i know we all see that nose ridge he has).
💭 lotus thoughts: i just finished playing RE9, i want that man to come home and i will jump his bones. he is sooooo fine oh my god. this is my first time writing smut with no build up, leon kennedy lvrs, i hope you enjoy!
the moment leon comes home, you're surprised to see he's no longer groaning up the stairs. matter of fact, you're actually much more surprised at how... younger? he looks.
you're about to ask him how his mission went when he drops his duffel bag and quickly closes the distance between you. snaking his hand behind your neck to pull in you in for a heated kiss.
the way he practically inhales you makes your head spin and you make an embarrassing sound when his tongue laves over your lower lips. poking, prodding, asking for permission.
you open your mouth anyway with a gasp when you feel his other hand slide down your waist to cup your ass. his tongue exploring the cavern of your mouth as he squeezes, feeling your skin spill in between his fingers.
his hands all over your body combined with the way he sounds euphoric—sighing and groaning—from just touching and kissing makes your eyes roll back and head feel light and you know its because your lungs need to breathe.
leon seems to think otherwise.
usually he's the one to pull away, reminding you of his age, but right now? it seems like he can devour your lips for hours.
not a bad thing, a welcome change, really... but you do need to breathe, too...
regrettably, your palms slide up his chest, feeling a pleased sound from him as his hold on the back of your neck tightenes and he deepens the kiss.
your eyes can barely stay open, feeling even more light-headed than before, fingers scrunching up his shirt as you try to push him away.
"lee—" you try to tell him as his kisses are still relentless, "can't—leon- mhh, wait... need'ta—hnn—breathe...!"
he backs up—a string of saliva still connecting the two of you—as the both of you puff out hot air, trying to catch your breaths.
"sorry, sweetheart," he murmurs as his hand slides up from the back of your neck to cup your face, tucking a hair behind your ear with his thumb—his other hand sliding back up to your waist as his breathing starting to even out, "got a little carried away there."
you swallow, seeing the look in his eyes—he looks like he wants to eat you up and knows that you know he wants to.
"don't worry about it," you whisper—throat dry—as you peer up into him through your lashes.
he leans down to press another kiss onto your lips.
then another.
and another.
and again, with his kisses now trailing down the slope of your neck. you sigh and tilt your head up for more access as he sucks on a healing bruise he made before he left for his mission, hands roaming around your torso.
then he stops.
and when you look down, you find that he's already staring back at you.
"you wanna try something out with me?"
and that's how you end up in the bedroom, your lover lying down as you're straddling his face, his arms around your thighs.
"are you sure, lee? i might suffocate you..." you ask, nervously brushing his bangs back to reveal his forehead. you've... never sat on leon's face before, scared that he might pass out.
instead, you feel a his breath on your cunt as he scoffs and rolls his eyes.
"forget breathing, if you don't sit on my face and let me eat you out i might actually die."
and with that, leon pulls down your weight with no abandon and starts eating you out. his tongue circles around your folds, easing you into it as your clit bumps into his nose.
your hand grabs onto the bedframe as the other threads through his hair and he groans, feeling the vibration of his voice where you need it most.
"lee—! oh my god..." you whimper out as you buck into his face, the bundle of nerves being nudged by the tip of his nose.
leon pulls you closer by your thighs as he swirls his tongue around your hole and finally—slowly—slides it in.
the feeling of his warm muscle in you makes you bite your lip—eyes closed and head thrown back—unsuccessfully keeping your from making a sound as you pull on his hair.
"fuck.. leon, faster, please," you whisper out the last part and he makes a sound against you, but complied all the same.
his tongue works faster—going in and out and in and out of your leaking cunt. your whines getting pitchier and higher as he goes faster—his hands rocking you towards his face through the hold he has on your thighs.
your eyes roll back when he buries his tongue deeper—your clit rubbing against his nose harder.
soon enough, he doesn't even have to rock you back and forth anymore, your hips working all on their own to ride his face and you gasp as his tongue curls inside you— dragging itself through your ridges—the coil in your stomach tightening everytime you feel his skin on your nub.
"leon, 'm cumming," you gasp, eyes barely open when you tilt your head to see him—only to almost cum at the sight.
his eyes are half lidded, looking fucked out as if he were the one getting head right now. you make something between a moan and a whimper as you read the look on his face—as if he's egging you on, telling you "go on, sweetheart, ride my face, i wanna feel you cum all over my face."
your hips move faster and his tongue works deeper and you swear you see stars when he tilts his head up in rhythm, stimulating your clit as he does so.
"lee—fuck, leooh- oh god, oh my go—cummi-i'm cumming—oh!"
your back bows and he has to use your thighs to pull you back to his mouth when you lift up—cumming embarrassingly loud as you look into his eyes, like he's challenging you to try and pry yourself off of him.
his hands snake up to your bare waist as he continues to rock you back and forth, helping your ride out your orgasm.
as the waves of your high ebb out, huffing and trying to catch your breath as you come down from it, you brush strands of leon's hair away from his forehead.
you whimper from overstimulation when he curls his tongue in you like he's trying to get every last drop of your slick, before pulling it out and circling your clit lazily.
"e-enough, lee, i need to—" you take a breath, "need to breathe..."
he gives your clit a kiss as he lets you go, your sides feeling sore—you're sure that his fingerprints will leave a mark on your skin the next morning—as you dismount from his face and fall right beside him, his chest rising up and down as he's now the one to catch his breath.
it takes him a few moments, but eventually he sits up and gazes at you. leon's face is shiny with your cum and yet he just looks like he won the lottery.
but despite the mind-blowing orgasm you just had fron riding his face, you wonder where the hell did he get this stamina from, because it definitely wasn't like this before he left for his mission.
"you're thinking too loud," he tells you, leans down, and gives you a kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips.
he runs his hand up and down your side, trying to massage you knowing his grip had been a bit tighter than he wanted.
"was jus' thinking of your face," you say instead.
"oh yeah?"
you nod, giving him another peck on the lips, "i was gonna say you look like the cat that got the cream, but i think it was a little too on the nose."
leon smirks, "you like riding this nose," he says as he skims said nose on your cheek before giving it a kiss.
"oh, shut it!"
he laughs and tucks his face under the crook of your neck, placing a few kisses there. the stubble on his chin tickles you and it makes you giggle.
"lee! it tickles!"
that makes him laugh, too, letting you feel the rumble of his chest as he does so.
"y'think you can be up for round two?"
girl you are so fucked—in the literal sense—with this newfound stamina of his.
💭 lotus thoughts: girl i need this man so bad.
@ LOTUSLOVES EST 2026. do not steal, plagiarize, modify, repost, translate, commercialize, or use/feed my work for AI. sleep with one eye open if you do these things 💕.
Soooo in your leon hcs you said you could make a list of all the things he'd say to you in bed. Could. Could we have the list 👀
Omg of course 😭
Is it bad that I already had this list for like a month. I just cleaned it up and added some more.
Things Leon would say to you in bed
Part 1 | Part 2: period headcanons
Trigger/content warnings: Tiny mention of insecurity. Also bit of degradation and praise (mdni)
Description: What Leon would say to you during intimacy
Notes: Found this in the deepest pits of my notes app and updated it a little. Any version of Leon and gender-neutral reader. Hope you enjoy ♡
● Like I said, he'd talk you through it. He loves talking to you through intimacy, and he doesn't even need you to reply.
"Tell me what you need. Speak up, let me hear it."
"Look at me. You're doing perfect."
"Yeah? You like that? Thought you said you weren't going to let me win that easily."
"Can't even find your words right now, hm? That's a first for you."
● He doesn't let you cover your face or hide in general. He'd say something like, "Don't hide from me now. I want to see exactly how you look when I touch you like this"
● He gets into this weird habit of treating your body parts like separate entities. If he’s trying to move your legs, he won't look at your face. He’ll tap your knee gently, and murmur a very dry, barely audible, "'scuse me..." as if he's politely asking a stranger on a crowded sidewalk to step aside.
● When you're in control, again, he doesn't shut up. He wants you to know that he completely trusts you to hold all the weight for a while.
"You look absolutely incredible looking down at me like that..."
"You have no idea what you do to me."
"Guide my hands... where do you want them?"
● If you were into degradation, he'd be willing to try it with you. He usually doesn't force his words. They just come out naturally, which makes them 10× more effective. But, I don't think he'd be into anything extremely mocking or degrading. Just a very average amount, I feel like.
"Look at how worked up you get just from me looking at you. You really are pathetic for me, sweetheart."
"Look at you, barely able to keep your eyes open and chasing after my hand like a needy little thing. You really can't help yourself, can you?"
● He constantly narrates exactly how you're reacting to him. He isn't guessing how you feel, he's actively reading your body language like a map and reflecting it back to you.
"Oh, so now you're being shy? Pretty sure it's a bit late for that, sweetheart."
"You always turn your face away right when you get flustered. Don't do that. Let me look at you."
"Every time I slow down, you completely shift to match me. Look at how you're leaning into it, sweetheart. You're letting me guide your entire pace right now."
● He loves really lazy morning sex, and it's when he's at his most vulnerable. It's a certain point in his day where he's not performing or being a protector for anyone, and his most honest, unguarded words come out.
"I love you so much. More than you'll ever know. I can't even put it into words."
"You're so fucking perfect. I don't understand it."
"You've saved me in so many ways just by existing. I don't know what I'd do without you."
● If you were ever insecure about any part of your body during intimacy, he shuts it down immediately. Not just to make you feel better, but because he's genuinely confused at your feelings as he loves that part of you so much. He doesn't just say "you're beautiful" or just tells you that he loves that part of you. He makes you feel genuinely worth.
"There isn't a single version of you that isn't completely worth having, through every single flaw and every good day."
"Hey. Look at me. You're way too hard on yourself. You don't have to be flawless to be incredible and sexy, which you are, you know?"
"Don't hide from me. Please."
● He loves talking to you during sex, as you know very well, but sometimes he gets so caught up in the pleasure that he stops for a bit, and all you're left with are his groans and moans and occasional whimpers when he really likes something you do. The only words that escape him when he gets like that are breathless curses or your name when he gasps it like a lifeline. Sometimes followed by the occasional, ragged "please," whether you're in control or not. It just escapes him every single time.
A/N: Sorry this took longer than it should've, I've been so busy 😭 I've been doing loads of finals, I had to get my highlights in my hair retouched, my OCD had gotten like 10× worse randomly, and i just haven't really been active for a few days. I hope you enjoyed ♡
"fuc— fudge— fudge, fudge, fudge—", he breathed. His hand besides your head now clawing the sheets so hard, you are certain you heard a pop. His breathe is uneven, hitting your shoulder. His other forearms just laying flat against the mattress, some of your hair underneath but you don't complain about it.
"are you alright?", you breathed. It was apparent that you were smiling. It could be heard in your voice, for Pete's sake! Your hand traveled from his ribcage, all the way up to his cheek. Oh, that made his breathe stutter.
"yeah— yeah, oh, I'm so fine—", he stuttered. His hips moved. Slowly. Every slow drag out, he closed his eyes. His lips pressing together like they were concealing every secret he had. And, every push in, his eyes opened. Not like he could see much, his glasses fogged up from his own breathing.
"I'm so okay— very okay. Everything is— greangh—", his head dropped on your shoulder when you hooked your legs around his waist. A teasing smile on your lips quickly turned into a open mouthed gasp when his hips snapped on their own.
The hand on his cheek moved to rest on the back of his neck. "Ryland—", you whispered. That seemed to catch his attention as he moved up from his position of laying over you. Now, you could see all of him.
His chest moving from the uneven breathes. His fogged up glasses. Hair slightly askew, falling over his forehead. His lips parted, you could see the sheen layer of sweat glisten under the mood light.
You could tell he was about to say something, your hips moved before his lips could. Grinding against his, begging, screaming for more friction or action or anything. The words stuck on his tongue immediately turned into a choked groan.
"wait— wait, wait, wait", his hand pressed on your stomach. Which did nothing to motivate you to wait. It just pressed you harder against the feeling of him inside, your back arched as you let out a moan, "oh—"
His hand lifted like he touched lava, literally. You opened your eyes, glaring. Was he really adamant on not letting you get off tonight?
Your hand wrapped around his wrist as you yanked him forward, his free hand scrambled to find a solace while yours just pulled him closer by the back of his neck.
"Ryland Grace, if you don't fuck me right now. I swear—", he didn't even have to let you finish. His hips already started moving. Making you take a sudden breath before falling back down on the mattress.
"sorry— I didn't realize I was stalling, heh—", he breathed. "Did you know, that sex functions as a moderate— oh my gosh", he moaned, his hand moving to rest on your hip.
"moderate—", his other hand pushed his glasses up, "exercise that burns 3 to— to", his hips moved. He talked so much, "4.2 calori—mphf—"
Your hand, that was resting on the back of his neck just moved. Two fingers prodding at his lips before resting in his mouth when he opened them to speak. You could feel the warm saliva and soft muscles around it, teeth careful not to graze your fingers.
"shh—", your eyes closed, focusing on the way he feels. But not before you saw the way he nodded and feel his tongue push your fingers to the roof of his mouth.
a/n: I need to make out with this man while he tells the weirdest and the most useless facts he knows while I'm trying to shut him up
AHS evan peters characters headcanons for cuddling/physical intimacy :3? Not necessarily NSFW, leaning more on fluff than suggestive !
Enjoy 🥰
Includes Tate, Kit, Kyle, Jimmy, James, and Kai
No warnings I don't think
Tate Langdon
Tate is aggressively touch-starved. Not in an obvious way at first either. He acts casual about physical affection until he actually gets it, then suddenly he’s sticking to you like superglue.
LOVES laying with his head in your lap while you play with his hair. He goes completely quiet during it too. That kind of silence that feels heavy.
Big on sleepy forehead touches. Nose nudges. Absentminded, almost instinctual touching.
He’d pretend to hate cheesy couple stuff but secretly melts if you hold his face gently.
Has a habit of hooking a finger into your belt loop or sleeve when you're laying together, like he's scared you'll suddenly get up and leave.
If he’s upset, he gets clingier instead of more distant. Would absolutely crawl into your bed at 2am without explaining anything and just bury himself against your chest.
Movie cuddles with Tate eventually turn into him laying on top of you or you on top of him. This man has no sense of personal space once he feels safe.
Kisses are either incredibly soft and gentle or devastatingly intense. No in between.
Kit Walker
Kit cuddles like a person who genuinely believes tenderness can keep bad things away for a little while.
Warm. That’s the first thing about him. Physically warm, emotionally warm, space heater warm.
LOVES domestic affection. Hugging you from behind while cooking, kissing your temple in passing, rubbing circles into your shoulders without thinking about it.
Sleeps best when touching you somehow. Hand on your waist, tangled legs, fingers linked. Doesn’t matter, as long as he can feel you.
He’s very attentive to what comforts you. Notices quickly if you like scalp scratches, back rubs, weighted hugs, etc.
Kit after a long day would absolutely pull you into his lap and just exhale into your shoulder like you’re home base. And really, to him, you are.
Gives the kind of hugs where he squeezes tighter halfway through because he wasn’t ready to let go yet.
Quiet morning cuddles with him feel sacred. Pale sunlight, tangled sheets, sleepy voice still rough around the edges.
Kyle Spencer
Kyle’s entire love language is basically him treating you like you're fragile and precious.
Very hesitant at first. He’d worry about being “too much” or doing something wrong.
Once comfortable though? Constant physical contact.
HUGE cuddler. Like genuinely. Arms around your waist, legs tangled with yours, face buried in your neck.
He likes laying his head on your chest so he can hear your heartbeat. It instantly relaxes him.
Physical affection becomes one of the main ways he communicates emotions he struggles to verbalize.
If you touch or kiss his scars without even thinking about it, you will literally see his eyes light up.
Kyle always falls asleep during cuddles first. Usually with his cheek smushed against you and one hand still holding onto you.
He’d love when you initiate affection because it reassures him you actually want him close.
Jimmy Darling
Jimmy is affectionate in a very wholehearted, overflowing way. Like he spent years being denied softness and now refuses to not give it.
Bear hugs. Constantly.
He kisses with his entire soul behind it. Even casual kisses somehow feel earnest.
Obsessed with having you sit in his lap. Doesn’t matter where you are. Chair? Couch? Edge of the bed? Congratulations, you're now sitting on his lap.
Teases you constantly during affection. “You comfy there, sweetheart?” while he’s the one crushing you against his chest.
He absolutely nuzzles into your neck whenever you're laying down together. Like it's automatic for him.
Tired Jimmy is absurdly soft. Running his hands over your back slowly, pressing sleepy kisses to your shoulder, mumbling half-coherent praise.
If you trace patterns on his hands or arms, he goes very still. That kind of tenderness wrecks him a little.
James Patrick March
James treats physical affection like a decadent art form. Every touch is deliberate. Dramatic. A little dangerous around the edges.
HUGE on hand kissing.
Loves draping you across him while you're lounging.
Surprisingly affectionate in private. Publicly he’s composed and theatrical, but alone? Very touch-oriented.
He adores slowly brushing hair away from your face while maintaining eye contact.
He likes possessive little gestures: hand on your neck, fingers around your wrist, pulling your chin toward him during kisses. Never rushed though. Everything with him unfolds like velvet curtains.
Secretly enjoys when you become affectionate first because it feeds his ego. Like to a catastrophic degree.
He’d absolutely call cuddling “indulgent” while actively refusing to let you leave the bed.
Kai Anderson
Kai is… complicated. Affection with him tends to blur together with control issues, emotional dependency, and genuine vulnerability all fighting one another. But underneath all the chaos? He craves closeness. Desperately.
Initially acts like he doesn’t need affection at all. Then proceeds to hover around you 24/7.
Touch-starved.
Late-night vulnerability hits him hardest. That’s when he gets quieter and more honest, pulling you against him while talking in a low sleepy voice.
LOVES having his hair played with. Instant system shutdown.
He’s clingier than he’ll ever admit. If you’re sitting together, expect him to pull your legs over his lap or hook himself around your waist.
The first time you casually kiss his forehead, he short-circuits.
Physical affection becomes incredibly important to him once attached to someone. Reassurance through touch. Constantly checking you’re still there.
Would absolutely deny enjoying cuddles while actively dragging you back into bed for “five more minutes.” Which becomes an hour. Then two. Little dictator of the blanket republic 🛋️
╰┈➤ pairing: James Patrick March x fem!reader
╰┈➤ word count: 2K
╰┈➤ summary: Aunt Flo comes unexpectedly. James doesn't care, despite your insecurities. He is, after all, who he is.
╰┈➤ w a r n i n g s: 18+, SMUT, female reader, no use of y/n, assumed established relationship, kissing, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, rough sex, oral sex (fem!receiving), period sex, period cunnilingus/James consumes your period blood, blood kink, blood as lube, come as lube, mentions of murder/gore/etc., reader has awareness and is okay with??? the fact that James is a serial killer.
╰┈➤ a/n: requested by my beloved @bohnerrific69!! banners by @/bronzewasp, @/saradika-graphics. i'm rusty waaah. hopefully it doesn't show too much! on a side note, i'm really sorry for not posting as frequently as i usually do, writer's block is whooping my ass regularly.
↓ fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!
The city of Los Angeles bustles outside the many windows of the Hotel Cortez. Even as the hours drag into the evening, the world out there thrums with life. The room you're in is mostly quiet and dim, lit only by the yellowish glow of the wall sconces. The shadows outline everything, submerging half of you in darkness. Miss Evers is nowhere to be seen; James shooed her out hours ago. The rest of the hotel and what the occupants are doing are of no concern to you, not with where your attention has been for the past few hours.
James is on top of you, the coolness of his body permeating through the white dress shirt he wears. You've been kissing and grinding your hips against him for the better part of an hour, and despite the chill he always brings, the fire between your legs grows hotter and hotter with each passing second. He's intoxicating, in every way you can think of. His smell alone is enough to send you to the heavens, but the way he moves his body against yours, the way his hands grip and knead at your flesh, the way he kisses…
His tongue dances in your mouth, claiming every inch of it with an almost-unsettling dominance. He kisses like he's trying to consume, and nothing short of that. A moan is carried on a breath into his mouth, and he swallows it happily, delighted by the audible pleasure that his mere kisses bring.
It's not enough, however, and he craves more. His long, lithe fingers ghost over your stomach and press down into the flesh just above your pubic bone, allowing him access to her. You're soaked. Really soaked. James hums in approval at the discovery and delves his middle finger into her. The intrusion brings a filthy moan from your mouth, and James flattens his palm against her, almost gripping the rest of her as he curls his finger inside you.
"Fuck," you breathe.
To him, still. Not enough. Never enough.
The barrage of sensations disappears as James sinks between your legs wordlessly; his hands trail along the length of your torso reverently, and your silken nightgown ends just past the hips, providing no resistance for his hands as they caress your sides. His large, pale hands sweep along the outsides of your thighs before his fingers slither to the crease of them as they press together. He carefully, but firmly, separates them, exposing the delicate pattern of your lace underwear. He slots himself between your legs, his shoulders forcing them apart.
His tongue traces the seam of your panties, a tantalizing stripe along the damp fabric. You feel the strength of the muscle, pushing against your already aching center and keen, arching your hips up into his mouth. He leans into it, presses himself against you, and inhales deeply, savoring the sweet, heady scent of your arousal. He looks up at you with those two obsidian black eyes of his as he hooks his finger around the side of your panties and tugs them gently over the swell of your hips, tossing them carelessly behind him for Miss Evers to pick up later.
You're leaking. Unsurprisingly. James unleashes a series of kisses over your sensitive folds, paying attention to every inch. He does this with an almost religious reverence—despite his hatred for all things religion. When it came to your body, however, he was an undeniably devout man.
With his thumb and pointer finger, he spreads you open like the petals of a delicate flower, revealing the glistening, warm flesh to his hungry mouth. He leans in, flattening his tongue broadly against your clit. It takes him all of a few seconds to find an Earth-shattering rhythm with his flicks, torturing you in a way that immediately makes your leg muscles shake deeply. He alternates between pointed, firm attention to your clit, and lapping at you in wet, filthy circles, which has you panting and choking out pathetic whimpers with every pass. He presses his chin into you, forcing more pressure against your cunt.
The combination of fluids continues to leak from your cunt onto the silk sheets below you; you can feel the growing wet spot beneath your ass as he doubles down on his efforts, suctioning his lips around your swollen clit.
"James… fuck, 'm gonna'…" You hoist your leg over his shoulder and press into his back, bringing him closer to you, as if any space is offensive to you. His hand clamps onto your thigh, denting the soft flesh there. He pulls away from your cunt and breathes in as he trails a line of kisses along your inner thigh before he returns to your center again.
"J-James! FUCK!"
A few seconds pass before he answers, almost laboriously. He pulls free just before the wave washes over you. He enjoys the torturous aspect of edging and does it whenever he can.
"So soon? My, my." His voice is molasses, coming out in a sultry growl—almost lost against her, his words mere vibrations against the most sensitive nerves you have. He knows why you're teetering on the edge after minutes, but you don't. Not yet.
He pushes himself up and away from her, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the mess you've made. Mortification glazes your features. Instead of a slick, clear coating on his chin, there's something else. Shimmering against the pale skin of his face, red streaks the clear. "…oh my god…"
You clamp your hand over your mouth and hurriedly scoot away from his hungry tasting. In response, he straightens up, looking down at you with a deep expression, one that very nearly conveys disappointment. He expectantly quirks one of his dark brows, like he's offended you interrupted his dinner.
Your head was spinning. While you hadn't experienced the dreaded cramps yet, you had been unusually moody today, which is why James had showered you in affection to silence your incessant complaints. But… you weren't expecting this.
"James, I—wait. We can't do this right now. You should—"
"Nonsense. We can, and we will!" He reaches up to wipe the pink-streaked slick from his chin as casually as if it were only saliva, not a hesitation in sight. Your mind was racing. He must've tasted that heady, iron taste of your blood, felt the viscous thickness of it. He, however, seems unaffected. He continues to speak as he undoes the buttons of his shirt, one by one. "Despite the untapped pleasure of it all, fornication during menstruation is… indeed taboo to the common man. Be that as it may, I am not the common man. Nor do I shy from the taboo. You know this, don't you, my dear?"
As true as it was, you say nothing, still too horrified to speak a single word.
He pauses, looking at you pointedly. "Ah. Your apprehension moves me, but not enough to stop. Fret not, my little pet." He tugs the dress shirt off his shoulders, revealing pale skin beneath. "I think you'll find the sensations... divine."
Breaking eye contact only to pull the undershirt up over his head, he makes quick work of his dress slacks and undergarments, letting them fall to his ankles before he gracefully steps out of them. Seeing him naked always ignites little embers of arousal in your lower stomach; the way he stands so proudly, cock out, not an ounce of shame, ready to fuck you until you see stars. Still, your insecurity roils in your stomach like rotten food, souring your lustful euphoria with its sickly, sludgy fingers.
"I know you like blood… But James," you protest. "It's different. It's… got tissue and stuff in it."
"Indeed," he says, matter-of-factly. "And, I've been elbow deep in a man's intestines on more than one occasion! I can assure you… Your menstruation does not scare me."
You couldn't argue with that. He had. He'd probably seen every kind of tissue and fluid that the human body produced, and yet, here you were, shying away from sex because of your own humiliation.
"My god," you groan, covering your face with your hands for a moment before slapping them back down on the silk sheets. "Can you stop calling it menstruation? You're so clinical."
James mm-hm's as he climbs over you, slotting his hands on either side of your head. His cockhead nudges your entrance, hot and leaking, begging for relief. He bucks his hips forward once, forcing the head in between your folds. You gasp, clenching tightly around the ridge of his head, pulling him in further.
"Mm, yes." The tone of his voice is euphoric, and he lowers himself to his forearms, bringing his mouth a hair's breadth away from yours. A single kiss is pressed against your lips, before you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, biting hard enough to draw blood. "Sublime," he says. You let his lip snap back against his teeth.
He tests your willingness briefly, pressing himself deeper inside of you. You respond by lifting your hips up and giving him a devious look that feels like a lightning stike to his chest. His urges become too much, nearly strangling him, and he bottoms out, slamming his cock deep inside your cunt with a slop sound. And you… Any thought of shame? Embarrassment? Gone with the feeling he provides. Perverse, wet sounds fill the room as he slams his pelvis against yours in a determined pace, drawing his veiny cock in and out in deliberate strokes, making sure you feel everything intensely.
He hadn't been wrong. The sensations were divine—in fact, they were mind-blowing. There was a new level of slickness that made his thrusts even more effortless, and the gentle pressure against your insides was particularly tantalizing. He stays like that for a minute or so, pressed tightly atop of you, reveling in the closeness.
"Deeper," you whimper. "Deeper. Please. Fuck me deeper…!"
He snarls, nips at the air in front of your face, and hurriedly obeys; he was nothing if not obedient when it came to your lustful demands. As a man who prided himself on control—devastating perfection, and control—your volatile, needy nature during sex always aroused him. Quickly, he straightens up and scoops underneath the curve of your rear, hoisting it up enough to plunge himself deeper into you. His cock hits your cervix, and your eyes roll back in your head, losing all sense of your surroundings as his thrusts bully your cunt. Eventually, everyone loses their footing, no matter how strong. And yours, he watches as it disappears, as your expression goes lazy, fucked out. Your jaw hangs slack, and your lids are heavy, and James revels in it.
White, hot pleasure tightens in your core, like a coil being tightened around itself over and over again. James feels the tension and picks up his pace, knowing that the tidal wave nears. His does, too, undeniably. The tightness thrums in his cock, and with a few more devastatingly heavy pumps, he seizes up and crushes his hips against yours, letting the orgasm wash over him.
The pressure sends you over the edge, too. Everything goes fuzzy as your orgasm claims your senses. You hear James growl, pleased above you as you quiver and tremble beneath him, panting as if you've just run a mile. He loves to see you this way; unmade and fucked beyond your wildest dreams.
After he's fully spent, he withdraws his cock from you and falls heavily onto the mattress next to you, chest heaving with exertion. You hurry to scoot closer and snuggle up next to him, tucking yourself underneath his arm. You fit so perfectly there. One arm splays over his torso, drawing circles on the cool, taut flesh.
"My darling, you are exquisite. Every time."
You nuzzle into his shoulder. "Mm. Thank you... but I'm going to get blood on your sheets if I don't move soon…"
He chuckles through closed lips, resting his head atop yours with a doting tenderness. "You already have. Miss Evers has cleaned blood from these sheets many times… she'll do it again."
imagine leon having you on his lap with your legs spread wide against his. youre bucking your hips, trying to grind on his palm as he inserts his middle and ring finger inside your tight, wet cunt. he pushes it and pulls back, the palm of his hand hitting your clit causing you to jolt from now and then.
youre moaning and writhing in his arms, you have one hand on his arm that is around your shoulder. he's keeping you tight and locked against his chest as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.
"taking my fingers like a good little slut".
"youre a good girl, arent you?".
"my very good girl who just cant help herself but to grind her messy pussy in my hand".
you cried out when he moved his fingers faster in you, the wet sounds and your heavy breathing filling the living room. you claw and grip at his arm as your hips frantically move against his hand causing him to chuckle against your ear.
"fucking desperate, arent you?". leon said as his thumb moved on your clit to rub it in circles. your toes curled as your back arched on his chest while you groaned with your eyes clenched shut. "keep clenching that pussy tight, sweetheart. gonna get you ready for my cock".
you cursed loudly when he suddenly pulled out his fingers and landed a loud smack on your wet pussy. you brokenly moan out his name with a quiver on your lips and leon swears that its the hottest thing ever. he kissed your head before hitting your pussy again causing you to buck up on his hand.
"look how wet you are, all this for me?". leon smirked when he lifted his hand that was smacking your pussy. liquid strings across his fingers and you blush at how he plays with it. "open up for me, baby".
your mouth opened and he brought his fingers inside your mouth causing you to moan loudly. your taste was filling your mouth that you couldnt help but moan while he's letting you suck on his fingers that are coated with your love juices.
"my good girl". leon groaned when he felt you swirl your tongue on his fingers, just like what you do on his cock. he slowly then pulled his fingers away, saliva connecting onto it and he's spreading it in your lips while you pant.
the arm on your shoulder then moved to wrap his hand on your neck causing you to let out a shuddering breath, mouth opening and closing as you try to catch your breath. he gave it a soft squeeze while his other hand pats your mound.
"ready for my cock, baby?". leon runs his nose on your neck to your cheeks while you nodded your repeatedly and one of your hand went to his wrist that is still petting your mound gently.
"then, lets go to the bedroom and let me ravage you tonight".
love juices 😞💓 i think its cute tbh ahahhahha also man what the hell, i couldve wrote it longer but im pretty sure i was starting to feel some tingles lol
fastback, baby! ꒱ max cooperman x gf!reader ⁞⁞ 18+ ; mdni
↳ car sex, swag imbalance, manual sex, max is a dork, teasing & edging ⁞⁞ wc: 1.2k ⁞⁞ a/n: tell me if this one is good bc i've never written him before !
his face was flush with excitement, eyes bright but half-lidded from the alcohol. his shirt was rumpled, riding up over his stomach as he thrust his arms in the air, grinning. max looked fucking hammered, but he wasn’t. he was drunk on the excitement of the night; on you.
“C’mon, c’mon, come with me,” he said, reaching out, grabbing your hand from your side. “Wanna get outta here.”
“Okay, Stallone,” you muttered, obliging as he pulls you through the crowd. The second you were through the door, the cool spring air washed over you. It was the cusp of summer; a thin sliver of sunset still hanging on the horizon, the sky otherwise inky blue. It was still warm out, the heat from the day clinging to the pavement in shimmering blankets. Your chunky heels clicked on the sidewalk, your steps in time with Max’s.
He gave your hand a squeeze and grumbled out a halfhearted protest of the nickname, looking down at his feet as you walked. Even in the dim night, you caught a glimpse of the pink that spread over his cheeks. “You make me sound so much cooler than I am.”
“Maybe you underestimate yourself,” you replied, flashing a grin.
He smiled back, and you both came to a stop in front of his car. It was parked in an alley (“How’m I supposed to leave something this gorgeous in a place like this?” he’d whined while parking, lamenting ad infinitum until you’d flicked the back of his head and reminded him that the car was almost forty years old,) and a single streetlight from the junction a block down was the only source of light.
Max scratched the back of his neck, leaning against his car, hip bumping the window. “Sooo…I’ll drive you home?”
You had other ideas. Swiftly, you opened the passenger door and pushed him in.
Breathless, he looked up at you through the curls over his forehead. “You wanna drive…?” he asked, but quickly shut up once you climbed in on top of him. “Oh.”
You looped your arms around his neck, settling in his lap. Your short skirt rode up slightly, and all that was separating you from him was his dark-wash jeans and your Victoria’s Secret underwear. The thin barriers did little to conceal his arousal.
There was something about his dick you envied. In a lot of ways, it communicated his desires for him. Of course, not always, and not exactly, but most of the time. It eliminated the need to voice his base wants. It was easy to deal with; straightforward.
You palmed him, and his eyes fluttered before settling heavily on you.
“You wanna?” he asked again, his hands landing on your hips, always bigger and heavier than was congruent with his demeanor. “Somebody could—” He swallowed hard. “See.”
You hummed, pressing down harder with the heel of your hand. “I want you, though.”
His expression was enough to tell you that the statement was enough. His fingers slipped up your skirt, skimming over your thighs. “Fuck, uh, m’kay,” he said, nodding. When you leaned forward, sucking a purplish mark onto his jaw, his head fell back against the headrest and his lips parted. He grew increasingly hard under your palm.
“You want me too?” you goaded, rolling your hips. The space was tight, but the seat was pushed all the way back, so you had a little bit of room to move your heads. “You want me to touch you?”
He nodded jerkily, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. You knew his tells well enough to know that he was trying not to thrust up into your touch. “Yeah. Fuck.”
“Say it,” you murmured, kissing his jaw again. “What do you want?”
“Your hands,” he said tightly. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, then trailed downward, lingering on your lips and tits shamelessly.
You hummed and wiggled two fingers past his waistband, your fingernails scratching through his pubes. “Where?”
“Oh, fuck,” he breathed, chests shuddering. “On my dick.”
Grinning, you undid his fly and pulled his underwear out of the way, freeing his dick. Contrary to what everybody—apparently, and according to a few friends of yours—thought, Max Cooperman was fucking hung. His cock bobbed up, smearing against his t-shirt and making him grimace.
The look on his face utterly fucking transformed, though, when you wrapped your fingers around the shaft, squeezing slightly at the base before turning it into a deliberate, teasing stroke upward.
“Like that?” you asked innocently, rolling your hips again.
He shuddered forward, resting his forehead on your shoulder while you worked him. “You’re so fucking hot,” he muttered into your skin. “You’re so much fucking cooler than me.”
You bit back a laugh and let your lips drift to the top of his head.
Your hand sped up, and so did Max’s breathing.
“M’gonna fuckin’—” he gasped out after a few minutes, his fingers digging into the cushion of your hips. “Ah, ah—”
And you eased off.
Max looked up at you with utter betrayal in his eyes, lips pink and bitten, jaw loose. “What—fuck—why’d you stop?”
You shrugged and pulled back, grinning at him in the moonlight that shone through the windshield now that the sun had completely disappeared. “Dunno.”
“I—” he spluttered, recovering the steadiness of his breathing. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he tried to collect himself, his grip on your hip easing.
Then you gave him another heard stroke and his fingers dug so deeply into your flesh you were sure the bruises would last a fucking millenia.
“Oh, I—Jesus,” he gasped, hips bucking. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…please—”
You obliged, quickening the pace and making your strokes more deliberate. Beneath your fingers, his skin was hot and you could feel his pulse beneath the surface.
He cried out a little when he came, like he always did. The first time, you’d been worried it was painful, but the embarrassment on his face and the teeth marks on his forearm made it clear that it was just a…quirk. A really hot fucking quirk, admittedly.
You both wiped up the mess with a strip of fabric left over from a terrible wardrobe malfunction the week prior, and Max took a minute to regulate his heartbeat before climbing out of the car and into the driver’s seat as you settled in the space he once was.
In the new quiet of the car, you could hear his labored breathing particularly well.
You grinned and clapped a hand on his inner thigh. “C’mon, Stallone, make this beast purr.”
He flushed, glanced over at you, and started the engine. “Great fucking sound,” he muttered, moving off.
Your smile widened impossibly and you squeezed his thigh again, a giggle escaping past your teeth. “Mm, I can think of some better ones.”
“Aw, fuck you!” he shrieked, head whipping around in half mock-indignation, half embarrassment.
You flicked his shoulder and fake-scolded, “eyes on the road, dude.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he grumbled, but you caught him peering over at you periodically throughout the drive. And adjusting his pants.
not beta'd & i'm sleepy so i'm sorry about mistakes
the 1968 Ford Mustang Gt Fastback interior is really not conducive to car sex......heartbreaking, but we persist....
i'm so sorry reader didn't get her rocks off, i was more focused on making max whine and whimper, and i assume her interests were in line with mine, so unforch her panties remain unsoaked (for now)
max cooperman anon this one is for you my love !!!!!!
💭 thinking about re9!Leon Kennedy threatening to shave his happy trail 18+ I’m insane about him oml
He’s standing at the foot of your queen-sized bed in a pair of boxers, having just gotten out of the shower. “I think I might need to shave this off soon, baby.” Your head instantly snaps up at his direction, dropping the book you were reading onto the mattress beside you.
You watch in silent horror as he runs his hand over the dark hairs that dust across his chest and down towards that delicious happy trail of his, his brows all pinched together in contemplation, even the thought of him considering it sent you into panic.
“Absolutely not. No,” you tell him, shaking your head in vehement protest as you shuffle to the end of the bed on your knees.
His eyes catch yours, and his frown softens into a grin. “Look at it, baby, it’s getting out of control down here.” He huffs in amusement, fingers still grazing over the coarse hairs, heart melting a little at the way your lips purse out into a frowny pout.
“It’s sexy, Leon.” You tell him, brushing his hands away from the sacred trail with a huff. “You’re not allowed to just shave it all off.” your fingers now toy with the waistband of his boxers.
He chuckles, cupping your cheeks between his big palms and tilting your head back. “Not allowed? What you gonna stop me?”
“No… but if you shave it off I-I-” you pause, wracking your sleepy brain for a suitable punishment, “I won’t have sex with you until it grows back.”
“Oh, fighting talk, huh? You wouldn’t last a week, babe.” He replies smugly, knowing for a fact that he’s not wrong. You barely survive when he gets pulled away by his ever-demanding job, always relying on those special homemade videos you both made.
You groan in frustration, and he coos down at you, running the pad of his thumb over your pouty lips to try and coax you to smile— but it doesn’t work, you seem genuinely heartbroken, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t amuse him just a little.
“C’mon… don’t look at me like that, baby, it needs taming.”
You don’t answer, but your expression turns determined. You lean forward, looking up at him through your lashes as you press a wet kiss right over the hard ridge of his abs. His fingers slip into your hair, tightening a little at the roots, your name catching in his chest as you drag your tongue back up his firm stomach.
“Oh Fuck-” his voice comes out hoarse, ragged.
“Promise me you won’t get rid of it.” You tell him, dragging sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down to his V-line, and when he doesn’t answer right away, you pull back, scowling at him. “Promise me, Leon.”
“Yeah, yeah, I promise… I’ll keep it, s’all yours gorgeous.” He breathes out heavily from above you, dick already hard and twitching to life against the thin fabric of his boxers.
“Good.” You beam up him happily, tugging the waistband of his boxers down a little further with a lick of your lips.
જ⁀➴ Resident Evil Masterlist જ⁀➴ General Masterlist
AN: is this a safe space to say I love big hairy men and women?
leon w a gf who is very shy and she is so cute to him that he gets cuteness aggression in the form of grabby hands. her hips her cheeks love bites all over yeah yeah. im gonna lose it
a frustrated gruff "fuck, you're cute" while hes backing you against a wall and attaching his mouth to your neck because your noises drive him crazy. so quiet normally but being able to draw uncontrolled loud sighs and moans gets him going so bad
tangentwithtanner
areudirty
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