Warnings: fluff, married!Leon, whiny Leon, needy Leon, established relationship, tiddies <3
Summary: Leon Kennedy has seen it all: broken bones, las Plagas, gunshot wounds ... but nothing, nothing is worse than the common cold.
a/n: I had a cold recently and I wondered who would be whinier, me or Leon? So I wrote this. I feel like this could be any version of Leon, but I had RE9 Leon in mind because it's the funniest. Special shoutout to @regionaldoubloon <3
Masterlist
word count: 900
The chicken noodle soup was bubbling on the stove and the house was quiet. Too quiet.
Another cough from the bedroom, followed by a pained groan.
Ah, yes. Poor Leon was suffering unimaginable torture.
You rolled your eyes, put the lid on the pot and reduced the heat down to a simmer.
"Baby?" His voice was pathetically thin as he called for you from your bedroom. "Baby, can you come here?"
"In a minute, honey," you yelled back, grabbing a bottle of Tylenol and the other remedies you had gathered to nurse your husband back to health. The same husband that had lived through cracked ribs, several other broken bones and unfathomable horrors multiple times, but for some reason the common cold was what made him want to write his testament.
"Nurse is here," you announced yourself as you walked into the room. The curtains were drawn and Leon was sprawled out on the bed, arm theatrically draped over his eyes. "Do you need me to call the priest?"
"Not yet," he croaked, breaking into a coughing fit.
You sat down on the edge of the bed. "Oh my poor baby," you crooned, gently brushing a sweaty strand of hair out of his face. Leon closed his eyes and leaned into your touch like a stray kitten. “How are you feeling?”
“Terrible,” he whined, sniffling. “I’m all congested, I have a headache, I can’t sleep because I’m coughing so much…”
“I made you chicken noodle soup,” you said.
“Thank you,” he whispered, reaching for you but you leaned back.
“Leon, no. I can’t get sick, too. One of us has to keep this house running,” you said, firmly brushing his hands off your body. He whined again.
“So you’re really going to let me die without a kiss, huh? Wow.”
You chuckled. “You know, for being a tough government agent, you’re being a little bit dramatic right now.”
He groaned, a cough racking through his body again. “That’s just not true,” he insisted, his hands wandering again, slipping under your shirt.
“Leon,” you warned him, opening the bottle of Tylenol. “Here, take these.”
He obliged and you pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead. “Good boy.”
He chuckled and his hands immediately found your breasts, softly squeezing them. “You know, I think it’s actually very beneficial for my recovery to receive a kiss at least every five minutes. And body heat is also very important.”
You tried to lean away from him to prepare what you actually came here for, but no matter how whiny, he was a trained agent with great reflexes after all. Before you could react, he pulled up your shirt and slipped his head under it, burying his face in your chest.
“I thought you had a hard time breathing?” you asked, gently rubbing his shoulders.
“It’s already getting better,” he murmured, his voice muffled by your boobs. You sighed and he pulled your bra down, gently slipping one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on it.
“Oh my god, you’re just like your son.” You let out a defeated breath. “Only that your son is barely two years old.”
Leon let out a content sigh, as he kept sucking and kneaded your other breast with his free hand. “It’s actually also medically proven that sucking on boobies can help recover from any kind of illness.”
“Leon, stop. That’s for babies. You’re a grown man.”
“So?” he murmured, demonstratively coughing again, looking at you with puppy eyes. He knew full well those were your weakness. Jesus Christ, that man was impossible.
You pushed him off you.
“Here, open wide big boy,” you said, offering him a spoon with an entire clove of garlic covered in honey on it.
“Why do you always have to come in with your witchy shit? Why can’t we just be normal, take a Tylenol and call it a day?” He eyed the spoon in front of him and hissed like a cat.
“Oh?” your eyebrows shot up. “Look who’s already feeling better and obviously doesn’t need any tiddy time. Well in that case…” You faked getting up from the edge of the bed and Leon’s hand shot forward, snatching the spoon from you and pushing it into his mouth.
He grimaced as he chewed. “Happy now?”
“Not quite.” You handed him a glass full of cloudy yellow liquid. “Turmeric ginger shot. It’s good for you.”
He looked at you like you were about to betray him, then knocked back the drink in one go. He shuddered, sticking out his tongue.
“Oh come on,” you mocked him. “Leon shooting-whiskey-like-it’s-nothing Kennedy can’t handle a ginger shot? Are you sure you’re my husband?”
“Don’t ever question that, I love you,” he said, pressing his face back against your chest. “Thank you for taking care of me. You’re my favourite nurse.”
“And you’re my least favourite patient,” you said, not getting very far because Leon pulled you into bed with him.
“Leon,” you yelped, as he moved down, pushed your shirt up and cuddled up to your chest.
“I’m already feeling much better, you know.”
You huffed. “I have to get up to take the chicken soup off the heat.”
Leon shook his head, nuzzling your tits. “No, you don’t.”
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.
Summary: Your ex invites you to his wedding. Showing up alone would only prove him right all those years ago, but he deserves a kick in the brass cojones. Leon's nothing if not an enabler.
WC: 6k
CW: fake dating, established friendship as coworkers, nicknames, no use of y/n, no mention of ages, fluff, bad fish puns, mild angst/comfort, first kiss (real), happy ending
The mission is finally over. You know this because your desk is a fucking mess.
Printouts and clippings and folders lay thick enough to suffocate, and you’re still receiving tidbits and snippets that need to be sorted and distributed. You’ve lost your breakfast bar under the same newspaper, twice, in two different locations as you shuffle and juggle and group and discard.
The discard needs to be happening faster. Your waste bin is the cleanest thing in your cubicle.
Your finger traces under a line of text on page #3 of relevant dossier #7, transcribing it into your report one-handed, eyes intent on your computer screen. You’ve got earbuds in with box-fan white noise cranked to drown out the office phones and low-grade chatter from surrounding cubes. You’re already running your brain in ten different directions, working on your report while compiling documentation to share with the field agents for their reports, and they keep pinging your IM, hounding you for updates. You wish you could set your status to something more abrasive than “🔴 Do Not Disturb”.
On the one hand, you understand how the quick turnaround on mission reports means a direct tap into memory while it’s still fresh, but on the other – you’re all fucking exhausted, some of you are injured, and this feels a little bit like friendly fire. Especially when you’re the intelligence agent and your field operatives are all tugging on your metaphorical shirt hem, whining for your attention.
Something brushes your ear and you slap at it, whipping your head around. Of course you’d have a fly buzzing around your cubicle, now, too.
It’s not a fly. Leon Kennedy just took out one of your earbuds.
You clutch at your chest, the shock of finding an entire person standing behind you making your skin feel like it teleported 1cm to the left without you.
“You weren’t hearing me,” he says by way of an apology. You snatch the earbud back.
“That’s the POINT.”
“You said that info was on a thumb drive?”
“I said it will be,” you say, frazzled. “I’ve got like twenty balls in the air right now, Leon. Don’t break my concentration.”
“Can I help with anything?”
“Respect the status,” you snap, referring to the Do Not Disturb designation that he had bypassed by showing up in person.
Your tone echoes back in your ears and you shut your eyes, sighing and rubbing at a spot on your forehead. You can feel a monumental headache building, but that’s no reason to be nasty. Leon’s under the same tight deadlines.
“Sorry.”
“I get it,” he says, picking up the empty wrapper from your breakfast bar and transferring it to your trash can. There’s a deep scratch on his arm, gummy and raw, held shut with butterfly closures.
“I’ll have it ready by EOD,” you say, pronouncing the acronym like it’s a word. Ee-odd. It’s an olive branch poking up through the hellfire: an inside joke between the two of you. The corner of his mouth stretches into that half-smile.
“Roger, Earworm.”
The bastard thinks it’s a funny nickname: always the voice in my ear. And it is funny, because it was never mean-spirited. Some of the other field operatives get borderline malicious with their interpersonal nicknames.
You toss a balled-up paper at him; he twists and it bounces off his hip.
“So fuck off, Toothskin.”
When you’d first thrown that one back at him you’d won one of his genuine laughs, the kind you only got when you really surprised him. Always making it by the skin of your teeth.
A trainee had said once that your nicknames sounded mean, that they made you sound like unhygienic trolls or rotted goblins. They’d suggested something like Angel and Lucky instead, because it was sentimentally the same thing and positivity would strengthen your team dynamic.
Three guesses if they’d ever completed the program.
You’d never told Leon about that lunch room conversation. You didn’t need to watch him die laughing.
In your cubicle, his smile stretches a little wider, then he glances at his watch. Cursing under his breath, he leaves at an urgent clip. You’re already facing your computer again with your stolen earbud crammed back in.
The silent ticking of the clock remains deafening.
You love the sounds of coming home after a long day, but tonight it all sounds especially serene.
The thump of your shoes, kicked off carelessly in the foyer.
The shf of stiff fabric shed from your tired body, the blissful whisper of well-worn, downy-soft pajamas slipping over your skin.
The delicate clink of a wineglass; the full-throated cascade of a generous pour.
You take a heavy sip and lean against your kitchen island, closing your eyes and releasing a long breath. God. Trapped at your desk all day and then six hundred interceptions when you were finally allowed to leave? You felt like a fucking running back making a mad dash for the endzone. The night air had never tasted so sweet, once you'd finally made it through the doors.
Your oven makes a series of quiet clicks, coming back up to temperature. Even if dinner’s just thawed leftovers, again, you’d set yourself up for something fresh, too, because you fucking deserve it. You’re already starting to smell it. You take another sip of wine and smile.
And then you remember. It strikes you like a horrible bolt of lightning.
At the same time, your phone starts ringing on the countertop.
Incoming Call
Toothskin
“Fuck!”
You want to throw your wineglass. How the fuck did you forget?
> Answer
“Fuck, Leon, I’m so sorry, I completely fucked it–“
“Hey, whoa,” he says, but you’re still talking.
"It’s in my fucking bag, I was on my way to drop it off and I got–“
He says your name; you barely hear it.
“Fuck! I can’t believe I just fucking walked out– I’ll come drop it off, okay? I can– I’ll just … shit, the fucking oven–"
"HEY," he says, raising his voice. "I’m already in the car. What’s your location?"
When Leon knocks at your door, you swing it open and then hurry back into the house like a reverse doorbell-ditch. He blinks, hand still raised in a frozen knock.
“Just come in!” You shout over the beeping of the kitchen timer.
Leon steps inside and closes the door softly behind himself, looking around.
You hadn’t turned on any lights in the front hall; the kitchen sits as a literal light at the end of the tunnel. Leon clocks your tumbled shoes under your hanging coats, the splay of your keys on the side table where you’d tossed them. Ready to be fucking done with the day.
Despite the dark, the front hall is cozy. Your coats hold whispers of your perfume. There’s a hint of clean laundry and an undercurrent of something more complex, almost earthy; the house smells lived in. By you.
It also, overwhelmingly, smells like fresh bread.
You’re setting the steaming, crackling loaf on a cooling rack and slapping the oven gloves off of your hands when Leon wanders into the light of your kitchen.
"I didn’t know you baked,” he says, eyes on the dark golden crust, split open where you’d scored the dough.
"Not really mission-critical information," you say, and pull open your work bag that you’ve hauled onto the kitchen island. Digging around, you find the thumb drive, but it’s tumbled into the bottom next to another thumb drive that looks identical.
Neither are labeled.
"Of fucking course," you mutter, pulling out your laptop with jerky, frustrated motions. It clacks against the countertop; you stab the power button to boot it up. “What’s ten more hours, right?”
Leon doesn’t respond. He’s assessing: you, first and foremost, strung out and self-disparaging; the kitchen, dishes in the sink, scattered messes all over; the fridge door, covered in novelty magnets and a dry-erase calendar; the corkboard on the wall.
His attention snags.
Among photos and receipts and postcards (two are from him, brought back from some vibrantly unpleasant mission locations, as a joke), incongruously, there’s a large champagne-gold envelope with a broken wax seal, clearly torn open with some violence.
It’s stabbed into the corkboard with a paring knife.
You toss one of the thumb drives back into your bag and shove the correct one towards Leon across the kitchen island.
"Bingo," you say, then catch what he’s looking at. He gestures to it.
“Jury duty?”
You know he clocks your dark expression before you 180 into something that matches his jesting tone.
“Yeah the circuit court jumped on the discounted stationary when Party City closed.”
“You hate weddings that much?”
“It’s my fucking ex,” you say venomously, picking up your wine glass. “I almost have half a mind to show up just to congratulate him on the brass cojones. Maybe give him a swift kick in them.”
“Sounds like you should.”
“He’d get too much satisfaction from my missing plus-one,” you mutter. “Like aw, your job couldn’t make it tonight? Dickknuckle,” you add under your breath.
Leon’s watching you, a faint crease between his brows.
“What?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he starts, and your brow creases. “Do you want a plus-one?”
You chuff a laugh, but he doesn’t smile, so you drop yours.
“What, like you know a guy?”
“No. Like I am a guy.”
Your eyebrows lift.
“You want to attend my ex’s wedding.”
“If it means mission success in the swift-kick department, sure,” he says. You narrow your eyes.
“You don’t even know the guy.”
He glances at the stabbed envelope on the corkboard. The blade is lodged; you'd used some force.
“I trust your judgement.”
You cross your arms, searching for a teasing twinkle in his eye, a telltale twitch of his mouth, but he’s just gazing back at you levelly.
“You’re serious,” you realize.
“Always am.”
“Please,” you scoff, but you uncross your arms and reach for your bread knife, throwing him a sidelong glance. Considering. “I’ll think about it.”
He picks up the thumb drive, tosses it in the air and catches it.
“Do that,” he says. “I’ll let myself out.”
“Wait,” you call after him, and he backs up to lean through the kitchen doorway. Wordlessly, you hold out a thick, steaming slice of the fresh bread. “For the trouble.”
He takes it.
He’s halfway to the front door when you hear him groan loud, almost obscene.
“Fuck that’s good.”
The front door closes.
His voice echoes in your ears for a while. Your cheeks are only pink from the heat of the kitchen; you turn and shut the oven off.
Earworm The mission, should you choose to accept it:
A photo loads into the text thread and Leon taps it open.
It’s the wedding invite. There’s a narrow slit bisecting the date, the same width as a paring knife blade.
He skims the details.
Mid-July. Out of state. Outdoors, in a nature preserve. Strictly formal, but no black or white dress.
He eyes the font, the thick textured paper with raw, ripped edges, the embossed leaf detailing.
It’s a vegan menu, isn’t it, he texts back.
Earworm Pescetarian
He snorts. Another text drops in from you.
Earworm You can plant the invite. Grows forget-me-nots
Of course it does.
Earworm Thought about wearing white but they might have me shot
There’s strength in numbers.
Earworm Enabler
Is this not Operation Rock The Boat?
Earworm Can’t rock it if we’re kicked out. Game plan is malicious compliance
… you’re putting me in a dress, aren’t you.
Earworm Hmm. Tempting.
There’s a fucking chandelier in the fitting room.
Under the sparkling, crystalline light, surrounded by three floor-to-ceiling mirrors, you take in your chosen battle dress from every angle.
“Yeah, that’ll do it,” you say out loud.
“You’re done already?” Leon’s voice is muffled, closed in another cubicle across the wide, thin carpet.
“It’s a slip dress,” you call back. “Not many fastenings to tangle with.”
It’s an avocado green slip dress, silky and alluring, with thin shoulder straps and a scoopy cowl neck. It’s definitely your shade. It highlights your freckles and your eyes; it shows off your arms, your collarbones, your neck. What it doesn’t reveal, it hints at, like a prize behind a curtain.
You turn again to admire the back. It’s a lot of cake to be bringing to someone else’s wedding, but he invited it.
You step out into the main space. There are more chandeliers overhead and a mirrored sort of apse at the end of the carpeted runway.
You can hear clothing rustling behind the door of the fitting room directly across from you.
“Sure you can manage all those buttons?”
The door opens and Leon’s there, looking down to fix the lay of his lapels.
“Not quite my kryptonite, but thank–“
He looks up and forgets what he's saying. Forgets where he's going, too. He stands frozen outside his fitting room, just staring at you.
That’s okay; you’re staring at him, too.
The last time you’d seen him in a suit, you were behind a desk watching a grainy, quarter-screen, black-and-white camera feed. That had had very little impact.
This? This has impact. It’s punched your stomach into a somersault.
This suit is camel-brown, the dress shirt a pastel green. The cut of the suit accentuates his broad shoulders, his tight waist; the pants make his legs look longer. The shirt brings out the green in his grey eyes, makes his skin – his lips – look a little pinker.
You were already well aware of how handsome he is, in a rugged, untouchable, dangerous Special Agent sort of way. But he’s standing here in the suit that you picked to compliment your dress and you can’t remember anyone looking more fucking attractive ever in your entire life.
And the way he always carries himself with that self-assuredness, like nothing could ever bowl him over?
He’s staring at you, and he’s looking a little bowled over.
The moment is gone just as quickly as it arrived. He pushes his hand through his hair and the unflappable Leon is back.
“Don’t you clean up nice.”
You shut your mouth with a click.
“Speak for yourself,” you say, heading for the mirrors at the end of the runway. He follows you, standing just behind your shoulder.
The two of you are a fucking one-two knockout. You look so good together, you can’t face it for more than a few blinding seconds before your chest starts feeling tight.
You sit down heavily on one of the velvet chairs between fitting room doors and manage not to put your head in your hands. Leon looks down at himself, smoothing a hand over the buttons of his suit.
“You don’t like it.”
"No, it’s fucking perfect," you bite out.
"What’s wrong?"
"This whole thing is ridiculous. I’m being ridiculous." You're short on breath. You can feel panic rising, tight bands around your lungs. You do put your head in your hands, clutching at your hair to stop the tremble in your fingers.
"Hey," he says, crouching down in front of you. "Where’s this coming from?"
"Why am I dragging you into this? I don’t care about him or what he thinks! I don’t care!"
"I volunteered," Leon reminds you.
"Why?"
He does the facial equivalent of a shrug.
"No bioweapons? Open bar? You tell me.”
You unclench your fists from your hair and sit back to look at him, your head against the wall. He meets your gaze, calm and even.
He’s so fucking beautiful. You can’t let on about the gymnastics routine your stomach’s doing.
“If his brother's there, don't rule out bioweapons,” you say.
“Mm. BO?”
You shake your head. “GI.”
“Noted. Book of matches for a quick escape.”
You close your eyes, huffing a little laugh through your nose.
“We’re not locked into anything,” he tells you quietly. “You’re calling the shots.”
“Mm,” you acknowledge, and take a deep breath. “Just another mission.”
“With free dinner.”
Something lands on your knee and you open your eyes; it’s Leon’s hand, palm-up. A question. An offering.
You give him a pained look.
“It’s pescetarian.”
“Could be a red herring.”
Your gaze goes wooden. He raises his eyebrows, innocent.
“Ugh, I hate you,” you say, but clap your hand into his waiting palm. He hauls you to your feet. And he’s not done.
"A bait-and-switch?"
"Stop," you groan, shoving him towards his fitting room.
"A shell game.”
"Ignoring you!" The door to your fitting room shuts and you start wriggling out of the dress.
You almost rip it when Leon yells FISH from across the way and you fall into helpless laughter.
Toothskin Have you checked the registry?
I’m liking the 200-year-old sourdough starter
Toothskin Old yeast… what milestone anniversary is that?
200th. Keep up
And then the day arrives.
Leon puts the Porsche in park and you both sit back, observing the battlefield.
The nature preserve vista stretches vast beyond the front bumper, all dappled sunlight and swaying greens with scatters of bright, energetic color. The sky is a vibrant blue and dotted with cotton-puff clouds, the birds are singing, and there’s enough of a breeze to prevent stagnant air without upsetting meticulous hairstyles. It’s a perfect day in a gorgeous setting.
You’re clutching the invite, unawares, and the heat and moisture from your hands has warped the textured paper. Leon glances down and gently tugs it from your grasp.
“Talk to me.”
“I’m just… trying to remember the last time I saw him.”
“On the Save the Date.”
“Heard him, then. I’m trying to remember what he said to me.”
“Do you think he remembers?”
“No.”
“Blank slate, then,” Leon says, glancing in the rearview. Guests are meandering towards the gap in the low, rustic wooden fence, trickling into the sanctuary. “What are your boundaries?”
“What?”
“As your date. We covered our story; what’s your stance on PDA?”
“Oh.” You wave it off. “I don’t expect you to do anything.”
He scoffs, incredulous. “We’re at a wedding, as a couple, and you look like that,” he says, indicating your whole look with a pointed raise of his eyebrows. “You want people to think you’re dating a eunuch?”
You stare at him like you’re going to fire something back, but there’s nothing in the chamber. He’s disarmed you. Maybe fried your circuitry a little.
“Here,” he prompts, and holds his hand out over the gear shift. “Do you like holding hands with a partner?”
You can’t be this flustered. He’s just gathering intel for the undercover operation. This is tactical.
You take his hand, feigning nothing but mild agreement while your traitorous pulse picks up.
“Sure, it’s fine.”
He adjusts, lacing your fingers together, watching your face.
“Still fine?”
“Still fine.” His palm is warm and rough, callouses at the base of every finger from intensive strength training. His thumb lightly strokes your hand.
“If I touch your back?”
You tamp down a shiver, keeping your voice neutral.
“Fine, from the waist up.”
“Your hair?”
“Why my hair?”
He gently frees his hand, brushes his fingers over your ear like he’s fixing a windblown lock.
“Okay, yeah, that’s fine.”
He traces his thumb from your temple down to your jaw, delineating the side of your face.
“Is this okay to kiss?”
Despite the car still running and the AC blowing, your skin is hot and buzzing and you’re feeling that tight panic start to threaten your lungs again. It’s too close and intimate in here. You swat his hand away.
“Look, I know you’re good at reading a room, okay? So I’ll trust you. Just don’t fucking grope me in front of the bride’s grandma and I think we’ll be fine.”
“Killjoy.”
You sharpen on him. He just blinks at you owlishly, unthreatened.
You poke him in the side, where you know he’s sensitive. He clamps his arm down and jerks away.
“Alright, roger! No show for grandma!”
It pokes you back, right in the funny bone. You collapse into laughter, forehead pressed into his shoulder, and the bands around your chest loosen.
When you recover, he’s still smiling quietly, smug. You give him a shove, then double check your makeup in the visor mirror.
“Alright, let’s go, before all the worst seats are taken.”
The ceremony is gorgeous.
The altar stands under the strong, reaching branches of an ancient oak, in a serene forest clearing bordered by flickering tea lights in pristine mason jars. The bride looks Barbie-perfect in her flawless bright white dress, and the groom – your ex – is practically glowing himself. She’s probably got him on a juice detox, yoga regimen and seventeen-step skincare routine. But it’s working.
They look beautiful together, and hopelessly in love.
Your hands have knotted in your lap and your jaw is clenched tight.
You’re not jealous.
Well. You’re not jealous of her for who she’s marrying. You might be jealous of… everything else.
Something touches your wrist. It’s Leon, and just the warmth of his fingers on your skin dissolves your acidity.
Your hands unknot as Leon slips his fingers in with yours, his palm a warm and comfortable weight. You hook your free hand loose at his elbow, hugging his arm, and he leans in to press a kiss to your temple, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You lean into it.
At the end of the ceremony, the freshly-minted husband and wife make a bottleneck that guests have to pass through on their way to the reception tent. You’re in line, wondering when ‘congratulations’ will stop sounding like a real word.
There are only seven people in line ahead of you. You’re breathing even, because you’re not anxious. You’re fine.
“Should I tell him he’s got a seed in his hair?” Leon’s speaking low right next to your ear, his eyes on the man in front of you in line. You refocus; it’s the type of seed that travels on the wind with a bit of fluff, like a dandelion. The guy’s hair is dark enough that it’s not hard to spot.
You turn your head to speak in Leon’s ear.
“No. Ten he’ll never notice.”
He smirks.
“Fifteen his wife won’t, either.”
Five people ahead of you.
“Bad bet, she’s hardly looked at him since they stood up. Twenty it’s a random stranger that tells him.”
“Bad bet, you’re a random stranger,” he says, his breath tickling your ear.
Three people ahead of you. You’re biting back a smile.
“Damn.”
Leon’s hand hasn’t left your waist.
“You came!”
Your ex lights up when he sees you next in line, and you’re even more surprised when he goes in for the hug. Leon feels you move towards it on rote and lets you go; the hug is light and short-lived. Your ex’s frame seems smaller than you remember, but maybe that’s because you’ve had Leon glued to your hip. He’s taller than your ex, maybe all in the swoop of his bronze hair, but he’s definitely… bigger.
“God, you look incredible,” your ex is saying, but there’s no depth or heat to it. It sounds just like it would if you were two former friends that hadn’t seen each other in almost a decade, and that hits you… strangely. You were lovers, for fuck’s sake, you were together for more than three years! Why did he invite you here if it wasn’t to gloat? To rub all this in your face? You hadn’t separated on good terms, but there isn’t a shred of animosity you’re getting from him right now. He truly just seems happy to see you.
And, annoyingly, that comes as a relief even while it stumbles you. It’s like you were holding the end of a wire at tension only to find it wasn’t attached to anything. You can’t help but feel a little childish about it, but in your defense, the wedding invite completely out of the blue? That was a crazy thoughtless move. How many other exes had been invited today, and how many had shown? How many other invites were still stabbed into a corkboard somewhere?
So maybe you’ve stretched your legs for nothing. His cojones aren’t brass, he’s just kinda dumb. And you know what? Good for him.
You return to Leon’s bubble and his hand is right back at your waist, casually possessive. You wind your arm around his back while you enthuse – and it is genuine – how stunning and happy the bride and groom look together. Your ex pulls his new wife close and kisses the side of her face, then gestures to Leon.
“And who’s your lucky gentleman?”
Leon lets you introduce him – you're calling the shots – shaking hands before settling in against you again, and you can feel his attention’s on you. You can see them seeing something on his face and you look up at him.
Your tummy backflips.
His eyes are so soft and fond, looking between yours. There’s a shade of something that looks like pride, too, and you wonder if he can feel that the fight’s left your body.
He kisses your forehead, then offers the bride and groom another congrats and beautiful ceremony and we’ll see you inside, opening your exit. You walk out together from the shade of the forest, into the July sun, and the light breeze greets you smelling sweet and hot and floral.
When you’re out of earshot, he speaks.
“What’s our sitrep?”
You sigh, defeated.
“You wanna go, don’t you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You signed on for violence.”
“Maybe at first.” The two of you have to break to walk apart on an uneven stretch of path, so he takes your hand instead. “We leave now, what’re the optics?”
“A shellfish allergy.”
“Weak,” he heckles. He’s right. Leaving now would look suspicious.
You tug his hand, grimly indicating the reception tent when he meets your gaze.
“That’s the hot zone. Last chance to run.”
He rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck, tightens the lace of your fingers together.
“I don’t give up that easy.”
“How did you two meet?”
Of course, as soon as the seat beside Leon vacates one ass, this one drops into it. You remember her from Thanksgivings and Christmases with your ex’s family, and here she is again with that ominous glint in her eye, wine glass already in hand. You grip Leon’s thigh under the table in warning.
“Hi, Auntie.”
“Hello, dear. You’re looking so well," she says, scrunching her nose condescendingly. "So how’d you dupe this one?”
Leon straightens from his casual lean, facing her better while resting his arm over the back of your chair.
“Aren’t we charming.”
Wine Aunt sets her chin in her hand, one eyebrow cocked as she looks Leon up and down, indiscreet. He’d abandoned his suit jacket a while ago, sleeves rolled up his arms, tie stuffed into his pocket so he could unbutton his collar a little. He does look fucking delicious, but you want to scoop out her slimy eyes for ogling him like that.
“Mmm. Certainly,” she purrs at him. So she’s forfeited her tongue, now, too.
You see Leon give her a subtly disgusted up-down in return before he turns his full attention to you instead.
“Met you at work,” he says to you, and you’re obsessed with the way he’s effectively answering Wine Aunt while also cutting her out of the conversation. He glances up at your hair, brushes it back from your forehead. “It was just your voice at first, lots of phone calls. And then I got to meet you.”
Your tummy’s not just fluttering, it’s kicking you. He’s too good at sounding like this, warm and fond and genuine. It’s starting to pinch behind your ribs.
It’s just a show. You’re playing in it, too.
Wine Aunt’s bringing her glass to her lips, muttering something like isn’t that sweet, expression fully soured. You can see she’s turned away, scanning the tables for her next victim, and your quiet smile at Leon grows a sharpened edge of victory. Then she leaves without another word and you have to bite back a full grin.
“Did she really just try to come on to me?”
“She’s notorious.”
“Mm. I thought about saying we met at an AA meeting, but she wouldn't know anything about that.”
Your eyes sparkle with dark delight. “Leon Kennedy. You are here for violence.”
You both jump when the speakers give a sudden feedback screech, the DJ raising his arm in apology before checking the microphone again. He announces it’s time for the speeches, and Leon exchanges a harrowed glance with you before grabbing both your empty drinks glasses.
“Same again?”
“Stronger.”
You haven’t been to a single wedding where the speeches didn’t set your teeth on edge.
Tonight might be the worst yet. You’re glad, at least, that there’s a literal spotlight somewhere else in the tent, leaving your table in heavy shadow. Both you and Leon look like you're on trial awaiting a heavy verdict rather than listening to weepy, heartfelt sentiments and weak jokes that rarely land.
Your fingers draw aimless lines up and down your drink glass, smearing through the condensation. Your eyes are on Leon’s back; he’s hunched forward, elbows on the table.
You listen to different iterations of the same gist, hear the same buzzwords, over and over.
Proud. Deserve. Love. Peace. Safety. Long life. Happiness. Together.
They all land like darts, piercing you.
Halfway through the father of the bride’s speech, Leon gets up, unreadable. He sets his hand on your back and leans down, his voice low and even.
“I’ll be right back.”
It’s calm, casual. Normal.
The giveaway is when his whiskey goes with him, and the direction he heads.
Not for the bathroom. Not for the bar.
The exit.
The reception tent is set up next to a huge, beautifully manicured garden courtyard, all high shrubs and fragrant bushes and bursting clusters of flowers lining stone paths that stretch and curve and cross over each other, a loose labyrinth. In the middle of it all stands a large stone fountain, its cascade a gentle burble rather than a showy spray, its wide pool full of blooming lilypads and the white and orange flicker of koi fish. Above it is a massive circular pergola, a slat-wooded ring dripping with cafe lights and vining flowers like a great wild halo.
The loudspeakers in the tent become just a shapeless thrum once you’re past the first wall of shrubs, and the summer chorus of crickets and frogs work to drown it out entirely. The sun’s almost down; fireflies are flashing and flickering in the dense foliage as you navigate the paths, heading for the sound of water.
And that’s exactly where you find him.
Leon’s sitting on the edge of the stone pool, head down, whiskey glass hanging from loose fingers. For a moment you just stand quietly and watch him breathe.
“Hey.”
He looks up; straightens and clears his throat, casually sipping at his drink.
“Hey,” he echoes.
“You don’t have to do that,” you tell him, moving in closer. His eyes reflect the cafe lights like little stars as he looks up to meet your approach. There’s a subtle tightness to his expression, a shadow lurking, but if you didn’t know him like you do, you’d never recognize it. He’s too well trained.
“Do what?”
“Hide.”
He doesn’t deny it. He lowers his gaze and downs the last of his drink.
“You’re missing the speeches,” he says instead.
“Chad has the microphone."
He huffs a humorless laugh through his nose. A breeze meanders through the gardens, stirring through his hair. Not really thinking about it, you trace one finger lightly across his forehead, back over his ear, his hair falling softly back into place. He meets your eyes but your gaze is distant.
The both of you have sacrificed so much, willingly or otherwise, for your line of work. That’s why it’s not you at the sweetheart table tonight, and why it probably never will be. You’ve learned how to ignore the empty spaces, to close them off within yourselves so you can keep moving forward, because you can both see the bigger picture and your places within it.
What you do creates space for happy endings, fights to maintain that space. Tries, every day, to broaden it.
You know you’ve both long given up on the idea that the fight will ever be over. After two decades, it’s inescapable: there will always be something lurking in the shadows, growing in labs, lying in wait. The only way this will end for you is in death; as long as you’re alive, you have to keep going. That’s your lifelong commitment.
You can train yourself to endure the emptiness all you want. It’s still fucking lonely.
But if today has proven anything to you, it’s that you’re not alone. For once, you’re not by yourself behind a desk in some dark safehouse while Leon's out who-knows-where, running with Death on his heels. For the first time, he’s here, he’s right in front of you, you can touch him, comfort him the way you’ve always wished you could, hearing him breathe brokenly down the comms on particularly difficult missions.
And what missions weren’t difficult?
“Thank you for being here,” you tell him quietly, distantly. You card his hair back over his ear, still busy in your own head, just liking how it feels. His hair is soft, and his strands of silver look like threads of gold in the warm, soft lighting.
His hand, resting on his own thigh, brushes your leg through the silky fall of your skirt. You’re standing between his legs at the edge of a bubbling fountain, playing with his hair while fireflies dance in the fragrant summer air around you.
Your fingers hesitate, starting to curl like a dying vine near his temple as the awareness sets in. But before you can draw your hand away, he dips his head to brush your fingers against his hair again.
Don’t go.
His eyes close and his head sways back when you comb both of your hands into his hair, nails scratching lightly along his scalp. His hands are settled on your legs now, just leaning there, still rested on his own thighs. His shoulders are loose, tension drained, and his lips are parted.
It’s such a show of trust that it almost overwhelms you. Not only are you blocking sightlines but his head is in your hands, and despite the nooks and shadows of the courtyard all around you, he's got his eyes closed. This is more surrendered than you’ve ever seen him.
You know he’s lethal, body honed not just to handle weapons, but into a weapon itself. He can snap a spine with the heel of his palm. He can crush a skull with his foot, send a body absolutely sailing with the strength of his legs.
But he’s also been one of the kindest, gentlest people you know. He cracks stupid jokes when he knows you’re wound up, but only after checking in with you. He looks at you with such adoration. He touches you with respect and care.
Is all of it really just for the role?
His lashes are a thick, dark sweep over the tops of his cheeks. You run your thumb over his eyebrow, lightly down the bridge of his nose, and he opens his eyes. You can see the green in his irises as he studies you; the dark halo of blue that rings them.
“I like this better," he tells you.
"What?"
He touches his ear, miming an earpiece, then sets his hands on your hips, light. Easily moved or brushed away. You do neither.
Your heart thumps a little faster. This touch is not waist-up.
This isn’t the role.
You lean down, speaking directly against the shell of his ear.
“Don't get used to it, Kennedy.”
You’ve barely finished saying his name before he’s turned his head and caught your lips in a kiss.
You draw back a little, startled, your lips buzzing. His eyes are half-lidded looking up at you, unapologetic.
“No one’s watching,” you check.
“I know.” He looks down at your lips.
Your hands skim his jaw, his stubble rasping against your skin.
“This was never about aiding in my revenge, was it.”
He shakes his head. His thumbs are stroking your hipbones through the silk of your dress.
"I just wanted this," he admits.
Suspended within the summer song of crickets and frogs, under whispering leaves and beside softly burbling water, you lean down and kiss him. His hands slide up to your waist, mouth so tender on yours, kissing you back while the fireflies wink and dance around you.
You’re not alone.
On AO3
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Summary: You and Leon have been broken up for a long time but you still co-parent. After your daughter's seventh birthday party things got a little heated. But it's fine, right?
Notes: Leon is such a good boy in this one. Enjoy, you lovely people and let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part <3
WC: 4.2k
“You’re not fucking him again, are you?” Michelle, your only non-momfriend leaned against the counter.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you retorted, bending down to get a better look at the brownies in the oven.
Michelle huffed. “I’m only saying … you’re making a lot of excuses for absent father behaviour. The only thing I can think of that could cause that kind of amnesia is dick.”
You motioned for her to step aside as you opened the oven door, took out the tray and placed it on the counter. “When these cool, try them for taste, will you?”
“Don’t try to change the subject. I’ll gladly remind you of you ugly crying in my apartment when that Ada girl picked up his phone in the middle of the night.”
You sighed. “Michelle, I’m not fucking him again. In fact, I’m not fucking anyone. And especially not at my daughter’s seventh birthday party.”
She narrowed her eyes on you. “Show me your bra.”
“What?”
“If you’re not trying to fuck him, why are you wearing a matching set? I saw your thong when you bent over to take the brownies out.”
“Michelle,” you squealed and pulled your jeans up by the belt hoops.
She chuckled. “Only messing with you.” She tentatively dabbed a finger on one of the brownies to check the consistency. “Very suspicious reaction though, I gotta say.”
You grimaced. You better not tell her you also shaved your entire body last night. Not for Leon obviously. Just in case some attractive dad showed their face or something and you wanted to feel confident. Or who were you kidding? You wanted to feel confident in your own skin in order to deal with the other parents. You hadn’t seen a hot single dad in a long time. And even if you did, they didn’t have any time either.
Meeting someone and getting laid as a single parent was no easy feat. You simply had no time to date and no interest to open up your life enough to let anyone in properly. Besides Lottie, there was no room for anyone taking up your time. Even for casual sex, you needed to organise a babysitter. Most men just weren’t worth the effort. But you and Michelle both agreed you deserved some fun encounters every once in a while.
“How many grams did you put in these?”
You blinked. “What?”
Michelle inspected the brownies, deadpan.
“It’s my daughter’s birthday party, I did not bake space brownies.”
“But wouldn’t it be so funny if you did?” She shot you a grin and you couldn’t help but chuckle.
“The kids aren’t even the problem, the other moms however,” you blew out a breath.
“Here.” Michelle handed you a cup of coffee. “And fuck them, you do everthing for your daughter. You even baked her brownies from scratch because she requested them,” your friend replied, using her hands to fan said brownies as if that would make them cool quicker.
“Show me one of those suburban bitches who could handle being a single mom, hm?”
You sighed, tentatively taking a sip of coffee and leaning back against the counter. “I feel like I’m never doing enough, you know?”
She gently touched your shoulder, but her gaze was stern. “Which brings me back to Leon needing to step the fuck up.”
You ran a finger along the rim of the cup. “It’s complicated, you know that.”
Michelle shook her head in annoyance. “There’s nothing complicated about being a little more involved in the ballet recitals and parent-teacher meetings. You work shifts at the diner and still get it all done.”
“I take Lottie with me sometimes. It’s not like he can do that,” you said.
Michelle lifted her cup to her full lips. “Please, he’s a cop, not some kind of government special agent working in bioweapons or something.”
You choked on your coffee, coughing and gasping for air. You had never told Michelle anything. Leon’s job was highly confidential. The fact that she had just casually hit bull’s eye caught you off guard.
While you were battling asphyxiation, she checked her watch.
“What time is he showing up anyway?” You avoided her gaze. He was Lottie’s dad. Granted, he hadn’t been an angel and there were a bunch of reasons you two had called it quits, but neither of you had planned to have a baby at twenty-one either.
Just like Leon hadn’t planned on showing up to his first day of work the night after you had told him you were pregnant and the world quite literally ending. Just like you hadn’t planned on the father of your child being force recruited into a top secret government programme right after you had given birth.
It was all a little much to go through while your frontal lobe wasn’t fully developed yet. And neither of you knew even the first thing about being healthy partners for each other.
“You’re making excuses for him in your head again, aren’t you?” Michelle’s voice cut through your thoughts like a knife.
You opened your mouth to retort something but the doorbell rang and you raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s probably him.”
You glanced outside, hoping to see Leon’s car in your driveway, even just to prove your point. Instead, you saw your daughter’s friend Brinleigh-Mae and her god awful mother. The first guests of the afternoon. “Shit,” you cursed and Michelle craned her neck to see who it was.
“Where do you keep your whiskey?” she mouthed and pointed her chin at your coffee cup, as she took it out of your hands. “I’ll make us some Irish coffees.” You shook your head no and walked up to the door, but not missing the casual shrug Michelle did before tiptoeing to one of your cabinets.
Brinleigh’s mother greeted you with the fakest smile you had ever seen. “Where’s the birthday girl?”
You smiled back, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “She’s upstairs. You’re a little early,” you said. “Hi Brinleigh.”
The mom pushed her child forward into your house, her floral perfume wafting over you. “We were hoping to finally meet Mr. Kennedy. Lottie has been talking about him non stop the past few days.”
You pursed your lips, cheeks growing hot. “He’s not here.” You cleared your throat. “Yet.”
“I am,” you heard Leon’s voice coming from further up the driveway. He had just gotten out of his car, carrying a giant present for Lottie. “Sorry, I’m late. I’m so jetlagged.”
The timbre of his voice made your stomach flutter. Fuck. Shit. Fuck, shit, fuck, god, fuck. How sex-starved were you that all of a sudden your ex started to sound delicious again? He looked delicious, too.
To your horror, he pressed a feather light kiss to your temple and you caught Michelle watching you both through the kitchen window. You squeezed your lips together, hands hanging by your side because if you lifted them and returned his hug, you would come dangerously close to his bicep.
Michelle held up the coffee cup and a bottle of liquor, nodding. “I got you,” she mouthed and you sent a small express prayer upstairs to live through this kids birthday party unscathed.
Much to your surprise, you actually made it to the end of the night alive. And much to Michelle’s dismay, Leon did really step up today and took the lead in pretty much everything. He apologised for showing up late and promised you he'd take over from here so you could just sit back and enjoy spending Lottie’s seventh birthday with her.
After all the presents had been opened and nearly all of the brownies were gone, Lottie insisted on being carried to bed. Leon would never deny his daughter a single wish and lifted her up in one smooth motion, her hands locked tight around his neck. The sight of it pulled on your heartstrings---and your ovaries.
You frantically searched for Michelle’s eyes, but she just slapped her thighs and murmured, “Well, time for me to go.”
“Wait,” you reached out an arm toward her like Lottie had reached out for Leon earlier.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Michelle whispered before slipping into her coat and boots.
“That doesn’t help,” you hissed, but she just shrugged and pulled the door shut behind her. You rubbed your temples and your gaze fell onto the whiskey Michelle had brought out to spice up your coffees. You hadn’t had any, of course. But all the kids were gone now, so you figured why not?
You changed into your pyjamas, put your hair up in a messy bun and poured yourself a glass, leaving all the paper plates and food scraps for tomorrow morning. You were absolutely wrecked. Hanging out with a whole bunch of seven year olds running a muck in your house and trying to keep them all alive—no matter how present Leon was in all this—was no joke.
“She’s out,” Leon murmured, closing the door to the hallway.
“Fancy a drink?”
He looked at you, eyes snagging on the way your boy shorts barely contained the curve of your ass. “Sure.”
You poured him a glass too and sat down on the couch, patting the seat next to you. “You did great today.”
You felt the couch dip beside you. “Don’t lie. I was so late.” He threw back his drink in one go. “I want to do better. I know I haven’t shown up for Lottie as much as I should have. I didn’t even know she’s been having all those ballet recitals.”
You grimaced, but didn’t say anything. He figured it out himself, good.
“So you can stop punishing me now.”
“Punish you?” your brows shot up and your head whipped around to him.
“You’re wearing the same shirt you broke up with me in. Which is also my shirt. The irony isn’t lost on me.”
“I—,” you lifted up the hem of your shirt a little, barely exposing a sliver of skin above your belly button. You hadn’t even realised what you were wearing. Or had been wearing to bed almost every night, your favourite pyjama combo. It was his. Oh hell no.
Leon drew in a sharp breath. Was he…? No, surely not. For all you knew he was having a weird on and off again fling with that Ada girl.
“I can take it off, if it bothers you,” you murmured, taking a sip from your drink.
“God, no,” Leon cut in, frantically and you looked at him. His eyes flicked to your chest for only a split second, but you saw it clear as day. You rolled your shoulders back a little, lifting up your boobs with the barely detectable movement.
“Are you—did you—” Leon furrowed his brows, leaning forward, staring shamelessly at your tits. “Did you get your nipples pierced?”
You huffed out a laugh. “Oh those? Yeah, Michelle’s idea.”
It was the whiskey for sure. Because nowhere near in your sober mind would you ever do what you were about to do next. You pulled the shirt over your head, exposing your pierced tits to Leon, the waft of cold air making your nipples harden.
Leon licked his lips. “Interesting.” He peeled his gaze away. “I uh, I should probably leave.” He shifted on the couch.
“Okay,” you whispered, your cheeks hot with embarrassment. Had you actually just shown Leon of all people your pierced nipples when he didn’t even ask? You slung your arms around your chest, waiting for Leon to get up and leg it.
But he didn’t. His mouth opened and closed like he didn’t know what to say, all while his hands were awkwardly propped up either side of his thighs. Your gaze fell onto the prominent bulge in his pants. Oh.
You let your arms fall to your sides, casually leaning back on your elbows. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. You didn’t think Michelle meant Leon, but sure who cared about the fine print?
Fuck it. In fact, fuck him. You deserved a little bit of fun. Who was taking care of Lottie? Putting food on the table, driving her to ballet twice a week? You deserved a reward.
When Leon didn’t look, you got up and casually took his glass. “Another one?”
He lifted his head, coming face to face with your chest. “Or do you want to keep pretending like we’re not both not thinking about screwing each other’s brains out right now? Your choice.” That was all Leon needed.
His hands pulled at the back of your thighs and you collapsed into his lap with a yelp. His mouth was on your tits instantly, sucking your nipple and the cold metal between his lips. “Why do they taste like house keys?”
“Because you’re home, baby,” you whispered and gasped when he trailed kisses up your neck and crashed your lips to his. You couldn’t believe you were kissing Leon like that, all needy and pathetic. Panting and rubbing up against him like a sex-crazed whore. But he was just as bad as you, pressing his rock hard cock into you, the fabric of your boy short barely numbing any sensation.
“Leon, we shouldn’t be doing this,” you whispered, as he grabbed a fistful of your ass and bucked up against you.
“Tell me no and I’ll stop,” he breathed, but you didn’t tell him to stop. Instead you rubbed your pussy up against the seam of his jeans, desperate for the friction of it. Ever the attentive lover, Leon noticed instantly and slipped one hand between you, groaning when he felt the slick wetness seeping through the fabric of your shorts.
“We’ll do this just this once,” he whispered, fingers dipping beneath your waistband. “Just for me to apologise and—fuck.” A finger slipped into you to the knuckle like it was nothing. “You’re so wet.” He started curling his finger inside your walls, his thumb gently pressing against your clit. Your back arched, pressing your pierced tits into his face.
“Lottie,” you hissed. “What if she comes in?”
Leon groaned into your chest, slipping his hands out between your legs and you squirmed at the loss. He hooked his arms under your legs and lifted you off the couch. Without even looking where he was going, he kept kissing you like his life depended on it, as he carried you to your bedroom. He still knew his way around. Of course. This used to be his house, too.
He locked the door and you fumbled for his belt, popping open the button on his pants. He set you down and slipped his shirt over his head, revealing the muscled plains of his stomach rippling under smooth skin. You reached out for the scar right under his ribcage and he shivered at the touch. The next kiss was sweeter, softer and he rested his head against yours, as he watched you push his pants over his hips.
“I missed you,” he breathed, eyes locked to yours.
“Don’t,” you whispered, eyes fluttering shut as you pushed his boxers down, too. “Just fuck me, Leon, please.”
His cock sprang free, the heavy length of it hitting your belly. Leon quite possibly had the prettiest cock you had ever seen. Long and thick, slightly curved at the tip that was already glistening for you. Your mouth watered at the sheer sight of him. You wanted to kiss it, lick it, taste it. Dropping to your knees, you pulled his hips forward, looking up at him as your lips barely ghosted over the tip.
Leon stared at you, brows drawn together in helpless arousal, full lips parted. “Fuck,” he exhaled shakily and your tongue darted forward, giggling at the moan that elicited from him. He tasted salty and like soft skin that was begging for your touch, stretched over hard flesh. You tentatively licked up the seam on the head of his cock and Leon’s head fell back and his hips pushed forward, desperate for you to take him into your mouth.
You clicked your tongue in disapproval. “Be a good boy for me and stay in place.”
Leon whined and covered his face with his arm. “Lick it, suck it, fucking do something.”
“Ah, ah, ah,” you scolded him again. “Be nice.”
“Please, suck me off, ah—” he pleaded and you finally licked in one broad stroke over his tip, closed your lips around him and sucked him in, hollowing out your cheeks. His desperate groan went straight between your legs, and you hummed in response, the vibration drawing a whimper from Leon. A hand threaded into your hair, removing the hair tie and gathering it up at the back of your head by himself. You pushed forward, taking him deeper, until the head of his cock hit the back of your throat and saliva ran down either side of it. You gagged and came back up for air, a string of spit connecting your lips to your favourite toy.
Leon cursed and his eyes found yours, realigning his cock with your mouth and pushing in slowly. You sucked at it, gliding up and down his thick length, never breaking eye contact. Leon’s eyes glazed over and his lips twitched, a loud moan falling from his lips as you sank down again, throat bobbing around him.
“Ah fuck, oh fuck, holy shit,” he whined, pulling you off him by your hair, releasing him with a lewd popping sound.
He didn’t say a word before he manhandled you onto the bed, pressing his hips flush into yours.
“Do you have protection?” he breathed heavily, one arm caging you in, the other pinching your pierced nipple. You pressed your eyes shut, at the sensation and at the realisation you had absolutely no condoms in your house whatsoever. You shook your head, squirming underneath him and rubbing your slick folds against his cock.
Leon swallowed, aligning himself with your entrance, circling your clit with his other hand. “It’s fine, I’ll pull out,” he panted.
It wasn’t fine. That’s how you had ended up with Lottie in the first place. But you were too far gone to be burdened with reason now.
He pushed in and you whined at the delicious stretch, clawing at his shoulders, leaving little half-moon indents in his smooth skin.
“Fuck, Leon, you feel so good,” you moaned, as he started moving, pushing in a little deeper at every thrust. “You’re so big.” Your lips fell open in a perfect ‘o’ shape and you closed your legs around his waist.
“I’m only giving you half, baby,” he chuckled, snapping his hips into yours and pushing in all the way in one punishing stroke. Your eyes fell open and you held onto him for dear life, as he knocked the breath out of your lungs.
“Can you still handle all of it?” he whispered in your ear, pulling out to the tip. You nodded forehead resting against his shoulder.
“Yes, Leon, yes.”
“Say my name like that again,” he ordered, pushing back in and you cried out, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.
“I love it when you say my name like that.” He drew in a sharp breath, looking between you, at where you were joined, obscene squelching sounds and skin slapping against skin filling the bedroom.
“Leon,” you moaned and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, squeezing his eyes shut to not spill into you right then and there. Your pussy clenched around him and he pulled out, his breathing ragged.
You mewled at the loss, but didn’t have time to grieve long, as Leon was moving down your body, throwing your legs over his shoulders and replacing his cock with his mouth, sucking your clit until you cried out, arching off the bed. He lapped up your juices like he was starving for it, starving for you, tongue playing with your clit, sucking it into his mouth, pushing his tongue into your pussy and groaning into you when he felt you ripple.
You wanted to say real words, you did. You wanted to praise him, tell him how good he was, how close you were to coming all over his pretty face, but all you could do was moan and writhe like the cockdrunk slut you were.
“Come for me, baby,” Leon groaned, adding two fingers and fucking you with both his hands and his mouth.
Your moans became high pitched and you shook your head in disbelief at the intensity with which you could feel your orgasm building.
“Leon, oh my god, oh my god.” You cried out, thighs clamping around Leon’s head, locking him in like a vice. Release crashed over you like a tidal wave, leaving nothing and no one in its wake.
“That’s it, baby, fuck yeah,” Leon moaned, licking you through every wave of your orgasm. You barely had regained your bearings, when Leon flipped you over, gravity making you sink down on his cock.
“Ride me,” he panted, “fuck yourself on my cock.”
And you did, taking him deep enough to hit your cervix at every stroke, tits bouncing in rhythm with your movements.
“I missed you, so fucking much,” you whimpered, reaching down to prop yourself up on Leon’s pecs, bouncing on his cock.
A smile spread across his lips, quickly wiped out by his entire face contorting in pleasure. You felt him twitch inside of you and you picked up your pace, Leon’s moans urging you on. You loved that he had never been quiet in bed. Leon was very vocal, always had been. You loved that he let you know exactly how good you made him feel, every desperate whimper falling from his lips a praise for how well you were doing.
Leon propped himself up against the headboard, slinging his arms around you, pulling you closer. “Grab the headboard,” he ordered, the words having a hard time slipping past his lips. He was so close.
You did as you were told, using the wooden headboard as leverage to fuck him harder, his hips meeting you at every thrust.
“Oh fuck.” His voice broke and his head fell forward, sucking one of your pierced nipples into his mouth. “Give me one more, baby, please, come with me.”
His hand found your clit again, coaxing pathetic little whimpers from you somewhere between overstimulation and pure bliss. Your velvet walls pulsed around him again and your pace faltered, but Leon grabbed a handful of your ass and forced you to keep going.
You let go of the headboard and grabbed his head, forcing him to look at you. Neither of you said a thing. You could see the climax in each other’s eyes and for a split second the whole world stopped moving. Before your hips snapped back together and tipped you over the edge.
Leon desperately pulled you into him, a string of the most obscene moans tearing from his lips. You pulsed around him as he shot his load into you—pulling out be damned—painting your inner walls with his seed like fucking Picasso.
“Oh god, Leon,” you panted as you came down, still feeling him twitch inside of you. “Oh fuck, ah.”
You swallowed, mouth dry. Leon leaned back against the headboard, pulling you with him, cradling your head to his chest, whole body moving in sync with his heavy breaths.
“Apology accepted,” you murmured, smacking your lips when you almost caught yourself drooling.
“What?”
“You said we’d do this once, for you to apologise. I accept.”
“This was so stupid. I’ll get Plan B in the morning.” You pushed yourself off his chest, gently climbing off him, biting your lip when he slipped out of you and pulled out a glob of cum with him.
“You think so?”
“Having unprotected sex with my ex who’s also sleeping with other people? Yeah, kinda.” You shrugged, snuggling into the pillows.
“I’m not sleeping with other people,” Leon said, laying down beside you.
You had to tell Michelle about this. Leon was not sleeping with other people. But you kept your cool. “Oh. I just assumed, you know.”
“Are you sleeping with other people?” The panic he tried to pass off as non-chalance wasn’t lost on you.
“I mean, we’re both allowed to sleep with other people. We’ve been broken up forever and it’s not like we owe each other anything.”
Leon rolled over on his back, staring at the ceiling. “Right. We’re co-parenting. Well, you’ve been parenting more than I have.”
“Yeah, but you cooperate well when asked,” you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips, remembering exactly how cooperative he had been only minutes ago.
“So, this is a one time thing, right?” he whispered.
“I guess … I—”
“Do you want me to leave?” he asked, voice thin. You shook your head and snuggled into his side, his arm snaking around you instinctively.
“No, believe it or not, we’re still co-parenting tomorrow and neither of us cleaned up after Lottie’s party tonight.”
"fuck, that’s it, sweetheart," leon says, his hands exploring your body as you struggle against the cuffs that prevented you from running away from his touches. leon had your legs spread wide, his large hands splaying across the inside of your shaky thighs to keep you from closing them. he had a small, buzzing vibrator kissed to your clit for about an hour now, pulling away right when he saw your poor cunt clench and your breathing start to quicken, leaving you whining and without release.
it was torture, to say the least. endless streams of tears were flowing down your hot cheeks, your eyebrows were pulled together in sheer frustration, and your lips were more than a little swollen from how badly you wanted to finish. but, for some reason, leon wouldn't let you. part of you wanted to beg and plead for him to just let you cum, and the other half of you just wanted to curse him out for making you suffer like this.
"god, you’re so fuckin’ wet, bet i could slide right in, huh?" leon comments, pressing the vibrator into your clit harder. his eyes flick up to your glossy ones when you let out a strangled moan, head falling back against the headboard where your hands are cuffed. his head dips down to pepper little kisses on your inner thigh, hand moving the vibrator in circles on your puffy clit which practically had its own heartbeat now.
"ohhh— fuck, leon— please i can’t, wanna cum so bad…" you plead, head tilting back down to meet his gaze. you’re so frustrated, so sensitive, and so on edge from the multiple ruined orgasms he’d made you endure, and you’d do just about anything to cum right now. leon’s hands still for a moment, the vibrator buzzing away in the quiet, intimate setting of your shared bedroom as he takes a moment to scan your figure.
he almost feels bad for you. almost. you'd been moaning helplessly, letting out such pretty noises that never failed to make his chest swell with pride. you were fucking drenched, proof of your arousal staining the sheets below you where leon had brought you up to your peak only to pull away at the last second, leaving you whining and clenching at the loss of stimulation. to say you were a little bit frustrated would be an understatement.
leon hums, gazing down once more at your sloppy cunt before prodding a finger at your hole experimentally. "yeah? you wanna cum, baby?" he questions mockingly, running his finger up and down your wet slit while staring at you expectantly. your cunt clenches obscenely, a poor attempt to pull his thick finger inside you. you were starting to get fed up with his teasing, and since you were restrained, there was quite literally nothing you could do about it.
you groan, disgruntled, a little louder than you liked as your patience began wearing thin from his endless teasing. you huff out a breath in frustration, rolling your eyes exasperatedly as you bite back, "can you fucking do anything?," you snap, pulling against the cuffs in a futile attempt to break free. you grumble, eyes flitting down to his to narrow them at him, annoyed. suddenly, the buzzing from the vibrator stops, and you immediately let out a pained whine at the absence in stimulation.
leon’s expression shifts instantly, eyes piercing and jaw tight as he narrows his eyes at you meticulously. his intense eyes are practically screaming, "you’ve lost your goddamn mind," and maybe you have, considering how long he’s had you like this.
"can i fucking do anything?" he repeats slowly, voice serious and low as his fingernails dig into the soft plush of your thigh. you wince slightly, hands instinctively pulling at the restraints at the painful feeling. he lets out a low chuckle, eyes never leaving yours as he shifts further up the bed, slowly inching closer to you.
"you better watch your fuckin’ mouth," he threatens, hand coming down to slap at your thigh harshly, pulling a sharp gasp from you. the skin where he slapped you stings deliciously, warming your entire body as your cunt clenches desperately around nothing. he's now leaned over you, hands fisted near your thighs as he invades your personal space, lips practically brushing against yours.
something in you burns like a wildfire with the way he's talking to you, and you're almost ashamed at how much you like it. you can't stop the words from leaving your lips as you stare into his eyes menacingly, "then you better fucking make me, leon," you challenge, gaze never faltering as you stare at him like you've got all the power in the world at your fingertips.
leon's brows raise amusedly, letting out a scoff in disbelief at your bold choice of words. he hums, hand moving up your form, fingertips ghosting over your thighs, hips, and finally resting at your waist before asking, "make you?" he repeats, hand reaching further upwards to curl his thick fingers around your throat slowly. your pulse hammers underneath his hand, gulping slightly as you watch how his demeanor shifts. "you’ve got a fucking death wish, don’t you?" he spits, squeezing his hand tighter around the circumference of your neck. you gasp slightly, the pressure of his fingers almost enough to have you a little hazy from the lack of air in your lungs.
"like you can handle what i’ll do to you," he starts, scoffing when he sees you gasping for air from his tight grip. he releases his hand slowly, and instead settles to grip your jaw with equal strength, forcing you to look into his dangerously dark eyes. "like you can take every inch without fucking crying," he mocks, tone clipped and sharp as he leans in impossibly closer, lips brushing against your own. his breath fans against your lips, the closeness making you shiver slightly from how intense the air feels. his gaze drops down to your lips, thumb brushing over it for a brief moment, almost gentle, before his hand leaves your jaw.
he gives your cheek a small, sharp smack, just enough to sting and make your skin blossom with warmth. you don't even register it at first, the action so unexpected that it takes a moment for you to even realize it happened. your eyes widen a little bit, mouth slightly ajar as you stare at him, shocked. his grip on your jaw forces you to look at him, and you don't dare to look away now. you almost feel ashamed at the way your needy cunt clenches at him slapping you, the action rooted in lust and dominance as your skin tingles from where he'd struck you.
"you're gonna take what i fuckin’ give you," and with that, he released your jaw only to slide his hand back down the length of your body, leaning back to get a better view of your trembling body that was like putty underneath his touch. his fingertips ghost over your chest for a brief moment, pausing to capture one hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger. he pinched it firmly, rolling the sensitive nub until a sharp whimper escaped your swollen lips. he hums in satisfaction, continuing his descent. he glides his fingers across your abdomen teasingly, finally stopping at the apex of your spread thighs.
his palm cupped your soaked, puffy cunt completely, letting the scorching heat of your arousal envelop his skin. the heel of his palm presses firmly against your swollen clit, while two thick fingers tease along your dripping slit, spreading your slick obscenely. you whine pathetically, hips bucking upward in a desperate attempt to gain more friction. leon's other hand instantly moves to your lower abdomen, holding you in place to stop you from chasing any form of pleasure without his guidance.
"don't," he warned, voice dark and commanding. "move one more fuckin' time and i promise you won't cum tonight. not once. got it?" he threatens, eyes serious and warning as they pierce into your glossy ones, voiced laced with authority that sent sparks of arousal straight to your tummy. leon waits expectantly for you to acknowledge him, and you offer him a weak nod. his hand smacks your cunt quickly, forcing a choked moan from you as you pull at the cuffs. "use your words," he clarifies, fingers rubbing against your folds as a sort of quiet consolation.
"yes— yes, i got it, 'm sorry— please," you whine, eyes teary as you stare into his serious ones, biting down on your lower lip to quiet yourself. he nods, humming in approval when you finally use your words, but it’s a low, almost mocking sound. his palm digs into your clit as he continues to palm your leaking cunt, the rough pads of his fingertips dragging up and down your fluttering hole teasingly.
"'m sorry," he mocks, tone condescending and voiced pitched up a few registers as he tilts his head, studying you. "now you're sorry? after acting like a fucking ungrateful brat?" his middle and ring fingers continue to tease your sopping hole, quite literally grazing the surface, never giving you the satisfaction of dipping fully inside.
no matter how furious you were with him for tormenting you for so long, you couldn't deny the way your insides twisted at the way he spoke to you. it was like you'd unlocked a new side of him, a stark contrast to his usually soft, yet guiding demeanor that never failed to make you fall apart. this leon was different. he was colder, meaner, a lot less tolerant. he stared down at you like you were something he owned and was growing increasingly impatient with. the usual softness in his eyes he got when he was guiding you through pleasure was completely gone. the thought thrilled and alarmed you.
"apologize," he starts, dipping his middle finger past your slit and sliding effortlessly into your soaked cunt. he doesn't move them yet, only lets you feel the thickness of the digit inside you. "tell me you're sorry for running that pretty little mouth, baby," he commands, and you whine when his finger curls inside you, clenching desperately around the singular digit.
"god, leon, 'm sorry, so fuckin' sorry, i'll take it, do whatever you want, just... please," you beg, tears threatening to spill from your eyes, voice cracking at the end of your slew of pleas.
leon’s eyes darken with satisfaction as he finally hears those desperate words spill from your lips. his finger curls slowly inside you again, pressing firmly against that sweet spot, rewarding your apology with just a taste of pleasure. "is that right?" he questions, voice low and rough with approval. "you really sorry? huh? gonna be my good girl and take what i give you?" he asks, pressing a second finger to your clenching hole while gazing up at you intently, monitoring your every response.
"yes, 'm ready, ready to be your good girl, please, leon, 'm so sorry-" you plead, almost embarrassingly, cunt fluttering around his finger that was pressed inside you.
leon’s eyes flash with dark satisfaction at your broken pleas, the way your voice cracks so prettily for him. he pushes the second finger in deep alongside the first, stretching your soaked cunt open as he curls both of them firmly against your g-spot.
"there she is," he praises, setting a steady pace with his fingers while curling the digits up with every push inside your wet cunt. "my fuckin' girl. no more of that attitude." he keeps fucking you with his fingers for a few more moments, enjoying the way your walls flutter and squeeze around him, your slick dripping down his hand. then his gaze shifts, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips.
"since you want to cum so badly..." he starts, reaching out next to your form to retrieve the bullet vibrator that had previously been abandoned. he clicks it on to the highest setting without hesitation, the loud buzzing filling the room instantly. your eyes widen and your breath catches as he brings the toy down between your spread thighs. "then you're gonna cum as many times as i fuckin’ want." he finishes, voice low and dangerous.
without another word, he presses the violently buzzing vibrator hard against your swollen clit. his fingers begin thrusting faster, curling brutally against your g-spot with every stroke. the sudden overwhelming assault rips a loud, broken moan from your throat as your entire body jerks violently against the cuffs. you were more sensitive than ever from the constant edging, and it's almost too much feeling his fingers pumping inside you alongside the vibrator pressed harshly against your throbbing clit.
"leon, oh, fuck— leon—!” you sob, thighs trembling uncontrollably. you could feel that familiar ball of heat curling in your tummy, signaling your orgasm which was rapidly approaching. you almost couldn't believe how close you were already.
"that's right," he grunts, grinding the toy in tight, merciless circles while his thick fingers pump relentlessly into your dripping cunt. "let it all out. c'mon, sweetheart. cum for me," he coerces, circling the vibrator on your wet clit while fucking his fingers inside you faster. at this rate, your thighs are shaking, wrists aching from pulling on the cuffs that bind you, and your throat was beginning to get sore from the loud cries you'd been letting out.
a broken, sobbing cry rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you. your walls clamp down hard around his thrusting fingers, pulsing and fluttering as you cum with shocking intensity. slick gushes out around his hand, soaking his wrist and the sheets beneath you while your entire body jerks and thrashes against the cuffs. leon watches every second of it with dark, hungry eyes. your cunt spasms hard around his thrusting fingers, gushing slick all over his hand and wrist as you cum harder than you have in a long time.
"fuck... there it is," he growls, voice low and satisfied. he monitors your expression intently— your eyes were shut tight, eyebrows deeply knitted together, and your lips were parted slightly as the prettiest of moans leave your mouth. he doesn’t give you any mercy. his fingers keep thrusting through your orgasm, dragging out every pulse and flutter of your cunt while the vibrator stays pressed hard against your clit, buzzing violently. he grinds it in tight, calculated circles, forcing the pleasure higher even as your body thrashes.
you whine loudly, attempting to pull your hips back from the overwhelming stimulation, but leon only yanks you back towards him. hot tears are streaming down your face, your heart beating fast in your chest as you drop your head in defeat, sobbing from the immense pleasure that was quickly turning into pain.
"oh no, baby. this is what you wanted," leon growls, yanking your hips back down onto his fingers with a firm, bruising grip. his voice is low, dark, and dripping with mockery. "you begged me to make you cum. now you’re gonna fuckin’ take it," he leans over you, fingers leaving your cunt while keeping the vibrator pressed to your sensitive bud. his hand grabs your jaw and forces your head up so you have to look at him through your blurry, tear-filled eyes.
"head up," he snaps. "you don’t get to hide that pretty face while i ruin you," leon finishes, his grip on your jaw tight enough to bruise as he forces you to keep looking at him. his blue eyes are dark, intense, and completely unforgiving as he stares down at your tear-streaked, broken face. the vibrator continues its violent buzzing against your swollen clit, and leon can't help but lean in to kiss you.
he captures your lips slowly, almost tenderly, though his grip on your jaw stays firm and possessive. his mouth moves against yours with surprising gentleness, like he’s savoring the broken little sounds you make. his thumb gently strokes your cheek even as tears continue to slip down your skin. you kiss him back desperately, hands pulling uselessly at the cuffs, the metal biting into your wrists as your body trembles beneath him.
leon hums softly into the kiss, the sound low and warm against your lips. he grinds the toy harder against your clit in slow, punishing circles, refusing to give you even a second of relief. your body jerks and thrashes, but he keeps you pinned in place with his weight and his bruising hold on your jaw. he pulls back from the kiss to look at you, and his eyes soften slightly when he takes in your broken expression, eyelids fluttering and lips bitten as you close your eyes to ground yourself.
"look at me," leon says firmly, though his voice carries unexpected gentleness. his thumb strokes your cheek again, almost lovingly. "eyes on me, sweetheart. don't close them," he squeezes your jaw a little tighter, tilting your face up until your teary eyes meet his once more. the vibrator never stops its brutal, buzzing assault on your swollen clit, and you choke out a whine that signals how close you are.
leon leans in and presses a surprisingly soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, then to your tear-stained cheek, his breath warm against your skin. "i know, baby," he whispers tenderly, almost soothing. "i know it's too much. but you're gonna take it anyway," the vibrator grinds hard against your swollen clit in slow, devastating circles that have you reeling, breath hitching and legs shaking under his control.
"keep those pretty eyes on me," leon murmurs, his voice low and intimate against your lips. his thumb continues its gentle, soothing strokes across your cheek even as he forces the vibrator harder against your throbbing clit. you’re shaking uncontrollably now, legs trembling violently, breath coming out in short, desperate hiccups. the overstimulation has turned everything into a dizzying mix of pleasure and pain, but leon refuses to let you escape even an ounce of it.
"c'mon, sweetheart. be my good girl," he coos, the tenderness in his voice and touch only making the overwhelming pleasure sharper. your body tenses hard, thighs shaking violently as the orgasm builds to an almost unbearable peak.
"ohh, fuck, leon— 'm cumming, please—" your thighs shake violently as the orgasm crests, slamming into you with overwhelming force. a broken, high-pitched cry tears from your throat as you cum hard again. your walls flutter violently, spasming while the vibrator grinds mercilessly into your throbbing clit. your entire body seizes up, back arching sharply off the bed as fresh tears spill down your cheeks.
"that’s it… fuck, look at you," he whispers tenderly, circling the vibrator against your clit to drag out your orgasm for as long as possible. you sob and shake beneath him, completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure as your cunt pulses and gushes under his relentless control. leon’s eyes never leave your face, drinking in every twitch, every tear, every broken expression with satisfaction. his thumb keeps stroking your cheek with gently while his other hand keeps the vibrator pressed firmly against your throbbing, oversensitive clit.
"such a good fucking girl," he praises softly, voice low and warm against your ear. "cumming so hard for me… that’s my fuckin' girl." he whispers, pressing soft kisses down your neck as you ride out the intense orgasm he'd given you.
when the peak finally begins to fade and your sobs turn into shaky, exhausted whimpers, leon eases the pressure of the vibrator, slowly pulling it away from your swollen clit. switching the buzzing device off, he sets it aside while kissing the tears from your cheeks, then your trembling lips once more. the silence in the room is almost startling, save for your shaky, exhausted whimpers.
"shh, baby," he murmurs lovingly against your mouth, voice soft as he stares into your glossy eyes. you're wrecked, practically limp against the bed. his hands reach up to undo the cuffs, setting the grating metal aside and bringing your wrists to his lips to kiss them tenderly. "did so good for me," leon whispers, pressing another soft kiss to the inside of each wrist. "took everything so fuckin' well." he wraps his arms around you, pulling your limp body against his chest and cradling you close.
but even as your body trembles with exhaustion, heat is already pooling low in your stomach again. the tenderness in his voice, the way he’s holding you so carefully only makes you want him more. you shift weakly in his arms, mustering up all your strength to straddle his hips on the bed.
"gonna take what i want, now," you whisper lowly, eyes locked on to his as you feel on his biceps. the feeling of his thick muscles under your hands is liberating, finally getting to touch him after so long. leon’s eyebrows raise slightly at your bold words, a slow, dangerous smirk spreading across his face as his hands move down to grip your hips possessively.
"oh?" he murmurs, voice low and rough with amusement. his blue eyes stay locked on yours, half-lidded and dark with lust. "go on then, sweetheart," he challenges, voice dropping into a low growl. "take what you want." he coerces, and your breath hitches at his agreeable tone. you bite your lip excitedly, cunt pressing into his clothed cock as you feel how hard he his. he grunts lowly, fingernails digging into your hips harder to ground himself.
he shifts up, lips hovering near your ear as he whispers, "just remember," he starts, pressing a short kiss to your temple, "just ‘cause you're on top doesn't mean you're in control, sweetheart," he says, and any exhaustion that took over your body had immediately dissipated, now replaced with insatiable adrenaline that made you shake ever so slightly. he pulls back, eyes staring at you expectantly as he leans back against the headboard. you shudder, eyes blown out with lust as you hover over him, heart hammering wildly in your chest.
"well?" he asks, tilting his head in amusement as he eyes your form above him. "better get to it before i change my mind, sweetheart."
nier’s note 🗒️: hello hello everyone i'm back with a longer drabble/fic!! I LOVE MEAN LEON OMG it's just so fucking scrumptious. but he def has a soft spot so i wanted to make it kinda more soft dom leon at the end, LOL this took me wayyy too fucking long to write now that summer has started ive been so offline hello??? but im gonna make an effort to be more active! love u all x mwa
leon wished he never even agreed to be your roommate. he'd looked through dozens of roommate listings, sifting through labels and filters before finally settling on yours— one that specified that you were very clean, quiet, never really had anyone over. you sounded exactly like what he wanted in a roommate— in addition to the lower price tag of splitting the rent payments. but, the moment he moved in the apartment, he knew you were going to be a problem.
you were fucking hot. he thought enrolling in the police academy was going to be risky, but you were damn-near dangerous. you wore whatever you wanted, which mostly consisted of tiny baby tees, shorts, and oversized sweatshirts that rode up your ass whenever you reached for something in the cabinet.
he will admit, he's a little bit perverted and takes any chances he can to sneak a glance at your ass whenever you're not looking. he has to adjust himself whenever he sees you in those pretty little shorts that leave nothing to the imagination, with everything on display for him to see.
you'd been cleaning for about twenty minutes now, and he'd been shamelessly staring, whatever dumb tv show was playing now falling on deaf ears as he ogled you. the second you bent over to grab a piece of trash on the ground, he thought about just throwing caution to the wind and saying fuck it. he could clearly see the outline of your pussy through the useless fabric of your shorts that did absolutely nothing to keep you modest. "shit..." he whispered to himself, eyes glued to the curve of your ass while his dick throbs painfully in his pants.
he panics a bit when turn to him with a little pout on your face. "what's wrong, leon?" you asked, a concerned look on your face. leon had to pull himself together when you leaned towards him, and as if your ass wasn't enough to make his breath hitch, the view of your tits pressed against the tight fabric of your tank has him nearly gasping for air. he almost thought you were doing it on purpose.
he stutters a little bit, eyes shamefully glued to your chest as he struggles to get out a coherent sentence out. "uh, nothing... just, a little bit... hot." he fibbed, swallowing hard once you begin to make your way over to him. you press a hand to his forehead to check his temperature, leaning over him slightly as you survey him. "i don't think you have a fever... hm, lemme check the thermostat," you say, bringing your hand down from his forehead to study him. you notice his gaze is fixed a little lower, eyes dazed and mouth parted slightly. you track where he's looking, and sure enough, they're fixated on your tits spilling out of your tank from cleaning.
he's got to force himself to look away, but when he meets your gaze he wishes he didn't, hands twitching in his lap as he gulps thickly. you had an amused expression on your face, head tilted to the side a bit as you stare at him. shit, he thinks, she caught me staring, and he shakes his head a bit, trying to push the dirty thoughts from his mind.
"leon," you breathe, biting your lip a bit as you bat your lashes. "can you help me with something, actually?" you ask, tone playful and mischievous as you revel in the way he gulps. "this bra's making me a little uncomfy," you say, motioning to your shirt as you stare at him. his eyes widen a bit, pupils expanding as he thinks about you without a bra on. "think you can take it off for me?" he's frustratingly hard at this point, the tip of his dick sticky with precum in his boxers as he tries to snap out of it.
"um, yeah.. sure," he replies, hands twitching in his lap before reaching towards you. your eyes track his every movement, sighing softly once his hands find their way under your shirt and up your back. his eyes are fixed on yours, a careful expression on his face as he unclips your bra. it opens with a soft snap, the cups now loose on your breasts as he pulls his hands away.
he's fighting hard for restraint, breathing a little harder once you slide the straps down your arms and reach under to pull the fabric off in one smooth motion. your eyes never leave his when you place the fabric on the coffee table behind you, a glint of lust in your eyes as you scan his form. he's so obviously hard now, you almost feel bad for teasing him like this. poor leon, you think.
leon's breath hitches a little bit, his eyes long since left yours to settle back on your perky chest. you look down at your bust, examining the reason why he was so flustered. your nipples were now hard, pressing against the rough fabric of your tank now that he'd rid you of your bra. you smile to yourself, eyes settling back on him as you watched him shift slightly on the couch.
"do you want to touch them?" you ask boldly, and the question is jarring in the near-silent living room. leon's eyes snap back up to yours, a shocked expression gracing his pretty features as he processes your question. you offer him a small smile, biting your lip a bit to stop it from spreading wider at how cute he was.
he's silent, face flushed and hands curled in fists on the sides of his thighs as his gaze shifts down to the floor in front of him. you giggle softly, stepping a little closer before whispering, "don't be shy, leon," you say sweetly, staring down at his frozen form on the couch. he looks back up to you, expression a little desperate as he watches you. you hum, pursing your lips as you coo at him. "here, i've got it." you say, moving your hands down to close around his wrists.
leon stutters a little bit, hands hesitating slightly before letting you guide him anyways. "shh," you shush softly, bringing his hands up slowly. "don't worry about it, leon." you reassure him, and he finally relaxes his hands. once your movements come to a stop, his hands are hovering over your covered breasts, and you give him a little smile before pressing his hands against your chest.
leon’s hands tremble slightly against your chest, but once they make full contact, he can’t hold back the low, whine-like noise that escapes him. his hands move on their own as he gropes your tits softly. "shit, they're so fucking soft..." his thumbs brush over the stiff peaks of your nipples through the thin tank top, circling them slowly, testing how they feel under the fabric. his eyes drift up to yours to see you biting your lip, and he thinks he could cum right here from the sight. your eyes are slightly hooded as they look down at him, breathing a little faster, hands loosening on his as you allow him to touch you freely.
leon’s hands continue to knead and explore your breasts with growing confidence, his palms pressing and squeezing the soft flesh as his thumbs keep teasing your hardened nipples in slow, deliberate circles. his breathing is ragged, cheeks flushed deep red as he stares at the way your tits fill his hands.
he lets out another shaky breath, biting his lip hard before his voice comes out hoarse and needy. "shit... they feel so good like this, but— can i... can i touch them without the top?" his eyes flick up to yours, nervous but burning with want. his hands pause on your chest, waiting for your permission even as his fingers twitch with barely-contained eagerness, clearly dying to slide under the thin fabric and feel your bare tits in his palms.
leon’s breath catches in his throat at your soft, amused expression. his hands stay pressed to your chest, fingers gently squeezing as he waits for your answer, his cock aching so badly it hurts. the thin tank top feels so teasing, so cruel. he's so close, hands literally grazing the surface, but he's greedy. he wants more. he can feel the heat of your skin and the stiff peaks of your nipples, but he can't help but imagine how pretty your bare tits are, or how your nipples would feel trapped between his fingertips.
you give him a little nod and a low, "go ahead," and his eyes immediately light up with pure desperation and gratitude.
"thank you…" he breathes, voice shaky and low. his hands slide down to the hem of your tank top. he tugs it up slowly, almost reverently, exposing your bare tits inch by inch. the fabric drags over your sensitive nipples, making them bounce softly once freed, and leon lets out a broken, needy sound at the sight.
"holy shit…" he whispers, eyes wide and completely transfixed. his hands immediately return to your bare skin, this time with nothing in between. his palms are warm and slightly trembling as he cups your tits fully, feeling their weight and softness. "they’re… so pretty. so soft…" he confesses, and you bite back a moan at how amazed he seems from just seeing your boobs. but it's adorable, the way his eyes are so wide and curious while his hands experiment on your body.
he groans quietly, thumbs brushing over your bare nipples in slow, experimental circles before gently pinching and rolling them between his fingers. you let out a surprised moan, hands closing around his wrists when he tugs at them a little more firmly. his eyes flick back up to yours, pride swelling in his chest as he realizes he made you make that sound. he can feel his cock twitching desperately in his pants, the front of his boxers already slick with precum. his breathing is ragged, chest rising and falling fast as he stares down at his own hands groping you. he gives them a soft, experimental squeeze, then another, clearly losing himself in the feeling.
his hands knead your bare tits with more confidence now, squeezing the soft, warm flesh while his thumbs keep teasing your stiff peaks. he leans in closer on the couch, face inches from your chest, hot breath fanning over your skin as he stares like he’s hypnotized. almost like he’s scared you’ll pull away, leon drags his tongue over one nipple in a slow, wet stripe. you mewl from his boldness, hand moving to thread into his hair before finally moving to settle into his lap.
you shift yourself on leon’s lap, straddling his thighs as your knees sink into the couch on either side of him. the heat of his body radiates through his sweatpants, and you can feel just how painfully hard he is, his cock twitching every time you shift even slightly. leon practically whimpers, the sound traveling straight through your nipple he was fervently sucking on. you look down at him, his soft blue eyes closed and eyebrows pulled together while his tongue swirls over your nipple, and you can't help but ground yourself into him.
"oh... shit— yes," he moans softly, pulling off your tit with a wet pop, lips shiny and swollen. his hands slide down to grip your waist, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks as he instinctively bucks up to meet your movements. he leans back on the couch, eyebrows pulled together in pleasure as he lets out a string of beautiful moans.
you lean forward slightly, hands coming up to his shoulders for purchase. "you're so sexy, leon," you moan, and leon's eyes blink open, a look of desperation on his face as he watches you drag your hips over his clothed cock over and over. his hands squeeze at your hips, cock pressing against your clit just right as you you grind harder against him. leon’s head falls back against the couch for a second, a small whimper escaping as you press down more firmly, rocking your hips in a steady rhythm.
the thick ridge of his cock drags perfectly along your clothed pussy with every roll, the friction making pleasure spark sharp and hot through both of you. he stares up at you with hazy, half-lidded blue eyes, mouth open, panting. "holy fuck, it feels so good… keep going... please," he begs, hand reaching up to grab at your breast again. the fabric between you two is already damp, a dark grey spot forming on his pants and steadily growing the more you rub yourself against him.
you roll your hips faster, grinding your soaked core right along the thick, hard length of his cock. each drag pulls a broken little sound from leon’s throat, broken little whimpers that make your clit pulse and your stomach tighten with heat.
"i'm... fuck, i'm gonna cum," he confesses, cheeks burning red, but he doesn’t stop helping you grind on him. if anything, his grip on your hip tightens, pulling you down even harder. his breathing is rapid, eyebrows pulled together and eyes squeezed shut as he bucks his hips into you with every pull against his cock. the prettiest moans and whines escape him, the sounds heavenly as you stare at his blissed-out face. leon’s hips stutter violently beneath you, his hips bucking up desperately as he pulls you down harder against his throbbing cock.
"fuck— fuck... i can't—" he chokes out, voice cracking into a desperate, broken moan. his head falls back against the couch, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. his hand grips your hip tighter, almost bruising, but you don't let up. you're determined to watch him fall apart.
you lean in a little closer, lips brushing against the shell of his ear as you rock against him a little harder, "you can, leon. i want you to cum just for me," you breathe, pressing a kiss to the side of his face. his moans grow louder, cock twitching violently against your clothed cunt, hips jerking up harder against you. "that's it," you whisper, kissing along his jaw as he practically uses you to get off. not that you mind it, he looked way too beautiful for you to complain.
"shit— hah, fuck, im cumming— " his head presses firmly against the couch, mouth falling open in pleasure before loud, shameless strings of moans rip out of him. his cock pulses violently between your bodies, thick ropes of cum spilling into his boxers in heavy spurts. you can feel every twitch and throb through the thin layers separating you, his hips stuttering and grinding up against your clit even as he falls apart. his fingers dig bruisingly into your waist, holding you down against him while he rides out the orgasm, whimpering and panting with each little twitch of his hips. he keeps grinding up into you through it, chasing every wave of pleasure while whimpering and gasping from how good it feels.
once his eyes finally open again to settle on you, he seems almost embarrassed. "shit…" he breathes, voice cracking. "i… i didn’t mean to—i'm sorry, fuck, i came so fast…"
you smile down at him warmly, shaking your head at his apology. "don't apologize. that was so fucking hot." you confess breathily, hand rubbing small, soothing circles into his shoulder. leon’s chest is still rising and falling fast, his face flushed all the way to his ears. he looks up at you with those dazed blue eyes, a mix of embarrassment and desire stirring within them.
he eyes your frame, cock twitching slightly as he stares at the wet spot on your shorts. his hands itch to touch it, to touch you, to make you feel as good as you made him feel. "i... wanna make you feel good too. i... please, wanna make it up to you," he begs, and he almost looks pained with how badly he wants it.
your lips part, a shaky breath leaving your mouth as you listen to him. he was too fucking sweet for his own good. "yeah, you can make it up to me," you say, hand coming up to brush his messy hair out of his eyes. "but this time we're doing this for real."
Hiiiiii!!!!! How are you??? I was wondering if you could write a gunplay smut fanfic. You could write anything with that prompt but lowk what i had in mind was leon is away on a mission. reader sends leon a risque/suggestive photo of herself but in the photo she forgets to crop out the gun in the photo. he sees it and hes like "wtf is she doing with that" anyways when he gets back from the mission he lowkey fucks reader with it. like i said tho u dont have to do that little story or anything it was just an idea the gunplay is lowk the most important part 🤑
𓏴ㅤ𓈒 Silver Ghost ◞
featured : re9 leon kennedy, fem reader
tags/content : smut, gunplay, soft dom leon bcz i love him that way, girlfriend/boyfriend, "mdni"
a/n : he made a statement so magical even his friends agreed friendship is magic, also first fic !! ty for requesting lols
w/c : 1.1k words
his phone reads 11:43 PM— his personal phone. this mission is over. if he were able to, the second he stepped foot off the infected grounds, he'd throw his work cell on the floor and grind it into the gravel beneath him.
as much as he loved his job, it took time away from him. from you.
leon sits on his bike, pumping gas. it's chilly out, enough to make him shiver if not for the jacket you bought him. he bites the bottom of his lip, thoroughly checking his notifications. several messages from people he couldn't be bothered by, a few emails that he'd read later— then a photo.
"i can't wait until you're back to satisfy me."
followed by a picture you took of yourself, only moments before he pulled into the gas station. his eyes scanned the screen of his phone, boring into this photo of yourself with your legs spread in front of your long mirror, your lips curled into a needy pout that you knew he'd devour if he were there.
something else caught his eye, though— a metallic object in motion— it looked as though you were sliding it down the front of your body. his silver ghost, he called it. the pistol he used on his mission in spain, the one he kissed and stroked while cleaning with enough care that you couldn't help but seethe. it should have been you, that he cooed to and called, "my girl."
a dark, lustful urge rose within him. if you wanted to use her as a prop, you could have asked— but better yet, if you were using her for pleasure, to look sexy for him— he'd happily oblige. without second thought, he left his bike only half full of gas, and swiped his card at the pump with so much urgency to make him almost drop it before driving off, straight to you.
you sat at home, still dressed in that lingerie he liked in hopes that he'd come back— or at the very least stop by. part of you felt guilty that you'd use what he clearly marked as his just to tick him off, to give him a reason to come back and pound you silly.
leon opened the door quietly, creeping inside your house. the only thing that marked his presence was the creaking of the floorboard in your doorway. his face was flushed an unusual red, and it was unclear whether he was angry or pent up. either way, you tucked your head into your shoulder as he inched closer to your bed.
"you touched her?" he asked, kicking off his boots and shrugging off his coat.
"yes, and?" you said, pushing the pistol towards him before he picked it up to inspect it.
"did you use her?"
you look up at him confused, and slightly red as you watched the gun go up to his nose and mouth. it was unclear whether he was smelling or kissing the barrel, but either one made you seethe with jealousy.
he stared down at you in that black lingerie you knew he loved, the redness on his ears growing a darker crimson as he looked you over. his lip purses, and he checks that the gun is empty before tossing the mag into the corner of the room.
your eyes look to see where the mag had gone, but leon's large torso blocks your sight as he leans down, both arms next to your sides before planting wet, sloppy kisses on your jaw and neck.
"if you wanted me—" he breathed, "to use her on you, you could have just asked."
the thought hadn't come to your mind at first. after all, you only intended to use his "silver ghost" as a sexy prop, a way to make him mad with lust and jealousy— but as he ran the cold metal of the barrel down your stomach with his hand, you couldn't resist the enticement of it.
you bit your lip, a small shiver running up your spine at the chill of the barrel. he smelled like a mix of copper and cedar wood, faint but delicious enough for you to lean into the crook of his neck just to get more.
"yes," you murmured, allowing him to back away from you to smother her with lube. leon turned back, laying you down on your bed whilst showering you with opened-mouth kisses and sucks on your shoulders and chest. his free hand went to undo your top before sliding your underwear down your legs.
"you think you're so sly, using her to get me jealous, huh?" he whispered into your ear, beginning to use his fingers on you, circling your clit. "i don't think you know how long i've been waiting for you to pick her up, to use her when you miss me."
you whine into his mouth, his lips not allowing you to answer as they leave you breathless, his teeth anchoring onto your lower lip. his fingers move faster, causing you to hold onto his free arm, holding your side.
"you're so sexy with her in your hands," leon huffed, backing away to observe the sweat that's accumulated on your body. he bites his lip, slowly running the tip of the barrel down your stomach. you let out a half gasp-half moan as it replaced his fingers. the coldness of the metal caused you to whimper, your hips bucking up to catch more contact.
"just like that," he murmured, now playing with the stiff peak of your nipple. "you two get along so well." slowly, he slips the barrel in, inch by inch as you whine at the freezing metal inside you.
it's a sensation unlike any other— not like when he'd come home from work in the middle of winter, using his cold hands on you. no— it was a thousand times better. the metal never warmed as fast as his hands, and the lewd squelching of your cunt taking his pistol only made you wetter.
"i won't touch her again," you moaned, reaching your hand down your lower stomach, feeling a warmth spread through you before leon swatted your hand away.
"no," he groaned, intently watching your pretty pussy swallow the gun he loved— the two sexiest things he felt he owned. "i've been wanting to do this, to watch you take her."
his free hand moved to circle your clit, the other quickening the movements of his gun thrusting inside you. you gasped, your back arching as that warmth grew stronger, your hands gripping the sheets of your bed as your juices made a mess on it.
leon's mouth moved back to yours, muffling your moans while you came onto the barrel of his pistol. his thrusts let up, slowing down to ride through your orgasm before pulling it out of your soaked folds.
he moved his hand to stroke your cheek, lifting the barrel of the gun to your mouth for you to lap up. spit spilled out the corner of your mouth, his thumb wiping it clean.
the lens above you was focused, the red light blinking every few moments as it captured every second of what was happening on the bed below. leon, the man behind the camera, held a small camcorder in his right hand surprisingly steady despite the way his hips rolled slowly between your widely spread thighs. every thrust forward made your tits bounce beautifully, the sight drawing leon's attention away from the camera to stare down at the way they jiggled in sync with his hips. your moans filled the room alongside leon's low grunts that escaped every time his hips snapped forward, plunging his thick cock deeper inside your tight heat.
at first, leon wasn't all that keen when you suggested filming your own home video, as he wanted to savor you completely, without distraction— but as soon as he hit record, he felt his dick throb once he saw how beautiful you looked at his mercy. and god, were you a sight he absolutely wouldn't mind rubbing one out to— especially when he was away during a mission.
leon groaned low in his throat, the sound rough and hungry, pushing his hips into yours to bury himself as deep as possible. for a moment the camera dipped slightly as his focus shifted to your face. you were staring right where you were both connected, the sloppy, slick sounds of him battering your g-spot echoing alongside your breathy moans. he followed your gaze, watching himself disappear inside you and the way you clenched around him like you were trying to suck him back in whenever he dragged his hips back.
"fuck... look at that," he breathes, adjusting his grip on the camera to angle it downward, showing a close-up of his cock stretching you open, the creamy ring of your arousal coating the base of his shaft with every deep thrust. the camera captured every filthy detail— the way your folds clung to him, every slick sound of his cock sinking inside your heat, and the way your greedy cunt clenched and fluttered every time he dragged his hips back.
"so fucking pretty," he murmurs, pulling your hips against his rhythmically, rubbing soft circles into the skin as his eyes zero in on your two connected sexes.
he pushed back in hard, bottoming out with a wet smack that made your tits bounce, ripping a loud moan from your throat. he started fucking you in slower, heavier strokes, pulling out just enough for the camera to see everything before driving back in deep, grinding against your g-spot on every forward roll of his hips. the slow, yet sharp snap of his hips was undeniably intense, punching the air from your lungs whenever his throbbing tip kissed your cervix.
"eyes on the camera, baby," he commands, his hand sliding from your hip to cup your left tit, groping the soft flesh in his palm. he squeezed firmly, thumb brushing over your hardened nipple as he gave it a rough, appreciative knead. you moan softly, head falling back slightly when his thumb began to rub circles into the sensitive nub. your gaze finally shifted, glossy eyes focusing back on the lens above you as you moan out helplessly beneath him.
leon let out a deep sound of approval, hand leaving your breast only to grip your soft cheeks, squishing your face a little as he held your jaw, forcing your heated, fucked-out face toward the camcorder.
"that's it... look right at it," he murmured, lips curling up a bit as he kept you pinned in place for the camera. "you'll do anything for me, won't you, baby? yeah?" you mewl softly, biting your bottom lip as you nod desperately in his grasp. his thumb pressed against your lower lip, forcing it open and parting it slightly while he continued his slow, devastating thrusts, dragging his thick cock against your g-spot with every roll of his hips.
you whimpered pathetically, nodding as best you could in his firm grip. "yes, leon… love it s'much, please," he hums, thumb stroking your lower lip slowly before pushing it into your mouth.
"suck," he commands, and you eagerly take his finger into your mouth. you moan unashamedly around the digit, eyes fluttering slightly as your hand comes up to wrap around his wrist, holding him there as you sucked obediently. you hum, eyes closing as you fervently swirl your tongue around his thumb.
leon’s breath hitched, a deep, hungry groan rumbling in his chest at the sight. the way you so eagerly took everything for him, the way you clenched around him whenever he drove inside you impossibly deeper... he didn't think he'd be able to maintain this slow of a pace anymore.
"shit... fucking perfect," he rasped, voice strained and rough, his thrusts quickening impatiently as the camera began to shake ever so slightly. "you love it, baby? being my pretty little porn star? yeah?" he says, and when your pretty eyes flicker up to meet his, he knew he was done for. you were so eager, so needy, so fucking pliant for him, and it turned him on beyond belief. "god, you're just asking for it, huh?" leon groans, pulling out of you abruptly, earning a needy whine from you that vibrated around his thumb.
he moves quickly, pulling the digit from your mouth with a wet pop before setting up the camera on the nightstand next to your shared bed, adjusting the angle so he could see everything perfectly later. the red light kept blinking steadily from its new position, recording everything in full.
he turns back to you, eyes hungry and swirling with lust as he grips both of your thighs and roughly pushes them back toward your chest, folding you in half. the new position spreads you obscenely wide, letting him sink impossibly deeper. he positions himself back between your legs, dragging his tip over your folds and teasing your swollen clit before pushing back inside you in one full, forceful thrust. you gasp slightly, biting your lip at the fullness of his cock inside you again.
"fuck… yeah," leon grunts, gripping your thighs harder when he bottoms out. you whimper softly, eyebrows pulled together and cunt clenching desperately around his cock from how stuffed you feel. "feels good, huh?" he asks teasingly, absentmindedly rubbing little circles into your thighs before thrusting forward sharply. the motion draws a gurgled moan from you, back arching almost painfully at how deep he is.
the once slow, deliberate rolls of his hips quickly turned into desperate, hungry thrusts that slammed into you with purpose. the change in pace has him breathing heavier, jaw tight and eyebrows pulled together in pure bliss as he fucked his cock inside of you. you choke out a moan, hands flying up to his biceps as your gaze shifts to his piercing blue eyes. leon meets your gaze, eyes flitting down to your lips before smashing his mouth against yours in a filthy, desperate kiss.
the kiss is messy and heated as he swallows every moan you make, driving his hips into yours faster as his grip on your thigh tightens. he moans lowly, the sound muffled by his tongue that was intertwined with yours as he fucks you deeper, the slick drag of his cock stretching you open with every desperate snap of his hips. he doesn’t give you a chance to breathe, fucking you hard and deep, his hips snapping forward with brutal precision. each thrust punches the air from your lungs and forces your walls to flutter wildly around his thick cock. leon breaks the kiss with a wet sound, right hand leaving your thigh to grip your jaw to angle it towards the camera next to you, capturing every filthy detail.
"look at the camera, baby..." he says, turning his head with you, staring directly into the lens right beside you, his face flushed and pupils blown wide with arousal. "yeah, that's it... just like that," his voice was low and rough, dripping with filth as he kept your jaw locked in place, making sure the camera got a perfect view of your wrecked expression. your eyebrows pull together, your eyes watering ever so slightly as you stare into the camera next to you, hands gripping leon's biceps to anchor yourself amidst his sharp, unrelenting thrusts.
"look so pretty getting fuckin' wrecked, baby," he tightened his grip on your jaw, fingers pressing into your flushed cheeks as he forced you to keep staring straight into the blinking red light. his hips slammed forward with brutal force, driving every thick inch of his cock balls-deep into your soaked, fluttering cunt. leon’s thrusts grew faster and more punishing, the wet slap of skin against skin loud and obscene. he could feel the way you were gripping him, your walls fluttering more often as he pushed past the tightening of your gummy walls.
"leon— god, fuck— i'm gonna cum," you gasped desperately, voice breaking as he pistons his cock deeper inside you. your eyes roll back slightly, the pressure in your abdomen slowly building as your walls flutter around his cock violently, throat dry and sore as you let out a string of desperate moans.
"yeah?" leon murmured, his voice teasing as he as he kept your jaw firmly tilted toward the lens. "camera’s really got you this worked up, huh?" he hums, a grin tugging at his lips as he gazes down at your form writhing beneath him. he tilts your chin a little higher toward the lens, thumb gently stroking your heated cheek, all while he drove his cock deep and against that spot that made your loud moans turn into breathless whimpers.
you nod deperately, moans high-pitched and airy as you listen to the filth that leaves his mouth. the wet, obscene slap of skin on skin grew louder as he picked up speed, pounding into you with relentless force. your tits bounced wildly with every punishing snap of his hips, and your walls fluttered and clenched around him like you were trying to milk him dry.
"yeah, yes— love it s'much—" you gasped, voice shaky and high-pitched. he suddenly tightened his grip on your jaw and turned your face away from the camera, guiding your gaze back toward him, your wide, watery eyes meeting his intense ones. his pupils were blown wide with lust, a thin veil of sweat covering his forehead as he stared down at you.
"yeah? you gonna cum for me, right on camera?" his hips never stopped their brutal rhythm, pounding into you with deep, punishing strokes that made your soaked pussy squelch obscenely around his thick cock. you let out a tiny whine, your eyes glossy as you tighten up around him, his words like a firestarter to your already burning arousal.
leon’s intense eyes stayed locked on yours, dark and commanding, refusing to let you look away even for a second. his grip on your jaw was firm, almost bruising, keeping your flushed, tear-streaked face tilted perfectly toward him while the camera continued recording every filthy detail from the side.
"answer me." he grunts, voice firm and dripping with lust as he slammed into you harder, grinding his cock against that sensitive spot deep inside. "you gonna show me how much you like it? huh baby?" he drawls. you could barely form words, your mind hazy with overwhelming pleasure as his thick cock stretched and ruined your dripping cunt with every thrust.
"mhmm, yes, leon— i'm— fuck, i'm cumming—" you blabber out, and leon quickly slides his free hand between your bodies, thumb pressing against your swollen clit. he rubbed firm, rough circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves while never slowing the devastating rhythm of his cock. your thighs begin to shake around him, the added stimulation making your moans turn into high-pitched whimpers and whines that bordered on sobs.
"that's it, baby," leon groans, his own orgasm building the tighter your walls gripped him. he thumb presses harder against your pulsing clit, rubbing slow, yet hard circles into the bud. "show me how much you love this." he says, hips grinding into yours with every forward thrust. his hand drops from your cheeks to roam down your body, pushing your right thigh to your chest to push himself deeper all while thumbing merciless little circles into your sensitive clit.
your eyebrows pull together in sheer pleasure, mouth falling open as you come apart under his touch. your orgasm is intense, walls clamping down around him like a vice as you grip his biceps hard. your moans are high-pitched and whiny, almost breathless as leon coos down at you, his own orgasm quickly approaching.
"fuck, there you go," he hums, drinking in every expression you make as the pleasure consumes you. his thrusts become erratic, determined to reach his peak that was quickly approaching. his grip on your thigh tightens, pushing your leg a little higher as he fucks you through your intense orgasm.
your clit pulses violently under his thumb, the once tight, fast circles that he traced slowing down but still as firm as they were before. your thighs trembled from the intensity of your orgasm, breathing heavy and labored as the pleasure begins to flow into the beginnings of overstimulation. you whine when leon’s thumb brushes over your sensitive clit, moving the digit up and down lightly, causing your cunt to grip him impossibly tighter.
"taking it so well, baby," he coos, leaning down to nestle his face into the crook of your neck, thumb finally leaving your clit. his forearms settle next to your head, thrusts turning shallow and quick while he breathes heavily against your neck. leon groans at the way your walls grip him, jaw clenching tight as his cock begins to swell inside of you. he presses his body closer, chest flush against yours, hips snapping with quick, needy strokes. his voice drops even lower, dripping with lust right beside your ear. "fuck— fuck, baby," he moans, eyebrows threaded together in sheer pleasure as he fucks into you relentlessly.
his hips stutter against yours slightly, a loud, guttural moan falling from his lips as his orgasm peaks. he completely stills, pushing himself as far inside your puffy cunt as he can as his warm cum floods your fluttering walls. you whimper quietly at the feeling of his throbbing tip pressing against your cervix, hot ropes of cum filling you up as he grinds his hips into you slowly, fucking you through his orgasm. his moans begin to quiet, the sound of his heavy breathing amplified against your neck.
leon presses tiny, short kisses against your neck, exhaling in satisfaction as he finally catches his breath from the intensity of his orgasm. he lifts his head slightly, sliding his softening cock out of your cunt with a wet sound. a thick trickle of his release immediately leaked from your cunt, and you grimace a bit at the feeling. leon, however, can't take his eyes off the erotic sight.
"fuck... why didn't we do this sooner?" he murmurs, easing off of you to reach for the camera that was still recording you both. before you can protest, leon's already angling the camera down to your used, freshly-stuffed cunt, capturing the way his thick cum slowly leaks from your swollen folds. the sight pulls a low, hungry groan from leon's chest. his free hand gently spreads one of your thighs wider, giving the lens a better view of his cum dripping out of you. "shit, baby, think you can go again?"
you groan in protest, hand moving up to shove the camera playfully, obscuring the lens. "you're impossible." you say, rolling your eyes at his insatiability. he lets out a breathy chuckle at that, finally shutting the camera off after consciously double-checking the video was saved then sets it aside on the nightstand.
nier’s note 🗒️: wow uhm yeah.. this took way too long to get out hello. lowkey forgot about this blog for a bit sry guys... anywaysss im back with another banger or whatever wish i actually had more motivation to write more than this hello!!! hope u all enjoy anyways x
Summary: Rookie Leon falling asleep on your shoulder by accident.
Leon Kennedy was not a very social guy, often perceived as shy most of the time, awkward even. So when he heard about the travel plans his class was making to celebrate their graduation, he was not very convinced about going.
That was until he overheard you talking to your friends about it and suddenly it became the best plan in the whole world.
Three years.
Three full years trying to talk to you, trying to form a coherent sentence without stumbling whenever you were around, and still nothing.
You were completely out of his league. Massively out of his reach. You were pretty and smart and funny and, oh god, you were so perfect it hurt.
And most of all, you were kind.
You always smiled at him when there was absolutely no need to do it. You always waved goodbye to him when the bell rang and pretended not to notice how flustered he got every single time.
If you were going to be there, then so would he be, even if it was just to observe you from a safe distance like the complete coward he was.
He packed everything he thought he might need for the four-hour road trip. Earbuds, snacks, a couple of comics in case he got bored, an extra hoodie, his portable cassette player, everything carefully organized in his bag the night before because Leon Kennedy was the kind of person who got nervous even preparing for a bus ride.
Still, nothing could have prepared him for the panic that hit him once he actually stepped onto the bus.
His eyes scanned every seat what felt like more than ten times, searching for your face, waiting to hear your laugh or at least catch a glimpse of your hair somewhere between the crowded seats.
Nothing. No sign of your beautiful hair, your friendly eyes, or your soft smile.
His stomach sank immediately, maybe you decided to stay home this time, maybe he had dragged himself out here for nothing, he almost considered getting off the bus right there.
And then you appeared just two minutes before departure, breath uneven from running, backpack hanging from one shoulder while your eyes searched around for an empty seat.
Only then did Leon realize the only available seat was the one next to him.
That was not exactly surprising. Nobody usually fought to sit beside the awkward quiet guy who spent lunch breaks reading comics instead of talking.
But right now? Right now it felt like a miracle.
Maybe this was fate.
Maybe this was the universe finally taking pity on him after three years of suffering in silence.
Maybe this was God rewarding him for starting to go to church with his mom on Sundays again.
Fuck, maybe he was dreaming.
He dreamed about you all the time after all, his subconscious already knew every detail of your face by memory.
You looked around one more time before your eyes landed on him and then you smiled.
Leon almost passed out right there.
“Can I sit here?” you asked.
His brain completely shut down. “Uh…”
Great start, Kennedy.
“Yeah” he managed to say after a painful second. “Yeah, of course.”
You thanked him softly before sliding into the seat beside him, adjusting your bag on your lap while he sat completely stiff next to the window, trying not to visibly malfunction.
You smelled nice, that was the first thing his traitorous brain noticed, something soft and warm, maybe vanilla mixed with your shampoo, subtle enough that he only noticed it because you were so close.
You were sitting so close to him.
Leon felt his heart beating so hard he was genuinely worried you could hear it.
You settled comfortably beside him while the rest of the class continued talking loudly around the bus, completely unaware that Leon Kennedy was currently experiencing the most important moment of his life.
And somehow, things only got worse for him, because your eyes landed on the comic resting on his lap “Oh” you said, sounding genuinely interested. “You read those?”
Leon looked down like he had forgotten he was even holding it “Uh… yeah.”
You smiled immediately “What issue is it?”
His head snapped toward you so fast he almost hurt his neck “You know this series?”
Please say yes.
Please.
“Of course I do,” you laughed softly. “My older brother used to collect them. I started stealing his comics when I was little.”
Leon stared at you.
No.
No way.
Not only were you the prettiest girl he had ever seen, but you also liked comics?
That was unfair, actually unfair.
His crush on you had already been catastrophic enough, but now this? God clearly had favorites.
“What?” you asked, amused by the way he was looking at you.
“N-Nothing” he said quickly. “I just… didn’t think you liked this kind of stuff.”
“Well, now I’m offended,” you teased. “What exactly did you think I liked?”
Leon felt heat crawl all the way up his neck.
“I don’t know” he mumbled awkwardly. “Normal things.”
That made you laugh again, and Leon decided right there that your laugh was probably his favorite sound in the world.
“What’s a normal thing?” you asked.
“I don’t know” he repeated helplessly. “Stuff cool people like.”
“You think I’m cool?”
Oh god.
Abort mission.
Abort immediately.
Leon looked away so fast it was almost violent “Well…” he muttered. “Yeah.”
Your smile softened a little at that, and somehow, instead of making things easier, it only made his chest hurt more.
The conversation started flowing after that, slowly but naturally. At first Leon stumbled over his own words every couple of sentences, his hands awkwardly fidgeting with the corner of the comic book while he tried to survive your attention.
But you were patient, kind, you never made him feel weird for taking too long to answer. Never laughed when he lost track of what he was saying halfway through a sentence because your eyes distracted him too much, you simply listened.
And Leon realized, with growing horror, that talking to you was actually nice, dangerously nice.
You asked him about his favorite characters, and when he started rambling apologetically about storylines and alternate covers, expecting you to lose interest immediately, you just kept listening with your chin resting on your hand.
“You really like talking about this stuff, huh?” you said softly.
Leon froze, embarrassed instantly “Sorry.”
“What? No.” You looked genuinely surprised. “I think it’s cute.”
Cute.
Cute.
Leon Kennedy was going to die on this bus.
At some point, one of your friends called your name from a few seats away, asking if you wanted to switch places and sit with them instead.
Leon’s stomach dropped immediately, but then you shook your head “I’m good here!”
Good here.
Leon genuinely had to stare out the window for a second just to recover emotionally.
After a while, the bus became quieter. Some people started falling asleep, others listened to music or talked more quietly among themselves while the road stretched endlessly ahead, you leaned back into your seat with a sigh “Four hours is a lot longer than I expected” you murmured.
Leon nodded nervously, then, after hesitating for a second, he slowly reached into his bag. “I, uh…” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I brought music if you want to listen to something.”
Your smile returned instantly “I’d like that.”
Leon’s hands shook a little while untangling the earbuds and you pretended not to notice, he handed you one side carefully before pressing play on his cassette player, and a soft song filled the silence between you.
For a moment neither of you spoke.
You simply listened together while the bus moved steadily down the road, shoulders brushing every now and then whenever it hit a bump, Leon was hyperaware of everything, the warmth of your arm against his, the way you quietly hummed along to songs you recognized, the way you occasionally smiled at certain lyrics.
At some point, you started talking again, softer now, your voices naturally quieter to match the atmosphere around you, you spoke about music, movies, childhood memories, future plans.
And Leon listened to every word like it was the most important thing anyone had ever told him, hours passed without either of you noticing, at one point, you laughed so hard at one of his awkward jokes that you had to cover your mouth not to wake the others and Leon had never felt prouder of himself.
Eventually though, exhaustion started catching up to him, he had barely slept the night before because he was too nervous about this trip, too nervous about seeing you.
The music played softly in the background while the bus lights dimmed even more, the atmosphere turning warm and sleepy.
Leon tried to stay awake, really, really tried.
But your shoulder was right there, and you smelled nice, and the music was soft, and you kept talking in that gentle voice that made everything feel calm somehow.
His eyes started closing before he could stop them, his head tilted slightly, then more, and before he realized it, he felt something soft under his cheek, warm, comfortable.
His sleepy brain barely registered what happened before exhaustion fully won, he fell asleep on your shoulder completely by accident.
The second you felt the weight against you, you looked down in surprise and immediately melted.
Oh.
Oh, he was adorable.
Leon looked so peaceful asleep, all the nervous tension finally gone from his face. His blond hair fell messily over his forehead, lips slightly parted while he breathed slowly against your shoulder.
You could actually feel your heart ache a little.
Because after three years of watching him quietly admire you from afar, after three years of shy smiles and awkward eye contact and stumbling conversations in hallways, you knew something Leon clearly did not.
You had liked him for a very long time too.
Carefully, trying not to wake him, you adjusted your position slightly so he could rest more comfortably.
His sleepy self unconsciously moved even closer afterward.
And honestly? You did not mind at all, not even a little.
It was obvious to say Leon briefly considered opening the emergency exit and throwing himself onto the highway once he woke up.
Omg such a long time.. I hope you enjoy this one! Nerdy Leon Kennedy you'll always have a special place in my heart 😭.
hey!! ive been going back thru re4r recently and that scene where ashley is forced to point the gun at leon has been holding me hostage… i wanted to ask if i could request a similar situation between leon and the reader? (with a good ending…. please…..) i absolutely love the way u depict leon’s internal monologue, and i think u could bring something interesting to that kind of scenario! :D
This doesn't follow the exact events of RE4R, but I did use the scene you asked for. Just added more to it! Thanks for your patience, anon <3
Warnings: mind control, guns & deaths, angsty af, Leon uses nicknames sweetheart & my smart girl, happy ending i promise <3
Friendly Fire
The island felt alive in the worst possible way. Not alive like breathing. Alive like rot under floorboards. Like something wet and infected pulsing beneath the concrete walls. Golden light spilled down the corridor in uneven flashes, staining Leon's shirt yellow. The torches on the walls burned hot.
Somewhere deeper in the facility, metal groaned. Then came Ashley's scream. "Leon!"
The sound ripped through the hallway hard enough to make your pulse jump. Leon turned instantly toward it, boots skidding against the grated floor.
"Ashley!" he shouted back.
Static crackled faintly through the comms device in his ear. Nothing coherent. Just noise. He swore under his breath and started forward again, one hand already reaching toward the pistol holstered at his thigh.
Then the headache hit. White-hot agony split behind your eyes so violently your knees nearly buckled. You stumbled into the wall with a sharp gasp, fingers clawing against cold concrete as something foreign slithered through your skull. It felt alive. Moving around. Digging deeper every second.
A man steps out of a doorway at the other end of the room with two others following suit. He carries a staff of what looks like wiggling worms. He's wearing a hooded robe with gold and silver detailing. He has a large gold necklace with a ruby in the middle, which looks like a symbol you've seen here before. Leon instantly unholsters his gun and points it toward him.
"Welcome, my children." The man begins.
His hood is removed by a grey-skinned cultist behind him. You gasped as his head now reflected the light. Its black veins startle you, and the lumps at the back look alive.
"I am Osmund Saddler. The speaker of our Lord." He claims, lightly bowing his head.
"Tell someone who gives a shit," Leon responds.
He instantly fires a bullet straight at Saddler. It pierces his eye, and he stumbles backward. You flinch at the sound of the gun and grab onto Leon's arm.
"Foolish lambs..." he mutters. "Why do you deny grace?"
Saddler begins to stand up straighter. His once closed eyes open, and there's no sign of a bullet wound. The only thing on his face is dripping blood from where the bullet entered.
Did he just... heal himself?
Suddenly, you're both jerked forward. Leon lands on his knees and catches himself on his palms. His gun falls to the floor in front of him. Saddler has his hand outstretched, commanding this to continue. You stumble forward slightly, one hand catching yourself on Leon's back as you straighten, your legs pulling you forward slowly.
"Now, abandon your body!" Saddler commands.
Your body straightens completely. It isn't listening to you anymore. It's been pioneered by whatever this man is saying.
"Obey. Obey the voice of our Lord."
Your body continues to betray your wishes. Leon gets back to his feet, but he's stuck, too. As you move forward, Leon is fighting with everything he can to stop this. He only notices your movements when you make it by him. His eyes follow you forward.
You start to panic as tears stream down your face. Your body resists your pleas to stop. As you start to turn to face Leon, you finally understand what's going to happen.
"No... no, no, no!" You cry as you begin to bend down.
Kill him.
The voice wasn't heard with your ears. It bloomed directly inside your mind, smooth and terrible and absolute. Your breathing hitched. Your fingers twitched uselessly at your sides.
Kill him.
Another pulse of pain tore through your body. Your hand moved before you could stop it. Leon's pistol was in your hand before you could do anything about it. The sound of the gun sliding up off the floor rang out.
It looked wrong in your hands...too heavy. Too violent. The weight of the pistol felt monstrous. Your arms locked straight as the barrel pointed directly at Leon's chest.
No, no, no, no...
Terror surged through you so hard that tears burned your eyes. "Leon—" Your voice broke apart.
Leon had stared down plenty of guns before. Terrorists. Cultists. Monsters wearing human skin. None of it felt like this. None of them had ever looked at him with tears in their eyes. None of them had been the love of his life, against her will, pointing a gun straight at his chest. His pulse slammed hard against his ribs the second your arm lifted. Training kicked in instantly, cruelly efficient. Distance. Angle. Line of fire.
Nine millimeter handgun. Center mass. Can't even move if she pulls the trigger now. Fuck me...
Fear hit him sharply and immediately. Cold sweat prickled instantly at the back of his neck as the barrel settled at his chest. And the worst part wasn't the gun. It was your face. Tear-soaked cheeks and watery eyes held his gaze. You looked terrified, like you were still inside yourself somewhere, pounding helplessly against locked doors while Las Plagas puppeteered your body. Leon could barely stand it. His chest physically ached at the sight of it.
Jesus Christ...
For one horrible second, he imagined what this must feel like for you. A front row seat to your own body turning against him. The thought nearly unraveled him on the spot. He knows you wouldn't do this... knows you won't forgive yourself for this even though it's not your fault.
"Stop! No!" You tried desperately to claw at anything that might get this to stop.
The parasite twisted again. Your finger tightened against the trigger.
"Sweetheart," Leon said carefully.
The nickname nearly shattered you on the spot. Your grip faltered for half a second before the parasite forced your arms rigid again. Leon saw it happen. Saw the hesitation. Saw the tears rolling helplessly down your cheeks while your body held him at gunpoint against your will. And somehow, impossibly, his expression softened.
Keep fighting it, sweetheart.
"Look at me," he said quietly.
Ashley screamed again somewhere nearby, her voice echoing through the facility. "Please! Help!"
Every instinct in his body had to be screaming at him to move. To run toward her. To disarm you. To survive. But he couldn't. Your pulse thundered so loudly you could barely hear yourself breathing.
"Fight it," he murmured.
The parasite seized control harder. Your arms snapped upward, aiming directly between his eyes now.
A sob tore out of your throat. "I can't—"
"Yes, you can." His voice stayed low. Steady. Warm in a place that felt stripped of humanity.
You were close enough now that you could see the sweat dampening the strands of blond hair falling across his forehead. Close enough to see exhaustion carved deep beneath his blue eyes. And still, he looked at you like you were something worth saving.
"There you are," he whispered when another tear slipped down your cheek. "I know you're still in there."
The parasite shrieked through your skull.
Shoot him.
Your finger tightened involuntarily. Leon saw it happen. Still, he couldn't move away. His heartbeat lurched hard enough to hurt. Fear flashed hot through his bloodstream. He did want to live, contrary to the popular belief. You had so much left to do together, so much life left to live together... but beneath that instinct, louder somehow, came another thought.
Don't scare her, Leon.
Because you were already panicking. He could see it in the violent shaking of your hands. The tears spilling down your cheeks. The tiny, broken sounds of your breathing. You wanted to scream at him to run. Wanted to beg him not to stand there looking at you like that while your body became a weapon aimed straight at his heart.
If I look scared, she's gonna spiral.
"Leon," you choked out weakly.
His jaw tightened at the sound of your voice.
"It's okay," he said immediately, like he could hear every terrified thought ricocheting through your head. "It's not your fault, okay?"
You pulled the trigger. The gunshot exploded through the corridor. Your ears rang. The bullet slammed into the head of a cultist behind Leon's right shoulder, and it exploded in a violent spray of matter.
Thank fucking god, we have more time.
"Sweet child, do not resist!" Saddler chanted.
You began to move the gun back toward Leon, hands still shaking. The gun went off again, killing another cultist over Leon's left shoulder. You're sobbing now. The only person left in your line of sight is the man you would do anything to save. The man who brings you peace... the man who risks it all just to see you happy.
Leon was shaking now, too. He swallowed hard, keeping his eyes glued to yours. There were black veins showing under your eyes and down your arms. He no doubt had the same thing.
"Keep fighting," Leon said. "We're going to be okay."
His voice was shaky, but it was all he could muster. He knew he had to keep talking to you, and he was doing everything he could. You were looking at him like you were drowning.
Every pull of the trigger looked like it hurt you. Your breathing turned ragged. Tears streaked helplessly down your cheeks while your hands trembled harder around the pistol. Your eyes met his then, wet with panic and pleading so raw it shattered his heart where he was stuck.
Don't make her do this.
You could see every tiny tremor running through his hands, too. He could only be strong so long before he knew it was the last time. You were fighting the parasite with everything you had left.
The gun fired, but the sound was wrong. It clicked. You fired again, and it clicked again. For one disbelieving second, nobody moved. The gun was jammed. Leon stared at the pistol in stunned silence before realization crashed through him all at once.
Your grip... your resistance did that. I knew you could do it.
A broken sound escaped your throat immediately afterward, halfway between a sob and a gasp. Saddler dropped his hand. Finally, you slowly felt control come back to you. Your hand went limp, and the gun fell back to the floor in front of you with a sharp metallic clatter. Still shaking, you kept your eyes locked on Leon.
"Pray, forgive these wicked sinners," Saddler said. "My faithful disciple shall deliver to you your... penance."
Leon's entire focus stayed locked on you. On the tears running helplessly down your face. On the way your free hand shook like you were trying to physically stop your own body from moving.
For one fractured second, the entire chamber fell silent except for your ragged breathing. Saddler's pleasant expression had finally cracked. Only slightly. But Leon saw it. Saw the irritation tightening around his mouth as his gaze dropped briefly toward the jammed handgun at your feet. Around you, the remaining cultists shifted uneasily, their robes whispering against the floor as the torches flickered overhead.
You were still shaking. Not the parasite now. Exhaustion. Pain. Resistance. Leon's chest ached violently at the sight of it.
She stopped it.
Not luck. Not faulty ammunition. You. Somehow, through all of Saddler's control, all that agony splitting through your skull, you'd fought hard enough to save him anyway. And Leon couldn't do a damn thing except stand there trapped inside his own body, fingers twitching uselessly against the parasite's grip.
Saddler stepped toward you slowly. Disappointed.
"Such devotion," he mused softly. "Even now."
Your body went rigid again instantly. Leon's stomach dropped.
No.
Saddler's fingers curled slightly in the air, and pain tore visibly across your face as the parasite obeyed him again. A broken gasp escaped your throat. Your hands clenched at your sides hard enough to tremble, though it looked like you were reaching for something.
Your own weapon sat holstered just inside your jacket at your waist.
Saddler wouldn't have seen that... my smart girl.
You turned, not toward Leon this time, toward the cultists. Your hands slowly moved to your gun.
"You don't look like such a fighter..." Saddler teased.
Leon would laugh at that if he could.
Little does he know...
You moved as quickly as you could. Gunfire erupted. The nearest ganado dropped instantly, blood spraying across the stone wall behind him. Another shot. A second cultist collapsed with a wet choking sound. The room exploded into chaos.
Leon stared at you in shock. Not because you were attacking. Because he could see what you were doing. You weren't obeying correctly anymore. Saddler wanted control restored. Submission. Punishment. Instead, you were fighting like your body couldn't decide who it belonged to.
Every movement looked wrong. Jagged. Violent. Like the parasite was forcing one command while you twisted it into another at the last possible second. Another cultist lunged toward you. You shot him point-blank.
Saddler's voice sharpened suddenly. "Enough."
You flinched hard. One hand flew to your head as agony ripped visibly through your body again. The pistol nearly slipped from your fingers.
Leon's pulse hammered painfully against his ribs.
Move... MOVE...
His muscles strained violently beneath the parasite's restraint. Across the room, you staggered sideways, breathing in shattered little gasps while Saddler advanced toward you again.
And then your eyes lifted toward Leon, just for a second, but he saw it. Fear. Apology. And underneath both of them, something desperate and determined. You were still fighting... but you were telling him something else, too. I'm sorry if I don't make it, but I'm going to save you.
That realization hit Leon like a lightning strike straight through his chest. The parasite wanted obedience. But emotions complicated things. Luis had said as much. Strong enough willpower could interfere with control. And right now? You were tearing yourself apart trying to protect him.
Leon forced his hand to move. Pain shot violently through his arm. But this time, his fingers actually twitched upward. Saddler noticed immediately. His expression darkened.
"You continue to resist," he said coldly.
The pressure inside Leon's skull intensified instantly, sharp enough to blur his vision. Across the room, you cried out weakly and doubled over. Then another cultist grabbed your arm from behind. The knife at your thigh flashed free before Leon even processed the movement. You drove it backward into the cultist's throat with brutal force. Warm blood splattered across your sleeve. The body collapsed at your feet.
Saddler's patience finally snapped. The building trembled violently as alarms suddenly began blaring somewhere deeper in the island facility. An explosion boomed in the distance. For the first time, uncertainty crossed Saddler's face. Not fear. Annoyance.
The island was destabilizing faster than expected. Ashley was still secured elsewhere. And now both infected hosts were becoming unpredictable. Saddler stepped backward toward the massive metal doors.
"You delay the inevitable," he said calmly, though irritation still sharpened the edges of his voice.
You raised the pistol again instantly. This time, directly at him. Leon's breath caught. Saddler smiled faintly. Then the heavy metal doors began sliding shut between you. You fired. The bullet sparked violently against the narrowing gap just as the doors slammed closed with a deafening boom.
Silence crashed into the room afterward. The second Saddler disappeared from sight, the pressure inside Leon's skull vanished. Completely. Leon staggered hard, catching himself against a nearby pillar as his body suddenly became his own again.
Across the room, you dropped the pistol. It hit the floor a second before your knees did. Leon moved instantly. By the time you hit the ground, he was already there. His hands caught you hard against his chest while you shook violently in his arms, breaths breaking apart into panicked gasps.
"Hey," he breathed immediately.
One hand cradled the back of your head. The other tightened around you like he thought you might disappear if he loosened his grip.
"You're okay."
Your fingers twisted desperately into the front of his shirt.
"I couldn't stop it, Leon," you whispered brokenly. "I'm so sorry."
Leon's chest physically hurt hearing that. "You did. You did that."
His voice came out rougher than intended. He pulled back just enough to look at you properly, his hands framing your face again despite the blood smeared across your cheeks.
"You fought him the whole time," he said firmly. "You hear me?"
Your eyes filled instantly. Leon swallowed hard. God. Seeing you cry now, fully yourself again, nearly undid him worse than the gun ever had.
"Hey," he breathed. "I'm so proud of you."
The softness in his voice hurt worse than the parasite did. Your vision blurred. His forehead nearly touched yours now, his breathing uneven from adrenaline he was trying very hard not to show.
"You with me, sweetheart?"
Another sob broke loose from your chest. This time, when you looked at him, you were really looking at him. Recognition flickered across Leon's face so fast it almost looked painful.
"There you are," he whispered again.
Leon didn't let go of your face right away. His hands stayed cupped around your cheeks like he was afraid the second he moved, something would take you from him again. The torches on the wall pulsed across his features in uneven flashes, painting exhaustion into the lines of his face. Up close, you could see how hard he was breathing now. How tightly wound every muscle in his body had become. Not fear for himself. Fear for you.
"Talk to me," he said softly.
Your throat felt scraped raw. "I'm here."
Relief flickered across his expression so quickly it almost hurt to look at. Then Ashley screamed again. The sound snapped both of you back into reality.
"Leon!"
He cursed under his breath and finally pulled away, though one hand lingered briefly at your shoulder like he needed the reassurance that you were still standing there. Still yourself.
"You okay to move?"
You nodded too fast. The motion made the room sway unpleasantly. The parasite still writhed somewhere deep inside your skull, quieter now but not gone. Waiting. Watching. Leon noticed immediately.
His brow furrowed. "Hey." His voice dropped again, gentler this time. "Don't push yourself."
A shaky laugh escaped you before you could stop it. "Little late for that, don't you think?"
For the first time since this nightmare started, the corner of his mouth twitched upward. Tiny. Brief. Fragile as paper. Then another distant crash echoed through the facility, and the moment shattered.
Leon grabbed the pistol from the floor, quickly clearing the jam with practiced hands before reholstering it. His movements were efficient, automatic, but you noticed the way his fingers trembled afterward. Barely noticeable. The kind of thing most people wouldn't catch. You caught it. His eyes met yours for half a second. Neither of you mentioned it.
"C'mon," he said, already moving toward Ashley's voice. "Stay close to me."
The corridors twisted endlessly through the island facility, all cold steel and flickering lights. Somewhere overhead, alarms blared in uneven bursts. The entire structure felt unstable now, like the island itself knew it was dying.
You stayed at Leon's side while the parasite clawed at the edges of your thoughts the entire way. Sometimes it was only whispers. Sometimes it was worse.
A cultist lunged from a side hallway, screeching in Spanish as he swung a rusted pipe toward Leon's head. Leon dropped him with a single shot before you could even react, the gunfire deafening in the narrow corridor. The body hit the ground hard. Your stomach twisted violently. Not from the blood. From the sudden pulse of hunger that wasn't yours.
Your face must've betrayed something because his expression sharpened with concern. "You still with me?"
You swallowed hard and nodded once. "Yeah."
It wasn't a complete lie. He studied you for another second before offering his hand. Not because you couldn't walk alone. Just because. You took it, and somehow that made it easier to breathe.
By the time you found Ashley, the facility was falling apart around you. The deeper levels groaned like a sinking ship, stone walls shuddering at distant explosions that sent pale gray curtains of dust raining from the ceiling. Emergency sirens wailed overhead in harsh, uneven bursts.
Leon moved fast through it all. Even exhausted, even infected, he cut through the collapsing facility with relentless focus. One hand stayed near his pistol while the other kept brushing against your arm, your shoulder, the small of your back. Quick grounding touches. Little silent checks to make sure you were still there. Still yourself. Every time the parasite stirred inside your head, those touches became anchors.
Ashley's voice echoed somewhere ahead. "Leon!"
Relief flashed across his face so suddenly it almost looked painful.
"There," he said, already breaking into a run.
You followed close behind him through another narrow corridor before the hallway opened into a security checkpoint lined with overturned equipment and flickering monitors. Sparks showered from exposed wiring near the ceiling, filling the air with the sharp smell of burning metal.
Ashley stood behind a heavy security gate at the far end of the room. The second she saw Leon, she stumbled toward the bars. "Leon!"
"I'm here." The words left him instantly, firm and reassuring despite the exhaustion grinding through his voice.
Ashley gripped the metal bars so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her blond hair was disheveled, strands stuck to her damp cheeks, and her breathing came too fast. Fear still clung to her visibly. Then her eyes found you standing beside him. The relief on her face faltered. Not because she was afraid of you. Because she recognized the look in your eyes.
"Oh no," she whispered.
You knew exactly what she saw. The lingering haze. The exhaustion. The terrible awareness of something foreign moving beneath your thoughts like a parasite swimming under skin. The black veins that had taken over your face.
You nodded once. A distant explosion shook the room hard enough to rattle the bars between you.
Leon was already moving toward the nearby control panel, scanning it quickly. "Lock's electronic," he muttered. "Give me a second." His fingers flew over the damaged keypad while sparks hissed overhead.
You leaned heavily against a nearby desk, suddenly dizzy again. The parasite twisted sharply inside your skull. Pain lanced behind your eyes. Your breath caught.
Not now. Please not now.
You squeezed your eyes shut hard enough to see bursts of white across your vision. The whispers started immediately afterward, slithering through your thoughts in a voice that wasn't a voice at all.
He cannot save you.
Your stomach turned violently. Across the room, Leon glanced back instantly. The gate unlocked with a loud metallic clunk at the exact same moment Ashley pushed through it.
"Hey," Leon said sharply, abandoning the control panel the second he saw your expression. "Talk to me."
You tried, but nothing came out except a weak gasp. Ashley reached you first. Her hands caught your arms gently before your knees could give out completely. "It's okay," she said quickly, though her own voice shook. "I know. I know."
Leon crouched in front of you a second later. The concern in his eyes hit harder than the pain did. "Look at me, sweetheart."
The parasite writhed furiously at the sound of his voice. You forced yourself to focus on him anyway. On the familiar scrape of stubble along his jaw. The loose strand of blond hair falling over his forehead. The steady warmth of his hands gripping your shoulders. Reality.
You clung to it desperately. "I'm okay," you lied weakly.
Leon looked unconvinced in the most Leon Kennedy way possible. Quietly. Intensely. Like he was cataloging every tiny fracture in your expression and deciding which ones scared him most.
Before he could answer, the facility lurched violently again. The shake of the walls blew out a few of the torches. For one fleeting second, the softer light made Leon look less like a government agent and more like a tired man being asked to carry far too much.
"Okay," he said, standing quickly. "We move now."
None of you argued. The three of you pushed deeper into the facility together, weaving through collapsing corridors and abandoned houses while the island crumbled around you piece by piece. Ganados still wandered the halls in scattered groups, their movements jerky and violent under the parasite's control.
Every encounter felt uglier now. More desperate. Leon protected both of you almost mechanically at this point. A knife buried into a cultist's throat before they could grab Ashley. A quick gunshot to another's knee when it lunged toward you from the shadows. Every motion efficient. Precise. And it killed you that you couldn't help like before.
But exhaustion was catching up to him. You noticed it in the slight delay before he lowered his gun after each fight. The heavier rise and fall of his chest. The way his left hand occasionally pressed against the wall for balance when he thought neither of you were looking. The parasite inside him was getting worse, too. Nobody said it aloud. Nobody needed to.
By the time you finally reached the laboratory, all three of you looked half-dead. The surgical room waiting beyond the steel doors looked cold and inhuman beneath fluorescent lighting. Metal instruments gleamed from nearby trays. Wires coiled across the floor like nests of snakes.
Ashley stopped short beside you. "This place..." she whispered.
Leon stared toward the operating machine at the center of the room. Then he looked back at both of you. For the first time since this nightmare began, real uncertainty crossed his face. Not fear. Something quieter.
"You don't have to do this alone," you said softly.
His eyes snapped to yours. Something shifted there immediately. Something fragile, exhausted, and deeply human. Then Ashley stepped forward too, swallowing hard before forcing a nervous little smile.
"We'll get through it together," she said.
Leon looked at both of you for a long moment. Then he exhaled quietly through his nose, almost like he was letting himself believe that for the first time.
"Yeah," he murmured.
The operating room smelled sterile, yet couldn't quite hide the rot beneath. Bleach. Burned wires. Old blood. The machine at the center of the lab loomed beneath dim lights, all metal restraints and mechanical arms, humming softly with dormant power. It looked less like medical equipment and more like something built to interrogate people until they stopped being human.
Ashley stared at it with open dread. Leon stared at it like he was already calculating survival odds. A low tremor rolled through the facility again, rattling trays of surgical instruments hard enough to make them clatter against one another. Somewhere far above, another explosion boomed through the island. Time was running out.
Luis's notes were scattered across a nearby workstation, pages covered in frantic handwriting and half-finished diagrams. Leon moved toward them immediately, scanning through the information with narrowed eyes while Ashley hovered anxiously beside him.
You stayed near the doorway for a moment, one hand pressed against the wall to steady yourself as another pulse of nausea rolled through your body. The parasite was angry. You could feel it, like it knew what was coming.
Leon flipped through another page before speaking quietly. "The machine uses focused radiation to kill Las Plagas."
Ashley swallowed hard. "Radiation?"
"It's our only shot," he said. "And we need it before she... kills me."
You noticed the hesitation there. The uncertainty. None of this came with guarantees. It made you feel awful, but he wasn't wrong. Any minute, that parasite, Saddler, could make you do something unspeakable.
Leon looked back toward you then, and the guarded expression on his face softened immediately when he noticed how pale you'd gotten. "We need to hurry."
You nodded weakly. "I'm dizzy."
That wasn't the truth, exactly. The truth was that it felt like something inside your skull was clawing desperately to survive. Every thought hurt. Your heartbeat felt wrong. Your skin burned with fever one second and chilled the next. And underneath all of it lived the horrible fear that maybe you were already losing too much of yourself.
Leon crossed the room before you could drift any further into the thought. His hand settled carefully against the back of your neck. Warm. Steady.
"Hey," he murmured. "Stay with me."
The softness in his voice nearly undid you.
You looked up at him, exhausted enough now that it hurt to keep pretending you weren't terrified. "What if it doesn't work?"
The question came out smaller than you intended. Ashley looked down immediately, her expression tightening. Leon didn't.
His thumb brushed lightly against your neck once before falling away. "It will."
You searched his face for even a shred of doubt. Found none. Maybe he was lying. Maybe he believed it because he needed to. Either way, you held onto the certainty in his voice like a lifeline. Another violent tremor shook the room. Dust sifted from the ceiling.
Leon straightened immediately, survival instincts snapping back into place. "Ashley goes first."
"What?" she said quickly. "No, you should."
"Ashley." His tone ended the argument before it could start.
Reluctantly, she climbed onto the machine. The process was awful to watch. The mechanical arms locked into place around her while harsh light flooded the chamber, forcing Ashley to bite back cries of pain as the parasite fought violently inside her body. Leon stayed beside the controls the entire time, jaw tight, eyes fixed on her with unwavering focus. And when it was finally over, Ashley nearly collapsed stepping off the platform.
Leon caught her immediately. "You okay?"
Ashley laughed weakly through exhausted tears. "I think so."
Relief flickered across his face. Real relief this time. One down. Then his attention shifted toward you. The room suddenly felt colder. You stared at the machine while dread pooled heavily in your stomach. Leon noticed. Of course he did.
"Sweetheart."
Your eyes lifted toward him.
"It's gonna hurt," he admitted quietly. "But I need you to trust me, okay?"
God. Even now, he asked instead of demanded.
You nodded slowly. "I trust you."
Something moved across his expression at that. Quick and almost wounded. Then he helped you onto the platform. His hands stayed on your arms longer than necessary while he adjusted the restraints carefully, like he hated every second of this already.
"You ready?" he asked softly.
No. Not even close.
But you looked at him anyway and whispered, "Yeah."
The machine roared to life. Pain hit instantly. A scream tore from your throat before you could stop it. Every nerve in your body ignited at once as the parasite fought desperately to survive, thrashing violently inside your skull like something drowning. Your vision blurred white-hot. You could hear yourself crying out somewhere far away.
And through all of it, you heard Leon's voice. "You're okay."
Another surge of agony ripped through you.
"C'mon, sweetheart."
Your hands strained uselessly against the restraints.
"It's almost over."
The parasite shrieked inside your head. Then suddenly, horribly, wonderfully... Silence. Its absence nearly hurt more. The machine powered down slowly. Your body went limp instantly afterward, trembling violently from exhaustion.
"Easy," Leon said quickly.
Strong hands caught you before you could fall off the platform entirely. For a second, all you could do was breathe. No whispers. No pressure behind your eyes. No foreign thing twisting your thoughts into knots.
"It's gone," you whispered hoarsely.
Ashley laughed somewhere nearby, sounding half on the verge of tears herself. Leon didn't answer right away. You looked up just in time to catch the expression on his face. More relief. Pure, overwhelming relief. Like he'd been holding his breath this entire time.
His forehead dipped briefly against yours before he seemed to realize he was doing it. "You scared the hell outta me," he murmured.
The confession slipped out so quietly it almost sounded accidental.
Your chest tightened painfully. "I'm sorry, Lee."
His brows pulled together immediately. "Don't do that."
"What?"
"Apologizing."
His hand rose to your face again automatically, thumb brushing beneath your eye where tears had dried against your skin.
"You fought it," he said softly. "I know you did."
"Your turn." Ashley pointed at Leon.
You squeezed his arm before he lay down on the table. He took a few deep breaths before the machine did its job. Leon bit back a yell for fear of startling you and Ashley. When it was over, he sat up and looked between you.
"Let's get the hell outta here."
The escape from the island blurred together afterward in flashes of chaos. Collapsing walkways. Smoke choking the air. The roar of distant explosions shook the cliffs beneath your feet, while Leon kept all three of you moving forward through sheer stubbornness alone.
By the time you finally reached the shoreline, dawn had started bleeding slowly across the horizon. The sky over the water glowed soft blue and pale gold, the first real sunlight any of you had seen in what felt like years.
Ashley collapsed into the boat first with a groan. "I am never coming to Europe again."
Leon snorted quietly as he helped you in after her. The engine sputtered to life beneath his hands. Then the island began collapsing behind you for real. Fire climbed into the morning sky in massive waves while the distant facility crumbled inward piece by piece, swallowed by smoke and ocean spray. Nobody spoke for a while. There wasn't anything left to say.
The cold wind coming off the water tangled through Leon's hair while he guided the boat forward across the open sea. Exhaustion sat heavily across his features now that adrenaline was finally fading. Still, every few seconds, his eyes drifted toward you. Checking you out. Making sure you were still there with him.
Eventually, Ashley fell asleep curled against the side of the boat, worn out beyond consciousness. The engine hummed steadily beneath the silence afterward. You shifted slightly closer to Leon without really thinking about it. His gaze flickered toward you immediately.
"You okay?"
You smiled faintly despite yourself. "You ask that a lot."
"Pretty sure that's in both job descriptions somewhere," he murmured.
You smiled faintly. "Yeah?"
A small, crooked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Federal agent and boyfriend."
The tiny joke sounded rough around the edges from everything you'd just been through. There was another long stretch where neither of you spoke. Then Leon finally exhaled quietly and leaned back in his seat, eyes drifting toward the horizon.
The sunrise painted gold across the ocean around you. It was peaceful, almost impossible after everything that had happened just hours before. He looked handsome... the light hit his face so beautifully.
"You know," he said softly, "when you pointed that gun at me..."
Your stomach twisted instantly.
Leon noticed and shook his head before you could say anything. "I wasn't scared of you."
The words settled heavily into the space between you. "I knew you were fighting it."
Emotion clogged painfully in your throat. "You could've died. I could've... I could've killed you."
"Yeah." A tired little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Wouldn't be my first bad day."
You let out a weak laugh that turned suspiciously emotional halfway through. Leon's expression softened immediately. Then, very gently, he reached over, took your hand, and pulled it to his mouth. Just a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, full of warmth. His thumb brushed slowly across your knuckles while the boat carried all three of you farther away from the nightmare behind you.
Safe. Finally safe. Leon looked at you for a long, quiet moment beneath the growing morning light. Then he smiled. Small. Real. And devastating enough to make your chest ache.
"Told you we'd make it," he murmured.
-
Thanks for reading! My requests are open! I'd love to hear from you.
hey!! ive been going back thru re4r recently and that scene where ashley is forced to point the gun at leon has been holding me hostage… i wanted to ask if i could request a similar situation between leon and the reader? (with a good ending…. please…..) i absolutely love the way u depict leon’s internal monologue, and i think u could bring something interesting to that kind of scenario! :D
This doesn't follow the exact events of RE4R, but I did use the scene you asked for. Just added more to it! Thanks for your patience, anon <3
Warnings: mind control, guns & deaths, angsty af, Leon uses nicknames sweetheart & my smart girl, happy ending i promise <3
Friendly Fire
The island felt alive in the worst possible way. Not alive like breathing. Alive like rot under floorboards. Like something wet and infected pulsing beneath the concrete walls. Golden light spilled down the corridor in uneven flashes, staining Leon's shirt yellow. The torches on the walls burned hot.
Somewhere deeper in the facility, metal groaned. Then came Ashley's scream. "Leon!"
The sound ripped through the hallway hard enough to make your pulse jump. Leon turned instantly toward it, boots skidding against the grated floor.
"Ashley!" he shouted back.
Static crackled faintly through the comms device in his ear. Nothing coherent. Just noise. He swore under his breath and started forward again, one hand already reaching toward the pistol holstered at his thigh.
Then the headache hit. White-hot agony split behind your eyes so violently your knees nearly buckled. You stumbled into the wall with a sharp gasp, fingers clawing against cold concrete as something foreign slithered through your skull. It felt alive. Moving around. Digging deeper every second.
A man steps out of a doorway at the other end of the room with two others following suit. He carries a staff of what looks like wiggling worms. He's wearing a hooded robe with gold and silver detailing. He has a large gold necklace with a ruby in the middle, which looks like a symbol you've seen here before. Leon instantly unholsters his gun and points it toward him.
"Welcome, my children." The man begins.
His hood is removed by a grey-skinned cultist behind him. You gasped as his head now reflected the light. Its black veins startle you, and the lumps at the back look alive.
"I am Osmund Saddler. The speaker of our Lord." He claims, lightly bowing his head.
"Tell someone who gives a shit," Leon responds.
He instantly fires a bullet straight at Saddler. It pierces his eye, and he stumbles backward. You flinch at the sound of the gun and grab onto Leon's arm.
"Foolish lambs..." he mutters. "Why do you deny grace?"
Saddler begins to stand up straighter. His once closed eyes open, and there's no sign of a bullet wound. The only thing on his face is dripping blood from where the bullet entered.
Did he just... heal himself?
Suddenly, you're both jerked forward. Leon lands on his knees and catches himself on his palms. His gun falls to the floor in front of him. Saddler has his hand outstretched, commanding this to continue. You stumble forward slightly, one hand catching yourself on Leon's back as you straighten, your legs pulling you forward slowly.
"Now, abandon your body!" Saddler commands.
Your body straightens completely. It isn't listening to you anymore. It's been pioneered by whatever this man is saying.
"Obey. Obey the voice of our Lord."
Your body continues to betray your wishes. Leon gets back to his feet, but he's stuck, too. As you move forward, Leon is fighting with everything he can to stop this. He only notices your movements when you make it by him. His eyes follow you forward.
You start to panic as tears stream down your face. Your body resists your pleas to stop. As you start to turn to face Leon, you finally understand what's going to happen.
"No... no, no, no!" You cry as you begin to bend down.
Kill him.
The voice wasn't heard with your ears. It bloomed directly inside your mind, smooth and terrible and absolute. Your breathing hitched. Your fingers twitched uselessly at your sides.
Kill him.
Another pulse of pain tore through your body. Your hand moved before you could stop it. Leon's pistol was in your hand before you could do anything about it. The sound of the gun sliding up off the floor rang out.
It looked wrong in your hands...too heavy. Too violent. The weight of the pistol felt monstrous. Your arms locked straight as the barrel pointed directly at Leon's chest.
No, no, no, no...
Terror surged through you so hard that tears burned your eyes. "Leon—" Your voice broke apart.
Leon had stared down plenty of guns before. Terrorists. Cultists. Monsters wearing human skin. None of it felt like this. None of them had ever looked at him with tears in their eyes. None of them had been the love of his life, against her will, pointing a gun straight at his chest. His pulse slammed hard against his ribs the second your arm lifted. Training kicked in instantly, cruelly efficient. Distance. Angle. Line of fire.
Nine millimeter handgun. Center mass. Can't even move if she pulls the trigger now. Fuck me...
Fear hit him sharply and immediately. Cold sweat prickled instantly at the back of his neck as the barrel settled at his chest. And the worst part wasn't the gun. It was your face. Tear-soaked cheeks and watery eyes held his gaze. You looked terrified, like you were still inside yourself somewhere, pounding helplessly against locked doors while Las Plagas puppeteered your body. Leon could barely stand it. His chest physically ached at the sight of it.
Jesus Christ...
For one horrible second, he imagined what this must feel like for you. A front row seat to your own body turning against him. The thought nearly unraveled him on the spot. He knows you wouldn't do this... knows you won't forgive yourself for this even though it's not your fault.
"Stop! No!" You tried desperately to claw at anything that might get this to stop.
The parasite twisted again. Your finger tightened against the trigger.
"Sweetheart," Leon said carefully.
The nickname nearly shattered you on the spot. Your grip faltered for half a second before the parasite forced your arms rigid again. Leon saw it happen. Saw the hesitation. Saw the tears rolling helplessly down your cheeks while your body held him at gunpoint against your will. And somehow, impossibly, his expression softened.
Keep fighting it, sweetheart.
"Look at me," he said quietly.
Ashley screamed again somewhere nearby, her voice echoing through the facility. "Please! Help!"
Every instinct in his body had to be screaming at him to move. To run toward her. To disarm you. To survive. But he couldn't. Your pulse thundered so loudly you could barely hear yourself breathing.
"Fight it," he murmured.
The parasite seized control harder. Your arms snapped upward, aiming directly between his eyes now.
A sob tore out of your throat. "I can't—"
"Yes, you can." His voice stayed low. Steady. Warm in a place that felt stripped of humanity.
You were close enough now that you could see the sweat dampening the strands of blond hair falling across his forehead. Close enough to see exhaustion carved deep beneath his blue eyes. And still, he looked at you like you were something worth saving.
"There you are," he whispered when another tear slipped down your cheek. "I know you're still in there."
The parasite shrieked through your skull.
Shoot him.
Your finger tightened involuntarily. Leon saw it happen. Still, he couldn't move away. His heartbeat lurched hard enough to hurt. Fear flashed hot through his bloodstream. He did want to live, contrary to the popular belief. You had so much left to do together, so much life left to live together... but beneath that instinct, louder somehow, came another thought.
Don't scare her, Leon.
Because you were already panicking. He could see it in the violent shaking of your hands. The tears spilling down your cheeks. The tiny, broken sounds of your breathing. You wanted to scream at him to run. Wanted to beg him not to stand there looking at you like that while your body became a weapon aimed straight at his heart.
If I look scared, she's gonna spiral.
"Leon," you choked out weakly.
His jaw tightened at the sound of your voice.
"It's okay," he said immediately, like he could hear every terrified thought ricocheting through your head. "It's not your fault, okay?"
You pulled the trigger. The gunshot exploded through the corridor. Your ears rang. The bullet slammed into the head of a cultist behind Leon's right shoulder, and it exploded in a violent spray of matter.
Thank fucking god, we have more time.
"Sweet child, do not resist!" Saddler chanted.
You began to move the gun back toward Leon, hands still shaking. The gun went off again, killing another cultist over Leon's left shoulder. You're sobbing now. The only person left in your line of sight is the man you would do anything to save. The man who brings you peace... the man who risks it all just to see you happy.
Leon was shaking now, too. He swallowed hard, keeping his eyes glued to yours. There were black veins showing under your eyes and down your arms. He no doubt had the same thing.
"Keep fighting," Leon said. "We're going to be okay."
His voice was shaky, but it was all he could muster. He knew he had to keep talking to you, and he was doing everything he could. You were looking at him like you were drowning.
Every pull of the trigger looked like it hurt you. Your breathing turned ragged. Tears streaked helplessly down your cheeks while your hands trembled harder around the pistol. Your eyes met his then, wet with panic and pleading so raw it shattered his heart where he was stuck.
Don't make her do this.
You could see every tiny tremor running through his hands, too. He could only be strong so long before he knew it was the last time. You were fighting the parasite with everything you had left.
The gun fired, but the sound was wrong. It clicked. You fired again, and it clicked again. For one disbelieving second, nobody moved. The gun was jammed. Leon stared at the pistol in stunned silence before realization crashed through him all at once.
Your grip... your resistance did that. I knew you could do it.
A broken sound escaped your throat immediately afterward, halfway between a sob and a gasp. Saddler dropped his hand. Finally, you slowly felt control come back to you. Your hand went limp, and the gun fell back to the floor in front of you with a sharp metallic clatter. Still shaking, you kept your eyes locked on Leon.
"Pray, forgive these wicked sinners," Saddler said. "My faithful disciple shall deliver to you your... penance."
Leon's entire focus stayed locked on you. On the tears running helplessly down your face. On the way your free hand shook like you were trying to physically stop your own body from moving.
For one fractured second, the entire chamber fell silent except for your ragged breathing. Saddler's pleasant expression had finally cracked. Only slightly. But Leon saw it. Saw the irritation tightening around his mouth as his gaze dropped briefly toward the jammed handgun at your feet. Around you, the remaining cultists shifted uneasily, their robes whispering against the floor as the torches flickered overhead.
You were still shaking. Not the parasite now. Exhaustion. Pain. Resistance. Leon's chest ached violently at the sight of it.
She stopped it.
Not luck. Not faulty ammunition. You. Somehow, through all of Saddler's control, all that agony splitting through your skull, you'd fought hard enough to save him anyway. And Leon couldn't do a damn thing except stand there trapped inside his own body, fingers twitching uselessly against the parasite's grip.
Saddler stepped toward you slowly. Disappointed.
"Such devotion," he mused softly. "Even now."
Your body went rigid again instantly. Leon's stomach dropped.
No.
Saddler's fingers curled slightly in the air, and pain tore visibly across your face as the parasite obeyed him again. A broken gasp escaped your throat. Your hands clenched at your sides hard enough to tremble, though it looked like you were reaching for something.
Your own weapon sat holstered just inside your jacket at your waist.
Saddler wouldn't have seen that... my smart girl.
You turned, not toward Leon this time, toward the cultists. Your hands slowly moved to your gun.
"You don't look like such a fighter..." Saddler teased.
Leon would laugh at that if he could.
Little does he know...
You moved as quickly as you could. Gunfire erupted. The nearest ganado dropped instantly, blood spraying across the stone wall behind him. Another shot. A second cultist collapsed with a wet choking sound. The room exploded into chaos.
Leon stared at you in shock. Not because you were attacking. Because he could see what you were doing. You weren't obeying correctly anymore. Saddler wanted control restored. Submission. Punishment. Instead, you were fighting like your body couldn't decide who it belonged to.
Every movement looked wrong. Jagged. Violent. Like the parasite was forcing one command while you twisted it into another at the last possible second. Another cultist lunged toward you. You shot him point-blank.
Saddler's voice sharpened suddenly. "Enough."
You flinched hard. One hand flew to your head as agony ripped visibly through your body again. The pistol nearly slipped from your fingers.
Leon's pulse hammered painfully against his ribs.
Move... MOVE...
His muscles strained violently beneath the parasite's restraint. Across the room, you staggered sideways, breathing in shattered little gasps while Saddler advanced toward you again.
And then your eyes lifted toward Leon, just for a second, but he saw it. Fear. Apology. And underneath both of them, something desperate and determined. You were still fighting... but you were telling him something else, too. I'm sorry if I don't make it, but I'm going to save you.
That realization hit Leon like a lightning strike straight through his chest. The parasite wanted obedience. But emotions complicated things. Luis had said as much. Strong enough willpower could interfere with control. And right now? You were tearing yourself apart trying to protect him.
Leon forced his hand to move. Pain shot violently through his arm. But this time, his fingers actually twitched upward. Saddler noticed immediately. His expression darkened.
"You continue to resist," he said coldly.
The pressure inside Leon's skull intensified instantly, sharp enough to blur his vision. Across the room, you cried out weakly and doubled over. Then another cultist grabbed your arm from behind. The knife at your thigh flashed free before Leon even processed the movement. You drove it backward into the cultist's throat with brutal force. Warm blood splattered across your sleeve. The body collapsed at your feet.
Saddler's patience finally snapped. The building trembled violently as alarms suddenly began blaring somewhere deeper in the island facility. An explosion boomed in the distance. For the first time, uncertainty crossed Saddler's face. Not fear. Annoyance.
The island was destabilizing faster than expected. Ashley was still secured elsewhere. And now both infected hosts were becoming unpredictable. Saddler stepped backward toward the massive metal doors.
"You delay the inevitable," he said calmly, though irritation still sharpened the edges of his voice.
You raised the pistol again instantly. This time, directly at him. Leon's breath caught. Saddler smiled faintly. Then the heavy metal doors began sliding shut between you. You fired. The bullet sparked violently against the narrowing gap just as the doors slammed closed with a deafening boom.
Silence crashed into the room afterward. The second Saddler disappeared from sight, the pressure inside Leon's skull vanished. Completely. Leon staggered hard, catching himself against a nearby pillar as his body suddenly became his own again.
Across the room, you dropped the pistol. It hit the floor a second before your knees did. Leon moved instantly. By the time you hit the ground, he was already there. His hands caught you hard against his chest while you shook violently in his arms, breaths breaking apart into panicked gasps.
"Hey," he breathed immediately.
One hand cradled the back of your head. The other tightened around you like he thought you might disappear if he loosened his grip.
"You're okay."
Your fingers twisted desperately into the front of his shirt.
"I couldn't stop it, Leon," you whispered brokenly. "I'm so sorry."
Leon's chest physically hurt hearing that. "You did. You did that."
His voice came out rougher than intended. He pulled back just enough to look at you properly, his hands framing your face again despite the blood smeared across your cheeks.
"You fought him the whole time," he said firmly. "You hear me?"
Your eyes filled instantly. Leon swallowed hard. God. Seeing you cry now, fully yourself again, nearly undid him worse than the gun ever had.
"Hey," he breathed. "I'm so proud of you."
The softness in his voice hurt worse than the parasite did. Your vision blurred. His forehead nearly touched yours now, his breathing uneven from adrenaline he was trying very hard not to show.
"You with me, sweetheart?"
Another sob broke loose from your chest. This time, when you looked at him, you were really looking at him. Recognition flickered across Leon's face so fast it almost looked painful.
"There you are," he whispered again.
Leon didn't let go of your face right away. His hands stayed cupped around your cheeks like he was afraid the second he moved, something would take you from him again. The torches on the wall pulsed across his features in uneven flashes, painting exhaustion into the lines of his face. Up close, you could see how hard he was breathing now. How tightly wound every muscle in his body had become. Not fear for himself. Fear for you.
"Talk to me," he said softly.
Your throat felt scraped raw. "I'm here."
Relief flickered across his expression so quickly it almost hurt to look at. Then Ashley screamed again. The sound snapped both of you back into reality.
"Leon!"
He cursed under his breath and finally pulled away, though one hand lingered briefly at your shoulder like he needed the reassurance that you were still standing there. Still yourself.
"You okay to move?"
You nodded too fast. The motion made the room sway unpleasantly. The parasite still writhed somewhere deep inside your skull, quieter now but not gone. Waiting. Watching. Leon noticed immediately.
His brow furrowed. "Hey." His voice dropped again, gentler this time. "Don't push yourself."
A shaky laugh escaped you before you could stop it. "Little late for that, don't you think?"
For the first time since this nightmare started, the corner of his mouth twitched upward. Tiny. Brief. Fragile as paper. Then another distant crash echoed through the facility, and the moment shattered.
Leon grabbed the pistol from the floor, quickly clearing the jam with practiced hands before reholstering it. His movements were efficient, automatic, but you noticed the way his fingers trembled afterward. Barely noticeable. The kind of thing most people wouldn't catch. You caught it. His eyes met yours for half a second. Neither of you mentioned it.
"C'mon," he said, already moving toward Ashley's voice. "Stay close to me."
The corridors twisted endlessly through the island facility, all cold steel and flickering lights. Somewhere overhead, alarms blared in uneven bursts. The entire structure felt unstable now, like the island itself knew it was dying.
You stayed at Leon's side while the parasite clawed at the edges of your thoughts the entire way. Sometimes it was only whispers. Sometimes it was worse.
A cultist lunged from a side hallway, screeching in Spanish as he swung a rusted pipe toward Leon's head. Leon dropped him with a single shot before you could even react, the gunfire deafening in the narrow corridor. The body hit the ground hard. Your stomach twisted violently. Not from the blood. From the sudden pulse of hunger that wasn't yours.
Your face must've betrayed something because his expression sharpened with concern. "You still with me?"
You swallowed hard and nodded once. "Yeah."
It wasn't a complete lie. He studied you for another second before offering his hand. Not because you couldn't walk alone. Just because. You took it, and somehow that made it easier to breathe.
By the time you found Ashley, the facility was falling apart around you. The deeper levels groaned like a sinking ship, stone walls shuddering at distant explosions that sent pale gray curtains of dust raining from the ceiling. Emergency sirens wailed overhead in harsh, uneven bursts.
Leon moved fast through it all. Even exhausted, even infected, he cut through the collapsing facility with relentless focus. One hand stayed near his pistol while the other kept brushing against your arm, your shoulder, the small of your back. Quick grounding touches. Little silent checks to make sure you were still there. Still yourself. Every time the parasite stirred inside your head, those touches became anchors.
Ashley's voice echoed somewhere ahead. "Leon!"
Relief flashed across his face so suddenly it almost looked painful.
"There," he said, already breaking into a run.
You followed close behind him through another narrow corridor before the hallway opened into a security checkpoint lined with overturned equipment and flickering monitors. Sparks showered from exposed wiring near the ceiling, filling the air with the sharp smell of burning metal.
Ashley stood behind a heavy security gate at the far end of the room. The second she saw Leon, she stumbled toward the bars. "Leon!"
"I'm here." The words left him instantly, firm and reassuring despite the exhaustion grinding through his voice.
Ashley gripped the metal bars so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her blond hair was disheveled, strands stuck to her damp cheeks, and her breathing came too fast. Fear still clung to her visibly. Then her eyes found you standing beside him. The relief on her face faltered. Not because she was afraid of you. Because she recognized the look in your eyes.
"Oh no," she whispered.
You knew exactly what she saw. The lingering haze. The exhaustion. The terrible awareness of something foreign moving beneath your thoughts like a parasite swimming under skin. The black veins that had taken over your face.
You nodded once. A distant explosion shook the room hard enough to rattle the bars between you.
Leon was already moving toward the nearby control panel, scanning it quickly. "Lock's electronic," he muttered. "Give me a second." His fingers flew over the damaged keypad while sparks hissed overhead.
You leaned heavily against a nearby desk, suddenly dizzy again. The parasite twisted sharply inside your skull. Pain lanced behind your eyes. Your breath caught.
Not now. Please not now.
You squeezed your eyes shut hard enough to see bursts of white across your vision. The whispers started immediately afterward, slithering through your thoughts in a voice that wasn't a voice at all.
He cannot save you.
Your stomach turned violently. Across the room, Leon glanced back instantly. The gate unlocked with a loud metallic clunk at the exact same moment Ashley pushed through it.
"Hey," Leon said sharply, abandoning the control panel the second he saw your expression. "Talk to me."
You tried, but nothing came out except a weak gasp. Ashley reached you first. Her hands caught your arms gently before your knees could give out completely. "It's okay," she said quickly, though her own voice shook. "I know. I know."
Leon crouched in front of you a second later. The concern in his eyes hit harder than the pain did. "Look at me, sweetheart."
The parasite writhed furiously at the sound of his voice. You forced yourself to focus on him anyway. On the familiar scrape of stubble along his jaw. The loose strand of blond hair falling over his forehead. The steady warmth of his hands gripping your shoulders. Reality.
You clung to it desperately. "I'm okay," you lied weakly.
Leon looked unconvinced in the most Leon Kennedy way possible. Quietly. Intensely. Like he was cataloging every tiny fracture in your expression and deciding which ones scared him most.
Before he could answer, the facility lurched violently again. The shake of the walls blew out a few of the torches. For one fleeting second, the softer light made Leon look less like a government agent and more like a tired man being asked to carry far too much.
"Okay," he said, standing quickly. "We move now."
None of you argued. The three of you pushed deeper into the facility together, weaving through collapsing corridors and abandoned houses while the island crumbled around you piece by piece. Ganados still wandered the halls in scattered groups, their movements jerky and violent under the parasite's control.
Every encounter felt uglier now. More desperate. Leon protected both of you almost mechanically at this point. A knife buried into a cultist's throat before they could grab Ashley. A quick gunshot to another's knee when it lunged toward you from the shadows. Every motion efficient. Precise. And it killed you that you couldn't help like before.
But exhaustion was catching up to him. You noticed it in the slight delay before he lowered his gun after each fight. The heavier rise and fall of his chest. The way his left hand occasionally pressed against the wall for balance when he thought neither of you were looking. The parasite inside him was getting worse, too. Nobody said it aloud. Nobody needed to.
By the time you finally reached the laboratory, all three of you looked half-dead. The surgical room waiting beyond the steel doors looked cold and inhuman beneath fluorescent lighting. Metal instruments gleamed from nearby trays. Wires coiled across the floor like nests of snakes.
Ashley stopped short beside you. "This place..." she whispered.
Leon stared toward the operating machine at the center of the room. Then he looked back at both of you. For the first time since this nightmare began, real uncertainty crossed his face. Not fear. Something quieter.
"You don't have to do this alone," you said softly.
His eyes snapped to yours. Something shifted there immediately. Something fragile, exhausted, and deeply human. Then Ashley stepped forward too, swallowing hard before forcing a nervous little smile.
"We'll get through it together," she said.
Leon looked at both of you for a long moment. Then he exhaled quietly through his nose, almost like he was letting himself believe that for the first time.
"Yeah," he murmured.
The operating room smelled sterile, yet couldn't quite hide the rot beneath. Bleach. Burned wires. Old blood. The machine at the center of the lab loomed beneath dim lights, all metal restraints and mechanical arms, humming softly with dormant power. It looked less like medical equipment and more like something built to interrogate people until they stopped being human.
Ashley stared at it with open dread. Leon stared at it like he was already calculating survival odds. A low tremor rolled through the facility again, rattling trays of surgical instruments hard enough to make them clatter against one another. Somewhere far above, another explosion boomed through the island. Time was running out.
Luis's notes were scattered across a nearby workstation, pages covered in frantic handwriting and half-finished diagrams. Leon moved toward them immediately, scanning through the information with narrowed eyes while Ashley hovered anxiously beside him.
You stayed near the doorway for a moment, one hand pressed against the wall to steady yourself as another pulse of nausea rolled through your body. The parasite was angry. You could feel it, like it knew what was coming.
Leon flipped through another page before speaking quietly. "The machine uses focused radiation to kill Las Plagas."
Ashley swallowed hard. "Radiation?"
"It's our only shot," he said. "And we need it before she... kills me."
You noticed the hesitation there. The uncertainty. None of this came with guarantees. It made you feel awful, but he wasn't wrong. Any minute, that parasite, Saddler, could make you do something unspeakable.
Leon looked back toward you then, and the guarded expression on his face softened immediately when he noticed how pale you'd gotten. "We need to hurry."
You nodded weakly. "I'm dizzy."
That wasn't the truth, exactly. The truth was that it felt like something inside your skull was clawing desperately to survive. Every thought hurt. Your heartbeat felt wrong. Your skin burned with fever one second and chilled the next. And underneath all of it lived the horrible fear that maybe you were already losing too much of yourself.
Leon crossed the room before you could drift any further into the thought. His hand settled carefully against the back of your neck. Warm. Steady.
"Hey," he murmured. "Stay with me."
The softness in his voice nearly undid you.
You looked up at him, exhausted enough now that it hurt to keep pretending you weren't terrified. "What if it doesn't work?"
The question came out smaller than you intended. Ashley looked down immediately, her expression tightening. Leon didn't.
His thumb brushed lightly against your neck once before falling away. "It will."
You searched his face for even a shred of doubt. Found none. Maybe he was lying. Maybe he believed it because he needed to. Either way, you held onto the certainty in his voice like a lifeline. Another violent tremor shook the room. Dust sifted from the ceiling.
Leon straightened immediately, survival instincts snapping back into place. "Ashley goes first."
"What?" she said quickly. "No, you should."
"Ashley." His tone ended the argument before it could start.
Reluctantly, she climbed onto the machine. The process was awful to watch. The mechanical arms locked into place around her while harsh light flooded the chamber, forcing Ashley to bite back cries of pain as the parasite fought violently inside her body. Leon stayed beside the controls the entire time, jaw tight, eyes fixed on her with unwavering focus. And when it was finally over, Ashley nearly collapsed stepping off the platform.
Leon caught her immediately. "You okay?"
Ashley laughed weakly through exhausted tears. "I think so."
Relief flickered across his face. Real relief this time. One down. Then his attention shifted toward you. The room suddenly felt colder. You stared at the machine while dread pooled heavily in your stomach. Leon noticed. Of course he did.
"Sweetheart."
Your eyes lifted toward him.
"It's gonna hurt," he admitted quietly. "But I need you to trust me, okay?"
God. Even now, he asked instead of demanded.
You nodded slowly. "I trust you."
Something moved across his expression at that. Quick and almost wounded. Then he helped you onto the platform. His hands stayed on your arms longer than necessary while he adjusted the restraints carefully, like he hated every second of this already.
"You ready?" he asked softly.
No. Not even close.
But you looked at him anyway and whispered, "Yeah."
The machine roared to life. Pain hit instantly. A scream tore from your throat before you could stop it. Every nerve in your body ignited at once as the parasite fought desperately to survive, thrashing violently inside your skull like something drowning. Your vision blurred white-hot. You could hear yourself crying out somewhere far away.
And through all of it, you heard Leon's voice. "You're okay."
Another surge of agony ripped through you.
"C'mon, sweetheart."
Your hands strained uselessly against the restraints.
"It's almost over."
The parasite shrieked inside your head. Then suddenly, horribly, wonderfully... Silence. Its absence nearly hurt more. The machine powered down slowly. Your body went limp instantly afterward, trembling violently from exhaustion.
"Easy," Leon said quickly.
Strong hands caught you before you could fall off the platform entirely. For a second, all you could do was breathe. No whispers. No pressure behind your eyes. No foreign thing twisting your thoughts into knots.
"It's gone," you whispered hoarsely.
Ashley laughed somewhere nearby, sounding half on the verge of tears herself. Leon didn't answer right away. You looked up just in time to catch the expression on his face. More relief. Pure, overwhelming relief. Like he'd been holding his breath this entire time.
His forehead dipped briefly against yours before he seemed to realize he was doing it. "You scared the hell outta me," he murmured.
The confession slipped out so quietly it almost sounded accidental.
Your chest tightened painfully. "I'm sorry, Lee."
His brows pulled together immediately. "Don't do that."
"What?"
"Apologizing."
His hand rose to your face again automatically, thumb brushing beneath your eye where tears had dried against your skin.
"You fought it," he said softly. "I know you did."
"Your turn." Ashley pointed at Leon.
You squeezed his arm before he lay down on the table. He took a few deep breaths before the machine did its job. Leon bit back a yell for fear of startling you and Ashley. When it was over, he sat up and looked between you.
"Let's get the hell outta here."
The escape from the island blurred together afterward in flashes of chaos. Collapsing walkways. Smoke choking the air. The roar of distant explosions shook the cliffs beneath your feet, while Leon kept all three of you moving forward through sheer stubbornness alone.
By the time you finally reached the shoreline, dawn had started bleeding slowly across the horizon. The sky over the water glowed soft blue and pale gold, the first real sunlight any of you had seen in what felt like years.
Ashley collapsed into the boat first with a groan. "I am never coming to Europe again."
Leon snorted quietly as he helped you in after her. The engine sputtered to life beneath his hands. Then the island began collapsing behind you for real. Fire climbed into the morning sky in massive waves while the distant facility crumbled inward piece by piece, swallowed by smoke and ocean spray. Nobody spoke for a while. There wasn't anything left to say.
The cold wind coming off the water tangled through Leon's hair while he guided the boat forward across the open sea. Exhaustion sat heavily across his features now that adrenaline was finally fading. Still, every few seconds, his eyes drifted toward you. Checking you out. Making sure you were still there with him.
Eventually, Ashley fell asleep curled against the side of the boat, worn out beyond consciousness. The engine hummed steadily beneath the silence afterward. You shifted slightly closer to Leon without really thinking about it. His gaze flickered toward you immediately.
"You okay?"
You smiled faintly despite yourself. "You ask that a lot."
"Pretty sure that's in both job descriptions somewhere," he murmured.
You smiled faintly. "Yeah?"
A small, crooked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Federal agent and boyfriend."
The tiny joke sounded rough around the edges from everything you'd just been through. There was another long stretch where neither of you spoke. Then Leon finally exhaled quietly and leaned back in his seat, eyes drifting toward the horizon.
The sunrise painted gold across the ocean around you. It was peaceful, almost impossible after everything that had happened just hours before. He looked handsome... the light hit his face so beautifully.
"You know," he said softly, "when you pointed that gun at me..."
Your stomach twisted instantly.
Leon noticed and shook his head before you could say anything. "I wasn't scared of you."
The words settled heavily into the space between you. "I knew you were fighting it."
Emotion clogged painfully in your throat. "You could've died. I could've... I could've killed you."
"Yeah." A tired little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Wouldn't be my first bad day."
You let out a weak laugh that turned suspiciously emotional halfway through. Leon's expression softened immediately. Then, very gently, he reached over, took your hand, and pulled it to his mouth. Just a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, full of warmth. His thumb brushed slowly across your knuckles while the boat carried all three of you farther away from the nightmare behind you.
Safe. Finally safe. Leon looked at you for a long, quiet moment beneath the growing morning light. Then he smiled. Small. Real. And devastating enough to make your chest ache.
"Told you we'd make it," he murmured.
-
Thanks for reading! My requests are open! I'd love to hear from you.
a/n: i know i promised blurred lines pt2 (it's coming) but i just loveee the snowed in trope. also leon's biceps - i love his biceps <3
also on ao3!
Getting snowed in wasn't exactly on your bucket list.
It’d been a mistake, your best friend had said, her voice anxious and apologetic on the phone as she’d tried to make up for the fact that she’d left you stranded here, in the middle of nowhere in a cabin that she had booked. You were only meant to stay here over the week of Christmas and fly back the next, but she’d conveniently forgotten to book tickets for both you and Leon. It’d been too late by then, a vicious snow storm rolling in and ruining all your chances of trying to leave.
You’d stared out the windows for a concerning amount of time, mourning the loss of your upcoming paychecks and not being able to sleep in your own bed. Outside, the snow was packed in tight and you’d been half-tempted to just grab the snow shovel and clear a path for yourself, but the howling wind coupled with the freezing temperature didn’t seem to agree with your plans. The only thing saving you from this woeful situation was the generator that was still up and running.
The federal agent currently lounging on the couch wasn’t helping either. You’d known Leon since you were children, mostly seeing him around the house when you’d come over to play with your best friend. He had kept to himself all those years ago, shooting you fleeting glances and berating you when you’d gotten too loud playing.
Boredom makes your temples throb and the thought of reading through another book makes you feel nauseous, so you settle on approaching Leon, flopping down on the other end with a heavy sigh.
“Hey,” you say, your feet nudging his thigh, “can’t you call up one of your buddies and have ‘em pick us up?”
“That’s not how it works,” Leon sighs, his eyes flitting down to stare irritatedly at your fluffy sock covered feet.
“What good is being a federal agent then?” you drawl, head tipping back over the armrest.
Leon rolls his eyes, shoving your feet away. You grumble, tucking your feet back under you before scooting forward to peer at whatever work on his laptop screen.
“Classified,” Leon says shortly, turning the screen away from you.
“Seriously, Leon?” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s not like I’m going to leak government secrets to a foreign enemy.”
“You might ,” Leon grits out, sending you a glare as you try to twist your body to take another look.
“Maybe I should be flattered that you think me capable of treason.”
Leon snorts, his eyes glancing over towards you again. “You wouldn’t last a day in the field, dork. Most likely end up getting yourself killed, or maybe even blown up.”
You glare at him, shifting again, making sure to dig your feet into his thigh a little harder as you roll over onto your side on the couch. Leon lets out a low hiss, growing irritated with your petulant behavior. He doesn’t shove your feet away like before so you settle on staying in that position, eyes slipping shut. A tiny sprig of hope unfurls inside of you; maybe if you tried hard enough, you’d be able to sleep the entire snowstorm away.
The weather doesn’t seem to let up, the wind howling outside, a chill beginning to creep into the cabin. You huff out an exasperated breath, eyes peeking open to sneak a glance at Leon. He looks engrossed in whatever he’s doing, fingers tapping against the keyboard, his brows drawn together.
Perhaps you’d struck out, getting stuck here with Leon. Sure, the federal agent stuff was mildly interesting, but he was more like a silent, grumpy lump. It sort of helped that he had a nice face, even if just to stare at.
“‘m cold,” you mumble, sock-clad toes trying to worm under his thighs, seeking out his warmth.
“Stop complaining,” Leon grouses, nudging your legs away with his hand.
“You’re so mean,” you shoot back, eyes narrowing. “Is it because you got stuck with a desk job?”
Leon glares at you, his touch growing rougher as he grabs your ankle and throws your leg away from him. A yelp escapes you, body bending awkwardly before you straighten yourself up, curling up away from him.
“I’m a field agent,” Leon hisses, snapping his laptop shut.
You shoot him an unimpressed look, eyes flitting over him. “I don’t see a gun.”
“Yeah and it’s a good thing I didn’t bring it, because I would shoot you if I had the chance.”
A sharp scoff leaves you, arms crossing over your chest as you stand up. “You’re such a piece of sh-”
A loud screeching noise cuts you off, your brows furrowing as you glance towards the direction the sound was coming from. It doesn’t take long to figure out what’s happened when the lights in the cabin go out after a moment, the interior lit up by the flickering embers of the hearth.
“Great,” Leon murmurs, standing up and walking towards the large windows, his eyes landing on the generator, “it’s probably frozen.”
You trail after him, a frown pulling at your lips as you stare out at the snowy tundra surrounding you in every direction.
“Is there no way to fix it?” you ask, fingers pressing up against the window.
“Maybe if we got rid of the snow,” Leon sighs, his hand running through his hair, “but the cold would probably just make it freeze up again.”
“Time to get shovelling,” you murmur, peering up at Leon.
Leon’s gaze flicks towards you, his lips thinning. “I’m not going out there.”
“What?” you ask snappily, irritation prickling across your skin, “why not?”
“Because I’ll freeze to death,” he retorts, “didn’t you watch the weather report?”
You stare at him, eye twitching at his refusal. At this rate, both of you would freeze to death if you weren’t able to get the generator up and running. You didn’t particularly trust the insulation either, although there was enough wood stocked in the spare room to maybe get you through the rest of the nights here.
“So what are you suggesting?” you ask, “that I go out and do it?”
“If you’re desperate enough,” he mutters under his breath.
“You’re the man!” you protest. “Shouldn’t you like protect me or something?”
Leon scoffs, his arms crossing over his chest as he stares down at you derisively. “You’re on your own, pipsqueak. Each man for themselves.”
“Oh, fuck you,” you snarl, stomping over to the door and yanking a jacket off of its hook. You shrug it on angrily, zipping it up tight before wrapping a scarf around your neck. “You’re pathetic, Leon!”
You grab the snow shovel, moving to open the door, only for it to not budge. There’s a moment of silence and you don’t dare look back at Leon. Setting the snow shovel down, you tug at the door handle, yanking hard.
“Please open,” you whisper, trying to wrench the door open, “please.”
By the time you’re done grumbling and yanking, the door’s only response is a pitiful groan, failing to give way at all, completely and utterly frozen shut.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you mutter, glancing at the hinges of the door.
“Frozen in,” Leon drawls, stepping up behind you, “who would’ve thought? You know, you looked pretty pathetic trying to open it up.”
You turn around to face him, biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from spewing a slew of curses at him. Your best friend would pay dearly for this debacle. Pushing past Leon, you stride purposefully into the room you were staying in, pulling free the sheets before managing to haul the mattress off of the bed frame.
Leon watches with raised brows as you lug the mattress across the floor. You dump it onto the space just in front of the fireplace, brushing your hair out of your face before disappearing into your room again to gather the sheets and blankets.
“At least you’re resourceful?” Leon offers, following suit as he adds his mattress next to yours soon after.
The absence of heat becomes all the more apparent as the night creeps in, your body shivering and teeth chattering every now and then despite the layers you’re wearing. You and Leon settle on soup for dinner, placing the cans near the fireplace to heat them up.
“Maybe we’ll just freeze to death,” you sigh, tugging the blanket draped around your shoulders a little tighter.
Leon hums, glancing over at you. “Maybe.”
You roll your eyes at his short response, padding through the cabin and into the dark bathroom. No generator meant no lights and you weren’t willing to risk using your phone or the flashlights lest the battery ran out.
“Ouch,” you grumble when your hip hits the side of the sink, your eyes squinting in an attempt to adjust to the dark.
You’re too busy rubbing your hip to notice the dark shadow stepping into the bathroom. There’s an arm landing on your waist and you shriek, hand flying out to smack whoever it is.
“Careful,” Leon groans when he feels you grab at his face, feeling around blindly.
“What are you doing?” you hiss, pushing at his chest.
“Keeping you company,” he shoots back, “not like there’s anything for me to do other than stare at the fire.”
“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” you say, managing to turn the tap on. The water is entirely too cold, but thankfully not yet frozen. You hunch over, splashing some onto your face.
“Funny,” Leon replies drily, his hand slipping lower to hold your hip as you bend over.
Your breath hitches at the action and you hope Leon doesn’t notice, especially with the way you tremble when his hand smooths over your waist absentmindedly. Leon’s touching doesn’t seem to let up and you turn around in his arms, fingers prodding into his chest.
“Stop touching me, you creep.”
Leon lets out a heavy sigh, his hands falling away from you. You manage to bundle out of the bathroom, finding his eyes in the dim lighting. He stares down at you, and you tilt your head in question.
“Nothing,” he huffs out, shoving your face away with his hand.
You grumble, swatting his hand away, padding over to your makeshift bed near the fireplace. Despite the warmth of the fire, you still shiver, and snuggling in under the heap of blankets.
Leon’s footfalls are quiet as he makes his way over, settling down on his own mattress. Silence passes over you both until a sneeze tickles at your nose, making your eyes water.
“Are you still cold?” Leon asks quietly.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” you mumble back, curling up your toes in your socks, trying to bury yourself deeper under the blankets.
You miss the way Leon rolls his eyes, a squeak leaving you when you feel strong arms looping around your waist, tugging you across onto Leon’s mattress. His chest is warm against your back, the layers of blankets growing with the two of you now pressed together.
“Let- let go of me,” you grouse, trying to unlatch his arms from around you.
“No can do, pipsqueak,” he replies, keeping you close, “my sister will kill me if anything happens to you. Besides, I know you gotta little thing for me.”
“I do not have a thing for you,” you scoff, your denial sharp. You squirm in his arms, managing to roll onto your other side to face him. “That would be gross, Leon.”
“Yeah?” Leon murmurs, his eyes drifting across your face, “you didn’t think it was gross when you told my sister you’d like to sit on my face.”
You sputter, embarrassment making your cheeks go hot. Suddenly, the chill of the snowstorm seems to fade, replaced by a heat that seems unbearable, Leon’s skin warm against yours.
“I- I did not say that!” you protest, trying to squirm out of his arms again but to no avail.
“I overheard you,” he sighs, rolling his eyes when you try to swat at his face.
“Well, fine,” you admit begrudgingly, stopping your struggling. “But you aren’t special . I could name five other guys off the top of my head that I’d enjoy.”
“Ouch,” Leon replies, his eyes boring into yours. “‘m wounded, pipsqueak.”
You send him a glare before snuggling closer, your face shoving into his chest. Leon lets out a rough laugh, his grip on you loosening. Silence passes over you and the warmth settles down to something more cozy, making your eyes droop shut.
“Could be fun.”
“What?” you mumble sleepily.
“Could be fun if you sat on my face.”
You peek up at him, taken aback. “Have you lost your mind, Leon?”
His lips purse as he considers your words, shrugging his shoulders lazily. “Gotta kill the time somehow,” he yawns.
“‘m not sleeping with you, jerk,” you reply, trying to ignore the fact that Leon, grumpy federal agent Leon , was offering to eat you out.
He sighs, muttering something incoherent that you can barely pick up on. It doesn’t help that Leon’s managed to ruin your sleep, the image of Leon’s head between your thighs popping into your mind. Could be fun .
Leon’s already staring at you when you look back up at him, his brows raising when you play with the strings of his hoodie, twirling and twisting them.
“Do you want to?” you ask.
He considers your words, running his hand through his hair. “I could use the practice. It’s been a while.”
“I’m not a training dummy, Leon,” you retort, but Leon’s already moving, the blankets around you shifting as he pulls them off, grabbing at your sock and pajama pants. “You said it could be fun .”
“Practice can be fun,” he replies drily, pulling your pajama pants off.
You shiver when the cold hits your skin, goosebumps erupting all over immediately. Leon’s hands are warm when he slides them over your legs, his head lowering to take a look at your panties.
“Cute,” Leon murmurs, finger pulling at the band before letting the fabric snap back against your skin.
“H- hey!” you stop him when he tries to pull them off, eyes narrowing. “You should build up to it, not just go right in.”
Leon rolls his eyes and you huff out an annoyed breath, feet pressing up against his chest.
“C’mon, Leon,” you say, voice morphing into a taunt, “work for it.”
“You always like this?” he shoots back, glaring down at you.
You give him a snarky smile, nudging your feet against his chest again. Leon shakes his head, grabbing one of your feet. You watch as he dips his head, his lips landing on your ankle. Leon’s lips are surprisingly gentle, his eyes flitting to yours as he trails his lips up your leg, leaving hot kisses in his wake.
A soft sigh escapes you, the tenseness fading as you relax, letting your eyes slide shut as he squeezes your thighs and kisses the side of your knee.
“Good?” he asks, his voice low.
“Mhm,” you nod, hips reacting to his ministrations as he spreads you apart.
Leon’s breath is hot against your skin, his tongue darting out to lick teasingly as he covers your inner thighs with kisses. You peer down at him, reaching out to place your hand in his hair, back arching slightly when he noses into your panties.
You bite your lip when he licks over your panties, feeling wetness beginning to gather between your thighs. His eyes flutter shut when your nails scratch at his scalp lightly, lapping at your clothed pussy until the fabric is wet with his spit and your slick, clinging to your folds.
“That’s cute,” you murmur, “thought this was just practice?”
He huffs out a breath and you smile, letting him lap at your clothed cunt until he’s satisfied. Leon kisses your hip when he rises up, fingers trailing across your thighs before drifting over your panties again, rubbing the drenched material absentmindedly.
“‘s nice,” he murmurs, reaching up to tug your panties flush against your pussy, his eyes latched onto the way it outlines your puffy folds. Leon’s fingers reach down, rubbing over your cunt, pressing your panties against you harder. He watches the way you bite back the noises that threaten to escape, his lips turning into a frown. “Don’t do that.”
You shake your head stubbornly and he glares at you, tugging your lip out from the confines of your teeth.
“Guess I’ll just have to wear you out, hm?”
Leon’s fingers are greedy as he pulls your panties free, throwing them somewhere over his shoulder.
“Kiss first,” you say quietly when he thumbs apart your sticky folds, “then lick.”
“I know how to do this,” he grunts, gripping your thighs harder to pull you closer to him.
“Well then show me- oh fuck -”
Your breath hitches when he kisses your clit, the bud swollen and aching from before when he’d licked over your panties and prodded his tongue against you. Leon grins against your cunt, his tongue lolling out to lick a stripe over your wet pussy, delving deep between your folds to drink down your slick.
“Taste good, pipsqueak,” he rasps, licking over your cunt, lapping over and over again until your thighs twitch and your hand tightens in his hair, eyes squeezing shut.
“Don’t- ngh- don’t call me that! ”
“What should I call you then?” Leon asks, pulling back to spit on your cunt, his fingers spreading over your clit and pussy, rubbing it in, his thumb drawing tight circles against your clit. “Hm? Baby, is that what you want? Maybe sweetheart? Darlin’, gorgeous, my good girl? All of ‘em?”
You can only manage out a moan, hips rolling up to meet his mouth as the pet-names ring in your mind, a haze of lust fogging over your mind. Leon lets out a hoarse laugh, prodding a finger against your fluttering hole, easing it in.
A whimper leaves you, cunt clenching around it as he nips at your thigh, tilting his head to suck your clit into his mouth. You shudder as he suckles, tongue flicking against the throbbing bud, teeth grazing across gently. He presses another finger into your cunt, a deep groan leaving him as you clench around his fingers harder, hips jumping when he sucks at your clit with renewed fervor.
“Such a whiny baby,” Leon muses when he hears the little whimpers and whines that leave you, his hand clamping over your hip to keep you in place as you squirm. “Don’t worry sweetheart, ‘m gonna take care of you.”
You mewl, hips rolling again needily as he buries his face into your cunt, slurping and sucking noisily. It makes your cheeks flush with embarrassment, despite the fact no one can hear you for miles.
“Thought- ah- thought you were gonna let me sit on your face,” you mumble out, body shuddering when Leon curls his fingers, beginning to thrust them in and out of you.
“Is that what you want?”
You peer down at him before managing out a nod. Leon hums, taking a measured suck of your clit and pressing a kiss to it. He pats your hip, shifting to lay on his back in response. It’s nice of him, you think, when he offers you his hand, pulling you closer as you swing your leg over his face as you peer down at him.
“Sit on my face, baby,” he murmurs, kissing the inside of your thigh.
You flush lightly, reaching out to brush the hair that’s fallen across his forehead, running your fingers through the soft strands. Leon’s eyes slip shut and you smile, trailing your fingers over the curve of his cheek before shuffling forward, lowering yourself onto his awaiting mouth.
“Oh,” you breathe out, hands landing on the sheets above his head, gripping them tightly.
Leon groans, hands grasping at your thighs, squeezing the fat of them as he urges you to rock your hips across his mouth. It’s almost too much, the swirl of his tongue, the intensity of his gaze as he looks up at you.
“I like it when you shut up,” you murmur, giving him a smile as you drag your cunt over the length of his tongue. “So much more tolerable this way, Leon.”
Leon lets out an indignant sound and you yelp, jolting when his hand comes down on your ass, your flesh stinging. What an asshole. You glare down at him, gripping his hair harder, pulling at the strands, enough to make it hurt .
He grunts, eyes squeezing shut in pain before he grasps your hips, pulling you down flush against his mouth. Your mouth opens, a strangled moan sounding as you feel his tongue pressing into your cunt.
“N- ngh- no,” you begin to say but Leon ignores you, fucking into your cunt with your tongue.
You can hardly see straight, back arching, eyes squeezing shut.
“Brat,” Leon snarls, slapping your ass again, “so fucking bratty, sweetheart.”
“‘m not,” you whine, squirming atop his mouth, moaning again when he sucks his clit into your mouth, tongue flicking and swirling until you’re seeing stars. “‘m not , Leon.”
“You are,” he snaps lowly, “bratty and annoying and a fucking pain the ass.” He licks over your cunt again and again. Your thighs twitch, chest heaving as you suck in short, sharp breaths, hunching over when his teeth nip at your folds carefully.
It’s the worst, or perhaps the best because it has the bridge of his nose pressing up against your clit in a way that you’ve never felt before. You rock your hips, gasping, tears pricking at your eyes when he lands another heavy slap to your ass.
“Cum, baby,” Leon hisses, his voice a low rasp, “cum on my fucking mouth. Can you do that, hm? Be a good girl for once and cum .”
You shudder, a sharp cry tearing its way out of your throat as you cum, twitching violently. There’s sweat covering your body, your eyes squeezing shut as you cum. Leon laps at your slick, drinking it down like a man starved. He squeezes your thighs and you tremble, managing to squirm off of him, slumping down over the blankets, panting as your cunt throbs.
Silence passes over the cabin, save for the soothing crackle of the fire. Leon clears his throat, his arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer into the warmth of his chest.
“Hey,” he murmurs, “you- uh, you good?”
“Shut up, Leon,” you grouse, still reeling from the fact that Leon had given you the best orgasm of your life.
“I didn’t mean it,” he offers quietly, calloused palm rubbing up and down your side, over the dip of your waist and curve of your hip. “Well, not all of it.”
You shift, turning to face him. Leon’s hair looks like a mess and you figure you don’t look that much better, given all the squirming and writhing you were doing earlier.
“Yeah?” you murmur, “well, I mean it when I say you’re a dick.”
“Fine,” Leon muses, a smile pulling at his lips, “I’ll let you h-”
His words are cut off when you shuffle closer, grabbing his hoodie. Your nose brushes against his gently, eyes fluttering shut as you press your lips against his tentatively. Leon sighs into your mouth, his hand squeezing at your ass, his lips working against yours.
You wrap your arms around his neck, letting out a soft noise when he licks into your mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. He can’t help himself as he grabs at you, his hands sliding up under your thick sweater to grasp at your tits. You whimper when he pinches your nipples, rolling them between his fingers before tugging gently.
“Gonna let me fuck you, sweetheart?” Leon whispers against your lips.
You nod, kissing him again, pulling at his hoodie. He sits up, tugging it up over his head before reaching for you, pulling your sweater off of you. Leon swallows when he sees your breasts, his hands reaching for them greedily.
“C’mere, baby,” he murmurs, dipping his head to suck a nipple into his mouth. You bite your lip, hands cupping the back of his head as Leon nuzzles into your breasts, mouthing at the sides of them, landing soft kisses across your sternum and up your throat before finding your lips again.
Your hands are just as greedy as his mouth, reaching down to palm him through his sweats, the bulge looking inviting. Leon moans into your mouth and you smile, pecking his lips as you dip your hand inside, curling your hand around his cock.
It’s thick and heavy when Leon pulls down his sweatpants, his cock bobbing. You lick your hips, straddling his thigh, stroking his cock slowly. Leon’s eyes are squeezed shut, his head tipped back as his hips buck up into your hand.
“‘s big, Leon,” you murmur, watching with rapt attention as thick globs of pre-cum bead at the tip of his cock.
“Y- yeah?” he whimpers, thighs twitching, “‘s all yours, sweetheart.”
You hum happily, meeting his eyes before opening your mouth, letting spit drop down from your tongue onto his cock. Leon groans brokenly, watching as you jerk him off, cum and spit mixing together.
“Enough,” he grunts when you swipe your thumb over the tip of his cock.
You pout, shuffling back, enough to get your mouth around the head of his cock. Leon’s grumbling when your tongue swirls around his cock, his hand fisting into your hair to pull you off roughly.
“I said enough ,” Leon murmurs, moving you until you're on your hands and knees.
“Thought you said your cock was mine ,” you drawl, wiggling your hips, ass up in the air for him. “You’re being- oh -”
A dazed sigh leaves you when you feel Leon’s mouth on you again, his thumbs spreading you apart greedily, tongue licking over your cunt. You turn your head, hazy eyes finding Leon’s hand wrapped around his cock, his grip tight as he strokes himself.
“Want your cock in me,” you mumble, drooling into the pillows when he kisses your clit.
“Greedy,” he says, rubbing his cock against your cunt for a few seconds before he presses his cock in.
You gasp, eyes squeezing shut, hips shifting away. Leon clicks his tongue, pulling your hips back, forcing you to take his cock. It’s girthy and thick, a mewl leaving you as you feel his cock stretch you out.
“That’s it,” Leon whispers, hand smoothing over the length of your back, “take my cock, sweetheart.”
You babble incoherently, leaning back into him when he drapes himself over your back, his lips on your shoulder. Leon draws his hips back before thrusting them forward, making you moan. He smiles against your skin, kissing the back of your neck before straightening out.
“Look at that,” Leon murmurs, letting out a low whistle as he spreads your wider, his fingers stroking the edges of your stretched out pussy. “Greedy cunt’s just swallowing up my cock, baby.”
“More,” you whine, starting to rock your hips back to meet his thrusts.
Leon groans, feeling your ass smack back against his hips. He grips you harder, fingers bruising against your hips, pushing down on your back to make you arch. The action has you squeaking when you lose your balance, toppling forward, cheek squishing into the pillows.
The clap of his hips against yours is embarrassing, the cold around you forgotten in the dim cabin, the thickness of his cock replacing any worries you had.
“So fucking good,” Leon snarls, tugging you up again. “Perfect fucking pussy, baby.”
You cry out when he fucks up into you, his chest flush against your back, his arm winding around your neck. Leon squeezes and you slur out a moan, head turning to sink your teeth into his bicep.
He hisses at the flare of pain, squeezing harder. Your body jolts with every thrust, eyes rolling back in delirium at how good the feel of his cock is combined with the squeeze of his arm around your neck.
“Leon!” you whimper, tipping your head back, kissing his jaw sloppily.
“‘m right here, sweetheart,” he groans, mouth slotting over yours messily.
It’s all spit and sloppy kisses, both of your bodies trembling as Leon pounds into you without abandon. The squeeze of his bicep has your vision blurring, nails digging into his thigh. Your cunt clenches and Leon whines, pressing you back down to fuck his cock into you, hand coming down on your ass hard .
“Gonna make me cum,” he rasps, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles around the swollen bud.
“Please,” you mewl, hugging the pillow to your chest, “please, Leon- wanna cum, wanna cum please .”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he chants breathlessly, kissing your cheek, “wait, where- fuck, baby- where do you want it?”
“In- nghhh- in me,” you beg, hooking your foot awkwardly around his leg, trying to keep him from pulling out. “Cum inside , Leon. Want your cum.”
“Shit,” Leon groans, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, his hips humping into your cunt as he loses himself in the tight clench of your pussy. “Sweetheart, you gotta let go.”
“N- nooo,” you whine, shaking your head, wiggling your hips back so his cock presses into you deeper.
He moans, the sound deep and guttural and it has you moaning too, cunt clenching around him like a vice.
“Pussy’s not letting me go,” Leon snarls, cock driving into you deeper as he slows his thrusts, opting to roll his hips instead. “Fine, ‘m gonna give you my cum, sweetheart. Gonna fill this greedy, little pussy up.”
You slur out a response, face shoved into the pillow, writhing as Leon rubs your clit a few more times. He curses when you squeeze around him again, slumping over you as his cock twitches, hot cum spilling into you. You bite your lip, dazed and sated as you cum with him, pussy fluttering around his cock.
Leon kisses your neck, panting as he lets his forehead rest against your back. His softening cock slips out of you and Leon turns you on your back, dipping his head to kiss you deeply. You wrap your arm around his neck loosely, sighing contentedly as he massages your hips and thighs.
“I’ll be back,” he whispers against your lips.
You nod, laying there limp. Leon returns with a dry cloth, his lips lingering on your stomach and hip as he cleans you up.
He tugs you into his chest after, kissing your cheek and letting you burrow into his warmth. Your fingers slide through his hair, playing with the soft strands absentmindedly as he smooths his hand over your side, dropping a kiss to your head every now and then.
“So was that good for practice?” you ask, feigning innocence.
Leon huffs out a laugh, his hand squeezing at your waist. “Yeah,” he says, thumb stroking over the curve of your hip, “real good, baby.”
You hum happily, smiling when he tilts his head, kissing you again.
“Does this mean I can see your work?”
“No,” he replies drily, smiling against your cheek. “Still classified, sweetheart.”
“Well, what can I do to un -classify it?”
Leon grins. “I can think of a few things.”
-
“Bring me any souvenirs?” you call out, leaning against the side of your car.
Leon rolls his eyes, dumping his duffle bag onto the ground, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. You laugh, letting him nuzzle into the crook of your neck, humming in amusement when he grumbles.
“You’re meant to say you missed me.”
You did miss Leon. After the snowstorm had receded, you’d still been unable to keep your hands off one another, even when you’d returned home. He’d been called on some mission some months later, and now here you were, picking him up.
“Just a smidge,” you murmur, biting your lip when he noses into your cheek, pressing soft kisses across your skin.
You turn your head, cupping his cheeks to pull him closer, kissing him deeply. Leon smiles against your lips, holding you tighter, arms squeezing around you. “Maybe a lot,” you whisper, landing another kiss to his lips.
“I missed you too,” he sighs, tucking your hair behind your ear and pressing a kiss to your forehead. Leon’s lips drift, dragging down over the side of your cheek and to your jaw. He presses you against the cool metal of your car, one of his hands drifting under your skirt.
“Know that pretty pussy missed me too,” he murmurs, “‘s why you sent me all those videos, right?”
“Shut up, Leon.”
“Oh c’mon,” Leon drawls, pulling you back into his chest when you try opening the door to your car, “I liked ‘em, sweetheart.”
He kisses your neck heatedly, a soft whine making its way out of your throat when he squeezes the fat of your ass and pats it affectionately.
“We should go home,” you whisper breathily.
“Yeah,” Leon murmurs, his hand forward to cup your pussy, stroking it through your panties. “Car’s right here though.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, muttering a curse when Leon speaks again.
༘♡ ·˚↳ warnings and summary: fluff, spooning, cuddle, cockwarming. your husband came back home seeking comfort.
༘♡ ·˚↳ w/c: 1157.
The city was quiet. The lights in your room were off, as were those in your house. Everything was plunged into darkness and silence. Too quiet. Although you were getting more and more used to it —or at least that’s what you thought— you still noticed his absence.
For many people, Leon S. Kennedy was the best agent in the whole Division of Security Operations. For your eyes he was simply Leon, the man you loved most in the world. And for the law... Well, for the law he was your husband. For a couple of years now. But since his job wasn’t conventionally “normal” no one knew it. In fact, most people didn’t even suspect it: maybe that’s why they kept sending him to those dangerous missions. And now he wasn’t home because he was risking his life, probably. You didn’t knew when your beloved husband would return. He hasn't replied to your messages in the whole day and you were scared.
You sighed before lying down on your side of the bed, looking nostalgically at the side where your husband traditionally sleeps. You even traced circles on it, imagining that it was him and not just a boring sheet. You settled on your side and closed your eyes, falling asleep in minutes. Of course, dreaming of sleeping in those arms that had held you protectively more times than you could count.
The nights without Leon were a nightmare. You were susceptible to every little move or sound, making impossible to get eight consecutive hours of sleep.
You woke up a few hours later, when a torrential rain began to fall. You grabbed your phone. You noticed two things. First —and most important—: no new messages from your husband. Two: it was two a.m. You needed to sleep, but you were nervous, even though the reason remained unknown. As a reflex of your nerves, you touched your hair. You settled in to go back to sleep but you heard a thunder. Your body reacted in surprise by the sudden sounds. And you heard the same noise again. And again. And again. Soon you realized it wasn’t thunders, it was the sound of the doorknob turning. Was someone breaking into your house to rob you? Your heart was pounding but you didn’t move. You heard the main door open, and instantly you recognized those footsteps. Your heart was still beating fast, for a different reason now.
You stayed lying down. He opened the bedroom door. “Hello gorgeous… oh, you’re sleeping…” you heard him almost whisper, with that tone that melted you. He took off his shirt and pants, lying down beside you. You turned around to surprise him with the fact that you weren’t asleep, though he probably knew it. “Leon, you’re early…” you murmured looking into his eyes. He nodded slightly, his eyes neutral for the moment, his lips straight. Hiding emotions. “A lot of things happened… but I don’t want to talk about it now.” And his eyes showed you a glimpse of sadness and worry. You gave him a look full of love and warmth, and he hugged you from behind instantly. His big arms wrapped around your waist, his face pressed against your shoulder. “I missed you so much, sweetheart” he whispered close to your ear. In a matter of seconds he was spooning you, pulling your flush against him, legs tangled.
You knew him too well: when he was like this, it was because he went through a bad time on his missions and something very serious happened. It was his way of punishing himself: Leon blamed himself for everything and he searched comfort in your arms.
The rain kept falling but the only thing you could hear was his breath hitting the back of your neck as his chest did a slight pressure against your spine. He remained silent for a few minutes enjoying the closeness, calming himself down. Suddenly, he began to spread kisses over your shoulders and neck. They weren’t rushed or heated, but he couldn’t deny it: he needed you closer and closer. “Love of my life” oh, that tone. That dangerous tone. He always used it when he needed something, and he knew you couldn’t say no. Never to him. He was your weakness, after all. “I missed you, I miss you so much…” His hands went to your hips, pressing you against him more and more, playing with the waistband of your pants. “God- love, please. I missed you so- I need… fuck, can it put it inside? I won’t move- I promise. Please, I’m begging. I miss you so…” he purred in your ear. “Wanna sleep like that?” you asked with a sleepy voice, touching his fingers on your hips. “Yes, please. Won’t move- I promise gorgeous, please.”
You took his hands, helping them to pull your pants down slightly until it reached your thighs. His hands left his body just to set himself free, guiding it against your entrance, teasing it with the tip of his cock. When you were wet enough —so it wouldn’t hurt either of you—, he slowly pushed inside. “Hah…” he exhaled, his face hiding in your shoulder. “It’s all inside, love” he told you in a very low, you didn’t need a caution: you could already feel it filling you. “You’re so warm” he spoke again, this time, his lips pressed to your ear. He kept his promise: No thrusting. No movement beyond the tiny, involuntary twitch of settling deeper, stretching you. You moved your hips just to find comfort, adjusting a little.
“You’re so beautiful” Leon groaned quietly, burying his face in her hair, inhaling your scent. “So mine” his arm tightened around your waist, stubborn with the idea of being impossibly closer to you. The way he was mumbling and worshiping you with words… You could tell he was already pussydrunk. “You feel like home. Just for me. It wasn’t a good day but… f-fuck… I’m a lucky bastard…”
You closed your eyes enjoying the intimacy, feeling every inch of him. Leon’s hands traced small patterns on your waist, hip and stomach. Every so often he pressed a kiss in your neck, shoulder, in that spot behind your ear as he whispered sweet nothings again and again.
“I love you” he said, voice husky. “More than anything, you’re the love of my life, my home.” With a small smile you replied “I love you more. You know you can always find a safe place on me, Leon. You’re everything I want and I want everything with you.”
Outside your little loving bubble the rain kept falling, but that didn’t matter. Leon and you were at peace, your breaths synchronized in a perfect, warm and comfortable intimacy. In a matter of minutes, Leon’s breathing grew deeper, more relaxed, even if he stayed hard inside you. You drifted off with a little smile, feeling eternally in love with him.
☆ shy reader, both have a choking kink, smut, body piercings
☆ i had re9 leon in mind (literally, he's in my head sm i might give him some) and re4r leon cuz its kindaaa based on my headcanon, but can be any leon :3
when leon first met you, you were the definition of ¨inocence¨
calm, polite, shy. the way you talk, your voice never louder than others, leon noticed the two small beads across the tip of your tongue, he thought it was cute, discreet
maybe it was a generational thing, he’d always associated piercings with something sharper, a little more defiant.
yours didn’t feel like that. Not on you.
the way you dress, delicate; pretty in pink, girly-
skirts being the only thing he'd see you wear. how you took care of yourself, nails always done, makeup, your hair always perfect.
he even thought that him, being rough in every meaning of the word, would not be fit for you.
he'd been trying to charm you for months. when he first asked you for a date, which you accepted excitedly, he was taken back a little bit, he doesn’t know what you’re doing with someone like him. leon thought that you'd like cute dates so he'd take you there. small coffees, shopping, date next to the lake, cute picnics.
to leon you were almost like glass, his grip always loosened around you, like he was afraid of leaving marks just by holding you
so… when he finally had you under his hands.
when he finally got to see you like this...
when he took off your bra with one hand, he's skilled after all, what training does to a man. his eyes widen slightly.
nipples pierced... so fucking hot. he thought.
his eyes linger before looking at you, rising a brow and playful smile across his face.
¨... those are cute¨ his comment made you giggle, light pink color starting to show on your cheeks
a soft gasp lefts your lips when he starts toying around with one of them with his tongue.
your touch on his back was fragile, nothing compared to his grasp on yours hips. his thrusts were delicate, too delicate. if he fastens his pace he won't be able to stop.
then you say it.
¨choke me, leon¨
he really should have known better. that shy girl that wouldn't even kiss him on the first date and when he finally did ,after at least three, you got so flustered that you had to cover your face.
your voice was low and shy feeling the heat rising up to your cheeks.
leon leans back, sitting on his heels. his eyes were on you as you are still laying down in his bed.
it's not the first time he's done it. he's no stranger to it. he enjoys it. yet he barely gets to experience it. it's not uncommon but it's something he won't do without trust.
yet, out of all the people he has met, you are the last person who he thought would have such a kink.
he wont't lie it caught him off guard.
him, leon s kennedy, who has always considered himself ¨violent¨, was trying, by all means, to not bite you too hard or even kiss you too hard.
¨oh, sweetheart,¨ he breathes out ¨you're dangerous.¨ he admits.
he settles back over you.
you smirk at him. you bite your lower lip as you look at him, you grab his muscular arm and bring his hand around your neck.
fuck, this girl... leon thought.
leon leans down to catch your lips with his. there's nothing gentle about it, not anymore. he bites your lower lip making you moan against his mouth.
he squeezes his hand softly, leaving you a little bit breathless mid kiss
¨you like that, baby?¨leon's voice is now closer to your ear.
you nod rapidly as a soft whine escapes your mouth.
his hand releases that sweet tension over your neck, moving up to your cheek. his thumb gently stroking your pink lips. leon smirks playfully when you stick out your pierced tongue, as you wrap your lips around his finger, gently sucking in.
¨fuck-¨ he cuts himself. his mind going through way too many thoughts.
¨leon...¨ you whine out.
¨yeah?¨ his voice is heavy, echoing through the room
¨please, fuck me harder while you choke me¨ you plea, big doe innocent eyes.
you don't need to tell him twice. his hips start to move again, this time deeper, mercilessly. his hand is back around your neck gripping it harder this time making the veins of his forearm pop up even more.
¨you're full of surprises, aren't you?¨
a/n: leon enjoying choking is my roman empire. IM IN HEAAAAAT.
i hope you enjoyed!!! i`ve been gone a few days but im back yesss
Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, creampie...., Afab!Fem!Reader, P in V sex, Quickie,
His belt clinked through the low hum of music that filled the room from where you laid on the bed, book in hand as you devoured what he assumed was smut. He knew you. The quiet mouse that he had essentially adopted reading pure filth in his sheets. You were a picture perfect memory from where he left you. His shoes caked in blood and god knows what else sat by the front door – jacket half draped over the couch arm as he made his was to you.
His filthy little thing.
You were perfect as you smiled at him, legs wide enough for him to find his spot. He would have let you finish the chapter but know that you put the Polaroid of the both of you in place was enough to wordlessly tell him how much you loved him.
You fingers worked the knots in his thoughts away. Your nails lightly dragging along his scalp eating soft groans. You turned him into putty, melting into your hands as he unwinded from the week he's had. His cold hands touched your midriff, rubbing soft circles against the skin there. He melted, soothed himself to your scent.
"What were you reading?" He mumbled, his breath soothing the skin where his stubble scratched. "The usual genre,"
"filthy?"
"Did you need to ask?"
Leon laughed, a deep chuckle that had your toes circling. He raised to his elbows, placing a kiss against your lips. You felt him deepen it, his hand cupping your cheeks to draw you closer. To entice him to a release that would certainly let him forget about the work he did. He scrubbed his hands clean from anything that lingered before he left, only the cleanest ones would touch you. He couldn't taint this perfect skin like that.
Your hips lifted to meet him throught the blankets that draped over you. The book thudding to the floor as you both moved. A dance perfected by the years. Your sleep shorts pushed to the side as his fingers wondered to find the wetness that lingered there. Your own hands finding his hardness through the opened zipper of his pants.
It was always desperate the first round. A feral act of rememberence as he tried to earth himself. As if there was nothing he could do but sink himself into you when he returned. Your teeth grazed his neck, muscles tensing as he freed himself.
He exposed your sex with two hooked fingers against the fabric of the shorts. Your glistening lips waiting for the broad tip that kissed against them. Waiting for him to push the length you were so excited for inside you. You welcomed the first inches with a squeeze, a grunt from him followed your action. Neither of you spoke, words weren't needed in this connection. Your actions became greedy, heels digging in the soft mattress as you tried to lift your hips higher. Desperate to feel him fully sheathed inside you.
Leon felt his head empty as he pumped into you. Pulling himself out all the way just to slam back harder, his hand cupping your head to protect it from the headboard as he drived you up the bed. His nose buried in your hair taking in your fresh scent like he was some primal mate. He felt you ground him, getting lost in the pulses of your velet walls as the pleasure he offered you wracked through your body.
Your pussy quivered with your release as his balls soon emptied. The worrying thoughts and nightmares following as he collapsed against you once more. Your fingers working their way through his hair as his cock emptied itself inside you.
Neither of you spot in the connection, his softening cock pluging the warmth of his seed inside of you as he held you. It would be better the next round, you knew as much as his fingers teased your nipples from where they pebbled infront of him. It was only minutes until you felt him hardening inside you again, thumping awake inside your walls.
Until then it was peace, a comfort, silence as you thanked whomever that he returned.
