pasukiyo - Tumblr blog

[pasukiyo]

i woke up at 5 am and sat in line in the freezing cold for four hours yesterday morning for record store day 😆 and still didn’t get everything i wanted because the people that camped out overnight bought them all up

[pasukiyo]

another reblog i took way too long to respond to… BUT THANK YOU SO MUCH!!

TAKE YOU LIKE A DRUG

bodyguard!leon x f!popstar!reader word count; 1,576 warnings; smut, oral (f receiving) summary; he's tried time and time again to push you away, to make you understand that you don't know what it means to want him. but how can he resist the temptation when you come barreling into his hotel room in the late hours of the night?

 Three knocks against Leon’s hotel room door woke him. 

 With a grumble, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his knuckles digging the sleep away from his eyes. He blinked through the blurriness of his vision down at the phone resting on the nightstand, ‘2:30’ in big, bold white letters across the top of the screen. 

 Three more knocks on the door made him rise from the bed and pull a loose t-shirt over his head, muscles aching with each step he took. 

 Frustration laced his weary bones— for fuck’s sake, it was his night off. For just once, he’d like to get some real sleep.  

 The knocking began again and Leon swung open the door before the count could reach three. He blinked, his brow dipping as he took in the figure before him. Her name tumbled from his lips and it was as if his voice was what made her snap, surging forward into him, her lips sealing his in a kiss. 

 Leon nearly stumbled backwards when she threw herself on him, an arm wrapped around his neck and a hand cupping his cheek. He steadied himself with either of his hands on her hips, attempting to pull himself away but the desperation in her kiss dragged him right back in, as if the ocean’s waves had crashed over his head. 

 Leon had kissed her many times before, too many times to count. They’d kissed in secret, in many storage closets, in dressing rooms, behind many backs. They’d kissed in hotel rooms, rental homes, even in each other’s own bedrooms. They’d kissed slowly, they’d kissed hard, they’d taken their time, and they'd kissed until they had to force themselves away to make schedules on time. 

 She kissed him now with a desperation he’d never tasted, never felt from her before. Her kiss was mind-numbing, nearly enough to turn his brain to mush and make his knees feel weak. But the slick, oily voice somewhere in the back of his head reminded him that he couldn’t do this, that he knew this was wrong. The voice’s whispers infected his brain like a parasite and twisted like vines around his ears, its breath hot as it curled around his cheeks. 

 Leon peeled open his eyelids and pushed her away by the grip he had on her hips, either of their chests heaving. She blinked up at him, a furrow in her brow and a look so devastating in her eyes that he had to turn away, wiping her spit from his lips. 

 “I told you we can’t do this anymore,” Leon managed to say over his panting. 

 She shook her head, “I don’t care.”

 Leon, still with his back turned, closed his eyes, willing his heart to ease in his chest. This was the last thing he needed— temptation. Because that was all he saw whenever he looked at her. Temptation. A lust from deep within the pit of his belly for risk, a dark, twisted desire to corrupt her, to ruin her like he already was. There were many secrets he’d kept— from her, from others. Secrets he’d buried long ago and vowed he’d never let resurface— secrets he was too tempted to dig up from the grave he’d abandoned long ago the closer he let himself be drawn to her. 

 There was a whole life’s worth of baggage he knew he shouldn’t burden her with, knew she didn’t deserve to have to deal with. Leon Kennedy was wrong for her in every single sense— why couldn’t it just be simple to get her to understand that?

 Leon sighed her name again, “you should,” he shook his head. “You should also be asleep right now. You just played a two hour show and you have a photoshoot in seven—“

 “I don’t care, Leon.”

 His muscles tensed when her hand slithered around his elbow, casting a glare to the ground beneath their feet as she coiled like a snake around his body until she stood before him. She dipped her chin, leaning down until their eyes could meet. 

 “Why are you always depriving yourself?” She asked, her temper short and rising to the gleam in her eyes. “You always push me away but I know you better than you think, Leon.”

 Leon’s jaw clenched and his gaze sharpened, shaking his head. Her bottom lip quivered at the intensity of his stare but still, she wouldn’t relent, wouldn’t let go. 

 “You don’t know the first thing about me,” he muttered. “And trust me, if you did, you wouldn’t want me.”

 She huffed, pressing her lips together to tame her temper. “You don’t know that,” she shook her head and he scoffed, slipping his arm away from her grip. She followed when he turned to move away, like a leech in his skin he couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard he tried. “Will you stop walking away from me for one goddamn second and just listen to me?”

 Leon turned, towering over her very suddenly, eclipsing whatever little light still remained in the room. She nearly stumbled back when he hovered over her, her lips parting in a gasp when her back hit the wall. Even still, Leon leaned closer, sleep a distant memory on his bones. 

 “When will it get through your thick fucking skull that I’m not good for you?” He practically hissed with a venom she felt straight in the chest. She blinked, and he continued, “you don’t know what it means to want me. You don’t know what kind of baggage you’re asking for.”

 There was a lump at the base of her throat that visibly bobbed when she swallowed and what might have been mistaken for fear began to show for what it really was— curiosity, desire, lust. 

 “I think I can discern what’s good or bad for me on my own,” she murmured, “I don’t need you to make decisions for me.”

 Leon blinked— was it even possible to get this girl to realize she was making a mistake?

 She balled the front of his t-shirt in a fist and tugged him into her, their breaths two ghosts in a waltz, the tips of their noses nearly touching. 

 “When will that get through your thick fucking skull?” She asked in a whisper, gaze flickering down to his lips and back. Leon’s heart thundered in his chest, the oily voice growing louder, barking its warnings. But the longer they stared at one another, the fainter the voice seemed to be until it drowned altogether. 

 Leon’s breath shuddered when he sucked it in, “you’re making a mistake.”

 She leaned further in until their lips were a mere wisp away from each other, “I’ll think I’ll live.”

 Their lips became one again and this time, Leon had no intention of pulling away. His hands were on her hips, woven in her hair, hers on his face, on his shoulder. They kissed with a fervor neither had ever felt before, their kiss was electric, and with a simple spark, they were both set aflame. 

 Leon’s hands carried her to bed and caressed the soft stomach beneath her t-shirt, his fingers curling around the hem of her shorts and tugging until they, along with her underwear, were discarded in a pile on the floor. 

 There they were again, making the same mistake they made time and time again. Her hands were in the dark blonde hair atop his head, still messy with sleep and his arms were hooked around her thighs, face burrowed into the sopping cunt between her legs, breathing her in like a vapor. His tongue swirled around her clit at an agonizing pace, one that had her throwing her head back into the pillows, her back arching up off the mattress. 

 “Mmm…” she mewled, squirming where she laid. “Fffuck Leon.”

 Leon hummed against her aching bud, taking her in as if she were a drug, for that’s exactly what she was. 

 A drug— one he couldn’t get enough of. One he always pushed away from but still clawed his way back to over and over again. She was a beautiful vice tied with a ribbon of glamor and fame, the physical embodiment of everything Leon didn’t and would never deserve. She was something too grand, too perfect, too good for him. 

 Leon greedily lapped up everything she had to offer with his tongue to her center, staring up at her through heavy, hooded lids as she writhed and mewled his name. She sang for him like the pretty little songbird she was, his tongue’s ministrations her muse, the ink to the pen she used to write her lyrics. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if this moment would be turned into a song, music thousands of her fans would scream the lyrics to and he’d be the only one to understand it for what it truly meant. 

 “Fuck! More… Leon, please! Feels so… shit! Feels so fucking good!”

 Like the selfish bastard he knew he was deep down, Leon buried his tongue further into the heat of her cunt, stealing her siren’s song straight from her lips. She was like a siren, enchanting him with her song, with each pretty little note he dug from her with every stroke of his tongue. And just like the selfish, undeserving bastard he was, Leon drank everything she had to offer up like an expensive brand of wine. 

a/n; another one in the books for these two! thank you all so much for all the love you gave i can see you, it makes me so happy to see so many of you enjoying this little au! (also to see fellow resident evil fans/swifties 🤭

🎀 if you enjoyed this one, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the world to me 🫶

TAGLIST

@corruptcoder

@chaoticevilbakugo

@bxbyyyjocelyn

@luckypurins

[pasukiyo]

my anakin fic is either coming later tonight or tomorrow, sorry for the delay!

[pasukiyo]

SCREAMING THANK YOU AND ALSO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO RESPOND

makes my whole entire day though 🥹🫶

TAKE YOU LIKE A DRUG

bodyguard!leon x f!popstar!reader word count; 1,576 warnings; smut, oral (f receiving) summary; he's tried time and time again to push you away, to make you understand that you don't know what it means to want him. but how can he resist the temptation when you come barreling into his hotel room in the late hours of the night?

 Three knocks against Leon’s hotel room door woke him. 

 With a grumble, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his knuckles digging the sleep away from his eyes. He blinked through the blurriness of his vision down at the phone resting on the nightstand, ‘2:30’ in big, bold white letters across the top of the screen. 

 Three more knocks on the door made him rise from the bed and pull a loose t-shirt over his head, muscles aching with each step he took. 

 Frustration laced his weary bones— for fuck’s sake, it was his night off. For just once, he’d like to get some real sleep.  

 The knocking began again and Leon swung open the door before the count could reach three. He blinked, his brow dipping as he took in the figure before him. Her name tumbled from his lips and it was as if his voice was what made her snap, surging forward into him, her lips sealing his in a kiss. 

 Leon nearly stumbled backwards when she threw herself on him, an arm wrapped around his neck and a hand cupping his cheek. He steadied himself with either of his hands on her hips, attempting to pull himself away but the desperation in her kiss dragged him right back in, as if the ocean’s waves had crashed over his head. 

 Leon had kissed her many times before, too many times to count. They’d kissed in secret, in many storage closets, in dressing rooms, behind many backs. They’d kissed in hotel rooms, rental homes, even in each other’s own bedrooms. They’d kissed slowly, they’d kissed hard, they’d taken their time, and they'd kissed until they had to force themselves away to make schedules on time. 

 She kissed him now with a desperation he’d never tasted, never felt from her before. Her kiss was mind-numbing, nearly enough to turn his brain to mush and make his knees feel weak. But the slick, oily voice somewhere in the back of his head reminded him that he couldn’t do this, that he knew this was wrong. The voice’s whispers infected his brain like a parasite and twisted like vines around his ears, its breath hot as it curled around his cheeks. 

 Leon peeled open his eyelids and pushed her away by the grip he had on her hips, either of their chests heaving. She blinked up at him, a furrow in her brow and a look so devastating in her eyes that he had to turn away, wiping her spit from his lips. 

 “I told you we can’t do this anymore,” Leon managed to say over his panting. 

 She shook her head, “I don’t care.”

 Leon, still with his back turned, closed his eyes, willing his heart to ease in his chest. This was the last thing he needed— temptation. Because that was all he saw whenever he looked at her. Temptation. A lust from deep within the pit of his belly for risk, a dark, twisted desire to corrupt her, to ruin her like he already was. There were many secrets he’d kept— from her, from others. Secrets he’d buried long ago and vowed he’d never let resurface— secrets he was too tempted to dig up from the grave he’d abandoned long ago the closer he let himself be drawn to her. 

 There was a whole life’s worth of baggage he knew he shouldn’t burden her with, knew she didn’t deserve to have to deal with. Leon Kennedy was wrong for her in every single sense— why couldn’t it just be simple to get her to understand that?

 Leon sighed her name again, “you should,” he shook his head. “You should also be asleep right now. You just played a two hour show and you have a photoshoot in seven—“

 “I don’t care, Leon.”

 His muscles tensed when her hand slithered around his elbow, casting a glare to the ground beneath their feet as she coiled like a snake around his body until she stood before him. She dipped her chin, leaning down until their eyes could meet. 

 “Why are you always depriving yourself?” She asked, her temper short and rising to the gleam in her eyes. “You always push me away but I know you better than you think, Leon.”

 Leon’s jaw clenched and his gaze sharpened, shaking his head. Her bottom lip quivered at the intensity of his stare but still, she wouldn’t relent, wouldn’t let go. 

 “You don’t know the first thing about me,” he muttered. “And trust me, if you did, you wouldn’t want me.”

 She huffed, pressing her lips together to tame her temper. “You don’t know that,” she shook her head and he scoffed, slipping his arm away from her grip. She followed when he turned to move away, like a leech in his skin he couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard he tried. “Will you stop walking away from me for one goddamn second and just listen to me?”

 Leon turned, towering over her very suddenly, eclipsing whatever little light still remained in the room. She nearly stumbled back when he hovered over her, her lips parting in a gasp when her back hit the wall. Even still, Leon leaned closer, sleep a distant memory on his bones. 

 “When will it get through your thick fucking skull that I’m not good for you?” He practically hissed with a venom she felt straight in the chest. She blinked, and he continued, “you don’t know what it means to want me. You don’t know what kind of baggage you’re asking for.”

 There was a lump at the base of her throat that visibly bobbed when she swallowed and what might have been mistaken for fear began to show for what it really was— curiosity, desire, lust. 

 “I think I can discern what’s good or bad for me on my own,” she murmured, “I don’t need you to make decisions for me.”

 Leon blinked— was it even possible to get this girl to realize she was making a mistake?

 She balled the front of his t-shirt in a fist and tugged him into her, their breaths two ghosts in a waltz, the tips of their noses nearly touching. 

 “When will that get through your thick fucking skull?” She asked in a whisper, gaze flickering down to his lips and back. Leon’s heart thundered in his chest, the oily voice growing louder, barking its warnings. But the longer they stared at one another, the fainter the voice seemed to be until it drowned altogether. 

 Leon’s breath shuddered when he sucked it in, “you’re making a mistake.”

 She leaned further in until their lips were a mere wisp away from each other, “I’ll think I’ll live.”

 Their lips became one again and this time, Leon had no intention of pulling away. His hands were on her hips, woven in her hair, hers on his face, on his shoulder. They kissed with a fervor neither had ever felt before, their kiss was electric, and with a simple spark, they were both set aflame. 

 Leon’s hands carried her to bed and caressed the soft stomach beneath her t-shirt, his fingers curling around the hem of her shorts and tugging until they, along with her underwear, were discarded in a pile on the floor. 

 There they were again, making the same mistake they made time and time again. Her hands were in the dark blonde hair atop his head, still messy with sleep and his arms were hooked around her thighs, face burrowed into the sopping cunt between her legs, breathing her in like a vapor. His tongue swirled around her clit at an agonizing pace, one that had her throwing her head back into the pillows, her back arching up off the mattress. 

 “Mmm…” she mewled, squirming where she laid. “Fffuck Leon.”

 Leon hummed against her aching bud, taking her in as if she were a drug, for that’s exactly what she was. 

 A drug— one he couldn’t get enough of. One he always pushed away from but still clawed his way back to over and over again. She was a beautiful vice tied with a ribbon of glamor and fame, the physical embodiment of everything Leon didn’t and would never deserve. She was something too grand, too perfect, too good for him. 

 Leon greedily lapped up everything she had to offer with his tongue to her center, staring up at her through heavy, hooded lids as she writhed and mewled his name. She sang for him like the pretty little songbird she was, his tongue’s ministrations her muse, the ink to the pen she used to write her lyrics. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if this moment would be turned into a song, music thousands of her fans would scream the lyrics to and he’d be the only one to understand it for what it truly meant. 

 “Fuck! More… Leon, please! Feels so… shit! Feels so fucking good!”

 Like the selfish bastard he knew he was deep down, Leon buried his tongue further into the heat of her cunt, stealing her siren’s song straight from her lips. She was like a siren, enchanting him with her song, with each pretty little note he dug from her with every stroke of his tongue. And just like the selfish, undeserving bastard he was, Leon drank everything she had to offer up like an expensive brand of wine. 

a/n; another one in the books for these two! thank you all so much for all the love you gave i can see you, it makes me so happy to see so many of you enjoying this little au! (also to see fellow resident evil fans/swifties 🤭

🎀 if you enjoyed this one, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the world to me 🫶

TAGLIST

@corruptcoder

@chaoticevilbakugo

@bxbyyyjocelyn

@luckypurins

[pasukiyo]

i’m sorry i swear i’m not ignoring you guys, the tortured poets department has just ruined me emotionally

[pasukiyo]

just got home from my laufey trip and I’m still REELING.

tortured poets drops today so my anakin fic will probably be posted sometime this weekend!

[pasukiyo]

i’m seeing laufey today i’m so excited i can hardly breathe

[pasukiyo]

I’m totally normal about this like i’m totally not freaking out

If entry into THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT is what you seek, step out of the Midnights room and enjoy a peek.🚪

Add another board meeting to your TTPD Timetable on Friday at 8pm ET for a music video premiere!

[pasukiyo]

I AM ACTUALLY CRYING THIS IS THE SWEETEST FUCKING THING EVER LIKE I GENUINELY DON’T KNOW WHAT TO SAY. I AM FLABBERGASTED.

Thank you so so so so SO much for leaving the kindest, most sweetest, most thoughtful message I think I’ve ever received as a writer/since I’ve been on Tumblr. THE PHOTOS HAD ME LAUGHING 😭😭

Actually cannot thank you enough for reading and taking the time out of your day to reblog, like I can say it a million times over and it still wouldn’t be enough. JUST THANK YOU SO SO MUCH!! I’M SO SO SO GRATEFUL FOR A READER LIKE YOU!!

TAKE YOU LIKE A DRUG

bodyguard!leon x f!popstar!reader word count; 1,576 warnings; smut, oral (f receiving) summary; he's tried time and time again to push you away, to make you understand that you don't know what it means to want him. but how can he resist the temptation when you come barreling into his hotel room in the late hours of the night?

 Three knocks against Leon’s hotel room door woke him. 

 With a grumble, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his knuckles digging the sleep away from his eyes. He blinked through the blurriness of his vision down at the phone resting on the nightstand, ‘2:30’ in big, bold white letters across the top of the screen. 

 Three more knocks on the door made him rise from the bed and pull a loose t-shirt over his head, muscles aching with each step he took. 

 Frustration laced his weary bones— for fuck’s sake, it was his night off. For just once, he’d like to get some real sleep.  

 The knocking began again and Leon swung open the door before the count could reach three. He blinked, his brow dipping as he took in the figure before him. Her name tumbled from his lips and it was as if his voice was what made her snap, surging forward into him, her lips sealing his in a kiss. 

 Leon nearly stumbled backwards when she threw herself on him, an arm wrapped around his neck and a hand cupping his cheek. He steadied himself with either of his hands on her hips, attempting to pull himself away but the desperation in her kiss dragged him right back in, as if the ocean’s waves had crashed over his head. 

 Leon had kissed her many times before, too many times to count. They’d kissed in secret, in many storage closets, in dressing rooms, behind many backs. They’d kissed in hotel rooms, rental homes, even in each other’s own bedrooms. They’d kissed slowly, they’d kissed hard, they’d taken their time, and they'd kissed until they had to force themselves away to make schedules on time. 

 She kissed him now with a desperation he’d never tasted, never felt from her before. Her kiss was mind-numbing, nearly enough to turn his brain to mush and make his knees feel weak. But the slick, oily voice somewhere in the back of his head reminded him that he couldn’t do this, that he knew this was wrong. The voice’s whispers infected his brain like a parasite and twisted like vines around his ears, its breath hot as it curled around his cheeks. 

 Leon peeled open his eyelids and pushed her away by the grip he had on her hips, either of their chests heaving. She blinked up at him, a furrow in her brow and a look so devastating in her eyes that he had to turn away, wiping her spit from his lips. 

 “I told you we can’t do this anymore,” Leon managed to say over his panting. 

 She shook her head, “I don’t care.”

 Leon, still with his back turned, closed his eyes, willing his heart to ease in his chest. This was the last thing he needed— temptation. Because that was all he saw whenever he looked at her. Temptation. A lust from deep within the pit of his belly for risk, a dark, twisted desire to corrupt her, to ruin her like he already was. There were many secrets he’d kept— from her, from others. Secrets he’d buried long ago and vowed he’d never let resurface— secrets he was too tempted to dig up from the grave he’d abandoned long ago the closer he let himself be drawn to her. 

 There was a whole life’s worth of baggage he knew he shouldn’t burden her with, knew she didn’t deserve to have to deal with. Leon Kennedy was wrong for her in every single sense— why couldn’t it just be simple to get her to understand that?

 Leon sighed her name again, “you should,” he shook his head. “You should also be asleep right now. You just played a two hour show and you have a photoshoot in seven—“

 “I don’t care, Leon.”

 His muscles tensed when her hand slithered around his elbow, casting a glare to the ground beneath their feet as she coiled like a snake around his body until she stood before him. She dipped her chin, leaning down until their eyes could meet. 

 “Why are you always depriving yourself?” She asked, her temper short and rising to the gleam in her eyes. “You always push me away but I know you better than you think, Leon.”

 Leon’s jaw clenched and his gaze sharpened, shaking his head. Her bottom lip quivered at the intensity of his stare but still, she wouldn’t relent, wouldn’t let go. 

 “You don’t know the first thing about me,” he muttered. “And trust me, if you did, you wouldn’t want me.”

 She huffed, pressing her lips together to tame her temper. “You don’t know that,” she shook her head and he scoffed, slipping his arm away from her grip. She followed when he turned to move away, like a leech in his skin he couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard he tried. “Will you stop walking away from me for one goddamn second and just listen to me?”

 Leon turned, towering over her very suddenly, eclipsing whatever little light still remained in the room. She nearly stumbled back when he hovered over her, her lips parting in a gasp when her back hit the wall. Even still, Leon leaned closer, sleep a distant memory on his bones. 

 “When will it get through your thick fucking skull that I’m not good for you?” He practically hissed with a venom she felt straight in the chest. She blinked, and he continued, “you don’t know what it means to want me. You don’t know what kind of baggage you’re asking for.”

 There was a lump at the base of her throat that visibly bobbed when she swallowed and what might have been mistaken for fear began to show for what it really was— curiosity, desire, lust. 

 “I think I can discern what’s good or bad for me on my own,” she murmured, “I don’t need you to make decisions for me.”

 Leon blinked— was it even possible to get this girl to realize she was making a mistake?

 She balled the front of his t-shirt in a fist and tugged him into her, their breaths two ghosts in a waltz, the tips of their noses nearly touching. 

 “When will that get through your thick fucking skull?” She asked in a whisper, gaze flickering down to his lips and back. Leon’s heart thundered in his chest, the oily voice growing louder, barking its warnings. But the longer they stared at one another, the fainter the voice seemed to be until it drowned altogether. 

 Leon’s breath shuddered when he sucked it in, “you’re making a mistake.”

 She leaned further in until their lips were a mere wisp away from each other, “I’ll think I’ll live.”

 Their lips became one again and this time, Leon had no intention of pulling away. His hands were on her hips, woven in her hair, hers on his face, on his shoulder. They kissed with a fervor neither had ever felt before, their kiss was electric, and with a simple spark, they were both set aflame. 

 Leon’s hands carried her to bed and caressed the soft stomach beneath her t-shirt, his fingers curling around the hem of her shorts and tugging until they, along with her underwear, were discarded in a pile on the floor. 

 There they were again, making the same mistake they made time and time again. Her hands were in the dark blonde hair atop his head, still messy with sleep and his arms were hooked around her thighs, face burrowed into the sopping cunt between her legs, breathing her in like a vapor. His tongue swirled around her clit at an agonizing pace, one that had her throwing her head back into the pillows, her back arching up off the mattress. 

 “Mmm…” she mewled, squirming where she laid. “Fffuck Leon.”

 Leon hummed against her aching bud, taking her in as if she were a drug, for that’s exactly what she was. 

 A drug— one he couldn’t get enough of. One he always pushed away from but still clawed his way back to over and over again. She was a beautiful vice tied with a ribbon of glamor and fame, the physical embodiment of everything Leon didn’t and would never deserve. She was something too grand, too perfect, too good for him. 

 Leon greedily lapped up everything she had to offer with his tongue to her center, staring up at her through heavy, hooded lids as she writhed and mewled his name. She sang for him like the pretty little songbird she was, his tongue’s ministrations her muse, the ink to the pen she used to write her lyrics. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if this moment would be turned into a song, music thousands of her fans would scream the lyrics to and he’d be the only one to understand it for what it truly meant. 

 “Fuck! More… Leon, please! Feels so… shit! Feels so fucking good!”

 Like the selfish bastard he knew he was deep down, Leon buried his tongue further into the heat of her cunt, stealing her siren’s song straight from her lips. She was like a siren, enchanting him with her song, with each pretty little note he dug from her with every stroke of his tongue. And just like the selfish, undeserving bastard he was, Leon drank everything she had to offer up like an expensive brand of wine. 

a/n; another one in the books for these two! thank you all so much for all the love you gave i can see you, it makes me so happy to see so many of you enjoying this little au! (also to see fellow resident evil fans/swifties 🤭

🎀 if you enjoyed this one, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the world to me 🫶

TAGLIST

@corruptcoder

@chaoticevilbakugo

@bxbyyyjocelyn

@luckypurins

[pasukiyo]

i want attention for my creations the same way a five year old wants their parents to proudly hang their stick family drawing up on the fridge

[pasukiyo]

i am literally seeing laufey in less than 48 hours, everybody clap for me right now

[pasukiyo]

OKAY STAR OVER HERE LITERALLY MAKING MY DAY AND NIGHT LIKE ☺️☺️☺️☺️

THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN FOR TAKING THE TIME OUT OF YOUR DAY TO REBLOG AND LEAVE A SWEET MESSAGE 😭 i’m home now so i can properly giggle and kick my feet 🤭🫶

TAKE YOU LIKE A DRUG

bodyguard!leon x f!popstar!reader word count; 1,576 warnings; smut, oral (f receiving) summary; he's tried time and time again to push you away, to make you understand that you don't know what it means to want him. but how can he resist the temptation when you come barreling into his hotel room in the late hours of the night?

 Three knocks against Leon’s hotel room door woke him. 

 With a grumble, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his knuckles digging the sleep away from his eyes. He blinked through the blurriness of his vision down at the phone resting on the nightstand, ‘2:30’ in big, bold white letters across the top of the screen. 

 Three more knocks on the door made him rise from the bed and pull a loose t-shirt over his head, muscles aching with each step he took. 

 Frustration laced his weary bones— for fuck’s sake, it was his night off. For just once, he’d like to get some real sleep.  

 The knocking began again and Leon swung open the door before the count could reach three. He blinked, his brow dipping as he took in the figure before him. Her name tumbled from his lips and it was as if his voice was what made her snap, surging forward into him, her lips sealing his in a kiss. 

 Leon nearly stumbled backwards when she threw herself on him, an arm wrapped around his neck and a hand cupping his cheek. He steadied himself with either of his hands on her hips, attempting to pull himself away but the desperation in her kiss dragged him right back in, as if the ocean’s waves had crashed over his head. 

 Leon had kissed her many times before, too many times to count. They’d kissed in secret, in many storage closets, in dressing rooms, behind many backs. They’d kissed in hotel rooms, rental homes, even in each other’s own bedrooms. They’d kissed slowly, they’d kissed hard, they’d taken their time, and they'd kissed until they had to force themselves away to make schedules on time. 

 She kissed him now with a desperation he’d never tasted, never felt from her before. Her kiss was mind-numbing, nearly enough to turn his brain to mush and make his knees feel weak. But the slick, oily voice somewhere in the back of his head reminded him that he couldn’t do this, that he knew this was wrong. The voice’s whispers infected his brain like a parasite and twisted like vines around his ears, its breath hot as it curled around his cheeks. 

 Leon peeled open his eyelids and pushed her away by the grip he had on her hips, either of their chests heaving. She blinked up at him, a furrow in her brow and a look so devastating in her eyes that he had to turn away, wiping her spit from his lips. 

 “I told you we can’t do this anymore,” Leon managed to say over his panting. 

 She shook her head, “I don’t care.”

 Leon, still with his back turned, closed his eyes, willing his heart to ease in his chest. This was the last thing he needed— temptation. Because that was all he saw whenever he looked at her. Temptation. A lust from deep within the pit of his belly for risk, a dark, twisted desire to corrupt her, to ruin her like he already was. There were many secrets he’d kept— from her, from others. Secrets he’d buried long ago and vowed he’d never let resurface— secrets he was too tempted to dig up from the grave he’d abandoned long ago the closer he let himself be drawn to her. 

 There was a whole life’s worth of baggage he knew he shouldn’t burden her with, knew she didn’t deserve to have to deal with. Leon Kennedy was wrong for her in every single sense— why couldn’t it just be simple to get her to understand that?

 Leon sighed her name again, “you should,” he shook his head. “You should also be asleep right now. You just played a two hour show and you have a photoshoot in seven—“

 “I don’t care, Leon.”

 His muscles tensed when her hand slithered around his elbow, casting a glare to the ground beneath their feet as she coiled like a snake around his body until she stood before him. She dipped her chin, leaning down until their eyes could meet. 

 “Why are you always depriving yourself?” She asked, her temper short and rising to the gleam in her eyes. “You always push me away but I know you better than you think, Leon.”

 Leon’s jaw clenched and his gaze sharpened, shaking his head. Her bottom lip quivered at the intensity of his stare but still, she wouldn’t relent, wouldn’t let go. 

 “You don’t know the first thing about me,” he muttered. “And trust me, if you did, you wouldn’t want me.”

 She huffed, pressing her lips together to tame her temper. “You don’t know that,” she shook her head and he scoffed, slipping his arm away from her grip. She followed when he turned to move away, like a leech in his skin he couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard he tried. “Will you stop walking away from me for one goddamn second and just listen to me?”

 Leon turned, towering over her very suddenly, eclipsing whatever little light still remained in the room. She nearly stumbled back when he hovered over her, her lips parting in a gasp when her back hit the wall. Even still, Leon leaned closer, sleep a distant memory on his bones. 

 “When will it get through your thick fucking skull that I’m not good for you?” He practically hissed with a venom she felt straight in the chest. She blinked, and he continued, “you don’t know what it means to want me. You don’t know what kind of baggage you’re asking for.”

 There was a lump at the base of her throat that visibly bobbed when she swallowed and what might have been mistaken for fear began to show for what it really was— curiosity, desire, lust. 

 “I think I can discern what’s good or bad for me on my own,” she murmured, “I don’t need you to make decisions for me.”

 Leon blinked— was it even possible to get this girl to realize she was making a mistake?

 She balled the front of his t-shirt in a fist and tugged him into her, their breaths two ghosts in a waltz, the tips of their noses nearly touching. 

 “When will that get through your thick fucking skull?” She asked in a whisper, gaze flickering down to his lips and back. Leon’s heart thundered in his chest, the oily voice growing louder, barking its warnings. But the longer they stared at one another, the fainter the voice seemed to be until it drowned altogether. 

 Leon’s breath shuddered when he sucked it in, “you’re making a mistake.”

 She leaned further in until their lips were a mere wisp away from each other, “I’ll think I’ll live.”

 Their lips became one again and this time, Leon had no intention of pulling away. His hands were on her hips, woven in her hair, hers on his face, on his shoulder. They kissed with a fervor neither had ever felt before, their kiss was electric, and with a simple spark, they were both set aflame. 

 Leon’s hands carried her to bed and caressed the soft stomach beneath her t-shirt, his fingers curling around the hem of her shorts and tugging until they, along with her underwear, were discarded in a pile on the floor. 

 There they were again, making the same mistake they made time and time again. Her hands were in the dark blonde hair atop his head, still messy with sleep and his arms were hooked around her thighs, face burrowed into the sopping cunt between her legs, breathing her in like a vapor. His tongue swirled around her clit at an agonizing pace, one that had her throwing her head back into the pillows, her back arching up off the mattress. 

 “Mmm…” she mewled, squirming where she laid. “Fffuck Leon.”

 Leon hummed against her aching bud, taking her in as if she were a drug, for that’s exactly what she was. 

 A drug— one he couldn’t get enough of. One he always pushed away from but still clawed his way back to over and over again. She was a beautiful vice tied with a ribbon of glamor and fame, the physical embodiment of everything Leon didn’t and would never deserve. She was something too grand, too perfect, too good for him. 

 Leon greedily lapped up everything she had to offer with his tongue to her center, staring up at her through heavy, hooded lids as she writhed and mewled his name. She sang for him like the pretty little songbird she was, his tongue’s ministrations her muse, the ink to the pen she used to write her lyrics. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if this moment would be turned into a song, music thousands of her fans would scream the lyrics to and he’d be the only one to understand it for what it truly meant. 

 “Fuck! More… Leon, please! Feels so… shit! Feels so fucking good!”

 Like the selfish bastard he knew he was deep down, Leon buried his tongue further into the heat of her cunt, stealing her siren’s song straight from her lips. She was like a siren, enchanting him with her song, with each pretty little note he dug from her with every stroke of his tongue. And just like the selfish, undeserving bastard he was, Leon drank everything she had to offer up like an expensive brand of wine. 

a/n; another one in the books for these two! thank you all so much for all the love you gave i can see you, it makes me so happy to see so many of you enjoying this little au! (also to see fellow resident evil fans/swifties 🤭

🎀 if you enjoyed this one, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the world to me 🫶

TAGLIST

@corruptcoder

@chaoticevilbakugo

@bxbyyyjocelyn

@luckypurins

[pasukiyo]

i, too, haven’t been able to stop thinking about bodyguard!leon so this reaction is completely valid

TAKE YOU LIKE A DRUG

bodyguard!leon x f!popstar!reader word count; 1,576 warnings; smut, oral (f receiving) summary; he's tried time and time again to push you away, to make you understand that you don't know what it means to want him. but how can he resist the temptation when you come barreling into his hotel room in the late hours of the night?

 Three knocks against Leon’s hotel room door woke him. 

 With a grumble, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his knuckles digging the sleep away from his eyes. He blinked through the blurriness of his vision down at the phone resting on the nightstand, ‘2:30’ in big, bold white letters across the top of the screen. 

 Three more knocks on the door made him rise from the bed and pull a loose t-shirt over his head, muscles aching with each step he took. 

 Frustration laced his weary bones— for fuck’s sake, it was his night off. For just once, he’d like to get some real sleep.  

 The knocking began again and Leon swung open the door before the count could reach three. He blinked, his brow dipping as he took in the figure before him. Her name tumbled from his lips and it was as if his voice was what made her snap, surging forward into him, her lips sealing his in a kiss. 

 Leon nearly stumbled backwards when she threw herself on him, an arm wrapped around his neck and a hand cupping his cheek. He steadied himself with either of his hands on her hips, attempting to pull himself away but the desperation in her kiss dragged him right back in, as if the ocean’s waves had crashed over his head. 

 Leon had kissed her many times before, too many times to count. They’d kissed in secret, in many storage closets, in dressing rooms, behind many backs. They’d kissed in hotel rooms, rental homes, even in each other’s own bedrooms. They’d kissed slowly, they’d kissed hard, they’d taken their time, and they'd kissed until they had to force themselves away to make schedules on time. 

 She kissed him now with a desperation he’d never tasted, never felt from her before. Her kiss was mind-numbing, nearly enough to turn his brain to mush and make his knees feel weak. But the slick, oily voice somewhere in the back of his head reminded him that he couldn’t do this, that he knew this was wrong. The voice’s whispers infected his brain like a parasite and twisted like vines around his ears, its breath hot as it curled around his cheeks. 

 Leon peeled open his eyelids and pushed her away by the grip he had on her hips, either of their chests heaving. She blinked up at him, a furrow in her brow and a look so devastating in her eyes that he had to turn away, wiping her spit from his lips. 

 “I told you we can’t do this anymore,” Leon managed to say over his panting. 

 She shook her head, “I don’t care.”

 Leon, still with his back turned, closed his eyes, willing his heart to ease in his chest. This was the last thing he needed— temptation. Because that was all he saw whenever he looked at her. Temptation. A lust from deep within the pit of his belly for risk, a dark, twisted desire to corrupt her, to ruin her like he already was. There were many secrets he’d kept— from her, from others. Secrets he’d buried long ago and vowed he’d never let resurface— secrets he was too tempted to dig up from the grave he’d abandoned long ago the closer he let himself be drawn to her. 

 There was a whole life’s worth of baggage he knew he shouldn’t burden her with, knew she didn’t deserve to have to deal with. Leon Kennedy was wrong for her in every single sense— why couldn’t it just be simple to get her to understand that?

 Leon sighed her name again, “you should,” he shook his head. “You should also be asleep right now. You just played a two hour show and you have a photoshoot in seven—“

 “I don’t care, Leon.”

 His muscles tensed when her hand slithered around his elbow, casting a glare to the ground beneath their feet as she coiled like a snake around his body until she stood before him. She dipped her chin, leaning down until their eyes could meet. 

 “Why are you always depriving yourself?” She asked, her temper short and rising to the gleam in her eyes. “You always push me away but I know you better than you think, Leon.”

 Leon’s jaw clenched and his gaze sharpened, shaking his head. Her bottom lip quivered at the intensity of his stare but still, she wouldn’t relent, wouldn’t let go. 

 “You don’t know the first thing about me,” he muttered. “And trust me, if you did, you wouldn’t want me.”

 She huffed, pressing her lips together to tame her temper. “You don’t know that,” she shook her head and he scoffed, slipping his arm away from her grip. She followed when he turned to move away, like a leech in his skin he couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard he tried. “Will you stop walking away from me for one goddamn second and just listen to me?”

 Leon turned, towering over her very suddenly, eclipsing whatever little light still remained in the room. She nearly stumbled back when he hovered over her, her lips parting in a gasp when her back hit the wall. Even still, Leon leaned closer, sleep a distant memory on his bones. 

 “When will it get through your thick fucking skull that I’m not good for you?” He practically hissed with a venom she felt straight in the chest. She blinked, and he continued, “you don’t know what it means to want me. You don’t know what kind of baggage you’re asking for.”

 There was a lump at the base of her throat that visibly bobbed when she swallowed and what might have been mistaken for fear began to show for what it really was— curiosity, desire, lust. 

 “I think I can discern what’s good or bad for me on my own,” she murmured, “I don’t need you to make decisions for me.”

 Leon blinked— was it even possible to get this girl to realize she was making a mistake?

 She balled the front of his t-shirt in a fist and tugged him into her, their breaths two ghosts in a waltz, the tips of their noses nearly touching. 

 “When will that get through your thick fucking skull?” She asked in a whisper, gaze flickering down to his lips and back. Leon’s heart thundered in his chest, the oily voice growing louder, barking its warnings. But the longer they stared at one another, the fainter the voice seemed to be until it drowned altogether. 

 Leon’s breath shuddered when he sucked it in, “you’re making a mistake.”

 She leaned further in until their lips were a mere wisp away from each other, “I’ll think I’ll live.”

 Their lips became one again and this time, Leon had no intention of pulling away. His hands were on her hips, woven in her hair, hers on his face, on his shoulder. They kissed with a fervor neither had ever felt before, their kiss was electric, and with a simple spark, they were both set aflame. 

 Leon’s hands carried her to bed and caressed the soft stomach beneath her t-shirt, his fingers curling around the hem of her shorts and tugging until they, along with her underwear, were discarded in a pile on the floor. 

 There they were again, making the same mistake they made time and time again. Her hands were in the dark blonde hair atop his head, still messy with sleep and his arms were hooked around her thighs, face burrowed into the sopping cunt between her legs, breathing her in like a vapor. His tongue swirled around her clit at an agonizing pace, one that had her throwing her head back into the pillows, her back arching up off the mattress. 

 “Mmm…” she mewled, squirming where she laid. “Fffuck Leon.”

 Leon hummed against her aching bud, taking her in as if she were a drug, for that’s exactly what she was. 

 A drug— one he couldn’t get enough of. One he always pushed away from but still clawed his way back to over and over again. She was a beautiful vice tied with a ribbon of glamor and fame, the physical embodiment of everything Leon didn’t and would never deserve. She was something too grand, too perfect, too good for him. 

 Leon greedily lapped up everything she had to offer with his tongue to her center, staring up at her through heavy, hooded lids as she writhed and mewled his name. She sang for him like the pretty little songbird she was, his tongue’s ministrations her muse, the ink to the pen she used to write her lyrics. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if this moment would be turned into a song, music thousands of her fans would scream the lyrics to and he’d be the only one to understand it for what it truly meant. 

 “Fuck! More… Leon, please! Feels so… shit! Feels so fucking good!”

 Like the selfish bastard he knew he was deep down, Leon buried his tongue further into the heat of her cunt, stealing her siren’s song straight from her lips. She was like a siren, enchanting him with her song, with each pretty little note he dug from her with every stroke of his tongue. And just like the selfish, undeserving bastard he was, Leon drank everything she had to offer up like an expensive brand of wine. 

a/n; another one in the books for these two! thank you all so much for all the love you gave i can see you, it makes me so happy to see so many of you enjoying this little au! (also to see fellow resident evil fans/swifties 🤭

🎀 if you enjoyed this one, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the world to me 🫶

TAGLIST

@corruptcoder

@chaoticevilbakugo

@bxbyyyjocelyn

@luckypurins

[pasukiyo]

okay WOW my heart literally melted because this message is so fucking sweet i can’t 😭 first of all, thank you so so much for reading 🥺 and thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to reblog with literally the sweetest message ever, like i can’t stop smiling 😭 i’d be giggling and kicking my feet right now if i wasn’t at work LMFAOOO but just UGH THANK YOU A MILLION TIMES OVER FOR YOUR SUPPORT! it means the world to me to have readers i can engage with and it’s truly a blessing. i hope you’re getting plenty of rest too!!

LEECH: ALL AROUND ME

| a collection of one-shots. collection masterlist.

DISCLAIMER: this fic is simply a work of fiction and is in no way, shape, or form claiming to be a reflection of how leon kennedy is canonically portrayed as a character. this is an au, meaning it is an alternate reality written for fun, so please heed this warning and keep it in mind while you read.

** none of these fics necessarily need to be read in any sort of order **

— to join the taglist, follow the link here and choose "leon kennedy" in the character list.

collection songbook

leon kennedy x fem!reader word count; 3,031 warnings; leon is a stalker, themes of dark!leon, smut, masturbation (both m & f), alcohol use, allusions to oral (f receiving), spit play? summary; long shifts two days in a row apparently called for drunken measures. she knew it had to be because she was drunk that she was breaking her routine, that she was thinking about leon kennedy again, that her hand was slipping between her thighs, that she could feel him all around her...

 Ghosts haunted the long hallway leading to her apartment door. They lingered in the shadows, watching her as she walked by, their gazes like insects crawling on her skin. She was too tired to fully acknowledge them now but they were there, she could feel them all around her. 

 For now, she fumbled around with her key, circling the hole in the knob through half-lidded eyes until it finally entered the lock. The door squeaked as she stepped into her apartment, kicking her foot back against it to close it again. Sleep weighed heavily on her eyelids and there was a crick in the back of her neck she desperately tried to rub out as she locked the door, groaning while she tossing her purse and keys atop the kitchen counter. 

 She shuffled her feet towards the refrigerator, squinting against the harsh, yellow light inside as she reached for the leftovers from the night prior. She was going through the motions— dumping the contents of the white styrofoam to-go box onto a plate, opening the microwave, setting the plate down, slamming the door closed, pressing the 1, 3, 5 buttons. 

 Nights after long shifts at the hospital were always spent like this. Barely able to feed herself properly through a numb mind, scarfing down the lukewarm food, tossing the styrofoam to-go box away, staggering into the bathroom, stripping herself of her scrubs, turning the knob of the shower all the way to the left until the water was hot enough to scorch her skin. 

 It was all routine and practically nothing could break her from it through her barely-cognizant mind. Nothing— although, she did wonder somewhere in the back of her mind whether or not she left her toothbrush on the edge of the sink rather than in its holder before she left that morning. 

 Her flesh pleasantly burned as she shut off the shower, wringing the water from her hair before wrapping herself in a towel, stepping onto the bathmat. She finished the rest of her routine— brushing her teeth, blow-drying her hair, tugging on a t-shirt and underwear. 

 She was completely numb to the world by the time she was finished and all she could think about was her bed. Nothing could distract her from her bed. Everything ceased to exist save for her bed. 

 She practically face-planted into the mattress, tugging the comforter over her body as a chill settled into her bones. It was cold, unusually cold but cold was nice— she could sleep better when it was cold. 

 Nothing could distract her from her bed, from the sleep that was finally coming to, so close now, it hovered over her like the moon over the sun in an eclipse. Nothing could pull her away from sleep now— although, she did wonder whether or not her closet door had been cracked when she left that morning. 

 Her shift was an hour less than the one she’d worked the previous day. 

 She wasn’t sure if she should’ve been celebrating, as working nine hours was practically the same as working ten, but she’d take the small-scale victory for what it was worth anyways. 

 “You drinking tonight?” A fellow nurse, Grace, asked as they both gathered their things. She blinked at her coworker, then past her where another nurse, Isa, stood, staring back expectantly. 

 “I just worked nine hours,” she informed, turning back to her locker to shovel the rest of her things in her bag. 

 “Perfect drinking measures, if you ask me,” Isa grinned, leaning a shoulder against the wall. Grace closed her locker, tittering an, “exactly.”

 She sighed as she slammed her own locker closed, huffing a lock of hair away from her face while she slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder. The two nurses gazed back with expectant looks— she had a feeling they wouldn’t be taking no for an answer. 

 “I should really catch up on sleep.”

 Grace and Isa rolled their eyes in unison, the latter reaching forward to give her elbow a shove with her own. 

 “Come on. Just one drink and then you can go home, okay?” Isa pinched her brows together, her eyes rounding in a look that made her curse beneath her breath. She knew she couldn’t say no now. 

 “Fine,” she grumbled. “One drink. And I’m not paying.”

 She had more than one drink. 

 One turned into two, two turned into three, and four had her stumbling over her own feet down the hall towards her door at a quarter past midnight. Ghosts still haunted the hallway, lingering in the shadows, watching her with eyes that made the hairs on the back of her neck perk. She turned and glared back, even though to nothing in particular. She huffed at the prickly feeling of being watched, muttering a string of curses beneath her breath while she fumbled with her key as she approached her door, seemingly unable to find the hole in it. 

 “Come on,” she groaned until finally, the key was in and she hastily turned the lock, stumbling. The door banged against the wall as she fell into the knob, cursing again as she slammed it back closed. She locked the door behind her and fell back against it with a huff, trying to blink the blurriness away from her drunken vision. 

 The cue in her brain that usually reminded her of her routine: eat leftovers from fridge, take shower, go to bed failed to function properly. Instead, images of memories embedded somewhere deep in her mind flashed, flooding her every sense until her entryway faded and she was back in the secret government training facility, knocking back a drink someone had snuck in. 

 She sat on a cot with her legs over someone’s bare lap, their fingers tracing patterns into her calves. When she swallowed down the bitter liquid and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, she blinked up at them to find they already stared back. 

 “Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked, leaning over to hand them back the flask. Leon’s full, pink lips curved into a soft smile as he brought the rim of the small container to his lips, taking a sip of its contents. 

 “Looking at you like what?” 

 She pursed her lips as she leaned back on her elbows, head lolling back towards the metal rods that made up the headboard. “Like you’re trying to get into my head,” she replied and Leon snorted, setting the cold bottom of the flask down on her knee, resting his other hand on the middle of her calf.

 “I’m not trying to get into your head,” he said, leaning his head back against the wall, green with muck. She narrowed her eyes, “right.” 

 She rolled her head around her neck, brow pinched as her gaze found his again. Her eyes trailed from his down to the breadth of his shoulders, to his toned chest and stomach. There was an angry swelling in the crook of his neck and she pushed herself up to lean over towards him. Leon’s blue stare followed her hand as it reached for the mark, his breath hitching for but a mere moment when her fingertips touched his skin, his grip tighter around the metal flask.

 “It’s so red,” she noted and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was bordering on drunk that she was so entranced in this little, dark bite, but all she could really gather was that something about it made her feel… good. There was something so enthralling about having made a mark upon another’s skin, something that felt so potent. The blemish she’d made on his skin in a way made him hers, made it feel real. 

 “It doesn’t hurt,” Leon said, his eyes trailing up from her arm, past her naked breasts, up to her face. She blinked up at him, finger still on his pulse point, feeling it throb beneath her. It’s beat was irregular to her own heart but still, it beat for her, because of her, nonetheless. Leon’s flesh grew hot underneath her fingertip, like she was the match rubbing and igniting against him. 

 In a way, she really was. There was something about the way Leon felt, the way he looked at her, the way he smelled that had her center throbbing, flooding with liquid warmth. Her belly was melting and she felt like her entire body was on fire, unable to extinguish if she didn’t have him all over her. 

 She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his, his tongue eager and already feeling around her mouth. She already felt his hands circling around her waist— the flask toppling to the ground from over the side of the bed— pulling her in closer, her legs slithering around his hips. Her arms rounded his neck and she used them as leverage to allow herself to draw even further into him, deepening their kiss. 

 Leon kissed her with a fervor she’d felt from no one else before. He kissed her like she was his lifeline, like her lips were the tourniquet holding him together. He kissed her like he planned to infect, to invade her every sense and corrupt like a parasite. He was the sickness injecting itself into her veins and wearing down her bones but when he kissed her like that, she couldn’t find it within herself to care. 

 She canted her hips in his lap, feeling his erection beneath her ass, covered by the thin, fleece blanket on top of his legs. Leon hissed through his teeth as they pulled away for a moment of breath, a thin string of saliva bridging their mouths together. She glanced between it and back to the hazy storm in his eyes, dipping her chin to follow the line of spit back to his mouth, pulling him in for more. 

 One of Leon’s hands ventured from her waist, all the way up her back to her neck, creeping into the hair on the back of her head, his fingers woven in the tresses there. With a firm yank, her lips were pried off of his and she gasped, chin dripping with spit, another bridge of saliva drooping low towards their laps. 

 “Open,” Leon panted, the pad of his thumb not in her hair prying at her bottom lip. She complied, lips falling open and she watched as he gathered saliva on the tip of his tongue, leaning in closer to spit into her mouth. She hummed at his taste, stared into his eyes and he watched the lump in her throat bob as she swallowed. “Fuck.”

 There still remained a bridge of spittle between their mouths and she watched from the bottom of her lids as Leon copied her actions from before— following the trail of spit until his lips were on her chin, sucking the saliva that coated her skin there. 

 Her lips fell agape in a gasp, eyes rolling in the back of her head as his mouth left a slimy trail of spittle down her throat, lapping at the oasis between her neck and shoulder. It was so filthy, being kissed like this but fuck, she wanted more of it. She wanted more of his spit on her skin, more of his tongue swirling on her flesh, more of his teeth etching marks into her body, more of his saliva down her throat. 

 Leon’s tongue whirled to the crook of her neck, the same place where she’d left a mark on him and pressed soft, tender kisses there. She could feel him breathe against her skin, his breath warm and making her saliva-coated flesh bump with chills. The palm of one of her hands smoothed over his chest, trailing all the way up to his shoulder and around his neck just as his teeth sunk into the flesh at the base of her throat, her fingers woven through the dark blonde locks at the nape of his neck, tugging. 

 “Oh… f..fuck,” she gasped as he sucked her skin, pressing his tongue flat to the mark he’d etched there. Her head was still tipped back and Leon used the hand curled around to the back of it to force her gaze down to his. Her eyelids fluttered open and Leon stared back through heavy, hooded lids, the blue in his irises so dark they were nearly gray, like the sky in a storm. 

 Her chest heaved in tandem with her breaths, feeling so entranced in the way his gaze seemed to draw her in like the sea in stormy weather. She was in the midst of his ocean, being drawn in further away from the shore the longer she stared. 

 “You’re so beautiful,” Leon murmured, glancing between her eyes and her lips as the hand not on the back of her head fell down to her lap, soothing patterns into the soft flesh of her thigh. She could feel her heart skip a couple of beats as his palm slipped between them, within mere centimeters from her heat. 

 She couldn’t look away from him. There was something so strangely haunting about the way Leon looked at her and she wasn’t sure if it was because they were both a few swigs of drink in, but there was something poignant in the murky waters of his stare. There was something about Leon Kennedy she hadn’t quite figured out yet, she knew this much. But the mystery of this man was alluring, like his story was calling out to her as if it were a siren and she was a sailor at sea. She could already feel it pulling her down, sinking further until her head was near-fully submerged in water. 

 As his fingertips brushed against her aching clit, she vowed that whatever it was calling out to her within Leon Kennedy, she would find it. 

 The pads of Leon’s middle and forefingers spun circles against her bud and she hissed. 

 But Leon Kennedy’s story would have to wait for now. 

 Burning hot pleasure blazed her skin as the memory began to fade, but still, that bliss remained, even as her vision began to clear and she was back in the one bedroom apartment she called home. There was a searing ache between her legs and she could already feel her slick begin to pool in her underwear. Her legs shook with the sheer power of her arousal and she gasped, lunging forward to grasp the edge of the kitchen counter. 

 She knew it was the alcohol making her feel these things, reigniting whatever sort of feeling she had for Leon Kennedy. It’d been months since the last time she’d seen him, anyways. He was but a ghost now, a distant, faint memory buried somewhere deep in the archives of her mind. 

 She knew it had to be because she was drunk that she was stripping herself naked and slipping into bed, leaning back against the headboard. She knew it had to be because she was drunk that her hand was sliding down between her legs, that her fingers were rubbing in all the places Leon’s once were. She knew it had to be because she was drunk that all she could think about was Leon: Leon’s hands, Leon’s fingers, Leon’s skin, Leon’s face. She could feel him all around her, possessing her, corrupting her like an infection until she couldn’t even think straight. He was circling like a vulture, thickening the air she was breathing and holding on to her every feeling, locking her in, trapping her. 

 She knew it had to be because she was drunk that her mouth fell open as she tossed her head back against the headboard, arching her back, rubbing her fingers over her clit harder and harder, Leon’s name tumbling from her lips. She knew it had to be because she was drunk that she was coming, that white hot bliss was shooting straight through her and out her pussy, envisioning Leon’s face between her thighs, letting not a single drop of her orgasm go to waste. 

 She knew it had to be because she was drunk that she swore she could hear something come from the closet across the room. Did she leave it closed like that when she left that morning? She knew it had to be because she was drunk that she didn’t care, not in the moment. All she could think to do was close her eyes and let the memory of Leon Kennedy coax her down from her high. 

 Leon sunk his teeth deeper into the plush of his bottom lip to stifle the sounds threatening to come out. He used one hand to steady himself against the wall, the other to fist his cock, pumping himself harder and harder in rhythm to her fingers’ ministrations against her clit. His name was slipping from between her lips and she was spread out on the bed like the incarnation of all of Leon’s vices. 

 There was a knot of pressure building in his sack, being strung forward with each sharp tug of his hand on his cock. He was so close, so dangerously close that he could feel it, could see it, could taste it. All he had to do was wait a moment longer, just one small second…

 “Oh… oh shit, fuck! Fuck, Leon! Ri… right there!” She cried out and Leon’s eyes snapped open, watching from the slivers of openings in the closet door as her toes curled and her back arched, finally coming to her release. That knot slipped and he practically exploded into the palm of his hand, clamping his mouth closed with his opposite, willing himself to stay quiet. 

 Once the aftershocks of his prolonged orgasm began to fade, he leaned against the wall of the closet, trying to catch his breath as quietly as possible. He peeked through the openings in the closet door as her eyelids began to flutter closed, her heaving chest slowing until she slipped into the arms of slumber. 

 Leon sighed— there was only one thought that circulated his mind now.

 She still thought about him.

a/n; i wrote the last like 1500 words while sitting in my bed, fan turned up to high, freezing my ass off 😃 i've found that i'm more satisfied with the outcome of my writing whenever i make myself physically uncomfortable to the point its nearly unbearable LMFAOOO

anyways! i really enjoyed writing this one and i really hope you all enjoy reading it! i'm feeling really excited to write more for the leech collection 🤭

💿 if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the entire world to me 🫶

TAGLIST

@corruptcoder @chaoticevilbakugo @luckypurins @glovesandhorror @xoxostarlet @illsksm @echo1200 @d3adp00ls @woahhajime @leonkennedygvrl @elliewilliamshotwife

[pasukiyo]

taglist glitched again, i’m so sorry 😭😭😭 still hope you’re all able to find this one okay! for some reason, since this is a scheduled post, it doesn’t wanna tag the last six of you properly 😭

LEECH: ALL AROUND ME

| a collection of one-shots. collection masterlist.

DISCLAIMER: this fic is simply a work of fiction and is in no way, shape, or form claiming to be a reflection of how leon kennedy is canonically portrayed as a character. this is an au, meaning it is an alternate reality written for fun, so please heed this warning and keep it in mind while you read.

** none of these fics necessarily need to be read in any sort of order **

— to join the taglist, follow the link here and choose "leon kennedy" in the character list.

collection songbook

leon kennedy x fem!reader word count; 3,031 warnings; leon is a stalker, themes of dark!leon, smut, masturbation (both m & f), alcohol use, allusions to oral (f receiving), spit play? summary; long shifts two days in a row apparently called for drunken measures. she knew it had to be because she was drunk that she was breaking her routine, that she was thinking about leon kennedy again, that her hand was slipping between her thighs, that she could feel him all around her...

 Ghosts haunted the long hallway leading to her apartment door. They lingered in the shadows, watching her as she walked by, their gazes like insects crawling on her skin. She was too tired to fully acknowledge them now but they were there, she could feel them all around her. 

 For now, she fumbled around with her key, circling the hole in the knob through half-lidded eyes until it finally entered the lock. The door squeaked as she stepped into her apartment, kicking her foot back against it to close it again. Sleep weighed heavily on her eyelids and there was a crick in the back of her neck she desperately tried to rub out as she locked the door, groaning while she tossing her purse and keys atop the kitchen counter. 

 She shuffled her feet towards the refrigerator, squinting against the harsh, yellow light inside as she reached for the leftovers from the night prior. She was going through the motions— dumping the contents of the white styrofoam to-go box onto a plate, opening the microwave, setting the plate down, slamming the door closed, pressing the 1, 3, 5 buttons. 

 Nights after long shifts at the hospital were always spent like this. Barely able to feed herself properly through a numb mind, scarfing down the lukewarm food, tossing the styrofoam to-go box away, staggering into the bathroom, stripping herself of her scrubs, turning the knob of the shower all the way to the left until the water was hot enough to scorch her skin. 

 It was all routine and practically nothing could break her from it through her barely-cognizant mind. Nothing— although, she did wonder somewhere in the back of her mind whether or not she left her toothbrush on the edge of the sink rather than in its holder before she left that morning. 

 Her flesh pleasantly burned as she shut off the shower, wringing the water from her hair before wrapping herself in a towel, stepping onto the bathmat. She finished the rest of her routine— brushing her teeth, blow-drying her hair, tugging on a t-shirt and underwear. 

 She was completely numb to the world by the time she was finished and all she could think about was her bed. Nothing could distract her from her bed. Everything ceased to exist save for her bed. 

 She practically face-planted into the mattress, tugging the comforter over her body as a chill settled into her bones. It was cold, unusually cold but cold was nice— she could sleep better when it was cold. 

 Nothing could distract her from her bed, from the sleep that was finally coming to, so close now, it hovered over her like the moon over the sun in an eclipse. Nothing could pull her away from sleep now— although, she did wonder whether or not her closet door had been cracked when she left that morning. 

 Her shift was an hour less than the one she’d worked the previous day. 

 She wasn’t sure if she should’ve been celebrating, as working nine hours was practically the same as working ten, but she’d take the small-scale victory for what it was worth anyways. 

 “You drinking tonight?” A fellow nurse, Grace, asked as they both gathered their things. She blinked at her coworker, then past her where another nurse, Isa, stood, staring back expectantly. 

 “I just worked nine hours,” she informed, turning back to her locker to shovel the rest of her things in her bag. 

 “Perfect drinking measures, if you ask me,” Isa grinned, leaning a shoulder against the wall. Grace closed her locker, tittering an, “exactly.”

 She sighed as she slammed her own locker closed, huffing a lock of hair away from her face while she slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder. The two nurses gazed back with expectant looks— she had a feeling they wouldn’t be taking no for an answer. 

 “I should really catch up on sleep.”

 Grace and Isa rolled their eyes in unison, the latter reaching forward to give her elbow a shove with her own. 

 “Come on. Just one drink and then you can go home, okay?” Isa pinched her brows together, her eyes rounding in a look that made her curse beneath her breath. She knew she couldn’t say no now. 

 “Fine,” she grumbled. “One drink. And I’m not paying.”

 She had more than one drink. 

 One turned into two, two turned into three, and four had her stumbling over her own feet down the hall towards her door at a quarter past midnight. Ghosts still haunted the hallway, lingering in the shadows, watching her with eyes that made the hairs on the back of her neck perk. She turned and glared back, even though to nothing in particular. She huffed at the prickly feeling of being watched, muttering a string of curses beneath her breath while she fumbled with her key as she approached her door, seemingly unable to find the hole in it. 

 “Come on,” she groaned until finally, the key was in and she hastily turned the lock, stumbling. The door banged against the wall as she fell into the knob, cursing again as she slammed it back closed. She locked the door behind her and fell back against it with a huff, trying to blink the blurriness away from her drunken vision. 

 The cue in her brain that usually reminded her of her routine: eat leftovers from fridge, take shower, go to bed failed to function properly. Instead, images of memories embedded somewhere deep in her mind flashed, flooding her every sense until her entryway faded and she was back in the secret government training facility, knocking back a drink someone had snuck in. 

 She sat on a cot with her legs over someone’s bare lap, their fingers tracing patterns into her calves. When she swallowed down the bitter liquid and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, she blinked up at them to find they already stared back. 

 “Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked, leaning over to hand them back the flask. Leon’s full, pink lips curved into a soft smile as he brought the rim of the small container to his lips, taking a sip of its contents. 

 “Looking at you like what?” 

 She pursed her lips as she leaned back on her elbows, head lolling back towards the metal rods that made up the headboard. “Like you’re trying to get into my head,” she replied and Leon snorted, setting the cold bottom of the flask down on her knee, resting his other hand on the middle of her calf.

 “I’m not trying to get into your head,” he said, leaning his head back against the wall, green with muck. She narrowed her eyes, “right.” 

 She rolled her head around her neck, brow pinched as her gaze found his again. Her eyes trailed from his down to the breadth of his shoulders, to his toned chest and stomach. There was an angry swelling in the crook of his neck and she pushed herself up to lean over towards him. Leon’s blue stare followed her hand as it reached for the mark, his breath hitching for but a mere moment when her fingertips touched his skin, his grip tighter around the metal flask.

 “It’s so red,” she noted and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was bordering on drunk that she was so entranced in this little, dark bite, but all she could really gather was that something about it made her feel… good. There was something so enthralling about having made a mark upon another’s skin, something that felt so potent. The blemish she’d made on his skin in a way made him hers, made it feel real. 

 “It doesn’t hurt,” Leon said, his eyes trailing up from her arm, past her naked breasts, up to her face. She blinked up at him, finger still on his pulse point, feeling it throb beneath her. It’s beat was irregular to her own heart but still, it beat for her, because of her, nonetheless. Leon’s flesh grew hot underneath her fingertip, like she was the match rubbing and igniting against him. 

 In a way, she really was. There was something about the way Leon felt, the way he looked at her, the way he smelled that had her center throbbing, flooding with liquid warmth. Her belly was melting and she felt like her entire body was on fire, unable to extinguish if she didn’t have him all over her. 

 She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his, his tongue eager and already feeling around her mouth. She already felt his hands circling around her waist— the flask toppling to the ground from over the side of the bed— pulling her in closer, her legs slithering around his hips. Her arms rounded his neck and she used them as leverage to allow herself to draw even further into him, deepening their kiss. 

 Leon kissed her with a fervor she’d felt from no one else before. He kissed her like she was his lifeline, like her lips were the tourniquet holding him together. He kissed her like he planned to infect, to invade her every sense and corrupt like a parasite. He was the sickness injecting itself into her veins and wearing down her bones but when he kissed her like that, she couldn’t find it within herself to care. 

 She canted her hips in his lap, feeling his erection beneath her ass, covered by the thin, fleece blanket on top of his legs. Leon hissed through his teeth as they pulled away for a moment of breath, a thin string of saliva bridging their mouths together. She glanced between it and back to the hazy storm in his eyes, dipping her chin to follow the line of spit back to his mouth, pulling him in for more. 

 One of Leon’s hands ventured from her waist, all the way up her back to her neck, creeping into the hair on the back of her head, his fingers woven in the tresses there. With a firm yank, her lips were pried off of his and she gasped, chin dripping with spit, another bridge of saliva drooping low towards their laps. 

 “Open,” Leon panted, the pad of his thumb not in her hair prying at her bottom lip. She complied, lips falling open and she watched as he gathered saliva on the tip of his tongue, leaning in closer to spit into her mouth. She hummed at his taste, stared into his eyes and he watched the lump in her throat bob as she swallowed. “Fuck.”

 There still remained a bridge of spittle between their mouths and she watched from the bottom of her lids as Leon copied her actions from before— following the trail of spit until his lips were on her chin, sucking the saliva that coated her skin there. 

 Her lips fell agape in a gasp, eyes rolling in the back of her head as his mouth left a slimy trail of spittle down her throat, lapping at the oasis between her neck and shoulder. It was so filthy, being kissed like this but fuck, she wanted more of it. She wanted more of his spit on her skin, more of his tongue swirling on her flesh, more of his teeth etching marks into her body, more of his saliva down her throat. 

 Leon’s tongue whirled to the crook of her neck, the same place where she’d left a mark on him and pressed soft, tender kisses there. She could feel him breathe against her skin, his breath warm and making her saliva-coated flesh bump with chills. The palm of one of her hands smoothed over his chest, trailing all the way up to his shoulder and around his neck just as his teeth sunk into the flesh at the base of her throat, her fingers woven through the dark blonde locks at the nape of his neck, tugging. 

 “Oh… f..fuck,” she gasped as he sucked her skin, pressing his tongue flat to the mark he’d etched there. Her head was still tipped back and Leon used the hand curled around to the back of it to force her gaze down to his. Her eyelids fluttered open and Leon stared back through heavy, hooded lids, the blue in his irises so dark they were nearly gray, like the sky in a storm. 

 Her chest heaved in tandem with her breaths, feeling so entranced in the way his gaze seemed to draw her in like the sea in stormy weather. She was in the midst of his ocean, being drawn in further away from the shore the longer she stared. 

 “You’re so beautiful,” Leon murmured, glancing between her eyes and her lips as the hand not on the back of her head fell down to her lap, soothing patterns into the soft flesh of her thigh. She could feel her heart skip a couple of beats as his palm slipped between them, within mere centimeters from her heat. 

 She couldn’t look away from him. There was something so strangely haunting about the way Leon looked at her and she wasn’t sure if it was because they were both a few swigs of drink in, but there was something poignant in the murky waters of his stare. There was something about Leon Kennedy she hadn’t quite figured out yet, she knew this much. But the mystery of this man was alluring, like his story was calling out to her as if it were a siren and she was a sailor at sea. She could already feel it pulling her down, sinking further until her head was near-fully submerged in water. 

 As his fingertips brushed against her aching clit, she vowed that whatever it was calling out to her within Leon Kennedy, she would find it. 

 The pads of Leon’s middle and forefingers spun circles against her bud and she hissed. 

 But Leon Kennedy’s story would have to wait for now. 

 Burning hot pleasure blazed her skin as the memory began to fade, but still, that bliss remained, even as her vision began to clear and she was back in the one bedroom apartment she called home. There was a searing ache between her legs and she could already feel her slick begin to pool in her underwear. Her legs shook with the sheer power of her arousal and she gasped, lunging forward to grasp the edge of the kitchen counter. 

 She knew it was the alcohol making her feel these things, reigniting whatever sort of feeling she had for Leon Kennedy. It’d been months since the last time she’d seen him, anyways. He was but a ghost now, a distant, faint memory buried somewhere deep in the archives of her mind. 

 She knew it had to be because she was drunk that she was stripping herself naked and slipping into bed, leaning back against the headboard. She knew it had to be because she was drunk that her hand was sliding down between her legs, that her fingers were rubbing in all the places Leon’s once were. She knew it had to be because she was drunk that all she could think about was Leon: Leon’s hands, Leon’s fingers, Leon’s skin, Leon’s face. She could feel him all around her, possessing her, corrupting her like an infection until she couldn’t even think straight. He was circling like a vulture, thickening the air she was breathing and holding on to her every feeling, locking her in, trapping her. 

 She knew it had to be because she was drunk that her mouth fell open as she tossed her head back against the headboard, arching her back, rubbing her fingers over her clit harder and harder, Leon’s name tumbling from her lips. She knew it had to be because she was drunk that she was coming, that white hot bliss was shooting straight through her and out her pussy, envisioning Leon’s face between her thighs, letting not a single drop of her orgasm go to waste. 

 She knew it had to be because she was drunk that she swore she could hear something come from the closet across the room. Did she leave it closed like that when she left that morning? She knew it had to be because she was drunk that she didn’t care, not in the moment. All she could think to do was close her eyes and let the memory of Leon Kennedy coax her down from her high. 

 Leon sunk his teeth deeper into the plush of his bottom lip to stifle the sounds threatening to come out. He used one hand to steady himself against the wall, the other to fist his cock, pumping himself harder and harder in rhythm to her fingers’ ministrations against her clit. His name was slipping from between her lips and she was spread out on the bed like the incarnation of all of Leon’s vices. 

 There was a knot of pressure building in his sack, being strung forward with each sharp tug of his hand on his cock. He was so close, so dangerously close that he could feel it, could see it, could taste it. All he had to do was wait a moment longer, just one small second…

 “Oh… oh shit, fuck! Fuck, Leon! Ri… right there!” She cried out and Leon’s eyes snapped open, watching from the slivers of openings in the closet door as her toes curled and her back arched, finally coming to her release. That knot slipped and he practically exploded into the palm of his hand, clamping his mouth closed with his opposite, willing himself to stay quiet. 

 Once the aftershocks of his prolonged orgasm began to fade, he leaned against the wall of the closet, trying to catch his breath as quietly as possible. He peeked through the openings in the closet door as her eyelids began to flutter closed, her heaving chest slowing until she slipped into the arms of slumber. 

 Leon sighed— there was only one thought that circulated his mind now.

 She still thought about him.

a/n; i wrote the last like 1500 words while sitting in my bed, fan turned up to high, freezing my ass off 😃 i've found that i'm more satisfied with the outcome of my writing whenever i make myself physically uncomfortable to the point its nearly unbearable LMFAOOO

anyways! i really enjoyed writing this one and i really hope you all enjoy reading it! i'm feeling really excited to write more for the leech collection 🤭

💿 if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the entire world to me 🫶

TAGLIST

@corruptcoder @chaoticevilbakugo @luckypurins @glovesandhorror @xoxostarlet @illsksm @echo1200 @d3adp00ls @woahhajime @leonkennedygvrl @elliewilliamshotwife

[pasukiyo]

THE LEECH COLLECTION SONGBOOK

| a collection of one-shots' playlist // to be updated

LEECH COLLECTION MASTERLIST

💿 // PLAYLIST;

ALL AROUND ME // FLYLEAF

[pasukiyo]

LEECH: ALL AROUND ME

| a collection of one-shots. collection masterlist.

DISCLAIMER: this fic is simply a work of fiction and is in no way, shape, or form claiming to be a reflection of how leon kennedy is canonically portrayed as a character. this is an au, meaning it is an alternate reality written for fun, so please heed this warning and keep it in mind while you read.

** none of these fics necessarily need to be read in any sort of order **

— to join the taglist, follow the link here and choose "leon kennedy" in the character list.

collection songbook

leon kennedy x fem!reader word count; 3,031 warnings; leon is a stalker, themes of dark!leon, smut, masturbation (both m & f), alcohol use, allusions to oral (f receiving), spit play? summary; long shifts two days in a row apparently called for drunken measures. she knew it had to be because she was drunk that she was breaking her routine, that she was thinking about leon kennedy again, that her hand was slipping between her thighs, that she could feel him all around her...

 Ghosts haunted the long hallway leading to her apartment door. They lingered in the shadows, watching her as she walked by, their gazes like insects crawling on her skin. She was too tired to fully acknowledge them now but they were there, she could feel them all around her. 

 For now, she fumbled around with her key, circling the hole in the knob through half-lidded eyes until it finally entered the lock. The door squeaked as she stepped into her apartment, kicking her foot back against it to close it again. Sleep weighed heavily on her eyelids and there was a crick in the back of her neck she desperately tried to rub out as she locked the door, groaning while she tossing her purse and keys atop the kitchen counter. 

 She shuffled her feet towards the refrigerator, squinting against the harsh, yellow light inside as she reached for the leftovers from the night prior. She was going through the motions— dumping the contents of the white styrofoam to-go box onto a plate, opening the microwave, setting the plate down, slamming the door closed, pressing the 1, 3, 5 buttons. 

 Nights after long shifts at the hospital were always spent like this. Barely able to feed herself properly through a numb mind, scarfing down the lukewarm food, tossing the styrofoam to-go box away, staggering into the bathroom, stripping herself of her scrubs, turning the knob of the shower all the way to the left until the water was hot enough to scorch her skin. 

 It was all routine and practically nothing could break her from it through her barely-cognizant mind. Nothing— although, she did wonder somewhere in the back of her mind whether or not she left her toothbrush on the edge of the sink rather than in its holder before she left that morning. 

 Her flesh pleasantly burned as she shut off the shower, wringing the water from her hair before wrapping herself in a towel, stepping onto the bathmat. She finished the rest of her routine— brushing her teeth, blow-drying her hair, tugging on a t-shirt and underwear. 

 She was completely numb to the world by the time she was finished and all she could think about was her bed. Nothing could distract her from her bed. Everything ceased to exist save for her bed. 

 She practically face-planted into the mattress, tugging the comforter over her body as a chill settled into her bones. It was cold, unusually cold but cold was nice— she could sleep better when it was cold. 

 Nothing could distract her from her bed, from the sleep that was finally coming to, so close now, it hovered over her like the moon over the sun in an eclipse. Nothing could pull her away from sleep now— although, she did wonder whether or not her closet door had been cracked when she left that morning. 

 Her shift was an hour less than the one she’d worked the previous day. 

 She wasn’t sure if she should’ve been celebrating, as working nine hours was practically the same as working ten, but she’d take the small-scale victory for what it was worth anyways. 

 “You drinking tonight?” A fellow nurse, Grace, asked as they both gathered their things. She blinked at her coworker, then past her where another nurse, Isa, stood, staring back expectantly. 

 “I just worked nine hours,” she informed, turning back to her locker to shovel the rest of her things in her bag. 

 “Perfect drinking measures, if you ask me,” Isa grinned, leaning a shoulder against the wall. Grace closed her locker, tittering an, “exactly.”

 She sighed as she slammed her own locker closed, huffing a lock of hair away from her face while she slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder. The two nurses gazed back with expectant looks— she had a feeling they wouldn’t be taking no for an answer. 

 “I should really catch up on sleep.”

 Grace and Isa rolled their eyes in unison, the latter reaching forward to give her elbow a shove with her own. 

 “Come on. Just one drink and then you can go home, okay?” Isa pinched her brows together, her eyes rounding in a look that made her curse beneath her breath. She knew she couldn’t say no now. 

 “Fine,” she grumbled. “One drink. And I’m not paying.”

 She had more than one drink. 

 One turned into two, two turned into three, and four had her stumbling over her own feet down the hall towards her door at a quarter past midnight. Ghosts still haunted the hallway, lingering in the shadows, watching her with eyes that made the hairs on the back of her neck perk. She turned and glared back, even though to nothing in particular. She huffed at the prickly feeling of being watched, muttering a string of curses beneath her breath while she fumbled with her key as she approached her door, seemingly unable to find the hole in it. 

 “Come on,” she groaned until finally, the key was in and she hastily turned the lock, stumbling. The door banged against the wall as she fell into the knob, cursing again as she slammed it back closed. She locked the door behind her and fell back against it with a huff, trying to blink the blurriness away from her drunken vision. 

��The cue in her brain that usually reminded her of her routine: eat leftovers from fridge, take shower, go to bed failed to function properly. Instead, images of memories embedded somewhere deep in her mind flashed, flooding her every sense until her entryway faded and she was back in the secret government training facility, knocking back a drink someone had snuck in. 

 She sat on a cot with her legs over someone’s bare lap, their fingers tracing patterns into her calves. When she swallowed down the bitter liquid and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, she blinked up at them to find they already stared back. 

 “Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked, leaning over to hand them back the flask. Leon’s full, pink lips curved into a soft smile as he brought the rim of the small container to his lips, taking a sip of its contents. 

 “Looking at you like what?” 

 She pursed her lips as she leaned back on her elbows, head lolling back towards the metal rods that made up the headboard. “Like you’re trying to get into my head,” she replied and Leon snorted, setting the cold bottom of the flask down on her knee, resting his other hand on the middle of her calf.

 “I’m not trying to get into your head,” he said, leaning his head back against the wall, green with muck. She narrowed her eyes, “right.” 

 She rolled her head around her neck, brow pinched as her gaze found his again. Her eyes trailed from his down to the breadth of his shoulders, to his toned chest and stomach. There was an angry swelling in the crook of his neck and she pushed herself up to lean over towards him. Leon’s blue stare followed her hand as it reached for the mark, his breath hitching for but a mere moment when her fingertips touched his skin, his grip tighter around the metal flask.

 “It’s so red,” she noted and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was bordering on drunk that she was so entranced in this little, dark bite, but all she could really gather was that something about it made her feel… good. There was something so enthralling about having made a mark upon another’s skin, something that felt so potent. The blemish she’d made on his skin in a way made him hers, made it feel real. 

 “It doesn’t hurt,” Leon said, his eyes trailing up from her arm, past her naked breasts, up to her face. She blinked up at him, finger still on his pulse point, feeling it throb beneath her. It’s beat was irregular to her own heart but still, it beat for her, because of her, nonetheless. Leon’s flesh grew hot underneath her fingertip, like she was the match rubbing and igniting against him. 

 In a way, she really was. There was something about the way Leon felt, the way he looked at her, the way he smelled that had her center throbbing, flooding with liquid warmth. Her belly was melting and she felt like her entire body was on fire, unable to extinguish if she didn’t have him all over her. 

 She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his, his tongue eager and already feeling around her mouth. She already felt his hands circling around her waist— the flask toppling to the ground from over the side of the bed— pulling her in closer, her legs slithering around his hips. Her arms rounded his neck and she used them as leverage to allow herself to draw even further into him, deepening their kiss. 

 Leon kissed her with a fervor she’d felt from no one else before. He kissed her like she was his lifeline, like her lips were the tourniquet holding him together. He kissed her like he planned to infect, to invade her every sense and corrupt like a parasite. He was the sickness injecting itself into her veins and wearing down her bones but when he kissed her like that, she couldn’t find it within herself to care. 

 She canted her hips in his lap, feeling his erection beneath her ass, covered by the thin, fleece blanket on top of his legs. Leon hissed through his teeth as they pulled away for a moment of breath, a thin string of saliva bridging their mouths together. She glanced between it and back to the hazy storm in his eyes, dipping her chin to follow the line of spit back to his mouth, pulling him in for more. 

 One of Leon’s hands ventured from her waist, all the way up her back to her neck, creeping into the hair on the back of her head, his fingers woven in the tresses there. With a firm yank, her lips were pried off of his and she gasped, chin dripping with spit, another bridge of saliva drooping low towards their laps. 

 “Open,” Leon panted, the pad of his thumb not in her hair prying at her bottom lip. She complied, lips falling open and she watched as he gathered saliva on the tip of his tongue, leaning in closer to spit into her mouth. She hummed at his taste, stared into his eyes and he watched the lump in her throat bob as she swallowed. “Fuck.”

 There still remained a bridge of spittle between their mouths and she watched from the bottom of her lids as Leon copied her actions from before— following the trail of spit until his lips were on her chin, sucking the saliva that coated her skin there. 

 Her lips fell agape in a gasp, eyes rolling in the back of her head as his mouth left a slimy trail of spittle down her throat, lapping at the oasis between her neck and shoulder. It was so filthy, being kissed like this but fuck, she wanted more of it. She wanted more of his spit on her skin, more of his tongue swirling on her flesh, more of his teeth etching marks into her body, more of his saliva down her throat. 

 Leon’s tongue whirled to the crook of her neck, the same place where she’d left a mark on him and pressed soft, tender kisses there. She could feel him breathe against her skin, his breath warm and making her saliva-coated flesh bump with chills. The palm of one of her hands smoothed over his chest, trailing all the way up to his shoulder and around his neck just as his teeth sunk into the flesh at the base of her throat, her fingers woven through the dark blonde locks at the nape of his neck, tugging. 

 “Oh… f..fuck,” she gasped as he sucked her skin, pressing his tongue flat to the mark he’d etched there. Her head was still tipped back and Leon used the hand curled around to the back of it to force her gaze down to his. Her eyelids fluttered open and Leon stared back through heavy, hooded lids, the blue in his irises so dark they were nearly gray, like the sky in a storm. 

 Her chest heaved in tandem with her breaths, feeling so entranced in the way his gaze seemed to draw her in like the sea in stormy weather. She was in the midst of his ocean, being drawn in further away from the shore the longer she stared. 

 “You’re so beautiful,” Leon murmured, glancing between her eyes and her lips as the hand not on the back of her head fell down to her lap, soothing patterns into the soft flesh of her thigh. She could feel her heart skip a couple of beats as his palm slipped between them, within mere centimeters from her heat. 

 She couldn’t look away from him. There was something so strangely haunting about the way Leon looked at her and she wasn’t sure if it was because they were both a few swigs of drink in, but there was something poignant in the murky waters of his stare. There was something about Leon Kennedy she hadn’t quite figured out yet, she knew this much. But the mystery of this man was alluring, like his story was calling out to her as if it were a siren and she was a sailor at sea. She could already feel it pulling her down, sinking further until her head was near-fully submerged in water. 

 As his fingertips brushed against her aching clit, she vowed that whatever it was calling out to her within Leon Kennedy, she would find it. 

 The pads of Leon’s middle and forefingers spun circles against her bud and she hissed. 

 But Leon Kennedy’s story would have to wait for now. 

 Burning hot pleasure blazed her skin as the memory began to fade, but still, that bliss remained, even as her vision began to clear and she was back in the one bedroom apartment she called home. There was a searing ache between her legs and she could already feel her slick begin to pool in her underwear. Her legs shook with the sheer power of her arousal and she gasped, lunging forward to grasp the edge of the kitchen counter. 

 She knew it was the alcohol making her feel these things, reigniting whatever sort of feeling she had for Leon Kennedy. It’d been months since the last time she’d seen him, anyways. He was but a ghost now, a distant, faint memory buried somewhere deep in the archives of her mind. 

 She knew it had to be because she was drunk that she was stripping herself naked and slipping into bed, leaning back against the headboard. She knew it had to be because she was drunk that her hand was sliding down between her legs, that her fingers were rubbing in all the places Leon’s once were. She knew it had to be because she was drunk that all she could think about was Leon: Leon’s hands, Leon’s fingers, Leon’s skin, Leon’s face. She could feel him all around her, possessing her, corrupting her like an infection until she couldn’t even think straight. He was circling like a vulture, thickening the air she was breathing and holding on to her every feeling, locking her in, trapping her. 

 She knew it had to be because she was drunk that her mouth fell open as she tossed her head back against the headboard, arching her back, rubbing her fingers over her clit harder and harder, Leon’s name tumbling from her lips. She knew it had to be because she was drunk that she was coming, that white hot bliss was shooting straight through her and out her pussy, envisioning Leon’s face between her thighs, letting not a single drop of her orgasm go to waste. 

 She knew it had to be because she was drunk that she swore she could hear something come from the closet across the room. Did she leave it closed like that when she left that morning? She knew it had to be because she was drunk that she didn’t care, not in the moment. All she could think to do was close her eyes and let the memory of Leon Kennedy coax her down from her high. 

 Leon sunk his teeth deeper into the plush of his bottom lip to stifle the sounds threatening to come out. He used one hand to steady himself against the wall, the other to fist his cock, pumping himself harder and harder in rhythm to her fingers’ ministrations against her clit. His name was slipping from between her lips and she was spread out on the bed like the incarnation of all of Leon’s vices. 

 There was a knot of pressure building in his sack, being strung forward with each sharp tug of his hand on his cock. He was so close, so dangerously close that he could feel it, could see it, could taste it. All he had to do was wait a moment longer, just one small second…

 “Oh… oh shit, fuck! Fuck, Leon! Ri… right there!” She cried out and Leon’s eyes snapped open, watching from the slivers of openings in the closet door as her toes curled and her back arched, finally coming to her release. That knot slipped and he practically exploded into the palm of his hand, clamping his mouth closed with his opposite, willing himself to stay quiet. 

 Once the aftershocks of his prolonged orgasm began to fade, he leaned against the wall of the closet, trying to catch his breath as quietly as possible. He peeked through the openings in the closet door as her eyelids began to flutter closed, her heaving chest slowing until she slipped into the arms of slumber. 

 Leon sighed— there was only one thought that circulated his mind now.

 She still thought about him.

a/n; i wrote the last like 1500 words while sitting in my bed, fan turned up to high, freezing my ass off 😃 i've found that i'm more satisfied with the outcome of my writing whenever i make myself physically uncomfortable to the point its nearly unbearable LMFAOOO

anyways! i really enjoyed writing this one and i really hope you all enjoy reading it! i'm feeling really excited to write more for the leech collection 🤭

💿 if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the entire world to me 🫶

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