#Leon Kennedy ns/ft

[leon-kennedys-boytoy]

as long as I have a face he has a seat

[vaaaaaiolet]

When you run out of his work summit on the brink of tears, you can't believe that Leon hasn't picked up on how he hurt you. His only option is to apologize, but you're not listening to a word he says. So he'll just have to make you watch.

mdni i'm so serious. married f / m smut where porn is the plot THERE'S LORE I SWEAR, sour then sweet dom leon, mirror sex, EMOTIONS, aftercare :3 + 1 bad pun

a/n: anon req'd reader w/ praise kink. i really thought i did something and then i read it and i wanted to die. it isn't my writing if i don't try turning smut into shitty poetry.

word count: 2.9k // read on ao3

“I’m apologizing now, aren’t I?”

“A little late for that, Agent Kennedy,” you seethe. 

Your metronome heels keep time with the irate pounding of your heartbeat. This California Ritz-Carlton hallway stretches like the goddamn Shining and you can’t seem to get away fast enough from your husband. He’s too damn good at his job, and you’re too smart to pretend that this dance the two of you are playing at is anything but a distraction, an impediment.

You are a distraction. You’ve been an unwelcome one all night.

So you’d cut it short yourself.

One keycard slice through the sensor and the sanctuary of your hotel room opens up to you, messy with the aftermath of black-tie preparation. You step up to the vanity; plant your palms on its wooden surface and stare straight ahead as if to admire your ruined mascara. It’s a formality, really. It’s not as if you need the mirror to remind you what happened in this room. Tonight began with indulgent kisses afraid to smudge dress shirt collars, hands squeezed for courage, Leon in perpetual pursuit of the train of your gown. Big dreams.

“You wanna talk? We can talk.” Leon shuts the door with an exasperated sigh. “Don’t make this difficult, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t do a damn thing,” you hiss. You stare daggers at his reflection.

“Really?” His shoulders drop. “Then what was all that with the storming off, the- oh baby, don’t look at me like that.” 

Leon’s arms wrap around your middle while his nose buries itself in your diamond-laced neck. He’s good at that, that sneaking thing without leaving so much as a whisper to signal where he’s going. The higher-ups at the DSO call it stealth. You just want the man you married to tell you what the hell he’s doing before he makes a fool out of you. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I swear,” he whispers, kissing softly down your neck. “Didn’t mean it at all, I’m sorry. What’d I do?”

You scoff. 

He’s testing the waters. A rough thumb finds and starts running down the divot of your spine, thank you backless Mirror Palais ballgown. Pass the smoking gun back and forth, pretend not to see the shrapnel from the bullet holes. You don’t pay Leon any heed as you stoically unhook diamond pendants from your ears, and he frowns.

“I said I was sorry.” 

“I shouldn’t need to tell you what you did, Leon.” 

Shame simmers sickly and strong in the pit of your stomach. You teeter on the edge of snapping altogether and consider throwing his blankets on the floor for the night – you will, actually, as soon you take off all your evening regalia. In your haste, your nails end up nicking Leon’s nose when he tries to murmur another weightless apology.

The kisses stop leaching onto your collarbone. “Don’t play this game with me, sweetheart.” 

“So now you’re calling me immature?”   

“Isn’t that what you call running out of my work summit? Making me chase you down?” Leon counters, running his hands down your sides in a last-ditch effort to diffuse the situation. Thinly-veiled irritation finally seeps into his tone. “What exactly did I do?”

And gosh, does that get the tears going. He’s so blind it hurts.

You tug pins furiously out of your hair in an effort to keep an impending outburst at bay. “You practically had me on a leash!”

Not once had he let you out of his sight in that dreadful ballroom. In front of all those international representatives and agents, people whose reputations preceded them, Leon had kept you attached to him with a heavy hand on your waist, glued to his hip like an untrustworthy child he’d lose track of at a supermarket. Coughs had quickly turned to snickers behind your back. You’re no agent, sure, but you could expect to have some kind of autonomy, right? 

The guest badge you’d flung over the hotel room bed glints tauntingly now, respected by every security detail except the one whose chest your back is currently pressed against. It’s humiliating how untrustworthy, how incapable he made you look tonight.

Leon blinks. “You’re saying I think you can’t handle yourself?”

“You don’t have to. You showed me all night.” 

Tears drip down your cheeks when he relents, his arms lifting like fog over the Golden Gate, and if you’re finally free from his clutches, you might as well take off this suffocating dress. It’s gauzy and gorgeous and completely worthless despite the stack of bills Leon paid for it, however giddy you’d been when he’d brought it home. 

If only you could reach the tiny zipper perched on your tailbone. 

Leon, ever the perceptive one, however, never passes up an opening whether it be zipped or not. He’s got a handy index and thumb; he puts them to use. He’s your husband after all. 

“Right, okay,” he exhales sharply, tugging the chain as your back bows forward, “I did this all wrong. I thought you’d catch on when I should’ve just shown you instead.”

“Show me what?”

A hand inside your newly agape gown. A palm pivoting south to the curve of your hip, pressing, searching. Leon presses his lips to your neck in answer, but this time, it’s urgent in a way that doesn’t quite feel like remorse. He hisses.

“Tell me to stop and I fucking will, but this is my last resort considering how bad I seem to be with my words, sweetheart. How many times have I told you I’m sorry?”

“You-”

A squeeze on your hip. A direction. 

“I need a number.”

The door, your neck, seconds ago.

“...three.”

“And not one of them made it inside that pretty head of yours,” Leon scowls. “Doesn’t look like words are either of our strong suits. Chin up for me, doll, and pay attention ‘cause I’m only asking this once.”

So you do, you lift your face to meet mascara-rimmed eyes in the mirror along with Leon’s sapphire-blue ones that glint right behind, and his palm drifts up to cup your jaw from underneath. He tilts it back and forth. Kisses his teeth. 

“Tell me. How am I supposed to let my wife loose in a room full of criminals just like that?”

What?

Leon circles your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, pulling away quickly. Too early to indulge in this kind of affection. “Thought I asked you something, doll.”

But you hesitate, and so Leon must disappear. His final instructions are to face forward.

He dives to the floor, locking rough fingers around your ankles only to slide them up to the backs of your shins. He goes under so quick that there’s a breeze; you’re granted mere seconds to watch Leon’s blond head duck underneath the floor-length train of your dress and by then, it’s far too late to notice the fire. 

Leon loves starting those.

He also doesn’t wait. Invisible flames lick up your bare legs from Leon’s dragon mouth. Red hot kisses trail up your thighs – he drops a sweet one on the inside of your right knee, makes you buckle momentarily – and these stubbled kisses of his have a tendency to sear any skin on their skyward path. You can’t remember when your elbows propped themselves on the vanity, out of instinct, maybe, to keep the floor of your stomach from falling out at the very first sneak of Leon’s tongue inside the drenched lace gusset of your panties. 

But you can’t afford to be surprised, can you? Not with the line of destruction he’s left behind on his way to his destination. They say it takes one to know one. 

You clutch the edge of the vanity’s shelf, suck down sobs in your throat fluttering into something indecent.

“I need you to talk to me,” he whispers with his lips pressed to your pussy. The vibration echoes up your spine, jerks your head back. “You’re all clammed up. Keeping secrets.”

Air gushes down your throat. “And you’re not?” 

“Of course I am, baby, but I’m explaining, aren’t I?” 

Kiss. Kiss. Suck. 

You keen with your mouth shut.

He noses at your clit, prompting you. “So, where’s your explanation?”

Another quality the DSO prides itself on is your husband’s ability to sweet-talk himself out of a tight spot. That seems to includes in between your legs. Your thighs clench together in a final attempt of defiance when his mouth makes contact with your cunt. Your reflection in the mirror starts to swim at the first swirl of Leon’s tongue, and he makes quick work of you with his goal being none other than to dangle the promise of more to come, literally. 

Thumbs tuck into sensitive folds, and you’re gone. Shaking at the first breach of Leon’s fingers inside you. You spread apart at his will. He dips into arousal now impossible to ignore, and when sparks finally light at the hot air Leon blows over your spasming pussy, he commits his second unforgivable sin of the night: ducking right back out at the crest of your orgasm.

You have principles. The mirror reflects Leon’s swollen lips, tousled hair damp with you when he rises from his knees, and above all this, you clench your teeth. Face forward. 

He wipes his mouth.

“That’s one.” 

The other two remain rhetorical.

You’re being lifted bridal-style when the seal on your mouth finally breaks. “Leon,” you tremble in his arms, “where are we?” The summit, the people; you chase his mouth for any explanation. “You’re working with criminals now?” 

“Yes and no. Arms up,” Leon rasps, and tugs down what remains of your gown, crashes his mouth onto yours. 

You taste yourself in his kiss. Surely that’s not an answer, is it?

“Tonight was a mission,” he continues in his feverish haste, quickly laying your naked body onto the bed before kissing down your breasts.

Pride gets tossed on the floor next to your undergarments, his crumpled dress shirt. 

“The DSO couldn’t guarantee you wouldn’t become collateral for this assignment if things went south and I didn’t want to risk it. So I took you with me.” 

“You brought me to a- oh! ” 

Two thick fingers push into your sopping cunt. You squeal, clutch the sheets. Leon presses the ribbed flesh nestled deep inside you, carving out room for himself from his kneel at the foot of the bed. He gouges deep and you writhe. Your arousal shimmers on his fingers when he finally pulls them out and you find that have nothing to say about that.

“Go on,” he coos lowly. “Don’t get quiet now.” 

Your head whirls. “You sh-should’ve told me they were dangerous.”  

“And where do you think that would’ve gotten us, sweetheart? I didn’t want you panicking. Blowing cover. I had you to take care of and intel to gather, I couldn’t think straight myself. Letting you out of my sight could’ve meant losing you.”

Fuck. You don’t need a mirror to remember how antsy Leon had been before going down to the ballroom. 

Hands squeezed for courage. Hand on your waist. 

The vanilla and leather on his skin had reeked of nerves, and you? You’d written it off.

“I wanted to keep you safe.” Leon looks up at you now, eyes glinting in the dim light. There’s a new softness in their blue depths, a sincere apology. “I just wish you'd believe me.” 

By all intents and purposes, Leon Scott Kennedy is sorry.

There’s been a lapse in judgment. Your elbows sit you up from the bed to fix it. Cupping his cheek, you lean forward to meet Leon’s waiting mouth in a long overdue embrace, one he can melt into with relief. There’s no bitterness on your tongue now. Just sweetness in the seconds you take to breathe your forgiveness into him. The clink of his falling belt promises no punishment.

“But you can’t let me off the hook just yet,” Leon murmurs when he tugs free from your latch on his bottom lip, “I hurt you, angel, and I never wanted to. Tell me I can fix it.”

He can. Your husband can fix everything, the world included. You sigh your approval, yes, yes, more, because forgiveness feels incredible as he lays your shoulders down, sets your hips straight when you twist them the first time he teases his cock’s weeping head over the soaked seam of your pussy. 

“Don’t take your eyes off the mirror for a second,” Leon instructs.

He plants his palms on the sides of your head. You whimper; swear you won’t.

“I mean it. Watch yourself, and maybe then you’ll understand how crazy you drive me.”

So begins your descent. 

You’re drowning, crying for air when Leon sinks into the liquid warmth you’ve saved for him. There’s so much of him to take, tight, tight, tight – your mind is a melting record. You’re breaking. Can’t disappoint him again. When your overwhelmed cunt nearly pushes him out, Leon just chuckles. He cants his hips to compensate, goes at it again. That should be enough to tell you how the DSO’s finest agent never lets a detail go amiss. 

“The Belgium ambassador started tailing you by the fountain." 

And to your astonishment, he starts rattling off half the world map. 

“Got rid of him quick. Then there was a – oh, sweetheart, you’re gonna kill me – Swedish agent, don’t remember what I did to him.” 

A roll of his hips. Your nails down his back. 

“Someone from Germany tried to dose your champagne. Another from Argentina, shit,” his thrusts grow erratic the longer the list grows, “two from Russia, a Japanese spy – perfect fucking pussy, oh my God…”

Your husband takes you on a trip around the globe. He’d traveled to the ends of the earth in that ballroom, kept your back bulletproof with just his hand, the one that was once a collar to you. Turns out being a Kennedy puts you on a hitlist; makes your blood run blue. 

“Too much!” you sob.

You can’t take the responsibility. 

But here in the dark, here with Leon, there’s just pleasure. Opulence. The back of his head is a blond crown in the vanity mirror, the diamonds on your breasts sparkle with each bounce from Leon’s cock slamming home. Even the gooey mess you’re leaving on the chiseled marble of his lower stomach shimmers. War paint from a battle won for you.

Your head falls away from the mirror and Leon guides it back without losing his rhythm. “Mm-mm. You need to see your face when you break.” 

Never has a threat sounded so loving on anyone’s lips, you imagine. 

Your hands tangle into his hair, you grow quiet, you clench. You’re close. This, he can feel.

His lips curve into a weary grin. “Wanted you to see why I had eyes on my baby all night. My pretty girl, all mine.”

Lucky you. 

That somehow does you in. Every word of praise Leon utters makes it clear that no, he did trust you, does trust you. He trusted you enough to know you could hold your own in that lion’s den downstairs, trusts now that you’ll forgive him for a misstep born of love. And with that realization, your pleasure rides helium high. 

“Shit, Leon!” you cry.

Electric pressure builds in your sensitive bud, the one Leon rubs frantically now. Gasps from your wide open mouth sweeten the air like perfume and Leon wishes he could breathe it all in, you’re beautiful when he turns you into a wailing mess. All for him.  

“This one’s two, angel,” he groans when you flutter around him. No way. 

His cock had put you in a trance, so warm and filling is it inside you. You’d forgotten about the deal entirely. 

Your cries increase precariously in pitch. “Oh, please, please, you can’t, Leon, I have to-” 

“Hold on!” 

Leon presses you into the sheets one last time to free the pretty songbird singing his name. You sprout wings in the looking glass.

The afterglow is golden. The sunset is long gone but it glows in your hotel room all the same, wrapped in silk sheets and Leon’s arms.

“You’re beautiful like this, you know?” he hums, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. 

“What, all sweaty and gross?” You wouldn’t expect him to know. He’s gorgeous. Leon is gorgeous when he makes love to you.

He nods, laughing when you roll your eyes. “Really, you do. Enough that I had to spend half my mission clawing bad guys off you. But I got it finished, and so did you in the process, huh?” 

Leon drops a kiss to your forehead, murmuring one last I’m sorry, his fourth one.

Shit. 

You scramble to hide under the sheets, leaving him cocking his head after you in utter confusion. “Wait, wait, what’s the matter?”

“I can’t do any more, Leon, I’m gonna pass out.” 

“Do any…?”

“You only left off on two!” 

Leon snorts. You soon feel a warm press on the top of your head: a sugary, schoolboy-sweet kiss.

“There you go, baby. That’s three. Apology accepted?”

And when you poke your head out of the covers to give Leon a kiss of your own, you make sure he knows it’s for apology number four.

He shouldn’t be so surprised you noticed. It’s not like you can take your eyes off him either.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[papaleon]

I'm Still Full of the Love You Want

pairing: RE4R!Leon Kennedy x afab!Reader

wc: 2.4k

summary: Leon has come back from Spain and, on the advice of his therapist, he's learning to associate the bad memories with something good. That something happens to be you.

content: leon gets cuffed, p in v, oral (reader receiving), no protection (wrap it up guys), i just replayed resi4r and i can't get over leon being chained to the ceiling (inspo), leon is a good boy

18+ MDNI, this is literally just pwp

a/n: please be gentle, i haven't written fic in years, this post has a lot of my writing firsts including the perspective and the smut. it has been sorta proofread, all mistakes are my own. enjoy! <3

Leon let out a deep groan as you moved to straddle his unclothed thighs. The handcuffs you had just finished latching to the headboard clinked as he tested their strength. See, Leon had just returned from his mission in Spain. He was, of course, tight-lipped and bound by a very intimidating NDA to keep the details quiet. But, even though he wasn’t able to share the grisly details with you, you could read Leon like a book. He always wore his pain, anger, and anxiety in his eyes, as much as he’d hate to admit it. 

Right now though, his face only told of pleasure, and that was enough for you. You offered him a soft smile as you ground down onto the meat of his muscular thigh, pressing down just enough for him to feel your want. 

“C’mon baby, please.”

Leon’s work mandated therapist, Dr. Woolf, had recommended he work to associate the horrors and trauma he’d experienced with something positive. You were certain that Dr. Woolf did not intend those new associations to be with sex, in fact you had a few qualms with the whole thing but it was the only thing that seemed to help Leon. After years of witnessing the love of your life suffer with his own memories, day and night, you figured you’d do anything to help him. 

So here you both were, blue moonlight kissing warm candle light as it danced over both of your bodies. You had just finished stripping Leon down and cuffing him, wrists over his head, after a very lengthy discussion about limits and how this tied back to Spain. 

This wasn’t that bad, baby, I swear. You had stared at him as he spoke, looking for any hint of a lie. My gear was taken and we were chained to the ceiling. It could have been worse. He smirked at that. You had feigned indignation and lightly smacked his chest. This you could deal with. You knew he suffered much worse but you tried to leave your worries unspoken. 

He looked beautiful like this though, you thought as you ran your eyes over him. Leon Kennedy certainly had a reputation that preceded him. A rookie cop turned hardened agent, a bit of a sarcastic, stoic dickhead if you pissed him off, and a selfless protector. Someone you would want on your team but certainly never wanted to get on the bad side of. But you knew more. He had lived through so much strife and hardship, he was hidden behind years of trauma and survival instincts, but deep down he was a person who longed to be cared for and understood. You were more than happy to give that to him. 

“Darling, I need-“ Leon’s request stuck in his throat, hips kicking up, cock jumping as you ground down hard against his thigh. The pressure on your clit pulled a small sigh out of you. You started to pick up your pace, riding his thigh in earnest now. 

“What do you need, hmm?” You smiled wide at Leon, his hands flexing as he tried to move to touch you. He let out a frustrated groan. 

“Need to see you, s-since I can’t touch.” You dropped your eyes, scanning over Leon’s naked body, still covered in scars and healing bruises. Your gaze stopped at his cock, hard and lying up against his toned stomach. You could see how flushed the tip looked, slick pre-cum dripping, pooling where his cock met skin. Your mouth watered, you simply couldn’t help it. A very vocal part of you wanted to lean down, lap up his mess and take him into your mouth. Later, you promised yourself. 

You, of course, were still dressed. You wanted to give Leon a show. These ‘re-associations’ were to be as involved and lengthy as possible, Dr. Woolf had mentioned. Anything to give Leon’s mind more incentive to replace the bad with the good.

“You wanna see me?” You teased as you ran your hands along your body, fingers teasing under the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing - stolen from Leon’s drawer.

“Fuck, yeah please l-let me see you angel,” Leon nodded fervently, his words were starting to slur together slightly. You always liked seeing Leon lose his poise and control, your strong-willed boyfriend squirming and begging underneath you. It didn’t happen often but you relished in the moments Leon would let you in like that, let you take care of him, show you his trust. “…shit baby you look so good in my clothes.” 

“Okay baby, you’re such a good boy for asking.” You smirked as you swung your legs over to kneel next to Leon, needing to remove your lounge clothes. He whined and bucked his hips at the loss of contact, your own slick shiny and cooling on his thigh. Leon just stared at you hungrily. He’d been so patient for you, so good, so you teased the hem of the t-shirt before pulling it off in one quick movement, dropping it off the side of the bed onto the floor. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Leon’s eyes darted to your chest, taking in the sight. You blushed lightly. Leon always looked at you like he wanted to devour you whole, like you were the only other person in the entire world, like he loved and desired nothing more than you. Wanting to hide your blushing cheeks, you leaned down quickly to kiss him, chaste and soft given the current circumstances. The chains rattled again as he moved to reach for you. 

“You’re so good to me,” You whispered as you sat up to pull your sleep shorts and panties down and off. You shuddered as the cold air met your soaked cunt. Leon went slack jawed, his cock jumping slightly off his belly. 

“‘Course sweet thing,” his voice was gruff, filled with want as he stared at your dripping core. You discarded your shorts onto the floor next to your top before moving to straddle Leon’s hips this time. You firmly dropped down to drag your slick cunt against Leon’s cock, the tip bumping against your clit. Leon moaned low and deep, his look of shock immediately replaced by his eyes rolling back into his head. Your own breathing started getting ragged, you wanted nothing more than to slip him inside but you had to control yourself, you really wanted to do this right, to make this last. 

“C’mon baby, ride me,” Leon’s hips pushed up, attempting to slide in whenever you bucked your hips forward. You shuddered, slowly but surely losing the will to tease. It was especially hard when Leon was looking up at you like that, like he was about to cry. “W-wanna make you come.” 

“Yeah?” You groaned loudly, losing the rest of any willpower you had before reaching down to line up his thick cock with your dripping hole. You slammed your hips down hard, a sharp smack mingled with the loud moans of you both. It burned, the sudden stretch, but that didn’t matter when Leon filled you up perfectly, you just couldn’t help it, you craved that feeling. You could see a flash of frustration in his eyes as you slowly started fucking yourself on him. You could feel him shift beneath you, feet planted on the mattress so he could find his own pace. You leaned forward, back arched as your chest met his as you tucked your face into his neck. 

“Thank you,  thank you, thank you-“ Leon chanted softly, groaning as he thrust up into your tight, wet cunt. The sounds were obscene, you felt impossibly wet, Leon’s pre-cum mixing with your slick. 

You finally gained your wits enough to push back into his thrusts, angling your own hips just right so each thrust hit the right spot. You had heard Leon wince as your nails dug into his shoulders, but it barely registered as you barrelled toward your own orgasm, hanging onto Leon like a lifeline.  

“Gonna … gonna come baby, you’re gonna make me come,” you felt Leon’s cock throb inside you as his own thrusts grew erratic. “Unlock the cuffs f’me darling, wanna touch” he squeezed his eyes shut, and let out a sigh. You stilled your hips, leaning over to the nightstand to grab the small key. Leon took advantage of your position to lap and bite at your nipple. You leaned into the sensation.

“L-leon please,” you reached over to unlock one of the cuffs finally allowing Leon’s hands down. He remained limp, pliant under you. 

That is, until you unlocked the second cuff. 

He pushed himself up quickly, slipping out of you, rolling you both over until he was firmly planted between your thighs and had you pinned down by your wrists. You were about to whine from the emptiness when you felt him slide back into you, bottoming out in one quick motion. 

Leon set a frantic pace from there, pushing your knees together and leaning over to press them to your chest, his eyes squeezed shut and eyebrows furrowed as you took him even deeper. You could feel the tip of his cock nudge against your cervix with every thrust, sending small sparks of pain through your abdomen, but it only made the fire in your belly grow hotter, made your skin tingle all over. 

“Ah, ah, ah, fuck, Leon!” You bit through gritted teeth, losing all the poise and confidence you had when you controlled the pace. Leon’s fingers intertwined with yours and you held on for dear life, unable to do 

“so fuh-fucking good for me baby, taking me so well,” Leon moaned. It took all the energy you had left to open your eyes just to see Leon lean closer, his soft hair falling over his brow and his jaw locked, willing every bit of his body not to let go yet, he wasn’t done with you. He leaned even closer to kiss you. “You were meant to take this cock right? Only you. Your pussy is so tight huh, angel? Fuck you were made for me weren’t you?” 

All you could do was nod dumbly, squeezing your eyes shut as the fire raged inside both of you. Leon was relentless, fucking into you hard and fast, like a man starved, every thrust hitting the perfect spot inside you. The pressure was building, and you couldn’t really hear what you were saying anymore, you were just babbling about how perfect your cock is, and fuck me, I love you. 

Leon’s pace started to falter, just as you felt your orgasm approaching, but that didn’t matter, as you felt him move to pull out. But you simply couldn’t have that. “No, no, no, no! Come in me Leon, baby, please!” You whined, squirming underneath him. “Wanna feel you, puh-lease, fuck!” 

Leon growled lowly, “You want my cum darling?” There was no more teasing as he lined his cock back up with your puffy, fucked out cunt. Yes, and please, fell out of your mouth like a chant even before he was finished the question. 

“Come in me please, Leon, ‘m close, so close.” And who was he to deny you a single thing? Leon grunted as he started up his brutal pace again, only managing several more thrusts before slamming into you, bottoming out, as he fucked his cum deep inside you. You clenched hard at the throbbing warmth, your soft, tight cunt milking every last drop out of Leon. 

“That’s right, good baby. Take it all. So good just f’me, hmm?” You moaned, nodding weakly, still trying to push your hips against his. The fire raged on in you, your cunt was begging for release. 

“Wanna come, make me come Leon, please, need it.” You whined, putting on the best pout you could manage. Leon chuckled lightly at the sight before pulling out and letting your legs down gently. You were about to complain when Leon leaned in to leave kisses all over the column of your throat, down to your breasts and over your soft stomach before he laid himself down between your legs. 

Your hands reached out to tangle in his hair as he started suckling little marks in the crease of your thigh, so close to where you needed him. 

“Duh-don’t tease,” you whispered, tugging lightly on his strands and bucking your hips up, hoping he’d take the hint. And so he did. You felt yourself melting into the mattress from the very first slow drag of his tongue. Leon seemed content fucking his cum even further into you with his tongue. You sighed and moaned and the fire in your belly burned bright again. You felt his fingers run their way up the inside of your thigh. He pushed two fingers inside, replacing his tongue, crooking them and fucking you, hard and fast. You felt the pressure building quickly, and your cunt squeezed down hard. 

“Gonna come Leon, you’re gonna make me co-“ Leon chose that very moment to latch his mouth over your poor, neglected clit and suck. You finally felt that heat snap as you came, gushing out all over Leon’s hand and face. He continued fucking you through it, the wet sounds positively obscene as your sensitive cunt twitched and dripped. Leon didn’t stop until you were twitching from overstimulation. You had to drag his face away by the iron grip you still had on his hair. He winced lightly as he moved up the bed to drape his body over you. “Sorry,” you whispered, easing up on his hair, followed by “Thank you.” 

“No, thank you!” Leon said as he nuzzled into your neck. You both just laid there, panting for a while, locked in a warm embrace. You dozed in and out of sleep, waking just enough to feel Leon starting to move his hips and feeling something warm and hard pressing up against your thigh.

“Really Leon?” You mumbled, amused. “Already?”

Leon just chuckled, pushing himself up to lean over you and line his hips up with you again, slowly sinking back into your wet, warm cunt. “Can you blame me?”

[vaaaaaiolet]

Leon gives beyond what's asked of him at both work and home, in excess. He's stressed, overworked; worrying you sick. So you teach him how to take. More or less.

mdni. f / m, SHAMELESS smut. light dom/sub w leon subbing, super light bondage. no huge warnings just your run of the mill, emotionally charged p in v + aftercare!!

word count: 1.2k // read on ao3

a/n: stuff i have fun writing gets zero engagement LMAO but i just wanted to make porn sound pretty :( sorry if it makes no sense i just ughghguh lord knows re4r leon's about to go through it even more than he already has. i need to treat him so right.

It doesn’t take much to lure Atlas to your bed, or at least the form he takes on Earth while you’re still on it. Leon’s been weary with the weight of the sky for a while. Between his missions and taking care of nearly everything at home, it leaves a bad taste in your mouth; you worry the burden is compressing his spine. He never says no to you.

Leon, seriously! You’re going to hurt yourself.

Don’t get up, I can get it mysel- aaand you’re not listening.

You’re so sweet, baby, but you didn’t have to.

He won’t give you a break because he won’t give himself a break, and you’re sick of it. Fed up.

So here’s what you do about it. You put on something sweet and lacy, distracting for all the right reasons because you’re Artemis, tying rope into a trap. And you crook a finger at Leon one night when he’s especially pent up. 

He’s as good as ever. Leon’s kisses come out all huffy and sharp and eager to please when he tries pulling you in, but you know he’s twisting the truth about what he wants.

“Wanna try something,” you tell him.

Confusion crooks his brow. 

“I need to know that you trust me.”

A rhetorical question, really. He’s not particularly fond of traffic lights. Leon decides on sparkler as his white flag, and you let him slot his thigh between your legs one last time for luck before you take him under.

Leon’s a filthy liar. Don’t blame him; his hands were tied.

Correction: his hands are tied. Onto the headboard. He’s falling to pieces, whine as he might, begging to sink his fingers into the swell of your hips, anything to hold on while you give him a taste of his own medicine. All he knows how to do is give, give, give. Tonight, you’re teaching Leon how to take.

Your soft palm envelops his cock. His chest burns where your mouth hovers. 

“Baby, please,” Leon lets out a shuddering breath when you squeeze up his length. 

You’ve been at this for a while, dangling yourself just out of his reach. He’d slipped off your body a baby blue lingerie set matching his eyes, a spoonful of sugar to make the medicine go down, right? You spin around the color wheel, blue to red, swirling your tongue over his flushed nipples. Leon has never not tasted sweet and this time is no exception.

“Please, what?”

“Do something,” he begs. “Can’t…hold off. Don’t wanna-” Leon interrupts himself with a gasp as you go hands-off at the mere suggestion. “Sweetheart, please!”

"Do you still just want to make me feel good?” you ask.

He nods feverishly. 

Wrong answer. 

You buck on his lap just shy of where he aches most, and he keens beautifully. “What do you really want, Leon?” 

Leon fights the arch building in his back. “Want to f-f- fuck, that feels…”

“Right track, baby,” you coo. 

You lean forward as a treat, let him kiss up your breasts how you know he likes. Gentle teeth bite your tender flesh; you hiss in pleasure. This exercise is as much a lesson in control for him as it is for you because you’re going a little hazy yourself. Try straddling the man who would gladly bring down the moon and stars if you so as much ask, and then denying him the single thing he wants most. You.

You’d give up everything for him. Just as he would for you. 

God, that’s where he gets it from, isn’t it? What is it about rules for thee but not for me?

Leon bucks when you loosen his metaphorical reins; smells petrichor that wasn’t there before your head went all stormy. He gazes up at you with cobalt eyes, and suddenly decides that he’s done with his learning curve.

“I want you to fuck me,” he blurts.

You kiss him, soft and sweet. “You’re gonna take what I give you?”

“Everything.”

“Why, baby?” 

Here’s the million dollar question, and Leon passes with flying colors. “‘Cause I…cause I want to feel good.”  

“Why should you? Hm?” You pray he doesn’t let the initial sting of your words get to him when you slip the weeping head of his cock along your slit. The pleasure is quick, fleeting. Not enough. Leon does more than enough and you need him to understand. You have to untie his hands, and they spring free; come home to your hips. Old habits die hard. Leon’s dipping two fingers inside your sopping wet cunt already.

Rephrasing might help. “Why should I make you cum?” you ask, swallowing hard to keep the shudder out of your voice when his knuckle digs into your clit. An opening. 

His eyes pinpoint to pricks.

“Because I fucking deserve it,” Leon growls. “So give it to me.”

The student becomes the master not a moment too soon. 

You urgently notch the head of his cock inside your starving cunt, nearly choking him at the snug fit. He’ll never get used to the feeling of you taking him in. You’re always free to swallow him however you please, but the way your insides wrap around him is unmatched to any mortal feeling he can liken to. Your pussy is poetry in practice.

“Teasing me for damn near hours and won’t even let me touch you.” Leon’s nails bite half-moons onto your thighs as you mount him. “You know what that does to me?”

“That’s how I feel when you don’t fucking take a break,” you bite back. “Leon, you’re gonna work yourself sick, you’re making me crazy!”

What if you’re going about this all wrong? 

“F-Feeling’s mutual. Ugh!” Leon bites off a shout at the molten welcome of your walls all along his length as he sinks home. “So good, so fucking good, baby. Needed to be in you so bad. Thought I was gonna die- oh,” he cuts off a moan when your hips roll hungrily over his, “just like that. Just like that, baby.”

You syncopate your rocking with his heaving breath. Run your palms down the ridges of his hard-earned abs. This is a tandem ride to the tilt that threatens to push you over the edge and you’re fighting it because you still need to get your point across. 

“I want you to - fuck! - take care of yourself,” you cry. “Let me do things for you. Like-” 

Electricity sings through your core through the traitorous press of a thumb weak to your tears.

“-this.” Leon finishes, smiling weakly.

“I loved it, I swear! Did you see me, like, at all?”  

“That’s not the point…” you muffle an embarrassed groan into Leon’s chest as he laughs to himself. Bastard. You’re in his arms keeping his spent cock warm inside you, secretly burning with shame. 

You wanted to do it right, fuck him within an inch of his life ‘cause it’s the first time he’s ever expressed wanting anything from you – and you’d gone and fucked it up. He’d made you cum first and then finished. Chivalry could suck it. 

“I get it.” Leon nods solemnly. “You just got tired of the usual.”

Your heart stops.

“Kidding, sweetheart.” 

Again, bastard. 

“Message received loud and clear,” he kisses the top of your head, and you finally settle down into the smiley afterglow that comes after sex with Leon. “I’ll share the load with you,” he promises, kissing your cheeks, “tell you what I need, take it easier on myself.”

“And why should you?” you ask.

Familiar question, right? You hope it rings bells.

Leon grins. “Cause I deserve it.”

It rings true.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[vaaaaaiolet]

Why choose between riding a cowboy, a stallion, or an Italian when you can have all three? In which you find competition for the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost in the American West.

mdni holy shit. f / m, shameless smut just like pure filth. p in v, wild west au, TONS of christian imagery via metaphor??, mild praise + size kink, leon's a tease as usual

word count: 1.69k <3 // read on ao3

a/n: re6 leon turns my brain into illiterate mush and this is the proof. i wrote this 1 word an hour. i couldn't cope. ignore the half assed banner, half assed writing, half assed everything. listen to nessa barrett's song from the title. god bless you all.

God makes no mistakes: you’re on your knees in the back of an Arizona saloon, but you’re not exactly praying thanks. God is a vision in dirty blond as far as you’re concerned. How’d you end up here?

Enter Leon Kennedy: outlaw on the run.

He hadn’t gotten the memo when angels started coming down to Earth and wanted to give you the warm welcome you deserve. 

“Seriously?” You laugh; swirl your watered-down whiskey.

“I’ve always wanted to try that one out,” Leon grins. Cocky and magnetic, he takes your hand in his own calloused one and guides you to the dance floor. “But you haven’t seen my real trick yet.”

“And what’s that?”

“This.”

Every other beat of your heart finds you in a dizzying dip over the floor as Leon leads you in a dance akin to gunfights in Tombstone, except Leon is more than O.K. at what he does. He’s got you in a trance with his hands spanning your waist.

Sucking in dust and his woodsmoke cologne, you gasp, “Where’d you learn how to dance like that?”

“You’ve never been danced properly before?” Leon laughs. He spins you like you’re the moon.

“Not like this!”

“Oh darlin’, you don’t learn by talkin’ about it. Keep dancing and you’ll figure it out.”

Figure out a two-step you might not have, but you can figure just fine what Leon means when his hand slips up the hem of your blouse. A hungry thumb soon lines your brassiere right under the nose of the barkeep. 

“You’re crass, Leon,” you whisper.

“Is that a no? I’ll treat you right if you let me.”

God expects his servants to give and take, and you’ve done a lot of taking so far, no? You’ve been a little down on your luck lately. Can’t afford to tempt fate that way. So you pull Leon down by the collar, whisper back with your lips lined in devil red, “Make it my treat?”

His smirk glimmers in the dark. “Lead the way, doll.”

Quickly, quickly. Miracles disappear in the blink of an eye and Leon needs to take you before you can disappear into the night. Rope-toughened fingertips fly down your lined blouse, slip the silk off to unveil your sun-freckled shoulders behind the barkeep’s storage door. You’ve spirited Leon away for twenty minutes at best before the saloon closes and the workers come barging in. You’ve got to pay penance for this, haven’t you?

You sink to your knees. 

Leon hooks his hands under your thighs and sits you right back up on a crate, and gets down on his knees.

What.

You’re running on borrowed time, you can’t afford tweaks to this arrangement. “I thought we had a deal?” you scowl. 

But you forget God makes no mistakes. Leon is his creation, so causation, correlation, you do the math. Your anger dissipates at the first swipe of his thumb over your clothed slit. Wetness blooms at his touch, and Leon chuckles as your breath shudders. Genesis.

“Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly to let a lady do all the work.” He kisses the spot between your legs, looks up at you with eyes of oasis blue. “You know I take the lead.”

Your chest heaves. “I do.”

“I’m good at it.”

“...You are.”

"And I know this isn't your style. All I ask is that you let me earn my keep.”

Well, that goes without saying. And so Leon flips the script. 

He starts lining burning kisses down your thigh, entices you with an “Open for me”, sighs dreamily when your legs part of their own accord. A previously bothersome, soaked scrap of lace falls at Leon’s feet. 

“Oh, baby, you should’ve asked next time. Look at this mess. Wouldn’t’ve needed to be so quick, then.”

Try and look down, but Leon’s already latched his warm mouth onto your clit, sucking like it’s a Tootsie pop. You throw your head back in ecstasy. 

Waves of feel-good wash over you in all the colors of a pinkening sunset, gold at the edges and red hot at the center, your own overflowing with slick as Leon dips his tongue inside – oh, oh, oh, swirling the colors with each revolution around your sensitive pearl. Your thighs threaten to clamp around his head. He keeps you pliant, capping your knees with rough palms.

“Leon…” you can’t help but whine. 

“Just workin’ ya a bit. Think you’ve had enough?” you hear him groan from underneath.

You’re barely breathing. “Need…need more.”

“Don’t seem that way to me from here. God, you’re gorgeous.” Leon croons, sucking a tender bite a little ways from where you need him most, over the softest part of your inner thigh. A landmark so he can hope to find his way back. He taps your knee. “Time?”

The dusty clock on the barkeep’s desk reads ten minutes to twelve; you relay this with difficulty as Leon does his damnedest to render you incapable of speech. He hums, considering. The vibration shoots right up your core.

“I’ve been in tighter spots,” he eventually decides, shooting you a lopsided grin as he hefts you higher on the crate you’ve practically melted off the side of, “No offense, doll.”

You’d laugh if you weren’t so close. “Low-hanging fruit, Leon.”

“You taste sweeter nohow.”

Missing his mouth already, you pull him back into a kiss. His leather belt clinks in time with the glasses back inside the bar as he unbuckles it, and you take the time to appreciate how you’re level with him even perched atop a crate. Leon’s got height on you. 

Inches where it matters, too. His cock bucks in his hand when it finally springs free, and you bat your lashes up at him ‘cause it seems Leon’s been keeping secrets. He’s thick, ruddy and leaking, got a halo over the head of his dick in the light that creeps in from under the door, and you make a prayer to put your mouth on him if you cross paths once more. Your fingers barely go all the way around.

“Make a deal with me, cowboy,” you breathe. “I let you have your fun. Now, you let me.”

Leon cocks a brow. He’s antsy, understandably so. “What’s that entail?”  

Plywood burns the back of your jean skirt as you slide off the crate, Leon watching as you shuck off the denim, pool it underneath your feet. You reel him in by the collar just to shove him onto the barkeep’s high-backed chair. Leon’s eyes widen when your thighs bracket his and everything suddenly makes sense as you center your cunt tantalizingly over his painfully erect length. 

He’s rasping, needy. “This what you had in mind?”

“‘Fraid so.”

“You sure?”

You scoff haughtily, dragging a smile from him that’s all lynx. “Your wish is my command, miss.” 

Palms start gliding up your torso, thumbs rub circles on the undersides of your breasts. Leon’s collarbones collect moonlight streaming in from the open window and you want to lap it all up like milk, but you’re getting distracted. The clock is counting closer to midnight. Adrenaline makes you heady. Maybe you should tell Leon to get a good handle on your hips when you sink down on his dick – point blank. 

All the way to the hilt. 

He takes it in stride as best as he can. “Tight, doll, ah,” he hisses, head bobbing, “so tight. Gonna send me to heaven.” 

You shift your hips experimentally, whimpering at the stretch. You’re a lousy judge of character but an apparently worse judge of size because you have no idea how you’re going to do this. Leon’s thumb reroutes to your navel, North Star that it is, and travels down to wait over your clit. Technically, you’ve still got the lead. Everything’s still. So so still. You’re about to break.

The minute hand ticks.

“Leon, please,” you whimper.

“What’s that, doll?” 

You paw uselessly at his chest. “Need help.”

Leon clicks his tongue in sympathy. It’s hard to get mad at a thing like you no matter how tough you sell yourself. Smart mouth and pretty eyes, bubblegum sweet underneath, something he’s gotta help. Leon’s always been a sucker for the damsel in distress type.

So he calls down a miracle. “I gotcha, sweetheart.” 

You cry out in relief at the lifting sensation of his hands around your hips. This is another dance you’ve yet to learn, it seems. 

“I gotcha.” Leon’s voice is a psalm over the burn of his cock inside you. A familiar thumb sneaks in between where you and he meet; whiskey and mint on his breath intoxicates you when he murmurs, ”Did so good for me, darlin’. Doesn’t feel too great right now, does it?”

You sniffle. “Mm-mm.”

“Gonna let me make it better?”

“Please.”

Leon indulges you. Taking advantage of the slick velvet he’s wrapped in, he glides you up just the tiniest bit, revealing the inch of his length you’ve covered in your arousal. You watch transfixed as he lifts your hips up and down. Baby steps. Stomach flips. You leave him coated in stardust like you’re made of it.

Leon’s in awe. “See that?” 

But you’re too far gone to take notice of anything but the embers in your stomach, seconds away from crumpling onto his chest. You were once sitting proudly upright. The extent of your desire hits like a revelation once your insides finally mold around him, like it was all prophesized, and you can’t tell up from down when Leon starts to piston you on his lap.

Five minutes 'til it’s all over: You’re tender and boneless and about to explode. Leon is relentless. Sweat drips from his brow like holy water. He kicks the barkeep’s chair to barricade the door because you were right, there’s no way you’re making it out here alive.

Your thighs ache with exertion, steering you on their own.

Four minutes: “Can’t take it, Leon!” You’re going under. The flood is no myth.

“Tell me where,” he grits, desperate.

Three. 

You want him to pull up the ladder.

Two.

“Where, doll, where?!”

One.

“Inside.” 

And God, you burn brighter than the sun.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[vaaaaaiolet]

He’s away on a mission, but you can’t get him out of your head. Like he’s whispering from miles away. You can't bear how Leon’s presence haunts you. And then one night, you snap.

mdni. f / m, shameless smut but no p in v i swear i'll write it properly ONE DAY. fem masturbation, leon has a rich people bathroom, praise kink, you want him like CRAZY, also i get poetic on you :( and what if it all might be mutual WHOSAIDTHAT

word count: 889 // read on ao3

a/n: mdni / 18+ only, i'm sorry. this is in celebration of reaching 69 posts LMAO also i listened to a lot of fetish by selena. rip pop songs killed by mumble rappers. i <3 u

When Leon leaves for the umpteenth time to chase down bioterrorism’s next Carmen Sandiego, you can’t help but be a little distraught. Pissed for lack of more pleasing verbiage. If the world needed your boyfriend so badly, it could date him itself. 

You were here first. 

And you miss him. 

His paycheck keeps you company more often than he does. It’s not the money’s fault that Leon’s Jacuzzi doesn’t even come close to the molten heat of his skin against yours. He’d left his penthouse to you for a month this time; pressed a kiss to the top of your head and snuck his hand up the curve of your inner thigh right before he disappeared, his whisper like the burn of scotch on rocks: 

“Take care.”

“I’ll keep your place perfect,” you’d ducked to burrow into his heartbeat.

“Not the place, sweetheart. You.”

You’re breaking down, you think. You’re being masochistic, replaying that final exchange over and over and over again as you toss in Leon’s silk sheets. Maybe you’re overworked. His cologne sneaks inside your lungs, his siren song reverbs in your head. Arousal pools like something notorious in the pit of your stomach and Leon’s still not fucking here.

Take care.

Of yourself? Well, if he insisted.

Something unseen jerks you toward his bathroom through your navel. There’s no negotiating, no autonomy over the shaking hands that untie Leon’s favorite robe from your waist, dropping it to the floor in a puddle of blue. 

Good girl. 

Your skin blooms into familiar goosebumps.

Into the tub now.

There’s ancient pleasure in lowering yourself into the warm water. Leon’s bathroom is no Roman bathhouse, but his Jacuzzi gets pretty damn close. It turns you lithe and lush – you’re a goddess in Leon’s palms, in the heat of the water as you dip your head underneath and take your sweet time coming up for air. You set the jets as gentle as they can go. The heat between your legs thrums, compliant with their pace for now.

Another unfortunate fact about your boyfriend: Leon’s like Midas, except anything he touches simply falls under his mercy. It works with you, and it works with the tub because if he were here, he’d turn the knob for the jets to fire at sporadic, impatient intervals.

Taking too long.

The spurts of water behind your back sit you straight up. Your head jerks forward, your hand falls between your legs because there you go, baby, was that so hard? It is hard, it’s unbearable to finally notice the impatient ache that you’ve let fester in Leon’s absence. You gasp as your middle finger brushes against that swollen bundle of nerves. 

Circles, baby. How would I do it?

Your head spins. Leon would click his tongue and brush your hand aside to press a kiss onto your weeping slit, cradle your clit between the bump of his nose and brow, make you cry with a whispered command. Your hips twist in agony. Memories burn and Leon understands that best.

You substitute as best as you can. Hesitatingly dip a finger inside. You don’t know what you’re waiting for because you’ve waited too long.

Little more for me.

Heat sparks impossibly under the Jacuzzi’s water as you grow bold within minutes, rubbing two fingers now in concentric circles, faster and faster. Leon’s somewhere on the other side of the world without a clue that his name’s being whined so pitifully. You sink a third finger in as your arousal mixes with water, bucking helplessly, hopelessly – you’re racing now. Pushing everything out and back in. Miles shrinking to feet. Is this the chase Leon lays down his life for? 

You need Leon to crack you open. You’re up to your knuckles now, his name sounding strung-out in your mouth as you plead to the skies. Where’s the plane bringing him home? 

Almost there. 

You don’t want to be close. Not without him.

You sound perfect. Doing so well.

“God!” You cry out loud. 

Just me, baby.

Embarrassingly enough, you break. You choke on the wave threatening to rend you apart. Pleasure courses between your legs, shipwrecking you in Leon’s tub, your thighs slamming shut as you keel over the tub’s ceramic edge. You’re scrambling to hold on to something to keep afloat as sparks light you on fire. Leon would snicker to himself if he was between your legs like you wanted, cooing pretty things into your ear, the rumble of his laugh stretching the ebb and flow of your orgasm out for however long he desires. He’d whet his appetite for the next time.

“No, no no no…” 

But infuriatingly, he’s not here, and the fireworks in your stomach turn into distress signals as your orgasm clams itself back up with no one to appreciate its showy colors. 

Leftover breaths rattle your ribcage as you stand in the tub. You’re doused in moonlight, a spotlight you don’t want. The strings of leftover slick lining your thighs get wiped away with a paper towel and shamefully shoved down a wastebasket. You can’t keep your hands to yourself for one night?

Pathetic.

And miles away, spread-eagle and groaning your name on stained sheets he’ll need to hide from housekeeping in the morning, Leon shares the sentiment. 

So good for me, Leon.

He’s weak too.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[vaaaaaiolet]

ur leon kennedy writing is def the best ive seen on here. soo i thought why not ask you, do you think leon is an ass or boobs guy? i swr nobody talks ab it and im curious to see what ppl think !!

EEEEKK YOU'RE TOO NICE!! thank you, i definitely get inspo from some fantastic authors :)) and LMFAO

ramble under cut to keep ya feed clean:

with ALL MY CHEST HEART:

i want leon to be a boobs guy. because i have zero ass

i want him obsessed with tits. absolutely losing his mind over yours. a slightly lower v neck and he's having trouble keeping his eyes on whatever he's pretending to read. i want him begging to use you as a pillow, covering your chest with pretty hickies, pouting when you cover up his hard work with foundation before going out.

but let's be fr he has boobs of his own so he's probably an ass guy :( like EVERY MAN EVER ugh. I DON'T CARE. i will make him a boobs guy every time just because i can. LA LA LA I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!

re2 leon would 100% be a boobs guy, everything after would not be immune to smacking your ass (lovingly) send tweet

[papaleon]

Like Fire From the Heavens

RE2 & RE4 Leon Kennedy x afab!reader (no use of y/n)

summary: This got away from me tbh - drabbles of RE2 & RE4 Leon enjoying overstimulation

wc: 709

18+ MDNI pls this is just straight up p w/o p

content: p in v, creampie, fingering, handjob, overstim, implied breeding kink (i am physically unable to write leon without it), leon is a switch (he simply contains multitudes)

a/n: my writing is still rusty, these are just short little headcanons as I try to get better with smut, perspective, and characterization. I appreciate you reading! <3 It's kinda proofread, all mistakes are my own!

RE2

You could feel Leon’s breath shudder as you squeezed more lube over his flushed cock, pink and weeping from your ministrations. You had Leon leaned up against your front, his head tipped back against your shoulder so he could mouth at your jawline as he tried to buck up into your fist. 

You’re gonna come for me again, isn’t that right baby? You cooed at him. Leon was flushed all the way down through his chest, sticky come painting a picture of the evening over his stomach. 

Y-yes please angel, can I? You could tell Leon had reached the end of his rope, hips jerking as his body battled between chasing his orgasm or escaping the oversensitivity.

You smiled softly at his pleas. You always enjoyed seeing Leon let go, loved being able to take care of him in a way he refused to admit he wanted, out loud. 

Last one baby, your grip got a little tighter, where do you want it? 

Inside, Leon answered immediately, barely letting you finish the question. 

Okay baby, since you asked so nicely, you shuffled out from behind him, helping him situate himself so you could swing your leg over, settling over his hips. Leon’s eyes sparkled with want as he raked his eyes over your body. His hands coming up to pull your hips down as you lined his weeping cock up with your wet hole. 

Those same pretty eyes were screwed shut as you sank down on his length, Leon’s hips immediately snapped up to fill you up completely. 

You knew he was holding off his orgasm for you, waiting for your permission, but you decided you had tortured him enough for one evening. Go ahead baby, you spoke softly, come for me one more time. 

It only took a few shallow thrusts to have Leon follow through, sharp little ‘ah, ah, ah’s sounding like they were being punched out of him with every thrust. You made sure to milk every last drop from him, his whole body going lax when you finally freed him. 

Good boy. 

-----

RE4

Leon growled under his breath, low and deep, as he fucked into you relentlessly. The slap of skin and the obscene sound of his come and your slick coming from where you were connected echoed loudly in the otherwise quiet room. You could just make out Leon’s features in the dark, his brow furrowed in concentration. If you had more sense in that moment, you’d pull him down to kiss you. 

You had your ankles hooked over Leon’s back pulling him in deeper, fingers digging into his biceps as you tried to keep yourself grounded. The sounds, the sensations, it took over your mind, leaving little room for coherent thought. You trembled as the fire in your belly burned brighter, back arching off the bed as you lost yourself again. 

Fuck, Leon groaned above you, his hips losing any semblance of rhythm as he pushed into you once, twice, cock as deep as it could go. You’re still so t-tight f’me, milking me dry, he spoke through gritted teeth as his own orgasm ripped through him again in a way that seemed borderline painful, warmth painting the walls of your cunt once again. You knew he chased that feeling of overstimulation, knew he liked testing his own limits, and who were you to deny a man on a mission like Leon?

You loved nights like these, ones where Leon found himself in a particular mood. Nights where he challenged himself to fill you up to the brim, to treat you to as many orgasms as you both could handle, putting himself to work in as many ways as he could. He’d never admit the quiet part out loud, but you knew he loved watching his come drip out of you, loved the possessiveness that sparked in him, loved knowing he had claimed you inside and out. 

No one else could fuck you like this huh? He’d say, thick fingers fucking his own come back into you as he brought you to your nth orgasm of the night, his spent cock twitching weakly at the sight. Who else could fill you up like this over and over? 

No one, only you. 

[vaaaaaiolet]

When you call Leon late one night, he knows something's up with his best friend and mission partner of two years. You're breaking down and your shitty on-and-off boyfriend's nowhere to be found, but that's not Leon's business. He's just supposed to be a shoulder for you to cry on.

But Leon's not very good at staying out of business concerning you. Feelings get involved, and he finds out he has quite a sticky finger when it comes to phone calls.

f / m, friends / partners to lovers, angst + fluff w/ hurt + comfort, mutual pining, mild?? safe sex, phone sex w/ a twist, tw: shitty bf that's not leon but no cheating i don't condone cheating, porn w/ feelings + some semblance of a plot. oh, and happy ending :) mdni.

word count: 2.7k // read on ao3

a/n: YAY GRACIE ABRAMS RELEASED CLOSE TO YOU!! idk what happened with this fic LMAO it just got way out of hand. i’m also working on "and they were roommates!"; it's my summer goal to finish that series (you can really tell how employed i am). also if you catch the touch tank lyric, i <3 u

The phone on Leon’s nightstand buzzed impatiently the way demanding, intrusive phone calls do at 1 AM on weeknights. Jesus Christ. No one called him this late at night, nobody except his favorite mission partner who only had burning questions for him the minute the clock struck midnight.

In other words, you.

He ran a hand through his bedhead, picking up your call with half a mind to tell you off for real this time before his ears met wracking sobs. The snark sublimated off Leon’s tongue. 

“Hey, hey, is everything alright? What’s going on?” his voice rose steadily in pitch the more you cried. Worry thumped in his bare chest as he sat up on his knees, “Where are you?”

“Home, I’m at home, I- Leon, he’s with her, I don’t know what to do!” You sounded like you were drowning the way your words spilled out, punctuated with gasps for air. “He turned his phone off, and his-his friends said he wasn’t with them at the bar…” you hiccuped, “and I have the worst gut feeling, it feels like-” 

His stomach twisted as you heaved for breath. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.” 

Leon’s mind whirled. He knew, to his incredible unenthusiasm, that you’d been in an on-and-off relationship for the past two years. You couldn’t let go of your boyfriend from your training days. You’d sip apologetically from your drink and wave away Leon’s scolding each time you got left in the dust, only to bounce back the moment your boyfriend promised to do better. 

You’d been his saving grace in the field more times than he could count, and it was only because of his own woman in red that Leon could empathize where others rolled their eyes at you. You and him were the same. The only difference is that he’d given up on this part of life entirely while you clung tight. Leon had gone his separate way while you pined at the crossroads. 

But he was a selfish bastard, and he was a bit like you, too. Same coin. He gave you his shoulder to cry on and couldn’t help absorbing a bit of the blame for your needy heart.

“Stay right there.” Leon murmured, forcing his anger at your definitely cheating boyfriend into something softer for you to land on, "I'm coming right now, I'll pick you up and we'll talk about it."

“Don’t, Leon, it’s late. I just called to…God, I don’t even know. You have work tomorrow.” 

“First time you’ve been concerned about my work, calling this late at night.” he chuckled, interrupting your budding apology, silver keys jangling in his pockets. “Don’t worry about it. Pretend I’m already there. I got you.” 

You laughed through your sniffles, “Stubborn ass.”

His heart lurched. “Have to be one. I can’t have you thinking you can call me crying and I’d do nothing about it.”

The snow whipped at his windshield when he pulled into your driveway. Who the hell went clubbing on a work night at 1 AM, Leon didn’t know, but as he killed his car’s headlights, he figured your boyfriend was just the kind of good-for-nothing to pull it off. He stuck his hands in his pockets and trudged to your front door.

You cracked the door open after two knocks, just enough for him to slip into your dark entryway. Leon frowned in the darkness as he let you pull him by the arm into your living room where a few tea candles flickered on your coffee table. They littered its glass surface along with a few tissues. 

“I'm sorry about the dark,” you wiped your eyes with a sleeve, “Sorry about everything, really.”

If he’d lifted your mood before he’d cut the call, he didn’t have a clue now. You looked so small, drowning in a long-sleeve shirt and pajama shorts, socked feet fiddling with a crack in the floor as Leon sat you on your couch. 

He couldn’t think. He just enveloped you in a hug as fresh tears threatened to spill over your lashes. "No. We're not doing 'I'm sorry,' alright? You have nothing to be sorry for." He gave you one more squeeze before popping the million dollar questions: "What happened? What did he do? Tell me everything." 

You crumpled into his chest. “You were right, you’re always right, Leon. God, why don’t I ever learn? What’s wrong with me?”

I’ve never wanted to be more wrong in my life. Tell me no like you always do.

“He’s been angry.” You mumbled, “Secretive, defensive…he bought jewelry that I only know about from the receipts.”

“…how long?” 

Leon wanted to fix this. Make your should-be ex pay. Hunnigan could always deal with the fallout later. She’d wipe your boyfriend’s existence off the face of the planet if he asked. Nicely. Hopefully. 

“I didn’t want to disappoint you.” You lifted your head to meet his gaze and all he could do was watch tears glimmering in those eyes he knew so well. “I didn’t want to tell you he’s been like this for a month…to be honest, I didn’t care.”

Leon’s brain wasn’t catching up as you continued, “I just didn’t want to disappoint you.”

He raised an eyebrow. 

"Disappoint me?" Leon repeated. "Sweetheart, you would never disappoint me. You're my best friend, alright?" Damn, he’d pulled out the double-edged sword, but this way, he could get you to listen. The tingly feeling was back. "Look at me."

He cupped your chin in his hand. Studied your face. 

"Why would you ever think that?" 

“…because you said he wasn’t good for me,” you choked out, words tumbling from your lips the more you gained momentum. “Because I know how it feels to be loved because you treat me like that and he doesn’t, he never did, he-”

You stopped yourself with a shaky breath, blinking up at him like a deer in headlights because there it was. 

Here you both were.

The one line you were both afraid to cross. The line between friends and everything more.

Your hands flew up to his chest, flitting from the soaked fabric of his open shirt to cover your face as you backtracked hard. “I’d make everything complicated. You don’t need that, neither of us do with this job – you don’t need me to mess up the stability you have in your life. I’m supposed to make things easier for you, like an actual friend, and instead I just cause trouble. I drag you into my mess.”

Leon could roll his eyes right about now. Said the girl who watched his back at every turn. Saved him limbs and further replacements for said limbs. The girl who started breaking him out of his shell with laughter and light the minute she stepped into his life like a hurricane, after losing Luis and the shock of Krauser’s betrayal shut Leon further into the abyss. You were the chief reason he’d stopped chasing Ada like a lovesick puppy and started seeing her as an advantage in the field instead. And you as something more.

You filled his life with so much to look forward to that he simply didn’t have the time to let the negativity in. So it was only right that he cut you off, sealing his mouth to yours to even the exchange. An eye for an eye – heart for a heart.

"There." Leon breathed out after what felt like an eternity, heat rushing to his face. "Am I messing up your life yet?"

The broken pieces of your heart kicked up like the snowstorm outside the moment Leon’s lips touched yours. The breath knocked out of you as he lifted your chin ever so gently with just a finger, your head reeling to keep pace: Leon. Here. Kissing. Kissing you.  

Is he messing up your life yet? Oh, baby boy.

“You could never.” 

A stupid, giddy smile threatened to split your face in half as your heart beat double time.

“...but I’d let you if you wanted.”

“Then let me, sweetheart,” Leon practically begged, his ocean eyes searching yours.

“I’ll stop if you say the word.”

His calloused fingers tucked your hair behind your ear as he leaned in again, drawing a beautiful gasp out of you as his tongue brushed the seam of your lips. You let him in, tilting your head, nose almost bumping his the way you chased him after he let go, everything that was suddenly too much now not enough. Leon’s heart kicked gleefully.

He hooked his hands under your thighs as he pulled you onto his lap. The strength he’d built up from his missions finally came to good use.

You blinked up at him, hungrily, pleadingly. “I do want something more. More than what we’ve got.”

“The sentiment’s mutual.” 

Leon took advantage of the fact you hadn’t done a single thing to stop him so far, purring sweet nothings into your ear as he began nipping at your neck to coax out more delicious sounds. He could play you like an instrument in the hands of Juilliard graduate; make you sing with a touch.

“Leon…I was scared. Terrified. Didn’t want to- didn’t want to lose you if I came clean.” 

You let his hands slip under your shirt to palm at your breasts, followed by profuse thanks in the form of tender touches everywhere else he could reach. Sweet girl, melting like snow on his tongue. He flipped you onto your back as you reached for him, trailing kisses down your neck as he eased your shorts down the minute you nodded yes. Feverishly. 

Maybe the warmth of your walls sucking in his fingers was what he needed to piece together why you kept going back to your shitty boyfriend when what you wanted was Leon.

You were distracting yourself. 

It was all so stupid.

“You’re never going to lose me,” he groaned; pressed a kiss onto your inner thigh, his hand locking onto your knee to keep it from twitching as you arched with every pass of his thumb over your tiny bundle of nerves. “I can’t even believe I let you keep this up for so long. Shit!”

It was devastatingly easy to bring you to climax. He followed the angle of your back arching at his touch like a step-by-step guide as he gave you one last kiss, right over your soaked entrance, and rose from his knees to sit your trembling body back up. Leon murmured for you to reach for the wallet in his back pocket, and you laughed breathlessly as you fished out a condom, kissing the corner of the lopsided grin he shot you. Angel. 

That’s one more name he’d been itching to call you.

“Let me keep you, angel. I’ll treat you right. You know that already, don’t you?” Leon kissed the top of your head, rolling on the rubber as you straddled his lap with shaky legs. His hands easily spanned the curve of your hips as you bit your lip. He didn’t want to hurt you any more than you already had been. 

“I’ll be gentle,” he murmured.

“You want to be gentle with me?” you repeated, smiling.

Fair enough question. Leon blew apart bioweapons for a living. But he could be gentle when he wanted to be.

He couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah. Wanna take my time with you, sweet girl.”

Leon kissed you one last time before painstakingly, slowly, lowering you on his length. Really, it was because he wanted to hear you whimper his name all the more. You’re beautiful. Gorgeous. Your cries filtered into his ears sweeter than birdsong. Oh, he was going to make sure you forgot your boyfriend ever existed. You were all inviting warmth, plush walls and silk, but Leon barely had time to suck in a breath at the spectacular fit of you on his cock because of the infuriating trill of your phone’s ringtone breaking the blessed silence.

“Shut it up, Leon, I don’t wanna hear- oh shit! Oh my god,” your frustrated expression morphs into one of shock as he flips the screen to reveal your soon-to-be ex’s caller ID, “Hang up, baby.”

Leon wanted to listen so badly. You even called him baby.

“Leon!”

“Sweetheart, you said you wanted me to mess up your life? We’re starting now.”

Your eyes flew wide open as he pecked your forehead and tapped the “answer” button, bucking his hips up just enough for you to moan out loud. Your saucer eyes fixed on the phone on the coffee table; your ex just got greeted with the most salacious sound you’d ever made in your life.

“Babe, what the hell?” went the tinny male voice, “Are you…okay?”

You were okay, alright. Leon was making sure of that. One more kiss to your jaw and you were whining right into his mouth. It was just too bad the phone couldn’t pick up the way your fingers tangled themselves into his hair, but Leon was confident your mewls made it through.

“I’ll apologize later, I promise, just let me do this for you.” he whispered, angling you so he’d hit that spongy patch of nerves deep inside. You promptly dissolved into tears. Good ones this time, begging him for just a little more, doing anything to trigger that switch.

Your soon-to-be ex, however, meanwhile resorted to shouting any insult he could think of from what sounded like the inside of his car. Frankly, it was killing the mood. 

“Hey, buddy?” Leon called out as you teetered on the brink of euphoria. “It’s fine. I’ve got her.”

The noise of your ex’s muffled surprise almost made you get up in alarm, but Leon wasn't about to have this moment taken away so soon. Now, it was a matter of satisfaction for him as your ex blustered, "I'm sorry, am I hearing this right? You've got her? Who the hell are you?"

“I’m Leon. You don’t know me?” 

“I don’t know any- wait. You work with her, don’t you?” 

Leon hummed agreeably, focusing his attention on making the phone an afterthought for you as you chased your high. “Maybe. I’m just doing what you couldn’t for the past two years, you know.”

“You bitch. You’re cheating on me with a coworker? Are you fucking serious? Unbelievable…you…I’m on my way. You two fuckers better be there, I swear to God, I’m going to ab-”

Leon tutted impatiently, pressing into your clit to hurtle you over the edge and drown out the tirade with your much more listen-worthy wails of pleasure. The phone call ended, without Leon’s help, only a few seconds after the last of your cries finished echoing in the living room. 

“Oops. Think we touched a nerve, sweetheart?” he chuckled, easing you off him as he swiped a tissue to clean you up. 

You glowered up at him – shit – only to break into an incredulous grin. His heart was mere inches from falling off a precipice. Good God, woman.

“You’re crazy.” you giggled.

“Yeah? And you want me anyway.”

“Love you, anyway.” 

He grinned. 

Leon didn’t stop you from slamming the front door in your now-ex’s face (oh, how he savored saying that). He also didn’t stop you from jumping into his arms the second your ex’s car pulled out of your driveway, your bulletproof breakup face traded for the smile he’d once tried to convince himself he wasn’t in love with.

Your voice was ecstatic. "I can't believe I just did that. Oh my god, I just did that!" 

"Wasn't that fun?" he laughed.

"Really fun." 

You got up on your tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. "You know, ever since I gave you permission to ruin my life, Leon, you've been doing the exact opposite," you mused, your fingers playfully catching on the hem of his shirt. 

“I plan on keeping that promise, baby. I didn’t even have to ruin your life for you to fall in love with me.”

You arched a know-it-all eyebrow.

“Okay, okay! Maybe a little bit.” he conceded, warmth erupting in his chest. 

Yeah. If this counted as ruining your life, Leon was just fine with no rest for the wicked.

psst! find more of my work here

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated :,)

[vaaaaaiolet]

September 30th, 1998. Your world ended with Leon's death, or so you thought.

Or alternatively, how you spent two decades of your life tied to a man full of secrets who can't love you how you want him to.

gn / m, angst and hurt / comfort, mild smut, eventual happy ending, for the love of god someone give leon and reader both a hug :(

read this to 1999 by beabadoobee for optimal results

word count: 1.8k // read on ao3

this work is inspired by @uhlunaro's "a tale of grief in 10 parts" :) please check out their work, it's absolutely amazing!

He would return in one piece. That was the most you could have hoped for when you gawked at the evening news, swaddled in your robe like some useless overgrown baby as a TV reporter boredly announced that your boyfriend had died. 

Oopsy! Blown to bits like Lego bricks! The Raccoon City building set, discontinued forever. 

Grief shot through your chest like the explosions peppering your television screen the more you watched. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. You’d actually gotten down on the floor and pressed your face to the display, hoping to catch a glimpse of blond hair on the live feed, searching until the news bulletin hit your head shotgun-style. No reported survivors. 

No survivors.

There was no Leon S. Kennedy escaping the rubble. Nobody to come home and wisecrack that he was right about cops and their dependence on donuts. No one to make dinner for. Something had to be done about his favorite steak browning cheerfully in the oven as the world burned around you.

Had it burned for him too? You sat in his chair at the head of the kitchen table and shoveled steak into your mouth in a numb rage, peeking at char marks through the fork tines. They were black, burnt to a crisp, inciner- 

You spent the rest of the night emptying your stomach into the toilet. The landline laid lifeless. 

Leon’s world had ended in a flash; yours in flushes as you poured your heart into the plumbing. Hell, it didn’t even stay there, floating stubbornly to the top as your choked toilet spewed water and you sat and sobbed.

Months later, Leon came home for a week. A week you hadn’t been selfish enough to plead the heavens for (instead you’d sobbed, prayed for glimpses of him in strangers) but a gift horse of a week nonetheless. 

The breath rushed out of your lungs every time he rounded a corner in the house, soundless as a ghost. It terrified Leon even more than it did you. He was scared. Leon wouldn’t tell you of what though, and you wasted the better part of the week wondering. Diagnosing him like the doctors on endless TV shows you’d whiled away your time to while he was dead. None of your guesses really scratched the surface of his fears; he just wished you’d stop asking.

Leon told you in the final hour of his last day home. Powder blue eyes committed every inch of you to memory when he kissed you slow and honey-sweet underneath sheets that had laid cold for far too long. In between his calloused hands, you bloomed to life.

He’d gasped as his lips trailed up the column of your throat, “I’m- ah, I’m so sorry…”

You hadn’t the foggiest idea of what he was apologizing for. All you cared was that he was here now, he was home. That was all you’d wanted, right? You didn’t even let him finish, surging up and planting your lips on his so that he’d have to swallow his sorry’s right back, smoothing his brow with your thumb when it furrowed in the dark. For now, Leon drank in every bit of your love that he could stomach.

Leon took you to the heavens you’d once prayed to, all while you dragged your nails down the cracked melamine skin of his back. 

And then he told you that he wouldn’t be home for Christmas. As far as the United States government was concerned, Christmas (or any other holiday really) wasn’t grounds for him leaving his new, top secret “work”. Dangerous, life-threatening work that he made you promise not to worry over. Leon’s spare police uniform watched forlornly from his dust-ridden side of the closet as he laid bare any information he was cleared to – barely anything. You’d torn off your silver necklace and stamped a kiss to the cold metal to wrap it around his shaking wrist. Anything to give him a reason to mutiny, to come running back. 

So in December of 1999, you stopped going to your support group for fallen police officers. You spent Christmas mourning a man whose life became a secret for you alone to keep. 

A letter strewn on your front porch: the summer of ‘04. 

It won’t be easy. He is stronger than you think. 

The lipstick kiss at the bottom matched the red of the ink in Leon’s letter to you from Spain. You don’t get another until his writing in it begins to fade, but that lipstick, miraculously, never does.

The next time Leon came back, it was for even shorter. Three days to make up for the six years he’d left you to pick up the pieces he promised not to break you into. You almost hadn’t recognized him in the doorway because gone were those bright blue eyes and cheeks that made him grumble when you pinched them; this Leon’s features were tailor-made. Cut to perfection, built to last. He lifted you into the air with the same breath he whispered hello with.

There was little to do except ravage each other, to put it lightly. You scavenged for answers in the seams of his scars; Leon looked for love in the lines of your forehead. 

He kissed you like he had something to prove. 

He wiped the tears that bubbled down your cheeks as you fought to fit him inside, cause your world had shrunk that much since he’d been gone.

He shaped the explosions that galvanized him into fireworks that wrenched every inch of resistance out of your core so he could introduce you to the living he’s made. This is for the man who gave me my first knife. This is how I learned to forget you during the day and ask the moon about you at night. 

With each drop of your ambrosia sweat, Leon tore you apart and built you back again. 

I’m begging you. Look at me love you. 

But you? You begged for more than he could give you. You had more questions than the kiss-stamped note could provide answers to, especially when you spilled a box of his letters over the kitchen table, each one spaced more apart than the last. Clocks these days only read T-minus X hours until Leon’s next departure to Who Knows Where for God Knows How Long.

“You won’t tell me anything, Leon,” you choked at the table while he sat there and took it all like he was trained to. “Anything I ask, it’s all a secret. When are you going to tell me something?”

His voice was quiet, unbreakable. “I told you everything I could.” 

“Really?” The kiss at the top of the pile shone like a scarlet A and you pointed at it, voice shaking. “Who’s this from, then?”

“No one, sweetheart, I just worked with her sometimes. I’ve only run into her twice.”

“You can’t tell me anything about your life but she knows where we- where I live?”

Leon’s resolution faltered at your slip. “It’s not tha-”

“You didn’t write after she sent me that, you know? You think I don’t know what it’s like to be lonely for years? You,” the long-brewing poison crawled steadily up your throat, “I don’t even think I know you anymore. You visit less and less and even when you’re here, I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours! I don’t know you!”

“Good!” Leon exploded. “Cause damn it, I don’t even know who I am!” 

The silence that followed was worse, the absence of explanation weighing heavier than any answer could.

He muttered something about being late and rushed to the bathroom, leaving you in the middle of your fallen epistolary halo on the floor. The pipes wailed as you heard the shower turn on. 

T-minus 1 hour.

A horrible, wretched sound crept into your ear. The sound of something prized being torn loose from a dark place.

It was the first time you’d heard Leon cry.

Your brand new TV had started buffering not even a week after buying it. Hitting it with a spatula worked just as well as adjusting the HDMI cables did: it didn’t. At least your old bunny-ears TV had enough definition so you could make out the moving shapes, HD or not. 

Seconds away from you kicking the useless contraption, the TV flickered back to life and showed you Pittsburgh, plain as day. A news bulletin. The Carnegie Museum of Art had blown up in a freak accident, the reporter fretted, and the FBI were being deployed to investigate.

A familiar head of sandy hair looked up at the aerial camera. Silver glittered on his wrist as Leon tapped his earpiece – one two three – and rubbed his fist in a tight circle over his chest.

For old time’s sake. To ease the weight sitting there.

Your last name went unchanged for the next five years. You didn’t know he was keeping track. 

June dawned sweet and heavy on your windowsill. The house you’d kept for 17 years welcomed Leon back with open arms. There was something to be said for consistency with the way you floated into his embrace the second he crossed your threshold.

Wrinkles etched into his brow, smile lines on your face. It was everything he worked for.

You watched him in the wee hours of the morning when he brewed coffee, regular as if he’d done it all his life, and sat at his old spot by the window. He didn’t tell you how long he’d be here this time. If loving Leon for all these years taught you something, it was to make the most of the little you had. You’d had time to ration your grievances, cremating them into ashes and letting them scatter with the rolling tide.

“Hey.” He’d spotted you in the corner of the kitchen.

“Hey yourself.”

Leon grinned and handed you a cup of tea. He’d remembered your favorite.

“Leon.” you turned to him.

“Hm?”

“I want to make one last rule for when you’re here. No more saying sorry.” 

The sight of his raised brow in the window's reflection made laughter flutter in your chest.

“Might I ask why? I’ve had a lot of practice with you over the years, you know.” Leon quipped, his words bittersweet. It was the familiar tang of regret: tying you to him while he’d been thrown at the government’s every whim. 

You were no stranger to the taste. “Because I want us to stop wasting time.”

“Honey, time’s all we’ve ever had.”

“Exactly.” 

You smoothed a chestnut brown lock behind his ear, smiling. Leon kissed the back of your hand – his grateful answer. 

Closure instead of sex, love without expectation.

His heart beats for you in both worlds. Here with you and wherever he goes.

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comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!