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#Resident Evil FanFic
naturesapphic · 3 days
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Could I ask for Alcina who loves to make anxious maid reader melt by covering her face with lipstick kisses?
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Melted
Alcina dimitrescu x anxious!maid!fem!reader
Warnings: fluff :)
Rain was pattered against the castle in a downpour while you were cleaning the windows. You smiled as you watched the rain pour down and how the trees moved with the wind. Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the clicking of heals on the floor coming towards you. You immediately snapped out of it and continued cleaning the windows.
“How are you doing darling?” Lady dimitrescu asked you. You shyly looked up at her and a faint blush covered your cheeks. “I’m doing okay. Just washing the windows…I got a little distracted that’s all. I love watching the rain.” You said shyly as you looked back out the window. Lady dimitrescu followed your gaze and watched a bit with you.
“I can see why you like this but make sure it doesn’t distract you too much dear. You still have a lot more windows to clean.” She smirks as she leans down to give you a big kiss on your cheek which left a red mark after she pulled away. If you thought your face wasn’t red before, it sure is now. “Awww darling does me kissing you make you blush? You look so adorable acting this way.” She said.
She leans down once more and starts covering your face with kisses that left her lipstick on your face and pulls away smiling. “There. After you get done with cleaning the windows I want you to meet me in my office. There’s some things we need to discuss darling.” Your lady said to you and you nodded your head in understanding. “I need words little one.” She said sternly. “Y-yes m-ma’am!” You squeak out and she pats your cheek lovingly as she walks back to her room, swaying her hips. You sat there a blushing and shocked mess but quickly snapped out of it, getting back to work.
A/n: sorry this was so short but I didnt really know what else to put 😭 but I hope you enjoyed anyway and I hope the rest of y’all did too! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all :)
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infamous-light · 17 hours
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You Belong to Me Ch. 2
Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader
Ch. 1
AO3: You Belong to Me
Summary: Lady Dimitrescu's obsession knows no bounds as she becomes increasingly possessive over you. Will you succumb to her dark embrace, or find a way to break free before it's too late?
Word Count: 3.2K
Warnings: Yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior
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The winding hallways of Castle Dimitrescu seemed to stretch on endlessly, leading you deeper into the heart of the imposing structure.
The palms of your hands, once steady, now grew cold and clammy as you approached Lady Dimitrescu's bedchambers. You were about to begin your new role as her personal servant, a position that no one else has held before. Your mind buzzed with questions, doubts, and uncertainties.
What if you made a mistake? What if you failed to live up to her expectations?
The weight of this responsibility pressed down on you like a leaden blanket, threatening to overwhelm you before you had the chance to even begin. You swallowed hard, trying to calm the nervous flutter in your stomach.
Eventually, you found yourself standing in front of a set of double wooden doors, looming over you like a menacing shadow. Taking a deep breath, you raised your hand and knocked on the door, the sound echoing in the silent hallway.
“Come in.” Her voice, low yet authoritative, carried through the barrier of the door.
With a trembling hand, you reached out to grasp the polished golden handle, feeling its cool metal beneath your fingertips.
Here we go.
Then, you pushed the door open.
Stepping inside, you were immediately enveloped in the grandeur of Lady Dimitrescu's bedroom.
The room exuded an air of timeless elegance, each piece and decor chosen to reflect the aristocratic taste of its owner. Silk draperies hung down in graceful folds, their deep crimson hue contrasting sharply with the white furniture. Near the back, a grand, four-poster bed was pressed against the wall, its velvet canopy cascading down like a waterfall of blood. The bed itself was lavishly covered with plush, satin pillows and a heavy, fur-lined duvet. To the side of the bed stood a nightstand, its surface organized with an array of books and papers.
A large fireplace took up the right side of the bedroom, its mantlepiece adorned with an assortment of antique trinkets. Hanging above the mantlepiece was an old vintage clock, its hands steadily ticking along.
As your eyes continued to roam her bedroom, they finally landed on Lady Dimitrescu herself. She was seated at her vanity, delicately combing through her dark hair. You almost jumped out of your skin when her piercing gaze, framed by long lashes, locked onto yours through the reflection of her vanity mirror.
“Ah, there you are,” Lady Dimitrescu said as she set her hairbrush down. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
You bowed your head, trying to keep your breathing steady. “My Lady.”
She rose with fluid grace, her movements both mesmerizing and intimidating. Her towering presence filled the room, and you could feel the heat of her gaze lingering on you, appraising you. Each step she took was deliberate, her long nightgown whispering against the wooden floor as she approached you.
“Do you know,” Lady Dimitrescu purred, lifting your chin with a single, bare finger, forcing you to meet her eyes. “How much I despise being kept waiting?”
Your heart raced, a rapid staccato in your chest. Glancing to your right, you saw the time on the clock.
9:01 A.M.
Your hands fidgeted slightly, and your voice came out a bit shakier than you would have liked. “I’m sorry, my Lady. It won’t happen again.”
A slow, knowing smile curled her lips, and she traced her finger along your jawline, sending tingles down your spine.
“No, it won’t,” she murmured. “Because I have very specific expectations for you,” she leaned in closer, her lips grazing your ear as she whispered. “And I expect you to meet them.”
“Yes, my Lady.” You said quietly.
Lady Dimitrescu pulled back just enough to look into your eyes again.
“Good,” she said, her smile widening. “Now, I want you to draw me a bath. Make sure the water is just right – hot enough to steam, but not so hot that it scalds. Add a generous amount of lavender oil. I find it most relaxing in the morning.”
You nodded, eager to get this over with, and turned toward the adjoining bathroom. As you prepared the bath, the sound of water filling the large, circular tub mingled with the soft rustle of her nightgown as she moved about her bedroom. Reaching for the small bottle of lavender oil, you uncorked it and let a few drops fall into the steaming water. You swirled the water with your hand, dispersing the oil, and then straightened back up. You couldn’t shake the feeling of her eyes on you, watching your every move.
When the bath was ready, you turned around to find her completely nude by the doorway. Her eyes held yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. You quickly averted your gaze, feeling a rush of heat creeping up your neck. Her lips curled into a playful smirk.
Lady Dimitrescu walked past you with a grace that belied her towering stature. You could feel the heat radiating off her as she passed, a mixture of fear and fascination rooting you to the spot. She paused briefly at the edge of the tub, casting a sidelong glance in your direction, her eyes glimmering with amusement. With an almost theatrical flourish, she dipped one long, slender leg into the water, followed by the other. The water rippled and sloshed around her as she sank into the depths, her body disappearing beneath the surface until only her head remained above the water.
She reclined against the side of the tub, letting out a sigh of contentment as the warmth soothed her skin. Unsure of what to do next, you began to step away, your movements hesitant.
“I didn’t say you could leave, now did I?” Lady Dimitrescu said, her voice low and silky.
You immediately stopped in place and lowered your head.
“No, my Lady.” Your response was barely above a whisper.
“Come closer.” Her command was firm but soft.
You swallowed thickly, the tension between you two palpable, hanging in the air like a dense fog. Her eyes darkened, and for a moment, you felt like prey caught in the gaze of a hunter. Despite her relaxed pose, there was a coiled strength about her, a sense of latent power ready to spring.
You must have hesitated a second too long, because without warning, she reached out, her long fingers wrapping around your wrist with a firmness that left no room for resistance. She then tugged you down to the water's edge in one swift move.
“Don't be afraid, darling,” Lady Dimitrescu whispered. The warmth of her touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, making your skin tingle. “I won’t bite. Much.” The corner of her lips quirked up slightly, as if amused by her own joke.
Personally, you didn’t find it very funny.
Her fingers danced lightly over your wrist, her touch featherlight yet deliberate. Her index finger came to rest over your pulse point, feeling the rapid beat of your heart. She drew you in closer, her presence overwhelming and intoxicating.
“You’re such a nervous little thing, aren’t you?” she cooed, her voice a soothing lullaby tinged with amusement. “But perhaps a little fear can be exhilarating, don't you think?”
Your throat went dry, the words stuck like sandpaper as you tried to respond. “I-I suppose so, my Lady.”
Lady Dimitrescu chuckled, a predatory gleam in her eyes.
“There’s nothing quite like the taste of fear, the thrill of the unknown. I quite enjoy playing with my food, though,” she paused, going quiet. Just as quickly as the intimacy had risen, it vanished. “You’re much more than just a plaything.”
Her eyes glinted with a dangerous light as she studied you.
“Help me wash my hair.” She demanded quite suddenly.
You knelt there, slightly dazed, trying to process the whiplash of emotions she had just put you through.
The shift in her demeanor was startling but you didn’t have time to dwell on that as you rose from your position by the bathtub. You walked over to a shelf lined with a variety of shampoo bottles and grabbed a few. You turned around and made your way back over, standing behind her. The scent of sandalwood and peppermint hit your nostrils as you poured a generous amount into your palm. Gently, you began to massage the shampoo into her hair, your movements careful and precise. Lady Dimitrescu leaned back into your touch, a soft sigh escaping her lips as you worked the lather through her locks.
You couldn’t help but wonder how this had become your life.
***
You could hear the faint sounds of water splashing as Lady Dimitrescu prepared to emerge from her bath. You stood just beyond the threshold, made to wait by the doorway.
After what felt like an eternity, she stepped out with a fluffy towel wrapped around her large frame. She regarded you with a burning gaze, her golden eyes shining with a mixture of expectation and impatience.
“Go get my dress.”
“Yes, my Lady.” You replied promptly.
You moved toward the wardrobe that stood against the wall and opened the doors to reveal a multitude of white dresses. Carefully, you lifted one of the dresses from its hanger, feeling the fine fabric between your fingers. As you turned back toward Lady Dimitrescu, she allowed the towel to slip from her body, revealing her alabaster skin, smooth but slightly scarred. You looked away respectfully and focused on the task at hand, though the image of her naked body remained vivid in your mind.
She walked over to her dressing area and began to slip into her undergarments. Holding the dress out for her, you watched as she stepped into it, her long legs sliding effortlessly through the garment. Once the dress was in place, she adjusted it meticulously, ensuring every detail was perfect.
“Help me with the laces.” She instructed, turning her back to you.
The long, delicate laces of the dress dangled down her back, waiting to be tied. You hesitated for a moment, realizing her height made it difficult to reach the top laces. Lady Dimitrescu noticed your hesitation and glanced over her shoulder.
“Grab the step ladder in the corner of the room.” She directed, her tone patient but firm.
Nodding, you walked over to the corner and retrieved the step ladder, placing it carefully behind her. You began to climb the ladder and once you reached the last rung, you found yourself almost at eye level with the back of her head. With steady hands, you began to weave the laces through the eyelets, pulling them snug but not too tight.
As you worked, the proximity to her felt both intimidating and intimate. It made your hands shake slightly but you forced yourself to push through it. A moment later, you tied them off with a final, careful knot.
Stepping down from the ladder, you took in the sight of Lady Dimitrescu now fully dressed, her dress hugging her form perfectly.
She turned to you, her gaze steady. “I must say, you did an excellent job.”
You blinked rapidly a few times. The unexpected compliment caught you off guard.
“Uh - thank you, my Lady.”
She clasped her hands together, a pleasant smile spreading across her face. “Now, let's attend breakfast, shall we? My daughters are already waiting for us.”
Uncertainty arose within you. You’ve never worked in the kitchen before, but you don’t have much of a choice. You reassured yourself that you're resourceful and quick to learn.
“Of course, my Lady. I'll have the preparations made immediately.”
She let out a soft, almost amused sigh. “No, you misunderstand. I would like for you to have breakfast with me and my daughters.”
The words hung in the air, their weight settling heavily in the bedroom. The blood drained from your face. The thought of being around all three of her daughters at the same time made your heart almost stop beating.
“What?” You croaked out before you could stop yourself.
Lady Dimitrescu's eyes flashed dangerously. The space seemed to shrink around you as she took a deliberate step closer, her gaze never leaving yours.
“Did I stutter?” Her voice was icy.
“N-No, my Lady. I apologize for my misstep.”
She continued to regard you with that menacing glint in her eyes.
“Good,” her tone softened slightly but lost none of its edge. “Then let's not waste any more time, yes?”
You nodded quickly. She turned away, seemingly satisfied with your response.
“Come.”
You followed after her, trying to keep pace with her long, purposeful strides. The morning would be like no other, and you could only pray that you would emerge from it unscathed.
***
The grand double doors of the dining room were pushed open by Lady Dimitrescu with a flourish.
As you stepped inside, your eyes immediately fell upon her daughters, gathered at the far end of the long, polished dining table. They looked almost serene under the sunlight streaming in through the tall, arched windows but you knew better. Apprehension tightened around your chest like a vice. Memories of their previous acts of cruelty flashed through your mind. You had seen the aftermath of their games, the bruised bodies, and the blood-stained floors, and now, being in their presence, you felt like a gazelle being dragged into the lion’s den.
You forced your legs to move, stepping further into the dining room. Each step felt heavier than the last as the sisters' gazes followed you, as if sizing you up.
Bela, the eldest, sat to the right of her mother's chair, her blonde hair falling in soft waves around her face. Her eyes, a bright shade of gold, locked onto yours as you neared the table. There was an intensity to her gaze, flickering over you with a cold, calculating look that made goosebumps travel across your arms. Though you had only seen her in passing, you knew enough about Bela to be cautious. She wasn't as outwardly violent as her two younger sisters, but she could still dish out a swift punishment just like her mother.
Across from her, Cassandra was sprawled lazily in her chair as if it were a throne. She regarded you with a smirk, her eyes glittering with amusement. There was a predatory air about her, a sense of dangerous playfulness that set your nerves on edge. Cassandra seemed to be savoring your discomfort like fine wine.
Next to Bela, Daniela sat in stark contrast to her sisters. She greeted you with a wide, almost manic smile, her eyes alight with an unsettling enthusiasm. Unlike Bela's cool demeanor or Cassandra's mocking danger, Daniela's energy was chaotic and unpredictable. You were grateful that you never had to interact with her either since you were first brought to this castle.
You flinched as Lady Dimitrescu’s hand suddenly landed on your left shoulder, her grip solid but gentle. She guided you around the table and led you to an open seat next to Cassandra.
“Good morning, girls,” Lady Dimitrescu greeted as she took her seat at the head of the table. “I apologize for the delay.”
“No worries, mother. I’m happy that you’re able to be here with us.” Bela said, her voice warm. You could have sworn you’d seen her eyes sparkle with fondness as she glanced at her mother.
But your attention soon shifted to the food in front of you. The table itself was a sight to behold. A colorful assortment of freshly cut fruits and warm bread rolls were all laid out before you. Bowls of creamy porridge, still steaming, were placed around the table as well. It's a feast fit for royalty, a sight you never imagined you'd see in your life. As you grew up, meals were meager, often consisting of whatever scraps could be put together. You remembered the days when even a simple loaf of bread was a rare treat.
The doors near the back of the dining room suddenly swung open, and two maids stepped out, pushing a silver cart. The cart held a few wine glasses and one large, red wine bottle. As the maids approached, their eyes met yours. You saw a flicker of emotions – shock, confusion, and concern – pass across their faces but they quickly masked their expressions and continued with their duties. Each glass was carefully filled to just the right level. As soon as that was done, they immediately left without another glance in your direction.
You didn’t recognize them, but the weight of their stares left a lingering discomfort in your gut. You could already hear the whispers that would soon circulate among the staff. What will Catalina think once she hears about you dining with the Dimitrescu family?
You gazed down at the bowl of porridge in front of you. Your stomach rumbled in anticipation, and you just realized that you hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning, so you picked up your spoon and dug in.
The first bite was heavenly, the creamy texture and subtle sweetness dancing on your taste buds. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment, letting the warmth spread through your body. You were halfway through your meal when you felt something unsettling.
A strange, tickling sensation crept up your left arm. You glanced down and saw a small fly scurrying up your sleeve. You yelped and dropped the spoon, letting it clatter loudly against the table. Lady Dimitrescu’s gaze snapped toward you and then to her middle child.
“Cassandra.” Lady Dimitrescu's voice was a blend of warning and irritation.
You followed her gaze and Cassandra sat there with an expression of exaggerated innocence. She batted her eyes, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. “What? What happened?”
Cassandra's eyes shifted to yours for a moment, the smirk now fully formed.
“Your games are not amusing, Cassandra,” Lady Dimitrescu began, her tone firm. “As we discussed last night. She will be sharing future meals with us from now on. I expect you all to be on your best behavior.”
Wait. They talked about you?
Before you could dwell too long on the thought, Daniela’s voice chimed in. “I’m finally happy I’m allowed to be around you now. Having to wait all this time was torture.”
You scrunched your eyebrows together in confusion, trying to make sense of what she just said. “What do you mean?”
“Never mind that, dear. Let us enjoy this meal together.” Lady Dimitrescu interjected smoothly, her tone brooking no argument.
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling like a pawn in a game you didn't fully understand.
Just then, a prickling sensation ran down the back of your neck. It was the unmistakable feeling of being watched. You tried to ignore it at first, but the intensity grew until you couldn't help but glance around the table. Your eyes landed on Bela. She watched you with an inscrutable expression, her eyes dark and unreadable. There was something unsettling in the way she held your gaze, neither hostile nor friendly, but piercing, as if she could see through you.
You couldn't shake the feeling that Bela knew something – something you desperately needed to uncover. But for now, all you could do was play along.
@ion-news @fanfiction8080 @cryiner
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xxacademy · 2 days
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SCARS AND ALL
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gf!Jill Valentine x gn!Reader
SUMMARY: When your beloved girlfriend comes home from a difficult work trip it brings up complex feelings of love and trauma. But, it’s nothing that can’t be mended, especially by sharing each other’s loving affection.
WORD COUNT: 1.6k
CONTENT WARNINGS: fluff, established relationship, past emotional trauma, weapons (mentioned, not used), descriptions of injuries, wound cleaning, terms of endearment, kissing, & bathing.
She reminds you of a quiet forest in early spring. So lush, and full of life—but always perpetually raining. You find comfort in her beauty, but like that vernal forest, her mind is always a storm. Restless and pouring, her thoughts swirl with pain and grief, and it worries you sick. Rain, rain, rain. You can only hope for better days, you hope she can find the calm within her inner sanctum. For one day, the sun must come out.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
"You're back," you sighed as Jill stood in your home's entryway. She wore black skin-tight jeans and a really broken-in denim jacket.
She took a deep breath, dropping her bags on the hardwood floor. "I'm back, finally."
You wrapped your arms around Jill, squeezing her tight into your embrace. She rested her head into the crook of your neck, soaking in your touch.
"I missed your smell, y'know," Jill whispered into your skin.
And you missed hers dearly. Jill had a particular smell of moss, fresh air, linen, and sandalwood. It was something of a drug to you.
You slowly ran your hand up her back and combed your fingers through her short brown strands, tucking a piece behind her ear to reveal her face.
A large, fresh wound splayed across her cheek and nose. Dried blood was crusted around the edges, and her cheek was speckled with a purplish-green bruise.
Your heart skipped a beat, and your shaky hands traced along the perimeter of her cut. "Jill—"
"It's fine, I promise."
"What do you mean it's fine? You're beat to shit."
"That's how it goes, you know that," Jill retorted.
"I'm not trying to overreact, I just…"
"You just what?"
"Jill, I feel bad— I just feel bad seeing you hurt all the time."
"It's just a cut. You don't need to worry about me," she said, reaching her hand to her face and feeling her wound.
"It's not just the cut, I'm aware you get hurt. But, I worry about you, I know this wears you down."
"We can talk about this later. I'm not in the mood."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dig," you said, apologetically kissing Jill on the forehead.
"It's okay, I know. This is just a me thing." she sighed into your neck, her voice sounding heavy and tired.
"You need a bath, though," you laughed faintly.
"I smell disgusting."
You breathed deeply, "I mean, there's a bit of what I assume is monster blood in your hair."
"A day in the life of Agent Jill Valentine, I guess." she chuckled sarcastically, pressing a kiss to your neck. "But seriously, though, I'm getting in the bath."
She left your embrace, but not without a kiss, and faintly pressed her lips against yours. "It's good to be home," she smiled, heading for the bathroom.
While Jill was in the bath, you got to work unpacking her bags. First was a duffle bag filled with clothes, an array of guns, knives, ammo, more guns, and Jesus Christ. How many weapons does this woman need?
You pulled out her blood-stained clothes and put them into the wash. The weapons went onto a towel next to the safe, she'll want to clean them before putting them away.
You held her favored combat knife in your hand. The blade was worn down and nicked from years of use and many sharpenings. It was crusted with dried blood and yellowish pus.
This very knife has saved her for damn near everything, but it brought you to tears thinking of all she had to live through. Jill was never the one who needed saving. She's always been the protector. But at what cost? It was always at the expense of her own freedom and well-being.
Your precious girl deserved to be free from the hell that is her inner world.
She had a backpack that was mainly filled with folders, notebooks, medication, and whatever random shit she picked up from her two weeks away. You left that bag for her to deal with, though; she would actually murder you if you misplaced an important document.
Jill called your name from the bathroom, and you instantly met her there.
"What is it?" you asked. Jill was sitting in the bath, her chest pressed into her knees, wincing as she ran her hand down her back.
"My back, I got hit there and need help with it." she cracked.
You sat on the edge of the tub and inspected the damage. An angry red slice from a blade ran from her shoulder blade to her lower back.
"God, I think it's infected," you said, analyzing the swelling around the wound.
"Of course it is," Jill huffed.
"Just hang on, I'll clean it." You rummaged for a first aid kit from under the sink. Although you're not a nurse, at this point, you should be.
You prepped a cloth with alcohol and held it up to her wound, "It's gonna hurt, okay," you tried to warn her, but the shock was more than Jill could have expected.
She winced, recoiling back as you dragged the cold burn of the alcohol along her irritated skin.
"Ow, oh my god, that fucking hurts!" she exclaimed through gritted teeth.
"I'm sorry. Just give me a second, and I'll be done."
You got her cut cleaned up. Jill's head rested on her knees, which exposed her bruise-ridden body.
Regardless, she was perfect. Her pretty olive skin contrasted warmly against the bubble bath. Her arms were muscular, with raised veins running down her long, dainty fingers.
Although the thought of the bruises made your stomach ache, they undoubtedly made her look tough but no less beautiful.
"Okay, my love, you should be better. Is there anything else I can do for you?" you asked, standing up.
Jill's head still rested on her knees as she answered, "No, that should be everything."
"Okay then," you headed for the door, wanting to give her some privacy.
"Where are you going?" Jill said as you were stepping out the doorway.
"Just to the kitchen, why?"
"You should stay."
"Music to my ears," you hummed, stepping back. And resume your spot perched on the side of the tub.
"It's awfully lonely in this big tub all by myself," Jill said shyly, rubbing soap along her arms. "And how am I supposed to get clean without your help?"
A smirk formed on your lips. "Hmm, I wonder what I can do to fix that?"
"I'm not sure, but I know you can figure it out," she smirked, languidly rubbing soap into her skin.
"Fine," you stripped your clothes and placed them into a pile on the floor.
"You're gorgeous, you know that?" Jill's sleepy eyes admired everything about your figure.
Your cheeks heated as you stepped into the steaming hot bath. You sat behind Jill, with her placed between your legs.
You let out a long sigh as you adjusted to the water temperature, wrapping your arms around her.
Jill took your hand in hers and placed tiny kisses along your knuckles. "I'm tired, so unbelievably tired," she exhaled, leaning back into your chest.
"I wish I could make things better for you." you sighed as you stroked your fingers through her short brown hair.
Jill paused momentarily, swallowing as she found the words, "You already make things better for me. You make life better. You're everything to me."
You couldn't help but feel like it wasn't true. But why would she lie? She makes your life infinitely better, but for a reason you couldn't place, you felt like you weren't that person for her.
Perhaps you felt like her sense of duty outweighed her love for you, Or maybe you couldn't fully understand her trauma.
Your heart skipped, and the only thing you could manage was, "Really?"
"Don't act so surprised; at this point, you're the only thing keeping me sane. You get me through the literal gates of hell."
You laughed genuinely, and your cheeks flushed with warmth.
"See like your laugh, God, how I love your laugh. It reminds me of Summer if that makes any sense."
You laughed again, and a little pit in your belly swelled with warmth. "And you remind me of rain. Your voice is so calm and pretty. It's like water droplets on our window."
"You're quite the poet, I take it," Jill smirked and rolled around so her stomach pressed to yours.
"Only for you." you grinned, tucking a damp strand of hair behind Jill's ear. This angle provided you with an absolutely superb view of her eyes. Although heavy and tired, they radiated love-- love swirled by endless bounds of dark blue ocean. You couldn't resist her any longer and pulled her into a soft, intimate kiss.
Your pouty lips refrained from deepening the kiss too far. The tip of your tongue grazed against hers like a gentle dance. She tasted dizzyingly sweet. Jill gracefully rolled your lip between her teeth, biting and then sucking softly.
"My pretty girl," you mumbled into the kiss, drunk off her taste.
She ran her hand up your chest, your neck, and settled on your cheek, her thumb stroking your jaw with the lightest touch.
Jill pulled away and rested in your embrace, head on your chest, eyes closed. "I'm so happy to be home," she sighed.
You hugged her tight into your chest. "I'm happy you're home, my love."
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
Something darker than you'll ever know lingers behind Jill’s blue eyes. A darkness that she holds securely within herself. But, the sun does rise, and for Jill, you're her sun. The one person who can love her, scars and all.
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ovaryacted · 5 months
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FORGOTTEN DREAMS
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PAIRING: DI!Leon x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS: Coming back from his mission to Alcatraz, Leon wasn't expecting to have old desires from his past haunt him at his current age. Being his partner, you comfort him and try to fulfill his hidden wishes.
CONTENT/WARNINGS: 18+/MDNI. NSFW. Smut. Porn with some plot. Angsty at the beginning. Brief talks of trauma. Established relationship (Leon & Reader are engaged/married). Assumed ages (Leon is 38, Reader is an adult so 25+). Breeding Kink (reciprocated both ways). Mating Press. Creampie. Unprotected sex (p/v). Oral Sex (f receiving). Dirty Talk. Multiple Orgasms. Domesticity. Intimacy. Relationship conversations.
WC: 3.6k
NOTES: Hey, surprise surprise. I don't know where this came from, but I just started thinking about older Leon as a dad, and paired with me ovulating, I came up with this. Wanted to get something out before the end of the year, so I hope you like it. Happy New Year from wherever you are! Comments & reblogs are always appreciated!
✰ ── 《 Navigation ⟡ Main Masterlist ⟡ AO3 》
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Leon always believed he couldn’t have the things he’s always wanted, that he was destined for a life of misery.
Ever since that night in September all those years ago, he’d lost hope of the idea of the American Dream, a fantasy that was destroyed by the horrors of the same country he was forced to serve and protect. He once imagined his life would be different, living in the suburbs in a house with a white picket fence. Perhaps he’d have a pretty spouse, a few kids, maybe even a dog, he was always fond of bloodhounds and golden retrievers.
But of course, that wasn’t his reality.
So he accepted his fate the moment he miraculously made it out alive from Raccoon City, letting go of any control he had to change his life. He didn’t expect to live this long in the first place, foregoing any extensive plans for a future that remained uncertain with every mission he was sent on. No matter what he did, he remained stuck in a never-ending loop of dread, constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop to be released from the torment of a life he did not choose to have.
That was, until he met you. He didn’t know how he managed to get so lucky to experience a sense of normalcy in his life, albeit it felt like he was always dreaming, waiting for the moment he’d wake up and see you slip away in his arms.
But you didn’t, you never left.
Leon wakes up every morning with the opportunity to take a glimpse at your sleeping face, taking every feature you had into memory. You granted him the chance to experience domesticity, something that was foreign to him at first, but he got adjusted to it and quickly began to crave it. You were what he wanted, a chance at peace in the hellscape that was his life. And over time, he didn’t have a doubt in his mind when he popped the question and happily slipped a ring on your finger when you told him yes.
Having someone waiting back at home was another added motivation for Leon to make it out alive, to return to you. All he ever wants is to be able to fall asleep in your arms after a long day, to have his head nuzzling into your neck and hear you giggling when his stubble tickled you too much. It was what he needed, and he silently thought that after all this time, as long as he had you he’d be happy.
That was why when he came back after his mission to Alcatraz, his new thoughts began to take him off guard. The same desires he had buried for so long slipped out of the crevices of his mind and began to plague him. The desire for more, for the things he never thought he could have. It was like his biological time clock was quickly turning into a ticking time bomb of anxiety ready to explode if it were suppressed any longer. He already had more than what he bargained for, he was alive, he had a home, and he had you. That should be enough, more than enough.
So why does he want more? Wanting anything else felt wrong and undeserving, so he never vocalized it. But you could tell something was on his mind and had been bothering him since he had returned.
It first started with the longing stares, where you’d often catch Leon looking your way a bit too fondly, as if he were taking you in for the last time before looking away. He was always an affectionate person, at least around you, but he was growing clingy. He was never that far away, usually holding your hand and caressing your fingers, cuddling up with you, and stroking your body whenever he could. Not to mention the sex, it was always passionate, always fun, and enjoyable, but recently it was as if Leon did it so frequently with so much vigor that you almost got worried.
No matter how calm he seemed, you knew him well enough to read him by now, and the small changes in his behavior showed you that something else was going on, that he was acting differently. 
“You’re thinking again”, you stated matter-of-factly, watching Leon stare off in the distance as he rubbed his bottom lip over and over again. Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, bringing him back to the present as he glanced at you.
“I’m getting old”, he said with a sigh, rubbing your legs that were currently propped up on his thighs from where you lay on the bed with him.
“You’re not getting old, you’re getting older. Big difference”, you commented, hearing him chuckle under his breath. That wasn’t entirely what he meant, but he didn’t know how to say what he wanted without possibly scaring you away or jinxing himself.
“Are you happy? With me I mean?”, he asked you the question in a soft tone, not to signal that he was unhappy with your relationship, but rather he was thinking about something regarding you being together.
“Of course I am. You make me happy. I wouldn’t have said yes if that wasn’t the case”, you told him reassuringly, moving closer to him to hold him by the cheek.
“I guess what I’m asking is are you happy with just me, just us”, Leon said the question as if he were afraid, and you raised an eyebrow to gauge his reaction.
“Leon, if you want to get a pet or something we can. I think a cat would be kinda nice”, you said to him, and he looked at you with a wide grin before he laughed, actually laughed. For a second you’re assuming you said something wrong, but when he regains his bearings, he grabs a hold of your hand and runs his thumbs over your knuckles.
“Although a pet sounds good, that’s not exactly what I’m talking about”, he offered you a smile, giving you a second to think harder about his suggestion when he could see the lightbulb going off at the top of your head.
Kids?
“You’ve been thinking about kids?”
“Is it bad that I am?”
In a way, the revelation that Leon was thinking of having a family was surprising and took you off guard. When you met him, he initially struck you as a family man or someone who would want that down the line. So when he told you that wasn’t on his mind nor a goal of his, you took his word for it and stayed with him because that didn’t bother you, you loved him anyway. Now, it seems that he’s had a change of heart, and it sparked your interest.
“Well no…I don’t think it’s a bad thing. Thought you told me you never wanted them?”, you asked him, leaning into him closer and putting a warm hand on his chest.
“I said that because I didn’t think I could have them. But since coming back from Alcatraz…I don’t know, I keep thinking about it”, he shrugged under you, not meeting your gaze and looking down to the floor.
“I wanted a family when I was younger, but with all the shit I went through I just didn’t think it was possible, or that I could have it. So I simply forgot about it. But now..it popped back into my head and I’ve been thinking about it for a while”
Your eyes softened as you looked at him, seeing the gears turning in his mind. 
“It’s probably the old man hormones or something, I must be having a mid-life crisis”, he was joking, trying to use his humor to downplay how he felt, the way he usually did when he was dealing with something that made him uneasy.
“Babe, if you’re thinking about having kids you should’ve told me. I don’t mind you know, I think it’s endearing”, you whispered to him, now holding his face in your hands and offering him your warm gaze.
“So you don’t think I’m crazy for wanting them? Now of all times? I don’t think I should be wanting more than I already have”, you shook your head at that, knowing that Leon would feel guilty for having desires, that he had no room to be selfish.
“I think you deserve to have everything you want, regardless of what they may be. And if kids are on the list, then that’s okay, it’s what you want”, you were speaking to him in a confident voice, the one you used when you were trying to gently knock some sense into him.
“I don’t even know if you want them, with me anyway”, his eyebrows furrowed, hellbent on the assumption that you wouldn’t think twice about avoiding having children, much less have them with him.
“You aren’t the only one who’s been thinking about them you know”, his eyes widened at your confession, and your smile turned a bit sheepish.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. Guess the hormones are also working overtime for me”
Leon blinked once, then twice. You fixated on the way the blues of his irises shifted, reminiscent of the clear sky after a storm had passed. But in reality, what you were looking at was hope interwoven in his eyes, a rare emotion that you’ve only seen a handful of times.
“Is that a yes then?”, you could see the way his lips began to curl up, an optimistic grin plastered on his face now, looking for an answer that would calm the excited beating of his heart. 
“If you want to try, then we can try. And whatever happens, happens”, you reassured him once more, feeling him sit up straighter on the bed to kiss you on the lips.
“I love you, you know that?”
“You’ve told me a few times, but I don’t mind reminders”, you grinned at him, finding yourself tackled to the bed the next moment with laughs filling the room.
-
The next few days felt like a blur, basking in the domestic bliss that otherwise would’ve been a rarity for Leon, he found ways to keep you occupied.
Just like he did now.
Currently with your back on the bed, Leon’s head was between your plush thighs, lapping away at your cunt sometime at noon. It was Sunday, a day of rest meant to hide away from all of your responsibilities and chores. But of course, Leon had different plans when it came to keeping you busy.
“Fuck Leon”, you said with a loud moan, a light layer of sweat covering your body as your fingers yanked at his head, bringing him closer to where you wanted him. Leon groaned against you, tongue curling around your pulsing clit and forcing an arch in your back.
He already pulled one release out of you earlier, right after he found you on the couch wearing nothing but a worn-out T-shirt of his you stole years ago. He couldn’t help but fall in between your legs, head against your chest so he could listen to your heart beating in his ear. The comforting rhythm put Leon at ease, his hands running down the length of your thighs and kneading at your skin while you watched whatever show was currently on the screen. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, already seeing the mischievousness he had written all over his face.
“What are you doing?”, your attention moved from the TV screen to the top of his head, focused on the movement of his hands on your body.
“Nothing”, he told you playfully, his hands were already slipping under the edge of where your shirt covered the top of your hips. He shifted higher up to place a kiss on your lips, moving to your neck and nipping at you gently.
“Just keep watching your show”
It was the last thing he told you before his fingers found refuge in the welcoming warmth of your pussy, rubbing at your clit as you quickly forgot about the plot twist happening in front of you. He was a distraction, as he always was, but you’d never turn him away, you couldn’t even if you tried. And now, you were willingly paying the price of his affection.
Heat started to build up in your lower spine the more you felt Leon’s mouth on you, his needy tongue flicking against every sensitive spot you had before burrowing inside you. It was muscle memory for him, knowing exactly what to do and how to make you fall apart with skill. With every moan you gave, every twitch and shake of your body, Leon drank it all, trying to drown himself in the intensity of your pleasure whenever he had you like this. In between your legs, sucking away at where you needed him most, it was where he belonged.
Your hips were against his face, grinding into him and having his nose press into your clit again, pulling another airy whimper out of you. His hair was wrapped around your fingers, trying to listen in to the shameless sounds Leon made when more of your slick entered his mouth. To him, you tasted like honey, sweet on his tongue like molasses. It was something that curbed his sweet tooth, completely addicted to a taste that only you created when he made you feel good.
“I’m gonna cum, fuck f-fuck”, you didn’t need to announce it, Leon already knew from the way your walls were pulsating around his tongue that you were getting close.
Slipping away from your clenching hole, his tongue went up to run circles against your nub, sucking at it in pulses and snapping the rope of tension in your gut. Your breathing remained stuck in your throat as your second release ran through you, your shaky thighs pinned to his broad shoulders and his mouth continued to prolong your climax. He didn’t stop until the waves of your orgasm calmed down and ebbed away, where only a light pleasurable numbness remained and a dumb smile was left on your face.
No longer feeling you convulsing around him, Leon gave your clit one last kiss before coming back up from between your legs, matching your smile with one of his own. Plush lips covered in your essence, his charm radiated off of him every time he achieved the feat of making you cum.
“Feel good?”, he said teasingly, meshing his lips with yours with a pleasant hum. His tongue curled around your own, giving you a taste of yourself that you graciously took and reveled in. 
“I feel good, but I can feel better”, you drew away from his face, giving him a smirk and tugging him closer to you by the waistband of his briefs. With a sneaky hand, you slipped your fingers underneath the soft cotton, gripping his hard length to touch him properly. You heard him grunt again, his breath hitching when you took his earlobe between your teeth and whispered at him.
“I want you inside me already”, you practically purred at him, a shiver running through him followed by another chuckle. Your vulgarity wasn’t new, but it was always something Leon found amusing.
“Yeah? You need me to fuck you sweetheart?”, he wasn’t asking you necessarily, more so reiterating facts that didn’t need your confirmation. Because you did want him to fuck you, you needed it and he knew it. Your hazy eyes watched as he stripped off his briefs, instinctively opening your legs for him, a silent invitation that you craved more.
“Want you to fuck a baby into me”
For a second Leon froze, his eyes widening at your words as they rang in his head. The phrase alone did something to him, brought out a new primal instinct he didn’t know existed until now. It festered carnal lust deep in his gut that shot in two directions, up towards his chest with his heart beating rapidly, and in the opposite way where all of his blood began rushing down south. He blinked at you, the blues of his eyes darkening to a sharp cobalt, and in the next second, he was on you so quickly it almost gave you whiplash.
The tip of his cock teased your entrance with two rubs before being sheathed deep inside in one easy thrust. Your body gave no resistance, welcoming the feeling of Leon stretching you out just the way you liked. Strong hands digging into the back of your thighs, he pushed your knees down against the mattress and closer to your chest, letting him slip that much deeper into you and leaving you gasping underneath him.
Dragging his hips back once before slamming back into you with intention, Leon fucked you without restraint, pinning you down against the mattress and ruining you for any other person, past, present, and future. He didn’t change his pace, filling in every possible gap, his dick hitting your deepest spots and kissing your cervix with every push and pull of his body. You swear you could feel him trying to breach your womb, the thought alone turning your head to mush. The urge of wanting him to leave his mark inside you grew like never before, your eyes rolling to the back of your head with another broken sob coming from your lips.
“Gonna fill you up. Is that what you want?”, he muttered, huffing out a breath and pounding his hips into you harshly to where the room filled with an audible skin-slapping sound.
“Yes, yes, I need it so bad!”, you felt him shift, forcing your knees down until they were parallel to your ears and effectively putting you into a mating press. His torso leaned more into you, caging you in and taking in your fucked out face with pride.
“Need me to breed you? Fuck a baby into you, huh?”, letting go of one of your legs to press his thumb against your clit, he rubbed against it and felt you clench around his cock. Your grip on the bedsheets tightened, bleary eyes looking up into him as he fucked you with determination.
“Yeah, I’ll make you a momma don’t you worry”
He said it like it was a promise, a sacred vow he didn’t plan on breaking. It was harsh fucking that was usually reserved for whenever you were both stressed and pent up. But now he was on a mission, making it his personal goal to not stop until he gave you what you both desired.
In the back of his mind, he was imagining what you would look like pregnant. The soft expanse of your stretched-out tummy that continues to grow as your child develops along with you. He pictured the way your body will start to fill in a bit more, becoming more soft and curvy in spots you didn’t consider previously. The heaviness of your breasts and the changes in sensitivity when they filled up with milk, something that he can’t wait to see and taste for himself. Every image that filled his head only made his cock throb and his thrusting intensify.
“Gonna look so pretty, all round for me”, he was lost in his thoughts, mumbling to himself and driving into you so good he hit that soft spot tucked inside. Your mind had turned to static, his words only bringing you that much closer to the edge and your legs shaking from how they were bent.
“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up, make sure it catches, right here”, he placed a finger right underneath your belly button and pressed into your skin, the friction of his touch rapidly sending you into your next orgasm unexpectedly.
Throwing your head back against the pillow, you couldn’t warn Leon when you felt yourself coming again for him, your walls flexing around him and a wail filling the room. His thumb continued to stroke tight circles on your clit as he fucked you through your release, thrusting sloppily against you before cumming inside with a resounding grumble of your name. His hips were flushed with yours, grinding into you until he had nothing left to give, panting against your neck and kissing your nape.
You felt Leon slip out of you, gently putting your legs down back on the bed and his spend starting to drip down your thighs. With two of his fingers, he collected some of his release that spilled out of you and pushed it back inside your body, plugging you up with his digits to make sure none of it would dribble out.
“Can’t waste it, hold it there for me”, he said, making you keen and grip him tighter. Drawing out his fingers, he brought them to your lips, grinning when you wrapped your tongue around them to lick off the remnants of his taste.
“You think this one did it?”, you asked him tiredly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to give him soft pecks, growing clingy and wanting more of his affection.
“Hopefully, but there’s nothing wrong with a little more practice”, Leon smirked at you, giving you a wet passionate kiss and rekindling the flame of desire once more.
You knew that he wasn’t going to stop until he gave you what you both wanted, a happy family in a happy home. Of course, you had zero complaints, you’d do anything to make him happy and give him what he deserves.
Maybe just maybe, Leon will get his dream after all.
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year
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���So…are you and Leon like, a thing?’ Ashley asked from beside you.
‘No. Just business partners.’ You replied shortly.
‘Could’ve fooled me.’ Luis said from your other side as you, him, Ashley followed after Leon’s lead through the harsh rainfall.
You cursed yourself for not wearing weather appropriate clothes and cursed yourself even more so when you felt a tickle within your nose that came out as a harsh sneeze.
‘Achoo!’
Leon stilled in his footfalls as he looked at you, Ashley and Luis from over his shoulder, eyes scanning between the three of you as though determining which one of you three has sneezed but stopped the internal deductions when his grey/blue hues halted on you.
Wordlessly, Leon removed his jacket and walked over to you where he then placed it over your shoulders, his hands lingering a little longer on your arms afterwards. ‘What’re you doing?’ You asked. ‘You were cold,’ he stated rather mater of factly, ‘so until you feel better, keep the jacket on.’
With that being said, Leon then returned to leading the journey fourth as Ashley and Luis both looked at you with teasing smiles and raised brows. ‘Oh shut up, it’s just a jacket.’ You muttered, tugging the article of clothing closer to your being as you walked on ahead of them and after Leon.
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cherubify · 1 month
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SMILE FOR THE CAMERA / LEON KENNEDY
6.1k words
cw: corruption, stalking, doppelganger themes, dirty talk, attempted sa, dubcon, hints of mindbreak/exhibitionism/overstimulation, fingering, creampie, unprotected p-in-v, use of pet names, fellatio, filming, dead dove do not eat, minors dni
a/n: this was written for an anonie's reqqy! it marinated in my wips for a few weeks (mb!) so it feels kinda off to me + i kept changing the title but.. yeah! n special thanks to my trusted beta reader @xoxostarlet!! <3 ok i'll shut up now but enjoy!
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There’s a saying out there– something about how there are more than seven people in the world who share the same face as you. Despite possibly living in a distant community, with a foreign tongue and having one’s own idiosyncrasies, there’s someone out there who resembles you. A doppelganger, is what most people called it, right? Leon hasn’t met anyone who looks like him yet, though he’s heard passersby comment on how he looked like a model whose name was always on the tip of his tongue.
It must be a prank pulled by the heavens when they created people, forgetting to register their creations as solely unique individuals and reusing their faces for a recycled project. At least, that’s what he thinks when he finds yet another film, with its poster girl bearing a striking resemblance to the store clerk. A knowing smile crept up his face as he strolled over to the front desk.
You sat behind a long counter, homework precariously piled up as you scribbled your answers onto the papers. A cash register and your laptop accompanied you on your side. He set his selection of the day beside your papers, prompting you to look up.
“This one again? You borrowed it last week, Mr Kennedy,” you commented with a shaky laugh.
The man on the other side of the counter was an older man with a face and body of strong and hard corners everywhere. He was dressed in grey sweats and a hoodie, the hood draped over his side swept dirty blonde hair. Leon was what he told you to call him, but the desire to maintain personal distance led you to calling him by his family name instead.
“What can I say? It’s a good way to kick my feet up.” His arms were folded on the counter as he leaned towards you.
You snorted inwardly. Yeah, kicking your feet up by getting off to these… morbid tapes, huh? You read the summary of all the films he rented before. They were about dark things you’d never want to be involved in. Random films centred around dark plots, such as Stockholm syndrome, hardcore BDSM and the like. Perfect for twisted people with twisted fantasies. But not for you, you were proud to say you lived a mostly peaceful and non traumatised life, and you would keep it that way.
It’s not that you wanted to kink shame; people could watch whatever they wanted. But having to rent out these tapes to a shameless guy like him was uncomfortable. And he was making you feel even more uncomfortable when he waltzed up to the counter, showing you his findings of the day. What a weirdo. At least act a little embarrassed like the other customers, wouldn’t you?
However, you shoved down your grievances and processed his purchase on the register. Once you finished, you passed both the film and a receipt to him. He took it from your grasp, warm fingers brushing against yours. You immediately withdrew your hand and discreetly rubbed your skin raw against your jeans.
Nothing went unnoticed by him, including your poorly hidden disgust. His lips curled on his face, he knew what you were thinking– most people didn’t relax by renting adult films. If only you knew his true intentions. Why he chose this specific film to rent again.
You jabbed the back of the store with your thumb, attention returning to your homework. Beside the staff room and a tiny toilet, there was another door that led to a room: the viewing room. He entered, closing the door behind him softly. It was furnished the same as always: a family sized couch with cushions. No windows or lights, just a single projector, a screen and speakers. A viewing room to watch the store’s rented shows and only that.
Not that he couldn’t view it at home, but he wanted to do it here. In this room, in the back of a store you had no choice but to man alone. He knew the sounds leaked into the hall and into the sales floor. And the actress in this film had impressively exaggerated moans. Which was why he liked this certain film. He knew your face would be distorted with horror as you struggled to put up with it for the next hour. Plus the second hand embarrassment you experienced when other customers entered (not that there were many to begin with).
He chuckled softly whilst setting up the screening. When it began to play, he slumped onto the couch, arms crossed. He knew you noticed the resemblance you shared with the poster girl. Knew the uneasy glances you’d send him whenever you caught him browsing through the adult film section. It was fun pushing your buttons– seeing your innocent face distort with horror, embarrassment, shame whenever you scanned the films he chose. You certainly noticed the increasing resemblance of all the actresses to you. It was clear as day from the tautness in your smile as you forced out a polite ‘thank you’ when he returned the goods.
He tried to focus on the actress on the screen. A girl who shared the same hair colour and clothing style as you. There were some similarities in your faces, but only as far as the curve of your jaw and the curl of your lips. A mismatch in voice, sure, but when the woman on the screen moaned, he wondered if you replicated such a sound. The thought made him swell a little in his sweats. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch.
Like the girl on screen, he wanted to bend you over a kitchen table as you wore nothing but a frilly apron and underwear. He’d rip your panties off and bury his face between your perfect butt and-
A knock on the door snapped him out of his daze. He paused the show and it creaked open to reveal you, standing hesitantly. Your eyes shifted from him to the screen, pupils dilating as they adjusted to the darkness of the room. You tried to hide the way your eyes flitted from the screen to him. The same old expression on your face as your bottom lip quivered.
“Um… I can hear everything,” you told him- and he knew, but he listened anyway, “It’ll bother the customers, so please keep it down.”
Or go home. He knew those words were on the tip of your tongue. There were no other customers around (probably) but he smiled anyway and complied, just because you asked nicely. He jabbed the volume button once.
“Sure, but maybe a kiss would convince me, darling.” He called out, but you barely heard it over the creaking of the door as you closed it.
Always running away before he could shoot his shot. Like a game of mouse and cat, a fitting analogy considering how you’d tremble in his presence and flee with your metaphorical tail between your legs. He chuckled and resumed the film, the volume a single decibel lower while you sat at the counter, shaking your head.
In your eyes, Leon was a bit of a troublemaker. You weren’t naive enough to be fooled by his clueless facade. You knew that he got a kick out of the distress he put you in when he played his fine selection for the day. He could go home instead– in fact, you had a right to kick him out. But your boss instructed you to be kind to regulars, such as Mr Kennedy here. So what more could you do besides put on your customer service smile and voice? After all, customers were always right. You’d like to believe that if it weren’t for the amount of trouble he gave you by entering the store. If he pushed any further you were sure to blacklist him from the store for good.
When he came out, you watched hopefully. Hoping that he’d walk out of the door. But then he began searching through the aisles and before you knew it, he set another box onto the counter again. An adult film with its poster girl sitting on a couch sultrily, her hair colour and hair parted the way you did yours. Last time his choice was a girl with the same fashion sense as you. All of his selections consisted of girls that took after you. Quite the strange coincidences, but you chalked it up to just you having run-of-the-mill features.
“Come again,” you grimaced inwardly. You hoped he wouldn't, but when he left he cast you a knowing smile over your shoulder. You groaned aloud, because you knew he would.
You worked at the rental video shop temporarily, home from college for summer break when your pockets were emptier than you recalled. This store was an easy choice, simply because it was right across your apartment complex. The close proximity meant you could just tumble out of bed in the morning and clock in with your pjs. The owner was a decrepit man who was out of town half the time, so he couldn’t be bothered with what was happening except meeting the bare sales requirements.
Retail life was no stranger, but this was the most relaxing it had ever been in your job history. It was a joy working in this store, believe it or not. Truly a pity it was only temporary. No naggy managers or bossy coworkers. Just you and the occasional customer wandering among dusty aisles. Speaking of dust…
You checked the time– a few minutes left before closing. It took a mere second to find Leon, whose blonde’s head peaked above a low row of shelves. You guessed he was sifting through another peculiar genre. So you left him to it as you entered the back and into the staff room. Unbeknownst to you, the front door jingled as someone stepped onto the sales floor.
When you finally returned, you were armed with a step ladder and a duster, the latter missing more than half of its feathers. Despite its haggard appearance, it was clearly not being put to use, apparent from the store’s dust infested furniture. Perhaps the store’s sorry state was a contributory factor for the lack of visitors. You set the ladder down at the front of the store and began dusting from top to bottom.
A cough alerted Leon’s attention to you and he peeked up from the boxes in his hands. You stood precariously on the top, a hand clutched over your nose as you dusted a shelf. From where he stood, he could see cotton peeking from your loose shorts. He set the goods down to grip either side of the ladder’s frame.
“I don’t think this rickety thing’s stable enough for you to use, sweetheart,” he commented, prompting you to look at him. “You should come down before you fall.”
“I’m fine, Mr Kennedy. I’ve got everything under control,” you began cleaning again when you inhaled some dust. Your eyebrows furrowed, then your face crinkled as you sneezed. And ironically you fell. A shout and a thud followed, and you found yourself in his arms.
He had an awkward grip on you, having caught you suddenly with open arms. His arm was wrapped around your thighs and the space below your shoulder blades. The vice grip on the fat of your thighs caused your face to explode with red.
“Oh my god- I’m sorry!” You gasped as you wriggled in his arms, begging to be put down. He yielded and you were onto your feet again. You backed away from him, hands clasped apologetically. “I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you? Are you- are you okay?”
He laughed, and it’s an airy, low sound. The regular crossed his arms and leaned against the ladder. “I’m fine. And you?”
“Y-Yeah. But I guess I should throw this out,” you rubbed the back of your head sheepishly.
“Let me,” he offered and he swiftly walked out with it in tow. The entrance jingled before closing behind him as he disappeared.
You rubbed your arms awkwardly, the heat from your face dissipating as you exhaled shakily. Maybe you were wrong about him. Leon was quite a nice guy. Now, if it weren’t for his weird fetishes, maybe you’d give him a chance. You shook your head. What were you thinking? He was just a customer. You sighed and picked up your fallen duster.
You turned your back to an approaching man. Footsteps behind you prompted you to look up, and you expected a blonde but was mistaken. Your face was shoved against a shelf, the old thing creaked as it leaned back then back onto its corners. Your wrists were held behind you by a gloved hand, and you strained to see the perpetrator but the grip on the back of your head prevented you.
“Just stay quiet and it’ll be over soon,” it was a hushed voice, unfamiliar and muffled. “–be a good girl and stay still.”
“Who are you calling a good girl?” You gritted your teeth and struggled against your captor’s hold. “If you don’t let me go, I’ll-”
“Uh uh–” something cold pressed against your neck. Was that… a knife? “–It’d be better if you don’t struggle.”
You froze as the blade dug into the column of your throat. The stranger released your wrists to wander a gloved hand along the curve of your spine. It hurt to swallow, and you struggled to breathe as the molestor’s hand dipped into your shorts. Was this how your summer break would end? An assault in the store you part-timed in for quick cash?
Your train of thought was derailed when a grunt echoed in the store. The blade was withdrawn and clattered onto the floor, and you whirled around to find a masked man collapsed on the floor. Standing behind him was Leon, who swiftly pocketed a gun into a holster on his belt. You gaped at him– has he always carried that on him?
“Are you okay?” Leon stepped over the body to grip your shoulders. His wide eyes scrutinised your smaller frame. “Did he hurt you?”
You looked at his hands then at him, “I… I think I’m alright.”
The man frowned and studied the unconscious man with a hardened expression. He dialled for the cops and filed a brief report. Afterwards, he dragged the molester outside the store, where he tied his wrists to a lamp post. The man was limp throughout, unconscious from whatever Leon had pulled. You clutched your arms as you sat at the cash register, eyes fixated on the counter.
A first aid kit came into view. Leon stood on the other side, a sheepish smile on his lips. “I found this in the back,” he said softly, digging through it. He produced a disinfectant wipe and a bandaid.
Only when he reached out to you did you notice the wound on your neck. It stung, and you gingerly touched it. Beads of blood sat on your finger. It was a little cut that had bled into the collar of your top. He dabbed the swab of disinfectant against the wound, and you hissed. His hand found yours, and he held it as you squirmed in your seat.
“It’ll sting for a bit, but better safe than sorry,” he murmured.
“I’m not a wuss, I can take it- Ow!” You jumped in your seat when he pushed the swab deeper against the cut. The two of you exchanged a look, and the corner of his lips tilted up in amusement. You kept your eyes on the ceiling, lips pursed.
Then he placed a bandaid over the wound and his fingers ghosted over it. “There. All better,” he sighed.
He withdrew his hand except the one in yours. You ogled at the larger hand in yours, at the way his slender fingers were comfortably interlaced with your shaky ones. Just like two pieces of a puzzle, perfectly slotted into one another. You tried to banish the thought. You exhaled softly, and you squeezed your trembling lips together into a feeble smile.
“Thanks, Leon.”
“Don’t mention it,” he smiled back. In that moment, he was all you could see. Not the arrival of the police car outside the store or the officers standing by the criminal, but just him.
A moment of silence passed before he spoke again. “So I take it you’re dropping the formalities?”
The blonde was referencing how you always called him by his family name and not his first name. You refused to answer, the faint blush on your cheeks sufficed. He squeezed your hand, and you squeezed back.
Leon accompanied you for the rest of the night. He stayed beside you in the police station, drove you back to the store and assisted you in the cleaning duties. Despite the incident, life moved on, and you were responsible for the night duty chores as the sole employee. Areas unaccessible by you were managed by him, and you found yourself appreciating his company. Although he was a creepy regular, he was quite sweet. You didn’t have to force yourself to laugh at his crappy jokes that night.
And though you were pretty sure he shouldn’t know where you lived, you let him accompany you to your doorstep after closing shift. He bid you goodbye with a gentle pat on your head, and you found yourself staring at the place he stood for a while. You sat in your bathtub, hugging your knees to your chest. Water enveloped your body in the cold of midnight, and you leaned your head against the cool tiles. Your eyes were glazed over with tears as you recounted the recent events.
Thank goodness he was there. If Leon hadn’t been there, something terrible would’ve happened. You wanted to see him again. Maybe you’d give him a thank you gift. It’d be only fair, right?
. . .
“What’s business like this week?” He enquired as you scanned the good in your hand. This time he came in with a different colour of sweats, with a stain on the hem of his blue sweater.
It had been a while since you last saw him. Maybe a week since that night.
“Slow,” you sighed, returning the film to him. The colours on the box’s cover were washed out, and the actress was a blurry blob of colours. Her hair colour and body type matched yours, but that was all you could make out. So you chose to close an eye. “My boss is gonna be so mad about the sales.”
“My bad. If it weren’t for work, I’d be here more often,” the blonde commented.
“You’re a hard worker, aren’t you?” You teased, to which he placed a hand over his heart.
“You don’t know half of it, sweetheart.” Your cheeks tingled at the pet name. Wait– what? “The higher ups owe me more breaks.”
You cleared your throat. “Even if you did, don’t you have better places to be?”
“I’d say you make good company,” he grinned boyishly. Your heart fluttered a little. Wow, what was seriously happening to you?
“Anyways-” He tilted the film in his hand, “-wanna watch this together?”
Fat chance. Just because he was growing on you didn’t mean you were ready to sit in a tiny room with him on a couch, just the two of you in the dark. You’d tell him that, but he read your expression independently and laughed. When he disappeared into the viewing room, your attention turned to the register’s screen where an alert had popped up.
Invalid barcode. Please contact staff.
Huh? You copied the barcode number and manually entered it into the system. The same system popup appeared and you scratched your head, confused. Muffled noises leaked into the sales floor and you stepped away from the counter. Maybe he took a show that failed to register in the system?
You stood outside the door and listened. Was now a good time to enter? You hesitated and held the door knob. A soft moan stopped you in your tracks– followed by a whimper and some incoherent noises.
Weird. For a second there it almost sounded like you. Was the actress a sound-alike too?
You finally opened the door, peaking into the room as the door creaked ajar. It was dark as you expected, just the singular beam of light from the projector that shone onto the screen. Strange enough, you found no one on the couch, only a rolling film on screen. Your dilated pupils shifted to the screen, and you practically swung the door open.
A girl– no, it was you. You were on screen. Laying on bed with a fluffy towel crumpled beside you as your body glistened with droplets, courtesy of your bath. A bead of sweat trailed down your nape, dumbfounded as the you from that night had her fingers buried between her trembling legs. Your face was contorted with pleasure, and you bit the back of your hand to stifle your delighted noises.
How? This couldn’t be happening. You wanted to assure yourself that it was fake, but even you knew there was no denying its authenticity. The camera was shaky, and you scrunched up your brows. The angle… you recognised the angle. You were being filmed from your bedroom windows.
The scene abruptly cut to another one, this time it was of you in your bedroom, standing naked before your mirror. Your hands traced your silhouette, hands wandering down your naked body as you inspected yourself in the mirror. Sleepwear and underwear were gathered haphazardly in a pile behind you. A matching set of underwear on your bed.
It felt like a giant ball of cotton was shoved into your mouth; you swallowed dryly. Your feet moved and you stood behind the couch, your knees feeling like they may give out at any moment. This was last week. How did such a creep go unnoticed by you? Who was filming you? And how did all these get into the store? And– You searched the room frantically. Where was Leon?
The door creaked closed, and you found the devil himself blocking the way out. Another clip played on screen, and you pried your eyes from him to look back at it in horror.
“Nicely edited, don’t you think?” His sneakers thumped against the carpet softly. He stood behind you, arms trapping you against the couch from behind. You flinched at the warm breath that fanned your ear. His fingers fiddled with the hem of your shirt.
“I think I deserve a round of applause for it.”
“L-Leon…” your voice cracked. You should be screaming and pushing him off, like you did before with that man. This was a similar situation, right? So why was your heart hammering in your chest like this?
“What is it, sweetheart?”
His voice was a low murmur against your ear, and you shivered. His voice sounded like it was literally in your head, reverberating in the cavern of your mind. Your breath hitched as a warm hand slid under your shirt.
He unclasped your bra with ease, and his hands slid under it to gently cup the curves of your chest. His hands engulfed them easily, and he fondled them half-heartedly while pressing soft kisses along the column of your neck. His lips grazed over the scabbed wound, and you gripped the couch to stabilise yourself.
You should hate it, but your voice failed to protest when he led you to the couch to lay down. He bundled the hem of your top into your mouth, muffling your squeaks when he slipped his hands underneath your loose bra to run his fingers along the circumference of your areola. His thumbs prodded at your nipples, and you squirmed a little at the tingling sensations running along your chest. He pushed your bra aside and flicked his tongue against one of your nipples. Your fingers gripped the blonde’s tresses whilst he teased your perky buds with his warm tongue, lapping at them painfully slowly.
Leon’s other hand traced down your body until he reached your bottoms. He tugged it off your legs, throwing it behind his shoulder. His fingers wandered to the gusset of your panties where a damp patch had formed. The regular stroked your slit through the thin cloth, and you whimpered softly at his ministrations. All the while his eyes were fixated on you, never looking away as he licked your chest like a starving pup begging for milk.
He pulled your panties aside to squeeze a finger into your tightness, and your gaze shifted to where he was connected to you. A finger disappeared into you, and you squeezed your thighs in disapproval as he tried to fit another. Not that it could stop him when he forced into you one more, and you trembled at the stretch from his digits. The blonde wrapped his tongue around one of the swollen buds on your chest, his free hand pinching and tugging on the other.
“Mhnn,” you hummed softly. Moisture clung to your lashes.The intensity in his baby blues beckoned you into the brink of your sanity, and you threw your head back to guard yourself against his tempting call.
“Don’t be shy,” he withdrew from your chest with a pop. He tugged your top out of your mouth. “Let me hear you, sweetheart. Moan for me.”
His padded fingers prodded inside you experimentally , and a certain spot elicited an embarrassingly loud mewl. The blonde grinned boyishly as he fingered that gummy spot, jamming into it harder and deeper with each cry he drew out of you. Biting the back of your hand, your lashes fluttered unsteadily as you twisted and turned, a strange feeling pulsating deep within you. Your hand found purchase in his hair again, tugging on his silky strands in a silent plea. Whether to stop or for more, only god knew.
But then he stopped, and the heat from his body dissipated. You opened your eyes to see the man shed his sweater, pulling the navy blue article over his scarred body. With a shaky hand, you placed your hand over a scar on his chest and traced the protruding tissue. You frowned- what he had gone through to amass the plethora of scars before you?
The jingling of his belt tore your attention back to his torso. He tugged his pants down to reveal the bulging outline of his hard-on through his boxers. You didn’t mean to stare, but you struggled to tear your eyes away and it didn’t go unnoticed by him. He carded his bangs with his fingers, pushing them back as he smirked.
“Like what you see? ‘Cuz my eyes are up here.”
Your ears were hot, and you held your breath as he pressed a kiss to your knee. Then he kissed the inside of your thighs until he reached your clothed core, to the drenched gusset of your panties. His lips quirk up in a pleased smirk, and he kissed it before tugging your panties off. It landed atop your long forgotten bottoms, and he swept them off the couch and they crumpled onto the floor.
He planted his hands on either side of you, trapping you underneath him. But for some reason you weren’t scared, no, your heart pounded in anticipation when he leaned in. Maybe you wanted this all along, and you stared into his deep blue eyes when fists suddenly pounded on the door. The thuds echoed in the viewing room, and the both of you jumped.
“Excuse me? Hello…? Is anyone around?”
Your eyes flitted to the door and at the knob as it jingled. But Leon had locked it earlier- thank god- and the customer repeated their question once more. You hesitated before opening your mouth, but he clamped his hand over your lips. You shot him a look, but he answered you with a deep kiss. His plush lips tangled with yours, biting and gnawing on the softness of your own. His kiss was like the ocean, an uncharted wonder that submerged you deeper and deeper with each press of his lips against yours. No thoughts resided in your head, all you could think about was him and his warmth.
Meanwhile, he pushed the back of your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest. The weight of his upper body sandwiched them to your swollen chest, and he ran a finger between your sticky folds before finally slipping in.
He growled against the corner of your lips, and your nails wandered along his back. Pink crescents glowed red as you dug your nails under his shoulder blades, and you whimpered softly. The stretch hurt more than it did with his fingers. He shushed your cries with saliva stained kisses along the corners of your mouth. A sweet haze swirled in your mind, muffling the knocking on the door in favour of the groans from the man sandwiching you to the couch.
“Fuck-” he buried his face in the crook of your shoulder. He was finally hilted within you. His hips stuttered and he struggled to unsheathe himself. He mumbled something into your skin, a hand gripping the back of your knees for support. He withdrew until there was only the tip left, then he slowly filled you up again. Over and over, he plunged deep and slow, drawing pretty moans from you. Soft plapping noises filled the room, a sound barely registered by you in your haze.
“Such a perfect little pussy,” the blonde murmured, his grip on your knees bruising. Strings of drool dribbled down your chin as you laid there limply for him to use. He weakly slapped your cheek with the tips of his fingers. “Look at you. Too drunk on my cock to think.”
Leon chuckled lowly, and you squealed when he slapped your clit. You clenched him harder, and he cursed as you throbbed around him. The veins running along his length pulsated angrily against your gummy confines, and he grabbed your chin to peer into your clouded eyes.
“You’re practically begging me to cum inside, sweetheart. You’d like that, yeah? Mhn… I know you would. Such a dirty slut. All mine.”
He dragged his tongue along the outline of your jaw, and you met his tongue with yours in an open mouthed kiss. His name was a broken song, rising in pitch as an overwhelming sensation escalated with each press of his pelvis against your clit. When you finally broke, you cried out in desperation and you came hard around him. He fucked you through your high, uncaring about the overstimulation racking your body as you convulsed underneath him. His pleasure would become yours, whether you liked it or not. When the thread in his abdomen finally snapped, he stuffed himself to the base and emptied his spent into you.
The warmth in your belly was comforting, lulling you into sleep when his voice tugged you awake. He stood beside the couch, phone in hand. A sleazy grin played on his swollen lips.
“Smile for the camera, sweetheart.”
You blearily raised a peace sign, the hem of your top between your teeth, bra hanging loosely. Uncaring of the cum and sweat all over your body, you managed a timid smile as the camera flashed. He snapped a photo and sunk into the seat beside you. A commemoration for today, and a little something for him (and you, if you’d like him to send it to you) to remember it.
You crawled over, nestling your head on his chest as your eyelids drooped close. Would your body suffice as a thank you for saving you that day? You hoped he’d ask for more. You nuzzled into the warmth of his chest.
Meanwhile, Leon inspected the pixelated photo. He was deeply pleased with his work, and he kissed the top of your head. You were slipping into a plane of unconsciousness, and he tucked stray hairs behind your ear.
“That’s my girl.”
. . .
“Use your tongue,” He whispered. The heavy hand on your head stroked your hair tenderly, and you gazed up at him through hooded eyes. He laid on his back, on the couch as you knelt between his spread legs.
The projector had long stopped rolling its film, and a single beam of white light illuminated the viewing room. Who knew how much time had passed. All that mattered was pleasing him, so that you could earn his smile, and if you were lucky, his attention.
He clenched his teeth as your canines grazed his pulsing veins. You licked his tip apologetically, earning a low chuckle from him. Your stomach fluttered at the sound, and you closed your eyes as you continued nursing him with your tongue.
“That’s it,” he hissed. He tightened his grip on his phone, and his screen reflected you in it. A red icon incessantly blinked in the upper corner of the screen. In the darkness, a smile snuck onto his face, “Show me what that mouth can do.”
(BONUS)
A month. That was all the rest days he had accumulated after slaving away as the government’s killing machine for the past year. It was non negotiable, so he was going to make the best out of it- and he planned to burn through cheap booze and rewatching classics.
So Leon found himself in a rental video store, a bag in his calloused grip clunking with cans of cold beer, condensation clinging to the insides of the cheap plastic bag. He wandered along the aisles as an old fan nailed to the ceiling rotated in semicircles. The blades whirred at snail's pace, practically useless as even the dust sitting on top of the shelves barely flinched. Sun rays filtered in from the space between the top of the shelves and the glass walls. White light from the rows of blinking LED lights above lit up the dinghy shop. The store was quiet and unmanned, and as he stood at the counter, eyes searching for the clerk, the bell hanging above the door chimed as it swung open.
A young woman, he raised a curious brow- why was she working in a place like this? You were dressed in skimpy pyjamas when you burst in. Your hair was barely tied up, face bare skinned and lips cracking. You licked them nervously when your eyes fell on him- and he stared expectantly at you.
“I’m so sorry!” You cried as you scrambled to the other side of the counter. “I had to leave the store unattended for a moment- Please don’t tell my boss.”
Fumbling, you tapped buttons onto the register. Something must have gone wrong, because you cursed under your breath. Then you pushed your hair out of your eyes to meet his.
“I just got here,” he lied. He had waited for a while, staring at the cracks on the ceiling and at the clock with frozen hands. He was about to walk out without the tapes, even. But your frantic expression proved to be an amusing display, and he found himself smiling politely. “Don’t sweat it.”
“Thank you so much.” You heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief. You scanned his selections when your brows perked up, “Titanic? Didn’t know we had this.”
“Aren’t you working here?” Leon teased, and your cheeks flushed. Cute. He leaned in subconsciously as you flustered.
“W-Well, it’s my second day. I still don’t know where most things go- But I know we have classics and plenty of other… stuff.”
“Stuff, huh?” He laughed, and it was an airy one that deepened your blush.
You cleared your throat and swatted the air beside you, “You know, adult films and all. The geezer that owns this store has quite the collection.” You gestured at the back with your hand.
“Come back and take a looksie when you’re free, mister. It’ll be of great help. Y’know, for our sales,” you added.
“Maybe,” he said as he took the goods from you. He offered a friendly smile, and you smiled back. Really cute, he figured. So he promised to return.
He kept his word and returned after a single day. How could he not when you bid him goodbye, all smiles and giddy with gratitude. Did this job mean that much to you? He decided he’d spend some of his time watching more films then, since what else could he possibly do besides bar hopping for skirts and getting blacked out drunk at home? Plus, it was ridiculously cheap to rent these films, an actual steal.
As he wandered in the back, his eyes fell on a strange box with a cursive font. His curiosity got the better of him and he picked it up and stared at the model in the front. A woman with the same hair colour as you, the sole worker in this drab store. A knowing smile crept onto Leon’s face.
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all content written by @cherubify ! do not repost, edit, plagiarise, or use my work for AI. requests are indefinitely open.
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brickmvster · 3 months
Text
new look [leon kennedy x gn!reader]
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(fanart in the middle from tanya.gavva on instagram)
synopsis: leon kennedy grows out his hair for the first time in a long time... and you cherish every moment of it.
word count: 1,190
tags: long haired re4r leon, established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff and cute domestic stuff, slice of life, short and sweet
author's note: ya'll know those long hair leon kennedy mods. yeah. yeah those. thank the modders for inspiring me to write this. 😭😭😭 (seriously he is so beautiful with long hair i am Crying)
as per usual, this was posted at a time when i should be sleeping lol. this has been proofread but some grammatical errors may have still slipped by me. apologies in advance, any and all mistakes are mine!
please enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated.
(this has been crossposted on ao3)
Sometimes, Leon goes quite some time without hearing from the government. On the rare occasion he gets extended breaks, he gets a little lazy when it comes to keeping his hair short. Short hair stays out of Leon's face, and prevents any evil residents from grabbing it when he's on missions, but when he doesn't have any hostile enemies to fight and he spends most of his time with you, he likes to let it grow just a little bit – after all, it's nice to save some money on haircuts and it gets some pretty entertaining reactions out of you.
When you first noticed Leon's longer hair, you didn't comment on it; you assumed that he'd cut it fairly quickly. But several days had passed, and his hair only grew longer, much to your surprise (and delight). You brought it up to him one night while he was helping you cook dinner, his shaggy blonde hair falling into his eyes.
"Are you growing out your hair?" You had asked him. Leon looked away, almost in a shy manner that you found absolutely adorable.
"Yeah… I know it's unusual of me to keep it this long but it's been a while since my last mission and I haven't really felt like going to the barbershop, so…" he trailed off, running his fingers through the locks in a way that made your heart skip a beat.
There was a bit of silence before Leon spoke again. "Do you like it?" He asked you, to which you could only chuckle in response, walking over to him and running your own fingers through the strands before letting your arms rest on his shoulders, playing with the hairs on his nape.
"Leon Kennedy. Is that even a question?" You replied incredulously. Leon just smiled, chuckling softly as he placed his large hands on your waist. The two of you leaned in and shared a sweet kiss, momentarily forgetting about dinner altogether.
Leon eventually pulled away first, but his face remained close enough to yours that you could still feel his breath on your lips. Your fingers were still playing with his hair tenderly as your eyes admired the gorgeous sight directly in front of you.
Leon had always been handsome – that was just a known fact. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and Leon Kennedy is attractive as all hell. But with the way his long hair was framing his face, you were falling in love all over again.
"Somehow you've gotten even more beautiful. I didn't even think that was possible." You teased, tucking some hair behind his ear.
"You're really loving this, aren't you?" Leon playfully asked, grinning warmly at you.
"To say that I'm loving this is a massive understatement – I am obsessed." you said with a smirk, saying the words against Leon's lips before pressing yours against his once more, this kiss a bit more passionate than the first one and making you feel light-headed in the best way possible, butterflies viciously attacking your stomach as Leon still somehow managed to sweep you off your feet years into the relationship.
Leon tried to pull away again after several minutes of lazily making out in the middle of the kitchen, but every time he tried you would chase his lips, never keeping your mouths separated for longer than a second.
"Baby," Leon whispered against your lips, and eventually you leaned back, but not without great reluctance.
Leon just kissed your cheek. "We should probably get back to preparing dinner, yeah?" He asked. With a pout, you nodded.
"Right." You said, remembering the poor vegetables that still needed cutting.
Before you turned your attention back on cutting vegetables though, you stepped back and took in Leon's now messy hair after your fingers had run through the strands a million times, giggling to yourself quietly. It looked like a cute little bird's nest.
"God, I am going to be all over you." You muttered under your breath. But your boyfriend's trained government agent ears picked up on your words.
"Aren't you always all over me already?" He replied, teasingly.
You added the chopped vegetables into a boiling pot as you responded. "Well, yes. But even more now. Watch out." You threw a wink his way, and Leon just rolled his eyes, but couldn't fight the fond smile from taking over his lips.
Eventually, the two of you got back into the tranquility of cooking, moving around each other almost as if dancing in harmony, a comfortable quietness filling the kitchen. At some point, though, when the food was simmering and you began cleaning up the kitchen, Leon had left for a moment. You didn't think anything of it, assuming he just needed to be off of his feet for a bit.
But then he came back, his silky blonde hair pulled into a small ponytail, some of the more disobedient strands framing his face in the most endearing way. You were wiping the counter when you suddenly froze, your face feeling as warm as the pot of stew on the stove as you shamelessly ogled at your boyfriend's good looks.
Leon sensed your staring, quickly meeting your gaze. "Something on your mind?" He asked playfully.
You wanted to throw your wash cloth at his ridiculously charming face. "Leon. You look so adorable right now. I'm going to explode."
Leon chuckled. "Please, don't. The counter will get dirty again."
You walked over to him, hitting him gently with the washcloth still in your hand before surprising him with a chaste kiss against his lips.
Eventually, dinner was served, and after the two of you ate, it was about time for bed. You both did your usual nightly routines before jumping into your shared bed, holding each other close. Leon was usually the big spoon, as per your request on most nights, but you weren't passing up the opportunity to hold his head close to your chest and to run your fingers through his soft strands.
Leon hummed contentedly, and it was so quiet you almost didn't catch it; but you did, and the sound instantly brought a smile to your face.
"That feels nice, sweetheart." He said lazily, as he was very obviously trying to fight sleep.
This man will be the death of me, you thought.
"It does?" You asked. Leon nodded.
"Mhmm." Was all he replied with, melting into your touch once more.
Some silence passed, the two of you on the very edge of being pulled into the embrace of a deep slumber, but not for long as you expressed one more thought that had entered your mind.
"You know, with your hair this length, I got some style ideas…"
"Oh yeah?" Leon replied groggily.
"Yeah. I have to see you in pigtails."
Leon's half open eyes were now fully open at your comment. A sharp laugh escaped you immediately.
"Leon, please. Do it for me?"
He shook his head, laughing along with you. But the next morning, he let you put his hair into two cute pigtails with a couple of your hairties. And of course, you took photos.
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qvrcll · 11 months
Note
Hello :) I saw you are tking requests and I have something on my mind for a quite some time...If you maybe could write Leon Kennedy ID x younger (like in her early 20s) girlfriend reader where they are making love and chris walk on them. But if you dont want to write it you dont need to so feel no pressure. have a nice day :)
rosemary
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summary: whilst you and leon share skin to skin contact in the fervent heat of your bedroom, a gentle intrusion seems to knocks things out of prospect. still, does it have to be so complicated?
warnings: female reader, ID ! leon, nsfw under the cut, getting walked in on EL OH EL, fluff if you squint i swear
a/n: hi lovely thank u for the request!! i had a great time writing this and i hope you enjoy :-)
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Leon was 180 centimetres of hard, breathing flesh — that, put up against you in such a compromising position as this, made things all too complicated. Brooding, in a sense that make things sweat, heave with pounding release.
Of course, he never played the fair game, however many times he swore he would.
He’s got you folded in half already, quivering cunt spurting a heat so delicious, it sinks him in like a vice when he gives into it. His hands, dangerous aviaries that hold every part of you in place, scavenge across your body like he has never seen you like this before. Never had you quite this deep, this desperate and thrashing before.
But he has, and he knows it all too fucking well.
“Like it when I do that, hm?” he spits out, throat abused by the abundant swell of groans and other string of pathetic noises that leave him. Still, he’s zeroed in on you only — the way you croon against him like a helpless little thing, bundled up beneath him in a mess of nerves, an assortment of pleas, pitching high from “r-right there!” and “m-mhm… just—like that…”
He’s learnt it all — your noises, twitches. The sensitive grip of skin underneath your thigh that leaves you breathless and moaning. Two, three, four slick fingers intruding your cunt, leaving you sore and satisfied the next day. He’s made love to you, and this only seems it, that familiar beckoning gush of your walls pressing against his cock like it had so many other times before.
And it’s barely coordinated, when your hand sinks lower, between the fervent slaps of either of your bodies in a distorted rhythm, seeking to pay attention to the awful throb of your clit and you mewl when his own hands quickly supersede yours in quick fashion. They’re larger, cover more space and bear more weight beneath the flesh, when he grants you some mercy by slathering any wetness against your clit and doing the work for you.
Aw, how sweet of you, Kennedy.
Is what you would have uttered. Smirked with a superlative sense of ungratefulness, if he wasn’t aiming to drill another hole into you.
“Fuck—“ he curses above you, and it all falls out of rhythm. A delicious combination of all your senses. A sign of your impending release.
You remember the gruelling trip back in his car.
You remember the awful coldness of the elevator as he pressed you against the familiar glint of it, mouth all full of the taste you and a raging sense of impatience.
You remember tripping into his room, already bare. Already responding to his cut-throat presses and licks in seconds.
“You close, sweetheart?” He calls you. But for you, it’s a reminder, that you are still here, underneath him. Writhing, thrashing, but with him nonetheless. Heated and throbbing, but fingers interlocked with his in ceremonious fashion. And the thought makes you smile, sloppy and twitching, through the lewdness of the thick air.
And you can do nothing except claw at him, use him as a living, breathing grounding machine. Can do nothing but hold him so desperately as you break, count the wrinkles against his forehead as he pushes into you again. Await the swift hit of release as you choke out, “Y-Yeah… I—I’m… close… mnng—“
“Leon? You in here?”
The additional voice is distant, airy almost. You almost wonder if you’d imagined it, sorted it out of nothing from your deeply calibrated mess of a brain.
The sex must’ve driven me mad, you think. Almost laugh, but don’t, as light hits your eyes.
And that familiar coil in your tummy dampens, aches, is reduced to ashes as Leon scrambles for the blanket with a large scoff, wraps you gently with it and shields your body against his — the heat of your sweat and the lathering material from the blanket does more to irritate you, but it would do, when Chris himself was standing calcified and struck dumb with confusion in the arch of your doorway.
So much for locking the door.
“Chris, get out!” Leon yells, sifts for his shirt. Cards the floor for his pants and undergarments. He’s almost fully dressed as Chris grumbles out an apology, staggering out of the room with a limp you didn’t recognise he had ever worn before.
And you’re moth-eaten, hot, underneath the covers. Some part of you is mortified, but the larger part is aching for relief. Your legs are tense with the course of your muscles and sweat coats you in a messy sheen. But the ache between your legs is stagnant, mulling in sick waters like a beaten soldier.
“Sweetheart?”
It takes you a few counted minutes to realise your current predicament — Chris had seen the two of you in bed by pure accident, and with the last shred of consciousness you possess, you burst with colour. Still, Leon’s voice is molten. Electric. It sends sparks flying and frothing at your skin, as his arm skirts over yours in that familiar fashion — a silent kiss inked into your skin by touch alone, a low voice muttering ‘It’s alright. It’s okay.’
And he smiles, wide and large, smile lines soothing the ache and bringing you to be. You’re almost relieved, almost rid of that throe in you, sex nearly forgotten until he speaks again,
“Don’t touch yourself until I’m back. You can do that, can’t you? Hm?”
And as he leaves, smirking, you swiftly melt into the suffocating creases of your shared bed, charged up all over again.
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© 2023 qvrcll ! do not repost any of my works on any platform.
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comatosebunny09 · 11 months
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kindle [ pt. 2 ] | leon k.
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genre(s): romance, friends to lovers, modern au
warning(s): language, pining, terms of endearment (doll, sweetheart)
part 2 to this. hope you enjoy! thank you so much for reading! ❤️
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It’s a date. Or at least, you assume it is. 
Given the way Leon had sauntered up to your desk, all smirking and sheepish, it was only fair to surmise he had asked you out on one. 
Took him long enough.
He came to you through the dull murmur of the office. When the sun crept towards the horizon, bathing your cubicle in an ethereal orange. You were elbow deep in SIR reports, gnawing on the cap of your pen. Irritation rested between your brows. If you glared any harder, the information sprawled before you would surely combust.
Paperwork was the bane of your existence. Dodging chainsaws, claws, and teeth seemed more appealing. You’d gladly take the cool steel of a beretta biting into your palm over that of a ballpoint. 
Thick, work-worn fingers splayed on your desk, drawing your attention northward. You couldn’t help the slight quirk of your lips. Couldn’t parry that pleasant, fluttery feeling in your gut at the sight of him—your partner, that is. 
Leon’s hair was ruffled with errant strands sticking this way and that. Irises glimmered like sea glass, dancing over your features with boyish fascination. His smile was dimpled, and crow’s feet hung to the corners of his eyes. Dark stubble dappled his chin. His tie was loosened around his neck, while his dress shirt lay slightly untucked and wrinkled. It seemed the day had been as kind to him as it was to you.   
You found yourself resting your cheek in your palm as warmth flooded your innards. Fell under his spell, submerged beneath its shadowy depths, unable to resurface. Not that you wanted to. He held your heart in a vice. You cautioned a “Sup?” wincing at how your voice crackled. How you sounded prepubescent, and you cleared your throat to ward off your nerves.
Leon’s replying chuckle was like velveteen. You felt it in your stomach. Felt it play up your spine like a xylophone. You always found his voice endearing, the low gravel of it sticky and dulcet to your ears. 
As if magnetically drawn to them, you watched his lips, soft and rose-petal red, form around words. Your own tingled as you recalled kissing that very mouth a few nights ago. Committed their texture to memory, quelling the urge to touch your lips. Leon’s Adam’s apple bobbed and the tendons in his neck flexed. You instinctively swallowed, readjusting yourself in your chair.
“Not much,” Leon said, shifting his weight onto one foot. Still propped up on your desk in an easy slouch, swaddling you in the aroma of gun oil and teakwood. Of course, his sleeves were cuffed, baring his sinewy forearms. How badly you wanted to touch them. Drag your fingertips down the forked veins beneath, conjuring the prettiest sounds from his throat. “Just checkin’ on my favorite partner.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I’m your only partner, dickhead.”
“I dunno,” he taunted, standing tall with folded arms. From this angle, it was easy to make out the power of his body. His clothes did little to disguise it. Your throat grew dry, and your voice caught in the bowels of your chest. “Marie over in HR is gunnin’ for your spot.” 
It always surprised you how quickly you could move. How swiftly you could retrieve your stapler and chuck it at him. Leon snorted as he ducked, the damned thing striking a far-off window. He threw his hands up in mock surrender, a youthful crinkle to his eye. 
“Relax, doll. I’m just messin’.” 
You countered with a hmph, clearly over his shit.  
Leon replaced his palms on your desk once the dust settled. Broke the heavy silence by asking, “How’s the admin stuff comin’?” Feigning interest in the documents littering your cubicle, he retrieved a packet, skimming through it with disinterest. Like he wasn’t using you to procrastinate, a pile of pristine, white paper leering at you through his office window. 
With a weighted sigh, you answered, “It’s coming.” A quiet snicker garnered another eye-roll. “Oh, grow the hell up, Kennedy.” 
“Never. You like me like this.”
You cut your eyes at him mid-scribble. Sat your pen down with a definitive clack. These childish games you played made you feel giddy. Like two grade-schoolers in the sandbox, clearly taken by each other. Alright. You’d bite. 
“Says who?” 
It was as if you initiated a challenge. As if you’d stuck out your tongue and said make me. Leon took the bait, inching towards you, huffing out a chuckle. He crept over your desk with the finesse of a jaguar quietly stalking through the bush. Poured himself into your personal bubble, the heat of his body rolling off him in waves, staining your neck, a shiver sifting through your bones. His breath was hot against the shell of your ear. Dizzying as he deliberately exhaled against your skin.
His timbre was dark with mischief as he finally crooned, “Says that dumb little look on your face, sweetheart.”
You’d never punched him harder. 
Leon drew back, gulping down air between a peal of laughter. It became customary for him to torment you like that. To play on the attraction swimming between you, dismantling your resolve and leaking through the fissures of your heart. When the moment became too serious, he often sprinkled in a quip or two to keep you at arm’s length. It was frustrating. How he could act so cool despite the noticeable change in your relationship. 
“What do you even want, Kennedy? I’ve got shit to do,” you sighed, exasperation wading in your tone. Your forehead collided against the cherrywood with a soft thunk. A migraine bloomed on the horizon. Leon’s teasing only served to exacerbate it.
His tone was muffled. Hesitant, rivaled by the idle chatter of your coworkers. “Well, if you must know, I … wanted to see if you had dinner plans?” 
Magma filled your belly. Your eyes shot to him, a sheet of paper comically glued to your forehead. You were acutely aware of yourself, sitting up straighter, smoothing out the wrinkles of your attire, fretting over your hair. “Dinner? Uh, m-me? N-no. Well—”
“Cool. Now you do have plans. Seven sound good?” 
Your expression was awestruck. Well, now, this was certainly a new development. You blinked away your confusion, nodding dumbly. Caught a glimpse of a smirk canting Leon’s lips before he stepped out. Before he tapped your desk with finality, maneuvering out of your office space. 
“Wait! Wait, is … is this a date?” you called to his retreating back.
“Take it however you want,” Leon supplied, a hand raised in farewell. 
You sank into your chair once he disappeared within the maze of cubicle walls. Left at the mercy of your thundering heart and flaring nerves. The goofiest of grins lay claim to your countenance. You felt reinvigorated, taking up your pen. Scrawled away like an enamored fool, scanning through the catalog of your mind for what you would wear.             
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<< part 1
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delphi-shield · 5 months
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OLD FOLKS HOME ↪ age gap hcs
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the people you love & the shit they do that reminds you of the dreaded Gap (tm). characters included: leon kennedy, chris redfield, jill valentine, claire redfield, rebecca chambers no warnings to speak of. remember kids, if you're gonna date people in their 30s and 40s, you're gonna have different cultural contexts and, most likely, different senses of humor.
Leon is eight levels of irony deep. He started doing Old Guy Shit just to mess with you, and now it's all come full circle. 
It turns out he actually likes watching the weather channel. He’s monitoring storms that are miles and miles away from you, pointing out the feeder bands like it’s some kind of sporting event. 
He's genuinely invested in Ice Road Truckers. He asks you to TiVo it for him when he's gone. You do not have TiVo. In fact, you're pretty sure no one still has TiVo. 
Or you were, until Leon once again committed to the bit and got TiVo.
Really, genuinely annoying about old movies, actors, and directors.
”What do you mean you don’t know who Robert Redford is? The Candidate? Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid? C’mon. He was even in an episode of The Twilight Zone. You’ll know him when you see him.”
At least you get movie dates out of it.
Movie dates that he will pepper with trivia about the film, by the way. You don't need the commentary track. He is the commentary.
I'm so, so sorry about this. 🤪 is his favorite emoji. I know. I'm sorry.
Chris cannot fucking hear. To be honest, I think most of them have some degree of hearing loss - but Chris in particular seems to have very subjective hearing loss.
Yes, you were just having a full-fledged conversation. No, he didn’t hear you ask him to take out the trash. He didn’t forget, he just didn’t hear you. Sorry, you were standing on his right - come on, you know that’s his bad side.
Explains basic technology to you because he’s not sure if you know what it is. Then, in the same breath, crams in so many military acronyms he may as well be reciting the alphabet. Does not explain the acronyms.
Like, yeah, Chris. I know what a landline is. Dial-up internet, too. Now, what the fuck is an ORE?
Have you ever gotten ‘ok’ in response to a nude? You’re about to. Completely demoralizing, by the way.
He didn't know you wanted him to compose a poem dedicated to your beauty, okay? He tries to get better, but winds up sending shit like 'wow 👍'
Does the dad thing where he insists he's not interested in watching what's on TV and then stands with his hands on his hips in the middle of the living room, enthralled by the show.
Jill does not understand your music. She will not make an attempt to understand your music. If you see her tapping her foot to the beat, no you do not. She is not interested in expanding her musical horizons.
She only bought you tickets to that concert because she knew you would love it. She only went with you because you’re cute when you’re so into this stuff. She only bought that t-shirt because it would be a good souvenir, and eventually, a good grease rag.
Generalized distrust of social media. Do not show her a tiktok. She will ignore the video and lecture you about data safety. Jill, please. Just watch the fucking cat video.
And then she turns around and opts in to literally everything on the McDonald's app.
If there’s a rewards program, she’s in. Already sold. Didn’t even read the fine print. All that shit she was telling you about how you need to be more careful is right out the window for some free fries.
Anything for the thrill of a good deal. If she had more time on her hands, she would be couponing.
Buys in bulk. No, it doesn't matter if the two of you could not physically eat that much rice. It's cheaper to buy it like this. It's fine. It's good for you.
Gotta stock up on non-perishables, too. You gotta be prepared in case something happens. "Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it."
Claire cannot stop shopping from QVC. She's in the kitchen with David. It Takes Two with Mary and Sandra? Wrong. It actually takes three. Mary, Sandra, and Claire.
Infomercials have got her by the throat. You have so many gadgets and gizmos around your home that are just collecting dust.
Gets wine drunk and goes online shopping. Legitimately does not remember what she’s bought.
Absolutely will not let you open the packages. (“Some of this stuff could be for you, you know.” “Claire, last time it was a 10,000 count package of googly eyes.” “And I used all 10,000. You still haven’t found them all.”)
Uses every piece of technology until it’s about to fall apart. Absolutely not interested in having the latest and greatest. She’s one of those people who insists that as long as her phone can make calls and send texts, she doesn’t need a new one.
Speaking of texts. Somehow, she got it into her head that a read receipt is equivalent to a reply. She doesn't get what the problem is. You know she saw your text. Why does she have to reply?
Genuinely doesn't mean anything malicious by it - but also, if you did that to her, you would never hear the end of it.
Rebecca legitimately has facebook humor. They all have some degree of facebook humor, but she's got it the worst. 
Will blow up your notifications tagging you in shit that is just straight up not funny. I’m talking full on tagging you with “😂😂😂”
Unironically sent you a minion meme once.
It's not that she's disconnected. She teaches undergrads. She knows what’s in, even if it’s only from the periphery. It’s just that she doesn’t care. She has no interest in keeping up with trends just for the sake of it. She’s so used to being the youngest person in the room and having to keep up expectations that she just absolutely does not care anymore. She's glad she's not one of the kids anymore.
If it made her laugh it made her laugh, her enjoyment isn’t shackled by feelings of shame!!
If you have a group chat on any platform with your friends please invite her. She's just happy to be included. She'll make a discord if she has to, and she'll brag about it to her students.
Yeah, she says pupper and doggo. She does. Look at her.
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lilmoonbunny · 6 months
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Co-Workers to Lovers; Albert Wesker
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Warnings: Cheating boyfriend (reader's bf, not Wesker), alcohol consumption, implied nsfw.
Working alongside Albert Wesker was… interesting.
He was cold, rude, blunt, and so on with all his workers, except for you.
He wasn’t a lot nicer, but there wasn’t the same amount of judgement, hatred, and annoyance in his tone when he spoke to you.
If it wasn’t for the fact that he would kill them, your co-workers would joke that he has a sweet spot for you.
It wasn’t like you didn’t have one for him also. Most of your co-workers hated you for the special treatment you got from Wesker, so he was basically all you had at Umbrella.
Your boyfriend wasn’t fond of your work-relationship with Albert, something about how he “didn’t trust the creep” and how “he’s trying to steal you from me”.
You never believed any of that, but then again, you never believed that your boyfriend would cheat on you either.
Well, until the night you came home from work earlier than usual to the sound of moans from your bedroom.
At first, you thought maybe he was masturbating. After all, it had been a while since you two had last had sex. Work Albert had been keeping you busy.
The moment you heard the female moans, you knew what was happening, but you couldn’t stop yourself from entering the room.
“Really?” You asked him, watching his face morph from pleasure, to shock, to anger.
“You’re home early!”
“Clearly.”
Without another word, you left the room as your boyfriend of three years rushed to put his pants on and chase after you, but before he could reach you, you had already left, beginning to walk in the pouring rain.
You didn’t know what to do or where to go, so you ended up back at work. They had beds for those doing 24-hour shifts, so you could just take one of those.
“I thought you finished for today. Why are you here, and why are you wet? You’re dripping on the floor.” Whilst his words would seem annoyed, there was an underlying tone of concern in Albert’s tone.
“My boyfriend cheated on me; I walked here in the rain. Sorry, Sir.” You whispered, avoiding eye contact.
Had you been paying attention, you would have noticed the way his jaw clenched in anger, but all you heard was an annoyed sigh followed by you being told to follow him.
He took you to his office, bluntly telling you to sit before leaving the room.
You waited, eyes still staring at the floor rather than the room around you.
You were embarrassed more than anything. First your boyfriend cheats on you for God only knows how long, and now you’re crying to your boss.
“It’s not your fault.” Wesker’s deep voice sounds from behind you, the weight of a towel being placed on your shoulder pulls you from your self-deprecating thoughts.
You shrug and he sighs again, taking a seat in his chair.
“Look at me.” You do.
It isn’t easy for him, not at all, but he does do his best to put on a somewhat kinder face and try to comfort you.
“He’s a moron. Don’t worry about that idiot. You deserve better.” He says. “You deserve me” sounds his internal voice, but he ignores it.
With a quiet sigh, you nod and agree. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Albert is quite fine, Dear.” The name causes you to blush and you silently pray that he doesn’t notice or will just pass it off as you being cold, but he isn’t stupid.
“Thank you, Albert.”
Wesker can’t deny the way his body reacts when his name rolls from your tongue, but he can sure as hell ignore it. He doesn’t need feelings. He isn’t capable of them, he tells himself.
“You can stay in my office for the time being. I finish in an hour or two, I’ll drive you back to my place.” It wasn’t an invitation, it was a demand, but one that you didn’t want to turn down.
“Thank you.” You repeat, and he simply nods, passing you some dry clothes, and leaving to return to work.
Once he finished work, Albert gathered his things and lead you to his car.
Being the gentleman he is, although it was only for you, he held the door open for you, enjoying the way you blushed and muttered a thank you.
The drive was quiet. It was late, dark, and you were both deep in your thoughts.
He was wondering if he had made a mistake inviting you to stay at his home until you were back on your feet. He didn’t know how long he could go without kissing or touching you, but it also didn’t sit right with him making you stay at Umbrella offices where it wasn’t safe, or with your cheating boyfriend.
However, all you could think about was how good he looked driving, his hands tightened around the wheel and the gearstick. There was something oddly attractive about it.
Despite him being deep in his own thoughts, he didn’t fail to notice and couldn’t help the smirk on his lips which made you blush once again.
“We’re here,” he said, quickly moving to open your door for you and lead you into his mansion house, enjoying the shock on your face.
“Thank you, Albert,” you smiled at him as soon as you two were sat with drinks in your hands. “It means a lot to me. More than you can imagine.”
“It’s no problem, Dear.”
Over the weeks that you had stayed at his place, it was safe to say that you and Albert had grown closer, the same as your feelings had grown more for one another.
Albert was working more to keep himself busy, as were you, but the drives home were becoming more and more painful each time.
It was obvious to him that you had feelings for him, but he was him. Albert Wesker isn’t exactly the king of relationships, or even friendships; he had betrayed everyone in his life, after all.
He couldn’t resist, however, placing his large hand on your thigh as he drove, enjoying the way you tensed up beneath his touch and a blush ran to your cheeks, but you remained silent.
Having enjoyed your reaction, this was something he began doing every journey. He loved seeing you flustered, even more so when you stuttered when he spoke to you during the drive.
“No need to stutter, Dear. It’s only us.” He would say with a smirk.
You didn’t know how much longer you could last without touching him either, but you were afraid of rejection. Sure, he touched you, but what if he didn’t want you to touch him.
He could sense your hesitation and didn’t expect you to ever do anything, at least, until you laid your hand on top of his that rested on your thigh, your head lying on the glass of the window. It was clear you were tired, and perhaps that was why you were doing it.
You fell asleep that drive, the sound of rain and feeling of Albert’s hand touching your own lulling you into a deep sleep, one that he didn’t want to wake you from., so he didn’t. Instead, he carefully lifted you and carried you to the room you had been staying in. Your room.
Your relationship grew closer from there. You trusted him and, scarily enough for him, he trusted you also.
You went out one night with your friends, Wesker telling you to call him when you were ready to come home, and he would pick you up; he didn’t trust anyone but himself to get you home safely.
You had talked about him all night, leaving your friends wondering what was happening between you both. That was when you finally admitted it to yourself: you loved him.
Whilst the thought had always been there, completely admitting it to yourself was terrifying, but it had to be done.
However, the only way you felt you could properly think on this was by drinking more.
When it reached 3am, you texted him telling him you’ll get a cab since he was likely asleep.
Don’t be stupid, I’ll come get you. I can’t sleep. Where are you? Came his immediate reply. He would never admit it, but he stayed up worrying about you.
He was there moments later, helping you into the car so you didn’t fall with a sigh.
“Are you mad at me?” You asked upon realising that he wasn’t touching you for the first time in weeks.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Then why aren’t you touching me?”
“You’re drunk. I’m not touching you whilst you’re drunk, Y/N.”
A blush ran up your cheeks at the realisation and your drunk self couldn’t stop the words leaving your lips.
“But what if I want you to? What if I want you to do more than hold my thigh?” You’d regret that in the morning, but you were too drunk to care.
Albert’s hand tightened on the wheel at your words, doing his best to calm his breathing before responding.
“You’re still drunk. I’m not taking advantage of you whilst you’re under the influence. If you still want it tomorrow, then I will.” Were the final words for the night before you fell asleep and he, yet again, carried you inside, the smallest smile on his lips.
The following morning you were terrified of facing him, remembering what you had said, so you stayed inside your room until noon when a knock came on your door.
“I know you’re awake, Y/N. We need to talk.” Came his stern voice that had both your heart and thoughts racing, assuming the worst.
“Okay.” Came your meek response as you opened the door, allowing him into the room.
It was silent for a few moments, before you offered him a seat beside you.
“Did you mean what you said last night?” He asked, staring at you. “Be honest, I won’t be offended if you say no.”
His words confused you, but as you stared at him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his pupils dilated whilst he stared back, lips slightly parted. You weren’t dumb, you knew what that meant. He wanted you the same way you wanted him.
Rather than responding, you closed the gap between both of you, his hands instantly moving to push the straps of your dress that you had failed to change out of down your shoulders.
Once you pulled away, breathless and half undressed, he chuckled quietly.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He teased, but you ignored it and pressed your lips to his again in desperation.
Maybe it had always been him since you met him. Maybe your cheating ex-boyfriend was just what made you realise that.
One-shot (Cheating Heart) coming soon!
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niki-phoria · 8 months
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pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: angst word count: 729
includes: implied re4 leon, leon cries, so much angst
a/n: inspired by this prompt list by @urfriendlywriter and this post by @rishiguro !! i'm debating making a part 02 of this where reader survives if anyone's interested
warnings: lots of blood, mentions of death
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“no, no, no,” leon whispers. he all but falls to his knees beside you, desperately pressing his hands against your torso. “come on, stay with me.” 
“leon?” your voice is raspy and strained as you force the words to leave your lips. squinting up at him, you can just barely make out his blurry figure hovering just over you. “lee-” you choke. 
“shh, don’t try to talk,” he whispers. “it’s okay. i’m here. just… keep your eyes open for me, okay?”
blood seeps through the thick fabric of leon’s gloves, staining his fingers a deep red. he moves without thinking; his heart beating violently in his chest reminds him of his own mortality as he rips his shirt and harness off.
leon’s hands tremble as he balls up the fabric of his t-shirt before pressing it against your wound. a low groan of pain escapes you at the contact. your hand instinctively reaches up to wrap around his wrist, though you don’t make any real efforts to pull away from him. 
“i’m sorry,” he whispers. his eyebrows furrow as he racks his brain in an attempt to remember his first aid training. tears blur his vision before he blinks them away to focus on the task at hand. “i know it hurts. just look at me. just keep looking at me.”
your eyes flutter shut for a second before you force them back open. the world around you spins. you can feel your own heart beating violently against your chest walls - desperate to keep you alive. “leon,” you choke out once again. blood pools in your mouth with each strained movement you make. your chest shakes as you cough uncontrollably. 
“don’t speak,” he whispers. his eyes flicker from your chest to your face. “it’s okay. don’t try to talk.”
you squint up at him. a shaky breath leaves your lips before you do your best to softly smile at leon. “i- i love you.”
the words sound more like a choked groan when they leave your lips, but you hope the message comes across nonetheless. you shudder as another, shallower breath escapes you. black spots begin to appear in your vision. 
leon presses down on your chest even harder. a hiss of pain escapes your clenched teeth. “stay with me,” he whispers. “y/n, please stay with me.”
your breath hitches in your throat. the black spots spread until they all but overtake your entire field of vision. before you know it, the world slowly begins to fade away. 
“y/n, come on,” leon mumbles. bloody hands reach up to cradle your face. his name leaves your lips like a prayer. like if he hopes enough he’ll be able to save you. 
tears roll down his cheeks in waves before he realizes. it feels like it’s been years since he’s cried. at least not like this. his throat burns as choked sobs escape his lips. the world seemingly falls apart around him. 
“please don’t leave me,” leon whimpers. his voice cracks as much as his heart does. each beat of his heart is more painful than the last. “please… i need you. i need you here with me.” 
you don’t move. your hands don’t shake from fear. your eyes aren’t squeezed shut in pain. leon sobs. you look so peaceful. death is peaceful, he supposes. in the golden haze of light and heaven or the dark nothingness of the empty there’s nothing else than can hurt you. no more monsters to jump out from behind corners and litter your body with even more scars. no more sleepless nights spent desperately trying to fight off any new nightmares. no more worry. no more agony.
guilt racks through leon’s body. you look so peaceful, but a selfish part of him wants you back. wants to keep you alive despite the suffering of life. wants to feel your heart beating when he falls asleep on your chest or your fingers tangled in his hair after a tough day or the warmth of your fingers as they gently massage the tension from out of his back and shoulder blades.
leon’s entire body shakes in anguish. leaning down, he presses his head against your chest, desperate to feel your heartbeat. a breath. anything.
“please…” he repeats. kneeling down on the cold concrete ground, crading your limp body in his arms, leon’s prayers go unanswered.
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ovaryacted · 8 months
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Rookie Mistakes
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Pairing: RE2!Leon x Sergeant fem!Reader
Summary: When Leon seems distracted and makes a mistake during a call, you ensure your rookie gets his head together as his sergeant.
Content/Warnings: 18+/MDNI. NSFW. Porn with plot. Dom/sub elements. Femdom/msub. Praise kink. Slight degradation. Needy/subby Leon. Oral sex. Fingering. Handjob. Office Sex. Slight age gap (reader is older at around 25, Leon is 21).
WC: 4.7k
Notes: Finally this is out. I know I know, I'm a liar! But, I had fun with this one, so I hope you like it. Shoutout to the babe @cinnarette for beta reading this and giving me her approval lolz. Anyways, reblogs & comments are always appreciated!
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Leon had always been one to find the good in a shitty situation. Someone with a warm heart that matched the moral compass he developed despite the constant bullshit he experienced daily.
From his hectic childhood to his experiences in the police academy, he had to overcome many trials and tribulations on his own with nobody in his corner. All of those struggles to get the pure sense of relief once he felt his diploma in his hand made all the stress worth it.
When he first arrived at the R.P.D., he didn’t know what to expect. The anxiety of starting fresh in a new city with a new career clouded his mind with a paranoia he seemed to carry in his youth. Walking into the police department he’d call his new home, Leon was fairly surprised to be greeted with a welcome party.
Balloons and confetti filled the common room as he moved around the crowd, bombarded with introductions and greetings as he tried to memorize the names that were thrown his way. Still, the small games and blue cake he indulged in brought a smile to his face, topped off with the polka-dotted party hat he was forced to wear and the words Welcome Leon hung up on the ceiling for him to see.
What Leon didn’t expect was to be assigned to your personal detail the next day. A police sergeant on the force, a bit older, no more than 25 he first assumed, more refined and seasoned with one hell of a glare. First impressions? He was terrified, nervous as hell to fuck anything up seeing how you ran a tight ship, taking your job too seriously for comfort. Of course, you had to. You were working in a male-dominated field, forcing yourself into a mold so you could be taken seriously by those around you.
He took his hand out when being introduced to you, unstable grip and a nervous smile to match as he looked directly into your intimidating gaze. You shook his hand firmly, the strength of your grasp parallel with the small grin you offered him almost made a shiver roll down his spine.
“So you’re the new rookie huh? Well, it’s nice to see a fresh face in here. We have some serious work to do. Let’s get started.”
-
You were particular about how you wanted things done, very precise in your words and your delivery. A harsh leader, one who easily reprimanded the other rookie officers but was particularly picky with Leon. In a way, he started to feel like you were targeting him, pressuring him so he would crack and leave the force. He knew he couldn’t leave, that this was the career path he chose, and he was too anxious to say anything so he’d let it slide.
You didn’t let up on his training either, always making sure your rookie was on top of what was expected of him. The slight fear Leon had when first meeting you quickly turned into admiration. His stress-induced feelings morphed into respect, now wanting to learn everything you had to show him.
That was when it started. Leon now tried any little thing to get in your good graces, to see even the slightest sign of a smile or to hear you laugh. He started coming to work earlier to help with the case filings you had piled on your desk, organizing them the way you taught him whenever you assigned him grunt work. He wanted you to take a breather and start your day with a clear head, maybe even enjoy your coffee for a bit longer.
When you saw how tidy your work environment was, you went up to Leon who you saw was typing away at his desk diligently. His head lifted up to look at you, blue eyes glancing over your face to read your expression.
“Morning. By any chance, did you fix all the files on my desk?”, you asked curiously, making the blonde rub the back of his neck shyly.
“Yeah, I did. Wanted to help you out a bit and give you an early start to the day” he responded, silently hoping you wouldn’t be upset at him for entering your workspace. Instead, he was met with your look of genuine surprise, followed by a twinkle of gratitude.
“Thank you for that, I appreciate it. Keep up the good work Leon”, you praised him, offering a small smile, one that he made sure to burn into his memory.
“Yes ma’am”, his face was practically beaming at your words as he watched you walk back towards your office, trying to hide the sudden warmth flooding his cheeks.
Your words kept repeating in his head nonstop throughout the entire day. Not only did you acknowledge him in a positive light, you also addressed him by name, which was rare. He was more present at work, his posture straighter, and more eager to help. From that point on, he made it his mission to make sure his sergeant was stress-free, doing anything to see you smile at him again.
Working with Leon, you quickly learned that he was perceptive. A smart cookie, and probably the smartest one out of the current bunch of recruits. Despite the tough love you gave him, especially because he was your professional responsibility, he was the only one truly receptive to your teachings. Like a sponge, he took in everything you gave with a certain wonder you hadn’t seen in anyone else. It was cute really, how he was so ambitious and doing his best to get your approval.
What you liked the most about working with Leon was how he addressed you. He took your authority seriously, seeing someone in charge instead of your appearance. He didn’t say your name, not your first or last out of respect, but rather he always addressed you as Ma’am. You never had someone say that to you directly, thinking it makes you sound older than you actually are. But with the way his eyes warmed up when he’d say it with full confidence, you didn’t have it in you to tell him to stop.
-
Over the next few weeks, Leon became part of your daily routine, integral to the start of your day. He’d walk in a few minutes early as expected, with two coffee cups in his hands as he waited for you outside your office. Spotting the top of your head coming from speaking to the chief, you were heading his way. You had the same soft smile reserved just for him, one that he always looked forward to seeing when you worked together.
“Got you your usual”, he offered one of the cups to you, your fingers lightly grazing his when taking the warm concoction into your hand.
“Extra caramel?”
“With oat milk, vanilla and cinnamon. I triple checked”, he said enthusiastically, observing you as you sipped the drink. A soft hum escaped you while you closed your eyes in satisfaction.
“You know how to spoil me”, you gave him a wider smile now, seeing how his cheeks blushed the slightest bit at your expression. His reaction made you chuckle, a sound he’s come to enjoy the more time you two spent together. 
“Now come on, we need to work on this case before we patrol at 12. The chief’s on my ass again so let’s get this over with before lunch yeah?”, and without fail, he’d give you the same ending response every time.
“Yes ma’am”
The more you invested in Leon’s skills, the more you realized small things about him that were fairly telling. You weren’t stupid. Anyone with a brain could see that the respect and admiration he had for you was turning into something else entirely. You could tell with every passing moment you had with him, noticing how the tension between the two of you would get thicker after every interaction. You didn’t comment on it. Instead, you enjoyed toying with him, a part of your ego feeding off on how he’d say yes ma’am in such a way that would make you want to hear it more often.
The faint touches between the two of you got more frequent. Your fingers would brush his during the exchange of files, you saw how he’d always be within a hair’s distance when standing near you. Moments spent training in the shooting range were where the intimacy seemed to skyrocket, putting your hands on Leon’s arms to keep his form up as he shot towards his target.
You didn’t need to do that. Leon was a good shot, accurate too. But you enjoyed the way he released a shaky breath whenever you were close to him or touched him, how the tips of his ears reddened when you praised him for hitting the bullseye.
In one certain instance when the R.P.D. was extra busy, you were being hammered with files and administrative work. The coffee sitting on your desk was no longer doing its job of waking you up, and the constant bombardment of having to organize new information was starting to make your head pulse. You stood up from your seat to give your back a break, bending backward until you felt a satisfying crack in your spine. Hearing a knock at your door that brought your attention, you noticed Leon on the opposite end.
“Hey, my bad if I caught you at a bad time. The investigators wanted to review those files on that drug bust we did yesterday, something about missing information”
“Oh yeah yeah, it’s right behind me. Hell, I don’t even know where I put it”, you turned to face the mess behind you, lamenting at the stack of files you have yet to sort through today.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll look for it. You stay focused on what you’re doing”
Just like that, Leon came over behind you, going through the files while you stayed reading over the papers in your hand. The both of you made quick conversation, commenting on how busy it became. The increase of instances flooding the department only added more to your workload. Leon kept digging through the pile, turning his body to go to the other side of you.
In the process, he put a hand on your hip and muttered an apology, slightly making you jump and walking behind you to go to your left side. You tried to pay no mind to the gentle touch, going back to refocusing on the case at hand. He found the document folders he needed, suddenly too close to your body when the second he turned, you moved backward into him. Leon’s hips pressed against your rear, his hands reaching toward your hips instinctively despite the hitch in his breath at the contact.
“S-shit, I’m sorry…”, he mumbled, cheeks flushed red as he walked out of your office. You didn’t get a word in, but his reaction was enough to tell you about what you already knew.
The ghost of his touch filled your mind for the rest of the day, and it was worse for Leon. He tried so hard not to think about it. Not to fantasize about how your hips would feel bouncing against his with force, what you’d sound like when you’re aroused. It was practically impossible for him. His imagination went haywire the second he got home, jerking himself off to relieve the hard-on he’s been managing since earlier this afternoon.
He couldn’t get the image out of his head. He thought about how you’d praise him, call him a good boy for making you feel good. Deep down, he wondered if you were equally as authoritative in the bedroom as you were outside of it. As he released all over his hands with a whine, he sighed to himself, fully aware that he had reached the point of no return with his own thoughts about you. 
-
It was a Tuesday afternoon when both of you were assigned to handle two suspects committing a robbery. Called to the scene, you trailed them down to a nearby commercial street. They were careless too, throwing their guns halfway into the chase and the items they stole slipping from their grasp onto the concrete floor. Catching them felt easy, handcuffing one to the ground and throwing him to the backseat of your cop car. Leon seemed to be distracted, with what you didn’t know. When the second thief seemed to slip from his grasp and started to make a run for it, you knew he needed to get his act together.
“Get your head out of your ass Kennedy! Before I put my foot up there instead. Now move!”, you ordered him to get back into the patrol car. Turning on the police siren, you drove to track down the next suspect and apprehended them with quickness.
The drive to the station was quiet besides the two handcuffed men grumbling behind you. Leon kept his mouth shut, refusing to look your way, and focused on listening to the chatter on the radio. He knew you were pissed, and he didn’t know what had gotten into him today but he couldn’t focus for the life of him. The nagging voice in the back of his mind was telling him to be prepared for the worst, because he fucked up, and worse yet, he fucked up with you.
After bringing the two robbers down to the precinct, you couldn’t erase the irritation from your face. You couldn’t even look at Leon, upset that someone like him after so much training made such a rookie mistake. You only offered a glare, knowing for a fact you’d have to talk to him later on when your temper wasn’t so flared up. For now, you made Leon sit at his desk to do filing work, deciding not to berate him in front of the other officers and saving him the embarrassment.
Knowing you were giving him the silent treatment, he avoided you for the rest of the day, staying late at the R.P.D. in hopes of being able to talk to you. Leon drummed his fingers on his desk absentmindedly, until you came up behind him and got his attention.
“Kennedy, to my office. Now”, your tone of voice was harsh, making the hairs on Leon’s neck rise as he got up to follow you back to your workspace.
You locked the door once the both of you were inside, leaning back against your desk with your tactical belt off so your hips pressed against the wooden edge. Arms crossed over your chest, your head raised at the cop before you, watching his feet anxiously moving as he looked at the floor with slight shame.
“I want to know what happened out there. You messed up, and that’s not like you. You don’t make rookie mistakes anymore, we’re passed that”, you started to speak. Leon’s gaze was pinned on you, trying to hide his humiliation but it was clear as day.
“I know. I know I fucked up, it was a stupid mistake. I’m sorry”
“Yeah, it was. I didn’t invest all this time in training you personally for you to let things like this slip. You’re better than this, you know that”, your tone changed from irritation to concern, trying to get him to see the bigger picture.
“You’re my responsibility, Leon. I’m this harsh and this strict for a reason, and it’s because I care. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t give a shit what happened to you, but I do. This reflects back on me, so just get your head together alright?”, you saw how his brows furrowed a bit in slight confusion at your confession.
You cared about him.
“Yes ma'am. It won’t happen again, I really am sorry”, his hands started to fumble with his tactical belt.
“I know you are, but sorry’s not gonna cut it. I can’t have you distracted like this. Not on my watch”, you said, now walking from the desk until you stood in front of him. He didn’t move a muscle, not knowing what else to do besides stand there.
“If you’re really sorry you’re going to have to prove it. You’re not getting off that easy. You got that rookie?”, your eyes held that intimidating stare that made Leon tense, you could practically hear him gulp. 
“I-I understand ma’am. Whatever it takes I’ll do it.”, he was still oblivious, having no idea what he just got himself into but he wasn’t complaining, not when you were this close to him. Your hand went up towards his belt, a singular finger curving into one of the loops to yank his body forward. Now standing chest to chest he shivered at the close contact, holding his breath and waiting for your next words.
“You’re gonna use your pretty mouth to prove that you won’t mess up like that again. Maybe if you’re good enough, I’ll think about being nice and rewarding you. That okay?”, your words were laced with pure temptation, making Leon nod, too scared to speak up. He didn’t know what to expect, but lord if he wasn’t going to pretend he wasn’t enjoying it. 
“Use your words baby”
“Yeah, f-fuck it’s okay”, he was shaking in front of you, a blush on his cheeks so intense you could feel the heat radiating off of his skin.
“Can I kiss you?”, you tilted your head up towards him, his warm breath against your lips as the ends of your noses touched.
“Please do…”
You didn’t waste another second, lips colliding against his as Leon finally released the breath he was holding. He let you take control, his mind turning to complete mush at just the feel of your mouth against his. Tongues dancing together, you ran your fingers through his hair, his own hands going to paw at your hips. He released needy faint moans, holding on to you as if you were going to leave him any second now. When you pulled away from him and bit his bottom lip he whimpered, a sound you didn’t expect him to make. You fucking loved it.
You walked backward while he followed you on jittery legs. With your back now pressed against the desk again, Leon’s face dug into your neck, leaving a path of kisses in a way that made you chuckle. His hands were everywhere, overwhelmed with what to do or where to touch. You brought your fingers into his hair again, giving him a soft yank as he groaned out from the action. Pupils already dilated, you eyed him closely, how he seemed so far gone when you haven’t even started.
“You want to be good for me Leon?”, your voice was soft, almost patronizing and it only made Leon’s dick pulse in his pants.
“Yes, I wanna be good for you. Don’t want you mad at me”, Leon pouted, and you fought the urge to kiss him again.
“Then get on your knees and start working on your apology”, you commanded, watching how he bit his lip and nodded.
“Yes ma’am”, he was already shifting down to the ground, diligent fingers on the button of your cargos and undoing them, while you threw your shoes off.
Pulling the zipper down, he started to drag the fabric to your knees until it hit your ankles, pants discarded to the side and leaving you in your panties. Sitting on top of the desk, his eyes looked up at yours, coming face to face with where you wanted him most.
His large hands moved from your shin to your knee, then towards your thigh and hip to hook his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, noting the wet patch that was already staining the cotton material. He dragged them down with ease until they hung at your ankle, lifting one of your thighs onto his shoulders to admire all of you with a soft moan.
“Can I taste you? Please?”, he mumbled against your thigh with a soft kiss. He was already playing the part so well, offering him a smirk as you drank in the way he begged you for more. You didn’t even have you train him.
“Yeah baby, you can”
Without hesitation, his mouth made contact with your body, the taste of your wetness filling his tongue and making his chest rumble. It was better than he imagined, moving his tongue up and down against your slit to collect the developing slick. You released a low hum from your lips, already pent up from the stress of your job and your day, now having your favorite rookie tending to you on your orders.
Leon was anything if not keen, tongue lavishing against your throbbing clit and his lips circling around it as he began to suck. You threw your head back at that, hand holding his head in place and hips moving towards him shamelessly. He was grunting under his breath, growing obsessed with the way your body twitched anytime he touched you just right. 
“You’re doing so good Leon, so damn good for me”, you praised him again, feeling the sounds he’d release when you did talk to him. It was debauched, how his senses were filled with just you with no end in sight.
This was how you wanted to see him. On his knees and eager to please.
His attention went back to your opening, feeling it flex around nothing with every flick he gave you. Inserting his tongue into your cunt, your hips arched towards him again, moaning louder than you anticipated.
You were silently thankful your office was a bit farther away from the rest of the department, and being it was later at night, you didn’t have to hide much of anything. You moved Leon’s face closer to your body with a pull of his head, clit pressed against his nose as he sucked at your essence greedily, taking in everything he could get. 
A warmth started to develop in your gut, pleasure like liquid fire making your body twitch. The high you so desperately craved was in near sight, grinding yourself against Leon’s face and using him to get off. He didn’t object, moving his mouth to suck at your clit again, two fingers teasing your entrance before inserting them inside. You cursed under your breath, the dual sensation of Leon’s fingers curling against your g-spot and his consistent sucking brought you closer to your much-needed climax.
“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum”, you could almost taste your release right at the edge of your tongue, could imagine the way it would feel to finally let go.
You looked down to watch Leon at work, how he’d pump his fingers at just the right pace, how his eyes grew hazy with pleasure when they looked up at you.
With one soft nip at your clit your release hit you full force, a small squeal leaving your lips as your gummy walls clenched around his fingers. Your grip on the desk and his hair were both tight, knuckles turned white as stars filled your vision. Leon kept moving his fingers and mouth the whole way through your orgasm, groaning loudly against you and refusing to stop. He couldn’t get enough of you or your taste, forcing you to pull his head away before the overstimulation made it too much to handle.
The both of you were panting, eyes widening when Leon pulled his digits away and inserted them into his mouth to lick off what remained of you. You pulled him up towards his feet, dragging him down to kiss you again and chasing your own taste that flooded his tongue. If you weren’t on a time crunch, you would’ve gladly let him go down on you again.
“Did I do good ma'am? Do you feel good?”, Leon asked, thumbs rubbing your trembling thighs as you came down from your high, flushed face waiting for your approval.
“Yes, you were so fucking good for me. You ate my pussy so well”, your words made him smile then, a dopey lopsided grin that seemed to ease his doubts from earlier.
“I think you deserve a little reward now. You want some help with that pretty boy?”, your eyes gestured to the tent in Leon’s pants, looking up at him from your long lashes.
“God, please touch me”, he begged then, blue eyes engulfed in pure lust.
You didn’t want to tease him any longer, undoing his pants and slipping your hand inside. With a gasp he felt your fingers wrapping around his cock that pulsated with need, knowing it wouldn’t take him long to cum either. He had been on the edge for too long, imagining you like this for what seemed like months. You pumped him, twisting your wrist and pressing your thumb against his slit, feeling the precum that was already making a mess in his briefs. 
“You get hard when you have your superior’s pussy in your face huh? You like being used like that baby?”
“Y-yes, yes I do. God I fucking love it”, he nodded dumbly. “Love the way you taste, the way you feel…”, he didn’t even know what he was saying anymore, mind so blurred with just you that he was losing track of time and himself.
You smirked, kissing his neck and pressing your lips against the mole on his throat. Leon swallowed, hands pressing into your thighs for stability but he was so close to losing it. He thrusts his hips up into your hand, chasing his own high and you gladly let him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear and biting at the lobe. The sounds Leon released were downright pornographic, whines and lewd wet sounds filling your office. 
“S-shit I’m gonna cum. Can I cum? Please ma'am, I’m so close”, he begged again, his cock throbbing and hot in your hand as he spoke. He bucked his hips more into your squeezing fingers, your pace picking up as you jerked him off more persistently. He felt like he could barely breathe, the prickly feeling in his lower spine getting more prominent the closer he got to his orgasm.
“Be a good boy and cum for me Leon. I want to see you cum baby”, it was your final order, and those words alone were his undoing.
His body shook above you when he fell over the edge, his lower stomach flexing hard as he came all over your fingers. He cursed and whimpered, an array of thank yous were said against your neck, hands pressed into your thighs hard enough to bruise your skin. His cum dribbled out of him as his body jerked, still pumping him to the point of sensitivity. He clutched your wrist to signal you to stop, half-lidded eyes looking at yours that filled with mischief.
You took your hand off of him and licked the remaining fluids, purring at the taste of him filling your mouth. Leon bit his lip when watching you, already starting to feel his dick twitch again for more.
He leaned down towards you, kissing you hard and chasing his taste, just like how you did with him. The eroticness of it all overwhelmed him, rasping against you as you pulled away. You looked over his face, cheeks flushed pink and lips plump from their usage. You burn that image into your mind, saving it for later when it would be more helpful. 
“No more distractions or mistakes from here on out Leon. You come to me if you need to clear your head. Understood?”, he released a dry chuckle, placing another kiss against your lips, much softer than before. The intimacy made your chest warm, your smile matching his own.
“Yes ma’am”
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year
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You felt the pressure of a pair of lips against the base of your neck, as a pair of arms slipped over and into your waist firmly; causing your body to freeze up under the sudden contact but melt soon after you heard his raspy voice.
‘You left me alone in bed,’ Leon muttered against your skin as he pressed one last kiss there before shifting his attention to your shoulders, ‘that’s a criminal offence.’
You snorted, ‘to who?’
‘Me.’ He muttered a little sluggish against the fabric of his your nightshirt. ‘Your boyfriend, Leon S. Kennedy.’
‘And what are you going to do about my criminal offence, mr Kennedy?’ You asked, playing along with his half asleep antics because they gave you an delightful insight to the big dumb dork your dating. Also it provided as a highlight for the start of your day.
‘In due to this not being the first time you’ve left me alone in a cold bed. Your punishment is to return to bed with me and do your time by giving me cuddles as repetition.’ Leon responded, his hold on your sides tightening.
Something which didn’t go unnoticed by you as a smile played on your lips as you leaned against his chest.‘Given with how tight you’re holding me, it looks as though I’ve got no choice by the comply to your demands.’
Leon chuckled as he lifted his head from your shoulder, pressing another flurry of kisses to your cheek, making you squeal and attempt in getting away from him but only did so in a halfheartedly manner from how relaxed your body was under Leon’s comforting, strong and warm touch. ‘That sounds like the best course of action because if you haven’t, I would have to resort to drastic measures.’ After saying this Leon moved his fingers to tickle your sides lightly, earning him a firm swat to the back of his hands.
‘I said I’d come back to bed and cuddle you, didn’t I?’ You cried, looking over your shoulder at the blue eyed male with a small glare, while Leon only looked back at you with a successful smile. ‘When I started dating you I didn’t sign up to be torture tickled!’ You added, making Leon chuckle as he then began to drag you back to your shared room.
‘Back to bed we go!’ He chanted along the way.
In the end, you and Leon spent the entire day in bed, only getting up for food, shower, a change of clothes and using the toilet.
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cherubify · 2 months
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leon kennedy is totally whipped for you– anyone with half a brain knows. it's evident in the way he gazes at you, tender and warm. visible in his gentle caresses as he strokes your hair lovingly, in the way he carefully pushes your hair to the side to zip your dress up. in the firm yet delicate way he holds your waist when he pulls you to him. and when he plants a fleeting kiss onto the back of your hand.
even after all he's seen, there is still a kindness present in those blue eyes of his that have seen more than he ever should. it's no secret, leon kennedy loves you more than anything else in a world inhabited by monsters.
that's why he keeps you locked up in a mansion in the mountains, isolated from civilisation and anything that breathes besides you and him. it's all part and parcel of his love– just like how he always reminds you how much he loves you. especially after a mission, where his life is nothing but a pawn in a game of constant unknowns and resident evils.
in the darkness of the room, lit by a passing flash of lighting, you whimper. red lightning runs down his back. threads of blood train after your nails. the bed is about to give out– rocking for goodness knows how long as heavy rain pelts outside the tall glass windows lining the bedroom.
his forehead presses against yours, not enough to bruise, but it's heavy, like his chiseled body that pins you down. it hurts. the puffiness between your thighs hurt. but your sanity rocks between pleasure and pain with each thoughtless thrust he drives into you. his blue eyes are hooded with a heavy veil of dark lashes, and you stroke his cheek shakily. his lashes flutter as he tilted his head ever so slightly, leaning into your touch.
even if he dies, he would claw his way out of hell to come home to you.
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all content written by @puppyina ! do not repost, edit or plagiarise. requests are open for any past written characters.
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hheaven-sentt · 5 months
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devotion
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summary: because love doesn't quite capture it | leon kennedy x partner!reader
word count: 2.4k
warnings: depictions of injuries, angst if you squint, mentions of alcohol consumption, yearning, mutual pining, partners to friends to lovers
notes: BACK FROM THE DEAD W A VENGEANCE. my semester has finished and my second one doesn't start until january so i will be posting for once. college is kicking my ass like all the time so it puts everything else on pause for me anyway ily all | ao3
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The dress feels itchy against your skin. You don’t want to go to this event, so you can’t imagine how Leon feels. He doesn’t even like when you thank him for doing the dishes, so you wonder how he might behave up on a stage to receive a medal. You stretch behind you, reaching for the zipper. Wordlessly, Leon turns to you and zips it up himself. Of course he does; that’s just Leon.
“This is weird,” he says. It’s barely a whisper, breath dusting over your shoulder as he says it. You nod with a sigh.
“I wouldn’t say weird,” you return. You watch his eyes in the mirror. They hover somewhere on your forehead. “Not normal, but not weird,” “I think it’s weird,” he says, and steps away. You nod again, because what else can you say?
Working with Leon has its ups and downs. He’s too quiet some days, and you have to fill in the gaps yourself. Or he’s too loud–sometimes without even saying anything–and you have to figure out how to deal with it. Or he’s just Leon; he laughs and jokes, he helps cook dinner, he doesn’t talk about work. You like those days the best. Had you seen these versions of Leon when you were assigned to him almost ten years ago, you would’ve laughed. Ten years ago, you couldn’t imagine being this close to someone, to care as much as you do about someone you’re paid to be around.
You suppose there’s layers to it, layers you haven’t fully unraveled yet. You know only a few things for certain: Leon is your partner, he is also your unofficial roommate, and you care about him more than you care about others.
“Are you ready?” he asks. He’s standing in the doorway of the bedroom, the light from the hallway making him look like an angel descending to relay a message from God. You swallow and nod.
“Just need my shoes,” you say, moving to the bed and sliding your shoes across the floor to be in front of you. Leon bends down without a word to help you fasten them.
When he looks up at you, he looks less like your partner and more like someone you’re meant to love. An ache resonates within you, a need to reach out a brush your fingers through his darkened hair. He shifts his gaze to your upper arm. Gingerly, he runs the tips of his fingers over a scar that spans from your elbow to your clavicle. It’s ugly and red, courtesy of the nasty burn you’d sustained there a few years ago. The ridged skin is unfeeling as Leon skirts his hand across it, tracing it from your elbow to your shoulder.
“I remember when you got this,” he says absently. His fingers dance across your skin, and you wish the scar didn’t run so deep so you could feel his ministrations. “Thought I’d lost you,”
He says nothing more, just stands up and offers his hand to you to help you off the bed. You take it, and he hauls you up with ease. He twists out of the room like a ghost. You follow him, like you always do.
The scar is one of a few you’ve come to own. You remember the day you got it, too. For whatever reason, you replay the moment in your head over and over in the taxi on the way to the gala. It makes your skin burn.
It was supposed to be a normal day, a normal mission. Go in, extract, get out. Three simple steps that you had done a hundred thousand times before. Leon stood beside you, always offering to enter a room first. You’ll admit, years removed from the situation, you should’ve been more careful, should’ve listened to what he was saying. But you were so angry at him. You felt weak, unnecessary. You remember shoving past him and through a door you hadn’t known was connected to a trigger. Almost as soon as your boot touched the concrete on the other side of the threshold, your hearing went out. It felt like you were standing miles away from a nuclear blast, and you had felt the effects of the delayed shockwave. You were knocked to the ground in an instant, but you didn’t feel pain–not yet at least. When you woke up in the hospital a day later, Leon was asleep in the chair beside you.
“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he’d said. You vowed not to.
“Do you think they’ll at least have an open bar?” he says now, drawing you back into the world. You turn away from the window of the cab to look at him. He’s staring at his hands, forcing a small smile.
“They better,” you say, reaching over and settling a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you. “It’s the only reason I’m going,”
This turns his smile genuine, and he even offers an eyeroll. You squeeze his shoulder, bracelets jingling with the motion. His eyes are on you, and you feel as hot as fresh sin. You hate this; hate that he makes you feel this way, hate that he is so beautiful, hate that you can’t seem to shake this deep seated love you harbor for him. You miss him when he looks away and you remove your hand.
The gala is overwhelming. Leon stays near you, hand hovering near your own. You wish he would reach out and take it. You debate the consequences of doing it yourself.
Breath hot on the shell of your ear, Leon whispers, “You think our taxes went into this?”
You suppress a laugh, tightening your lips into a thin line to fight a smile. “I wouldn’t be surprised, but I’ll pretend like this was all donated,”
“You can consider taxes a donation if you really think about it,” he says, gliding across the floor with you toward an empty table. You snort.
“I think that depends on what your definition of donation is,” you say. He pulls out your chair for you before pushing it in, then takes his own seat beside you. His legs are angled toward you like he only plans on talking to you.
“I think you underestimate my ability to bend definitions to suit my needs,” he says. You laugh again.
You like this version of Leon, and you know that it won’t last very long so you should hold onto it while it’s here. An old jazz song rings out from the speakers across the hall, and the lights catch his eyes just right. They’re really blue, as true blue as blue gets. They’re your favorite shade of blue. If you could paint your living room that color, you would. It’s a soft blue, like the crest of a wave blue, like the sky just after dawn blue, like two perfect oceans set into his skull. There’s a hairline scar that runs between the crows feet of his left eye, one you ache to reach out and trace.
That’s the best way to describe how you feel when you look at Leon: aching. It’s desperation, an aching need to touch and hold. It’s not exactly love, but you don’t have another word for it. Maybe devotion? Looking at him feels like the first time a child sees a kitten. You’re like me, soft and lovable, and we should stay together.
“Have you listened to anything I’ve said in the last few minutes?” Leon asks, putting a hand on your knee that brings you back to the gala. You suck in a breath and shake your head. He smiles wide. “Quit staring at me, makes me feel like I’ve got something on my face,”
“You’re pretty,” you say before you can stop yourself. Maybe pretty is the wrong word, but you don’t know what the right one would be. He’s handsome, sure, but handsome doesn’t encapsulate the way his lashes flutter against his cheekbones or the way he blushes when you smile at him. “Sorry,”
He’s grinning now, giving your knee a squeeze. “You flatter me,”
An hour later, and he’s being called up on stage by your director, who intends to decorate him. You’re beaming with pride, even though you know Leon is dreading this moment. He stumbles across the stage. Cameras are flashing, and you can almost see Leon cringe between photos. He’s off the stage a few minutes later, heading straight for you. You grin more, knowing that he’s choosing to seek solace in you, in your company. He wraps you in a stiff hug that loosens as it endures. You laugh into his shoulder.
“Don’t let me do anything heroic ever again,” he mumbles, burying his face into your neck. You bark a laugh.
“Yeah, okay,” you agree. “I’ll make sure to step in next time,”
In an act that surprises you, Leon tugs you toward the dance floor. You must look wildly confused because he explains, “Just this once. Just one dance,”
You agree, not that you could deny even if you wanted to. He’s looking at you like you’re someone he’s meant to love, like you’re more than just his partner. His hand slots against the curve of your waist like it was made specifically to be there. He’s warm and smiling, and you think maybe he’s had a bit too much champagne. But you like him like this. Who knows when you’ll see him like this again? You stare at him, intent to memorize his features and the way the light catches on the bridge of his nose.
“You’re staring again,” he whispers. You smile sheepishly.
“Never seen you like this,” you reply. He bows his head to chuckle. “Not sure I’ll ever get the chance to again,”
“I’m sure you will,” he says. “You’re the one who brings it out of me,”
You roll your eyes. “I’m more convinced it’s all the free champagne we’ve been drinking,”
“You can believe whatever you want, sweetness,” he says, spinning you. “I’m telling you the truth,”
You’re both giggly and joking the whole way home. Leon has you wheezing about something you can’t remember as you step into the apartment. Tears rest at the corners of your eyes. You shove him playfully. He follows you from room to room like a puppy, making you giggle and flash a smile as you clean up for the night.
You crash onto the bed, warm and light from the night, and reach to take off your shoes. Leon stands in the doorway, watching you. The light from the hallway gives him a halo. Your feet ache as you release them from their prisons, and you glance up to see Leon smiling at you. You return it with the cock of one of your brows.
“You’re pretty,” he says by way of explanation. You feel heat snake up your body. His hands are stuffed into his pockets, hair slightly messy from where he’s run his hands through it, and the first few buttons of his shirt are undone. If you weren’t as shy as you are, you’d probably move to touch him.
Instead, you huff a laugh and toss your shoes to the floor. “You flatter me,”
When you stand and begin to move around him, he grabs your elbow. “I mean it,”
Perhaps, in another life, you would see this as a win. The man you’ve spent most of your life following around and yearning for seemingly returns your affections, and you are about to deny him. Admitting it out loud makes it real, makes it mean something. What happens the next time something goes wrong out there? The next time he does something heroic? Everything will be much too real, and much harder to bury. You blink at him, looking at him for what feels like the very first and last time. He’s still Leon; scruffy stubble, blue eyes, and warmth. He’s still Leon, teetering on being your Leon, and you’re not going to let that happen. You, again, are going to deny yourself from what you want.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. You take in a shaky breath. He’s still holding you, but his touch is a ghost on your flesh.
“Leon, I don’t know-”
“You know that one Frank Sinatra song?” he interrupts. You gape at him.
“Why did you ask if you won’t let me answer?” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. He returns his hands to his pockets.
“Predicted where it was going, figured I’d circumvent it,” he admits, the corner of his lips turning upward slightly. “The song he sings with his wife?”
You shrug. “Maybe? What’s your point?”
“I love you,” he says. Your body goes cold. “That could be the stupidest thing I’ve ever said, but I feel like you should know that before you make whatever decision you’re about to make,”
Your face breaks out into a grin, and you laugh in spite of yourself. “I’m sure you’ve said stupider,”
Whatever worry was on Leon’s face dissolves, and a real, full smile splits across his lips. He takes your face in his hands. He holds you delicately, like you’d break under the slightest pressure. To be fair, you feel like glass at the moment–if glass could have legs made of rubber.
“This makes it real,” you say. He swallows. “No going back, no forgetting, no pretending. When something happens, it will be real,”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he whispers. “It’s worked out for us so far,”
You’re not sure who closes the space first, but it matters little after it’s happened. His lips are gentle and giving against your own. Your hands splay against his sides, using his suit jacket to pull him closer. His hands wind into your hair. There’s a desperation behind his movements, one you’re all too familiar with. After what feels like hours, he breaks from you, leaning his forehead against yours. His breathing is labored, you can feel it in his strong chest beneath your hands.
“This is real,” he says.
“We take risks for a living,” you say. He opens his eyes to peek at you through his lashes. “What’s one more right?”
He grins and kisses you again.
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