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dollfacefantasy · 4 months

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Cool Rider

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon gets you ready for a ride on his motorcycle

word count: 1.4k

a/n: just a little fluff drabble i've been thinking about while i go back and forth on my other longer fics. imagine this to be a little bit after vendetta when leon's starting to get better. hope everyone enjoys, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

“Quit joking around or you’re not going anywhere,” Leon grunts as he continues to mess around with the tire pressure on the rear wheel of his motorcycle.

“I’m just saying-” you chime before being cut off.

“You’re saying nothing more or I’m changing my mind,” he says and gives you a warning look.

Despite his attempt at being stern with you, affection clouds his eyes. You play along for him and mime zipping your lips. With a sharp exhale and shake of his head at your antics, he returns his focus to fidgeting with the pressure gauge hooked to his bike. But you’re happy just because you saw him smile.

You’d been begging him for months to take you for a ride on his bike. Every time you’d asked, you were met with “no” or “in your dreams.” You’d always ask him why, and he’d just brush it off. Too dangerous. It’s something he does alone. You eventually just gave up. He deserved his space, and you knew he’d seen so much pain and death in his life that he was probably a little overprotective by nature. It came as an absolute shock to you when he approached you last week and asked if you’d wanna go for a ride this weekend. He’d said it so casually, like he hadn’t shot you down time after time before. You weren’t sure what had changed, but a win is a win, right?

Now sitting on the stool by the bench where he kept all his motorcycle stuff, you swing your feet back and forth. As much as you’d been teasing him for the last thirty minutes about taking forever and a half, it was fun seeing him so locked in on his task. You studied his face, the way his brows furrowed and his eyes hardened, his lips curling a little with dedication.

“Hey stalker girl, instead of staring me down, maybe you should finish getting ready,” he teases as he finishes up and starts putting the tools away.

“I am ready,” you say.

“No you’re not. Where’s your helmet?” he asks while walking to you.

“Mmmm… you don’t wear a helmet,” you playfully point out.

You were just being difficult because he was so easy to mess with. You weren’t dumb, and you had no desire for your brains to splatter across some pavement. In general, motorcycles kind of scare you to be honest. If anyone but Leon was driving it, you wouldn’t even consider hopping on the back. So there was absolutely no way you were gonna get on that thing without a helmet strapped on.

“I didn’t ask you if I wear one. Where’s yours?” he says.

He stands between your thighs and looks down at you, taking in your pretty eyes, pouty lips, the face he couldn’t get enough of. His fingers run along your jaw, his thumb stroking over your chin. Every detail had him enraptured. He made fun of you for staring, but truth be told, he was just as guilty. The only difference was he hid it much better than you did.

“I’ll get it in two seconds. You were just taking so long, I figured I had some time to relax,” you joke with a quick peck to his lips, hopping off your seat.

“You better get it. I want your pretty little head kept in one piece,” he murmurs and lays a kiss on your hairline. He lightly swats your ass as you walk away, drawing that laugh from you that he loved to hear. He’s smiling while grabbing the keys, not that you could see it with your back to him. You were easy to mess with too.

“I just don’t think it’s fair that I have to wear one if you don’t,” you say as you lift the helmet up and inspect the one he’d bought for you.

“Too bad. I know what I’m doing. You don’t. God forbid I actually let you do this, and you end up with a concussion or something,” he grumbles while grabbing the keys.

“If we get in a crash though, your experience won’t matter. We’ll both go flying all the same. Then you’ll be the one with the concussion or worse, and I’ll be flat outta luck having to take care of you,” you explain while fidgeting with the straps on the helmet.

“Here, gimme that,” he says, taking it from you. He fixes the straps and gets them where they should be. Yeah, you’re being intentionally stubborn, but you had a good point and he knew it. “If it’s so important to you, I can wear one too.”

“It is important to me. I always want you safe,” you say, taking a moment to be genuine between all your teasing.

“I know, baby,” he says softly. It’s all he could say. Obviously, with the life he had, he couldn’t “be safe” all the time. But god, you made him want to try.

He gives you one last kiss before putting the helmet on you. He fastens it into place, making sure it’s nice and tight. Tilting your head around, he inspects it thoroughly. Has to be certain this shell of hard plastic is gonna do its job and protect his precious girl.

After he’s done examining the efficacy of the helmet, he pulls back to give you a once over. Really look at you.

“Does it look good?” you ask, voice slightly muffled.

He chuckles and nods. “Yeah, it looks good. Pretty cool,” he confirms.

Of course you looked more than good. The sight of you completely melted his heart. He just didn’t know how to say it. He’d never been too good with words when you were involved. You made everything foggy, hard to think.

He couldn’t see the grin on your face right now, but he could just about feel the excitement radiating off of you as you pulled him into a hug, the shiny dome covering your head resting over his heartbeat. His palm runs up and down your back before you pull away and head to the motorcycle.

“Are we ready to go?” you ask.

He could hear the anticipation in your voice too. It was infectious, made him want to get on and speed off without looking back. But he still had a little hesitation left. Rationally, he knew he’d done everything he could to make sure this would go smoothly. In all likelihood, you would just have some fun and then come back home and everything would be fine. The irrational part of him just wanted that to be 100% guaranteed. He’d lost so many people. He couldn’t survive losing you, especially to something as trivial as a motorcycle accident.

But he was stalling now, and he knew it. You deserved this. Deserved to have the fun he’d offered you. You’d been so good to him for the last several months, putting up with him when it would’ve been reasonable to leave him in your rearview mirror. He swallows his doubt and nods.

But as he sees you start to look at it like you’re gonna get on, he stops you.

“Wait a second,” he says, starting to shrug off his jacket, “It’s cold out, and with the wind and everything. Just put this on.”

He can’t see how you lovingly roll your eyes at this which is probably for the best anyways. Knowing him, he’d probably get all huffy and defensive about it. Argue the practicality of his decision rather than just admitting he’d gone soft for you.

Regardless, you let him wrap the leather around you, sliding your arms into the sleeves. You give him a thumbs up, and he pulls you close to him, thoughtlessly planting a smooch on the cool helmet like he’d normally do to your head.

“You better hold on tight. This isn’t a video game. You don’t get extra points for riding with no hands,” he teases before grabbing the extra helmet he had and putting it on.

This time you give a mock salute and watch him swing his leg over the seat. He waves you over and you gladly get on behind him. The warmth of your front presses against his back. He looks down, admiring the way your hands lock around his waist, your arms adorned in the white stripes of his jacket.

He wheels the bike out of the garage, taking a deep breath as checks to see that the street is clear. One more sigh and mental reassurance later, he’s speeding out onto the road. He knows it’s all worth it as soon as he hears your laughter and feels you clinging to him even harder.

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil fluff

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cherubify · 2 months

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SERVICE CHARGE / LEON KENNEDY

6.5k words, based on this

cw: waitress f!reader, blackmail, stalker, power abuse, noncon, dubcon, (unprotected) p-in-v, fellatio, spanking, implied cunnilingus, dirty talk, corruption kink, breeding, lack of aftercare, mentions of blood (no bloodplay) / minors dni

a/n: big thanks to @xoxostarlet for beta reading! pls check out her work it's vry yummy! n thanks for 50+ follows!! also i hc this as post re4 leon bcs of my og drabble but it can be di/ vendetta leon too it works even bttr ok bye!!

Leon’s not quite sure why he’s so taken with you– a girl waitering at your family’s restaurant, a dingy place in the outskirts of the city. Maybe it’s because he’s a simple guy- sees a pretty, little thing and can’t help but fantasise about you. You’re younger than he’d like, but old enough to warrant his wandering gaze at the way your oil stained apron wraps around your perfect waist, at the knotted ribbon you always messily tie that rests on the swell of your cheeks. You’re practically an angel in his eyes, your halo the form of a sloppily tied hair bun that sits atop your head with unruly strands sticking out.

Maybe it’s because you’re quite a character- armed with rather polite comebacks and one liners that you dish out to ungrateful, difficult customers. Of course, you’re so well loved by the regulars (him included) that you barely have to lift a finger to kick them out yourself. Everyone here in this tiny family restaurant loved you, their perfect waitress with the perfect smile. You’re enthusiastic about your mundane job too, fast on your feet and even faster with your words when running through demanding orders.

Maybe it’s because you’re still so young that you have this amount of energy. Or maybe it’s because of the lack of hired hands that you had to work with ten times the amount of energy you should normally exert. He remembers caring more about details and the nitty gritty things when he was your age. But he digresses.

Whatever it is, he thinks you’re quite the charmer. You have him wrapped around your little finger, and he’d like to make it known to you. But the trouble lies in your denseness. You’re beyond saving with how each of his flirtatious comments would fly over your head, soar, even. With how clueless you were, it was a safe bet to assume you were a dumb little girl who had yet to have her cherry popped. Just a silly virgin playing the pretence of an adult.

Oh right, that’s another reason why he’s so taken by you. The idea of ruining you was exhilarating– worth the trouble of driving for half an hour after work to this hole in the wall just to see you. He finds himself wondering how you’d look bent over the tiny bathroom sink in the back of the shop, jeans pooling at your ankles as he eats your cute butt. Oh, how he’d love to unravel you with only a thin door separating you and your customers and parents.

He has to thank his superiors for meeting you. If it weren’t for that random party they held that night, he probably would never have touched this decrepit store. (For him, an hour away from home meant one less hour to kiss his bed.) That night you had introduced yourself as their waitress and patiently guided them through the menu with recommendations.

The waitress before him with quite the looker, pretty despite the mess on her apron and the sweat that clung to the nape of her neck. How old were you? In your late teens– or maybe your blossoming twenties? He searched your eyes for answers, while you tucked your loose hair behind your ear and waited patiently for his table to decide. He made small talk because that’s something he’s gotten good at with the ladies.

“Quite the establishment you’ve got running here.” He commented as he gestured at the rowdiness with his eyes. You snapped out of your frozen daze to meet his blue eyes. Was this hottie talking to you? You swallowed nervously and wrung your fingers together.

“Sorry,” you laughed breathlessly. “It’s always like this after eight til closing hours. These guys trod in here after work and take it out with booze.”

“I can see that. Your parents own the place, hun?” He asked.

“For twenty years. Going stronger than ever,” you nodded. He smiled and asked for your name, and you willingly gave it with a demure smile.

Your name fits you, perfect for an angel such as yourself, he thought. His coworkers paid you little attention in their drunken state; this was their second round of restaurant hopping. Leon had to remain sober to chauffeur them home, and he was glad that he was sober enough to see and not forget you. You wouldn’t become a blurred image, a forgotten ghost in his memories as a result of intoxication. He was glad he was the only one who would remember this encounter.

On the way out, he had an arm supporting his fallen coworker. You held the door open, not minding the men who leaned lifelessly against his car like mannequins. You seemed amused, casual about the blacked out group that left the store blacked out drunk. Must have seen it a lot, he assumed.

“Do patronise us again, Mr Kennedy. Preferably when it’s not rush hour,” you had chuckled lightly.

And if such a pretty girl like you asked so sweetly, who was he to deny you? So he came as often as he could. You were always busy with attending to other customers, barely having enough time to sacrifice for idle chatter. He needed idle chatter, enough to grow your curiosity in him to be interested.

To get your attention, he would pull out a lighter (an expired one of his, a convincing prop) and click it a few times, cigarette pursed between his lips. And somehow, miraculously over the sea of rowdy customers you always heard it. The clicking over the cacophony in the restaurant. And like clockwork, you would storm over to warn him not to smoke inside.

“Mr Kennedy!” You placed your hands on your hips, frowning. Your brows were scrunched up in a disapproving frown whilst a pout played on your lips.

“It’s Leon,” he said while pocketing the bud and lighter. The grin on his face of hardened features made him look way younger– but you snapped out of your thoughts to fold your arms across your chest.

“Well, Leon,” he shivered at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. A buttery sound, gentle but firm like your nature. “I told you we don’t allow smoking in our shop. If you want, there’s a quiet alley beside us for it.”

“I know, I know,” he shrugged, and you’d roll your eyes in feigned annoyance before asking for his order.

You placed his menu before him, and without opening it, he recited his usual. And this cycle occurred over and over again like a broken record. Your reactions were the same, albeit less exasperated each time as you got used to his antics. He could tell– he was starting to grow on you.

He would leave generous tips for you too thanks to his expandable wallet. You know, for the service charge. The first few visits you fought to return the money because even though you were poor and desperate, you weren’t going to accept hundreds like it was nothing!

“Mr Ke- Um, Leon. I really can’t accept this,” you shook your head and pushed the stack of bills to his chest.

“Just take it. For the great service.”

“I really can’t, you always leave me no choice.” You frowned but pocketed it anyway. Couldn’t argue with the man who loomed over you even with a counter separating him from you. It made you nervous, and you lacked the heart to push, unlike with other customers.

“Why can’t you?” The blonde asked as you showed him out. Holding the door with your back, you shook your head.

“My parents already think you’re a mafioso with the amount of money you tip. Anymore and I don’t know what they’ll make of you!”

Aw, you were concerned for him? Little ol’ him? He wanted to swipe a thumb over the pout playing on your plush lips and kiss you. Kiss you and lead you to the alleyway beside your family store and take you then and there. How would you react to that, he wondered? Would you be happy?

He was answered instantly when your eyes lit up at something behind him. He turned to see a beat down Toyota in the driveway, and a skinny guy clambered out with a backpack, books in hand. Your face glowed radiantly. Leon wondered what you saw in that awkward boy. You bid Leon goodbye with a stutter and led the boy in, leaving poor Leon to stand on the porch with a disgruntled expression and stinging in his chest. He knew the answer to his earlier question: probably not, because you already had a thing for someone else.

Leon visited again during one of your quieter shifts. During a weekday, on his time off. You sat in the corner of the store with the same boy while doing homework together. When he said something, your face lit up and you laughed toothily. A genuine, earnest and bright smile. Something he never got to witness, receiving only your customer service smiles when he cracked his best jokes for you.

But he couldn’t bring himself to stay mad at you for long. It couldn’t be helped that you were just a doe-eyed girl who didn’t know how to appreciate him. No matter, he could teach you how. Since you were lacking the brain cells to even try. But first, he had to do something about that boy.

It was easier than stealing candy from a baby. Just a few documents and the boy’s home was evicted. He knew the rest, but as you sat across Leon, face buried in your arms as you shared the story, he listened. It was like playing a video game and being spoiled of its ending. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave your side as you sniffled about your new ex-boyfriend. Your first one, too. He really helped you dodge a bullet, and you should be thanking him instead of ruining his dinner table with your tears. It left a sour taste in his mouth, but he swallowed it.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered, even though there was no one else in the store but you two. (And your parents as they watched from the kitchen. His eyes met theirs, and they whispered not so discreetly to one another and he smirked.) He patted your head, and you flinched at the unexpected weight on your head. He mussed your hair with a (fake) smile.

“It’s all gonna work out, I promise.”

You looked at him incredulously, brows furrowed. But you nodded anyway. Good, as you should. You need not question him; just listen and obey.

Months easily passed as he played this game of cat and mouse with you. You, the unsuspecting mouse, who had grown to trust him. Fondly, maybe. He knew what you saw in him- a reliable, honest regular who gave you good advice and helped you at times in need. And it was true, from the goodness of his heart, he was at your every beck and call. And he would be forevermore, even if you rebuked him to the depths of hell, where he rightfully belonged.

So one day, when you looked worse for wear, he asked if something was up. You shared with a tired smile that you’ve been struggling to focus in class lately due to the influx of new customers. A food critic had written a blog post about the store and business boomed. He had to find out who the culprit was and take down their site, but that was for later.

He perked up when you shared that you wanted to put flyers around the neighbourhood to hire more workers. So he offered to help. He had a car, so he could spread the word further and get the job done faster than on foot, he reasoned.

“Thank you so much. You’re the best, Leon!”

Your eyes shone with relief and you threw your arms around him. He caught you, albeit with surprise. You showered him with gratitude while clinging to him as he sat, shellshocked in his seat.

Your first hug. Your curves were soft against his hardened one, and his hands itched to hug you back, to trail down your smaller body and feel you through your work clothes. But Leon steadied himself- he had to win the game in the long run, he couldn’t afford to drop out of the race so soon. The blonde retreated his hands and cleared his throat, and you practically crawled off him. Your hand bumped into the tent between his pants, but thankfully you were too flustered to notice.

“U-Um, I’ll pay you back,” you had said, and you offered him a shy smile. “Not that I have much but I’ll make sure it’s worth your time.”

“How about a kiss?” He prompted with a lopsided smile. Oops, that was an impulsive move. Like chasing the king’s piece while neglecting the imposing queen a few tiles away. Said queen being your parents, who stared at you disapprovingly like you had shed your angelic wings for those of a demon’s.

Your mouth gaped open for a moment but then you shook your head. “You shouldn’t tease me,” you whispered, hands rubbing your arms awkwardly.

His face fell, but he recovered with a boyish grin.

“Just pulling your leg. ‘S all good!”

It wasn’t good. His plans crumbled because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Now it was awkward between you two. He found the papers you put up yourself and threw them onto the passenger seat, a messy pile with the share you had given him for his part. He clicked his tongue and shredded the flyers that you painstakingly designed, tossing the pieces out the window as he raced down the highway home in his car. He had to push harder, find other ways to corner you so you wouldn't be able to refuse him. Not again.

Once he reached home, he practically inhaled his shirt, where your scent faintly clung. It was intoxicating, the heat of your body pressed against his and the smell of your sweat mixed with your natural scent. God, you knew how to rile him up without even trying. His cock was painfully hard in his fist as he laid on his bed, stroking himself with his jacket to his face.

When he arrived at the establishment the next day he found you in the back– in the kitchen– where you hung your head in shame while scrubbing dishes. He had caused quite the scene in the store; your father had mustered the courage to warn him (albeit politely) not to lay a hand on his precious daughter. It was quite funny, the man shook like a leaf as he weakly poked a finger into Leon’s chest. It was astonishing and hilarious at how his voice choked whilst dishing out empty threats of what he’d do to Leon if he messed with his girl. All the while your back faced him, unwilling to speak for the next few weeks.

Your parents had taken it on themselves to switch shifts with you whenever he appeared. They practically had his visiting hours memorised too, so it wasn’t like he could waltz in whenever he pleased. They were a pain, an overprotective bunch. For a grown up miss like yourself, it was a wonder why they were still so protective. Probably because they could recognise a wolf in sheep's clothing the moment he walked into their restaurant a second time, eyes prowling until they landed on you.

It mattered not because he would have his way whether they approved or not. He needed no consent form, and not from you either.

…

Your family’s restaurant was on the ground floor of a little building you stayed in. Your residency was located on the second floor, off limits to customers by a locked door. Nothing a little lock picking could solve, thankfully.

Nobody but you was home, he made sure of that when he saw your parents leave in their car. He wasn’t quite sure where you were, but when the sound of running water leaked into the empty hallway, a smile creeped onto his face. His eyes fell on one door that was coloured differently from the rest. There you were. The door creaked ajar, and he peered from the thin gap to see you standing in a glass box. It was humid, water vapour swirled around the bathroom whilst condensation fogged the shower, leaving him little but enough to see.

The shower was turned off, and your hands mindlessly trailed down your body as you scrubbed it with a loofa. You bent over, reaching for your toes, and Leon almost burst in to take you there himself. The growing tightness in his pants hurt, and hell your perfect ass was beckoning him like a sailor to a siren’s call. You hummed softly, blissfully unaware of the man ogling your flushed, naked body.

He swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he shakily took out his phone. The sound of the camera clicking was muffled by the echoing sound of the shower as you sung your silly song. When he had his fill, he took one last longing glance before closing the door behind him.

Women spend forever in showers. Assuming this, he snuck into your room. It was simple, save for the abnormal mountains of plushies that lined your bed and your shelves. Japanese merchandise everywhere– he recognised a smaller white bear next to a much bigger brown one. Rilakkuma, or something. You had quite the collection. Were you fans of those bears? Should he gift you some? Ah, but your parents would toss them into the fire. As his mind somersaulted from one reckless thought to another, he noticed a laundry basket in the corner of your room.

He sauntered over and peered at its contents with sparkling blue eyes. He lifted your sweaters and produced a white one with a pink bow on the front. Your used panties. His heart hammered in his chest as he held it with trembling fingers. The blonde sniffed the damp patch on the gusset and groaned. His dick was already aching to be freed earlier when he saw you in the shower. Now his balls were clenching and screaming for release.

But it would be a waste to stop now. He didn’t know when you would return. So he pocketed the article of clothing and continued rummaging through your possessions.

He even went through your closet to inspect your collection. What were you into? Did you have a specific brand you frequented? Did you prefer lace or silk? Or cotton, like the one snug and warm in his pocket?

He found a matching set of lace underwear sat in the back of a drawer, a translucent design with roses and ribbons. He inspected it curiously– were you waiting to use them? Were you planning on wearing this for your ex-boyfriend? His lips curled into a snarl. It was a good thing he had gotten the kid off your radar. He couldn’t afford to let anyone see you in such scandalous lingerie. Only he should have the privilege of doing so. His mind raced with thoughts as he traced a finger along the strap of your bra.

Then your door creaked and you swung it open. He turned his head to see you, standing at the doorway wrapped in a fluffy towel that hugged your chest and hung above your knees. Your wet hair clung to your face, rivulets cascaded down your flushed skin. When your eyes met his, you froze. Wide eyes met his.

Uh oh.

Before you could scream, Leon lurched forward and clamped a hand over your mouth. He shushed you softly, mirroring your wide eyed expression.

“I know it looks bad,” he whispered. The force against your mouth prevented you from speaking. You began trembling as his lips inched closer, “But I don’t mean any harm.”

“Mmhmm?!” You mumbled against his palm. He withdrew and you gasped, stepping back while hugging your damp, shivering frame. “Leon, you can’t be here. This- This level is off limits to customers!”

“But I’m not just a customer,” he spread his arms. He slowly approached, footsteps thudding against the carpet, “And c’mon, you like me, right?”

Your eyes were ready to pop out of your skull. “Like you? I mean- Yes but- but not like- Like…” You squeaked as your back thumped against your door. Your hand reached behind and blindly searched for the doorknob. When you finally caught it, the blonde slammed a hand beside your head.

His face inched forward, a frown contorted on his handsome, hardened features. “Like what?” He breathed. You shivered at his warm breath fanning your cold skin. Hesitation paralysed your tongue, and as you struggled to speak, he clasped your jaw with his hand. His questioning, cold gaze was unlike the usual warmth he carried. And it scared you. You swallowed and choked out.

“...Not like lovers.”

A silence ensued between the two of you. The birds outside your window chirped with fervour, as if you weren’t cornered by your customer whom you had grown to trust over the past couple of months. His thick brows knitted tightly against his forehead as he gripped your jaw harshly. You winced, his bruising touch hurt and your hands clawed at his wrist. His nose wrinkled with displeasure as his eyes darkened. He was disappointed, but he couldn’t deny that he saw it coming. Didn’t sting any less.

“So that’s what you think of me,” he spat. Then he smashed his lips against yours and yanked your towel off your body. Your hands flew to his chest as you desperately pushed, a muffled scream on your lips as you resisted. Leon gripped your wrists and slammed them over your head against the door whilst slotting a knee between your trembling legs.

You tried to shout but he shoved his tongue into your mouth and embraced yours in a passionate tango. You couldn’t scream, couldn’t stop him as he shut you up with fervent kisses that sent shocks down your spine. His knee rubbed against your slit, and he bumped into your clit purposefully, eliciting a whine from your saliva stained lips. He pulled away to look at you– and gods, you were so beautiful. So pliant for him, so–

“Help!”

You screamed at the top of your lungs. But your head snapped to the side, and you stared blankly at his shoes. Your cheek stung, pulsating with a dull throb as you placed a hand over where he had slapped you. Tears welled up in your eyes and you refused to look up at him. You tried to run again, but this time he dragged you over to your bed and pushed you down.

Then he flipped open his phone and showed you his photos. You gaped in shock at the hundreds of blurry yet distinct shower pics in his album. The focal point? You.

He met your concerned gaze with a half-lidded one. He spoke quietly and slowly as he held the device over your face.

“You can run, but all it takes is one push and I’ll have this photo publicised everywhere. You wouldn’t want to ruin your parent’s business… right?”

More tears welled in your eyes and your bottom lip trembled with a sob. He hushed you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Lashes fluttered close as your tears slid down your damp cheeks while the water from your undried hair seeped into your sheets. His voice was a broken record as your vision darkened.

“Shh, it’s alright. It’s gonna be alright…”

The rest was a blur. All you remembered was foggy vision and searing skin. But Leon remembered it all. You put up quite an impressive fight for a little girl like you. You had landed a blow in his temple and sent him reeling into your bed frame. But you were too weak to run, thanks to all the love bites he left around your inner thighs and legs that left you tingly and numb. You tried to crawl away, but even then it was pointless.

For the most part, you were pretty compliant. Like the good girl you were, you spread your legs prettily when asked and even nursed his cock with your lewd tongue, eyes glazed with tears and self-hate whilst he ate your pussy out. Hell, the rumours were true. Virgins gave the best head. You let him cum down your throat too, like the good girl you were. Your mouth pussy was so tight that he swore he saw angels flapping above him. And the cherry on top was when he finally hilted inside you, becoming one at last.

You laid quietly on his chest as he stroked your hair. It was damp, unlike your body which blazed with an ungodly heat that only hell could compete with. Your heart thumped in your chest, a rhythm unmatched with Leon’s. You couldn’t see his face, and it was probably best this way.

He was your first– a fact you had to come to terms with. You sniffled softly. Even though he forced himself on you, he still made sure to make it not hurt too much. It was too easy to give in to his touches– so you failed to put up a decent struggle. A single tear slid down your flushed cheek. You hated that he was so gentle yet so cruel with you.

For Leon, you would be his last, because he swore he’d never let go of you. He would make you his. Physically first, emotionally second, whatever the order mattered little to him. Because you were now bound to him, your souls intertwined in ways your bodies could never attempt to achieve.

He stared up at the ceiling. There was so much to do, and so much time now that you were his. Today felt good. Great. Pride glowed in his chest and he kissed your damp hair tenderly. You were finally his. Finally his to take and to train.

…

“L-Leon!” you squealed, clawing at the sink that he had bent you over. Jeans and panties pooled at your ankles, sitting on your dirty sneakers. Your lips were bleeding because you bit them to stop your screams.

You always had the wildest reactions to whatever he did. Was it because you were a nervous wreck? It’s been barely a month since he started breaking you in. Quite a bit of time to get accustomed to his antics. Looks like you needed more practice, he mentally noted.

“Shut up,” he hissed, rising to his full length to tower over you. His chest pressed against your back, and you whined at the heat pressed between your butt. “Be quiet or they’re gonna find us.”

You held his gaze in the bathroom mirror, and he placed his hands over yours as you still gripped the sink. Your hair had come undone, a mess that framed your flushed face as you panted softly. Goodness, you looked like a wreck. No thanks to the smug bastard behind you.

The blonde took pride in his work and belted out a laugh. A smack on your ass reeled you over the sink again, and you glared at him. Your eyes screamed: aren’t you a hypocrite? But he answered with a boyish grin that gave you butterflies. The damned smile of the devil himself.

His zipper travelled south and he popped himself out of his pants. He stroked it mindlessly before spinning you around so that you faced him. You stared at him incredulously and he gestured with a nod of his chin.

Leon needed no words, you knew what he wanted. Your bare knees hit the sticky bathroom tiles as you knelt, on tiles where its corners were cracked and filled with dirt that religiously lined its crevices. You took his semi-hard on in your little hand, and it twitched to stand at full length. It curved towards his toned abdomen, jumping in your loose hold. The head was flushed, beads of precum dotted the circumference of the tip.

You looked up at him and licked tentatively. He inhaled through his teeth as you gave him puppy licks, teasing the tip with the curve of your tongue while languidly stroking his cock. His hands carded through your hair, pushing back your stray hairs so that he could see you better. So pretty and willing for him, he grinned, and so eager to please.

A broken moan fell from his lips as you suckled on the tip like a baby on a pacifier. He tugged your hair backwards, and you frowned at him but took him in your mouth fully. You swallowed around his length, and it jumped in your throat as he clamped a hand on your head. He held you steady as he thrust his hips, fucking your throat deep and slow like he liked. He was never the kind of guy to rush a process in sex. Not when your mouth pussy was the perfect toy in the world. All for him to monopolise and use.

He chewed on his bottom lip and groaned. “So good. ‘S perfect for me, shit- Good girl. Taking my cock with your mouth so well- fuck…” He babbled mindlessly, drowning in his pleasure as you clutched the back of his ankles. You gripped onto the scratchy fabric with your fingernails and moaned around his length. Suddenly, somebody knocked.

“Hey. Are you there, (y/n)?” Your father called out. You stared up at Leon in terror, but he was too preoccupied with your throat hugging his dick to even care. You gagged when he jabbed his dick against your gummy walls.

You glared at him with teary eyes, and he gestured at your nose- no doubt reminding you to breathe with it. Gently slapping his legs, you tried to free yourself with a warning look. Leon rolled his eyes and called out, “You’ve got the wrong person. It’s just me.”

“Oh-” your dad recognised him, and he hesitated before saying, this time louder. “(y/n)’s missing, I can’t find her anywhere.”

“I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she’s upstairs,” He grinned as he thrust into your mouth. You gagged again, and he chuckled softly as he stroked the top of your head. “Perhaps she’s taking a shower.”

As if something clicked in you, your eyes widened in fear and you tried to pull away frantically. Not that he’d let you, as he held your head in place from the back, fingers tangled with your hair as he dug his blunt nails into your scalp. A warning to remind you of your place. You complied with a weakened grasp on his pants as you lowered your eyes.

Your father muttered incoherently before stomping away. When a minute passed, Leon finally pulled out and you gasped exaggeratedly, a hand rubbing your sore throat.

“You’re such an asshole sometimes,” you whisper shouted through coughs. The fight in your eyes had returned as you leaned against the wall, pants still pooled around your ankles. The man you mistook for a kind person was truly a wolf in sheep’s clothing all along, a ravenous beast that ravaged you whenever he fancied. You knew that now. If only you had known sooner, then you wouldn’t be stuck in this mess.

“You know you like it,” he said in a sing song voice. You crinkled your forehead as he lowered the toilet seat cover and sat on top of it.

He spread his legs and leaned back. His dick twitched against his stomach. Its length shined with your saliva and blood from your busted lips. Your chest tightened as he coaxed you with the wave of his hand.

“C’mon, finish what you started.”

…

Your parents were on to the two of you faster than he’d expected. There was one time when he almost found Leon and you in the restaurant’s kitchen. If it weren’t for the locked door, he was sure your dad (if he could muster the strength) would chop his balls off and frame them above his bed like a banner. That was how much he had grown to detest the regular, evident in the way he would wordlessly slam his dishes down on his table. Maybe he knew what had transpired in the toilet that day. How he fucked your ass and brains out in the toilet til you were a whimpering, unthinking mess. The store had to close for the day because of the lack of help on the sales floor.

Your dad even refused the fat tips for his wonderful service. Oh, whatever shall Leon do?

Your mother was also a bit of a tough crowd. Eyes sharp with distrust, always keeping her daughter by her side in the kitchen. Her death grip on the butcher knife would’ve been frightening if it weren’t for her trembling knees when he gazed her way. Maybe she also knew of that one time he made you squirt in your parent's room, coating their bedroom mirror with your shared fluids as he pressed you against it. Quite the overprotective parents they were.

And for the other regulars, they continued fantasising about their lovely waitress. Not knowing that she was taken by a traitor among them, a guy that kept to himself in the corners, lighter in hand as he lured your attention as always. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you always found yourself in his arms time and time again.

Your parents were in their room next door as you sat in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist. Two bodies clung desperately together, wrapped in a sweaty embrace as he cupped your plush ass cheeks in his hands, hoisting you up and then dropping you so you’d slam down on his length. His eyes, muddied with desire, were locked with yours as your tongues fought for dominance in each other's mouths. A pile of underwear, his and yours– the lacey one with roses and ribbons (from ages ago)– were tangled on the carpet indiscreetly.

Your hands wandered up and down his scarred back. The tip of his cock jabbed against your cervix, and you whimpered against his lips. Fingernails dug into the scar on his shoulder, an indented wound that caused him to exhale through gritted teeth.

“Leon-” you pulled away and rested your forehead against his. Your nose bumped into his as he bounced you, “-I love you. I love- mhn… love you so much…”

The blonde could barely hear your muffled words over the incessant creaking of your bed. But he nuzzled your nose, a smile playing on his flushed face.

“I love you too,” he whispered, and he pressed a tender kiss to your lips. “Love you so much, baby.”

He slowed down his ministries and embraced your lips with delicate kisses. With his twitching cock buried in the depths of your sticky, pulsing cunt, you moaned his name and angled your head for more. Your arms wrapped around his neck in a loose embrace as you stayed like this, sloppily kissing while basking in the moonlight that seeped from your curtains.

You grinded your softness against his body, chest mushed on his sweaty pectorals. A mewl fell from your swollen lips as you gazed at him longingly. “More, need more.”

“Fuck,” he inhaled shakily. He swiped his thumb under the crease of your eye. “You’re such a needy thing. Drunk on my cock this quick already, hm?”

“Yeah,” you smiled softly, “‘Cause it’s you.”

The man laughed quietly– he swore there were butterflies in his stomach. They fluttered around in his depths as if he wasn’t currently balls deep in you. God, he was so whipped for you. He was such a lucky man– he didn’t deserve your smile.

He carefully flipped you over and placed you on your knees. You rested your head on the sheets, leaned forward to tilt your butt towards him. It rested on your crack, and a giggle bubbled from you when you wriggled against his cock. A playful smack on one cheek echoed in your room. You would shoot him death glares whenever he did that. But today you moaned into the sheets and smooshed your ass against his torso for more.

Fuck, he grimaced. How did you get this lewd? Oh it was thanks to him. With his ego mightily stoked, he chuckled and soothed the hand mark with another.

Leon gripped your waist with one hand, another spreading your cheeks to get a better view as he slid himself into your wetness. You were always a tight fuck, gripping hard enough to snap him in half, but today’s descent into you had him arching his own back in bliss. It was like you were trying to milk his balls worth, like you wanted a bun in the oven tonight.

You gritted your sheets in your teeth, strings of drool snaking down your chin as your body rocked up and down the bed. Muffled moans rose in pitch as he speared your insides, his hipbone smashing into your jiggling ass with the relentless snapping of his hips. Dishevelled threads of blonde hair hung over his tightly lidded eyes, bouncing as he chased his high.

“Fuck fuck fuck. I love you. You’re mine-” he rambled as he slammed into your womb punishingly. “-Gonna breed you with my kids. You want that? Fuck, say you want it!”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you babbled his name brokenly. Garbled ‘yes’s fell from your quivering lips, and he snaked a hand under you to slap your clit with his calloused, scarred palm. You gasped and he shoved your head into the mattress when you cried his name in pleasure. A few more slaps and you were trembling like a leaf, your upper body totally collapsed onto the bed like a used doll. Your walls gripped him tightly, ripping out a deep moan from Leon. Then he pressed his hips flushed to your quivering butt and emptied his seed into you.

The warmth in your belly was comforting, the heat spread to the rest of your body as you hummed softly in approval. You collapsed entirely on the bed, and his dick slipped out with a soft sound. Stained with rings of cream, it hung limply between his toned thighs, and you weakly crawled over to run your tongue along one of its veins.

Leon’s cock twitched on your tongue. Amused, he took his phone and snapped a picture of you. He held the screen beside your face, gazing at the matching blissed out expressions you carried in both. He pushed your hair behind your ear as you nuzzled against his leg. Your eyes began fluttering shut, and he gently adjusted your limp body so that you laid down beside him. He pulled your blanket over the two of you and held you flushed to his chest. Your breathing slowed to a steady pace, and he pecked your forehead with his lips.

You deserved a bigger tip the next time he visited. For your generous customer service. He made a mental note and closed his eyes, too tired to care about the rattling of your doorknob across the room.

all content written by @puppyina ! do not repost, edit or plagiarise. requests are open for any past written characters.

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explorevenus · 1 month

Text

doll parts ♡ leon kennedy x f!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 3.6k

description: leon may not take the best care of himself, but he certainly takes care of you. it's his favorite pastime.

tags/warnings: vendetta leon, established relationship, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dollification, daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), mirror sex

a/n: this piece was commissioned by my lovely bestie @dollfacefantasy, who knows me so well in that she knew i was foaming at the mouth for an excuse to write dollification w leon >:3 AND it's based off of that one scene in euphoria where nate dresses cassie up LIKE GET OUTTA TOWNNNNN I WAS SO JUICED TO WRITE THIS !!!!!!!!!!!!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

You were mad. You were so mad, all the time lately, and you were past the point of wondering if you had any right to be.

It was late, nearly half past midnight, the only sound in the dim house being the unrelenting patter of fat raindrops on the windows. Leon, too, was late, like he so often was. Of course, you weren’t allowed to complain or ask questions about his high paying job, or his whereabouts, or the secrecy, where all those injuries came from or why he didn’t return when he said he would for the hundredth time.

All your life, you thought relationships like this existed only in fiction, the trope of the distant workaholic who dismisses his partner’s concerns with nothing but his wallet and his sexual prowess, piling diamond encrusted bandages upon months worth of neglect, bottled up grievances and novels left unsaid. It was a concept confined to old movies and paperbound romances as far as you were concerned, before you met Leon.

You weren’t unreasonable, and you weren’t dumb. You had gathered that his mysterious government job really was important and strictly confidential, and you trusted that he was telling you as much of the truth as was permitted by the powers that be. You knew he cared about you, you knew he would rather be home with you than running around at the beck and call of the most powerful people in the country. You knew it was never his intention to hurt you.

But your awareness of his love for you didn’t make it any easier to swallow the unending cycle of broken promises, nor the visible deterioration of his mental and physical health while his ‘work trips’ became increasingly frequent until they all started to just blend together.

You became numb to it after a while. It seemed selfish to demand his time and attention when he couldn’t help his circumstances. Even bringing it up made you feel like a monster, and it was all because you loved him so completely.

And you loved him so completely. You had seen him cry with laughter and sob with grief. You had seen him burn toast, fall asleep with the TV on, forget how to tie a tie, dread a mundane phone call, mumble to himself when he thought no one was listening. You knew his philosophies on life and love and death, you knew him heart and soul, and so too did he know you.

Thus, you just ate it, wore yourself down until you finally accepted that all those bottled up grievances, novels left unsaid and extravagant bribes were worth the privilege of being his lover.

Your eyes felt dry as you stared at the clock, counting in your tired mind exactly how many hours had passed since he was supposed to be home. It had been a long, rough day that would have been draining enough on its own, but the evening proved to disappoint even further.

Leon heard about the karmic disaster that was your day through a handful of rant texts you’d sent over the course of it, each one more unfortunate than the last. Sympathetic to your senseless string of rotten luck, he promised to cut away from work an hour early to return home to you with your favorite dinner and enough doting on to make your teeth rot. He did not, of course, come home early, and not only that, but he didn’t come home at all, and you couldn’t get ahold of him.

If this wasn’t such a frequent occurrence, you might have been more worried about his safety, or even more angry at him for leaving you hanging on a day like this one, but you had become so familiar with this whole song and dance that your feelings around it were dulled.

You were just about to give up and go to bed when your phone lit up with a notification. Following the several undelivered texts you tried to send asking if he was okay, he’d given a simple response that you knew would redirect the course of your whole entire night.

Headed home in 15. Be in the dollhouse

You had long since garnered that the dollhouse was more for him than it was for you, even if he seemed to believe it was the other way around. It was nice to be pampered and doted on and styled like a Barbie, until it became a way for him to avoid talking to you about anything important. But that was neither here nor there. Dolls don’t talk, and they most certainly don’t complain.

With a deep, measured breath you exited the bedroom and turned down the hall, to what used to be a spare room but was now more aptly describable as a boudoir. The door creaked open to reveal the delicate, feminine space, heavy satin drapes blocking out any potential prying eyes. Between two solid oak wardrobes was an ornate standing mirror, the walk-in closet to the right overflowing with opulent clothing that hardly ever saw the light of day, just the familiar warmth of Leon’s cerulean eyes.

At the other end of the room was an antique, three-mirror vanity, stocked carefully with luxury makeup, designer perfumes and every last tool one might need to style your hair, down to a box of satin ribbons in every color with which to tie it back. Leon was never one to do things half-way, and dolling you up was no exception.

Piece by piece, you stripped yourself of your clothes, hands moving as slowly and purposefully as his own would, as if by instinct. Just like a doll would be, you undressed to nothing but a pair of delicate lace panties, and you took your place at the vanity, your posture straight and your hands folded neatly in your lap.

All there was left to do now was wait for Leon, to stare at yourself blankly in the mirror and ruminate, to let your thoughts scream and echo around in your head until it would all collapse into silence, putting you in the proper headspace of an empty-headed little Barbie for Leon to play with.

You didn’t so much as flinch at the sound of the garage door opening, or move a muscle at all at the muffled thudding of his footsteps ascending the stairs. Your lips parted with a slow, deep breath, your posture straightening up one final time before the knob turned, and you watched the door open behind you through the reflection in the mirror.

He looked tired. To be candid, he looked like shit. It was evident he had left immediately from whatever dangerous, world-saving thing he was doing to rush home to you, not taking the time to change or freshen up.

Leon approached you gently, reaching over your shoulder to let his rough fingers cup your neck and throat, tilting your head up just enough to make you look at yourself, and to adjust your posture.

“Such a precious little doll, sitting so pretty for daddy,” He whispered, stooping down to plant a kiss at the crown of your head. His hands smelled like iron and gunpowder, and his breath smelled faintly of malted liquor poorly masked with mint. If only you could have confronted him about it. You just swallowed, staring straight ahead where he was directing your gaze.

Reaching over your shoulder, Leon’s steady hand plucked a detangling brush from the vanity, running his fingers through your hair carefully with his other hand. He felt through the length of your soft locks, mindful as always not to tug at any of the little knots he discovered here and there. Shortly after, he was running the brush through your hair with gentle veneration, delicate, even strokes that nearly threatened to put you to sleep.

Leon watched your expression in the mirror as your lashes fluttered, your head lolling back as if mindlessly chasing the attention. A low chuckle fell from his parted lips. “Feels good, huh? I’ll bet it does. Your hair is so messy, baby… You weren’t playing by yourself all day while daddy was gone, were you?”

He was teasing you. A subtle grin begged to tug at your lips, and you let it. Still, you were sure to shake your head ‘no’-- after all, you couldn’t have him thinking you had taken advantage of his extended absence to be naughty, even if you had been awfully tempted to.

Carding his fingers through your freshly brushed hair, he hummed in mock consideration for a moment, like he couldn’t decide whether or not he believed you. Finally, he turned you around in your chair to face him, tilting your chin up so he could give you a kiss. “I know my baby would never. Always the perfect princess for me, even when I’m not always the perfect daddy.”

That last part came out a little quieter, like he was ashamed to even say it out loud, but somehow still, it was the loudest part to you. You softened.

He noticed, and he, too, softened. The tension in the air dissipated a bit– it was still somewhere around here, likely waiting right outside the door, but it was no longer actively present, at least. Leon gave you another sweet kiss, this one to your forehead, before gently correcting your posture again.

Pushing your hair back with a soft, fluffy headband, he opened up one of the drawers in the vanity and began to take a few things out. First, a light moisturizer, which he massaged into your skin with a jade roller that was cool to the touch and just as relaxing as always. Your moisturizer was followed by a gentle under-eye balm, a thin layer of primer and a hydrating lip oil.

The way he moved was so fluid, so methodical, like a conductor before an orchestra, and you were his masterpiece. In Leon’s eyes, you might as well have been carved out of the finest, most expensive marble, and you were to be treated no less delicately.

He stepped out just for a moment to wash his hands, a clean slate for the next step of the process, your makeup.

You honestly don’t know how he did it. Judging by some of the techniques and products he would use, you could only guess he must have been doing his research online or something, though where he found the time to do so was another question entirely. His lines weren’t always clean, his blending wasn’t always perfectly smooth, yet somehow you always still felt he’d managed to upstage you with the finished product– perhaps it was because he could see you in a way you couldn’t see yourself.

“Daddy?” You chanced a whisper, but he was quick to press a finger to the plush of your lips, ever so gently.

“Shh… Just sit nice and still for me, alright, sugar?”

You nodded, and he resumed his work with a careful touch.

Soft brushes and plush sponges worked their way around the surface of your face, applying shadow and powders and liner, with Leon holding his breath now and then to ensure a steady hand. Your cheeks were rouged, your lips were glossed, your lashes were carefully curled and it was all topped off with a cooling mist of setting spray and a gentle kiss to the forehead.

“There you are, hm? My beautiful baby dolly,” He mused, reaching forward to tilt your head up by your chin, then to the left, then to the right, checking over his handiwork from every angle. Adding a dash of blush to the tip of your nose, he deemed your makeup complete. “Just perfect.”

Slowly, Leon turned your chair around again, allowing you to look at yourself, and yeah. Wow.

You looked gorgeous, you were glowing even. All of your best features were adorned with purposeful swipes of blush, shade and highlight, your eyes dreamy and sweet, your skin smooth and radiant. He let you look at yourself for a moment, just admiring the expression of awe on you– you were always exceptionally stunning, of course, but you looked all the sweeter in these sacred moments in which you recognized your own beauty.

Leon rested one hand on your shoulder to recapture your attention, his other hand coming forward to stroke your cheek. Your long lashes fluttered as you met his eyes in the mirror, a silent signal that your focus had returned to him. Now the hand that caressed your cheekbone was coming forward to take your own. He helped you up from your seat at the vanity and across the room, to the plush chaise lounge in front of that standing mirror.

The room filled with the quiet noises of rummaging, Leon sifting through drawers and racks of hangers stuffed with what had to have been thousands of dollars worth of designer, a stark contrast to his own attire of largely plain black shirts and jeans that had seen better days.

But you were his princess. Leon was just Leon, and Leon couldn’t possibly deserve as much as a princess.

Turning over his shoulder, Leon approached you with a simple pair of white stockings in hand, sinking to his knees right before the chaise lounge to put them on you. Your ankle looked so slight and delicate in his strong hand as he lifted your leg, drawing a line of kisses up the inside of your calf to follow while he rolled the stocking up higher and higher, until the hem reached just above your knee.

He repeated the action with your other leg, the movement of his hands fluid and practiced, but his breaths were becoming shorter, his kisses a little wetter and needier on your skin. Your own breaths were quickly falling in sync with his own just by watching him dial in on your sex, his calloused hands propping your legs up onto his shoulders so he could shuffle closer.

Gripping you by the hips to angle you up to his liking, he buried his nose into the seat of your thin lace panties and breathed you in deep, as though he were starving for oxygen. The tip of his nose nuzzled forward to brush your panties aside, and just as soon as your slit was bared to him, his tongue was darting out to taste it.

He spread it flat in a slow, languid stripe from your weeping hole all the way to your throbbing clit, his lips closing around the little bundle of nerves to coax it from beneath its hood. You sucked in a breath, your manicured nails printing into the lush material of the furniture you were perched on, trying as hard as you could to keep quiet and still, to allow him to guide you, to play with you as he so desired. Luckily, he wasn’t in too stern of a mood this evening anyway– you weren’t likely to be reprimanded for small errors like that, especially not while he was otherwise occupied.

“Fuck,” He growled lowly into your cunt, leaving white prints where he gripped your pillowy thighs just to ground himself. You could feel his body growing warm as he lost himself in you, lapping up every drop of your arousal with greed. For just a moment, his dilated, denim eyes flicked up to look at you, his rosy cheeks gently squished between your quaking thighs as he puffed out, “Just look at you, my dolly… Daddy’s favorite little toy…”

Your eyes screwed shut with pleasure as his hot mouth met your center again, and when they fluttered open, you caught sight of it all in the mirror. It nearly knocked the wind out of you.

Your dainty legs spread out over your gruff boyfriend’s broad shoulders, adorned in delicate white stockings that looked pure and bright against his tight black t-shirt; his sandy blonde hair damp and messy as he wedged himself between your thighs and drank from you like a fountain; your hair and makeup fit for a gala as your expression contorted with rapture… it could have been an oil painting.

Every swipe of his tongue up the length of you, every flutter along your swollen bud, every deep, wanton, needy groan had your eyes rolling back in your head, your thighs trembling and tightening around his jaw. Every inch of you felt featherlight with electricity as he worked his magic on you, more than capable of making you cum in three minutes flat, but opting not to for the fun of it.

Not that you were complaining. At times he could get carried away in his teasing, but tonight was not one of those nights. Leon wasn’t going to waste your time dangling you over the edge much longer than was strictly necessary. As soon as he noticed you were having trouble sitting still, quiet whines and sighs of pleasure occasionally slipping out from between your glossy lips, he knew it would be unfair to string you along any further.

Leon was practically making out with your folds, the room quiet aside from the slick sounds and lustful whimpers that accompanied his dining of you. Soon it was joined with the low, husky timbre of his voice as he groaned into you, “Gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna make a pretty mess all over daddy’s face?”

In all honesty, you barely registered his words, but all it ever took to get you nodding like a bobblehead was that upward lilt in his tone that indicated he was asking you something. That was all you needed to know that the correct answer was yes.

Smirking briefly to himself as he witnessed your eager and rapt approval, he doubled the intensity of his efforts, his hands wrenching tight into your thighs to pull you flush against his face, but more importantly, to keep you from wriggling away. He didn’t bother to shush you when a shocked yelp bubbled out of you, your body jerking in response to the added stimulation. After all, it was the response he was expecting, and the response he yearned for.

Your shaking hands darted forward to claw at his hair, half-lidded eyes catching your reflection in the mirror once more. Your skin was warm, your breasts heaving as your spine drew into a fine arch and your lips parted to gasp in all the oxygen you could get to your dizzy brain, heels digging into the prominent muscles in his back. He felt every quiver and twitch of your muscles and it only spurred him on. He ate you up like you were his last meal.

Your vision went white as your climax crashed over you hard– the sounds he made were obscene, a satisfied groan vibrating from deep in his chest at the syrupy sweet taste of your arousal. It was an essence he couldn’t possibly get enough of.

As you laid there panting, your legs shaking after the tension in them released, Leon’s eyes dragged up the length of your body with pride. He carefully pulled your panties back into place with a sweet kiss to the bow in the center of them and an affectionate pat to the thigh.

“There’s a good girl,” He hummed, crawling up from between your legs to kiss you, his mouth still warm and slightly slick with your own spend. “A perfect little doll. All I have to do is pull the right strings to get you to sing for me, huh, princess?”

Once more, you nodded, eyes fluttering shut just for a moment as he kissed your forehead. Then, he stood to his full height again, one hand taking yours and the other steadying you by the dip of your waist as he raised you up to join him, wobbly knees be damned. After all, he wasn’t finished playing dress-up yet. He took a moment to ensure you had regained your balance enough to be able to stand without assistance before opening up one of the wardrobes in search of the remainder of your outfit.

Moments like these only piqued your curiosity in terms of how his brain worked. Sure, you’d been dating for a long time and it was safe to say you knew him quite well, but his penchant for compartmentalization never ceased to astound you. He possessed the sometimes frightening ability to just switch his brain from one mode to the next.

You were brought back to reality once more by the feeling of his lips on your neck. He murmured into your ear, “Arms up, darlin’,” and he barely even finished saying it before you were complying.

You lifted your arms, and he slipped a new dress over your head. There it was, the compensation for being home late, for dropping off the face of the Earth again. The dress was flattering and soft, a delicate blush pink color with embroidered details along the bust and white lace hemming. He drew up the zipper without resistance, and as it reached its apex, the fabric hugged your form perfectly, as though the garment itself was made with you in mind.

Leon kneeled down to straighten out your stockings, and then the skirt of your dress, his eyes scanning over you meticulously in search of any little imperfections that might need fixing. Finding none, he wandered over to where he’d left his jacket, fishing a baby blue box out of the pocket. You had become quite familiar with that blue lately– Tiffany.

Nestled in the slender box was a dainty diamond necklace that now rested right at your collarbones, the clasp in the back secured with a smooch. He carded his fingers through your hair one last time before turning you around to look at yourself in the mirror, his hands rested on your hips, head stooped low to smother the crook of your throat in kisses.

“What do you think?” He whispered in your ear, nibbling gently at the shell.

“Beautiful,” You replied just as quietly, “Thank you, daddy.”

#venustext #sintext #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you

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strawberryspence · 2 years

Text

PART 1

Eddie did not know what to do. It was one mistake, made in a dimly lit bar, and he honestly doesn’t even remember the guy’s name. Was it John? Jeremy? Jason? It was one guy, he never even flirts anymore but Steve looked so good that night that it hurt. Hurt so bad he needed someone to temporarily fill that gaping hole in his heart. Because how can Steve Harrington ever want him in any way?

His mother, Cecilia Munson, used to call him sweetheart at the softest times of the day, sunlight dancing through their rooms, just for the two of them. He remembers being nine, young, sharp edged from his father, wondering why anyone would look at him and call him sweetheart, not when he hot wires cars and pick locks. His mother smiles sweetly at him, explaining, “You, Eddie Munson, have the kindest and biggest heart. I call you sweetheart because I love you.”

Of course, Eddie’s in love with Steve. Of course, he calls Steve sweetheart because he loves him. How can anyone not fall in love with him? He calls Steve sweetheart because its true. Steve is a sweetheart. Steve’s sweet with the biggest kindest heart he’s ever seen on anyone. Sure, he wasn’t the best in high school, but he’s proven that he’s better now time and time again.

He gets a visit from Dustin two days after the bar incident, pounding at his door like a hurricane. When he finally opens the door, Dustin’s red faced with anger, “You’re fucking lucky I love you or I would’ve bought Erica Sinclair with me.”

Before he can even ask what’s happening, Dustin’s listing the ways Erica can hide a body, never to be found again. Eddie sighs. The group knows now, of course, they would. News spreads like wild fire with the kids. It’s because of those damn walkies they have (he can’t begrudge them for it when it once aided in saving his ass.)

“How did you find out?”

“Jonathan.”

“Jonathan?!”

Dustin shrugs, “He’s got vendetta against you now. I don’t know dude, they’ve always had a weird friendship. Max thinks they were a throuple at some point, Lucas thinks they’ve got a thing going on just the two of them and Will won’t say anything.”

Jesus Christ, Eddie’s not one for jealousy but there’s something green cruising through his veins right now and he hates it with a burning passion. He needs Dustin to leave so he can scream into a pillow, or maybe sob in the shower.

“Why are you here?”

“I am here to make sure you fix this shit you fucked.”

Eddie looks up at him with surprise as Dustin crossed his arms, eyebrows raised, “Everyone knows Steve’s the biggest sweetheart. He may hide it with his big hair or his sarcasm, but we all know. If you do like him, which you do, you dumb ass. You have to fix this, Eddie. I haven’t seen Steve this upset before and I was there when Nancy dumped him.”

Eddie blanches at the statement, it tears straight to his heart at the fact that he made his sweetheart upset. God, he's an idiot.

The next morning Eddie goes into mission mode with a bouquet of daisies in one hand and a bag of cookies he bought from the bakery on the other as he arrives at the Harrington’s mansion. He’s gonna fix this today, come hell or high water.

Robin answers the door and Eddie’s sure he’s never seen her look more feral and that’s saying a lot when they've fought a magical evil wizard together. Robin’s looking at him like she’ll gauge his eyes out if he makes a wrong move, which he deserves.

Eddie asks for Steve and before he can finish the door is shut to his face. Well, he deserves that too. So he knocks again, ringing the doorbell as annoyingly as he can.

Robin opens again, nostrils flaring, “What do you want Munson? If you’re here to make my best friend cry again, I am asking you to leave now.”

“Robin, I just want to talk to him. I want to apologize. I made a mistake and I want to fix that mistake.”

“Then what? You're gonna go calling him sweetheart again without strings attached?”

“You know that’s not what it is. You know, Robin.”

And she does know. She knows about Eddie’s feelings for her best friend and the fear of not being good enough for Steve. Robin’s afraid no one will ever be good enough for her Steve but before the bar incident, she thought Eddie’s the closest thing to good enough.

For a second, Eddie can see Robin soften, then she shakes her head, “No.” Robin says, her back straightening.

Robin’s about to close the door again when Steve comes into view. A blanket draped over his shoulders, hair messy, glasses askew. If it was any other situation Eddie might’ve swooned at how soft he looks like but he’s eyes are red rimmed from crying and Eddie hates himself even more.

“Let him in, Rob.” Robin stands solid at the doorway, not moving. Steve looks at her wearily, “Robin.” They have another one of their silent conversations, before Robin gives up, “Fine.” She leaves the door open before marching up the stairs to give them privacy.

Eddie hands him the daisies and the cookies, Steve smiling down at it before inviting him into the living room with a small smile.

“I am sorry.” They both blurt out at the same time. Eddie’s not even sure to why Steve’s apologizing. Steve then goes on a tangent about how sorry he is for making the assumption that the name sweetheart is only for him and that it meant something more. It wasn’t Eddie’s fault, it was his and his only. He says it’s okay and he didn’t deserve Eddie in the first place and he wasn’t that special. Every word just crushes Eddie even more. How can Steve think he doesn’t deserve Eddie? Him of all the people?

Eddie can’t do anything but scoop him up in his arms, trying his best to give him the best hug in the world as he apologizes for his mistake. Eddie assures him that he is Eddie’s only sweetheart and Steve didn’t make anything up in his head. Eddie tells him he is in love with him, and Steve tears up but at least there's a big smile on his face.

Then and there, Eddie makes the decision to show Steve the love he deserves, to woo him off his ass. Eddie loves him, through and through, and Steve’s always gonna be his sweetheart and if in 50 years they don’t end up together, Eddie will never call anyone else sweetheart, because that’s for Steve, his nail bat yielding, bad ass, sweetheart.

They don’t kiss. Content with just being in each others arms, knowing their true feelings for each other. (Also because Eddie feels like he needs to earn it) Robin goes down when it gets too quiet, and when she sees them in the couch she smiles sweetly at the image of the two of them tangled together.

She walks up on them, “I am so glad you two made up.” Eddie’s smiling up at her when Robin’s fist hits his nose.

“ROBIN!!!” Steve’s clutching him, he’s pretty sure his nose is bleeding and when Eddie looks up, Robin’s holding her fist like it hurt her to punch, but she’s grinning the biggest grin Eddie’s ever seen on her face.

“Again, I am glad you two made up. I love you both very much. But if I you make him cry again, that’s not the only thing I am breaking.” Robin smiles before kissing their heads and heading to the kitchen to get him an ice pack.

They look at each other before promptly bursting into laughter as Steve tries to wipe his bleeding nose with his own hand.

Eddie does woo Steve. On the third date Eddie planned for them, Steve finally kisses him. They’re in his car and Eddie’s rambling about his new campaign and how the kids loved it. Steve kisses him mid-way the conversation. The kiss itself, Eddie thinks, is just as sweet as Steve. Steve holds him like he’s the best thing in this universe and like it’s a privilege to be kissing him, rather than the other way around.

Eddie does not stop wooing Steve. He picks him flowers in random fields, takes him on dates, makes him dinner, leaves tiny notes on his bathroom mirror, (he also woos him amazingly in bed), packs him lunches, makes him mixtapes, burns CDs, and, three decades later, playlists.

They’re 40, Steve found his first grey hair yesterday and Eddie’s knees hurt more often that it should. But Eddie still calls Steve sweetheart. Their kids cringe at their parents and their vintage pet name for each other, but their smiles don’t hide the fact that they adore their parents love.

Steve knows he’s special, because Eddie Munson calls him sweetheart for the rest of their lives.

Eddie knows he deserves this life, this love, because Steve Harrington loves him.

#MY BABIES #BOTH IDIOTS BUT I LOVE THEM #daeheadcanons #steddie #steddie rants #steddie headcanon #steddie fic rec #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic

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jojissalsa · 26 days

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uncle leon being icky... (need him so bad)

tw: dead dove, incest (uncle-niece), slight dubcon, size difference, dumbification, mentions of alcoholism, descriptions of porn, leon being gross to bimbo reader (fem reader) MDNI, 18+ under cut (not proofread SORRY!)

a/n: i cannot stop thinking of vendetta leon finding that one pornstar that looks like him…. i just know he'd watch all his vids religiously cause he wants to be a skeevy little shit. love that sleaze ball so much <3

you knew you weren't the sharpest tool in the box, it was just in your nature. never stressed about having to lift your pretty, manicured hands, because your parents did all that for you. sure, they were never around and that probably left a lot of emotional scars, but who cares about that when you get to wear designer?

you always thought it was a bit weird that your parents had your uncle looking after you even now that you were an adult. probably because you always had that habit of sneaking alcohol when they weren't looking, especially when you also sneaked your friends over. but isn't it ironic to have an obvious alcoholic to look after another? if only you knew what either of those words meant, thinking too much makes you bored. you shrug it off as you watch your parents let leon in so they can go on another date night. it's always hard to be happy for them when they make time for themselves but never make any time for you. who cares when leon's around though? he makes time for you, even if it's brief. he gives you a quick hug, saying he's gonna be spending the night. you can feel the flask in the pocket of his leather jacket, but you don't say anything. yet, at least.

your plans were to get to him when he was already tipsy, praying he didn't drink it all yet when you managed to catch him when he's off guard. you wait until he thinks he's alone, sitting on the couch with his laptop in front of him, headphones in. you assumed he was watching some kind of movie, so you hop over the back of the couch and sit next to him. "hey leon, whatcha doin'?" you grin as he shuts his laptop instantly, looking at you with a startled look. you weren't that dumb, he probably was watching some chick flic and didn't want you to tease him about it. "nothing, what do you want?" you pout at his dismissive tone, you'd think he'd be a little happier to be giving you attention. "what makes you think i want something? i just wanna spend time with my favorite uncle!" you move to cuddle up at his side, watching as he grabs a throw pillow and moves it onto his lap. weird, he must be cold. "really? you sure it's not to get a drink out of me?" the way he saw right through you made your face heat up, looking around as if to figure out some kind of excuse. "what?? no.. what were you watching?" your tone was a lot less confident and bubbly, sheepish as you looked up at him. "nothing a girl like you should watch, that's for sure." he scoots his laptop away but you press up against him to try and stop him. "c'monnn, it can't be that bad, right? just let me see!" you tug at his laptop to keep it near you two, seeing him start to smile from your curiosity. "you sure, sweetheart? you might think your uncle is weird." he pinches your cheek as if you're some dumb kid, blushing under his hand. "i won't judge, promise."

in hind sight, you probably should've known. if you had a brain, that is. you sit up when he finally lifts up his laptop screen, your eyes widening when it reveals a porn video. one of those studio ones, but it wasn't the fact that it was porn. the guy looked like leon. like, a lot like him. you chastise yourself when you shiver at the thought, but is it really that bad? anyone can say their uncle is handsome, but seeing this guy was different. he was so much bigger than the girl in the video. and so strong too? never seen a guy hold someone up like that for so long.. "hey, you still here?" you must've been close to drooling, because you've been staring at the video since he opened his laptop. "huh? yeah, yeah." you wave him off to continue watching, because you've never seen anything like this before. sure, you've watched porn before, but this was different. it felt different, it looked dirty. the way his hands were bigger than half her body, all the things he was saying, it made your chest feel heavy and your panties feel damp. you barely noticed the throw pillow suddenly gone from leon's lap, his hand moving down your back, his fingers dangerously close to slipping under your shorts. "are girls really that small? or are guys just that big?" your question was genuine, you never paid attention to the difference like that. maybe now you'd think about it a bit more than most things. "mmm, dunno, you wanna find out?" his voice sounded just as husky as the guy in the video, and it nearly made you moan, unable to part your lips to say yes. so you just nod, your heavy breathes coming out in short little puffs from your nose.

you thought he was just gonna grab your hand and show you the size difference like the guy in the video, instead he moves his laptop to the coffee table, leaving you in front of him with your legs spread. you watch as his hand smooths over the back of your thigh before stilling right next to your clothed pussy, making you twitch at how close his hand was. "look at that, such a cute little cunt." he groans and you let out the most pathetic squeak that makes you cringe internally. "aww, you like that, huh? you wanna know if my fingers can fit in that tiny pussy?" you shake like a leaf in the wind at his voice, feeling the pulse in your cunt get just as fast as your heartbeat. "mhm.." you feel so meek, being this vulnerable, and in front of your uncle of all people. it was fast, leon was already peeling your clothes off before you even let the sound out. the relief washing over you from being freed of your panties short lived as his fingers swiped over your clit, slick sticking to his palm. "hold your legs up, baby." your nails nearly dig into the back of your knees as you hold up your legs, the sudden intrusion of his finger making you tense.

your mind could barely cling onto one thought for too long, drifting from one to the next. god, his finger is so thick. so long, too. i can't even reach that far, can i? he laughs like he can hear what you're thinking, digging his finger even deeper, making you gasp as your back arches. "not used to a finger reaching that far, huh, sweetheart? think you can fit my cock in here?" the way he talks is making you squirm, needing him to hold you down as he slips another finger in. "i wanna try, can i, uncle leon? show me, please." you clearly hit a nerve, his touch feeling even more needy just from your words alone. you whine as his fingers leave your hole so he can work on getting his cock out of his jeans, still holding your legs up. your eyes glaze over as he holds his cock over your tummy, his pre-cum leaking onto your skin. "look at that," he takes your jaw in his hand, making you look at how big he is compared to you, the tip of his cock barely an inch away from your belly button. "so fucking wet and i barely touched you. that video really turned you on that much?" your body tenses again as he holds his dick in place to hump against your clit, feeling the knot in your core get tighter and tighter.

you were so focused on the pleasure you were feeling you didn't realize he wanted you to answer him. his grip on your jaw got tighter, pushing your cheeks together to pucker your lips. "too dumb of a whore you can't answer? i haven't even stuck my dick in you yet and you're leaking like a faucet," your body practically convulses at his dirty talk, drool threatening to leave your shut lips. "do you even care that i'm your uncle? or are you just a slut for anyone with a cock?" you try to tilt your head back from ecstasy, failing miserably from his grip staying tight, whining from all the teasing. "'s not true, you're being mean.." your words are muffled, slurred from how cockdrunk you are. "aww, i'm being mean? what, am i teasing you too much, sweetheart?" you're on the verge of screaming at him to hurry it up before you lose it, the shame of doing this with your uncle long gone. not like it was there to begin with, you doubt you even grasp the meaning of shame. not because you're a whore, of course not. you're just a dumbass.

he can tell your whimpering is desperate enough to consider as begging, finally sheathing his cock inside you, groaning into the crook of your neck as he bottoms out. you've never felt this full in your life, you can't tell if the stretch is painful because he's big or because you haven't gotten laid in a while. meanwhile he's a little disappointed you're not a virgin, but you might as well be with how tight your walls are hugging him. he might as well be the virgin, trying his hardest not to come when your walls try to suck him in as he pulls out. "fuck, so goddamn tight, surprised i even fit." you gasp when he thrusts in deeper, hitting your sweet spot. he leans up to get a full view of you, his gaze trailing down to where he sits snug in your pussy, chuckling meanly at the bulge he sees under your tummy. "see?" he makes sure your eyes are looking where he is too, picking up his pace when he sees you lock in on it. "look at how much dick you're taking, so proud of you, sweetie." the condescending lilt in his voice sends you spiraling, tightening on him as your head hangs low on the couch cushion. that was all he needed to go even faster, watching your tits bounce as he pounded you into the couch. he wasn't just rearranging your guts, he was fucking your brain out of your head, watching as you drooled onto the plush surface your pretty, empty head laid on.

he could feel you getting closer, and he knew he wasn't gonna last much longer either with how tight you were. "you wanna make uncle leon really proud, hun?" you nodded feverishly, dying at the opportunity to please him. you feel his hand move from gripping your tit to thumbing your clit, rubbing harsh, slow circles. "cum for uncle leon, sweetheart, gonna make him real happy when you do." it was in an instant, feeling your toes curl as your vision goes white, only able to scream his name over and over as your nails nearly pierced the skin under your knees. "good girl, you needed that, huh? don't worry, you'll get a nice, fat load too." your ears were still ringing, so you only registered he was cumming inside you before it was too late. you were too delirious to care about the moral implications, enjoying the warm feeling of his cum spilling from your pussy. "tiny little cunt can't even hold my cum." you hear him breathe out before he pushes it back in with his fingers, laughing at your sensitive squirming.

he lets you sleep it all off, making sure to wake up before you so your parents don't catch you two sleeping in the same bed. why sleep in the guest room when you just fucked your niece? you sit on the steps as you watch him say his goodbyes to your parents, shooting you a mean smile before he leaves. you're the first to know how gross he is, but you're praying to the few gods you remember that his smile meant he was willing to do that again. you know you shouldn't crave the way he treated you, how dirty he is. but you can at least be safe knowing you have that video to keep you over until next time.

#dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #dark fic #dark content #smut #one shot #drabble #leon kennedy oneshot #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil smut #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy

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yourgentlegirlfriend · 1 year

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Saw your post about writing, I love older Leon with a younger more naive reader, could you maybe do something along those lines? 👉👈

YES! I’m so glad somebody requested more older Leon, im in love with writing it. I whipped something up as fast as i could but i ended it on a little teaseeee if you guys REALLY like it i’ll finish it!!:))

DISCLAIMER!! this is 18+ ONLY, please do not interact with my blog if you are underaged or don’t have age indicator in your bio!! thank you!!

f!reader x much older Vendetta/ID Leon. Mentions of size difference, slight angst if you squint literally, VERY little smut but it is there. mentions of choking, biting lip. use of pet names (sweetheart, angel, etc.) BIKER LEON HELLO. Leon is obsessed with you, and you’re dumb.

Word count: 1.4k it’s small

Leon always says you were his saving grace. The two of you met during a time in his life where he really needed you. You were bubbly, happy, much younger but he pushed that aside. The only reason you guys met was because you went to go get your brothers bike fixed for him, standing waiting before the mechanic had told you a list of reasons as to why it would cost you almost ten thousand dollars in repairs. You knew enough about cars but nothing about motorcycles, your jaw dropped staring at the man in front of you as you shook your head.

“The tire went out? That was it-“

You cut yourself off, pulling out your check book with a frustrated sigh, before you can even sign on the line a man stepped next to you, squinting at the numbers on the paper then to the mechanic in front of the both of you.

“This what this business is about? Lying to women for no reason?”

The man grabbed the check book scoffing at the astonishing price you were about to pay, the mechanic stuttered over his words before the man once again cut him off.

“Just bring the bike back up front”

You stared at the man in awe. You knew that you were being scammed but you are the one who fucked up the bike so as long as it was fixed you didn’t care. He handed you back your check book and nodded his head towards the workers bringing the bike back up front.

“I’ll fix it for you, no cost too. Well, unless you let me take you to dinner.”

His smile was gorgeous. He was gorgeous. You felt red spread across your face as you nodded, shoving your check book back in your purse as the two of you walked out the front door.

Leon Kennedy was his name, he told you while he propped the bike up, leaning down before swatting his hand signaling you to stand over him and watch him. And he taught you more than you knew, maybe more than you needed to know. You couldn’t help but smile as he stood up, wiping his hands on his pants before looking at you.

“All done.”

And before he could even speak again you pulled your wallet out, grabbing at the cash you had stored. Leon let out a chuckle as he covered your hand with his, shaking his head.

——————

Leon was adamant about taking you to dinner, at least twice a week. Since the two of you met he would pick you up every Monday and Friday, and take you these outrageously fancy and expensive restaurants. Leon stopped his bike, stepping off before grabbing your hand to help you keep your balance as you swung your leg over. The two of you began your walk up the stairs as you rambled on about the girls at your work and how one of them was stealing produce, your words interrupted by Leon’s hand gripping the back of your skirt, pulling it down slightly so it would cover you up more because apparently your skirt rode up on the ride here. Did he just do that? A part of you wanted to yell at him, but physically, your throat went dry and your thighs squeezed together. There was no label on you two, you weren’t girlfriend and boyfriend, but you did spend to much time together. You bit at your cheek as Leon checked you in for your reservations, turning back to you as the waiter walked the two of you to your table. Your hand reached out for the chair but Leon- as smooth as ever he was- brushed beside you, pulling out your chair. You sighed softly, looking up at the man with a smile as you sat down, your ankles crossing over each other. The air was thick between you two but it had been for about the past week. Leon always ordered for you two, mainly because he knew what he was doing. The two of you sat silent as you stared at the menu before you placed yours down, staring at Leon with your eyebrows slightly frowned. He was scanning the menu, his attention not on you of course. He had to have felt the gaze because his eyes flicked up to meet yours, causing him to place down the menu.

“What’s up sweetheart, you seem bothered.”

Bothered was an understatement. Your eyes rolled as before you stared at your glass of water.

“Is it our age gap? Or what? I mean jesus Leon i’m sitting here wondering why I’m not good enough for you..”

Instead of comforting you, Leon let out a chuckle, taking a sip from the wine in his glass. Leon shrugged as he leaned back against the chair with a smug smile on his face.

“Angel, if i didn’t value you and want you to be mine why would i spend almost a thousand a week just to see that pretty smile?”

——————

“He’s what?”

Damien, your brother yelled as you and Leon sat at the table with him, Leon’s hand gripping at your thigh under the table at your brothers outburst. You knew he would react this way when finding out about yours and Leon’s very much prominent age gap of 9 (and a half) years.

“Leon takes care of me Dami.. you don’t have to be mad-“

Damien interrupted you, ranting on about how disappointed mom and dad would be with how you decided to play out your life. Leon lifting you from your seat and basically dragging you out the door made the anger building in your stomach stop.

“We are leaving.”

Leons voice was stern as the two of you walked down the steps of your brothers porch, Damien following behind, arms crossed as he watched Leon carefully place the helmet on your head before he swung his leg over his bike, you following him like a stray puppy, laying the side of your covered head on his back as you watched your brother look at you in disgust.

Leon was silent, but the way he sped down the street told you everything you needed to know. When the two of you finally arrived back at the house, even in his anger he still held the door open for you, when you stepped in he slammed it. sighing as he pulled his jacket off.

“Leon, Im so sorry.”

Leon shook his head watching you play with your fingers, a groan leaving his lips as you folded his jacket for him.

“You are just so..”

Leon grumbled as he grabbed your hips, squeezing them in his much larger hands. You frowned up at him, your hands slowly rubbing up his chest and past his shoulders.

“I love you, it’s not fair.”

Leon nodded down at you, pecking your nose softly before one of his hands left your hip to gently grab at your chin, he took in a deep inhale, he loved the way you smelled. With your strawberry lipgloss and vanilla lotion, he was obsessed with you. The way you would do anything for him, you were his and you knew that too. His lips pressed into yours, his hand that was at your hip sliding to hold your back pulling you closer into him.

Your hands went to pull away from him but he was much stronger, tilting his head into yours causing a soft whimper to fall from your lips as his teeth nipped at your now puffy bottom lip. He pulled back, smirking at the sight of you with your hooded eyes, looking at him like he was the only person in the world. You went to whine something to him but he shushed you immediately, dragging you over to the couch.

“Just don’t talk.”

He mumbled as he sat himself down on his sofa, pulling you between his legs. He admired your outfits more than you knew, the way you always wear cute little skirts for him, or when you guys go out to dinner and you wear that red dress that he fucking adores. Everything hugs your body so perfectly. Your fingertips grazed over his shoulder, your body pushing forward with a gasp as Leon yanked your skirt down your legs, a hum leaving his throat as he gripped at your thighs.

“Leon be careful clothes are expensive!”

You whined with a giggle as Leon dragged you down to the couch, this made you realize just how much stronger and bigger Leon really was, the shyness washing over you as he hovered over you, his hand grabbing at your throat gently, he didn’t want to hurt you (yet).

“I told you not to talk, you act like I don’t buy you all those skimpy little skirts anyways..”

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #older leon kennedy #older leon plz #vendetta leon #Infinite darkness leon #thank you anon #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil x reader

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reindeerswillsavethisworld · 11 months

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I think Danny Phantom fandom is absolutely sleeping on the sheer dumb bulshittery Danny, Sam and Tucker generate on the regular and it’s a fucking shame. Like, the three of them have exactly one (1) single braincell between them, and the only one to use it at least semi-regularly is Jazz. You literally can’t leave them for five minutes without them stumbling into some new bullshit every single time. Granted, a lot of times bullshit finds them first instead of the other way around, but by god will they make the situation worse. They run into the situations with the same reckless abandon the cockchafers fly into any solid obstacle in their way, and you’d think that at least one of them will be the voice of reason, and you’d be dead wrong.

Danny? He thought pranking a murder happy millionaire with a vindictive streak the size of Grand Canyon was a great idea. And then, like a moron, he decided to use equally murder happy government agency with a huge prejudice against ghosts and a vendetta against him, personally. Absolutely nothing that could go wrong with that, obviously!

(spoiler alert, things did go very wrong very fast)

Tucker? A valid choice at the first glance, except he is always down to commit crimes for either his friends or just for funsies. Remember that time he ran an obviously illegal babysitting scam business? Or that time when he brainwashed and then dimensionally displaced the whole school into Ancient Egypt setting? Another notable instances of Tucker being a menace, in no particular order: organised o pro-meat protest in a few hours, tried to shoot a ghost with his phone as a projectile (and succeeded), sold Sam out to a ghost out of sheer pettiness, gave Skulker an alarm-induced ptsd, almost killed Danny that one time (don’t worry, Danny was fine) and in general committed to being bullshit-enabling gremlin.

Now Sam would seem the most grounded and reasonable out of three of them, but it is what SHE wants you to believe. She is just as, if not more, unhinged as the boys, she just hides it better. Remember that time she trashed the castle and antagonised a few dozen of armed guards, while having no back up, no weapons, no allies and while being in some shithole in the Ghost Zone? And then basically told a tyrannical asshole with op dragon powers “fuck you and your entire kingdom” in the face? And then rode another dragon who put said asshole through a wall? Good times.

They all seem like perfectly reasonable people at the first glance, and then Tucker and Danny would dare each other to lick that weird glowing green rock, and Sam would roll her eyes and groan about how stupid boys are, and then Tucker would dare her to lick that glowing rock too, and Danny will say, “Come on, Tuck, it’s okay if she’s too afraid to do it-”, and yes, Sam and her mother have many disagreements on a lot of things, but both her mother AND Granny did not raise a fucking bitch, move over, Tucker, or so help her the spirit of Pandora-

They all end up absolutely miserable in ecto-containment units sick as hell with ecto-flu and on all questions answer that no, they don’t know how this happened, maybe it was ghost attack last week, they did get blasted by that green goo, after all, but really, they have absolutely no idea, honest. Jazz suspects something, but she also has no proof and therefore can’t prove anything. In the end, it was one of the worst weeks in their life and they all ended up swearing to not do it ever again.

(they do end up doing it again two months later)

#phandom is SLEEPING on the sheer comedic potential of those three committing crimes together I swear to god!!!!#like I do understand that this fandom loves it’s angst and all #and sam danny & tucker in the same scene together will more often than not end up in stand up comedy instead of angst #but god #GOD DO I WISH THERE WAS MORE OF THOSE THREE BEING DUMBASSES TOGETHER #like imagine them doing idk a heist together or smth #the panic the destruction the potential for reality defying bullshit #the ABSOLUTELY committed eco-terrorism off screen I know I was there #Sam was there bcs of obvious reasons and ended up organising an uprising #tucker was there bcs he’s always ready to commit crimes and stick it to the government #danny was there as moral support only and ended up on wanted lists of at least 7 countries #sam manson #tucker foley #danny fenton #danny phantom

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hexbees · 4 months

Text

Draco notices you

pairing:: oblivious!nice!draco x slytherin!reader

summary:: you had shared potions with draco since first year but he doesnt notice you until sixth word count:: 731 a/n:: no voldemort so no oncoming war! dracos just a dumb dumb and oblivious. no use of y/n!

Stress burrowed its way into your brows as you stepped into Slughorns NEWT potions class. You scored an O on your OWLs and only feared the amount of work you'll have to put into the next exams. Ranking high in your year has always been important, not only to you but your parents as well. The thought alone is enough to settle a hunch on your shoulders.

You at least felt good about being able to pick the table directly in the middle row, as not all the students had arrived yet. Slughorn was drowning on his greetings from his podium as the room filled. By the time your advanced potions book was situated perfectly center in front of you most spots had been taken besides the one left empty at your table.

When you felt the stool move back as the professor started his introduction it didn't even interest you to see who you’d be stuck with. It had never mattered in the past, you'd even lucked out with lab partners, most people adjoining themselves to their friends. It wasn't until Slughorn finished his speech that you'd taken the time to check what other sixth years had made it into the course. Only a few you could place names on; Harry potter (of course) and his red-haired friend. While most Slytherins had a vendetta against the young wizard he’d only ever been kind to you, so you sent him a smile that he returned with an awkward wave.

“Are you friends with Potter?” The voice came from your side, held a curious tone and sent pinpricks across your skin.

“No, actually. Just being kind.” You didn't take the time to look, you barely recognized the voice and it's not like you had real friends. Especially none that would be in this class with you.

“You're a Slytherin?”

That caught your attention. Six years at Hogwarts and it still surprised people that you could be naturally nice, it was almost aggravating. While most Slytherins dove straight into the stereotypes and embraced them, you never found the time. It took effort to be rude and even more effort to be a typical Slytherin bully.

“Mm” You hummed, finally turning to face the person. “As are you, Malfoy.”

His head tilted the slightest and his lips tugged loosely at the ends. He thought it was cute you’d still be kind while also being a little condescending.

“Are you new?” His pale eyebrows furrowed a little. He genuinely has never seen you before, at least he didn't think he had.

“Nope.” You let it fall from your mouth in the same tone as before, “I sat behind you in potions the last five years, actually.” It wasn't unusual for most students to be unaware of your presence. You'd flown under the radar most years, avoiding drama and parties. You'd spent time studying and reading for fun more than you did conversing amongst everyone else.

His brows only furrowed deeper, “Surely I'd remember that.” You could practically hear the gears screeching as they spun in his head, “Wait,” he snapped his fingers and smiled. If you looked close enough you could see the small dimple that adorned his cheek cutely. “You beat out Granger for, like, every potion assignment. Snape loved you.”

His statement brought your mood up just a bit as you smiled at him, bringing your hands together in your lap.

“Good to know my intelligence precedes me.”

His smile never faltered as he chuckled. “I can't believe we’ve never interacted before” His hair fell to the sides as he shook his head, almost in disbelief.

Slughorn gained attention of the class again and before you knew it you had your first homework assignment at the top of your mental list while packing up your bag.

Draco tapped two fingers on the table in front of you, smiling when you looked up at him with a hum.

“I’ll see you at lunch?” He questioned, “I sit at the end closest to the professors table.” He made it sound like an invitation and you nodded your head quicker than you'd ever admit. His smile only grew at your response as he nodded back.

As you rose to your feet and followed the last of the students through the threshold of the class you couldn't help the giddy smile breaking out across your face.

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sicbaby · 6 months

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sended this to another acc i really like but ill send this here too :p

vendetta!leon with the biggest corruption kink ever and the girl (reader) that lives in the house just next to his, that always make sure to wish him to "have a good day" when she sees him and gets all red when he says it back, that when she bakes something she always make sure to save some to give it to him, and she tries to have a "friendship" with him so bad but he always seems to ignore her

and he does tries to ignore her because he knows he is def not a good man, he knows it so he always try to show to her that he is not a person, but shes just too stupid to realize that to the point that it makes him a little annoyed and worried for her, it still makes him hard lol

i love vendetta leon cause let’s be real he’s the biggest piece of shit alive and he’s an alcoholic so added bonus! i fantasize about him treating me like shit… anyways.

i imagine reader being a bit of a bimbo of some sort. like so dumb in the brain that there’s absolutely no room for sad or depressing or actual real thoughts that would ruin her day. and leon’s the exact opposite. all he thinks about is sad, fucked up shit that would probably make you vomit on the spot. but he likes that about you, your innocence. it makes him a bit sick, realizing he wants to do nothing but take advantage of you and expose you to the dark thoughts he has.

he can’t deny you’re sexy. those short skirts and low cut tops that have your breasts practically spilling out when you wave good morning to him. the crush you have on him is so painfully obvious. leon isn’t used to that. are you his type? not exactly. but he thinks he could have some fun with you.

he doesn’t start getting annoyed until you start leaving shit on his porch. cute notes, food items, weird love letters that look like a middle schooler made them with cute stickers and heart doodles all over. he’s a grown ass adult for christ sake. he rips up the letters, leaves the remnants on the porch for you to see.

you do see it, makes your heart wrench. yet you keep trying. you really, really like him.

in one last attempt at trying to get his full attention, you take over some food to his house, not just leaving it on the porch this time.

leon answers the door with a scowl on his face. he sees the food and your hopeful smile. “come in.” he grumbles, no greeting necessary. it ticks him a bit that you genuinely think you could win him over this way. your heart flutters as you walk in, taking in his messy house, setting the food down on the counter.

“you know, sweetheart. i’m not an easy man to please. yet, here you are…” he trails off.

you’re so nervous, face burning and throat so dry you feel like throwing up. “i-i just.. wanted to be a good neighbor, you know?”

“bullshit.” he responds quickly, makes you flinch slightly. he couldn’t help himself.

“a good neighbor,” he repeats, a dark chuckle following it. “is that really what you think? you think leaving me food and love letters makes you some kind of saint? don’t kid yourself, sweetheart. this isn’t about being a good neighbor. it’s about you wanting something from me. something you can’t seem to get through that empty, pretty little head of yours.”

he enjoys watching your facial expressions. your smile faltering, face turning into uncertainty. he knows he has the power to turn you into anything he wanted. it was too easy. he called you pretty, though!

“you think i’m some prize, some object to be won, don’t you?” he continues. you’re stunned, mouth open slightly, wanting to interject but nothing comes out.

“relax,” he chuckles. “i’ll let you have me. but i want something from you, first.” he says, inching closer to you, trapping you against the counter. his words were not a promise, merely a trick to get you to give yourself up to him. but he probably didn’t even have to “trick you.” one word and you’d be on his knees for him, wouldn’t you?

you nod eagerly, just as predicted. god, it makes him laugh, it makes him hard. how’d he get so lucky? you didn’t even put up a fight. “anything. i’ll do anything.”

those words triggered something in his brain. and you had absolutely no idea what he was going to do to you. he grabs you by the wrist roughly, leading you to his dark bedroom, throwing you on the bed. he starts degrading you, calling you “slut” and commands you to address him as “sir,” or maybe even “master.” (he’s a sick fuck let’s be real, wants you to be his dumb little pet.)

he could see the flicker of uncertainty in your eyes, but you both know you had already given yourself up to him. but that didn’t really matter to him anyway.

he crawls over you, pinning your arms up above your head, kissing at your neck. you could smell the alcohol on his breath as he did so. it made your stomach churn but made your panties wet.

he continues to practically rip your clothes off, muttering things along the lines of “you’re mine now,” “such a pretty little slut,” etc,. every single movement he makes is rough. including spanking, choking, unleashing all his pent up anger, his darkest desires onto you. your pleasure comes second to his.

you’re completely at his mercy, almost like a toy to him. but you like him so much, so you let him :(. you just wanna be his dumb girl.

he ends up fucking you in every single position until you’re a drooling, senseless mess.

not only were you his dumb girl, but you were his slut, his toy, his possession. and in the end, that’s all that mattered to you. at least now, you were finally his.

#sorry if u wanted something cute #romance? never heard of her #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil smut #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy smut

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berry-club · 4 months

Text

- Hot & cold -

Minors dni

Contains: afab reader x wonbin, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, 1.5k words

You've found a job as a barista in a coffee shop inside a prestigious hotel. It was a renowned hotel so of course working here wouldn't be easy but the pay made up for it. On your first day, you were so happy to see that you had a colleague your age, but you quickly realised he was gonna be your nightmare. Everytime you made a mistake he was basically telling you how dumb you were, and how you should just quit if you were just gonna mess up everything. He had the face of an angel, so it was no surprise clients loved him, especially women, and he knew that well. He always used his charm on the clients to make sure they buy more than they should, but despise that, Wonbin was very diligent about his work. Always working seriously, making every cup of coffee with the most care. After a week, you became much better at your job, but you still made some mistakes and you still had a lot to learn. This time, a client ordered an intricate latte art, one that you still struggled with, but you decided to do your best anyway. You prepare everything and before you start pouring the cream, the client speaks to you.

"You're really pretty you know, which time do you get off work?"

"Sorry it's against the hotel policy to keep contacts with customers."

That was obviously a lie but you needed to be the nicest possible to the clients.

"They don't need to know honey."

Obviously the middle aged man wouldn't get a clue. You try to think of something to say while you stare at the cup of coffe that you desperately want to throw at him, when you hear a set of footsteps behind you. Wonbin gently pushes you to the side and smiles at the client.

"Excuse me mister, I heard your order and I must say, my colleague just started working here and can't do that order yet, let me do it for you."

The client agrees and Wonbin starts skillfully making the latte art. Sure you hated how he scolded you, but something about the way he made the coffe, in his white buttoned shirt and black apron was mesmerizing. Even the client was in awe, Wonbin puts the cup in front of the man while tilting his head showing you to get away from his sight while he's distracted. You go in the kitchen to wait for a bit, after some times Wonbin comes back to you.

"He left, now get back to work."

Of course, Wonbin was still the same as usual.

"Yes, thank you."

After some time passes, you ended up being really good at your job, Wonbin had no more reasons to yell at you, but somehow he always had something bad to tell you. Even with that terrible personality, you've often found yourself looking at him, sometimes even making awkward eye contacts. Most of the times when you looked at him, you saw him flirting with the clients in full prince charming mode. This time when he came back to the bar after flirting, you wanted to get back at him for all the hard time he puts you through.

"I wonder what those women would say if they knew you were a jerk." His eyesbrows frowned and he looked visibly pissed.

"If you have time talking it means you don't do your job correctly."

You let out a chuckle seeing him so annoyed by your comment, later the boss came to ask you two stay late to close the shop which you both agreed on. When everyone left you decided to eat in the kitchen before leaving, to your surprise, wonbin said he would cook.

"Are you gonna do a vendetta on me for calling you a jerk and poison my food?"

"Trust me if I wanted to kill you, you would already be dead."

"I don't know if that's a good thing or not."

He smirks as he takes all the ingredients and starts chopping some vegetables. You sit at the counter behind him and watch his back, his long hair was falling gracefully on his shoulders, his apron was hugging his waist, making his shoulders look even larger. The back of his apron was open making you see his perfect ass in his tight pants, it's a sight you couldn't get sick of even if you tried. You could probably watch him cook for hours, every one of his mouvements was perfect and full of convidence. You could definitely see why so many costumers were head over heels for him. While you're lost in thoughts, you hear the clink of his knife being put down and you see him turn around, closing the distance between you and leaning over you until his face is just a few centimeters away from yours.

"I can feel your gaze, why do you stare so much for?"

"N-nothing." Your voice came out way higher then you wanted it to be, but seeing his plump pink lips from so close was making your head spin, thinking about how good they must feel on yours.

"I wanted to keep you for dessert but, oh well."

Wonbin grabs your head, exposing your neck before kissing it.

"What are you doing!?"

"Come on, you've been looking at me everyday like I'm a piece of meat."

Ugh, busted, Wonbin grabs you with ease and puts your ass on the iron counter.

"Eeeek! it's cold."

"Trust me, you won't be cold for too long."

Wonbin puts his tongue in your mouth without even a warning, things went so fast, your mind goes blank. His actions are so rough you don't have time to anticipate anything, but somehow you liked that. As he told you before, your body was already boiling hot and you already didn't felt the cold of the counter anymore. He rolls his tongue deep in your mouth, not even giving you time to breath. You feel his hands all over you, your breast, your waist, your thigh before you feel him lifting your skirt and sliding his hand in your panty,

"You're already soaked."

"Shut up" you try your best to sound mean, but your voice just sounds pleading.

You put your hands around his neck as he slides a finger in while putting his thumb on your clit. You always wondered if he was skillful in bed just as much as he was in the kitchen, and now you got your answer. The man you despised for yelling at you was making you fold under his touch like it was nothing. Wonbin looks at you as he slides a second finger in, you close your eyes and he starts going back and forth, when you suddenly feel a sharp pain in your neck.

"OUCH! Don't bite me!"

"It's your fault for looking so apetizing."

Maybe you would be more mad at him if he didn't look this good right now. The kitchen lights would make anyone look bad but somehow, he could still pull that off. He keeps moving his fingers in and out, sometimes bending them, making all sorts of sloppy noises while he watches your face blush, as you try so hard to hold back your voice. He looks at you like an hungry beast, the prince charming was long gone, but you liked this wonbin more anyway. He slows down the pace and you take this opportunity to put your hands on his back, untying the knot of his apron before unzipping his pants. He suddenly grabs your shoulders and turns you around, making you lie on your stomack before you could even take a look at his cock. In the blink of an eye you feel the cold air on your ass, realising your skirt was now resting on your ankles. His hands were grabbing your waist firmly, his hard dick was playfully running over your pussy and slapping your ass cheeks, he clearly knew how to make you eager for him.

"Do it already."

"I can't understand what you want if you don't tell me clearly."

You could hear his cocky smile in his voice.

"Put it in."

"Good enough."

His whole dick slides right in with ease like you were made for him. He thrusts inside you quickly making it now impossible to even think about holding back your voice. Your whole body slides back and forth over the counter. He grabs your arms and pulls them making you arch your back as he keeps thrusting deep inside you. Your vision gets blurry and your back pushes against his body, he drops your arms to cup your breast in his hands. He wished he could just rip out your shirt to touch them bare, but you would have trouble explaining to your boss what happened to your uniform. You weren't the type to be loud in bed, and yet wonbin has you screaming his name and beg for him. You grab the side of the counter as he keeps pounding hard making you gasp for air while he doesn't even break a sweat. His body presses harder against your back and you feel his dick throbbing against your clenching walls. You hear his groans until you feel his hot cum releasing in you, he moves his hips slowly but deeply before removing himself from you. You feel his cum seep out from your slit, while he casualy puts his clothes back on before he calmly says.

"I can focus on making dinner now."

#riize imagines #riize x reader #riize #riize smut #fanfic #fanfiction #kpop imagines #smut #wonbin #park wonbin #wonbin x reader #wonbin smut #wonbin fanfic

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