#bodyguard!leon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

narcissarina · 1 month

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𝔊𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫 ℭ𝔞𝔤𝔢, 𝔅𝔩𝔲𝔢 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰

Pairings: bodyguard!Leon × college billionaire!reader

Word count: 2,301

Summary: Your father hired Leon as your bodyguard.

𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙵𝙰𝙲𝙴

Leon Scott fucking Kennedy

The name that you heard so much from the news and to the mouths of your family. They even think of hiring him as your bodyguard, to protect you from danger—danger from this world.

“He’s big and strong, a kind of man you need.” You remember your father utter those words, as if he’s implying that you couldn’t protect yourself. Isn’t that why you started to learn martial arts? You think you don’t need a man to save you from danger when you can fight danger on your own, as long as you train hard enough.

Men are shit, that’s what you always thought.

Your father is shit, he left you with your struggling mother who tried everything to provide for you. Then he had the audacity to take you away from her when she passed.

Your exes are shit, they either cheated on your or just didn’t made time for you. They’re assholes, you despise their good for nothing excuses.

Then degenerates you see on the streets, eyeing you and catcalling you as if you were some trophy to won over nor steal.

You wanted to test this bodyguard of yours his patience, how long will it take before he snaps and leaves.

Such a thrilling experience, right?

𝙸.

Rolling over in your bed, you groan and hit your pillow a few times then threw it across your room. Ever since your asshole of a father took you in after your mom’s funeral, he took you in without asking if you have a say in it. Although you and your mother struggled financially, she was a good mother—working extra hours to earn little salary just to buy you new toys and essentials when you were young.

You despise your father, despise those fancy dresses he buys to you, despise those expensive gifts that he bought for you a few weeks ago. You just hate everything in this household.

Your step-mom was a little controlling, whenever you put on a slight revealing outfit—she would comment about it and make you change clothes, although you don’t listen and just went out with that outfit, she’d glare as if someone committed a sin in front of her.

You got up from bed, grumbling. Reaching out to find your phone on the bedside drawer and check the time, 9:20 AM.

Slowly then quickly getting out of bed to shower, brush your teeth, put on make-up. If step-mom was here, she’d asked; “who are you getting dolled up for, honey?” faking an innocent tone.

Mind your business, bitch.

You wore a fitted top, flared jeans and the converse heels that your mother bought for you—it was expensive as hell, but you appreciate every hard effort that your mother gives. Just to make her only child happy.

You always clean it whenever it gets dirty, even a slightest dust would bother you and you’d whine and get angry when it gets even a slightest dirt.

Your mom did say that she had to borrow some money to buy those heels for you, but you didn’t get a chance who she loans to. You wanted to pay her back and help her with the expenses, even wanting to help her pay those money back. But she declined, she said that all she wanted is that to see her little baby pretty, healthy and happy.

Looking at yourself in the full length mirror, turning around to see if it’s a match and that you’re ready to slay for the day. You grabbed your bag with what you need and got downstairs, you were greeted with the aroma of delicious food at the kitchen. One of father’s maids was cooking your breakfast, “morning.” You greet her with a smile.

The maid turn and smiled, “morning, miss!” seeing you greet her with a smile every morning she cooks for you, gives a warming sensation to the maids heart, “can I have some coffee, please?” you asked nicely, the maid nods and follows as she serve your plat in front of you. You always ask so politely, always saying please and saying it in a calm tone—well, your father is like that too, but you’re stepmother? She demands.

“would you like your coffee to be hot or iced?” the question made you snap away from your thoughts, fiddling with your pen and staring blankly at your assignment that you should’ve done last night, but laziness hits so who could blame you? Your friends.

“iced please.” You turn back to your assignment, “professor didn’t even teach this in class, what the…” you grip onto your hair and let out a frustrated sigh. Maybe if Sarina came to school today, she’ll teach you, right?

You felt something cold next to your cheek, you flinch at the cold and snap your eyes towards the maid. She chuckle, “sorry, miss. I could not help myself.” God even the maid in this house speaks expensive.

You smiled and took your ice coffee and thank the maid, which she always bow with elegance and say, “I am happy to serve you.” As if you were her master and she’s your slave, serving you and taking your request as demands.

You ate and left. Walked to school? No, your father wouldn’t let you. He’ll order every helper around the house to have you driven to school, he’d even go far as fire a random servant when you go against his words—so not only you didn’t listen, but also got a servant (who’s minding their own business) in trouble.

You didn’t want that, so you just follow what your father says and be a good little girl.

You practically zoned out throughout the entire ride, your driver not wanting to offend if he breaths wrong and get him fired, he asked nervously. “M-Ma’am…” he starts and you snap back to reality, “we have arrived at your destination.” Embarrassed as you are, zoning out throughout the entire ride—you check the time, 10:10 AM. You look at the driver in the eye and smiled at him, “thank you!” and left him some tip.

“Ma’am, I-I can’t take this!” the driver yelled, but you were already inside the school ground, the drivers voice didn’t reach your ear because you have an assignment to turn in. Wanting to find Sarina quick, you know just the place she’ll be in.

The library, because she is a book whore.

Quickly making your way to the library, you spot her. Finally! You spoke in your mind and rushes up to her, your heels clicking. Sarina was alerted and look up from her book, her gaze was killing but when she knew it was you—it softens, this bitch doesn’t like to be interrupted when she’s reading. But if it’s you? She’ll make an exception.

“Forgot to do your assignment last night, or did laziness hit?” she asked, “can I say both?” you try to pretty blink your way out of that question, she rolled her eyes and place the bookmark in her book and snap it close. Hit you with the head slightly (since she’s reading a thick ass book in a hardbound cover.)

“That tactics doesn’t work on me, you know?” you sulk in defeat and nodded, “can you pleeeaaase give me a break down of chapter three and four?” you plead, sitting down and she follows. She cock a brow, “I’ll buy you books.” You try to bribe her, using her weakness and love for books—you know she couldn’t refuse for free stuff, right?

“deal.” She scoots over and starts to explain every possible detail of the chapter you’re struggling—not only you have a smart friend, you get a free tutor that you could only understand because the one most of your prof recommends are shit at explaining, couldn’t be at the same level of speech and understanding.

But Sarina? She adjust her speech and use examples that you could easily understand than speaking in riddles because she knew you’re that dumb, but you’re her little dumb, dumb.

Time check: 10:30 AM, that’s how fast and long how Sarina break down chapter three and four, you wonder why she hasn’t been taking advance lessons.

20 minutes and you took down notes from what Sarina said, you still have 20 more minutes to turn in your assignments. You look at Sarina with your pretty little eyes, “thank you, bestie.” You form your lips into a pout and hug her, “you are my savior.” You coo and pinch her cheeks gently, she cringe and hit you on the shoulder with her book, “stop doing that. And get to work.” She clicks her tongue and chuckle at you.

“Yes, ma’am!” you salute and stress on your assignment, muttering what Sarina said and looking back at your notes. Your posture is like a shrimp, Sarina wonder how you get so comfortable in that position—she remembers snapping at you because of your posture. You whine at her that day and sulk.

The girl watch you write down your answers, turn pages and look back and forth to your notes. She wonders why you act so differently towards her then you’re a strong fucking women towards other people, as if she had a little puppy—not a friend.

“Done!” you yelled, which got you harshly shush by the librarian, you bow to apologies and aggressive shake Sarina and chanting thank you and that she’s your savior.

“I promise to buy you books, you can get anything you want.” Those words were dangerous, you utter them to a literal book girlie. She’s going to empty your funding’s, so hope for the best.

Minutes later you came back and sat down next to her again, “turn it in?” she asked, “right on time.” You proudly said and lay your head over to her shoulder, clinging to her as if you’re a fucking koala.

“Jesus, you really need a fucking boyfriend. You cling like a lost koala.” Sarina said and try to get you off of her arm, which you wrap your hands around and refuse to let go.

“but I don’t have a boyfriend.” You try to sound sad to piss her off, “because you reject them, darling.” She rolls and gets back on reading. You let out a small boo-ho and still clings to her shoulder.

Prof was absent so you and your friend got some free time on the first period, silence was so loud that you began to get bored. Until she speaks, “by the way, have you seen the news?”

You cock your head, “hm?” you hum, “there’s been reports of women mysteriously disappearing then finding their location to another island.”

Interest sets in and you listens, loosening your grip from her arm, “heck, even the president’s daughter isn’t safe.”

“wait, wait. Hold your horses, even the president’s daughter?”

“Even. The presidents daughter.”

Jaw drop and crossing your legs, “tell me more.”

“apparently they sent their most best and dangerous agent.” Sarina said, giggling to herself and closing the book—oh wow, this motherfucker never closes her books before when she talks. Interesting.

“he got the presidents daughter safe and return home. Like, ack! He’s so dreamy, girl!”

You nod, so—the agent was a male. God you hate men, really. But hid an ick expression.

“his name is Leon Kennedy, by the way.” You see how your friend bit her lip and got back being all giggly to her book.

Leon Kennedy.

You heard the name before, you father said that if these kind of cases continue—he’ll have Leon Kennedy as your bodyguard, that’s right. Leon fucking Kennedy.

You hate how your father sees you as a meek and timid girl who can’t protect yourself, even your step-mom. Saying it’s for the better, my ass, you said in your mind and just zoned out.

Class ended at two sharp, your driver waiting for you as he greeted you with a smile and lifting his hat to add extra respect. You don’t know why father trained them like this but you don’t wanna ask either.

The whole ride, you talk with the driver for the first time—well, he asked you first. Asking how your day went by and setting the atmosphere something light and fun, he felt like a father to you for a moment, he advises like a dad and share his stories. He has a daughter too, he is a dad.

You almost let it slip, “you were the father I wanted.”

But he didn’t heard that and kept making still making bad dad jokes, it was so lame and bad that it made you laugh. You know one thing in mind, that your own father could not do this to you and with you.

Arriving home, several maids and butlers line up at the front door where you enter—greeting you in sync, their voices sounded like AI, “greetings and welcome back, young miss.” They said and you just stood there dumbfounded.

Still not used to this kind of treatment, “uhm, dismiss?” you said quietly, which all of them heard—they bow and left, completely dismissing them. As if they’re a trained slaves, you shudder at the feeling and something catches at the corner of your eyes, father was talking to someone.

Who is he?

He’s tall, broad shoulders, dirty blonde hair, blue iced eyes. He’s taller than your father, probably 5’11?

“Father.” You said, as much as you hate addressing him father, you just had to. “I’m home.”

“Ah! Lovely.” Father smiled, and gesture you to come closer. “dear, this man will be your bodyguard from now on.”

Huh.

Your mind absent and felt like time freezes, bodyguard?

“My name’s Leon. Leon Kennedy.”

No fucking way.

Next Chapter>>>

#leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon resident evil #resident evil leon #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #re4 leon #re4r leon #leon kennedy imagine #Golden Cage Blue Bonds Series #new series!!#writing my man frfr #bodyguard!Leon

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nocturnixx · 10 months

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my favorite part of re4 so far is watching ashley just calmly walk around all the traps i keep getting caught in

#resident evil #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy #ashley graham #fanart #my art #today my bodyguard of 2 days said he is going to walk me home. after walking for a bit he said oh i hate this part and walked directly into #a clearly visible bear trap all while screaming. he is 27.

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pasukiyo · 18 days

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TAKE YOU LIKE A DRUG

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She shook her head, “I don’t care.”

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

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

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

“I don’t care, Leon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TAGLIST

@corruptcoder

@chaoticevilbakugo

@bxbyyyjocelyn

@luckypurins

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon x reader #resident evil #bodyguard!leon and popstar!reader

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soiwatchyougo · 9 days

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Bodyguard (1)

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen

Summary-

AU- Mapi Leon bodyguard, Ingrid Engen princess.

“But I don’t need another one!” Ingrid said with a whine.

“Ingrid,” her mother said sternly, “this is non-negotiable- don't let me regret letting you go on holiday.”

Ingrid huffed. She was going on a trip to Spain next week, and for some reason, her parents thought she needed an extra bodyguard.

That was the last thing she wanted.

All Ingrid wanted to do was get drunk with her friends and party like any normal person in their mid-twenties. Instead, she would now have two glaringly obvious bodyguards following her every move. Steven had been her bodyguard for the last five years, and in that time, Ingrid had learned his little routines, and more importantly, how to evade him. Ingrid had already planned her holiday around his patterns, and a completely new person added a spanner into the works.

Ingrid understood that her parents had safety concerns, but she couldn’t remember the last time she took a holiday. Every waking minute was taken up by royal duties, and even though she was only 25, she felt like she had already lived a lifetime. Her parents had finally realised the pressure that she was under after Ingrid practically begged them for a weekend off, and they had grudgingly agreed to let her go to Mallorca with a few close friends.

Still, the trip didn’t seem to be turning into the relaxing break that Ingrid had imagined. She had envisaged herself sipping cocktails on the beach, and maybe finding someone to take back to her room after a night out, a stranger who had no idea of her princess status. It was meant to be an opportunity to be an anonymous tourist, but two people in black suits watching her like hawks didn’t exactly fit that narrative.

“Who is she?” Ingrid huffed, having concluded that there was no way out of it. If she misbehaved, her parents would cancel the trip, and not only would she miss out, but her friends would too.

“Her name is Mapi Leon,” said Gudrun, checking the clipboard in her hand, “she is Spanish, so she will be extremely helpful with the language, and she has years of experience guarding the Barcelona men's football players.”

Ingrid turned her nose up, although the woman didn’t sound too bad. She was already thinking of all the excuses she could fabricate to get this woman to leave her alone, and if that didn’t work, Ingrid knew it didn’t take much for her to have people wrapped around her little finger. Her sweet demeanour and startling looks seemed to lull people into a false sense of security, and Ingrid was yet to meet someone whose mind she couldn’t change with a bat of her long eyelashes and a wide smile.

“When do I get to meet her?”

“She’ll meet you in Mallorca, at the airport. Steven should be able to handle the flight, and she’s arranging the transport to your villa.”

Sighing, Ingrid took the clipboard from her mother and read through the details. She hummed in approval as she read Mapi’s resume, her long list of achievements flowing onto a second page. It seemed she had a background as a footballer but quit when she was younger and re-directed her fitness elsewhere. Her photo was blurry, and no matter how much Ingrid squinted, she couldn’t make out anything more than a messy bun piled on top of her head.

“I suppose she’ll do,” Ingrid said in a resigned voice, handing the clipboard back to her mother, “what’s next on our agenda?”

“The State Ball tomorrow night.”

Ingrid groaned and buried her face in her hands; this holiday could not come any quicker.

Thankfully the rest of the week flew, and Ingrid was soon lugging her case down the stairs and into the awaiting car. She had packed an assortment of different bikinis and dresses that her parents would probably faint if they saw, but if everything went to plan, they would stay completely in the dark. She rarely had a chance to express her true style, and although she appreciated having a personal stylist, it didn’t leave much room for fun outfits.

Her friends were already waiting in the car, their bags safely stored in the boot. She was going with Caro, a friend from school, and Frido, the daughter of a Swedish diplomat. Ingrid didn’t have many close friends, one of the lesser-known downfalls of being famous, but she was looking forward to treating the girls who had been there for her through thick and thin.

That started with the royal jet, which sent them gasping and staring in disbelief at the luxurious interior. Ingrid just smirked and sat in her usual seat by the window, the flight attendant already preparing her a drink. Her friends gingerly sat down, stumbling over their drink orders and looking to Ingrid for reassurance. The princess just chuckled, reminding them that while they were on this trip, they were royalty too. Caro looked extremely uncomfortable at that statement, retrieving her own bottle of lukewarm water from her bag.

Finally, they took off and Ingrid breathed a sigh of relief as she watched Norway disappear underneath her. She normally loved the rugged landscape, but her mind was already dreaming of sandy beaches and rushing waves. Her skin had been severely deprived of sun over the winter, and no amount of fake tan could compare to the feeling of sunbathing after swimming in the sea.

The rest of the flight went smoothly, and they landed in Mallorca to clear blue skies. Unlike on a commercial jet, they didn’t have to wait for stairs to be lugged over to let them out or wait in endless queues at security. Instead, the manager of the airport personally greeted them and escorted them to the exit, a charade that wasn’t unusual for Ingrid; she was royalty after all.

Her friends followed behind, their nervous demeanours a stark contrast to Ingrid’s confident stride. Caro fiddled with the straps on her backpack, and Frido unsurely watched Steven wheel their suitcases, her hands hanging uselessly at her side.

Eventually, they left the cool air-conditioned airport and Ingrid searched the immediate drop-off area for a black SUV, her usual method of transport. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she scanned the area, the only car visible an open-topped sports car. A woman was leaning against the door, and as soon as she saw Ingrid exit the airport, she stood up straight and beckoned them over. Ingrid turned to look a Steven in confusion, but her bodyguard was already walking towards the car, shaking the hand of the woman and squeezing their suitcases into the barely big enough boot.

As Ingrid started to walk to the car, it became clear that this was not just any woman.

No, this was the hottest woman Ingrid had ever seen.

Even from several metres away, Ingrid could make out her toned arms pulling open the car door, her back muscles also rippling with the effort. Her hair was pulled into a low bun which only succeeded in highlighting her sharp jawline, and Ingrid felt her knees falter as she noticed the tattoos littering her skin.

Littering her skin would be an understatement; she was practically covered in them. Both of her bare arms were illustrated with intricate designs, and Ingrid fought the sudden urge to reach out and trace them.

As much as she tried to deny it, Ingrid had always had a weakness for girls with tattoos.

There was something about the ink on their skin that immediately made them ten times hotter to Ingrid, and although she pretended that she didn’t have a type, her history didn’t lie. She had never dated a woman without tattoos, and she felt Frido smirking next to her as they reached the car, her friend well aware of how similar Mapi looked to Ingrid’s ex.

Mapi was wearing a black tank top and a pair of jeans, not the usual attire for a bodyguard. However, Ingrid wasn’t complaining, not when that meant she could secretly admire the Spaniard’s body under the guise of checking her outfit.

She stopped in front of Mapi, giving the Spaniard her winning smile. Mapi looked up and Ingrid felt her smile dropping slightly, her eyes widening. Mapi’s face was littered with freckles, and Ingrid swore that she had never seen eyes more beautiful. They were a warm honey-brown, and although Ingrid knew it was impossible, they seemed to be sparkling.

Ingrid quickly regained her composure, “You must be Maria Leon,” she said in a monotone voice, feigning disinterest. She was famous for her professionalism, and that wasn’t going to change now, no matter how attractive this woman was.

Mapi nodded, “Nice to meet you- most people call me Mapi but I’m not bothered.”

“Good.” Ingrid said curtly, eying up the car with a look of distaste on her face, “I hope this thing has a roof.”

Mapi winced and shook her head.

“Great,” Ingrid muttered under her breath, huffily climbing into the car and securing her seatbelt. The three friends squeezed into the back and Mapi started the car, one hand resting on the steering wheel. She looked completely in control and Ingrid couldn’t help but admire how her hand tensed every time they turned, the strong muscles making Ingrid shift uncomfortably in her seat.

It was too loud to converse, so Ingrid alternated between watching the landscape whiz by and Mapi driving. The wind blew through her hair, and although Ingrid knew it would be a pain to comb later, it made her feel more relaxed. Caro didn’t seem to share the same sentiment, gripping tightly to the side of the door as if she were going to blow away.

They finally arrived at the villa and Ingrid waited for Mapi to open her door, barely muttering a thank you before she was sauntering towards the villa. She had to admit it was quite an impressive house, a mixture of traditional architecture and modern appliances. Ingrid immediately headed towards her room- the primary suite- and freshened up, changing out of her conservative outfit into a red bikini and a thin cover-up. They were planning on spending the rest of the day by the pool at the villa, and then venturing into the nearest town for the beach and the clubs the next day.

By the time Ingrid got downstairs, Caro and Frido were already lounging by the pool, sipping cocktails. Ingrid gratefully joined them, sighing in bliss as she relaxed on the sun lounger and let the sun warm her skin. She closed her eyes, her mind slowly drifting away and forgetting the endless responsibilities that she normally had in her daily life. She was just about to doze off when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Argh,” she said in shock, her body jolting and eyes popping open. It wasn’t a particularly hard tap, but in her relaxed state, it certainly wasn’t welcome.

“Sorry,” said a sheepish Mapi, “I just wanted to make sure everything was okay for you.”

“Yes, it is,” Ingrid snapped. She took a deep breath, realising this probably wasn’t the way to get to know her new bodyguard, “sorry, I was just about to fall asleep. Everything is more than adequate, thank you.”

“Perfect,” Mapi said with a smile.

Ingrid felt her heart fluttering. When Mapi smiled her eyes creased and lit up, and Ingrid couldn’t recall a better sight. She had the kind of smile that could light up a room, a far cry from Ingrid’s usual plastic one.

“I was wondering if you’d be okay with me swimming in the pool?” Mapi asked nervously, “We’ve done a perimeter search, and there are no immediate security risks. I completely understand if not, but...”

“No that’s fine,” Ingrid said sweetly, “maybe I'll join you in a bit to cool down.”

Mapi chuckled and scampered off to her room to get changed. Ingrid lay back down on the sun lounger and put on her sunglasses, taking a sip of her fruity cocktail.

A sip she took at completely the wrong time.

Just as the liquid entered her mouth, Mapi suddenly appeared from around the corner, dressed in nothing but a dark green bikini. The fabric barely covered her, and Ingrid had never been gladder to be wearing sunglasses that would conceal her wandering eyes. There was so much perfectly toned skin on display that Ingrid didn’t know where to look, and her sharp inhale only succeeded in making her choke on her cocktail. Ingrid tried to gesture that she was fine, but it was too late; Mapi was already running towards her.

Now the Spaniard was closer, Ingrid could make out the individual ridges of her six-pack and the detailed lines of her tattoos. She immediately looked away, her face a deep shade of red.

“Are you okay princesa ?”

Ingrid nearly choked on her drink again at Mapi’s Spanish drawl, her title never sounding sexier. She was a complete mess, Mapi’s nearly naked appearance and accented voice doing nothing to quell the fire that was slowly igniting in her belly.

“I’m fine,” she eventually managed to splutter.

Mapi nodded and walked towards the pool, which did absolutely nothing to help Ingrid. It turned out her bikini was just as skimpy from the back, and Ingrid was glad Mapi was facing away from her, or she would’ve seen her jaw drop open.

Ingrid had seen plenty of women in bikinis, yet none of them had affected her as much as Mapi did. Given her profession, Ingrid knew that she would be physically fit, but Mapi had muscles in places Ingrid didn’t even know existed.

The Spaniard slowly lowered herself into the pool and started swimming lengths. Her strong arms easily cut through the water and Ingrid watched in appreciation as she effortlessly completed length after length, barely making a splash.

Ingrid decided to stop her staring and join Mapi, her skin now flushed from things other than the sun. She carefully walked to the edge of the pool and sat down, dipping her toes into the cool water. Slowly, she lowered the rest of her shins into the water but remained sitting on the side.

Mapi noticed her presence and stopped her lengths, gently paddling over to the Norwegian. She rested her arms on the side of the pool and looked up at Ingrid with a smile.

“You’re a good swimmer,” Ingrid said, trying to keep the admiration out of her voice.

“Thank you,” Mapi said softly, “when I was a footballer, I got injured quite a lot and one of the ways to keep my fitness was through swimming. It turned out it was actually fun, and when I quit football, I carried on with swimming.”

“That’s nice.”

Ingrid gently kicked her feet in the pool and watched the water ripple. She was overtaken by a sudden wave of nervousness, a foreign feeling that she had only felt when speaking to crowds of millions or negotiating with presidents. She had this itching need to impress her new bodyguard, and although she knew she hadn’t made the best first impression, if anyone could turn it around it was her.

“So,” Mapi said with a smirk, “are you planning on sitting by the side of the pool or are you going to get in?”

Ingrid scoffed, “I’m just taking my time- I've had enough scares for one day.”

She sent a pointed look in Mapi’s direction, and the Spaniard smiled sheepishly.

“Oof,” Ingrid said as she slowly tried to lower herself in, “It’s a bit cold.”

“Nah, it’s fine once you’re in.”

Raising her eyebrow in doubt, Ingrid dipped her fingers into the water and immediately retracted them, the contrast of the cold water on her hot skill not entirely pleasant. She knew Mapi was probably right, but not everyone had the nerve to throw themself in without a second thought.

When Ingrid made no move to submerge herself any further, Mapi had an idea. She removed one arm from the side of the pool and put it back in the water. Flicking her wrist upwards, she watched as the water sailed through the air and landed on Ingrid’s chest.

Ingrid squealed, her mouth gaping open in shock. It felt like ice cubes were running down her chest and the surprise of it took the breath out of her lungs. Mapi retreated to the middle of the pool, treading water and waiting to see what the Norwegian’s next move would be.

When Ingrid recovered from the shock of the splash she couldn’t help but smile at the Spaniard’s grinning face. She looked so pleased with herself, and Ingrid wasn’t going to let her new bodyguard tease her that easily.

In a fluid motion, she pushed off from the side towards an unsuspecting Mapi, who had no time to react. Because Ingrid was taller, she could touch the floor, and she used that to her advantage to push off it and grab Mapi by the shoulders, pushing the bodyguard down. Mapi flailed helplessly as she was completely submerged under the water until her legs hit the ground and she could finally push herself up, emerging as a spluttering mess.

“Don’t mess with a princess,” Ingrid warned in a teasing tone, “I won’t be so nice next time.”

“Noted,” said a smirking Mapi, wiping the water out of her eyes, “although you’re in the water, so who’s really the winner here?”

Ingrid scoffed, “You’re insufferable.”

Mapi shrugged and continued with her lengths while Ingrid grabbed an inflatable and lay in it, purposefully steering it towards Mapi so the Spaniard would have to swim around her. After the third diversion, Mapi stopped and raised her eyebrow at a smiling Ingrid.

“What?” Ingrid said innocently, feigning confusion,

“You know what,” Mapi huffed, shaking her head in disbelief.

Ingrid shrugged nonchalantly, a small smirk on her face; her plan to slowly rile up her bodyguard until she left her alone seemed to be working.

Ingrid soon got out of the pool and returned to her sun lounger, grabbing her book from her bag and opening it with a sigh. She had only managed to read the first sentence before it was rudely plucked from her hands by a dripping Mapi.

“A Jack Reacher,” Mapi said, turning the book over and reading the blurb, “I thought you’d be into something a little more highbrow.”

Ingrid scowled and grabbed her book back from her new bodyguard. Mapi might’ve been the most infuriating person she’d ever met; she wouldn’t even let Ingrid read her book in peace.

“Do you not have any work to do?” Ingrid said with a sigh.

Mapi nodded and sat herself down in the sun lounger next to Ingrid, her face turned towards the Norwegian, “Yeah I do- watching you.”

“That’s not creepy at all,” Ingrid muttered under her breath, even though the entire premise of Mapi’s job was to keep an eye on her.

“You’ll be thankful I’m here when someone tries to kidnap you,” Mapi said wisely, “Jack Reacher is only a fictional character.”

“Very funny” Ingrid said in a monotone voice, “I still think I’d trust him more than you.”

Mapi just smirked and lay back on her lounger. Ingrid tried to read her book, but the sunbathing Spaniard in her peripheral vision was only serving to distract her. After re-reading the same sentence five times, Ingrid huffed and gave up, moving off her sun lounger to perch on the edge of Frido’s.

“Are you having a good time?” she said cheerfully to her two friends. Caro was cowering in the shade, her pale skin already turning a pale pink. However, she was already on her third cocktail, so Ingrid couldn’t imagine she was feeling too much discomfort.

“Mmm,” Frido said sleepily, “This is paradise.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Ingrid said, a small smile playing on her lips. She loved nothing more than seeing her friends happy, and she wanted this holiday to be perfect for them as well. Frido worked for her father, which meant she worked twice as hard as anyone else to prove herself, and Caro was currently finishing her PhD. They rarely had a chance to hang out together without Frido being pulled away to an urgent meeting or Caro not showing up, too immersed in her research to notice the time passing.

“You seemed to be having fun,” Caro said with a smirk, nodding her head slightly in Mapi’s direction.

Ingrid scoffed, “I’m just trying to butter her up so she’ll leave us alone tomorrow.”

Even as she said that sentence, Ingrid knew it wasn’t true. She had a good time in the pool with Mapi, and it was the first time in a while that she had felt completely like herself. There were no expectations to be polite or in control, and Ingrid felt a weight lifted off her shoulders, even when Mapi teased her. Not only was the Spaniard attractive, but she was also funny and caring, qualities that normally made Ingrid weak at the knees. If Mapi was just a person on the street, Ingrid would be flirting with her from the get-go. However, Ingrid was technically her boss, and she knew this was a line she couldn’t cross.

“Sure you are,” Caro said, raising her eyebrows at her fellow Norwegian, “She’s not my cup of tea, but even I can see she’s insanely attractive...”

“...and your type,” Frido added with a chuckle.

They both stared at Ingrid inquisitively, and she could feel herself blushing. She thought that she had been subtle with her admiration of Mapi, but clearly, her friends knew her better than that.

“Fine,” Ingrid said with a sigh, “I’ll admit that she’s hot...”

Her friends squealed excitedly, sharing a victorious look between themselves.

“Who’s hot?”

Ingrid head whipped around so quickly that she nearly got whiplash. Standing behind her was a smirking Mapi, her damp hair hanging in loose waves around her face. Ingrid’s eyes widened in shock, her mind freezing.

“Uhh,” Ingrid uncharacteristically stuttered, “Taylor Swift?”

She immediately cursed herself at her lame response, hating how it came out sounding more like a question than a statement.

Mapi cocked her head and thought for a second, “I prefer dark-haired girls.”

Her eyes momentarily flitted down Ingrid’s body while the princess stared at the floor in embarrassment, completely missing the small smile on her bodyguard's face. Ingrid couldn’t tell if she was purposefully describing her appearance to wind her up, or if it was the truth. The latter option made Ingrid’s heart flutter, despite her strict rules on not breaching the line between business and pleasure. Ingrid couldn’t dare to look up, and she waited for what seemed like an eternity until Mapi finally left with a wave.

“I bet you two sleep together before the end of the holiday,” Caro said seriously, her observant nature picking up on the way Mapi’s eyes lit up when she looked at Ingrid, or how she had never seen her friend as affected by a woman before.

“Caro!” Frido said sternly, playfully slapping her friend on the arm, “That was meant to be just between us.”

Ingrid shook her head in disbelief and left her two scheming friends to themselves, returning to her room for a shower. She got changed into a cream linen dress and sat on her balcony for a while, finally getting started on her book. Lost in the pages, she didn’t notice the quiet knock on her door.

“ Princesa?” Mapi said softly, peering around the door. The princess’ room was spotless, every article of clothing meticulously hung in the wardrobe or out of sight. Even her bedside table was sparse, only housing a gold watch and an eye mask.

“Out here,” Ingrid shouted from the balcony, adjusting her dress and closing her book.

Mapi walked over to the balcony and slid open the glass door, “It’s time for dinner.”

“Thanks,” Ingrid said, getting up and carefully placing her book on her bedside table, “you know you can call me Ingrid? I’m not going to put you in prison or anything.”

Mapi smiled sheepishly, following the Norwegian out of the room, “I didn’t want to assume...”

“Why?”

“Well, I heard you had a reputation of being a stickler for the rules...”

“Oh.”

“... and I didn’t want to offend you in any way.”

Ingrid chuckled and carried on walking along the corridor. When she reached the dining room door, she stopped abruptly and turned around so she was facing Mapi, the older woman’s eyebrow furrowing in confusion. She wasn’t sure if she’d offended Ingrid by insinuating she was a goody-two-shoes, and the mischievous glint in the princess’ eye only made her more nervous.

“Your sources wouldn’t be completely wrong,” Ingrid said, her voice low and quiet. She leaned closer to Mapi, her mouth only centimetres away from her ear, “but sometimes I can make exceptions to the rules.”

Mapi’s breath hitched as Ingrid pulled away with a smirk on her face, flouncing into the dining room like nothing happened. The Spaniard shook her head slowly and followed her in, sighing as she noticed the only place available was next to the Norwegian. Normally the staff didn’t eat with the royal family, but seeing as they were on holiday and only had one chef, it made more sense to eat together.

The chef soon brought out the paella and the group tucked in, Mapi gasping as Ingrid revealed that she’d never had it before.

“Really?” She said in disbelief, putting her fork down on the table, “but how have you survived without it?”

Ingrid huffed, “Quite easily. Have you ever tried fårikål?”

It was a traditional Norwegian stew that Ingrid was practically certain that Mapi had never heard of, let alone eaten.

Mapi shook her head, and this time it was Caro’s turn to gasp in disbelief.

“See,” Ingrid said, “different countries, different cuisines.”

“Fair enough,” Mapi said, “and all compliments to your chef, but this paella is no match to mine.”

“Cocky much?” Ingrid replied teasingly.

Mapi shrugged, “one woman once said it was better than sex, so I think I’m justified.”

The rest of the table watched their banter with a smile. The pair were in their own little world, their only objective riling up the other.

“I think that says more about your abilities in bed than your paella-making abilities.” Ingrid fired back, the words rushing out of her mouth.

“I don’t think that was a problem,” Mapi said smugly.

She returned to eating her paella as Ingrid blushed, realising her comment probably wasn’t appropriate for the dinner table.

“Alright you two,” Steven said sternly, “stop with the arguing and let the rest of us eat our meals in peace.”

“She started it,” Ingrid said sulkily, digging her fork into her paella and taking another bite. She knew she was acting like a disgruntled toddler, but she had never met someone who could get under her skin so easily. There was something about the Spaniard’s smug smile and cocky demeanour that made all her inhibitions go out the window. The worst part was that Mapi seemed to enjoy watching her squirm and Ingrid could do nothing about it, her responses falling off the tip of her tongue before she had time to think.

Thankfully the rest of the meal was peaceful. Mapi asked Frido and Caro about their respective jobs, asking enough follow-up questions to make Ingrid wonder if she was truly interested in their responses and not just making small talk. She shared stories about her childhood in Zaragoza, a city that Ingrid had never heard of before, but despite that, Ingrid felt like she had lived there all her life given the expressive way Mapi described it. Her hands gestured wildly as she described the architecture and her favourite local bakery, and the entire table was enthralled.

After a lovely array of tropical fruits, they moved to the living room. Ingrid purposefully sat on the edge of the sofa and gestured for Frido to come and sit next to her. The Swede smiled sheepishly and sat on the other sofa next to Caro, leaving the space next to Ingrid free. Steven deserved the armchair, which only left one person to squeeze onto the sofa next to her.

Mapi.

Ingrid sent a dirty look to her friends and moulded herself to the armrest, leaving plenty of room for Mapi to sit on the other side. Yet despite the ample room available, the Spaniard decided to plonk herself in the middle of the sofa, her thighs brushing Ingrid’s bare leg as she sat down.

Huffing as the sofa dipped slightly, Ingrid attempted to push Mapi further to the left and out of her personal space. The Spaniard’s tricep was firm under her palm, and no matter how hard Ingrid pushed, she wouldn’t budge.

“Do you fancy moving to the other side of the sofa? Or maybe out of this room?” Ingrid said sarcastically.

“Nah, I’m quite comfortable here.”

Mapi leaned back into the sofa, a smug smile playing on her lips.

“I’m afraid it's royal orders,” Ingrid said sweetly, “I can’t chop your head off, but I can make your life a living hell for the next few days.”

Mapi gasped in mock horror, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Watch me,” Ingrid said with a raise of her eyebrow.

The problem was that Ingrid didn’t normally mind people invading her personal space. If it was Frido sitting next to her, she probably would’ve beckoned her closer so there wasn’t a divide between them. But Mapi’s soft skin brushing hers made her erupt in goosebumps, and the feeling on her hard triceps was only making her even more flustered. Ingrid wasn’t sure she would be able to survive watching a movie when all she could smell was the Spaniard’s sandalwood perfume and hear her shallow breaths.

With reluctance, Mapi shifted across to the other side of the sofa and Ingrid finally breathed a sigh of relief. Her shoulders relaxed and her heart returned to its normal steady rate, Mapi’s mere proximity affecting her physically.

Caro and Frido sniggered to each other on the other sofa, having watched the pair interact all day with amusement. Their usually unflappable princess had a crush, and it was the cutest thing they’d seen in a while. They knew how much Ingrid dedicated herself to improving Norway, and if anyone deserved a little holiday fling, it was her.

“Right,” Frido said, “now we’ve sorted that, I think it's time to choose a film.”

“Finally,” Steven muttered from his armchair, sulkily staring at Mapi and Ingrid. He had signed up to a calm girl's holiday, not a squabbling match between two people who clearly just needed to do something about their attraction to each other.

Ingrid stared apologetically at him, and he instantly softened at those round, green eyes. He had been guarding the princess for nearly a decade, and no matter how much he tried to resist giving in to her, he always did. He couldn’t recall the number of times he had broken the rules so Ingrid could attend a party or concert, putting his job on the line to make her happy. But despite her hard exterior, Steven knew she had a heart of gold and that she would never let anything happen to him, happy to take the blame for his lapses in judgement . He knew he should be stronger with her, which is why he had asked the Queen for an extra bodyguard for the holiday; he just hadn’t anticipated all this.

#fc barcelona #football #mapi leon #ingrid engen #fanfic #woso #princesscore #bodyguard

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radcad08 · 1 year

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Ashley's expressions are A+++

She looks so comforted and grateful in the rain. This must be the first time since the kidnapping that she has felt safe.

And she's so smug when Leon tells Salazar to piss off, because she's staying with him.

Now my shipping goggles may be too tight, but it sure seems like she's crushing on Leon hard. I'm mostly straight and I would be too.

#ashley graham #leon s. kennedy #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil 4 #bodyguard #leshley

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silly-n-cheesy · 2 months

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Weskennedy be upon ye

Idk what this AU is but Wesker is probably like,,,a normal dude that's a bodyguard for Leon, and Leon just has no self preservation whatsoever. It was funnier in my head :/

Glasses free version:

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon resident evil #leon kennedy resident evil #albert wesker #albert wesker resident evil #resident evil wesker #re wesker #weskennedy #normal guy wesker #hes just a dude #a buff bodyguard dude but a dude

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wildrose-briar · 2 months

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Thoughts on a “the bodyguard” AU???

I think it depends on the context for how i feel about it? For example, if it’s like famous or royal!reader than i enjoy it (the Star Wars prequels are unironically some of my favourite films and Anakin was Padme's glorified bodyguard in AOTC). However, when I’m not such a big fan is when its involved in the mafia subgenre of fiction because I am just in general not a fan of mafia fiction. Overall, I think it’s neat, though I don’t think I’ve read many.

#leon kennedy x reader #dick grayson x reader #dc x reader #jason todd x reader #x reader #bodyguard!au

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flowerloves · 8 months

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Ok, but how come nobody has the idea about a Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader Fanfic Au Bodyguard! with Whitney Houston and Kevin Costner

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #the bodyguard #whitney houston #kevin costner #resident evil

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fluffypotatey · 1 year

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Okay, but like...what if in "Queen of Hearts," Arthur followed through on his threat before Morgana did her sorcery frame-up, and he and Gwen just dipped (with Merlin, obviously)? Like, he leaves an Official Statement of Resignation on his desk with his signet ring, renouncing his claim to the throne and all that? The three of them are halfway to Essetir before anyone notices they're gone.

And on the way, they just happen to chance across some smugglers? Logic dictates that Tristan and Isolde started their hustle during Uther's reign for them to be as good as they are in S4 when Arthur had only been king a few months tops. They're still initially suspicious, ofc, but they warm up a lot faster considering the situation, and they're always down with someone who says "fuck the king" with their whole chest. The trio takes up with them bc they're always on the move and make a living on not being found, which is exactly what they need rn because Uther will be looking for them.

But if they want to stay, they gotta contribute. House rules.

Now, insofar, Tristan and Isolde are strictly transport. They're more or less fences. They don't do the actual theft part. But the trio can. Arthur can blend right in with the rich people they rip off, and he's bougie enough to pick out the Good Shit and pass on the knockoffs. Merlin and Gwen can blend right in with the servants to case the joint and swipe the goods, not to mention Gwen's knowledge of metalworking means being able to dismantle jewelry pieces without damaging them and making them untraceable, and Merlin can cover their tracks with magic (he'd have told them after they left) and create distractions as needed.

Arthur does have a small crisis when he realises he makes a better grifter than a prince, but then it's just really funny. He is now the Once and Future King of Thieves. Tristan and Isolde are the envy of the black market scene bc of their "secret weapons."

Bonus points if this is how they meet the rest of the squad bc legit the only knight that isn't a confirmed criminal is Percival, but he's also besties with Lancelot, so it's implied he might be.

Knights of the Criminal Enterprise.

you could have just kissed me on the spot you know

#god i'm in love with this concept #never thought i'd find a canon divergent merwenthur au where they're the top dogs of Albion's criminal empire #s5 is them realizing that camelot is in deep shit bc morgana took up the throne after they left and arthur still loves his kingdom #he's conflicted about going back bc 1) that's his home and it deserves better 2) he likes his life rn 3) he's in denial about morgana's #corruption arc no matter how many times he hears about ('that's not gana merlin those people don't know her like i do' and merlin doesn't #have the heart to tell arthur about her plots to kill both him and uther and gwen) it's not until leon arrives that arthur has to accept it #also elyan introduces merwenthur to tristan & isolde bc obvi he left with the gang (he promised her that he'd always be there and he intend #to keep that promise!)#lancelot when he meets the gang during a heist and he's their target's bodyguard ('...fancy meeting you here' 'literally what the fuck')#the tristan adoption process happens faster in this au bc tristan isn't aware that arthur (affectionately called wart) is the prince #gwen putting her smithing skills to good use and having them be acknowledged????? well mark me down as a swooning damsel #her and elyan being a dynamic duo when it comes to smelting or forging a quarter master's keys #bbc merlin #merwenthur #once and future king of thieves #or Albion's Oceans 11 #arthur pendragon #gwen #merlin emrys #tristan and isolde #headcanons

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comatosebunny09 · 2 months

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Hear me out:

Bodyguard!Leon understands you lead a life of luxury. Knows you’re used to fancy dinners and luxury cars. Glittery things. But he also knows that those all bore you. That you prefer the simpler things. Stuffed animals won at the carnival. Carne asada tacos from the food truck park on the not so ritzy side of town. Swinging your legs on the edge of the pier, watching the stars glimmer in the sky subtly reaching for Leon’s hand.

He also knows the pretty boys who’ve flit in and out of your life haven’t offered you much aside from sex and empty compliments. That you haven’t gone steady for a very long time. That people often use you for your status and wealth. But you grin and bear it. You’re used to it. Expect it.

Which is why you’re a little alarmed when Leon drops a small, rectangular box into your hands one night in your parking garage. Clad in matte black wrapping paper, accented with a gilded bow.

Your limbs still hum with the champagne you consumed earlier, and it’s like hot potato trying to keep your present from tumbling to the ground.

Earlier, you attended a party for socialites and influencers. Stood out like a sore thumb—or at least, to Leon, you did. A nervous little wallflower, smiling pretty for TikTok and Snapchat. Less fickle than the people around, all bathed in the blue light of their phones.

You clung to your bodyguard’s sleeve despite projecting this air of confidence. Hid your anxiety behind a flute of Chardonnay for most of the night before Leon whisked you away to safety.

“For me?” you trill with a dazzling smile.

“Yeah,” Leon chuckles, sheepishly rubbing the scruff of his neck.

You’re so goddamn adorable. Garbed in his suit jacket that’s clearly too big for you, hair spilling from your updo, and your heeled sandals dangling from a curled finger.

Leon averts his gaze, shifting his weight between his feet. Doesn’t know why he feels so shy. So little beneath the sparkle of your eyes. He’s been with you for years. Seen you sweat, bleed, and cry. So why, why is he suddenly so damn apprehensive?

You’re tender as you unravel his gift. And his heart sits heavy in his throat. Your eyes light up with glee at what’s painstakingly revealed. And your chest puffs up with a gasp.

Leon’s so not smug as he eyes you in his peripheral. Isn’t smirking at how something so small makes you grin so big. Not at all.

“What the fuck, Leon! An OLED Switch?!”

He’s never heard you more ecstatic. Like a kid unleashed on a theme park. A woman left on her own in Target.

“No fucking way!” you continue, turning your box this way and that.

“Yes way.”

He bites back a smile as you do a happy jig and fist pump. Who told you it was alright to be this irresistible?

#leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon x you #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon fluff #bodyguard au #bodyguard!leon

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narcissarina · 1 month

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𝔊𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫 ℭ𝔞𝔤𝔢, 𝔅𝔩𝔲𝔢 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰

જ⁀➴Previous chapter

Pairings: bodyguard!Leon × college billionaire!reader

Word count: 2,260

Tw: This chapter is just all smut🧍‍♂️ (hardcore, daddy kink, safe word but never used, call while fucking, crying, dom!leon, crying reader, pulling out method, creampie on the stomach—not inside, cry about it/j. imagine writing 2.2k words with only smut lmfao)

Summary: After the training, Leon made his moves and manhandles you in bed while in a call with your father. Be sure not to make any noises. 🧍‍♂️

𝚅.

You squirm to his touch, his weight on you as you whine for him to get off. “Leon…” his name left from your pretty little lips, “I’m here…” he spoke softly, his breath tickling against your skin. He place soft kisses from your neck, nibbling then biting hard.

You jolt, like the electricity went through your body. Soft choked moans got out, he growls—sucking your skin, his hands travel down to the curve of your waist, holding your hips down and drawing circle. He sharply inhales and switch to the right side of your neck, placing gentle kisses then to your jaw.

Arousal pool in your underwear, you try to squeeze your legs together but it’s his hips that’s been keeping them apart. His cock screaming from the confinement of his pants, his shirt and jeans felt a little too tight as he use one hand to unbutton two more of his polo and remove the belt from his jeans.

You could feel him as hard as a metal, you grind against his hardness to get some friction. “Please…” you choke, “hm, please what?” he teases, leaning back and pulling your legs to him, “come on, your daddy taught you words, no? Use them, baby.” He coos, leaning down again as his hands found its way to the hem of your sweater and lifts it slowly, finding consent if you wanted this. He easily took it off, you’re wearing lace blue bra, it matches the color of his eyes.

He chuckle at the color and grab your right left tits, “cute.” He mutter, you mewl and support yourself up by your elbow but quickly got pushed down by Leon. “Stay down, princess.” He warns.

He massage and circle around to your perked up nipple, “you like this?” he asked, his tone low and seducing as you desperately nod in response, he grins as he remove the strap and toss the fabric of your chests confinement somewhere in the room as he leans and kisses it first then suck on it.

You jolt and arch your back, softly moaning as you lift your hand and caress the back of his hair. He grins against your chest and gently nibble on your sensitive nipple, making you gasp and choke on your moan, “you still haven’t answer my question, sweetheart.” He hums against your chest, he looks up to see your lewd and pleasing expression.

You nodded but too embarrassed to say the exact words, “come on, baby. Use your fucking words.” He said and gave your ass a slap, then squeezing it. You yelp, “y-yes!” you stammer, he hums as he retreat his mouth from your chest—bruise and red.

He made his way, kissing down from your chest, stomach to your abdomen and your clothed cunt. He brought down your pants that’s been restricting your poor numb, he saw glints of your underwear.

You look down to see what is he eyeing and you feel more arouse when he’s admiring your soaked cunt, “Leon… Stop staring.” He chuckle at your remark, he hums and wrap his finger around the waistband and pulled it down, “hope you don’t mind.” You feel a cold air hit your naked cunt, your legs closing as Leon held it and keep them open.

“Don’t close,” he said, burying his face to your cunt without warning, you groan and let out a pornographic moan as he started to lick your sensitive bud and finger your hole. “oh, god, Leon!” you scream, his nose breathing against your clit, shaking his head lightly so he could give it some friction. Letting your arousal pool down as he tongue fuck and finger fuck you, he could feel you pulse around his tongue.

You grind against his face, chasing your high as you feel a warm and hot feeling from your abdomen—his strong hands keeping your legs apart as much as you want to close it as you come undone, he pulls his face and kept his fingers inside you—working his magic.

You spoke nonsense, a mix of curses and please, “you like that, hm? Naughty princess.” He chuckle and plunge his fingers knuckle deep inside, “fuck!” you curse as you grab a hold of his wrist, trying to push it away but you couldn’t. His hold is too strong and you felt too weak and aroused to even fight it.

“You close, sweetheart?” he asked, you nodded, desperately wanting to come to his fingers coated with your white stickiness. “Such a fucking good girl, you wouldn’t want your father to think that you’re such a whore hm? Panting on my fingers, fucking your bodyguard…” he teased, you feel so hot and bothered, tears starts flowing and coming down your cheeks.

Even if it’s just his fingers, it felt too much and how much you desperately want to finish on his fingers—the sound it makes is so loud as you finally felt near, “yes!” you yelp, but felt the sudden emptiness when Leon pulled his fingers out. “Fuck!” you choke and whined.

You sob at the lost of your release as you watch Leon unzip his pants, pulled it down just to his hip and release the built up frustration of his dick, painfully throbbing as if it was showing its gratitude to be freed from it’s tight confinement.

Your guess was fucking right, he is well-endowed. Fuck, you don’t think it’ll fit.

Leon pumps himself, his head back and softly moaning—gripping to his cock tightly and his hand moving with urgency, he place the tip to your slit. Teasing as he move his hips up and down, bumping to your clit—making you shudder and mewl. He fist his cock again, slap his dick and prepare to force it in, but you quickly grab a hold of his wrist. Swallowing your saliva and your breathing became heavy, you could almost hear your heart pounding.

“Scared?” he asked, you nodded, “I don’t think it’ll fi—” you shudder and screamed when Leon got his tip in and plunged deep into your cunt. Tears flow and drag down to your cheeks, your legs trembling and your insides pulsing and gripping to his cock.

“Sorry, didn’t quite catch that.” He tease, you spout random gibberish words—trying to take his cock in. Your cunt adjusting to his size, like it’s molding to his shape. “Fuck, so tight. Tight as a fucking virgin.” He hiss, “this your first time?” he raised a brow which you obviously nodded quickly in response.

“don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you got the best cock of your life.” He remarks and slowly retreat, leaving his tip only inside. Then plunging it right in, you hiss with pain and pleasure as his tip is fucking kissing your cervix.

“Fuck, Leon!”

“That’s right, baby. Scream my name, you don’t know how long I wanted to do this so I could fuck the bratness out of you from a few days ago.” He grunts, snapping his hips against yours—knowing completely that it’s your first time and he’s being rough, “I forgot,” grin is spreading from his lips, “what’s your safe word, baby? Tell me…” he asked, you just moaned—too full of his cock hammering your insides.

You asked yourself where the fuck did he get a third leg, “r-r-r…!” you stammer your words, his dick obviously hitting you so good, “speak up!” he plunges deep, making you scream. Grabbing both of your legs and placing them of his shoulders—his hands pulling your wrist, he manhandles you like your pussy is some fleshlight.

Your eyes widens, back arch and toe curling—your gummy walls gripping to his length as you made out a word, “red!” you finally said, Leon hums and pulls to thrust back in gently. “Wasn’t so bad, hm?” he coos, he leans with your legs over his shoulder—your position in a mating press which got you choke and moan loudly, making his length reach deep inside you that you never knew.

“T-Too much…” you sob, “I know, but you can take it.” He encourage—his lips kissing your jaw, softly letting a groan slip from his lips as he thrust inside you, you think he’s giving you a breather after getting fucked like there’s no tomorrow. You close your eyes and mewl at each of his thrust.

His hips angle to certain direction to make you have a reaction, you feel that familiar release again. But he’s moving too slow that it pains you.

“L-Leon…”

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

“M-Move… please.” He grins to your words, “good girl.” He pulls, his hands at the back of your thigh. Your knees reach at each side of your cheeks as Leon starts to snap his hips against you, his balls hitting your anal hole and he’s deep inside. Making you mewl and cry, choking on your moans and sobbing to the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Been such a good girl for me…” he praises, “don’t be a brat again, hm?” he leans and kisses your lashes, you nod, “oh, god yes… Oh, daddy.” Your words made Leon stop, you just pant with sweat rolling down your forehead and how you whine at the sudden stop, “daddy?” he repeat.

“I never knew you’re into that, but I’ll play along.” He chuckles and flop down one of your leg while the other is still almost reaching your ear, “scream for daddy, doll.” He said and resume his brutal pace.

“you”—thrust— “hear”—thrust— “ that?”—thrust—

He asked while thrusting hard each and every word, you feel so sore and a white ring starts to draw from Leon’s length. You cry at the overstimulation that you’re starting to feel, “come on, baby. Come on my fucking dick.” He grit between his teeth, he feel your walls clamp into him tight, he let out a shudder and a soft curse, “oh, fuck…”

You came undone, but Leon is nowhere but finish.

Vrooo—

The sound of Leon’s phone vibrating, a call incoming. Leon took his phone and look at the number, you thought he’ll drop the call but he didn’t. He picked it up and put it beside his ear and resume drilling his length inside of you, making you gasp and choke back a moan. Refraining one word to come out from your lips.

The voice from the other side of the line was familiar since Leon put it on speaker, your heart drop when you learn that the voice is from your father.

“Yes, sir.” Leon hisses, groaning. “It’s nothing, I just bruised myself.” He made up an excuse, but he really is just drilling another hole inside your hole. You covered your mouth with both of your hands, muffling moans every hard thrust Leon makes.

“Your daughter?” Leon turn to you, “yeah, she’s with me.” He grins, you shake your head and begged him to not make you say something to your father, “oh, no. She’s sounds asleep, can’t wake her up or else she’ll kick me out.” He joke with your father, his pace slowing down as his free hand capture two of your wrist. Pulling you close and fucking you to oblivion with nothing to cover your mouth with.

You bit your lower lip, threw your head back and hope for the best that you wouldn’t moan a single thing—just tiny little grunts and sobs, Leon could hear it but it wasn’t loud enough to hear.

Leon put himself to mute and lean down to capture your lips, pulling you in a fiercely kiss. Desperation and lust as he devours your lips whole, you could hear your father venting.

“B-But what about…” Leon hushes you before you could continue, “don’t worry, I made sure to put myself in mute.” He assured and got back to making you come your orgasm the second time, you heard what your father is saying.

“She’s my only child, you know? I am so glad that she’s warming up to you, Leon.”

You moaned loudly when Leon flip you over and plunge deep.

“I know I did something that I shouldn’t have done that made her resent me, I know. I’m a bad husband, but I’m trying to be a better father.”

Your eyes rolling up, too much pleasure that Leon is giving you—you sob and whine at him to slow down and be gentle but he didn’t, he was addicted to what sound your cunt is making when getting fucked by his dick.

“I’m trying to be better… for her.”

There was a long pause, Leon listen to his words but very much focus on pushing you to your limit. “fuck, baby. Daddy’s near.” He hiss, he buried himself to the crook of your neck, making small but fast thrust, making your legs give out and numb. Your tears dry and your voice hoarse from all the screaming.

“Thank you for listening to me talk, Leon. Please, look after my little girl.”

The call ended.

Leon pulled out from your puffy red cunt and fist himself and release himself to your stomach, both covered in sweat and panting for air.

Your eyelids were heavy and you become sleepy, your whole body trembling from the pleasure and your hole clenching to over nothing—but you sure did heard what your father just confessed in a call.

“Sleep well, princess. I’ll take care of you.” Leon assured and kissed your temple.

You close your eyes and nod at Leon’s words, but you do know one thing before diving into your slumber.

That your father is a bad husband, but tries to be a good father.

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